#so maybe my thoughts aren’t coherent anymore

[fruityfroggy]

Lesbians who dress like this need to HIT ME UP

Um…anyways….

[joonie-beanie]

Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh. 

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?” 

Now that piques their interest. 

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 

4 days, to be exact. 

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck. 

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning. 

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum. 

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 

You’re getting close. 

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words. 

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck. 

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath. 

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep! 

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

[b-o-e]

sleepy phone call Wally Darling x Reader

Warnings: fluff :))

although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #6 :)

You find yourself unable to fall asleep, leading you to call Wally in the late hours of the night.

“Hello?”

Ah, jeez.

What had you been thinking?

You’d been staring up at your ceiling for who knows long. You’d been tossing and turning all night, unable to fall asleep, despite the exhaustion seeping through your body.

What made you think calling Wally would be a smart idea in your barely coherent state? Well, actually, it was probably just that. You incoherent state did.

“Hi,” you finally mustered out. You were already regretting your decisions. What if he’d been asleep? What if he had been peacefully reading a book in bed? Painting, for whatever reason?

“... Are you alright?” Wally’s voice returned, laced with concern. There was a bit of rustling. “It’s late,”

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. You were debating hanging up there and then, but that would be even worse at this point, wouldn't it?

“I don’t mind in the slightest.”

Your heart swelled. He was always so sweet and considerate, wasn’t he? Always there when you needed him. You shouldn't have doubted that.

“... I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, gnawing lightly on your bottom lip. 

“Ha ha, I think I know how that feels,”

You facepalmed. You’re an idiot, aren’t you? No, he had not been asleep.

Nonetheless, a giggle slipped past your lips, amused by your own silly mistake.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be one to speak, huh? That was insensitive,” you chuckled, “I’m sorry,”

“I don’t mind,” he told you. “I’m quite used to it. What keeps you up though, neighbour?”

What was keeping you awake? Really, you had no clue. Was it the fact that you couldn’t get him off your mind, to the point where you subconsciously thought ‘hey, calling Wally in the ungodly hours in the early morning is a good idea’?

You shifted your seated position, fiddling with the phone's cord as you pursed your lips in thought. Finally, you decided on an answer.

“I’m not entirely sure,” you sighed. “I just… maybe my brain is being too loud, tonight.” You claimed. It wasn't a lie, yet it saved you from telling the full, embarrassing truth.

“Is there something on your mind you’d like to speak about?” You heard a bit of light shuffling.

“I…” you paused, trying to find the words you wanted to say. “I’m not sure, honestly,” you grumbled. “I think… I think I just wanted to hear your voice,” you confessed to him, blunt and honest.

The call went silent. Anxiety bubbled in your stomach. Did that sound odd?

“Wally?” You forced a chuckle, wiping your sweaty palms on your sheets. When did it get so warm in your house? “Sorry, that was probably a strange thing to say, wasn’t it?” You apologized, grimacing a little.

“Not at all,” his response came swiftly, pausing before he continued. “I’m honoured to hear you say that, neighbour,”

“Okay,” you breathed, relieved you hadn’t creeped him out. You knew Wally wasn’t very judgemental, but you still worried sometimes with the things that slipped past your lips.

Silence fell between the two of you, leaving you to desperately wrack your brain to figure out the right words to say.

What was the point of being so uptight? You already let that last comment slide. You were getting too tired to care, anymore.

“Would you mind…” you began, taking a second to figure if you really wanted to say this.

“Would you mind, just… talking?” You requested shyly. 

“Hmm…” he hummed, “Would you like me to talk about anything in particular?”

“Anything,” you shook your head, despite the fact he wouldn't be able to see it.

“Anything…” Wally parroted, going quiet for a while. Your eyes fell shut, your body further into your mattress. Even with him on the phone now, you were feeling less restless than you had been beforehand. His company was comforting, even over a silly call.

“Can I… confess, something to you, neighbour?” Wally’s sweet voice returned to your ears. 

“Of course you can, Wally. I’m always here for you if you need me,” you mumbled.

“... Do you promise?” His tone almost seemed to be one of slight insecurity, an unusual sound for him. Your eyes reopened, staring back up at your ceiling. This seemed like something that could be important to him, and you wanted to ensure he had your full attention.

“Cross my heart, always and forever…” the words fell off your tongue with ease, repeating a vow he told to you some weeks prior. A promise you were more than willing to keep in return.

“Well,” Wally began, “I have… a secret. One that I’ve been keeping from you, that’s about you. One that I've found to cause me some distress,” 

About you? Now, that was a bit worrisome. 

“I hope I haven’t done anything wrong to harm you,” you stressed. That was the last thing you wanted.

“No, no, you’ve done nothing wrong at all,”

“Thank goodness, I was terrified,” you breathed a chuckle, your worry levels lowering. The feeling was still there, as you remained unsure of what the cause of Wally’s distress truly was.

“Sorry, neighbour… I’m struggling to find the right words to say it to you,” he admitted, sounding slightly defeated.

“Take your time, Wally. There’s no rush. I’ll be ready when you are,” you tried to put his mind at ease.

You could hear him inhale deep and slow, holding it for a few moments, before letting it back out. He spoke gently.

“Your eyes,”

He paused for only a second, releasing a sigh.

“They rob the words off of my tongue.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat, eyes widening in surprise.

“My heart,” he went on, “it sings with euphoria every second you are near,”

There was no way this was happening.

“Ha ha… we may as well call it yours, with how full of you it is,”

Said heart pounded in your chest so loud, you could hear it in your head. 

“It’s no secret how I enjoy indulging in art quite frequently,” He continued.

“And yet, you manage to be the most extravagant masterpiece I’ve come across,” His voice was at a new level of gentleness than you’ve ever heard before. It was filled with nothing but open honesty, although you felt like there was something else laced in with it.

“You’re unfathomably endearing, and I crave more of you every time we part. That night we spent time together under the stars?” He ended with a questioning lilt, causing you to reflect back on that evening.

“There were so many things I wanted to say to you then. I wanted to tell you that if you asked me to, I’d figure out a way to give you the moon. That, despite the sky full of them, you shine brighter than any star up there in my eyes,” 

You didn’t know what to say. Truth be told, you were simply just… speechless.

“And after all this time, I’m still dancing around the point that I’m trying to get across, ha ha,” 

“The truth is, my darling…”

Your mind is playing tricks on you, if you heard what you were expecting next.

“... I’m in lo–”

You slammed the phone down on its base.

This was not happening.

Were you dreaming? 

Have you been asleep this whole time, stuck in an extremely realistic dream?

The pain in your arm when you pinched it tightly answered that question for you…

You stared into the darkness of your house, wide eyed.

Was he really about to say what you thought he was?

“Of course he was!” You answered that question aloud, slapping your hands to your face.

And you just hung up on him!

You froze.

You hung up on him.

…

You scrambled out of bed.

You tripped over your twisted blankets in the process.

Go, go, go! Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t care to put on any shoes. It was the least of your concerns right now. You yanked your front door open, darting out of it, and making a mad dash to Home.

Your feet padded against the ground below them, your legs moving faster than you thought they even could. Your adrenaline was spiking through the roof!

What if it was too late now? What if you ruined your chances, forever?

Your brain nagged at you. What if this? What if that?

When you came into Home’s view, it didn't even see you as you approached, attention focussed elsewhere. Once it did take notice of you, its door swung open for you, swaying slightly as if to usher you in. That's exactly what you did. 

Your eyes, blurred with stressed tears, scanned the room around you. Drifting to the table where Wally's phone typically sat, you found it to be missing. You followed the line that connected to the wall, ending at the landline, sat right next to the man you were looking for. 

His head lifted from his knees, attention captured by the sound of your hurried breaths as your body tried to compose itself. 

His widened in shock eyes met yours, teardrops rolling down his cheeks as they did on yours. No matter, a smile still remained on his features, despite being the most pathetic you’ve ever seen. You stared at each other for a moment, until you swallowed down the lump in your throat.

“Say it to my face,” you panted out.

You walked closer, kneeling before him, your hands cupping his cheeks. His own came up, wrapping gently around your wrists.

“Please,” you begged softly, voice cracking with desperation, choked up. “Please, Wally, say it to my face,”

His gaze softened, never breaking from yours. He opened his mouth, hesitating.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered.

And that’s all you needed to hear.

You closed the gap between you, kissing him, his grip on your wrists tightening. 

“Again?” You murmured softly as you pulled away, looking into his awestruck eyes. He took a moment to process what had happened, before he responded.

“... I’m in love with you,” 

Your lips pressed to his in another gentle kiss, Wally having the mind to return it, more prepared this time. When you pulled away, the corners of his smile quirked upwards.

“Ha ha, again?” He was the one to request this time, leaning his forehead against yours. “I'm in love with you,” he repeated, hopeful of receiving another kiss. You gave a choked giggle, giving him what he desired. You pecked his lips, his cheeks, and then his forehead.

“I’m in love with you too, Darling.” 

imagine getting deceived twice in a row AHAHAAH, I had to make you think it would be more angst so you wouldn't expect this ending like so many of you did, bwahahah! yes, you get a happy ending! yippe! however, this still isn't the end, and there is more to come!

but! feelings are out there! feelings are reciprocated! yippee! I hope you enjoyed this part, maybe just a smidge more than the last, haha!

here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

alas!! 'tis all for now! next will likely be out in two days! like and reblogs are extremely appreciated, gimme dopamine rahhhh!!! until next time! MWAH! <3

Posted Sunday, May 6, 2023, at 11:37 AM

[kaisaerinlover]

prize - sae itoshi

tw: kinda dark but not like my other stuff kinda dubious consent i guess

why are you even here? you have no idea, you don’t even remember how you got here, you don’t even know what’s going on, all you know is you’re some possession now, how could you know what’s going on anyway? no one filled you in, you just remember being led to the dorm room of someone, someone who you don’t even know, and left to sit on the bed. unfortunately for you that someone is sae itoshi. he won you, you think, you think that’s what’s happening. are you seriously being used as some motivational prize for a bunch of soccer players? this is seriously sick. you only know his name because there’s a jersey hung up on the closet handle that says it. you’ve been left alone in the room for what seems like an eternity, yearning for someone to come in and extinguish the loneliness, but the moment you see him enter, you instantly regret that wish.

sae walks in the room with someone behind him, a manager you think, and simply looks you up and down. his face is so empty, he’s unreadable. “is this her?” he looks at the older man behind him. “yes that’s her, she’s…” you zone out after that, they’re talking about you like you aren’t even there? like you’re some pet? you can’t even listen to their words anymore, you’re so horrified at the current predicament. you’re snapped out of it when the sound of the door closing echoes ever so slightly throughout the room. when you look up, you see the redhead towering over you, looking down at you. you feel even more self conscious than before and shift awkwardly.

“do you know why you’re here?” he bluntly asks, looking disinterested. you shake your head no, because you genuinely don’t, maybe your initial assumption was wrong and it’s just a big misunderstanding and maybe- “because you’re my prize now, understand” you wished too soon. what kind of misunderstanding would this have been anyway? stupid girl. you don’t do anything in response, you can’t even bring yourself to nod because you feel so tense. what does being a prize entail anyways? prizes are usually a fancy looking trophy sitting on a shelf, or a medal wrapped around the neck of some athlete, or maybe a money prize, maybe some stuffed animal, maybe an autograph. prizes are material possession usually, so why are you labelled as such a thing now? you were a normal person before this, so why? how can you even know what to expect when this is so… so… abnormal???

“what does- what- what’s a prize- what’s going to happen to me-“ you sputter over your words in anxiety. the prodigy in front of you simply stares at you and shrugs lightly. “anything i want” that doesn’t help soothe your nerves at all, actually it just made it worse. you’re so panicked you haven’t had any coherent thoughts since meeting the stranger, you didn’t even consider you were completely at his mercy. now you’re even more stressed. he notices it of course, how could he not? he finds it cute, like you’re some small animal freaking out over a predator looming over them, a cute bunny, or mouse. he doesn’t say that out loud though, he doesn’t so much as show it, fuck, he doesn’t say anything. his silence is so… eerie. he’s a unique guy, isn’t he?

what’s this guy’s deal anyway? he hasn’t shown a single emotion except indifference since walking through that door. he’s- suddenly a hand extends, touching your head and your face, the way you would touch some doll, or some sort of pet. it’s the first time he touched you. he’s examining you, you think, you can’t know for sure, usually you can tell people’s motives or even just a fraction of their thoughts from their facial expressions, this guy is just stuck on bored expression number 4 all the time clearly. you don’t protest though, you know better somehow, despite barely knowing him. “cute” he mumbles, having pulled his arm away from you and simply looking down at you now.

he’s weird, very weird. is probably what you would have observed about him in a normal setting. unfortunately you’re here as some sick prize for performing well in football matches. you had a life before this, don’t these people consider that?! what will your friends think, or family, or employer, or teachers, or anything? well, they never really cared that much did they, sweet girl? you’re just realising that now. you were never much of anything, nothing special, but nothing too weird worthy of getting picked on. did you even have friends? you never really talked to anyone. and now you’re paying the price for it, social connections are important, who’s going to notice you’re missing now? seriously, you went through life with the punishment of being a complete loner, and now you wound up here as well. does it get any easier ever? sae’s voice snaps you out of your slowly increasing nihilistic moment of realisation. “i had a long day today” he looks at you expectantly. you’re confused, does he want something? a massage? sexual gratification? are you supposed to know? you’re looking at him, head tilted to the side, hair sitting on your shoulders ever so cutely, god, he could ravage you here. you have those big innocent eyes he loves so much, you look so so clueless. very endearing. he locks his eyes on yours again as you answer him in an ever so small voice “o-okay-“ you manage to sputter out. seriously, what can you even say?

