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#i hate that i have to do this content shit just for my job now it takes so much effort when i should be yknow
aizawas-dryeye · 2 days
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➭shiny (leon kennedy)^^
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content: DARK CONTENT, noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, smut, reader has a vagina but no pronouns, re4!leon, wet dreams, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie, he thinks about drugging u, leon feels terrible but he also doesn't care enough,, gore mentioned, catholicism also mentioned LMAOOOO
words: 2.9k
!!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
bitch please read the tags like u must
• • •
The mission was absolutely draining, and Leon isn't even knee deep in it yet. On paper, it sounded like the easiest thing in the world (and it usually does; he found that out quickly while working for the President). Find the First Daughter and bring her home. Cut and dry, really. But Leon's had shit luck his entire life, so why would he start being fortunate now? His idiot superiors neglected to mention the cult of parasitic psychopaths that inhabited the village, so now his super easy, cut and dry mission has turned into a horrific gore fest. At least they were smart enough to send him with back up, as much as he hates to admit it.
Leon's never been one to play nice with others when it comes to The Job. He's got such a big dick ego (and a hero complex to boot), and it honestly makes him insufferable to work with. But so far, he doesn't really have a problem with you. You're competent, quick on your feet, and got a pretty little face that serves as his own personal pallet cleanser after staring at putrid monsters for hours on end. He'd say you're bordering on distracting, but that wouldn't be fair; it's not like it's your fault Leon likes to gawk at you like some horny teenage boy.
He intended to keep his distance during the mission, keep his eye on you sure, but never more than that. Hell, he hardly even speaks to you unless strictly necessary, opting to use hand signals whenever he can. But again, Leon has shit luck and the universe really loves to test his patience because now he's trapped in a run down cabin with you, thanks to the raging storm outside. Normally he'd keep it pushing, but the rain had gotten so thick that neither of you could see two feet ahead. It's honestly a surprise you even managed to find the little cabin as you wandered blindly across the slippery mud trails.
Did Hunnigan really not see this coming? Did nobody think to check the fucking weather or do they just like to fuck with him? The rescue helicopters can't even make it to the village until the storm calms down, which means he'll be here even longer. Whatever. He knows where Ashley is so he can't be too grumpy about this, though he's ready to get it over with so he can leave this awful place. The stench of decaying flesh was starting to make his head throb.
Leon hears you shuffling around in the cabin, most likely pulling supplies together, but he keeps his gaze towards the window, trying his best to see any signs of movement. Seems like the rain slowed the ganados down significantly, so Leon isn't too worried, but the tension in the air makes his skin prick. The tight military gear certainly doesn't help.
He feels a soft thunk against his left shoulder that makes him jump, and he turns around to glare at you. "What?" he hisses. He glances down at the rotting floor to see a granola bar.
"Just thought you could eat while you spiral. My fault," you say flatly, giving him a shrug. You had set up a little spot on the cleanest part of the floor so you could easily go through your pack to take inventory. You're both short on ammo and medicine, and it's highly unlikely that this shit hole has anything y'all could use.
"We need to move soon. My pistol is completely out and I doubt there'd be much ammo in here."
Leon rolls his eyes at you and stalks over to where you're sitting, granola in hand. "No shit. If you wanna wander around the village completely blind, be my guest."
His voice is strained and short, and it's painfully obvious he's pissed, but so are you! He's not the only one stressed and exhausted, and the way he's acting is starting to get on your nerves.
You snap your pistol back together and stand up.
"Well, I'm going to look for supplies. Have fun sulking in here, Sunshine," you say. Leon huffs and and makes a pitiful attempt to hide the fact that he stares at you while you leave the room. It doesn't surprise you, lot of the male agents you work with are pervs, but at least Leon doesn't make it blatantly obvious. Just obvious enough that it gets under your skin.
Leon finishes his sad, little granola bar and leans up against the wall, eyes shut. He's absolutely wrecked from this mission so far, and he’s not even halfway done. Every fiber of his being is telling him to just say fuck it and brave the hurricane outside, but this isn't something he can go risking his life over. No Leon, no Ashley, and he doubts you can finish the job yourself. The thought makes him snicker— half heartedly sure, but he's got nothing if he can't find at least a little humor amidst imminent death.
A few more minutes pass and you're still not back. The cabin isn't big enough for a sweep to take this long. You probably got distracted by some mundane shit like letters or family photos. It's cute. How you still have enough energy to care about monsters lives after gunning down hoards of them not even an hour ago. Still, it makes him uneasy that he can't hear you, call it abandonment issues or whatever the fuck.
A crack of thunder shakes the walls of the cabin and the loud, booming sound irritates Leon's tinnitus. Makes his head pound like nothing else. Maybe you found some medicine, painkillers at the very least.
Leon decides to stalk through the house to find you, ends up spotting half your body under a dusty, broken down bed. He kinda hates himself when he shamelessly stares at your ass as you rifle around for whatever you found. Your back even arches (not unlike all those actresses in the porn he regularly consumes) as you go to push yourself out from under the bed.
"Anything?" he asks, leaning up against the doorframe. He even cracks a smile when he sees you struggling to shimmy out from underneath the, frankly short, bed frame.
"Yeah," you say, sounding hopeful. "Check this out."
You pull a small box out from underneath the bed and open it up for Leon. It's not a lot, but there's at least a case of shotgun shells and half a thing of pistol ammo.
Leon scoffs loudly and stalks over to you. He grabs the box and rifles through it. "That ain't shit," he says, dismissively tossing the box on the mattress. A plume of dust puffs off the sheets.
You cock a brow at him and stand up. "Oh, you're right, Sunshine," you say. The way Leon rolls his eyes at the sarcasm only annoys you further.
"Let me just go to the nearest Bass Pro and fucking stock up. Silly me."
You flop down on the bed and put an arm over your tired eyes. A fucking headache, this guy. It makes the vein in your temple pulse. Despite that, there's a blissful minute of silence where you can just lay there and listen to the strengthening thunderstorm outside.
You feel the mattress dip next to you and peek through your arm to see Leon shedding his backpack and guns. With a grunt, he scoots himself further up the bed so he's propped up against the headboard, eyes pinched shut. The irritated wrinkle between his eyebrows doesn't smooth out even as he gets comfortable, and you're almost certain that his face is just permanently like that.
"Take first watch," he says, crossing his stupidly large arms over his chest.
"Excuse me?"
He sighs and opens his eyes to glare at you. "We have nothing better to do than rest. This isn't a little sleepover where we can paint each other's nails and gossip about boys," he says mockingly.
You scoff and immediately get off the bed, snatching up his shotgun as you go. You make sure to leave him with a parting 'Go fuck yourself' and set up in what you assume used to be a living room.
Leon falls asleep in record time. To be fair, his aching muscles didn't have much energy left after 5 consecutive hours of bullshit, and the granola bar didn't exactly fill his tank. He wasn't expecting a completely peaceful and fulfilling nap— he hasn't had one of those in years, let's be honest— but he certainly wasn't expecting to be passed out for over an hour. It's almost like his body eventually rejects the relaxation, jolting him awake with a gasp. His brain is still fuzzy and the remnants of his dream flood his memory; touching skin and gentle, rhythmic panting. He can't put a face to the body that squirmed beneath him, but their desperate sounds play over and over in his head.
God, his skin is on fire. And the murky, rainy air does little to help. His clothes feel restricting, making him groan and toss his head back. It takes a while for him to even realize he's hard, only does when his dick twitches and bumps the protective cup in his pants.
A flash of silver lightning shines outside the cracked bedroom window, catches his eye, and he turns to look. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees you lying next to him on the bed. You're sound asleep, curled up on the very edge of the mattress so as to not disturb Leon while he slept.
He's not even mad that you didn't wake him up to take watch— anxious as hell because someone could have snuck in while you both slept, sure— but the faster his heart beats, the more his cock throbs.
Leon groans again and unbuckles his belt for some relief. He glances over at you again, rakes his eyes over the curves and dips of your body as you snore softly. A noise escapes you, a sigh most likely, but the breathy sound makes his balls tighten pathetically. His hands move to his zipper before he even fully realizes what he's doing.
It doesn't take long for him to pull his pants down, nearly ripping off his cup so he can palm his erection through his boxers.
That's all, he tells himself, biting his lip as pleasure runs down his legs. Just a bit of relief, nothing more. It's inappropriate, after all, and what is Leon if not the epitome of a golden boy. A really, really fucked up, depressed, traumatized golden boy, but one nonetheless.
He runs a tight fist down his clothed cock and grits his teeth. The scratchy cotton of his boxers is irritating as hell and doesn't leave much room for proper stimulation. Still, it doesn't stop him from leaking an embarrassing amount of pre cum, staining the grey fabric in an inky black.
Another deliciously breathy sound from you, and another groan from Leon before he decides fuck it. He squeezes his dick so hard it hurts. Pain was never really his thing in that way, always opting to punish himself instead whenever he had these thoughts. Like the good Lord taught. But the way his cock aches and pulses afterwards makes him whimper.
You kick a little in your sleep and his eyes dart to your body. Sound asleep, probably dreaming, and Leon hopes to God you're dreaming of him. It's delusional as fuck, but he doesn't have half sense with the cloud of arousal fogging up his brain like this. Right, fuck it.
Before he fully knows what he's doing, Leon is pushing his underwear down and fully stroking his cock. His tip's wet enough that he doesn't need spit, and it makes his cheeks redden, a soft moan slipping passed his bitten lips. He leans over and very gently pushes one of your knees up, putting you in an accessible position.
You don't stir an inch as he reaches around you to clumsily unbuckle your belt, being as quickly— and as stealthily— as he can. The clinking sound of metal being pulled apart echoes in his head and his vision blurs, heart pounding in his chest, as he pulls down your cargo pants.
Leon doesn't do this— he shouldn't be doing this. He's a good Catholic boy, but Lord forgive him, something about this mission has already broken him. Broken down any resolve or inhibitions he may have previously had, making him all stony and cold. The shame is still there of course, always shame, but it's not enough to stop him. Maybe he even revels in it like some sick, perverted freak.
He settles himself closer to you, hot cock nestled comfortably between your asscheeks. A hesitant thrust and he has to bite his lip to muffle the pathetic sound he makes. Oh, he could cum just like this. Humping up against you like a sheltered virgin, all sweat and whining.
Leon can’t waste this opportunity though, and he’s this deep into it so why not go further. If you get him fired or sent to prison at least it’ll be a fucking vacation. He spits on his fingers and immediately slides them between your cunt. He’s not exactly what you’d really call gentle, but the porn he watches taught him that tempting little bitches don’t like gentle. When he’s decided that you’re wet enough— and pushes you so you arch your little pussy out— he smushes the tip of his cock against your hole.
Only then do you startle, opening your tired eyes as much as you can and mumbling a “Huh?” into your pillow. Your body is still in between fighting consciousness when Leon shoves his cock inside of you, and the surprised grunt you let out makes him curse.
You’re tight. Could be because you’re still dry, but Leon likes to think it’s because his cock is too much for you. You let out a raspy yelp when he thrusts against you, the force making you bounce up the mattress. He sinks the pads of his fingertips into your hips to keep you steady, before fucking you with a rough, fast pace despite himself. He knows he should savor this, God only knows the next time he’ll get pussy again, but burning need to cum consumes him. Attacks his prefrontal cortex like a fucking virus.
Still delirious, you can’t even fight Leon off. Not that you could even if you were fully awake; he’s a fucking tank compared to you. And it doesn’t help that his cock repeatedly plows against your cervix, knocking the wind out of you.
“L-Leon… wha’ are you doing?” you croak. The force of his thrusts makes dust puff off the mattress, making you choke on coughs. You turn your head as much as you can to look at him pleadingly. Even through the dark bedroom, you can see sweat glistening off his furrowed brow, and how he’s pointedly avoiding your gaze. He lets out a breathy grunt and he presses your face into the pillow roughly, hand right over your mouth.
“D-don’t,” he hisses, speeding his hips until your ass jiggles with each thrust. And just like that, his annoyance towards you comes crashing back. He misses when you were asleep, letting him touch and rub all over you with no defiance. Briefly, he wishes you had found painkillers, strong ones. Could keep you nice and pliant while he violates you.
“Fuck… Fuck!”
His balls tighten almost painfully, making him groan, head tossed back and eyebrows furrowed. White hot pleasure courses through his body so hard his thrusts turn sloppy, grinding against your ass like he wants to die like this. Buried deep in your pussy.
You feel Leon’s cock pulse before ropes of thick cum coat your walls. He’s panting like a beast above you as his balls finally empty, using your little hole like his own personal fleshlight. He slams his cock into you one last time for good measure, laughing under his shallow breath when you gasp harshly.
Relief washes over you when Leon pulls his softening cock from your hole before collapsing on the bed. He doesn’t even bother pulling your pants up, not that you expected him to, but fuck. It’s the least he could do. You lay there, unable to do anything about the uncomfortable, sticky sensation of cum dripping out of your hole.
After a moment of eerie, tense silence, Leon pulls his pants back up and lays as far away from you as possible. Thunder rattles the cabin, and he watches the smashed light fixture on the ceiling swing. He keeps his eyes on it, just so he doesn’t have to look at you. What’s worse is, he doesn’t regret it. Mainly, he feels bad. He’s never seen you so pathetic and it icks him out.
“Sorry,” he mutters, voice flat and void, before turning over and shutting his eyes. You know he’s not really sorry, it’s pretty apparent, but the apology makes your stomach feel a little warm. Not often a guy would apologize. You’re certainly not stupid enough to think Leon cares for you, but the fantasy takes over your mind and— even if it’s your fucked up way of coping— you feel yourself getting giddy.
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visgae · 1 year
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I'm very normal about nettles. I found a patch of winter retted nettles that were the perfect level of dead for fibre extraction! Will do an update video about what I make with it soon :)
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dmclemblems · 2 years
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man, imagine just... letting people have their own opinions of gw and not making fun of people who did or didn’t enjoy it.
people in this fandom are so aggressive.
you can talk about your opinions and even hate or love as strongly as the human heart allows! just... don’t say things like “people are stupid for thinking xyz”. you do realize you may have mutuals or even friends following you that see that and are now apprehensive to talk to you, especially about this game, right? that you might be offending your own friends and acquaintances with insulting terminology and you don’t know a friend feels that way because they’re too anxious to even tell you now because you’ve made it clear that you think everyone with xyz opinion is some insulting and hurting term?
it’s one thing to say things like “this is the best/worst route between both games and I love/hate it more than anything”. it’s another to say something like “everyone who loves/hates gw is an absolute retard who didn’t understand claude’s character in houses in the first place if they loved/hated gw”.
no, I’m not quoting anyone specifically, but I’m trying to iterate to you an example of the sorts of things I’m seeing people saying as if under the assumption that every single person in their space agrees with them and that they’re not risking hurting someone with their words.
yeah, you can hate the route or love the route with every fiber of your being. I’m just personally not sure that’s worth being hateful toward every single other human being who has the opposite opinion as you, or worth making people apprehensive about checking their social media every day because they follow people who are very likely to insult entire groups of people based on their likes/dislike in a fictional universe.
like, yeah, I didn’t enjoy the second half of gw... but you know what’s cool? I’m still close friends with someone who liked it and feels the opposite way that I do about the writing and about claude.
