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getitoutofmymindwrites · 2 days

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The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k

Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you. Or The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀

A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on. I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀* As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.

P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy! I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘

P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

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FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.

Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.

Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.

Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.

Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.

The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.

Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.

Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.

It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.

Then you remember.

You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.

This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.

You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.

Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.

But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.

You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.

You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.

There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.

You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.

He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.

Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.

Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.

No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.

“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?

“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.

“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.

Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.

You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.

You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.

“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”

You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.

“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.

Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?

His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-

“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.

“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.

“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.

“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”

You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.

“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.

“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?

And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”

“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”

“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.

You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.

You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn��t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.

It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”

Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.

His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.

“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.

“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”

“You mean about the therapy?”

“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.

He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”

“For what?”

“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.

“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.

“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.

You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.

You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”

“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.

How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.

“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”

“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”

“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.

He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”

“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.

“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”

His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.

“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”

You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”

You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.

Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”

Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.

“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.

“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.

“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.

“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.

“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”

His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”

He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.

It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.

“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.

But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?

“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”

“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.

“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”

“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.

“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”

You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”

“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?

“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.

“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?

Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.

“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,

he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.

“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.

Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.

“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.

“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.

“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.

“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.

You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”

Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.

“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”

Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.

Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”

“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”

Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.

“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.

Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”

“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”

Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”

Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”

“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.

“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”

You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.

“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.

Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.

And you certainly delivered.

He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.

“I can’t do this-”

“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.

“-tonight.”

“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?

But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.

Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.

The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.

You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?

You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-

Can we talk?

Yes.

Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.

That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.

When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.

“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.

“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.

You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?

You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.

“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.

“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.

“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.

“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”

“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.

“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.

“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”

“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.

“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.

“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.

“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”

Joel looks at you perplexed.

“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.

“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”

“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”

“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.

“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.

“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.

“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.

“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.

“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.

“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.

“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.

“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.

“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”

“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.

Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.

You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.

“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.

You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.

It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.

You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.

How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?

Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?

Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?

You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.

You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.

You let him, because you are a weak person.

You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.

You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.

You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.

You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.

And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.

“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”

There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.

You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.

“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”

“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.

You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.

Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.

“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.

“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.

“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.

His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.

“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.

“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.

“Why didn’t you insist?”

Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.

“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.

“I didn’t want you to.”

“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”

You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.

Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.

“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”

“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”

“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”

“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”

“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”

“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?

“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”

“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.

“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”

Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.

“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”

“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”

“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.

“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.

Him.

What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.

“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.

“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you. “Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.

“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”

“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.

“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”

“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”

You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.

“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”

His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.

Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.

“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”

Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”

“What?”

“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.

“Ridiculous..”

“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”

“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”

“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.

“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.

“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.

“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”

“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?

You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.

“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.

“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.

Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.

“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.

“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.

You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”

His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.

You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.

You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.

I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.

His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.

“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”

“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.

“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”

“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”

“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”

“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.

“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”

“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”

Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.

“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”

Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.

Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.

Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.

Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.

You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.

Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.

You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”

He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.

“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.

Oh.

“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

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aphrostarot · 2 days

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A Message From Someone Who Loves You Pick a Pile

As this is a general collective reading, some things may not resonate with you or your situation. DO NOT try forcing it to fit. If you would like to book a personalized reading with me go to my profile and follow the instructions on my pinned post.

If you enjoyed this reading and wanted to support me further you can do so by tipping me in the link in my bio or by booking a personal reading with me.

Pile One:

Who are the people who chose this pile?

Seven of Water, Ace of Air, and The Fool:

You are a very optimistic person at your core. You embody all of the characteristics of a dreamer, someone who never lets the world bring them down. This is not to say that you don’t think things through or are blindly optimistic, actually, you are quite the opposite. You are a very intelligent person who doesn’t make any decisions before you think it through first. You have so many big dreams and can imagine yourself accomplishing almost anything you set your mind on. Nothing can hold you back or make you change your mind when you’ve decided that something will bring you joy. Many people would describe you as someone who is constantly smiling, always happy, and seeing the world for the good not the bad. You know that there is bad in the world, you just choose not to dwell on it.

Who is this person coming forward with a message?

Patience, Nine of Earth, and Page of Earth:

First off, I want to start by saying that for many of you, this person may be someone you knew who passed away. For others, this may be someone in your spiritual team, a deity, an angel, etc. While for some of you, this may be someone who is still in the material realm that you know. This person could be an earth sign (Virgo, Capricorn, or Taurus) or just have a very down-to-earth chill vibe. They may also be someone who is or was very interested in the Earth or space, either as a career or as a hobby.

This person is very practical and ambitious, when they are interested in something they set their mind to it and stop at nothing to complete it. They are very successful and self-sufficient because of their ability to push through all the chaos and keep at it until they see the results they want. You may admire them for their ability to almost always have a practical solution for almost anything that comes their way. They are always growing and looking for ways to grow which is something you may try to emulate.

What is their message to you?

Justice, Four of Fire, Nine of Air, and Six of Air:

You have been struggling with anxieties and fear for quite some time and they see that. They are saying to you that there are people in your life that are making you feel this despair and you need to let go of them. You may be waiting for the right moment to get revenge but, they are telling you that karma will come around no matter what, they will make sure of it, and you don’t need to worry about that. What you need to worry about right now is yourself and the energy you surround yourself with, make sure you are keeping your space and your energy clear of negativity so you can get out of this darkness you’ve been finding yourself in.

Why haven’t you been able to receive this message?

Five of Earth, Eight of Earth, and Strength Reversed:

For those of you who resonated with this person having passed away, you have been stuck in that grief that when you feel their presence trying to get your attention you ignore them because it is too hard for you to address it. This is why you have not been able to receive this message. For the other people that this person is still in the material realm, you have been feeling that loss and grief more towards yourself, and your belief in yourself. Since you have been surrounded by negative people and energy for so long, they have drained you of your energy, making you believe you aren’t worthy which is why you have been so blinded to this message trying to come through. This person has been trying to reach out to you, or maybe even has been telling you this but you have not been aware of it. You’ve been so distracted by the things in your life, maybe a hobby that you’ve been so focused on that when this person is talking to you, you may just brush them off. Or, you hear them trying to tell you that you need to let these people go because they are not good for you and you just don’t think you are strong enough or confident enough to do that or, you don’t want to cause any problems or drama so you stay in these negative relationships.

How can you better receive this message in the future?

Ten of Fire, and Messenger of Earth:

Patience is needed while you work through these messages. You have been in such a dark place and may be unaware of how the people in your life are the ones playing a huge role in why you have been in this darkness so, having this person trying to tell you to let them go comes as a surprise and your first reaction is to get defensive and shut them down. This is why you need patience, you are in such a sensitive state lately that allowing yourself time to process will really help you feel less frazzled and stressed out. It is also worth noting that you need to recognize how much responsibility it is to address the energies you keep in your life and when you start to approach cleansing these energies out of your life you need to be mature and sensitive towards others and towards yourself.

Bottom of the deck energy:

Three of Water:

The Three of Cups is the card of friendships and community, as well as celebrations and gatherings. So, having this as the overall energy of this reading is again, clarifying that you need to look at the energy you keep around you, especially in your friendships. When you want to throw a party or are invited to one, before you go or start inviting people, be careful and mindful of the people who you want around you so you don’t keep bringing yourself down.

There is a lot of Aries energy in this pile so, you could be an Aries or have strong Aries placements.

I was also getting a lot of images of bugs coming through while I was doing this reading, specifically stink bugs, so that may be a symbol for some of you.

More Specific Messages (Extended Reading)

Pile Two:

Who are the people who chose this pile?

King of Swords, Four of Swords, and Death:

You have gone through an ending of some sort in your life recently. I believe that this ending was a relationship, either a friendship, or a romantic relationship, and because of this, you have been feeling heartbroken, not knowing what happened in that relationship and why this ending happened. Because you have been feeling so upset and down in the dumps you have been giving yourself time to rest, wanting to hide away and not show your face because you know you won't be able to hide how you’ve been feeling. I was feeling very nauseous while doing this reading so, many of you may actually be experiencing physical sickness not just mental sickness because of this ending. For those of you who can’t hide away all day long and have to go out in public for work or for whatever reasons, I believe that you have been forcing a smile and pretending everything has been just fine in your life while you have actually been really struggling internally. Lots of you may be feeling like your brain has been in a fog like it’s been moving slower than usual. There was a very heavy, dark energy with this pile, I had to walk away and finish this reading another day. Many of you have been living in that darkness for quite some time now and I am sorry that you have been experiencing this, I hope that this reading can help bring some light and healing into your life.

Who is this person coming forward with a message?

The Lovers, Five of Swords, and The Empress:

I think this is why it came as such a shock to you that this person could ever do something to betray you because they are such a kind and nurturing person. They have such strong feminine energy, giving off strong maternal nurturing energy that you would've never thought that they would be the type to hurt you. I think that what you didn’t see though, was that this person was also hurting, they were going through some sort of conflict in their life when they did whatever it was that they did to hurt you. I believe they had no intentions of hurting you with whatever they did, it feels almost like it was a miscommunication between the both of you that caused this fallout. Based on the energy I am getting from this person I believe that they miss you and they never meant to hurt you. They are deeply saddened by what happened between the two of you.

What is their message to you?

Five of Wands, Three of Pentacles, Five of Cups, and Page of Swords:

Like I said above, this person is deeply saddened by the loss of you in their life and they really want to reach out to work things out with you. They may have already been trying to reach out but you have them blocked or just have ignored all of their messages. They want to get together with you and explain to you their side of the story. I don’t know if they want to start a relationship with you again, but I do know they want to talk with you to explain everything that happened. It feels to me that they don’t like leaving things on a bad note and they want to resolve these issues so that there is no bad blood between you anymore.

Why haven’t you been able to receive this message?

Seven of Wands, Knight of Swords, Two of Cups, and Two of Swords:

When you were with this person you thought they were a soul mate of yours that you two were destined to be in each other's lives forever, but then they did something that betrayed you and now you are in a state of defending your ego. Not wanting to even see this person because it hurts too much and you have put up walls trying to protect yourself from getting hurt and embarrassed like that again. However, all of that being said, there is a part of you that wants to hear this person out because you still care for this person deeply and that makes you even angrier because you wish you were the type of person who could just drop somebody without thinking of it but you’re not, you are very sensitive and this may be something you are embarrassed about. On top of all of that, you may be the type of person who doesn’t open up to someone very easily and you open up to this person only for them to betray you, which is another reason why you are not willing to hear this person out. You are very embarrassed and hurt at this moment and are on the defensive, trying to protect yourself.

How can you better receive this message in the future?

Queen of Swords, The World, and The Hanged Man Reversed:

I believe that there is a part of you that understands that this person is desperate to communicate with you and that part wants to hear them out but you are on the defensive and are letting your pride get in the way of this. What you need to do is let this go, stop letting your ego dictate your moves at this time. I know this is hard to do but once you do this you will heal parts of yourself you feel will never heal. The Queen of Swords is someone who is very good at making decisions without letting their feelings get in the way and this is something you need to embrace for you to hear this person out. You are moving nowhere in your spiritual and healing journey by letting your ego drive you in this moment and your guides are telling you here that by letting this side of you go, you will be able to move forward.

With all of the swords coming out, there is strong Air energy in this reading. So, you could be a Libra, Aquarius, or Gemini or have these placements in your chart. There is also strong Cancer energy with this pile as well so you could have Cancer in your chart or this person could also be a Cancer.

Bottom of the deck energy:

Ten of Swords:

The Ten of Swords is the card of victimization and betrayal. So, this is another confirmation that you are feeling this betrayal and feeling like a victim at this moment.

More Specific Messages (Extended Reading)

Pile Three:

Who are the people who chose this pile?

Seven of Pentacles, Seven of Wands, Six of Wands, and Five of Swords:

Right off of the bat pile three it seems that some conflicting energies are coming out for you. On one hand, you are seen as a very successful and patient person who embodies the definition of perseverance and contemplation. However, on the other hand, you are also in a very difficult place right now. Internally you are struggling. You may believe that you have to constantly prepare yourself for opposition in everything you do in life. This may be a defense mechanism that you have developed because of people in your life constantly belittling and second-guessing every step you take. However, based on the energy of this reading I do not believe you need to be defending yourself. I don't believe that there is anyone in your life at this current moment who has the intention of putting you down. But, you still feel like there is so, you are in a place at the moment where you are jumping down people's throats for no reason. I believe that you are very spiritual. You have strong intuition and you know this but you may be afraid of it, so you stuff it down and ignore it which is not helping you at all. This may be why you have been struggling to discern whether or not people have negative intentions toward you or not.

Who is this person coming forward with a message?

Ten of Wands, Seven of Swords, and Ace of Cups:

This person who is coming forward with a message for you is a mentor of some sort. For many of you this may be a deity that you worship who is helping you in your spiritual practice, for others this may be your inner child coming forward with a message for you. This person may seem like they are intentionally hiding things from you and not giving you the full picture, which is why I believe that for many of you, this is a deity that you work with. This person has a lot of love for you and is coming forward with open arms, wanting you to feel their love and warmth, but, they are also struggling deeply right now. I feel like this struggle they are facing is because of you. As I said before you are highly spiritual but you have been ignoring that side of yourself and since this person is a mentor for you, specifically in spirituality, they are struggling because you are not listening to their advice. It’s almost like you speak with them sometimes and ask them for help but you don’t actually listen to what they have to say to you and you aren’t actively working with them which is what is causing this struggle for them because they don’t understand why you are wanting to work with them when you don’t actually do any of the work.

What is their message to you?

King of Cups, Five of Wands, The Fool, and Quote:

The quote that is specific to this deck came out for you pile three. It says; “What we see in the symbology of tarot derives in large measure from our own intuition and, once revealed, reflects back upon each of us to further enrich our lives.” As I said above pile three, you are highly intuitive but you do not tap into it. Instead, you choose to ignore it and pretend it doesn’t exist, and to that, this person is telling you that your intuition is not a bad thing, in fact, once you start listening to it, it will actually improve your quality of life. The King of Cups represents an advisor, someone who is very balanced between their head and their heart. This person wants you to know that they are in your life to help you, to guide you and it is time you start to actually listen to what they have to say. They say you worry too much, that you think way too much about the what-ifs, and that you are letting your ego get in the way too much when it comes to your spirituality. Instead, you need to just let go, and let your intuition guide you with the aid of this person. It can be troublesome when you have control issues to let go and let something or someone else take control but, it’s important to remember that your intuition is also a part of you. So, when you’re letting go and letting your intuition take over it is still you in control just not the part of you that over-intellectualizes everything. Overall, it seems like their message to you is to stop hiding from your spirituality and to actually start tapping into it. It’s time for you to start living a spiritually fulfilled life.

Why haven’t you been able to receive this message?

Page of Cups, Knight of Pentacles, and The Star:

I think this is where I am getting your inner child coming forward. It seems as though your inner child is the reason you are not able to receive this message and I think this is because a lot of your defense mechanisms are coming from the wounded part of your inner child. You as you are currently, are very hard-working and practical, however, your inner child is the opposite. It seems like you have some very deep wounds from your childhood that you have not dealt with which is what has been causing you to block out these messages. Since you have not healed your inner child, and instead choose to ignore that part of yourself as well, you are stuck and will continue to be stuck until you address these issues that are holding you back and making you not see these messages that are coming through.

How can you better receive this message in the future?

The Emperor, The High Priestess, and King of Swords:

What is interesting to me, pile three, is that you have control issues yet, when it comes to healing parts of yourself and working on your spirituality, you act as though it is out of your control. I know I said above that you need to give up your control issues when it comes to your spirituality and listening to this mentor but that does not mean that you just give up and do nothing. You are still in control of your life and are in the driver's seat of your life so, what this means when it comes to your spirituality and your healing journey, is you need to listen to the advice of this mentor and then make the moves for yourself. Give up your control and need to be the one who makes all the decisions. Instead, let this mentor guide you while you implement their practice and advice into your life.