your dumbness is cute, to sae at least. he’s not even sure you know who he is, honestly. he hopes you do, but not knowing also comes with its share of benefits. he thought you would take the hint though, isn’t it obvious? can’t you just help him destress after a long day? unfortunately to sae, empathy is not his strong suit, actually it’s nothing to him. he’s devoid of it. so naturally he doesn’t understand that after you get swooped from your regular life and left in a dorm room belonging to some weird, yet albeit, handsome man you’re not really thinking things through critically. it was cute at first but he wants relief now. he guides you off of his bed and pushes you down gently onto your knees, and takes your spot on his bed. you go to protest but you’re silenced by his long finger pressing against your plump lips. wow, they feel really good pressed against his finger, his finger alone. how are they going to be on his cock? crazy good, probably. really fucking good. he’s excited now. he’s not the type to care for women, or anything really, but he’s interested in you for sure by now. you’re looking up at him, you know what he’s about to make you do, but you try and delude yourself. that works for the brief few seconds of him simply admiring you before he starts sliding down his shorts and boxers. he looks down at you with what anyone would say is a bored expression. “open” and you do. you do exactly what the prodigy says. you open your mouth ever so meekly. you don’t even know why you were so quick to oblige, but you tell yourself it’s fear, because why would you even want to consider the possibility of it being anything remotely positive in a situation like this.

he’s gentle at first, for the most part. he has a hand situated on your pretty little head but he’s not pushing you. just massaging your head. playing with your hair. like a pet. maybe like the way a child shows affection to their baby dolls. he breathes heavily as he’s slowly playing with your mouth using his cock. it’s scary, you never did this before ever, it’s the first time, you would rather not tell him that out of fear of sounding like you’re protesting. it’s easy at first, too easy, you ease up a little bit. what a mistake that was, sweet thing. he gets so relentless after a while, so fucking relentless. he grips your hair with such strength your eyes actually sting from it and your mouth is stuffed with his cock. he’s fucking your mouth so brutally, but when you look up at him with blurry, tear filled eyes, he looks so beautiful. maybe if you didn’t have his cock fucking your mouth right now you would even blush at the sight. sae itoshi is gorgeous. but do you know how annoying it is to find the owner of the prize you are attractive in such a moment? you feel a vague sense of self disgust wash over you. you’re pulled from those thoughts as he fucks your mouth harder than what you thought was even possible. the day you lost your innocence truly came sooner than you thought. sae is in ecstasy right now, wow, he doesn’t care for girls at all, he doesn’t ever grant himself sexual gratification including women most of the time, so the warmth of your mouth and throat are so welcoming to him. he likes you, he thinks. you look so cute on the floor, mouth all stuffed like a little mouse or hamster, greeding for treats. he almost laughs at that, he shouldn’t compare such a thing whilst he’s fucking your mouth like this. you’re like a pretty little flower, he can tell you’re innocent. he has a good sense when it comes to these things. you’re a cute lily, or something, he doesn’t know much about flowers, but what he knows about you is he wants to pick the petals off of you 1 by 1 and reap your innocence. god, you’re so fucking cute. taking him so well.

both of you are relieved when he finally cums, for different reasons of course. you’re so glad it’s finally over, your jaw aches in a way you’ve never felt it hurt before. that’s truly the sensation of losing your purity, or a small part of it. you’re sure sae will take more soon, and he’s sure too. sae is relieved he came too, but wow. you look so nice down there on your knees, panting, tears streaming down your face, hair messed up in a manner that he’s not sure if it’s actually cute, or if he just finds YOU cute in general, but he doesn’t care and doesn’t dwell on it. you have a mouth full of his cum. gross, it tastes of salt, and the texture is as slimy as sae’s personality. he’s gross and this is gross. you go to spit it out, but you’re stopped by his hand. he’s kneeling on the floor in front of you, panting too, out of breath as much as you are (stupid bastard, you think to yourself, you’re tired from the pleasure i gave you? please). you didn’t even notice he knelt down. his index finger pushes your chin up, you know what he wants. he’s waiting expectantly for you to give in and swallow. you’re not feisty, you’re not some charismatic, strongminded girl from a series or book. you oblige. and he looks at you, still expressionless, but his eyes are telling you he’s glad you obeyed so mindlessly. he stands up and looks down at you, “good girl” he says it so effortlessly. it sounds really nice actually. your cheeks heat up at the simple praise. ah. why do you feel this way for him?

all you did is overthink since you got here, not a single coherent thought was formed, and you just became acutely aware of the ache in your whole body. your knees hurt so much, your head is aching and your back feels stiff. on cue, the oldest itoshi extends a hand out to you. should you take it? you could be like the girls in the movies, the series, the books, all of those works of fiction you’ve read countless times, heard stories of so often, you could slap his hand away and show him you’re more than some prize, heck, you aren’t a prize, you’re an individual too. you have individuality don’t you? you’re strong too, and you don’t need him. you won’t be his mindless toy. is that why you accepted his help then? he helped you stand, you are naturally a little off balance, you kneeled for quite sometime, didn’t you little trophy? you’re like a bunny caught in the wind, a small mouse, a baby animal taking its first steps, a flower succumbing to the conditions of the fall season, harsher than what it was accustomed to in the summer. that’s how sae sees you. he doesn’t play for prizes, he doesn’t play for rewards, he’s not a greedy man. he’s not looking for anything like that. but you’re the best thing he’s gotten in a long while from playing soccer so often. what a great prize you were, he wasn’t playing to get you anyway, he didn’t care, all of the other guys went crazy over the thought of winning such a prize, having their own woman to fawn over, do whatever they wanted with and face little consequences, whilst avoiding the effort of finding one too, but he didn’t care at all. but somehow, he’s glad he’s the best. he’s glad he’s the best because it brought you to him. you’re his now. you haven’t quite fully accepted it yet, but you will. you’re only resisting because you don’t want anyone to think you’re weak. or desperate. or stupid. or anything negative. but no one will think that anyway, you’re a prize now, trophies don’t need to stress about such trivial matters. your world is sae now. you can be as mindless and carefree as you want, because you don’t have any other responsibilities any more other than being a subservient little princess for sae itoshi. he knows you’re probably having an internal conflict, but he has patience. he has patience that spans for miles and miles. he could wait a decade. he’s not an angry guy, he doesn’t care at all. he’s not an anything guy really. one thing he’s pretty sure about though is that he won’t need that patience, you’ll crack. and it won’t take long. he’s happy at that fact, but he won’t show you it.

he knows his thoughts were correct when you trusted him enough to sleep in his bed the first night. you must have been really tired, huh? tired angel. sweet girl. that’s what he’s thinking. he thinks you’re all sorts of things. all positive, but all so demeaning. you’re just a possession after all, he still won you, and you’re so easy. you took no effort at all. you’re just something to be doted on, and used, not someone with a mind of their own, you aren’t equal to him. you’re more akin to… to a doll, he supposes. it’s fitting for you. he pats your head as you sleep against his chest and strokes your hair a bit. god you’re cute. yeah, you’re really his doll. being the best has never felt as good.

[mustainegf]

Can you do a 88’ AJFA Kirk smut where your his girlfriend and on tour with him and you are throwing pretty flirty glances at him all night and Kirk cant take it anymore so he takes you to the empty tour bus and yk 🤭🤭

(and maybe when they get off the other guys tell them they saw the bus shaking…)

YES MY FAVOURITE KIRK ERA 😍

The party was in full swing, the room buzzing with laughter and the sound of music. Kirk and his bandmates were celebrating the end of a successful tour, and the atmosphere was unlike anything I’d ever felt.

I stayed close to Kirk, mingling with friends and enjoying the evening, but my eyes kept drifting back to him. Every time he caught my gaze, I felt a thrill run through me.

There was something about the way he looked at me tonight, a hunger that made my skin tingle.

I couldn’t help but flirt with him all night, throwing him playful glances and coy smiles.

The tension between us built steadily, an invisible string pulling us closer with every passing minute. Kirk’s bandmates were chatting animatedly, but he seemed distracted, his eyes frequently meeting mine across the room.

Finally, unable to take it anymore, he leaned in close and whispered, “I can’t stand it anymore. Let’s get out of here.”

My heart raced as I followed him outside. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth inside, but I barely noticed. We headed towards the tour bus, the one place we knew would be empty.

As soon as we were inside, Kirk’s demeanor changed. He turned to me, his eyes dark with desire.

“You’ve been teasing me all night,” he said, his voice low and rough. “So desperate for me, aren’t you?”

I giggled, feeling a rush of excitement at his words. “Maybe I am,” I replied, my voice low and sultry.

He didn’t waste any time. In one swift movement, he slammed me down over a small table, his hands gripping my hips tightly.

The suddenness of it took my breath away, and I gasped as I felt his hard length pressing against me.

“Is this what you wanted?” he teased, his lips brushing against my ear. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“I want it, Kirk,” I panted, the need in my voice evident. “I want you so bad.”

He chuckled darkly, pulling my pants down in one quick motion. I shivered as the cool air hit my exposed skin, but the feeling was quickly replaced by the heat of his touch. Kirk didn’t hesitate, entering me with one hard thrust that made me cry out in pleasure.

“Oh god, Kirk,” I moaned, gripping the edges of the table for support. “You feel so good.”

He moved with a relentless rhythm, each thrust hard and deep, driving me wild with need. “You’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice strained with effort. “So perfect.”

I could barely form coherent thoughts, my body overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations.

The sensation of every one of his veins gliding past my insides was better than anything.

“Kirk, yes, just like that,” I managed to gasp out. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. His hands roamed over my body, gripping and caressing, and I felt like I was on fire. “You’re mine,” he growled, his thrusts becoming even more urgent. “No one else gets to see you like this.”

“Only you, Kirk,” I whimpered, my body trembling. “Only you.”

The pleasure built steadily, coiling tighter and tighter until I thought I might explode. With one final, powerful thrust, I came, crying out his name as waves of ecstasy washed over me.

Kirk followed moments later, his grip on me tightening as he groaned my name in bliss, shooting his load inside me.

We stayed like that for a few moments, catching our breath and reveling in the afterglow.

“Holy shit, I can believe we just did that…” Kirk giggled.

Then, with a shared laugh, we quickly cleaned ourselves up, redressed and made our way back to the party, still giddy from what had just happened.

As we walked in, James, one of Kirk’s bandmates, approached us with a knowing grin. “You two had fun out there?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” Kirk replied, trying to play it cool.

“We saw the bus shaking,” James said, laughing. “Couldn’t help but notice.”

I blushed furiously, but Kirk just laughed, wrapping an arm around my waist. “What can I say? Sometimes the party just needs to move outside.”

[ziploc849]

My final TMA post of season 2. I think in the future I might try and keep these posts a lot shorter, limit my word count or sentence amount or something like that. But in the meantime, enjoy my thoughts on Episode 79 and 80!! I’ll be making a separate posts about some of my thoughts specifically regarding some shit we learned in episode 80. This is a long one so buckle in yall. I hope my ramblings are at least semi coherent

Ep 79: So many fucking thoughts. Jon doesn’t remember what Sasha looked like. Martin and Tim saw Not-Sasha even if they don’t understand it. Martin and Tim ending up in Michael’s. Domain? That feels like a fitting word at this point, even the way Michael talks, the way he has to remember the word for “sport”, makes me think that he’s not even something that’s good at pretending to be human. Not-Them is so fucking scary, the idea of them “wearing” the people they kill not like wearing their skin, but like wearing their essence, taking their place in the world but not their likeness. Fucking terrifying. Not-Sasha saying the institute “has the biggest eyes you ever did see”. Saying that if they took Jon’s place and became the Archivist he’d “miss the Unknowing” whatever that means. She talks about “robbing the eye of its pupil”. Archivist is capitalized in the transcripts when she says it, like it’s a title or a name. So much weird eye imagery in this fucking show. Strange mystery man appearing from the shadows and. Killing Not-Sasha? I’m not entirely sure what that was. God this episode was a lot from like 20-100 so fast

Ep 80: one of the YouTube comments on this episode is from that one TikTok “day 23 in the chamber, they ain’t found me yet but when they do they gonna be surprised” and that gave me a good laugh after this HELL of a fucking episode. You’re telling me we meet JURGEN LEITNER and then witness his DEATH in the same fucking episode???? What the shit??!?? All of my answers and ideas from the last episode were immediately answered here lmao

The Not-Them is trapped, not dead, likely never able to die according to Leitner. The real Sasha is dead forever, and it’s not surprising but there is a deep injustice in that. She didn’t have an inkling of what was going on.

There’s a book that works on Smirke’s architecture and is related to the phobia of claustrophobia, another hint I think.

The amusement in Jon’s voice with “That’ll be our Gerard” makes me wonder if I’ve missed something about his character related to the others, or if it’s just Jon happy to recognize something familiar in all of this.

The evolution through the episode of “what do you mean you thought they were just books, they are right?” to “oh god. They are so much more than books.” Leitner says some of them must like the flame, that things would take a different form if the book was burned. Is that what some of the creatures are? The ones that aren’t even pretending to be something strange and terrifying? Beings released from books and allowed to be more overtly dangerous? Like unbinding Not-Sasha from the table?

The description of what happened when the house was attacked is chilling and brings back many, many memories. Stabbed through the throat by something with too many teeth and limbs like knives sounds like the bajillions of people-to-the-left we’ve seen. Similar to Not-Them I think? Or maybe there’s a different example I can’t remember. Pulled into a maw that opened up from the floor, which sounds identical to the hole in The Butchers Window. Ran into a door that didn’t exist, Michael obviously. A hand through the roof simply grabbing someone is reminiscent of the way the sky ate, or somehow took the man in Freefall. An assistant whose name isn’t memorable anymore (though all the others’ are) being pulled into a pile of meat, the former sounds similar to what we saw in Lost and Found, but the meat mentioned sounds more reminiscent to things we saw in The Man Upstairs. Rooms taken by darkness or fire, things we have already seen the power of overtly and know very well.