#it sucks too bc I have mutuals on Twitter who will NOT stop talking about it#and going out of their way to point out every instance of their opinion while like#degrading the people who don't agree#at that point like mind your own business and talk about things that are fun??? stop getting mad at people for their opinions???#it's really easy to go find something you enjoy on the damn internet it's like the easiest way ever lol#even when I just check regular tags for characters nowadays it's the same arguments#half or more of the content isn't the characters or fanart or anything like that anymore#it's just people arguing about stupid shit like okay we get it you do or don't like the writing in it#it doesn't mean you have to go out of your way to make other people feel bad about their opinion#it's one thing to discuss with people in your space (depending on which social media you use etc)#but to go out of your way or to outright insult people with the opposite opinion just makes you look like you're trying to start fights#when this game came out I wanted to remember it by being Billy's final work for his job and he did so so so good#and now it's hard to look at this game and think of it that way because I keep thinking of all the drama#it's still hard to listen to Ferdinand's lines and some more than others bc I was in Billy's streams a lot#so when I hear those things I tend to picture his face and it's still difficult for me. I still can't wrap my head around him being gone#and for two months at that now. I want to look at this game and think of the work he did and you know? if you don't that's fine#but it's hard for me to see it that way now when I just can't log on to ANYTHING on ANY day and see ANYTHING but arguing or like#people straight up insulting others and using offensive terms about people who didn't like something#like cool you loved/hated gw. wanna explain why you're tagging your hate for other people to see? would love to hear THAT explanation#it's kinda like how on Twitter I've had to block an obscene amount of people in the dmcl tags#bc they post the ship name i.e. a keyword in searches that will come up when fans look for content#and it's a bunch of offensive shit about the entire fanbase and how we're all disgusting people with shit opinions#and who don't enjoy the ship for actual context but apparently bc we just want to see two guys bang#imagine lumping an entire fandom of anything (ship character series etc) into an insulting and offensive box just bc YOU don't like it#or you had ONE bad experience with a fan of it so now you post hate in their search keywords instead of censoring it#so that it doesn't come up in someone's searches#literally how are you going to be prejudice about an entire group of shippers or character fans full of ppl you don't even KNOW?#and instead of talking to some of them to understand their reasoning you just post offensive shit in their searches/tags#this is the kind of shit I'm seeing with Hopes too which is why I'm mentioning it here
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qaanngi · 7 hours
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Scrolled to 2020 to try and update the file for Theo's birthday pic (HBD to him 💙) and that really was such a wonderful period for me in terms of drawing 🥲
#just wanted to update my signature but mobile app and browser don't work 🫠🫠🫠#le whiny text post#also the few asks I got back then were just stellar 🥲#it sucks that I don't feel the same joy and contentment when I draw anymore#idl PSA if anyone reads this far down my tags: never tell anyone they should draw: (1) just for fun. (2) for the success in their heart#(3) assume that they do not actually draw for themselves and proceed to tell them to not draw what fandoms want despite. like look at their#fucking body of work before you say something that presumptive and dismissive 🙄#(4) don't assume they are just* clout chasing. I lost my job in the middle of COVID and still had a whole year's worth of tuition to pay#in the middle of lockdown. so no money for anything including necessities. foolishly thought I might be good enough for comms#very very VERY foolishly put out a rhetorical Q on how to build a following. again my bad for assuming I'm good enough#and then was told indirectly that 'people conflate numbers with worth' and like yeah ok#but also I lost my job Jan 🫠#sometimes hyper positive 'encouragement' comes off so dismissive#and now (3 years later) I still can't even say what I draw is 'art.' I feel ashamed of sharing anything. I think everyone hates everything#draw (tho that is kind of a true fact with the gnshn fandom if we're talking art styles). I can't even call myself an 'aspiring artist'#I feel guilt and shame for wanting to have ever been one despite wanting to be one since I was a child and wanting to like open comms or#design prints and stickers and shit.#what they thought was 'encouraging' comes off dismissive. like getting scolded by your betters that you shouldn't aspire to have and do#the things that they have and do. and girl when I tell you it took a lifetime to get some of them to even acknowledge me 🫠#like hoping they thought of me as a peer but it sounds like I'm beneath them#and they are bigger fandom artists. all of them had either comms or something open and literally that's all I ever wanted. the other stuff#is clearly beyond me but idk. just sucks to hear bigger artists tell you to just be content to be the little nothing that you are and to no#aspire to achieve the things you want.#and I shouldn't let it get to but 3 years later and we have given up.#even lowering goals to just such small things and those can't even be achieved 👍#anyways HBD Theo. You gave up on the dream of being an artist. Me too 🤝💙🙃
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taylor-titmouse · 2 months
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hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator
i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.
this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.
i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:
DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE
hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.
and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.
you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.
okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.
YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS
good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.
porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!
as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.
while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!
to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!
YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY
hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.
god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!
this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).
okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!
also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.
abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.
I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT
kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.
please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.
as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.
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cotzucen · 8 months
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Jjk guys and whats gets them going
cw: intercourse (p in v), fingering, brief mention of bondage, grinding, boners, head (male and female receiving and giving), sex in public spaces.
a/n: can you tell who were my favs in this?? (Toge has me on my knees and Geto has me in a chokehold 🙁). All characters are aged up; 18+.
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Itadori Yuuji - Ass
Itadori Yuuji, who just simply, loves a nice ass. He likes to have a nice hold on yours at all times– ofcourse, he won't, he's not a creep who cops a feel out of nowhere, but trust me when I say in every situation, there's atleast one part of his brain thinking about your butt. It's an instinct. Beside, he's your boyfriend, you probably think about... something about him in a sexual matter all the time. Haha. He loves ass.
You cupped his jaw softly as he pushed you on the bed, hands on your thighs so you could find your place on his lap, hands now on the plush of your thighs.. roaming north. You couldn't help but smile, as he paid no mind to his hands.
"What is it?"
As he said this, they were crawling up your skirt, and he was sporting a face so innocent you'd be oblivious to what he was doing if you weren't the one feeling it, you couldn't help but laugh– did he even know?
His hands were still lifting your skirt up, stopping at your butt, palming it as he tilted his head at you, only making you laugh.
"You have– no shame–!"
He smiled, pressing his lips to your collarbone, peppering feather light kisses as he rejoiced in the sound of your laughter, even though he wasn't sure if you were laughing at him or not, either way, he was just happy to be here.
"What's there to be ashamed of– Shit."
You finally stopped laughing, due the the multiple hickeys left by Yuuji's sly lips, and as you squirmed, he pressed you further into his lap, feeling the reason he cursed out of nowhere.
"Maybe that."
"Then... do something about it."
He cursed alot more that night.
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Fushiguro Megumi - Voice
Fushiguro Megumi who can't get over the things your voice does to him. Always hushed but loud enough to be understood clearly, a sultry undertone only he can decode– he's the only one thinking about you in that way anyways. Megumi who loves but equally hates how one sentence a tone too suggestive from you has his pants suddenly feeling too tight– He can't get enough. It doesn't even have to be dirty!– Just say anything that can be taken the wrong way and if you take the time to look down, the effect you have on him will be pretty obvious.
Megumi accepted you in his arms, gently acting like a brace for your charged run at him, you haven't seen him in too long to even try and hold back, you knew he could handle it.
His arms helped you hug him more than he was hugging you, but the feeling of his hand on your back, pushing you closer to him was enough to let a wide smile and a fit of content sighs slip past your lips. Sounds that made Megumi's cheeks flush ever so slightly.
"I've missed you so much.." You sighed softly against the space between his neck and ear, leaving a chaste kiss right there. "Megumi."
"Don't act so surprised now.. You knew what you were doing." He muttered, almost incomprehensibly as he fumbled to unbutton your shirt, the bulge of his boxers and the haze of his eyes only serving to soak your underwear even more.
"Not my fault you can't help yourself.." He slid your blouse off of you so quick that you barely remember having it on, his warm, slim hands on your waist, then your thighs, eyes roaming on you, and your lips.
"You're right. I can't help myself, but you can." His pretty eyelashes fluttered down at you, leaning closer so he could press your back firmly to the bed, pushing his bulge against you, lips falling to your neck, a bit rough with his biting– but, if it gets the job done..
He fucked you pretty good that night.
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Inumaki Toge - Mouth
Inumaki Toge who just loves your mouth. Your lips, the tint, colour, texture– the way it moves. It's a bit of a dirty secret for him, eyes always trailing to your lips whenever he talks to you, not even because he wants to kiss you, just because it's just so natural for him. Not that he doesn't want to kiss you, but sometimes it's just more fun to stick his fingers in your mouth and watch you suck them. it's a dirty secret for a reason.
Toge loves your mouth. In a sexual way and.. okay it's all in a sexual way– he just loves your mouth. He likes spoon feeding you food and watch you swallow whatever was on it, or maybe just randomly curl his fingers in your mouth, always sporting a dirty smirk during and after.
It always turns something in him on, but as much as he loves the team your mouth and his active imagination make, nothing beats your mouth wrapped around his cock, like right now.
"Mmn– Ah–" He covered his mouth, not just to save the ears of anyone near, but one slip up and he might put you in a coma, for literally fucking your brains out.
You looked up at him as you sucked him off against his bedroom door, eyes fluttering up to meet his which only drove him even more crazy, legs almost giving in as his eyes stayed on you, hips jolting forward, deeper.
Your head bobbed at a steady rythym, hand pumping what you couldn't reach, dick wet with your spit, small veins sprawled around, veins that you felt all so well, deep in your throat.
His whines and groans and grunts replaced all the curses he wanted to yell but couldn't– biting his lip– how much more could he take? He was so... so close.
But as soon as you made the decision to suck on his tip? Oh, he came undone so quick, thick strings of cum spilling in your mouth, on your lips, some on your nose and dripping down your chin.
"You cummed more than usual, did I do a good job?" You asked, tilting your head with a small smirk.
You wiped the cum around your mouth with your thumb and licked it off, analyzing the taste as– Toge's dick brushed your lip, his tip staring at you, hard again.
"Already?" It was less of a question, more a genuine plee of worry and shock, as you looked up to a blushing Toge, shrugging as he took your chin, and pressed himself in your mouth once again.
He got overstimulated, the most horrible best head of his life.
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Okkotsu Yuuta - Hands
Okkotsu Yuuta who loves your hands. Whether you're tending to his injuries, or just brushing crumbs off his face, your fingers on him always results in a furious blush. His mind spirals, feeling so dizzy the way his blood rushes to his dick, it makes him feel horrible each time you innocently tend to him, but he isn't feeling so bad when he jerks off, imagining your hands instead of his. Except this time.. he didn't have to imagine.
Oh he felt so wrong– but he didn't want you to stop, he really didn't want you to stop.
It all started with the cinema staff, selling you tickets to one of their least viewed movies– ofcourse they had their doubts, a relatively young couple going to watch an unpopular movie, they knew the gist. But back then you guys really were just going to see the movie– Yuuta has been rambling about it all week, if anyone, his intentions were pure.
But he couldn't say the same now, his jeans unziped, boxers pulled down, your hand pumping his dick as he suppressed his moans, hiding his red face.
There was barely any other people, and you both were in the far back, nobody would see you guys; was your attempt at convincing Yuuta to let you give him a handjob, it didn't take much.
He was slowly getting louder, your thumb on his slit, rubbing his pretty, pink and sensitive tip, precum still dripping down his length to your hand.
"Shh, Yuuta, you need to quiet down." You leaned into him, whispering those words in his ear as he grunted, choosing to take matters in your own hands as you covered his mouth, feeling his moan on your palm.
"Mmn.. Come on Yuuta, you want to cum don't you? Then be quiet, cum all you want but stay quiet for me, 'kay?"
You pumped him faster, finally feeling him jolt as you rushed to angle his dick, away from himself, staining the back of the seat infront of him.
"M–Ah.." His muffled sounds coaxed you to remove your hand from his mouth. "Ah.. How... are we gonna clean that up?"
"Said the janitor."
You guys cleaned it up, Yuuta felt too guilty.
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Gojo Satoru - Clothing
Gojo Satoru who just loves anything you wear. That's it. He's a simple guy, wear a skimpy dress and oh no, it's suddenly on the floor. Though he loves the eye candy, he isn't very patient in bed... You know that lingerie set you bought? Yeah, it's in a the pile of ripped clothing, full of many pervious lingerie sets... There really isn't any limit to his horniness, Just exist and this man is all over you.
Partys were very hectic. Drinking, games, weed, people making out in random corners in houses of... People he equally doesn't know of. But what he does know, is having you grind up on him while wearing a dress that leaves so little to the imagination, makes him feel things that can't be describes as less than insanely horny. He intends to do something about it.
"Woah.. No way you're already that wet– You want me that bad?" He laughed, bending you over the kitchen table. Nobody was there, and if someone did come, Satoru genuinely woud not care, too focused on fucking you to give any more fucks.
Your underwear was soaked, Satoru slipping them down your legs, smiling as one rub of your clit had you flinching, quickly thrusting two fingers in as he unbuckled his pants, stretching your pussy wide so he could fit, your guttural moan fueling his own, hands on your ass, spreading you as he pressed his girth into you.
He grinded his dick into you, thrusting slowly, starting off with a steady pace, your wetness lubricating his dick, sliding in and out of you so easily– fingers flicking your clit continuously as he moved in you. Your moans and the creeking of the table udnerneeth tempting him to cum right then and there, but no– no, this was way to good to finish early.
You guys got caught, and kicked out. But atleast you both finished 🤷🏿‍♀️.
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Geto Suguru - Words
Geto Suguru who loves it when you talk dirty. Text him how bad you need him and he's already behind you, spreading your legs. Talk about how much you've missed him while trailing your hands on his chest and those hands will be tied together as he fucks you mercilessly (maybe a bit mercifully, he loves you after all). Imply anything and he will find the underlined want, he reads people well, and you're his favourite book.
"Mm– Ah- Suguru–!" You cummed in his mouth for what felt like the hundreth (fifth) time since you sent that text. You knew he got turned on by it but immediately ringing on your doorbell after one "I need you" text? This man was.. Something else.
His mouth worked wonders on your clit; kissing and sucking softly, tongue traveling in you resulting in his thumb replacing where his lips once were. His mouth and your cunt slick with your juices; previous releases– oh and don't forget how he worked his fingers. One finger stretched you– now imagine two of them– you could only take so much.
One hand was pressing your thigh against the couch, keeping your legs open as his other hand had two of his girthy fingers deep in you, thumb rubbing circles on your clit as his lips kissed the surrounding area– notably your inner thighs, eyes focused on your face.
Did he know how hot he looked right now? Your cunt clenched around his fingers and he smirked, only making you react further, fingers curling just the way you liked it, you made it so easy for him.
"You like that?" And you squirmed, Suguru internally noting that as a yes as his fingers moved faster, hand spreading your legs further open.
"Gonna need you to keep your legs open for me." He gazed down at you leaving a couple hickies your thighs, your thighs instinctevely closing but his grip was stronger, observing eye never leaving you.
"Come on, nothing to say?" He chuckled. "That's not what I read earlier, you need me don't you? Need me in you or my fingers? Want me to fuck you senseless or.."
He kissed your thigh up further, fingers moving at such a fast pace– Oh god you can't take much more.
"Mn–Ah–! Suguru G'nna cum– 'M so close–!"
"Yeah?"
He smirked, stopping, making you beg for release, taking a moment to revel in your desperate plees, before giving in and letting your cum on his fingers, bringing them up to his lips, murmuring something about 'way better than curses'.
"Open up."
His cum sokaed fingers teased at your lips, dripping down to your chin as you obeyed. He paused just for a second to look at your opened mouth, letting his mind run before pressing his index and middle finger deep in your throat, making you gag slightly.
"Suck my fingers."
You obeyed again, Suguru briefly muttering a 'good girl', proceeding to lower his head again, now with three fingers at his disposal.
Three fingers wasn't enough to prepare you.
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Nanami Kento - Actions
Nanami Kento that just finds everything you do, insanely attractive. Walk in a certain way and he suddenly feels hot, tilt your head a bit too much and two hickeys will magically find their ways to your neck. Exorcize a curse too well, and his back will suddenly be littered with marks. It's not like he's horny all the time– you just give him no choice, not when the moment you see that glint in his eyes you're suddenly all over him. He doesn't make the rules, but you definitely abide by them.
Kento may be called a stickler for the rules but that's simply what he is. For one, he isn't one to partake in public indecency.
Gojo might, God knows Kento holds him to no standards. But he does hold himself to many, and fucking in a parking lot isn't something that fits in those standards. Not like he cares right now anyways, he's pussy drunk.
His hands were on your ass, your nipple in his mouth, licking and teasing as you bounced on him, your body above him, hips raised ever so slightly to fuck you aswell, breathy grunts leaving his lips.
It's not his fault that during your weekly night drive you decide to tease him. Sure, holding his hand isn't technically teasing, but– Come on, you were rubbing his finger so suggestively– pulling his hands from your thigh closer to your core– you can't blame him.
The car was feeling all too warm, his seat moved back to accommodate the both of you, his hand under the crook of your knee, raising your leg so he could–
"Mn‐Ah! Kent-ngh–!" He slapped your ass. hips rutting up into you, so deep but not deep enough– lewd squelching sounds muffled by the sound sounds your moans, having to brace yourself by holding onto the car door, anything–
"Agh–" He cummed, velvety walls getting filled with his warm seed, cock still in you so nothing could spill out, mouth moving from your sentive nipples up your neck to your lips, soft and supple, your cunt clenching around him, fluids meshing together.
"This was a one time thing. Next time will be in bed."
