#like their push and pull is so real. they're actually moving. what-

[casualavocados]

Are you really Chen Yi? I'm not dreaming, am I? You can try and prove it.

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 12

[kenjakusbraincum]

Heey, I LOVE your writings on soft sukuna, you write so beautifully🩷 please can you do one where he is jealous (fluff)😭🩷

Thank you sm for the kind words!!! Here's my best attempt at doing your idea justice <3

Sukuna has no real reason to be jealous. He practically owns you, controls every aspect of your life, who or what could he possibly be jealous of? Every servant who dared approach you in an inappropriate way would be dealt with swiftly. And you're a good pet, who has eyes for no one other than your master. You really don't give him a reason.

But there's this one thing... Since you've been so good and obedient, Sukuna has allowed you many liberties. You're permitted to skip around the mansion, watch Uraume cook, even enjoy little hobbies. You've tried many before you found that crocheting particularly piqued your interest. Ever since you've learned the basics, you've been spending hours working on perfecting your skills. At first it was cute, watching you squint in concentration as you move the hook. But then the math became really simple - having this hobby to keep you busy meant you approached Sukuna out of boredom a lot less. And he noticed it. It irked him, but you're not technically doing anything wrong. You were still as happy to serve him as ever, he just had to ask. But why would he have to ask? You should be all over him on your own. He should have to push you away, not beg you to give him attention. He didn't like this disturbance in your master and pet balance that this little hobby of yours caused.

He stands at the door now. You're crocheting again. You and your favorite servant laugh at your failed creation so sweetly, you don't even notice he's waiting. He clicks his tongue to establish his presence, and your servant falls to her knees immediately. You however, are not held to that high of a standard anymore.

"Master!", you call him, and hop up to greet him with a deep bow. Before he can say anything, you've picked up the piece of fabric you've been working on and ran into his arms to show him.

He looks at the ugly form and scoffs. "This is what I'm sponsoring?", he says and pulls a loose piece of yarn, making your little creation fall apart. He always was a bully, but you note his bad mood.

"I'm only a beginner...", you sulk.

"That much is obvious.", he flicks the yarn away and it falls onto the floor. Before you can bend to pick it up, he seizes your wrist and pulls you back. "Aren't you a little young to waste time with hobbies for the elderly?", he asks. You look at him with your cutest, practiced doe eyes, but it doesn't work.

"Come, pet. I know an activity more suitable for your age.", he says when you don't respond, and steps out of the room. You hop after him, unaffected by his condescending comments. You know that they're just for show. If he really thought you were a hag, you would've been gone a long time ago.

"Sitting at your throne all day?", you tease innocently and join him at his side, sliding your arm underneath one of his. You hope your playfulness will distract him from whatever is bothering him. "Or in a bath?" His lower set of eyes peeks at you and smirks, noticing that you're feeling particularly daring today. He's not sure how he feels about that. "Or in your bed." He rolls his eyes gently and opens the door to his chambers.

"At least then you'd be serving your purpose and actually spending time with your master.", he comments and shuts the door. His comment catches you a bit off guard and you stop in front of his bed. He makes his way towards you, and you look up at him with an insulted expression.

"Master, are you jealous of a ball of yarn?", you ask playfully, and squeal when he suddenly pushes you down to sit on the bed. Now you're at eye level... with his crotch.

"You've got quite a big mouth today. Put it to good use for a change, will you?", he runs his hand from the crown of your head to the back of your neck. You seem to have struck a nerve, so it really is the ball of yarn. Is it possible that Sukuna is this clingy?

"Will you?", he repeats and tugs on your hair and narrows his eyes. You smile obediently and reach behind him to untie his obi.

"Yes Master."

-

You try your best to manage the time you spend crocheting from then on, working on productivity in the hours that you dedicate to developing this skill. And it helps that you have a specific goal in mind now: helping Sukuna realize that this hobby is a friend, not an enemy. He still catches you engaging in it sometimes, and gives you a dirty look, but you're as quick as ever to drop what you're doing and join him. That seems to satisfy him.

When you're finally happy with the result of your creation, you look for Sukuna around the mansion. It's not really that hard to find him, as he frequents three places most of all: the dining room, his bedroom and his throne room. This time, he's sitting on his throne, and a small line of people wait for their turn to be gifted his attention. You on the other hand, don't have to wait in line to get it. His lower set of eyes spots you the moment you enter the chamber. You're allowed to roam the mansion, but barging in unannounced is not standard even for you.

Still, Sukuna has learned that you usually only feel daring enough to cross boundaries when you're sure he'll like what you have in mind. So for now, he will let this slide. He's bored as hell anyways. The people are dismissed and you pass by them on your way to his throne, nestled on a pile of bones. You stop in front of it and greet him with a bow.

"Master, I come to you with a humble offering.", you say with your hands on your thighs and your eyes fixated on the ground.

"Show me.", he says simply, but you recognize entertainment in his voice. You climb up the bones and feel his stare scan you from head to toe, before you sit on his knee.

"May I ask you to close your eyes?", you ask and flutter your lashes. Oh the way you seduce him. Who else could ask Sukuna to do something as dangerous as close his eyes? Give his opponent valuable time to land an attack. Who else could dare? And who else would he ever listen to and really close his eyes? Really do as he's told? Oh how safe he feels with you.

You take one of his large hands into yours, and gently pry his long fingers away to open his palm. He has beautiful hands. The only ones you've ever known, but you're sure they're the most beautiful hands in the world. So dangerous, so elegant. You want to press a kiss to his palm, but you hope your gift will have the same, maybe even more profound effect.

Something soft touches his skin, and then you speak, as politely as before. "You may look.", in your softest voice. And when he opens his eyes, he finds himself looking at you first. You're an offering on your own.

Then he looks at his hand. Two crocheted plush figures resembling him and yourself lay flat on his palm, connected through their holding hands. At first glance, it looks like they're two separate creations. In a sense, they are, but... He tries to part them.

"We're sewn together.", you explain. He hums in amusement and inspects your gift more closely. His plush is bigger, recognizable by the pink hair and four buttons for eyes. It's even wearing his favorite kimono. Yours is smaller and less detailed. You look like any other human when placed next to him, insignificant. But in a sea of pets, entertainers and lovers he's had in the past, he would never fail to recognize it as you.

He's spent so long looking at it with that face of his that you just can't read. You're starting to grow restless in his lap, and he feels your eyes dwell into his soul. When he looks back at you with one pair of eyes, your brows are furrowed in worry and you're fiddling your hands in your lap. He pats you on the head and pulls you closer, so you have no choice but to lean on his frame.

"It's beautiful, darling.", his fingers run through your hair, scraping your scalp softly. "No loose threads either.", he looks at you with all four eyes now, and you feel so small in his arms. You're not used to receiving this many compliments from Sukuna at once. Not ones that weren't directed at your body or performance. Especially not when he's looking at you so tenderly, when every word sounds so loving and genuine. "You've improved so much.", his hand is on your face now, and you catch him glancing at your lips. You part them to start thanking him, but you already know how much he hates listening to that.

You stay quiet instead, and lean closer, letting him take you. And he kisses you so softly, fingertips light against your heated skin. You feel like you're floating, like a lily pad in a warm pond. The littlest gesture of his affection has you melting in his embrace. The power he has over you... and how wonderful it is to surrender yourself to it.

None of the liberties and privileges you've been awarded with compare to this. You know that many pets have walked these halls before you. Many warmed his bed and claimed the title of his favorite. But how many loved him like this? Enough to dedicate time of their day to making intricate gifts. How many could say Sukuna kissed them lovingly, for no other reason than to show gratitude and affection?

You're flushed completely red by the time his lips leave yours. You can't hold the intensity of his gaze, as he stares at you in adoration. "I'm happ.. I'm glad you l-like it...", you stumble through the words and win a giggle out of him. You are just so cute. Like a pet should be. He rubs your head again and pushes you away lightly.

"Go now, the people await me.", he says with a benevolent smile gracing his face. "I'll see you tonight."

You bow to him and leave.

And when you visit him that night, he is as gentle as he was when he kissed you earlier, still in a good mood after your gift. Caressing your hair, shoulders and back, as you lay comfortably with your head on his chest. Keeping you warm in his embrace. You're trying your best to follow the conversation, but sleep is slowly taking over you. Sukuna notices and plants a kiss to your forehead, wishing you goodnight. The last thing you see before your eyes close, is your handcrafted plushies sitting on his nightstand.

[luveline]

i have a request for bombshell!reader if you're up for it!! <33 maybe somehow the team finding out that they're *actually* together and their reactions to it!! it would be soo funny i think naisnakaka 😭 thank you and i hope you have a good day!!

thank you lovely, you too ♡ fem

Emily isn't expecting it. She's been betting on you both for months, she has money in the pool, but knowing you're together versus really truly seeing you together are surprisingly separate things. 

Spencer has you up against a wall. It's funny but it isn't, how shockingly intimate the moment is, how you're looking at him like he's hung the moon just for you. “It's not a bad thing,” you're saying, a hand pressed softly to his front. 

He's not kissing you or anything salacious, he's not even really shoving you, he's just got his hands on you, one on your shoulder holding you to the wall and the other just under your arm. “I know it's not, don't worry–” 

“I do worry. I don't want you thinking that anything about you is wrong.” 

Emily should walk away. This is clearly private, but she's just never seen you both like this. She had her suspicions, that behind the shy touches (and the more confident ones from you) and secret smiles was a real, intimate relationship, but to see it displayed in front of her has her jaw dropping. 

“I don't think that," he says quietly, ducking his head in a way that forces you to make eye contact. Emily might call it brave, but it would be better labelled as comfortable. Spencer's not shy because he knows he can be vulnerable with you, and he's reassuring you now because you can do the same. “Why would I think that?” He kisses you. 

It's sudden. Emily almost gasps. 

He pulls away, says, “You don't need to think about that kind of stuff, angel, I know who I am,” over your lips, and then he kisses you again. 

“I just love you,” you say, words half lost in the kissing and the quiet. 

Emily shakes herself and backs away, guilt like lead in her fingertips. She should not have watched so long, no matter how curious, but it's not as though you're in a private place, it's a shared conference room—

“What's with the face?” 

Emily waves her hand, as if to say, don't talk, but Morgan's a fiend and JJ not much better, looking over Emily's shoulder eager for the drama. “What, Prentiss?” Morgan asks. 

“Y/N and Spencer,” she whispers, giving in. 

Morgan's face is a picture, and predictable. He shuffles around Emily and JJ follows, her lips parted in surprise. 

Morgan peeks inside, and doubles back, pushing JJ before she can get a look. “Wait!” she insists in a whisper shout. 

“That's not PG viewing.” 

Emily saw it herself, but she still can't believe it. Nor can she believe when you appear from the conference room together unabashed ten minutes later, Spencer's hair in disarray, his cheeks (and his whole face) a rosy pink. You sit at your desk and Spencer touches your shoulder, promising you a cup of coffee. 

You're smiling as you reapply your lipstick. Your teammates look on in poor acts of casualness.

“You guys are perverts,” you murmur, rubbing your lips together to spread the colour evenly. 

“I– we–” Emily sits back in her seat, defeated. “You could've told us.” 

“Should've,” JJ says. 

“Thought you guys already knew.” You put the cap back on your lipstick and beam at them. “I'm not subtle, am I? But don't tease him too much, okay? We wouldn't want to torture him.” 

“Come on,” Morgan laughs. 

Spencer returns with your coffee. He's not subtle, either, come to think of it, putting your coffee mug carefully on your coaster. “That okay?” he asks. 

You don't even try it. “That's perfect, handsome, thank you.” 

He strokes the soft line of your jaw with the back of his finger, a split second touch that practically glances off of you, and heads back to the kitchenette. Morgan gets up, presumably to chase him down for congratulations, while the girls move in. 

“It's actually funny how it happened,” you say immediately. “I kissed him by accident.” 

“How do you kiss someone by accident?” JJ asks. Emily nods furiously in agreement. 

“Surprisingly easily,” you say, looking as pleased as a person can be. “It was a few weeks ago, we were in the police precinct in Jacobsville…”  

[cherryobx]

pretty girl

request: here

pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

summary: Steve has been begging to take you on a date for weeks but you've said no every time because you think you're not pretty enough for him

warnings: reader is pictured as fem and has hair that can be pushed behind the ear, being insecure about acne, steve is a simp, they're coworkers, reader wears jewelry

wc: 1.1k

“Why won’t you go out with me?” Steve asks, leaning against the driver side of your car so you can’t get in the car without him moving. You were both on closing shift tonight so you walked to the parking lot together.

“I already told you, I just don’t want to.” It’s a lie. A big fucking lie. In fact, it’s your dream to go out on a date with Steve. He’s handsome, sweet and has always been very nice to you but it’s your own insecurities holding you back.

Ever since puberty hit, you’ve been struggling with acne. You’ve never once thought that other people with acne were any less beautiful but you just couldn’t get yourself to like how it looked on you, how the bumps and scars littered your face. 

“That’s bullshit. I know you like me. I just don’t understand why you won’t go out with me,” he ponders.

“My reasoning should be enough for you to back off.” You cross your arms on your chest, using them as some sort of barrier between you and him, hiding yourself.

“Have I done something to you for you to hate me?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then go out with me.”

“No,” you stand on your ground. “Can you please stop blocking my car so I can go home now?”

“No.” And he stands on his. He’s not giving up and you can’t help but lowkey admire his ambition.

“No?” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“Give me a real reason. Tell me honestly why you don’t want to go out with me,” he demands and you sigh at that. You know he won’t leave you alone unless you actually tell him. 

Steve prides himself in knowing you well enough to know when you’re lying. Couple months into working at the Family Video together he managed to spot the tells of you lying. He saw it every day first hand. They were always little white lies. Like when someone asked about a movie they wanted to rent out but you told them that it wasn’t available at the moment. The truth was that it was, he checked, but you wanted to take it home yourself. But he noticed how you pushed hair behind your ear and then pulled it back out from behind it many times. He noticed how you fidgeted with your rings and bracelets or touched the necklace you never took off. He noticed.

You take a quick glance around to make sure that there are no people near enough to hear you confess your biggest insecurity to your coworker. Not that anyone would really care. But you do. It’s something you don’t really voice out loud and write in private into your diary at night when everyone is sleeping.

“Are you sure you want to go out with me?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t. What is this about?” His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks confused.

“Don’t you find me, I don’t know, ugly?” Your voice is now quieter, vulnerable.

He’s taken aback. His words are almost choked up. “Ugly? No, I find you really pretty actually. Why would I think that?”

“You’re just saying that. You can be honest with me, Steve. My acne. Is it not making me unattractive or something?”

He pushes himself off your car and stands up straight. “I am being honest. I think you’re the most gorgeous girl in Hawkins.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not! Your acne does not make you any less beautiful to me.” He takes a step closer into your space, his eyes remaining on yours. It’s a little thing but you notice it. Most people’s attention is on the skin of your face but Steve is staring straight into your eyes, almost like he’s seeing into your soul. It makes you feel vulnerable.

Your heartbeat speeds up and you can feel your heart thumping loudly in your chest at his closeness. His hand comes up to your face and he pushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I want to take you out because I like you. I like spending time with you. I like how you make me laugh. I like how you fix my hair when you notice it’s messed up. I like how you lie to customers from time to time.” That pulls a smile from you. “ I like how you look at me. Because I look at you the same way.”

“Are you serious?”

“As death.” He places his hand over his heart. 

“I don't feel pretty enough for you, Steve. There are so many girls who’d do anything to be with you. You should be with someone who looks and feels as pretty as you are.”

“You think I’m pretty?” There’s a cocky smirk on his face.

“Was that all you heard?” You scrunch your face.

“No. I’m sorry. I was joking,” he chuckles nervously. “If you don’t feel ‘pretty enough’ for me,” he uses air quotes, “I want to help you feel that you are. I want you to show you how beautiful I think you are. I want to take you out and show you off because you deserve it. You deserve to be treated like a princess because that’s who you are.”

You almost tear up at his words. He seems to genuinely mean what he says and it’s quite literally pulling on your heartstrings. “Really?”

“Really. Let me take you out, please.”

“Okay.” Your voice is barely above a whisper but it’s enough for him to hear. The smile on his face is huge as he wraps his arms around you tightly, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. You laugh and hold onto him tightly.

“Yes! You won’t regret it, I swear.” 

When he finally places you back on the ground, he keeps his arms around you, no space between you two as your bodies are pressed together. 

His eyes dart to your lips. “Can I kiss you or is that like reserved for the first date?”

It pulls another smile from you. “It is, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

It’s all you need to say before he kisses you, a hand coming to rest on the side of your neck, fingers in your hair. It’s gentle and sweet but oh so perfect.

“How about tomorrow night? We’re both off.”

“How do you know my work schedule?” You narrow your eyes at him.

He shrugs, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“So?”

“Tomorrow works.”

He presses a small peck to your lips before pulling away and backing towards his own car. “I’ll pick you up at 7 then.”

“Sure.”

“See you tomorrow, pretty girl.” His nickname for you causes your cheeks to heat up and you grin.

Maybe you should’ve given into him and his relentless begging sooner. 

