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marxo-fm · 20 days

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Take me to Church

✯ John Price x f!reader | Playlist

Summary: A reader who’s so religious that she doesn’t even think of anything close to inappropriate, until she meets her dad’s best friend, Mr. John Price.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: MDNI 18+, mature themes and language, age gap (reader is 25 and Price is in his early 40’s), religious trauma from Catholic variety, dad’s best friend, loss of virginity, pet names, slight aftercare in the end, fear of getting caught from reader, smut, assurance, fingering, reader isn’t all that clueless but super inexperienced, protected PIV, oral (fem! receiving), reader has some troubles with masturbation (failure to finish), Price teaches the reader how to feel good, praising, no descriptions of readers body, race, skin color, ethnicity, hair type/length and body type.

A/N: Currently don’t know wtf I’m doing with my life and how this absurdity came to mind, but aye, I’m all here for it. This was so…..!? Yeah. Also big shout out to Hozier, my icon. Side note: I truly apologize If this fic is rough, I will edit it soon but it’s mostly because I haven’t written in a hot minute, due to school and shit, but I’m back now—and I’m proud of this!

—

The breeze kisses your skin as you soak the sun's warmth on a Friday afternoon. The grass is green, and the clouds are out, summer has just begun. You feel yourself start to come back, you were struggling but now that’s over—for a bit. You look over as you watch your dad chopping wood. Usually, he has his friends helping out, but you guessed they had things to do, which explains why they weren’t here.

You memorized their names.

There’s Gaz, Simon, a man who goes by the name of ‘Soap’—which you find funny and you’re not sure if that’s his real name or if it’s just a nickname—and then…John.

Mr. Price. Or so you call him. Sir or Mr works just fine. But you never explored your unknown and strange feelings for him. How you always felt so shy around his dominating presence, or how his voice sounds like honey and sins. You prayed at night and asked for forgiveness when thinking of such thoughts you’ve never thought of when you see John.

Until one day in high school—in health class—they taught about intercourse and other things that left you baffled and quite scared. Anxious. Curious.

You’d get scolded by your Christian parents when you asked such things, they say it’s too early to get into these topics, or that you should wait until marriage. Your parents are good, but you always follow their rules. You never once disobeyed, only minor times but you always asked for forgiveness.

You’ve always been a good girl, but Mr. Price always makes the fire in your belly grow. And that fire burns through your veins in an excruciating need for something so sinful. Maybe it’s the devil on your shoulder, but you never fight it off, and that was bad.

“Hey honey, ought to help me out here? The jerks I call my friends are out busy somewhere, c’mon, I’ll teach ya.” Your father motioned his hands as he walked to his area where he chops his wood, you’ve never done this before, but you’re excited. He gives you his axe, and you almost give out due to how heavy it is. “Can��t carry it like that sweet pie, hold it strong and firm.” He instructs.

You do as he says, squinting your eyes to look at his face of approval, “I think I got it.”

He nods and you bring the axe up to your shoulder, and you bring it down with every ounce of strength.

You chopped it.

“Attagirl, that’s one hell of a way to chop down wood.” A man with a deeper voice and a southern drawl said from right behind you, you turn around and the blood rushes to your head.

It’s John.

“Oh…Mr. Price,” you stammer, and you feel a rush of embarrassment plastering your cheeks.

“Y’know ya can call me John, right? Good job raisin’ her pal, she got manners.” He chews on his toothpick as he takes the axe from your hands, and the contact leaves you feeling vulnerable and so flustered. His rough hands that he used to work, chop wood, and fix things felt oddly familiar on your soft skin.

“We taught her well, ain’t that right darlin’?” John looks over his shoulder, his flannel covering his bulging biceps and that itself makes you feel thirsty for cold water.

“Yes, Dad,” you replied softly, “Well, I’m just going to head on over back home to help Mom out. Want anything to drink John?”

John looked at you momentarily, the way his name slipped out of your sweet mouth left him speechless. His eyes gaze over your white dress that sits just above your knees, it feels like he is undressing you, but he’s just wondering how and when the hell you looked like this. Of course, you were always beautiful, but there was something special there.

A spark.

“No ma’am.” He waved his hand and went back to work. You watched as his forearms grew bigger when he swung that axe down.

Forgive me for my sins.

You mumbled before you opened the door to your home and walked in.

—

“My baby’s such a bad girl, aren’t ya? Takin’ me so well.” John praises as he thrusts into you in sinister motions like he’s been deprived of something so good for such a long time, that it almost drove him over the wall.

How you felt so good, so welcoming, as his thrusts became deeper and faster. Touching parts of you that you didn’t even know existed—nor could feel. It was an out-of-body experience like your soul had ascended, and you didn’t know whether it was real.

Until your alarm woke you up. It wasn’t real, but gosh did it feel real. You’re sweating, and your heart is running a marathon, as you regain your breath, you feel like you committed a crime. A crime so punishable that it could result in a death sentence.

You grab your rosary and you rock back and forth, praying and asking for forgiveness for ever dreaming about him. Your parents always told you that you wouldn’t have a good spot in the afterlife—a place called hell—if you thought of or committed any acts of sin. Especially anything and everything related to dirty inappropriate thoughts or worse, sex. Commit any of these before marriage, and you have a spot ready for you down below.

You feared for your life, even though it was impossible for anyone you love to know. They won’t ever know you have thoughts about John, or how you feel warmth between your legs when you picture him touching you in places you can’t please. Or how you picture him shirtless chopping wood, grabbing your waist from behind as he helps you hold the axe properly and swing it down. It was oh so shameful of you. Dirty, bad, sinful.

But you feel as if enough was enough, you’ve been good for far too long, that you deserve to feel good about yourself for once.

It was the perfect time, six thirty in the morning and both your parents were sleeping away, not knowing their good and obedient daughter was yearning to touch herself.

You lock your doors for safety as you scurried back to bed, you lay down on your back as you skim your fingers down your chest.

Deep breathes in and deep breathes out. You don’t know how to do this, but you’ll give in anyway. You sigh as you pull your shorts down, with your underwear as well. You drew circles around your belly before trailing down to your heat. Soft gasps escaped your mouth at your sensitive touch. Sensitive and swollen from the dream you just had.

You close your eyes, rubbing circular motions on your most sensitive area as you picture John doing this for you instead. Rough and hard-working hands aiding you. A coil in your stomach tightens, urging you to untie right then and there, but you can’t get the motions to stay the same.

You winced as you pushed your finger deeper, your back arching in response. You don’t feel anything, no pleasure, only pain and emptiness.

You want to scream in the agonizing torture of being so close yet so far away. You pull your shorts back up as you go inside the restroom to wash your hands.

You committed acts of sin and weren't pleased, and now you feel nothing but guilt and insecurity of not knowing how to do something right.

—

The next day, the same place you were before. Outside on your dad's truck watching his friends help out with work. John wore a tight brown tee that accentuated his muscles, he's a retired man, but you could see every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears in that body of his.

You blush, thinking about it. About what could be hiding under his shirt.

He catches you eyeing him but you quickly divert your eyes back to your book. John smirked, telling your dad he'll be back in a second and wants to talk with you.

"Ya watchin' me, sweetheart?" He smiled, taking a cigarette out of his pocket. You watched as he did so, fearing that he'd ask you to take a puff, though you never would. "I...I was just trying to learn how you chop your wood, sir."

A deep chuckle escapes his mouth, "Y'know I can teach you, doll," the new nickname had you unable to face him, but he loved seeing you flustered. He took a puff and you nodded, "Come on over to my place, your dad won't mind. I'm not at home much, anyway. S'good to learn y'know," he went on as he walked closer to you, his southern accent becomes deeper as he goes, "You'll have the privacy that you need, to read your books and pray." He knew how religious you are, heck, he's a good friend to your parents.

"I don't know if my father will let me go, with a man nonetheless." John looks back and then back to you, "It's only me, angel."

You decide to ask your father, just in case. You don't want to go behind his back, even if John is family. You walk on over, building the courage to ask your father if it's okay to go over to a man's house, a man you yearn for.

"Dad, is it okay If John takes me to his house? He's gonna teach me how to chop wood." Your dad looks at you momentarily, before speaking, "Of course honey, just because I want you to help an old man out here and there. 'Aka' me." You tried to keep your cool, to not look so eager about going over a man's house.

John smiled, the thought of having you all to himself at his place gets him straining against his jeans. He loves it when you eye him as if he doesn't know or sense when you drool over him.

"Here's your room, sweet thing, if ya ever need anything I'm just a shout away." He sets his tools down and walks to the kitchen, his jeans shaping his toned legs and shirt sizes too small. Butterflies invade your stomach, merely at the thought that you'd be sleeping under the same roof as this man, and willing to teach you something you're so interested in.

"Can't believe your dress is that short, doll. Your mother let you out like that?" He eyed your white dress that sits just above your knees and shows more skin than the dresses you usually wear. "You know, Mr. Price, I'm an adult now."

"Course you are," he takes a sip of his beer, "but I ain't take you as the one to dress like this. Can't say I don't like it."

You smile, flustered at the way he just complimented you. You can't deny that you like it, you love it. It sent a rush of arousal through your entire body, and he noticed the way you crossed your legs.

"Damnit,"

"What is it?" You asked curiously, not knowing that John saw the way you squeezed your thighs together. He wants to ease the need and desire that coursed through you, but he doesn't want to screw it all up.

"Nothin', now come on outside."

"Now, you're going to hold it just like this," he instructs, pushing his hard body against your back as he holds your arms. You could feel the hardness of his strain on your back and you scream internally, unable to form coherent thoughts.

You made this so hard for him, so difficult to the point where John himself forgot what he wanted to teach you.

"Easy," his calloused hands left your arms and snaked their way along your waist. Your stomach flipped at the action. Goosebumps flare over your entire skin, his manly scent entering your nose and taking over your mind. You swallowed, and continued.

"Now raise your axe, and swing it down."

You did just so, and you successfully chopped the wood.

"That's it, angel baby, look at ya. Such a good learner."

"I am, aren't I?" You slightly bit your lip, John cursed himself and cupped your face. "Mm, damn right you are." John wondered deeply if you were such a good learner in other parts as well. Price cupping your face was a first, but his calloused hands that signal just how much of a hard worker made the intense throb between your legs grow.

You wake up with your blanket suffocating as you struggle to fall asleep, again. You tossed and turned, repeating everything and every touch he gave you. You try to stop the need and the burn in your belly, you really do, but it's hard when you don't know how to fulfill your need. It became so bad to the point where you stood up and walked to the kitchen for water.

He wasn't in his room, he was out for the morning. A busy man and you're so silly for thinking he'd be home, even when he informed you he wouldn't be home every passing hour.

But oh how much you needed him. In ways, you couldn't forgive yourself for it.

You sit down, as quiet as a mouse, waiting patiently for him to come back just so you can confess your dirty sins. Maybe he'll forgive you for them, or maybe he won't show you mercy.

You try to occupy yourself, laying down on the couch and turning on the TV, still in your nightgown. You pull the blanket over, ready to watch a cooking video to learn a few things.

But it hits you that you're actually able to do something about the heat in between your legs, now that nobody is here. The house was quiet except for the TV playing.

Your hand trails under the blanket, lifting your nightgown as you reach for your soaked underwear. Shameful how you're soaked even when he's not around, John really leaves his mark on you. You let out a sigh as you reached your wet and sensitive clit.

It's not easy when you struggle to please yourself, it's so disappointing, honestly. Today was no different.

There is this creeping guilt, but it always hits you the most just when you creep up the tip of the mountain, only for you to fall off when you realize what you're doing.

You can't stop thinking of him, shoulders aching and tears urging to escape when you're so close to reaching the end, only for it to be unsuccessful.

So, you close your eyes and let out a deep breath. Spreading your legs further as your fingers plunged into your aching hole, you gasped. Picturing yet again, how he pleases his women. Of course, he knew how, he is well experienced and capable of pleasing a woman, to the point where she forgets her own name.

You're committing acts of sins in his own home, unforgivable and dirty. Because you were raised with the idea of being perfect, but no one is perfect. From the moment you're born and the moment you die--but the moment you die is the moment John Price fulfills your dirty little dreams.

He whispers in your ear telling you how to do this and how to do that.

'Just like that.'

'Those fingers are too light, darlin', lemme do all the work."

"Attagirl, in and out."

And you almost reached the top of the mountain, whispering finally as sweat buds trail down your forehead.

Finally, finally, finally.

Until you fell down the mountain you tried so hard climbing, when John swings open the door to the sight of his best friend's daughter getting off on his couch. You hurriedly pull your panties back up.

At that moment, you wanted to scream.

To run away.

To die.

He's going to tell your dad, and your entire body freezes. You can't plead for forgiveness when you're so far gone. No mercy will be shown when he kicks you out and tells your parents how bad their daughter truly is.

You sit straight as your body shakes in fear, you're unable to cry when you know your fate.

A sinful girl.

"John," you choke, "I-I am so so sorry, I didn't mean to. I really wasn't-"

"How long have you been at this?" Your heart drops all the way down as the blood from your face drains. "O..only," you struggle to speak as his deep brown eyes gaze at you, "It was only this one time."

You lied.

Another sin.

He stands in silence, shutting the door behind him as he takes big steps towards you. He hovers over you, looking down to see a dirty girl in front of him. As if you played this innocent and sweet girl, though you were, except in John's eyes you weren't. At least that's what you thought.

He takes your chin and pushes your head up to face him, you weren't able to look in his eyes, it was all too much.

"Look at me," he grumbled, you did just what he said. Not once resisting, although it was difficult.

"I ain't mad at ya, it's natural, honey."

Your eyes widened and your shoulders relaxed from the tension and fear.

"You're not going to tell on me?" You asked, Price chuckles.

"Course I'm not, I ain't no snitch, I'm a grown man." He bends on his knees, his thumbs rubbing circular motions on your exposed skin.

"Did it feel good? Sorry to have ruined it for ya' angel." It sure did feel good knowing you almost reached the top, it really did, but it felt better having John assuring you that it was all okay. "You don't have to be sorry--I was just..."

"Go on."

"Continue what I interrupted, don't let my presence stop ya," he signaled his pointer finger toward the door to his room, "it ain't comfortable here. No space to spread those sweet legs, is there?"

You shake your head, "Go on, unless you want me in there. I know deep down you do, doll, you can feel so much better." He's right, the moment you've been dreaming of, it finally comes true. How could you say no to John being in the same room making you feel good?

You almost can't believe it.

He suddenly picks you up from the couch, initiating a soft gasp from you when he opens the door and throws you on his mattress.

You balance yourself with your two hands when he undresses himself in front of you. Starting off with his shirt. You gasp once again, at the sight of his sculpted body before you. His chest was full of hair and his abs were the definition of perfect.

He gets on the bed and slowly crawls towards you, his head now in between your thighs. "I interrupted your time of need, sweet girl, let me make it up to you." He smiles before hooking his finger on the hem of your underwear, pulling them down all the way to your ankles. On display right before him, so shy you hid away, unable to look at the lewd sight in front of you. "That ain't gonna work for me, eyes over here." His fingers dug into your thighs, you did just as he said, looking at his eyes that continue to look at your pretty pussy.

"S'fuckin' wet."

It's a dream come true for John as well, to see you all wide open and soaking wet for him.

He places peppered kisses along your thighs, and you whimper as he stops. John makes his way up to your lips, biting your bottom lip before kissing you deeply and hungrily. Exactly like the dreams.

His stache brushing against your top lip only made it feel real, his tongue deep inside your mouth as your hands held the back of his head, pushing his mouth impossibly deeper. He's eating your face as if it were his last meal on death row. Like a predator catching his prey.

He pulls away from the intense kiss, the saliva leaving both of you.

Good God did he know how to kiss, you let him do all the work when you could barely kiss him back just as good.

His chest heaved, and he continued with his kisses on your neck and down your collarbone, pushing a soft moan out of you that drove John over the wall. "Make more noises, it's only the two of us, jus' let me hear ya." He cooed, his hands lifting your nightgown over your hips and then over your head. His eyes trailed over your breasts hidden in your bra. "Ah fuck," you sit up, allowing John to unclip your bra, the sight of your chest out on display for him made his mouth water. He grips your left breast with one hand while he sucks and kisses the other.

"Oh, John...keep doing that, please."