The next time, was in fact, not in bed.
6K notes · View notes
reidmotif · 9 months
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Popsicle Love
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Summary: Reader and Spencer are at a ridiculously hot precinct station, getting on each other's nerves arguing. Reader realizes she can get back at him, using a certain sweet treat.
Prompt: Spencer can't deal with how much Reader loves popsicles/ice cream cones
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: Reader POV, rough sex, hair-pulling, dom!Spencer, coworker relationship, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving) , dirty talk, heavy making-out, unprotected penetrative sex, bathroom sex, hate-fucking, pure smut
Word Count: 3.2k
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“It is too fucking hot for this” was my first thought as he began talking to me. Fuck Spencer Reid, because he was the who decided that today, in the sweltering Georgia heat, was the day he would annoy the ever-loving shit out of me. 
“You’re going about this all wrong!” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. His sleeves were pulled up, and there was anger in his eyes. I crossed my legs, feeling my skirt ride up but I honestly couldn’t care less. It was scorching, and I was determined to not lose this argument to Reid. I let out a breath of air, meeting him with my own annoyed, exasperated expression. 
“Reid, you’re being absolutely childish right now.” I retorted. “Sort through the paperwork first, then analyze it! Not everyone wants to do things the way you insist on doing them!” I say, furrowing my brows. 
“Not everyone can.” He says, cockily, a smirk gracing his lips. That motherfucker. 
I was about to get up and honestly hit him square in the jaw, half from my delusion in the heat, and half from how fucking smug he sounded. I wanted to knock that smirk off his face, and maybe ruin that pretty smile of his in the process, just as an added bonus. 
Thankfully, before I could do anything rash that would definitely result in me losing my job, one of the officers of the station quickly came to interrupt us. 
“Hey, one of the officers brought in popsicles. If any of y’all would like any, they’re in the breakroom.” She said, turning away. Thank God for Southern hospitality, I suppose. 
I sighed, getting up from my spot. Spencer and I clearly weren’t getting anywhere when it came to our disagreements, and that’s how it was, and how it would remain to be. The man was a pain-in-the-fucking ass, and it was an honest shame, considering the fact he was actually pretty hot, especially when his mouth wasn’t moving. 
Spencer walked ahead of me, the idea of something to cool him down enticing him just as much as it did me. We reached the breakroom and he opened the freezer, taking out the box of popsicles, and looking into it. He pulled out two, presumably one for me, and one for him. 
“Blue or red?” He says, holding out the brightly colored packages, offering me a choice of one. 
“Red.” I say, reaching over with no hesitation and grabbing the red-colored packaging in his hand. “Duh.” I added, starting to unwrap the treat. “It’s the best flavor.” 
He scoffed a little, opening up his own, blue package, and I rolled my eyes at the sound. 
“What, are you going to argue with me about my choices in popsicle flavor too now?” I say, with a disbelieving tone. 
“No, it’s nothing,” He says, shrugging, with that same, shit-eating, self-satisfied grin.
 God, I hated him. 
I gave a deep exhale through my nose, forcing myself to calm down. I decided it’d be for the best if I walked out, left him here alone to avoid another fight. He called out before I could even walk two steps. 
“You have to eat here.” He said, taking licks at his popsicle. “The officers- they’re old fashioned. I don’t know.” He adds, “If you wanna be yelled at though, be my guest.”
I grumbled internally at that, but I knew he was right. I didn’t want to be yelled at. 
I took my place, leaning against a table that had been placed in the breakroom and taking my own popsicle out of the packaging, beginning to eat it. I sighed happily as I felt the taste settle on my tongue, the coolness blooming throughout my mouth. I began by licking the sides before taking it in my mouth. I suckled for a minute, and I could feel it already melting down my fingers a bit, due to the heat in the station. I released the popsicle in my mouth with a pop, before going to lick the sticky residue off my fingers. It was a little childish, sure, but it was hot and it wasn’t like anyone was watching me. I continued this cycle, softly sucking at the popsicle and wrapping my tongue around it until I heard what sounded like ... a whimper from across the room? I let my eyes drift up, noticing a seemingly flustered Spencer in the corner of my eye. He leaned away from me, crossing his legs. I knitted my brows, before putting the pieces together, realizing what had happened. 
He was a guy, after all. And I suppose the way I was eating my popsicle could come off as suggestive, but come on! How else was I meant to eat it? And armed with the knowledge that my innocent action was enough to provoke him, I decided a little more intent in my movement couldn’t hurt. 
I began to take the popsicle a little more vigorously, bobbing my head a bit. My lips wrapped around the treat, and I could feel Spencer’s eyes shamelessly on me and internally grinned. Good. He had annoyed me all day, and the idea of him dealing with a hard-on with no way to relieve himself was definitely karmic justice in my eyes. I closed my eyes, savoring the taste, but also in the way I could feel Spencer shifting around, trying to hide what seemed like a fast-growing erection. When I hollowed out my cheeks, and swirled my tongue around the sweetness in my mouth, I could hear a sound from the back of his throat escaping his lips. I let the popsicle out of my mouth, and in that moment, a melted chunk seemed to fall off, landing itself on my chest. I hissed, feeling the coldness of the tacky liquid running down my bare skin. 
“Shit.” I said, trying to flick off the liquid off my hands and realizing I’d need to clean myself up. I dropped the remainder of the popsicle in the trash, not bothering to look back, before I walked over to the bathroom. I let out a breath of air as I opened the door to the precinct bathroom, looking at my chest and sighing, grabbing a handful of paper towels to run under the sink to wash myself with. 
Before I could do that though, I heard the door swing open, and saw through the mirror it was none other than Spencer Reid.  I crossed my arms, putting my back to the counter of the sink as I turned around to look him up and down. 
“What are you doing here?” I remarked, with a displeased tone. 
He looked absolutely furious, and there was a slight part of me that was excited, knowing I could rile him up like this. He was breathing heavily, and moving closer to me, trapping me in between the counter and his body, and what felt like a very noticeable hardness pressing against my thigh. 
“The better question is, what the fuck are you doing?” He asked, his tone low and menacing. 
I rolled my eyes, before feigning a look of innocence, making my eyes wide. “What do you mean, Spencer?” 
“You know exactly what I mean.” He responds, gripping a piece of hair at the back of my skull and pulling slightly, forcing me to bare my neck to him. “Where do you get off doing something like that to me, huh?” He murmurs, leaning closer and letting his lips brush over the shell of my ear. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I retorted hastily,  but I could hear the shakiness in my voice. The way he was speaking, the pull he had on my hair- it thrilled me, and contributed to a growing heat between my legs. 
He pushed himself further and further against me, and I could feel his erection against my thigh even more so than before, and felt my stomach flutter at the feeling. My jaw dropped a bit, letting out a soft sigh, sensitive to the sensation. 
“Oh is that right?” Spencer replies, nodding as he spoke a little cruelly. “You like acting like this? Like a goddamn slut?” He grunts out. He twists and pulls my hair a little more, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. 
“You like it when I pull on your pretty hair like that?” He said, snarking the words at me. “Like how wet I make you?” He whispered, venom in his voice. 
Without warning, he placed his fingers at the growing wet patch at my underwear, roughly pushing it aside before starting to rub harsh, tight circles around my clit. I nearly lost my mind at the sensation, nearly doubling over with pleasure. 
I whimpered softly, and I could feel his smirk as he started to kiss up and down my neck. “So wet for me, mm?” He says, starting to move his fingers faster over my swollen clit. “I’ve barely touched you. You’re fucking needy for me, yeah?” 
I groaned, not processing enough of what he was saying to warrant a response. My brain was foggy from how good he was making me feel. I tried to not think about the fact that this was Spencer, the Spencer who’d annoyed me from the moment I’d joined the BAU. The Spencer I despised, the one I was supposed to hate- but here was, making me orgasm in a precinct bathroom with his fingers alone. 
He rubbed a bit faster, before thrusting two fingers into my needy cunt. I moaned again, louder, and he responded by burying his fingers even deeper into my core, pumping harshly. I could feel the room spinning, gripping onto the counter behind me to stabilize me as my orgasm began to approach me rapidly. He watched me intently, his gaze hot and intense before smirking. “Come for me. Come all over my fingers, (Y/N).” He whispered. 
I did, nearly on command, convulsing against him as I felt myself clench around his long, slender digits, my moans reverberating around the small space.
He withdrew his fingers suddenly, leaving me painfully empty before he began to grab my face roughly, forcing me to look at him.
“Say that you want this, bitch.” He whispers harshly, pulling my hair and eliciting yet another moan from me as he pushed me up against the counter. 
“Spencer..” I murmured, feeling my knees go a bit weak at how roughly he was manhandling me. He spun our positions around, and I felt him using the grip on my hair to push me down to my knees.
“Say it!” He said, a little more firmly now. “I need to hear you say it.” 
I felt the desperation in his tone, weakly looking up at him from this angle before I nodded quickly. 
“I want you. I want this.” I wailed, arousal coursing through my veins. I no longer cared about the humiliation of letting him use me like this. I wanted to chase this feeling forever, wanted to be at his mercy for as long as he wanted, as long as he could continue to make me feel this good. 
I felt him groan above me, before he pulled me closer to his bulge, raising an eyebrow. He looked absolutely wild from here, sweat dripping down from his brow, and sleeves pushed up. He breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down.
“Go on then. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He mocked, but I could tell his voice was strained with the exact same need I was feeling in the moment. 
I gave no protest, using my deft fingers to quickly undo his slacks, pulling them down along with his boxers, watching his heavy cock bob in the air for a moment, before looking up at him, my jaw slightly agape. 
Was this really happening?
He nodded, as if to give me an okay, and I didn’t need any more encouragement than that. I swirled my tongue around his tip,  watching in fascination as I heard a groan from him, his head falling back as he moaned. “Fuck, (Y/N). Just like that.”
I grew bolder with his praise. I began to take more of him in my mouth, using my hands where my tongue wouldn’t reach. I gripped and worked his base, while suckling on what my mouth could reach. As I got used to the intrusion in my mouth, I moved down slowly, eventually taking the whole of him. He moaned loudly at this, and gripped my hair tighter, starting to move me up and down his cock. I relaxed the muscles in my mouth, letting him use me as he pleased. I watched from the lower angle the best I could, the sight of him coming undone at my mouth absolutely gorgeous. I could feel the tears pooling in the corner of my eyes, the saliva dripping down from my mouth and covering my chest. I wanted to watch him fall apart, to be at my mercy just as much as I was at his. 
He moaned at the feeling, and I could feel myself get wetter at the sound. “Oh fuck. You feel so fucking good.” He groaned out, before grabbing my hair yet again, and holding my head in place. He started to fuck my throat roughly, and the tears began to flow a little more rapidly, feeling the pooling of saliva down my chin as I felt him hit the back of my throat.
“You like this, huh?” He teased from above, between pants and sighs. “Wanted me all riled up, so we could do this, right?” 
I nodded desperately, incoherent begs and whines coming from my mouth before he pulled me off with a tug. I felt delightfully dirty, as he forced me up again and kissed me roughly. I barely registered him turning us around in my lustful stupor, bending me mercilessly against the sink and lifting up my skirt, pulling my underwear down in a clean swoop. I could feel him squeezing the fat of my hips and moaned at the way he controlled me so easily, to which he let out a smug chuckle. 
He gripped my hair again, pulling my head up and forcing me to look at myself. We looked sinful, his cock pressing against my wet folds, teasing me. 
“See that? You look like a fucking whore.” He snarled, breathing heavily. 
I wasn’t going to let him win so easily. Even though I wanted the same things as him, I knew the more I teased him, the better I’d get from him. I  raised an eyebrow and breathlessly murmured, “Are you going to stand there and look at me, or are you going to  fuck me, Reid?” 
He bared his teeth at me, thrusting into me roughly with no warning. “Oh, you wanna be fucked? Then take it.” He groaned, starting to buck his hips against me like a man possessed. 
I moaned at the sudden feeling, letting my jaw drop fully to let out all my noises. I could feel the slaps of his skin against mine, and the smell of sex filling up the small space. His fingers gripped so tightly into my stomach I swear I could feel the bruises already blooming over my stomach. I let him fill me up, his thick cock passing through me roughly, over and over again. 
“So fucking warm and wet. You feel..” He paused, moaning and jutting against me faster. “So fucking good.” 
I could see the sweat dripping down his brow, and the way it collected down his neck. In this moment though, the only heat I could focus on was no longer the one around us, but the one that came from every brutal pass of his cock, creating a delicious burn I reveled in with every moment he stayed inside me. I moaned loudly, feeling myself get hotter and hotter with every second. 
I watched through the mirror as he fucked me into the counter with no restraint, his head thrown back, eyes shut as he continued to use me, plowing into me from behind. I could feel my knees getting weaker, feeling his cock twitch inside of me as I arched my back to take more of him. He groaned at the sensation of him bottoming out, the rhythm of his hips becoming irregular as he continued to rut into me. I rolled my hips against him, hoping to spur on our impending releases. He thrust into me once or twice , until I felt him come with a loud moan,  a familiar warmth pooling into my deepest point, but even then his hips didn't still. He fucked his own arousal into me, and I could feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, his lazy thrusts doing me in, and soon enough I was spasming over his cock, moaning loudly. 
He pulled out of me, and my eyes fluttered shut at the sudden emptiness. I could feel his cum dripping down my leg, and his eyes watching in fascination as the mixture of both of our releases leaked out of me. He pulled up my underwear, immediately soaking up the liquids, and I groaned at the feeling. He pulled me up, leaning me against the sink. 
I watched as he panted against the sink, and I swear, I would’ve fallen over without his steady grip on my hips. He and I were both flushed, my hair absolutely ruined from how hard he’d been pulling it, my tear-stained face still contorted in an expression of pleasure as we both recovered from the highs of our orgasms. 
“Did I hurt you?” He asks, in between his breaths, looking genuinely concerned. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
I laughed a little bit at that, shaking my head. “You were the perfect amount of rough. Don’t worry.” I say, waving him off a little, assuring him that I got just as much out of this as he did. 
As he tucked himself back into his pants, he grinned at me for seemingly no reason. I met his eyes with a confused expression, raising an eyebrow, pressing my lips together. “What are you grinning about?” I ask, trying to fix my hair as I look at him.
He walked over to me, turning me to face the mirror. I felt his chest against my back, and one of his large hands came to wrap themselves around me, before he ghosted a finger over my chest and whispered against my ear. “You still have some of that goddamn popsicle on you.” He says, trying not to laugh. 
I rolled my eyes, chuckling a bit as I remembered the entire reason he’d been provoked to do this, and went to go finally wipe off the sticky residue once and for all. “Oh yeah. Popsicle.” I said, teasingly. 
“Never do that again.” He says, starting to move away from me as he worked on making himself presentable enough to leave the bathroom with me. 
I paused, turning around to look at him, still appearing completely fucked out and dazed as I smirked a bit. “If it gets you to fuck me like that? No promises.” 
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wow! a short fic from me?! crazy!! i wanted to try my hand at writing something smutty, but short. this was specifically written for @imagining-in-the-margins summer sunshine challenge, so go check that out :3 thank you for any likes, reblogs or comments. <3 i'm eternally thankful
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cosmal · 1 year
Note
✪ — oh em gee what about ❛ this is a good look for you. ❜ with peter parker
stained
summary — peter spills a drink on your top at a party.
content — tasm!peterparker x fem!afab!reader, mentions of nudity
note — sorry this is super short! more of a baby blurb!
You sit on the edge of the toilet, naked from the waist up, while Peter is hunched over the bathroom sink, scrubbing at your shirt.
"Peter, just leave it, I'll wash it at home," you say softly. He looks really determined.
He'd spilt his drink all over your top downstairs at the party you're at. He'd felt horrible and insisted that he could get the stain out in the sink. The green stain out of your white top.
Turns out dawn soap and lukewarm water don't do the job. "I'm sorry, baby, really," he frets, holding the top up where it drips into the sink. You're not sure if he's made it better or worse. You appreciate him nonetheless.
"Pete, thank you, really," you start, shifting uncomfortably over the plastic lid. You cross your arms over your chest, where your bra digs into your skin, and look at the wet mess Peter holds in his hands. "It's okay. But now I have no top."
Peter drops the shirt looking really guilty. He feels horrible because he's ruined one of your favourite tops and he's also the reason you're half-naked in some random condo.
"Shit," he curses to himself.