[koolades-world]

have three really great ideas but this one was brainrotting me more so you get this one first. may or may not be inspired by myself and the amount of birthmarks i have personally (i do actually have all the birthmarks listed!) if you guys want a part two for solomon's birthmarks and mc doting on him, let me know. i could make that happen!

i can't explain it but i kept thinking of that one solomon and his wives post written by my beloved mutal alba while writing this. not sure why, but i'm giving credit where it is due. please go check her out!!!

this can read a little suggestive so read with caution! however, i think it's very very cute!! <3

birthmarks

"Hey, Mc." Solomon looked up from the book he was reading. You were seated not too far from him, sitting cross-legged on the ground surrounded by papers you were organizing.

"What's up?" You didn't look up from what you were doing.

"Have you ever heard of any old wives tales behind birthmarks?" He asked.

"Well, that was out of the blue." When you paused, he continued to look at you expectantly. "Yes, I've heard a couple. The first one I thought of were they were how you died in a past life." You let out a snort of laughter at the expression that crossed the sorcerer's face.

"That's not the one I was thinking of." He shook his head.

"Then, you must've been thinking of the one where they're where you've been kissed in a past life. If the death one was the case, I would've had some brutal deaths." You recalled the simple, yet romantic myth where every birthmark was a kiss left by a lover of your past. You much preferred that outlook, even if it wasn't real.

"That's the one. Now, I'm curious..." He trialed off, giving you his best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

"You could've just asked in a normal way. You're my partner. Asmo must be rubbing off on you." You got up, and joined him on the sofa.

"No, Asmo would've just asked you to get naked." The two of you giggled together at the idea. In his defense, he was right.

"Do you have any birthmarks?" You wondered how he'd thought to ask something like that in the first place.

"Maybe you'll get to see later, if you're lucky." Solomon winked at you.

"Solomon!" You smacked his arm, to which he pulled you into a hug back.

"Maybe you can help me find each and every one..." He voiced died as the words left his mouth. He ran a thumb over the birthmark on your cheek, his touch gentle. You could tell he'd already moved on from that idea despite how enthralled he'd seemed with it a second ago. "This a cute spot to have one."

You had many birthmarks, but the one on your cheek was the one most easily visible. "Thanks. I must've gotten lots of cheek kisses." You remarked. "Is this the one that got you thinking?" You put a hand over his, which was still on your face.

"You read my mind." You studied his face of oddly deep concentration. While he was looking at you, he didn't even realize he wasn't meeting your gaze. Instead, he seemed to be memorizing your features.

"Compared to the others, this one is small." This comment seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

"Where are the rest?" His hand stayed on your cheek, but seemed ready to move to the next area at any point.

"I've got a fair amount on my arms and hands. There's one on the base knuckle of my right index finger, and another just underneath the first knuckle of my left ring finger." He took both of your hands in his, moving to study them next.

"You were well loved." He threaded your fingers together. "They were sweet to you, and married you." You began to grow shy once you realized the implications of the birthmark on your ring finger, and a little upset with yourself for not realizing that sooner.

"I'd never thought of that." You cleared your throat, and pushed past the mild embarrassment. "I also have one on my left forearm, and one on both of the backs of my shoulders." He let go of your right hand to run his fingers up your arm and to your back, but held steadfast onto your left hand. He remained silent, his lips a thin line.

"I have one over my heart, and one in the center of my chest." You pressed a finger over the center of your chest where you knew the mark was. Solomon's frigid hands settled over your heart. You hoped he couldn't feel how it was racing under his touch.

"Is that all of them?" He finally met your eyes. They were filled with a tenderness you could only place as fondness.

"No, I have a couple more." You took his free hand, and guided it down to where the remaining two were. You knew he'd do it anyways. "I've got one here." You placed his hand on your hip. After steeling your nerves, you guided his hand lower down to your inner thigh. "And one here."

"You were well loved." He repeated. You'd expected some sort of snide comment about the placement of the last one, but that didn't even seem to be on his mind. You stared at him, trying to figure out what thoughts were running through his head. You left his hand on your leg, and stroked his face like he'd done for you moments ago.

"Solomon, are you jealous?" The corners of his lips twitched at your comment.

"What if I am?" He sighed. He held your left hand close to his body, and cuddled you close to him.

"Did you ever consider that maybe it was you?" You whispered.

"Me?" Solomon sounded surprised.

"I think it was you. If you don't believe that the way I do, you can replace them. That way, I have double the kisses from you, and you know for sure your lips were the last to touch me." You could tell your words were getting through to him by the way his zeroed in on yours.

Instead of responding, he lifted your left hand to his lips, and kissed your left ring finger, and ghost of a smile on his face. "Then, I have work to do, don't I?"

[oppopotamus]

hear me out on my glorious king sukuna, but more specifically, megkuna, after the gojo vs sukuna fight ryomen decides to show off by fucking his slut (the reader) in front of everybody thru the eyes of mel mei’s crows, forcing everyone to realize who the real strongest sorcerer is, the reader is like uraume in a sense but instead of being a personalized chef/assistant the reader is sukuna’s lifelong cocksleeve, btw ur work is absolutely BEAUTIFUL keep it up handsome 🫶🏽

Cocksleeve

THIS WAS SO SCRUMPTIOUS TY

srry it took so long I took a MASSIVE break from writing

also TYSM ily <33

Warning: NSFW, sukuna calls you cockwhore, cocksleeve, etc, you can't say no, you don't know the crows r watching

You were breathing heavily, rushing around to find Sukuna, you had no idea where he was an you were scared.

You ran for what felt like ages until you found him, "Sukuna!" You called you to him as you ran up to him, looking up at the tall curse.

"Ah, you're here." Sukuna didn't even look at you, keeping his eyes focused on some crows that were observing you both while perched on the trees.

"Why are you looking at the birds?" You ask, tilting your head curiously.

"Oh..." That's when Sukuna smirks, suddenly getting an idea. "Yes, they're just birds, don't worry about them."

You raise an eyebrow at his suspicious behaviour but choose not to comment on it, instead you fidget with the sleeves of your sweater.

"Why don't we have some fun, hm? I'm awfully stressed after my fight y'know." Sukuna asks, but really you don't actually have a choice, although he always asks, you can't refuse him.

"Right here? But... what if someone sees...?" You ask nervously, still fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater.

"Nobody is around, no-one will see." Sukuna smirks, looking directly at one of the crows.

"Plus, you know you can't say no to me."

You nervously shuffle your feet, you know you can't refuse, an although you're used to sex with Sukuna, you always get nervous.

"Alright then..."

Sukuna doesn't need anymore encouragement before he's spinning you around, pushing you down onto the ground in a downward dog position.

You yelp and quickly place your hands in front of you to support yourself as Sukuna presses down on your lower back, forcing you onto your knees.

He wants to do it Doggystyle I guess...

You let out a quiet whine and stay still waiting for Sukuna's next move.

He smacks your ass with his large hand, making you jump, it didn't hurt much since you were wearing jeans but it still gave you a slight shock.

Sukuna slowly drags your pants and underwear down, making them bunch up at your knees. He grabs the butt plug you have in an wiggles it around, making you whine.

"Mm, Kuna..."

"Yes, my little pet?"

You wiggle your ass impatiently, you hate being teased.

He drags the plug out, making you hiss and shiver.

"You're so loose, did you wear this all day?" He asks while shoving the plug into his pocket for later.

You whine and nod as he rubs his thumb over your whole, not pressing in, just teasingly rubbing it.

"That's what I like to see, what a good boy."

Sukuna smirks and pulls his cock out, slapping it against your ass.

Before you know it he's thrusting in and out of you at an inhumane pace, you scream and dig your nails into the ground.

"Good little cocksleeve, huh?" Sukuna asks as he smacks your ass, his other hand holding onto your waist to keep you still as he relentlessly fucks you.

"Bein' such a good boy for me, yeah? You gonna be a good cockwhore and take all my cock?"

"Mm! Y-Yes! I-I'll be good... m' promise-"

Your arms give out, forcing you to fall onto your chest with your ass in the air.

You look back over your shoulder at Sukuna but he's not paying attention to you, rather to the crows.

You find it odd how focused he is on them, but you pay no mind to it, you're too focused on how fucking fast Sukuna's fucking you.

"Kuna! Kuna!" You whine and moan, your hands digging into the ground as your legs shake.

"You gonna cum? Yeah? Cum for me, baby." Sukuna groans as he feels your hole tighten as you cum, squeezing around his cock making him fill you up.

The second Sukuna pulls out your entire body falls limp onto the cold ground, breathing heavily and sweating.

"Good boy." Sukuna chuckles and gives your ass a tight squeeze before pulling the plug out of his pocket, he shoves it back into your ass, making sure all his cum is kept in your hole.

The feeling makes you whine and squirm, but you have to admit, it's really hot.

"I hope they had a good show." Sukuna smirks, looking up at the crows.

"Huh? You hope who had a good show? The crows?" You ask in confusion.

"You could say that."

[hairmetal666]

au where Steve is a famous Disney kid and Eddie is a teenaged singer-songwriter. They get pushed together at events because they're close in age, but they just quietly dislike each other.

Steve's got a new show starting, a spinoff of the one that made him a household name. They hire a newcomer, Robin Buckley, to play his best friend and the two quickly become BFF in real life.

The show runs for two seasons but when it comes time to renegotiate contracts, neither star is interested. They're older now, ready to live life on their terms and not the company's, or in Steve's case, his parents.

As soon as the finale airs, Robin and Steve celebrate by going to a gay club. A few weeks later, an interview is released where Steve comes out as bi and talks about how his parents mistreated him; how they worked with the network to pressure him to be a perfect "all-American" kid even off screen.

Meanwhile, Eddie's an impossible level of famous. He's had number-one hits, won a Grammy, headlined an arena tour, achieved every dream he had for himself as a kid growing up in a trailer park in Indiana. He's not shocked by the news that Steve is leaving Hollywood, but he's flabbergasted that the guy isn't straight. When Eddie reads the interview, he gets this weird pang in his chest, almost like regret. But he never even liked Steve.

Steve isn't in the news again and Eddie doesn't think of him for a long time.

Steve goes to college. He loves it. Not because he's great in his classes, or anything, but because he's free to be himself for the first time. He makes friends and goes to parties and relaxes. He and Robin share an apartment.

After a few semesters, Steve decides to take a couple of theater classes, and is quickly cast in campus productions. In the vague anonymity of college theater he rediscovers his love of acting. No one has expectations of him, no one forces him to perform. He graduates and slowly starts appearing in small roles in Indie films, gathering critical acclaim. He feels good. Happy. Hopeful.

Eddie is blissfully unaware of Steve's career resurgence, experiencing his own musical highpoints, until the day where he's scrolling Twitter, sees a Variety headline that's getting a bunch of attention, "Steve Harrington in talks to star in Max Mayfield's first film." Eddie's livid.

"Maxine, what the fuck?" He growls when she answers his call.

They grew up together in the same Indiana trailer park. When she moved to Hollywood to start a career as a screenwriter, Eddie was by her side. And when her first script wound up on the Black List, his involvement on the soundtrack and original songs sealed her production deal.

She gives a long suffering sigh. "Munson," she grumbles. "I know you have a weird history with this guy, but I swear he's the right choice."

"He's a stuck up rich boy who's never been in trouble in his life."

"He's changed."

"Doubtful," Eddie sneers.

"Look. I'll set-up a meeting. Come hang out and you'll see what I mean." Before she hangs up she adds, "Call me Maxine again and I'll end you."

They invite Harrington to Eddie's recording studio. His hopes are not high for this meeting, so he's already a little thrown when Steve Harrington walks in, all grown up. He's in a crimson sweater, tight jeans, hair grown long so that it flops around his face in tousled waves that actually look genuine, windswept and golden. Eddie's eyes instinctively trace the scatter of moles on Harrington's face and neck, a pang of something hitting deep in his gut. Fuck, this dude is beautiful.

"Harrington," he greets, sticks out his hand. Eddie barely hears the answering, "Munson," because instead of a handshake, Harrington pulls Eddie in for a hug. Muscles bunch under the sleeves of the sweater, against Eddie's chest, and he's assaulted by the scent of cedar and sunshine and Steve. Eddie's not prepared for any of this.

They make small talk, Harrington sharing about going to college, falling in love with theater, Robin Buckley who he calls his soulmate. Eddie's head rings with how wrong he was about this guy; the pretty kid he grew up alongside who seemed to have the world in his hands. Max was right, he's perfect. Except.

"Let's get down to it, Harrington," Eddie says. Can't bring himself to call him Steve yet, feels that will somehow change everything and he's not ready. "I'll admit that Mayfield had the right idea about you, but can you sing? Play guitar? You have to perform my music, dude. That's not a small ask."

Harrington smirks, asks for a guitar. He gets it settled across his lap before he speaks. "I started taking piano lessons when I was 4. Voice and guitar at 7."

Eddie belatedly recalls that Harrington's parents were the worst kind of stage-parents, pushing their cute kid to perform even as he sobbed about wanting to play soccer with his friends instead of going to auditions. He has a moment of shame that he forgets as the other man begins to play. It's one of Eddie's biggest hits, a ballad about a teenaged broken heart from a kid whose name he can't even remember.

Harrington's hair flops in a swoop over his forehead, his fingers move across the strings with ease, skill. His voice is a rasp, close mimic to Eddie's own, but not quite deep enough. Goosebumps spread across Eddie's arms, his neck, and warmth pools low in his gut.

Steve finishes the song, looks up, cheeks glowing pink, honey eyes bright. Eddie's fucking gone for this guy. He wants so badly he might choke on it.

"Good?" Steve asks.

Eddie's embarrassed suddenly. Unsure. He tugs at his hair. "Yeah," he laughs. "Good."

He reaches out to take the guitar, the one Steve's already handing to him, and their hands brush. Eddie flushes. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles. Eddie's thoughts are consumed with the desire to kiss his plush pink mouth.

"You wanna get dinner? Just you and me?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, Steve," he laughs. "I'd love to."

🎬🎸🎬🎸

Fifteen Months Later

"Former Teen Heartthrobs Make Love Connection?"

Fans of musician Eddie Munson and former child star, Steve Harrington, were in for the surprise of their lives last night as the men arrived together for the premier of Harrington's new movie, Small Town Sins, written by up-and-coming screenwriter Max Mayfield, featuring original music by Munson. While Harrington's performance and the movie itself are garnering quite a bit of positive buzz, it's being overshadowed by gossip about Harrington and Munson's budding romance. They walked the red carpet together, pausing for photos as a duo, holding hands and flirting. When asked for confirmation of their relationship, Munson answered, 'we're bros,' before winking and pulling Harrington close.

There's a TikTok video embedded below the article, showing the men being interviewed on the red carpet. Their arms are loosely around each others' waists, and when their eyes meet they catch and hang for a beat.

"So, longtime fans of both of yours are going feral online right now because of the rumors that you two used to hate each other. Is there any truth to that?" An off-camera voice asks.

The men laugh. "We've always been great friends," Eddie answers.

"Eddie thought I was stuck up," Steve giggles.

"I did not." Eddie slaps at Steve, who gives him an affectionate smile.

"Liar," Steve answers.

Eddie leans into the camera like he's telling a secret. "Harrington here was afraid of me."

"Fuck off, I was not." They wrestle around for a couple of seconds.

Steve shrugs Eddie off, straightening his suit jacket. "Okay, maybe I was a little intimidated back then, but then this morning you found a pretty rock and cried about it."

Eddie shrieks, swatting at Steve until someone in a black suit and name tag shoos them down the red carpet.

Eddie walks off first, so he misses Steve withdrawing a hand from his pocket and saying, "Still have the rock, though." He flashes the red, grey, blue striped stone at the camera.

His gaze drifts away, landing somewhere in the distance, hazel eyes soft and heart-wrenchingly fond.

[literaila]

new pups

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru brings home a couple of additions

warnings: satoru is annoying, reader is fed up with him, tsumiki is doing something (???), megumi is tired he needs a nap

last part | next part

*

year three

“ladies,” satoru calls, slamming the door instead of shutting it, even though you've scolded him about it for five weeks straight. “i’ve returned.” 

there’s the distinct sound of someone kicking the wall—probably just satoru throwing a bag by the door. 

you set down the pen you're holding, sighing at the sound. 

you used to live in a peaceful house, always clean, always calm, no boys to disrupt your wonderful lifestyle. 

and now you live with three kids. you probably haven't had a single moment alone since you moved in. 

and yet tsumiki looks up from the table, her eyes wide and waiting, and you watch fondly--glad that they're home. 

megumi rounds the corner, rubbing his eyes. his hair is a mess--complete with leaves and mud--and his face looks like it was stretched out by a car tire. but tsumiki smiles at him, not bothered by his appearance. “i’m here too," he says, walking up to the table where you're helping tsumiki with her homework, looking distastefully at the worksheets the two of you have lost track of. 

you smile at him. 

“hey, kid,” you say, pulling him to kiss his forehead. he tastes like sweat. “how was your class?” 

he shrugs, as telling as ever, then goes to the kitchen. 

satoru is next, as untouched as he was before he left, not a hair out of place, leaving a loud smacking kiss on tsumiki’s head—who loves it—and one on your cheek— which is promptly wiped away. 