Bottom of the deck energy:

Six of Cups:

The whole underlying energy of this reading is nostalgia and memories. What this confirms for me is that some healing needs to be done when it comes to your past traumas because they are what is holding you back right now.

The colors gold and purple were big with this pile so, they may have some significance to you.

For some, it may be that you should start wearing gold jewelry, or surrounding yourself with gold decor while you practice your spirituality.

Fruit was a big symbol with this pile as well, specifically red fruit. To me, this is a message from this deity that they want you to start eating more red fruit and if you have an altar for this deity they may want you to leave them some red fruits.

I was also hearing “days of the week” so, some of you may need to start scheduling times throughout the days to sit down and work on your spirituality. For some of you, this may be the only way that you will actually do it.

More Specific Messages (Extended Reading)

#tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot #oracle readings #oracle #astrology #Aries #Taurus #cancer #Gemini #Leo #Virgo #Libra #Scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #aphrostarot

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moonlightazriel · 1 day

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Chapter 14: Into the lion's den /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N enters Koschei's lair and finally confirms some suspicions

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Again mentions of trauma and grief.

Notes: I'm so glad that I have almost all the chapters written cuz my fingers are fucking useless now and I can't write 🙄

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

The dark living room was immediately illuminated by faelights, papers scattered around the table, potions and a liquid simmering in a cauldron near the fire. She scrunched her nose at the rotten smell. A screeching, like a trapped creature sounded somewhere behind the closed doors that led to the basement, she shivered thinking what could be suffering in his hands.

Drawings adorned the walls, receipts and terrifying creatures. Her breath hitched as she recognized the circle with wyrd marks used to summon the ridderak. This was even more scary than Baba Yellowleg’s tent, the Matron would send her there regularly to check on the older witch and her home always made her bones cold.

“So..” He cleared his throat, those golden eyes turned to her direction, pinning her in place. “Tell me what. What troubles your heart?” He once again extended his hand and she quietly placed it onto his.

Mantyx almost gasped with the swirling of emotions that hit him when he touched her skin. Anger, hatred, pain, grief, pain was what burned brighter in that array of feelings that clouded her mind. He tried to take a look but he was met with a wall made of pure steel, unbreakable, unbendable and impenetrable.

But another thing caught his attention, singing beautifully to no one hear, a mating bond stood, he had learned everything about it in the years he was trapped there. A bond shared by two people that was stronger than everything, once the bond was accepted nothing could break it. He tugged at the string lightly, watching closely as she startled, her free hand flying to her heart. She didn’t understand what this was.

Near that cabin, a worried shadowsinger yelped in surprise as he felt a tug in his chest, like someone was pulling a string tied to his soul. Lucien looked at him with a raised eyebrow, asking him if he was alright. Azriel just shook his head, hand rubbing circles in his chest, in a soothing manner. His eyes focused back on the cabin door, he wanted to go there and kick it down, rescuing her but he knew he couldn’t.

“I see that you lost someone very important to you.” He pointed it out, going for the easiest approach, usually wasn’t hard to know what troubled people, they were too simple to read, always thinking they were good at hiding their emotions and thinking of him as a god for being able to read them like a cooking book.

“I lost everything.” She quietly replied, Y/N never really opened up to anyone after the war, just brushing their concerns off and focusing on her work to suffocate those drowning feelings. “I lost my sister, the only person that truly loved me, I couldn't even say goodbye. I lost my way, I lost myself after she was gone, and I don't think I'll ever be able to go back to what I was.”

Mantyx looked at her, the despair pungent on the tip of his tongue. The shadows in her eyes darkened as she frowned, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. He took a deep breath, feeling all of her negative emotions fill the void in his chest, he had to suppress a smirk at it, he fed from negative emotions, draining them and leaving the person numb.

“You can’t ever go back, all you can do is keep going and adapt to the change.” He offered and she scoffed.

“I would give anything, do anything to get her back.” Mantyx approached her. It was like the light couldn’t reach it, being sucked into a black hole, not reflecting. If it wasn’t for his proximity she wouldn't even have noticed.

But there it was, resting with an unsettling melody, the wyrd key that opened the gate atop Ramiel, what she needed to get home. She couldn't risk getting it just now, or else he would kill her and all of their efforts would be useless.

“What if I told you that I can bring her back?” He offered and her eyes lifted from the key to his gold orbs. She never knew about the extent of the other Kings powers, if Erawan was that powerful she imagined how powerful Mantyx and Orcus would be.

“You can do it?” She inquired, doubt started to coat her thoughts, she missed Asterin, what if she could see her one last time, or even better, get her back fully?

“You just need to do me a simple favor in return.” She closed her eyes, that was the only way. She shook her head in agreement.

“What do you need?” She opened her eyes, determination burning in that gaze. “I’ll do anything.”

“Bring me Nesta Archeron.” He said and she nodded, Mantyx smiled. His hand extended towards the door that slowly opened to reveal the green island he lived in. “I’ll be waiting for your return.”

Y/N bowed to him, her eyes tracing the key that moved up and down with each breath he gave. She turned around, slowly walking outside, she could still feel his eyes on her when she crossed the bridge, so she didn’t dare to look to where she knew they would be, she kept walking forward until her frame disappeared from his line of sight. Just then she let out the breath she was holding.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel and the others reached her halfway back to the Manor, she hadn't even noticed she had walked so much, her tensed muscles and shivering body were the only indications of the fear she had felt alone in that cabin. Azriel touched her arm, making her spin in her heels, collapsing against his chest. Shuddering breaths left her lips as she tried to calm herself.

“Did he hurt you?” She shook her head and Azriel breathed with relief, his shadows moved around her in a protecting way, ready to strike at anyone who dared get too close to her.

“We should go back, we don’t know what is lurking around in those woods.” Lucien advised, also worried about the fragile form that clung to Azriel for dear life.

They all started to head back, being surprised by the giant wyvern baring his teeth at them, poison dripping from his fangs, he looked anxious, like he felt all of her distress through the connection he shared with his rider, and by the way she pushed Azriel out of the way, stumbling until her chest and forehead were pressed against his nose, he probably felt.

Meraxes instantly relaxed with her touch, sniffing her scent and declaring she was alright. Y/N sobbed against him, her hands rubbing his leathery skin up and down, until she calmed herself down.

“I’m okay, I promise.” She breathed and the wyvern nodded, giving one last look to the males before stepping aside and allowing their access to the house. She let go of him, following the rest of them inside, plopping herself on the couch.

“Why did you go inside? You could be dead now.” Lucien slowly started, worry filled his voice, Y/N had become someone important to him and he couldn’t fathom the idea of her being killed by that damned monster.

“We needed answers.” She simply replied, shrugging.

“And did you get them?” Jurian asked, leaning against the wall that led to the kitchen.

“His name is Mantyx, the middle brother of Erawan and Orcus, a Valg King.” She started, all of the males looked at her. “He was the one who summoned the ridderak that attacked me, he was after Nesta and her powers.”

“Does he have a key?” Azriel asked, his eyebrows furrowed as the engines in his brain worked.

“He carries it around his neck.” Lucien cursed loudly, how would they get it?

“How did you get out?” Jurian once again asked all the right questions.

“I promised him that I would get Nesta.” Azriel's eyes widened. “I just needed to get out to tell you all this, chill.” She said to him, her blue eyes piercing him back in place and he didn’t dare to argue.

“What do we do now?” Lucien inquired, rubbing his temples.

“I don’t know about you, but i’ll have a bath, i’m feeling disgusting.” She said getting up, leaving the males behind her.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her chest ached as she sat in the scalding water, trying to rub all those feelings away from her, but it was useless. She then reached for the book Morrigan had found in the Hewn City, not having time to read it in the trip until now. She opened the book and focused on the fancy handwriting, allowing her brain to shut down from the real world and just pay attention to the words in those pages.

“It was during the night that he came, talking with a sweet voice, promises of a better world and absolution to those who bowed to him and allowed his angels a home. The god of conquest was how they called him.

He brought her, with dark hair and dark eyes, she feeded from life and used the remains to build weapons made of human bones. They called her The Weaver, and her twin, The Bone Carver, one more terrifying than the other. They weren’t angels, they were the gods of death, draining life from the earth and eating our souls.

They talked about how lucky we were, claiming to be princes and princesses from their homeworld. No one knew how they came or where they came from, but all we knew was that it was all related to that necklace, made of a dark stone and with an unknown shape. They had come from the north, many guessed they were a plague sent by the Night Court to terrorise us, but even the High Lord feared them, he couldn't control them, no one could, so they took what they pleased.

It was Celeste Vanserra, the Fireborn that brought us hope, the most powerful fire carrier the world has ever seen. She locked The Bone Carver with the help of the cauldron in the prison first. This made the fae wars easier, but their army was too big to be brought down, so they had to change their strategy.

Divide and conquest is what they called it. They managed to separate The Weaver, and once again, with the help of the cauldron, Celeste and her fire locked Stryga in the woods, in a cabin no one dared to get close to. Whenever a general fell, their army fell with them.

The High Lords followed Celeste to the battlefield, following her command and doing what she said. The final battle was in the lake, where Celeste used her powers to create a fire circle around Koschei and his monsters, trapping him inside, not knowing this was his biggest weakness, her fire was the only thing that could kill him. But before Celeste could, he killed her, piercing her heart with a sword.

The High Lords seeing their strongest fall, decided that they weren’t enough to kill Koschei, so they used the cauldron imbued by their powers to trap his soul to the island. As long as this world still exists, Koschei cannot be killed, his soul is bound to the Earth itself. Only the power of the cauldron or the fire of Celeste can free him from his prison and finally kill him.

With their failure to end the biggest threat our world has ever seen, they erased Celeste’s name from history. If no one remembered her, no one would remember how weak they were compared to Koschei. But her fire was still alive in the blood of her offspring, and the family Vanserra is the closest we have to a chance of killing him, unfortunately those who don’t learn their history tend to repeat it.”

Y/N gasped, the water already cold as she discarded the book and jumped out of the tub, opening the door to her and Azriel’s room. He sat on the bed, eyeing her up and down, following the droplets of water that ran down her curves, but her sombre expression brought his eyes back to her face, ignoring the temptation of looking down.

“What happened?” He asked and she took a deep breath.

“I know how to kill him.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @fieldofdaisiies @blackgirlmagicforever @a-frog-with-a-laptop @going-through-shit @asweetblueberry2

@roses-r-red54330 @mis-lil-red @sheblogs @hibye02 @impossibelle

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@just-here-reading @celestialend @donttellthecats @scatteredstardustt @snoopyspace

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#azriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #moonlightazriel #night court #velaris #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #azriel acotar #azriel x oc #worlds apart fic

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 3 hours

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How do you think the spider gang would react to Gwen coming out as trans? I think they'd all be supportive, but I'm curious if you have details

I am going to be honest with you anon, I had been looking at this question for weeks, thinking about it, and...I am not coming up with much.

I am trans, I don't have that much experience with people reacting to that- and I am not making any more comments about that.

Going back to the original question- I think all of them would be supportive; regardless of background or history, I feel doing anything else would be a disservice to the characters, and also, a type of story I really don't have interest entertaining, (Would Noir, being from 40s, be reasonable to have his apprehensions and need to overcome it? Yes, I am interested in seeing something like that? Personally, fuck no.)

Now, it doesn't mean there cannot be hiccups- all well intending, of course.

(Specific characters under the cut because, as always with me, it got long.)

Peter B I see going over the top; talking how brave Gwen is, and that he supports her no matter what, he also reads a book on trans people and tell hims about the people in his universe who are trans. Gwen appreciates it, but it can be uncomfortable at times.

Noir, regardless of time period, would be supportive, but mixes up terminology. The poor guy already struggles with the pop culture lingo, so throwing queer lingo into the mix can make things awkward; specially since, as a spider-man, he has defended the marginalized people of his dimension and is aware of the community, but- that community had its own terminology that may not be appreciated to day. Is a growing curve.

In my opinion, Ham is a much of a man as Bugs Bunny, meaning gender isn't as important as commitment to the bit; so I can see him busting a dress all of the sudden and saying "I get you sis." Accordingly, if asked about his own gender, he is pretty much "normally a guy, but in general whatever fits better with the scene."

Peni I headcanon as nonbinary, so I think she would be happy to meet another person who isn't cis. Definitely would have lots of talk about presentation, tricks for clothes a make up, the works.

Margo is cool about it, there isn't much to say there; she just tells Gwen that it doesn't change anything between them, and she is still invited to come for the slumber parties (Margo has thrown a bunch in the Spider-Society, because anything to spend as little time mentally at home as possible.)

Pavitr: "Oh so you are like a hijra? That's so cool!" (This is a term from a place I am not from, so I can't talk in length about it, feel free to look it up because it is indeed, very cool.) While not the same, he ends up telling more about how people in his dimension see transgender people, Gwen finds it overall really interesting.

Hobie is, of course, cool about it. He is a punk, noncomformist, and "hates labels," he could probably tell Gwen a stupid amount of things about queer history, intersectionally, so far and so forth. Despite using he/him pronouns, I believe with all my heart Hobie would not give a shit about gender roles and dress how he likes, and be okay with any pronouns. This has nothing to do with your question, but I headcanon that Hobie has been the queer awakening of many other teens of the Spider-Society as he strolls down in whatever outfit he feels like it.

Now Miles, is obviously supportive. I think he may be oblivious to many things (I headcanon him as bi for a long awhile, but I am not sure if that's something he knows already or has yet to discover,) so he asks questions, but is always respectful and has no trouble answering. Overall, Gwen thinks is cute how much Miles dotes on her, and reminding her that she will always be the prettiest girl alive to him.

Huh, I guess I had more to say that I expected, this was fun! Thanks for the question and sorry for the delay.

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cemeterything · 1 year

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the more i learn about the mortuary profession the more i'm convinced everyone else is weird about people who work with the dead and i'm the normal one. of course i understand why people find corpses and the decay process and the end of life in general upsetting, because being reminded that you and everyone you know will eventually cease to exist and there's nothing you can do about it isn't something you can really take any comfort in, but it's just death? it's just inevitable and the way things are? people who work with the dead aren't creepy horror movie mad scientists cooking up frankensteins and draculas, and they're not immoral sickos even if they do have a fascination with the grotesque and macabre. they're just people providing an important service. a lot of them are very compassionate, passionate, hardworking people who want the best for the memory of the deceased and their loved ones. i genuinely don't understand what's so bad and scary about that, but whenever i bring it up there's always at least a few people who look at me like i'm crazy and call me a creep and make a show of shuddering and backhandedly complimenting my "bravery" and "unique career goals" while laughing as if my genuine interest in death and the dead is all just some inappropriate joke. i swear it's more unsettling how many people are unwilling to even acknowledge death as a natural inevitable part of life than it is to talk about it.