He kneads your breast, almost putting you to sleep with how good it feels, "mmmhm," you sighed, "you been wantin' this, and I'm sorry for waiting this long." He apologizes as he places kisses down your belly and finally makes his way back to being in between your thighs.

"No need...to be sorry," you breathe, tilting your head back when he swipes his tongue between your wet folds. The new feeling alone made your legs tremble, enticing a loud gasp from you. You start to rock your hips against his mouth as his deep groans vibrate through your entire nervous system. "Taste like fuckin' Heaven, oh sweet baby, I think you are heaven itself." Praise that had you dropping your jaw as he inserted his hot tongue in your hole.

You swore you saw Heaven.

Brows furrowed and back arched as he eats you like a hungry man, your hands gripping the sheets underneath you, and your legs spread further open inviting him in for more.

John inserts one finger in as his tongue continues to suck on your most sensitive area, and you let out the loudest moan you didn't think you were capable of ever making.

You died in this moment. And John swore he died in that moment, also.

"John," you pant, focusing on what could be your first-ever orgasm.

"I know, you're close baby, s'fuckin' tight, come for me." His words of encouragement suddenly break the coil inside your burning belly, the liquid seeping out of you as he continues to lick away every last bit from you.

He takes his finger and licks you away, which leaves you half-lidded.

"See? How hard was that? Like rippin' a damn bandaid off, does your wound feel better?" He teased, "It does," you say softly, still reminiscing what happened a few seconds ago. What you just felt, how it felt like fireworks exploding inside your veins.

"Such a perfect pussy, waiting to be full of me." He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans, you've never had sex, but you definitely never needed something more than now. You need him, to get to know him, even when you already do.

"Does it hurt like they say?" You asked nervously, watching as his jeans disappeared, leaving him only in his boxers. His thick thighs didn't do much justice in the dim light.

"When I do it, then it shouldn't be as bad, doll. Jus' a little pain, but if ya feel like it's too much, you jus' tell me. Hm?"

It makes you feel special with how sweet he treats you, he treats you with such care that it truly makes you dizzy.

He takes off his boxers and you almost lose all consciousness, his cock leaking with pre-cum and hard, you thought it was quite inhumane how big he is.

Sure you've explored your curiosity, but John, he differed from all of them.

"Poor thing needs some love and I'm going to show your pussy what the definition of love is." You grew heavy with desire, "ya need me to use a condom, sweetheart?" he asked, you nodded, simply because you weren't on the pill.

He opens his drawer and pulls out a condom, ripping it off with his teeth and spitting a piece of the wrapper out.

That was a sight for sore eyes.

He slips it on his thick cock, the condom intensifying every vien, it left your mouth dry like a Sahara desert.

How was that going to fit? Was all you were thinking about, but you were so sure he was going to make it feel okay.

He sets his heavy cock on your soaking entrance, teasing you while he moves his dick up and down your folds, you whine with need and John chuckles.

Was this the sinful thing that would literally damn you for eternity? How could something so dirty feel so good?

He brings a hand of his to pin your arms down, while the other holds your leg close to him. Your brows furrow as he slowly enters himself into you. John grows concerned when he sees your lips pursed and your eyes shut tightly, a tear escaping.

He stops, and you stop holding your breath.

"It hurts don't it? Want me to stop?"

"Please, no," you gasp, "I...I want you to keep going."

He readjusts your hips, before proceeding to continue, "You sure, honey?" You nod and whisper a hundred times yes before he thrusts deep inside of you.

"So fuckin' good for me, fuck!" he shouts, he loved the way your cunt fluttered and wrapped tightly around his cock.

The silence in the room was filled with his groans and loud moans from you, so lewd and so dirty. But you're too far deep to leave now, you're ready to die, happily.

"My," he thrusts, then pulling away and thrusting back in deeper, "gorgeous," you gasp when he continues his rhythm of thrusting and being so close to pulling out before he thrusts impossibly deeper again, "Girl." He breathed.

He brings his fingers to circle your sensitive clit, and you feel it happening again. It's more intense and heavier.

Your walls wrapped tightly on his cock, initiating that you're indeed closer than you have ever been before. "Mhmm," he moaned, and it was such a sweet sound you so badly wanted to hear again. He grabs hold of your legs, bringing them closer to your head, thrusting at a deeper angle that you can feel in your throat.

"That's it, baby, that's my fuckin' girl right here. All mine, gimme one more." He stopped as you cried out his name over and over until it became engraved in John's brain. He silences your cries with his lips as your legs shake around him.

"You did so well for me, your pussy jus' needed some medicine to be cured, got you coming all over my cock." He begins to move again, to finish himself this time. Your pain turns into pleasure and familiarity when he pushes himself in and out.

"John, that feels so..." He groans loudly at the way you watch his cock slide in and out, it was obscene but also surreal, "look at you, fuck, gonna make me cum just lookin' at me like that."

Which you felt so good about, it's all you wanted.

He pants as he reached a certain point, chest heaving as you can feel his cock twitching inside of you.

John pulls out, and there's sadness in your heart at the emptiness. Your heart thuds loudly that your first time to be with a man you dreamed about, it feels euphoric. You felt ecstatic.

He wipes away your dry tears and your hair away from your face, that drowned in sweat and tears.

John admired you the second he laid his eyes on you till now, he never knew the definition of perfect until this moment.

"Can you teach me how to feel good?" You asked as your hand roamed his broad shoulders and his back. And fuck, did John love that.

"Course' baby, on top of the choppin' the damn wood lessons," you both laugh, "I got all the time in the world, for you."

Your heart ached, he whispered sweet nothings before he carried you into the bathroom to clean up the mess.

Then you nestled under his arms and his body heat, his chest, and arms hugging you as the two of you slept the day away.

It was worth every waking second, and now you can sleep peacefully.

A/N: Y'all, wtf. Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. Need him.

This lowkey needs to be edited some more now that I’m reading it, but I’ll definitely do that later…

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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months

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twenty four hours (modern eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY ONE

in which you try everything you can to make eddie feel better after his encounter with chrissy - to make him forget, to make him feel cherished, to make him feel worthy.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, a single use of Y/N, smut (p in v), oral (m receiving), voyeurism, edging, good old fashioned ball worship if you squint, maybe some sub!eddie if you squint even harder, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7.3k+

→ a/n: shout out to @hellfire--cult for the balcony idea. i knew i'd get them there at some point, little freaks. and everyone say thank you to @icallhimjoey for the early post 😏

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

21:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00

HOUR TWENTY ONE - 12:00 PM

STEVE-O: why do you guys suck so much at providing photographic proof of being alive? seriously

You’ve been staring at Steve’s text ever since the two of you arrived back at the apartment. You’d reply soon enough, but for now, the message was a distraction.

Eddie wasn’t speaking to you.

Not in a brooding sense, but in a way that let you know he was too far gone in his own head right now for you to reach him. When you’d said those words to him, when you’d admitted that you found him worth it, you saw his eyes glaze over slowly. You’d watched in real time as he slipped away from you. It might be that he doesn’t believe you, it might be guilt that continues to gnaw at him for a past that can’t be changed — whatever it is, you hate it.

The easy solution would be to send Steve the photos from the cafe, but you’d already tried that. Your thumb had hovered over that photo of Eddie with a mouthful of croissant, still bright and brilliant before all his waves of self-hatred had gotten ahold of him, and you just couldn’t. It was selfish, it was ridiculous, but you couldn’t share that piece of him with others. Some small, childish, hopeless bit of you needed to cling to the man in that photo and keep him safely inside your chest. It wasn’t a new version to your friends, they’ve always tried to defend Eddie and convince you he wasn’t all bad, but it was new to you. It was all so unexpected and unforeseen, the look behind his golden eyes as he seemingly looked right past the camera and right into you.

No, you couldn’t send that photo. It was for your eyes only. A souvenir you had greedily stolen.

Eddie had excused himself to the bathroom when you two arrived at the apartment, and this time, there was no dirty intentions behind it. You left well enough alone — he needed a moment to be by himself and that was fine. You could entertain yourself until he was ready to come back to you, back down to Earth. Right now, you were currently picking apart an almond croissant as if it were the most interesting thing you’d ever laid eyes on.

Croissant dissection — see? You absolutely could distract yourself in order to give him space. Absolutely no sarcasm there.

You finally sigh when you see a message bubble pop up with three little dots, signifying Steve is typing again. You don’t give him the time to properly finish out his message before you click on your camera icon, snap a shot of the picked apart croissant in front of you, and send a message with the image attached.

YOU: we were eating breakfast, eddie’s been in the bathroom. happy, mom?

STEVE-O: he’s been in the bathroom for an entire hour?

YOU: oh, you know how you men get with toilet time.

Despite the playful tone of your texts, your face is completely flat, chest still heavy as you think about Eddie behind the wooden door. Should you be giving Eddie this amount of space? What if it’s doing more damage than good?

You’re about to stand from the stool you’ve occupied for nearly ten minutes now and go try your hand at knocking, try and remind Eddie that you’re still here, when Steve’s next text comes through.

STEVE-O: stop bullshitting me. what happened?

You swear you taste metallic blood from how hard you bite down on your bottom lip, staring at the mocking message. You can’t even begin to explain to Steve what has transpired, not just this last hour, but the entirety of the time. The parking garage, the joking marriage, Chrissy showing up, Eddie’s painful vulnerability – you can’t find the words to tell him about any of it. The same as you can’t find it in you to send the photo of Eddie in Betty’s.

YOU: nothing happened. do you need any more proof than that?

He only reacts to your message with a thumbs up. You assume that means you’re in the clear, for now.

When you exit your thread of messages with Steve, a new thread that has been started catches your eye. It’s a new number, no contact on it. The only message sent is from you – the photo of you with your coffee, head thrown back and eyes shut with a wide smile boosting your cheeks.

Eddie’s phone number.

You look at the photo of yourself for a while, trying to not cringe at your appearance. To you, you just looked ridiculous. You don’t understand why Eddie wanted this photo preserved so badly. Your smile is too wide, your eyes are mere slits from the way your cheeks were squishing up with joy, most of your makeup you’d started the night with has long since faded due to a multitude of activities. You don’t feel like anything special in this photo.

But Eddie had wanted it. He had deemed this moment in time of you as picture-worthy, had gone so far as to send it to himself so that he’d have this memory even if you deleted it from your phone.

Before you think too hard on it, you tap on that line of numbers and add a proper contact profile to it.

EDDIE. You keep the contact name simple, eager to get it out of the way as you move onto the next step. A contact photo. You don’t even have to ponder on it – in a flash, you’ve selected the picture of him with the croissant.

You’re back on the thread of messages – or, at least, the singular message – and don’t stop yourself as your thumbs begin to fly over your keyboard.

YOU: why were the almond croissants almost sold out?

To be fair, you didn’t even know if Eddie had his phone on him. That green message stares back at you for a few moments before you get your answer.

EDDIE: Excuse me?

He has his phone. You lift your head, looking at the closed door of the bathroom before glancing back down at your phone.

YOU: because everyone went NUTS over them.

You perk your ears and listen for any sign of life from down the hall. Anything. A scoff, a pitiful laugh, him calling you stupid aloud. You’ll take whatever he offers.

It takes a moment, and you truly have to strain to hear it, but you can hear the laugh that would better pass as a sigh.

EDDIE: Is that supposed to be a joke?

YOU: ‘supposed to be’. excuse me, it was definitely a joke. and a very good one, at that.

EDDIE: Debatable.

You find yourself smiling down at the phone. Your neck aches from the way you keep glancing up suddenly at the door, silently pleading for him to come back out. To come out and fight with you, come out and bicker with you, come out and ignore you. Anything, for him to leave the bathroom and do anything but keep that door shut between you two.

He doesn’t, so you send another bad joke.

YOU: what did the customer say when they looked at the croissant?

This time, he plays along.

EDDIE: I don't know, what?

YOU: what a BREADtaking sight.

This time, you hear a more proper scoff come from within the bathroom.

YOU: i heard that. don’t even try to tell me it wasn’t funny.

EDDIE: I’m not laughing because they’re funny. I’m laughing because they’re BAD.

YOU: bet you wouldn’t say that to my face.

Immediately, you discard the phone, facedown on the counter as you look up to the door with unbridled hope. He could always ignore the comment, choose to not respond and continue to sulk away from you. It’s entirely possible – but you pray to every star in the sky that that isn’t what he’s going to do.

Please come back out. Please, even if just to sit in silence with me.

Your prayers are answered.

Slowly, painfully slowly, you hear shuffling on the other side of the door and await for the click of the door unlocking. It never comes, though – the door was never locked in the first place. He opens it, and you realize that the entire time, you could have stormed into the small room with him and demanded that he not hide away.

But you didn’t. You gave him space, gave him patience, and it’s clear he knows this as he comes out.

His eyes are red. As if he’s been crying.

“Hi,” you meekly say, taking in his face past those red-rimmed eyes. The tip of his nose is a fading shade of pink, as if he’s been rubbing it incessantly, and he sniffs for good measure as he turns the bathroom light off and walks to where you are.

“Hi,” his voice is rough around the edges as he greets you back. He won’t look you in the eye once he’s within reach – his gaze remains downcast, and you catch him fiddling with a few of his rings.

You hadn’t considered what you would do if you got this far. In every carefully considered scenario, you’d assumed he’d shut you out. You never expected him to come straight to you, as if seeking out comfort from you, without you having to beg it of him.

His eyes catch the croissants on the counter, torn apart and lazily picked at. He’s about to open his mouth and say something about it, probably questioning what you had done to the poor pastry, but you don’t give him a chance. You’re quick to snatch up one of the pieces you’d been picking apart to snack on for yourself and hold it out to him. An olive branch, an offering – a reason for him to sit and stay for a while with you.

He takes it tentatively, finally looking you in your eye again as he takes a small bite. It’s nothing compared to the bite he had taken when you’d snapped the photo of him, mere crumbs compared to that mouthful.

“Did you just… massacre our croissants?” he questions, squinting his eyes down at the crime scene.

You shift your body jokingly, failing at blocking him from seeing the mess you made, “Absolutely not. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

He almost cracks a grin, “Right. Of course. I must be imagining things.”

“Wanna hear another pun?” you blurt out, suddenly nervous as he continues to stand before you. You hate the incessant need inside of your chest that calls for you to comfort him, to make this all better for him.

“I feel like you’ll tell me one even if I say no,” he raises an eyebrow at you, “So, sure.”

“Why did the croissant go to the doctor?”

He hums, trying to peer over your shoulder again at the croissants you were badly hiding, “Let me guess. Is it because you tore it apart mercilessly?”

“No,” you scoff, reaching behind you to grab another piece to offer to him as well as one of your own, “It was because he was feeling crummy, dumb ass.”

A crack of a smile. It’s miniscule but there. It makes that terrible pun worth it, just to see him not looking quite as defeated is worth all the stars in the sky at this point for you.

You’d certainly been the reason for his unhappiness in the past, and you surely would be again at some point. It all feels so inevitable; just as he believes that he can only bring you misery, you can’t imagine yourself bringing him joy. A belief that strikes something in your chest, something albeit more painful than you’d care to admit, but it’s true. You’ve crossed a line, you’ve changed everything, but the past still remains.

You aren’t perfect. Neither is Eddie.

Heartbreak is imminent, but for this brief moment, you can make him smile. You don’t need to worry about the next time you’ll piss him off or upset him, you just need to focus on making that twitch on his lips more permanent.

“I meant what I said earlier, by the way,” you decide to rip off the bandaid as he moves as if to sit beside you. Quickly, your words make him freeze. A bad sign, but you push through, because he needs to hear these things, “You deserve good things, Eddie. Good people, good things- you just… you deserve those things in your life.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

He’s turning away from you. Turning and heading to the living room, walking away from you.

You don’t let him. In an instant, you get onto your feet and follow him, continuing despite him acting as if he’s finished with the conversation. You’re not.

“You’re a good person, Eddie,” you insist, reaching out for him before he makes it to the couch, “Don’t walk away from me.”

He spins easily in your grip. “Just because you say something, doesn’t make it true, sweetheart.”

He’s back to saying it like a curse. Like it’s a harmful title. As if it’s not a privilege to you and all your metaphors to hear that nickname fall from his lips.

Right before your eyes, his defenses are on the rise. Brick by brick, he’s slowly reforming those walls to separate the two of you. Instead of defeat, instead of acceptance, it just makes you angry.