He doesn't think twice. Peeling his jacket off, he stands at your knees and holds it out. "Here," he says bashfully. It's a thin jacket, made of nothing really. It's all you've got and you're not about to start complaining.
You stand to slip it on and hate it when you realise it has no zipper. Or any buttons. You pull it taut over your front and start to feel anxious. "Can you see anything?"
He pulls the collar forwards over your collarbones and smooths it out over your shoulders. "You're safe," he smiles. You watch his throat bob under the skin of his lightly stubbled neck. "It, uh, it looks really good."
"Pete," you groan while tipping your head back. "I'm naked, in the middle of the city, wearing my clumsy boyfriend's jacket, and you're getting turned on?"
"What?" he gawps, clearing his throat, "I am not! You just suit it, that's all."
You pull it tight around your middle and roll your eyes. "You're unbelievable."
He plays with the hem between his fingers, keeping his eyes planted to the floor momentarily. "It's a good look on you."
You straighten your back and ignore the way he's making you feel. Time and place you remember. "Right, we're going outside unnoticed and you're gonna hail a cab with those long arms of yours."
"You don't wanna swing home?" he asks.
"You don't have your shit," you grumble. It'd be convenient, but also reckless.
"My shit? You mean my suit?" he laughs, wrapping a hand around the hinge of your elbow. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that because I deserve it."
Peter makes sure you're decent before he opens the door to the bathroom. You stand behind him, hanging off his arm, hoping his broad shoulders will do you a favour and hide you well.
There's a drunk guy on the other side for the toilet presumably. Peter moves to the side to shield you on instinct when you squeak out a surprised noise. You push your chest against him to cover the slip of skin that struggles to be covered by the jacket, and let Peter guide you down the hall.
You lean in to whisper in his ear, "You owe me, Parker."
You get out onto the street when he says, "I'll show you how sorry I am when we get home."
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imyourbratzdoll · 4 months
Note
I have a request you are up for it. I kind of had this idea where Steve Rogers really screwed the Reader over in their past relationship and cheated on her with Sharon and dumped the reader for her. Even the avengers don't talk to her anymore and made her look like the toxic one in the relationship. two years later it's his and Sharon's wedding day and it was a beautiful and wonderful, however reader returns and decides to kill seek her revenge on Steve and Sharon and the rest of the team. Let's just say she gets it and Steve suffers. (Reader is a witch by the way)😈
hello honey, I hope you like what I've done.
summary - steve cheats on you, causing the team to turn against you to save the world from hating him. years later, you finally seek your revenge.
warning - angst, torture, cheating, dark content, badass female
the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)
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It had been two years since Steve Rogers broke your heart, you thought that would be the worst of it, but the fact the team turned on you and screwed you over by making it seem like you cheated on Captain America, causing the world to hate you, treating you like shit until the point you snapped. If they wanted a bad guy, they’ll get one. 
You sat in a dark room as the tv played, your ex was getting married to the tramp he cheated on you with. Your golden eyes sharpen as you glare at the screen, causing it to explode in sparks. You grin, the whole team would be in that church, making this so much easier for you. 
Your hands glow as you begin to hover, your long black dress falling gracefully around your legs. “Oh, the day that the Avengers fall and all by my hands.” Your laugh echoes throughout the room and you disappear, reappearing in front of the god-awful building. “Oh god, could their taste be any worse?” Your hands face down, levitating toward the church doors and flinging them open with your magic. The whole room falls quiet. “Well, well. Where was my invitation?” 
Your head tilts as Sharon huffs. “You aren’t welcome here!” Your eyes move around the room, connecting with each person. “Hello? Get the fuck out! Didn’t you realise you weren’t welcomed when Steve left you for me?!” 
You smile, your gaze moves back over to hers and you stare. Watching as she shivers under it. “Sharon, Sharon, Sharon. You should know not to mess with a witch, especially a pissed off one.” Your hand flies up, stopping a bullet midair, you slowly tilt your head, looking at the small metal object before your gaze follows where it came from. A grin forms on your face as you connect with Natasha’s. It appears you found something that made the big Black Widow shudder with fear. 
“Y/n, stop this. You are only hurting yourself.” You blink, once, twice, thrice before your laughter fills the room, sending chills up everyone’s spines. “Why are you laughing?! Do you not realise how insane you look right now?!” 
“Sweet, sweet Natasha.” The bullet melts as you direct your hand toward her, lifting her in the air, watching her dangle as she struggles. “I’m not hurting myself, I’ve finally healed from the pain you all put me through. Because, sure I loved Steve and it felt like my heart had been ripped out when he constantly cheated on me with some wannabe tramp. But I could’ve lived through that, what I wasn’t expecting was the heartbreak from the people I considered family.” A growl rumbles within your throat, eyes glowing brighter with each word and emotion. “I can no longer hurt myself when you did a wonderful job of it for me.” You twitch, you can feel the stupid witch trying to enter your mind, her magic feels like something irritating, like a jumper that continues to itch because someone made it out of that horrible fabric.
You continue your hold on Natasha, turning your head, gold meets red. “What are you doing, Little Witch?” You blink, sending her flying across the room, crashing into a row of ugly flowers, causing you to scrunch your nose. “Ew, who chooses weeds for their special day?” You huff, feeling a body slam into you and your other hand reaches out, strangling Vision as he tries to charge again. “What is with you people, don’t you know it’s rude to just attack a person.”
“Y/n stop. That’s enough.” Two years ago, your heart would’ve pounded inside your chest from hearing his voice. But now, your heart lies cold within your body. The rest of the team that you don’t have a hold on, stand, readying for a fight. It felt comedic. “If you don’t leave, we will make you leave.” 
You throw your head back, letting out another chilling laugh before your head falls forward and you glare at your ex. “You make me leave? Do you think you’re stronger than me? You may be Captain America, but deep down you’re just that weak little boy back in the 40s.” You float over to him, black and gold magic building beneath you in a cloud and the anger builds in your veins. Your hands fly back, throwing those you had in your hold against the church walls before you reach in front, releasing all your magic onto the one man, watching him fall to his knees. “You and your team are no match for me, Steve Rogers. You will never be, you will all fall before you even manage to take me with you.” You lower to the ground, standing over him, leaning over, moving your face close enough that it looks as though you are about to kiss. “You will beg me for your life. It may not be today or a year from now, but you will.” You grip his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look into your eyes as you smile. 
Your eyes flash, stopping Tony from approaching, his Iron Man suit begins to slowly enclose on him, squashing him from the inside. “Not so fast, Mr Stark.” Your magic wraps around Steve’s body, keeping him in his position as you turn and face the rest of the Avengers. You look at each and everyone of them, letting your magic explode around you and the room, wrapping around them. “Soon you will all fall, no longer loved, no longer remembered. The world will move on without you and in your demise, you will beg me for help, falling deeper and onto your knees. Sacrificing your beliefs and pride.” You begin to descend from the steps, smirking. “Hm, why don’t I continue to torture you guys some more.” 
With a wave of your hand, all their nightmares come to life. Every single person or thing that they don’t want to face appear in front of them, torturing them, allowing you to sit back and watch with a smile, a glass of wine appears in your hand as you watch them all suffer. A few hours pass and you grow bored, making everything disappear along with yourself. 
While your magic circulated around them, it allowed you to see their future and it gave you many ideas to how you could continue to ruin their lives. Starting with the man who destroyed you. You close your eyes, feeling your spirit escape you and travel back in time, appearing in front of a woman that many looked up to. 
“Peggy Carter.” She spins, looking around for the voice. Your eyes glow and your magic surrounds her. “The love you feel for Steve Rogers will turn into hate, he will appear soon and will want to stay. You will fill his head with every hurtful thing you’ve thought of. You will see who he really is and how much he has changed when he was the smaller version of himself. You will destroy him, rip out his heart and squash it in front of his eyes. He will finally know how it is to feel his heart being broken.” She blinks, walking over to the photo of Steve, staring at it, and wondering why she has it before Peggy grabs the photo and drops it into the bin. 
You smirk, disappearing back into your time and body. Your eyes open with an evil glint, staring right at the readers.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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officer!els<3
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author's note - meow i love this woman.
content warnings - black!coded!reader ig????, fluff, els i love u ellie williams pls handcuff me to ur bed and police-brutalize me! , text msgs from reader that are very me-coded! , mostly just based off every grumpy but cool cop i've seen in media, lots of notes from me i'm going insane I NEED HER!!!!! , there's a white man in a pic i put... you have been warned, smut/suggestive shit at the end!
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- def wanted to be a cop when she was a kid and then was a total fucking juvenile as a teen. (duh!)
- always loved the police officers who barely ever gave troubled kids a hard time. (this is coming from a troubled kid. acab all the way except for u guys. well, still acab, but y'all r cool!) would refuse to talk to anyone except her favorites. i fully believe that's one of the reasons she would go into this workforce.
- when she got approved to start training to be a cop, u were home with her favorite strand of weed and she gave u a look like, "🤨🤨" , "can't be doing that no more baby, i'm gonna be a cop." , "...stfu and take the first hit before you piss me off..." , she's wearing a SHIT-eating grin before she takes it. (don't ask me how she passes her drug-tests!) (probably gets jesse to do it or someone idk maybe joel if she's lucky!) (def not joel...)
- ADDING ONTO THIS!^^ : every single time you smoke when she can't she'll look so sad or just side-eye tf out of you... "really?" , "what do you want me to do ellie..." u stopped smoking around her when she couldn't...
- this woman is so intimidating but once those cop dogs come on the scene she's so cute<3 . she's so smiley and happy they love her AND SHE LOVES THEM. she definitely sent u a picture of her with the group of the babies and was like, "can we adopt them all pls i love them ):" . you guys adopted a rescue pup shortly after...
- whenever you're doing ANYTHING EVER she flashes her badge at you and says something so loser of her , "don't make me handcuff you..." or makes finger guns with the sounds and GOD I LOVE THIS WOMAN.
- speaking of badges, she always has her badge on her. ALWAYS. it is EMBARRASSING!
- when she got her first arrest she was so happy:3 . i FEEL like she took a picture with the fucker and everything and she looked so proud of herself. "good job baby now pls get to the station before that mf breaks out of those handcuffs he looks like he's gonna murder u..."
- this is a headcannon of mine (and canon so why am i saying hc maybe it's just bcs it's more in-depth in my head.) but she loves kids and whenever she sees a younger person at the station, she makes sure that they're ok and have everything they need.
- with that being said, she HATES the teens who don't have a valid reason to be such delinquents. lovable delinquents are her soft-spot but those... THOSE ONES😧.
- definitely is a kitten-saver-cop. hates getting the call but she responds every time.
- sends u this pic anytime u say something mildly threatening to her in text msgs:
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suggestive/NSFW!
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- the day she got her uniform, you wanted to jump her bones. she came back home, poor girl was so tired and all you could think about is how good she looked in that shit.
- like i said... the badge is with her at all times... maybe this is too feral but i feel like she put IT in ur mouth and took a polaroid of it after u were done eating her out or SSAAAWWWWMMMMTHHHIIIIING. (pls let me wear ur badge baby i'm on my knees BEGGING YOU!)
- definitely joked about role-playing jailer/jailed and then it wasn't a joke anymore. y'all tried it once and couldn't stop laughing.
- has definitely used her handcuffs on u or vice versa. she gets so excited when u pull that shit out.
- ggggg...g-g-gu-....gggggggggguuuunnn ki-
- definitely has fucked u in the uniform. u two probs have had a quickie in the station bathroom on multiple occasions.
bonus round - police!els edit<3 :
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
Note
okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em
hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it
warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......
a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye
“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 
“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 
He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 
“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 
“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 
The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 
You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 
“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 
Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 
“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 
Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 
“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 
And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 
The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  
You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  
It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 
---------------------------------------------------
The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  
He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 
“Can we talk?” 
You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 
“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 
“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"
“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 
The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 
Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 
“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 
“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 
His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 
“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 
“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 
He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  
“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 
“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 
“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  
You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 
“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 
You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 
After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 
“Are you still mad at me?” 
He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 
“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 
“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 
He chuckles. 
“At an entirely different university.” 
“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”
While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 
“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 
“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 
Spencer sighs. 
“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 
You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 
“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.
Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 
“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 
But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.
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verstappen-cult · 2 months
Text
HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16
— 04. THE CLIFFHANGER
PREV. PART | NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]
summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing and a tiny bit of angst because why not.
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TWITTER — JUL 11 & 12, 2023
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INSTAGRAM POST — JUL 15, 2023
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Liked by user98, y/n_gossip and 315,886 others
paddockgossip We have some interesting news about Charles and Y/N relationship! They both were at an event last night, but with two different people and (thanks to our insider!) we know that they didn’t talked or crossed paths, they didn’t even looked at each other! Do we know why? Maybe it was Charles’ plus one, who is, if you’ve been following their relationship, the same girl Charles was seen with back in Austria.
Trouble in paradise? We all saw the pictures of Y/N and her ex-boyfriend Andrew Garfield out and about in London just a few days ago. And now we only have this mess which seems to be following both Charles and Y/N everywhere they go.
Is this the end of a relationship that had only just begun?
view all 1,425 comments
user98 i don’t think they’re together anymore. it didn’t look serious from the beginning
user99 Charles deserves better. This girl was on a date with her ex boyfriend a few days ago, I wouldn’t forgive that so easily.
user01 okay but you don’t know what happens behind closed doors user99 I’m just saying what Charles should do. user02 but you’re not charles leclerc, are you?
user03 i’m a child of divorce
user04 I haven’t even got them over my parents divorce and now this happens
user05 They both are being sooo childish
user06 i prefer him dating his friend than this girl
user07 what friend? user06 the one he was with in Austria, i think she’s an influencer, i’m not sure user08 y/n is WAY better user09 Maybe Charles is the problem. Let’s not do this awful thing between women like you always do when shit happens
user10 I hate gossip pages so much.
user11 NOOO I loved them together 😭
user12 that was such a power couple
Y/N’S iMESSAGE — JUL 15, 2023
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INSTAGRAM STORIES — JUL 17, 2023
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INSTAGRAM POST
📍 PARIS, FRANCE — JUL 25, 2023
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Liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 892,556 others
charles_leclerc A little escapade before flying to Belgium. I haven’t slept in two days, can you see?
view all 7,478 comments
user13 someone teach him how to dress
user14 y/n was doing a good job user13 but then they broke up user15 THEY WHAT
user16 hold on ☝🏻 he’s in france??? in a fashion show?? as in y/n’s walking that fashion show fashion show??
user17 I WAS THINKING THE SAME THING user18 I think you’re onto something
user19 why is he wearing that to a FASHION show
user20 is it true he’s dating an italian influencer?
user21 Charles is dating @/yourusername user22 no they broke up user23 we don’t know that
user24 Y/N’S IN THE LIKES
user25 WAR IS OVER OH MY GOOOD JSHDVDHAJAA
user26 i’m in denial until someone confirms y/n and charles broke up
user27 you and me both user28 charles is attending the same fashion show she’s in. look at her stories!!
📍 PARIS, FRANCE — JUL 25, 2023
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voguemagazine Say hello to our @/yourusername opening this week’s #FashionShow in Paris.
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📍 PARIS, FRANCE — JUL 25, 2023
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paddockgossip Alert, Alert! Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend, Y/N L/N, spotted leaving the Fashion Show Y/N walked in just a few hours ago. They’re currently in Paris, a quick ‘escapade’ as the Monégasque called it before flying all the way to Belgium for the final race before the Summer Break.
Remember that just ten days ago we were telling you how we thought things weren’t good between them and were waiting for a breakup confirmation. We were wrong! Let’s hope things are okay and we can see more of Y/N paddock’s fashion in the future. All the best for them.
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user29 oh god no please
user30 I thought we already got rid of her
user31 i don’t like her, she doesn’t seem nice
user32 Mmh this kinda looks like PR
user33 i thought the same but idk in the pics pop crave shared they look v cozy
user34 some people feel too comfortable judging y/n just because it’s charles.
user35 like grow up girl you’re never gonna date him lol
user36 this comment section didn’t pass the vibe check
user37 charles always dates toxic people
user38 i doesn’t seem serious to me
user39 matching glasses, such a power couple
user40 i don’t like her but they look good together
user41 i hate her sm she’s everywhere 🤢
user42 if you don’t know her just search what happened between her and sebastian stan
user43 there’s a pretty long ass thread on twitter with timelines and all y’all should check it out user44 that relationship was so toxic i’m glad my boy found his way out of there user45 she has said in a lot of interviews that she regrets everything that happened between them and that they’re on good terms now user46 besides they both were so young user45 they blame her when he was the one who cheated on her a hundred times
user47 she’s ben through a lot of toxic relationships i hope this one is different
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TWITTER — JUL 25, 2023
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TAGLIST (bold means i couldn’t tag you) — @leclerc16s. @willowpains. @berrnuu. @minkyungseokie. @1655clean. @sassyheroneckgiant. @nessacarty1. @a1leexxa. @storminacloud. @lovstappen. @littlehoneyfreak. @paintedbypoetry. @miakat9. @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir. @thatoneembarrasingmoment. @lyrasconstellation. @rhythmstars. @c-losur3. @apolloxxivmin. @janeholt3. @lovrsm. @gulphulp. @thecubanator2. @dark-night-sky-99. @ssprayberrythings.