“did you miss us?” he asks you, leaning against your shoulder with his entire body before you push him away. his blindfold is slipping from his face, and you snap it against his skin.

so he huffs and sits at the chair next to you, blindfold off, moving it even closer. seriously, he has never learned the meaning of personal space. 

“we didn’t have time,” you tell him, kicking his leg as he sits down. “we’ve been working.” 

he gives tsumiki a look. “blink twice if you need help.” 

she opens her eyes wide, making him laugh. her tiny fingers tap against the table, and you can tell that she's about to beg you for another break--just to go check on her room, she'll swear, or grab a glass of water. 

you've only been sitting there with her for an hour, but even you're feeling a bit restless at the math and reading comprehension worksheets you'd like to never see again. 

“shoo, satoru," you tell him before he can say anything else, 

"we’re almost done.” 

“but i just got here!” 

"you're going to disturb tsumiki. she's working hard." 

"i can watch," he grins at the little girl, "can't i, miki?" 

tsumiki looks between the two of you, nodding her head. "he's okay," she whispers to you, sweetly, and you pretend not to notice as the two of them share a wink and a smile, plotting against you, probably. 

"sit and be quiet," you point at him, turning away. 

"actually... could we take a break?" you frown at her, raising your brows. "there's not much left, and i promise i'll finish it all soon!" she pleads, taking satoru's signature sweet talking, "i just want to check on something real quick." 

you sigh, looking at what she's got left over, and, for how long you've been working, it's not that much (plus you could probably use a break too). "okay, but--" tsumiki is up from the table before the words are out of your mouth, her smile radiant, and she runs away before you can get another word out.

you snort as she leaves, then look to your best friend, frowning at him. "that's your fault." 

"i sat down," satoru deadpans. 

"i know you're teaching them to slack off when i'm not around," you tell him, moving your chair at least three feet away. just to get away from his crushing aura. 

satoru does not take this hint--nor any other one--and he moves with you like it'll physically kill him to be any further apart. 

"does avoiding homework and playing candy crush count as slacking off?" he asks you.

"yes." 

he nods thoughtfully. "oh, then yeah." 

you groan, stacking all of the papers on the table. your shoulders bump into his as you do so, his hands on your thighs, creeping as they try to scare you away. 

then they're gone, and he grins mischievously. 

"don't worry, megumi wanted to show you something anyway," he whispers, and then looks down the hallway, where the boy disappeared a couple of minutes ago. "megumi!" he sings. 

about thirty seconds later a scrunched-up body marches into the room, wearing pajamas already, dark circles that shouldn't exist for a nine-year-old under his eyes. 

seriously, what did satoru do? 

you nod at the boy and he looks quizzically at satoru, entirely bored and exhausted. 

"well?" satoru asks after they've been staring at each other for ten seconds straight. "aren't you going to show her?" 

megumi blinks, and usually, he'd probably argue at any request satoru made, but he looks too tired. he merely gives a half-hearted eye-roll, shaking his hair out of his eyes.

and then he turns towards you, looking briefly at the light above the table, rests one of his hands upon an open one, making an indiscernible shape. 

and almost before you can see them--you feel it, that unmistakable current of cursed energy, but satoru doesn't flinch, so neither do you. 

then there are two puppies at megumi's feet, barking excitedly beneath him. 

the two of them may be trying to give you a heart attack.

you stare for a moment--watching as megumi pats both of their heads, then looks at you, like he didn't just bring home two new pets without even asking you.

or like he's not just nine, creating creatures out of thin air.

you blink. the white one sniffs around megumi's feet, moving over to satoru to inspect him while the other black one sits by megumi, happy to remain there. 

"see!" satoru exclaims after he's had enough of the silence. he looks ridiculous bending down to pet the dog sniffing at his feet, who tries to nip at him in response.  

"you--" you frown, tilting your head, watching closely as they might disappear. "you made those?" 

"they're shikigami," satoru tells you, "aren't they cute?" 

"you just learned how to do that?" 

megumi nods. 

you gape for a moment more--so many curious thoughts running through your head, attempting to scare you away from your little boy and whoever he's supposed to be--but you shut them out. then smile. "wow, megumi. that--wow." 

his nose ruffles at you. 

"and you can summon them at will?" 

megumi frowns, but satoru nods. 

"and release them?" 

"he figured it out pretty quick," satoru says. "honestly, i was impressed." 

you stand up, ruffling his hair. "good job, buddy," you say, with obvious pride. 

how many parents can say that their child created two puppies and brought them home to them?

"they can't really do much." 

"i told you that they'll grow with you," satoru says, rolling his eyes. "maybe they have laser eyes."

megumi frowns at him.

"hmm," you watch them, the white one sniffing at you now. "they are cute. who could fight these little guys?" you say, cooing at the puppy, who basks in your attention. "they might shock curses into submission if nothing else." 

satoru laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you rise up again.

you give megumi a frown, watching his slow blinks. "you tired?" 

he nods, not even bothering to deny it like he usually would.

"okay, go hang out. we'll get dinner ready." 

megumi walks off, the two puppies following after him. 

you brows furrow as you watch him go. "did you have to torture him to get him to summon them?" 

satoru rolls his eyes. "i just talked to him until he figured it out." 

"so, yes." 

"actually, he didn't say much. just kind of sat by himself and thought for a bit." 

"and you watched?" 

satoru grins at you, nuzzling his nose into the side of your face. 

"he looks like he's half dead." 

he shrugs. "took a lot out of him. puppies are hard work." 

he's recalling what you told him when he tried to get you all to go to the animal shelter a couple of weeks ago, you look at him pointedly. then away. 

satoru grins at you, pulling his head back, then pauses. "what? you're not a dog person?" 

"how much do you know about his technique?" 

"not a lot," he answers, simply, "i know that he'll probably rival me for strength. when he's older." 

"how are you going to teach him?" 

satoru shrugs. he doesn't need to worry about any of this, you think. he doesn't need to fear a single thing. 

and, really, he's always been a little too good for you. a little too strong for your soft demeanor, and easy heart. 

you bite your lip, considering it. how fast will megumi grow now that he's figured out the basics of his shikigami? how much longer can you keep him here, tied down?

it only makes you wonder what satoru was like as a kid, who he might've been if he hadn't always been him. 

"he's only nine," you whisper, soft, unbroken. it's not a confession or a worry. just the truth.

"you were nine." 

"i was ten," you correct, appreciating satoru's strong arms against your body, his effortless hold on you. 

he laughs, tilting his head at you. "i was born." 

you roll your eyes, pushing him off. enough of his presence. "yeah, yeah, honored one, whatever." 

he pulls you back, though, easy as ever. "it's normal," he reminds you. "he's got us. he'll be fine." 

you sigh, hanging your head against his chest. "we don't know anything about his cursed technique." 

satoru hums. 

"we have to figure it out," you tell him like you haven't thought about it every day for the past year alone. like you'll be able to figure out anything. 

"okay." 

"do you think there are books on it at the library?" you ask him, thinking about yaga's lessons--which, in hindsight, you should've paid more attention to. 

satoru frowns. "i'm not reading those." 

"well, no one's going to tell you about it." 

"you could. after you read the books," he grins, very pleased with this answer. 

"you're helping because there's probably, like, twenty different ones all contradicting each other." 

just the idea of the library is a tough one. who knows what information has been muddled over the years, or what you'll need to know for megumi, anyway? 

no matter what, it's gonna take longer than a day to figure it out. probably a decade, at least. 

"can't megumi just read them for himself?" satoru whines, shaking his head against yours at the same thought. 

"satoru," you pinch his forearm.

he groans. "fine. fine. i'll talk to yaga next time i'm at the school."  

"good boy." 

"don't patronize me," he pouts. 

"where did you learn that word?" 

"i can read, you know." 

"really? thought i was gonna have to teach you that too," you smile at him, pinching his rosy cheeks. he looks very pretty like this--always unchanging, unbothered. 

"i was the best in my class, i'll have you know," he tells you like you weren't there to experience that same class. 

"you mean laziest," you shake your head, stepping away, finally. "god knows why you turned out to be so strong." 

he grins again, leaning towards you. close enough to breathe in. "it's part of my natural charm." 

"great," your brows raise at him, "you and your charm can help me make dinner." 

"do we have to?" he whines. 

but satoru is very similar to your new puppies, in that as soon as you walk away, he follows, sniffing eagerly after you. 

*

"so," satoru says, sitting too close to you on the couch. he yawns, body sprawled against the cushions. 

you try to push his head away from your shoulder, but the effort is futile. he might as well glue it there. you wonder when he got the time to fill his brain with cement. 

you sigh, and dog-ear your book, knowing that he's not going to shut up for at least ten minutes. "what?" 

"i talked to yaga today." 

"about the books?" 

"among other things." 

you flick his forehead. "did you get us in trouble again?" you ask, frowning. "i told you to stop spilling my secrets to anyone who asks--" 

"it was an accident." 

you shake your head, rolling your eyes at him. but your hand subconsciously wraps around his shoulders, squeezing where it can, and begins to trail through his hair. 

after three years, you still haven't managed to get him to tell you anything about his conditioner. another reason why you hate him so much. 

"what'd he say?" you ask, after satoru's eyes close at the feeling of your hands. 

"he had an interesting idea." 

"was it your idea?" 

"no, not this time." 

"okay..." 

"well, you know how they're always running low on teachers at the school, especially now that yaga's principal?" 

"uh-huh." 

"and you know how we could use the help with training megumi, and that we're the best out there--" 

"no, satoru." 

"i didn't even say--" 

"i'm not teaching." 

"but you'd be so great at it," he smiles up at you, fluttering his eyelashes in an attempt to break you. 

so you look away because you refuse to fall victim to his whims again. 

"the missions are enough, i don't want to be responsible for anyone else but you and the kids." 

"you know you do." 

"i'm not doing it," you tell him, snatching your arm back to cross them across your chest. 

"it's not even that big of a change," he argues, "just, like, a very extensive year-long training program for incoming teachers--" 

*

next part | series masterlist

[dogfish4200]

the party and the after party

you and Leon hate each other, simple enough. CW: smut!

To put it simply, Leon is an asshole. A pure pile of dogshit you want to leave on the ground for someone else to deal with. He’s cocky to the point of narcissism, unnecessarily rude under the guise of “sarcasm,” and doesn’t seem to care enough to ever apologize. Essentially, the opposite of you, with straight As and a track record of volunteer work, the epitome of a goody two shoes which you don’t see as an insult anyway.

So, when he shows up at your birthday party unannounced and uninvited, it takes pretty much everything in you to not walk over and slap the grin off his stupid face.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Leon.” It’s not said like a question. The words roll off your tongue coated in venom, and to be honest the few drinks in your system have made you more confident than you actually feel.

“What’s wrong? Thought this lame excuse of a party could use some entertainment.” Leon cocks his head to the side and gives you a wink, unbothered by the obvious tension in the room.

Everyone here knows the fights between you guys get real nasty real fast, the last time it happened you both got kicked out of the library for yelling and throwing books. That time though, it was because Leon had copied your scholarship project idea and submitted it before you, forcing you to redo the entire thing a week before the deadline.

“You weren’t invited, shithead, and why would you even think I would want you here in the first place? All you do is walk around like you own everything and treat people like they're worthless.” Heat was rushing to your face now, and you didn’t really mean to escalate things so quickly, but when he stood in front you with a look of pure spite, who could really blame you?

Leon simply shrugged, pushing past and knocking into your shoulder on the way through the hallway. As he moved by, he leaned down next to your ear and whispered, “if you really want me to leave, it’ll take more convincing than a few middle school level insults.” He let out a chuckle at the way your body tensed before continuing on his way inside the house.

It’s an hour later before you see him again, this time with his head thrown back laughing at a joke someone said. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, one hand holding a red solo cup and the other firmly planted around the waist of some girl you know from an old volunteer group.

It’s unclear why, but you find yourself walking over and grabbing another cup. Leon’s eyes are locked onto your every move and his mouth is curled into another one of his signature smirks as he raises his drink.

He watches you accidentally pour a little more liquor than necessary into the cup, follows the motion as you bring it to your lips and tilt your head back to swallow the entirety of the liquid in one go. You catch his gaze for a second, wincing slightly at the burn of the vodka sliding down your throat, and see him lean down to tell the girl something before letting her go and striding over to where you stand.

“For someone who turns homicidal over a little project, I’m not surprised that that didn't make you puke.” The sarcasm in his voice is not lost on you, it wasn’t a compliment. You look up to meet his eyes, glaring intently while deciding how to respond.

“Guess you don’t have me as figured out as you think you do then.” You turn away from him and attempt to pour another shot for yourself, but Leon’s hand is suddenly ripping the bottle away from you. “What the fuck is your problem? Does it look like that was for you?”

Leon shoots you a devilish grin, uncapping the liquor and bringing the mouth of the bottle up to his own lips before taking a long, exaggerated pull. Setting the bottle back on the counter, he replies “You said it yourself didn’t you? I own everything.”

“That’s not what I said. I said you act like you own everything, big difference dumbass.” You roll your eyes at him and shove him backwards, noticing how close he had gotten over the last minute. Leon barely blinks an eye at the reaction, and instead of letting you walk away, grabs your wrist roughly to pull you back towards him. He’s turned you around so your back is pressed into the counter and you can feel his breath on your face as he speaks. “Are you always this bratty? Or is this something you save just for me?”

The hold he has on your wrist is tight, tight enough that you think it should hurt if you didn’t have the amount of adrenaline equivalent to skydiving running through your body right now. “You think me telling you you’re a piece of shit is being bratty? I’m pretty sure if I was being bratty, I wouldn’t win all our fights.”

“You think you’re so much better than me because what? You get good grades? Win some scholarships? Newsflash, sweetheart, people are only friends with you because it looks good. Because you’re a pushover and they want to use you for their own gain. At least, that’s what I’ve heard anyway.” Leon releases your wrist and reaches for his cup again, smiling like he just won the fucking lottery.

The rage boiling inside you is not well hidden, and your impulse control is significantly lacking in your current state. Instead of playing the “bigger person” and staying silent this time, you grab his cup and splash it directly in his face before turning and storming out of the room, leaving a now sufficiently soaked Leon in your wake.

Stomping up the stairs, gripping the handrail so tight you might as well bring it with you, you make your way to the second floor bathroom. You step instead and slam the door shut, albeit a tad harder than was necessary, but you can’t find in you to care right now.

As you're splashing cool water on yourself and attempting to pull it together, it is your birthday after all, the doorknob jiggles slightly before the door swings open to reveal none other than the man you wish would burn to ash under your gaze. Bile pools in your stomach at the sight of Leon, strutting into the poorly lit bathroom without a care in the world as if he didn’t just stab you with a knife and twist the blade.

“Long time no see, your majesty.” He makes a point of overexaggerating a bow before roughly shoving you out of the way of the sink and grabbing a towel to wipe his face. “You know, you’re really just as much of a piece of shit as I am with the way you act towards me.”

Rage fuels you at this point, a string of sentences too obscene even for you snaking their way around your tongue, held back only by the determination to not prove his point. You scoff and cross your arms over your chest, “If I was such a bad person, I wouldn’t be helping as many people as I do.”

“Right, because changing the world is all about being a kiss ass who does whatever they’re told.” Leon rolls his eyes before continuing, “Don’t you get bored of being who everyone else wants you to be?”

The question could be read as caring if you didn’t hear the malice in Leon’s tone, words chosen specifically because he knew it was something that would get under your skin. “Who said I’m not doing what I want? Just because you can’t handle the thought of caring about another human being doesn’t mean I can’t too.”

“That’s what you want? A nice house with a nice job and a nice car and a nice boy who praises everything you do? I’m not convinced, but if that’s what life is about for you,” He paused briefly, turning away from the sink and taking a step towards you, “then I hope you fucking hate every second of it.”

White noise filled your eardrums, blood rushed to your face, and you stick a pointer finger in his chest as you respond “What makes you think I care about your opinion? Why would anything you say hold any meaning to me? You’re just scared because you know you’ll end up alone and sad regardless.”

A shift in Leon’s eyes signal you touched a nerve, and his usually flippant demeanor suddenly morphed into a look of fury that you had yet to observe up close. You became increasingly aware of the wall behind you and the way Leon continued to press forward, leaving minimal space between the two of you.

The tone of his voice when he spoke was lower than before and raspy, as if he was fighting an internal battle to not smash something. “You think you’re some untouchable princess that gets whatever you want handed over on a silver fucking platter, but I swear to god,” his voice dropped impossibly lower as he placed one hand on either side of your head, caging you in against the wall, “I could ruin every good thing about you right now if I wanted to.”

Centimeters separated your faces, heavy breathing filled the space as both of you stared the other down, not willing to be the first one to break away. “Such a fucking shame that someone as pretty as you has to be so damn ugly,” he begins twirling a strand of your hair around his finger, “I guess nice guys finish last because you don’t let them come first, huh?”

Your breath was caught in your throat at the implication behind his words, mind reeling both at the way you wanted to break his nose and also prove him wrong. “Nice guys finish last, Leon , because they know how to be a gentleman unlike you.”