#🐉#and like. i always get people telling me i need to read more books about it/talk to people/spend one day with a dying person #and ill change my mind. but ive done all those things and i just want to work in the mortuary field even more now?#instructions unclear i am now convinced this is the job for me. oops!#this is really just me thinking out loud/venting but like #i never really noticed just how many people are like. uncomfortable with even talking about death as a concept #until i became interested in mortuary sciences #death

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liquidstar · 1 month

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a friend who'd wait :)

#im posting this very late because i was sort of weary of how it came out and ended up messing w it until it was like 4am oops.#and i have plans tmrw so... oh well! i did my best and ill put it out while i can!#and i tried to make the scene match barnard's colors lol #finn's ocs #finn's art #i know i said id do more sillay stuff with the simpler screentone only style but i had a couple more of these in me #and this is the first piece im making thats like an actual part of the story too rather than just setting stuff for fun #i wanna write something to go with it too but for now ill just sort of briefly explain the context in the tags here:#barnard has a pretty bad case of OCD and his compulsions have made it difficult to make friends in the past #he was never outright bullied or anything but people just didnt really have the patience to deal with it #he has compulsions that include stuff like walking through doors until it feels right and needing things to be perfectly aligned #which in group settings has lead to people having to wait for him to finish his rituals and join them #they might find it tolerable at first but eventually they grow impatient and hes just... not invited to stuff anymore #but juno is a newer member of the guild who ends up frequenting the same library. hes also kinda a little weird #and they dont become fast friends or anything but just sort of naturally spend time in the same place #though they never plan meetups they eventually fall into a routine. around the same time theyd just both be at the library #and read next to each other. and maybe talk a bit. and eventually they end up walking back to the guildhall together #since theyre going to the same place after all. and juno always waits for barnard outside the door #eventually barnard asks if this bothers him. juno kinda just tells him 'of course it does' without any malice or anything. just a statement #barnard is surprised and apologizes and juno says not to. but the next day juno doesnt show up at the usual time.#barnard assumes hes committed somekinda more by bringing it up. he ends up staying there late reading to get his mind off it & not ruminate #but when he leaves juno is in fact still waiting for him down the hall (see pic) having collected a bunch of books literally abt ocd #he fell asleep bc barnard stayed later than expected. and hes an eepy guy generally. and also one very bad at expressing himself #but now barnard gets that juno's 'of course it [bothers me]' had the implication of 'but its worth it' which no friend has previously done.#and from the interaction juno was also able to understand that this isn't something barnard just does for the hell of it so. he studies.#and checks a bunch of stuff out because he thinks it could help his friend too (theres ocd workbooks and such- i remember working w them)#and thats the point where they became more ''friends'' than ''pleasant library acquaintances''#from there on they also do get into juno's problems. whole other bag of worms. but this specific scene is more about bernard from his pov #sorry about when i said briefly explain. i lied </3 #but compared to the whole sequence im picturing its brief so shhh

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essektheylyss · 1 year

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I am TIRED of hearing the whole "there is NO reason a paragraph shouldn't be more than four lines" writing critique. If Ursula Le Guin can write an asshole psychiatrist monologuing for a page and a half straight, it is FINE, actually.

You can have characters monologue, you can have a long bit of description, you can give exposition in chunks—the issue is when there's no PURPOSE to it and it's treated as a prerequisite dump of information rather than a curated telling.

As long as you're making choices about language and what is being conveyed so that it's relevant and matches the style, it's fine.

#I read body work by melissa febos yesterday and she was like 'unpopular opinion: every single thing in a piece of writing is a choice'#and I was like 'oh my god. a woman after my own heart.'#this is my DEEPEST HELD writing opinion #and also it's fine if you are NOT looking that specifically at every comma but like.#on a larger level you gotta understand why you're doing what you're doing cuz if it implies something you don't want it to?#you gotta be able to understand if that choice is more important to you than the secondary thing it implies #and like. I'm not interrogating every comma or individual word (and my aversion to editing is a flaw that I need to improve upon)#but like. where a paragraph ends is always a choice. always always always. probably the grammar thing I think about most actually.#often it is more of an instinct than conscious examination cuz I've been doing this a long time and there's a feel to it #but I know WHY a paragraph ended when and where it did. I can tell you exactly why if you asked!#and readability is one of the concerns there!!! but that is sure as FUCK not the only concern #nor is it necessarily the most important concern if there's a stylistic need that trumps it or must be balanced with it! and there often is #also. as an adhd person. if I have to hear that it's ableist to adhd people because 'they don't have that much of an attention span!'#I will throw the products of my twenty years worth of writing hyperfixation through your fucking window.#if it's BORING or I don't CARE or I'm TIRED then nO but in a BOOK THAT I AM WILLINGLY READING? shut the fuck uppppp #I don't need No long paragraphs I need VARIATION. INTENTION. STYLE.#I don't have enough attention span for your bullshit actually.#and my experience with adhd is NOT the only one but like. to use adhd to claim that as a stylistic choice is Bad is just. fuck you actually #like constant staccato paragraphs are actually usually WORSE for me cuz I cannot tell what's supposed to be emphasized.#I need the contrast so I know what gets the most weight. cuz NOT EVERYTHING SHOULD. there are LEVELS.#anyway I'll stop ranting in the tags but I was reading lathe of heaven and got mad about it all over again.#I didn't actually see this commentary today I just remembered it. with my so-terribly-short attention span.#so you can rip my long paragraphs out of my cold dead hands.

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house-in-the-backyard-trees · 8 months

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mental breakdown in the tags incoming scroll past for your own well being

#so like im just WORRIED #cause like what if ive fully just convinced myself i think he's attractive but I actually dont think he is and I'm just jerking him around #and actinf like i think hes cute cause hes the first guy im not even joking basically ever since the ripe old age of 9 except for cameron #idgaf about his privacy he can fuck off but anyway he is like the first guy other than tiny little awkward 9 year olds to show me any form #of attention. and what if im craving it so bad im just convincing myself that i like him? like am i doing that? cause never in my life have #i gotten like those fucking butterflies or whatever around guys cause ive never been around them much so ive always felt so awkward around #them and just ignored them. like i even have a hard time talking to my male coworkers and looking them in the eye. and i just make up these #scenarios where every single male coworker that ever showed me any form of attention is actually secretly going to fall in love with me and #its like FUCK is that just all I'm doing? pretending? on both ends? but then i have to tell myself that my anxiety is more often than not #full of shit. but like ive craved attention all my life and what if im juat latching on to the first guy that gives that to me? i don't #wanna be that asshole. im just scared. how does everyone just date people? i thought for a while i may be ace in some way #but im also just wondering if i repressed myself that fucking much from literally age 6 that it did that much damage to me? cause ive always #been weird about myself and my body and things like that and i vividly remember wearing a tank top at age 6 in school and being freaked out #the whole day that i would get dress coded. i need to unpack this in therapy hardcore. cause i was also sa-ed when i was younger but i can't #exactly remember how old i was.#but i just think ive always repressed myself and pushed all of that down to the point that i dont know what it feels like? cause i watch #movies and read books and listen to music qnd im like hmm thats never happened to me something must be Wrong With Me.#thanks for coming to my ted talk #im so fucking nauseous #is that butterflies lmao #🎸

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taylor-titmouse · 2 months

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hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator

i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.

this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.

i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:

DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE

hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.

and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.

you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.

okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.

YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS

good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.

porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!

as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.

while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!

to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!

YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY

hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.

god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!

this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).

okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!

also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.

abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.

I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT

kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.

please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.

as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.

#tt talks writing #tt talks drawing

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reiderwriter · 8 months

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More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds smut #So much plot #maturereiding

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yutasbellybuttonpiercing · 10 months

Text

slowly, i'm going down

access full masterlist here!

pairing: song mingi x reader (no pronouns mentioned, reader has female anatomy)

au/genre: college!au, tutor!reader, mingi does not give a shit about studying, smut

word count: 4816 words

warnings: voice kink (AHHHHH), oral and fingering (reader receiving), reader is a little mean, kitchen sex, anime references, cringe, a joke about adhd, dirty talk... um..., oh right Mingi has a big dick (wbk), everyone's a little silly, unprotected sex (boo ‼️👎🏻), premature ejaculation almost, creampie, cum eating... (not reader...), i think that's it. NOT PROOF READ YET!!

synopsis: mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice

mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.

a/n: i was almost ready when i saw this tiktok and it completely blocked my mind because it's SO FUNNY, but at the same time, it's men being dudes, dudes being bros, and that kind of made it hard for me to continue. i apologize for the 24h delay 😞

taglist: @byuntrash101 @goquokka @ashwoodforest @choisansnotsolegalwife

Mingi is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Or anything that doesn't move and feed his brain with bright colors and his ears with noises, really. He prefers to vibe, and studying is definitely not the vibe. Sadly, studying is a part of his life as a university student. Yes, he chose this path for himself and yes, he was aware that it would involve studying. Still, now that it's really happening and is not just an obstacle to overcome in the far, far future, Mingi kind of wishes he'd chosen something else to do with his life. It's just exhausting, why would he waste the precious time he has left on planet earth on something that doesn't get the serotonin floating? He's pretty sure he has some undiagnosed ADHD simmering up there, but who is he to judge that? He's certainly not studying to become a doctor or whatever.

Anyway, given the fact that Mingi doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. He's barely gotten his way through school, but uni is a different level. Hence, he needs someone to 1) teach him how to study and 2) make him study, or rather: have a judging eye on him while he is supposed to study, so the fear of being called out on it may light a fire under his ass and force him to bury his nose between the stinky pages of an old library book (on that note: he also needed someone to show him how to check out books from the library).

And that's why you are here, every Thursday afternoon, sitting at the sad excuse of a kitchen counter slash dining table in Mingi's scandalously expensive apartment given its size, growling next to him every time you catch him analyzing the bumps on his wallpapers instead of the letters on the pages.

Mingi generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. You are polite, but you have a way of looking at him that makes him feel like he's getting mansplained by your eyes. Your taunting gaze on him makes him feel small, and he doesn't like that at all. It makes him feel like all these years of drinking milk to make him stand at the 1.84m he is at today were in vain. You always have that one expression on your face, and maybe that's just Mingi's subconsciousness telling him to STUDY HARD FOR GOD'S SAKE, but in the way your eyebrows would scrunch together just the tiniest bit, he reads: God, he is fucking stupid.

He doesn't know which (since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class) chemical in his brain suffers an allergic reaction every time you look at him like that, but there has to be one. There is nothing that Mingi hates more than being called stupid. Well, except for studying, maybe.

Call him lazy, call him a scalawag, call him witty for being able to get through all of school without reading a single one of the set books if you must, but do not call him stupid.

The only problem is that you haven't, well, called him stupid per se. It's just how Mingi interprets your stares. Also, he desperately needs you because he doubts there will be many other contestants that are okay with getting paid as little as you are (which is all Mingi has left by the end of a month full of Pokémon trading cards). So Mingi just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.

A loud ringing wakes Mingi from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break!

Disoriented, Mingi raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. It rings again. Slowly, Mingi recognizes the shrill sound as his door bell. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the mirror tells him that his hair is an absolute mess (which is really a crowning achievement given his buzz cut length) and he has imprint marks from his blanket all over his right cheek, but his sleepy mind doesn't even take it in. Mingi furrows his brows and shakes his head. Who would dare to disturb his peaceful slumber at this ungodly hour (4pm)?

The answer, of course, stands right in front of his door. With your arms crossed and the tip of your shoe drumming a dent into Mingi's "come in if you're a silly baka"-door mat, you raise an unimpressed brow at the sleepy shell of Mingi that blinks one eye after the other.

A few seconds pass until Mingi finally realizes who you are, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Immediately after, he furrows his brows once again, his body slumping forward a bit because: why on God's green earth are you here? Then, it hits him like a truck, the aftermath of the collision blowing the remaining sleep out of his eyes: it's Thursday afternoon!

"Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside to let you enter.

"It's fine, it's only freezing cold outside," you stare at him before stepping in, shudder as you kick your shoes off, slip into Mingi's guest slippers and hurry inside. Mingi's brain does not register the sarcasm drenching your words.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" You ask as Mingi finally manages to follow you into the kitchen. You sit, take out a few sheets of paper from your backpack, then look over questioningly as Mingi has not even moved a millimeter, but instead started yawning like his life depends on it. Your eyes drift down his body. "Or maybe after you've put on some pants?"

Mingi freezes, looks down to confirm that, indeed, he's not wearing pants, but Naruto boxer shorts, then covers his crotch with his hands and buzzes off into his room.

Minutes later, Mingi reenters the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips that, yes, he checked twice if he's wearing them the right way around. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Of course, you'd notice.

"Mingi, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Mingi has not seen. Ever.

"I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.

"Yeah, you are? Why?" Mingi's tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.

"I studied during my lunch break," Mingi informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second.

Hold on. Mingi's mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. He suddenly notices the way you started creating skin-on-skin contact with him, the way you want to be closer to him, eyeing him even more than you ever did before. Just... why? Is it because you saw him in his Anime panties?

A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your pencil against the book to remind him of the reason why you're actually here. Mingi groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.

"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice?

"I'm really glad you're tutoring me, you know?" He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.

"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Mingi decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you with the sultry rasp his vocal cords are gifted with.

"Mingi, focus-"

"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Mingi reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, high pitched, eyebrows scrunched as to why the hell he has to do this before doing that only to do whatever next when it wasn't like this for the other exercise he had to do minutes prior. He is not stupid (!), he does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.

"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Mingi inhales sharply. Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on the counter without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.

Yes, Mingi is super patient, that's just what comes with the entire vibe-personality package, so he does not dump your cute sorry ass on his baka-door mat, but simply closes his pen, lays it on the table and looks at you. A fabulous idea plops into his mind.

"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today."

"A-are you?" You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Mingi looks at you without moving his head. "Why?"

"Well, just stuff, you know?" Mingi enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel. "There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.

Unmistakably, your hand holding your own pen in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the poor objects until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud as if you'd just ran the entire way from Mingi's place to the next convenience store (seriously, why the fuck is he paying so much for this godforsaken apartment?). And - Mingi's favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together.

Oh, how Mingi loves himself a good reaction like this.

"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"

"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Mingi confirms with a slight smirk. He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Mingi lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Mingi so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".

"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should head home then?"

Mingi smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His hands automatically reach out to play with his pen, his long, slender fingers toying with the object, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements. "Already?"

"Mhm." You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Mingi listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching.

As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.

"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing. "What?"

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.

Mingi smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness. "Oh, I know."

You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Mingi loves this game.

That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.

"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you. Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Song Mingi stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Mingi can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him.

Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all. Oh, how the gears are turning behind your forehead as you're trying to figure out what's going on, and what's going to go on in the next minutes.

"Thought so," Mingi deadpans. Yeah, that's right. Look how smart he is now! Super smart! He's got you all figured out. He knows exactly what to say and how to act to make you feel - and, fuck, does this feel like redemption - stupid.

"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Mingi's form, but Mingi is not here for it. Mingi has gotten what Mingi wants. Mingi feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.

"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Mingi's mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!

"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Mingi smugly leaned back in his chair. Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said.

In the blink of an eye, Mingi feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Mingi gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his.

A deep groan escapes Mingi's lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Mingi in front of you. Yes, Mingi is aware of the effect of his siren eyes.

For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.

"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise. And you do, allowing Mingi to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the counter. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.

Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Mingi is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time.

Okay, Mingi admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more.

Impatient as you are, you assist Mingi in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes.

And as much as Mingi would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access. His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Mingi loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even.

Finally, the time has come, and Mingi kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. It doesn't even faze him that he hasn't cleaned these floors in weeks, honestly, he is in so deep he probably wouldn't even realize if the stove was on, lighting his study notes on fire.

He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.

Throwing your thighs over his shoulders, he pulls you forward a little further, chuckling as you almost lose balance and smile at him. Okay, maybe Mingi feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in.

So that's what he does, obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Mingi tastes you.

His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls.

Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Mingi thinks, not to brag, but-

Mingi's eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Fuck, how are you so hot? Mingi's fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands.

To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, Mingi lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you. At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance.

Your throat coughs out a broken moan at this, your eyes switching between looking at Mingi's eyes and his mouth, and closing completely. Mingi loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this.