“Stop doing that,” you say quietly, carefully, firmly.

“Stop doing what?”

“That. Pushing me away. Locking me out,” you tighten your hand on his bicep and watch the way his nostrils flare, “I fucking hate it.”

“Despite what you believe,” he takes a step closer to you, “Not everything I do is meant to piss you off.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and we both know it,” you can feel his muscles tense beneath your touch.

This time, his smile that emerges is cold. But you can still see the rubbage left by his tears — pink water lines and a new puffiness around his eyes. His words and his sudden cool demeanor can’t hurt you when you see it for what it is.

“Clearly we both don’t know it,” he chastised you, “We are very rarely on the same page. This isn’t a damn exception. You don’t have to prove your point, it doesn’t matter.”

He’s a wounded animal, striking out. He’s letting Chrissy’s words get to him.

“You’re worth i-“

“Don’t,” One of his hands shoot out to grip your waist, “Don’t fucking say that. Please. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

He didn’t believe you.

“I meant it,” you whisper, anger shaking out of your grasp inch by inch as you realize that your words can’t break through to him, “I mean it. You’re worth it, to me, to St-“

“This isn’t about Steve,” he cuts you off, “It’s not about Steve, or Nancy, or Robin, or fucking Argyle. No need to play dumb anymore.”

It’s about you.

You both know it. For once, contradictory to what he’d just claimed, you’re both on the same page. And like he said, no need to play dumb.

“You’re worth it to me,” you say it with more confidence this time, “You’re a good person to me.”

“How can you say that?” he laughs out, void of amusement, “How can you say shit like that after everything we’ve been through?”

How can you not?

You only squeeze his bicep tighter, and he returns the action by gripping your hip harsher. “Because I mean it. I believe it. Whether you do or not.”

For a moment, the cracks in his armor expose themselves.

“You shouldn’t,” his voice should waver, “You shouldn’t believe those things, Y/N. You should hate me.”

“But I don’t,” And I never did.

“But you don’t,” he echoes.

You’ve done the opposite of what you had wanted. His smile is gone, that sadness creeping back up. You hate that. You don’t hate him — you hate that world of mourning behind his eyes, that defeat that brings his shoulders down and makes his grip on you falter. So you do the only thing you can think of to distract him. Make him forget.

“Make me hate you.”

His eyes widen briefly, “Excuse me?”

“Make me hate you,” you practically beg of him, “Show me why you’re such a bad person and I’ll let this go. I’ll drop the conversation, we can- Fuck, we can forget this entire morning happened. Make me hate you, Eddie, and I’ll stop reminding you that I don’t.”

His fingers curl back into you, slowly and gently, as his brows furrow. He’s considering what you’ve just said — more than that, you can see him trying to untangle all the hidden meanings behind it.

“And how do you suggest I do that?” his voice is low and calculated.

You shrug, stepping forward, letting your lips get even closer to his, “Not my problem. Just make me.”

The fingers are no longer gentle as he pulls you into him, finally catching onto the emphasis you place on those two little words.

Make me.

When his lips meet yours, they’re rough and brutal, taking greedily what they want from you. The only thing on your mind is making him forget. Make him forget, carry the load for him — they’re both more important than making him smile for now. Both these driving needs burn brighter in your chest because it’s clear that’s what he needs.

You’re willing to give him whatever he needs right now.

“You want me to make you hate me, baby?” he mumbled against your lip, practically drinking in the way you gasp as he starts to pull back, “Is that really what you want?”

It’s what you want. “Yes.”

And maybe you do too, when he leans back in to bite your lip. There will be another time for you to convince him with words that you find him to be worth it. Both hands from wrap around you and rough start to guide you back towards that fucking couch.

“Not the couch,” you suddenly protest, digging your heels into the carpet at the center of his living room, “Anywhere but the couch.”

And oh, the way he’s looking at you in that moment might be your new favorite thing. Your new favorite color is his eyes as they sparkle with a bit of life that had been missing since the coffee shops encounter. Your new favorite sound is the silence that encases the little breath he lets out. Your new favorite movie is watching him move in slow motion as his eyes dart behind you, towards the door to his balcony, before his lips finally curl up with a hint of the genuine warmth that had been hidden behind his walls.

“Anywhere?” he teases, beginning to walk you backwards.

You nod, grinning right back at him.

“I think I have an idea.”

If you had known twenty one hours ago that Eddie Munson, your sworn enemy, would have you out on his public balcony and on your knees for him in only a matter of time, past you would have….

Well, you don’t really care what past you would have done or thought anymore. You’re making him forget, yes, all while making yourself forget. You don’t care what you, twenty one hours ago, would or wouldn’t do as you let the past slip through your fingers so eagerly. All you can focus on is the dig of concrete against your knees, the way Eddie’s hands grip the railing as he leans against it, and the way the early afternoon sun forms a halo around him as you look up through fluttering lashes.

You just want to make him feel good. Every action is intentional, doing everything in your power to erase whatever storming thoughts had been haunting him so cruelly since Chrissy had so carelessly said what she had. You want to make him feel worthy. You want to make him feel loved.

Loved. You certainly didn’t love him — you couldn’t possibly, could you? He wouldn’t let you. You wouldn’t let yourself. But for now, you could play pretend; you could worship his body, drag his shirt out of the way and place playful kisses across his hips, and you could pretend that only this moment exists.

“You wanna know what makes me such a bad person?” he sighs out as you let your teeth graze his skin, shoulders rolling to shake off that shiver you elicit from him, “This. The fact that this is all I can fucking think about.”

“Hm,” you can only hum in response, nails taking over the denim of the jeans he currently wore. You walk your fingers up his thighs, moving closer and closer to his zipper. Your mouth is nearly watering at the prospect of worshiping him.

And the fact that any neighbor could walk out at any given moment and catch the two of you. You should probably insist on it being fast, on him being quiet, but the thought sends a thrill through the pit of your stomach. Your thighs clench and your cunt aches at the thought of being caught.

You want to do more than make him bite back mere moans of your name. You want to make him scream.

Suddenly, a hand tangles into the roots of your hair, pulling back and making you focus on him again.

“Eyes on me,” he instructs. Once you focus on him and only him, he continues, loosening his grip and letting those fingertips rub at your scalp soothingly, “You know why you should hate me? For all the nights I pictured this.”

“Yeah?” you smile innocently, playing along. He can talk all he wants, you know once you get your mouth on him, he’ll be lucky to remember his own name. “How many nights, hm? Tell me all about them, pretty boy.”

You catch the wobble in his knees, the way his breathing picks up, the brilliant shade of ivory his knuckles stretch to. You lean back on your haunches, and the hand in your hair slips as he glowers down at you.

“What are you-”

“Take off your shirt,” you calmly command.

“Excuse me?”

“Your shirt. I want it off.”

His hand that was once tangled against your scalp now comes down to your face, movement slow but not hesitant as he pinches your chin. His thumb tugs on your bottom lip, and you let out, even making a show of letting your tongue peek out to tap at it. “And who said you were calling the shots?”

“I did,” you put it simply, completely removing your hands from him now, “Take off the shirt, or I’ll leave you out here with blue balls.”

You close your lips around the end of his thumb and his knuckles dig in deeper to the skin below your chin as you suck subtly. He chuckles, but you can hear just how breathless he goes at the small action, even as he keeps up the act with a hard press of his thumb on your lower lip. Your mouth hangs open for him, waiting patiently for his next move.

A game of chess, an exchange of power, a fight for dominance. All the lines of who is and isn’t in control are blurred.

“Have you always been so mean, baby?” he taunts, trailing what spit you’d left behind on his thumb along your lip.

His movement stops when your lips spread into a provocative smile, “I learned from the best, didn’t I?”

The retort had potential to backfire. You wait for smoke and glory, for him to pull away from you further. He’d slam down a brick right in front of your face, lay the mortar to leave you high and dry. He’d push you away, and you’d have to retreat, tail tucked between your legs in the shame of trying when it came to him.

No smoke, no glory. He secedes, but makes no move to add to his walls, only removing his hand from your face and taking off the shirt. Just as you had told him to.

“Better?” he asks as he makes a show of tossing the shirt to the other side of the balcony. It could have even flown over the railing, for all you paid attention to the scrap of clothing. Maybe some innocent bystander is on the streets below, confused to all Hell as to why it’s raining obscure band t-shirts.

You’re just a bit too distracted to consider that right now.

With Eddie’s torso revealed, all words seem to evade you. You catch the sweat beginning to gather across his sternum, watching the way he’s flushing beneath your gaze, reveling in the pink chest exposed to you as the blush crawls wider. Instantly, your original purpose is forgotten, the primal urge to pepper kisses and bites alike across his skin almost lifting you up off your sore knees. You want to leave bruises – you want to make him scream, you want to mark him up, you want to make him feel worthy.

You stay on your knees, but compromise with all your wants as you lift up and stretch a bit. Your lips start their trail a bit lower than you (or Eddie) would have liked, taking their time to get familiar with the spanse of his rib cage first. You don’t nip with teeth, not yet. Just chaste kisses, lining each bone you can hardly feel residing beneath the skin, feeling his lungs expanding against your affection. Your tongue swipes alongside one of his side tattoos, a large and detailed dragon you hadn’t paid much mind to before. Every time you’d seen him shirtless, you’d been a bit distracted.

Not now. Now, you’re focused, determined to learn every curve and dip there is to explore on Eddie. You want to know him better than the back of your hands, memorize him more intricately than your own palms. After all, in order to worship a deity, you must know them.

You return back to the center line of his abdomen, kisses chasing after one another, even taking the time to suck his skin between your teeth but never bite down. You pause once your lips rest right beneath his navel, the tip of your nose brushing that rough patch of hair that leads down to your end destination. Your hands reach for his belt, toying with the buckle.

Through heavy lashes, you look up at him, staring down at you in awe, “You know, you’re not doing a very good job at making me hate you, pretty boy. Think I might just have to worship you instead.”

A deity of your own making. A deity for your own taking.

With skill, your hands undo the buckle effortlessly. You unbutton and unzip his jeans as if you’ve done this part a million times, as if you’d spent every single Sunday of the last year right here and doing exactly this. On your knees, worshiping him. This balcony, for all its exposure, certainly knows how to serve as a holy place.

He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re impatient. You still haven’t left him speechless, meaning you still hadn’t made your point, clearly.

His jeans hang loosely as they creep down his thighs, abandoned for a moment as you occupy your mouth against his hips. The hips you once thought would look so pretty properly decorated. You decide you were wrong – they don’t need ink burying into the skin, they need your teeth digging in.

You cover that skin with mirroring images of bursts of purple and pink, flowering bruises that you take your time to mark onto him. With each suck and bite, Eddie rolls his hips into you, head leaned back and throat straining with each moan he swallows down.

With the last hickey finished, you finally lean back, proud of your masterpiece as Eddie whimpers above you. Blooms in the shape of your lips mingle with faint and quickly fading teeth marks.

“Fuck,” he gasps out when your fingertip stops trailing over your markings and comes down to apply the softest pressure over the straining bulge in his boxers.

“What was it that you said earlier?” your finger traces over where you know a vein is – you know it because you’ve felt it, been driven insane by it – before circling around the wet patch now forming. He’s desperate, hips bucking again and a moan finally escaping. You think he’s bitten his lips hard enough in an attempt at self-restraint that they might be bleeding, “You said I’m not calling the shots, right?”

“You’re not,” he pathetically grits out, hands forming tighter fists on metal railing, as if the moment he lets go of it they’ll find their way home to you.

You lean forward, breath washing over his crotch before you place a feathery kiss to his clothed tip, “I’m not?”

You are. You both know you are. A constant battle of control, an ever-growing fight for dominance.

He lets out something crossed between a sigh of relief and a whine of protest when you remove your lips and hand from him completely, only to let out a sharp yelp when your finger curls into the waistband of his boxers and pulls back the elastic, letting it snap back into place sharply.

“Say I am,” you barter, “Say I’m in control right now, and I’ll put my money where my mouth is.”

You don’t expect him to break so easily. You’ve underestimated just how tightly you’ve caught him beneath your thumb.

“You’re in control,” he gasps out, head hanging low to meet your gaze fully, “You’re in complete and utter fucking control of me. You’re calling all the shots, baby. You always are.”

He didn’t have to sweeten it up with baby, but it spurs you on.

You shove his boxers down, watching his cock spring out for the taking. And you do as you promised; you put your money where your mouth is.

You start softly, taking your time as you gingerly suck on his pretty pink tip as you had his thumb. Hardly hollowing your cheeks, letting your tongue circle his slit to gather up the precum. You let the taste of him completely cover your tongue, even hum in satisfaction when he lets out a loud groan. It motivates you, feeds your fervor as you let his tip fall from your mouth and trail the tip of your tongue down the underside of his cock. That vein you’d traced with your fingertip, yours for the taking, covered in a faint line of saliva as you let it rest on your forehead and graze your lips against his ballsack.

He can’t hide his shiver, even as his fist flies to his mouth to bite down on.

“Have I ever told you how cute you are?” you say low enough for just him. You can hear the sounds of traffic, a dog barking, birds singing — all reminders of the outside world and the looming threat of being caught. Warmth floods you again at the reminder of that threat, thighs clenching closer together in a desperate search of friction, “Just falling apart for me, acting so tough for so long until I got you alone.”

He whimpers your name. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You wrap your lips around the sensitive skin, sucking and pecking away on one side before moving to the next. His reaction throttles your movements. When his hand loses the fight of resistance, coming down to the back of your head, you laugh breathlessly against the now wet skin.

“Let me make you feel just how worthy you are to me,” you praise, pulling back finally, letting your nose brush against his sack as you do so. The hand that was once merely resting now tangles up in your hair — a warning.

You let the velvet skin of his cock drag down your cheek as each movement is deliberate, taking your time and in no rush. You want to savor him like this. Imprint him to memory.

You want to make him forget while making yourself remember.

You want to remember the way his hand flexes at the base of your skull when you finally kiss his tip once more, remember the way his abdomen tenses as you sink him further into your mouth. You want to remember every little sound that escapes him as he hits the back of your throat, as you constrict around him, as you moan around his base and the vibrations have him slipping out of control.

Your nails dig into his thighs to balance yourself, eyes watering as you look up at him. One subtle nod. He doesn’t need more than that.

Your jaw goes slack, trying to steady your breathing through your nose as you let him take control. His hips thrust at their own pace, gentle enough that he only grazes the back of your throat rather than bruise it. The issue is you want him to bruise it. You want him to mark you from the inside out. Until there’s no part of you left untouched by him.

You gag again, and he slows. Your fingers that grip his thighs immediately tap against him, and he mistakes it as a signal to pull back completely before you chase after him, pressing him onto your tongue until your lips are snug around his cock a mere inch from the base. Your nose is grazing those pubes in the dead center of all your love marks. Shapes of semi-permanent scars that whisper, you’re worth it to me. I want this. I want you.

The last thing on his mind was Chrissy Cunningham and her words alluding to him not being worth it.

You make sure of it when you finally release him from your mouth and begin to pump with an eager fist, ducking down and returning to pay attention to his balls once more. You nuzzle the soft skin, let the tips of your canines graze them before you suck them onto your tongue as you’d done his cock. He’s no longer containing his moans – they flow freely along with curse words, chants of your name, sounds you’d love to capture and play on repeat until the end of your days.

“Oh my God,” he groans out particularly loudly, “Fuck, baby. J-Just like that, please- Fuck. You’re doing so good for me. Such a good girl, just for me.”

Your hand is still wrapped around him, slowly coming up to squeeze hard around the tip as you whisper up to him, “Only for you.”

“Yeah? Only for me?”

You don’t know how to explain to him that it’s true: you’re only ever that mean for him, you’re only ever this eager for him, you’re only ever this desperate for him.

You don’t answer him with words. There are none. Instead, you take him back in your mouth, and you solely focus on bringing your deity to climax. The man you were worshiping, the man who was worth the ache in your knees that surely told you they would be left bruised, if not skinned.

“Is it just like you imagined?” you question as you break your lips off him. He’s close, leaking precum excessively and entire body taut, “Was it worth it? To picture this, to want this so badly?”

He almost can’t answer you, but somehow manages between pants, “It was. It is. You’re- fuck, you’re worth it.”