Gertrude had 3 assistants, all 3 “meeting an unpleasant end”. I do not like the foreshadowing that offers for Tim and Martin, with Sasha already gone.

And of course. The entities. The humans to us, the ants. I find the analogy Leitner uses to be particularly interesting, even if I don’t know if he meant it in this way. Fingernails digging, changing the world in a fraction of a second, changing reality in a way ants could never fully understand. Like a creature taking the entire idea of a person and warping it to meet their needs. Changing memories and photographs and nearly everything in its path. The sky moving, in ways it shouldn’t because it just doesn’t, to pluck a man from reality. Eyes watching, knowing and seeing and observing, filing information away in a horrifying and terribly understanding kind of way. Always there, it’s people of interest never far from view even as they’re driven mad. Shadows vast and unfathomable, darkness that seems to spread the way light does. Endless expanses entirely impossible and yet very, very real to the people who see it. Themes we’ve seen before all over this series.

Leitner says Michael is “The Distortion”, “The Spiral”. Illusions and hallucinations and insanity. I think some things are falling into place, and I might have to make a seperate post on it cause this one is already way too long, but I think my phobias theory wasn’t too far off.

Elias killed Gertrude. Gertrude and Leitner were going to destroy the archives. Elias took files, files on “The Stranger”. Another mention of the Unknowing. Another entity? An event to come?

[Brutal Pipe Murder] made me laugh far harder than it should’ve. Sorry Leitner. What is the dripping (I don’t want to know). I don’t know how long Tim and Martin were gone, but gods they came on an awful scene. And they think Jon did it. God season 3 is gonna be Fucked.

[bookshelf-dust]

really know him

part i part ii part iii part iv

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3,686

warnings: swearing, reader has a shitty mom, a few uses of y/n, anxiety, fluff and angst

a/n: hi! listen, i know, i know, it’s been more than a month since i published part two and i’m sorry. but i promise it won’t take as long anymore. i hope you like this part! there’s a lot going on. it’s getting messy, my dudes. love you! <333

————

Your room is small. And you don’t mind that one bit. Hell, you’re lucky your parents snagged one of the few single-wide’s with a layout nice enough that there even are two bedrooms. 

But sometimes the small space can seem confining, like right now. 

You’ve been staring at college-ruled paper for what seems like forever now, and…you’ve got nothing. You spent all day brainstorming for this essay, and now that you’ve sat down, you’ve lost it all. It’s as if there isn’t a single coherent thought left in your brain. 

You hop up from your seat, thinking that if you get a drink, maybe listen to some music, then you’ll be able to get a hold on your concentration. 

And it works, for a while. You’ve been at your desk for well over an hour, and you’ve put a hell of a dent in your paper. 

But having your headphones on means you don’t hear your parents come home, not until your mother is smacking her fist against your door frame to get your attention. 

“Hello?”

You’re quick to push the pause button in on your walkman and put your headphones on the tabletop in front of you. The amount of eraser shavings you’ve accumulated is unsettling. 

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

Your mother lets out what you're sure is the most dramatic sigh known to man. “Of course you didn’t, not with those things on your ears.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better about it, okay?”

She crosses her arms, leaning against the wall just inside your room. “Mhm. How’s your paper going?”

“It’s fine. Not due for a week.”

“So you’ve said. Anyways, I came in here because I was at the store yesterday, and Sherri caught up with me.”

“Oh, yeah? How is she?”

Sherri Henson is a bitch. She’s the kind of woman who peaked in high school and can’t seem to grasp that—even if she is well into her fifties by now—spending all her time corralling the neighborhood gossip. She’s lived a couple trailers down from you your whole life. And she’s yet another reason why you need to get the fuck out of dodge. 

“Oh, she’s fine. She just wanted to tell me that she’s seen you hanging out with that Eddie Munson boy. And I haven’t heard good things about him. I just wanted to know what you were up to.”

Your stomach drops. Of course she’d say some shit like that. “We’re friends. I’m allowed to have those, aren’t I?”

“Yes. But don’t you think it would be wise to make good friends?”

You rub at your forehead, already sick of this. There’s a reason you don’t tell your mother anything about your life. 

“You don’t know anything about him, do you?”

Your mother pushes her glasses up into her mess of hair. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t really understand how you can be judgmental of a guy you don’t even know. You’re always whining about how I don’t have friends, and now that I’ve made one, he’s not good enough?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. I just don’t want you to harm your education by hanging around some good-for-nothing boy.”

“I think I can make my own decisions.”

“Clearly not. Look at you.” She doesn’t say anything more, but leaves the room instead. 

You should be used to this. You should know that your mother doesn’t like that you aren’t a carbon copy of her. But it still stings. The feeling is drowning you; the feeling of being pathetic, unsuccessful, embarrassing. 

You need a minute. It’s not like you can concentrate on your paper here anyways. Your mother has already shut herself up in her own bedroom, and you know she won’t miss you if you’re not around. 

A lift of the blinds in your bedroom tells you that Eddie’s van is parked outside his trailer, but you don’t feel right just running over, so you call. 

Of course he picks up.

He hasn’t even said his name yet and you’ve already started talking. “Eddie?”

“Hey, yeah, something wrong?”

You sound frazzled. If Eddie’s being totally straight with himself, he might even say you sound a little panicky. Claustrophobic, maybe.

He doesn’t like hearing you sound like this. 

“Would it be okay if I came over for a bit? You can say no, I just…your company might help.”

You can feel that cocky ass grin from over the phone. The way your words register in his brain and he comes up with a response he knows will get you riled up.

“Oh, my company? That what you need?”

“Eddie,” he can practically see you waving him off, “nevermind.”

He laughs. “Okay, sorry. Yeah, you can come over. You didn’t have to ask. Could’ve just busted in.”

“That seems like a horrendous idea. And isn’t Wayne home?”

“Yeah, but he sleeps like the dead. He wouldn’t even notice. That’s what he gets for having me around after all this time.”

“Poor Wayne.”

He scoffs and stumbles over his words. “Poor Wayne? 

“Yeah, I feel for him, having to put up with you all these years. Anyways, I’ll be there in a second.”

“You little shit–” he starts, but you’re already hanging up. 

Eddie opens the door closest to his room to watch for you. You bound across the road and up the concrete step, clearly pleased with yourself. He backs up, that stupid ass grin on his face, and gestures with his arm for you to go inside. 

He notices you’ve brought your bag with you. “Plotting my murder?” he inquires, eyes dancing over the corduroy. 

“Absolutely. Any sort of preference?”

He sits down on his bed, back to the wall. “Maybe the candlestick? Rope could be fun. Or if you’re feeling particularly malicious: poison.”

“Remind me to never play Clue with you.”

He laughs and it’s low and drawn out like he knows he’s being annoying. Like he knows you enjoy it. 

“Why, because you know I’ll kick your ass?”

You smile at him, and it feels like he’s won the lottery. “Precisely.” 

“I’d go easy on you,” he argues. 

“Bullshit.”

Eddie watches you fiddle with the zipper on your bag and then pull out a piece of paper. You flop down in his desk chair, making yourself at home. He’s told you to do that more than once, so he’s glad to see you act on it. 

“What are we working on?”

“I’m supposed to be finishing a paper, and that’s what I was doing, but being berated doesn’t really help my focus.”

He chuckles, opening a bag of Skittles you didn’t even know he had. “I wouldn’t think so. You wanna talk about it?”

“No, that’s okay.” 

Eddie nods, hoping you’ll open up to him sooner than later. 

“Would you prefer if I just went about my business while you worked?”

“I really would, Eddie. Thank you.”

“Mhm. Anything you need, sweetheart.”

He hops up, and his fingers go to mess with the radio, but he stops himself short. “Will this bother you? If I keep it low?”

You shake your head, tapping your eraser on the desk. He gives you a frantic thumbs up before trying to make sure the music doesn’t murder your hearing. 

It’s on some rock station, where some of the songs are ones you’re familiar with, others not so much.

“Good?” he asks, and you return his earlier thumbs up. It makes him grin.

He settles back on his mattress, though it groans in protest as he does. He scratches away at a notebook for a while, and the room stays quiet. Just being in the same room as him is enough to keep you calm and give you time to focus.

You make more progress on the paper now then you had at home, and start to think maybe you should do all your work in Eddie’s company.

Eventually Eddie gets bored and pushes up, his hands coming to rest against the desk on either side of you, caging you in. He kisses the top of your head before resting his chin on it, peering down at your paper.

“Damn. Almost done?”

“Yeah. Should probably quit and come back to it later anyway.” 

“Wanna see something fun?” You look up at him and he’s got a wild look in his eyes, a wide smile on his face. 

“I don’t know if I trust that.”

“Oh, come on. Take a break. For me?” Eddie bats his eyelashes and you smack him on the arm. He stands and stumbles backwards as if you’ve brutally wounded him, though the smile stays and really ruins the act. 

“Fine. Let’s see.”

He’s got this brilliant, boyish look on his face. You can tell he’s excited. It’s the kind of excitement that rubs off on you, that makes you anxious to know what it’s for, even if it is something small. 

He moves to the corner of his room and opens this big chest that you might not have even noticed because of how much surrounds it. You realize, though, that there’s a handful of Dungeons and Dragons handbooks, a binder covered in stickers, other things you don’t entirely understand.

Eddie digs around for a second, and then he pulls out a little velvet bag. He brandishes it to you, shaking it a little. Whatever’s inside makes noise.

“I got new dice. And I know what you’re thinking, ‘Eddie that’s so amazing, I can’t believe you’d share this with me,’ but believe it, because they’re cool, okay? Prepare yourself.”

You take a dramatically over exaggerated deep breath, gearing yourself up. “Ready, Eddie.”

He snorts. He can’t believe you. 

He dumps them out next to you on his bed. “Ta-da!”

You pick one up, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t squeal. The dice are a translucent red color, with black numbers, and they’ve got little bats set into them. 

Fucking bats. 

You look up and Eddie’s big brown eyes are shining down at you. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, clearly trying to contain himself.

“Eddie, these are so cool!”

He throws himself on the bed beside you. “They’re sick, right?” 

You pick up a handful, looking at all of the different ones as they roll around between your fingers. “Yeah. These are fucking cool, dude.”

Eddie giggles. He giggles. His glee is palpable. 

“I’m honored that you wanted to share this with me, Mr. Munson.”

“Of course, of course,” he says, scooping them up and putting them back in the bag. “I don’t just go showing my dice to anyone, you know.”

You laugh, hard, and it’s the first time Eddie’s heard you laugh like that. He thinks he could live off of the sound. He wouldn’t need anything else. 

“Well I’m glad you showed them to me.”

Eddie winks at you. “Me too.”

————

Eddie doesn’t hear from you for a few days, but it doesn’t worry him really. He knows you're busy with school, and he is too, now that he’s trying to get the hell out of there for real this time. He’s also working on a big ass campaign. He thinks this might be the one where Dustin’s character finally dies, the little fucker. He’s managed to kill off everyone else’s characters at least once (Gareth a few more), but never Dustin.

He does miss you, though.

Eddie is finding that he doesn’t like being without you as much as he likes being with you. 

He’s starting to show you parts of himself that he hasn’t shown other people before. He usually doesn’t have the ability to sit quietly in a room with someone else. Or watch for fucking bats. Hell, he built a fort for you. 

And he’s laying in bed, well past the time he should be asleep, thinking about how he doesn’t feel like you’re letting him get to know you like he is you. 

Eddie’s room is dark except for the light coming in through the window. He goes to rest his hand on his chest, but cold metal meets his bare skin and he’s quick to unsnap the bracelet he left on his wrist. 

He knows what you’re in school for. He knows you’re into bats. That you laugh at stupid, immature shit just like he does. Shit you’d get in trouble for laughing at. 

But if what he’s feeling, deep down, is what he thinks it is, he wants to give all of himself to you. And he wants all of you. 

He really does. 

And something about the way you held him that night that you stayed over told him you felt more. He can see you letting go sometimes. But more often it feels reluctant. 

Eddie just wants you to know that he’s not going anywhere. That he wants you safe. Happy.

He wants you for you.

Not for whatever else anyone tells you.

You are everything he’s ever wanted.

You.

————

“How’d you do on your paper?” Eddie asks. You’d told him when it was due, and just now that you’d gotten it back.

“Fine.”

“Fine? That’s all I get?”

Something’s wrong with you today. He’d invited you over for lunch, and you’d come, but the smile you gave him at the door wasn’t genuine. Something is hurting you, and you haven’t told him what. 

And it’s killing him.

He can’t help you if you won’t let him. 

You set down your drink, a little harder than you’d meant to, and sigh. 

Fuck, Eddie thinks. The last thing he wants to do is frustrate you. 

“I got a B.”

His eyebrows raise over the enormous bite of sandwich he’s just taken. He decides to behave and chew it all before he speaks. Wayne might not get the same treatment.

“Oh yeah? That’s so good! I’m proud of you.”

You nod your head, but you don’t look at him. If he’s being honest, it kind of hurts his feelings.

“You might be the only one,” you mumble. 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s…it’s nothing, Eddie. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He grabs the bag of chips out of your hand before you can shove your mouth full of them, and you look incredibly offended. 

“Don’t do that. Tell me what you meant.” Eddie’s voice is serious. He’s never spoken to you like this before. 

You run your hands over your face. “My mom. She told me I could’ve done better than that.” You don’t say that she also said it was probably a result of spending so much time with Eddie. 

Eddie sets your bag of chips back down. “That’s bullshit. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“You’re a total badass, and I know you’re hard working as shit. If she can’t see that, then fuck her man.” 

You won’t look at him. 

You won’t look at him. 

“You can’t listen to that shit, man. I hate seeing you like this.”