He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle. He feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist.

Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum.

Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you.

Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it.

Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.

"You make me so hard," Mingi says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants. And as if you're getting paid to stroke Mingi's ego even more, you gasp at his size.

Mingi can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?

"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully. Oh, how Mingi would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Mingi is more in his giving > receiving era.

Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more.

Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Mingi helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle.

Damnit, Mingi. Why couldn't you've changed your underwear? Mingi mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.

"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his anime boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Mingi and are not possessed by a sex demon."

"Incubus," Mingi points out.

"I don't fucking care. Just get this hideous thing off and have sex with me!"

Mingi does not need to be told twice, although he makes a mental note to scold you later for calling the one and only Naruto printed on a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world hideous.

"God, fuck," you let out, and Mingi chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half, "come here. Please."

You pull him closer, wrap your legs around him and beg him with your eyes. Mingi wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely.

God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Mingi feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.

"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again."

How did that get out there?

You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now. "You're so cute."

Cute?!

Mingi will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance. "Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open. Helplessly, you cling to Mingi's body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier.

With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Mingi's ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.

"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return. "Yeah, like it that my voice is so deep?" You nod pathetically. "Cute."

"Mingi- 's so good."

"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Mingi grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open. Mingi really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"

"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot. Mingi feels like he loves you.

Mingi also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.

"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? All that matters is that Mingi's ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish.

His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one.

Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Mingi if he kept it that way. That's why he found himself back on his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge.

It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Mingi eating his own cum out of you, he assumes. Somehow, you two end up in his bed after, mostly because Mingi is a cuddler, partly because Mingi is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows.

#mingi smut #ateez mingi smut #song mingi smut #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez mingi #ateez song mingi #kpop #smut #kpop smut #fem reader #ateez x reader #mingi x reader

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3hks · 2 months

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How to Get Better at Writing Without Actually Writing

Are you looking to improve your writing without needing to write? I'll admit, I am definitely that kind of person--I have the hardest time even finding something interesting to write--despite that, I have noticed that my writing has vastly improved over the past year or two when it was hardly a hobby, and here's how I did it!

ANALYZE DIFFERENT WORKS

Yes yes, everyone tells you to READ, READ, and READ, even I will agree. However, unlike what some people tell you, you don't actually have to read all those classics like Heart of Darkness or The Hobbit. Of course, those books are very beneficial, but if you find no interest in those types of books (like me), then don't read them!

If you prefer reading casual stories posted by online authors, whether it be a fanfiction or their own, original story, it still qualifies as reading! As long as you are able to find a work that you particularly enjoy, that's all you need!

When reading, the key to improving at writing is to always study the story. Take a moment to look at certain words or phrases that stick out to you. How does the author use them? What do they mean? Keep track of the characters' development and how it affects them. Additionally, note things like powerful scenes, dialogue, and more to have an idea of how you can create something just as impactful. For example, if a text made you cry, think about how and why you reacted like that. This can actually help you re-create events that hold the same effectiveness, if not more!

To add on, if you really dislike reading just that much, then you can always analyze things like shows, movies, etc. However, this will prove to be less efficient because you often don't get access to the text behind the shows. Still, it's a good way to study the plot, characters, character developments, dialogue, and relationships!

2. PROOFREADING

No, I'm not saying that you should be an editor; this actually ties back to my first tip. Remember how I said that if you don't want to read classics, then don't? Well, this is because forcing yourself to read them is completely unnecessary (unless you like them or want to write like the author, of course). As a matter of fact, reading poorly written stories can be very helpful for improvement!

When we read books or novels that have obvious grammar errors, repetitive words, and choppy sentences, we will realize these mistakes and point them out to ourselves. Being able to scout out faults means that we are able to learn from them and grow! Noticing these things will also help prevent you from making the same or similar mistakes!

3. STUDY TIPS ONLINE

I used to go search up websites on Google whenever I wanted help with a certain topic. Of course, not all of the sites are reliable and/or helpful, but some point out good ideas that a couple of us just need! This can be especially useful regarding the things that we are unfamiliar with when writing. They can offer a base foundation and tips on how to start and finish!

They can also serve as a great inspiration for fresh ideas and new perspectives!

Yes, these three tips are pretty simple; however, I have found that they work very well for me! People vary from person-to-person, so it can't be guaranteed the same effect, but this is the best I got! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY! <3

Happy writing~

3hks :)

#writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #writing tips #creative writing #writing advice #improve at writing #improve at writing without writing #writers on tumblr #writer tips #get better at writing #get better at writing without writing

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wordsinhaled · 9 months

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thinking about how much crowley and aziraphale have been getting slammed for their poor communication and on the one hand... absolutely, i agree 100%. they have so much work to do in that department, they are always missing each other when it comes to seeing what they each want from the other and expressing it clearly. but on the other hand... like... encompassing six thousand years into a conversation? six thousand years of knowing each other. six thousand years of gravitating toward one another

like... the bit that really gets me, in crowley's confession, is - "...and we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't. i mean, the last few years, not really" - this implication that like... at least on crowley's part... since they saved the world together he's allowed himself to be more open in how he feels about aziraphale. that in his mind he's already long since chosen Their Side, they've chosen their side in their behavior towards each other, and they've talked about... our car, our shop, but even before that...

we see in the minisodes, the way they already act. they're a pair that shows rather than tells all the time and it's so abundantly clear that everyone around them can see it, is constantly asking about it, assuming it, reading it on them like they're an open book - with everyone but each other.

but like how do you put into clumsy human words how much love you feel for someone who stood next to you while you created the stars? who helped you create them? how do you say openly how you feel to the one person who understands you and your nature better than anyone else, who indulges your every whim because they want to see you happy while everyone else says you were built wrong, you're too indulgent, you're too soft but you're perfect for him, specifically, because you stood at the beginning of the universe together?

like how are they supposed to talk about that? especially when it's so forbidden to talk about that?

there are so few words that truly feel like they properly encompass what love truly and genuinely means? what loving someone TRULY means? how it's giving up your onliness and entrusting yourself into the hands of another, now you're not just you, now you're you but the world is brighter and sharper and more beautiful because of another? how we're all stuck on a spinning rock in the middle of space in the middle of the universe in the middle of the galaxy in the middle of eternity just little grains of sand and then there's another little grain of sand in the scheme of things, but it's the most important one ever created because of how happy it makes you?

but multiply that by six thousand years

so like of course you fucking cry and you stare at each other with tears in your eyes like you're absolutely ESSENTIAL to one another. but like how do you make it work in words when you don't know if there are even words for the prospect of existing without one another? and you have this absolutely incandescent and fragile thing between you that everyone understands to exist, you understand it to exist too, and sometimes it is scary as fuck to admit that you need someone. it is terrifying and uncomfortable and vulnerable and we're just people who live maybe 100 years on this earth? a blink of an eye compared to six thousand years of shared existence?

like...? truthfully i don't think i could talk about it easily either because oh my god that's fucking terrifying. that six thousand years of your comfortable and beloved shared existence could go up in smoke with one misplaced word. like no fucking WONDER he can't get the words out. and no fucking wonder, it's easier to couch things in terms like group and team and everything when you're on the verge of falling apart into a million pieces because the other half of your soul wants to leave you behind. it's easier to say come with me, work with me, be my second in command, than to admit he's first in your heart and mind every second of every day since you saw him bringing light at the beginning of the universe???

just... you know? they need a fucking break. they need a vacation. they need a cottage in the south fucking downs

#aughghg hgh g hghg g ghg i am in pain #good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 spoilers #go2 spoilers #spoilers #WHAT OTHER TAGS IDK i don't wanna spoil people ily <3 #good omens 2

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shivroygirls · 1 year

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can i just say something? at this party here there are maybe 40 of the most important people in america and you have just walked all around, all evening, telling them all that i'm gonna get fired. no, it was implied, lightly, as a little... god! part of a tactical kind of joke. will you explain to me, the joke? because i don't get the fucking joke. MY GOD, TOM! i don't get the joke, i don't get the joke. it was something that he said, that isn't true, that we needed to say. but you stood by his side, and he said it, and you were like "okay, well, that sounds good to me." fuck's sake, i'm not doing this right now. you know i'm in serious trouble, that was a play. you will be okay because you are a tough fucking bitch who will always survive because you do what you need, you will do what — are you even listening? i will be okay? — you will do whatever you need. yeah? really? yeah, you sure you're not projecting, because that is actually you. should we have a real conversation? with a scorpion? no. that was a friendly thing. that was a friendly thing. yeah. sure. real friendly. yeah, no, i'm a scorpion, you're a hyena, you're a... you're a street rat. actually, no, you're a fucking snake. "here's a dead snake to wear as a necktie, tom", "why aren't you laughing?" (pause) i wonder if we shouldn't clear the air. yeah? yeah. sure. i think you can be a very selfish person and i think you find it very hard to think about me — what the fuck? — and i think you shouldn't have even married me, actually. what the fuck? what the ACTUAL fuck? you proposed to me. you proposed at my lowest fucking ebb. my dad was dying, what was i supposed to say? perhaps "no"? i didn't want to hurt your feelings. thanks! thanks for that! yeah, you really kept me safe while you ran off to fuck the phone book. fuck off. you're hick — and then, and then.. — conservative hick — you hid it, you hid it because you were so scared of how fucking awful you are. you were only with me to get to power. you got it now, tom, you've got it! I'M WITH YOU BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! bullshit, you're fucking me for my DNA, you were fucking me for a fucking ladder because your whole family is striving and parochial. that's not... thats not a fair characterization. no? well, your mom loves me more than she loves you, because she's cracked. you want to... you want to actually clear the air? fine. you betrayed me. YOU WERE GOING TO SEE ME SENT TO FUCKING PRISON, SHIV! AND THEN YOU FOBBED ME OFF WITH THAT FUCKING UNDRINKABLE WINE AND YOU WON'T HAVE MY BABY BECAUSE YOU NEVER EVEN THOUGHT, HONESTLY, THAT YOUD BE WITH ME MORE THAN FOUR FUCKING YEARS, I DON'T THINK! YOU OFFERED TO GO TO JAIL! YOU OFFERED TO GO TO JAIL BECAUSE YOU'RE SERVILE! you're just... YOU'RE SERVILE! YOU ARE INCAPABLE OF THINKING ABOUT ANYBODY OTHER THAN YOURSELF BECAUSE YOUR SENSE OF WHO YOU ARE, SHIV, IS THAT FUCKING THIN! oh yeah you read that in a book, tom? YOU'RE TOO FUCKING TRANSPARENT TO FIND THAT IN A BOOK! you're pathetic, you're pathetic. youre a masochist and you can't even take it. i think you are incapable of love, and i think you are maybe not a good person to have children! well, that's not very nice to say, is it? i'm sorry. i'm sorry, but you... you... you have hurt me more than you can possibly imagine. and you, you took away the last six months i could've had with my dad. no. yes. no! yes. you sucked up to him and you cut me out! it's not my fault that you didn't get his approval. i have given you endless approval and it doesn't fill you up because you're broken. i don't like you. i don't... i don't even care about you. i don't care. have we cleared the air, huh? feel good now? yeah. yeah. fucking great. tip top. you don't deserve me, and you never did. and everything came out of that. so fucking flat.

#succession #tomshiv #jesus fucking christ

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essektheylyss · 2 years

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not to be an unhinged Capricorn of a writer, but I really love getting rejections. I'm taking up space as a writer! I'm getting feedback! often I get to know if I got to a second round or not, and if they actually want to see more of my work. sometimes they even suggest other markets to send the piece to that it might fit better!

I've never gotten a mean rejection—even when they're form responses, they are usually quite nice, and stress how many submissions the market or agency receives. and I understand that, but a lot of folks don't. just because you were rejected doesn't mean the reader didn't like the piece—because of how many submissions virtually every market and agency gets, there are dozens of reasons why they have to say no to things, even things they love.

and every personalized rejection I've gotten has actually made my day, because it is genuinely lovely to know that someone read my work and gave it enough thought and consideration to say something specific about it. because I get excited when anyone reads and thinks about something I've written! even if it's just one person!

like do I want the things to get accepted, yeah! cuz I like the pieces and I want other people to read them! but the disappointment of not having the thing published isn't personal, it's professional, and meanwhile I'm gaining a lot of insight into my writing just on statistics for getting a lot of rejections. I don't think that any given rejection is a reflection of me personally.

#i admit i am on the extreme end of the 'don't equate your writing to yourself' but i genuinely think that is SO important #specifically if you want to write professionally cuz like. you're gonna get rejected.#but i don't think you have to be HARDENED to that? like... i can tell based on responses which pieces are stronger than others #and which need more editing #but like. i do think you can be very emotionally invested in your writing and what you're saying and what stories you're telling #and also not take it personally when you get rejected #especially because each piece is different and individual and SMALL notably. even a whole book is NOT equivalent to You #so it isn't a full reflection on you #anyway just thinking cuz i got a rejection that genuinely made my day #like i would legit not have any way to gauge writing progress really if i was not submitting stuff #honestly i don't like telling people 'oh yeah x got rejected' cuz i always get 'aww sorry' and I'm like. i mean yeah but like oh well?#like it's not NOT disappointing to not get accepted but. cuz i would like to get stuff published not cuz i think it reflects on my worth #even like. as a writer lol.#tbh i think this is also like. a struggle with not considering how much of a thing other people see #you can write the most intensely personal story about your deepest trauma and a reader will never know. they're just reading a story.#it can be deeply affecting and still be. yanno. a story.#but also if im writing about my own shit im always abstracting it far enough that it is just like. an element of the thing.#and usually it's not even like. recognizable to me as what it originally was. it's like a transmutation.#or! it is recognizable but it's something that i didn't even recognize it as when i was writing it.#like I'm using writing as alchemy and it works so fucking great honestly #anyway I'll stop and go back to work but i had to make this post cuz i am laughing at myself for being so !!! over rejections #now. grad school rejections on the other hand. those hurt like a motherfucker lmfao #but mostly cuz 'ugh wdym i have to try again in a YEAR couldnt you just take me this time?'#whereas writing is like. cool im submitting this one piece to another three magazines as we speak.

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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 6 months

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Mine

《Part 3 for The Meetup

《Pairings:College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader

《Summary: After your successful first date, you and Eddie continue seeing each other. Things start getting more serious between the two of you.

《Warnings: fluff, smut, 90s!Eddie, mention of death but its not detailed, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, slight mocking, some size kink if you squint, spanking, dirty talk, fingering, thigh riding, cum swapping Use of a bass amp to get off. Voyeurism, cockwarming. Masturbation (male) oral (female receiving) orgasm denial. If I missed anything, please let me know nicely.

Word count: 13k

A/n: Please reblog, like, and leave a comment to support. Not proofread. Ignore any mistakes you come across.

Disclaimer: Please read parts 1 & 2 to understand the rest of the story. I also mention his mom in this part, but I wrote it way before the book spoilers were even released.

Mini series masterlist

18+ minors dni

Eddie decided he wanted to surprise you at work the very next morning after your "conversation" together. He really wanted things to progress and work out between the two of you. While you both barely know each other, there is a connection that he's been dying to have with someone for a long time. He also just really wanted to see you again before you came to his shows.

He walked through the glass door, ringing the bell, and smirked when you saw you with a customer. Eddie really loved how cute you looked in your work uniform. He overheard the customer you were dealing with at the moment complaining about how his coffee tasted too fresh. Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean he thought. Eventually, the guy gave up and just snatched up his coffee and walked away. Eddie muttered asshole under his breath as the guy was walking past him.

After the man left, you still didn't notice Eddie walking up to the counter. You threw your head down, wanting this day to be over with already. You were trying to remain as calm as possible.