“Good,” you drop your hand from him, leaving him right on the edge as you rest both sticky palms on the tops of your thighs. You look up at him with relinquished control – the perfect image of submission, for him. “Then you get it. When I say you’re worth it, you get it.”

He’s clearly still reeling from you bringing him so close only to leave him hanging, teetering on a cliff as he stares you down.

His chest heaves as he questions, “What was it you wanted me to do earlier?” A deceiving hand comes down, tucking any baby hairs behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. One moment, his thumb is stroking a soft arch beneath your eye, the next that hand is pulling you up, “Make you?”

You know that if you hadn’t been so eager to follow his touch, you’d still be on your knees. Even as you watch him take the reins, you know you will always call the shots – just like he had said.

“You really think you can make me hate you?” you whisper once you’re standing tall in front of him, leaning your cheek into his touch.

“I shouldn’t have to make you hate me,” he corrects, the thumb back to gentle strokes, loosening the touch to be more tender once again, “You should already hate me.”

“Why?”

He flips positions immediately, your lower back now curving into the railing as he presses himself up against you, his achingly hard cock between your bodies, “Because of this. Because I always want you on your knees for me. Because of all the fucking filth I want to do to you. I want to bend you over, right here, and take you where anyone could see. I want to have you screaming my name loud enough that every single person on the streets of this city hears you.”

With each word, a knot ties inside of you, desperate for release.

“Because you’re fucking right,” he leans down, lips going straight for your neck, not looking you in the eyes, “All it fucking took was for you to get me alone for one night, and now? I’ll never get enough of you, I’ll never get clean of you,” he takes a deep breath, and suddenly, his lips latch onto you, sucking the skin between his teeth and biting hard. You can’t stop your fingers from latching onto his curls, tugging hard, body rolling into his. It hurts, it stings, you need more, “Everything changes. And that includes me.”

His face finally leaves the crook of your neck, pulling back to look you in your eyes. Doe brown eyes search yours, wide and honest and pleading. You let everything else melt away; for a moment, it’s only him and only you. The tension, the last twenty one hours, the last year — you let it disintegrate and focus on him.

It never mattered if everything changed.

It only matters that he’s changed, irreversibly, and so are you.

“How can I hate you for those things?” you press into him again, this time less desperate and more consciously, “Do it.”

“Do what?”

“All of it,” you trail a hand up his chest, “Every single thing you just said. Fucking- Do them. Bend me over, make me scream, change me,” your voice breaks, shaking with anticipation and need.

It’s all the encouragement he needs.

Every single thing he wanted, he craved, he does. A flurry of him properly discarding his jeans as he unbuttons yours to shove them down, spinning you and shoving you hard enough into the railing that it digs into your abdomen and leaves you breathless. You’re hardly aware of the way you step out of your pants and kick them to the side, looking out to the city skyline but not seeing it. It’s all a blur as you focus on the way your shirt rides up and he grabs your hips, bruising you finally as you have desperately needed.

You wanted to be left haunted by the end of these last few hours. You wanted to see him every time you looked in the mirror for the next week, to remember the map of where his body molded to yours. You want to dream of the way he stretches you as your underwear is ripped to the side. You want to be followed by the sounds of his skin slapping against yours as he snaps forward with intention.

Changing you. He has no idea that he’s already ripped you open from the inside out, has already rewired your entire chest and set flames to your brain.

Everything changes, and sometimes, everything is only two people. Just you. Just him. New versions that would have never met had it not been for this stupid fucking bet.

“Eddie,” you nearly sob, nearly choke on, his name burning in your throat like kindling embers.

His hand walks up your spine, trailing wildfire even with a layer of cotton between you two. Burning and singing away all you’d assumed for far too long. When he reaches the nape of your neck, he takes care in wrapping your hair around his wrist, tugging back hard and forcing you to stand from where the railing had been bending you in two.

“Say it again,” his lips brush you ear with every gasping breathing, timing with the way his cock is sliding in and out of your warmth, “Say it louder.”

“Fu-“ you start to moan, cut off by him pulling even harder on your hair, making his point so that you cry out, “Eddie!”

He thrusts harder. You swear you could feel him in your throat.

“Scream for me, baby,” an arm wraps around your torso, firm and solid for you to cling to rather than the warming metal of the railing, “Tell them who’s making you feel so good. Let them know. Be a good girl.”

Even when he claims to have control, it’s your actions, your reactions, that call the shots.

It’s the echo of your voice that spurs him on as you chant his name over and over, as if he were your only God. Primal worship dripping from every syllable. It’s the tremble in your thighs that has him pressing deeper into you, chest glued to your back as if he could never get you close enough. It’s the clench of your cunt around him, a vice that sucks him in as you drag him closer to the high he’s been dizzily chasing since you first dropped to your knees in front of him.

It’s you. You’ve changed him, as he’s changed you.

He pulls your hair until you rest the back of your head against his shoulder, back arching and feet still spread as he only maintains his quick and brutal pace, leaning down to whisper in your ear one last time.

“You know the real reason why you should hate me?” he grits out between to particularly forceful thrusts, “It’s not just because I don’t deserve you. It’s because I’ve wanted you for so long,” you’re right on the edge, fluttering around his cock as his movements stutter. A tell tale sign. “I- fuck, fuck. It’s- God, I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.”

You shatter around him in waves. Your entire body tenses as the words dig claws into you, piercing through vines and blooms. His body stills, warmth flooding you deep within as you continue to see stars. You can’t make a single sound, fingerprints surely left behind on where you clasp onto his forearm.

I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.

When the waves recede, when the high has passed its peak, you both freeze. Your body tensed in his hold, struggling to process what he’d just said.

Loved you.

He’s frozen in place, scrambling to figure out how to undo the damage just done.

I’ve loved you for so long.

He slips out of you, his spent dripping down your thighs. His forearm drops from you. Your hands don’t even try to stop him.

I’ll never be fucking worthy.

You should be worried of neighbors coming out to see the two of you on his balcony. If not worried, you should be embarrassed, or aching at the thought once again. Anything. You should feel something.

You turn slowly to him, entirely numb as you catch his rueful expression.

Loved you. He loved you.

His regret turns to pain as you whisper, “What did you just say?”

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

#my writing #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #if it's bad do not tell me #stranger things

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universalitgirlsblog2 · 3 months

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👛🖤SELF-CONCEPT👛🖤

CONTENTS OF THE POST

- MEANING OF SELF CONCEPT

- IS IT NECESSARY TO MANIFEST ?

- HOW TO IMPROVE IT ?

- SELF CONCEPT AFFIRMATIONS

- QUOTES ON SELF CONCEPT BY NEVILLE GODDARD

👛MEANING OF SELF CONCEPT

The way we perceive ourselves and the ideas we hold about our competencies and attributes is called self-concept. ( This definition is from my psychology textbook but it described self concept really well )

🖤IS IT NECESSARY TO MANIFEST ?

Self concept is not necessary when it comes to manifesting but it is very helpful and it does make manifesting more simple and easy.

👛HOW TO IMPROVE IT ?

💞Affirm !! Affirm and saturate your mind with those affirmations. The best way to reprogram your subconscious is through REPETITION. The more you repeat a thought / affirmation , the more dominant it will become.

👡Never underestimate the power of music. If you go on a spotify , just search self concept or confidence or that girl playlist & you will find so many songs which are filled with powerful and positive affirmations. Artists like Nicki Minaj , Le sserafim , Ariana Grande always include powerful affirmations in their songs. Listening to their songs enhanced my self concept.

💞Find a role model! Refer to my post on self concept icons , there are three parts in total . Click here - 1, 2 , 3. Suppose you want a self concept like Blair Waldorf , you can use her effect affirmations and a playlist dedicated to Blair and her vibes. Or maybe your self concept icon is Song Jia ? Then use affirmations based on her and listen to playlists dedicated to her. I have made affirmations for Jia too !! Your self concept icon can be anyone !!!! If you go on spotify and just search Blair , Regina, Song Jia or Thewizardliz etc you will find alot of playlists dedicated to them.

👡Create an alter ego and start acting like her . YOU ARE HER NOW !!! STOP IDENTIFYING WITH YOUR OLD SELF WHO HAD POOR SELFCONCEPT. THAT VERSION DOESN'T EXIST ANYMORE.

💞Already assume that you have a perfect self concept . Don't give the old story any attention or don't waste your energy on your old self. Stop affirming how you have a " bad " self concept and need to work on it. Just assume that you have a perfect self concept already.

👡Mental diet can do wonders. Whenever you have a thought that doesn't align with your perfect self concept. Ask yourself , "Does this thought align with my perfect self concept?" . If the answer is no , then reject it. Become aware of your thoughts and only entertain productive and useful thoughts. Have a positive SELF TALK

💞Realize how powerful you are. You control your reality. You tell your reality/ 3D what to do. Your circumstances , 3D or reality doesn't control you, you control them. Your inner world creates the outer world. Stop victimizing yourself. You are the main character and director of your life. Start acting like it.

Self concept work is supposed to be easy and fun . Don't complicate it.

🖤SELF CONCEPT AFFIRMATIONS

I have a strong and empowering self concept .

I am the creator of my reality

I control how my life unfolds

Everything always works out to my advantage

Circumstances and things are always rigged in my favor

I deserve the best in every area of my life

I am the girl who has it all

I am the It girl of my reality

Nothing is impossible in my world

I am good at everything

I am a master manifestor

I am the best

I am loved and valued

I am wanted by everyone

I am the prize

The world is my oyster

I am successful at everything I do

I have Lucky girl/ boy syndrome

I am the universe’s favorite child, so all my needs and wants are always met, instantaneously

I am powerful beyond limits

I am fearless, unstoppable , invincible and antifragile

I am the one with all the health, wealth, and happiness in the world.

I have a perfect self concept

I can maintain a good mental diet easily.

I am aware of my thoughts

I only think useful and productive thoughts

I am completely in love with myself

I always get what I want

I don't chase , i attract

I am a priority , queen / king , and chosen.

👛QUOTES ON SELF CONCEPT BY NEVILLE GODDARD

"Your opinion of yourself is your most important viewpoint. You are infinitely greater than you think you are.”

“Change your conception of yourself and you will automatically change the world in which you live. Do not try to change people; they are only messengers telling you who you are. Revalue yourself and they will confirm the change.”

“Stop trying to change the world since it is only the mirror. Man’s attempt to change the world by force is as fruitless as breaking a mirror in the hope of changing his face. Leave the mirror and change your face. Leave the world alone and change your conceptions of yourself. The reflection then will be satisfactory.”

“To reach a higher level of being, you must assume a higher concept of yourself."

“I AM wealthy, poor, healthy, sick, free, confined were first of all impressions or conditions felt before they became visible expressions. Your world is your consciousness objectified. Waste no time trying to change the outside; change the within or the impression; and the without or expression will take care of itself. When the truth of this statement dawns upon you, you will know that you have found the lost word or the key to every door. I AM (your consciousness) is the magical lost word which was made flesh in the likeness of that which you are conscious of being.”

"Everything depends upon our attitude towards ourselves. That which we will not affirm as true of ourselves cannot develop in our life.”

"Our present mental conversations do not recede into the past, they advance into the future to confront us as wasted or invested words.”

"The individual’s inner speech and actions attract the conditions of his life.”

“Nothing is impossible to you.”

“Live your life in a sublime spirit of confidence and determination.”

“The world cannot change until you change your conception of it. 'As within so without'.”

"" The part you play on the world's stage is determined by your conception of yourself ."

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goldsainz · 10 months

Text

GUESS WHO’S BACK? — one shot.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

MASTERLIST.

NOTE: first of i wanna say that this is not meant to diminish the treatment nyck got bc it is undoubtedly shitty (helmut marko you will pay for your crimes), i am just happy one of my fav drivers is back. this is eminem!daughter!reader an idea @lorarri let me use, all the lyrics and song she came up with are fantastic, i couldn’t have made this without them, so thank you lola!!!!

liked by danielricciardo, eminem and 3,082,719 others

yourusername i am so excited to announce my newest album “BADGER BEWARE”!! this project has been in the making for quite some time, it has the help of people i am very close with. and inspirations behind a lot of impacting moments in my life. which is why i am so happy that it is finally here and you can all enjoy it july 13th

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ynfan1 oh this is so about daniel

ynfan2 NEW MUSIC FINALLY😭😭

danielricciardo 💛💛💛

liked by yourusername and 96,053 others

⤷ danielfan1 acting as if the album isn’t gonna be dedicated to him

icespice gonna be bomb 🔥

scottyjames31 Claiming track 3 right now

⤷ danielricciardo No, it’s already claimed. Pick another.

ynfan3 july 13th cannot come any sooner

danielfan2 i hope y/n knows that she just sent me into cardiac arrest

danielfan3 MONZA MASH??? YOU’RE TELLING ME SHE MADE A SONG FOR HIS WIN IN MONZA

ynfan4 thank you eminem for the blessing that is y/n🙏

liked by charles_leclerc, bellahadid and 3,950,416 others

yourusername “BADGER BEWARE” is out now in all streaming platforms! i wanna take a moment to thank all the people who made this album possible, to the man who inspired this project and sat with me until sunrise writing down lyrics, to my friends who participated and helped me push through, but especially to all my fans who waited patiently for me to release my music in my own time. have fun and pls don’t take what i talk about too seriously (or do 😉)

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danielricciardo I would sit until sunrise every day with you

⤷ yourusername love the sentiment but you were asleep 90% of the time

⤷ danielricciardo But I was still there!

ynfan21 RED WINGS IS WILD

ynfan22 album of the year!!!

danielfan21 oh so this is a diss track to mclaren…

redbullracing Our playlist has been updated!

liked by yourusername and 107,368 others

ynfan23 when we needed her most she appeared🙏

ynfan24 damn she did not hold back

danielfan22 DANIEL AND Y/N BEST COUPLE ON THE GRID

“Show-stopping” is the expression Y/N wants to convey each time she sits down and starts to write her songs. It is a “big word”, as she puts it, but there is no other word that would fit the feeling she hopes to transmit through her music.

“I started writing “BADGER BEWARE” back in 2021, I think around august, and by the end of that year I had written 3 songs. I stopped writing because I thought of either scrapping the whole project or making a 4-5 song EP. Obviously that didn’t end up happening because now there are 10 songs, 1 intro and 1 outro. All those songs hold a different place in my heart and while they all form part of the genre of Rap, they’re heartfelt in their own special way.”

Rap is a genre Y/N is all too familiar with. With her father being Eminem, an icon to the genre and the 2000s — even now. She says that the choice is not arbitrary, that there is an influence she cannot deny, but chooses to embrace it rather than push it away.

She dedicated the album to her boyfriend of 3 years, Daniel Ricciardo, who was the initial inspiration behind it. “Danny listened to me rant about my ideas for hours, sat in different studios with me and suggested different things that made the whole experience different than anything I’d ever done before. He also introduced me to — now one of my good friends — Charles Leclerc, who plays piano and is the one that composed the music for both the intro and outro.”

When asked about her favourite songs she picked a couple because “there is no way I could choose just one”. There is an evident passion to her craft when it comes to Y/N, something not everyone in her field possesses quite as well as she does.

“HONEY, RED WINGS and SUMMER SMILE are probably my top 3. They were all written at such drastically different points of my life, about things that have practically nothing to do with each other but that are tied by a little string. Some people think I pick my singles because they’re my favourite, which is true because all my songs are my favourites! But most of all I pick them because they’re the ones that I felt most comfortable publicising, all the other songs in the album are like a little secret between my fandom and me.

“There are also songs which are more personal. MONZA MASH, for example, it’s a very hyper song but it still is about an event that was very emotional. TEARS OF THE SUN, is also an obvious one. My songs are about something, and if it makes you feel anything at all then I did my job right.”

CLICK HERE TO READ MORE!

liked by tayrussell, saweetie and 2,785,046 others

yourusername 2 THE MAX MV IS HERE!! i heard it was a fan favourite and had to deliver… there is no way to express my gratitude to you all for the support the album has gotten, so i guess this is my way!

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ynfan31 MY FAV SONG YES

⤷ danielfan31 “i turn up the heat to the max and watch them bitches squirm” ATE THAT SHIT UPPP

ynfan32 y/n mathers?? MORE LIKE Y/N MOTHER

danielricciardo She’s wearing red, next question!