Your voice comes out shakier than intended, but you stand your ground, eyes locked onto his as he suddenly stops twirling and instead grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back into the wall with a thud. “Maybe so, but nice guys don’t know how to fully satisfy you, do they? Always left wanting more, just like everything else in your life.”

Leon’s grip in your hair was brutal, keeping you in place as his whispered insults travel the short distance to your ear and his mouth ghosts over the skin of your neck. “You haven’t asked me what I want in life, princess.”

You draw in a slow breath, extremely aware of every nerve on the right side of your neck where Leon’s teeth nip at you. “Why should I care what you want, asshole?”

“Because, darling, I think you might like it.” You feel a wicked grin spread over his face as he bites down, hard, right under the curve of your jaw. “I want everyone downstairs to know you like screaming my name in more ways than one.”

Another bite, just below the first.

“I want to show you that you don’t deserve anyone better than me.”

A third bite lands even lower than the others.

“And, I want you to admit that it feels good to give up for once.” Leon’s tongue presses flat against your throat, moving swiftly up over the places he just bit, his spit cooling the fire on your skin only slightly.

“Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll stop, but if you say nothing, well, there’s no one here to stop me from taking what I want is there?” Leon lifted his head back up to meet your eyes, dark pools of anger staring as you fight to try to form a sentence, a word even, to tell him to get the fuck away from you and leave you alone for good.

You pause for a second too long, Leon now placing both hands on your shoulders and practically throwing you on your knees in front of him. Letting out a groan of pain as you land on the tile, Leon looks down at you with nothing but a grandiose aura surrounding him. “Look at you, on your knees for someone you claim to hate so badly.”

“You shoved me down here, now my knee hurts and I’m too drunk to want to get up.” The sentence comes tumbling out of your mouth, embarrassment rising and rapidly overtaking the red hot rage fueling you before.

“Sure, but I bet if I took my cock out you’d suck it anyways, wouldn’t you? You want to be a slut, don’t you? But it would ruin the perfect little image everyone has of you.”Leon leans down to place a hand around your throat, squeezing so hard you think you might pass out before anything else can happen. “I know you, and I know you’re willing to take whatever the fuck I’m about to give you, so shut the fuck up and open that disgusting mouth of yours.”

He releases the grip on your throat and you let out a cough, gasping for the air that was so forcibly removed from you, and sit back on your heels without saying a word. You glare up at him, and if love is thinking someone planted the stars in the sky just for you, your hatred for Leon was as if he had stolen each and every one for himself, leaving behind a trail of tears everywhere he went. Leon makes quick work of removing his belt and unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down around his thighs and revealing the aching hard on hiding beneath. You steal a glance at it, taking note of how easy it would be to punch him and run for it, but something keeps you frozen in place and waiting for his next move.

A hand angrily grabs at your face, gripping the sides of your jaw and a calloused thumb reaches to force your lips to part. “By the way,” he drops his hand away and pulls his briefs down in one motion, “I’m not going to apologize if I leave bruises,” he takes the base of his cock in one hand and brings the tip up to meet your mouth, precum glazing over your bottom lip, “and I definitely won’t apologize when I finish first.”

With a harsh thrust forward,Leon forces his entire cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and causing you to choke around him. He takes a sharp inhale between gritted teeth, looking down and whispering a string of curse words before moving his hips back only to immediately slam himself into your mouth again.

Tears spring to the corners of your eyes almost instantly, the force of him fucking into your mouth causing your head to hit the wall before he snakes fingers into your hair and holds you still. The sounds of spit and breathy moans fill the bathroom, faint music from downstairs is heard as Leon sets a relentless pace on your throat.

“Fuck, look at you, such a dirty fucking slut. I wish everyone could see you right now, gagging on my fucking cock and whining like a little bitch.”Leon’s words send a tremor down your spine as you look back up at him with blurry eyes and tear stained cheeks. “No one will ever want you when they find out what a whore you are. Just a toy for others to play with. Fuck.” Leon suddenly pulls out of your mouth, the hand in your hair forcing you to a standing position as the other rips open the button down shirt you had on. He makes quick work of pulling it off you, kicking his pants into a corner at the same time. He pushes you to the other side of the room, stomach pressed against the edge of the sink as you stare at yourself in the mirror.

“Be a good fucking whore for me and take those pants off, yeah?” He whispers menacingly into your ear, the implication of what’s about to happen dancing on his tongue with each syllable. You find yourself complying, too shaken from the events that are unfolding to put on a facade of denial. Slowly, you push your jeans down and over the curve of your ass, and as soon as skin is exposed a harsh slap is delivered, sending you forward and clutching onto the counter edge.

“Hurry the fuck up, bitch, you think I want this to last all night?”Leon growls out, taking your pants the rest of the way off in one aggressive pull. You let out a whimper as the skin on your ass turns red and the shape of Leon’s hand appears to mark the sinful acts being done. “Look at yourself, bent over and naked, crying and panting like a fucking dog, and I haven’t even fucking touched you. Pathetic.”

You can’t help the small and high pitched moan that escapes your mouth, something about the way he was saying these things to you made you completely pliant under him. You didn’t want to admit it, but you wondered if there was anybody else who could make you feel like this.

“Leon-” Another hard slap is delivered, this time on the back of your thigh, and it makes your knees weak enough where you feel like it’d be easier to crumple back down on the floor.

“Did I say you could fucking talk? I don’t want to hear a word from you unless I ask, and even then it should only be you begging me to fuck you.” Suddenly a hand was pulling your hair again, this time forcing you to make eye contact with him in the mirror as he jerked himself off with his free hand. “Say yes if you understand.”

The pain was mixing with pleasure at this point, sharp and shooting but so fucking sweet. You gasp out at the whiplash of being manhandled this way and liking it. “Y-yes.” Your voice is a whisper and you’re unsure if he even heard it at all, but then he arches your head back somehow further and spits on you without warning, and you can barely think about anything at all regardless.

“Yes, what?” He smiles at you, not kindly and not the way someone who was enjoying themselves would. No, instead, he smiled at you like he owned you. Like you were a prize he only won because he knew he could. Like you were merely a pawn in a game of chess that he played with his eyes closed. And it drove you fucking crazy.

“You don’t deserve more than the yes, asshole.” You gasp out in between breaths, body trembling and aching from the aggression being taken out on you.

That sealed your fate, the grip in your hair going limp as he takes his cock and lines it up with your entrance, not even bothering to check if you were ready though you knew he didn’t care either way. Rough hands found their way to either side of your hips, a bruising grip as he pulled you back onto his dick, beginning to pound into you using years of pent up anger to fuel him. One hand slid it’s way up and around to the front of your throat, squeezing again over the bite marks he left behind earlier.

He paused for a second, his dick deep inside you and your breathing uneven and ragged at the sheer size of him. You hated that it felt good, hated that you wanted him to break you in half.

“Still think I only deserve a yes?” Leon saw the way your eyes rolled back as he thrusted in, noticed the hitch in your breathing and the way your hips have started rotating in circular motions since he stopped. He picked up on all of it, and now he was a man on a goddamn mission.

You felt him bend down to grab something off the floor, hearing the jingle of his belt as he replaced his hand with the cool leather, looping it through and pulling the end of it like it was a fucking leash. “Remember when I said I wouldn’t apologize for leaving bruises?”

You didn’t have time to answer before he started thrusting into you again, the pace somehow faster and harder than before and making you see white spots in your vision. He tugged back on the belt, the lack of oxygen to your brain making everything else heightened as if you were free falling off the Empire State building.

You reached your hands out to place flat against the mirror, sweaty palms leaving behind streaks as Leon’s dick broke you down over and over until you weren’t even holding yourself up, the belt around your neck the only thing keeping you from slamming your face into the countertop.

The sounds you let fall out of your mouth somewhere between a cry and a moan echoed off the walls and mixed with the sound of skin hitting skin. Leon suddenly releases his deathgrip on the belt and pulls it off your head, never letting his pace falter, and gripping it in one hand. You let your head fall forwards, gasping and entire body shaking, he lifts one of your legs up onto the edge of the sink driving himself deeper inside you, forcing out a choked “f-fucking sh-shit, Leon.”

The crack of leather against skin breaks through the noise, causing you to yell out and try to move towards the mirror and away. Leon’s grip is strong as he moves you back to the edge, “remember what I fucking said about not talking?” Another slap from the belt blanks out your mind, every thought in your head nothing short of a pleading cry for more.

“Pl-please.” You choke out through sobs, weak and feeble, and you can see the way it makes the fire in Leon’s eyes ignite. He looks like a predator, like something that could swallow you whole and leave no trace you existed, and it makes you sick realizing you would let him.

“There it is,” Leon groans, “begging like the fucking slut I knew you were. Too bad I don’t. fucking. care.” He throws the belt back to the floor, hands digging into your sides leaving crescent shaped imprints and red scratch marks. His voice is rough around the edges, eyes roaming every inch of your body as he continues to fuck into you.

You feel the sensations pooling in your lower stomach, the intensity of everything catching up with you as you continue sobbing and pleading with him to just fucking touch you more. But, a man of his word, Leon’s pace becomes sloppy and his moans grow louder as he reaches his high.

A final hard thrust jerks you forward, hands splayed in front of you as he throws his head back and groans, finishing inside you. He continues to fuck you through his orgasm, out of breath and covered in a layer of sweat, both of you significantly less drunk than when this all started. Leon pulls out and you let slip a small whine at the feeling of loss as you collapse onto the counter when he lets go of your hips. You attempt to catch your breath and ground yourself again as Leon walks around cleaning himself off with the towel he had used on his face earlier. He tosses the towel in your general direction, landing on your back and causing your body to twitch involuntarily.

You glance up in the mirror, looking at the bruises covering your neck and shoulders, and see Leon sliding his clothes back onto his body. “What are you doing?” You wanted it to sound more mean, but it comes out needy and desperate.

“I got what I wanted, now have a good fucking time explaining this to everybody else.” And with that,Leon flashes a terrifyingly calm smile as he gathers the rest of his things off the floor and walks out of the room, leaving you with his cum dripping down your thighs and slouched over, alone.

You let out a sigh, “I fucking hate him so much.”

[yesimwriting]

Would bestie reader just say that she and felix are soulmates?

For example: her and farleigh are talking about the future and what they want to do and she just says "i would probably work and move somewhere sunny because felix doesnt really like the rain". " You want to live with felix?" " OFC, hes my soumate"

Felix: 🥺

yes yes yes! omg they so would pull the platonic soulmate card

You don't know who decided to label group study sessions as 'productive', but you're convinced they've never actually been to one. As a concept, they're the perfect way to balance social needs and academic responsibilities. It's a way to focus on your school work without isolating yourself completely.

In practice, group study sessions are an academic-hang-out purgatory.

"Y'know how you asked to not be interrupted until you finished your organic bio reading, unless there was an emergency?" Farleigh's voice has now yanked you out of the world of protein and enzyme molecules.

You sigh. If this is him giving into his inability to not snark at you, you might have to pick up your text book and hit him over the head with it. "Is there an emergency?"

The dryness of your response does little to dissuade him. You lift your head slightly. The reading break that's being forced onto you is an opportunity to get ready to copy some bullet points into your notebook. You reach for your highlighter, but before your fingers can grasp it, Farleigh's pulling it out of reach.

You straighten, back pressing into the wooden back of the library's chair. He ignores your glare, thumb pushing the neon pink cap upwards before snapping it back into place.

"I'd be careful, Farleigh." Felix's chair shifts with a soft groan, all four of the chair's legs fully settling on the ground as he sits up and flattens his feet. "That's not one of her nice looks."

"You'd know."

You frown, some half thought out sarcastic retort balancing on the edge of your tongue. Felix beats you to the punch. "You'd know if you had any real friendships."

Farleigh presses down on your highlighter's cap, a quiet click interrupting his silence as it clicks into place. "Friendship. Is that what we're calling it?"

There's a knowingness to the comment that has a hint of warmth attempting to tinge your cheeks. You're used to the jokes and little comments about you and Felix, especially from Farleigh, but his tone hints at a sharpness you're not in the mood for. Sometimes he feels like pushing, turning his jokes and comments into something more. You've been in the library for some time now, you're sure the stillness is making him restless in a way that will only add to that.

"Is this the emergency you interrupted my reading for?"

He shakes his head once, forearm moving to rest against the table in front of you. "Theoretically," he starts, the single word drawn out in a way that has you rolling your eyes, "If Madison was seen leaving a party with Abigail's ex-boyfriend, would that count as an emergency?"

No way. Your jaw drops. Madison and Abigail, roommates that seem perpetually trapped in the outer orbit of Felix's friend group, started the year as total best friends. Then, one day, for reasons that no one you know has been able to figure out, everything turned into a sort of unspoken competition between them. It's such an odd dynamic, you and Farleigh have to talk about it every time there's an update.

"What?" You set your arms over your textbook, leaning forward to better listen. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"You wanted to read organic bio."

Farleigh knows exactly what he's doing. He sat on this piece of information and only dropped it when it became convenient to have something worth saying. "You knew before I said that." You turn in your seat to look over at Felix. "Did you know?"

"I spent the entire night with you," he says, "I know what you know."

Yeah, you and Felix were particularly invested in your own world the last time you went out together. The two of you spent most of the night trying drink combinations you'd normally never get, Felix laughing as your negative reactions grew more theatrical as the night went on. "Well, you're not very invested."

It's not an accusation. You know Felix well enough to know that he's rarely particularly interested in most gossip. A part of it might come from the fact that everyone goes out of their way to present themselves in certain ways when around Felix. Rumors about palpable passive aggression seem a lot less real when the people the rumors are about are constantly trying to gloss over any imperfections in his presence.

"You two are too invested." He turns his head to look at you, a small smile playing at his lips. "You only get along when you're gossiping."

You straighten, lifting an arm off of the table to poke Felix's arm. "We all need hobbies." You then turn your head forward to look at Farleigh, "Okay, tell me everything and do it in less than 5 minutes, or I'm not going to go back to studying."

Farleigh's eyes briefly drop towards the textbook in front of you. "You worry too much." The way he says it feels less concerned and more like an observation of something he finds grating. "We all know you're going to end up at John Hopkins." It lacks any type of inflection. It feels like fact. An inevitability.

Graduate school is currently a foreign, distant concept, and you'd like to keep it that way. You're not sure why, but picturing your future education isn't as easy as you had hoped it would be. It's as if there's some kind of mental wall blocking your ability to connect with the next step in becoming a doctor, when all your classes will revolve around the subjects you don't love and you'll have to dissect and watch more surgeries than ever.

You tap our fingers against the wooden surface in front of you. You're not sure what the right kind of response to this type of thing is. "Uh--realistically, John Hopkins is far from everyone I know, and I don't think Felix would like Maryland, so..."

Farleigh raises an eyebrow as he finally sets down your highlighter. "You're factoring in Felix?" The question is still registering as Farleigh gestures in Felix's direction. "You want to live with him?"

"Yeah." While a lot of your future is blurry in your mind, Felix is clear, certain. "Yeah, he's my soulmate."

Farleigh's eyes widen slightly at the candidness of your admission. It didn't feel that heavy when you said it. There are a lot of ways for someone to be your soulmate.

"You want to--to live together after this?" You turn your neck to look over at Felix. He's already facing you, but his eyes are focused on his lap. "Like with me?"

"Yeah..." You admit again as you pull your hands towards you. Maybe you shouldn't have said anything without thinking. "Do you not want to live with me?"

"No, I do," he forces out the words quickly, his gaze briefly falling towards you. "I didn't realize you were--" He clears his throat, forcing himself to straighten. "Soulmate." Felix's hand reaches for the underside of your chair, pulling you towards him with no warning. "I'm your soulmate."

You're never speaking without thinking again. "There are a lot of ways to be someone's soulmate, so don't start."

His fingers move up the edge of the chair before finding your knee. He's beaming. "'M not starting anything."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy

[kawaiibarty]

unedited jegulus oneshot at exactly 1,4k words based on this insta post (please check out the artist they're so cool) the ending is so rushed because i cba 😭😭😭😭😭

Saying that Regulus wasn't used to this would be one of the greatest understatements he'd ever make, and given his past, well that says a lot.

It happened when he and James were in the library, and where Regulus was meant to be studying, he'd found himself staring at the other boy intently. He couldn't help it, anyway. The boy that was usually loud, chatting non-stop to ensure that Regulus was painfully aware of his presence now sat with his nose buried deep in a book he'd chosen from the shelf at random. Except he hadn't turned the page in about seven full minutes and Regulus was beginning to feel weirdly irritated by the fact that James hadn't said anything since he'd asked to join him (which would be a groundbreaking first).

“Good book?” He finally asked, and James jerked, clutching the book towards him as if it would run away. Regulus frowned at the startled ‘deer-in-headlights’ look on the other boy's face.

“Uh, yeah?” James said, cheeks turning pink, and he must have noticed the vaguely irritated way Regulus watched him because he stared back at the open book. He gestured to it rather weakly and said, “Very interesting. Yes.”

“So tell me what it's about.”

James balked, looking rather stupid with his mouth hanging open. Regulus sighed, running a hand through his hair, cursing himself mentally as he asked “Potter, are you okay? And don't give me that look, I'm just as surprised as you are that I care.”