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note: oh my god!! hiii <3 sorry for not posting sooner but a few things happened and… well. there’s just only one chapter left! i can’t believe this is ending. like you don’t know that i had such a good time doing this smau. i’ll probably write an extra part, like a blurb or something about the conversation y/n and charles had if that’s something you’d like to read?! please let me know (it would be posted after the final chapter). 🤍
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causticsunshine · 2 years
Text
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#really gotta go to bed but i realized why i do still relate to fine line more and why it still remains my number 1 harry album#(although harry's house is a very close second don't get me wrong ok it has made me very tender and soft on this day)#and i know i said why earlier but i'm gonna add onto that and that is because: i am unhappy! i am miserable and unaccomplished !!#how can i relate to domestic bliss and self acceptance and love in many different forms when i'm so unhappy like this shit doesn't add up!#not to say fine line is at all about Misery but it is about the in between you know like finding your footing and reflecting on#yourself and your relationship and assessing the good and hard times alike etc etc like we know what it's about#and i feel as if i'm constantly stuck in the in between yk like a wip that just gets started over and over again the second it gets close t#*to being completed so little to no progress is actually being made#(like. all my actual attempts at artwork lmao)#and i want nothing more to be in that happy contented finally comfortable and at peace w myself and (nonexistent) relationship#period in my life but alas i have no money i hate my job i can't finish any piece of art i start for shit because i have awful imposter#syndrome and i am still loveless living with my parents who i am convinced do not like me very much!#i just don't know what to do anymore because i want to get just that much closer to finding a spot of happiness/contentment in my life#and i don't know if or when that'll happen anymore and i've been festering in this mindset for awhile not but sitting down and listening#to someone who is very clearly finally and SO deservedly in that spot i'd love to be in is like. wow i really AM miserable huh#anyway. perhaps i'm just hormonal and feeling a little too tender but perhaps i'm also onto something. not sure yet but def not feeling#great so ! i must sleep now as i have to be up at 4am#sorry for the emo post i'll probably delete it later and good night#alex talks
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goldsainz · 5 months
Text
❝ ALL I NEED IS YOU ❞
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MASTERLIST!
pairing . . . lewis hamilton x reader
◦∘。゚. request . . . “could you do slut! for Lewis? and maybe a combination of angst and fluff?”
◦∘。゚. summary . . . fans hate you for dating their favourite driver, but it all might just be worth it for once.
◦∘。゚. note . . . I’M BACK WITH THE FICS!! i’m not quite sure why i had a creative drought, but i’m glad i’m out of it🙏 alsooo, hope you guys liked the new theme bc i brainstormed for hours about it and i’m actually really liking it
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liked by ynfan1, lewisfan1 and 85,326 others
f1gossip Once again, Y/N Y/L/N is back in the paddock! The unofficial but official girlfriend of Lewis Hamilton has now been present for all of the triple-header and fans have noticed! Now, many aren’t happy that their beloved F1 Superstar is entangled with the model because of her dating tendencies. Will she be at the Las Vegas Grand Prix? Let us know your thoughts! 👀
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lewisfan2 need her far far away from my man
lewisfan3 sick and tired of seeing her appear on my screen🙄
ynfan2 don’t know who this lewis guy is but i’m loving all the y/n content we’re getting!!!
⤷ lewisfan4 and thank god you know nothing of the sport. we don’t want any of her fans ruining it.
lewisfan5 unpopular opinion: i actually like her and lewis together🤷‍♀️
ynfan3 i hope she continues dating lewis just to piss you guys off
ynfan4 SHE LOOKS SO GOOOOOOD
lewisfan6 🤮🤮🤮
lewisfan7 bye not her taking a photo in front of his car
⤷ ynfan5 she’s his gf? why wouldn’t she do that?
⤷ lewisfan7 it’s giving attention wh0re
⤷ ynfan5 or (and hear me out) she’s just a supportive gf!!
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lewishamilton and yourusername posted an instagram story!
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liked by lewishamilton, rosalia.vt and 2,018,376 others
yourusername brasil, eu te amo
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ynfan21 mother is mothering
lewisfan21 STAY AWAY FROM HIM! GET A JOB!
ynfan22 they’re actually so cute
adrianalima Bonitos! 💜
liked by yourusername and 65,274others
lewisfan22 girl, that caption is not for brasil😭
lewisfan23 sick and tired of her appearing in my feed
lewisfan24 can’t wait until lewis leave you!!!!!!
user21 since when are they dating?
⤷ ynfan23 it’s really unclear, but everyone points to this year’s silverstone gp when she went as a mercedes guest!
⤷ user21 and people are still hating on her???
⤷ ynfan23 yeah lmao
lewisfan25 mama y papa
lewisfan26 crazy how just a couple mints ago she was supposedly dating tom brady and now she’s “in love” with lewis… such a slut
⤷ ynfan24 you literally don’t know her. stop insulting people you don’t know.
ynfan25 mourning the loss of my wife rn 💔
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liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt and 2,537,104 others
yourusername it’s raw, it’s real and it’s here!
this interview is extensive, but interviewer was so polite and just the perfect person to be interviewed by, to have my voice told by.
my vogue article will be yours too on the 22nd of november.
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lewishamilton FIA Gala, 2023
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yourusername an honour to be by your side 💜
⤷ lewishamilton The honour is all mine 💜
lewisfan41 THIS SHIT IS SO CUTE OML
lewisfan42 did not expect the hard launch, sir hamilton
roscoelovescoco I love’s my mum’s
liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 201,849 others
ynfan41 my heart literally flew out of my chest when i saw that they were together at the gala
mercedesamgf1 Our second Mercedes royal couple 👑
liked by lewishamilton, yourusername and 174,052 others
lewisfan43 bro you didn’t take the prize home😭
⤷ lewisfan44 he already has the biggest prize with him
⤷ ynfan42 lewis fans got poetic all of a sudden
⤷ ynfan43 lewis fans stopped hating on y/n all of a sudden*
lewifan45 if he’s happy, i’m happy
sebastianvettel Congratulations! Finally the secret is out 😁
⤷ lewishamilton Thank you 🙌
ynfan44 need them both desperately!!!!!
ynfan45 i just know wag pages are having a field day
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translations:
— brasil, eu te amo — brazil, i love you — bonitos — beauties
-ˋˏ *.· taglist . . . @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @toomuchdelusion @goldenalbon @ravisinghs-wife @racingtrail @hobiismyhopeu @celestialpato @lecsainz @kkeels
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bugsmunched · 3 months
Text
"My Slut" - Derek Danforth X Reader
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Summary: A jealous Derek confronts Y/N, one of his mother's employees, about flirting with a bunch of guys at a party when they were supposed to be there to keep him in line.
A/N: This was a little rushed ngl, but I did my best My Jhutch hyperfixation is coming back. So expect more fics, and please remember if you have any ideas please share!
Contents: GN! Reader, drug usage, smoking, drinking, plot? What plot, filthy smut, Dom! Derek, degradation, use of 'slut' and 'bitch', choking, spitting, impact play, face fucking, spoiled brat Derek, no mentions of readers' genitals, hate fucking, no prep, no protection (wrap that shit), dumbification, possessive Derek, jealous Derek
Word Count: 2750
SMUT UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI!!
"I'm not your property, Danforth." you spat, venom lacing your words as you stared at him in a cold, annoyed manner.
"Aren't you?" he asked, raising a brow and looking at you with all the arrogance in the world.
God, he was SO annoying. You couldn't believe the audacity of this sociopathic con artist. "No Derek, contrary to popular belief, I don't fucking belong to you. I don't even work for you remember? Your mother hired me. " You hissed, placing the glass of bourbon that was in your hand onto the table in front of you.
"Well I don't think my mother hired you to flirt with a bunch of men like a little whore now did she?" He asked, taking a long drag of the joint that rested in his hand.
"She hired me to keep an eye on you, Derek. I'm a glorified babysitter, I might as well have a little bit of fun whilst trying to keep you sober. "
"Yeah you don't exactly do a good job of that, now do you? I wonder if my mother knew how poor of a job you were doing. "
"You threatening my job? " You snorted, rolling your eyes in amusement. "You're threatening my job just because I flirted with a couple of guys, how mature of you Danforth. "
"just flirted with a couple of guys?" He asked, raising a brow in amusement. "Honey-"
"Don't." You warned him, not wanting to hear the sickening nickname fall out of his mouth.
"Don't fucking interrupt me, slut. " He growled, his eyes narrowing with anger. " As I was saying before you opened your disgusting mouth- Honey, I don't think palming a guy in the corner counts as 'just flirting.' And the entire party does not count as 'just a couple guys.' You're a slut, admit it. "
Your face turned a bright pink, you hadn't realized that he knew about that. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, the drinks had just hit and one guy kept eyeing you up and down. So, when you noticed that Derek was preoccupied by some other guy talking about crypto or some similar nonsense, you snuck off and made out with the guy in the corner. But you were so deprived, that you had begun palming him desperately like a highschooler at a dance. But before it could escalate to anything more, you heard Derek calling you away, unaware that he had been watching you the entire time, seething with anger.
"I'm not a slut, Derek. If anyone's the slut it's you. You're the one who's hooking up with someone new every time I turn my head. " That really got him going. He placed the burnt-out joint in the ashtray in front of him and stood up, swiftly walking over to you, standing over you.
"You want to say that again?" He challenged, crouching down in front of you and meeting your gaze. When you didn't say anything, he growled and grabbed your chin. "What? Now you've finally decided to shut that big mouth of yours?" his grasp on your chin was harsh, yet his gaze was even harsher. Fire plagued his gaze, and his jaw clenched.
" Let go of me, you sociopath." You snapped, matching his energy.
"You can't talk to me like that. " He huffed, his grip on your chin tightening, leaving red marks on either side of your face.
"I can speak however I damn please, you don't control my paychecks."
"Someone needs to show you how to fucking respect others. " He said as he let go of your face. You rubbed the sore sides of your face, looking up at him with a scowl.
"Someone needs to teach you how to not be such a spoiled brat, you useless fucking-"
Your harsh words were cut off as his hand found itself wrapped around your throat. "shut up." he growled, squeezing the sides of your throat. Your face turned a bright red as you fought back a whimper from the feeling. When you stopped speaking, he smirked, clearly satisfied with the results of his actions. "That's all it takes to shut you up, huh? All the little slut needed was a hand around their throat?" he cooed, squeezing a little harsher.
You tried to speak, but your brain was a little bit fuzzy from the feeling of having a strong hand wrapped around your throat like that. You felt so stupid, so vulnerable, to have been so thrown off by that.
"You really are nothing but a slut, and I don't like that. I can't stand seeing you flirt with other men. You see, I don't have a problem with the fact that you are a slut, I have a problem with the fact that you're not my slut. " He said as malice laced his words.
You gave a little bit of a whine, looking up at him with desperation in your eyes. Your cocky demeanor had completely faded away, as it had changed into something new, something far more desperate and needy. Maybe he was right, maybe you were a slut...and maybe you should be his.
"C'mon baby, say something." he cooed, loosening his grip on your throat for a moment so you could speak. But you were absolutely star-struck at the moment, at a complete loss for words. When you didn't speak, a hand harshly landed a blow across your face, leaving a bright red mark. "I said say something. That wasn't a request, you dumb fuck. "
"Make me- make me yours. " You managed to stutter out, the smack he left on your cheek causing it to sting.
"Oh look, you can speak after all! The dumb slut can speak." He said with feigned amusement in his voice. "And they know their place. " He purred softly as he let go of your throat completely, standing up from his crouched position. " On your knees. And don't make me repeat myself again." He commanded.
You slipped off the couch and fell to your knees in front of him, looking up at him with pitiful, desperate eyes. What was happening to you? As soon as you were on your knees, his pants and boxers were around his ankles, belt resting in his hands, and his surprisingly girthy and pierced cock sprung free, half-hard already from the attention he was giving you. A hand harshly gripped at your hair and tugged you close to him, looping the belt around your neck and pulling it tight, much like a leash.
In one hand he held the belt that was wrapped around your neck, in the other he held his half-hard cock, stroking over the Jacob's ladder piercings. After a few moments, his cock stood at attention, a bead a precum leaking from the tip. He pulled you close via the belt, pushing his leaking tip against your lips. His other hand cupped your cheek, stroking it gently. "Open. " He commanded, and you quickly obeyed.
You parted your lips, which were now glistening with his pre-cum, as he pushed his dick into your mouth. He wasted no time in tugging on the belt, which forced you to take more of him down your throat. The balls of his piercings rubbed strangely against the walls of your throat, but you welcomed the new sensation.
Soon enough, he had forced himself all the way down your throat, balls pressed against your chin. "You really are a slut, huh?" he asked in amusement, amazed at how easily you took him down your throat. "Have you been sucking dicks behind my back? huh?" he asked as he spat on your face, it sliding down, coating your eyelashes in the process. You shook your head, trying to say something in protest, but that just caused you to gag on his cock, spit bubbling from your own mouth and dripping down your chin. It slipped off of your chin and dripped onto the floor. "You're cleaning that up later, fucking bitch. " He remarked, smacking your face lightly.
After a few moments of forcing your nose into the base of his cock, he pulled his hips away, leaving you panting with spit dripping down your face. After giving you a second to breathe, he smirked before slamming back into your mouth, holding the belt tightly in his hand as he began to roughly thrust in and out. His tip kept hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag, which caused more spit to drip down your chin and pool on the floor.
"Fucking bitch, making such a mess." He growled, spitting on your face once again, his hand that was resting on your face going up to your hair, tangling itself in the strands roughly.
He loved the sight below him; you drooling and spitting all over his cock as his spit dripped down your face, his cock pumping in and out of your throat. The sight alone was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he wasn't anywhere near done with you.
Once again he pushed you all the way down his shaft, shoving your nose into the base of his cock. "Choke on it you dumb slut. " he growled softly, watching as you tried to breathe, which caused you to start choking on his dick, more spit bubbling on the corners of your mouth. Once he was satisfied with the mess you made on the floor beneath you, he pushed your head away, leaving you a panting mess once again.
"Looks like we finally found a use for that mouth that isn't bitching and whining, isn't that right, honey?" He cooed, using the belt that was wrapped around your neck to pull you off of the ground, his spare hand resting on your side. " answer me." he growled, his eyes filled with a dangerous lust.
"Y-yes sir." you managed to stutter out, the name for him falling out of your lips far easier than you would like to admit. he smirked at the nickname, his cock twitching in satisfaction.
"Call me that again." He purred softly, the hand resting on your side making its way to your clothes ass, gripping at it harshly.
"S-sir."
He smacked your ass, "Again." he commanded.
"Sir!" You yelped out, whining at the light sting on your clothed ass, imagining how much more that would sting if you were unclothed.
"Good job, slut. Now, undress and bend yourself over that table over there. " He said, pointing to a table that held alcohol and other drugs over in the corner.
You quickly obliged as he let go of the belt. You practically tore off your clothes, rushing over to the table and bending yourself over it, biting your lip. You scolded yourself for being so excited to fuck Derek Danforth, someone that you were hired to keep from fucking random people and doing drugs.
He sauntered his way over to you and pushed your face harshly into the table, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. "Fuck, look at you, so eager for me to fuck you. Your boss' son, bending you over the desk and dicking you down, it's kind of pathetic, really. " He remarked, smacking your ass a few times till both cheeks were bright pink. The smacks caused you to mewl in pleasure, back arching against him slightly.
After prodding your entrance with the swollen and ripping head of his cock, he finally pushed past the barrier and sheathed himself inside of you. He didn't try and go slow, he just shoved himself deep inside of you as quick as he could, a groan escaping his lips. The lack of prep caused the stretch to burn your hole, making you wince and take a few deep, sharp breaths. You weren't used to being so full.