"Can I get a basic vanilla latte?" He asked, clearing his throat to grab your attention.

You recognize that voice immediately and look up to see him standing there. He was once again wearing black jeans and a muscle tee with his bands faded logo on the front. His tattooed arms on full display, and you can tell he shaved this morning. "Oh, what are you doing here?"

"Well I need coffee....and I wanted to see you." He smiled, showing off his dimples.

"Also, i couldn't stop thinking about our little talk last night." He continued wiggling his brows.

You can already feel your face getting warm at the mention of what you two did.

"Shhh!, we can't talk about that..not here." You scolded him, eyes widening in panic.

"Okay fine fine not here... but I do need that latte." He leaned over a little to whisper. That cocky smirk replacing the boyish one he had just moments ago.

You put in his order and tried to busy yourself. Not paying him too much attention, as he seemed to be extra playful today. He definitely came by to poke at you a little after what you did for him. You normally wouldn't have minded if the two of you were alone together. But you are at work, and most of the customers are people from your shared campus. The thought of one of them overhearing what you and him got up to would haunt you forever.

He watched you running around behind the counter, trying to seem busier than you actually were. "So I also wanted to ask maybe if you wanna come to my place after work?"

You pause instantly when he mentions going to his place. Did you just hear him correctly? Go to his place? You must have been making a face because he quickly added on.

"We can watch a movie, and I dunno talk." He's brown eyes looking into yours, almost pleading for you to say yes. You don't know how he does it. One moment, he's sexy and confident. Then next he's shy and bashful his cheeks alway gave him away. They would turn a crimson red when he got put on the spot. You can tell this sort of thing is pretty out of his comfort zone, but he's trying his best to change that.

"Yeah sure uhh I have to go home first, though."

You moved to pick up his coffee and hand it to him when his order was finally called. "I get off at six o'clock."

"I can pick you up from your place at around seven then. It's not a problem." He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink.

Eddie started making his way to the door when you spoke up. "I don't get a terrible pun?"

He stops and turns to turns to you.

"I'm saving my best ones for tonight. " He said with a wink before exiting the coffee shop.

You watched the clock on the wall like a hawk. Counting down every minute to every second like a mad woman. Were you nervous to go over to his place? Yes. But you also were excited to go and actually hang out with him. You know he invited you to watch his band perform, but hanging out in his home felt more intimate. No one else would have his attention it would just be the two of you alone.

Once that large hand hit six, you were booking it out of there and racing home to get ready. Eddie had told you he'd pick you up by seven, so that gave you almost an hour to get yourself together. You showered and changed into some more comfortable clothes. Your roommate is still out of town, and you thanked God for that. You knew the moment she saw you racing around your house, there would be a million questions thrown your way.

You looked at the clock sitting on your dresser and it read 6:58 pm. You don't know know how punctual Eddie is as a person just yet. You stared at the clock some more, and each minute that passed felt like forever. Your heart thumps in your chest as you patiently wait for the sound of his van. When it finally turned 7pm and there still was no Eddie in sight, you started to worry a little. What if he forgot to pick you up? He never said this was a date, so maybe he decided to do something else.

7:20pm

The clock in big bold red letters reads.

You were really starting to think he wasn't going to show. Until you heard the familiar loud sound of his motor pulling up out front. You made a quick dash for the front door, grabbing your purse. Eddie wasn't even on the last step yet before you're meeting him on your front porch. "Someone is a little eager to leave."

"Oh well I..my roommate is gonna be home soon, and I didn't want her asking a thousand questions." You lied. You'd never tell him that you've actually been sitting on your bed biting at your nails watching the time go by.

"Understandable. Sorry I'm late by the way I was cleaning up my place for you." He moves his arm hooking it around yours, helping you down the stairs.

"No, it's fine. I was busy getting ready anyways," you lied again.

Eddie opened the passenger side door to his van as you got in. Jogging over the driver side, Eddie hops in to sit on the plush blue seat. This is the second time you've rode in his van, and the first time, you actually paid attention to the details. His seats were a soft blue material. He had various band stickers littering the dashboard.

The back was empty except for a few cords thrown here and there. You would guess this is what he used to pack his band equipment in. His gear shift had a silver skull with fang like teeth and red jewels for eyes. You can tell he took a lot of care and put a lot of time into his vehicle.

"How was work after I left?" He asked, turning down his music.

"It was fine a little boring but not too bad." You shrug, playing with a loose thread of your pullover.

"I hope you like scary movies because I picked out a couple from block buster." His hand moves from the gear shift to give your thigh a quick squeeze. "I love scary movies."

"Good, I got us Evil Dead 2, Halloween 4, and The Fog." He made a turn down a street you're not familiar with, but notice it's not far from your home or campus. "You pick first."

"Uh, I wanna watch The Fog first, then Halloween 4." You said, noticing the van slowing down and pulling into a parking lot of an apartment complex.

The van comes to a complete stop, and Eddie turns to unhook your seat belt. He jumps out of the driver side to open up your door, helping you out. Putting a hand to the small of your back, guiding you to the main entrance. He opens the door for you to step in first.

"Welcome to my castle." He jested with a bow.

You giggled as you made your past him to enter the building. He puts a hand to the small of your back again as he guides you up the stairs. It didn't take long before you and him were at his apartment door. His place only is just two flights up. Pulling out his keys from his leather jacket, he unlocked the door and bowed for you to enter again.

You step in and notice right away that he has tons of music equipment around. To the right of you is a large TV set on a stand facing his couch. His home is dark and cozy with dragon and skull statues almost everywhere. Metal band posters framed on his wall and black curtains covering his windows. You notice a few personal framed pictures on the wall by his TV.

There is one of him and an older man with a gray beard. A picture of him in front of a playing table with what you assumed were his friends. There was one picture that stood out the most to you. It was smaller than the rest and pretty faded. There was a woman smiling with long dark curly hair holding a very happy toddler wrapped in a towel. You can only guess that must be his mother. He also had a gold locket hanging off the frame. You wanted to ask him about the photos, specifically that one, but decided against it. There could he some not so great memories you dont want to bring up.

Eddie was digging around for the movies when he noticed you staring at his pictures.

"That's my uncle wayne." He walked up behind you, pointing at the man with the grey beard.

"And this is my old DnD club."

He reached over, taking the picture off the wall to give you a better look. "See, this is Jeff, Gareth, and Grant, who are also my band mates."

He continues on now pointing at the younger kids in the picture. "This is Henderson, who is a little shit might I add. Then we have Lucas, Erica, and Mike."

He puts the picture back on wall and turns to set up his TV and VCR.

"What about this one?" You point at the faded picture of a woman and baby. Instantly cringing when you opened your big mouth.

"That's me and my Mom." He smiles fondly at the mention of her. "She passed when I was little."

"I'm sorry, Eddie." You feel guilty for even asking.

He looks up at you. "Wanna hear the story about how I first got arrested?"

"Oh, um, sure."

He clears his throat and puts a tape in his VCR.

"Well, I was about 16, and I had just got my first guitar. So I went to her grave because I wanted to show her. I saved up all of my money that summer, too. I was working at this mechanic shop and then did little tedious jobs around town for some extra cash. Eddies smiling, but there is some sadness behind his eyes.

"So I go to her grave and pull out my guitar and brag about how I paid for it all on my own. I laid back against her headstone and strummed away on the cords. I guess I fell asleep because the next thing I knew, I was in handcuffs getting put in a police car." His eyes getting glassy at the memory. You can see he's fighting back tears.

Clearing his throat again, "and that's how I got arrested."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring anything up." You apologized as guilt was eating away at you. "Nah, it's okay. I like talking about her."

"Any who you ready to watch this movie and eat?" He exclaimed, clapping his hands wanting to change the topic.

You nod feeling a little relieved he doesn't seem upset you asked about his Mom. He runs to the kitchen to pull out two pizza boxes from his oven and sets them down on the coffee table. He gets the movie started and turns off most of the lights except for in the kitchen. You and Eddie sit back on the couch with his arm draped around you. You lean close against him to get comfy as the main title starts to roll.

There was tension again and the not bad kind either. The same kind that was present when you were together in his van on your first date. Eddie kept glancing down at you as you tried to put all of your focus in the movie. You felt his fingertips brush your skin underneath your pullover. You looked up at him and noticed his attention on the screen. He was playing innocent. It was an innocent little touch at first, but he wanted to slowly work you up.

His fingers tracing light patterns as they slowly inched their way to the waistband of your tights. His eyes still focused on the movie when you looked back up. He seemed like he didn't notice you watching him, but he did. A devilish smirk appears on his face when he sees you squirm. He inches his fingers further until they are playing with the elastic of your panties. He pulls and snaps the band back against your hip.

You try to remain focused on the movie playing in front of you. He seemed like he wasn't really aware of what he was currently doing to you. His eyes haven't left the tv since he pressed play from what you can tell. You felt his hand dipping lower and lower into your tights. His hand almost cupping your sex. You're breathing heavier, anticipating for him to keep going further down. You feel a finger trace up your slit brushing over your clit. You let out a small gasp and try to remain calm. You look back up at him and notice his eyes remain forward. You turn back to the TV, and he chuckles to himself, watching you wriggle next to him.

You spread your legs a little wider, giving him more access. He took the opportunity to rub across your clit once more before moving your panties to side. His middle finger dipped down to your opening. He groans a low hum when he feels how wet you already are for him. Your breathing increases. You want him to keep touching you. He looks down at you for moments and notices how tight you're squeezing his leg.

He bends down to whisper in your ear. "Come sit in my lap, baby."

His breath tickled your neck.

You dont hesitate not for one second. You immediately moved to lay back on his lap, letting one leg hang off the side of the couch. You can feel his hard length pressing into the curve of your ass. His hand dipped down in your panties to glide his fingers between your wet folds. You whine, laying your head on his shoulder. "I know, baby. I know. God, you're so wet already."

"Keep going." You gasp when you felt one of his fingers press on your aching clit.

"Gonna make you feel so good tonight."

Your legs already trembling, and he's barely touched you.

"I can't wait to get you all messy." He grunted when he felt you shift in his lap. Your ass grinding against him. His cock painfully hard in his jeans it's just begging to be set free.

"Shit..take these off." He pulled at your tights.

You moved to yank them down to your ankles and kicking the tights off. Your slick already soaking through the lace material of your panties. He hooks his fingers in the waistband and pulls them off you almost tearing the fabric. You're completely naked from the waist down.

You feel his middle finger dip down again and tease at your entrance. Adding another, he pushes them in, splitting you open. His fingers lazily pumping inside you. Your slick dripping down, making a small wet patch on his leg. Your clit throbbing at Eddie's continued neglect. You can't take it anymore. You move your hand slowly to rub languid circles around your sensitive bud. "Fuck that's it play with yourself."

"You're so fucking hot." He nips at your earlobe watching as your and his hand works on your pussy.

His fingers plunging deep and harder inside you. Your breathing ragid as you writhe on his lap. Your moans mix with sounds of terror blaring from his TV. You're sure his neighbors are used to it. He curved his middle and index to massage that sweet spot on your walls.

"You like that, sweetheart? " He cooed in your ear.

"Mmm!, yes!" You moan.

You can feel him smile against your neck biting down on the skin. His fingers picking up the pace as they plunge deeper inside you. Your walls getting spread open by his thick digits. Rubbing your clit faster as you feel a tightness building up in your core. Your release approaching you much too soon. Your pussy making the loudest wet sounds as Eddie's fingers spread you open. His hand getting drenched in your slick.

"My girl gettin' close?" His rasped licking the shell of your ear.

Your ass grinding down harder against him making it difficult for Eddie not to cum in his jeans.

Your bucking up your hips as your own fingers work on your aching clit. Eddie can't believe this once shy girl is now lying across his lap with his fingers buried deep in her. The sight alone was enough for him to make him cum.

Your orgasm rapidly approaching, you feel your thighs twitcing, and you close them tightly around his hand, keeping him tightly in place. You're orgasm ripping powerfully through your body. Eddie takes his other hand to push your legs back open. His long, thick fingers stretching your sensitive walls as they pulsate around him. The pads of his fingertips pruning from your wetness. Taking his other hand to push yours off to rub on your clit helping you ride out your orgasm.

"That's it baby cum for me." He praised.

Your body vibrates as you came down from your high. Your orgasm leaving you almost limp in his arms. Your legs feel numb and jello like. Eddie carefully removes his fingers from inside you. There is a comfortable silence between the two of you as your breathing evens out. The only sounds in the apartment are now the ones of pure agony coming from his TV.

"Wanna make you cum all night long." He breathed.

You look up at him, eyes slowly opening and closing.

Can you sit on my thigh for me?" He asked softly.

You carelessly nod. Your body felt like it was floating.

You sit up and slowly move to stand. Your legs wobble, and you almost fall, but Eddie catches you by the hips. He guides you to sit and straddle his thigh. You can see the imprint of his cock in his pants. You lick your lips, remembering the size of him. You sit down your bare pussy now rubbing on his pants. His hands still firmly on your hips, moving you to grind against him.

"Like this." He showed you.

You take the perfect opportunity to lick and suck at the sensitive spot under his neck, earning you a little whimper from him. Your soft lips leave a trail of kisses behind after each bite. He tries holding back another moan as your mouth continues to attack his neck. You grind harder on his thigh, rubbing yourself against him like he showed you. His fingers digging into the your ass as your pussy grinds on him. Your clit rubbing on the rough material.

He can feel your wetness soaking his leg as you grow closer to cuming again. He removes you away from his throat and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. Teeth clashing as your tongues dance together. He halts your movements on his thigh, lifting you up slightly.

"Look at that mess you’ve made." He teased. Your slick very noticeable on his dark jeans.

"Oh! Eddie. You whine loving how he seemed to be mocking you.

"W-we're supposed to be watching a movie." Your legs burning and your clit aching as you rub it faster on his leg.

"You looked scared.....thought I distract you." He sounded almost genuine. He licks a strip up your throat, making you let a small whine.

"M'not scared." You mumbled, trying to defend yourself. Eddie knew you weren't scared.

Each time you speak, every word is followed with a cry of pleasure.

Eddie laughs. "I know, you weren't. I was so scared. I had to distract myself."

He fakes a pout, gripping your ass painfully hard. His fingers digging into your skin.

Eddie pulls you back down against him roughly and moves to help you grind faster. Your chest rising and falling quickly as you feel another orgasm approaching you. You move against him rubbing your throbbing clit on his leg. You can feel that tightness in your core building up again. This time, it's approaching you stronger than the last.

"S'good." You mewled, grinding your hips back and forth.

You inhale your breath and bury your face in his neck as your second orgasm washes over you. It felt like adam was bursting open. You cum so hard on him tears leak from your eyes. Your hands grip his shoulders while he moves your hips to continue grinding on him.

"That's it cum all over me." His voice so deep and husky. You swear you could cum just by listening to him.

You rest your head on him, your body covered in sweat as Eddie rubs your back.

"You did so good." He whispered in your ear.

You sit there in his lap until you build up enough strength to move. Your mind hazy, and your vision is blury.

"Let's go to my room." He kissed your swollen lips and helped you stand.

"Okay." You move to get up, and Eddie takes you by the hand. Your legs feel weak but strong enough to still walk.

He guides you to his bedroom and opens up the door, revealing a large bed with black sheets. The room was dark except for a black light on the table next to his bed. There was a glowing green skull poster above his headboard. Eddie pulled you to the other side of the room and took your pullover off, revealing your bare breasts to him. Your nipples hardening into little peaks as the cold air hits your naked chest. He quirks an eyebrow up when he noticed you weren't wearing a bra tonight.

"Lay back for me." He asked, kissing you one more time.