“I didn’t want you to see me like this, Eddie.” He cocks his head at you, brown eyes boring into yours. “And it’s not exactly easy, just ignoring it. I’ve heard it for years, that I could be trying harder or doing something differently or anything, so it’s like fuckin’ ingrained in my brain. And sometimes I think it’s true.”

Eddie reaches across the table for your hand, his laying palm-up, waiting for you to accept it. You limply supply your hand to him, and he pushes his thumb into the center, rubbing in slow circles. He’s hoping the contact might be enough to pull you out of your head some. 

“Look at me,” Eddie says. 

You're quick to think about the night he found you moping on the bench. He’d said that then too. 

“Look at me.”

You shake your head again. 

“It’s okay. I’m not going to make fun of you,” he says, and you believe him, though really looking at him and his big brown eyes is enough to wash a surge of sadness over you. 

Eddie uses his thumb to wipe the fresh tears from under your lashes, grazing the tip of your now stuffy nose with his knuckle. You wrinkle it and he grins. 

Eddie’s thinking about it too. How upset you’d looked. How upset you look now. But he also remembers something else. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not really, no.”

You hadn’t wanted to talk about your feelings then, and that was understandable because you hadn’t seen the guy in forever. But it’s different now. Isn’t it? Eddie feels differently for you. And he can see that you care about him, obviously, but what if he’s reading this wrong? What if you don’t want him as anything other than a friend?

This time though, you do look up at him. “It’s not true. I know your brain is telling you that, and maybe you even hear your parents saying that shit, and if your mind works anything like mine does–and I think it does–then I know it’s so fucking annoying, and you can’t do anything without hearing some negative response.”

“But it isn’t true. You work your ass off, and you’re kind and caring, and I’m sorry, but I can’t have you thinking otherwise, you hear me?”

You nod your head, and Eddie’s quick to swipe up the tear he sees fall, before you even know you’re crying. 

He gets up, coming over to where you're sitting and crouching in front of you. He puts his hands on your knees, but you push them off and stand, forcing him to follow so that he doesn’t bust his ass. 

You wipe your face off, drag your hands across your jeans, the feeling of Eddie’s hand on yours still burning through your nerves. 

“Eddie, I think I’m gonna go home.”

Something about this, about the tone in your voice, how resigned you sound, makes Eddie frustrated. 

He doesn’t move from his place in front of you. He can’t just let this go. He isn’t wired that way. 

“So this is how it’s gonna go, huh?”

You blink at him. “What are you talking about?”

He puts his hands on his hips, and he knows he looks like Wayne, he knows it, but he can’t find it in himself to care right now. 

“You come over, you’re upset, but you won’t talk to me about it, and when you do start to talk about it, you give me vague answers and you shrug it off. That’s not talking, Y/N.”

“This is hard for me, Eddie! I don’t know what to do with myself when someone wants to listen to me, okay?”

“I understand that, but you’ve gotta at least try.”

“Try what?”

“Letting me in, for fucks sake! I can’t fucking help you, if you won’t let me in!”

Eddie sounds exasperated. And now you’re both shouting at each other. Shouting.

“Eddie, I–”

“Listen, just give me a second. You wouldn’t talk about what happened that night you stayed over except vaguely–and that’s okay with me–but then you wouldn't talk to me the other day, either. And now you’re just…I feel like you’re shutting me out.”

“I want to help you, and I know it takes time to open up, but I know that you know you’re safe with me. And I want to help make it better. I want you, Y/N, and I just–why won’t you let me in?”

It feels like your heart has stopped. Like he’s messing with you. But you know better than that. And you should’ve known that was coming at some point. 

“Eddie, don’t say that.”

“Say what?” He wants to hear the words leave your mouth. 

You mess with your fingers, and he grabs your hands to get you to quit. “That you want me, Eddie. You can’t just say that.”

“And why can’t I, huh? Because it involves feelings? Y’know those things that you won’t share with me?”

You step a little ways back from him, but you’re still cornered. He knows that stung, but if he hadn’t said it now, he might never have at all. 

“Eddie, you can’t actually want me. You’ve said it yourself, I’m incapable of being open and not fucking things up! Look at what we’re doing!”

“And what if I do want you? What then?”

“Then I don’t know!” you yell, louder than you’d intended. 

Eddie moves away from you then, sitting back down, and crossing his arms. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, despite the fact that you’re arguing. 

“I never said you were fucking things up. And I didn’t say you were incapable of being open,” he breathes. “That’s all I want, for you to be open with me. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me, like you have to let that shit eat you alive.”

“But aren’t I? Fucking it up? Eddie, you’re the only friend I’ve got and you’re being honest with me and all I’ve done is fuss at you. That’s like, the definition of fucking things up.”

“You’re not. I just want you to let me in.”

You’re both quiet for a minute. You walk around the trailer, cleaning up your lunch and grabbing your things. It’s mindless, and you’re not even sure you want to go home. 

“I meant what I said,” Eddie starts. “I do want you. And I mean as more than just a friend. I’m—” I’m falling in love with you. But he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say that he wishes he’d said so sooner. That he’d told you in high school. None of that matters now. He wants you, and he thinks he always will. 

“I would never lie to you about that,” he says. 

You take a shaky breath. “I know that you wouldn’t, Eddie. I just…I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me. You do know.”

“I think maybe you should want someone who’s not so much trouble.”

And Eddie can’t say anything, because you’ve already turned and rushed down the stairs, the door slamming shut behind you. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @ajkamins @golddustwitches @copycatkillerfics @prestinalove @zaypay @clovermunson @kelsiegrin @storiesbyrhi @avalon-wolf

[suckerforobliviousidiotsinlove]

Question how did y’all interpret “for the new unicorn” bc like I have multiple thoughts but they aren’t coherent so sorry but

1. First of all Lucius wrote that he’s the scribe he wrote it (sorry that’s a little bit important to my Sprizzy shipping heart especially with Izzy’s little smile)

2. Ok so one interpretation I had was essentially Lucius was saying “welcome to the gays” (since unicorns are associated with queer culture) bc like Izzy being repressed af but now not anymore but like also Lucius doesn’t really know that so maybe that’s not what it meant

3. The unicorn was the figurehead of the ship so was it like saying Izzy is the new figurehead for them?? Idk like I said these thoughts are not fully formed my brain is a little broken

4. Maybe something else idk what do you think?

[amor-immortalem]

So lesson 40’s here and season 2’s over huh? Let’s complain about it together

I’m simultaneously dissatisfied and satisfied with S2’s ending. I have negative feelings about the hard mode 40-8 in particular.

I feel like if this is actually the original timeline were back in, the brothers should have had a bigger reaction to MC’s return cuz like didn’t Solomon say that we just up and disappeared at the start of season 1 and the bros were a complete mess?

Makes me feel like something’s up- like the brothers’ perception of time has been altered or messed with in some way.

Initially I thought that Lucifer had seen the way his brothers and himself were suffering and wrought with worry for MC being missing so he asked Barbatos to cast a spell on them to kind of ease that by not making it seem so long that MC’s been gone and make it feel more like only a few days to months (or hell maybe he could’ve learnt to do it himself- this is Lucifer we’re talking about here) but now I’m not so sure and maybe we didn’t actually end up in the correct timeline. Or maybe this is all just nightbringer’s influence (cuz remember they’re all about leading others to happiness or something along those lines)

Either way I’m generally not a fan of it- I wanted that big sappy reunion with over the top dramatics with my favorite demons, damnit! I’ve been robbed!

Also where the fuck did Solomon go? he went through the rift in space time with us so shouldn’t there have at least been a small interaction with him when we arrived at the HOL even if it was along the lines of “oh good we’ve made it back in one piece, I’ll let you go inside and have some time to catch up with the brothers on your own. I’m gonna go debrief with Barbatos” or something?

And then there’s Nightbringer- or more specifically, their lack of presence within Season 2. When was the last time they’d even been mentioned in the story(lesson 21? 22? Were they ever mentioned at all after that?)

I know obvious answer is that Nightbringer=Barbatos (is it just me or was Barbs acting kinda… weird? Throughout the lesson??? He had me feeling like ‘this mf knows we time traveled don’t he?’) but anyway it feels like, for a character the game is literally named for, they’re not very important and front ‘n center…

Maybe S3 will be more focused on Nightbringer and whatever the hell’s going on with that weird ass reception from the brothers we got but for now we’ll just have to wait (I wouldn’t be surprised if solmare made us wait until April when the game hits its one year anniversary for S3 just like it played out in the OG game…)

Also also if the devs don’t hurry up and make 13, mephisto, and raphael dateable in S3 I’m going to riot. Lemme give my pretty wife kisses and take her on cute dates and shit. It’s been like 2 or 3 seasons since she was introduced! Whats the hold up?

My thoughts aren’t coherent anymore so I’ll stop but see y’all in April for Season 3

[redg5]

I’ve been left alone again so it’s time for “random thoughts that seem to have taken over my brain” TM:

Why is there two Collector Mirrors? There is the one Belos had, but there is also the Trappers’ mirror, which by the time we see it is already broken. What was the point of there being two mirrors? Who made the mirrors? And why was one broken but the Collector still trapped?

Ok, so we know that the Trappers’ mirror is broken by the time we see it. We also know that the Collector’s mirror that Belos had breaks when King frees them. When King, I guess, astral projects himself into the In Between we see what looks like shards, of which look similar to the mirrors, floating around the Collector’s prison.

I kinda have to ideas of what this could mean. I think no matter what, the mirrors we see are meant to be a communication device. Either between Archivists, or whatever you wanna call the Collector’s species, themselves or between them and the Trappers.

If it’s between the Archivists and the Trappers then they’d only need two mirrors. This would allow the Trappers to contact the Archivists when they found another Titan, and allow the Archivists to give the Trappers orders. Of course this is under the assumption that the Archivists formed the Trappers, not the Collector, which I think makes more sense anyways when it comes to the Collector as a character. Sure, you could say they made the Trappers and somewhere along the line there was a disconnect in communication which lead them to hunting Titans but there is still that picture in the Archive House.

So the disconnect could get you the “even when those trapper jerks started acting weird” but it doesn’t explain this photo which implies the Archivists themselves started the Trappers. So with the assumption that the Archivists created the Trappers, the mirror could have been used to give/receive orders.

However this doesn’t really explain how there are shards around the Collector’s prison. So, if the mirrors are used to talk between Archivists, well there are at least four older Archivists.

Maybe they each had their own mirror to talk to one another. If that’s the case, then the Collector is probably too young to have one himself. That means there could be upwards to four mirrors and maybe if one of them breaks it’s no longer able to communicate but is still somehow connected to the other mirrors. This could explain why we hear the Collector’s laugh in Edge of the World when the Trappers are about to sacrifice King. Then the main question would be how did the Collector bring them into the In Between when he was trapped and how did the mirror shatter?

I’m less confident in the four mirrors honestly but oh well. It still gets me to how the Trappers’ mirror broke. Maybe their mirror was used to trap the Collector and that’s how it broke. We already know they break when set free, what’s to say the same can’t happen when reversed? Not to mention we aren’t really given a clear answer on how the Collector was trapped anyways. I don’t think one of their siblings could have been trapped as well because both the Collector and Papa Titan make it seem like they were the only ones left at that point.

Idk. This is all just speculation that I felt should be typed down somewhere. I don’t even know if this is coherent anymore. Or if it ever was.

[apex-academy]

Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#18)

Lunch is my first remotely decent excuse to leave Mahavir’s side. As much as I’d like to support my friend, watching him stew in his guilt sure isn’t helping me. Which means I’m not helping him much, either.

I confirm he’s staying in the Nurse’s Office, then trek back to the cafeteria. No Tsunyasha, at least.

“Oh, GREAT! JUST when I thought I might get some PEACE AND QUIET!”

“Right, I’m the threat to that here.”

I flee to the kitchen before he can manage a coherent response. No idea what I want to eat, though, and Mahavir certainly didn’t have suggestions. Time to stand blankly in front of an open refrigerator and hope it hikes up the young master’s electric bills.

Unfortunately, it’s also cold, so I grab some cheese and deli meat and shut the door before too long. After a few moments’ contemplation, I decide I’m not in the mood for any more meal-making decisions, so I’ll just make rollups of these. Bread’s overrated, anyway.

“...And so are condiments, I guess.”

Whatever. I’m sticking with it.

...And standing in the kitchen to eat so I don’t have to hear whatever Ichiriki’s raving about now. Is he just bored? Does he need some new colors of chalk for a little enrichment?

Well. I make fun of him, but I sure wouldn’t mind access to the art room again. No chance of that unless someone else uses it for a murder, though.

“...”

I finish my food and make Mahavir a plate. Can’t imagine him having any remnant of an appetite right now, but might as well try.

Unfortunately, the cafeteria’s still the only exit from here. 

Maybe I should run.

Or actually check on Ichiriki, I guess. Gotta admit, “Is Ichiriki doing okay” is not a thought that’s crossed my mind much. He’s just... He just is. I don’t know. He’s free to leave with the rest of us if he is one of us, but until then... Not my problem. Got enough of those already.

So, a fine brisk pace it is.

But when I step out, Ichiriki is no longer alone.

“...sure you wouldn’t be interested?”

“Of COURSE NOT! The FIRST one was bad ENOUGH!”

“But you’re curious, aren’t you?”

“No!”

“Just a little bit?”

“MAYBE!”

“........”

Think I’m good to just. Slink on out of here unnoticed.

“Ah, Miss Kogamino!”

Assuming Aidan wouldn’t notice something was a bad call on my part. “Do I want to know what I’m missing over here?”

“You ABSOLUTELY don’t!”

Not sure why I asked. Really striking out on logical behavior today.

“Not another weird dream, I hope?”

“No...”

“...Or at least not one of my own! There’s no telling where the writers got their inspiration, of course.”

Ichiriki mentioned “the first one”...

“Ah. The movie sequel.”