But before you could get used to the feel of being stretched out, he pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back in, causing your body to jolt forward, eyes rolling back slightly at the rough thrust. He repeated that rough thrust a few times, one hand resting on your hip, the other shoving your face into the desk. The harsh thrusts drew long, high pitched whines and moans from your mouth, hands gripping at the table harshly, nails digging into the wood.
"ah-ah! Slo-slow down!" You whined out, your pleading being muffled by the table. He smirked at your pleading, hips speeding up, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the air.
"I don't think I will. " He spoke in an arrogant tone, continuing to thrust his hips forward, burying his cock inside of you. A few moans fell from his lips, the grip on your hip tightening, he was sure to leave a few bruises.
" fu-fuck you." You spat, wincing as a hand collided with your ass harshly once again, a shiver being sent up your spine.
"Watch your fucking tone with me. " He growled softly, continuing to harshly piston his hips into you. His nails dug into your flesh lightly, leaving marks. "you're my little slut, aren't you?" He purred softly.
You moaned in response which caused him to smack your ass once again. " Say it. Say that you're my little slut. Tell me that you're sorry for flirting with other men. "
You opened your mouth to talk, but no words came out, your brain fuzzy from the feeling of being fucked like an animal. "oh, is the poor slut already fucked stupid? You're in for a long night, poor baby. " He mocked you, giving a particularly harsh thrust which caused you to cry out in pleasure. He stilled his hips for a moment, laying a harsh slap to your ass. "Still, I need to hear the words...say that you're my little slut. " He hummed softly, massaging the fat of your ass between his fingers.
"I-I'm yours..."
"You're my what?" he cooed, grinding his hips into you, which caused a long, drawn-out whine to fall from your lips.
"your little slut.."
"C'mon, use all your words..."
"I'm your little slut."
"I'm your little slut - what?" he mocked you, prompting you.
"si-sir. "
"Good job, bitch." He growled as he started up his thrusting once again, pulling nearly all the way out just before slamming right back into your tight hole harshly.
Foul, lewd sounds fell out of both of your lips, Derek's head rolling back slightly as he fucked into you like you were his personal fleshlight. He groped your ass, his nails leaving red marks as he marked his territory. He wanted to make sure that people knew you were his little slut, that you belonged to him. You were his little toy and he was your owner. He leaned forward and started leaving love bites on your neck, both in a way to mark you as his and a way to muffle his moans, which were slowly turning into whimpers as he got closer to his climax.
You, meanwhile, were already in a state of fucked out bliss, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you felt that knot in your stomach tighten. Your knees were becoming weak, and your entire body felt like it was on fire. You tried to warn Derek that you were about to cum, but you couldn't talk, so all you did was whine and smack at the table with your hand, arching your back to make him go deeper.
However, he was lost in his own pleasure and neglected to recognize the signs of you getting close, his thrusts quickening due to his own desperation for a release. After a few more thrusts, you yelped, a few tears rolling down your cheek as you came undone, but he barely even noticed, his growls turning into high-pitched whines as his hips stuttered.
You whined, feeling overstimulated, but soon enough he was coming undone inside of you. Thick ropes began to paint your insides, causing you to whimper at the feeling of being so full. He pulled out, which caused you to gasp at the sudden lack of something being stuffed inside your desperate hole.
He stood up straight and looked at you for a moment before realizing that you had made a mess of your own. He smacked your ass harshly, which caused you to whine out. "Dumb slut, you didn't ask for permission. Looks like... you're going to have to be punished." He murmured. You looked back and realized that he had already gotten hard once again. You were in for a long night.
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amatchinwater · 2 years
Text
I Know What You Want From Me / Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: Song fic of 18 by Anarbor, your parents kick you out when you tell them you can't be with Jason because you're already dating Eddie...except that you aren't. So now you have to go to Eddie after not speaking for years and ask to not only live with him, but pretend to date you too. What could possibly go wrong there?
Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, semi-public sex (they're in the woods), squirting, unprotected sex (reader on pill, but not stated until after), cream pie, choking, spanking, protective reader (Jason gets his shit rocked), angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective Eddie, reader's parents are awful
Words: 9746 (oops?)
a/n: I feel like I've been working on this forever and a day. With the finale, I had to stop because angst wasn't something I could handle just yet. But the fluff and ending makes the angst worth it. Requests are still open.
Master list
Part 2
Not my gif!! Credit to the lovely @msmischief101
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It’s been a long time since you’ve pulled into Forest Hills Trailer Park. A really long fucking time. Part of you wants to turn around, just get on the highway and never look back at this godforsaken town and their prejudiced beliefs. That having money and a pristine lifestyle makes you worth something. It’s bullshit. And you fucking hate it. And you want out. Hell, your bags are already packed in the backseat behind you.
You’re eighteen, legally, if you really wanted to, you could run. Run as far away from not only Hawkins, but Indiana in general. Now that you’re eighteen, you have a sizable trust fund. Your father wanted to rescind your rights to it. Change it to where you’d only see a penny once you were twenty-one. Or worse; married. Somehow your mother convinced him not to do that, that you’d be able to use the money for college. 
You’re not even sure you want to do that either. 
But there was one person in your life who told you that no matter what you did, they’d always stick beside you. While that statement hasn’t held true these last six years or so, it was far from it being his fault. No, you shamefully hold that crown. 
Once you started to rise up the social ladder in school and your father got a big time promotion at work, your parents forced the social debutant bullshit on you. You hated every single second of it. Every one of those dumb parties they dragged you to. The dinners and get-togethers. They all sucked. And everyone there was so vapid and full of themselves, you wanted to scream. 
Now that you’re eighteen and “supposed” to be looking at prestigious colleges for some job you’ll never want, your parents did the worst thing imaginable. They tried to set you up. Quite literally wanted to give you an arranged marriage. God, the look your father gave you like it was supposed to be some wonderful gift you should be grateful for. As if being pawned off to someone like Jason Carver is to be coveted. 
Fuck that. 
So you did something really stupid. Like, really stupid. You told them that you couldn’t be with Jason because you were already with someone else. You’d hoped it would just be enough to make them drop the issue. It wasn’t. They poked and prodded until you gave them a name. You told them the only person in Hawkins you could even remotely think of. 
Eddie Munson. 
The conversation with your parents was pretty short after that. Being told to pack your bags and not come back if you wanted to align yourself with “someone like him.” That if you were grown up enough to make your choices, to go live with him and see how long it lasts, and not to come crying to them when you wind up pregnant. 
You did exactly that. Grabbed everything you felt couldn’t be replaced and left. But for some reason, instead of just driving towards the town limit and getting the fuck out of dodge, you found yourself on your way to the trailer you used to spend a good chunk of your childhood in. 
Because you grew up there. You were once neighbors- something your parents try very hard to forget- and childhood best friends. You used to be on a first name basis with Wayne. And despite what everyone says about him, that he’s a freak or the satanist propaganda, you know Eddie. Knew Eddie. So maybe there was some small part of you that hoped Eddie was still that sweet kid at heart and would let you crash for a few months until graduation and then you could leave Hawkins for good. 
It was a stupid idea from the start. One not fully formulated or even properly processed. 
But here you are, pulling up to the familiar, yet foreign trailer with Eddie’s van parked right out front. And of course it’s pouring rain. The day your life goes to shit wouldn’t be a nice, calm evening. No. When have you ever been that lucky? When is anyone that lucky? 
Turning the engine off, you sit and listen to the rain patter against the roof of your car. Contemplating leaving again. Maybe the real reason you came here was so that you would be convinced to stay. Eddie has never been one to run from his problems. The bloody nose he gave Jason a year ago for taking a swing on him is proof of that. So maybe you really want someone to tell you to man the fuck up and grab life by the balls or some shit. 
Just some strange words that manage to sound inspiring because they’re coming from Eddie’s goofy grin. 
“Fuck it,” you grind your teeth, shoving your door open and stepping out into the storm, wincing when the freezing water sinks into your skin. “Shit, shit, shit,” you jog up to his front door, thankful for the awning over the porch. Not letting yourself be talked out of this, you pound on the door to be heard over Shout at the Devil being blasted from Eddie’s room. 
“Henderson, I already told you-” Eddie’s yelling as he yanks open the front door, “-you’re not Henderson.” 
“No,” you shiver, hands rubbing your arms. How did you possibly get drenched in the ten steps it took you to get from the car to his door? Eddie’s features are guarded and you can’t help but shiver again. From the cold or his stare, you’re not really sure. Maybe you should just leave. The highway is sounding more and more tempting. “I should just-” you trail off, gesturing back towards your car.
Eddie finally takes a look at your state and his eyes widen, furrowed eyebrows losing their tension, “no, come in,” he opens the door further. “I-I’ll get you a towel,” Eddie runs off. 
Shaky bones carry you over the threshold, goosebumps only getting angrier at the warmth of the trailer. It looks exactly like it did the last time you were here. Except maybe a few more hats have joined the collection on the wall. Eddie comes back with two towels, placing one on the couch and offering you the other. “Thanks,” you take it, toweling your hair before wrapping it around your shoulders, sitting on the one he’d set down for you. “I’m sorry to just barge in like this,” your eyes begin to burn with tears. 
“What happened? Are you okay?” Eddie sits beside you and you can practically feel his warmth radiating off of him. That's how cold you are. 
“I did something really stupid,” you admit, shaking your head, wanting to curl up in a hole. “My parents want to hand me over to Jason. Pretty bow and everything,” you choke out a laugh. “Like I’m some prized trophy wife or some shit.” 
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie nearly shouts. You laugh sarcastically, nodding your head. His face twists, “but hang on, that’s a stupid thing they did. What stupid thing did you do?”
You fiddle with the fraying corner of the towel, dropping your gaze to your lap, “I told them that I couldn’t be with Jason.”
“That doesn’t seem stu-”
“Because I’m in a relationship with you,” you pull your head back up, meeting deer in the headlight brown eyes and a slack jaw. Nerves make your tongue ramble, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I told them that. You were the first person that came to mind when they wouldn’t stop asking me who could be more important than Jason. And I just- I didn’t know what to do. So I just thought- I don’t know what I thought. But w-we used to be best friends once, I-”
“Yeah, once,” Eddie tongue in cheek scoffs, “then you got popular and I didn’t matter anymore. So, what? You thought you would just come here and I would live up to this fantasy relationship? Because it’s you?”
Your head drops again, “they told me if I wanted to be with you that badly that I should go live with you. That they didn’t recognize their daughter anymore. They kicked me out, or maybe I just ran. I don’t know, Eddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into this.” Tears spill from your eyes, when you look back up at him, “I’ll just get back in the car and leave town like I should’ve done in the first place. I’m sorry,” you take the towel off your shoulders and place it in his lap, getting up off the couch. 
You make it all of three steps until Eddie’s hand wraps around your wrist, “wait.” He sighs as you turn to face him. “Let me get this straight, you told your parents you were dating me because I was the only person you could think of that was better than Jason?” 
Rolling your eyes, you scoff, “well, duh.” It might have been instinct that made you say it, doesn’t make it any less true. Jason doesn’t hold a candle to Eddie in any situation. Not to you. Years of separation be damned. 
“And you now have nowhere to live?” You shake your head no. Eddie sighs again, “I’ll do it.” 
“W-what?” You ask. Because surely you heard him wrong. Eddie doesn’t owe you a fucking thing. “What do you mean you’ll do it?” 
“I’ll help you keep this facade that we’re dating for the sake of your parents and Jason,” he sneers at the name. “Move in here with me, Wayne won’t mind. He still asks about you from time to time, I’m sure he’d love the idea. And then, when you graduate, you’re free to do whatever you want.”
Blinking rapidly, you nearly stumble backwards. Shocked that Eddie would do this. “Why?”
“Your parents are assholes,” Eddie laughs and you do too. He’s far from wrong. “Pissing them off by pretending to date you and giving you a safe place to live? Fuck yeah, I’ll do it. Besides, I’m sure if they told you about it, Jason already knows. Which means I get to make that asshole jealous. It’s a win-win.” He laughs again, softer this time along with his smile. “And you’re right. We were best friends once, maybe we could be again.” 
“I really don’t give a fuck what Jason or my parents think, Eddie. I’m just sick of them thinking that they can control me,” you tell him. “But if giving them the finger is enough incentive for you, then I appreciate it. For what it’s worth, I really miss having you as my best friend.” 
“Me too,” he smiles, pulling you into a hug. “How about you go take a shower and I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Booze free this time,” Eddie chuckles.
You laugh, remembering when you were younger and neither of you thought Wayne would notice the vodka two twelve year olds put in their drinks. “Honestly, I probably wouldn’t mind it this time around,” you pull away. 
“Comin' right up,” Eddie grins, heading into the kitchen while you go down the hallway. 
Stopping at the bathroom you poke your head around the corner, “hey, Eds.” He stops humming, milk hoovering the pot, quirking an eyebrow at you. “Thank you,” you smile, tucking into the bathroom to shower off before he can answer. 
At school the next day, you’re not really sure what to expect. Eddie drove you in his van and you were given more than a few looks from people you don’t even know. Which were thankfully easy enough to ignore. Somehow you’re also lucky enough that all of your classes before lunch didn’t have a single one of your “friends” either. Friends meaning Jason’s friends who were nice to you because you had money and a pretty face. 
But your actual lunch period? Practically the entire basketball team shared the same block as you. And the second you walk out of the lunch line, Jason immediately finds you. You’re wearing darker clothes and have certainly kept your head down. How the fuck did he find you so fast? 
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he smiles with too much teeth. Voice so sweet it’s sickening. 
“Should’ve hid better,” you mumble, clutching your tray to your chest to keep a barrier between the two of you. “Did you need something?” You ask, eyes scanning the room to find literally anyone you could run to to save you from this. You find Eddie’s friends from Hellfire all around the table, but no sign of Eddie himself. You know their names thanks to Eddie telling you about them last night. But you don’t really think you can just go up to them for help. 
“Well, I was talking to your parents the other day,” he pushes his hands farther into his letterman jacket pockets, ducking his head to appear coy. “I was hoping you’d like to go on a date with-”
An arm snakes around your waist and you nearly jump out of your skin, until you hear, “there you are, babe.” Eddie curls you close to him, kissing the side of your head, “you ready to go sit?” 
You turn to him with a grateful smile, ready to answer, but someone else’s words come out. 
“What the fuck is this?” Jason snaps. 
“I’m sure you know Eddie,” you smile sweetly, fighting the eye roll at the jock before you. “My boyfriend,” you state, loving the way Jason’s eyes are ready to bulge out of his head. Eddie chuckles smugly beside you, his grip tightening only just. You’re actually glad he’s getting something out of this too. Even if it’s just shoving it in Jason’s face. Makes it feel like you’re not using him.
“I thought they were joking!” Jason seethes, “you’re seriously with this freak? You chose him over me? A freak?” 
“Eds, could you hold this please?” You extend your tray towards him, which he takes with a confused expression. “Thanks,” you kiss his cheek, turning your attention back to the blonde. “One, no, it’s not a fucking joke. Two, he’s not a freak. And three,” you slap Jason right across the cheek with a resounding crack, silencing the cafeteria. “If I hear you say some shit like that about him again, you’ll be lucky a slap is all you get. Fuck off, Jason.” 
“Holy shit,” Eddie sputters a laugh, “that was fucking awesome!” Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, Eddie walks you towards the Hellfire table, neither of you caring about the grumbling jock behind you. Or the hushed chatter that’s fallen over the cafeteria. “And here I thought I was the one coming to your rescue,” he teases, placing your tray on the table surrounded by his wide eyed friends. “Come here,” Eddie sits down, his arms locking around your waist to pull you into his lap. “Thank you.”
“I’m your girlfriend, Eddie,” you remind him. Though it’s just for show, it doesn't mean that you’re not going to act the way a proper girlfriend should. Defending your boyfriend from an asshole definitely fits the bill. “I’m not going to stand by and let someone talk about you like that.” 
“So I definitely heard that right?” Dustin, if you remember correctly, stares at you two. “You two are dating? Since when?” He shrieks. 
You freeze for a second, you hadn’t thought that through. 
“For a few months now,” Eddie offers, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on your waist. “Her parents are pretty strict," he rests his chin on your shoulder, humming in contemplation, "so we’ve been keeping it quiet for a bit. But, she was ready to go public with it.” 
“Slapping Carver in front of the whole cafeteria is pretty public,” Jeff laughs, “and pretty sick!” He offers his fist to you. 