⤷ yourusername LMAO??

⤷ maxverstappen1 Let him be, he’s a bit jet-lagged

ynfan33 literally fell down the stairs bc of this announcement

danielfan32 forget daniel… I WANT HER

ynfan34 as a y/n fan i am more than amazed at the amount of content we’re getting😭

ynfan35 it suddenly got real hot

⤷ ynfan36 we call that “the y/n effect”

ynfan37 LITERALLY RUN ME OVER!!!!!!

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sometimes-men-need-help-too · 7 months

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The Dadvocate called it the martyrdom of boy moms.

It's these videos where these mothers are speaking about how they are teaching their sons, usually under eight years old, some sort of basic life lesson anyone should know all for the sole purpose of making life easier for her son's future partner.

Payal Desai has nearly 40 videos on her tiktok/instagram that are like that. Her playlist is titled no dusty sons. Here is an example of a video she's posted:

She's not the only one. The Dadvocate reacted to another woman who made a tiktok where she said she was showing her son to look for things so her daughter doesn't have to use her brain space to know where everything is. And I'm sure there's tons more if you look for them

Now one of my issues is that she's blatantly exploiting her sons. Because of her no dusty sons videos, she has been on TV at least once, has had articles written about her and what she's doing, and has a lot of supportive comments like way to go mama, you're a queen/icon/legend, as a girl mom THANK YOU.

I despise it when parents use their kids like this. This woman is showing her kids' faces to countless strangers online. She has 289.9k followers and her account is public. It's bad enough to post about your child on a platform like facebook without caution, let alone what she's doing. And a lot of people are overlooking it because they think she's promoting a good message so it's 'fine.'

The other problem I have are these "lessons." A good majority of them are things she should be teaching them anyway, not directed at a future partner. She has another video where she's teaching her son to brush his teeth and tongue so his partner doesn't have to deal with a man who didn't learn the basics of dental hygiene. You don't teach them to have a good diet or to brush their teeth because it could be inconvenient for their future partner, you do it because it's good for their health. You do it because future adults need to know that sort of thing.

#mens rights #misandry #anti misandry #double standards

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

Text

still into you | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | bonus smut scene

summary: the bathtub smut scene i robbed us of. a continuation of chapter one.

warnings: 18+ chapter -- minors dni, smut, unprotected sex in long term relationship, p in v, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), spanking (just twice, lol) she/her pronouns & fem anatomy mentioned

word count: 2.2k

listen to: holy - king princess (playlist here)

a/n: can we talk about this iconic and incredible banner that @allthefandomstogether made for this story?! thank you so freaking much. it is pure perfection. anyways in honor of the bear season 2 teaser being released, i need a cold shower after writing this send help.

read: chapter one

“Let’s put it on the list… for when we’re ready to move to a new place,” he suggests, quietly.

“Somewhere with a big tub?” you ask, only sort of surprised by his request.

“Yeah.”

You turn your head to look at him, as Carmy presses a searing kiss to your lips. You feel his hand snake between your legs and you begin to understand exactly why he’s enjoying this whole bath thing.

“As much as I’m enjoying this…” he whispers against your lips. “Think you maybe want to get out of this tub…”

Another kiss.

“… dry off…”

You slide your tongue against his as his fingertips move higher up your inner thigh, earning a hiss of pleasure from you.

“…not put our clothes back on?”

And then he’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues his exploration. Your head is spinning, and it’s not just the hot water that makes you feel as if your soul was set aflame.

“Yes,” you whimper as he fingers begin their exploration. He slides them through your folds and you throw your head back, grateful that his shoulder catches you.

You relax into Carmy, hissing as he dips his index finger inside of you. Your breathing begins to become heavier as he continues touching you, alternating between sliding his index finger inside of you, then dragging his rough, calloused fingertips up and down your core. His mouth pressed against the shell of your ear, his tongue leaving patterns in their wake. Carmy nips at your earlobe before murmuring a few words, his voice heavy with lust:

“You trust me?”

“Always.”

He waits a beat before saying:

“Good. I wanna make you cum on my fingers first, pretty girl.”

You feel his words shoot straight to your core as you clench around the combination of his index and middle finger he’s now slipped inside of you.

“If that’s okay with you.”

Even after all these years, you love how eager to please he still is.

“Yes, baby,” you say, a smile in your voice. “Very okay.”

Carmy smirks contently.

The fingers he has inside of you journey up through your folds, expertly finding your clit as he begins to rub gentle and deliberate circles. You sigh his name, letting the man you love make you feel absolutely incredible. He buries his face in the crevice of your neck, gently biting then soothing the little marks he leaves with his lips and tongue.

“Carmen,” you pant, suddenly remembering that you’ll be in front of people tomorrow. “Not right there.”

“Hm?” he hums, only half-focusing on what you’ve just said.

His mouth moves further down the top of your shoulders, as he begins to speed up his ministrations, earning another cry from you.

“Don’t want everyone to see what I do to you? How I make you feel?”

You cry out in response as he bites your shoulder, a little harder this time.

“Somewhere I can hide under my chef whites please,” you practically beg him as he begins to speed up the pace of his fingers.

“Think I can do that,” he murmurs into your skin.

Carmy lifts his head off of your shoulder, leaning back against the tall walls of the deep bathtub. His other hand moves around your waist, pressing your back against him, and you feel how absolutely hard he’s become. As his hand comes up to play with your nipples, he stops any movement with his fingers, sliding them back down to your entrance.

You buck your hips up into his hand, impatiently.

“This what you want, pretty girl?” he asks, his voice husky.

His fingertips circle your entrance, but he’s still not where you want him. You let out an impatient groan, whimpering out his name. He knows he’s teasing you and there’s a part of him that loves hearing you beg.

Loves hearing how much you need him.

“Yes, baby,” you pant. “Please. I just want you inside of me.”

And he loves the way it sounds when you say it.

He slides his fingers back inside of you, in and then out of you at a dangerously slow pace, earning a sob from you.

“Just wanna make you feel good, sweetheart.”

And just like that, his hand on your breast begins squeezing, pushing you against his chest, desperate to have you closer to him. He continues fucking you with his fingers with the hand between your legs, as you let go, enjoying this too much to have a care in the world about anything else.

“You are,” you breathe out. “So good, Bear. You make me feel so good.”

Carmy lets out soft moans into your skin as he mouth returns to your shoulder. He’s bucking his hips against you as his fingers find that spongy spot inside of you. You let out a loud moan the minute he hits it, his lips curling into a smile against your skin.

“Right there?”

“Yes.”

Carmy curls his fingers, making a ‘come hither’ motion with them, and you can no longer contain your moans. He knows you’re on the verge and he has no intention of stopping you. The sound of your moans, the way you pant his name, how desperate you are to cum – it’s like crack to him. It all goes straight to his cock, hard and weeping, yearning to be inside of you.

But he’s not ready for that.

Not until he makes you cum first.

He’s a man on a mission with only one goal in mind.

“You gonna cum, baby?”

“Carmen,” you whimper.

“Yes, god. Please let me cum.”

He takes you higher.

And higher.

You feel it like a wave reaching its peak. There’s a tension building, so close to snapping, and as it does, you feel the waves of pleasure crash within you as you let out a loud moan. You’re writhing against your boyfriend as he presses your back to his chest, and you’re gripping the edge of the tub with your hand closest to it. Carmy’s not letting you go anywhere. He wants you exactly where he has you, his hand between your legs, completely at his mercy.

As you begin to come down, your mouth feels dry from all the panting and gasping you’ve been doing. You swallow, and Carmy begins to release you, his grip loosening around your waist.

“What was that… about getting out of this tub? Drying off?” you ask, unsure of how you’ve managed to get words out after that.

“Not putting our clothes back on?” Carmy completes your sentence.

“Uh huh.”

In an instant, you’re standing up in the tub, letting the hot bath water fall down your naked body. Your nipples stand erect against the round, full shape of your breasts as Carmy follows suit, making his way to a standing position. You can’t help but notice his extreme erect dick just begging to be inside of you and the thought alone sends chills down your spine. You’re both quick to towel off, only half way drying your bodies off before Carmy is walking you back to the messy hotel bed from your nap earlier that day.

And he’s very much looking forward to messing up this bed in another way with you.

You fall into position like it’s second nature: Carmy on top of you, your legs wrapped around his waist as he grinds against your wet heat. He reaches down, ready to guide his hard, leaking cock inside of you.

“Wait,” you say.

Carmy stops, his eyes wide.

“I want something else,” you say again.

He nods as you sit up, shifting him onto his back. As you climb on top of your boyfriend, your knees straddling his hips, you crash your lips into his. You’re sucking on his top lip, then sliding your tongue against his, then dragging his bottom lip between your teeth as you begin to make your way down his gorgeously sculpted chest.

“Baby, what’re you-?” he begins, trail off as you begin to kiss down his chest. You take your time, allowing your mouth to leave little love bites across his chest, down his torso, then snaking your tongue across his hip bones.

He hisses in anticipation, as you reach down, grabbing his length in one hand. You pause, looking up at him, his eyes catching yours. With a wicked grin on your face, you lick just the tip of him, causing his eyes to close as he sighs on in pleasure.

“Ffffuck,” he groans, as you begin to take him into your mouth.

You slide your mouth from the head, all the way down his shaft, earning another heavy sigh from Carmy. Your mouth meets your hand, then you’re pulling back up, allowing your hand to follow, getting his dick ready to be inside of you. You use your hand and your mouth in tandem, and Carmy’s trying his best not to buck his hips into your mouth too hard. His head is thrown back, and he reminds himself to open his eyes, wanting to memorize the way you look while going down on him.

He gathers your hair to one side so that he can see you as you alternate through movements, knowing just what he likes.

Suck, lick, sliding your mouth down his length to meet your hand again. The gentlest squeeze…

And then you’re sitting up, making your back up his body and guiding his achingly hard length into you. Carmy’s hands go to your hips as you sink down onto him, muttering something inaudible as he makes you feel so incredibly full. Your hands go to his chest, propping yourself up as you begin to move your hips, his eyes rolling back.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as you ride him. “What did I do to deserve this?”

He knows he’s been an ass all week and he thinks you’re making him feel better than he deserves.

You shake your head, moving your hips forward and back at an even pace.

“Just wanna help you relax.”

He moves a hand from your hips to your ass, raising up before coming back down with a loud smack.

It’s just an encouragement, an ask for more.

“Yeah?” he asks, feeling the fire in his belly grow stronger and stronger.

You nod, beginning to ride him faster as he spanks you again causing you to throw your head back. You can feel his hips bucking up into you with a sense of urgency, as you meet each one with your own. Your hands go to your hair, just searching for something to hold onto because the way he makes you feel should be illegal. Carmy’s bouncing you on top of his hard length, and he’s hitting that spot so deep inside of you that you have to shut your eyes so tightly you’re seeing stars.

Carmy doesn’t realize how wound tight he’s been all week – not until he’s watching you move on top of him, all feelings of worry and stress out of sight and out of mind.

And then he’s pulling you down to him, keeping the fierce pace he’s set for the two of you. You roll your hips against his as he crashes his lips against yours again.

“Please just let me fuck you,” he murmurs in between kisses.

You’re nodding with a, “Yes,” before he’s flipping you over onto your back, still inside of you.

Carmy sits up, pulling your legs around his waist, slowing the pace of his movements down. He thinks the sight of himself disappearing inside of you will drive him absolutely insane, and he can’t tear his eyes away.

In. Out. In. Out.

Then he’s folding his body on top of yours, hiking one of your legs up higher on his hip so that he can hit that spot so deep inside of you that drives you wild.

“Fuck, Carmy!” you cry.

With the way you’re squeezing around him, he can tell you’re close. And so is he. He’s driving into you, one hand tangled in your hair as he buries his face into your neck. His other hand meets yours, interlacing his fingers between yours, pinning you down to the bed. His thrusts are deep and hard and you’re gasping – holding onto his shoulders, his biceps, and part of him that you can hold onto – as he moves on top of you.

“Are you gonna cum?” you ask, barely able to get the words out.

“Fuck,” Carmy howls as he lifts his head up.

“Yes.”

His lips are back on yours for the messiest, wettest, hungriest kiss before he buries his face in your neck once again. His dick hits all of the right places, and you’re crying out his name, clamping down around him as he brings you to your climax. Carmy fucks you through it, his thrusts becoming more chaotic as he chases his high too.

You’re practically hanging onto his arms for dear life as he gets closer. He’s driving into you, and you're losing your mind as his hand squeezes yours. Carmy lets out a few grunts as he cums, finally slowing down the pace of hips, before coming to a halt.

“Holy shit,” you say, shaking your head.

You’re both flustered, sweaty messes, running your tongue over your kiss-swollen lips.

He chuckles, lifting his head up to look at you.

“Hi," he says.

“Hi,” you say back with a smile.

Carmy moves up your body, leaning his forehead against yours, before leaving a small kiss on your nose.

“I needed that.”

You giggle, “Me fucking too.”

He gives you a half smile in return.

“C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

read: chapter two

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @carmensberzattos

#carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto imagines #make my heart surrender #still into you

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vintagetvstars · 10 days

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Nichelle Nichols Vs. Yvonne Craig

Propaganda

Nichelle Nichols - (Star Trek) - She speaks for herself. Legendary, iconic, at the forefront of feminism and civil rights in the 60s, she is a triple threat who did so much more. She volunteered from 1977 to promote recruitment diversity within NASA, including some of the first female and ethnic minority astronauts. Martin Luther King Jr. compared her work on Star Trek as a 'vital role model' to the civil rights marches. She refused to be dismissed, fought for visibility and shone whilst doing so. As a woman in stem, and simply a woman she means the world and stars above to me.

Yvonne Craig - (Batman, Star Trek) - 7 year old me didn't know she was a lesbian but she sure knew she liked batgirl

Master Poll List of the Hot Vintage TV Ladies Bracket

Additional propaganda below the cut

Nichelle Nichols:

She is the original badass babe. She was a black woman in a leading role on TV in the 60s, a trailblazer for black actresses for years to come. She is so beautiful and so awesome.

she's fantastic. have you seen her? paved the way for black actresses on TV even while her lines and scenes were being cut and improvised the most iconic uhura line in the series. (sulu: "I'll save you, fair maiden!" uhura, pushing him away: "sorry, neither!") she's incredibly talented and it's a crime the show didn't give her more screen time (or make her sing more often because she also has a beautiful voice!)

“Sorry, neither” in response to “fair maiden” was ad libbed by her. There’s a lot more I could say but what else do you need??

A sci-fi icon!

She was such a trailblazer, and Uhura was such an important character for so many people to be able to see on TV. Apparently Mae Jemison (the first African American woman to go into space) cited her as a reason she wanted to become an astronaut. She was just an absolute legend!

The story of Martin Luther King telling her not to quit Star Trek gives me chills. Representation matters. “Thank you so much, Dr. King. I’m really going to miss my co-stars.” Dr. King's smile, Nichols recalled, vanished from his face. "He said, 'What are you talking about?'" the actress explained. "I told him. He said, 'You cannot,' and so help me, this man practically repeated verbatim what Gene said. He said, 'Don’t you see what this man is doing, who has written this? This is the future. He has established us as we should be seen. 300 years from now, we are here. We are marching. And this is the first step. When we see you, we see ourselves, and we see ourselves as intelligent and beautiful and proud.' He goes on and I’m looking at him and my knees are buckling. I said, 'I…, I…' And he said, 'You turn on your television and the news comes on and you see us marching and peaceful, you see the peaceful civil disobedience, and you see the dogs and see the fire hoses, and we all know they cannot destroy us because we are there in the 23rd Century.'"

She shared the first interracial kiss on Star Trek, helped propel real life African American women into space-related careers, and looks divine in a mini skirt.

HOW DID UHURA WALK BACKWARDS SO FAR??? WOW!