“.............”

More words are said, but I’m so distracted I can’t even tell who spoke. With current company, that’s really saying something.

Another dream... What was it that I...

“Hang on.”

I turn around to retrieve my little “young master deductions”—like you could really call them that—notebook and flip to the last filled pages, the letters askew and distorted from drowsiness and poor lighting.

Flashback dreams... Yeah, I sure do have those sometimes.

But not just me.

I wheel on Aidan and slap my hands on the table to catch myself, interrupting whatever I end up interrupting.

“Aidan! Your dream!”

The boys break off their conversation with widely varying levels of offended sputtering. Aidan adjusts his glasses.

“Er. The ‘professional air traffic controller’ one, or something else?”

“The one you told me about the other day.” Yesterday? I don’t even know anymore. 

“You woke up in a mirror of Lab Room A, right?”

“Within the dream? Yes, that sounds accurate.”

The table’s edge digs into my palms.

“What if that was real?”

He hums.

“I suppose it’s entirely possible. There must be a Lab Room B, after all, even if we’ve yet to be allowed inside.” 

“And I’m sure I would have been kept somewhere on-campus to minimize risk of discovery by unrelated parties.”

“Which is probably why we haven’t been let inside, right? If the young master’s cutting-edge revival technology, or whatever, was in there...”

I lean in further, much to Ichiriki’s offense. Don’t care.

“Were any of the other students there in the dream? Can you remember?”

“I hate to report that dreams are partially immune from my perfect memory skills here, but... Let’s see.”

Ichiriki grumbles to himself, but at least he’s not yelling over us. Probably doesn’t know what to say. I’ll take it.

“I can’t guarantee that the other fallen students were present.” 

“But I am certain that the life support systems and such did not take up the entirety of the room. There was space for other beds, or whatever you'd call the thing I was lying on.”

“So, if all of you were hooked up before that motive vote, and only before it, and if you’re the only one who was—then—!”

I think he responds, but I’m busy swinging my head around to check every corner of the room. Not here. Wasn’t in the kitchen. But if I’m right...

Dizzy, I try to remember to breathe as I charge into the hallway.

“MONOCHAP! I need to talk to you, now!”

[BACK] [NEXT]

[deluxewhump]

Erik's Journals pt 7 (2022)

Content Warning for entire series: institutionalized slavery of a minor (11-18), emotional abuse and manipulation, dubious comfort, pet whump, disordered eating, violence, guns, mutilation (off screen, no main characters), corporal punishment, sexual content/dubcon ( character is 18+), broken bones, death of a parent, unreliable narrator

14. The Frame of Fables

December 2022 

I took him out to dinner. Once. After that he told me he’d come by the house next time. I invited him over that very night but he was still a little too spooked. 

“Maybe without three glasses of wine in me,” he said. It sounded almost self-deprecating, as if he wasn’t as composed and coherent as he’d been before the first sip. Except his cheeks were pink, and I could see it in his eyes, warm and dark in the low light at our little table. 

“No wine, or a bottle,” I said, finishing my own glass and setting it down contentedly. “You’re welcome any which way.”

But we both knew what he’d really meant. He wanted his wits about him. Like I was going to try to trick him into some trap. I didn’t have the energy to pretend to be offended by this anymore. One thing must seem just as likely as the next, from his perspective. He has everything to lose. I have nothing.

I thought he’d lose his nerve, but three days later there he was in my study, curled in his old favorite armchair with his feet tucked to the side. I poured us each a drink and stood in front of him to hand him his. 

He took it and stared into it, lost in thought. 

“Please tell me you aren’t considering the possibility I would slip you something.” 

He blinked his way out of his thoughts and looked up at me, almost offended. “No. No.”

“Good,” I laughed, turning to light the fire that was already built and ready to burn in the hearth. 

“You always told me when you were giving me anything, from a vitamin to Percocet. And how it would affect me.”

The newspaper caught and curled at the edges, feeding the kindling. Three days ago he’d said he wouldn’t get in a car with me. Now he was in my study, drinking something I’d made him. “Did I?” 

“Yes. Well… other than the time I seem to recall a fight where you threatened to have me intubated against my will.”

I could feel his eyes on my back as I lit the other side of the fire. 

“Was that just to scare me? Remind me my sense of autonomy was an illusion? Even down to breathing?”

I sighed. “I was trying to get you to give up and eat something. You were harming yourself to spite me. I wouldn’t have done it.”

I heard the ice sliding in his glass as he lifted it to his mouth. “When you’d give me something you’d say, ‘this is for pain, don’t fight it if it makes you feel a little strange,’ or ‘this may make you want to sleep, so go ahead and sleep’.”

“I didn’t want you to be afraid.”

“And I wasn’t. I was so grateful you even cared. That it occurred to you I could feel pain, or fear, and that you didn’t want me in it. That’s how low the bar was.”

Satisfied with the fire that was catching, I rose stiffly to my feet and sat in the leather chair opposite him. I crossed my ankle over my knee and took a fiery sip of bourbon. He was talking. So I let him talk. 

“Do you remember the time I got seasick?”

I tilted my head, trying to mentally shuffle through the thick Rolodex of our years together. 

“It was off the Gulf of Mexico. Some guys boat. You were in the middle of a meeting, four or five of you were discussing something, I assumed it was important, like always. Business. I threw up over the railing and you came over to me.”

Had I snapped at him? I remembered being in Ft Myers, and vaguely the outing he was describing, but I didn’t remember the details. There were so many similar times. 

“I felt so guilty. You took me below deck and put me on a cot. You gave me Dramamine or something, and said it might make me sleepy, and to sleep if I could. That you’d be right outside. You got a cloth from somewhere and put it on my forehead. It was cold. It was the best thing I ever felt.” 

I smiled fondly. “Poor thing.”

He laughed at himself. “I was a seasick kid puking off a million dollar boat.”

“You were my pet,” I said, as if that explained it succinctly. “It was my job to take care of you.”

His smile faded. He looked thoughtfully into his drink, and then drained it. “That's exactly why it’s so hard to explain to anyone. I don’t think I’ve successfully done it yet.”

I raised my eyebrows, inviting him to elaborate. The fire danced and popped, the larger sticks of wood caught now.

“To Max. To the therapist I finally agreed to see. To my….” he trailed off. 

I think he is seeing someone romantically, and was afraid to tell me. He is protective of them, or of himself. 

“You bought me. Trained me, programmed me to be a companion to you. You were grooming me into exactly who you’d like me to be so you’d have me to play with someday. The patience was… pathological.” 

He was looking at me like he expected me to say something, perhaps argue. 

“I do have my standards.”

“Standards,” he repeated, enunciating to make it sound ridiculous. “You taught me classical piano, wouldn’t let my tutor smack me with that stick, but putting me in your warehouse to freeze and be tormented by grown men with a grudge against me was fine with you? What standard was that?”

“Socialization.”

He rolled his eyes in contempt. “You wanted me to know how much worse I could have it.”

“You sought out that information on your own,” I reminded him. “You looked up all sorts of sordid things about the fates of other pets. Some of the most disturbing things I’ve ever seen.”

He stared at me, processing that I’d known about this. “You monitored the computers.”

I shrugged. “From time to time.”

He tried to hide his blush by looking down at his lap into his empty rocks glass. He’d looked up all sorts of things over the years, all benign— definitions of words he’d come across and didn’t know, movie streaming services, stupid videos, forums. Occasional pornography ranging from the very tame all the way to S&M, like he was a shopper casually browsing a fruit stand with no particular idea what he craved.

In later years he’d tried to search records of his mother, to no avail, and read several academic papers and left wing op-eds pertaining to the pet trade’s surge in popularity among the wealthy in developed countries in the last decade. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’d have been more surprised if you hadn’t. I told you a few horror stories to keep you aware and safe when we traveled. You were corroborating them.”

“I know I could’ve done worse than you,” he said slowly, nodding. “A lot worse. That doesn’t make how much you made me love you any less painful. It's long-term Stockholm syndrome, and I can’t get out from underneath it.”

“Is that what your therapist calls it?”

“That’s what I call it.” 

“You don’t need to be deprogrammed, Carlo. You aren’t programmed. I never hid the world from you. I’d bet you’re better read and far better traveled than the majority of your college counterparts. I am not a one-man cult.”

He gave a cynical laugh, exasperated. “What the fuck is wrong with me, then?”

I could hear the pain in his voice, see it in those eyes I knew how to read so well. I could’ve told him this pain of separation he felt was because I represented the only constant in his whole life. I could have told him it’s not his fault that he fell through loophole after loophole, that entire systems failed him, and that I had worked very strategically to make him mine. 

“Absolutely nothing,” I answered his question. 

He made a sound in the back of his throat, part choked disgust and part whimper. 

“You didn’t come here just to fight with me, did you?”

He shook his head, defeated as he’d eventually been at the coffee shop. “No.”

“I know, honey. Let me pour you another drink.”

I went to him, taking the glass out of his grip, limp as a corpse. 

Instead of bringing it back to him when I poured him another, I brought it to my chair and set it on the small table. He looked up. 

“Come. Sit with me.”

“What?”

“I thought maybe you came here so we could have some privacy. I thought maybe you’d let me hold you. Even just for a minute.”

I watched his breath catch. He’d nearly flinched at the word hold.

“I’m too big.”

“Hardly. You’re tall, but you’re still light. I may be a little greyer around the temples, but I’m as strong as I was four years ago. I held you then.”

For a moment I could tell he wanted to refuse. But we both knew I had him. Only I could give him what he needed from me, and I had offered it so freely. 

Slowly, he unfolded his legs and placed them on the carpet. He padded over to me in his stocking feet, avoiding my eyes. 

“That’s it. C’mere, Lo,” I coaxed as he found a way to climb in the armchair with me, mostly in my lap, with his arms around my neck and his feet tucked into the side. I held him, bringing his head down to my shoulder and petting his hair, the back of his neck. He moaned in relief, or pain, or perhaps both. He tucked his face tighter to my shoulder. 

“There you are,” I murmured, marveling at the unlikely fact I had my arms full of him again. “You’re okay.”

He smelled like someone else’s shampoo, someone else’s clothes now. But he was still mine, underneath. 

“Lo,” I said, pressing a kiss to his dark hair. “You were always my very favorite thing. From that first day. Even now.”

15. Then Say Shibboleth

December 2022 

Carlo came by my house again. He called me yesterday and left a voicemail asking if I was busy, if I was home. I missed the call and replied to him with a text. 

Home at 19:00. Come anytime. 

He said he’d already eaten but accepted an Irish coffee when I offered twice. I wondered what he wanted. To talk? To crawl in my lap again?

The few staff I keep for household matters were gone for the holiday week. We were alone in the house. He joined me in the living room, on the sofa. I put on the local news just for the chatter and took his bare feet in my lap, rubbing my thumb slowly up the arch of his foot. He tensed and then eased, allowing the small intimacy.

”So do you still run O&H?” he asked. “After…”

”After an arms dealing conviction and a slap on the wrist by the IRS? I do. Just not on paper. It’s worked out in my favor, actually, Martin has to run all the meetings now.”

”Do you still do the other stuff?”

”Are you wearing a wire?”

He looked at me with wide eyes until he saw my face. He laughed. “I guess you wouldn’t tell me, anyway.”

”No. But I’m not. I got what I had coming, and I have no interest in going back to prison. They’ll be watching me, now.”

He seemed to be working up to something when he finally said— “Can I ask you something?” 

“Mm.”

“Why me?”

“Why you when?” I countered.

“Back then. You don’t do much on impulse. But you took me home with you that night having only seen me for an hour. I’ve been thinking about it lately. More than I want to.”

“I wasn’t looking, per se.” The news detailed a gruesome crash on the interstate, still being cleaned up hours later and diverting traffic for the better part of the evening. “But I saw you. And I wanted you.”

“But why? I was eleven. You didn’t want me for that. I know that. You never touched me. So why?” 

“Why indeed?” I squeezed the ball of his foot, then returned both thumbs to knead his arch.  “Your master was a drunk, and a gambler. Hadn’t had you long, which I sensed even before he told me. He was looking to use you for a bet. He probably had already bet and lost his house. 

“You were so well behaved. And more than that, you carried yourself in a certain way. You can’t always train that into someone. You were… well bred. And you were being so brave, even though you were smart enough to also be afraid. You locked eyes with me for a moment. I knew that man would eventually lose the bets he took, probably that night. You were five years too young to even be a pet, if you ask me. But there you were, already in it. 

“As beautiful as you were, I knew you’d be passed around over the next ten years or so, more than likely from one incompetent or sadistic keeper to another. Used. Exploited. Destroyed. I would tell you I felt protective, but maybe that’s giving myself too much credit. Possessive, maybe. Certainly irritated that a pet of your caliber was with this sloppy, stupid man. I wanted you. I knew if I hesitated, I’d never find you again. The world would simply swallow you up. So I propositioned him. And I won. As a consolation, I offered to pay the thirty percent federal tax for the official sale. He accepted, of course.”

“Federal tax?”

“Oh yes,” I smiled, looking away from the television screen over at him. “They always take their cut.”

“So why don’t people just do it under the table?”

“They do, as they always have. But they will lack paperwork. And it’s illegal. If I’d done it that way, and the IRS ever found out, it’d be back to a state home for you, provided you were still a minor.”

“And if I was already eighteen?”

I pulled his other foot closer and dug my thumbs into the soft skin of his heel. “Possibly an auction. Possibly one of those… correctional facilities, as they’re called.”

He paled. He’d never known the specifics of the sale, or the fact that if I simply felt like evading a tax that night he’d have been a hair's breadth away from ending up in one of those places. 

“I wouldn’t have done that to you,” I said gently. “It was all above board.”

“So…it was just because I was well behaved? And young?”

“Too young,” I corrected. “And brave. And beautiful. And afraid.”