James' blush spread to his ears and he shook his head, then nodded and when Regulus sighed again he shrugged, defeated.

“If I wasn't, there's not much you could do to help anyway.” James said, looking back at the book, trying his best to feign nonchalance but Regulus wasn't stupid. He reached forward, pulling the book away from James.

“Hey, that's not fair.” James grumbled indignantly but made no move to take it back.

“Come on, Potter. You force shit out of me the same way, have a taste of your own medicine.”

James worried his lip, looking down at the table, “I told you. You can't do anything about it. It's stupid.”

Regulus groaned, sitting all the way back in his chair.

“Potter, between you and I, I sort of actually care about you, okay? Seriously, if you have something that's bothering you,” he caught James’ eyes, finishing weakly under the curious scrutiny, “you can tell me...”

Silence dragged and Regulus wondered if he'd pushed too hard. The golden boy of Gryffindor tower looked as though he hadn't slept for days and Regulus told himself that he was right to ask, after all James’ eyes were far too tired for someone who is usually smiling at everything.

Regulus opened his mouth, then closed it. An overwhelming urge to bundle the other boy up in a giant blanket and stroke his hair until he fell asleep washed over him. He cringed, attempting to shake the thought out of his head and promptly failed when he turned his eyes back to James. The Gryffindor looked pathetic and he wanted to kiss him square on the forehead. He couldn't stop himself, Regulus let his mouth betray him. Just this once.

“I could hug you, if that's what you want.” As James laughed, Regulus thought that the betrayal was worth it. It was small but it was something.

“Did you mean to say that out loud, Reggie?” a tinge of humour, almost entirely sincere.

“Hm, maybe. What gave it away?”

James perked up slightly, head tilted to the side in that curious way of his, “I'm pretty sure that when you don't like a thought you've made you screw your face up and all. You do it a lot anyway.”

Regulus scoffed, a little embarrassed “No, that's ridiculous. What's wrong with you? You've never turned down a hug before, anyway”

“Real smooth subject change, and I never did turn it down. I just—” James smiled a little bashfully this time, fingers picking at the edge of the table, “— uhm, it's really nothing. I, uhm…”

Regulus mused that he must have sighed a million times by then. He rolled his eyes, palms smacking against the table.

“You're frustrating me.”

James mimicked him, “You're frustrating me.” He punctuated it with an exaggerated pout, slamming his hands on the table and flinching at the noise. Stupid Potter.

“Okay, so you want to be hugged?” Regulus would be lying if he said he'd feel disappointed if the hug was properly rejected, but he kept his face as neutral as possible.

James hid himself behind his hands, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses, “Yeaaah, I guess.”

“Ugh, what do you mean, ‘I guess’? It's either yes or no.”

“I'm like,” James reached out to thin air, waving his hands in little circles and Regulus would've found it endearing if he wasn't itching with mild irritation, “I don't know? Like, uhm…”

“Merlin's fucking beard, Potter. Spit. It. Out.”

“You're so tiny!” James screwed his face up, shaking his head.

“What? I am not.” Regulus didn't bother with being embarrassed by how defiant he sounded because James Bloody Potter calling him tiny was not something he wanted to hear after being picked on by Barty and Sirius for his height every time he breathed.

“I mean, like—” he gestured to Regulus, then to himself and when it seemed words failed him he groaned, hands coming back to his eyes.

“I hug you right?”

Regulus squinted at him, “Uh huh…” every word that James sputtered out concerned him more but he let the other boy speak. He wanted to hear everything.

“And then, uhm, yeah it's like,” James gestured stupidly again, “I hug you, and you can, you know? Lay your head on my chest.”

Understanding dawned on Regulus, he smiled, then caught himself and schooled his expression as best as he could. Pointless, considering James had already noticed and the Gryffindor’s face was redder than Regulus had had the privilege of seeing. He looked dumb. In a cute way.

“You're scrunching your face up again.” James mumbled.

“So you want to feel smaller than me when you're being hugged?”

There was a moment of Regulus waiting expectantly for a vacant James to answer and when he didn't, Regulus nodded, feeling his cheeks heat up as he stood, pulling a stool away from the bookshelf behind them.

“I'll take that as a yes, then.”

Regulus stood on the stool, arms held open.

“What are you—”

“I'm not waiting all day, Potter.”

“I didn't take you for a jokester.” James said, something vulnerable in his voice caused Regulus' heart to stutter in his chest.

“I'm not. Now come on, before someone sees me standing here like an imbecile.”

Slowly, James stood too. He looked everywhere but at Regulus, inching forward like a little kid afraid of tripping over something.

“James. It's fine.” Regulus’ attempt at sounding genuine must have worked because as soon as he'd said that, James' forehead was touching his chest. Regulus cautiously wrapped his arms around the boy, feeling arms snake around him at the same time.

James sighed, breath hitching a little. They stood like that for a bit, Regulus praying to whatever muggle god was out there to mute his racing heartbeat.

“So…are you okay, Potter?” he asked as a distraction.

Fists clenched into Regulus' shirt, another little sigh. A little bit like a hiccup. Regulus’ heart did that jumpy thing again.

“Potter, I asked—”

“Say it again.” muffled and softer than Regulus had heard James speak in his entire schooling career at Hogwarts. A lot of firsts for one day, it started to make Regulus dizzy.

“Are you okay, Potter?”

James shook his head defiantly, probably messing up Regulus’ shirt and tie in the process, “Nah uh.”

Regulus fought a tired groan from escaping, gritting his teeth he managed; “Use your words, you baby.”

“My name.”

"I did—" Oh.

Oh. Regulus was properly blushing now.

“Oh, uh. James, are you okay?” he whispered, knees weak with embarrassment.

James' grip relaxed and he pulled himself away gently, looking up at Regulus. A dopey smile plastered on his face, eyes a little watery.

“Yeah, I think I'm good.”

“Okay.”

Regulus really, honest to Merlin could not stop himself this time as he leant forward, kissing James on the forehead.

He was stupid. In a cute way. So it's fine.

[muxshwriting]

arsonist's lullabye

Kaz Brekker x reader

summary: when Kaz Brekker is poisoned by a hallucinogen, it’s not Jordie he sees, it’s you || warnings: poisoning, death, revenge, pekka rollins || word count: 685 || masterlist

Kaz could feel himself falling backwards but can’t stop it. He closes his eyes and lets the darkness consume him.

The warmth around him takes him by surprise and he opens his eyes to find himself on the floor of a merchants shop. You’re standing behind the counter. You, who used to be friends with Kaz before everything and grew up with him and Jordie. Even after everything happened, you kept in touch, always offering a helping hand when you could.

"What brings Kaz Brekker into my shop at this time of day?"

One last thing, you were also dead. You had died at sixteen when the Dime Lions had raided your store and taken everything you’d worked so hard to get. Kaz had been the one to find you that morning. He had sat opposite your body, unable to touch you but unable to look away. He had done everything he could to make sure you were buried nicely and left in peace for the rest of time.

You hadn’t deserved the hand you’d been dealt and to see you standing in front of him now was jarring, to say the least. The woman in front of him now wasn’t the sixteen year old that had died, you were the same age as Kaz, all grown up like you should’ve been.

"Kaz?"

Kaz took a breath. "You’re dead."

"Everyone dies at some point Kaz. I know I’m dead because I’m not actually here. This is all in your mind Kaz, so enjoy yourself."

"What?"

You lift yourself onto the counter. "Your mind showed you me for a reason, what are you searching for?"

Kaz stayed silent, pulling himself to his feet. It was then that he realised, he wasn’t wearing his gloves, his hands were bare.

"What do you want Brekker?"

"I want revenge." Kaz’s expression hardened. "I want Pekka Rollins dead, for me, for Jordie and for you."

"Kaz, he doesn’t even know who you are."

Kaz sneered, "He knows Kaz Brekker."

"And I’ve known you since before Kaz Brekker was even born." You say to him. "Don’t lecture me about the past."

"If you have all the answers, what are you here for?" Kaz angrily asked, getting more annoyed at your mirage.

"There are never many options in this world Kaz, especially in Ketterdam, you need to learn to use what you have."

"Stop speaking in riddles."

"We all have demons Kaz Brekker. You don't forget about them and they don't go away."

"What the fuck does that even mean?"

You laugh at his misery and confusion. "You need to wake the fuck up. You're living in the past, letting your ghosts dictate your future and letting yourself be led by them instead of by yourself."

"Says the ghost."

"I'm telling you to move on Kaz. Wake up and do something for you, not me or Jordie." Your voice was getting louder and louder, trying to get Kaz to listen to you.

"Do something for me!? I've only been doing things for me my whole life. If I didn't, I'd me dead. My hands are covered in blood I've spilt, for me!"

"Look at your hands Kaz Brekker."

He does look down at his ungloved hands. They're absolutely impeccable and spotless, if a little pale.

"If you are the infamous ‘Dirtyhands’, get your hands dirty Kaz Brekker. Get your hands fucking dirty!" You yell. "Stop being a coward and stand up."

Kaz snapped his eyes opened, pushing someone's hand away from him as he took his first real breath in minutes. The harsh reality of your words was starting to sink in, except they weren't really your words.

How was he supposed to move on the way you wanted him to? He had to make your death worth something, make your life worth something even more. How was he supposed to forget everything that had happened?

But you had also said that demons are always there. So he should use his demons however he wants because they're his demons. They do what he wants and the whole world is at his fingertips...

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

[aperfectlylesbian]

AAA's incorret quotes (+ Original Characters from my AU)

(Why did I do that? I have no idea, but it seemed fun)

-

Rio: Agatha keeps fucking me and I can't remember the safeword, happily.

-

Agatha: My skincare routine is not having feelings for men.

Alice: Look guys, I need help.

-

Lilia: Are you getting enough sleep?

Agatha: Sometimes when I sneeze my eyes close.

-

Jen: Love help?

Lilia: Financial help?

Agatha: Emotional help?

Rio: Help moving a body?

*Everybody looks at Rio*

Rio: What?

-

Agatha: I'd kill someone if you asked me to.

Rio: I'm pretty sure you'd kill someone even if I didn't ask.

Rio: And mostly I don't ask.

-

Tiger-Lily: You look like an angel.

Jen: Really?

Jen: Oh wait. You mean a biblical angel.

-

Lilia: You remind me of the ocean.

Rio: Because I'm deep and mysterious?

Lilia: No, because you're full of salt and you scare people.

-

Tiger-Lily: My mom is calling… Ey, mami.

Vidalia: Come on guys, stop. She's trying to talk to her mom.

Stephanie: *loud fake sexual noises*

Billy: EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Lyra: *is asleep*

Lily-Rose: *gets really close to the phone* Ey, mami.

(Lyra is one of Alice's second cousins, and Stephanie is a distant relative of Lilia)

-

Tiger-Lily: Not since sharing a uterus with my twin sister have I been so unhappy sitting next to someone.

-

Lily-Rose: The fastest way to a mami’s heart is through ch-

Agatha: Chest cavity.

Lily-Rose:

Lily-Rose: Cheese, mama. She loves cheese.

Lilia: Trust me, just tell Alice that you like her.

-

Tiger-Lily: Remain CALM! *slaps Billy multiple times*

-

Agatha: Yeah Jen, what's the worst that could happen?

Jen: I'm glad you asked!

Jen, taking out a huge binder: I've got a million different horrible scenarios in my head and written down a few.

-

Alice: That’s illegal, right?

Rio: Why do you care? Are you a fucking cop?

Alice: Actually I was but-

Rio: Then shut the fuck up.

-

Agatha, talking to Tiger-Lily: When I was your age-

Rio, mocking Agatha: When I was your height.

Agatha:

Agatha: Listen here you little shit-

-

Rio: Wake up, nena! The sun is shining!

Lily-Rose: And...? What do you want me to do, photosynthesis? I'm not one of your plants! *angrily covers her head with blanket*

-

Billy: Always stay positive!

Billy: *falls down the stairs*

Billy: Wow! I got down those stairs so fast!

-

Tiger-Lily: I'm not some innocent little witch, okay?! I read romance books from the adult section of the library!

Agatha: You what?

Tiger-Lily: Uh, nevermind, mama, y'know, they're pretty tame, it's not-

Agatha: Let me see your library card now.

-

Lily-Rose: The real reason Howl kept his castle moving was tax evasion.

Tiger-Lily: This may sounds like a joke but I read the book. This is the literal reason.

(For those who are wondering who Tiger-Lily and Lily-Rose are, they're Aradia and Abelia's middle names, almost everyone they have known since they were little calls them that)

-

Agatha: Gasp! HOW DARE YOU CALL ME A LADY?!

Agatha: I'M A BITCH! Thank you very much!

-

Rio: Lirio.

Tiger-Lily: Si, mami?

Rio: What’s sexting?

Tiger-Lily: ... I'm not having this conversation with you. ROSE, COME HERE!

-

Lilia: Breathe, just breathe.

Billy: I’ve done nothing with my life! I’m a failure!

-

Rio: Awww, that never bothered you before.

-

Agatha: We can't lose. Because we have this. *points to their chest*

Alice: We have heart?

Agatha: Heart? No, me. I'm pointing at myself. I'm going to win this for us.

Rio: So you like cats?

Agatha: Yeah.

Rio: *tries to impress her by slowly pushing a glass off the table*

-

Lily-Rose: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this...

Stephanie: *pulls out card from deck* Now, was this your card?

Lily-Rose: Oh my-

-

Rio: I’m not just some trophy wife, y’know.

Agatha: You’re a trophy wife?! What kinda contest did I win?!

-

Jen: Is there a cactus where your heart should be?

Agatha: What’s up your ass this morning!

Alice: *walks in* ... Hey.

Agatha: Hmm… nevermind.

Tiger-Lily: *stops mug halfway* In front of my tea?

-

Agatha: Dating me is fun

Rio: Yeah definitely is sweetheart

Agatha: You get a comedian, a mental patient and a pornstar all in one

Rio: I’m lucky, i know

-

Jen: That's it. Are you done bitching?

Agatha: That was just a warm up.

Tiger-Lily: Good thing I brought some popcorn.

-

Jen: I just want someone to take me out.

Alice: On a date?

Agatha: With a sniper gun?

Rio: Both if you're not a coward.

-

Tiger-Lily, seeing the Wiccan outfit: I can't take you seriously wearing that.

Billy: Aw, you take me seriously at all?

Tiger-Lily: Fair point.

-

Agatha: I wonder who’s ruining my life.

Agatha: *looks in the mirror*

Agatha: So we meet again.

-

Lilia: Do you take constructive criticism?

Jen: No, only cash or credit.

-

Billy: It’s beautiful outside this morning!

Alice: It’s 2AM.

Billy: It’s beautiful outside!

Lilia: We’re indoors.

Billy: It’s beautiful!

Agatha: It’s storming.

Billy: It’s!

-

Agatha: sSSSHIT- I BURNT MY LIP-

Jen: Why the fuck would you even drink coffee with a METAL STRAW in the FIRST PLACE??

Agatha: BECAUSE WE WERE OUT OF THE PLASTIC ONES!

-

Agatha: Fuck capitalism. it's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities.

Agatha, playing monopoly: sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor.

-

Rio: I think we can be evil, as a treat.

Agatha: We?

Rio: We ;)

-

Lily-Rose: I cut my finger

Lyra: I can kiss it so it'll get better

Lily-Rose: That works?

Lyra: Yeah? My mum used to do it when I was little

*later*

Lily-Rose: I need you to punch me in the mouth

Tiger-Lily: Fucking finally

-

Agatha: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming

Jen: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

-

Alice: Wait, I thought you could drive.

Agatha: I didn't learn yet. I'm busy witch!

Lily-Rose: I got it covered.

Alice:

Agatha:

Lilia:

Jen:

Alice: You're like, 15.

Lily-Rose: And?

-

Rio: Where can I get your blood.

Agatha: It's free but you have to catch me.

-

Lily-Rose: Dinosaurs aren’t extinct! I mean, mami’s still walking around.

Tiger-Lily, fighting back laughter: Pfft! Rose! That wasn’t nice!

Agatha: She isn’t wrong, though, hon.

Rio: *groan of frustration*

-

Agatha: I'm emotionless!

Rio: Says the person who confessed to me while smiling, blushed while dating, and cried when we got married.

Agatha: Shit.

-

This a mess. I probably won't post another one of these, because probably almost no one will like it, but, yeah, it was fun.

[kix-mm]

Whatever happens... A, B, and C

"Hey C? Buddy? How're you doing in there? Are you ready to come out yet?"

Their question was met with a cold silence, but B could do nothing about the unpleasant response. It was meant to still be a secret between B and A, with the idea being that once they had reached their third month's anniversary of their relationship that they would tell C. But the surprise came a little too early.

A bent down. "Have they still not come out yet? It's been an hour..." They spoke in a soft and hopeless tone, which was conflicting with their usual upbeat personality.

"No..." B replies while eying the bathroom door. "I just hope they'll be okay... what if they don't like us anymore after this? I don't want to lose them. This is exactly what we were trying to prevent..." he says while silently acknowledging the irony of this whole situation.

B knocks on the little door again. "C? Please come out...". "N-no!..." came a soft squeak, which very briefly settled B and A's worry that their partner had somehow managed to escape through the window. They knew it would actually be impossible for C, but the fear was still there, C had a tendency to accomplish the impossible, such as dating two people who were secretly giants.

