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darkuselesssomebody · 2 months

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𝕧𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕖'𝕤 - dark!raider!joel miller x reader

complete masterlist

words || 𝟛𝕜

summary || in which the reader wants a valentine's gift, but Joel's not exactly her boyfriend

a/n || i'm so shocked i haven't written dark!joel before?? i love him, your honor. also, for the raider!joel concept, though overall popular for fanfic, i was personally super inspired by @toxicanonymity and @romana-after-dark. they both have fantastic raider!joel content, please check them out!!

➵ warnings for specific content before the divider, please heed them, this may be triggering content!

➵ technically ooc to joel in the show, but his dark past is hinted at so yeah

➵ not proofread

➵ comment/message if you'd have a request

warnings || smut/dark (dddne)

➵ !! reader is held captive and is experiencing stockholm syndrome. other women to which the same this is occurring are mentioned !!

➵ dubcon sex

➵ unprotected sex

➵ manhandling

➵ controlling dynamics

➵ slight degradation

“you have to do something for her.”

joel wonders how, as his younger brother, tommy always seemed to be nagging him, instead of the other way around. his face pinches in a scowl.

"the fuck i look like? cupid?" he growls back at his brother, rifle sagging on one of his shoulders, forcing him to readjust. tommy rolls his eyes.

"ya even have john and michael doin' somethin' special for their girls." he reminds joel how the other men in the group, with their own souvenirs, at least showed their consideration of the humanity of these girls on valentine's.

"she probably don't even know." joel grumbles, and tommy snorts.

"oh, she knows what valentine's is. the other girls told her. said she'd have liked some clothes."

"the fuck she need clothes for, ya sayin' i can't dress my girl?" joel, ever defensive, hates being talked down to by his little brother.

he hates more the fact that she seems to tell tommy so much more about herself than she does joel.

"y'can dress her, joel." tommy sighs. "but it won't hurt if she wears somethin' other than yer crusty flannels once in a while."

joel rolls his eyes, but he, luckily, doesn't have to entertain the rest of the conversation. a deer rustles the branches of a tree in the distance. joel's a better shot than his brother, always has been. but he's also less agile. as he's about to shoot, his foot crunches on a stick.

the shot still hits the deer's back, but it's a far cry from the headshot he was aiming for. he swears under his breath, but him and tommy are both already stalking the wounded prey, the same glow of determination and predation in their eyes.

they were still family, after all.

she used to never be able to sit still. pre-apocalypse, that meant she was always either fiddling with something, reading a book, or talking but... in the past few years, it meant a lot more silent stimulation. it was okay, she got by counting petals of flowers to herself or tracing the veins of leaves with her fingers to keep her mind occupied.

but the one thing she'd never given up was company. she'd had family, or friends, in every walk of this horrible turn of events, until 6 months ago.

when she was snatched away from her cruel life by an even crueler man. stripping her of autonomy and privacy were mild in comparison to her loss of company. the only other people in the house leered or jeered in her presence.

she was usually locked away from them anyways. in a tall tower she couldn't even use her hair to escape from; kept captive for the satisfaction and pleasure of a bad, bad man.

that's what made her head spin, though. because he wasn't always. yes, he was always sullen, and scowling, rough around the edges and calloused in his touch. but he wasn't always bad.

he'd fixed the bathtub of the house they were squatting in so she could revel in warmth if he wasn't around.

he risked his life for a new pack of cards and even a few books so she could keep her occupied.

and he would sometimes press gentle kisses to her forehead when he slept beside her, unbeknownst to himself, and without realizing the effect he had on her.

when the other men had started getting antsy about her being the only girl around (with her obvious off-limits status), joel relented and let them bring back their own. it was to avoid mutiny and maintain control, sure, but... it gave her company, too. and that was important to her.

the women would confide in her. first, of their fears and then, of their growing affections for their own men. it made her happy, vindicated.

she wasn't alone in her stockholm syndrome.

she's looking at the flowers that michael got for jessica. it's almost comical, with that kinda man and their kinda relationship. but jess liked it - really liked it - and that's all that mattered. john had promised anna something too, which she was talking about as the front door opened.

a dead deer was carried in by the miller brothers, and then some of the other men helped bring it out back to the shed, where they'd scavenge enough to feed the group for the week. as she always does, she approaches and stands in front of joel, greeting him in a low voice. he regards her with a once over, nodding, before his head tilts incrementally up, signalling to his bedroom.

she nods shyly, retreating to the room on the upper floor as joel delegates some tasks, before coming up to join her. she's looking out the window - barred, 'for her protection'- and he finally speaks up.

"what did ya do?" he asks gruffly, referring to the events in his absence.

"played some cards." she smiles softly as she faces him, "talked to anna and jessica." that makes him grimace a little, and she's confused.

"what about?" she shrugs.

"stuff. john and michael are gettin' them things, i guess?" she says it unsurely, "they say it's for 'valentines'?" she says the word curiously, as if wondering if it was something the 4 had made up, or if it was a real celebration. his grimace worsens: he hates when tommy's right. feigning innocence, he continues,

"what's that, then?" she looks at the floor shyly.

"like... a celebration? of... relationships, partners, that sorta thing." it's vague, but it's all she knows.

"huh." joel doesn't continue it further, and he goes silent, as he looks around the room to change out of his dirty clothes.

she sits on the bed, watching him move around, and with every passing moment of silence, her worry grows. did she say something wrong? was he mad? what happened?

when he finally goes to join her, he manhandles her to face away from him. that only makes her more upset, and she feels the prickle of tears in her eyes, as she lays down, and he joins her a moment later.

laying behind her as she feels a tear roll down her cheek, he doesn't realize how upset he's made her: he'd only asked her to turn around so he could fall asleep with the scent of her hair.

she wakes up after he's already left.

she sighs, rubbing her eyes, that always ended up a little inflamed after she cried. there's a little wetness on her pillow, and she flips it so joel doesn't see.

tommy's downstairs, having saved a fruit for her breakfast. she takes it gratefully, cutting it up and fiddling with the bite-sized pieces.

there's something on her mind - tommy, he notices these things. he wished his brother would, too.

"he's getting supplies." he assures her, knowing what was agitating her. she snaps out of it.

"hmm?" she pops a piece in her mouth, sweetness exploding on her tastebuds as she bites into it, "oh. right, yeah." she realizes what he's saying, "didn't he just get some?" tommy shrugs.

"he likes to go out to the abandoned mall - it clears his head." that makes her squirm.

"is he mad?" she mumbles, and tommy pats her shoulder.

"at you? never."

it wasn't exactly true, she thought. he's gotten mad before: if she talks too much to the others, when she doesn't listen to him, or when she finds herself in danger.

tommy knows joel's not mad in those moments. he's just terrified of what could possibly happen to his girl.

after finishing her fruit, she curls up under the blanket upstairs, wanting some time to herself. humming a melody - she thinks it's one that the guys will sing in an off-key fashion when they get particularly drunk - she tries to occupy herself by counting each of the little plaster bumps in the ceiling, and then all the small flowers on the dingy wallpaper of the room.

she gets to 78 when the door swings open. jolting awake, she makes eye contact with joel, who's looking down at her form under the covers.

"somethin' happen?" his voice is less gruff than usual, and she shakes her head.

"nope. just waiting." she gives him a weak, shaky smile. he doesn't return, but he doesn't click his tongue in annoyance, either. it's a win in her books.

he's got a backpack, and it looks pretty full. she wants to ask what's inside, but she knows he'll tell her if he wants to. he sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed. she scoots over so he has space.

"let me see you." he instructs, and she sits up, crawling out of the covers. sure enough, she's wearing one of his flannels for warmth, and had slipped into a pair of his boxers instead of her otherwise nonexistent pajama shorts. he's silent for a long moment, before he brings his fingers to examine the material. goddamn, was it old, frayed almost everywhere, and the chest pocket had a hole. he sighs, finally speaking, "comfy?"

she blinks, confused, "huh?"

"'re ya comf'rtable?" he repeats, voice gruffer. she lets out a nervous exhale. was it a trick?

"ye-yes. yeah, i'm comfy." she assure, and he hums.

"heard ya want somethin' new." he finally looks her in the eyes, something he doesn't do all that often. she shuts her eyes, cheeks heating in embarrassment and worry. dammit, tommy, she thinks, knowing the younger man had told joel about her offhand comment on clothes.

"it's fine, i'm happy with this." she splutters out quickly, hoping she won't upset him. he sees right though it though.

"yeah, yeah." he scoffs, waving a dismissive hand, as he gets up. her heart clenches, wondering if he was really angry, when he reaches for the backpack, throwing it at her.

it's not an aggressive throw, and lands on the mattress beside her.

"open it." he instructs, and she swallows thickly, unsure what to expect. the zipper is a little worn, but she eases it open... only to find not only clean but colorful clothes inside. she looks up at him in confusion.

"what...?" and for the first time in a while, there's just a hint of a smirk curling at his lips.

"go try 'em on." he encourages. giddily, she beams as she gets up, taking the bag of clothes into the cropped bedroom. he slumps back on the bed, trying to will away his fatigue. it'd been a hassle to collect all the clothes - more so, to find clean one he thought she'd like - so he leans back, waiting for her to return.

she lays out the clothes on the cramped sink counter space, starting with a simple pair of slightly flared jeans, pairing it with a light blue cropped cardigan. she goes out to show him, an obvious pep in her step.

he looks up as she enters, eyes trailing up and down her body, including the way the outfit fits her curves, and the slight glimpse of midriff.

"don't you look pretty?" he drawls, and, though it almost sounds sarcastic with his hard features, a light smile plays on her lips. she tries on 4 other outfits she could make out of the 10 articles of clothing he got her, and he seems to like each one even better. sure, he'd taken the initiative to ensure all of them were a little revealing - he deserved an eyeful for his hard work, after all - but she seemed genuinely happy, and the bright smile on her face almost rivals the cleavage that she shows off in some of the outfits.

when she shows him the final outfit, he pats the space on the bed next to him, and she obliges, sitting beside him.

"happy?" he finally murmurs, pulling her closer by the hem of her pants, and she nods excitedly.

"very." she assures, softening, "thank you." she doesn't need to clarify her sincerity, as it pours out in her tone. he caresses her cheek with his calloused thumb.

"good girl. you make sure to tell the girls." she almost laughs, knowing she'd show off the gift in the same way jess and anna have been with theirs. he wanted it to be known that fucking michael and john couldn't treat a better than he could, "got one more thing f'r you." he pulls her so she's standing, procuring two more pieces of small fabric from his pockets.

she inspects them, eyes widening a little when she realizes it's lingerie. he glances back at him, and he has a brazen and unashamed glint in his eyes. she's about to make a joke that this one seems more a gift for him than for her, but refrains, obliging with a small nod of her head, and taking it to the bathroom.

she strips out of her clothes, pulling up the lace fabric. the panties are practically a thong, shaping her ass nicely, while the bra enhances and perfects the curve of her tits, a small, red bow in between the cups, matching the bow on the hem of her panties.

she looks hot, and damn, is his taste good.

going back outside, a noise escapes his throat - like a guttural growl. he signals her to turn, and she does, giving her an ample view of her ass. he grabs her by the hips as she does, and she squeaks, as he pushes her down on the bed.

"oh!" she gasps, trying to sit up, but he's on top of her in a moment, mouthing at her neck roguishly, a sloppy trail left in his wake.

her skin erupts in goosebumps, but she knows better than to touch him when he gets like this - his need for dominance forbidding it. her hands grip the covers to ground herself, as his lips trail downwards, cheekily biting the bow of her bra, and taking a nip of her skin along with it. she moans, jolting, and he slaps her thigh - but gently. he's not meaning to hurt her - and trust her, she can tell when he is.

"stay still." he hisses, finally parting from her torso to marvel at her, "good lord, gonna fuck you in all this, sweetheart." he mumbles, more to himself than anything else, as his hands cup her breasts framed in the bra, squeezing softly so as to not damage the material.

usually, he'd revel in pushing her down to choke on his cock, and, when he was feeling more generous, he'd go down on her like a ravenous man.

but he was a simple man, who had been generous enough tonight. and he wasn't putting her in a position where he can't see her in the whole get-up, so the blowjob was out too.

fuck it, he thinks, reaching for the belt of his pants, i need her.

she gets up to help him undo his pants, but he forces her back into laying down, "wanna see you." he grumbles, finally undoing his pants. already hard, he palms his cock, eyes rolling back, "fuck."

he lowers again to shift the slit of the panties to the side, exposing her arousal, swiping his fingers through her mess, making her bite her lip. he wipes it gently on her cheek - a wholesome act, with a backdrop of degradation and depravity. he presses a soft hiss to the bow on her panties, making her shiver, before rising to his full length.

"you want it?" he grunts, as he strokes his cock, adjusting so it's lined up. she whimpers, as he's prolonging both of their suffering just to highlight her need for him. pathetically, she nods, and he laughs - barking and cold. "i can't hear you."

"yes!" she gasps out, unable to hold back anymore. he smirks in satisfaction, shifting his hips forward to bottom out in one stroke.

she cries out, eyes rolling back and head lolling onto the mattress, trying desperately to adjust to the stretch. he doesn't have that same decency, animalistically beginning to move his hips.

a squeal gets caught in her throat, and she cave to her instincts, gripping the wrist of the hand he's holding her waist with, squeezing as an indication of not her pain, but her pleasure.

thankfully, the adjustment was quick, and her surprised squeaks morph into pleasured moans, as he grunts on top of her, eyes raking the way that her tits try to bounce in the confinement of the bra. unusually, he's not annoyed by her touch, and it only makes him move more aggressively, as he can tell what makes her pleasure increase - as she'll squeeze his wrist harder.

"who's making ya feel this good?" he growls, "who takes care f'ya, sweetheart?" she chokes, garbled, broken moans escaping her.

"y-you!" she manages to gasp out, "o-only you, no one else, you - you take care of - of - oh, fuck!" she squeaks, feeling the pressure of her orgasm, "gonna - can i please - please-?!" she begs nonsensically, but he understands her - of course he does. she's his girl, after all.

"cum, sweetheart." he assures through gritted teeth, "who's making you cum?"

"y-you-" she cuts herself off with a cry as she cums, body stilling and legs trembling, as he continues to thrust and she rides out the orgasm.

he follows right after her, the squeeze of her cunt around sending his body into overdrive. collapsing on the bed beside her, the two remain silent for a minute to catch their breath.

finally, he clears his throat, getting up, and pulling her up, too. "go, clean up." he instructs, voice less gruff and softer, asking her to do something for her own good as opposed to his, "then change. don't think i can do another round right now." he knows that if he sees her in the outfit for longer, he'd get hard again.

with a woozy head, she does as he says. when she changes, though, she decides against the clothes that he bought her. she loves them, of course, but their either too coarse or flashy for night-time wear.

besides, they don't provide the precise comfort of stability that the flannel and boxers she puts on again does. though she tells herself she's not sure why joel's clothes seem more comforting than the new clothes, she's lying.

she feels more comfy in them because they smell and feel like him.

he's already knocked out when she exits, sleeping on his side, having evidently left the perfect amount of space for her to curl into his side, pulling his arm over to cradle her.

she knew he would always take care of her.

#joel miller #joel miller oneshot #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dark!joel miller #the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #valentines 2024

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nucifraga · 4 months

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so... who was going to tell me that my estimates of the tma characters' ages was WAYYY off??

and i know jonny probably meant it to be that way so that there'd be leeway for creative interpretation of the characters and all, but my brain wants them pinned down. so. here's a mini-list/research rant of my favs. presently the list consists of:

Jonathan Sims

Martin Blackwood

Sasha James

Timothy Stoker

Mike Crew !

Oliver Banks

Michael Shelley

Gerard Keay

Three disclaimers – (i) The TMA timeline is a trainwreck. Many assumptions have been made. At least half of them are probably wrong (especially where University is used as an age marker) and also my maths ability sucks because I haven’t done maths in two years, so where there are glaring issues, so feel free to correct me and I will edit accordingly :’) (ii) This is by no means definite. See above. Honestly, attempting to decipher them feels like trying to understand the Spiral. But I’m doing it anyway, because as both a fanfic writer and an academic, I want to at least try. (iii) SPOILER WARNING!! SO MANY SPOILERS! I think the only seaosn that isn't spoiled is maybeeee S5 ???

With that, let's go! [Ages are approximate & as-of 2016 / S1]

Jonathan Sims Age: 28 Birth year: 1987-1988 There seems to be a general consensus on this one. MAG81 appears to be one of the key clues here – ‘Jon says that he was about 8 during the events of the statement and that it happened a year or two after Leitner's library ended, which was in 1994. So he's born around 1987-88.’ [source: reddit]Of note is the fact that he lied about his age and pretended to be older, which is hilarious, and leads me to believe that he’s the youngest of the Archives crew – or at least, near there.

Martin Blackwood Age: 28-ish Birth year: 1988 Has worked for the Institute since at least 2009. He’s lied about having a Master’s in parapsychology, so is likely old enough to feasibly be able to have one. As all institute staff have to at least have a Master’s in something archive-related (iirc), all of them must hence be at least 22/23, assuming the Master’s courses are 1 year long. Jonny has, however, stated that Martin is either a bit older or a bit younger than Jon, and I’m tempted to believe it’s the former (see above).

Sasha James Age: 28-34, 30-ish? Birth year: 1981-1987 There’s like, nothing on Sasha. I’m assuming she’s at least older than Jon, because that might be why he began faking his age. The only possible marker would be that Sasha’s worked in Artefact Storage (for 3 months), Research (for longer, I assume) and long enough in Archives to be considered as Gertrude’s likely successor. So, definitely more qualified, and also older than Jon.

Timothy Stoker Age: 30-ish Birth year: 1986? Tim has a degree in Anthropology from Trinity College (I assume this to be Oxbridge, rather than Ireland or something, since he resides in London), and spent 5 years working at a publishing firm. This puts him at 26 (18+3+5) in 2013 when Danny was taken. As he says he began working for the Institute shortly after, I would assume that this is when he stopped working for the firm. I’ve added a bit of buffer because nobody’s birthdays are given, ever, and also there might have been a bit of time between leaving university and joining the firm and/or leaving the firm and finding the Institute. So – 30.

Okay that’s the core staff, onto my other favs.

Michael 'Mike' Crew Age: 37-ish Birth year: ~1979 My #1 avatar! I did a double-take after I worked out his entire timeline, but here’s the highlights: He was a uni student during late 1997-early 1998 when he went looking for Ex Altiora in Lion Books. I’m assuming he was a first year, because generally uni students stay in the sameish area for the whole course and I don’t see him missing out on an opportunity to Leitner-hunt just because the store was in a slightly out-of-the-way part of town. So! This puts his birthdate at around 1979-1980.

Oliver Banks Age: 28-ish Birth year: ~1987 Oliver Banks’ timeline during & post-Uni makes NO SENSE. Fortunately, we do know that he moved to London around 2005 to do his undergraduate degree at the London School of Economics. Which puts him at around 18 in 2005, and his birth year can be worked out from there. Quick rant about Oliver’s timeline: Oliver is working at Barclays by 2007, and he was recruited after graduating. Which means he both began and subsequently completed his undergraduate degree between 2005 and 2007. That’s literally impossible for a standard 3 year course. Plus, by around 2007, he’s been working for nearly a year at Barclays, so he started in 2006… so apparently he began his degree and completed it in under a year, since the academic year starts in September??

Michael Shelley / Michael the Distortion Age: 31 / 49 / early 50s (but canonically 92 at all points in the timeline) Birth year: ??? I didn’t do the research on this one, so here’s my source because I don’t think there’s any more I can add.This mess is truly Spiral-worthy, which could have been intended, but also may just be the TMA timeline wonkiness at work. There’s also been some speculation that he was hired at even younger than 18, but equally it’s possible that he was hired older, which puts his age squarely into the [I don’t have a fucking clue] range.

Gerard Keay Age: technically 32 Birth year: ~1984 Gerry was born in the 80s, and given that the above source states he was in his ‘late teens’ in 2002, this tracks. Making the assumption that he’s 18 in 2002, I’m going to place his birth year at around 1984. However, he died in 2014 (I’m assuming late-2014, given that he had time to encounter Leitner in London & travel a bit with Gertrude before his death) in the USA, putting him at around 30 at the age of his death. Since he’s dead, he doesn’t really age, but he is ‘aware’ enough to be in existential pain so I’m going to go with Descartes on this one and say he’s ‘alive’ enough to continue counting his years of existence. Poor guy. Doesn’t even get to actually die til August 2017 either.

Part 2 ft. the 4 Grandpas of the Apocalypse here

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happilyfeatherafter · 1 month

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Happilyfeatherafter’s ficrec Fridays

Good friday y'all. Welcome back to a new fortnight of fics that I’ve read and loved recently. I took my first holiday of the year and IMMEDIATELY caught a cold that knocked me out for the week but at least it meant I got reading done. Save me, destiel, save me.

If you want to find more you can see my previous rec lists here!

29 March 2024

virga(e) by @shineforthee (art by @neversleepuntilfive) has gone straight to the top of the favourite fics ever pile, oh my god you guys, please read it immediately and admire the art that inspired it as part of @deancasreversebang. This fic is a thing of beauty from start to finish. In one version of the story of Dean and Cas, we find Castiel perpetually waiting in the desert, when a 26 year old Dean stumbles upon him drawn to the location mid-hunt. They must learn to trust each other, to figure out what's causing the push and pull that bonds them. The poetry of this fic, run through with this yearning devastating emotion on their journey together, coupled with the incredibly evocatively descriptions and research into the setting, come together to make the most gorgeous picture, the desert a place that seems desolate but is teeming with life. Much like the slowburn romance that flourishes between them. It also links back to post-canon in a way that is seeded so carefully and cleverly, and made my heart explode. It's funny, romantic, devastating, emotional, moving....I can't do justice to this fic with such a short snapshot, please read it for yourselves and come yell at me about it. It's so beautiful. shineforthee also has a great 9x06 fanfic gap one shot and an ongoing wip now too and I can't wait to read that! (Somehow need any more convincing? Check out @bloodydeanwinchester's Virga(e) liveblog).

It's all very complex by artichokeflower okay that was all very serious, so let's turn to a short and sweet smut fic that had me giggling gleefully throughout. 'After walking in on Dean's private time, Cas decides to do a little research and experimentation of his own and gets magically trapped in a book about sexual fantasies. And if that means Dean has to go in after him, well what are buddies for, right?' The thing that is just GOLDEN about this fic aside from the hot smut is the dry sense of humour, borderline French Mistake parody level porn and dialogue between Dean and especially Cas which just gets them so well...the cowboy scenes in particular. Glorious: “I’m sorry, Dean. That’s the end of the erotic violence. Are you hurt?” “Is there going to be any sex in your sexy fantasies?” Dean wheezed. “Not that the whole shoot out wasn’t fun. I just wasn’t expecting as much plot is all.” He coughed. That had probably sounded too eager.

Just Being and Just Having by Englandwouldfall I have recced before but is now complete!! This the post-canon fic series delves so incredibly beautifully into Dean and Cas’ history of miscommunication and gives them the chance to truly talk things out, finding themselves falling more deeply in love as they do so and understand their own mistakes but also what makes them work so well together when they’re no longer under Chuck’s thumb. Each chapter feels like therapy and a brain and heart massage! It sticks the landing so well and I just love these boys so much.

Something Happening Somewhen by allthismusic (@folkbloodbaths, art by @eggchef) aaaahhh time travel young Dean brought to the future to meet older Dean and Cas fic trope my beloved. A @deancaspinefest fic, Allthismusic is a fan of the trope too and this fic is a gorgeous tribute to it and the fics that came before. Cas saves 24yo Dean from an accident and brings him to the future when he witnesses what his life will be. Will Cas have to remove his memories to stop a paradox? Sweet and heartfelt, a joy to read.

Books, Pies, and Roommates by @seidenapfel (art by @kitshay) is a @deancaspinefest two-person love hexagon, with some excellently farcical misdirection. Cas moves in to the spare room of Dean's house, but he doesn't meet him, he meets Sam, as Dean is busy working. Cas is professor but helps his cousin out as a barista and his favourite customer is Deano. Dean's intrigued by the barista but he's not his online penpal and best friend Angel. Lines blur, connections are made, and hearts are gonna get broken...or are they?

Tag list under the cut, let me know if you'd like to be added! Please reblog <3

@dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you

#happilyfeatherafter ficrec friday #ficrec #destiel #destiel fic #deancas #destiel fanfic

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keeponquinning · 1 year

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Feel The Rain Pour | 18+!! eddie munson x fem!reader one shot!

summary — porn with some plot sprinkled about. eddie's been having a day and you noticed, so you decided to treat him to some alone time with you. things get steamy enough not even the rain can ruin it, maybe even make it better.

preview voiced by eddie —

word count — 21.5k 😭

warnings?? — i mean, it's smut, like, 100000% smut so. oral ( m + f receiving ), p in v sex, unwrapped bc no consequences in fic unless i deem it so, do not apply in real life pls, dirty talk tho nothing too scandalous, use of the word c*nt??, light spanking, like barely there, more smacking.

notes — good god it's finally done, it's finally here, I thought of this smutty idea like MONTHS ago when it was raining. and that....yeah, the thought of, "Oh, it's a one shot, it shouldn't take long" was WRONG lmao it took ALL the time. If you read this, thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you LIKE / LOVE this, THANK YOU WITH ALL MY BEING. If you REBLOG / COMMENT / SHOWING SAID LOVE FOR THIS, you may as well be lucifer bc i'd sell my soul. i hope you all like this, this is my first real comeback to actual fic writing, and my god, it was hard. I'd honestly not read fanfics in so long, like, I think I was a teen, but then this tall white british man that put on a wig and stole our hearts came into the scene and it renewed my life of fanfiction with such ferocity it took me by so much surprise. i've read so many good stuff from fellow writers, i hope this brings even a small amount of joy ya'll brought me reading your stuff. without further ado, read my filth with a touch of fluff. and did i need to use the voice ai for this? yes. yes, I did. ( if you see any spelling mistakes, no you didn't, I'm tired )

taglist ! — @etherealglimmer , @inourtownofhawkins , @fanxxtasygirl , @lunaapis , @kuldxx1, @roxiehorrorshow , @twilightteeth , @paranoidmunson , @aconites , @selfishsaviour

He was having a day, that much you knew. You haven't been together long, but you've learned to see the signs. The tightness of his jaw, the way the light in his dark brown eyes seemed to dim and smolder.