”I know you’ve seen plenty of other beautiful and afraid pets before. You don’t lift a finger to help them.”

”I’m not a philanthropist,” I shrugged. “Not all suffering moves me. You didn’t belong in that kind of suffering. I’m not saying anyone deserves it, but rather that an attempt to elevate them from it would do nothing. ‘It is partly his taste, and not his misfortune’,” I quoted. “From the moment your eyes met mine I knew I was taking you home with me. That you would always be mine.”

“Yours,” he echoed emptily. “Is that why I feel the way I do?”

“I can’t answer that for you.”

“I still feel like someone’s.” he admitted. “Yours. You could've freed me when I turned eighteen. I wouldn't have gone anywhere. It was in your power. You knew how to do it."

I pressed a little harder into his arch and he whimpered, but flexed his foot to give me better access. "I suppose," I said. I had no intention of doing any such thing, but I might've, with time. 

"So why didn't you, if you're so magnanimous now?"

"Who's to say I wouldn't've, if I'd had more time? If it wasn't for the trial and my sentence? You have the FBI to thank for that."

He gave up that line of questioning.

“Even though I know I’m a… regular citizen, I guess. And even though I have a pretty normal life. Considering. I can’t shake it.”

“Do you want to?” I asked. “I ask nothing of you now, Lo. Nothing between us is contractual any longer. You visit me when you want. You leave when you want. You tell Max and your lover whatever you want.”

He was silent. He hadn’t wanted to tell me about them. 

“A girl?” I asked. 

“No.”

“Ah. Someone your own age?”

“Yes.”

“Is he good to you?”

Carlo laid the side of his head on the back of my sofa. “Yes. Very.”

“Good.”

I was letting him off the hook, but he gave me more. 

“We met in class. He doesn’t know.”

“About you?”

Carlo nodded. “Isn’t that an awful secret to keep?”

I shrugged, massaging his lower calf. “It’s your secret. It’s not got much to do with him.”

“It feels rotten. To keep it.”

“What would he do if you told him, do you think?”

Carlo shrugged. He looked forlorn. “I don’t know. You like think you know, but you never really do. It might freak him out. It might make him… pity me.” He lowered his voice to a mumble. “Maybe he’d even be disgusted by me.”

“I doubt that,” I said, telling him what I knew he wanted to hear. “I think your first instinct is likely the right one. You have always been an excellent judge of character.”

He huffed. “When?”

“Martin. Keith. The man who owned that boat, down in Florida. Remember? You know more than you think you do.”

“You’re just flattering me.”

I smiled. “Then learn to take a compliment. Tell me. Did Max ever mention the journals I sent him?”

“What journals?”

“I sent him two notebooks a month or so after you went to him. Late November, I believe it was. They had entries dating back to 2011.”

He pulled his foot sharply out of my hands. “About what?”

I tilted my head. “About you, of course.”

He paled visibly, mouth parting in disbelief. I could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. “… what kinds of things?”

“Instances. Notable events.”

“What instances?” 

“Behavior. Conversations we had. Your broken finger, for instance. Some of our trips. When you refused to eat, periodically, as a teenager.” I’d touched a nerve. I thought I might. “Why?”

He groaned as if pained. 

“He never told you then. I apologize. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything either.”

A long moment passed where neither of us spoke. 

“I let Max think you did that to me,” he said finally. “He..assumed, at the very beginning, that you’d starved me, or whatever. Going along with it was just easier than…” he made an empty gesture with his hands. “ Explaining. So I never did.” He squeezed his eyes shut, digging the heels of his palms into them. “God,” he moaned. “He knew I was lying. He knew.”

“I see,” I said, pretending to be disturbed and even remorseful. “He never let on?”

Carlo shook his head. He sounded close to tears. “God. I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“It was only natural. Max wouldn’t understand. How could he? He wasn’t there.”

He gave me a dirty look.

I made a mental note not to be as obvious in my digs on Max. 

“I didn’t know for sure what kind of man he was,” I said softly. “But I know Stella Abend. And I knew his father, Samuel. I thought a little context might help Max Svenson take better care of you. That’s all.”

Carlo barked a cynical laugh. He sobered as he thought of something else. “The belt?” he whispered, dreading the answer. 

“I believe I made note of it, at the time.”

He groaned, hiding his face in his hands. 

“That’s nothing unusual. Nothing he wouldn’t have already assumed. Carlo. You’re reacting very strongly to this.”

“No shit,” he hissed, narrowing his newly bloodshot eyes. “Nothing in my whole life I thought was private ever was with you.”

“Mind the way you’re speaking to me, child.”

I thought he might storm out at that. He only deflated. It was the first time in years I had cooled my tone with him to something akin to chilly. He swiped at his eyes. “I’m just embarrassed,” he admitted. “It’s embarrassing.”

“The fact he never brought it up to you means it didn’t matter much to him what was in those entries. He cares about you, Carlo. And so do I.”

He shook his head. “What does that mean?” 

I sighed. “It means that I’m glad you’re here. Even if we sometimes talk about things that are less than pleasant. If that’s something I can offer you that you want— that you need— I’m happy to do it.”

”I was always afraid of you,” he said as if to himself. “Even though you made sure you were always very… measured, with me. Even though you told me not to be afraid from the very first night.”

”Then why?”

He shrugged a shoulder towards his ear. He looked past me with unfocused eyes at a Matisse print on the far wall. “Your presence. The way people are afraid of you, even if they are friendly to your face. Keith, and the men. The way people spoke about you. Or didn’t. The things I saw you do. Like that informant, that time. All of it.”

”Did you feel this way with Max?”

”No. He tried much harder not to let me. And he doesn’t… inhabit the world you do.”

I was quiet for a moment. Carlo glanced at my face to see if I might be angry. 

“You were always special, Carlo,” I said when I spoke again. “My only pet. My trouble, my treasure. If I ever let you doubt that, I apologize.”

Carlo said nothing. He was tired of talking. He wanted the other thing he comes here for.

He crossed the span of sofa between us, lying his torso in my lap. He hid his face in my chest and I held him, stroked his hair with a slow, steady hand.  I can’t help but wonder; when he leaves me, does he go home and climb into your arms like this, Max?

Next

[hrtsmom]

The door behind me creaked, and the light of a small lantern appeared. Fenik’s face was pinched with concern as he stepped out and closed the door again. “Why aren’t you asleep?” he asked.

“Visions. Dreams. You know, Kahri told me once that maybe someone in the elven country could teach me to deal with the strong visions I had. I never even had the chance to find out if that was possible.”

He came to stand beside me. “Was it your visions that made you think Kahri and the others were in danger?”

I nodded. “Something evil is coming. I’ve seen a hint of it, but I don’t know exactly what it is. All I know is it will destroy us all. It will destroy the world, if we can’t find a way to fight it.”

My voice broke on the last words, and I felt myself trembling. Fenik put his free arm around my shoulders. “I wish I was going with you. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

“You have too many other responsibilities now. Kahri left me. I know it would be hard for Dalia if you left her now. And the villagers depend on you. Things have changed.”

“Our lives have changed,” he agreed softly. “Zania, whatever else happens, always remember I love you still. I have almost from the moment we met.” I started to protest, surprised, but he went on. “No, don’t say anything. I know we’re both happier with the way things are. I just wanted you to know.”

I turned to embrace him. “I already know, Fenik. Thank you.”

He held me tightly for a moment, then stepped back. “Everything will work out for the best,” he said, sounding a little uncertain nevertheless. “If anyone can get him back, you can.”

“I only hope it’s not too late.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you? I mean, if something had happened to Kahri?”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure anymore. I haven’t been able to contact him since he left the camp. I can’t feel any trace of him. And now I’m afraid he’s been hidden from me.” It was a terrifying thought, but I was beyond tears now. I couldn’t give in to feelings of vulnerability.

“Don’t worry too much, Zania. You’re strong enough to do what you have to.” He smiled. “That child is lucky to have you for its mother.”

“I hope she’ll think so too.” The statement surprised me even as I made it. I wondered why I would doubt my daughter’s feelings for me. Perhaps it was only part of the fear still lurking in the back of my mind.

Fenik took my hand. “Don’t worry,” he said again. “Let’s go inside. It’s too cold out here for you.”

I nodded, letting him lead me toward the door. But I knew I would not sleep well this night. Too many shadows had arisen now. Only the light of day would be able to push them back.

In the morning, even before we had eaten, I had Fenik take me to Kenas and Jollan in his barn. When he let them out of their pen, I had to crouch down to their level, to keep them from knocking me over in their excitement. In their own way, with their animal thoughts, they tried to tell me of their confusion, their fear, and their pleasure at seeing me again. Kahri was in their minds, and Risch and Lune, but there were others too, whom they neither knew nor liked. And there were memories of the battle here in the village, the fight they couldn’t understand and hadn’t taken part in.

I only wished the images I saw in their minds were more coherent, so I might know more of what had happened. But animals lived moment to moment. Their memories were more likely to be of physical sensations and emotions, and of their own responses to whatever situations they found themselves in. They couldn’t answer the questions I needed to ask. Nevertheless, I was pleased we would have their company during the journey.

The villagers were beginning to stir as my friends and I ate our breakfast, but nobody came near Fenik’s house. This might have been due to Kenas and Jollan lying outside the door, waiting patiently for us. But I had the feeling the villagers mostly wanted us to be gone. Like the rest of us, they were afraid, of something they couldn’t understand. The less time my friends and I spent in the village, the less they would have to face that fear.

[singularattitudeofasafetypin]

How You Get the Girl

Masterlist

Summary: Eddie's had a crush on Reader forever but doesn't know where to start when talking to her. Luckily for him, she has the perfect advice and he's in just the right place to overhear it!

Word Count: 3.8K ish

Warnings: none really. Spoilers for Star Wars original trilogy and my maybe controversial Star Wars opinions.

A/N: This isn't based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name, but I've recently listened to 1989 for the first time and it's my entire personality now! Listened to it a lot while writing and it's too good of a title not to steal for this! I had lots of fun with this idea, I hope you enjoy reading!

Please don't copy my work

'I just don't get it!'

It was a quiet afternoon in the middle of Autumn. A few solitary customers meandered between the shelves, but Family Video was almost deserted. You stood behind the counter, arms folded, while you endeavoured to solve the enigma of why you best friend couldn’t get a girl.

‘Is your hair not cool enough or something?’

Steve scoffed. ‘Look, it’s not about the hair!’ He mirrored your stance.

Despite your friendship, you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. In high school, girls would have given anything just to be seen with him. Maybe he’d lost his touch? Maybe high school just didn’t matter after all? Either way, King Steve had lost his crown.

‘What’s it about then?’ you relented, seeing his face drop in defeat, ‘How’d you get the girl?’

He stuttered, struggling to condense his elaborate, and frankly shoddy, wooing methods into coherent sentences while you watched him flounder.

In truth, he was different now. Steve wasn’t looking for some meaningless hook-up anymore. He wanted something deeper. Something built to last,

And that was a whole different ballgame.

Unseen between the shelves, Eddie Munson smirked. He wasn’t pretending to browse the selection of tapes he told himself, he just couldn’t help but listen to the two of you go back and forth.

Especially you!

Your voice was music to his ears. He could hardly decipher the words so it wasn’t technically eavesdropping! The melody alone was enough to overpower him.

Eddie had been crushing on you hard for almost three years now. You’d been friends of friends for a while, hanging out in the same group with Steve, Nancy, Robin, and usually Dustin Henderson.

He’d almost asked you out a thousand times but something always make him chicken out. It was ridiculous really; flirting was something that had always come easy to him. Poetry and showmanship were his weapons of choice but something short-circuited in his brain whenever he tried to talk to you. The words stuck in his throat.

You scared him, okay? You were classy and confident, so sure of yourself. You were never ever afraid to speak your mind and you didn’t care what anyone thought of you!

Kind of like him, he thought. Except he did care. Eddie really cared what you thought of him!

‘You’ve got to be joking!’ your disbelieving tone cut through the clouds of his thoughts.

‘What?’ Steve retorted.

You shook your head hopelessly, ‘Act like you don’t care?’ you mimicked, adding sarcastic air quotes, ‘Wait for the… ‘electricity’? No wonder you aren’t getting any girls!’

He threw his hands up in surrender, ‘Well you’re a girl!’

‘Yes, well spotted Harrington!’

‘Go on then, tell me what to do!’ he contested, leaning back on the counter, ‘What makes you see a future with someone? What makes you want to go out with someone, and stay with them?’

Eddie’s ears pricked up. He couldn’t help it.

You agonised, ‘You’ve got to care Steve! You’ve gotta make her feel wanted! Remember the little things about her, compliment her! Not just quietly but when other people can hear!’

Eddie rummaged in his bag for a pen and paper. He couldn’t believe his luck! After years of not knowing where to start to show you how much you meant to him, here you were, unknowingly giving him a step-by-step guide! Tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, he started scrawling madly across the page as you spoke.

‘Ask her about her interests and listen to her! I mean really listen!’

Easy!

‘Get her flowers! Show that you’re thinking about her!’

Eddie never stopped thinking about you.

‘Invite her to spend time together doing things you both enjoy!’

Piece of cake! (Ignoring all the times he’s failed to do just that!)

‘Be honest about your feelings for her!’

Now hold up. His pen froze, hovering in mid-air. If talking was an Olympic sport, Eddie would win gold but he’s never been great at talking about how he felt. Not that he didn’t have feelings, he supposed he just had too many.

‘That’s so much work!’ Steve whined and you laughed. The sound refocussed Eddie’s despondent mind.

‘True love takes work, Harrington! You’re not some fairytale princess!’

The conversation went on in the background but he didn’t hear the rest. You were right. If he wanted this, wanted you, he was going to have to work for it! No more backing down! No more shying away! No more running!

‘You okay over there, Munson?’