The two shared a look of grief, and A could see how B's mind was tumbling: "What if they break up with us? W-what if they leave us?" B asked with a choked voice. "Then we let them... it's not right to hold someone hostage. That would definitely make us monsters. C is already so overwhelmed..." A spoke with pain in their heart. At first, A wanted to pry the door open and get ahold of C, but now that they've thought things through it would most likely never go well.

"I miss them..." B hugged themselves tighter. "I miss them so much, and they're right here. They're so close, and we're losing them A... what do we do..?" A sighs "I don't know..."

Hours continued to fly by till the early morning, around 4. C finally decided to have a peek outside the bathroom to investigate the silence. They almost yelped when he saw how close the two were to the door, A was snuggled up to B, they both looked exhausted. To C, this was a relief. This was their chance to get the hell out of here... C grabbed their keys and bag off the counter and quietly made their way to the door. They took their time to observe their home for a final time and made some connections, such as why the ceiling was so high and why the two always had a glimmer in their eyes whenever they saw each other... C always thought it was because they were in love, which may have been the case, but also because the two shared a deep secret with one another... one that they never deemed necessary to tell C despite being their partner. Maybe C's insecure thoughts were right about them being nothing more than a third wheel.

Suddenly, he noticed B's eyes flicker open. In a panic, C rushes to the door, his steps waking the both of them. He pulled on the door and... nothing. It didn't budge, he tried again, then he tried pushing, nothing. Finally, he looked up from the handle and saw A's hand pressed against the top. Fear struck his already broken heart as he felt it sink to his stomach. He spun back towards the bathroom to see that his safe haven had been blocked off by B.

C looked up at the two with frantic eyes, unable to get his legs to move. He had no real other pace to hide as their layout was rather open. B gently reached to make contact with C, but C jolted away as if B's fingers were knives. "D-Don't touch me!" C hated how the fear rang in his voice, how he stammered in front of them. C never was one to speak up for himself. He was the timid and soft-spoken one of the three.

B and A kept their distance, looking down at C with pleading eyes, please C please don't go. Let us explain, let us hold you, show you that we would never hurt you.

But their silent pleading fell on deaf ears. C stared at the two with blurry eyes, tears obscuring his vision. "Let me go." he rests his hand on the handle, looking at A. Please let me get out of here.

A & B share a look before returning their eyes to C. "Let us first explain ourselves... please Cc?" B pleaded with an all too familiar nickname that made C feel uneasy hearing at the moment.

C's legs were ready to make a run for it as soon as either one made an attempt to grab him again, he was particularly eying B for that distinct twitch they'd show when they lost their patience. This would be C's only chance to speak their mind before something were to happen to them. "I... no, I've heard enough, I've... I've seen enough. I don't know why you'd keep such a big secret from me for so long! I'm not a stranger. We've known each other for years! And not once was I ever considered your equal! I-I'm just that easy to get forget about, aren't I? The small third party! Quick and easy to get rid of!" C's breathing quickened, and his blood boiled, yet he still kept his voice lowered. Regret began to almost instantly set in after he was done talking back at the two in such a tone, he swore that the two were now staring right through him. How dare he speak to them that way, how dare he try to question their decisions when he was so disposable to them?

Instead, A let out a very pitiful sniffle, a gate of tears rolled down their cheeks. "We're sorry, we're so, so sorry... we really messed up this whole plan." they say while trying to wipe all those messy tears off. Wanting nothing more than to be given a second chance to try and be better at how they handled the situation. They wanted to explain how scared they were of C's reaction and how they knew he would be scared if they had revealed this secret any sooner.

B held A's hand before looking at C. "C... no, no C, you're not! Don't say that! Please get that out of your head it was never meant to get so out of hand. We swear we would have told you a-and it was supposed to be a whole setup and everything!" Slowly B moved their hand closer to C. C hadn't even noticed B's hand. they were too occupied by their heart ringing in their ears and the sight of A sobbing in B's arms. Even B looked completely heartbroken.

When C suddenly felt B's hand wrap around his waist and legs, he began to frantically squirm, watching and attempting to push away any enclosing fingers that hugged his body. "n-no stop! Stop!!" C yelped. "I-it's okay! It's okay, I won't drop you, I promise you C..." B spoke with a gentle yet strained voice, trying to hide the pump in his throat as he felt his panicked lover squirm and scratch. Wincing a little as he felt warm tears drip down his fingers.

A quickly wiped his tears and let B open their hand. The two had talked for hours about what it would be like to hold C in their hands, how they wanted C to take naps, demand being held, how soft he would feel... this would probably not be the case anymore... "Cc..." A spoke softly. B looked at C. "I'm sorry I... I just wanted to be near you. Please don't be scared, A and I... we were trying to prevent this reaction, but it just happened. A-and now everything seems forced and-and the timing is terrible and we're scared we're going to lose you! We don't want to lose you C. Please, please believe us, we promise there's nothing else to hide from you, we will tell you everything... let us prove it to you... we will do anything to make up for this mess."

C was a shivering mess. They looked at both lovers like they were predators despite the duo's best attempts to calm him, giving gentle rubs and holding him against their chest. Talking to him with a soft and sweet voice that tried to reassure him that he was safe and that they would never hurt him while also repeatedly apologizing. This continued till the sun rose, and C finally passed out on B's chest.

The two laid him in bed, their poor C was exhausted, their cheeks stained with tear marks and their eyes were puffy, their body never stopped shivering and every now and then they'd jolt and mumble incoherently. The two looked at each other with equally stained cheeks and puffy eyes. They decided it would be best for them to shrink down to the size C was familiar with. B held C's hand and gently kissed their forehead while A kissed C's cheek and snuggled up to spoon him. The 3 got cuddled up together and fell into a deep sleep... hopefully, when C woke up, they'd be more willing to talk. But they couldn't be certain. All they could really focus on was that C was in their arms, and hopefully, after some time, they'd be able to sleep together without fear.

[brotherwtf]

Prompt: "We're both adults, we can sleep in one bed."

a classic a classic indeed

----

Their barracks at Thorpe Abbotts were missing cots, something about shipping things over being more difficult because of war or some bullshit, and now Gale was forced to sleep in the same cot as John. Gale already knew it would be a cozy fit, John's so big and broad and it looked like the bed would only fit him, but Gale would rather squeeze in with his best friend than sleep on the floor.

John, of course, was perfectly fine with sleeping with Gale, actually pushed for him to share a cot as opposed to making the enlisted men share, and Gale tried not to get dizzy with the implication. Gale was going to make a fuss, but John quickly shut him up.

"We're both adults, we can sleep in one bed,"

The first night was awkward and uncomfortable. They somehow managed to jam themselves shoulder to shoulder, half of John's upper body hanging off and Gale positioned awkwardly against John's arm. John jokingly offered to spoon, but Gale shut that down before he allowed himself to even think about the possibility.

It was all fine and dandy until John came back blazingly drunk.

Gale had turned in early that night, noticing the signs of John getting too rough and rowdy for Gale's liking, and Gale spent the entire walk home trying to convince himself he left because he was tired and not because he felt sick at the way John's hands splayed across some dames waist. He lay in his, their, cot and tried to think of what he would say, if anything, when John came back.

John came back earlier than Gale had suspected and immediately splayed himself across Gale's frame. He shoved him off and assumed their awkward sleeping position, but grunted when John just laid atop him again.

"Get off me, Bucky," Gale hisses and John groans something sluggish into his shoulder.

Gale's heart is pounding a mile a minute, and he hopes John can't hear the way it beats against his chest from where he's lying. It's so close, John feels so big on top of him, and Gale is trying his best to calm his breathing.

He can feel John shake his head and furrow somehow deeper on top of Gale, which does nothing to calm his racing heart.

"Nah, Buck, wanna cuddle," John slurs and Gale rolls his eyes.

"Get off me, you big lug," Gale says and successfully pushes John onto his side of the bed.

Gale half expects, wishes, that that will be the end of it, John will pass out and wake up not remembering any of it while Gale is plagued with memories, but John just looks at him with steely blue eyes.

"Go to sleep, Bucky," Gale urges.

John keeps looking at him, tentative hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair that covers Gales eyes. Gale can't breathe, doesn't dare move as John moves his fingers down and hovers them over his lips. They're warm and rough, and Gale tries not to think about what they would feel like in his mouth.

"You're so pretty, Gale," John mutters and Gale gasps quietly.

John almost never calls Gale by his real name, always choosing to call him by his own, and it shocks Gale to his core.

"John..." Gale begins but is cut off by the soft press of John's lips against his.

It makes his brain and heart stop but he doesn't pull away, gently moving his lips against John's. John pulls away almost as soon as he kisses him, and Gale immediately misses the softness of his lips. He doesn't realize he's closed his eyes until he opens them to see John with an unreadable expression on his face.

"I'm sorry, Buck, I shouldn't have done that, fuck I'm sorry," John worries and Gale huffs a small laugh.

John looks at him confused, eyebrows furrowed together as he studies Gale's expression. He opens his mouth to ask something before Gale leans in and kisses him again, almost as chaste as John's.

"Does that answer your question?" Gale asks and John chuckles lowly.

"Sure does," John says and dives back into Gale's lips.

[oneforthemunny]

sinister play |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: how you and rockstar!eddie meet.

reader has the last name klein, just for the purposes of the story.

contains: language, alcohol, drug use, reader and eddie absolutely despise each other and are very mean to each other so prepare for that, degrading, pornography watching, humiliation, spanking, hair pulling, fingering fem receiving, p in v rough sex, choking (light), no aftercare minors dni 18+

Los Angeles, 1991

The bass from the speakers, loud and booming, shaking the club with every riff of the guitar. Whatever band on stage was shredding, desperate fans and wannabe's jumping and shrilling the lyrics to some angry, grunge song you couldn't even understand.

"You want a drink?" Farrah asked over the loud music, leaning in close with a wide, burgundy lipped smile, a little smudged around the corner from the boy she was dancing with earlier.

You nodded, letting her pull you through the crowds, back to the bar in VIP. You weren't even sure why you left your secluded section. You could hear the band just fine from the confined leather couches and private bar upstairs.

"What'll it be?" The bartender asked, lanky, with shaggy locks that he kept tossing or blowing up out of his eyes. He attempted to give you a flirty smile, which you half heartedly returned.

"I want a double shot of vodka, extra limes." You said, slapping the crisp, one hundred-dollar bill on the mahogany wood.

"I'll have another cosmo, please." Farrah giggled to the bartender, batting her eyes sweetly to him.

"Coming right up, ladies." The bartender grinned, pocketing the bill with a sultry wink your way.

"Oh my God," Farrah gasped, grabbing your arm before you could scoff. "Holy shit, ok, don't look, but look, but don't make it obvious, ok-"

"-what?" You huffed, craning your head over your shoulder.

"No! I said don't make it obvious." Farrah squealed, manicured hand pushing your face back towards her. "Do you know who just walked in?"

You frowned. "No, I couldn't see them."

"That's Corroded Coffin." Farrah whispered, eyes lighting up with excitement. "Oh my God, you know them. You know, they're that rock group? They're kinda nasty, but so fuckin' hot. They have that one song that's about the stripper and-and the cocaine?"

"Wow, that really narrows it down." You scoffed sarcastically, turning to look over your shoulder again.

They certainly looked the rock band part, that was for sure. Five guys, some with Mohawks, shags, all in some sort of black leather, heavily tatted and pierced. Two were even wearing sunglasses, inside the dark club.

You rolled your eyes hard. "Jesus, they look like they're playing fucking dress up." You muttered, nodding to the bartender when he slipped you your drink. "Whoever their stylist is should be fired for that. The most stereotypical garb I've ever seen."

Farrah smirked, thanking the bartender, sitting her pink drink giggly. "I think they look hot." She wiggled her brows at you playfully. "You don't wanna fuck a rockstar?"

You laughed. "I have fucked a rockstar." You gave her a pointed look. "A few, actually, or did you forget?" Farrah giggled. "And so have you Miss Von Abel."

"Yeah, but not a real, rock, rockstar, Miss Klein." Farrah smirked over the lip of her glass. Her eyes bulged, sputtering on her drink. "Holy shit, they're coming over here."

You grimaced. "Ew, no they're not."

"Yes, they are, holy shit, be nice." Farrah muttered, looking down at her glass, sultry and unsuspecting, posed.

You snorted into your drink, downing the rest of it before lifting your glass, motioning to the bartender that you wanted another.

"And I'll have what she's having," A voice from behind you purred. You didn't move. "Except make it a tequila. Patron or Casa, I'm not picky."

The chair beside you screeched against the floor, so loud you could hear it over the music. Leather and wild, dark curls clouded the vision in the corner of your eyes, a wolfish grin baring perfect, shiny white teeth.

"Hi, there." The man greeted, a low purr.

You looked over at him, eyeing him up fully. The ripped jeans, band tee, spiked jewelry, and worst of all- leather jacket. You scoffed, he really was a walking cliche.

"Hi," You snipped, bored and unimpressed. You turned to Farrah, watching as she giggled and leaned closer to the other boy, his spiked hair and ringed fingers drumming on the edge of her glass.

"I'm Eddie." The boy next to you said, tongue rolling on the inside of his mouth.

You nodded, sighing slowly. "I didn't ask." You replied coldly, stirring your empty drink with the slim black straw.

Eddie paused, blinking for a moment. He hadn't been ignored and rejected like this since high school, since before he left Hawkins. Treated and casted out like he was nothing, like he was nobody.

His fingers tapped on the bar, angry and furiously, buzzing from the embarrassment and the effects of the cocaine. He looked back over at you, squinting in the low light.

"I know you." Eddie said, pointing a finger at you.

"No, you don't." You huffed, rolling your eyes.

"No, I do." Eddie shook his head, feet tapping on the floor. "How do I know you? Fuck, you're not friends with Aria are you?"

"No." You snapped, irritated.

Eddie twisted his lips in thought, running a hand down his face. "Fuck, I know I know you." He huffed, leaning past you. "Gare, why do I know this chick?" He asked, hitching his thumb towards you.

You scoffed, nose snarling in disgust. Farrah grimaced, looking at you with a pleading look. Gareth looked at you, tilting his head to the side. "You're Victor Klein's daughter, right?"

"Yeah, that's her." Farrah grinned, wide eyed and giggly. "How did you know that?"

Eddie's ringed hand slapped down on the bar loudly, making you jump. He snapped his finger, and pointed at you. "That's fucking right. Your dad's that movie guy. Makes all those movies, holy shit." Eddie laughed, looking up at you with a dimpled grin. It made you flush slightly, but your face remained neutral, soured. "And your mom was that model for Playboy back in the day? That super hot one."

Eddie's eyes rolled over you, taking in your black, slip dress, short and low in all the right places, straight off the Versace runway. He licked his lips, eyes gleaming when he looked at you. "I can tell you two are related." He grinned, hand slipping on your thigh.

"Ugh," You groaned, shoving his hand off. You grabbed your drink just as the bartender sat it down, standing up from your high top seat. "Farrah, I'll be outside. I need a smoke."

Eddie tried not to falter, not letting his face fall at the rejection, at how you brushed him off and discarded him like he was nothing. He wasn't used to this, to women ignoring him rather than throwing themselves at him. He was Eddie fucking Munson, rockstar with a notable ten inch cock that anyone would be lucky to fuck.

"Shit, I could go for a smoke too, baby. Let me-"

"Look, I don't know if you're too coked out or just really fucking stupid, but I'm not interested in being seen with a C-list rockstar poser." You snapped, teeth bared and angry at him.

"C-List?" Eddie gawked, scoffing in offense. "Excuse me, sweetheart, do you know who the fuck I am?" Eddie growled, ringed hand shoved in his chest.

"No," You snarled smugly, eyes narrowed dangerously towards him. "But you certainly know who I am."

Eddie scoffed when you walked away, heels snapping and clacking across the floor all the way to the balcony outside. He grit his teeth, inked hand fisting the glass, throwing back the tequila in one gulp, grimacing gently at the burn in his throat and nose.

He turned to Farrah, lips pursed furiously. "Your friend always such a fucking bitch?" He growled.

Gareth threw his hands out, head nodding suggestively towards Farrah. She didn't seem to be phased, you'd certainly been called worse. "She's really nice, actually. One of the sweetest people you'll ever meet." She paused, lips twisting in thought. "If she likes you." Her eyes flashed to Eddie with a slight grimace. "She doesn't like you."

Eddie scoffed, shoving his chair back. "Yeah, well, fuck her too." He growled, stomping off to the bathroom, fishing in his pockets for the small baggie of coke.

***

You took a long drag of your cigarette, balancing your drink in the other hand, pressed up against the railing of the night club, chatting with Arnie Brandenburg, a long time friend. The two of you had grown up in Beverly Hills together, down the street. Your moms went to the same Jane Fonda fitness classes, always leaving you two in the country club nursery.

"I mean, Greenwich is nice for Connecticut, but it's just not the Hamptons, ya know?" Arnie grinned.