There wasn't a lot you knew about Eddie Munson, other than whispers and gossip that roamed Hawkins High. The Freak of Hawkins was said often and that was all you knew of him, until you shared a class with him and was sat next to him, and for an hour each day, he was all you could really see. Sometimes with a turn of your head, other times out of the corner of your eye, despite yourself. It started off slowly, the first period of class, sometimes he'd come late and seeing him peek at your book to see what page the class was on, doing it enough times that you started to point at the page number for him. That was the first time he smiled at you, amusement and appreciation thrown your way and shit, it was nice.

The way he smiled and looked at you with those chocolate button eyes of his, was nice. And that was when you knew you were fucked. Because after that? Those small interactions meant everything, dropping a pencil and him picking it up for you, fingers grazing together sent your whole arm tingling. You were pretty sure you played it cool, a polite thanks and receiving a nod. He was oddly polite, in mannerism, but the way he looked and smirked at you was...something else. Something that entirely consumed you for the rest of the day, sparking up each time you saw him walk pass in the hallway, or in the cafeteria. Your friends were so oblivious to notice, even when it felt so pathetically obvious when your eyes would meet at least a few times during lunch. Yeah, you were fucked.

Then there was the day he forgot his book, and you two had to share yours, and he smiled over at you. Don't worry, I won't bite, he had said in a joking manner once your desks were joined, the book between you and you had just held back a bit in your seat. And even to this day, you weren't sure why too bad just flew out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though the smile on your face wasn't one of embarrassment, but amusement out of yourself. You were about to say sorry, blame it on being a bad joke, but he beat you to it. Only when given permission, s w e e t h e a r t. You looked at him then, his smile matching your own and his eyes staring directly into yours and words just died in your throat, giving a nod and you settled closer. You heard the teacher's voice, read the text, but understood not a single thing. Just the sound of his voice when he was made to read, the warmth of his body close and yet not close enough to yours and his breathing as he read along silently, when you dared to look at him, seeing his lips move along the words softly and the way your heart fluttered.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity, f u c k.

You were the one that kissed him first, meeting him after school after his Hellfire Club meeting. He had asked to borrow your notes for an upcoming test, your notes much more detailed. He didn't even have to have a reason, he could have asked and you would have pathetically said yes. Your friends were starting to notice, the two of you making more opportunities to interact, to acknowledge each other, and they spoke to you in concern. You didn't really care, especially then when he was still riding off a high after his campaign and you saw it on his face, the way he moved. His eyes lit up, smile wide and his laugh... You didn't ask, but he tried to talk you through it, you weren't there, but you felt you were with how detailed he went into it. You were never into the game, but he was so infectious and captivating, you listened to every word, every movement, it was like he was doing a one man show and you were the only audience that mattered. You didn't know how, but you knew you were the one that kissed him, felt his lips and felt his hands at your hips and pulled you close to him. Tasted him off his tongue and fuck. He never let you forget it, though, that you kissed him first with that smug ass grin of his. You remind him that he's lucky he's cute.

Since that day, you two were pretty inseparable, attached to the hip, it did cost you your friends, and he had felt a bit bad about it. He knew it was because of him, the Freak, but you told him you didn't care, and you didn't, his friends sort of welcomed you anyway and were more genuine than your friends could be. In that time you got to know each other a bit better, was able to read his body language more, and that's when you knew he wasn't his usual self, quieter than normal, more rigid. You'd hope to cheer him up, bringing him to Lover's Lake with some food and beer you had managed to sweet talk your way into buying — fake ID helped in that as well — and had hoped for a nice little sunny outing, yet the overcast sky didn't quite get the message and messed that up for you. "This is a bust," you let out with a sigh, at least finishing your food, throwing the wrappers in the bag you brought. "Sorry, I was picturing sunny skies and laying all warm, but..." you tell him, looking at him with an apologetic face.

He wouldn't have it, though, looking at you with a shake of his head, "What're you talking about? You got me fed, liquored up, got us all to ourselves... Nah, sweetheart, nothing to apologize for, this is great." He stretched his arm, his sleeveless shirt showing off his tattoos on his arm, flexing his ringed fingers, his jacket around your shoulders, seeing you shiver once and immediately throwing it around you despite your protests. You were stubborn, but he was slightly more. Offering a smile, you watched as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close and laid a kiss at the corner of your lips. Chuckling deep at the soft little whine that came out of you, a smirk on his lips as he grasped your chin between finger and thumb, his lips meeting yours in a soft caress. Both of you feeling the smile between you, feeling a wave of relief and he a wave of hunger. Pressing his lips closer, your heart pounding against your chest as he took a deep breath and lips parted. The warmth of his tongue slid across your bottom lip and your body quivered, accepting his tongue, his taste.

His jacket fell from your shoulders, though you didn't feel the cold, just the heat of his kiss and the taste of cheap beer and cigarette — he's such a smoker and before you thought it was gross, but now the taste is undeniably warming up to you. Probably because it was so Eddie, you couldn't help but crave it now. Meeting his tongue with every flick, every roll that makes your head dizzy. You kinda recall your fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt, grasping the fabric and pulling him closer. Fuck, it strokes his ego when you did things like that, show how much you want him. You knew it did. But you didn't much care when you swallow his groan like that his hand moved to your cheek, can feel his breath deepen, chest rising and falling quick. His other hand joins in, cupping your face and it's your moan he swallows next and he does, so eagerly before the kiss ends and you two part, lips wet and thread of spit between you.

Dazed brown eyes look at you, his body warm, kind of tingling. His thumbs stroking along your cheeks, a small lazy smile on his face. "That better, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice deep and husky. Always looking at your face, catching any movement, some sort of tell of what you were feeling. You were breathing deeply, seeming to be in a bit of a haze that he wouldn't lie, stroked his ego and he could feel himself harden in his jeans. He couldn't help it, seeing you like that from his kiss did things to him. His thumb brushing your bottom lip, catching your smile.

"Mmm..." you hummed, keeping close to him. "It's a start... Definitely a start."

His brows raised, his smile widening enough to show his teeth as he let out a breathless laugh. "A start? A start?" You chuckled, his lips peppering yours with kisses. You drove him crazy sometimes, though he liked it, "Can't believe..." he uttered against your lips, kissing you between his words, "..giving my best..." Fingers gliding down your neck, stroking the flesh lightly. "...and you say... It's a start... Killing me here..." Though he's still chuckling, along with you, it makes him forget, at least a bit, caught up in you. There's a lightness in him again, and he knows you can feel it, because he can feel it in you, too.

"It's a good start," you insist with a smile, lips flushed against his lips, teeth finding his bottom lip, biting into it and the groan he lets out brings in a wave of heat through you, pooling within your stomach, felt between your legs. He wraps his arms around you, around your shoulders unexpectedly and pulls you closer, feeling his lip slip between your teeth.

He sucked the lip, the stinging pain from that bite lingering, but in such a way it had zapped through him and went straight for his cock. Feeling a twitch there, jeans getting a bit tighter, but not unbearably so. Looking at you, he shook his head in pure astonishment, eyes scanning your face and fingers digging into your hair. "Shit," he let out, "Y'know what gets me? People look at you and think you're such an innocent little thing." You snorted at that, a roll of his eyes that only makes his smile grow wider. "I'm serious. Yeah, my girl is smart, kind, fucking gorgeous, prettiest thing I've seen..." His train of thought seeming to veer as his lips came to yours again in a soft kiss, fleeting as he let out a hum, feeling you shudder, letting that ego be stroked once again. "They think I'm so mean and scary... Like I bullied you into being with me... That I'm corrupting you. Like I'm gonna ruin you." His nose nuzzled against yours, dark brown eyes staring straight into yours, "That you have to or must be scared of me." His hand moved to the curve of your neck, thumb caressing your jaw as he took a deep breath. "Maybe you should be. Maybe I am ruining you."

He doesn't usually talk like this, which makes you listen to every word carefully until it starts to click. That lightness that had sparked within him dimmed a little with every word, and it's in that moment you realize what exactly had set him on edge today, the way he's looking at you, the jaw clenched again, it makes you take a deep breath and lick your lips. "Who was it?"

A strained laugh escaped him, dark brown eyes slightly flicker amusement as his grip on you loosened and he pulls away a bit. "Like I said — my girl is smart." You watch as he leaned back and rests at the palms of his hands against the grass. "Scott. Carver. Brick, the fuck I know, that meathead you used to slobber all over — well, maybe the other way around."

"Calvin."

He let out a scoff and rolled his eyes so hard, you were sure it must have hurt, but he kept it up. "Calvin, or your pal, Cal," a hint of jealousy in his tone, fingers growing busy as he fiddled with a leaf on the grass by his hand. "Yeah, that guy. Came up to me at the lockers, like some white knight trying to save the damsel. You guys hadn't been together since last year? Yet he sees you with the freak and here he comes running. Saying all sorts of stuff, basically I'm bad for you," he quirked his lips, the leaf now torn to shreds, brushing the remnants of it off his hands. "That I'd drag you down, you got this bright future and I, essentially," his eyes looking up at you. "...will ruin you. That I should let you go. Whatever I'm doing to make, a sweet girl like you," his hand coming toward your face, tucking your hair behind your ear, watching your head lean into the touch and a soft smile appears on his face, taking in an uneven breath. "...a s w e e t girl like you...want anything to do with me, I should just stop, before you turn into a freak, too. And sweetheart, he's not the only one that thinks that. Because your former friends? They think the same."

"Do you believe them?" He doesn't answer you, but you feel the stroke of his thumb against your cheek, he takes a deep breath, but his lips are still. Grasping his hand, you give it a squeeze, "Eddie... Do you believe them?" You watched as he licked his lips, wondering if your taste was still on them, if he was savoring them, gently feeling his hand slide away from your cheek, his warmth lingered though. Slowly fading as your hand found itself on his jean clad knee, fingers trailing over the ripped hole, nails trailing over the skin. There was a sense of a shiver from him, prompting you to move a bit closer. "Baby, tell me you don't believe you're going to ruin me. That's not what's happening here. They're just assholes."

That made him laugh, a soft huff of it as his eyes trailed from your hand on his knee to your eyes, a small barely visible smile on his face. "Honestly?" He inquired, and only when you nodded, he continued, "I dunno. I mean, no, it's not like I went outta my way to..." He shrugged, "Try and get you or anything. Didn't really think much of it, of us being a possibility. Shit, part of me sometimes wonders if its a prank by your buddies. Send the pretty girl to the freak and...be nice to him, kiss him because..." His smile wide as he gave you a nod, "Y'know, you kissed me..." You snorted and rolled your eyes, making him laugh, eyes roaming over you, a proud feeling coursing through him. "Make him feel lucky that...you were goodly enough to do that. And other things... Really...good things."

"What, just good?"

He laughed, "Doesn't feel good, does it, huh?" Referencing your earlier assessment of their kiss.

Which you immediately got, chuckling as you moved closer towards him, close enough to feel his warmth of his body and his gaze. "Touche."

Eddie let out a soft hum, looking into your eyes with a pleased little smile. "I do feel lucky, though. I've noticed you, y'know, long before the school year. Before being sat next to you first period. The thought of you noticing me? Being nice to me — that, wasn't used to that." Shaking his head, he brought up his hand, wrapping it at the side of your neck, thumb caressing against the hallow of your throat. "Most people just...are so annoyed by me," he let out with a soft laugh, an even proud smile. "Something I bring out I guess. Just set 'em on edge, not gonna lie, I don't hate it. Gives me a kinda thrill to piss off so many people while just existing. That's natural born talent."

He wasn't wrong, after all, before the school year, all you knew of him was what was whispered and gossiped among friends and classmates. When you thought about it, there was a sense of unease whenever he happened to walk along the halls, making no qualms of his presence known. Back then, you didn't think much of it, you figured it was just the way it was and something to be endured. No one had attempted to know him, aside from the other outcasts, the ones that didn't fit in. You supposed you did, though barely, you weren't one of the popular ones but you were somewhere in between. You didn't hate Eddie, you just didn't know him, though you supposed there was a part of you that was helpless to take notice of him, even then. Though now...

"But you," he continued, eyes pouring over you, shaking his head lightly from side to side. "I dunno... You weren't like that. Not like them. You didn't seem scared, annoyed, maybe a bit quiet at first, but..." He shrugged, trying to explain it, even just a bit. Thing was, he did expect you to be like your friends. Ignore him, mock him, but since the day you simply pointed at the page number after he had peeked so many times, he was a little drawn to you. Not thinking he had a chance, of course. But, he liked being close to you, even if just in class, passing you through the halls, the fact you'd have an actual conversation with him. He knew it wouldn't go beyond that, that was, until you kissed him. "I still don't know why you kissed me, though, ego stroking aside... Not that I don't enjoy it, I fucking do. But, if I'm honest... Part of me wonders if it's all leading up to me covered in pig's blood. Some payback for...being mean and scary."

"So... You think I'd fuck you...for a prank?" You took in a deep breath, raising your brows, "Wow, that's some dedication there... Because as you keep bringing up the fact that I kissed you, I also fucked you right after... And I don't care even if you were that big of an asshole and somehow deserving of a prank of Carrie proportions..." You shook your head, "I wouldn't do that for a prank. Goes without saying, I wouldn't do that to you, because," you cupped his cheek, smiling softly. "You're not mean and scary... You're kind of hot, actually..." A laugh shared between you two, as he raised his brows and pointed at himself, as if questioning, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. "Y e a h, you are. Ridiculously hot. It's very distracting, has been for a while even before I kissed you..."

"Y e a h ?" he asked, a shit eating grin on his face. Maybe he sort of believed it, recalling that odd time of sitting next to you in that damn class, so certain he'd be bored to tears, and then he wasn't. Not with you. Nothing was ever boring with you. His eyes glancing toward your lips, remembering that day, when you first pressed his lips to his — riding off his high after the campaign, after Hellfire, it wasn't his most sexiest moment, in his eyes. Which made the kiss so surprising, always being able to come up with some quip, some comeback or just be loud. But when you kissed him? Shit. All he could do was taste you, wanting more. Couldn't believe it. He still smiled when he sat at his throne and looked at the table, knowing with vivid detail how pretty you looked, cumming as he fucked you right on it. "Why'd you kiss me? I mean, I wasn't really...sexy right then... I don't think you're pranking me, anymore, I'm past that, but... I've been wondering. Stroke my ego for a bit."

"Oh... You were sexy then..." Laughing softly as you saw his confused face. "I'm serious. I was already...fucked over you, and you were..." You shook your head, "God, you don't even know. Eddie... I spent so much time around jocks, academics, party girls, all just making it their whole personality. It's their life and all they care about... Nothing else mattered, especially people. I'd be in a crowded room and they wouldn't care if I was in it. Even with Calvin, I just...didn't matter, y'know? All that time dating, he didn't know me. Just...this idea of me, I guess? He didn't care about knowing the person I was... Until I broke things off because I felt so lonely. There's no passion, no...joy, really. And even with sports, which, is the driving force in school, all they talk and care about, yet, I've never seen them as passionate as you were that day. No one's...genuine like you are." You watched as his eyes softened a bit at that, a ghost of a smile on his face. Had no one told him that? Were you the first? "And, again, you're not mean and scary. I've seen how your friends look at you. They'd follow you anywhere. No one mean and scary could bring that devotion. Loud? Yeah. Obnoxious? A good amount," he rolled his eyes at that, but both of you sharing a smile.

"You could even be annoying sometimes, but..." you continued, looking ino those deep brown eyes of his. "I'd take you over normal or, even the tall, dark, handsome type because those types are fucking boring and you are anything but boring. You talk, sometimes a lot, but at least you don't bottle things up like everyone else seems to do. Wanting to feel numb, playing their roles and settled to play them until the day they die. Without passion, without emotion, doing what they think is right for them, not what they want. I kissed you, and promptly fucked you, because you were different than anyone I had ever met. Very unique, very Eddie Munson and... I liked that the fact that I've never played the game didn't stop you from telling me every single moment of that campaign that day. Like you needed to explain it all to me. Like, you were excited and wanted to share that with someone you barely knew, it was..." You smiled wide, "It was very cute."

"Um," he interjected, holding up a finger, "I thought I was hot and sexy, I don't recall...cute being used to describe me, you're being very inconsistent, here, sweetheart."

A soft laugh breathed out as your hand on his cheek went to the back of his head, fingers grasping his hair. "Oh, but you're actually all three?" He gave a nod, facial shrug given as you moved closer. "And it's actually very unfair, making it hard being around you and not do this..." Smiling against his lips, feeling his grin against yours as you kissed him, feeling him pull you closer, once again feeling his tongue slide within your mouth with no resistance from you. The hand on his knee lingered, the taste of his cigarette greets you once again, fingers sliding along the denim, nails dragging against the fabric, slowly along his inner thigh.

You were playing a dangerous game the more you moved those fingers on him, his breath hitching, shiver running through him and an ache settled from his hardening cock. He should probably tell you to slow down, to get in the back of his van to continue, in his opinion, a pretty fucking perfect afternoon. All because, he figured out, you wanted to cheer him up. Because the thoughts of your former friends, former boyfriend got into his head... Your words playing in his head, now, the roll of your tongue against his taking his breath away. His hands finding the small of your back and pulling you closer. His previous thoughts of his van slowly melting away, pressing himself closer to you. Chasing the sweet taste of you.

He liked that out of the two, you were the one that initiated the love bites. Your teeth finding his bottom lip, applying just the right amount of pressure, sending a pleasant little shock wave through his body. A little moan as he shivered, grasping your hips tightly. Sucking in his bottom lip as it slipped from your grip, tasting the slightest hint of blood, feeling a throb of his cock, the lightest touch of your fingers grazing against the bulge through his jeans. "Shit," he whispered, bringing his lips across your jaw, seeing your eyes look down between you both, on your fingers teasing him. The pads of your fingertips sliding up and down the clothed length, feeling his body tensing, a groan bubbling at the depth of his throat. "You drive me crazy, princess," his voice soft, wet kisses pressed against your throat. You feel the warmth of his tongue as it slid out, closing his eyes as he felt your fingers copying the patterns he placed on your neck, a groan as the palm of your hand pressed against him. Rubbing lightly, yet with pressure. "Fuck, d'you know what you're doing to me right now?"

"Mmhm," you hummed, the fingers in his hair tightening slightly, as he growled and grazed his teeth against your neck. The feel of him pulse beneath your palm, keeping the slow pace but also taken by how hard he felt. Making your mouth water, an ache between your legs. "I do," your breath quickening, closing your eyes as your hand squeezed the bulge of his cock gently. The way he groaned made you squeeze your own thighs. You wanted to chalk it up to this thing between you being new and different, but the way he was able to arouse you so easily, to make you wet with a gentle gaze, touch, words whispered in your ear... That had to be something significant, right?

That, or maybe Eddie Munson just made you ridiculously horny.

Ever since you two had fucked that day after Hellfire, spread your legs so willingly for him on that damn table, a part of you was haunted by his cock. The feel of him, how hard and thick, the way it filled your mouth and cunt so differently yet so perfectly, it made you moan even now. Did Eddie know what he did to you? He holds you tighter, panting softly against your neck in a way that made you shudder. A whimper let out as his hand roamed up your back, his tongue finding your pulse, sucking wetly against it. The feel of his fingers glided over your shoulder, tugging the thin strap of the dress you wore — remember? You were expecting some warmth in the day. The dress was thin, flimsy at best, and perhaps more for his benefit, no bra underneath as he pulled the strap further, giving your neck a bite, making you squirm, a small whimper in your throat. You could feel his smile against your neck, moving toward your lips and melded into a kiss.

He knew you didn't wear a bra — selfishly it was the first thing he noticed when he saw you. The sudden cold weather making your tits hard, damn noticeable with that dress. Eddie prided in having so much self control not to latch on straight away, though that resistance was crumbling as you moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss to let out a hiss, feeling your hand on his cock more insistent, "Mmm, baby..." he muttered against your lips, watching with a delighted gaze as your fingers went to his belt. You were so determined, insistent, and it stroked his ego so good that you wanted him that much. He kissed you again, teeth at your bottom lip just as you had, helping you with the zipper. "D'you..." he breathed out, groaning, your hand slipping inside, the loss of a denim barrier and the much thinner fabric of his boxers felt amazing. "That's... F u c k," he was going to say something, suggest something... "Fuck, um, van? D'you..." His cock twitched, right under your grasp. "God, you're killing me..."

And your hand was demanding, palm stroking his length over his boxers. The sounds of his groans making the ache between your legs all the more unbearable. "No... Not the van... I want you right here..." you uttered as your hand slid underneath his boxers, the both of you letting out a gasp of breath as your hand wrapped around his hardened cock, the feel of it within your grasp so oddly comforting, actually craving it since the last time you had him. With his help he lowered his jeans slightly, just enough to free him completely.

The thought of you wanting him so eagerly, it was frying his brain a bit. "You sure? If someone... Mmm..." That wasn't fair, how your thumb played with the bead of precum at his tip, using it to rub against him, his hands laid flat on the grass, trying to will himself not to shudder. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he looked at you, biting his bottom lip. "Someone could see us, sweetheart..." Since when did he care? Well, not for himself. "Someone could see you..."

"I know." His face awash in lust and confusion, your face moving toward him, "I don't care," you tell him with a smile, sneaking in another kiss, as if you could ever get enough of them. Taking a deep breath, you squeeze his cock lightly, a small groan from his lips excited you, head filled with lust, with need. "I'm not a sweet girl, Eddie. I'm really not—"

"Yes, the fuck, you are," he uttered in a hiss, swallowing hard, his brown eyes darker to you. "You're my sweet girl..." The sound of it evoking a part of you from the depth of yourself, the way he said it, gave you the need to move your hand so painfully slowly, up and down his length. He let out a small whine, so discreet, so easily missed — but you heard it, from the back of his throat. Licking his lips, his hand grabbed you. "My sweet girl," he repeated, "Just mine," his words sounding distant, feeling himself get lost in your hand.

"I'm not innocent, though..."

That made him laugh, strained and out of breath, but laugh. "That you're not, sweetheart. No, that's what Cal and them think. Just sweet and innocent and should never, ever be around anyone like me," his voice laced with resentment, bitterness, a grin that matched it on his face. "I'm sorry, baby... I let them get to me." He let out a small groan, hips squirming underneath your touch, hand twisting as your rose it toward the tip and fuck, that felt good. "They don't see what I see..."

"What do you see?"

He hummed, pleasantly, fingers trailing up the hem of your dress, pushing it up your thighs, hips. "I see... A fire in you... Burning bright..." His words soft as he took your lips in another kiss, soft, sensual, open as you met his tongue once more. Never resisting. Always giving. A groan pushed into your mouth as his hand cupped your mound, long, thick fingers sliding back and forth against your covered folds. You were drenched, of course, to his utter fucking delight. Digits covered in the warmth sticky nature of your wet arousal, he sucked your bottom lip, teeth catching it, biting deep that you let out a whine. In your stroking of him, you felt the bead of moisture leak out of him more, felt the pulse and throb of him. Spreading it along his length, you needed to make your hand slick, wanting to slide your hand all the more easily.

As if he knew, as if he could read your mind, he broke the kiss and took your hand off his cock and spit into your palm. You couldn't help to watch in a sort of awe, it should disgust you, if it was anyone else, it would. But you couldn't help but think of Eddie doing exactly this, when you weren't together, and the thought of him thinking of you as he used his spit to his own cock, to jerk off... Thighs clenched together, feeling his hand guide yours right back to his length, moving your hand slowly up and down him, releasing small moans from his lips. Each sound sending a chill to run through you, warming and cooling you at the same time.

It didn't take long for him to lift his hand away, letting you take over as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the soft, and god, fluid feeling of your hand. You really didn't care if anyone were to walk by or see the two of you, because as your eyes took in the sight of Eddie's face then. The poke of his tongue between his lips, the slow rise of his chest, the concentrated, blissful look of his face as his jaw clenched and nostrils flared as his breath hitched and exhaled... You felt a sense of pride, knowing you were doing this to him, pleasing him in such a way. Your hand felt so smooth along his cock, squeezing gently, giving him a slightly tighter feel. His hand on your thigh tightening, fingers flexing the longer you went, you almost felt godly. You wondered if his rings would leave bruises on your thighs with how strong he was squeezing, you hoped they would.

"Should I be... Baby, you're too good at that..." his voice strained, his insides on fire, especially with your thumb swiping across the slit of his cock. "Making me... Fuck, wanna kick anyone's ass who you ever...touched like this... Oh, fuck," he ended as your palm twisted around the head, quick, fast, making him let out a whine. Pleasure almost overwhelming. He could feel it, the slow crawl toward the edge, gentle steps toward that blissful state that you've managed to bring him to over and over since the first time. You've shocked him, he'll admit that, a girl like you? Doing such filthy things, and not having to be coached, or taught, just simply let be? It was the hottest thing about you.

You feel him pulse in your hand, eyes watched as he leaked further, in your eyes, just for you. His words sweet in their own way, smiling softly as you take in the sight of his cock. Such a pretty one. Not that you had a lot to compare it to. "Well, thankfully your pretty hands can stay clean..." A tease in your voice as you moved closer, while his spit in your hand was...unexpectedly sweet and highly arousing, it wasn't quite enough as you gathered within your mouth and let it drool almost perfectly over the swollen head, your other hand swiping the remnants off your lips. You say his eyes, how wide they got, how dark the brown. He enjoyed that, which made you all the more wet. "You're really the first to really let me...show my skills like this. My other boyfriends...they never really let me play their cocks, so... No one else been touched by me like this."

That seemed...so insane to him. Eddie's brows furrowed, trying to comprehend what you just told him. Because there was no way... "Not once, not even... Fuck," the way your hand squeezed at his base, pressing against his stomach as your fingers went to caress his balls, using your spit to make them slick as well, and giving them attention, his hand turned into a fist with his nails digging into the flesh of his palm. "That... uh. Fuck. W h y ?"

You smirked, the flat of your palm moving toward his sacs, sliding up and down them. Slowly. Gently. "They thought I was a sweet girl..." The way he laughed, breathless and strained, brought a wicked smile to your face. "Even in the heat of the moment, they thought I was made a glass. Too pristine, too precious to get dirty." Your eyes looked toward his shaft, the way he was thick, veins so prominent, he was a good length too. Just slightly above average, not enough to scare someone, but enough to feel deep, deep enough to make you lose control hard and fast, and more than deep enough to gag. "I was too precious to have their cock in my throat, too...." Looking at him, your best attempt at doe eyes — not that you could compare with his — but it earned a chuckle from him, the hand on your thigh squeezing as he let out a groan.