You can’t help but laugh, feeling welcome at their table as you reciprocate the fist bump. It’s actually really nice. 
“My girl doesn’t mess around,” Eddie turns, kissing your neck. 
Maybe you two should’ve gone over some boundaries. Because that felt a lot better than it should’ve and you two aren’t even technically together. But then you remember that everyone is supposed to believe this so that Jason and your parents leave you alone. If even anyone suspects it’s not and word gets out that this isn’t real- you shiver at the very thought. And the way Eddie said ‘my girl’ sent a whole different kind of tremor down your spine. 
What have you gotten yourself into?
Somehow you managed to survive the first two weeks of publicly “dating” Eddie. Jason for the most part has left you alone and you haven’t seen or heard from your parents either. It’s so freeing. It makes you wish that you had stuck to your guns when you guys had moved out of the trailer park and kept Eddie in your life. Even listening to them and doing everything they wanted, they still turned around and did the worst thing imaginable. So what else could they have really done if you’d stuck by Eddie’s side the whole time? 
It’s too late to know now, but at least you can make up for the lost time by being here now. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind it. The dinners you share while Wayne is at work. The hasty breakfasts the three of you share in the mornings before school. The weekends though, the weekends are your favorite. Because unless Corroded Coffin has a gig, you and Eddie just hang out at the trailer together. 
“What did you wanna do today?” You ask, flopping down on the couch beside Eddie and throwing your legs on his lap. 
Rubbing your exposed calves, he purses his lips, “I was thinking I should probably take you on a date.” Eddie leans his head on the backrest of the couch to look at you. “You’ve been living here for two weeks now. While it’s all good and well that we’ve been annoying the living hell out of Jason at school, you know how people in this town love to gossip.” 
“Okay,” you draw out the word, furrowing your brows. Not really understanding why Eddie is willingly wanting to be with you romantically outside of school. That would make this feel real. You’d definitely feel like you were using him if you did that. 
“If people see us walking around town together, I’m sure word would get back to your parents.” Eddie pats your leg, “Jason isn’t the only one we’re supposed to be convincing, right?” 
He’s got a point. If your parents get a whiff of this relationship’s fallacies, they’ll drag you back home kicking and screaming. “What’d you have in mind?” You ask, warming up to the idea quickly. 
“There’s a double-feature of Nightmare on Elm Street at the theater tonight,” he shrugs, tracing shapeless designs on your skin. “We could do that and then walk around town with ice cream or some shit. That’s a couple-y thing to do, right?” 
You smile brightly, basking in his shyness. “That sounds really nice, Eds,’ you nudge him with your foot. “Most girls would swoon over a date like that. Well, they’d fight for some romantic movie. But I’m so down for Freddy. When does it start?” 
“About an hour.” 
“I’ll go get ready!” You hop up from the couch, practically running out of the living room, leaving Eddie chuckling on the couch. 
“Thank you,” you hear Eddie say, grabbing your ice cream cones from the girl behind the window of the cute little ice cream shop in town. “M’Lady,” he offers you your chocolate peanut butter scoops, holding his now free hand out for you to hold while you walk back to the van. He’d left it parked by the theater so you could have the whole ‘experience’ of a date. Eddie is just as serious as you are about making this seem real.
He’d even apologized to you for the neck kiss and you sitting in his lap. Explaining to you that he’s a pretty tactile person, that he’s only acting how he would if he was actually dating someone. He was adamant in you telling him if he makes you uncomfortable- he doesn't. Your heart throbbed painfully in your chest that you’re keeping some girl from being in an amazing relationship with such a sweet guy. Even more so when there’s an even worse pang at the thought that you don’t have this for real for yourself either. That this thing you have going with Eddie is fake. 
There’s this small part of you wondering if this could be real. 
“Thanks,” you smile, taking his hand, licking the creamy goodness. Eddie laughs a little at you while you’re walking and eating your desserts. “What?” You ask, licking your lips. 
“You got a little-” Eddie gestures towards your face. A group of girls walk past you arm in arm and Eddie smiles, “here, let me.” He leans in and kisses you, tongue brushing along your bottom lip for the smallest of seconds. Enough to send a shiver down your spine that certainly can’t be explained by the ice cream when his mouth is so warm. “Better,” he grins again, dragging his thumb from the corner of your mouth. 
There’s a blush violently burning your cheeks as you blink rapidly. You don’t even know what to say, so you turn your head, biting away a smile and reclaiming his hand to walk down the road again. “Thank you for tonight,” you say, tossing your napkin in the trash as you pass it. “It-” you pause, thinking you heard someone call your name. Shaking it off you try again, “it was really nice. So, thank you.” 
“Of course,” he drops your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. Kissing the side of your head, Eddie says, “I’m glad you had a good time. Enough people are out tonight so-”
“Y/N!” 
You definitely heard it that time. Eddie did too. Whipping around, you see your parents stalking their way towards the two of you. Speak of the devil, right? “Fuck,” you curse under your breath, anxiety stowing only just at the protective way Eddie tightens his hold around you. 
“Say the word and we run, okay?” He whispers in your ear, "I've got you." 
All you can do is nod as your parents come to a halt in front of you. Your father barely even looking at you, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Your mom on the other hand can’t decide who to set her daggers for eyes on, you or Eddie. 
“Mrs-”
“Don’t.” Your mother holds her finger up at him, “you don’t get to talk.”
“Excuse me?” You sputter out.
“And you,” she sets her fury on you now, “it’s time for you to come home young lady. Enough playing house with him,” you mom can’t even say his name, yet the word holds the same amount of venom. “This isn’t you. Please, just come home and all will be forgiven.” 
Anger boils inside of you. Not asking how you are or caring if you’re happy. Just more of them telling you that you’re ‘not yourself’ and you’re so over it. “Fuck that,” you snap. “I’m not going anywhere with you. My home is with Eddie. Yeah, he has a name, mom,” you lace the word with as much disdain as she’d offered him. Shocking her to her core not only from your language, but your behavior. Good. You finally feel like yourself.
“Then we’ll cut you off,” your dad’s stern voice cuts in. “See how long it takes you to come crawling back with no money.” 
“First of all,” you square your shoulders, “both Eddie and Wayne make money. Second,” you chuckle dryly, “you’re really going to love this. I went to the bank. I’m eighteen now in case you forgot. I transferred everything into my own account. That money is mine. But if it means more to you than your own daughter, I’ll gladly give it back. I can very easily get a job. I don’t need anything from you.” 
Your father puffs his chest, “listen here-”
“No, I think it’s time you listen,” Eddie cuts him off. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with her or how she chooses to live her life. She is fucking incredible! And there's definitely no thanks to you fucking assholes. She’s an adult and capable of making her own decisions. And unlike you, I’d never hurt her or force her to do something she doesn’t want to. You want to stay with me, right?” He looks over at you.
It’s rhetorical, you're almost certain. But you answer it anyway, “absolutely.” 
“There is it,” Eddie grins widely, opening his arms at your parents. “She’s made her choice.”
“Let’s get out of here,” you pull gently on Eddie’s jacket, trying to coax him away. Eddie death glares at your father, but starts moving with you, only turning once you’ve yanked a little harder. 
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Your father snaps, his hand grabbing your arm tight enough to hurt. 
You whip your head around to face him, seething, “let go of me.” Eddie looks furious, ready to punch him in the face and honestly, you’d probably let him. But that’s more of a scene than you’re willing to cause right now. You won’t let Eddie get in trouble over you. When your dad makes no move to let go of you, you say, “let me go or I’ll scream.” 
He drops your arm as though it’d burned him, whispering your name with hurt eyes. 
“Come on, princess,” Eddie’s arm curls back around your shoulders, keeping you close. No longer face to face with your parents, your chest tightens and your eyes burn. Not because you miss them, but all of your emotions have boiled over, demanding release through tears. “Wait just a minute more,” Eddie rubs his nose in your hair, “don’t give them the satisfaction.” He opens the passenger door for you and you crawl inside. 
The second he’s settled in his seat, the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry they said that to you,” you sob, chest constricting. 
“Why are you apologizing to me?” He stares at you wide eyed, speaking softly. “I should’ve punched him in the face for what he said to you, are you kidding?” Eddie reaches over, cupping your face and wiping your tears with his thumbs. “No one should talk about you like that. Especially not your parents.” 
“Can we just go home please?” You ask, hoping sheer willpower will make your tears cease. Your eyes already feel sore. 
“Of course,” he rubs your cheeks again, leaning closer to kiss your forehead. “Here,” Eddie pulls his leather jacket off, handing it to you, “you’re shaking.” 
You smile softly, sliding your arms through the sleeves, the scent of Eddie so close calming you down enough that the tears well up, but don’t fall. It’s one thing to defend Eddie from some dickhead jock like Jason. Watching him stand up for you to your own parents, treating you vastly better than they ever have? Heartwarming doesn’t even come close.
“Do you need anything?” Eddie asks after you’ve showered and are just sitting up in bed, he’s changed into sweats now and a faded Metallica shirt. 
“Not unless you have something that can make my mind be quiet long enough to let me sleep,” you answer, curling your legs to your chest and holding them. 
Eddie purses his lips, “I could roll us a joint,” he offers. “I usually smoke before going to sleep. It could help. Only if you want to.” 
“I’ve never smoked before,” you whisper, embarrassed by the fact that you’re ‘dating’ a drug dealer, yet have never done any yourself. “But I trust you,” you try to smile, but it falls flat. Still a little too upset over earlier. “I’m willing to try if you think it will help.” 
“Best sleep you’ve had in a while,” Eddie smiles, walking over to his dresser, grabbing a wooden box from the drawer. “Are you sure?” He asks one more time, sitting down beside you, “I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you or anything.” 
“You’re not,” your smile is genuine this time, “I’m sure.” You stare at his fingers while Eddie pinches the weed into the thin paper. If you weren’t so upset, your brain would probably short circuit at the way his tongue glides along the edge. That shouldn’t be allowed to look like that. 
After he takes two puffs of his own, he hands the joint to you, blowing the smoke out. “You might want to take small hits,” Eddie suggests when you bring the rolled paper to your lips. “Small hits,” he repeats, hopping up from the bed, “I’m gonna get us a drink real quick. Small,” Eddie enunciates. 
You don’t really know what’s considered a small hit, so you inhale maybe halfway, doing your best to hold the smoke in your lungs before letting it out. A cough bubbles in your chest that burns nearly as much as the weed. Eddie comes back just in time with a can of soda for you. Cracking it open with a fond smile on his lips, he tosses some snacks on the bed beside you. “Not as bad as I thought,” you say after taking a sip. You take another hit, handing it back to Eddie once he’s seated. 
“Are you going to be okay?” He asks, squinting around the smoke trying to go in his eyes. 
With a heavy sigh, you prop yourself on the wall beside the bed, “I think so? I’m not even sure why I cried to be honest. They suck and I don’t know why I expected them to react any differently than that. I’m more angry about the way they treated you.” You take the joint back from him, Eddie scooting over until your thighs and arms are pressed together. Pulling the smoke into your lungs, you appreciate it not burning as badly as the first time around. Enough to take a bigger hit, “this is definitely helping. So are you,” you whisper. 
Eddie nudges you with his arm, “happy to help. You’re my best friend and I’m always going to be here to take care of you. Until you get sick of me that is,” he teases.
Laughter bubbles in your chest, your cheeks hurting from how much you're smiling. Whether that’s the weed or just Eddie in general doesn’t really matter to you. “Aww,” you coo, absolutely certain that your newfound confidence is from the drug, “I don’t think I could get sick of you, Eddie.” You tell him, playing with a lock of his hair, surprised when he doesn’t tell you to stop. “I’m really grateful for everything you’re doing. And I meant it, I don’t expect you and Wayne to take care of me for free. I’ll get a job if it comes down to it.” 
“Please,” he snickers, handing the roach to you to finish off, “Wayne is overjoyed that you’re here.” Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulder and you tuck your head into his neck. “If there was mention of you leaving, he’d probably pay you to stay. He really did miss having you around. I think he secretly always wanted a daughter.” He takes the almost burnt paper and places it in the ashtray by the bed. 
“But he got the metal head outcast with a heart of gold instead,” you smile though he can’t see it. “Just-” you huff a small breath, “thank you, Eddie. For everything.” 
Eddie kisses the side of your head, “of course, princess.” Too high to care, you giggle at the name shooting warmth throughout your system, but it’s broken off with a loud yawn. “Looks like I’ve done my job,” he chuckles softly, “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
You lay down on the pillow, pulling the blanket over you, but when Eddie tries to get up, you reach out and grab his hand. “Eddie?” 
“Yeah?” He whispers, soft eyes looking over your tired face. 
“Could you-” you swallow the barrier in your throat in the form of nerves. “Will you stay with me? I don’t really want to be alone right now,” your voice barely above a whisper. 
Eddie smiles softly, his thumb brushing along your knuckles, “yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He lets go of your hand so you can move over to give him some room to lay down beside you. The moment his back touches the bed, you curl up to him, resting your head on his chest. A contented sigh sounding off listening to his heartbeat in your ear, along with a dopey smile on your face. “Better?” He teases, though his arms wrap around you, one hand rubbing your back while the other plays with your hair. 
“Thank you,” you mumble, already falling asleep. 
Controlling your emotions seems to get harder and harder the longer this plays out. Having Eddie back in your life is honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to you. And you couldn’t be more grateful for him. Not just for having him as your best friend again. But over the last month and half, your heart thought it would be a really good idea to evacuate your chest and take home inside his. Graduation was supposed to be the light at the end of the tunnel. Now it just seems like an ominous deadline.
The day you lose Eddie. 
You’re far from ready for that. In fact, being with Eddie, actually being with Eddie, doesn’t seem like all that bad of an idea. But this was supposed to be temporary, even for him. How in the hell are you supposed to propose that? It’s not like Eddie has shown you any hint that he’d want this to be anything but an act. At home, he’s just your friend. Aside from getting high together, he sleeps on the couch so that you can have the bed. 
What you should be focusing on is the book in your hands while the group plays through their session. But your eyes keep trailing back to the head of the table. Eddie, Dungeon Master himself, sitting on his throne while having the time of his life. He truly is a novelty to watch like this. Carefree and enjoying himself. It’s amazing. 
“NO!” Dustin yells, startling Pet Semetery right out of your hands. 
Usually you’re better at not jumping from their antics, but the teen does not sound happy. Meanwhile Eddie is cackling and knocks a piece off the board. Flicking your eyes around the table, you notice it was the last piece standing aside from the one indicating the monster the group had been fighting. They lost. 
“Another ruthless, unbeatable campaign?” You muse, looking at your thrilled ‘boyfriend’ while everyone gathers their things to leave.
“Always, princess,” Eddie bounds over to you, leaning on the armrests of your chair, “always.” The doors close, leaving you two alone. “Don’t act like you didn’t help.” 
Narrowing your eyes playfully, you look up at him, “yeah, I thought they’d at least have a chance though.” 
“You’re far too devious for anyone to stand a chance,” Eddie closes the distance and kisses you. 
Instinct and pure want for him, you kiss back for a moment. Pulling away with immense effort, speaking with a small voice, “no one’s here, Eds,” you whisper. “You don’t have to act like you want to kiss me,” you say, trying to gauge how he might feel about the situation. He just kissed you after you both heard the doors close. But you also don’t want to get your hopes up too high either. That there could be a reality where Eddie wants to be with you for real too. 
“Yeah,” he clears his throat, his face unreadable, “you’re right. Sorry,” he clears his throat again, “let’s go home.” 
When you grab your book and stand up, Eddie heads for the door, keeping a step or two of distance between you. Is this just how he would act if you guys weren’t pretending to be together? Because when you’re alone, he’s not this cold. Silent. Or did what you say upset him?
Even when you make it to his van and he opens the door for you and you mutter, “thanks,” all Eddie does is offer a pinched smile. 
His silence continues the entire drive home. Eddie doesn’t even sing along to the music he plays. Nor does he drum his hands on the steering wheel. It’s putting you on edge and you want to say something so badly. But you also don’t want to risk actually pissing him off either. So, you follow his lead. Not saying a word while he drives you both home. 
Things don’t get much brighter from then on either. Eddie follows you into the bedroom, grabs his acoustic guitar, and goes right back into the living room. You are absolutely not going to sit in bed and cry about change in behavior. Not at all. You’re going to do it in the shower so there’s no chance of Eddie hearing you, like a smart person. 