You move to lay against the pillows behind you. You watch as he rummages through his nightstand, grabbing a bottle of clear liquid. He tosses it next to you on the bed and takes off his shirt. You can see the outline of his cock so prominent even in dark. Clenching your legs together, thinking about him buried inside you.

Eddie moves over to your side of the bed, taking his pants and boxers off. His pale skin glowing under the purplish lighting of his bedroom. His cock springing free and he lets out a deep sigh. "Im gonna cum on those pretty tits of yours kay?"

Biting down on your lip, you nod eagerly, waiting for him to begin.

He moves to straddle your waist and reaches over to pick up the bottle he tossed earlier. He pops the top open and squirts the clear gel on his palm. Fisting his cock rubbing the lube up and down his shaft. He brushes his thumb over the tip, smearing his precum. Eddie begins to stroke his shaft as you watch. He's pumping his cock in a slow pace watching you not taking your eyes away from him. You moved your hands to rub down his abdomen, and it was enough to send him over the edge. He lets out a strangled moan when he feels your nails scratch into his skin.

He leans over with one hand by your head, and the other still stroking his cock.

"W-wanna fuck you so bad baby." He groans above you. His face just mere inches away from yours.

Eddie's thinking back to that night you called him on his show. How your wanton moans ringed in his ears almost every night since then. He picks up the pace as he fucks his hand wishing it were you instead. The way you begged him help you cum for the first time.

He fists his cock faster lube dripping down from his palm and on your stomach. Some of it splashes on your chest from how hard he's going. His grip tightened when he heard you let out a little whimper. He's all teary-eyed and body glistening in sweat. His cock making a filthy schlick noise similar to what you heard on the phone last night.

"I wanna make you feel so fucking good." He sits back up pumping his cock so hard the veins in his forearm are now visible. His bicep flexing with every stroke.

Your hands move to grip and rub up and down his thighs. Your mouth watering as you watched his precum trickle down to his knuckles.

"You're so big, Eddie." You purred under him.

He lets out a choked sob loving when you tell him how big he is. He already knows, but hearing you say it does something to him. He's so desperate for you all he's imagined since meeting you is having you like this. Hearing you speak to him like that is almost too much to handle. How you're talking to him the same way he talks to you. The way your shyness fades away when you're alone together. He loves it.

Don't cum, Don't cum, Don't cum. His inner monologue chants. Eddie tries not to focus too much on what you're saying but fuck its hot hearing it coming from you.

"God, I'm gonna f-ffking ruin you." His voice strained from grunting so much. He's fucking himself harder to the point his arm is beginning to hurt. The chain on his wrist rattling and clanking around.

He moves up a little higher when he feels himself getting close. His hand fists his cock in a tight strong grip. His pulse quickened with each stroke. His aching cock begging to cum already. He's trying to prolong it, but he doesn't know how much longer he can hold out for.

"Need your cum Eddie." You begged digging your nails into his skin.

Rolling his eyes to the back of his head cursing under his breath. His mouth hung open as drool spilled down his chin and onto you. "Please cum on me."

"Jesus christ," He breathed. His legs almost giving out on him as he kneeled above you.

His hips thrust forward, rocking his bed against the wall. His hand tightened around him as he imagines its you. His tip leaking precum down to his knuckles. Eddie needs to cum now he can't hold it any longer. He fists his length pumping faster than before. His cock twitches in his palm, and he lets out the most animalistic groan you've ever heard. His cum shooting out and covering your tits.

He falls forward, almost landing on top of you. Your tits covered in his cum just like he imagined. Eddie sat up to admire the work he's just done on your breasts. He bends over without a second thought, licking his mess off you. His tongue lapping away until you're clean of him. Sucking and biting down on your sensitive nipples making you push your tits closer to his mouth. Eddie sat up to look at you for a moment. His mouth full of his own cum and spit. He grips your jaw with his hand firmly. Pulling your chin down until your mouth is opened wide for him. You already know have an idea of what he's about to do. You stick your tongue out far as it can go waiting for him.

Eddie spits his cum straight into your mouth getting it all over your tongue allowing you to taste him. You close your mouth, swallowing every bit you received. Enjoying the saltiness of his essence on your taste buds. "You like how I taste, huh?"

"I love the way you taste." You whisper, feeling his cum go down your throat. His taste lingering on your tongue.

"Such a good girl. You didn't waste a drop." He spoke softly, tapping your checking gently.

He moves to sit up straight against his headboard. You lay there naked, not really knowing what you should do next. Do you leave now? Does he want you to stay? Your insecurities start creeping back up. You shouldn't feel this way. He's never once made you think he didn't want to be around you.

"Fuck!..shit!" He breathed heavily laughing to himself. He notices how quiet you've gotten all of a sudden. "You okay?"

"Mhmm, yeah, I'm great." You look over at him. You weren't lying. You felt great, but there was this awkwardness that only you were feeling. You were bracing yourself to be let down and told to pick up your clothes and leave.

Eddies does the exact opposite. He isn't like that. Not with you. Most women left him afterward without a moments thought. No one ever stayed over, and he was hopeful you would. He wished at least one girl would have, and he'd wake up to them stroking his hair. He'd cook them breakfast and laugh over their food. That never happened. He went to bed alone and woke up alone.

"Want a shirt to sleep in?" He asked, bringing you out of your thoughts. His voice croaked.

"Oh, um, sure." You give him a shy smile.

Eddie did want you to stay and spend the night. He didn't want to you leave like you assumed. He runs a hand down his face, cleaning off some of the sweat, trying to gather himself a bit more. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he walks over to a chair with various discarded clothes. Picking up a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. He tosses the shirt over to you as he puts his pj's on.

The shirt is old with some holes and bleach stains. With an Iron Maiden logo plastered on the front. You throw it over your head and lay back, trying to get comfortable. "We never did eat."

"Too tired now." Your eyes growing heavy as you watch Eddie make his way back to you.

He gets back in bed, throwing the covers over you both. "Yeah, me too."

You turn so your back is facing him, sinking deeper into the mattress. His bed is warm and soft. You feel him drap and arm over you, bringing you to press up against his bare chest. You wanted to ask him something, but your mind is still foggy from earlier to recall what it was. Your body is so weak, and your legs feel like you ran a marathon. Soft snores from behind let you know Eddie has already passed out. Probably right when his head hit the pillows. You figured you'd stop over thinking things and just rest, too. You were definitely going to need it.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and no sign of Eddie. His spot cold as the sun peaks through the tiny cracks of his blinds. You move to get up and make your way through his apartment. You're still in his old Iron maiden shirt as you remembered your clothes were previously thrown around his living room and bedroom. Your face heating up when you think about what the two of you did last night. What did he to you last night. How good he made you feel and never did he make you feel guilty for anything you didn't do. He didn't pressure you into doing something you were uncomfortable with.

You make your way down the short hallway until you stop at the living room. The curtains were wide open this time allowing you to see his home better. Not only did he play guitar and collect little figurines, but he was also an artist. Multiple paintings and drawings decorating his walls with a little EM scribbled at the bottom. A pan crashing in the kitchen startles you, and you rush to see if Eddie's okay.

You run and freeze in the doorway when you notice his bare back is to you cooking at the stove. The aroma of pancakes and bacon filling your nose making your stomach growl. He was making you breakfast. No guy you've ever seen made you breakfast before. The more you're around Eddie, the faster you feel like you're falling for him. He was too good to be true, you thought. There has to be something wrong with him.

He feels you standing at the door.

"G'morning, how'd you sleep?" He smiled over his shoulder, flipping another pancake.

"I slept good, actually." You moved to sit on a barstool watching him cook.

"Yeah, me too." A grin plastered on his face, remembering last night too. He smiled fondly at the memory of you naked on his bed.

"Hope you're hungry because I made food."

Your stomach growling louder at the mention of food. You and him didn't do much eating last night. "I'm starving, actually,"

He pulls down two plates, one for you and him. You sit gazing around his apartment, waiting for him to finish up. You must have been daydreaming because the sound of glass clinking in front of you made jump almost out of your seat.

"Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He sets a couple of pancakes on your plate. Picking up a can of whipped cream, creating a little smiley face for you.

"Eat up!" Eddie looked proud of his work on your plate. "I made these special."

He moves to sit down next to you and shoves a fork full of food in his mouth. You pick at your plate a little, wanting to eat but dreading the goodbye that's soon to come.

"You're not eating." He leaned over close as he noticed not one bite of food has been taken from your plate. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"About?" He questioned, turning his attention back to the pancakes smothered in whipped cream and way too maple syrup.

"It's not important." You murmured.

You pick up your fork and finally take a bite of your pancakes. Your mood suddenly switches now that you have food in your belly. You didn't realize he had put blueberries in them. They were light and fluffy but not too sweet. The whipped cream made into the shape of a smiley face melting away.

You glance over, seeing him focused on his food, not a thought behind those eyes right now. He was mesmerized by the sugary goodness in front of him.

"I didn't know you played bass too." You commented, trying to grab his attention.

Nodding his head, he looked over and smiled. "Yep."

"I played bass in my first band, but I liked being certain of attention too much, so I opted for guitar." He joked, but you know there was some truth to that. Taking another large bite, clearing his plate of pancakes and bacon.

"Want me to play you a song before we head out for the day?"

"Sure!" You exclaimed, dropping your fork with a loud clunk.

You've never seen or heard him play before. You know you'll be seeing him soon this Wednesday, but you just can't wait that long. Even though it's only a few days away.

He hops off the barstool and heads over to pull out his equipment. "Come over here, sweetheart."

He moved this big amp to the middle of the floor and patted it while motioning for you to come sit down. You gingerly got up as your legs still feel a little wobbly. You plop your butt down on the amp. "Ah ah, straddle it."

"Please."

There was a devious glint in his eyes.

You look at him confused but move, so each of your legs is on either side of the amp. He walked over, plugging in his bass and messing with the nobs on the Amp. He looked at you for a split second a sly grin appearing on his face. You're still confused about what he's up to, but you know he's up to something.

"Good girl." He bent over kissing the side of your head. "Gonna play my pretty girl a song before she starts her day."

You sit there all smiles while you watch him get everything set up. Maybe he is innocent time and isn't up to something. But you've seen that grin one too many times, and you've only just met.

"I'm gonna play you a personal favorite of mine." He plucked the string slightly, testing to see if the amp was on properly.

"Song is Orion by the way." He winked.

He begins plucking away at the cords and watches you intently. The amp in between your legs starts coming to life and rattle with vibrations. Your legs twitch, and you move to stand up, but Eddie shoots you a look, and you sit right back down. Your breath hitches the faster he starts to play. You try to remain focused on him, but the faster he plays, the more intense the amp vibrates.

"This is my favorite part to play." He raised his voice a little so you can hear him.

The song calms down just a little, making the amp die down. You exhale a deep breath, thinking it was over. Your clit throbs between your legs from Eddie's previous abuse last night.

"How you feeling, baby?" He asked, knowing the song was about to pick up speed again.

You stifle a moan. "I'm good."

"Grind on it like you did my leg." He commanded, shooting you a stern look.

He's never spoken or looked at you like that before. He sounded almost domineering, and you won't lie. You liked the way it made you feel.

"That's it, you're so good." His fingers steadily working on the bass slung over his chest.

You do as you're told and rock back and forth on the amp. The song picking up more speed, and you feel that coil in your tummy getting tighter. Your legs trembling as you struggle to do as you're told. Your body telling you to stand up and get off but the need to cum was too over powering. He picks at the strings harder and faster. "Oh fuck!"

"E-Eddie, I can't please....i-its too much," you pleaded. Your clit still sore from last night it felt almost bruised.

"You can. Just relax." He reassured.

You nod your head and focus while the vibration on your core intensified. You rock your hips, grinding down on his amp. Each pluck of the strings as the song changes tempo makes your whole body tremble. The song is coming close to an end, and soon, the closer you are to your release.

"Mmmfph! I'm gonna cum." You moan loud over the music.

"I know, baby!" He yelled back over the music.

You ride the amp harder and faster as your release approaches. With a sharp intake of breath, as another orgasm washes over you, sending shockwaves throughout your body. You almost topple over on the floor, but Eddie quickly rushes to catch you. "I got you, don't worry."

He set his bass down on the floor, holding on to your arm with one hand. He carefully helps you to your feet, and your legs almost give out. "You okay?"

"I'm okay, yeah." You panted.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah, just warn me next time." You playfully swatted at his chest.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I had to make sure I'd be on your mind all day." He laughed, walking you down the hallway. He turned to see the very noticeable sticky mess you left behind.

He helped you to the bathroom, letting you get washed up before you both got dressed to head out. He mentioned how he has class, but he'd love for you to listen to his show tonight. You never told him you do that almost every time he was on air. Day dreaming about meeting him. You had class too during the same hours as him so you couldn't grab lunch like he'd suggested. Which is fine. You'll be seeing him in a few days anyway. You are going to miss him, though. You had fun and truth be told you didn't want to stay again. He didn't want you to leave either. If he could lock you up in this apartment with him, he would. No hesitations. Just the two of you alone together.

Eddie gave you a ride home so you can put on some clean clothes. He gave you one long kiss before you hopped out of his van.

"I'll see you Wednesday." He gave a wink before pulling off.

Wednesday came a lot slower than you wished for it to. You tried to keep yourself occupied with work and class. Wishing the time flew by fast like the last time, but it didn't. Those last few days leading up to his performance seemed to drag a long. You just wanted to see Eddie and be with him. You already planned tonight was the night.

You planned your outfit and makeup. Already having your dress hanging up on your closet. Eddie had offered to come pick you up and take you to the bar, but you declined since you didn't know how long it would take getting ready. You'd planned to run straight home after work and not waste any time. Of course, things didn't go exactly to plan because you had to work almost an hour past when you're supposed to clock out. You pleaded to your manager that you have to leave soon. You had plans. Very, very important plans.

Finally, you were able to leave, and you sprinted home grateful you lived very close by. Busting through your front door, almost knocking down the pictures on your wall on the way to your bedroom. You were already extremely late to see him as is. You know his band already started their first song, and you hope Eddie doesn't notice your absence.

You threw on your dress that was much shorter than the last one he saw you in. You chose to wear heels again, knowing you were probably going to trip at some point tonight. You regret not taking Eddie up on his offer to drive you to the Hideout. Racing out the door and down the street into town. Now was a good time to regret not owning a car. Your feet are already killing you on the pavement. Luckily, the bar is right near campus as well. You're already cringing at the blisters that will be on your toes by tomorrow.

Flashing red signs and loud music fill your ears. You can see the bar on the far right corner of the busy street. Cars line up down the road as they make their to the same destination as you. Some of the people you can recognize from class or the coffee shop. Entering the bar, you can hear Eddie before you even see him. He's already thanking everyone for attending tonight. He told you his sets aren't long, only about forty minutes since other bands play there too. He begrudgingly has to share the stage.

You guess he was on his second to last song by the time you arrived. You felt terrible missing half of his show. You didn't expect to work so late, particularly on a Wednesday evening. You were a little taken back by the number of people out mid week.

You see him at last up on stage in far back. The bar is a lot bigger than you imagined. You're struggling to get closer to the stage. There is a tiny corner close to him that's empty you noticed. Your feet in pain and with people stepping on them as you push past, you won't be surprised if they're not bleeding yet. You almost have to force your way over there. You didn't expect this many people to show up. The Hideout was also the only bar closest to everyone, so obviously, they'd all gather here. Eddies band was also very popular with the local metalheads.

You finally reached the small little empty corner near him. You have a good view of the side stage and audience. You see him singing and thrashing away on his guitar. His hair is down and sticks to his neck. The chain hanging around his neck now tangled. His shirt is drenched in beer and sweat. Not his beer. Some guy apparently threw a drink on him earlier from what you manage to overhear from people in the crowd. They were applauding how Eddie threw the guy off the stage.