"Princess..." He looked like he was struggling, trying to regain some sort of resolve, to hold back. The talk of being out here and getting caught, it was...definitely exciting and the fact that you weren't holding back... It was fine to indulge a bit, his plan was still to drag you into the back of his van at some point before things got too...intense. But the implications of your words struck him, the memory of your ex-boyfriend trying to rough him up with words and doubts on the two of you. It made him thoughtful, licking his lips before asking, "So... Not even with Cal?" Fingers stroking against the flesh of your inner thigh, sliding them over the fabric of your panties. "Never...sucked his cock, like at all?"

"Not even with Cal. He didn't think I was that type. And, honestly? I think, with Calvin... He was just embarrassed he wasn't as big and thick...as you are."

Ah, shit. You really knew how to work him, to stroke his pride and make him putty in your hands.That settled it. "What a fucking pussy. Get down here." The way you smiled then, eyes lighting up made his own do the same. Cupping your cheek, his fingers caressed your lips a moment, and you opened your mouth, making him shiver as two of his fingers slid inside that warm, wet mouth of yours. Shoving them deep, right where his rings touched against your lips. Your eyes soft, begging, the warmth of your tongue pressed against his fingers, it made him groan, sliding them in and out of you. There was a shiver that ran through you as well, a shock to your system that hit directly to your cunt, the ache growing. He pulled you to him, fingers leaving your mouth and lips crashing against his. The kiss hungry, gripping the back of your head, your hair, swallowing the whimper that flowed from you. How easily he could get you to whimper for him. To think your previous boyfriends wouldn't appreciate that? Wouldn't strive to make you moan and whimper like that on a daily basis? Fucking insane.

Crazier, still, was the confession that they wouldn't let you suck them off. That it was too dirty for you. The hand at the back of your head as his tongue roamed within your mouth, your taste so addicting and making his heart pitter patter and his cock twitch within your grasp still. Shit. His hand moved to grasp at your chin, reluctant but determined to give you what you wanted, pulling away and dazed brown eyes looked into yours, giving a soft peck at your cheek. He watched as your eyes closed, the way you adored his soft touches, the warmth of his breath as he exhaled against your cheek. You watched as he took another cautious look around, despite your words, not wanting to put you at a disadvantage of getting caught, still caring, still wanting the best for you, even if everyone else decided that didn't include Eddie Munson, the freak. You didn't see him that way, though. You were making that very clear to Eddie, to his utter fucking joy.

Licking your lips, the hunger gnawing at you from the inside, you placed your open palm at his stomach, pushing against him slightly. A prideful smile on his lips as he looked at you with adoration at you taking charge at the moment. Eddie leaned back, spreading his legs as you settled between them, lowering down on your stomach. Obliging as you tugged at his jeans, lowering them past his hips for better access. He watched you carefully, cock rigid, stiff, a light twitch as you still grasped him at his base, the head just an inch or so from your lips. It made you smile, of course, knowing he was eager for your mouth, he often always was, but to feel it so physically was something else altogether.

You take the moment to drink in the sight of his cock. It wasn't the first time you had seen it, of course, taking every opportunity you could manage. But you weren't bullshitting when you told him your past boyfriends thought appreciating their cocks like this was...not for you. Being far from a virgin, you've had sex before, as did Eddie, but never really taking the time to enjoy it. Always rushed, always something to get over with and taking you home or to the party, all to fall back on the image of being sweet and virginal, to lie. To play the part they so desperately wanted you to play. Far from it with Eddie, the first boy to not hold your wrists when you tried to undo his belt and simply allowed your hands to wander into his jeans. Always striving to be himself, he afforded you the same, in every aspect, he made you feel brave and accepting of yourself in ways no one else before him had.

That's what you loved about Eddie Munson, everyone calling him a freak for being himself. Maybe you were a freak, too, for loving that about him. And wanting a bit of that yourself. Indulging in these moments with him, seeing the beauty of his cock — and he had such a beautiful cock.

You squeezed him gently, and he let out a slow groan, mostly trapped at the back of his throat, but you heard it, still. He was thick, enough to give you a bit of a stretch when buried inside you, making sure that no one else would feel the same. Your fingertips glided along the underside of him, tracing along the veins, following toward his tip. They pulsed beneath your touch, his stomach rising and falling gently, your tongue, the tip of it, followed your fingertips' path, closing your eyes as the taste of his hardened flesh sparked to your senses. He had such a unique taste, you couldn't describe it, but it made you want more as your mouth slowly ascended to the heavy head, eyes opening to see the bead of precum, so pearly white and waiting.

His dark chocolate colored eyes met yours, looking at you so pleadingly. His eyes could make you do anything, he didn't even have to ask. But the words, "Please, baby..." came in just a gentle whisper, and before you knew it, your tongue swirled along the tip, taking the taste of him onto your tongue and you heard him let out a groan. A shiver running through him that made him utter your name as if a thankful prayer to God. "Thank you," he said, and without even putting thought to it, your lips wrapped around him, his body shivering, a warmth running through him and a shaky breath shot out his lips. Tilting his head back, the feel of your mouth hot, wet, sucking him so greedily it made his head spin. "Baby... Sweetheart... F u c k."

"Mmm..." His taste grabbed at you, consuming you into wanting more. You love the way he felt, even just his head, inside your mouth. Loved the way he seemed so lost when wrapped around your mouth. Your name never sounded so ethereal than when he moaned it out like that. Mouth watering, a hand grasping at his thigh as you worked to get more of him inside you. Slowly at first, moving up and down, feeling the way he throbbed and hearing a curse from his lips. He felt heavy on your tongue, pressing the flat of it against the underside of him. Each time moving down, taking an inch here, there, not minding to gag, but you wanted to savor it. Eddie often worried if you gagged too much, tempted to pull you off, but not wanting that now. Wanting to show how good you could be for him. Feeling your mouth dripping onto him, trails of wetness sliding down his length, your mouth feeling full, yet not quite there, yet.

His hands came to your head, fingers brushing through your hair and holding them tight at the back of your head. Out of the way, for your comfort and selfishly, to see the sight of his cock slowly filling your mouth. "Jesus Christ..." he groaned, his eyes half lidded, wanting to close, begging close with how good it felt, your determination to take all of him so fucking adorable to him. Your little moans when you go down making him twitch inside you, letting out a soft hiss the more you take him, the tighter you feel. Making him want your pussy, to buried deep inside, to make you feel as good as you were making him feel... But then he catches how you squeeze your thighs together, and it makes him smile. "You're doing... Ah, fuck, so good for me, Princess... You won't stop, will you? Not until... Shit, not until..."

His words unfinished as you couldn't help but quicken your movements, lust clouding every movement and decision. You wanted more of him so you were going to get more of him. Feeling your cunt wet, walls squeezing around nothing and wishing he was inside you, squeezing your thighs together instead, moaning around his cock as his tip drew closer and closer to the back of your throat. Every throb of him was encouraging, loving how he felt so alive inside you. Such a wet mess, feeling your mouth water and drenching his length, moving your head faster, the more you could hear it, but you didn't care. Not when you were so close, because he was right, you wouldn't stop, not until — and you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you felt the moment hit, just as the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you stilled. And he gave a strained cry, not seeing how he closed his eyes and cursed into the air. But you moaned, feeling your throat constrict around him, gagging, so obscenely, but not caring.

"Baby, baby, you did it, you did it, fuck, you did it," his words rushed and feverish. The sounds you made driving him crazy, enough to buck his hips, fucking into your mouth. Forcing his eyes to open, staring at you with a soft little whine, seeing you start to move your head again, bobbing up and down his cock and filling your mouth over and over, groaning deep as he hit the back of your throat again and again, the wet sound filling his ears. "...open, open your eyes, please, please, open... There you are," he smiled, a soft little laugh escaping him as your eyes opened, "My sweet fucking girl..." His other hand grasped at your cheek, shaking his head as he saw your eyes almost close again, "No, no, no, don't..." Another hiss coming from him, continuing to meet your mouth with his thrusts, a gag from you squeezing him just right that had him throbbing, a sharp shiver run through him. "Keep your eyes on me, alright? Yeah?" You nodded, prompting him to let out a soft, dreamy sigh. "Good girl..."

God, you wished he hadn't demanded you keep your eyes open, because the sound of that, of him calling you that, made you want to close your eyes as you let out a deep seated moan, vibrations of your mouth cascading over his cock. His lips parted as panted breaths huffed their way out of him, but eyes were on each other, sinking your mouth down onto him. His hand moved from your cheek then, grasping lightly around your throat and you really wished you could close your eyes, then. His finger and thumb squeezed along the sides of your neck and sending you into a dizzying spiral that sent your movements into overdrive, the hand at his base lowered, grasping at his balls, rubbing and giving them attention as you felt yourself choking on his cock. You were wet, soaking, aching between your legs. Your eyes glistening and hand splayed at his stomach, scratching along his happy trail, but looking at him.

With the work of your hand earlier and now, the work of your mouth? You were wrecking Eddie in a way only you could. His cock couldn't sit still, twitching, pulsing so deep into your mouth. His chest heaving, feeling his stomach clenching, a fire slowly building toward a white hot burning he didn't know whether to stay away to make it last or just run toward it. "Jesus fuck, you feel so..." He should probably say something sexy, or... Withholding? Something... Oh, the fuck he knew. "Oh, baby you feel so good... You're doing so —" A withering moan leaving him, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he muttered, closing his eyes, a deep shudder running through his body, tensing, he was close.

As if you sensed it, you lifted your mouth off him with the loudest sounding pop either of you had heard, and to your delight, a thick thread of spit connected your mouth to his cock, watching as the heavy flesh fell on his stomach and he gave a relieved groan. "Thank you, thank you," he muttered softly, squeezing his fingers around your hair. Sliding your tongue along his underside, he was cursing once more as you only moved your lips to his sack, taking it into your mouth and sucking him hard that made his body jerk toward you. An out of breath laugh escaping him, licking his lips, opening his eyes to look at you. "I'm serious, if you did this with anyone else.... I wanna fight them. I'd lose, but sweetheart..." Oh, your hand was stroking him again, a wrangled cry leaving him, lips trembling, that fire burning him from the inside, the faster your hand went, feeling the pulse of his cock in his ears. "I'm gonna fight 'em, I'm gonna.... Every fucking one. Every... Jesus H. Christ, you just.... Just gotta, mm," how did his hips started jerking to your hand? The fuck he knew, but it felt good. "...gotta....gotta take came of me after... Please, please, please, please."

Letting your mouth release him, your hand moving to his waist, lips stretched in a smile as they ghosted over his cock, lapping against the ridge of his cock before sucking him gently along the swollen head. The sounds of his moans encourage you to stroke your hand up and down the throbbing length, taking his head in and out of your hungry mouth. You're ravenous with him, insatiable, even. You can't get enough, sometimes not even at school and you have to beg him to take you to the back of his van. He always gives in, now that he thinks about it, in between the mercy of your lips, your tongue, your mouth descending on him once more. Fuck, he felt so good so deep in your mouth, your throat, hand squeezing at his balls. Rubbing against him, making him shut his eyes. "F u c k !" he cried out, wavering, panting.

You weren't going to let up, the both of you realized, it wasn't a conscious decision on your part and all Eddie could do was take it, enjoy it, fall deeper and deeper into the fucking bliss of you. You were moaning, your eyes closed as you fell into the rhythm of sucking him off, fucking your throat on his cock, you had meant what you said — you weren't innocent. Not how they all viewed you as. "Oh, baby," his words slurring out, jaw tightened and teeth grit together as he seethed. Your name flew from his lips like a prayer — for his sanity. He was throbbing so much in your mouth... Hitting the back of your throat so perfectly, his hips started to jerk towards you. "Fuck, fuck fuck, you're so fucking perfect." His grip on your hair so tight, taking the hint, stilling your movements as his hips took over, bucking into your mouth. Gagging on him with every fierce thrust. Your nails digging into his stomach, making their mark and a strangled moan ripped out of him. "—so perfect. Like this... Like this, so... So fucking... Jesus fucking...Christ, I'm... You're just... Fuck, that's..."

His hips picking up speed, harder and harder as you looked over at him. At his face, seeing the sweat, the concentrated look on him. He looked beautiful like that, lost in the pleasure and it made your cunt throb knowing it was because of you. Making you moan louder, the sound of spit drenching his cock hitting your ears, dripping, chin slick. Always having to be perfect, hair just right, make up perfect, it felt so liberating to let go, to be a mess, and Eddie was the one that let you do so. You wanted him to cum, you wanted him to cum so badly...

And with one strangled moan from him, one hard thrust that filled your mouth to the brim, he did. Followed by another, and another, every moan louder, every thrust harder, his body tensing so much, feeling his insides on fire and his cock? Fuck. White hot pleasure, making him whine, even whimper. You felt so good, so fucking good, and he was sure he said so, in a rush of praises that fell from his lips, all words slurring together like he was drunk. And in a way, he was. Of you, and only you. Cock pulsing, twitching as the tip was just inside your throat, you felt his hand around your neck again. A light little squeeze as your eyes looked up, he was lost, of course, eyes closed but you still didn't take your eyes away. He felt thick and warm, erupting in shuddering waves right to your throat that you swallowed immediately. Loving how it felt, sliding down your throat. He was the one to cum, and so much, but you were the one that couldn't help but moan, feeling your cunt throb and clench, moving your head up and down slowly.

His words had died and he was left moaning, twitching inside your mouth, every movement, he felt himself spilling so fiercely. You loved it, loved it every time and that in itself made him groan as dark brown eyes looked down on you. ".....princess," he uttered so out of breath, you only moaned, sucking at his tip and hand twisted up and down the slick shaft, working him through his climax, hips jerking toward your mouth once more in short little movements. Sensitivity playing its part, it felt good, feeling you so desperate for every drop of him. There were moments where you genuinely craved the taste of him, something so unique. He tasted bitter, at first, but after a while, there was a sweetness to him as well, growing such an appreciation for both you could never really get enough, only when you felt him shake harder than before did you lift your head away, lips leaving him with a wet pop once more and let go, watching as his heavy, thick length fell onto his stomach, pulsing, twitching right there.

You swallowed the remains of him, sticking out your tongue to show him, both chuckling out of breath as you give the underside of his cock one last kiss. "Come here..." he whispered, still feeling the burn course through him, the fire you caused still wrecking havoc through him. You obeyed, of course, moving up on him and lips immediately on one another. His hand was still at your neck, and he squeezed gently once more, a joined moan from you both, shared between panting mouths and another from him as he tasted himself off your tongue. You were a mess, his tongue sliding from your mouth to across your lips, licking the spit that adorned your chin, jaw, nipping the skin gently.

"You don't have to fight anyone, you know..." you uttered softly. Watching as he pulled back, looking quizzically at you, you smiled. "No one else... I mean, when it comes to sucking someone off, you're... You're kind of the first. So, you're the only one that's experienced what my mouth could do like that."

The way his smile widened shouldn't be as cute as it was, the way his eyes lit up, "Shit. Really? Fuck. I mean, that's sad, sweetheart, because that?" He shook his head, kissing you deep, "Fuck," he muttered against your lips, his hand at your throat lowering, sliding over your breasts, towards your stomach and hips. Hiking your dress up above your hips, "Did I taste good?"

"Mmhm," you let out softly, the cold metal of his rings making you shiver against your heated skin as his hand slid along your inner thigh. "You always taste good to me."

"Yeah?" his breath heavy, turning to kiss at your neck. "You're always so eager... I bet you're wet, huh? Aching? First pretty girl I've met to get turned on sucking my cock, princess." And as he moved his hand between your legs, he chuckled softly, grinning against your flesh as you let out a soft moan, his fingers finding the wet spot of the panties you wore and he let out a hiss. "Oh, baby, you're soaked... Jesus fucking christ, that's hot. All for me?" He didn't need an answer, palming his hand against your soaked, clothed cunt. "Yeah, all for me." Your hips started to move against his hand, making him groan as he stilled it, letting you grind against it, feeling his hand grow slick, your soft little moans making him fucking feral.

You knew it made you look desperate, shameless, even. But Eddie never made you feel embarrassed for wanting him, being desperate for him to make you cum. He seemed to thrive on it, just like making him cum did for you. Making you want to try different things, be adventurous when it came to sex. You never felt ashamed for wanting to cum, for having that need, and you fucking loved him for it. You felt him kiss your neck more, his other hand holding you around your waist, wet, sloppy kisses that only made you more needy for him. He was right — blowing him had the effect of making your cunt soppy and so heated, the first few times you thought it was a bad thing. That there was something wrong with being so turned on pleasing someone else. But every moan he gave, every slurred word, it hit you right at your core and your body was helpless.

But he made you see it as a turn on for him as well, making him feel needed, that you enjoyed making him cum that much. Then you started to enjoy it, any ounce of shame evaporated each time you were together. His lips found their way to yours again, cupping his cheek as you kissed him, swallowing his groan, he was so vocal after he came and that was definitely part of why you liked making him cum. More affectionate, feeling the flat of his palm stroke your back. His hand, still between your legs moved, making him swallow your protesting whimper. He breathed a chuckle into your mouth, giving you one more full formed kiss before pulling back and fingers grasped the waistband of your panties, starting to tug them down.

"Mmm—"

"—hmm?"

A soft chuckle coming out of you, seeing his teasing grin, "I thought you were worried about us getting caught, out here in the open?" You saw as he bit his lip, his eyes a bit darker than they were before. "Or, does that only apply to me?"

Eddie let out a soft groan, pecking at your lips with gentle kisses, "'Course not. I still worry about you getting caught. But," he let out a sigh, his fingers continuing to pull your panties lower, as best as he could. "Sweetheart, that was before you made me cum in your mouth," his teeth flashing with his grin. Growing wider at the sound of your laughing, chuckling himself as you buried your face at the crook of his neck. Humming softly as he kissed your shoulder. "I just —" He took in a deep breath, "—I'm nice and relaxed now to worry too much about it?" Pulling back as you looked up at him with the prettiest smile he's seen so far. "Yeah, I don't want you seen or walked in on or get in trouble, not so much me, they expect it from me, but you, no, absolutely not."

"I think I've proven that I'm not the sweet, innocent girl people think I am, though..." You remind him, feeling fit to remind him again and again if that's what it took — and yes, out of your own pleasure as well.

The laugh he gave was deep, his eyes warm, raising his thumb to brush against your swollen bottom lip. "Oh, sweetheart, you did." Nodding with his brows raised, he repeated, "You did. But, I still don't want your pretty wrists in handcuffs, well, okay, handcuffs not by my hand, or dragging me off you because I would fight if it meant holding onto you a bit longer." You hummed, smiling as he pressed his lips against yours in yet another kiss — as if he could ever stop. "But saying that..." A deep breath taken, dark brown eyes looking to you. "...I'm feeling...a bit adventurous. You're making me want to take all sorts of risks, princess..."

It was too good, grinning up at him, you couldn't help it. "Am I ruining you?"

That grin hadn't left him, white teeth a permanent fixture on him at that moment. "Y e a h, God, y e a h," he chuckled, kissing your lips hard, letting out a breath hot against your lips. "You're such a bad influence... You're ruining the fuck outta me. So mean and scary... I'm very into that..."

"Mmm, what a sweet boy you are..." your teasing words said with a caress of his lips against yours. Hearing him hum, it almost sounding like a whine made your heart flutter. His fingers tighten around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down slightly but not enough, not without your assisting him with it. "And...what risks did you wanna take now, pretty boy?" Wanting to hear him say it, needing to hear him say it...

He knew you needed to hear it, too. Letting out a soft growl, eyes darkened, smile stretched and turned wicked. His hand finally pushed your panties as far as he could manage, needing you to do away with them the rest of the way. That was the word, he needed it. Licking his lips, teeth biting his bottom lip for good measure, he gave such a wolfish smile. "You... On my face. Letting me taste and feel how messy you are, just because you love my cock, sweetheart." He moved back, laying further on the ground while his eyes didn't leave yours. Seeing your eyes darken and how hard you swallowed. Your body growing tense, and he swore, he could feel you grow hot. "And yeah, out here in the open, where anyone could walk by and see, and hear us. Making me forget and not care about the consequences of that... But I need it. I need you."

Every word he uttered, your eyes couldn't help but fall on his lips as he spoke, the sound of his voice traveling through you, hitting between your legs and making you throb. You nod, the words, I need you, too, just at the tip of your tongue but failed to slip off and into the air. Instead, it was said with the fierce kiss you laid on his lips, feeling a shudder run through you both. The slight feel of his cock, giving a twitch against your hip. He let out a groan as you pulled away, continuing where he left off. Feeling how wet you truly were, the fabric clinging to your soaked folds as you pulled them away, smiling over at him, knowing he would have enjoyed seeing it with his own eyes and in full view. But, you supposed, draping them over his cock would be the next best thing. Evident by the way he twitched under it once more, shared smiles between you both.

"C'mere...." he nearly whispered, watching as you moved toward him. The thin strap of your dress slid down your shoulder, reminding him that you had no bra underneath, that the dress was all that covered you and that was something he'd keep in mind. But, for now, as you moved toward him, taking care to not let your knees rest on his hair, pulling it back with one hand as your other hiked up your dress. His eyes almost twinkling at the sight of your bare cunt, a proud little hum flowing through him as his hands smoothed over your inner thighs. "F u c k," his words in a hushed whisper, as if more to himself than to you. His lips twitching in a smile, you can feel the fluttering in your stomach because of it, because he has that smile because of you. His tongue swiped across his lips, eyes still drinking you in. "Can't believe you get this wet for me, princess..." The way you glistened, he hadn't even touched you, no, this was because you were getting him off and that brought out a smile out of him. His fingers inching toward you, feeling you shudder under his touch. The drag of the metal rings against your skin, feeling yourself growing hot. You needed him. You needed him.

His fingers were mere inches from your folds, yet still, he looked up at you, brows furrowing, and you knew he was asking permission. You nodded, slowly, biting your lip and preparing yourself for his touch. It comes slow, at first. Delicate little traces along your folds, toying with the wetness, swallowing hard as fingers move back and forth, dipping along the wet flesh, drenching his fingertips in your heated mess. His eyes mesmerized by it, the feel of you shooting right through him and to his cock. Pulsing. Twitching. As if to thank you, he moves to kiss your hip, biting you gently there that makes you gasp softly. It made him smile, fingers now slick moving toward your clit. Slowly. Gently. Two fingers sliding over, making your hips jerk immediately with a soft sound from your lips.

You were so cute, he thought. Grinning against your hip, still, swirling those fingers against you, smooth circles, you felt like silk underneath his calloused fingers. Sending sharp shivers through you, closing your eyes as your breathing hitched, his tongue licking against the flesh of your hip now, his hot breath followed as he continued his ministrations. His fingers drove you crazy, yours were too soft, as were your past boyfriends, so soft, but his were rough, not clumsy, but skilled, playing you as he did his guitar. The feel of his teeth added to it, as he bit you with a groan. Your breath panting, hips moving so gently against his fingers, his movements slow, making you want more. As if he sensed it, his fingers started to pick up. Not too much, sliding back and forth, your slick helping in the smooth motions as he kissed your hip more, letting his lips glide against your skin, toward your stomach. Hearing your soft panting pick up as well, a soft groan against your stomach now. He loved to hear your moans... —

"E d d i e," you let out, in a warning or plea, you honestly weren't sure. But he smiled against your stomach either way, the soft breath of his chuckle hitting you, lifting his eyes to see that pout on your face. Adorable. Biting at your skin, feeling you shudder in his embrace as his hand moved. Slick fingers gliding from your clit and through your folds, a deep hum vibrating against your stomach. You could feel your walls clench in anticipation, your teeth biting your bottom lip and eyes closed. His fingers finding your opening, sinking them into you — slowly, as a growl settled from his lips — "Ah..." the word came from your lips, delicate, uneven. Feeling the stretch of his thick fingers, as if your cunt as impatient as you were getting, drawing his fingers deeper. "Shit..."

"Jesus fucking Christ..." the words said with a deep chuckle, almost dark, just as was the shade of his brown eyes as he looked up at you, a lustful gaze burning just for you. Gazes connect, though it was growing difficult, keeping your eyes on him as he dragged his fingers in and out of you. Walls clenched around him so tightly, as if embracing him. As if it hadn't been only a day since he filled you with his fingers and cock. Every gentle thrust sending a wave through you, a panting breath, a soft little moan. He was going to be hard for you, again, he knew, though he wanted to take his sweet time. Draw out the orgasm from you slowly, or until he lost control like he so often did. With a groan, he laid his head back, drawing your hips a bit closer, darkened eyes looking down your body, right where his fingers disappeared inside you. Cock twitching, pulsing to life. You shouldn't affect him like this, but you do, seeing how your stomach clenched the deeper his fingers went, burying them knuckle deep and curving them.

There was a low rumble, though it felt distant to you both. His eyes transfixed by your cunt, feeling you so tight around him, how wet and heated, tongue poking out, licking his bottom lip. You wished you could take your dress off, the feel of him inside you making your skin heat up, chest heaving with quickened breath. Pleasure, the kind only he brought out, swept right through you, getting lost in it so much that the thought of someone seeing you just slipped away from you. Your own hand moving forward, grasping his curls at the top of his head and clutched tightly. Just to have something to anchor you to reality, feeling you'd float away as his fingers continued to stroke themselves along your clenched walls, your moans a little louder each time, entangled with your panting breath. If your eyes were open, you'd see a flash of white light, though all you could hear was the sound of your sopping cunt drench his fingers, a smile on your face as a soft cry escaped you, body shaking at the feel of his calloused thumb swipe across your clit, bending forward as he kept doing it. "F u c k, Eddie..."

You couldn't see how he smiled, a mix of awe and wickedness. Dark brown eyes trained on your cunt, seeing his fingers at work. You really were...so beautiful like this. Every sound you make made his heart swell with pride. Calvin couldn't do this. According to you, that meathead wouldn't dare. He curved his fingers inside you more, looking for that spot, that precious that made you — There it was, your cries louder and your fingers pulled at his hair that made him groan in appreciation. "Shit!," you cried out, red hot, feeling your body pulse, thighs beginning to shake, and he only pressed and rubbed against it more, your jaw tensed, "Oh God, that... Shit.." You both could hear the wet friction of his movements. "That's...." Your words halted as his thumb picked up speed against your clit, movements quick, and wet, so fucking wet and the most primal sounds poured out of your lips. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, don't..."

"I won't stop, sweetheart..." came his voice, to your utter relief. You nodded, feeling his hand at the back of your hips, pulling you closer. Looking at you like this, moaning and wet around his fingers, the feel of you so tight around him the deeper he was inside you. The moans spilling from your lips weren't the only primal thing between you, his mind going hazy, the need for your taste growing until he brought you close enough to slip his fingers out of you, growling at the feel of your cunt so reluctant to feel him go, clinging to him to the last second. "I know, baby, I know, but I just gotta..." he groaned, hands splayed at your thighs and with encouragement, pressed the sweet, messy cunt against his mouth. Hearing your shaky breath, he hummed, first kissing your clit and tongue slid out, the flat of it sliding across it. His fingers tightening along your flesh, a gasp from your lips. He moaned, breathing heavy against you, the tip of his tongue circling along your clit, then, encouraging you to move, allowing his tongue to move between your folds, taste some of the mess that he caused. And it was the sweetest mess he's tasted of you so far.