#vintage tv stars poll #tv ladies 1 #nichelle nichols #yvonne craig

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oswildin · 3 months

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MY LOKI SPOTIFY PLAYLISTS

(and marvel related playlists)

POV PLAYLISTS (YOU X LOKI)

pov: enemies to lovers with loki laufeyson (it’s complicated) // “would you bleed for me?” - halsey // features artists like: florence + the machine, billie eilish, maneskin, rihanna, arctic monkeys (indie rock/dark pop)

pov: best friends to lovers with loki laufeyson // “pauses then says ‘you’re my bestfriend’, you knew what it was, he is in love.” - taylor swift // features artists like: mitski, lorde, the 1975, lana del rey, taylor swift (indie pop/ballads/soft pop)

pov: you’re in love with loki laufeyson despite everything (angst) // “but you love me wrong.” - allie x // features artists like: marina, melanie martinez, aurora, olivia rodrigo, miley cyrus, allie x (indie pop/soft pop/power ballads)

pov: loki wants to do “terrible, awful things… to you” // “think I need someone older.” - isabel larosa // features artists like: she wants revenge, beyonce, the neighbourhood, the weeknd, k.flay, isabel larosa (electronic pop/dark pop)

pov: relaxing with loki laufeyson // “calm again, i feel warm again.” - aurora // features artists like: mitski, the 1975, taylor swift, billie eilish, bleachers, aurora (soft pop/acoustic pop/indie)

pov: you domesticated loki laufeyson and now you’re dancing in the kitchen // “if you dance, I’ll dance.” - lana del rey // features artists like: abba, børns, adele, the goo goo dolls, harry styles, lana del rey (mixed genres/feel good/ballads)

pov: you give loki an ipod with songs you think he’d like // “one day I’ll watch as you’re leaving cause you got tired of my scheming.” - taylor swift // features artists like: rina sawayama, twenty one pilots, marina, billie eilish, lady gaga, taylor swift (mixed genres/pop/soft pop)

LOKI CHARACTER PLAYLISTS

songs that are loki coded // “the truth is you have to be soft to be strong.” - marina // features artists like: panic at the disco, melanie martinez, linkin park, idkhbtfm, aurora, marina (mixed genres/pop/rock/electronica)

songs that are thor!loki coded (don’t ask me why) // “tired of being what you want me to be.” - linkin park // features artists like: twenty one pilots, royal & the serpent, willow, yungblud, aurora, linkin park (indie rock/indie pop)

songs that are avengers!loki coded (don’t ask me why) // “live a villain, die an icon.” - ashnikko // features artists like: halsey, poppy, demi lovato, rina sawayama, maneskin, ashnikko (rock/dark pop)

songs that are dark world!loki coded (don’t ask me why) // “you set my soul alight.” - muse // features artists like: depeche mode, nine inch nails, mother mother, my chemical romance, muse (rock/dark pop/indie)

songs that are ragnarok!loki coded (don’t ask me why) // “I know I created myself.” - aurora // features artists like: idkhbtfm, imagine dragons, maneskin, marina, gerard way, aurora (indie rock/indie pop)

songs that make me think of s1 of loki // “I don’t wanna be a monster anymore.” - rina sawayama // features artists like: gorillaz, grimes, twenty one pilots, blondie, lorde, rina sawayama (indie pop/dark pop/rock)

songs that make me think of s2 of loki // “all of this is temporary.” - halsey // features artists like: aurora, paramore, poppy, taylor swift, coldplay, halsey (indie pop/rock/ballads)

MARVEL POV PLAYLISTS (YOU X MARVEL)

pov: you’re the villain in the mcu

pov: you’re in the spider-verse

pov: you travel the galaxy

pov: dancing in a bar on contraxia

pov: you’re the new avenger

OTHER PLAYLISTS

songs that sylvie listens to in her 1982 pickup truck

songs that are sylvie laufeydottir coded (don’t ask me why)

songs that remind me of sylki

songs that remind me of lokius

pov: loki is drunk at a sakaarian party & the grandmaster is the dj (💅🏻🏳️‍🌈🍸)

loki laufeyson (guardians of the galaxy version)

#loki #loki playlist #marvel playlist #loki x y/n #loki x reader #loki x you #loki pov #marvel pov #mcu pov #mcu playlist #spotify playlist #character playlist #marvel x you #loki laufeyson #loki marvel

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joesheistyy · 1 year

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Driving in his Benz - Joe Burrow

I've never been a taylor swift girlie but midnights is iconic and I was inspired by vigilante shit sooooo here you go :) more angst? yes please! ending in some fluff? count me in!

2.2k words || cussing || some harsh grabbing

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Of course your evening was spent bickering with Joe. This was the second night in a row you two just couldn’t get on the same page about a handful of things. Once again going to bed angry with each other, backs facing each other.

In your late high school days, the way you’d cool down from heightened emotions was by going for a drive. Could you do this in Cincinnati? Sure, but it wasn’t as soothing as driving back roads in southern Indiana. It was definitely much preferred to do during the day. As you fell asleep, you made a plan to get up and just drive to get your head on straight when you awoke.

When you woke up, you did not have the energy to deal with Joe. Needing to be caffeinated before any hard thoughts came to mind, you decided to go to Panera to grab a coffee and a charged tea. Of course those drinks would be spaced out throughout the day, you just needed an out for the morning. This would probably be another item Joe would want to bicker about-your caffeine intake.

You put on your favorite oversized crewneck and Lululemon leggings before you left the bedroom, making as little noise as possible. What you didn’t know was that your stirring before getting out of bed woke Joe up. He wanted to start the day off on a good note, hoping to talk things through over breakfast, but you had already gone down the stairs and grabbed the keys to his new Benz.

The sleek black car was parked in the garage, windows yet to be tinted. You lifted the garage door before turning on the car and picking out your “bad bitch” playlist. Joe was able to hear the garage door open and close, he knew driving was your go to outlet to clear your head, so he let it go.

After an hour or so, you had picked up your drinks and were driving with the windows down, cool spring air flowing throughout the nice car. You pulled up to a stop light, blasting Vigilante Shit by Taylor Swift and singing along with the song, dancing in a way that made you feel hot. What you didn’t know was that the car stopped next to you knew who you were and snapped a video of you in your own little world. Swiftly posting it to twitter.

Joe was sitting on the couch at home, almost in a wallowing state. He just wanted to talk things through in a calm manner because he was just as tired of bickering as you were. Little did he know, the video of you was blowing up on twitter. His phone pinged from his pocket with the special text tone for his manager.

Yo dude, what is your girl up to? There’s a video of her blowing up all over twitter.

Joe had no clue what you were doing, opting to trust you to clear your head without causing a scene.

I’ll handle this. Was Joe’s response to his manager.

You continued on the windy back roads, blasting Girls in the Hood by Megan Thee Stallion. A text came through the car’s ApplePlay.

What the fuck are you doing, y/n? Get your ass home right now. The car read out to you.

You let out an aggressive sigh, opting for that over tears. “Hey Siri, text Joey Boy back and respond with you don’t own me, don’t tell me what to do.”

That ring states otherwise honey. What made you think you could take my car without asking? Get home now, it’s about time we sat down and talked.

These words making your heart sink to just about you asshole. Your anxiety had been heightened all week with the constant bickering. The phrase or anything close to we need to talk always seemed to make any situation worse in your opinion.

“Hey Siri, respond to Joey Boy and say Fine, as you wish.”

You headed home, opting to take the longest route possible. Pulling into the neighborhood of your shared home, you took some deep breaths to try to calm your anxiety. As you opened the garage door to park the car, you saw an angry faced Joe waiting at the door to enter your house.

“Y/n, what the fuck?” he emphasized in a stern tone, shooting daggers with his eyes.

“What? I really don’t understand what you’re so upset about,” you huffed out, tossing your hands in the air as you approached the door to enter the house.

“You don’t understand? How could you not understand?” he led you into the house, anger obvious not only his voice but in his tense back and shoulders.

“Joe, I just wanted to clear my head. Why can't I do anything without getting bitched at?” You retorted, hanging the keys on the hook by the garage door.

“Don’t start this with me, y/n. I’m not happy with you,”

“Yeah, obviously,” You rolled your eyes, setting your drink down on the counter.

Joe swiftly turned around, once again glaring at you in a way you had never seen before. His blue eyes were dark, eyelashes framing his gorgeous orbs in a scary yet beautiful way. His fist slammed on the counter as he began to take a deep breath. You could only imagine what was coming.

“Oh my god, y/n,” He began as he rolled his eyes and huffed, “do you have any idea what you’ve done? First, you take my car without asking me, then you get caught and recorded in my car that you didn't ask to use, singing some stupid ass song about driving in a Benz or whatever the fuck it was, dancing and looking like an absolute fucking idiot,” he continued as his cheeks and neck turned a red as bright as a rose. Arms flying around as another outlet for his anger.

You looked at him with emptiness filling your mind and body. He never had a problem before with you taking his car out. Plus, he always thought your singing and dancing was goofy, who did he think he was to call you all these things?

Looking up at him yet trying to avoid his scary eyes, you could see his breath hitch in his chest. “Babe, I-” you began.

“Don’t babe me, you're in the dog house with me right now,” he said, beginning to walk away.

“So what? We’re not gonna talk about this? You’re just gonna bitch at me over something that I do on a normal basis? Alright Burrow, have your way for now. I’m done,” you directed yourself to the stairway. Joe swiftly came up behind you and grabbed your wrist with haste. That’s gonna hurt later.

“No no, you’re not done. We're talking about this now,” Joe forced you to follow him, pushing you down to the couch which caused you to swiftly get up. Inches from his chest, you look up at him, finger poking his chest with as much force as you could handle. “Don’t you ever handle me like that again,” you jabbed at his chest. Pushing through his strong stance, you headed toward the stairs determined to get away from him.

Joe didn’t chase after you this time, he had practice in an hour and decided he didn’t want to get into it with you. His practice bag was in your shared bedroom where you had locked yourself in. As you heard his footsteps approach, you grabbed his bag and tossed it onto the floor outside the door, making sure to close it with a harsh nature. You could hear him sigh as he retrieved his grey bag from the floor. You took a couple deep breaths before sliding down the door, blocking any entrance with your weight.

You hated to cry in front of Joe, so once you heard the garage door close, you felt safe to come out of your little pity party. Heading downstairs to give yourself a change of scenery, you plopped down on the couch where just a few minutes ago, you were scolding Joe for grabbing you in a way that was uncomfortable and not in a sexual way. Tears beginning to fall uncontrollably. You pulled your legs up to your chest, opting to put your crewneck over them so you could curl into a little ball and cry.

You soon heard footsteps. What the fuck, Joe is at practice, isn’t he? You thought to yourself as you lifted your head to look around and see if anyone was there. After determining that you were alone, you went back to your little sob fest. All the emotions from the previous bickering fights catching up to you. The way Joe yelled at you really did your emotions in.

Footsteps approached you and you felt a weight dip down on the couch next to you. You jolted out of your crewneck, craning your neck to your left to view Joe sat down next to you. You blinked a few times to try to clear your cloudy eyes as you pulled your body out of your crewneck ball. He sighed and tried to scoot a bit closer to you, only causing you to scoot further away from him.

“Can we please not do this right now?” you sobbed. He sighed again.

“Honey we need to talk,” he began. There were those words again.

“You have practice and you need to go,” you began. He reached out to grab your hand. Your left hand to be exact. That alone scared you more than anything considering the absolute rock sitting on your ring finger.

“I texted Zac that I’m gonna be late. You’re more important to me right now,” he stated as his features softened. You scooted into him a little more, opting to rest your head onto his shoulder. The lack of physical touch lately didn’t help with all the bickering. Your sobs wracked your ribs. Joe knew you hated to cry in front of him, but it was inevitable after the recent events.

“Joe I can’t stand this bickering and arguing anymore,” you sobbed again. He took an opportunity to give you a soothing back rub.

“I know, y/n. I can’t either. Everything has just been eating me up and building up lately and we need to address all this,” he said, slowly turning to look at you.

“Why do you yell at me the way you do, Joe? It’s so hard to want to be kind back when I get talked to the way I do when you’re upset,” you spoke with shaky breaths. “I feel like I have to defend myself to you when you raise your voice with me. That’s why when we bicker, it feels never ending. How am I supposed to stand there and take criticism for every little disagreement or every little thing that makes you upset?”

“I don’t know, babe. I just get so lost in my own emotions that sometimes things just come out that way,” he began.

“No Joe, they always come out that way. But when you start attacking me for things like singing and dancing, that’s when it goes overboard. You can’t keep criticizing me for things I do when you’re worked up,” you said with a more stern tone.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I’m going to try to be better,” he said, grabbing at your hand again and fiddling with your ring. “This ring is supposed to represent my undying love for you and I’ve done the opposite. I promise I’m going to work to be a better fiancee so I can be the best husband. I love you y/n and I can’t lose you. I’m so sorry for the way the cards have fallen lately. I deserve to be blamed and torn into,” he said, looking down in embarrassment.

“Babe I’m not gonna bitch back at you the way you yelled at me earlier. While I don’t appreciate the way I’ve been talked to lately, you don’t deserve to be talked to like that. I just need your help in talking things out before shit hits the fan, got it?” you looked at him, waiting for him to look into your eyes and agree. He nodded, leaning in to kiss your forehead. You both sighed as you leaned into his chest for comfort. He held you so close and tight like it was the thing he knew how to do best. You both needed that tight embrace.

“No more talking to each other like that, got it?” you pulled away as you spoke.

“Of course, future Mrs. Burrow. We can settle things like adults because we are adults,” he showed a soft smile.

“Now go to practice, Burrow. You shouldn’t keep coach and the team waiting. I’ll be here to hug you later. I’m just glad we talked at least something out. We can talk more out when you get back,” you held out your pinky and wrapped his into yours.

“I love you, y/n. I’ll be back later,” he got up and rushed out the door. You sighed and leaned back into the couch in hope that more talking to each other would help cure all your anxieties. Maybe even going for a drive, together...

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lmk if y'all want a part two, I've got some ideas up my sleeve!!!!!!

#joe burrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine #joey b #joe burr #bengals quarterback #bengals #nfl #nfl imagine #angst #fluff #god he is just so sexy

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now-showing-at-the-hawk-events · 10 months

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Now Showing At The Hawk

🎟MetalSandwich Movie Mania🎟

Welcome to the MetalSandwich/Harringroveson Movie Event! I hope everyone will have a good time and make new friends as we create or appreciate the cool stuff that comes out of this event!

After a movie night with some friends on discord where we watched The Lost Boys, the idea came about to me to have a Week, seven days with a prompt for each day, with the date and prompts announced months in advance so everyone has time to make something for it!

The prompts for it will be focused on movies from the 70s/80s/90s! After an interest check and vote, the date decided was October 10th-16th! I hope everyone will have enough time and fun for this to become an annual event!

Tag for the event is #MetalSandwichMovies23

The Official Prompts!

(I decided to skip voting for this in the name of time and energy, but I was as thorough as I could be to ensure there was something for everyone!)

Oct 10th - Free Musical/Animated Movie Day

Oct 11th - Free SciFi/Fantasy Movie Day

Oct 12th - Free Action/Adventure Movie Day

Oct 13th - Free Romance/Historical Movie Day

Oct 14th - Free Horror/Creature Feature Movie Day

Oct 15th - Free Genre Movie Day

Oct 16th - Iconic Movie Day: (The Lost Boys/Labyrinth/Rocky Horror Picture Show/Etc)

Read more for Rules & FAQs

What is accepted for the event?

Anything! Fan fiction, fan art, photo edits, moodboards, fan videos, playlists, cosplays, you name it! Just let your creativity go!

Is there a minimum word count or something similar for other projects?

Not at all! Go wild, write drabbles, do anything!

I will ask that any videos include captioning and images include alt text to be considerate towards our friends with hearing and auditory processing difficulties!

How strict do we have to stick to the prompts?

Good question! With the variety and freedom of the prompts I hope you'll have plenty of wiggle room. And maybe you don't feel any movie au in particular but still want to participate? Maybe the boys just have a movie night watching a movie of your choice or they're actors! Who knows, you do! ;) I just want everyone to have fun. If you'd like any movie suggestions, let us know and we'll make a post!

I might run a little late in posting? Is that okay?

Life happens and it sucks! The dates are good for organization and giving everyone a clear schedule to try to keep to. But anything made specifically for this event will be accepted as long as it is posted sometime in October or early November. Otherwise, there's always next year!

I'd like to chat, maybe share ideas, or just show love for our favorite guys! Is there a discord?

Yes! It's 18+ and you can join us here!

Cool! Is there a Twitter?

Also yes! Give us a follow and share!

https://twitter.com/atthehawkevents

What kind of ratings and content are allowed?