You look over and notice almost a sea of women in the front. Well, not exactly a sea of women but a very good amount of them. One too many for your liking. They're all make bedroom eyes at him and flashing their tits. You feel something coming over you as you watch them take off their bras and throw it on stage. You noticed one tied up and hanging from his mic stand. Were you jealous or angry? You're not sure, but you dont like how you feel. You watched him look at them and no one else. If you weren't jealous before, you sure as hell are now. Eddie was yours. There was this burning feeling in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to leave but not without him.

His set was coming to an end as he announced the last song Corroded Coffin would be performing tonight. You wanted to move so he could see you, but it's too late. A huge mob rushed to the front stage. People jumping up there with him to head bang. More articles of clothing are thrown his way. You lean up against the brick wall behind you, trying to calm down. Your nerves are all worked up not only from the girls but also from the number of people here tonight. You're not used to large crowds like this.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming to see us tonight. we're Corroded coffin." Eddie announced in the mic.

He moves to leave the stage and almost walks right past you. He doesn't notice you at first with his head hanging low.

"Eddie!" You yelled, trying to get his attention and grab his writs.

His head quickly pops up, looking to see who just grabbed him. His face softened when he saw it was you. "Hey, you came. Follow with me."

He intertwined his fingers with yours, leading you backstage. Eddie gave quick hi's and byes as you tagged along. It was much brighter back there with dingy white walls that had graffiti all over them. Different bands signing each brick signifying they played there. You overheard his other members discussing whose car would be moving the equipment back to Gareth's place. Eddie drags you down various different corridors until he's pulling you in a private bathroom.

"You like the show?" He asked, turning on the faucet to wash his hands and face off.

"Yeah, you were great." You still had this jealous feeling in your stomach. You felt build the more you tried to drown it out.

He turns off the water and walks over to you. You back away until you couldn't anymore. Eddie eyes at what you're wearing, licking his lips. Your dress is barely covering anything at all. "You look nice."

"Thank you." You whispered.

He bends down to give you a heated kiss. His lips crash onto yours. You open your mouth to breathe, and that's when he sneaks his tongue in. His hands creeping grip your ass over your dress. His kiss is intoxicating as his tongue explores your mouth. You melt into him.

He breaks away. "Need to take you home."

He's panting heavy pupils already blown out with lust.

"I wanna go to your place."

He pulls you away from the door, grabbing your arm and making a bee line for the exit.

"Don't you have to help pack up?" You try to keep up with him as your heels scrap the floor.

"They're fine."

You don't what possessed you, but the moment you got him alone in his van, your hands and lips were all over him. Reaching over to rub his semi hard cock over his pants while he tries to focus on the road. You can feel him hardening under your palm.

"S-sweetheart, come on, wait just a few minutes. He pleaded, feeling himself getting harder. His cock straining painfully on the zipper of his jeans. "We're almost there."

You lean over closer sucking and biting his neck, earning you a groan. You move your hand slowly down his abdomen until it reaches his belt. You unbuckle and undo the button to his pants. His eyes trained on the road a head. Both hands tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles are almost turning white.

"Oh god." He rasped when he felt your hand slip past his boxers.

His chest heaving and his jaw clenches. You were acting very bad right now. You know you should stop. You know doing this kind of thing can be dangerous. You just couldn't wait to have him any longer.

"W'nna gag on your cock Eddie." You smile biting your lip.

You continue teasing and rubbing his length. "Can you fuck me tonight?" He's so thick your hand can barely wrap around it. You're salvating, remembering how you struggled to fit him all in your mouth.

He coughed, choking on his spit when you heard you. He doesn't know what's gotten into you tonight, but he is not complaining.

You remove your hand from his pants and give the side of his mouth a quick peck. You move back to your seat and put your seat belt back on. You let him drive peacefully until he gets to his apartment building. He looks to the buldge in his pants and back to you. He's mad. Mad that you teased him like this and then just left him.

"Just wait until I get you inside." Eddie's eyes never leaving the road to look at you. His jaw clenching.

You squeeze your thighs together, getting turned on at what he's planning on doing to you. You don't know why, but you like seeing him get mad.

He speeds up when he sees his building ahead. You need him bad tonight. You can still taste him on your tongue. The screeching of tires coming to a complete stop, letting you know you've arrived at his place. Eddie wasted no jumping out the driver side and practically pulling you out of the van. He leads you inside with your arm still in his grip.

His lips are all over you as you're heading up the stairs to his apartment. You both tripped over one another, making your way up each step. His hands are running all over your body. From your ass and thighs to your tits. There wasn't a place he wasn't touching you. He just wants to throw you on his bed and rip that dress off from your body. Spread you open and have you begging him not to stop.

You don't even recall how you made it inside his apartment. You kick your shoes off and strip him of his shirt. Your lips are on his in a feverish kiss. He backs you up against the couch, your ass hitting the arm.

"Turn around." His mumbles as you bite at his bottom lip.

You break away to look at him, confusion written all over your face.

"I said, turn. around." He instructed in a demanding like tone.

You do as you're told and turn around. His naked chest pressed against your back. You can feel his hard cock pressing into the swell of your ass. "You were a bad girl back there."

"I think you need a good spanking, hm?" His mouth was right by ear as he whispered seductively. He moves his hand to give you a swift slap on your ass. You yelp when you felt him.

Your nipples harden through your dress. His hands are feeling up your legs. His fingers tips goasting over the skin of your thighs. He goes to remove your panties when he noticed you're not wearing any.

"Oh," He marveled, lifting up your dress. He tsks, shaking his head. "You're being so bad tonight." He's taunting you. Playing with you a little. Wanting to rile you up before giving you what you want.

He moves from behind you to sit down on the couch.

"Over my lap." He sounded frustrated he had to do this, and you liked it. His sudden dominance with you. A complete contrast to the Eddie you're used to.

You move to lay across his lap. You shiver with anticipation, waiting for him to spank you for the first time. Hopefully, it won't be the last you thought to yourself.

He hand pulls back, and with no warnings, he smacks you hard on the ass. You gasp and jolt forward. He doesn't give you time to adjust before doing it again and again. Your ass stinging from the impact his palm was making. His hand is an angry red shade from how hard he's going.

You don't know if you were supposed to count or not, but if you had to guess, you'd say he's given you five so far. Tears spilling down your face ruining your makeup. "Aww, you crying? No crying baby, you deserve this."

"You did this to yourself now. Take it like a good girl." Eddie sighed. He swats you again for the eigth time. "Could have gotten us hurt back there.

"Can't have my pretty girl gettin' hurt." He spoke gently to you. He was right. You shouldn't have done that.

Eddie, stops to check in on you. Not wanting to push you past any limits.

"You gonna be my good girl?" His hand smoothing over your very sore cheeks.

"M'sorry I'll be good." You sniffle. It hurt, but you liked it. The wetness pooling between your legs every time his hand connected to your ass.

He lifts up your dress, exposing your bare ass to him. His fingers moving to tease at your opening. Your slick running down your inner thighs.

"Someone enjoys getting spanked, I see." He mocked, slowly pushing two fingers in your entrance.

"Mmhm y-yes I like it." You mewled, feeling his fingers working you open. You let out a high-pitched squeal, feeling him curving them upwards. His thick fingers plunging in your pussy. You grip a tight hold on his thighs while his fingers are busy thrusting into you.

"Bedroom...now," He commanded in a stern voice, ripping his fingers from you with a loud wet pop as they make their leave. A long string of your slick connecting the two of you together. Eddie brings the two digits to his mouth, cleaning them off.

That's all you had to hear before leaving him alone. You strip yourself of your dress, throwing it to the floor as you sit at the edge of the bed waiting for him. His room is exactly how he left it the last time you were stayed. Your ass still stinging from his hand.

Eddie walked through the doorway of his bedroom. He's jeans discarded somewhere in his living area. He walks over and towers over you.

"You really want to do this?" He asked, making sure you were absolutely ready.

"Yes... I need you." You pleaded.

You desperately needed him. You can't go much longer without having him inside you. You felt like you were going to go insane. He's looking down at you with a soft gaze in his eyes. You felt safe. You always have with him.

He pulls his boxers down, letting his cock spring free. Eddie crawled over top of you until you were flat on your back. He reached down between your legs to tease at your opening some more, wanting to get you ready for him. You spread your legs wider, giving him more access.

Eddie hums at the sight of you spread out for him. Only him. Your pussy glistening in the dim light of his bedroom and it takes all his strength to not just fuck you right then. He sinks down to his knees and yanks you down roughly so your ass is hanging off the edge of the mattress. He spits down on your pussy before spreading your folds apart with his tongue. You sigh feeling his warm tongue lapping at your clit. Your legs hanging over his shoulders. The little stumble starting to grow on his chin, tickling your folds. It was too much.

You gripped and clawed at the sheets on the bed beneath you. Eddie puts one finger to your entrance and pushes in until it disappeared. He curved his middle finger upward pumping it in your pussy rubbing at that spongey spot on your walls. You grip his hair as his mouth works on your clit. He grunts against you, making your whole body quiver. Eddie is going at you like a man starved. His mouth never lets up for one second. His eyes closed as he got lost in your taste. Savoring every drop of your slick on his tongue.

Your legs try to close around his head, and he grips one tightly, pushing it away. Your hips lifting as you're writhing around feeling your orgasm building. Eddie can feel you getting close when your walls clenched and pulsed around his finger. His plump lips sucking at your clit harder. You were almost there. So close and just as you were about to cum. Eddie stopped suddenly removing his mouth from you and pulling his finger away. Your walls still pulsating as he denied you of your orgasm. His face was shiny and covered in your juices. He looks up giving you an amused look.

You frown at him, knowing he’s messing with you for what you did to him in the van.

"Why'd you stop? I was so close." You almost wanted to cry. "I need you...I just wanna cum p-pleeease make me cum."

You'd do anything at this point to have him inside of you. Your pussy was practically crying for his cock to nestled deep inside you.

"My girl wants me to fuck her?" He whispered with a sultry tone. "Is that it?"

"Yeah," you replied. your voice barely above a whisper.

"Aww baby, don't cry." Eddie cooed, noticing the sad look on your face after what he just done. He wasn't going to deny you anymore. How could he when you're looking at him like that.

You nod your head slowly. "Need it so so so bad."

"Gonna have you feelin' so full." He sits up aligning his cock on top of your pussy. Showing you how far in he's going to be.

"Look at that...look how deep I'm going to be." He's so hard for you. Feels like with just the slightest touch you give him, he could explode on the spot.

You squirm under his gaze, arching your back, waiting as patiently as you possibly could. You know he's going to go about this slow. He's going to be extra careful with you. He's going to tease and taunt you because he wants to here you beg for it. He holds the base of his cock slapping it against your sore clit. Getting his precum on your wet folds. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your face feels all fuzzy and warm.

"Don't tease me anymore." You whine, stifling a moan when the head of his cock dips down to your entrance. He pushes just a few inches in parting you open. Your eyes fluttering closed when you get a little taste at what's to come.

Eddie doesn't stay for long he removes himself teasing your clit with his tip. Rubbing your juices and his precum all over your sore bud. You thrash and grip a hold of his sheets. Your walls clenching around nothing again as they're so ready to be stretched open by him. Each time his tip pushes at your opening, you feel that coil in your belly creeping back up. You were on the verge of cuming just moments before he denied the chance. You know the second his cock sinks in you won't be able to hold it.

He rubs his cock up and down nudging your clit with his leaking tip over and over again. Your slick drenching his length. He thought he was going to need to use his lube, but that doesn't seem to be the case tonight. Your pussy is drenched with your juices. You were more than ready for him. Eddie just enjoyed getting you worked up. Hearing your sweet little cries anytime he gets his cock close enough to your opening. The way your legs squeeze around him, trying to keep him from moving away. How your eyebrows squint together and you bite down hard on your bottom lip. "Eddieeee," your whiny and breathy sobs make him almost take pity on you. Almost.

"Eddieeee," He repeated back, mocking the same pout you have on your face.

He drags his cock through your wet folds repeatedly making a lewd wet schlick noise.

" You're bein' mean,' you whine, tears spill down your face again. Mascara and eyeliner ruined in the process.

He stops that cocky grin reappearing on his face. "Is that so?"

You nod, not daring to say a word back. You're getting impatient with him. He's been working you up for what felt like hours now. Your clit throbbing and sore even with the slightest brush of his head making your breath hitch. His precum and your juices smeared all over your pussy. You assumed he's felt a little bad for you, when he starts to slowly pushing the tip of his cock through your entrance. Truth be told he could do this all night long if he wanted.

Eddie stills for a moment, only letting his tip split you open. Your head falls back against the pillows. Finally, you thought, but your relief was cut short when he removed it again. You huff in frustration and let the neediest whimper he's ever heard. Eddie relentlessly teasing your pussy as he slides his length through your folds. Slapping and nuding your clit with his length. Your body all sticky with sweat. Everytime his cock hit your tender neglected clit you begged and pleaded to him. You're teetering on the cusp of an orgasm and he doesn't seem to want to let you. Not right now, at least. He just keeps building it up only to rip you of the chance.

Your face twisting in a grimace. Why does he keep teasing you? You already learned your lesson. You were beginning to think he wasn't going to give you what you wanted after all.

"God!, you're so!-" Your sentence cut short when he licks his fingers and slaps your pussy just hard enough to shut you up. You gasped more so from shock.

The pain and pleasure mixed together was something you never thought you'd enjoy until tonight.

You instantly calmed down.

"Theeere she is." He purrs, pushing his thumb in your mouth as you instinctively suck on it wishing it was his cock.

"Ya ready for me?."Eddie asked, aligning himself back up at your entrance. He removes his thumb, allowing you to speak. A string of spit connecting you to him.

"m'ready." You rasped.

You feel the head of his cock right by your opening. "Oo!, yes, I'm--im ready." Your body burning with desire to feel him. To finally have him.

His thick tip gingerly splitting you open. Eddie getting just a few inches deeper than the last time, but it was enough to almost make you scream. He pauses to put both of his hands on each side of your head.

"Good....because I'm gonna make sure you can't walk in the morning." His assured speaking low.

You knew he was serious about that. You and Eddie have been yearning for one another for so long. You just know the moment he's inside of you, it is going to take all of his strength not to lose total control. You look into his eyes, pleading for him to give you more. You want it all. You need it all. You don't care how sore you're going to be tomorrow. Your brain clouded by lust and the need to be fucked by him.

Eddie pushes in a little more and dips his head to bite down hard on your shoulder. Your hands moving to tug at his hair. The feeling of you tightening up around him as he breaches past your opening was almost too much for him to handle. He can't cum. Not yet. He's just getting started. Eddie tries to focus on anything else. He's talked a big game to you up until this point. He needs to last, but you just feel so good. You're so wet and warm. You hug him just right, and he's not even all the way in yet. You're perfect.

"More." You begged, not knowing Eddie was keeping still for a particular reason.

"Patience baby, gimme a sec." He exhaled a long breath before kissing your shoulder where his teeth marks now were. "Tryin not to cum."

"Shit!, you're ju-just so fucking tight." He grunted.

You didn't know you were having this type of effect on him. You won't lie it feels nice knowing that. You lean up to kiss him. Your lips lazily press to his. You were soft and delicate with him. You moan in his mouth when you feel him pushing in a little deeper.

He breaks away, resting his forehead against yours. His breathing is ragged. He's sinking in inch by inch agonizingly slow. Trying to let you accommodate him. "You're so good, you know that?"

"S-so mmmfph, so good-- jus' for me." Eddie stammered. His jaw tightening.