You've never had someone so eager to taste you like this, it made sense, since you were always so eager to use your mouth on him. It was a delightful give and take between the two of you, and now he was certainly taking. You closed your eyes to the darkening sky, ignored the shiver of the cold, how could you take notice when his tongue trailed closer towards your hole, pulling you closer upon his face and you felt the tip of his nose nudge against your clit as the tip of his tongue push into you. A shaky breath seeped from you, causing your hips to rock gently against him, pushing him further inside. Feeling his tongue stiffen, the vibration of his moan traveling up against you. Every gentle rock of your hips has his nose moving against your clit, bring about gentle waves of pleasure to course through you, making you feel heat, warming you to the touch.

Eddie did like you like this, coherent thought leaving your head and only to react to what his actions were doing to you. He was the same, and fuck, you tasted sweeter the deeper his tongue was inside you. His name kept falling from your lips, strained, each time causing his cock to throb and a moan pressed against your pretty little cunt. He's admit, he'd not had a lot of experience, not a lot of girls, at the very least to the point of maybe having to exaggerate here and there with his friends, but your pussy? Your cunt? The prettiest fucking pussy he's ever seen, shivers running up and down his spine as you rocked it against his tongue, his mouth, your fingers in his hair, pulling slightly made him groan. Gripping you tightly as he slid his tongue in and out of you just a little faster. So soft and wet, tasting you, fuck, how sweet you were.

You were driving him crazy, and he was doing the same to you. Pleasure gripping at you, tightly, clawing at your insides as you started to pant and moan. He was reluctant to pull away, a small cry leaving your lips, desperate for more, but it was short lived as his tongue trailed to your clit once more. Lapping against it, flickering over it quickly and another cry left your lips — this time of relief. "Jesus fuck—" tumbled from your lips, his dark eyes on you as your eyes were closed, forgetting the world, just him, just his tongue, and as the cold metal of his rings traveled further up your thighs and you felt yourself tensing with anticipation.

He didn't make you wait long, you were so wet, so slick, there was hardly any resistance when he buried two of his thick fingers inside you. "God, f u c k, yes..." you panted out, thighs quivering as he curled his fingers as his mouth captured and sucked sloppily on your clit, reaching, caressing that special spot that made your hips jerk forward, a cry erupting from your lips. Feeling his ringed fingers inside you, slowly sliding in and out of you, your wetness claiming them and the pressure on your clit as he sucked grew stronger. "Fuck... F u c k, Eddie, Eddie..." your voice whined, as he moaned, his other hand moving, smacking against the flesh of your ass and gripped you there. Nodding wordlessly as he let go of your clit, stiffened his tongue against it, and you slowly started to move your hips again. His fingers stilled as well, sliding in and out of you through your movements alone, moving deeper, faster as your moans fell from your lips at the feeling of him deep inside you, angling to hit you there, rubbing your clit against his tongue as well. Fucking yourself on him, showing him how desperate you were becoming, just for him. You both loved that.

He wished he could grip himself, stroke his cock to you, but his eyes were hazy, watching your face as you moved, led by desire and lust. You were so fucking perfect, he moaned against your cunt, once in a while flicking his tongue over that bundle of nerves, feeling it pulse against him. Curling his fingers a bit more, stroking the insides of your walls clenching around his digits so tightly. "Such a perfect fucking pussy..." he breathed hotly against you, moaning as he sucked and sucked, feeling you tremble at his words. His girl loved to be praised, he thought with a smile. "Don't hold back, baby..." he breathed, taking a moment to raise his mouth at your hip, biting hard at the flesh, hoping to leaving a mark, praying to leave a mark. "I want you to cum, I want you to cum so bad."

You were close, especially as his other hand slid forward and gave attention to your clit, "Oh, fuck," you practically growled, not only feeling his fingers inside you, but not to your throbbing clit, the joint pleasure of it, concentrating on moving against his fingers inside you, body trembling as he added a third finger, you were sure you were going to come undone. Body tightly wound, succumbing to the waves he was giving you, this time, you did hear the thunder, eyes opening wide as you caught a flash of light hit across the sky. "Shit," you let out, jaw slack as his fingers picked up, thrusting in and out of you harder, making you gasp and pant. "N—oh, fuck, Eddie... Shit... Fuck," moans strangled within a laugh you wanted to let go. "It's...." Words were failing you, grasping at the back of his head, for a moment only hearing your own wetness ring out, coating his fingers, "Ed—Eddie, it's... Jesus fuck, that feels..."

He was lost in it, as were you, the sounds of your cries seeping from your lips so seamlessly, one after the other, was his only concern, even with the first few raindrops. You didn't feel the cold, just the white hot heat that was coursing through you, eyes closing once more, body stilling and growing tense. "Yes, yes, fucking christ," the rain was gentle at first, a light drizzle, easy to ignore. At first, anyway. But his fingers continued, his teeth biting at your hip getting harder, a fine mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you, making you let out a loud whimper. Your fingers squeeze along his hair tighter, as his lips trail back to your clit, steadily flicking his tongue over it, humming deep against you. Giving you the jolt of pleasure you apparently needed, your hips moving, soon enough riding his tongue as he kept it still.

The rain started to pick up, raining down harder the more deep into it the two of you became, closer to unraveling you were. Dripping over his mouth, his fingers, feeling his free hand stroking the bare flesh of your ass. You could feel your hair and that dress getting wet, starting to weigh you down, a shiver running through you but not knowing if it was because of the rain or Eddie's tongue, or the way his finger curled and hit you just right, making you shut your eyes and let out a cry. Your body shuddered, feeling cold and hot at the same time. Did he know it was raining? He didn't let up. You could hear him moaning, stilling your hips as his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked hard and unforgiving, bringing out the most primal sounds from your lips. The sound of thunder drowning it out for the most part, gripping his hair, an attempt to pull him away. "Eddie... Eddie, the rain, I... Shit... The rain..."

But you only felt the clap of his hand against your ass, hard, a warning, letting out a gasp as you looked down. Dark brown eyes staring up at you. A whine left you, as he furrowed his brow. Understood, biting your lip and you give a nod. Starting to let go, his hands gripped where he held you, tongue flickering against you, catching your taste as you moaned helplessly. Breathless. Louder. Your walls clenching around his fingers as he buried them deep. That little spot. That perfect little spot. "Oh, god, oh...fuck, yes, right there..." Each breath you let out sounding shaky, him growling, feeling your thighs start to shake. That was the only movement he let you have, kissing against your clit sloppily. The pads of his fingertips stroking along that spot, feeling your body tense up each time, stilling your hips as it wanted to jolt at every stroke.

He knew it was raining, he did, it was hard not to. But was harder was for him to stop, his mind a haze with every sound of your moan. Every squeeze of his fingers, every taste his tongue could find. He was going to make you cum.

He was going to make you cum.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you groaned, panting for breath in the heavy rain, it pouring down at the both of you. Some of the rain dropped onto your tongue, crisp and clear, yet you could still hear yourself, even with the thunder, the flash of lightning behind your closed eyes. How wet you were for him, as he pumped his fingers harder into you, stroking his fingers inside you, harder and harder, tongue matching the pace as good as he could. The vibrations of his groans, hums, making you a moaning mess, crying out with every release of your breath. "There, there, there, fuck, you shouldn't be so good at that, you should be so good—shit, shit, there, fuck, yes—!" You couldn't help it, feeling yourself bend forward, over his head and grasping at the wet grass. You were cumming. Words escaping you, sneaking up on you so suddenly, not able to tell him, but fuck if he knew.

Thrusting his fingers faster, making you scream into the wet ground, your lips finding the top of your wrist and biting down. The build up so sweet, so painful, so needed, when you came it was hard and fast, a whimpering cry coming from you, your walls squeezing around his fingers thrust so deep inside you, as if embracing him in thanks. He groaned, kissing your clit, your inner thigh and biting you there, making your hips jolt slightly. "Good girl," he let out, making you want to cry. "You're such a fucking good girl, princess..." You hissed softly, whining when you felt his fingers stroke you still, but gently, slowly, working you until you could gather yourself, your body spent but still eager for more, moving against him until he slowly withdrew them.

He gave your hip a gentle kiss before slipping out from behind you, letting you lay in your stomach a moment. Your mind was in a wet haze, the cold water raining down making you shiver against your heated body. He stayed close, one hand stroking your ass while the other reached toward your face, still slick and coated with your sweetness, it didn't take much from you to wrap your lips around them, greedily, deep into your mouth, humming at the taste of yourself on them — mixed with the rain. It made him smile, nice and wide as he bent over and kissed the crook of your neck. "God, that's my girl," he muttered against your ear, you letting out a hum. Still blissed out, but responsive. His now free hand grasping your hip, bare and wet, you both were at this point. Squeezing your hip, he kissed below your ear, looking at the van. "We can get back at the van. I got blankets, we can—" But you let out a huff, turning around and capturing his lips in a kiss that took his breath away. "Baby..."

It wasn't smart, or logical, his proposition was actually kind of nice. You knew he had a mattress as well, for when he wanted to be alone, and recently, those included being alone with you. But the adrenaline was still coursing through you, still feeling good because of him. "Fuck me..." you whispered against his lips, and he growled, his grip on you tightening. His cock hard from watching you come undone just mere moments before. You could still feel your clit pulsing, a bit of sensitivity to be had. But you didn't care. You wanted him. Needed him. "Right here... Fuck me..."

Jesus Christ.

He should say no, that it was still risky, but that same adrenaline that ran through you was running through him. "My princess wants to get fucked in the rain?" You had nodded, pulling him in for another kiss, returning it in full. Shit. It was something he hadn't done before, in the rain, out in public. It was....enticing enough, but now, he just needed to be inside you. Feel you close, make you feel good. His mind a mess, as he was sure yours was too, he ended the kiss, trailing his lips over the curve of your neck, fingers raised to pull down the straps of your dress. You didn't have a bra. He remembered that, watching as you lifted yourself and your dress peeled down your body, turning to face him and watched as your breasts came into view. "Jesus...fucking... Christ," he growled, watching in time as your lips came to his again.

You felt cold, yet it was his warmth that sustained you, the wet fabric of your dress around your waist, settling yourself between his legs as he sat on the ground. You were tired before, the strength of your climax taking a lot out of you. But the thought of him inside you drove you forward, tongue sliding into his waiting mouth as you settled onto him. His hands reaching toward your hips, resting at the back of your thighs. Gripping you tightly, his hum swallowed by you in your kiss. He pulled your hips forward, the slick of your folds sliding along the underside of his hardened cock, resting against his stomach, brought a gasp from you both. You felt warm, heated and wet, even as the cold rain poured down on you both. You could feel the veins of his cock just slightly, as one movement of your hips turned to another, your hands moving to his shoulders, gripping him tightly. You had no business feeling this good, he thought. Making him groan and grunt as his hands were no longer needed, sliding them away from you as your hips continued, your folds parted and grinding against his cock.

It was a teasing movement, but he just couldn't stop, not yet, as heated breaths were shared between you two. He felt so good, too. You pressed down against him, movements first short and teasing, now longer, languid in their movements, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you as the head of his cock met and rubbed against your clit. He liked how you shuddered each time, how soft your moan was against his lips, soft and needy, making his heart race. His hands gripping at the grass below him, leaning back slightly and letting you take over. "You're like a fucking Angel, Sweetheart," he muttered, a soft whine from your lips following, as you went faster. It was his turn to shudder, falling deeper into what you were doing to him.

With the rain, it was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open, for the both of you, leading one another with touch alone. The throb of his cock meeting the throb of your clit, you let out a soft whimper, feeling your pussy ache, walls clenching around nothing. He felt good, clit pulsing and sending shocks of pleasure through you... But it wasn't enough. Your hands raising from his shoulders to the back of his neck, tangling fingers into his hair as you kissed him deep, a joined moan between you. "I need you inside me, baby..." you whined against his mouth, a whimper coming from him. "Please? Please, Eddie, baby, please..."

A soft chuckle rolls out from him, "Fuck, love it when you call me baby like that..." How could he refuse? Releasing his grip on the grass, hands dirty as he moved over to your body, wet and slick with the rain, turning his lips to the side of your neck, giving a hard bite and a kiss. Your lips by his ear, humming as you let out a groan at the bite, his hands just touching your skin, feeling oddly warm against his touch. "Tell me you want it, princess... Tell me how bad you want it..."

You hissed, desperate, pleading, trying to move your hips but his hands gripped them suddenly, making you still. A pitiful sound coming out of you, chest rising and falling in short huffs. "I want it..." He tutted, and you knew that wasn't good enough, squirming in his grip. "...I want your cock, Eddie..." He took a deep breath, and you knew that was better. "I want your cock so bad inside me... Deep..." He let out a soft moan, kissing your neck again, making you shiver. "I want it so deep it hurts. Cunt aching for you... I need you. I want you."

Your words were sweet to his ears, enough for his cock to pulse and throb, wanting your sweet cunt as well. "Fuck..." he breathed out, tongue sliding along the pulse of your neck and sucking on it hard. Wanting a mark to appear the next day, grasping the base of his cock. "Such a good girl...." The tip of him sliding back and forth against your folds, and he could hear the gasp against his ear so crisply, even with the sound of the hard water raining down. He dreamed of your moans, your gasps, your cries, making him wake up harder than he ever had been before you. "I'm gonna give my baby what she wants... Will that make my baby girl happy?"

"Mmhm," you let out, pathetically, gripping his hair tighter, your breath hitched in the anticipation of it. Your legs spreading further, the thoughts of before, of being caught, you almost wished they did. That Cal did. Every one of your snobby friends that ditched you, that only cared when you wanted to be who they wanted you to be. To be with who they deemed worthy. You wanted them to see how happy Eddie God Damn Munson made you feel... Feeling the tip of him right at your opening, a soft huff leaving your lips, his bite on your neck adding to the feel of you sinking down on his cock. Feeling the vibrations of his groan against your neck, your breath hitching as you take him slowly. Thick. Bigger. It was always a stretch the first time he sinks into you.

You're tight for him, driving him hazy and lustful, his cock throbbing already and he'd only have his tip inside you. "Jesus fucking Christ, sweetheart..." he breathed against your neck, a whining brought out from you. His hands at your hips, only to be swatted away from your hands. It made him smile, a soft little laugh escaping as he pulled away from you, wanting to take control but knowing you were a determined little thing. Stubborn. He fucking loved that about you. "Okay, baby, okay..." he assured you, once again taking his hands off and leaning slightly back, your hands gripping at his wet shirt. Nodding toward you, he hummed, "All you, princess. Take every single inch... My cock is so fucking yours..."

There was a light giddiness at his words, giving a determined nod, your hand going toward one of your thighs, bracing yourself, as you continued to sink down on this length. "Fuck..." you let out, more to yourself than anything, every inch bringing a stretch inside you, feeling him shudder, feeling him pulse as your walls stretched to fit him, clenching so tightly as well. "Oh, God..." He always left you breathless, this time no different, and he watched you in awe — well, watched your pussy in awe, he should say. Swallowing hard, water dripping down his nose, watching, appreciating, groaning as he felt himself go deeper and deeper into you. So wet and warm. And Eddie, so hard and thick, your slickness coating him the further he went, and you were doing good, so good. Panting, whimpering slightly. "Eddie, you feel...so good, fuck... Baby... Baby..."

"...you're... Oh, fuck, you're doing so good..." he encouraged you, thunder rolling in, though it was definitely in the back of his mind. "Wanna fuck up into you already, so bad..." And god, he did, the feel of you so perfect. Better than he thought he deserved. "But baby, you can do it... God, you can fucking do it. I believe in you. Princess you always take me so perfectly... Shit. Keep going, sweetheart. Be my good girl, alright? Be my good—"

His words cut off, pushing through his words, a cry wrangled from both of you, your eyes shut tight. You did it. His good girl did it. And there was a sense of pride, feeling so fucking full of him, every inch, all of his girth, settled deep and entirely inside you. Rewarded with the feel of his hands at your hips, his eyes remained open, looking to the bliss expression on your face. No one's ever made him feel this good. so hot, so wet, so tight around him. "That's it... That's fucking..." He groaned, his voice lightly strained, pecking at your cheek as you let out a moan. Impatient already, feeling your move against him, entranced with the feel of his swollen head at the deepest part of you, that special place that no one else had touched. Not even by your own fingers. Only Eddie. And he knew it, the way you bit your bottom lip, moving back and forth, a teasing touch against that very spot.

You two were the same, you must be, as he growled against your cheek, guiding your hips to a more confident pace. Watching as you furrowed your brow, lips parting to let out soft little moans — fuck, he loved those little moans. Your cunt was taking him well, his cock moving inside you easier. You grabbed his shoulders once more, your breath coming out harder, faster. "Shit. Fuck. You're so—" A surprised gasp came out of you, he grabbed your hips, pulled you closer and pushed himself inside you, "Oh, fuck! Eddie...." His breath was hot against your cheek, closing his eyes as he settled into a pace, slamming his hips as deep as he could, driven by your moans, flashes of light running across the sky, thunder booming in the distance. But you didn't care, all you could care about was the sound of his hips hitting against you, of his cock slamming and hitting that spot, that fucking spot, that made your thighs quiver.

The way your cunt clenched around his cock the deeper he went, his fingers gripping you tighter and tighter. It was addicting, groans pushing past his lips with heated breath. His eyes closed, completely taken by the feel of you around his cock. So tight, feeling your pussy flutter around him. But Calvin's words hit him suddenly, and a growl escaped him, his hips snapping harder against you, causing you to cry out. It wasn't jealousy, really, that hits him, that knowing that meathead had you once. You two were kind of the IT couple in school, he remembered, envious, kind of. But him coming at Eddie like he did, as if being with him was so horrible for you, it made him burn. "Did your pal, Cal ever fuck you like this, Princess?" his voice deep, hard like gravel.

It took you a moment to register the words, so caught up in the pleasure his cock was giving you. Almost too much, almost not enough. The way his cock slammed against you, sending waves of pleasure to consume every part of you, making your mind hazy, only thinking of Eddie and how full he made you. Yeah, it took a moment for his words to hit you, to unfurl in your mind to the point of comprehension. When it did, your brows furrowed, giving a squeeze of your fingers in his wet hair. "I... What?" Did Cal...?

"Did..." His hips snapping harder, "Cal...." Again, harder, your body moving with the impact, feeling his cock throb, making him shudder with a groan. "....fuck you...." He hissed at the next thrust, squeezing you tight. "....like this?"

"...Oh, God..." your words a hushed gasp, an rolling whimper falling from your lips, words lost to you as he continued his movements, thrusting into you harder. He heard every word, your lips by his ear, every little cry, sob, moan. Your body feeling on fire, no longer feeling the cold of the rain pouring down on you both, still. It getting harder and harder the longer you two were fucking. Gathering yourself, you squeeze around him, shaking your head. "N—No... No, no...." you finally answered, a sob threatening to halt your words. "Not like this..." your words slurring, feeling how he pulsed when buried so deep inside you. "Only you... Only you've fucked me....like this...."

An approving hum settled out of him, an ease on his heart, moving down and biting your shoulder, smoothing it with a kiss. "He's never....shit, you're so fucking tight...." Losing himself temporarily with the heavily feel of your pussy gripping him so... fuck. "Shit... He's never....made you feel this good?"

"No..." a soft laugh escaping you. "No one has.... You feel so fucking good..."

"How? Tell me..."

You groaned, burying your face at his neck, finding your hips meeting his. The feel of him overwhelming, but needing more of him. That desperate need always there. Did Cal really messed him up that much? "....you're thick. So fucking thick... Fuck!" You cry out, as he had let out a growl and snapped his hips against you. Swallowing hard, you try to continue. "I... Um... The way you kiss me.... I get wet from your kiss alone sometimes... The uh... You touch me, more than he did... Get me wet, get me soaking... The way you taste me, eating me out, determined to make me cum more than once... Yet you're blown away when I want to blow you..." A breathless laugh comes out of you, and you can feel him smile. "It's... It's really fucking cute, sometimes... You care...when you're fucking me... It's not....just getting your dick wet... you care about me. Care about how I'm feeling... And it..." You were struggling, he had stopped, laying down on the wet ground, allowing your hips to move. A gentle rising and falling on his cock, every descent down taking your breath away.

"Go on," he said in a strained voice, his hands finding your hips, stroking the skin gently. It was difficult, to make out your body, the harder you brought yourself down on his cock, the harder the rain seemed to pour. Brighter, was the lightening, and that helped, that definitely helped, a groan falling from his lips at every flash of light that gave him the view of your breasts,bouncing lightly as you went, the way your eyes were closed so tight, lips parted, letting out moan after moan, trying so hard to come up with the words he wanted to hear you say... His eyes traveling down, seeing your stomach clenching every time you took him deep. He moaned, eyes half lidded, pleasure coursing through him. You felt so tight and perfect. There was another flash and he saw his own cock, sucked in by your cunt.

You were right, he did care. Eddie Munson loved seeing how good he made you feel. It wasn't entirely selfless, he'll admit. There was pride, a stroking of his ego when he heard the sounds you made. Felt how wet you were... The other girls, they... God, they didn't feel like you. Weren't as excited as you. Not as tight, not as warm, not nearly as wet as you got. They definitely weren't eager to suck his cock like you did, either. He'd fucked before, but with you? It was different, it was new... Watching you take his cock, bouncing on it harder and harder, it made him throb and pulse, a burning to cascade all over him. The thunder rolled, louder and louder, his chest heaving almost in time with it.

His cock would be your undoing, in more ways than one. The way your walls clenched around him, squeezing him tighter and tighter.... It wouldn't be long, and you were almost sad about the fact. "I..." you swallowed hard, trying to remember where you had left off, before distracted by the feeling of his cock, simply inside you, deeper, he told you to go on, but you could hardly think outside of wanting to cum. "....fuck, I love having you inside me, Eddie.... Shit.... I can't..." Your movements quickening, a sob coming out as you leaned forward, keeping him deep.

He hissed, his grip on your hips tightening, just holding on, letting you move on your own. "It's okay, baby.... Fuck, princess...." Your hands reaching around him, your face buried at the crook of his neck and feeling the heated breath of your moans made his eyes roll back. His cock was pulsing more, throbbing, wanting to feel you cum all over his cock. He wouldn't last long, the feel of you squeezing around him tightly, your sweet body moving so desperately on him. "...I love it when I'm inside you, too, sweetheart..." His voice barely a whisper, moving to kiss just below your ear with a hum. "Your cunt so perfect for me... Taking my cock so well... So wet and tight... Watching you ride it, take it because you love it so much, don't you?"

"Y e s..." you let out in a moan, his words making your hips go faster, the sound of thunder hitting your ears, but the sweet sound of his moans hitting you deeper. Making you whimper, encouraging you to keep going, the tip of his cock grazing that spot, filling you with that clawing pleasure. Sparking from within you, making you cry out every time it hits just right. "I fucking love it... How you feel... Oh, God, I love your cock so much..." Your fingers almost pierces his skin, bouncing on his cock once more, the feel of wet skin as hips collide, filling your ears and senses.

He could feel his stomach clenching, grunting, growling, as the pleasure filled you, he could feel it in his blood and bones, his chest stinging, inhaling deep the cold, wet air and he didn't care. Your words filled him with such pride, your cunt so sweet around him, he bit your neck, growling once more as you let out a cry. "Whose cock do you fucking love, princess? Hm?" His lips biting their way over your jaw, feeling himself throb and pulse inside you, "Baby, you feel so good," he muttered under his breath, rasping. "Mmm... Such a sweet little cunt... Tell me, baby, whose cock do you love so fucking much you can't help but take it like a good girl?"

His words and cock getting out a sob out of you, your breath shuddering, white heated pleasure coursing through you, feeling it to your fingertips, to your toes as they curled, yet your body went on, faster and faster, rising and falling on his thick length that felt so slick inside you now. "Y o u r s," you let out in a mangled cry. You felt him shaking his head with a groan, a hand slapping your ass hard, your body jolted and you let out a despairing cry. "But — oh, f u c k, baby —" you gasped, feeling the tightness starting to form at your stomach, not knowing if it was the rain or tears rolling down your cheeks. "Baby... Baby it's your cock—"

"Say my fucking name, Princess." His voice low, deep, his eyes opened and dark, only illuminated by the flash of lightning then. "I wanna hear you say my name."

"I..." A gasp escaping as his hand smacked your ass once more, the stinging pain lingering, a moan following as the pain mingled with the pleasure. "...Eddie..." you let out, eyes opening to see his face, not quite pleased, rectifying that as you let out, "....Eddie Munson..."

Fuck, that made him purr with utter fucking delight. Gripping your hips tight, bucking his hips up to meet yours. Making you pant, making him let out a guttural moan. "Mmm, that's right.... Whose cock is making you feel so good right now?"

"Oh, fuck... Eddie Munson's..."

"Whose cock so fucking belongs to you?"

You couldn't help but smile at that, a hiss and groan following. "Mmm, Eddie Munson's..." Your joined movements driving him deeper if possible, causing waves to crash over the both of you. The two of you feeling the other's impending climax, felt how you both shivered against each other's touch, working together. Matching each movement, each breath, each moan. You couldn't help it, the words falling from your lips, "...whose cunt is yours, Eddie?" The words almost a whine, his hips snapping hard at that, making your cry out. "Whose cunt squeezes around you so tight, loves you so much, gets so wet... Wanting... Oh god, fuck, wanting..." You felt your thighs start to quiver, a sharp wave washing over you in warning. Walls squeezing his length, feeling his chest rise and fall quick. Thunder, lightning, the rain pouring down harder and harder, steadily on the two of you. "...wanting..." You had to get it out, "Oh, god, wanting to feel you..." A strained whimper making you trail off, feeling his hips move, fucking you harder, faster, a sob rolling out of your mouth. "...oh...fucking....god...!" Growling, meeting his hips with the same fervor, he wasn't making it easy. "...wanting... to feel you...fill it...so deep...so much...every...every fucking drop—"

"Jesus fucking Christ..." he groaned, saying your name, over and over like a prayer. "Yours, yours, so fucking yours..." His voice gravelly, husky, "I'm gonna...I'm gonna fucking give it to you, too. Sweet little cunt gonna take every fucking drop, squeeze me so much, gonna...fucking.... Jesus, fucking..." Growling deep, he paused, reaching for his jacket that was on the ground. Wet, but still a barrier between the grass and you, as he he moved you to lay on your back. Kissing your neck as he did, sorrowfully slipping out of you, though he chuckled lightly at your protesting whine. "So fucking cute..." he muttered, kissing your lips. "Don't worry, sweetheart... You'll get exactly what you want. You always do, baby..."