Eddie snapped out of his trance, nearly knocking the shelves over. ‘Yeah!’ he choked, resolve shattering. He stuffed his paper and pen away and grabbed the nearest movie, stumbling over to the desk and your smiling face. Incapable of looking you in the eye, he shoved the tape onto the counter. ‘Please don’t be anything weird!’ he prayed to no one in particular as you turned it over.

Your customer service smile split into a real one, ‘Oh no way! I love Star Wars!’

‘I-uh-,’

‘Say something Eddie!’ he thought furiously, shifting his feet and wishing the ground would swallow him whole, ‘Yeah… I thought it was about time I got round to watching them!’ he managed.

‘You’ve never seen them?’ your face morphed into shock then mock offence, ‘But they’re the best!’

His mouth moved but nothing came out. ‘Ask about things she’s passionate about!’ a small voice whispered in his mind.

‘Which… one’s your favourite?’

‘Oh, I don’t know!’ you rested your elbows on the counter, head in hands and thinking hard. Eddie stuck his hands in his pockets so you wouldn’t see them shaking. You really were breath taking. The way you frowned slightly, the way your eyes narrowed and lips pressed together like this was the most important decision in the world. It made him giddy.

‘Everyone says Empire’s the best,’ you said slowly, ‘But I think Jedi’s my favourite! You just can’t beat the ending!’

‘Is that the one with the teddy bears?’ Steve chimed from the back room, giving Eddie time to pick his gaping jaw off the floor.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly turning over your shoulder, ‘Yes, well done Steve! For the last time, they’re called Ewoks!’

Eddie couldn’t help laughing. You shook your head with a smile, ‘You’ll have to tell me what you think of them!’

‘Yeah!’ he choked, ‘Absolutely!’ His head was reeling from what must be the longest conversation he’d ever had with you.

‘Well, I’ll see you round, Munson!’

‘Yeah… yeah!’ he grabbed the tape from between you, turned heel and hurried out of the store grinning like an idiot. Step one complete! Gone, were the days of wistfully hoping you’d take notice of him! Now he had a battle plan and this film was his way in!

If he’d turned around, he’d have seen the small smile spread its way over your mouth. Steve poked his head out of the back room and wiggled his eyebrows. You moved to shove him and he ducked out of the way, a grin of his own stretching his face.

***

Sharp Autumn wind made you hug your cardigan closer. Leaves crunched and puddles splashed underfoot as you trekked the familiar streets to work, your favourite song blaring in your headphone

‘Hey! Hey, wait up!’

Fumbling with your headphones, you twisted round. Barrelling toward you was Eddie, his tongue poking out as he tried to balance two takeaway cups in his hands while running at breakneck speed.

You couldn’t help but smile.

He skidded to a halt in front of you panting wildly. ‘Here!’ he thrust one of them out at you and you took it. The cup warmed your cold fingers and your name was scribbled on the lid in black sharpie.

‘What’s this?’ you asked as he slurped his own.

‘Hot Chocolate,’ he answered, ‘You like that, right?’

‘Yeah…’ a sigh of laughter passed your lips, ‘I meant what for?’

Eddie just shrugged, ‘You mind if I walk with you?’

‘I’m on the way to work.’

‘I know, I’m headed there too!’

You started walking and he fell into step beside you. After a long sip of hot chocolate that warmed you right down to your toes you spoke. ‘Did you watch the movie?’ He nodded excitedly. ‘And?’

Eddie pretended to think for a second, ‘Uh and it’s amazing!’ He meant it too! The movie had blown him away, had him on the edge of his seat the whole time. He couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to see it!

But even if that wasn’t true, even if it had been the most boring movie he’d ever experienced, he’d watch it over and over just to see the light that shone in your eyes when you talked about it.

‘Sorry, I’m probably being really annoying!’ You caught yourself in the middle of a tangent.

‘No!’ He couldn’t reply fast enough, ‘I love hearing you talk!’

‘Really?’ the words made your heart skip a beat. Privately, you’d never been sure about Eddie. Sure, you’d hung out before in groups but whenever you’d tried to talk to him, he always seemed to shrug you off. From his short, usually monosyllabic answers, you’d just assumed he found you irritating. Disappointing, because you might have harboured a bit of a crush but there was no point pursuing someone who clearly wasn’t interested.

Yet all of that seemed to have changed. Now, he was trailing after you to work, listening to you babble on about some sci-fi movie and hanging onto your every word. It was nice. Really nice!

From there you talked about everything. He asked about your music taste and hesitantly shared his own. You found out he played guitar in a band and made him promise to tell you when his next gig was so you could come and see.

The video store approached. He stepped in front, opening the door then letting you go first.

‘You after Empire then?’ you asked, taking off your hat and scarf and hanging them in the backroom.

Eddie nodded, ‘This is the one that everyone says is the best, right?’

‘Yeah,’ ducking under the counter, you searched for the tape, ‘It is really awesome! There’s lots of surprises!’ He noted the knowing look in your eye. At last, you found it, holding it out with a smile, ‘Enjoy!’

Your hands touched a bit more than maybe they needed to as he took the video.

‘I’ll be back!’ he promised, tucking it in his bag and scooping up your empty cup for the bin.

***

First thing the next morning, Eddie crashed through the doors yelling at the top of his lungs. ‘What the hell?’

You jumped out of your skin and so did the customer you were serving. Your face split into a smile. You hurried the transaction but Eddie was still hollering, gesturing wildly with both hands. ‘You never told me Darth Vader is Luke’s fa-! ‘

‘Eddie!’ you cut him off, barely able to control your laughter, ‘Spoilers!’

The rest of the store suddenly solidified. Everyone was staring, some shaking their heads in disapproval.

‘Sorry!’ he winced. Tiptoeing up to the desk he leant in, comically close, ‘You didn’t tell me he was Luke’s father!’ he repeated in a stage-whisper.

‘I know!’ you giggled, matching his theatrical tone, ‘What did you think?’

‘It was amazing! I honestly don’t know how anything’s gonna top that!’

You grinned, ‘Well you’ll have to wait and see! You want the next one right away? I put it aside for you!’

‘You did?’

‘Course I did!’ Without waiting for an answer, you slipped away into the back to find it. Eddie took a shaky breath, missing the closeness. Anxiety twisted in his stomach.

‘Come on, Munson!’ he chided himself. ‘It’s now or never!’ He fiddled with his rings, wrists resting on the counter.

It didn’t take you long to come back, holding the video case aloft in ceremonial fashion. ‘Here ya go! The thrilling conclusion!’ setting it down. He managed a grim smile. ‘You gotta come by tomorrow and tell me what you thought!’

A lump stuck in his throat and he grimaced, ‘Oh well… I uh… I was wondering-,’

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah!’ he chuckled awkwardly. This was going great! ‘I was just wondering if… if you maybe wanted to watch it… with me?’

That was it! The words were out in the open now, he had no way to recall them!

The invitation took you by surprise, eyes widened and a small ‘Oh.’ Was all you could manage before he rambled on. Words, previously impossible, now wouldn’t stop.

‘I mean just because you said it’s your favourite! I was thinking we could get pizza or something! I dunno. We don’t have to, I know we haven’t really talked much before but I just thought-,’

‘I’d love to!’

‘-it would be really cool to maybe-!’ he stopped, it took a second to hear that you’d spoken and longer still to process your response. ‘Wait what?’

You smiled and repeated yourself.

He was gobsmacked. Was this real? He never thought he’d get this far!

‘Right! Yeah, cool!’ the words stuck again, ‘I’ll uh… I’ll see you at six, right? …At mine.’

‘Sounds great!’

Somehow, he made it out of the store, clutching the video in both hands. He waited ‘til he was out of sight behind his van before punching the air. Finally! After years of failed attempts, he did it! The drive home was a haze; it was a miracle he made it back in one piece.

At some point he must have ordered pizza because some kid in a yellow shirt showed up at his door at a few minutes to six. All afternoon he’d been floating on air. Now he was freaking out.

What if he messed something up? What if he said something weird? What if you changed your mind and didn’t show?

What if? What if? What if?

***

You arrived a few minutes before he’d said to, giving yourself time to figure out where to park and glance at yourself in the rear-view mirror.

Steve and Robin had teased you relentlessly for dressing up. Claims you categorically denied, of course!

Sure, you’d made an effort. A light dusting of makeup made it look less like you’d worked the late shift for the third night in a row the day before and you just liked the way your favourite sweater made your eye colour a bit more vibrant. That didn’t mean anything! Besides, it wasn’t like he meant anything by it! It was just a movie! Pizza and a movie!

So why were you nervous?

He opened the door almost immediately after you knocked, ushering you inside from the fast-falling dusk. His trailer was cosy and inviting; from all reports, you guessed he must have tidied up significantly. The lamplight enveloped you in a warm glow and the intoxicating smell of pizza made your tummy rumble.

‘You still like pepperoni, right?’ he asked, opening the box, releasing a plume of steam into the air.

‘Yeah,’ you breathed in the scent, ‘How did you know that?’

He looked at the floor suddenly embarrassed, ‘I uh… remember that one time in eighth grade when we had that pizza party? I remembered you were sad because they didn’t have pepperoni.’ He looked up, assessing your response before backtracking hastily, ‘I’m sorry that’s so weird!’

‘No, no, it’s amazing!’ shaking your head and picking out a particularly cheesy slice, ‘The only thing I remember from middle school are those crazy outfits you and your band wore for the talent show!’

‘You remember that?’ He grinned at the memory, ‘Super metal, right?’

After loading a plate each with pizza slices, he slipped the movie into the player and settled next to you on the couch. For a while you didn’t speak much, eating and absorbed by the movie. That was until Obi-Wan’s ghost revealed that-

‘Leia is Luke’s sister?’ Eddie shot up, knocking his empty plate to the floor.

You giggled at his outburst, ‘I know!’

‘How many more reveals are there going to be? Hey! And they-,’ he wrinkled his nose in disgust. You could see a specific scene from the last movie replaying in his mind.

‘I know! It’s so gross!’

‘I don’t believe this!’ he sat back down, ‘I’m never going to recover! Never!’

You elbowed him, ‘Watch the damn move, Munson!’

Was it your imagination, or did his breathing hitch. You’d scooched much closer than before, practically laying your head on his shoulder. Was he uncomfortable? Were you too forward? Your worries were put to rest when he draped his arm around you, slow and tentative, as if giving you a chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

The rest of the movie passed by in comfortable quiet, interspersed with Eddie asking excited questions and you berating him to be patient! You couldn’t stop yourself giving the odd bit of trivia or behind the scenes insight and to your delight, he actually seemed to care!

Eventually the credits rolled. He didn’t move right away so you wriggled to look up at him. He was starstruck, open mouthed, and more than a little misty eyed.

‘So?’ you asked cautiously.

His eyes switched from the screen to yours, forming a breathless smile. ‘That was amazing!’ You laughed. ‘I mean it!’ he said, ‘It was so epic! That final duel on the Death Star was just… and Anakin’s death? Wow! And the ghosts at the end? You were totally right about the ending being the coolest thing ever!’

You laughed with him. The mile wide grin on his face lit up his eyes like a thousand stars, sending butterflies whirling in your stomach. He felt like a different person. Secretly, you’d worried he wouldn’t enjoy it, that he’d think it was silly or it just wouldn’t be his thing but he gave you no doubt! His enthusiasm was the most genuine of anybody’s you’d ever seen and you realised then, you’d give anything to see it again and again.

Eddie started to clear away the plates and pizza box. While you helped, a question kept gnawing at you. A question you were almost afraid of the answer to.

‘Why are you doing this?’ you asked, stopping before you stooped put your shoes back on. He froze like you’d caught him doing something wrong.

‘Doing what?’ his voice failed to imitate nonchalance.

‘Being… nice to me all of a sudden.’ It was the only way you could describe it. He really seemed to care, to actually want to hear your opinions, share your joy.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ he continued clearing up but he hid his face behind his hair.

‘You’re a terrible liar!’ you moved closer and saw his shoulders tense, ‘Tell the truth!’

He didn’t speak. All the light from before extinguished, something closed him off again. Maybe you’d crossed a line? Said something wrong?

‘You know, you aren’t as mean and scary as I thought you were,’ you tried gently, anxious to get the other Eddie back. He smiled a bit, though still not looking at you.

‘Neither are you!’

‘You thought I was mean and scary?’

‘Not mean!’ he clarified, ‘But scary as hell!’

You couldn’t help but laugh and a small chuckle escaped his chest. ‘Why?’

‘Because!’ he gestured at nothing in particular, ‘Because you’re you and you’re so sure of yourself and you don’t care what anyone thinks! And…’ he stopped.

‘And?’ you asked when he didn’t continue. He didn’t want to tell you, not yet. He was only just getting started! There were still so many things he had left to do before…

‘Be honest with her about your feelings!’ wheedled his brain. It was a struggle but he forced himself to meet your eye. Looking like a man about to risk it all, he wet his lips and took a steady breath.

‘And…’ he continued, voice low, ‘I’ve had a massive crush on you since… forever!’

Oh!

The words hung in the silence between you. They echoed in your head and in your heart.

Before you could respond, he tore on, ‘And I never knew how to talk to you before because I was scared that you’d… I don’t know… laugh at me or something? Because I know, I’m a colossal disaster and I don’t know how to say romantic things or anything when I’m around you!’ He stopped to draw breath.

‘What changed?’ you cut in, still trying to process his confession. All this time you’d worried he didn’t like you and now he told you he felt all that?

Eddie hung his head. He raised a hand to his neck, rubbing furiously as a flush rose in his cheeks. ‘Um… You remember like a month ago? You were talking to Harrington about why he couldn’t make a relationship work?’

‘Yeah?’ the interaction seemed so small, so inconsequential.

‘Well… I might have been listening and I wrote down all your advice and planned to use it on you!’