You laughed, nodding in agreement. "Honestly, you sound like my mother." You rolled your eyes. "Daddy talked about selling the Hamptons house once since it's on the East Coast, and she about died. Wouldn't talk to him for a week." You snickered, shaking your head.

"I would too!" Arnie threw his hands out dramatically. "I mean, if you're not going to the Hamptons in the summertime, then what are you doing? Imagine celebrating the Fourth of July anywhere else, it would be a crime-"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ." A voice over your shoulder groaned.

You turned, angrily and fierce, ready to lash at whoever dared to interrupt you. You were less than surprised to see it was Eddie. He shook his head, forearms leaning over the rail, smoking his own cigarette slowly.

"Excuse me?" You snapped, eyes narrowed in challenge.

Eddie looked up at you, unimpressed and unfazed. "The two of you sound so fuckin' shallow, holy shit." Eddie scoffed, shaking his head.

You gawked as Arnie blushed furiously, looking down at his drink in embarrassment. "We were having a private conversation-"

"-yeah? That why you're talkin' so loud?" Eddie shot back, teeth grit in challenge. "Private conversation, so you talk loud enough for everyone to hear you, right? Make sure they all know that you two are loaded, so much better than anyone else, right?"

You huffed, turning on your heel, jaw tight. You were flushing furiously, heat spreading from the fire in the pit of your belly up your chest and neck. "Don't pay attention to him, Arnie. He's pissed I wouldn't suck his dick at the bar." You snipped, loud enough for Eddie to hear.

Arnie hesitated, eyes flickering from you back to Eddie. Eddie laughed loudly, humorlessly. "Holy shit," He shook his head. "You know, it makes sense why you're such a bitch, honestly. Probably never been told no a day in your fucking life."

You whipped around, drink sloshing and spilling down your wrist from the sudden movement. "What the fuck did you just call me?"

Eddie pulled a mocking, pouting face your way. "Oh, you didn't like that, huh?" He taunted. "Sorry, Princess, didn't mean to upset you. I forgot, girls like you can't handle being told the truth."

"The truth?" You scoffed. "I can handle the truth, what I can't handle is losers like you trying to hit on me like you ever had a chance."

"Oh? Because I'm not from the Hills?" Eddie retaliated, defensively, insecurity seeping through his barred teeth.

"No, because you're such a fake." You laughed mockingly back at him, eyes rolling down his frame. It was a juvenile, mean tactic, but you didn't care. It worked, judging by the way he squirmed and moved to straighten his posture. "You dress like this pathetic cliche, hit on girls all the time, treat them like shit and do shit to keep you in the tabloids, and guess what? In a few years, you'll be irrelevant anyways. You'll peak, and you'll go back to Ohio or wherever the fuck you're from, and I'll still be here, watching the next you try to hit on me."

Eddie's face dropped, stunned and a little hurt. Arnie pulled your arm, saying your name softly to get you to step away, but you refused. Too angry and determined to get him away for good.

"Who the fuck do you think you are exactly?" Eddie snapped back. "I mean, you're only relevant because of who your daddy is." He scoffed, snarling back at you. "Seriously, Princess, you swear you're someone special, but you wouldn't be anything without that last name. I might be whatever you want to call me, but I'm me. I made my own fucking name, didn't get anything handed to me. I did it myself. Can you say the same?"

You blushed furiously, stammering under his intense glare. Eddie took a step closer, crowding you. "What happens when daddy goes away, huh? When you don't have anything to cling to because you're nothing on your own? What then? What happens to this high and mighty attitude when your one claim to fame is gone, and everyone forgets you."

"That-That won't-"

"-Won't happen?" Eddie laughed menacingly at you. "Sweetheart, you're in for a big surprise then. You don't do shit. You've never worked for a goddam thing in your life. Daddy made sure of that, didn't he?"

You blushed furiously, lips pressing together in anger. "You don't know anything about me."

"No?" Eddie's brows lifted in amusement. "But you certainly know a lot about me." He hissed, throwing your words from earlier right back in your face, making you shrink. "You must know more than you pretend to know about me. Or do you just say shit like that to anyone? Just mean for fun, huh? I'm a walking cliche? Baby, you couldn't get more predictable if you tried." Eddie sneered, leaning down so his face was inches away from yours.

The heat from the two of you was radiating, burning each other further and further with every sneer and venom filled word. Arnie pulled you away with a slight tug of your arm, ushering you away from your hate filled stare and back towards the club.

***

"Who the fuck does that guy think he is, huh?" You slurred, slamming your glass back onto the mahogany top of the bar. Your vision was swirling slightly, the alcohol in your system flooding over your senses easily.

You looked at Arnie, then back over at Farrah, who was sitting perched in Gareth's lap. "Hon, don't worry about it. He's a dick, don't you know that?" Arnie scoffed. "Honestly, did you see what he did to that poor girl? All of them really. He humiliates them for fun."

You had seen what he did to those girls. Fucking them on balconies, tatting their ass, paddling them with a wood paddle that left the band's logo on their red, inflamed cheeks, then letting them walk out so the paparazzi went wild. You had to admit, it was pretty good press. His stylist might have been shit, but his PR person you needed to meet.

The first time you'd seen them on the cover of a gossip column magazine, you couldn't help but stare. The sheer taboo nature of it all, filthy and wrong. It made your thighs twitch. You'd tried to convince your 'boyfriend' of the time to try something like that with you, but he'd called you weird, mocked you for wanting to try it. You'd blamed it on the coke, and never talked of it again.

Maybe he did intimidate you. Maybe he even intrigued you a little, but you refused to allow it, hatred and loathing consuming any feelings of curiosity towards the asshole that was Eddie Munson.

Eddie had a girl in his lap, in the booth on the other side of the bar. You could see it perfectly from your own seat, his lips on her neck, sucking in deep, dark bruises. His hand up her skirt, teasing her so she writhed and bucked all over his lap, sloppy and desperate. His eyes met yours, and you scoffed, slamming back another shot.

Farrah called your name, giggly and stumbling towards you, wrapping her arms around you. "I need a favor," She whispered into your ear.

"What?" You snapped, harder than you meant it to. It'd been a long night.

Farrah pressed her nose to yours, eyes crossing to focus on yours. You could smell the vodka on her breath, sharp and stinging. "I'm gonna go back to Gareth's place for a while. He said he'd give me a tour." She giggled, swaying slightly.

"Ok?" You asked, lifting a brow, her hands planted firmly on your cheeks.

"Come with me, please." Farrah whispered. "Just for a little while, then-then we can go back home, I promise."

You groaned, pulling apart. "I don't want to go to his place-"

"-please! It's just for a teeny, tiny, little bit." Farrah pressed her fingers together for show. "Just so he can... show me around."

You gave her an unimpressed look. "So you two can fuck?" You asked.

Farrah giggled wildly, tossing her head back. "Maybe..." She let out a nasally laugh, swaying back and forth. "Please? For me?"

You hesitated, looking at her then cutting behind her to see Eddie, still working the girl in his lap. "Fine. Let me get one more drink and close out." You grumbled.

Farrah hugged you tightly, strawberry glossed lips pressing a sticky, wet kiss to your cheek before scampering back to Gareth. You waved the bartender down for another, downing the vodka easily before handing him a wad of cash to cover your tab and a tip.

You hugged Arnie goodbye, waving to your other friends before following Farrah down the steps, towards the private exit of the VIP. She giggled and swung on Gareth's arm, flirty and sweet. You watched her carefully, arms crossing over your chest when you got outside, following him towards the large, black car waiting with the rest.

"After you, M'lady." Gareth bowed sillily, making Farrah cackled, a stumble curtsy given back in return. You nodded gently when you climbed past him, moving to the farthest seat on the rounded lounge area.

The door opened again, Eddie and another member of the band filing in. You scoffed. "Oh, fuck me," You groaned, rolling your head back.

"What?" Farrah asked, eyes blinking innocently towards you. "What's wrong?"

"Who the fuck invited her?" Eddie snapped, throwing an arm out towards you.

"I did, Ed." Gareth hissed, eyes cutting to Farrah next to him. "Shut the fuck up."

You smirked triumphantly when Eddie sank in the seat across from you, huffing and rolling his eyes. The car ride back to their place was painfully awkward. Gareth and Farrah were wrapped up in their own little world, giggling and whispering sweetly to each other.

Jeff, the other member in the car, had tried to speak to you. You tried not to let your irritation get the best of you, but alcohol mixed with the sour taste you had for Eddie weren't doing you any favors.

"Give it up, Jeff, I told you she was just gonna be an asshole." Eddie grumbled when you'd gave Jeff another short, choppy answer.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "I'm the asshole, huh?" You scoffed.

Jeff hesitated looking between the two of you. "It's cool, really." He said sweetly, giving you a small smile.

You felt your stomach twist in guilt, bile rising in your throat as your heart hammered. He really was a sweet guy, just trying to be nice. "So," You started awkwardly, looking over at him. "Where are you from?"

"Somewhere you've never heard of." Jeff smiled, shaking his head. "Hawkins, Indiana."

You smiled back. "You're right. Never heard of it."

Jeff laughed. "That's alright. No one has." He shrugged. "All three of us are from there actually. Met in high school."

You bit back the sharp comment on your tongue directed towards Eddie, swallowing it down bitterly. You didn't want to prove his point anymore than you already did tonight.

"Wow," You nodded, giving a forced, dazzling smile that only a Hollywood native could give. "Must be really different being here now. Big change?"

Jeff nodded. "Yeah, it was an adjustment. Traffic was the worst." He grinned when he hit Gareth's shoulder. "Gare, remember when we first came out here and Eddie got stuck on the 305?"

Both boys growled in laughter while Eddie rolled his eyes. "Christ, we almost missed our first record meeting. Almost got cut before we ever started."

Your eyes flashed to Eddie's, a sneer like grin on your lips. "Shocking." You bit sarcastically, raising your brows.

Eddie rolled his eyes, scoffing at you. "Yeah, well, I figured it out, didn't I?" Eddie gave a tight lipped smile to the boys. "You gotta figure stuff out on your own sometimes, ya know? Shit just can't be done for you or you never learn."

You scoffed loudly, throwing your hand up. "I mean, and I'm the asshole? You had the audacity to call me the asshole?"

"Alright, let's just- let's calm down." Farrah glared at you, lifting her hands between you and Eddie.

"Yeah, Ed, take it easy." Gareth grit, eyes narrowing towards him.

You both rolled your eyes, arms crossing and huffing before looking out the window.

The gates to the Hidden Hills mansion the boys had opened, large and elaborate. The car pulled to the front, Jeff tipping the driver and wishing him a good night as you all piled out.

Gareth droned on and on about the house, the special features it had to Farrah, who giggled and awed- like she didn't grow up in a house triple the size of this. You bit back that comment and followed, heels clacking against the floor, bored.

Eddie had disappeared a while ago, something about needing a joint. Gareth offered to show Farrah his room, and they were gone. Leaving you standing there, waiting.

"Uh, there's a movie room up the stairs if you wanna go in there." Jeff offered with a small smile. "You can wait there if you want. Or-Or you can stay here."

You shook your head. "I'll go wait upstairs. I think they'll be a while." You rolled your eyes.

Jeff laughed. "It's to the right, down the hall, first room on the left." He pointed up the staircase.

You climbed the spiraling stairs, taking in the odd decor of the house. There was a lot of paintings of dragons, very epic and mystical, not quite the decor you thought the metal band would have. You turned down the dark hallway, tiptoeing quietly past the rooms in case someone was sleeping.

You could hear the muffled sound of something playing in the movie room, muted against the heavy doors of the room, but you didn't hear any other signs of life as you pushed them open. The screen was large, illuminating the room and the rows of leather, recliner chairs in it. You closed the door quietly behind you, tip toeing towards the screen.

Your brows furrowed deep in confusion, swaying on your feet as you watched the film that was playing. A rather burly, muscular man grabbed the girl by her hair, pulling her close to him roughly. "I think bad girls like you need to be taught a lesson..." He growled. She moaned loud, pornographic and exaggerated.

Your eyes widened, eyes glued on the screen as he tossed her over his raised knee, hand slamming down on her up turned ass while sh yelped dramatically, mewling and whining. You bit your lip, squirming slightly, thighs pressing together at the scene.

"You enjoying yourself?" You jumped, heart thumping into your ears, screeching at the unexpected voice.

Wild curls, dark eyes, and a menacing smirk met your gaze when you turned. Eddie, sitting in the back row in the dark.

"What the fuck?" You grabbed at your heart. "What-What are you doing in here-"

"-It's my house." Eddie scoffed, arms extending wide on the back of the seats beside him.

You rolled your eyes. "Jeff told me I could wait in here. I-I didn't think you'd be in here."

"This is my favorite room." Eddie said slowly, jaw still set. "Where I come to relax."

"Well, I'll leave you to it." You scoffed, nodding towards the screen, turning towards the door.

"No, why don't you stay." You could hear his smirk through his tone. "Seemed like you were really enjoying it."

You blushed furiously, caught and embarrassed. You didn't face him. eyes cutting towards the screen, watching the man finger the girl as she was still over his knee, squirming and crying.

"Don't be gross." You bit, hoping you sounded more convincing. "Who watches this kind of stuff?"

"Me," Eddie snorted. "Seems like you do too."

"I do not." You snapped, whipping around to face him, his smug grin. God, you wanted to slap it off his face.

"What are you doing anyways? Researching new ways to hurt your groupies? Get the press talking some more?" You sneered.

Eddie's brow raised, amused. Your heart stuttered. "Oh? I thought you didn't know who I was, hm? To beneath you."

"Well, of course I know about that." You scoffed, rolling your eyes so you didn't have to meet his intense glare. You crossed your arms over your chest, securing yourself. You felt too vulnerable, too seen.

"Yeah?" Eddie asked, shifting so he was leaning towards you. "You know a lot about that, don't you, honey?" You stammered, blushing furiously at him. "How many times you wish that was you?" Eddie asked plainly.

Your throat constricted, tongue feeling stupid and big in your mouth. "W-With you?" You lifted a brow, hoping your menacing stare would distract him from the way your legs shook. "Never."

"Oh, I don't believe that." Eddie purred, standing slowly. A tiger to his prey, slow and calculated. "But fine, not with me. How many times have you thought about that?" He nodded towards the scene behind you, the man fucking the girl hard, hips snapping against her abused ass. You swallowed hard, eyes trained and glazed on the video.

You gasped, body lurching a little when you felt him behind you, looming presence casting over you, but never touching you. "How many times have you thought about someone putting you in your place like that?" Eddie growled, and you fought back a shiver, shoulder's tensing. "Is that why you're so mean all the time? Why you act out and want a reaction, hm? You're just begging for someone to put you in your place, aren't you? Screaming for attention."

His fingers trailed lightly over your hip down towards the hem of your dress. You shuddered, exhaling shakily as you watched his inked fingers toy with the edge of the black material. Your mind screamed to stop him, to shove him off and tell him to go fuck himself. But the throbbing between your legs superseded any protest you had, letting him ghost over you.

"That's why you wear these little dresses. You go out, and start fights with these guys hoping they'll actually fight back with you, don't you?" Eddie growled, fingers trailing over your bare thigh, inching dangerously close to your center.

You bit your lip, refusing to look at him, to answer. "You want attention?" Eddie asked, his breath hot on your ear. "I'll give you that attention you want so badly. All you gotta do is ask."

You whined, his fingers feather light, teasing over your slit. You knew he had to feel how wet you were, the growing wet patch on the front of your lace panties. You squirmed into his touch.

"Go on," Eddie grunted, fingers trailing up and down your clothed slit, you throbbed, ached for the touch. "Ask me to put you in your place."

You sighed, shaky and breathy. Your eyes were trained on the screen, refusing to meet his, watching the way the man pounded the girl from a new position. "You talk a big game for someone who will probably only last a few minutes." You shuddered, mean and bratty, a furious gleam back in your eye.

Eddie scoffed. He pulled his hand away entirely, leaving your gasping at the loss. "Guess you'll never find out." He whispered, lips tickling the shell of your ear.

You watched him walk towards the door, heart pounding in your chest when he reached for the door knob. "Wait!" You cried, biting down on your lip hard.

Eddie turned slightly, brow raised. You hesitated, squirming and eyes flicking from the screen back to him. "I-I want it." You admitted, cheeks burning red. Eddie could see it in the glow from the screen.

He lifted a brow, hand falling from the knob to cross over his chest. He stared hard at you, down the slop of his nose. "Want what?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. The bastard. "You gotta use your words. C'mon, baby, you had no problem using them earlier." He snapped.

You fidgeted, swaying on your feet. You couldn't look at him, too humiliated. "I-I want you to put me in my place." You whispered, speaking down the the dark, shag carpet of the room.

"Louder." Eddie commanded, snapping his fingers at you. "And look at me when you speak to me."

A cold shiver ran down your spine. Excitement and anticipation twisting in your tummy. You lifted your gaze slowly, fingers still wringing and twisting when you met his dark, brown eyes. "I-I want you to... to put me in my place."

Eddie exhaled slowly out of his nose, heavy steps coming towards you until the two of you were toe to toe. He towered over you, looking down at you with a hard, stoic expression. "This is what you really want?" Eddie asked. "Want me to teach you how to behave? I'll warn you now, I'm not nice. Not gonna go easy on you."