You seemed satisfied, as he was between your legs, his wet cock sliding along your drenched folds. But for a moment, he was distracted, the sight of your breasts in view. A soft smile coming over him, as if he could go on and not pay them a little attention? Bending down and laying a tender kiss at the soft flesh, he let out a groan as his tongue lapped against the hardened tit, wrapping his lips and sucking gently. You arched your back, pressing it firmer against his mouth. The cold metal of his rings, colder for the rain and wind that started to pick up, make you shiver as it grasps your other breast. Squeezing, pinching your tit, an electric shock shooting straight to your core, but it only made you whine. Feeling his heavy cock against your folds, sliding over your swollen, pulsing clit, but your walls clenched around nothing. Missing his cock, needing him more than you did before.

It only struck him then that his shirt was still on, popping off your tit to take it off. You could barely see the exposed skin, how soft it looks, pale, but the ink of his tattoos had never been more crisp and clear to your vision in comparison. Your fingers reaching up to trace over them, as he rolls his shirt and puts it beneath your head, an attempt at comfort. It makes your heart soar, and eyes close in relief as he slides so easily inside you once more. A relieved moan coming from you both, his fingers come to your mouth and you open them without a single thought. Pressing his fingers inside, two of them, sucking and wetting them immediately before he slides them out.

You feel his lips on yours, kissing him back immediately as your hands find his forearms, clinging to them tightly. You find his fingers, the ones that were just in your mouth, touching your clit. Your moan is swallowed immediately, hips involuntarily moving against the way the pads of his fingertips swirl in little circles over it. His cock moving in and out of you in a slow pace, filling you deep, hiking your legs over his hips. His other hand slides towards your neck, wrapping around it and squeezing at the sides, giving you a dizzying feeling, the vibrations of your groan felt by him, making him end the kiss with a bite of your lower lip, tugging it with a growl. "Princess...."

"...Mmm?" you mustered, your chest rising up and down, the slow pace of his cock torture, the build from moments before was a dull ache, wanting to strike up again.

"Whose cock...do you love?"

Shit. A rising breath, a swallow felt by his hand at your throat, humming softly, "Eddie Munson's."

You were rewarded with a sharper snap of his hips, a sharp moan leaving you. "Good girl..." he growled, kissing your lips. Thunder was roaring, lips finding your neck as he bite hard, making you whine and yelp. Hips moving a bit faster, not too much, though it was difficult to restrain himself. "Your pussy feels so fucking good, baby... Fuck..." He could feel you squeezing him, having his hips stutter forward, feeling too good to resist. "Jesus fucking Christ..." Pulsing, throbbing inside you, his hips picking up in speed, groaning deep, finding himself chasing the high. His cock hitting you deep so perfectly, squirming underneath him, your moans and cries hitting his ears before anything else. "Oh, baby, am I making you feel fucking good?"

"Yes, yes, yes," and he was, that tightening building again, steady and fast. "So, so fucking good..."

He bit his lip, his cock not the only thing swollen at the words. He wondered if you did that on purpose, said shit like that for his ego or just...because you couldn't help it. He was afraid to ask, but now, right at that moment, he was led by your moans, your cries, and the feel of your fucking cunt as he fucked you. Harder. Faster. Ragged breath flowing between you both, his lips and teeth at your shoulder, biting on the flesh hard. "Fuck, fuck, f u c k! Such a sweet fucking.... Shit..." His words hot against your shoulder, he could feel his heart, pulsing and beating hard against his chest, his hips moving seamlessly, a continuous motion, and god, it was driving you crazy. Your nails had dug into his skin, sure to leave a mark, and the thought made him smile. "Whose making you feel so fucking good right now, sweetheart?"

"Eddie.... Fuck.... Eddie Munson..." you said in a daze, your back arched, white heat filling you, the height of pleasure, rising higher and higher. "Such a fucking...perfect...fucking cock..." you hissed, closing your eyes, letting it all wash over you, taking you to where you needed. Words falling from your lips, "Filling me up so fucking good, Eddie... Want so much of you inside me, leaking, making such a fucking mess..."

He groaned, loved it when you talked like that. It drove him crazy, you, who everyone thought was so sweet, and you were, at school, the sweetest girl... Yet with his cock inside you, pounding into you like he was now... He chuckled, "Such a pretty, filthy girl... Loving my cock so much... You never beg like this or talk so dirty with those jocks do you?" You only shook your head, making him groan, quickening his fingers on your clit, enjoying the sound of your cries because of it. "No, no, my girl loves my cock the best. Oh, sweetheart... I'm gonna fill you up so much... You're gonna be leaking of me for a fucking week."

"Oh, fuck, yes... Yes, please... Shit..." You should be ashamed at the thought turning you on so much, but you're not. The thought of his cum spilling out of you when you least suspect it...brings out a moan as his fingers flick from side to side against your clit, "Oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes, don't stop — just like that, fuck, yes."

Your walls squeezed around him, and you could feel him throb inside you, his eyes shutting tight as he rested his head against your shoulder, refusing to stop or pause, determined to fuck you, to make you cum as curses and moans fell from his lips in heated release. The hand on your neck moved, fingers gripping and tangling in your hair, each breath punctuated with a whimpering moan from him. "Jesus fucking Christ, my girl's pussy feels so fucking good...." Biting your shoulder once more, growling, you were close, he could feel it, right around his cock pounding into you. And he was so close. "Is my baby gonna cum? C'mon, baby, please..."

"Y e s, yes... I'm..." You felt it, then, the rise climbing up and up. The sound of thunder close and almost,you swore, in time of Eddie's hips crashing into you. "Shit... F u c k!" You felt your body shake, hips trembling, as did your lips, seized and form still as he pounded away.

"That's it — that's it, sweetheart, let go, fuck, you're beautiful..." And he couldn't resist, punctuating his hips, letting out a growl. "Say it, say whose making you cum, baby. Shout it. Scream it. Want the whole world knowing who's fucking you so good..."

You cried out, his name leaving your lips, first and last, as you were doing when he asked, louder and louder each time. The light behind your eyes, engulfing you whole, in that sweet, white hot light, drowned you. Your cunt squeezing him the tightest, making him cry out, but moving still, feeling your release drench his cock, the warmth of it driving him over the edge.

"Baby, princess, fuck, so good, you're doing so fucking —" He groaned, fucking you through it. He loved hearing his name come out of your mouth like that, loud, even amongst the thunder. "That's right, that's fucking right, let everyone god damn know I make you cum like that—jesus fuck," though you came, he felt your hips rise up to meet his thrusts. It made him let out a throaty laugh, his eyes looking adoringly at you. "Look at my baby... Wanting my cum so much, powering through... Don't worry, baby..." Putting all his energy in his thrusts, taking you deep and fast. "You're gonna... Mmm, fuck. Oh, you're gonna get every...fucking...drop..."

You were being greedy, because you did want it, your cunt sensitive but not caring. Every thrust giving you an after shock of sensitivity, making your body jolt but you didn't care. "Please, please, please." Your voice strained, but heard so clearly to his ears.

"So fucking polite... Shit..." He could feel it, shuddering lightly. "Oh, baby. Fuck. You're such a good girl..." His breath panting, cursing sweet nothings into your ear, making you moan. "Fuck. Shit. Here... Fuck..." His muscles tensing, cock twitching inside you. He let out a groan, "Take it, sweetheart, take it all...fuck!" pressing himself as deep as he could go, your hands grabbing his hips, keeping him there as you could feel him, thick and hot, spilling into you, over and over. He clung to you, as you did him, both taken with the feeling, him emptying himself inside you, and you, feeling so utterly full. He moves slow, coming down from his high, your walls still gripping him like a vice, milking him of every thread, every drop of him, filling you more and more. He pictures his cum seeping out, dripping from your cunt, and the mental image makes him shudder, lifting his lips to kiss along your jaw, toward your lips and you take it with a tired, yet so satisfied kiss. Soft. Passionate. Content.

His hips come to a still, the thunder subsides and the rain seems to lighten up. You're both drenched to the bone, but neither of you care as you kiss over and over. A smile shared between you both, your body limp beneath his, enjoying the moment, the afterglow of it all. Your eyes open and he stares into them, the smile on both of your lips widening, everything seems light, sharing joint kisses, a giddiness filling you both. It could just be the way you looked then, or just the feel of you a mess around his cock, or any number of things, but the words just slip out as he looks at you. "I fucking love you."

Your eyes go wide, and regret kicks him square in the face.

Ah, shit.

"...Eddie," you start, looking into his eyes. "I—"

"Uh," he cuts you off, eyes looking away from your face. A nervousness settling in him. "Shit, it's getting cold," he said, and reluctantly, he pulls out of you, both of you letting out a groan as the release seeps from you. He couldn't help but frown at that, as well as, well, t h a t. He really fucked up a perfect little moment, in his eyes, and the only thing to do was damage control. "I should take you home, your parents are probably wondering where you are..." Brown eyes looking at the state of your dress as you tried to straighten and cover yourself with it. Reaching for your hand, he held it, rubbing his thumb over the top of it. "Wayne should still be at work, I can take you back to mine and we could get that dress of yours for a wash. Can take a shower if you want. Y'know, so they don't ask how you got it wet and....maybe a little muddy."

"I..." you trailed off, watching as he was already getting to his feet, lifting you up, his hands working to straighten your dress, giving your cheek a kiss. His eyes didn't stay on you long, rushing to reach for his shirt and jacket, drenched as all fuck, wringing the excess water as best as he could. You take a deep breath, smiling softly. "Always taking care of me, aren't you?"

At that, he looked at you, and even in the rain, you could see his smile. "For you, Princess? Always."

You believed him, too.

You didn't talk to Eddie much over the weekend, or see him, really, just some late night phone calls which was mainly him playing one of his tapes and you listening. It was Monday once more, when you entered the halls and saw sight of him at his locker, Jeff and the boys talking to him about something that got his attention.

I fucking love you.

The words playing in your head for the millionth time since he said it, wanting to talk about it, but every time he switched it to another topic. Or a distraction by ways of a kiss. It was annoying, he was clearly embarrassed that he said it, and was trying everything in his power to make you forget it even happened or push it away. Which was ridiculous, considering....

And that's when you saw them, Calvin and his teammates, and it brought back to what Eddie had said happened. Confronting him about his relationship with you, talking about how Eddie would ruin you like you were some delicate flower that needed protection, even from an ex-boyfriend like him. It pissed you off. Because you weren't delicate, you were not made of glass, and the fact that the only boy that grasped that and celebrated that with you was the very boy your ex-boyfriend was trying to threaten... Yeah, you couldn't let that stand.

But you were always such a clever one, that an idea brought forth in your head, and oh, you smiled. Smoothing down your skirt, because of course you wore a skirt, you made your way down the hall, right past your ex-boyfriend, and even some of your former friends, and right toward Eddie. He turned to you, just in time for your hands on his shoulders and lips crashing against his. You didn't catch the way his eyes widened in surprised, but you felt his tongue slide into yours, felt the vibration of his moan and the feel of his hands on your waist. Pressing against him more, you could hear the whistles of the students around you both, some of his friends, some not. They only got louder when his hands went to the swell of your ass, smiling against his lips as you felt his squeeze.

You bit his lip, tugging on it hard until it slipped from your teeth's grasp and he let out a little groan. Your eyes look adoringly at him, genuinely, giving another peck to his lips. "C'mon, baby, walk me to our class? Can't wait to sit next to you and..." You purposefully trailing off, pretending to finally catch sight of your ex. "Oh. C a l, hey... Funny, didn't see you there," you chuckled, thumb swiping over your bottom lip. Turning toward Eddie, holding his hand. "Baby, I need you, let's go."

Eddie looked at you, to Cal, a bright smile on his face as he brought his arms up in a shrug. "She's a wild one," he said as he brushed past them, "I can hardly keep up, but shit, I'm willing to try." Following after you, your hand in his as you both left them in the dust, as soon as you rounded a corner, he sped up and grabbed you at the waist, smiling wide as you let out a squeal, you squealed!, lifting you in a spin and pressed your back against the wall and kissed you deep."You... Jesus," he laughed against your lips, shaking his head. "I wasn't bullshitting, princess, you are a wild one." His brows furrowed, "You know you're a marked woman now, yeah? That was social suicide! You have no hope of escaping that or going back to your friends — It's pretty much over for you, baby." He pulled back, hands on his hips. "Now and forever — marked by the freak of Hawkins."

You let out a laugh, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck, "Yeah, well, no loss there. Like I told you. I like your friends better, and...might as well, since I'm loved by the freak of Hawkins as well?"

His smile faded, a look of shock and apprehension on his handsome face, letting out a breath. "....ah, shit. That..." He closed his eyes, bringing a hand to the bridge of his nose, squeezing it. "Listen, that... You don't..." Bringing his hands out, palms towards you, he rationalized, "It's way too fucking soon to say shit like that, I know. And if that freaked you out—"

"It didn't," you cut him off, which made him raise his brow, unconvinced. "Okay, it kind of did, at first, but, I was still kinda recovering from you fucking me so it was all, kind of a daze." You snorted at the smug look on his face. "Fuck off. I never fucked in the rain before. It was a lot." You crossed your arms in front of you, looking at him. "So, what? Heat of the moment kind of thing? You don't love me?"

He took in a deep breath, chocolate brown eyes looking you over, head to toe and then back again. He could feel his heart, how it quickened in beat, a warmth that radiated when your eyes met. Your taste still lingering on his tongue, the urge to touch you, hold you, kiss you, and yes, fuck you, especially in that skirt you wore. "I don't...not love you. If I'm being totally honest... Yeah. Maybe I do... No other girl's just committed social suicide like that, kissed me in front of an Ex-boyfriend to be like fuck off. Get them jealous, yeah, but, not like that." He looked at you appreciatively. "You're kinda badass. And...for some reason, you...you wanna be a badass with me. How can I not love you for that? Or just... I don't know. I guess.... Yeah, yeah, I love you. But I don't wanna fuck it up, y'know, saying that too fast. So, if you think that's too fast or...you don't feel the same, then, we can forget it. And if I don't manage to fuck this up and chase you away for, maybe...a multitude of reasons, I can say it again...while not being in you at the time."

You couldn't help but smile at him, softly, gently. Your hand reached for his, fingers cascading over his rings and interlock with his, giving him a squeeze. "It's not social suicide for me. It's really not. It's just...letting everyone know where I stand. And it's not with them, it's with you." Your smile widen when he squeezed your hand. "I might love you, too." A laugh breathed past your lips as you saw his widened eyes. "But, maybe it is a little too soon to say it, officially. But...feels like we're on the track for it. My mom says she's never seen me this happy, and that's... That's because of you, Eddie. Because you make me very happy and... I feel like...my truest self with you." Kissing his cheek, you let out a hum, "Thank you for... Even though you said it, giving me the space to not feel pressured to say it right back. At least not now when this is still kinda new between us. Though I'm tempted," you both laughed, loving the glint to his eye. "I'm very fucking tempted."

"I'll take that. I can so fucking take that," he said, leaning forward, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, both of you smiling as you pull away, swinging your joined hands between you, sharing a chuckle. The bell rang, causing him to sigh. "Shit. Well, first period, Sweetheart. Oh, and... I totally forgot my book. So, I guess we'll have to share, get our tables together and..."

You rolled your eyes, moving toward class and dragging him along, "No, keep your hands to yourself until lunch time, Munson."

He pouted, looking over you and letting out a groan. "Come on, Princess, you knew what you were getting into with my wandering hands the moment you got into that skirt...."

You gave him a smile, a wicked look to your eyes.

Oh, yes, you definitely did.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #words did come hither — writings #eddie munson — writings

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lc-holy · 9 months

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Miraculous awakening Live-blog:

Originally I didn't want to watch the film because I know I'm not going to like it, but since I've seen a lot of people talking about it, I thought I'd make up my own mind.

(I watch the film in French)

Fu's voice is a little less cartoonish than in the series. But what intrigues me is who is Fu talking to? Is he breaking the 4th wall by talking to the audience?

He could also have said: "this film is a Jeremy Zag fanfic, it's not canon to the series".

So Marinette in the film is ashamed of her father? I can understand that she's a teenager, and that her father is a bit overprotective.... It's a bit cliché and déjà vu but hey.

Wow, Sabine and Marinette's discussion in the bakery... it was too weird and unnatural.

First song... it's so weird... I don't understand what's happening? We see Marinette taking a bike, going in all directions, but finally coming back to the bakery...

And I have the impression that the lyrics don't match what we see on screen? I have the impression that the song wants to show us that she's weird because she's clumsy like in the show, but at the same time she doesn't say it clearly.... I find the song lyrics too vague and empty... I don't understand what this song is trying to tell me...

Oh, Gabriel! His design is my least favorite at the moment. Mostly because of his tiny shoulders! In the series, his shoulders are broad, which gives him presence.

Oh, it's nice to see how Gabriel's clothes are made. After all, in the show, Gabriel doesn't want to leave his house and does everything by phone. I think it's nice. But the scene didn't even last 1 minute...

Alya saving Marinette was pretty good here.

So Alya likes to film people making fools of themselves? I thought her passion was journalism and superheroes! And Marinette smiling? If I were her, I'd be afraid she'd film me without my knowledge and post it on the Internet.

Well, the dialogue is awkward, but I understood what Alya meant xD

I don't quite understand Marinette's montage, which is supposed to show us her clumsiness... I don't think Marinette is all that clumsy, actually. She's supposed to be the school's disaster girl, but she hasn't done anything really catastrophic.

Wow the miraculous butterfly giving end-of-the-world flashbacks.... I wasn't expecting that.

But why is everyone laughing at Marinette! She hasn't done anything particularly embarrassing...

First interaction between Adrien and Marinette, it's pretty sweet. I can see why she has a crush on him, he's one of the first people to be nice to her (although there was Alya too, but hey). But Adrien disappearing while putting the books away! I burst out laughing. Did he run away or what? He hadn't even finished putting the books away! And the fact that he said afterwards that he found Marinette too weird? Is that why he ran away?! It makes the scene less cute...

Adrien: "I'm used to it, I work alone all the time." I don't understand why he says that? Why does he work alone? In the show I can understand, he's home-schooled, but here I don't understand what they wanted to tell us about Adrien with this sentence...

So in the film Adrien can go out whenever he wants, ok.

Fu is very strange, but it's funny. Fu giving her the ladybug's miraculous is almost the same as in the show, except that in the show fu gives her his miraculous because she saved him but also because he saw her clumsiness and lack of confidence.

I thought it was funny at first, but fu is starting to get creepy, and I feel like I'm watching a parody of miraculous here.

Okay, the akumatization scene could have been interesting, especially with the parallel when Adrien finds the black cat ring and the failed marriage proposal. But the akumatization is so quick??? We don't have time to feel all the frustration of the akumatized character, who cries and suddenly growls a little because he's not happy. We don't see Gabriel feeling the negative emotions. And no pact between Hawkmoth and the akumatized? okay...

And we're talking about the fact that Adrien didn't have to do much to get his miraculous? It just came to him because he's the chosen one. The same goes for Marinette... in the end, the fact that she saved Master Fu's life was for nothing, since the miraculous come magically to the chosen ones.

Wow Calm down tikki... I have a feeling she's going to be radically different from tikki from the series. I feel more like tikki with Plagg's behavior.

Tikki's rap is weird, I don't know if I like it or not xD

Marinette: "First a song, now a yo-yo and then what? A dinette?" Huh? You know you can be humorous and still make sense. Maybe it's just the French translation.

Is the yo-yo alive?

Huh?! Chat noir is here?! But we didn't see Plagg and Adrien meet! We didn't see Adrien transform! We didn't see Adrien's reaction when he discovered the miraculous....

Chat noir: "A young girl doesn't hang out in a place like this at this time of night" How to destroy the charm of Chat noir's character in one line... But it's a different story, so the characters are bound to be a bit different, so we'll let it slide.

It's a shame we didn't get to see Adrien's reaction when he found out he'd been chosen to be a hero, because he seems to be playing the super-mysterious hero by hiding in the cathedral. So far we haven't seen much of Adrien, except that he looks sad to have lost his mother.

Chat noir is a bit strange? As we haven't really been introduced to Adrien, we don't really understand why Adrien suddenly changes personality...

He made a joke without being insufferable! Phew, it's Chat noir all right. And then he calls Ladybug assistant... Chat noir... I believed in you...

Alya says Ladybug is strong, even though she's done absolutely nothing so far.

The lighting effects are really nice.

Oh my, the careless whisper music started when Chat noir took Ladybug's hand! What's that music?

So Ladybug and Chat noir didn't beat the akumatized person, the butterfly simply left the object. Which makes me think that Tikki didn't explain how to purify the akuma! She should have explained this to Marinette instead of telling her to trust herself.

So it's Fu that explains their power ok. But even after falling in love with Ladybug, Chat noir still wants to go it alone?

What's with the characters in this movie disappearing like that?! Is master fu a ghost?

Plagg is so pathetic?! What did you do to him?! Is this his first on-screen interaction with Adrien?! I feel like they introduced him to us as if we already knew him.

He farts and burps, yay.... It's the quintessence of humor. (I'm not against fart jokes, but in movies it's always complicated to make jokes like that).

Stop farting plagg!!!! Aaaaaahhhh!!!

So is Hawkmoth a separate entity? But then, who is Hawkmoth? And is Nooroo kind?

Nooroo: "These powers aren't meant for this" Nooroo says this when Hawkmoth tells him he wants to cause chaos to get Ladybug and Chat noir's miraculous back. So Nooroo's power can also be used for good? like in the show?

Uh... what year is the film set in? Are there any prisoners in the catacombs???? Are people still selling newspapers in the streets? What's going on?

I'm sorry, but the akumatizations in this film make no sense....

Nino tells Adrien to be super mysterious to seduce the person he loves. But this scene should have taken place before Ladybug met Chat noir! Chat noir's behavior would have made more sense!

Why doesn't Adrien want to stay with Marinette? Because he thinks she's weird? (#notmyAdrien)

Well, their discussion is actually quite cute.

The action scenes are nice, but we need to stop using unnecessary slow motion. Why slow down when Nino confesses to Alya?

Ladybug still had a plan to beat the bad guys, even if there was no Ladybug vision. Wait... Isn't there a lucky charm?

But don't akuma go into objects?! They go into people! Oh okay... it wouldn't be very kids friendly to break their leg to get the akuma out of their body anyway...

Meh... the way she purified the akumas was not impressive at all. And she didn't do what she did in the show and get the akumas that formed Hawkmoth's head. It would have been cool to see this scene with this animation. Well...

oh? Chat noir became a little more humble all of a sudden.

Parisians still read newspapers? Don't they have the Internet?

Ladybug and Chat noir advertising cars? The subtlety of this ad xD it made me burst out laughing.

The rooftop scene is very cute, too bad it ends with Chat noir blocking Ladybug against a wall.

Tikki forced Marinette to touch Adrien's hand to bring him closer and now that Marinette wants to ask Adrien to go to the ball, she tells him to stay focused on her mission? She was fearless from the start and now she's cautious? Why is that? Tikki's behavior has changed completely...

Do the earrings flash in case of danger? It's not very discreet, but okay.

So Chat noir pretended to be in danger to get Ladybug to come?

Wait, wait... Chat noir tells his life story here?! And his secret identity? oh... that’s right... From the beginning, they never talked about the importance of keeping their identity a secret... So if it doesn't matter, why don't they already know who they are!

Adrien: "Since my mother died, I've sworn not to get attached to people, so as not to suffer" Ok Gwen Stacy.

Joking aside, we see so little of Adrien interacting with others in this film that this sentence is a little surprising. And he has Nino, doesn't he? Isn't he his friend? In fact, we don't really know what their relationship is, since they've only exchanged two sentences.

In all the songs, French lip-synching is catastrophic....

"Every day you save the world with that mask but the girl wearing it saved my heart" "How could I have imagined for a second that she could love me, behind my mask hides an empty and abandoned heart" Chat noir throwing out corny quotes he found on the internet xD

And stop farting plagg !!!! I promise you I love plagg in the series but here he is uninteresting and insufferable!!!!!!

Ooh... Gabriel are you okay?

Adrien gets angry with his father, but he doesn't care that he's in a terrible state?

Oh! Adrien "tutoie" his father in the film.

And we've never seen Chloé and Adrien interact with each other... Are they childhood friends or not?

And Marinette loses hope again ...

Stop with the careless whisper music, please.....

No, just no ... even if Adrien is heartbroken, he'll still turn into Chat noir to save Paris ... now Adrien is just selfish. He turns into Chat noir just to see Ladybug. This scene really made me angry...

The fact that they say they're "stronger together" is starting to get on my nerves. It's so cheesy.

Chat noir cataclysm is a liquid?

Hawkmoth masters the force?!

Tikki: "Get up, Marinette, don't let your fear paralyze you" No, but you have to stop using phrases like "go and believe in yourself!". Marinette has a head injury and has to be taken to hospital.

So there wasn't even a final fight? Quite simply: Oh no, Chat noir is my son! I'll stop being mean!

Gabriel's story told in a minute. I prefer Felix and Kagami to tell it, sorry Gabriel.

Gabriel: "The only power stronger than death is love" Gabriel, even you don't deserve to say such corny things...what have they done to you, poor guy...

I heard Fu was more competent in this movie than in the series. And really...I don't see how...he served any purpose other than to explain their power. He didn't even choose the heroes.

Ladybug: "the power of love will be there to protect you" ah yes, the film completely assumes its cheesiness.

So there's no Miraculous ladybug: it's the power of love that literally fixes everything.

Didn't we even see Marinette make her dress?

Has Adrien turned into Luka or what? Instead of playing guitar chords, he's playing cheesy poem quotes!

This final scene is long....

This identity reveal sucks... my god... no impact.

I'm not giving a score because I don't like to rate films. But here's my general feeling:

This is fan fiction written by someone who can't write. I tried to detach myself as much as possible from the series, but even though I knew nothing about Miraculous, everything is too vague and unexplained. The relationships between the characters are bizarre and unlovable.

Marinette is an empty shell who tells us nothing except that she doesn't trust herself.

There's nothing charming about Chat Noir, who thinks only of Ladybug and has nothing heroic about him.

The relationship between Gabriel and Adrien is non-existent.

Chloé is useless.