His nose scrunched; shoulders tensed. At last, everything was laid out on the line. All he could do was wait for your response.

Worst case scenarios, none of them remotely in character, fired through his mind. You being super weirded out and never wanting to talk to him again. Laughing in his face and telling everyone you knew that the big scary metalhead was a hopeless romantic sap in disguise.

To his surprise, you reached up and cupped his face in your hand, rose on your tiptoes, and kissed his cheek.

He looked down at you, eyes wide. You held his gaze. He hardly dared hope.

‘I guess I give really good dating advice!’ you murmured.

He breathed out slowly, and a bright shining smile graced your lips. ‘Yeah?’

You nodded. ‘You should tell Steve it worked! Maybe then he’ll listen to me!’ Eddie let out a laugh, relief washing over him.

Your eyes found each other’s again. For a moment you just stood there, admiring his features up close. The faint brush of freckles over his nose, his slow, steady breath that moved his chest up and down, the way his eyes widened when he looked at you. Like they were seeing the whole world at once. You noticed them flicker to your lips and your heart fluttered.

‘Do you want to kiss me?’ your voice was quiet but earnest.

He blushed at the question, then, almost imperceptibly nodded. You smiled, moving ever closer, until you were practically nose to nose.

‘Go on then!’

***

Thank you so much for reading! Feedback and reblogs are so incredibly appreciated! It makes me all warm and fuzzy when I hear that you enjoyed a story I wrote! Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything else I write!

Tags: @sadbitchfangirl

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𝙄𝙣 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙀𝙮𝙚𝙨

ᴺᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ: ᵂⁱˡᵈᵉˢᵗ ᴰʳᵉᵃᵐˢ⁻⁻ᵀᵃʸˡᵒʳ ˢʷⁱᶠᵗ ↺ ᴿᴱᴾᴱᴬᵀ ‖ ᴾᴬᵁˢᴱ ≫ ᴺᴱˣᵀ ˢᴼᴺᴳ

ᵂᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: 0.6k

You’ve always liked Yae Miko. Meticulous, cunning Yae Miko. That was how other people saw her, at least. Owner of the Yae Publishing House, and closest acquaintance of the ruler of Inazuma.

But you were one of the few people who got to see the softer side of her. The side of her who would let you lie in her lap and softly read a light novel to you, smooth voice gently lulling you into a comfortable slumber. 

For years, you have been subtly pining over her, these romantic feelings locked deep inside your heart, guarded by thorns, in fear of the kitsune turning you down. Although some of her actions aren’t how you would treat someone who was just a friend, you didn't want to risk your many decades of friendship just for some personal feelings.  

“___! There you are!” You recognised the voice of the Crux Captain, Beidou. Alongside her was the Leader of Watatsumi island, Sangonomiya Kokomi. “To whom do I owe this pleasure?” You replied, usually not seeing the unusual pair side by side. “One of the restaurants in the city has a discount on alcohol after 7 in the evening today, and I thought it would be appropriate to invite the both of you.” Kokomi explained. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to hang out with your friends, you accepted the invitation without hesitation. 

As soon as you entered the restaurant, your eyes scanned the vicinity for your friends. And there they were, Beidou and Kokomi happily drinking away and ordering more drinks.  “___! Come have a seat!” You smiled, knowing either Beidou was going to challenge you to a drinking competition, which you usually turned down, or you had to carry Kokomi (a surprising lightweight) home. All three of you chatted for a while, until Beidou said, “Hey, ___, you know that there are a lot of people in Inazuma that fancy you, right?” This unexpected question made you flustered, not knowing how to respond to that question. “So has anyone caught your eye, perhaps?”

The image of the stunning shrine maiden immediately flashed in your mind, causing your face to turn so red you couldn’t blame it on the alcohol anymore. And being so tipsy, you answered without thinking. “You know Yae Miko, right? I’ve had a crush on her for a very long time…” Swirling your drink in your hand, you continued, “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me back though, but I don’t know how to act around her. She’s so gorgeous and affectionately a tease, she could crush me under her shoe and I’d thank her.” 

Unbeknownst to you, the exact person you were talking about walked right into the restaurant. You think Benett was unlucky? Well, look at you. “Miss Kokomi, there’s something I need to discuss with you about your upcoming light n-” “I’d kill someone just to feel her soft pink hair in my hands just one more time.” You whipped your head around, praying that this was just the drinks making your sense of reality distorted. But when your friends looked at you with wide eyes and you heard her speak again, you wanted to sink into the ground and die. Suddenly you were very interested in the melting cubes of ice in your glass, when Yae said, “Maybe we can discuss your light novel another time. I think I need to speak to __ right now, hm?”

With a smile that said “I wish you all the best” from Kokomi, you obediently followed Miko outside. “Oh, so this is how you really felt about me all this time? How adorable.” You said nothing, patiently waiting for the rejection to come so you could finally move on.

"I love you too." Even with the mischievous smile on her face, her cheeks that were flushed red betrayed her. Shocked silent , you stood in front of her, frozen and unable to form a coherent sentence. After what felt like several minutes, you remembered that you were supposed to give a reply. "I... Thank you." Words were conveyed through loving actions as you gently cradle her hand in yours and she gazes at you like you're her entire world. Everything else seemed to fade from your vision when you look into her eyes, seeing endless possibilities of the future.

[oilivia]

"worth the wait" - w/ Gojo

a/n: this ended up much longer than i intended to, but after watching the new JJK op Gojo was the only thing on my mind. no beta and smut after the cut. hope you’ll enjoy it and reblogs are appreciated!

pairing: Gojo x fem reader

tw: teasing, corruption themes, size difference, masturbation, nipple play, knee grinding, multiple orgasms, mindbreak, cum play  

word count: 1.9k

You hate that you can’t hate him. You wish you didn’t find his stupid jokes so funny, or the matter-of-factly way in which he says “I’m the best” so attractive. It would all be much easier for you if you could snicker and roll your eyes at his confidence when he’d say “I know you think about me at night.”

Instead, thinking about him at night is exactly what you do. Hand between your thighs, fingers buried in your hole as you get off to the thought of him on top of you, pumping in and out of your tight cunt. You wonder how he’d react if one day you’d reply to his comment with an ‘Yes’. Would he laugh? Would he tease you? Or maybe you’d finally get to taste his lips, to wrap your fingers around his cock.

“What are you thinking about?” you flinch when you feel a hand on your shoulder. “Is it me?” he whispers in a teasing tone, a shiver running down your spine when his hot breath hits your ear. How much of an asshole can he be sneaking up on you like this? Well, fuck it, you think. What’s the worst that could happen?

“And what if I was, Gojo?” There is a short pause and you internally facepalm, maybe confessing it wasn’t such a good idea. But then he laughs and your eyes dart to him.

“So you’re finally admitting it. Took you long enough.” You don’t even get to say a word before his mouth is on yours. With a hand on the back of your head and one on your waist, he’s pushing you until your back is pressed against the nearest wall. He pries your legs open with a knee, pressing it against your crotch and when you whine, he pulls his tongue from your eager mouth with a smirk. “I thought you’d fight back a bit more. But I guess you find me irresistible, huh?” 

You feel your skin burning at his words and the way he’s rubbing his knee on your pussy with only a couple of thin layers of clothing separating you isn’t helping. “You’re such a jerk,” you retort, but he just chuckles.

“And you’d like it if this jerk railed you right here?” He gathers both your hands and pins them above your head. Your heart is beating faster, the way he’s towering over you driving you crazy, his luscious lips within inches of yours. You want to give in so badly. 

It’s now or never. “Not here,” you whisper, trying to convince yourself as much as him. You’re right in the middle of a hallway at Jujutsu Tech, not the best place to fuck. Not if you don’t plan on finding another job at least. It’s getting harder to hold in your moans the more he’s teasing your covered clit and at this point the spot on his pants that’s pressed on you must be wet as well. 

“Hmm, I’ll indulge you since it’s our first time,” he chuckles and picks you up. A few moments later, he gently throws you on a bed “I brought you to my apartment if you’re so shy, though I’d rather have taken you right against that wall.” You know some things about Gojo’s cursed techniques, but still, it never fails to amaze you just how strong it is. Maybe that’s part of the appeal. That, and the few times you had those otherworldly eyes staring down at you.

You don’t have much time to analyze your motivations, not with the man himself climbing on top of you, jacket thrown next to the bed and shirt half unbuttoned. He is going to make you work for it if you want to see him naked. He enjoys seeing the battle within you between your desire for him and your desire to remain unbothered. It amuses him. It’s always fun, making the cool and collected ones lose themselves with lust. Have them crawl to him on their knees. And he knows just how to do it.

“You look so pretty splayed like that on my bed,” he mutters as he runs his hand up your naked leg, leaving a trail of goosebumps from your calf to your inner thigh. “I think we should take these off, they’re drenched,” he coos, tugging down your panties. You whimper when you feel the cold air hit your drooling slit. His lips are closing in to your ear again “And I’m keeping them - a memento of how much you want me.” He loves watching your expressions when he pushes your buttons. It’s easy with you, you respond so cutely to his teasing, so sensitive, so needy. He can’t wait to see how you’ll squirm when he’s fucking you, how your eyes will roll at the back of your head. 

“Pervert,” you hiss, but he only chuckles at that. Gojo licks the shell of your ear, hand kneading your breasts. A whine escapes you and you feel the corners of his mouth tug into a grin as he’s planting kisses on your jawline - he’s breaking your defenses, slowly but surely. Why would you be resisting him anyways? 

“So you’re into perverts, hmm?” He slips a finger between your wet folds slowly and you moan oh, so prettily for him. “Moaning like this from just a finger, such a cutie. What are you going to do when I put my cock inside you? Good thing the walls aren’t thin.” He pushes in and out of you while he’s lifting your top, planting kisses on your stomach and moving up to your breasts. He frees them from the confine of your bra and latches his mouth on one of your nipples, sucking as he adds a second finger in your cunt. You whine and he relishes the way your walls are sucking in his digits. You’re gonna feel so good wrapped around his cock.

Tingles run through your body. When you do it yourself it doesn't feel nearly as good. But you want more - need more. So when you see him release your nipple with a pop and pull his fingers from your sopping cunt only to stare at you with an impish smile, you can’t help but whine “Gojo, please!”

“Call me Satoru,” he grins “You’re always so formal, even naked on my bed. And please what?”

“Please stop being such a tease and just fuck me already!” Your cheeks are burning up, you can’t believe he’s making you act like such a needy slut. 

“All you had to do was ask,” he chuckles, untying his blindfold “I want you to look at me while I make you cream on my cock.”

Gojo’s eyes are just as mesmerizing as you remember and staring into them feels like taking a plunge off a cliff, just to fall into the sky. You bite your lip, you could be so cheesy sometimes. But you can’t stop looking, barely registering the way he takes your hands and places them on his shirt, unbuttoning it with your own fingers and then moving to undo the clasp of his belt. 

“Just like this,” he coos, pushing you on your back once he’s done making you undress him. Your eyes widen when you see his cock, fully hard and drops of precum leaking from the tip. “You like it?”

“I-I’m not sure it’s going to fit-” 

“We’ll make it fit,” Gojo coaxes, placing your legs on his shoulders and pressing the tip against your entrance. You whine, the way he’s spreading your muscle rim both painful and delicious. Inch by inch he’s stretching your tight walls, your back arching. He’s rubbing against each and every one of your sensitive spots and you’re so close to cumming just by having him enter you. “Oh, look at you, you’re so fucking wet and still so fucking tight.”

He grunts, sheeting himself inside you fully with one deep thrust. He gives you a moment to rest, enjoying the way your walls clench around his length. Gojo had his eyes on you for a while. He saw the way you always hesitated for a second every time he teased you, how you’d fight laughing at his jokes. And how you swayed your hips so alluringly each time you walked away as if spending one more second in his presence would make all your defenses crumble. But he knew it was just a matter of time before you’d fall right into his arms. You were just too cute, too innocent - he had to have you. 

“S-Satoru,” you moan his name when he starts moving again. Each thrust is hard and deep and each of them makes the coil in your abdomen tighten. His hands are on your ass, spreading your cheeks. You cry his name over and over. And he just pounds into you, slamming his hips into yours. He isn’t going to be gentle just because you never had a cock as big. He can’t, he’s not that merciful. You’re just too pretty, how you whine and squirm, how your much smaller body shakes when he touches you, when he fucks into you. Your eyes are glazed over, but you don’t close them, no, you’re looking straight at him. Drool is dripping from the corner of your mouth, and slick is running down your thighs. 

“You’re such a mess. Such a pretty fucking mess,” he smirks and thrusts harder. Your hands grip the sheets. So desperate, so needy. You need to hold onto something to keep you from bursting. But when he leans on you and his lips wrap around your nipples once more - you can’t hold it anymore. The coil snaps as your mind goes blank, your body frantically trying to pull him deeper inside you, squeezing, milking him.

He’s panting as he keeps fucking you through your high. He’s chasing his own release, trying to decide which part of your body he should mark with his cum. Your bouncy tits? Your pretty face? Or maybe he should just finish inside you and watch as it drips from your well-fucked hole. He’s close, so close. And you’re still cumming - is it the second or the third time? It doesn’t matter.

Pulling out of your velvety walls, he strokes his cock while rubbing your clit. He wants to see you squirming for a little while more. His body jerks and with a grunt he sprays his cum all over your stomach and breasts, a few drops landing on your face as you’re cumming again from the pressure on your clit. 

He’d ask you if you’d be able to fuck another man after this, but there was no point. You are so out of it, your walls clenching around nothing and body still shaking - you couldn’t answer him anyway. Gojo will just have to wait until you’re coherent again. He knows you won’t be able to stay away from him anymore, you’ll just be crawling on your hands and knees back to him, begging for his cock. And he’s going to give it to you, he’s going to fuck you in every corner of the school. It seems the wait was worth it.

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