This is an explicit, kink, and Dead Dove friendly event as we are dealing with many kinds of movies, including horror! Just make sure to tag appropriately. If you're unsure and need help with tagging, reach out via DM and we'll give our best suggestions.

#metalsandwich #harringroveson #MetalSandwichMovies23 #harringroveson event #MetalSandwich event #billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #stedilly

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whatdoidosatoru · 1 month

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First Date (Keisuke Baji x OC) chapter 1

PART 1 of The Only Exception

experimental emo!baji fic (Baji x OC that's just reader but with a name because i'd rather shoot myself than write y/n)

part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - ao3

Both, Baji and OC are into alternative music and I've tried to not describe OC physically so she can be anyone :)

pairing: Keisuke Baji x reader

word count: 7.2k

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

I don't know how to tag but here goes nothing: oral sex (both receiving), fingering, slight dirty talk, face-fucking, penetrative sex, bathroom sex, slight asshole!baji, fem!reader

The met at a night club and turn it into a whole thing, songs to go with the story:

𝆕 Playlist

18 - Anarbor

First Date - blink-182

Bring Me To Life - Evanescence

The River - Good Charlotte

Ocean Avenue - Yellowcard

Sex on Fire - Kings of Leon

DONTTRUSTME - 3OH!3

Cherrypie - Warrant

Rebel Love song - Black Veil Brides

The day of the event finally came. I’d been looking forward to Emo Nite for almost a month now, ever since my best friend called me screaming that the new date had been announced. You’d think being in university with the event manager would help stifle the excitement over it since we could get any information about it whenever we wanted, but it’d been months since the two of us had gone out anywhere. It was the only thing on my mind as I dragged myself through my lectures, 3 pm could not have come any sooner. Finally, as the last lecture of the day came to an end, I started packing up my notes, trying to figure out what I was going to wear.

My apartment was a short walk away from the university, the club, and our favourite gym, therefore this entire day was made that much easier as I didn’t have to depend on public transportation to get anywhere.

Just as I opened the front door to my place that I shared with my best friend and roommate, I was attacked by my favourite playlist blasting from her room, the playlist I had made for her to get in the zone for these kinds of parties, all consisting of the music I had got moaned at for listening to in my teens. It very obviously was not a phase, mom.

“You should put on 3OH!3” I let myself into her room.

“I don’t know what that means!!” She was frantically going through her wardrobe looking for something to wear.

“Give me the phone, trust me,” I said with a wink.

I clicked on the song and noticed some of my own clothes strewn over her bed, evidence that both of us currently had the same issue to decide on. I loved showing her the music I u̶s̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ listen to as she never got to experience peak emo and scene culture in the town where she grew up.

“What the fuck kind of line is ‘I’m a vegetarian and I ain’t fucking scared of him’”

“Mai, don’t question peak songwriting. It’s iconic.”

She rolled her eyes, but I knew she was enjoying it.

It was my turn to cook so I got to work preparing food for both of us before a well-deserved rest. Since I’d never been good at estimating the amount of rice needed for two people, there was now a full pot of leftovers that I promptly put away while cleaning up.

The music blasting from Mai’s room was making me dance around the kitchen and postponing the tiredness I’d felt ever since opening my eyes in the morning. To take advantage of that burst of energy, I cleaned up all surfaces in the kitchen and dining room, giving Mai a break from her turn for cleaning that day, and moved on to the bathroom, where I made sure everything looked decent enough not to put me into a slump when we wake up the next day. Satisfied with the work, it was time to take a short nap before going to the gym.

“Maybe this was a mistake, maybe we were too ambitious to plan to go out after the gym.” My friend complained on the way home.

“Well, maybe you should’ve done a low-intensity set like me like I told you! Because I’m feeling great!”

“I’m too old for this shit.”

“You’re 22! I dread to think how you’ll feel when you’re 80.”

She just stuck her tongue out at me in response.

Both of us felt rejuvenated after a shower and it was high time to start getting dressed and doing our makeup. The playlist was back on and so was the random singing and shouting. I decided on a black blink-182 top, black jeans that are so ripped that I put fishnets on underneath, and an oversized denim jacket over the top.

The guitar pick necklace matched the t-shirt and all that was left was to put a fuck ton of eyeliner on. I went into Mai’s room to check on her and, damn, she looked incredible. She’d fit right in with her shorts, completely ripped black tights, Linkin Park t-shirt, and a plaid shirt wrapped tightly around her waist. I wolf-whistled.

“Not sure I can let you out like that, Mai.”

“Is something wrong with it? Is it too much? Oh no it’s too much isn’t it…”

“Hell no I’m just thinking of the best way to swat people away when they start swarming you.”

She smirked at the comment “You look just like you did in your old photos…just with better hair.”

“Please don’t remind me, I can still smell the hair spray.”

We sat on the floor and started doing our makeup, occasionally changing songs on her speakers and cracking stupid jokes. When we were done it was around 10 pm and Mai insisted on taking photos before leaving. My eyeliner sort of matched her plaid shirt, big black wings with red lines underneath, on my inner corners, and slicing through my eyebrows. On the lips, I opted for black-red ombre lipstick hoping it doesn’t transfer onto my cup of whatever I chose to drink.

The walk to the club was pleasant as it wasn’t too cold or too hot. With those last breaths of fresh air of the night, we walked in and found our names on the list to be let inside. The space wasn’t very big, but it had only a few open windows so I felt sweat dripping down my back almost as soon as we got to the dance floor. Waving at the DJ and the event manager, we made our way to the bar. Mai started flirting with the bartender and I really had to respect the swiftness with which she got her first free drink of the night.

I grabbed my extortionately priced can of Red Bull and a straw and headed to the floor. There was quite a big crowd of people on one end of the room so we danced our way to the other side. The big reason why I loved going out with Mai is that she left all her shyness at home and sang from the top of her lungs even if her words were wrong. I, on the other hand, had to be broken out of my shell every time.

After a while, having gotten comfortable with a big crowd of people all around us, I started noticing familiar faces walking in. Some of Mai’s friends from one of her lectures were there and we very quickly joined them in carving out some space for our group on the dancefloor. I could feel the makeup melting and everyone was getting water to freshen up so I decided to venture out to find the nearest toilet. Mai followed me out and kept singing as we walked past a group of guys, one of whom nearly knocked me into the wall.

“Watch it, assholes!” She shouted after them as I was regaining balance.

There was broken glass stuck in the soles of my vans and I could feel it scrape the floor as I walked on.

“I swear some people don’t understand the concept of personal space, are you okay?” her worrying was adorable.

“Yeah, I just have to pick out the glass from my soles now. He didn’t even apologise, did he?”

“Nah, that’s okay I’ll find him back inside and feed him my fist though, don’t you worry.” I laughed as she pretended to punch the hand dryer. We tried to dab some sweat off of our faces with toilet paper but soon gave up as it would probably build up as soon as we stepped back into the room. Heading back, my favourite song came on and I had to sprint to get back to our group and share my excitement with others.

“I really fucking love this song!” I shouted into someone’s ear, only to realise it was not one of my people, but the very asshole that pushed me in the hallway minutes before, along with his friends. He looked me up and down and, smirking like I was a child expressing their enjoyment of an animated film, chuckled “Good for you”.

I turned to find Mai, but she had already seen the interaction and followed what happened with raised eyebrows.

“Was that…”

“Someone that still needs to get punched for being a dick? Yeah that’s the guy.”

“Mai, he’s hot. Why didn’t you tell me he was this hot! I would’ve pushed myself to save him the trouble of doing it himself if he needed me to!”

“I can’t hear half the words you just said and I don’t think I want to. You’re too sexually frustrated for your own good.”

Still I couldn’t stop picturing his face as he looked me up and down. Did he like what he saw? Did he find me cringe? Did he realise I was the person he pushed? I could’ve sworn I caught a glimpse of adorable fangs in his mouth, was he one of those weirdos that wore fake fangs to emo events?

Mai dragged me to the bar to get another drink, but I kept scanning the room to find the asshole vampire guy. With a new can in hand, I went towards the DJ to talk to the event manager. She was a really cool girl I had met waiting for our professor to start the lecture because both of us wore the same band t-shirt. Ever since she started organising these parties, Mai and I have been on the list and stayed until the very end of the party.

“What’s wrong? You never not sing along to Ocean Avenue,” Hana waved in front of my face. Mai chuckled and told her I was just too horny to function.

“Who’s the target tonight?” Hana asked with a massive grin.

“That long-haired asshole next to the bar,” Mai pointed towards him and his group of friends, all of them with drinks in their hands and not really dancing or looking like they were there for the music.

They kept talking while I made my way back out of the room to get some air and space to think. When someone stood next to where I was crouching, I assumed it was Mai trying to get me back inside.

“Sorry about pushing you earlier,” a voice that definitely wasn’t Mai’s said.

I looked up and was greeted by a pair of bronze eyes and a serious face framed by long black hair. Leaning on the wall with hands in his pockets, it was Asshole Vampire from before. The one I couldn’t stop looking for in the crowd, now he stood next to me where I could hear him better. I quickly stood up and swayed a little from getting up too fast.

“I didn’t think you even noticed someone falling and stepping on glass because of you.” My voice was vibrating from screaming along with the music earlier.

“I know it’s not really an excuse, but I tried to get back as soon as possible to hear the song that was playing. I love Black Veil Brides.” He chuckled and looked down.

I looked him over, he was wearing a white button-up shirt that was slightly unbuttoned, black jeans, and black Converse. His hair was long and shiny, falling forward nonchalantly.

“I will say that just might be a good enough reason, I’ll try to call off the hit I put on you.” I tried sounding casual despite the fact that he was standing so close to me I could feel the warmth of his body.

“That would be great, thanks. You have a good music taste, apparently. Good Charlotte is one of my favourite bands.”

I looked at him and blushed, that meant he definitely knew it was me shouting in his ear earlier.

“Yeah, sorry about that, I thought you were someone I knew.”

He looked amused, “I’m Keisuke. Now I’m also someone you know.”

I shook his hand, trying to secretly admire his beautiful long fingers. “Yuna. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“I’ve never managed to get my friends to come with me before, and I’m not the type to go out to clubs by myself.”

“Well, I hope you get them to come next time as well, I’ve been to every Emo Nite and they’re always amazing. I’m friends with the event manager as well.” Wow shut up, I thought to myself, who gives a shit.

“They’re not really into the same music, that’s why we’re just standing there like statues. Just observing. Like a bunch of creeps.”

That made me shiver a bit. Was I actually holding a conversation with this guy? If only Mai could see me now…she’d probably run over to punch Keisuke in the face.

“I get it, luckily, my friend is discovering this music now and likes it, I’ve been into it since I was probably 10.”

“Ahhh, the right age to sing about all the greatest pains in life, back before you even knew what the real world was.” He stared ahead like he knew that pain now.

“Yeah, but it’s been 12 years since then, and it’s still my day-to-day music.”

“You’re 22 then?” He looked back at me, “Are you from around here? We could’ve been in the same year..”

“I moved here for university.” Okay great, he was my age and he had the same music taste. I couldn’t help but wonder what his lips would taste like…

“You know I can see you staring at my lips, right?” He grinned, obviously very pleased with himself having caught me staring.

“Hm? Oh…yeah. You’re insanely gorgeous, sorry,” I cringed at myself. What the fuck is wrong with me? May as well go get Mai and head home, there is no way I could enjoy my night after this. A soft chuckle escaped his mouth “Likewise, I didn’t get a very good look at you inside, but now that I can see you properly, I’m really glad I came out to check on you.”

Wait, what? “Check on me?”

“It seemed like you were unwell, and when you headed out I wanted to make sure you didn’t collapse or something,” he shrugged. My heart started pounding, he was looking at me inside? He worried about me? He wanted to help me? Woah.

“That’s very kind, coming from the guy who almost flattened me with the wall.”

He threw his head back and laughed, “Are you going to hold that against me forever?”

“Maybe,” I smiled at him, “unless you make it up to me.”

He turned to face me completely.

“Well, how about we head back inside to enjoy some music together, and you think of a way for me to me it up to you?”

I took in his gorgeous jawline and the canines peeking through his lips.

“Lead the way, Keisuke.”

We went back inside, I immediately started scanning the crowd for Mai or Hana. They waved me over to them and I grabbed Keisuke’s hand to lead him to them. Mai’s eyes went wide and I knew we were going to have to talk about this later.

“Keisuke, this is Mai, my best friend, and that’s Hana, she organised this event,” I shouted into his ear, inhaling the scent of his hair.

Mai looked him up and down and Hana shook his hand. I was pleading with Mai with my eyes not to beat the shit out of him right then and there, signalling that I didn’t want him dead.

“I’m going to stay over at Hana’s tonight, if that’s okay with you, Yuna.” Hana turned to her with questions in her eyes, but Mai pinched her arm and smiled at her.

Was she trying to give me some kind of a signal? Keisuke looked between us, all I could do was just nod and go dance. It seemed too convenient that the next song that was playing was a slow one. Keisuke grabbed my hand, “I assume you want to dance to blink-182,” he nodded at my t-shirt and necklace.

I couldn’t believe it. We’d been dancing for several songs now, surprisingly, he’s actually got rhythm. Mai decided to stay with Hana and not come back for me, which normally never happens. It was always the two of us against everyone in the room. Maybe she saw the tension between Keisuke and me - wait…was there tension between Keisuke and me? He was looking down at me and smiling most of the time, save for when he was belting out to the music. Especially when both of us were singing the wrong lyrics to Fall Out Boy. After a while, he dragged me to the hallway to speak to me.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He looked at me intensely. It took me a few seconds to catch on.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Do you live nearby?”

This wasn’t weird, right? To the rational part of my brain, it sounded like a bad idea, but I’d been imagining what his lips would feel like on my neck for a good part of the night.

“Yeah, walking distance,” As soon as I said that he leaned down and caught my lips with his. I reached for his neck and brought him closer, deepening the kiss. His lips were soft and I could smell his shampoo as his hair fell to tickle my face. There was a low vibration in the back of his throat. When he broke the kiss he looked into my eyes like he was trying to read them. I could get lost just staring at his face. He smiled and took my hand, “Lead the way, Yuna.”

I fumbled around my pockets trying to text Mai while he let his friends know he wasn’t going home with them. It seemed like a fortunate coincidence that Mai was staying over at Hana’s tonight.

Yunaaaaasty, 01:28

i’m going home with vampire guy, am i making the biggest mistake of my life?

Mai Darling, 01:29

thought so :) why did you think i made Hana let me stay over?

Yunaaaaasty, 01:29

you’re a mastermind and i owe you for this

Mai Darling, 01:30

oh yes you do but honestly it’s not as fun singing i’m not okay without you <3333

just let me know if you’re dead or alive in the morning so i can alert the police kbye have fun ;)

I looked up as Keisuke reached for my hand, his grip was so warm it immediately made my heart jump. I could feel warmth pooling in my stomach in anticipation of what might happen in just a few short minutes. Keisuke kept asking me questions about my life on our way there, though I wasn’t exactly sure why he was so curious if this was to be only a one-time thing. Maybe he was trying to determine if I was a psycho killer of some sort…or maybe he was? Oh well, he was so gorgeous I wouldn’t mind dying if it meant having some fun with him beforehand.

We walked up the stairs and he started kissing behind my ear. My skin felt tight in anticipation of his touch and I felt myself shiver as his kisses trailed down to my neck.

“You’re distracting me, I’m trying to get us inside at least,” I chuckled at him.

“How long does it normally take you to unlock your front door?”

“Hey it’s difficult finding the key in this mess of keychains, now I have you making me thinking about uhhh…other things as well.”

He moved to my lips and nipped at my bottom lip. “Oh and what is it that I’m making you think about?” There is no way I was saying that out loud outside my apartment, so I just pushed the door open and dragged him inside after me.

I started taking my denim jacket off all the while not breaking the kiss and leading him to my bedroom. I shut the door and clumsily shook off my Vans, starting to unbutton his shirt. He looked at me with hungry eyes, his hands travelling along my hips and up to my breasts. Luckily, the fairy lights around my bed frame were left on so I could see his eyes as he was drinking in the lust in my eyes. When he shrugged off his shirt, he started unbuttoning my jeans and pushed me toward my desk, still messy with my coursework and at least four dictionaries and other heavy tomes. I broke the kiss to put the books away when he chuckled, “Damn, I was kind of hoping to knock it over in the heat of the moment and eat you out on top of the desk,” As hot as that would’ve been, this was the product of a month of research and hard work and it deserved to be put away safely.