Plagg just farts...

The final battle is non-existent... ! ! !!!

Yes, you don't write a series like you write a movie, but here instead of taking another direction to make a parallel universe to Miraculous the series, they just took away everything that made it fun. They didn't add anything or develop anything differently, they just took things away.

The music in a musical should tell a story, but here it's the same thing all the time... and it doesn't tell much either.

If you like the film's music, I think you might enjoy the film, because it's watchable. It's not horrible, but it's forgettable and cliché.

I'm not going to talk about this movie again, I'm clearly not the target audience. I'll leave it to those who will like the film. I will only continue to watch the series and the special episodes.

#miraculous awakening #miraculous awakening spoilers #miraculous movie #miraculous awakening salt

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luciddreamingcrow · 1 year

Text

Stupid emotionally unavailable men comforting you after they were Assholes

A/n: I was craving some hurt/comfort, so I made some hurt/comfort, also if you are attached too easily to emotionaly unavailable characters but tired of reading fanfics where they are emotionally unavailable, you are at the right place boo 😘 cuz I misscharacterized them 👏just👏 for 👏YOU!!! (I hope you will be feeling better after some hardcore angst) !!!!!!!!!!Also this isn't proof read!!!!!!!!

Characters prsesent: Al Haitham, Scaramouche, Albedo.

Trope(s): Hurt/comfort, angst and in the end fluff, also it's hinted that reader is (emotionally at least)sensitive and tends to ignore their problems.

Warnings!: it isn't too serious but it's implied that reader is somewhat neglected!

--Song recommended for today is: Waterfalls by Glass animals--

Al haitham

(Pre)Scene:

From the start of your relationship with Al haitham it was expected that problems would manifest eventually and there was no way around it, from his lack of physical presence and him being "strictly" logical it made sense that having a s/o that's emotional compared to him, was only natural for a big personality crash to happen, like right now, while you were having a lot of stress due to the academia pressuring you with projects you were forced to do and having to socialize with people that drain you easily, the only thing in your mind was to go home to your lover, talk to your harts content and let all of your worries out. But the opposite thing just had to occur, because whenever you started to rant for a bit he would inturupt you and criticize your actions and give you "advice" on what to do instead of listening to your troubles, and that's the exact thing that made you break down. As he was rambling on, Al haitham turned his look at you and when he noticed the forming tears in your eyes, his rambling would slowly die down, he would slowly put one of his hands to your cheek to gently make you face him. The moment Al haitham saw your teary eyes avoiding his gaze, he felt how sharply his stomach dropped filed with regret. And the second you started to sob he in a instant embraced you trying his best to comfort you. He truly didn't meant to push you over the edge and he couldn't handle the amount of guilt he felt, but regardless of that his top priority was to comfort you

Headcanons on comforting his s/o:

☾☼☽He would keep this position for a bit longer, trying his best to comfort you by keeping you close to him and running one of his hand on your back and the other hording you close.

☾☼☽After you would have calmed down he'd make sure of how you are feeling and bring you all the things you need.

☾☼☽Of course communication is key so he would insist for you to tell him what he specifically did wrong(he most likely would have figured it out but he still wants confirmation from you specifically)

☾☼☽Afterwards you would cuddle and he'd read you books that he knows you love them.

Scaramouche (Harbinger)

(Pre)Scene:

I know EXACTLY what would cause the conflict and that would be of course the amount degradation he seems to spit at everyone that he views as lesser of. And no he doesn't view his s/o as lesser of but that doesn't save them from the teasing "insults" he spits at you without a second thought. The incident that triggered the conflict was when he came back from a tiring mission, all tired and craving some quiet and relaxation only to be disturbed by a fatui agent reporting that the said papers must be signed up as quickly as possible. After Scaramouche dismissed the the fatui agent he dug himself to more work in witch there were many other agents or butlers that filled him with more paperwork. After all night of working and getting disturbed by literally everyone did fuel him up witch ended up with Scaramouche giving of passive aggressive comments left and right just to let off some steam out of his system. And that would be for the most simple things such as: your posture, why haven't you been doing this, this, and that, why are you acting so dumb all the time, etc. Of course he didn't see anything wrong with it and kept on going and that is until he heard how you started sniffing under your nose not daring to let another sound of because you didn't what him to start degrading you again or even worse mocking you and all of these thoughts would bring you to the verge of tears. You would suddenly snap out of your mind when you felt Scaramouches hand guiding you a silent private room with a calming atmosphere. As he turned around to face you, even as he felt like he didn't even deserve to be in your presence and just leave you alone, right now he knew he had to stay with you, unless you didn't want him there. He would look at you as gently as he could and ask you what's the matter? what's wrong? Tell him. After you'd voice your concerns about how he treats you without a good reason, he would start reflecting for a second because he didn't expect you to take his "insignificant insults" actually seriously, and the first thing he would do to make things better is:

Headcanons on comforting his s/o:

⋆✭⋆Scaramouche would firstly let you cry your heart out while he's holding u tightly

⋆✮⋆After you would have calmed down he'd start to run his fingers through your hair or soothe you how you prefer, and with a gentle voice correct his previous degrading comments and telling you what you want to hear and need to hear

⋆✮⋆Of course he'd let you vent for as long as you wanted and would be right there besides you listening carefuly

⋆✮⋆Later Scara would offer you some water and food for you to calm down completely

⋆✮⋆And after this event he'd try his best for something like this to never happened again because he's a firm believer that actions speak louder than words.

Albedo

(Pre) Scene:

Ok let's get something clear, Albedo is a really good lover and is attentive in his romantic relationship but despite him being viewed as a genius he does lack communication on a affectionate level not being quite sure what to do on some social situations that involve showing affection and care for the people that he views as great companions because he believes that the said people already know that he views them positively and doesn't feel the need to express it. And that lead to him accidentally neglect his s/o. This situation took the form of the snowball effect, slowly but surely the more Albedo didn't express his gratitude, appreciation, etc started to pile up on you thinking that he was emotionally distant to you on purpose and thus you started overthinking, did you do something wrong to upset him?, and if so what would that thing be. The more you thought about it the more stressed you became and until the end you confronted him about it since there was no way around it. When Albedo heard your concerns for the first time he was really surprised to say the least, his surprise wouldn't last long because he put two and two together and it made sence why you'd have these thoughts running around your head.

Headcanons on comforting his s/o:

≲•≳At first Albedo would explain to you his thought process and reassure you that you have nothing to worry about and you should have asked him from the start try to be more vocal about praising you.

≲•≳After that he would try his best to be more vocal with you even if it was hard for him in the start.

≲•≳Eventually you would be spoiled rotten by this man and sometimes use it to his advantage to tease you, now that he knows what gets you weak in the knees/hj.

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kittyball23 · 3 months

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Bookworm (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Clay always studied for EVERYTHING

A/N: **Rated M**

__________________________________________

“Oh my goodness…” Clay mumbled, a blush as pink as the hair on Floyd’s magenta head dusting over his cheeks.

It was the fifth time already that he'd uttered a phrase of disbelief… and he wasn't even halfway through the first chapter! He didn't know how he was going to get through the remainder of the nearly 400-page book. The Troll paused for a second, taking a minute to imagine what it would be like for him and Viva to undergo the listed methods. Perhaps it wasn't the best of ideas, as the fantasy he envisioned was very vivid… so real, that he almost felt like relieving himself of the powerful urges that overcame him when thinking of his sweet, golden-haired girl. Luckily, he snapped out of the illusion at the sound of his brother’s voice from the hallway.

“Yo, Clay!”

The lime-green-haired Troll yelped and, in an attempt to discard the book as quickly as possible, he thrust it to the floor and crossed his arms, trying to look inconspicuous.

Bruce turned the corner, smirking at his brother from the doorway. “Whatcha doing, cooped up in here by yourself?”

“Uhhh… maybe cuz this is my room?” Clay pointed out.

Bruce rolled his eyes. This sure was Clay’s room all right, with how pristine and organized it was kept. Which is why the discarded book on the floor stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Oh, I see, catching up on some more of that sad-book reading, huh?” He stepped inside, picked up the book, and flipped through the pages. “Ayight, let's see the damages,” Bruce said, taking a peek.

“Uh, I don't think you should do that,” Clay urged nervously.

But Bruce dismissed him. “Pfft, Clay, you don't have to worry about me crying my eyes out. That's something you should worry about with Floyd,” he chuckled. As Bruce kept looking at the book, though, his eyes widened, while Clay’s closed in dismay. “OHHHHH… now I really see what this is about,” Bruce commented.

Clay could hear the smile in his voice, as well as the sly intonation. When he mustered the courage to open his eye just a peek, he found he was right, with the way Bruce was grinning ear to ear at him.

“So, Clay, you sad that you aren’t doing these things to her, or that she’s not doing these things to you?”

Clay shut his eyes again and covered his face in his hands. “Bruce!”

The purple-haired Troll laughed. “I’m just playing with you, bro… I know that it’s the first reason, since the book is called ‘1001 Ways to Pleasure Your Lady.’”

“BRUCE!”

He laughed again and put an arm around his shoulder. “Seriously, though, bro. I’m happy you’re taking the initiative. A woman likes a man who delivers, after all. But you don’t need to read this! You got me. And I got all the advice.”

Clay shifted his eyes, uncertain how to word his next statement. “Yeeeah… about that, Bruce. No offense or anything, dude, but - you sure your ideas are gonna work the same way?”

The purple-haired Troll cocked his head. “Whaddya mean?” But then, Bruce figured out what exactly his brother meant. His relationship with Brandy - while full of love and intense passion that he wouldn’t trade for the world - was an anomaly when compared with every other Troll he knew so far, simply for the fact that she was at least 10 times taller than him (and an entirely different species, at that!). What worked for him perhaps wouldn’t work for a relationship among two Trolls. “Ah, I see your point there,” Bruce agreed. But then he snapped his fingers as an idea hit him. “Say! You know who else might know?”

“Who?” Clay wondered.

“Branch!”

Ohh, of course! Clay’s conscience cheered. Branch had Poppy, so surely he had some knowledge for how to make things interesting. “Huh, not a bad idea, Bruce,” he said. “Thanks!”

“No problemo,” Bruce said. Then he ushered him to the door. “Now, get to it!”

__________________________________________

Clay was still getting used to how expansive Branch’s bunker was. There were so many rooms and halls and secret passages that it’d be easy enough to get lost. Thankfully, Branch had given them all a tour (admittedly more than a couple of times) so that everybody could familiarize themselves.

And so, navigating to Branch’s room this time around proved to be much easier.

“Yo, Branch!” he called from the hallway, just before turning into the room. He thought he heard Branch gasp, and the sound of something as it fell to the ground, but Clay didn’t pay mind as he began to ask his question. “Bro, I was wonderin’ if you could help me with something…”

“Uhh, sure Clay, what is it?”

Clay hung at the doorway, right away noticing Branch’s failed attempt to be inconspicuous. The blue Troll’s arms were crossed and, despite his grin, he looked discomforted by the sudden, unexpected presence of his brother.

And he figured out why right away, when his foot accidentally bumped into something on the floor. Clay looked down, seeing that it was in fact a book… a very curious one at that, just by the title alone.

Spice Up Your Life: Tips and Tricks for Bedroom Beginners.

It clicked as suddenly as a slap to the face would, and Clay suddenly felt things get very awkward. Very, very awkward.

Branch wanted to groan. Clay knew this because he himself had wanted to groan when Bruce had found his book and realized what was up. But Clay didn’t pursue the matter the way his romance expert of a brother had. He rubbed his shoulder, clicked his tongue a couple of times like he was thinking about what to say, and ended up with “Hey! Um, actually… you uh, hehehe, ever just uh… walk into a room and just completely forget what you’re gonna do or say?”

Branch nodded vigorously. “Oh yes, mm-hmm, total mind blankout. Yep.”

“Right, right… yeah, um, so that’s what just happened to me. Totally embarrassing right?”

“Oh, no worries, Clay. It’s all good. Yep. No problems with me on that. Not at all.”

“Right, right…” Clay was desperate to fill the silence that was starting to take over again, so he began to shuffle back out the doorway. “So, um, I guess I’ll go now?”

Branch hurriedly affirmed in a vomit of words. “Oh, okay. Sure thing. It’s alright. See you around. Talk to you soon. Catch you later. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out. Hasta la vista. Goodbye!”

“Um… ditto!”

The lime-green Troll almost tripped on his feet scurrying away.

Once he was a safe distance away to where he could feel the awkwardness dwindle away, he let out a breath of relief and really paused to ponder.

Huh, Clay thought, somewhat amused, somewhat befuddled. Guess Branch and I are floating on the same boat.

#trolls #cliva #clay trolls #viva trolls #broppy #branch trolls #poppy trolls #spruce trolls #fanfiction #kittyball writes #grown up stuff fanfiction

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hxney-lemcn · 1 year

Text

The Fall — Connor x gn! demi! reader

summery: Connor asks a personal question which leads to reader explaining their sexual orientation. Which ends up in a confession and fluffiness.

tw: anxiety attack, mentions of being invalidated

a/n: Super self indulgent. I may be aroace but I will live in this fantasy as long as I want.

wc: 1.5k

Master List

I felt frustrated. Oh so frustrated. I typically would spend my spare time reading. No, not reading novels or books like I probably should. It was kind of embarrassing to admit, but yes. I read fanfic. It’s not a crime, okay. But recently, I couldn’t pay attention to it, my mind drifting off to someone else instead. Every time too. I would be reading about my favorite characters and then think about him instead. Which led me to stare at my phone when I had free time and come up with scenarios that would potentially befall us. Not only did it waste my phone battery, but it also makes me look dumb just staring at nothing.

I found myself in a similar situation at the moment. The t.v. droned on, some video or show, I wasn’t completely sure. I let out a small huff, tossing my phone gently onto my stomach. I turned my gaze to Connor, who happened to already be staring at me.

Connor invited me out to Hank's house today. Just to hang out. I accepted, deeming that I need to socialize with people more…and maybe because that meant I could hang out with Connor. Hank was off who knows where, telling Sumo to watch over us. Which led us to sit on the couch and watch something. I was curled into one side of the couch, a light blanket keeping me warm.

“May I ask a personal question?” Connor asked, head tilting to the side in that cute puppy-like manner.

“Shoot,” I replied, putting my full attention on him.

“Have you ever been in a romantic relationship?” He asked, curious brown eyes boring into me.

A range of emotions washed over me. Nervousness as to the implications this could mean, but also nervousness to what I was going to have to explain. I’m demiromantic, which meant that I had to get to know a person real well before even thinking about entering a romantic relationship with them. But I never really liked anyone like that for years…until now.

Which meant that I had little to no experience when it came to dating. And I honestly believed that it would stay that way. Which I didn’t mind, don’t get me wrong. I was content on my own with my pets…but I always wanted something more with someone. To be special to someone. Which led me to reading fanfic.

“No,” I replied hesitantly.

Connor’s brows furrowed, a slight frown settled on his lips, “I don’t understand.”

I frowned in confusion as well, “What don’t you get?” His stare moved back to me and it was intense, some feeling I couldn’t put my finger on was swimming through his eyes.

“How someone as amazing as you haven’t found anyone yet,” Connor stated.

I felt my heart rate accelerate and I tried to hide how flustered that statement made me, but I also knew he could scan me and find out without me even realizing. How could he say something like that so unabashed? He thinks I’m amazing? Does that mean he admires me? God, the thought alone made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

“It’s…hard to explain,” I shrugged, looking towards the t.v. only to notice it was shut off. Connor stayed silent, eyes pleading for me to continue. I let out a small sigh, ready to fall into the usual spiel, “I’m demiromantic. I need to get to know someone real well before even thinking about anything more than friends, and the people I start to like never really saw me as anything more than a friend so I’ve never dated or anything.”

“How long does it take for you to gain these romantic interests? If I may ask,” Connor asked, his body moving closer in curiosity.

Once again I just shrugged, trying to not think about how surprisingly quick I found myself falling for the handsome android sitting next to me. It still took longer than what the media portrays, at least a month, but that was quick for me.

“It depends,” I finally answered. “I haven’t been interested in many people, I could probably count the amount on one hand.” I let out a small chuckle at the thought. “Why do you ask?”

My eyes were drawn to Connor’s led as it spun yellow. It even blinked red for a second and I grew concerned. Did…was he going to invalidate me somehow? Tell me I’m just trying to label myself and that what I felt was normal? It’s happened more than I’d like to think, but I trusted Connor, so if he said anything like that I wasn’t sure what I’d do.

“I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable,” Connor finally managed to speak out. I moved to sit more upright, scooting closer to him. I gently placed a hand on his shoulder, and he seemed to relax a bit under me, the artificial muscles moving under my hand.

“I trust you, Connor,” I spoke up. “I know if something comes out wrong you don’t mean it in a bad way.”

“That’s not,” Connor huffed, shaking his head. My eyes fell onto that small piece of hair on his forehead, but I ignored the urge to push it back into place. His led once again blipped red before settling on yellow. “You produce these feelings inside of me, things I haven’t felt around anyone else. Hank has made some comments…and I believe this feeling is love, or strong attraction at the very least, but with this newfound information…”

Connor’s concerned, fearful look along with all the words he just spoke put my brain in overdrive. What? He…no. No…I…do I like him like that? I mean, yes I’m attracted to him, and yes, the idea of being in a relationship with him makes my heart pound faster.

I pulled my hand away from him, scooting away slightly. I clenched my fists against my knees, staring down at the carpet floor like it would give me all the answers. I barely recognized his honeyed voice call my name in concern. I didn’t notice how his led settled on a deep red. I was too wrapped up in my own feelings, suddenly overwhelmed by everything.

Scared, I was scared. Isn’t this what I wanted? Someone to like me? But was I in love with the idea of that? Or did I actually like Connor? I don’t want to start a relationship with the wrong intentions. Connor doesn’t deserve to be hurt. But I really really like him. Yeah, I like him. As a person. I like spending time with him. I like talking with him, I like helping him with his still newfound deviancy.

Oh god, what if he only liked me because I was the first person to be kind to him? No, no it’s not my place to question his feelings. It’s all new to him as well. This is new to both of us…the thought alone made me relax a bit. I took a deep breath, and then another. Would it hurt to just try out a relationship? It’s Connor after all, and if it doesn’t work I don’t think it’d end too terribly…

With one last deep breath, I opened my eyes, feeling a lot calmer than I did a few seconds ago. I felt guilty as Connor fidgeted with his quarter, led bright red, eyes searching for something in mine.

“Sorry,” I apologized nervously. “I…just got a bit overwhelmed.” Connor looked scared, he opened his mouth, but closed it. He seemed afraid he’d say something wrong.

“Like I said, I’ve never been in a romantic relationship,” I explained. “And…I guess I kinda thought I’d never get a chance. So you saying that you…” The word felt heavy as it sat on my tongue. “...are strongly attracted to me…I guess it kinda scared me. I’ve never dealt with this before, and didn’t think I’d have to. Not that it’s bad or anything! Because I like you too, I’m just…scared.”

Connors led spun yellow, processing what I had just said. Finally it settled on a serene blue, his face morphed from fear, to relief, to settling on pure joy.

“I also don’t have experience in this field,” Connor replied. “I was built with a social programme, but it didn’t include anything to do with romantic human relations. I would like to learn with you.”

Heat simmered through me, heart beating faster and I felt inexplicably happy. So happy, I had no idea what to do with this newfound energy bursting through me. I stared at Connor, his cute freckles, deep brown eyes, perfect eyebrows, full lips, to that damned piece of hair still out of place. It was hard to believe someone who looked so perfect would want to be with me.

Trying to calm myself from doing something I’d regret, I lifted my hand up and brushed that piece of hair up and into place. Connor closed his eyes, tilting his head closer to my hand. I couldn’t help but marvel at how soft his hair felt.

Continuing to brush his hair gently, I finally replied, “I wouldn’t want to learn with anyone else.”

Connor opened his eyes, his smile seeming to split at the seams. My heartrate spiked once more as I finally could put a word to the look in his eyes when he looked at me. Love.

#dbh connor x reader #connor dbh x reader #dbh x reader #dbh #detroit become human #rk800 x reader #rk800 #detroit become human x reader #x reader #dbh connor #connor dbh

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anonymouschishiyaimaginesandmore · 1 year

Text

BestFriend!Chishiya

Minors, do not read! Contains mentions of smutty behavior!

MASTERLIST (up-to-date)

This is Part 2 !!HERE!! is Part 1 !!HERE!! is Part 3 !!HERE!! is Part 4!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Alice in Borderland/Imawa no Kuni no Alice characters or original stories, only the plot of this fanfic. Alice in Borderland/Imawa no Kuni no Alice characters and original storyline belong to Haro Aso, who made the Manga the Series is based on.

Trigger Warning: Explicit Smut in later Parts, both Characters are Teens, Slight Toxic Behavior, Complicated Consensual/Not-Consensual Behavior Summery: Chishiya x Female Reader

BestFriend!Chishiya has been watching you closely ever since that one day, posing as the ever so unbothered best friend of yours, who was, in no way, interested in what happened nor what it could mean to you. Things are supposed to feel normal. Boring. As black and white as ever. Just the two of you. As friends. But that wasn’t the case anymore, at least not for you.

BestFriend!Chishiya eyes lay carefully on your figure, while you are pretty much slumped over your homework. You feel his stare. At least you think you do, cause every time you look up, his brown chocolate orbs, framed by peroxide blond strands, are focused on his books instead and it confuses you. A lot. Are you going crazy?

BestFriend!Chishiya knows it does and he also knows that you can feel him starring right into your soul. It amuses him how you react. Thought it only animates him to do it more often and see how far he could drive you up the wall. You, on the other hand feel like you can’t trust your own instincts anymore. Whenever you look up, sure to catch his attention on yourself, only for it to be somewhere else, he does grand you with a tired look of his own, asking less interested “Is there something?” only for you to shake your head and return to your notes and scribbles of halfhearted done work.

In the past, you were always sure when BestFriend!Chishiya was staring at you. You caught him but it was ok because it was nothing than just a game. You were confident to know when he tried to poke you with his mind directely and see if you react, but now, after that fateful day, your instincts seem to play with you, or does he? You believe to know when his eyes roam your body, but as soon as you look up, you are only met by his presence, not his attention. You can’t help but think, maybe, just maybe, it is just in your head.

Perhaps you wish for BestFriend!Chishiyas attention? Maybe, after what he asked of you, so blatant, so easy, but still so consequential, it toys with your head? It can’t be. Shouldn’t be. Wont. BestFriend!Chishiya isn’t this kind of person. You have never seen him interested in anyone, beside his work and some side projects, but persons? Actual Human beings? Not if it didn’t benefit his future career or any other entertainment, so even if he looks at you. Even if your mind isn’t playing games on you and making you see and feel things that aren’t there. Even if. It doesn’t matter because he surely sees you with no different eyes than before.

BestFriend!Chishiya says “Speak up”, ripping you out of your thoughts and this time, when you do look up, his attention is undeniably on you “Huh?” you ask confused, tho you have a feeling what he meant “You haven’t asked me to help you with your homework yet, but I can see from here that most of it is either incorrect or so farfetched, it’s not rhetorical anymore, but a fable”

BestFriend!Chishiya watches you lower your gaze, playing the dumb one, what isn’t that hard, since compared to him, you are practically dumb “I have no idea what you are talking about”

BestFriend!Chishiya grabs your book and notes, turning it towards himself and scans thru it, before a smirk appears on his handsome face. Did you just think handsome? Oh god no… “Who is axelot the great? Any why did he conquer your pants?”

BestFriend!Chishiya admires your confused face as you take your book back from him, reading over your notes and mentally slapping your head at least 5 times. You know that your brain isn’t fully there. More likely over the place, just like your mind. Every sentence you read, needed to be re-read at least 5 times before it sunk halfway in, what made you slower than usual but such errors? That was truly stupid, and you feel your cheeks flush and palms getting sweaty at the realization, just how far away your thoughts had been during homework.

“Didn’t know your pants can be conquered” mocked BestFriend!Chishiya amused and you flash him daggers, words shaky as you open your mouth, wanting to bark at him, but what comes out is barely above a whisper “Shut up”

BestFriend!Chishiya notes with amusement your obvious embarrassment. It can be captured with a camera, that’s how evident it is. So you give up, for the day, scrambling your papers together, wanting nothing more than to leave this uncomfortable situation. The Last days you have done nothing but waiting for something to happen. A sign, that what happened, did happen and wasn’t just a dream or something. That it was real, but BestFriend!Chishiya has gone back to his usual self so fast, you almost got whiplash from it.

It is like all you two did, all BestFriend!Chishiya did, with you, all the touches and words and everything was nothing more than an illusion and it makes you crazy. It makes you question yourself if you have gone insane and dreamed it all up. After all he never lost a word about it, never brought it up, never asked how you felt after his hands had touched every piece of skin, no matter where. And as if he hasn’t made you touch him. Him. It!!!

BestFriend!Chishiya stops your actions, taking your book right out of your arms and opening it at the last page he read one movement ago. It impresses you every time how perfect he does things. How nothing he makes, ever contained any failures. No step ever went into the wrong direction and no word was less correct than the ones before and all that followed.

BestFriend!Chishiya was perfect. His whole actions always had been, but now, it is like the colors he forced you to see, also reflect on him in a way, that makes you see more of him. Truly him. Not just your best friend. More of how perfect his body is. How manly he is. Why did you never see him like that before? Is it because until that day, BestFriend!Chishiya was nothing but a friend and not a guy? And seeing his sex made you realize he was one all along? Is one.

No, that was wrong. BestFriend!Chishiya is no guy, he is a man. There is no way just a guy could be so talented with his hands like BestFriend!Chishiya was. No guy is so gifted like him in certain places, no one and yes you looked the average up on the internet afterwards. BestFriend!Chishiya is certainly not one of them. He is so…big.

BestFriend!Chishiya proceeds to correct your writing as if it was nothing to him and with a totally collected appearance. Like your stupidity is no problem at all. Like all of this is just an everyday happening. And it makes you angry that he treats it that way. Then again, it also makes you angry that you feel the way you do and the emotions that you shouldn’t feel. Then again, can you really blame him for the thoughts you have and the way he faces them?

BestFriend!Chishiya made sure, that day, what his action meant for him, beforehand and you knew that. You agreed to it and now, you have the audacity to be angry he doesn’t feel more? That his mind isn’t as scattered as yours. Unable to focus on simple tasks. How fucked up are you exactly?

You sit down again, giving up on your intentions of leaving. It would only throw off questions like why and to be honest you can’t really answer them correctly without admitting your messy brain, so you give up and look at him instead. Really look at him, up and down, trying to see what really changed about him, because you feel like a lot did, but then again, also nothing. BestFriend!Chishiya is still just him, and way more. Gosh your mind is truly a mess. You can’t even think straight!