"Jus' for you." You murmured against his lips.

"Yeah?" Only me?" Eddie questioned his tongue sneaking out to lick your parted lips.

You felt light-headed. Your mind clouded with so much lust. Every touch and kiss from him was deliberate and sensual. From the way he spoke to you to the way he caressed every curve of your body. You've never been touched this way. No one's ever made you feel this like before. There wasn't an inch of skin where his lips and hands hadn't been.

"Only you." You're breathless.

Eddies wild hair fell over his shoulders. His chain dangling by your face.

The events leading up to this moment were almost too good to be true, you both thought. The phone call. The coffee shop run in. The date. Everything felt surreal. Yet here you are together. He relished in how trusting you were of him so quickly.

Eddie kept pushing himself further inside of you until he was almost bottoming out completely. You wince slightly at the sudden stretch and size of him. "It's okay, relax for me." Eddie coaxed you as he tenderly rubbed at your side, helping you relax. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to get adjusted to his size some more. "I-I can take it...fuck, don't stop."

"Oh, is that so?" Eddie taunted.

"Ya sure I'm not too big for you?"

Swiftly shaking your head no. " jus' please Eddie."

You let out another whine, bucking up your hips. His taunting coming to a full stop when he pushes his cock in a little deeper.

"Goddamn, you're tight," He said through clenched teeth. His nostrils flaring.

Eddie carefully pulls out, leaving just the tip in. Only to slam back inside you, bottoming all the way out this time, letting out a long moan as he did. His length stretching your walls, hitting all the right spots. You've never been this full ever. He felt like he was in your stomach. He starts thrusting into you at a steady pace helping your pussy get warmed up to him.

His bed squeaked with every thrust he gave. He pulls his cock almost all the way out and glides it back in with so much more ease now. You're making the prettiest little noises for him. Your nails scratching over his over broad shoulders and down his back. "Mmm, Eddie, you feel so good."

"G'nna cum inside you." He grunted.

"F-fill you up...get you so full of me." He's blabbering, not really paying attention to what he's saying. "Want, ooh shit!-"

His words cut short when he felt your walls squeezing him. His hips rocking harder against yours. You can feel his balls slapping against your ass. The soft curls between his legs getting soaked in your juices. "Need your cum in me pleeease."

"Don't stop, Eddie!" Your throat burns the louder you called out his name. His cock rubbing that spongey spot on your walls just right. You can't think straight anymore he feels amazing.

His jaw clenches, and you can hear his teeth gritting together. "Ya need it that bad, huh?"

"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna give it all to you." Eddie panted his voice raspy.

"You dirty girl." Eddie tried to tease again. He sounded like he was about to lose his voice."S'needy, begging for my cum."

You let out a loud whiny moan when he rolled his hips. His cock hitting a new angle on your walls. He moves to pin your wrists down beside your head. A shiver sends down your spine when he looked into your eyes. He's rough but gentle all at the same time.

Your juices, so creamy coating felt like his cock was drowning in it. His balls and pelvis now completely saturated. The both of you moaning in unison. He pulls his hips far back, slamming them against yours roughly. Your pussy making the loudest pornographic noises as Eddie continued pumping his cock inside you. The sound of skin slapping echoes off his bedroom walls.

"Oh my god!" You cry out.

He grips your wrists tighter, and you feel like your hands are going numb. Your bodies glistening with beads of sweat. "M'getting s'close."

The coil in your belly tightens the faster your orgasm approaches you again. Eddies cock pumping in your pussy at an almost brutal pace. Your breasts bouncing in his face as he pounds you in his mattress. "Gettin close too, baby."

"Gettin reeeeal fuucking close." Eddie grumbled as his hips rammed against yours.

Eddie, let's go of one of your wrists to snake it down and play with your clit. His calloused fingers rubbing tight circles on your aching bud. Your pussy clenching around his length.

"Fuuucking, christ." He cursed under his breath.

Your orgasm approaching you rapidly. His skilled fingers pressed down harder as he rubbed your clit. You throw your head back, exposing your neck to him. Eddie takes the opportunity to bite and suck on the tender skin. Your vision goes black, and there is a ringing in your ears. Your head is blank it felt like time stood still. You cum around his cock hard. Your orgasm hitting you in waves. Your legs shake violently around his waist.

Eddie stops thrusting for a moment to watch you come undone. "That's it. That's my good girl cum all over my cock."

"That'a girl." He praised as your orgasm left you unable to speak for some minutes.

He starts rocking his hips into yours. Your head is cloudy as you come down from your high. Your clit still throbbing and your walls still pulsating as your release fades away. Eddies thrusts are getting sloppier as his orgasm is quickly approaching him. Your pussy squelching louder when his cock glides in and out of you. The sound ringing in your ears. His sheets are an absolute mess from you.

"I-i gon-...I'm gonna cum." He moans fumbling over his words. His cock twitched and with a few more powerful thrusts he's spilling hot ropes of cum deep within you coating your walls. He doesn't stop pumping his cock until he's milked himself of every drop.

He collapses all of his weight on you. The two of you lay like that for a brief couple of minutes. You felt him easily remove himself from you, and you frown at the loss. His cum mixed with yours dripping out of your opening and onto his bed. Your entire body felt weak. His face flushed a light pink, making the freckles on his cheeks more noticeable.

Eddie sits up and moves from on top of you. He reaches over to grab a pre rolled joint and light it.

"Shit." He whispered to himself.

He brings the joint to his dry lips and takes a long puff. "Want some?"

"No thanks." You declined still feel dizzy, almost drunk like.

"Wanna take a bath together?" He takes a few more puffs before putting his joint out in the ash tray. The weed mellowing him out.

"Yeah... but I can't. I don't think I can walk." You confessed. Your legs still trembling from earlier.

He smiles proudly. "Here, lemme help."

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Eddie walked over to you, helping you stand. Your face heating up when you felt his cum sliding down your legs. "I should probably change these sheets, too."

Eddie helps you to his bathroom and sits you on the toilet while he gets the water ready.

"Come on, lets you in." He takes your hand and gently helps raise your legs over the tub, so you don’t fall.

You sat back and hummed, feeling your muscles relax immediately. Eddie gets in behind you and brings your back to lay on his chest. The warm water soothing you both as you clean each other. You feel like you could fall asleep right here if he let you.

"Hey, I'm gonna go change the bed you stay here." He gave you a long, passionate kiss before getting out of the bath.

You watched him put a towel around his waist and leave. You take the opportunity to clean off your face of whatever makeup was left. Hugging your knees to your chest, you feel sleep slow creeping up on you.

Eddies loud voice echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom startles you awake. "Let's get you dried off."

Your legs much stronger now than they were before. There was a small ache between your legs where he was once buried. You try to ignore it for the time being but you know you're really going to feel it in the morning.

Eddie gives you one of his sweaters to wear, so you'll keep warm. Your dress from earlier discarded somewhere amongst the mess. You jump back into bed next to Eddie. Nestling yourself under his arm curling up in his side. The damps ends of his hair dripping little droplets of water down his chest.

"So, uhh, what got into back there in the van?" He spoke out of nowhere.

"Hmm?" You faked like you didn't just hear him.

"You heard me."

Pushing your face in his side, trying to hide from him.

"What was that?" He jested, putting his hand behind his ear as if he didn't hear you the first time.

"I SAID! I got a little jealous. You huffed.

"Jealous? Of what?" He was in utter disbelief.

"The girls at your show...and that stupid bra on your mic stand." You sit up, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Oooh, my god!" He belly laughs.

"It's not funny." You argued, squinting your eyes at him. A hint of a smile dancing on your lips.

"You're right. It's not funny." He chuckles. His hand goes to cover his mouth, hiding his smile.

".....next time they throw their bras at me, I'll just sling shot them back."

"Thank you! That's all I'm asking for." You exclaimed dramatically.

He snorts, pulling you back against him to cuddle. You spent the rest of the night joking and making fun of one another lovingly. He admitted he should make you jealous more often if it gets you to act like that. That was quickly disregarded when you shot him a very dirty look.

It's been a full year since that night. Eddie and you became inseparable. He's since graduated from college and got a good gig as a radio disc jokey for a local radio station. The concept of the show was almost the same, but there were some few minor changes. His "adult segment" got watered down to be more radio friendly. Eddie hated the censorship but figured once he made a bigger name for himself, he wouldn't worry about that stuff anymore.

You were in your last semester of college when Eddie finished. He asked you the moment he got his offer if you wanted to work with him and be his assistant. Not passing up that opportunity to spend more time with him. You said yes with zero hesitations.

"Come on, let me show you our studio." Eddie dragged you into a room filled with various mics and a desk. There was a light above him with glowing orange letters reading "On Air."

The last time you saw him, this excited about anything was when his old friends came to watch him walk across the stage. You didn't think you could be more proud. His eyes lighting up when he showed you the name plate on the door. "That's my name, babe." He tapped on the wooden door.

Tonight was his first show at his new studio. He was nervous but knew most of his listeners were still the same. You sat on the chair next to him. Your short tennis skirt hiking up at little. Eddie kept turning to glance at you while he read from a script. When he would cut to commercial break, his hand would wander up your thigh. You squeezed them shut and smacked him away.

"We can't do that, not now." You whisper yell at him.

"Who says? Who's gonna know?" He whispered back.

He bites his lip and groans. "Baby, I've been needing you all day."

"Sit in my lap. I'll behave." He pats his thighs giving you an innocent smile.

You knew better, but move to sit on his lap anyway. Your skirt lifted and showed the lace of your panties to him as you sat down.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard when we get home. He promised.

Your eyes widened when you felt his semi hard cock pressing against your ass.

"Ya know what, since you've been teasing me, I think I'm gonna tease you." He said, lowly licking the shell of your ear. One of his large hands running up your thigh to cup your sex.

"B-but I'm not." You tried to defend yourself.

"You are, you know how I get when you wear this." He picks up the hem of your tennis skirt. You do know how he feels about the it. He bought the article of clothing for you for a reason. He never could keep his hands off you when you wore it.

Eddie couldn't keep his hands off you, period, but the skirt wasn't helping.

The ads were still playing over the radio when Eddie suggested for you to announce the next song coming up after his brief segment.

"Wait, I have a much better idea." Eddie leaned to unbuckle his belt and pull the zipper of jeans down. "Lift up for sec."

You lean forward to lift up off his lap. Your ass is almost on full display. The only thing keeping you from him was the sheer material of your panties. You can hear him groan before running a finger along your covered slit. A wet patch already forming very noticeably. "I can't wait to get you home, but this will do for now."

He pulls his cock out from his pants stroking it before running his thumb over the leaking tip. He slaps and rubs it between your covered folds as you lean a little over his desk. He presses down on the head and hisses. You thought he was going to jerk off until he was back on the air, but you were dead wrong.

Eddie pulls your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to him. He slaps his tip at your opening from behind, dipping it in ever so slightly before pulling it away. Your jaw dropping open when you felt his tip nudging in your entrance. Your palms sweating on top of his desk, as you're feeling him part you open. The head of his cock shining with your slick. You can hear him groaning again with frustration that he can't fuck you the way he wants. "Sit on it."

"Wh- now! Right now?" You panicked.

"People are listening, Eddie." You tried to argue, but he shook his head.

"So? That's never stopped you before." He had a point. A very good point. You don't even need to turn around to see the smug, expression on his face. "Come on baby, I just w'nna feel you."

"Okay." You spoke softly, giving in to him.

You help hold his length as he aligns himself up with your opening. You slowly sink down on his length, taking him all in a few inches at a time. You sit down fully on him. He feels so deep this way. Eddie grips your hips to hold you perfectly still. He leaned back in his chair to get relaxed as his segment was about to begin. His eyes are half lidded. Eddie's already struggling not to cum and you haven't even done anything yet. His cock nudging at that sweet spot on your walls. "Ooh!, c-can you just push up a little."

"I-i can't take staying so still...its-" You pleaded. You would do all the work yourself while he continues on with his show if meant you could feel his cock stroking your walls.

He cuts you off.

"Shh, no." He quietly told you, covering his mic up his mic as the show was now starting.

"Alright, every b-body." Eddie tried reading his introductions but stumbled over his words when you purposely clench around his cock.

He shot you a look from behind. You were definitely going to pay for that one. You fidget in his lap, rocking your hips from side to side.

"If you don't keep still I'm gonna bend you over this desk and fuck you live on air." He warned, and you stopped moving straight away.

Was he serious? He couldn't be. You thought to yourself, but if you only saw his face right now, you'd know he was being dead serious.

He cleared his throat. "Alright, everybody, before we get started, my lovely girlfriend here is gonna announce the next song."

"Aren't ya." He thrusts up hard with no warning, making you gasp in the mic. His cock nestled so deep within you. You cover your mouth to keep from moaning out loud.

"Mmhmm y-yep." You knew these next couple of minutes were going to be torture. Absolute torture for you.

You take a long, deep breath.

"The next song....up...is Man in a box." Your voice shakey. Your hands squeeze Eddie's thighs. He's grinding you in his hips and bucking up. You bite back another moan, trying to escape your lips.

"Ah, no honey, that's not the right song. we just heard that one." Eddie's mocking you now. He knows how hard it is for you to keep quiet, and he's doing everything in his power to get you to break.

"Baby, you're being too obvious they're gonna know." Eddie thrusts his hips harder, shaking the desk. A soft moan escapes your lips. You try to play it off and clear your throat. You can feel Eddie laughing behind you. His chest vibrated as he watched with amusement.

You're trying to so hard not make anything noticeable. The people listening have probably caught on by now, you're sure of it.

He leans forward to show you were to read.

"Here, baby." He pointed on the script laying in front of you.

"O-oh, right, my mistake." You swallow hard.

His cock hitting a new angle every time he bucks up. Your head felt dizzy. Your slick making a mess of him and you. You're getting so close to cuming. Your walls so sensitive as your boyfriends cock spreads you open.

You breathe out and read what's on the piece of paper in front of you.

"Focus." He whispered at you.

You nodded rapidly.

"The next song is by the band The Pixies called Here c-comes your man." You squealed that part out when Eddie's hand lifted up your ass and slammed you back down. He smashed his face in your back to cover up any grunts he might make.

He squirms around his chair, holding you tightly to his lap. He lifts you off him the moment he felt your pussy flutter on his thick cock. He knows he wont be able to resist fucking you. Eddie most definitely knows you won't be able to keep quiet much longer either. You whimpered, feeling empty. You were so close, and he didn't let you finish.

"Be a good girl and I'll let you cum later." Eddie struggles to tuck his cock back in his pants with a satisfied grin plastered on his face. There's an aching throb between your legs.

"Promise?" You sit back next him in your chair. Disappointment written all over your face.

"I promise." He pouted right back at you, sticking out his bottom lip.

There were many times Eddie did those things with you live on his show. One time you both almost got caught right in the middle of fucking when his boss was paying a visit. The room was a mess where he slung everything off his desk to lay you on top of it. The other time was when you accidentally hit the unmute button on his mic, and for about five minutes, Eddie's listeners got to hear you both going at it on his desk. The equipment rattling and wood creaking. You begging him to go faster. The sound of his hand slapping your ass from behind.

Yes, he was almost fired from there, too, but he got them more media attention, so he got stayed. His show became number one locally, and then a few years later, Nation Wide.

Eddie would interview big names he used to only dream about. From Ozzy to James Hetfield and so on. He had a personal feud with Howard Stern when Eddie called him out on his show. He absolutely loathed that man.

You and Eddie stayed together throughout it all and even moved in with one another after your graduation. You still worked as his assistant in his now much bigger studio. Everything was going very well for the two of you so far, and you can't wait to see what else the future holds.

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