“If I hadn’t spent all my sanity working on this paper I would say yes.”

“Can I still eat you out at least?” I felt my knees threatening to give out, why was his saying that so damn hot?

“Please,” I moaned into his mouth and started to peel my fishnets off when he grabbed my hands to stop me.

“Keep them on,” his breathy voice rolled into my ear, “but how attached are you to those panties?”

This confused me, but he already grabbed the fabric of my underwear and started ripping them on the side and casting them away. He lifted me up and put me on top of my desk, now trailing his mouth down my torso to where my panties were a few seconds ago. His large hands ripped the crotch of my tights and started putting his hair up into a ponytail. I hadn’t noticed the hair tie that had been around his wrist until he took it off and held it with his teeth.

My head spun when he lowered his lips to my heat and started to lick long strokes between the folds. Leaning back on my hands, I let out a breathy moan that made him chuckle into me and start sucking on my clit.

“Oh my..Keisuke yes,” I couldn’t keep it in anymore, his tongue swirled all around the most sensitive area and when I looked down at his face his eyes were set on me, as if he needed to make sure I was coming undone. As if my moans and hitched breaths weren’t enough of a sign, he needed to see it with his own eyes.

My hand went to the base of his ponytail to bring him closer to me, as I did so it felt like he dug in with an even stronger intensity than before. I was nearing my peak when he inserted a finger inside me. I could feel his lips spreading into a smile when he saw my reaction like he was saving that move until the end.

“Let go, Yuna. If you cum on my tongue now I’ll let you ride me.” That was all that was needed to push me over the edge and make me shake with pleasure while his hand held me down on the desk.

He got up and pulled my t-shirt off, slowly unbuckling my bra and adding it to the pile of clothes on the floor. Keisuke let his hair back down and started pulling my hair into a ponytail, tying it with his hair tie. I pushed him onto my bed and crawled up to his crotch, pulling his jeans down as he pushed his Converse off his feet.

When I pulled down his boxers I was met with his hard cock slapping his abdomen and, looking up into his eyes, gave the head an experimental lick. His eyelashes fluttered and he closed his eyes so I took it as a sign to continue.

Keisuke let out the sweetest moan when I took as much of his length as I could into my mouth, one hand on his shaft, the other on the balls. With long, circular motions, my tongue slid all over his cock, licking off any drops of precum it dripped.

His balls were in my hand, softly being massaged, causing him to huff and moan softly. His hand reached for my hair and grabbed it to lead me how he wanted me. He held me in place as his hips thrust up. As his thrusts got more and more frantic, my throat had had enough, so I released his balls from my hand and grabbed the hand that was holding my ponytail signalling I needed a break.

He released me and dragged me up to his face to kiss me, but I had to get things moving to get him inside of me as soon as possible.

Leaning over to my bedside table, I pushed aside my phone and Polaroid camera, grabbed a condom from the drawer, and turned on some music, “Alexa, play Oh My Word It’s Happening playlist.” When the first song started playing, he let out a laugh,

“Really, First Date?”

“Hey, I want to make this night last forever, okay?”

I handed him the condom and straddled his abdomen, leaning in to kiss him deeply. Keisuke’s hair was spread over the pillow like a dark halo, framing his beautiful face, I almost forgot how to breathe. His hands were trailing along my thighs, still covered with fishnet tights, as I positioned myself above his hard cock, slowly lowering myself down, his eyes rolling back and filthy moans escaping his soft lips.

When I sunk fully onto his cock, I couldn’t help myself but let out a high-pitched moan which seemed to wake him from the bliss he was in. He grabbed my hips and helped me bounce myself on him. The thickness that spread my walls made me feel full, and each thrust scratched an impossible itch inside me. When Keisuke started grunting with each thrust I knew he was nearing his peak. I reached to rub my clit with one hand, but he swiftly knocked it aside and replaced it with his own. I threw my head back in pure pleasure and let out all the pent-up pressure from my throat as I came all over his dick, he followed soon after with an animalistic moan and stopped thrusting.

He looked spent and let go of my hips, I needed to burn the image of him lying underneath me into the insides of my eyelids. I reached over to grab my camera,

“Do you mind if I take one of you?” I motioned with the camera. He gave me a small smile,

“Is this some kind of a psycho killer trophy you’re collecting?”I couldn’t help but laugh,

“Maybe, but I want to remember this.” He nodded with a blissful smile, so I looked through a viewfinder and pushed the button. Putting the camera aside, I got off of him and lay next to him, gently taking the condom off and launching it into the bin.

“I feel obligated to mention that I’ve never done this before,” He raised his eyebrow at my comment, causing me to correct myself, “I mean, I’ve never brought someone home like this, especially after just meeting them.” He was tracing shapes on my stomach, all the while staring into my eyes.

“Me neither,” he admitted, “I’m still not convinced you’re not some psycho killer taking advantage of young men, taking salacious photos of them, and then disposing of their corpses in the nearby bushes.” I just had to laugh at the notion,

“You seem to have put a lot of thought into this scenario, are you sure you’re not the murderer?” He leaned over to place a kiss on my shoulder,

“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Looking over at him, I took in his loose hair, now messy and half-resting on my pillows.

“Honestly, after this, I think I would gladly let you kill me. I don’t remember the last time I felt this good.” When Keisuke pulled me closer to him, resting his hand on my hip, I swear I could have floated away.

After some conversation that sounded way too casual considering the way we had just made each other feel, I heard Keisuke’s stomach rumble so I offered to get him some food and dragged him out of bed and into the kitchen. He managed to put his boxers back on while I put on my pyjama top and we made way to investigate the food situation.

“I’ve got some leftovers from today, I mean, I guess it’s technically yesterday now.” I pulled out the tub with leftover fried rice and chicken and stuck it into the microwave while he inspected the fridge door that was littered with polaroids of Mai and me, some from our work with other coworkers, some of us cuddling her cats from back home, some of our birthday and end-of-exams parties, and others of my old dance group from different competitions we attended.

“You have cats?” He seemed really interested in all individual photos.

“Ah, no, those are Mai’s parents’ cats. They live in the middle of nowhere and have a bunch of animals, unfortunately, we couldn’t get any of her pets here when we moved in,” I pointed at another photo of me with a big black labrador sitting on the beach, “That’s my dog, but he lives with my parents, as I’m too busy to take care of a dog right now.” He nodded and looked over a few more photos before stepping towards me and pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

At that moment the microwave beeped and I went to grab the food and plate it up. We ate standing in the kitchen, neither of us feeling inclined to move away from each other. Keisuke was stuffing his face like he hadn't eaten in days,

“I think you need to slow down,” I said with a smirk.

“This is amazing, I can’t stop,” he said with his mouth full.

When he was done, he started to put the plates into the dishwasher and I offered him something to drink. With him in the kitchen, I made my way to the bathroom to wipe my makeup off, noticing the lipstick hadn’t transferred at all. Keisuke appeared behind me when I had taken off most of the makeup and started touching my ass. Luckily I didn’t put any underwear on, remembering how he ripped the pair I wore earlier. I looked at him through the mirror and smiled at his gentle caresses. He seemed entranced by my skin and started making his way towards my bare heat. Gently rubbing my sensitive lips, he elicited soft moans from my lips. Our eyes met in the mirror and he returned my smile,

“You’re so beautiful, did you know that? I loved seeing you with the makeup, but this,” he reached for my cheek with his hand, the other one still rubbing my pussy, “is incredible.”

He grabbed my face and kissed it, making me moan into his mouth which made him change his approach and sink a finger inside of me. He groaned when my walls sucked his finger in, adding another and hooking them to hit the most sensitive spot inside. My legs started shaking with pleasure, which seemed to amuse him enough to giggle and move to stand right behind me, spreading my legs.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” Keisuke whispered, “but you’re making me feel feral, like no amount of touching you will ever be enough,” his voice was making me wet with desire.

“Feral? We can do it like they do it on the Discovery channel then,” I invited him for another round. I opened one of the drawers under the sink and passed him a condom, causing him to chuckle,

“Very convenient.”

“We like to be prepared,” he aligned his once again hard cock with my entrance and pushed in, throwing his head back in pleasure, my back arching to get a better angle, still holding the edges of the sink. He pushed into me until I couldn’t take any more and gasped loudly. He stopped and started pulling out and pushing back in, only up to the point I could handle. This angle made hitting the sensitive spot so much easier, it made me gasp and whine with every single one of his thrusts. His hands were squeezing my ass like it was the only thing keeping him grounded on this Earth. His cock was buried deep inside of me, hitting my most sensitive areas, pulling me apart from the inside.

I threw my head back and Keisuke took the opportunity to grab my jaw and pull me towards his face. He was grunting into my ear and kissing my neck, I was certain I wouldn’t last much longer.

With his teeth, he scraped along my neck. With a cry, I creamed on his cock, which only seemed to make him go faster and harder. “Good girl, hold on tight,” he whispered into my ear, letting go of my jaw and instead holding the base of my ponytail as I held onto the wall in front of me for dear life. One of his hands snaked around me and found my clit, rubbing it in circular motions, sending me into another orgasm, this one louder than the last.

Never breaking pace, he chuckled and smacked my ass three times before returning both his hands on my ass, pulling me into his hips repeatedly.

“Faster Keisuke, please!” I cried out, and he obliged. Soon after that I felt another wave of pleasure threatening to swallow me whole. Just as I started crying out his name again, he moaned into my hair and finished, slowing his thrust leading us both through our orgasms. Once he stopped, our eyes locked in the mirror once more, I didn’t know if I had it in me to smile at him. His cock slid out of me and he took off the condom and threw it away, spinning me around to kiss me with all the energy he had left. I had half a mind to thank him, but I couldn’t form words anymore, I just grabbed his hand and led him back into my bedroom, cuddling into him on the bed.

“Yuna?”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you okay?”

Turning around to face him, I caressed his face, taking in his loose hair, soft eyes, slightly protruding canines, and soft lips. I wanted to look at him forever, there’s something arresting about his face making me incapable of looking away.

“Why do you ask?” Was he overthinking this whole night? Is he trying to make me start kicking him out so he doesn’t have to make the first move?

“You haven’t said a word since…since we fucked in the bathroom.” His tone was that of worry.

“I think… you may have taken every ounce of energy that I had saved for conversation,” I said with a giggle, “I came twice before that, and then three times in the bathroom. A girl needs to breathe and rest.”

His smile returned, lighting his face up, I just had to close the distance between us and kiss him softly.

“How are you feeling?” I wondered, gently caressing his arm.

“Completely empty. I feel like all my worries and stress just,” he made a floating gesture with his hand, “disappeared.”

“I think we both deserve some sleep, don’t you agree?”

He looked into my eyes as if to read them again, then rolled me over, pressed me into his form, and softly whispered good night.

I grabbed my phone only to be met with a few messages from Mai:

Mai Darling, 2:30

hope you’re not dead because Hana said there’s another party in 2 weeks and she’ll kill us if we don’t come

Mai Darling, 3:15

ok you’re either dead and i have to clean up the apartment of your blood or you’re still fucking and i hope to everything holy it’s the latter and i don’t have to get the blood out of the carpet

Mai Darling, 4:45

i’m gonna choose to believe you’re so fucked out you can’t even pick up your phone. get it girl. Message me when you can though

Yunaaaaasty, 5:20

alive but barely. came five times. hurts my brain to think we have work today. see you soon.

Mai Darling, 5:21

YESSSSSSSS i knew that little bastard had it in him…or more accurately he had it in you! ;)

i’m home around 9, prepare the report and i’m making us some coffee for that piping hot tea

What a weirdo. My eyelids closed to the soft sound of Keisuke’s light snores.

With a start, my eyelids flew open to quickly switch off the alarm before it woke up Keisuke. With a groan, he flipped over to his back, hand reaching over to try and locate his phone. He sat up to rummage through the pile of clothes we left on the floor to fish it out of his pocket.

“Ah, shit. I have work in a few hours,” he looked over at me and smiled, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t stay a tiny bit longer. That is, if you want me here?” His eyes were full of hope.

I pulled him towards me and caught him in a kiss, his hand started wandering underneath the sheets, grabbing my boobs, hips, thighs, pulling me closer. Every time he squeezed me a moan escaped my mouth into his, which seemed to make him more eager each time.

His hands travelled down to my pussy and started to softly spread my folds, ghosting over my clit with each move. In an attempt to get more friction, I started to roll my hips on his hand, desperately trying to unravel the bundle of tension already forming in my belly. He smirked and probed my entrance with a finger, catching the gasp coming out of my mouth with his own.

I was already reaching back into the drawer to fish out another condom, expecting another round, when his mouth left mine to trail kisses and nibbles down my neck to my collarbone while his other hand was holding my neck. Am I getting into this? His hands are so pretty that I kind of want them around my neck for a little longer.

“How are you so amazing at this?” I squeezed out between moans. He chuckled, “It’s a curse.”

“Then please curse me again.”

His head snapped up and we locked eyes. Grabbing the condom from my hand he got in my face, “Only because you asked me nicely, gorgeous.”

This time his thrusts were slower, towering over me, leaning on his elbows, his hair fell into my face, smelling of his shampoo and my perfume mixed together. Citrusy and sweet. I hoped the pillow he had slept on kept the scent a little bit longer. His eyes were focused on my face, following every hitched breath as he hit my sensitive spot with every move.

My insides squeezed his length with the desire to keep him inside a bit longer, the slow and lazy motions we were going through seemed very fitting with the chilly morning air coming in through the open window. As fast and rough as last night’s sex was, this morning’s sex was gentle, careful, and deliberate. My hands were firmly planted on his back, nails scratching slowly. I was soon brought to my peak again, this time it wasn’t sudden and needy, but slow and sure.

“Keisuke I’m close,” I moaned right into his ear, which seemed to set off something in him as his pupils dilated and his movements became needier. Like he’ll drop through the ground into the centre of the Earth if he doesn’t chase our orgasms.

“Say it again,” he squeezed out through his moans.

“Keisuke! I’m so close, keep it going please!”

“More,” his voice was desperate, his eyes were squeezed shut with concentration.

“Please I need you, Keisuke! You feel so good, you’re making me cum!”

With a cry, we finished in sync and he dropped on top of me, barely breathing just like me. He pulled out slowly and discarded the condom, pushing his hair back from his face.

“How many times was that?”

“This was my sixth, but it felt more intense than the ones before.”

The look on his face was that of beaming pride and bliss. “Not bad for one night,” he said with a wink, “but I’m afraid I have to get going if I want to at least shower before work.”

“Where do you work?” Considering how much we talked throughout the night, I didn’t get this important piece of information. Sure, now I knew what his life goals were, how old he was when he broke his first tooth, and how many bikes he had crashed in his childhood, but somehow his place of employment hadn’t popped up.

“Pet zone. The one next to the main square.” He raked his fingers through his hair, leaving me in awe of his lean body and toned arms. He started putting his clothes back on, so I got up to find a new pair of underwear and an oversized T-shirt.

Now that we were both dressed, we met in the middle of the room with another deep kiss, this time he pulled me into a hug. Huh, we had fucked 3 times and I fed him, but we just hugged for the first time. I could’ve just melted in his arms, but the sound of the front door unlocking made me step away and see him to the door.

Mai walked in with a big smile on her face and a bag of groceries.

“Good morning sleepyhead, time to start on breakfast!” She said with too much energy for both of us.

“Actually, I have to get going or I won’t make it to work,” with a quick kiss to my lips, he started for the door.

Mai turned to him as if wondering what he was still doing there.

“Okay, great seeing you, Kazuki,” she said with a smile.

��Likewise, Mirei.”

She frowned slightly, “It’s Mai.”

He smirked, “It’s Keisuke.” He winked at me and closed the door behind him.

Mai turned to me with a grin, “I like him, he can take a joke. Right,” she clapped her hands, marching into the kitchen, “I’m making coffee, you’re getting ready to spill everything. Apart from the coffee, of course.”

With sleep still in my eyes, I made for my bedroom to put the books and papers back onto the desk and let some more air in, since the whole room smelled of sex. As I raked through my hair, I realised his hair tie was still in my hair, I wondered if he left it with me on purpose.

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