“You are starring” No question, no reminder of your unnatural behavior, just an obvious statement and you smile. Sure, a lot has changed, but BestFriend!Chishiya was still the same in many ways, after all.

“I was thinking.”

BestFriend!Chishiya chuckles, his eyes not leaving the book in his hands. Red pencil correcting every mistake of yours like a teacher. But a handsome one “About?”

“Just” you start but interrupt yourself, because the words in your mouth seem like another elusive explanation instead of the truth “I thought…no I questioned myself…did it really happen?”

“Did what really happen?” BestFriend!Chishiya makes a big X over a whole paragraph of your writing and you swallow. This action makes you rethink your words again. Your sentences made sense to you when you wrote them down, but to see how wrong they are now, makes you self-conscious of your ability to judge the situation rightfully. Probably, you are wrong after all. Have you gone insane?

“You know what.”

“I don’t” says BestFriend!Chishiya nonchalantly, another paragraph falling victim to his sharp eyes. You highly doubt his statement, looking at him with a bitch please expression.

“Don’t play dumb. It's not convincing.”

BestFriend!Chishiya stops his actions. He freezes in his position for what felt like minutes. Red pencil in his right hand, head lowered, gaze towards your work. Completely in his element and still. Time froze him up. Or maybe you did? “Do you really not know…what I mean?” you ask, words stuttering again, but this time your tone was at least content. Demanding an answer. Or was no answer the actual one?

BestFriend!Chishiya sighs heavily. Head rising, massaging his nape, he finally turns to you, with the oh so familiar playful smile on his face “I do know what you mean” This isn’t enough. You need him to say it out loud, so it was clear, the two of you are talking about the same thing. You need him to admit it in a full sentence that it really really happened.

“And what is that?” you ask, swallowing nervously. BestFriend!Chishiya doesn’t miss is. The way your breath picks up. How your chest raises with anticipation, expecting his answer, and hoping for the right one “I asked you to undress for me. Then I touched you on places that seems like you haven’t showed anyone else before me. At least your reaction to this whole topic tells me this” if possible, your heart races even more, lungs hitching like a broken-down car. You bite your bottom lip, unbeknown to yourself, but BestFriend!Chishiya sees it and cant refrain from smirking amused “Then you expected me to be turned on by your naked body and I tried to make you understand that it takes more than just some skin and flash to truly…excite me”.

You say nothing. Thoughts racing in your mind, BestFriend!Chishiya sees all the wheels turning, so he adds casually “Ah. That’s right, there was something else, I forgot. You touched me too. Or did I make you touch me? Who knows?”

BestFriend!Chishiya takes your silence as an invitation to lean forward and the fact that you don’t back away, is enough for him to proceed “Wanna see it again?” your eyes widen “Last time you barely got the chance to take in the sighed. Must have been your first time seeing one in real life, hm?”

BestFriend!Chishiya notices how you chew on your poor lip, unsure what to answer. If you should even answer at all, but you can’t help yourself from looking down at his hidden sex. The picture of it was engraved in your mind, never able to forget. Ever. Even if you wanted to. Do you want to? Who knows. However, you did somehow crave for your fingers to feel him again. Want to explore him the way he did with you. But your thoughts are focused only on one of his parts and BestFriend!Chishiya knows it by the way you eye his lower body, trying to undress him with your mind and feel every blue vain around the limb flash, meandering a way to its pink head “All you have to do is ask” BestFriend!Chishiya whispers, watching with delight how your fingers twitch with expectancy “You know. Like I did”

Your eyes rip from his dark pants when you are sure, no when you could swear you saw something move inside. Could it be? BestFriend!Chishiya sees how shocked you are at this realization, questioning if you really saw what you saw and it pleased him. The plea in your eyes, the black of your pupils widening to it extant with want, maybe even lust? He has no time to find out, because something scared you so much, you stumble practically to your feet, shoving everything you can get in one move inside your backpack and swinging it over your shoulder, rushing out of his room and with that out of his apartment, but before you are out the door, you hear BestFriend!Chishiya shout to you “Write me when you are home. I will bring your book with me tomorrow” and this was all that was said, before you were out and on your way home.

At home, no one asks you why you look so over the places. No one realizes how dirty your thoughts are and you don’t want to tell them, until you lay in bed, with your pajama on and damp hair from the quick shower, holding your smartphone clutched to your chest.

BestFriend!Chishiya. You forgot to write him. Or more like you didn’t forget but you pushed it aside, hoping to. The universe isn’t on your side tho, cause while lying around like that, you felt bad that maybe he could be worried about you, and you made him feel like that intentional.

BestFriend!Chishiya looks at his phone when the familiar ping sound of his notification chimes. He sits on his bed with his laptop on his folded legs, scrolling thru news all over the world and his mind taking in all the information’s like a sponge sucking up water. When he sees the message is from you, he smirks mischievous and moves the electronic device from his body, sinking deeper into his pillows.

YOU: Sorry I forgot to text you YOU: Been kind of busy since I got home

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nerdalmighty · 6 months

Note

What are your top picks for your favorite Good Omens fanfics? 👀

-AnnTickwittee

Oh my dear AnnTickwittee, THANK YOU for this ask. There are a bunch of great ones out there but here are some I've loved recently! Also, everyone PLEASE feel free to leave more recs in comments or reblogs or tags! I LOVE a good fic!

Weirdly, most of my faves were written before S2 premiered - PLEASE recommend me some good S2 stuff, and ones you'd consider staples in the GO fandom - I've missed out on a LOT of great content - help me find it/catch up! (Note: All fics listed below are COMPLETE and feature happy endings.)

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Summary: AU, retelling of “Beauty and the Beast”. Quite honestly, sending Aziraphale off into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle isn’t even the worst thing Gabriel’s ever done to him, and at least it means a change of scene. But then neither the snake nor the castle turn out to be quite what he’s expecting…

My Review: Fave fave FAVE at the moment! I discovered this one from this tiktok, fully thinking it was going to be a silly little romp and was instead met with beautiful prose, adorable banter, and moments that literally made me go "AWW" out loud (which I NEVER do). I meant to read a few chapters per night before bed and then accidentally read the whole thing in one go. I stayed up until 4am reading and then woke up 4 hours later STILL thinking about it. Aziraphale is the perfect lead in this one, with Crowley as the wily yet lovable snake that lives in a cursed/enchanted castle with some familiar faces. CLASSIC pining ensues. The author does a great job of world building and character development and I find myself wishing I could read it again with fresh eyes. It's beautiful and adorable and I can't recommend it enough. Favorite quote: "'I love him,' he said. 'Let me in.' And the gates swung open before him."

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Summary: In good weather, one can see the lighthouse at the Rock from the shore: a dot on the horizon, a distant star flashing red and white and red again. It’s been dark for a fortnight, of course—ever since the incident that every newspaper had breathlessly written about, that the paper-boys on the corners had shouted themselves hoarse over. This is where Aziraphale is headed: it is his duty, after all, to find out what happened, to make sure that the beacon can be safely lit once again. He does not expect Crowley to follow him to the windswept isle, to the lonely lighthouse at what could just as well be the edge of the world. Crowley follows him anyway.

My Review: THIS ONE! This one is a good old fashioned mystery! The humans believe this lighthouse is haunted, especially since its last three keepers vanished without a trace, but Aziraphale and Crowley know that can't possibly be the case. As such, they decide to investigate for themselves. It's an adorable slow burn period piece that had me weeping at certain points with twists and turns abound, and I really liked how the author handled the mystery and lore! Deep lore is tough to do convincingly and I found myself believing everything the author said. I can't tell you how thrilled I was when I KIND OF clocked what the author was going for with their mystery. Their explanation for everything was far better than anything my monkey brain could have come up with. Also that S2 ep of OFMD that featured a lighthouse in the beginning came out after I read this fic and I got all giddy thinking about Aziracrow here. I literally don't think I'll ever see a lighthouse again and not think of this gorgeous fic. EDIT: Also, here's a YouTube video that appeared in my recommended shortly after I read this. It's super interesting that disappearances like this have happened in real life 😱

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Summary: Two months after the failed apocalypse Aziraphale finds the first dark feather growing in his wings. A story about middle grounds, ineffable plans, and what happens when the world doesn't end.

My Review: Another fic I found on Tiktok. The edit itself was so gorgeous I decided to give it a go and was not disappointed. It was written before S2 was even announced so it takes some liberties with fanon (Crowley was Raphael in the canon of this world, etc), but it's a lovely, relatively quick read. Crowley and Aziraphale are on their own side, finally, and soon, others join their ranks. All while God watches from afar. The prose is beautiful and I come back to the tiktok all the time (I saved it onto my phone lol). It was also fun to go back and rewatch the tiktok after reading and realize that the editor stitched together parts from each chapter into something new and amazing. It's not a romantic fic, not in the way the others are; it cares more about the aftermath of an apocalypse and shades of gray and how the universe came to be in the first place. I love the POV of God reminiscing on creation and thought it was very well written. Absolutely loved this one! (@anntickwittee, this was the fic I was referring to in the tags of this post, which is probably what prompted you to leave this ask in the first place! 😊)

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Summary: When Crowley drops a bomb on a church, Aziraphale falls in love with him. This should be a secret, but unfortunately, Aziraphale's never been much good at keeping them.

My Review: A one-shot expanding on the 1941 minisode (2019) BEFORE the S2 minisode canonically expanded on it. Recap: Aziraphale's just realized he's in love with Crowley (thank you Michael Sheen for that AMAZING acting choice) and this fic is the author's interpretation of what might have happened after the show cut away from the burning church. I was floored by how many parallels made it from this fic into the actual show both directly and indirectly (Aziraphale says "Not as such" at one point and I'm pretty sure I burst into tears and/or yelped loudly). It's got a good bit of angst to it, the same kind from S2 that makes you scream "WHAT ARE YOU DOING! HE'S RIGHT THERE!" with a happy ending that helped heal my shattered heart. I definitely cried reading this one (affectionate). It's extremely fluffy at the end which EYE LOVE, so if that's your thing, I highly recommend! Favorite Quote: "'I’m afraid I’m quite terribly in love with you,' Aziraphale said unceremoniously. Crowley, who had been in the process of sitting up, promptly fell off the sofa."

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Summary: After Aziraphale goes back to Heaven with the Metatron, Crowley reflects. And 4,400 years ago in 2407 BC, in the city of Uruk in ancient Sumer, he and Aziraphale fall in love with humanity, and each other. - “What are you doing here?” asked Aziraphale. Crowley lifted an eyebrow and felt himself start to smile. “I should ask you the same. What are you thinking, coming here with your wings out and the blessed light of Heaven raining down upon you? You’re scaring the mortals.” Aziraphale blushed. Crowley dutifully looked away. It felt disrespectful not to.

My Review: This one-shot is a love letter to history and humanity. I think I found it on twitter? Unfortunately I don't have a link to the tweet or the author's tumblr. What I really love about this one is that the author adds footnotes like the original Good Omens book does. You can absolutely feel the love and care that went into writing and researching for this particular fic, which I can really appreciate as a fellow writer. (For all my Bildad the Shuhite stans out there, this story takes place after, but the vibes are VERY SIMILAR. If you even care.) Crowley and Aziraphale are in Uruk to keep an eye on the humans as they try to build a structure tall enough to reach God (the Tower of Babel). Theoretically, they can both return to their respective sides, but opt to stay on earth (with each other) for 10 years to watch the construction unfold. Pining ensues, NSFW ensues, and as the author puts it, "now featuring Aziraphale as a little country girl tending her sheep ♥" I highly recommend if you want to be sucked into another time period/biblical story and feel MANY different feelings (with a happy ending!)

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I have more bookmarked that I could absolutely recommend if anyone is interested, but these 5 are just the ones that have stuck out to me the most recently!! Believe me, I could go ON, but this post is long enough for now.

If you DO read any of these, please chat with me about them, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Happy reading!

#i've been WAITING to make something like this #thank you SO MUCH #my blog isn't OFFICIALLY a good omens account but I've wanted to post fic recs for such a long time #please please PLEASE send me fic recs if you have them!#i've got a fever and the only prescription is more good omens fics #anntickwittee #thanks for the ask!#good omens #fic rec #good omens fic rec #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #anonymous #answered #mine #emma blabs #long post #ao3 #archive of our own #great show #love them #:)#you ever wish you were more articulate #you ever wish you could convey to someone else how badly you need them to consume this particular piece of media #and feel the exact same things that you did #and then maybe they could help articulate the wistful longing you're filled with after consuming that particular piece of media #yeah #that

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ryin-silverfish · 16 days

Text

LMK Fanfic: The Wild Son

AO3 Mirror

Nezha-centric one-shot. Or, "how the Third Lotus Prince learns to stop worrying and enjoy the exploration of death."

CW for suicide and extensive discussions of it. Similar to my previous story, this is very FSYY-inspired, which is shorthand for "pretty fucked-up".

Y'know, with the novel's version of Nezha's suicide being the most graphic and all.

...

The Devaraja of the North has a wild son, who bows not to his father, only the Buddha. The Buddha knows of his stubborn unreason, and sets upon his father's left hand, a pagoda.

——Su Zhe, "Nezha"

Over the years, he had really come to loathe That Look.

You know, when these brats (technically, all mortals are kids to him) learned of his suicide and just gaped at him in wide-eyed horror. Usually followed by an "I'm so sorry" or "It's not your fault" or the slightly less grating "Man, your father sucks."

Duh, Dragonhorse Girl. Duh. But anyone who talked shit about Li Jing was in his good books, and he could at least appreciate Mei's straightforward nature.

Still, whatever prior impressions he left, he knew he was now seven years old and hurting again in their eyes, and would never stop being so.

And it drove him nuts, because 1) it didn't even hurt all that much, and 2) why is offing yourself suddenly such a big deal? Apart from some ol' Confucian bores' rants about unfilial conduct, no participants in the War of Investiture had ever batted an eye at his death and resurrection; the problem was with what he did immediately afterward.

That said, death in the War of Investiture wasn't final, logical, or that big a deal either, until it suddenly was.

...

Unlike killing, death didn't get less confusing even after you've kicked the bucket once. Nor was spending your time as a spooky ghost and getting your godhood rudely interrupted helpful, when it came to understanding the boundary between gods and ghosts, and how some people could come back but not the others.

Well, according to The Patricidal 7-years-old's Guide to Death and Deification:

People die when they get killed.

At which point they turn into a ghost, and float around going "Woe is meeeeee!" for a while before moving on to their next lives.

Unless they don't want to move on. In that case, they just haunt the living out of spite, and to get free stuff.

But wait! If enough people treat the ghost like a god and give them offerings, they'll become one and...dunno, make a new body outta faith or something.

If someone's name is on The List, it's totally okay to kill them because they'll become gods after death.

Wait, isn't that dragon prince's name on The List too? Then why is his dad so angry when he killed him?

And sometimes, a Daoist master just pops a pill into the recently dead guy's mouth and they are alive again.

It took him a surprisingly long time to realize that The List was not all it's cracked up to be, and was basically the Poor Man's Godhood. Or that knowing someone would come back in the end didn't make their absence hurt any less. Or that they could come back, but would remain forever out of reach, shackled by the duties of godhood and the chains of causes and consequences.

And even when a quick resurrection was possible, every death scarred the soul, making it fray and tear at the seams. Seven was the maximum. After dying and coming back seven times like poor Senior Uncle Jiang Ziya, not even The List could take your soul without it exploding into a billion little ghostfires that had more in common with ambience Qi than any living spirits.

He wondered if his inability to understand this fuss around offing yourself had something to do with a scar, too.

But which one? Was it the first and most gruesome one, where returning your flesh and blood also meant ripping out the itty bitty pieces of souls that were embedded in them, clinging to your father and mother like muscle membranes on a bone? Was it the one that looked like an ugly crack on a gilded statue, widening, spreading, until it shattered altogether? Was it not a single scar, but a bunch of little holes in his essence, like wormbites on a leaf, or a pool of oozing sludge left by the Blood-melting Knife?

Assuming he still had a soul in the first place, of course. Maybe instead of a soul, there's only one huge patch of scar tissue where his three souls and seven spirits used to be, red and fibrous and angry.

Yeah, try pulling *that* out of his body with a spell, suckers.

...

A popular god gains new domains like new year gifts. Namely, you seldom receive the ones you want, are stuck with the ones you were tired of, and have no idea where that pile over there even came from.

Sun Wukong shared a domain with him as the protector of youth, a fact he was strangely okay with. He took the silly and mischievous ones, while Nezha dealt with the moody, rebellious ones. An amicable arrangement, as far as dispute between overlapping domains went; were they ever to switch places, the result would be a disaster.

This, however, was when a joint operation would be really helpful.

Alas, he had no such luck. So here he was, sitting in the Megapolis Children's Hospital's inpatient ward, next to a girl with owl-like eyes and tubes inside her nose, who asked him "Being dead, what does that even mean?"

...

Nothing, 'cause it's something that happens to other people. That was how he would have answered this question, back when he was still a real kid, and not an 18-foot-tall immortal plant construct who could choose to look like a kid.

He did wish people would recognize him as something other than "god of youth", though. Or realize his older forms existed too. Somehow, when Jinzha's master appeared as a little boy with five hair buns, people didn't stop worshipping Old Dude Wenshu or Graceful Bodhisattva Wenshu, but one too many adaptations later, Nezha was just THE Kid God, and not also the Three-headed Six-armed War God of Setting Things On Fire.

Bah.

But this was about Nezha the human (was he ever human, though, with the whole Spirit Pearl thing?) and Nezha the kid, not Nezha, Marshal of the Central Altar. Who didn't quite realize death was real, as in, a thing you should try to avoid for both yourself and others, and had been told that it was his destiny to dish out death to people in some epic upcoming war.

Master Taiyi, bless the old immortal, was a perfect case of someone who clearly cared so much, yet still managed to fuck up so badly.

For all his grudges against Jinzha's master (less about the whipping, and more about his damn cat killing the Jade Emperor), Wenshu made some good points: You did not tell a kid that you would protect him from all the consequences of his actions, then set him loose and expect him to not wreak havoc on unintended targets.

...

"What do you mean?"

He'd admit, this was not his finest hour. You weren't supposed to answer a question with a question, at least not in a way that didn't make you seem all mysterious and wise.

"I..." She trailed off. "I mean, I feel dead people all the time. Brushing past me, being all chilly and stuff. Since I'm gonna be joining you guys soon, I just wanna know...how it's like." The corner of her mouth twitched; either a grimace, or an attempt at smiling. "And you feel nicer than the others. Warmer, too."

He was no god of medicine, no matter how much he wished he could be one right now. Yet he could see the flames of her three souls, dimming with every passing second, as well as the blocks in her Qi flow, with one right behind her eyelids. Her sight was already gone, and in a week, these flames would go out entirely.

Sickness, he could heal, but not a passing ordained by the Book of Life and Death. As tempting as it was to pull a Sun Wukong, if he was to remove the name of one person, what was stopping him from removing another? And another? Before he knew, he'd be striking the name of every good person off it, and only chaos could result from that.

His gaze shifted to a small charm, fastened onto the bedframes with red strings. Made of peachwood, glowing gently in his vision, accompanied by the wisps of a prayer. Please watch over her, and take away her pain. Please don't let her face this alone.

Slowly, he extended a hand towards her, a tiny spark of pink flame dancing on his fingertip. If there were still ghosts in this room that hadn't fled when he first came in, they were definitely gone by now, as the darkness dispered in a surge of Yang-aligned Qi.

"...Wow." She visibly relaxed, with a sigh. "Thanks."

"No problem."

"Are you...also a kid, when you...you know? You sound like one."

"Yeah. But I've been dead for a long time. Long before this hospital was built." He let out a dry laugh. "I guess you could say I'm a professional at this whole 'death' thing."

"Huh. I thought after a while, people just...move on."

"They do, if they aren't trying to avoid the ghost cops. The Heibai Wuchang," he said. "Nowadays, they dress like cops too, but they show up for everyone, to take them to the Underworld. Not just bad ghosts that need to be arrested."

"What's the Underworld like?"

"Dunno. Never been down there." This was partially true. At the time of his death, the Underworld bureaucracy did not exist yet. Most of his knowledge of its workings came from chatting with Huang Tianhua, whose father was deified as the King of Mt.Tai, former head of the Ten Kings. "But you seem like a good egg, so they would send you straight to the Naihe Bridge, and onto your next life."

"That's...good to hear," she said. "I wanna know more about the, uh, ghost part, though. Does it stop hurting when you die? I've been...hurting for so long, I'm starting to forget what it's like, before...this."

"Yeah, the pain stops," he answered, "but so does everything else. You just stop feeling things altogether. Smell, touch, warm and cold and all that jazz." He paused. "Being a ghost is very, very boring."

"And you still don't wanna go with the ghost cops?"

"Well, I killed myself, and that gets you stuck in the City of Wrongful Death." He blurted out, before realizing that this was the worse moment to be honest, and braced himself for the awkwardness to come.

"Sounds like an awful place."

"Pretty much. They said it was just full of depressed ghosts, being depressing together," he chuckled. "Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. I think I'll pass."

"Glad I didn't...go through with it, then." She said, then quietly added, "I nearly did, when the pain got too much, and the cost just kept rising."

Well, that wasn't quite what he expected. But he wasn't too surprised, either.

...

They thought his suicide was an act of despair. It was insulting, honestly. Both to the strength of his will and spite, and his unconventional problem solving skills.

See, when people said that your body and skin and hair were given to you by your parents, the implicit message was So you can't do anything to them, and They own you, every bit of you, and above all, Obey.

You weren't supposed to give them back, not so flippantly. Yet it was the simplest, most obvious solution, in the same way beating up the dragon king who tried to sue you was. (Guess he really was Taiyi's student.)

At the heat of the moment, it was quite thrilling. Almost liberating. Like a snake shedding its skin, a baby bird breaking out of its eggshells. As the raging storm and roaring tides drowned out Fate and Destiny's ever-tolling bells, for a second, he really felt like this was the end.

No more Spirit Pearl, no more unruly child, woe of his mother, doom of his lineage. No more Li Jing, no more questionable advices from Taiyi, no stupid dragon kings, and none of that Vanguard of the Zhou Army crap. Just a kid sacrificing himself, laughing and laughing until he chocked on his own blood.

Just Nezha.

But obviously, things didn't end here. Death rarely was the true end, nor did it tie things up neatly, like cutting through a knot with a sword. It was more akin to what you got when you broke a lotus root in half, full of sticky, near-invisible threads, stretching on and on between the scattered pieces.

...

Believe it or not, this wasn't the first time he had to deal with suicide, kids, or suicidal kids. Especially after gaining one of his more recent domains. He is the protector of all young people, regardless of who they fancy or whether their bodies match their souls, it was just that those who didn't fit the common denominator tended to get a lot of shit for existing.

(As annoying as the "Third Princess" nickname was, he had no problem with people finding strength and comfort in his legends, in severing ties, defying norms, and blossoming inside a changed body. After all, that was what gods were; a mirror that reflected the worshippers' beliefs and needs back at them.)

A few decades ago, he was summoned by a teen, standing on the bank of a river, holding a stick of incense. Dunno where, just that it was a Hokkien-speaking area and one of his temples was nearby.

They gave him a hopeful look when he showed up, emerging out of the water like an actual lotus plant, yet remaining miraculously dry. As hopeful as someone in their circumstance could manage, at least.

"Is it okay if I ask you to curse my parents?"

"If that's what you want, you are praying to the wrong god," he replied. "And the kind of gods who accept such requests will make you pay a price you are never ready for."

"Damn. Guess I'll just have to come back and haunt them myself, then."

They knelt down to stick the incense into the mud, then started wading their way into the shallows. He sighed, and they were promptly dragged back by his red sash, struggling furiously.

"Let go of me!" They screamed, muddy water splashing beneath their sneakers. "W-Why? I don't get it! Why are YOU stopping me? You, of all gods! The child who hacked himself to pieces, and tried to kill his asshole dad——"

"And got a burning pagoda dropped on him for his troubles." He said flatly. "Need I remind you that it all took place a thousand years ago, and I'm no longer out for his blood?"

"Oh, so they'd beaten it out of you! Good for you, I guess." They snapped. "But not me. Why would you even care if a freak like me died or not?"

"gin-na, you just admit you are gonna become a vengeful spirit. And I literally have 'subduing demons and harmful spirits' in my job description. So maybe, maybe, I'm gonna have a problem with that?"

"Even if they totally have it coming?" They retorted. The first two buttons of their collars had come loose in the struggle, exposing the ugly patch of bruised purple around their neck, as well as implications of worse things. "I thought gods were all for karmic justice."

"Especially if they have it coming," he said. "Which is why I'm stopping you. It's not gonna work."

"What does that even mean?"

"Ugh. Look. Suppose I let you drown, without alerting any ghostly officials. Suppose that you come back, haunt your parents night and day, and don't get yourself exorcised. Suppose that you inflict on them the same torment you were subjected to, and drive them to madness or some other gruesome ends." He said. "Then what? What are you gonna do afterwards?"

"I'll just...move on, I guess."

"To do that, you 'll have to cross the Naihe Bridge. And the Underworld officials won't let you off the hook that easily, not after you've accumulated all this negative karma by haunting the living." He shook his head. "I heard they take 'Hell is other people' quite literally, and punish people who hated each other by throwing both parties into the same Minor Hell, giving them a pile of lethal weapons, and resurrecting whichever side that gets killed. Over and over again."

He leaned closer. "Is that what you really want? Getting stuck in the same pit with your parents for centuries to come? Mind you, even if you get tired of the violence, you are not allowed to quit until the Underworld officials let you."

Came to think of it, that was the War of the Investiture in a nutshell. No one was allowed to quit, not even in death.

"...No," they mumbled, after a long silence. "But it's still tempting. At least I'll get to do something to them."

"Well, here's a thing you can do to them."

"What?"

"Live."

"That's it? Seriously?" They stared at him in disbelief. "Because I own it to them? Because my very existence is a mistake or something?"

"No. Because you own it to yourself," he said, "and it is only a mistake if you believe so, and if they think you are a mistake, there's no better way to prove them wrong and rub it in their faces than keep existing. Think of it like this——you ain't gonna help them get rid of you, are you?"

"Well, if you put it that way..." they paused. "But I'll still be depriving them of their favorite punching bag, at least."

"Is that what you think you are?"

"It's what I have been for the past few years."

"Yeah, sorry, but hell no. You can be way, way more than that." He grinned. "Why be a punching bag, when you can be their worst nightmare instead?"