Smart, right. 
If you were so smart you’d tell Eddie how you really feel. 
“Are you coming to band practice today?” Eddie asks you while you’re putting some mascara on in the bathroom. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” he scratches the back of his head, “the guys do love it when you come though.” 
“Just the guys?” The teased question spills from your lips before you’d even had a chance to filter them out. But it’s out in the air now.
Eddie grins for the smallest of seconds, “I like when you watch us too. You actually give us honest opinions. Will you come?” 
“Can you give me two more minutes?” You ask, waving the mascara brush around, “I’m almost done.” 
“Take your time,” he smiles, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, “I’ll be out in the van.” 
Quickly, you finish your makeup and go back into the room to get your shoes on. Not wanting to wear a bra, you find one of Eddie’s hoodies and throw it on over your thin shirt. You’ve never seen him wear it, but his spicy cologne rests on the fabric. You allow yourself a moment to bring to sleeves that barely let your fingers peek out of it to your nose to breathe him in. The cologne, the smoke, the very essence of Eddie. Pretending that his arms are wrapped around you instead of his clothes. 
Not wanting to take too long, you snatch the book off the bed and run out the trailer to meet Eddie in the van. 
You sit through the covers of Iron Maiden and Motley Crue while you read your book. They’re actually really good and you do enjoy listening to them. It’s always nice to see Eddie in his element. Happy and perfectly himself. It isn’t until he mentions something about playing a new one that you start to pay attention a little more. It’s different from what they usually play, and has to be an original because you don’t recognize it either and can’t imagine any other voice than Eddie’s singing it. 
Then the chorus hits, and they have your full attention.
“So if you wanna piss off your parents, date me to scare them, show them you’re all grown up,” Eddie sings, his words the night you ran to him echoing in your head alongside the lyrics. “If long hair and tattoos are what attract you, baby, then you’re in luck.” 
Eddie wrote a song about you. Eddie wrote a fucking song about you! But your eyebrows furrow, because it doesn’t sound all that nice, to be honest. Like he’s letting his frustration out through it. You told him you didn’t care about what your parents thought, assuming that was just the incentive for him going through with this.
“You know, I’m broke, so you pulled out your Daddy’s card,” he continues with the song. The memory of you two grocery shopping together flickering in your brain. 
You had wanted to make dinner for him one night as a thank you, but couldn’t find much in his kitchen. He’d told you Wayne didn’t get paid until the weekend and that all his money from dealing went to take out. You promptly dragged him to the store and bought enough food to stock the entire kitchen. Yes, you even made sure he- and you when you chose to partake- had plenty of munchies around too. 
“Should’ve seen this coming from a mile away,” Eddie hasn’t looked at you once the entire time he sings. The rest of the guys just seem to be jamming out. Except Gareth, his face starts to twist, something mixed with confusion and understanding, his drumsticks almost falter. “I’ll play your game. I know what you want from me.” 
But this- this isn’t a game to you. Eddie isn’t a game to you. In its bones, it’s a great song. But your eyes are burning. Blurring with tears as the song goes on. Every lyric a knife to your heart. 
“And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me,” Eddie finally looks at you as a tear falls from your eye. You quickly wipe it away, seeing the same pain reflected in his big, brown eyes. “And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me. You wanna piss off your parents, baby. Piss off your parents, that’s alright with me.” 
The song ends and you hastily wipe the rest of your tears away, ducking your head back into your book so the rest of the guys don’t notice them. It’s bad enough that Eddie saw them. You knew you should’ve said something to him last night when he kissed you. You fucking knew it. And now you’ve hurt him. Hurt Eddie enough that he wrote a song to express himself. You feel like the biggest jerk there is. 
Something told you that you needed to drive yourself to school today. Eddie didn’t question it. You guys had another silent night at home. Didn’t talk about the song or confess your love to him. But you did decide that you will be doing that today. You just needed to have a moment to sort the words in your head into cohesive sentences. 
Then lunch rolled around and Eddie mentioned he’d be meeting Jason in the woods after school to sell to him. That sounded really fucking weird to you, he just waved off your concerns. But you also heard about Chrissy buying from Eddie too, so you didn’t think anything of it if he didn’t either. It wasn’t until you were walking to your last class that you happened to pass Jason in the halls talking to his friends about how they were going to jump Eddie when they met up that it all made sense. 
Why you wanted to bring your car. Why the whole concept of Jason buying drugs didn’t sit right with you. You skipped your last class to wait near the spot they’d meet. Your baseball bat sitting in your passenger seat. You’re not about to just let Jason hurt Eddie. But you’re also not an idiot. You watch from your hiding spot while Eddie sits on the bench waiting for the unknown threat to show up. 
He can take care of himself against Jason, that’s been proven. But you don’t want to see what would happen if it was three or more guys. When Jason first shows up with three other guys whose names you could care less to remember, your nerves light up. Eddie’s too because he rises from the picnic bench with his arms raised. Grabbing your bat, you get out of the car, careful to stay out of view. 
Inching closer, Jason’s voice finally makes it through, “she’d never actually want to be with a freak like you. No way. She wants to be with me, just like her parents want her to. Maybe if you let her go, we won’t hurt you.” 
Yeah, fuck that. Clenching your hand around the bat, you step into view, “back off, Carver,” you command. Swaying the wood back and forth. “I warned you once already.” 
“Princess,” Eddie warns, but you don’t want to hear it. He might have pieced together why Jason is here, but you’re not backing down. Never again. Not since the moment you stepped foot in his trailer what feels like ages ago.
“Can’t you see he’s corrupting you? Just come with me so that I can take care of you,” Jason yells back, looking honest to god perplexed. “This isn’t you. He’s messing with your head.” 
“He’s letting me live!” You shout, tired of everyone trying to tell you what’s best for you. Like you’re incapable of figuring that out for yourself. One thing’s for certain, it isn’t fucking Jason. And it isn’t your fucking parents either. “He takes care of me better than anyone else ever has! Eddie makes me happy!” 
“Aww, princess,” Eddie coos softly, making your heart swell. 
“Don’t make me say it again, Carver,” you swing the back at your side again.
“Grab him!” Jason snaps and two of the guys grab each of Eddie’s arms, pinning them behind his back. You hadn’t even noticed they were getting closer to him, you were so focused on making sure Jason didn’t do something stupid. Eddie struggles in their grip, loosening their hold, only to be forced still. 
Looks like Jason did do something stupid afterall. “I warned you, Jason,” you spit, swinging the bat, hitting him in the face with a satisfying thwack. He stumbles to the dirt, clutching his split, bleeding cheek. The remaining jock, not holding Eddie, helps Jason to his feet. Whipping your head to the others, “let. Him. Go,” you growl while Eddie stares at you with literal heart eyes. The boys keep their hold, flicking their gaze to their captain who's whining. Good. “Fine,” you huff, swinging the bat again, connecting with one of their legs. 
Eddie stumbles as they release him, the one you’d hit falling to the forest floor, yelling in pain. His partner in crime helps him up and you aim your bat again, a crystal clear warning. One that even Jason pays attention to and all four jocks limp away. Once they’re out of view, the bat thumps to the ground and you face Eddie. 
“Are you crazy?” He asks, pulling you close, staring in your eyes waiting for an answer.
“Don’t ever tell me again that I don’t love you, Eddie Munson, do you understand me,” you rush out, crashing your lips to his. A soft moan combined with an absolute sigh of relief pushes past your lips when he holds you tighter, pulls you even closer, and returns the kiss. 
“Why would you do that?” He breaks the kiss, holding you by the small of your back. “Where did you even get a bat from?” 
“That dick led you out here just to jump you. I heard him in the halls. I wasn’t going to just let him,” you roll your eyes, brushing his bangs from his eyes. “I told you it felt weird.” 
“And the bat?” Eddie repeats, looking where it's laying on the ground. 
“I’m a girl in a small town,” you state like it should be obvious. “It’s called self defense.” 
He snorts, “hot.” You playfully punch his chest, making him laugh. He quickly grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss our knuckles. “So, I make you happy, huh?” Eddie grins slyly, cocking an eyebrow at you. 
“Very,” you smile back, leaning in to kiss him again. Hard. Pressing into him until he’s backed against a tree, groaning into your mouth. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for weeks,” you admit, pulling at his bottom lip with your teeth. Lovingly swiping it with your tongue at his hiss from the action. 
Suddenly your back is against the tree and Eddie’s hips are digging into yours, the bulge in his jeans leaving nothing to the imagination as to whether or not he’s believing and enjoying your words. “I told you I wanted to marry you when we were kids,” he rasps in the small space between your mouths. “You coming to me soaked and asking for help, even as a ploy I’d accept it if it meant you being in my life again. I never stopped wanting you, princess. Ever.” 
“Good,” you reply, claiming his mouth again, Eddie’s hands gripping your hips. You moan when he kisses down your neck, biting at the crook and your eyes roll back. “Eddie,” you whine, trying to spread your legs for more friction. He shifts, his thigh pressing between your legs, rubbing beautifully against your clothed pussy. It’s not enough and you whine again, “Eddie, please.” Every pent up feeling you’ve had for the last month ready to burst at the seams. 
He chuckles against what’s surely a purple mark on your neck, “right here?” Eddie teases, licking your abused flesh, nipping his way back up. “Can’t let me take you home first?”
“No,” you say once his blown, brown eyes fall on your face, “I can’t. I need you, Eddie, please,” you gasp. Breathing becomes harder the longer his thigh digs into you, sparking flames deep in your core. 
“Right here in the woods, huh?” He asks, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “Maybe Jason was right,” Eddie chuckles, cupping you where it aches, “maybe I did corrupt you.” 
“Good,” you moan, grinding against his hand, “I’m yours to corrupt, Eddie.”
Eddie’s eyes darken further, pupils widening and getting hazy, “that’s my girl.” His fingers undo your button and zipper before yanking you to him, pulling you back towards the picnic table. Pushing you down face first onto the wooden surface, he drags your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. “Look at you,” he tries to coo, but it’s so full of lust that it’s raspy and thick, “so wet for me already, princess.” Eddie kisses your spine, making you shiver, “last chance,” his hands rub your ass. 
“Please,” you croak, eyes burning, needing him inside of you right now. Groaning a guttural, “fuck,” when his tongue dips inside your dripping cunt. “Eddie,” you gasp, him eating you out better than you’ve ever felt before. The long licks and the way he pushes his tongue as far as it will go to tease at your clit. It’s intoxicating and before you can beg for more, two fingers push inside you and you keen. Hips bucking at the pressure against the bundle of nerves deep inside. 
Your moans turn to a mewl, Eddie nipping at the back of your thighs, his hand cracking over your ass. The sting shoots white hot jolts of electricity through you, an orgasm beginning to warm you from the inside out at a startling rate. Kissing your ass, you feel Eddie smile, “you taste so fucking good princess. So fucking good. God,” he groans, “and you’re all fucking mine. Aren’t you?” His fingers move faster and all you can do is moan and nod, thighs shaking with the need to come. “Aren’t you?” Eddie repeats with another slap to your ass, wanting an actual answer. 
Like he isn’t taking away your ability to form proper thoughts let alone understandable words. Huffing your breath, trying desperately to speak, “y-yes, yours,” your gasp, his tongue joining his fingers, flying you over the edge. Wave after beautiful wave slamming into you in quick succession. Had Eddie not had his fingers inside of you, you’d have slumped right off the table. “I’m yours, Eddie,” you groan when he removes his fingers, half hearing him undo his own belt and the slide of his pants. 
“Good girl,” he soothes the spot he’d smacked with loving strokes of his palm, spitting into his other hand. A whine escapes your lips feeling the head of his cock glide against your pussy. “Ready, princess?” Eddie asks, tapping your cunt with his dick. You think you say yes, you’re almost certain the word came out of your mouth. All you really care about is that Eddie heard your consent and his dick slams into you completely. “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” 
A groan shifts to a whine when he slowly drags himself out of you to the tip, sliding back at the same pace. “Eddie,” you whine again, trying to push your hips back to make him move faster. The heat in your core burns at a dizzying rate from the surprising intensity of the leisurely roll of his hips. But his grip on you is sure, you’re completely at his mercy.
“Look at that,” he gasps out, doing it over and over. You can only imagine that he’s just watching himself disappear inside of you and enjoying it immensely. “So pretty,” Eddie moans, thrusting harder, but only just. Still pulling out till just the tip of his cock is left inside you and ramming himself forward. The pace punches moans from your chest and has your eyes roll back with every deliberate jab to that sweet spot. 
“Ed- fuck!” You cry out, his control of teasing you or keeping up with his own pleasure snaps along with his hips. Eddie holds your hips hard and rails into you harder. Thrusting with abandon and the coil inside of you winds tightly. Threatening to break at any given moment. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moan repeatedly, eyes blurring with lust. 
Eddie fists his hand in the back of your hair, yanking you up to his chest, “that’s right, let it all out, princess.” He wraps a hand around your middle, trailing his fingers down to circle around your clit. “I wanna hear how good I make you feel,” Eddie bites at your neck, sucking what has to be a constellation of marks on your skin, his thrusts not once faltering. “Come for me, pretty girl.” 
His words, his hands, his cock, him. Eddie flies you right over the edge of your orgasm. The coil snapping so hard you feel your pussy spasm around him and do something it’s never done before, even when you’ve played with yourself. You cry out, screaming a moaned, “Eddie,” as your cunt gushes around him. A tear falls from your eye, overwhelmed with sensation but Eddie holds you close, keeping you grounded with an orgasm infused smile on your face. 
He doesn’t gentle you through it, his fingers never ceasing their toying with your clit, “you’re gonna come for me again,” Eddie moans in your ear. You’re nearly overstimulated, but oh so addicted to the feeling of his dick inside of you that you couldn’t care less. You’d come as many times as he’d get you to. “Then I’m gonna come inside my pussy, understand?” 
“Please, please Eddie, fuck,” you moan, your cunt clenching around him with a vice grip. You want to meet his thrusts, but you’re too lost in the perfect pace he’s set that you hadn’t even noticed the all too familiar tingle creeping up on you. Thighs shaking, you hold his arm, the hand in your hair snaking around to a light hold on your throat. Another grunted moan in your ear from Eddie is all it took for you to fall apart again. A breathless scream as your pussy squirts around his cock once more. 
“That’s my girl,” Eddie’s grip tightens around your throat. His fingers finally leave your sensitive clit alone to hold you steady, thrusting a few more times until he shoves himself inside. Eddie lets out a moan, spilling himself deep inside, warming you from the inside out. “Fucking hell, I love you,” he pants, peppering your neck with sweet kisses. He carefully helps you back onto the table top, your hands propping you because your legs are far from stable. 
Your mind is blissfully quiet, only caring about being in the moment with Eddie. You’ll deal with the thought of doing this in the middle of the woods later. Right now, you just want him. Eddie pulls out from your sore pussy as gently as he can and gingerly pulls your pants back up. Kind of pointless considering they’re pretty much instantly soaked from his come leaking out of you. But that’s okay too, you like the feeling. You turn to face him, finding he’s already got his pants pulled up too. 
Reaching out to hug him, Eddie does you one better, scooping you up into his arms in a bridal carry. “You okay, princess?” He asks, kissing the top of your head when you tuck into his neck. 
“I’m okay. Some water would be great right now though,” you mumble, the pure scent of Eddie mixing with the woods around you is better than any aromatherapy out there. “And food. God, and a bath.” 
Eddie chuckles, bending to grab your bat from the ground, “good thing I have a cooler and some snacks in the van. Think that’ll be enough till we get home and I can make you something?” 
“‘S perfect, Eds,” you smile against his skin, curling your fingers in the ends of his hair as he carries you to his van. “Will my car be okay?” 
“I’ll have Gareth or Jeff come get it for you.” Eddie stops in his tracks, “uh,” he chuckles. “Do we need to stop at the pharmacy?” 
Lifting your tired head, you ask, ”why,” heavy lidded eyes barely focusing on him. 
“We didn’t use a condom,” he states, “and I definitely didn’t pull out.” 
You laugh, thumping your head back into his neck, “Eddie, my parents controlled every aspect of my life, you really think they wouldn’t put me on the pill?” You resume playing with his hair and he begins walking again. “I would’ve stopped you otherwise,” tugging his hair lightly you giggle, “it’s more than okay, Eddie. Just get me home so we can eat and take a bath together.”
“Coming right up, princess,” his smile is evident in his tone and he kisses your hair again. 
Part 2
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