You nodded slowly, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. Eddie cocked his head to the side, signaling he wanted a verbal answer. "Y-Yes... It's what I want." You huffed, crossing your arms back over your chest.

Eddie smirked, a barely raised corner of his lip. "Fine." He grunted. "It'll be my pleasure, actually. I've never met someone who needed to be knocked down a few pegs more in my life." He grabbed your arm, pulling you towards the first recliner. He sat down with a heavy sigh, yanking you in between his spread thighs. "And if smacking you around a little will be you to be less of a little bitch," He sneered up at you, making you squirm. "Then, I guess I'll do the honors."

You rolled your eyes, with a small scoff before his large hand cracked down on your ass, making you gasp. Eddie gave you a hard glare. You squirmed, thighs rubbing together for some sort of friction. His hit stung, but it left you aching, slick coating your thighs.

"You want to stop, you say 'bats' and we stop." Eddie said, hands pulling at your dress.

"Bats? That's a fuckin' stupid-" Another resounding smack of his ringed hand to your ass had you yelping out, stopping and looking at him.

"Oh, this is gonna take a lot more than I thought." Eddie shook his curls, pulling the tie of the dress so it fell down your hips slowly, in a puddle by your feet. You stood in nothing but a bright red thong. "You're worse off than I thought. Might need multiple sessions to fix this bad attitude."

You snarled. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" You bit.

Eddie hummed, fingers hooking down your panties, pulling them down your thighs so they rested at your mid-thigh. He pressed his fingers into the soaked front of your cloth, smearing your sticky release down the crotch until it was coated on his finger. He brought it up to your face, eyes hard in challenge.

"Seems like you're not having a bad time either." Eddie snapped. You blushed hard, hands covering your neck so he couldn't see the flush. "Think you're enjoying this a little too much."

You snarled, but fought the urge to roll your eyes. Eddie pulled down the rest of your panties, letting you step out of them before they were puddled on the floor. He shifted forward, legs spreading before he nodded towards his lap.

You hesitated for a moment, arms reaching out slow and unsteady, awkward as you folded your body forward delicately. His rough, calloused hands pulled you forward, aching center rubbed against his knee, bottom high in the air. Your arms were forward, hanging over the recliner, back dipped between his legs.

"Hm," Eddie sighed heavily, ringed hand running over your cheeks, down your thigh and over your back. You shuddered, head spinning. For a moment, it almost felt gentle.

"I can tell that you and your mama are related." He grinned, squeezing the fat of your ass hard. "Good looking ass on both of ya."

You scoffed loudly. "You’re dis-" You gasped, the hard smack he delivered to the center of your ass sending you forward, breath leaving your lung. The unfamiliar sting burned through the hit, electrifying your senses. You clamped your lips together, rocking slightly against his knee for friction.

"You just never learn, do ya?" Eddie laughed, hand cracking down on your ass, one hit to each cheek that left you yelping out. "That's alright. Keep running that mouth. I can stay here all night."

His hand cracked down on your fleshy ass, hips jumping and body tensing with every hit. You could feel the burn, foreign and unfamiliar, building already. His rings added extra sting to his hits, cold metal digging into your hot skin. You tried to still your hips, keep yourself from grinding helplessly down onto his leg.

“I can tell no one’s ever done this to you before.” Eddie breathed, hand light, almost delicately trailing down your cheeks before he brought his hand down again, twice. Two quick smacks that had you squealing, lurching forward.

“I’ve never met a more spoiled little bitch.” Eddie growled, hand thundering onto your cheeks. You mewled loudly, lips pressed shut to try and stop yourself.

“No one’s ever put you in your place like this before have they?” Eddie hissed, squeezing your burning cheeks hard, enough to make you squirm. His hand cracked down, unforgiving and hard, right near your core. It had you screaming out, abdomen clenching at the sensation. “I asked you a fucking question.”

“No,” You whispered, jaw tight, slow steady breaths coming out of your nose, desperate to keep the tears down.

Eddie huffed, fingers snaking down to your core. You gasped when he slid them through your slick folds. “Hm,” he hummed, mocking. He head his fingers in front of you, ringed digits coated in your arousal, making you blush deep. “Suck.” Eddie barked.

You hesitated for a moment, stunned by his demand. Eddie’s free hand yanked your hair back, scalp screaming at the roughness of his grasp. “I said, suck.”

Your lips parted in a slow tremble, just wide enough to let him slip his fingers in. You hollowed your cheeks barely, letting your tongue slides slowly over his fingers, tasting your own tangy arousal. Eddie’s fingers probed further, pressing back to the back of your throat, scissoring so you’d gag at the intrusion.

You breathed deep, controlled through your nose. Only gagging for a moment, before you let his assault continue. Your eyes were on him, round and hopeful for praise. He lifted a brow. “I’m impressed,” he muttered, dark, dimpled grin on his face. “Though I guess I shouldn’t be. A little whore like you should know how to take a cock.”

Your cheeks blushed furiously, anger flaring back in your chest. You bit down on his fingers, hard enough to grind the bone and have him hissing, yanking his fingers back out. He glared at you before a ringed backhand cracked across your cheek, stinging and shocking you.

You gaped at him, wide eyed in shock. Eddie growled back. “You just can’t play nice, can you?” He shook his head, sighing loud and dramatic, mocking.

He shoved you back over his lap, your hands falling in front of you to stop you from face planting onto the ground. Eddie's hand's started back up, cracking down on your already flaming ass, quick and hard. No longer teasing and fun, but rather punishing and mean. Your head still reeled, throbbing between your legs.

You clenched hard, jaw tightening and fists balling. The pain on your ass was building hard, uncomfortable burn and heat radiating off your reddened skin. You could feel Eddie's erection against your hip, you hoped if you squirmed enough he would stop, but you had a feeling there was only one way he'd stop.

Eddie's rings were biting into your ass, making you jump with every hit. His ability to not let up, to keep the same rhythm was impressive if you were being honest. "For a brat you sure can take a beating." Eddie hissed. You thought he might stop, he didn't.

You whimpered, squirming your hips forward to get away from his assaulting hand. He just simply pulled you back, roughly into place, continuing again. "Eddie," You whined, hips wiggling. "Eddie, ok, stop. I learned my lesson, you can stop." You huffed.

Eddie laughed, humorlessly. "I don't think you have." He snapped, hand cracking down hard, leaving you jumping.

“I have!” You whined, a high pitched mewl that left his cock lurching, twitching at how desperate you sounded.

“Prove it.” Eddie growled, ringed hand grabbing your hair, yanking you up harshly again, back arching and dipping with the lift. You grunted at the burn in your scalp. “You said you learned your lesson, prove it.”

“How?” You huffed, teary eyed and desperate. Your cocky attitude be damned at this moment, you were determined to do anything to get him to stop and fuck you.

Eddie smirked. "You need me to tell you how to say sorry? You don't know how to apologize? God, you are such a fucking spoiled, shallow little brat aren't you." You howled in pain when his hand cracked back down, choking out a sob. 

"Fuck, ok, ok! I'm sorry, ok?" You squealed, squirming against his leg again.

Eddie snorted, mocking and unimpressed. "You call that an apology?" He sighed heavily, pushing you back forward, hand groping and squeezing your aching cheeks. "We're gonna be here all night, aren't we?"

You cried, shaking your head. "No, no, please, I-I'll be good, ok?" You sniffled. "I'm sorry." You muttered, pathetic and small.

Eddie wrenched your hair back again, making you cry out in pain. You thought he might take mercy on you. Clearly you were wrong. "What was that?" He growled. "Speak up. Loud and clear."

You sniffled hard, pinching your eyes together. "I-I'm sorry, Eddie." You let out a hard shaky breath, voice wavering with the admission. "I'm sorry for being m-mean to you."

Eddie didn't budge, holding you in that position for a moment, teetering you on the edge of anticipation, getting you squirming and whining until he finally let go. You fell forward with a small huff, his hand rubbing over your ass.

"Look, you can learn, hm?" Eddie mocked. You bristled, gritting your teeth to hold back your snappy, mean comment. "You just need to be trained, don't you? Need someone to be mean and teach you?"

You nodded, a curt bob of your head, lips pressing together to keep your sob in. Eddie pinched your hot skin, hard enough to leave you yelping. He snickered, fingers trailing up your slick thighs, his fingers sunk into your sopping hole, pumping agonizingly slow. Your clit was swollen, aching, clenching against his fingers.

"Surprise, surprise, you liked this, didn't you?" Eddie mocked.

Your face heated, eyes pinching close, squirming against his lap. Eddie's hand cracked down on your ass. "Didn't you?" He gritted.

"Yes." You sobbed, falling limp over his lap.

Eddie smirked, satisfied. He felt like he finally had you broken and desperate, pathetic the way he wanted you. His fingers curled inside you, making you gasp. Your thighs trembled, your orgasm had been building from the moment you'd walked in the movie room, inching closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy with every hard, unforgiving spank he administered to your ass. His words cruel and venomous, they should have you sobbing, running away and cursing his name, yet you couldn't wait to hear more, throbbing with every hate filled word.

You clenched, small huff escaping the back of your throat, your walls tightening around his fingers, expected and working you open magnificently. You rubbed your clit, aching with desperation against his legs, so close to your own release your eyes were rolling back, pathetic little cried and whines filling the room. It made Eddie's head spin, grinning mean and dark down at you, relishing in the way you wiggled and bucked on his lap.

You were so close, he knew that, which is exactly why he stopped. He pulled his fingers out of you with a loud squelch of your walls trying to vacuum him back in. Your eyes snapped up, panting and desperate with the loss of his fingers.

"What-"

Eddie pushed you off his lap, letting your knees hit the ground hard, uncaring when you shot him a displeased pout. He ignored you, shoving his jeans to the ground, boxers following with one quick swoop.

You tried not to gawk, his cock erect and angry, hanging in front of you nearly menacingly, inches from your nose. His inked body, covered in tattoos, tummy toned with the peeking of soft abs that we’re accentuated when he’d clench them, making the inked skin there move and ripple. You'd assumed everyone had exaggerated how big his cock was, the groupies that sold stories and tabloids just playing that detail up as an excuse for letting him do the things he did to them, dick drunk. You see now, that wasn't the case at all, feeling a little hypocritical for your own harsh judgements at the time.

"Get up, bend over." Eddie growled, nodding towards the chair he'd been sitting in. He stroked himself lazy and slow, cock dribbling out at the head. "You wanna cum? There's only one way you're gonna cum. Go."

You scrambled up, practically diving into the dark leather of the chair, nails scratching the thick material. Your head was reeling, pussy throbbing, aching with the way he'd edged you, toyed with you and got you so close.

Eddie snorted, shaking his head in a mocking manner. "So desperate, what a shock." He growled, lining himself up with you. He didn't bother being nice, your only warning of what's to come was the fat head of his cock pushing in your entrance, pausing when Eddie moved closer to you. "Thought you were too good for me? Look at you now."

You cried out loudly when he pushed in, filling you quickly, not giving you even a second to adjust before he pulled back out and slammed in you all over again. Your walls stretched and burn with the uncomfortable intrusion, clenching down hard on him so he cursed, sucking in a breath.

"You think you're too good for me? I think I'm too good for you." Eddie hissed, hips slamming hard against your ass, drooling at the way your red, irritated skin jumped against his. "Spoiled little bitch, you think you can just get away with treating people like shit? Being a cunt to everyone all the time because you grew up in the hills?" You panted, face buried in the leather, trying to conceal your shaky moans.

Eddie's hand in your hair wrenched you up, pulling you so you were standing on wobbly legs, his hand moving to your throat then back down to hold you across your hips. "I asked you a fucking question." He growled, nose exhaling hot air against your cheek.

You opened your mouth, dumbly letting your tongue roll out. The pressure on your neck wasn't enough to cut off oxygen, just enough to feel the pressure, but it still had you clenching hard, eyes rolling back at the sensation. "Yes." You breathed out.

"Yes?" Eddie repeated, a sharp thrust that had you crying out. "You think you can treat people like shit?"

"No!" You whined, thighs trembling, tears leaking out of your eyes and down your cheeks. "No, no, no I don't! I'm sorry!" 

Eddie scoffed, letting his hand fall from your neck, your stranded moans and sobs leaving in sharp breaths out of your chest. He pounded hard into you, jabbing your g-spot relentlessly. A sloshing sound was starting to build, soft and mixing with the sound of his balls slapping against you.

Eddie pushed you back down, face first into the leather, his free hand finding your clit, the other gripping your hips hard- you knew you'd have bruises. "Spoiled little bitch," He grunted, lightly rubbing over your clit. His touch was ghosting, so light you wondered if you were hallucinating it. "Maybe I should call you a dumb little bitch instead, hm? Just dumb on my cock."

You screamed, back arching and eyes rolling when he pinched your clit, hard and round, rolling it between his pointer and thumb finger. Your legs shook, waves of pleasure washing over you until you collapsed beneath him, legs giving out. His hand on your hip and under your tummy held you up.

Eddie snickered, your wet released, sprayed out all over his pelvis, over his cock and the leather seats. He knew no now had ever done that to you, judging by the way you laid simple, head still reeling and shaking beneath him. Here you were thinking you were so much better, and yet, he was the only one who could fuck you properly.

Eddie didn't let up, didn't soften his pace, pounding into you harder and harder and harder. Your hips recoiled, fat jumping with every snap of his own hips, punishing you. He could feel you clamp around him again, tiny moans that were tired and breathy. His cock lurched, twitching deep inside of you, teeth gritting.

Eddie raised his hand, smacking your ass again, watching the way you jumped and whined, hand print fading in with the others, illuminated on your already abused skin. He tucked his lip between his teeth, eyes pinching hard shut, you'd already came again, shaking and whining around him with another pitiful little orgasm that left you dizzy all over again. Eddie grunted, jackhammering you hard before he felt his cock twitch hard, spilling deep inside you.

He thrusted slow, hard huffs of air mixed with small groans, his cock emptying deep inside of you, the sloshing sound of each thrust filling the room. "Oh, fuck," Eddie breathed out, chest heaving hard.

He looked down, creamy spend covering the base of his pubic hair, wetting it and leaving it glistening. He pulled out slow, smirking at the way your release and his dripped out of you, making a mess onto the floor.

You slid and he let you, crumpling into the floor, too tired and fucked out to make yourself stand, thighs burning and shaking, whimpering when the heels of your feet dug into your ass. Eddie smirked, smug and proud of how ruined you were now, how ruined he'd made you.

He reached for his jeans, fishing a cigarette out, lighting it while he watched you slowly drift back into yourself. Head lolling to the side, breaths evening out, and whimpering when the harsh carpet scratched against your ass. He'd nearly finished the stick when you finally looked up at him, soft eyed and glazed.

Eddie smirked, blowing smoke at you. "Welcome back, Princess," He snarled.

You rolled your eyes, half hearted and tired, shifting to gently try to stand. He grinned watching you, knocked knees, shaky legs, pushing yourself up and trying to hide your little whimpers and grunts. Still so stubborn and spoiled; he wished he was surprised.

"Finally learn your lesson?" Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Fuck off," You grumbled, but you couldn't bring yourself to be mean, too tired and sore.

Eddie hummed, shaking his head. "Guess we'll have to try again." He sighed, mocking and mean. You glared at him, he shrugged. "I'll break you eventually. I know there's a good girl in there deep, deep down inside."

"Yeah? Let me know when you find her." You snapped, lazily grabbing your dress. You didn't see your underwear, deciding to leave them wherever they were. You wouldn't be needing them anyways, the thought of the scratchy lace on your ass made you cringe.

Eddie laughed. "You're kinda funny when you're not so mean." He tilted his head to the side.

You gave him an unimpressed look, slipping your dress back on, haphazardly, trying to walk as straight and normal as you could past him. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you limp.

"You know where to find me next time you need to be put in your place, baby." Eddie grinned, leaning against the doorway. You turned, his cock hanging limply in front of him, and you could see how it glistened and shined in the low lights of the hallway.

"Now I know where to avoid." You snarled, mouth filling with spit at the sight of his cock, you swallowed it furiously. "We're not doing this shit again. Wasn't worth it." You bit, venomously and full of hate, eyes narrowing at him.

Eddie laughed at you, loud and mocking. "Oh, you'll be back." He said confidently. "And you know exactly where to find me. I'll see you then, Princess." He smirked, smugly, eyes rolling down your frame before he walked across the hall, shutting the door to what you assumed was his bedroom. You told yourself you'd never know, but you knew deep down that wasn't true.

You hobbled down the steps, heels in hand, hissing with stretch of your abused skin and aching pussy. Farrah grinned at you, standing from the bench by the doorway.

"Hey," She grinned, eyes lighting up in amusement.

"Don't." You snapped, shaking your head. "Just-just, get me the fuck outta here. I don't want to talk about it."

The car out front started, driving you through the gates, the soft glow of the sunrise filling the tinted windows of the car. Farrah pressed ups for questions, giggly and excited. You snarled, blaming it on the alcohol and boredom, but you knew better. You knew you'd be back, Eddie knew you'd be back, and you knew deep down that this was the beginning of something. Whether that something would be beautiful or detrimental, you weren't sure yet, but you couldn't wait to find out.