"I thought you don't want me to haunt my parents?"

"Oh, no. You are gonna drive them nuts in a whole different manner: by growing into a successful, well-adjusted adult they no longer have any power over," his grin widened, "And watch them age into bitter, miserable old farts who'll die alone and forgotten, knowing that the moment they die, they'll be dragged straight into one of the Hells in chains, suffer for untold eons, and probably spend their next life as ants."

"That is...satisfying, not gonna lie." They bit into their lips. "But until then, I'll still be stuck with them. Thanks for the reassurance, though."

"Does that mean if I let go of you now, you aren't gonna dash into the river?"

Upon receiving a nod, he whistled, and his sash loosened around the teen, floating back onto his shoulders. They staggered back; he prepared himself, watching out for tensed muscles and all the little tells of someone who was going to make a run for it. Thankfully, he spotted none, as they retreaded their steps back onto dry land, one muddy footprint at a time.

He wasn't entirely convinced that they wouldn't change their mind later, but it was a good start. And he had just the idea to make it an even better start.

His fingers started twisting in a mudra, weaving together threads of pink and golden light into the shape of his signature seal. No, he definitely didn't enjoy the kid's quiet gasp of wonder, as a lotus-patterned token fell out of thin air and right into his hands. It wasn't like he was a show-off or anything, unlike that ape.

"Here. Take this. Go to—" He paused and cursed himself. Dammit, he kept forgetting that mortals couldn't just sense temples and their giant beacons of faith. "Do you know there's a temple over there?" He pointed east, "Like, in that direction?"

"You mean Taizi Gong? Yeah." They nodded. "Grandma used to take me there."

"If you ever need a meal, or a place to stay the night, just show this token to the staff, and they'll help you out." He narrowed his eyes, and said the next sentence very slowly. "Also, if your life is ever in serious danger, like, no-time-to-call-the-cops danger, just hold it tight, say my name, and point it at whatever is threatening you. Do. Not. Use. It. Lightly. Understood?"

He intentionally let out a bit of his killer aura, as he uttered the last few words. Not hard to muster, considering the circumstances that first drove him to develop this token system. It was always awful when he was too late in his interventions, but he swore to the Three Pure Ones, if anyone ever triggered the spell with a prank call, when he arrived at the scene, they'd wish they got caught in the explosions instead.

They paled and nodded in quick succession, then started to turn away. Before remembering something, and coming to a halt mid-step.

"I...I don't even know how to thank you." They shook their head. "If it was too early for that. If 'Thanks' is even enough. But if you are right and I do find my way out of this mess, I'm building you a temple, Third Prince."

...

A temple. Build me a temple, mother. Build me a temple, mother, for I'm cold without a body, hungry without a stomach. He remembered himself crying out, once. Build me a temple so I can be back at your side again, isn't that what you want? What you said you would give up everything for, as you picked up my pieces and buried them in a shallow grave?

Build me a temple, or you'll never know peace again.

The most frustrating part wasn't how much he sounded like the sorts of ghosts he'd beat up later, a lot, as Marshal of the Central Altar. It was the lack of context. As in, there was no memory of the before and after. Just words echoing in a vaccum, with neither pain nor sensations attached.

It was the same whenever he helped a mortal. It was the feeling he got when, twenty years later, he stood in front of a temple gate, watching the person in a suit cut the red ribbons during its opening ceremony, and thought, I've done something like this before, long ago, inside my first temple.

But I can't remember what it was, or for whom.

He knew that was how ghosts became gods. Three souls attracted by the fragrance of incense, seven spirits nourished by the ashes of burnt offerings. Ten shades of a person, molded back together into something more than the sum of its parts, by countless mud-stained, callused hands, clasped together in prayer.

He'd watched it happen before, on the coasts of Fujian. Little Lin Mo Niang, disappearing beneath the waves, only to rise out of the tides later as Mazu, guiding fisherfolks and sailors to shore with her gentle red light, just like she did in life.

Or maybe he had more in common with Guan Yu. The fugitive, the warrior with the might of a thousand man, the loyal companion. Who, despite his promise in the peach garden, did not die on the same day as his sworn brothers. Specifically, how his vengeance and fury used to hang over Jingzhou like a plague, how his name was once whispered in fear, before it became the synonym of loyalty, brotherhood and martial virtue.

Perhaps ghosts became gods when mortals poured pieces of themselves into them, filling up the holes in their psyche. Making them more human than they ever were, and could be.

Thanks to Li Jing's destruction of his idol, he'd never know.

That——that was what sent him onto his roaring rampage of revenge, right after reviving in his lotus body. After everything else had been bled dry, rage was all he had. Like thick black tar, sticking to the bottom of a broken jar.

...

"What stopped you?" He asked, without really knowing why.

"My legs. Literally. They don't work anymore. And I'm...gonna die anyways, it's not really worth the effort..." Her breath hitched in her throat, yet she still managed to squeeze out the last few words, "Then my mom came back."

"I...I'm still a little mad that she left in the first place, like, long before this. But she had a nice singing voice, when she wasn't crying, and," she sighed, "didn't start arguing with dad again. She said I had a new little brother, and showed me the photos...and I was just like, hey, he looks like a raisin, and they laughed, and I haven't heard either of them laugh in a long, long time..."

She was starting to look dazed, stuck in that liminal space between dream and awakeness.

"And I, I wouldn't mind hurting a lil' longer, if it means I get to have more moments like that."

What if you don't? A part of him wanted to ask. What if those moments are no more than baits on a straight hook, carrots on a stick, making it so that you are willing to hurt longer and longer until it's not even fleeting happiness you seek, just the mere promise of release?

But that was the bitterest, crueler part, and it could fuck right off.

"I'm sure they are glad to have you, too." In the end, that was all he managed to say, in a whisper she might or might not have heard, and only got a small yawn in return.

"Well, you sound like you're about to doze off. So I won't keep you up any longer," he said. "Any last questions, before I go?"

"What do you...look like?"

"Huh?"

"When I die, I'll get to...see things again, right?" She asked. "And you can't be the only kid here. Just...wanna...go over and say hello, before the ghost cops come."

"Oh, I'm very recognizable. You don't see a lot of folks with twin hair buns nowadays." He laughed softly. "And I promise you, when the time comes, I'll be right here, inside this very room."

"Thanks," she nodded. "G-G'night, ghost friend."

"Farewell, and sleep tight."

...

When did you stop being fun? Sun Wukong asked him, once.

When you started being nothing but jokes, he wanted to scream back. When you shut yourself in your cave for five hundred years to take a depression nap, while I drain just as much power answering the prayers of mortals as I get from their worship, and my true body is stuck guarding the fire that burn away worlds. When Yang Jian had stopped giving a crap about everything that happened outside of his precious Sichuan, me included.

When I grow the fuck up, monkey. We all do, sooner or later, yet you never seem to.

But then he remembered the look on Sun Wukong's face, as the mountain came down. A look he had seen on the faces of so many souls, as they were called up the Terrace of the Investiture.

It was Ao Guang clutching onto his son's tendons with trembling, scaly hands. It was his mother kneeling in the dirt, begging for his life and unlife. It was him handing Huang Tianhua's head back to Huang Feihu. The eldest of Zhao Gongming's three sisters, muttering a quiet "Sorry, brother" before she was swept away by Lao Tzu's scroll. Guang Chengzi looking Yin Jiao in the eyes, as they dragged his plow up the hill.

It was a monk postponing his Buddhahood in favor of the path of the Bodhisattva, swearing a vow that, for every life, he should learn the meaning of compassion anew, and teach it to others.

A pig who was once a marshal, too weighed down by his desires to attain enlightenment, who nonetheless went on to live a good life, full of good food and few regrets.

A soldier made into a monster after one simple mistake, who decided he was better than that, and, with quiet determination, followed his brother and master into samsara as their guardian.

It was a white dragon, destined to set things aflame and be consumed by flames, yet burning brightly all the same, a goofy grin on his face.

So he just gritted his teeth and kept on fighting. It was what he was made for, what he always did.

And it wasn't enough.

...

But when was anything ever enough? When did Fate or Destiny ever pat anyone on the head, and tell them they did a good job, and they'd be free of suffering, just like that?

When were there ever easy answers, for mortals and gods alike?

Azure Lion thought there would be one, that the right person on the throne could magically make it all better, and he shattered trying to make himself into that person.

One step at a time. One answer at a time. A promise kept, a visit made. That was how you do it.

After all, the great lump of molten colors Nüwa used to seal the cracks in the sky——they were but little pebbles too, once upon a time.

...

"Told you I'll be here." That was the first thing he said, as he unsummoned his wheels and sat down in midair, cross-legged.

"Oh. Well. I," The translucent girl let out a small laugh. She tried to scratch her head, before realizing she couldn't anymore. "I certainly wasn't imagining this, when you said 'twin hair buns'."

"Do you have reasons to, though?" He asked. "People usually don't see the Third Lotus Prince on their deathbeds."

"No. But it's pretty obvious in hindsight, with the warmth and all these little hints." She shook her head. "Dangit. Now I just feel kinda dumb. Still, it's good to see you again, sir...Third Prince?"

"Nezha would do. I suppose I make much better company than the ghost cops, right?"

Behind the hospital screen, the man wearing a tall black hat grumbled something about people not appreciating their jobs, before being cut off by a "Ha! Checkmate, Lao Fan!"

"Yeah. It's a little distracting when you were dying, and two guys were just having a chess game five feet away," she said. "The cheerful one is a better player, though."

"Only because you keep giving him tips!" The man snarked back. "How does it feel like to cheat via a dying kid, Xiao Xie? I bet you feel real proud of yourself right now."

"How does it feel like to lose to a dying kid?" His colleague laughed, sticking his tongue out way further than any living humans were capable of, or comfortable with. "She gave you tips too, you just aren't good enough to use them well. And she's good. Real good. This one thinks she may just be a chess champion in her next life!"

"Thank you, Mister Xie. I learned it from my grandpa."

It was such a blessing that these two didn't exist yet, at the time of his death. As grim and thankless as their duties were, Xie Bi'an and Fan Wujiu were also the most annoying pair of ghosts he ever met, the former taking nothing seriously and the latter taking everything way too seriously.

"Hey. You two, shut up and show some respect." He snapped, before turning to the girl. "I'm sorry you have to endure their presence."

"That's right, Xiao Xie! Even the Third Lotus Prince tires of you and your constant jesting!"

"This one thinks if we pay our proper respect to everyone that has ever died, we'll have no time to actually do our job." Xie chuckled. "Besides, he is clearly talking about the one who is constantly yelling, and incapable of losing gracefully. But alright, this one shall do as you command."

"...Let's go talk somewhere else." He sighed. "These two clowns are giving me a headache."

She giggled a little, as the screen parted with a wave of his hand, revealing the two psychopomps sitting on the nearby bed. "Their hats do look like clown hats."

"The clowns can hear you, you know?" Fan snarked, before picking up his baton and making a gesture in their direction. "Whatever. Begone. And remember our deal: you have four hours. Not a second more, not a second less. Understood?"

"Did you just admit to being a clown too?" Xie grinned. "This one does think a red nose will suit you well."

"Sometimes I seriously wonder why I ever agreed to become your sworn brother, Xiao Xie."

He led the girl out of the room, just as medical personnels started coming in, carefully concealing his presence from the mortals' eyes. The girl made a face when her hand passed through the doorframe, but quickly recovered.

"Where are we going?"

"Anywhere you like." He replied. "Your home, your old school, that really cool arcade or amusement park you never get a chance to visit...and you don't have to choose one. Distance is not a factor at all," with a blaze of pink fire, his wheels were back under his boots again, "when I'm the god of speedy drivers. So take your time."

"Hmmm. I think," she said, after a long silence, "I wanna go see my mom, and my little brother first. Is that okay?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Let's be on our way, then."

"Alright. Leeeego!"

#lego monkie kid #lmk fanfiction #nezha #lmk nezha #journey to the west #investiture of the gods

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preceriisblog · 3 months

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THE ATLAS COMPLEX SPOILERS ‼️‼️

Seriously don’t read if you don’t want spoilers.

Okay so I think I’ve scrolled through all of tumblr. All thru Goodreads. Read all the terrible reviews and rants and still nothing has quelled my anger. I feel so rageful. Nothing has ever pissed me off more than this ending

How could Olivie Blake set up something as amazing as academic rivals to lovers, binary stars, meant to be soulmates in every universe AND FUCK IT UP? ARE YOU SERIOUS? HOW COULD YOU TEASE ME WITH THAT AND NOT. GIVE IT TO ME.

And the same with Novacaine??! At the very very very very least you could have at least had Tristan be the one who kills Callum.

and of course. OF COURSE. MY TWO FAVORITE CHARACTERS IN THE ENTIRE SERIES ARE THE ONE WHO DIE. are you kidding me? H O W DOES THIS CONSTANTLY HAPPEN TO ME?? AM I CURSED?

ALSO HOW ARE THERE NO FIX-IT FANFICS YET?? i’ve only seen like one new nicolibby fanfic on ao3 and like two new novacaine ones but that’s not enough to fulfill me??! what happened? did y’all rage quit (cannot blame a single soul??)

so yeah. I feel incredibly betrayed and I need to scream and cry and dig a hole and give Nico and Callum fucking Nova a hug in the afterlife because GODDAMNIT NO ONE DESERVED THEM

One last note: I have always been a Nicolibby shipper, but I would have been happy with a throuple or if Nicolibby had at least kissed once. But you couldn’t even give me that Olivie Blake??

I am shattered. I will never trust again. Use this post to rant about anything you hated about the book in the comments please. I am 100% a hater right now and I have no shame because that ending was downright malicious and fucked.

#the atlas complex #the atlas complex spoilers #spoilers #nicolibby #novacaine

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literary-illuminati · 8 months

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Book Review 48 – Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree

I will be honest, I read this book because it was nominated for a Hugo award and I have a mildly masochistic personal commitment to read every nominee I can (and so remain at least slightly aware of the genre at large). Otherwise, I’m quite certain I never would have touched it – everything about the pitch and marketing made it seem like something I would hate. I’ll try to be fair and approach the book on its own terms but, well it wasn’t exactly painful I wouldn’t say my initial impression was wrong either.

The book follows Viv, an orcish adventurer in a generic D&D fantasy sort of world, as she decides to retire from the dungeon-delving/monster-slaying game with her last big score – a magical stone that, when buried, is supposed to bring ‘the ring of fortune’ to whatever you do above it. She opens the city’s first and only coffee shop. The book follows her collecting a cast of lovable misfit friends/employees (Calamity the hobgoblin carpenter, Tandri the succubus barista/eventual love interest, Thimble the ratfolk baking savant, a bard whose name I’m blanking on, Amity the dire shop cat/security) as they run the business and develop it into what by complete coincidence will end up looking very familiar to the a cute quirky modern indie coffeeshop. There is theoretically some conflict happening, first with the local mob boss and then with one of Viv’s old adventuring companions, but they both feel pretty perfunctory and like they’re only included out of a sense of obligation.

The actual meat of the book is basically focused on Viv instantly becoming fast friends with all her employees/coworkers and how endearing they are, and also the step-by-step of the coffeeshop's development. First in renovating the property into her vision, then in the branding and marketing, and then the gradual addition of menu items and live music. Through it all Viv and Tandri have a developing romance that (rather appropriately) feels like a coffeeshop AU fanfic where the author decided the slowburn tag meant ‘every other character will just assume they’re already dating by the halfway point but they’ll act like flustered teenagers and refuse to actually discuss their feelings until they kiss on the literal last page’.

So, the book is ‘cozy fantasy’ which as far as I’m aware does basically means ‘no tension slice of life fanfic but with original characters’ (alternatively, ‘2000s ‘cute girls doing cute things’ anime but with a moderately more diverse cast and in sf/f book form’). The only other books in the genre I’ve read are Becky Chambers’ stuff which, while I didn’t particularly love them, I now feel I was being way too harsh on. Those have legitimately impressive worldbuilding and coherent themes and at least gestures at real compelling character arcs and dilemmas. This, well, what you see is what you get? Like, there’s zero false marketing, the entire book is entirely dedicated to hitting the exact broad emotional beats you would expect it to. There’s not really any interest in the world beyond the cafe, it is in fact a plot point that Viv attracts a found family she clicks perfectly with and their relationships are all uniformly positive, and there is exactly one point where she suffers any sort of real reversal – which lasts for about five pages before everyone comes together and rebuilds things even better than ever. There is a wizened gnome whose clearly living time backwards who takes the time to pat Viv on the should and reassure her that everything turns out alright, in about as many words. There's clearly a market for this, and I am not it.

Morality in the book is basically synonymous with niceness. If someone is friendly or at least polite to Viv then even if they seem like an obvious problem in the end they’ll turn out to have their heart in the right place and only want the best – as, for example, the local crime boss proves to be a nice old lady who accepts an order of cinnamon buns every week as ‘protection money’ and donates several shipments of materials to rebuilding the place without any expectation of payment or stake in return. The only two characters in the book who are rude assholes to someone in the cafe are also coincidentally the only real villains there are.

All of this is stuff that on some level I more or less expected opening into the book. The thing that actually disappointed me is that this fluffy book about opening a coffee shop doesn’t actually care about coffee. If you’re going to make it the centrepiece of your whole book, I expect some exultation and appreciation of the stuff! Give me self-indulgent passages going into detail about the smell and taste and smell and experience of it. Make me put down the thing actually craving a latte!

But the book’s mostly interested in the, like, trappings and signifiers associated with a cafe, not (despite Viv’s theoretical obsession with it) the actual coffee. This feels like a point that generalizes. (There actually is a decent amount of detail spent on the baked goods their genius baker invents, which just makes the lack feel stranger.)

As an aside, and I know this is very clearly not a book that expects you to care about the worldbuilding, but it’s kind of strange that coffee is presented as this new exotic novelty to a vaguely European fantasy metropolis that is explicitly already familiar and comfortable with tea? Like obviously the historical analogues aren’t worth getting into – Viv is creating a cute neighberhood coffeehouse by a college campus, no a 17th century Venetian cafe – but it’s not the first place I’ve seen the same portrayal of the two drinks and it’s, odd? Like it’s not like tea is any less foreign to Europe, or arrived particularly earlier.

But anyway, yeah, didn’t enjoy this but can’t say I was misled. It is in fact a book that you can entirely judge by its cover and not be surprised one bit.

#legends and lattes #sff #hugo nom #book review #travis baldree

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ddemurezy · 1 year

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The Witch of Westeros

PROLOGUE - see you on the other side

-×-

disclaimer:

I don't own the Scarlet Witch and her storyline, credits to Marvel and Stan Lee.

gif not mine!! got it from pinterest!

this fanfic doesn't follow the plot of the series of HOTD nor it's books. I simply made it up. major spoilers for doctor strange: multiverse of madness.

note:

tbh, this is my first time ever writing a story in 2nd pov so if it sucks, I'm sorry😭

anyway, It's finally here! sorry for the long wait, hope you enjoy!!

warnings:

mention of blood, stabbing, heads cut off, turning things to ashes. I think that's all, if there's anything I missed out, don't be afraid tell me. !! NOT EDITED !!

-×-

The sound of roaring and explosion mixed with the smell of fire, gunpowder, and the distinct, metallic tang of blood was the only thing you can comprehend at this moment. Your eyes darted from your companions to the demons you were fighting. The fight would’ve ended ages ago if you didn’t know there were thousands—no, millions, of them. Not to mention they can regenerate making your head hurt more than it already did.

Saving the multiverse became a job—a responsibility, more likely— for not only you but for Dr. Strange and surprisingly, Loki. It’s been months, years, or perhaps it has been decades since you have been saving the multiverse. Time has been a bit complicated for you, per se.

You, The Master of Mystic Arts, and the God of Mischief traveled to countless realities, defeating enemies such as demons, monsters, or even evil variants of yourselves.

Going through infinite dimensions and saving the other realities was the least idea you thought you would be doing in the future when you first joined the Avengers. Yet here you were, fighting your way through a crowd of merciless nightmarish demonic creatures who can regenerate. Your mission was to retrieve a necklace that holds much power and once belonged to a god and was now passed down to its descendants. It was stored inside the temple on the very top of the mountain that the demonic creatures were guarding. You’re meant to grab it, bring it back to the owner before anyone else can use it to their advantage, and leave without a hassle.

“Anyone care to help me here?” Dr. Strange yelled from a few miles away. He created a portal, making the group of demons from his fall down and he snapped the portal shut, cutting the heads off.

“Classic.” Loki chuckled, witnessing the action as he move to stab the demon that jumped on him, grimacing when its blood hit his face.

You smirked, blasting ten demonic creatures away from you, turning them to ashes as they tried attacking you again. “I don’t think you need anymore help from there, Stephen.” you teased and the said man groaned when another group started hitting him.

“Damn demons. Can’t you do your thing and kill them all, Wanda?” Dr. Strange asked.

“I can, but they keep coming back no matter what.” You told them.

Loki muttered under his breath before sharing his thoughts. “They just keep coming back no matter how many times we kill them. It’s impossible for this to happen.”

“Loki, we are in a different reality. I don’t think there is anything more impossible than this.” You retorted, flicking your wrist and lifting one demon and throwing it to the approaching group.

“What I mean is, there’s a possibility that something or perhaps, someone is summoning them.” Loki proclaimed his theory.

“A distraction.” You sighed out in realization, your eyes widening as you looked around for any sign of different figures in the crowd. A figure walked by miles away from you guys. They were wearing a black hood over their head, covering their face.

They must’ve felt your gaze and turn to look at you, their purple strange eyes meeting yours before they glared and ran away.

“Stay here! I’ll handle this.” You shouted to them, lifting yourself with your magic and flying toward where the figure went, ignoring the yells of protest of your two friends.

You flew away from the crowd of creatures and landed in front of the small cottage you saw them run into, placing a shield behind you so that they cannot attack you from behind. Your eyes hardened seeing it all dark with no trace of light anywhere. Hesitantly, you stepped in, summoning your magic to see a little clearer and to be ready to fight if something or someone attacks you.

The sound of footsteps approaching behind you alarmed you and you turn around, ready to blast your magic to them until you saw their faces when they got closer.

“Loki! Stephen!” You gasped in surprised, internally sighing in relief when you saw them before frowning. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you I will handle this.” you scolded.

“We can’t just leave you to walk in here with no back ups.” Loki reasoned and Dr. Strange nodded beside him.

There was no point in fighting so you just nodded and lead the way deeper into the dark cottage that seems to be bigger on the inside. As you walked in silence with all your guard up, a clashing sound was heard behind you, alarming the three of you.

“He’s right, Wanda. We know you can handle yourself but we need to make sure you’re safe.” Stephen said.

But before any of you could say a word, a figure stepped in front of you and pressed two fingers on your temples making you freeze in place.

You could hear Loki and Stephen yelling behind you, and they seem like they were struggling too but you can’t focus on them or anything but the pain you felt on your mind that’s spreading through your whole body. They leaned down and whisper in your ear before letting you go. You tried fighting it and summoning your magic but it was impossible to move. A portal started growing from under your feet and before you could grab into anything, you fell down fast in an unknown, perhaps never ending, hole.

But you remembered what they had whispered in your ear.

“Видимо се на другој страни.”

See you on the other side.

#hotd x reader #dsmom spoilers #wanda maximoff #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon

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sagittato · 5 months

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This is my first post and it’s gonna be low effort because I swear I can’t get this off my mind—

Do people from twisted wonderland realize how much Azul Ashengrotto could potentially look up at Vil Schoenhiet??? ONLY @jxnebuggy ACKNOWLEDGES THIS IN HER fem!twst FANFICS AND IT DRIVES ME INSANE!!!

Vil is a successful, confident, drop dead gorgeous fashion icon. He has a whole business for cosmetics because he’s so gorgeous. He’s very skilled in potion making, so much so bro makes his OWN makeup. He has a strict diet he follows and it’s clearly gving him the results he wants. Vil Schoenheit is everything Azul wants to be!! On top of that, Vil is Azul’s bloody UPPERCLASSMAN.

And does everyone forget how Azul literally info dumped about the man in Book 5 Chapter 2?? Nobody talks about it. They’re too busy headcannoning Sebek or Riddle or Floyd to be neurodivergent af (jkjk)!! Such a shame Vil told him to stfu but in his own pretty, 3w4-coded ways😔😔

Azul has shown before he will invest inhumane amounts of time into things he thinks are important. An example of this is in his birthday jackect card, he talked in a fair amount of detail about the quality of the pillow Ace gave him. He could do this because he researched ON pillow qualities.

It’s likely when he was trying to step up his game with success or diet, he stumbled upon Vil, researched the frick out of this guy, and lo and behold became a fan of his.

Some honourable mentions are when he made a deal with Vil in his ceremonial robes. I haven’t seen it because I wanna save the feeling of raw happiness with these two characters interacting once I get the card. If we didn’t see Azul show any sort of fan behaviour when Vil made that deal then I firmly believe he was kicking, giggling, twirling his hair off camera behind closed doors over it. Then I do hear in the second Camp Vargas event, Azul and Vil had some more interactions! I thiiiiiiink they were getting competitive with each other??? That changes nothing from my ignorant eye. It’s NRC. Everyone is really competitive and will turn on each other’s backs faster than Leona can fall asleep (bro’s actually depressed, I swear).

Anyway, I think it’s only right I list my headcanons now for them:

Azul gobbles up any dietary/beauty tips Vil has

Azul uses Vil’s makeup brand that’s probably vegan

He also collects Vil’s magazines and puts them all in a box hidden away in his closet or under his bed

Vil probably finds him annoying💀💀💀 (what can I say? he has a reputation for not stfu around higher class people)

Elaborating on that, Vil does respect his success but I bet he can see the unhealthy greed that lies under it all. Thus, that’s prolly a reason why he would try to distance himself away from Azul.

BADLY wants to collaborate with Vil because Mostro Lounge profits would soar if they did. Knowing his bold arse he probably made the request at least thrice and Vil shut him down each time. He’s obviously not gonna stop because we all know him. (never back down never what—)

Yes, I know he canonically looks up to Ursula, but I think he would like someone… yknow… alive to look up to.

Keep in mind I’m only on Book 5 Chapter 29 as of this moment so it’s totally possible I missed some things! Leave your opinions, headcanons, or anything else in the comments, I’d love to see them! Do leave spolier warnings though. That way I can decide whether I wanna spoil things first myself or not.

EDIT: I already fixed it but did I really just say book 6 😭😭😭 i meant book 5 i am so sry hdgdhjjjdhdjj

#azul ashengrotto #vil schoenheit #i’m procrastinating #the world needs to know how great the azul & vil duo is #first post #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland rant

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