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forays-into-fiction · 1 year

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I Want You So Bad I Can’t Breathe

You met Eddie when you first moved to Hawkins, Indiana it was an especially difficult time for you and Eddie was the one to stand by you, becoming fast friends. But then he was moving on to middle school and leaving you behind only to forget about you. You admire him from afar until Hellfire Club where you finally reconnect.

Request fill for @harringtonfan4 hope you like it, sorry if I went too hard on the negative self-image/insecurity stuff 😅

Minors DNI

Contains: Dom!Eddie/Sub!Reader, Slight Perv!Eddie Virgin!Reader, PlusSize!Reader, Insecure!Eddie, Insecure!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Angst, Major Internalised Fatphobia/Fatphobia, Bullying, Daddy Kink, Spitting, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Praise Kink, Innocence/Virginity Kink, Unprotected Sex, Drug Use (Weed)

Fat. It was a word you’d heard more than half your life by now at eighteen. The first time someone called you fat you were seven, she was supposed to be your friend… your best friend, but her snide little, ‘Why are you so fat? It’s so gross!’ stuck with you.

Looking back now you know you weren’t fat… you know it every time you look back, but you can never see it in the moment. And you weren’t fat you were just an average sized little girl with chubby little cheeks.

No matter how far back it’s always been ‘oh I used to think I was so fat back then, what I would give to go back to that size. But now, now I really am fat’

Over the years this mindset had really impacted your life, you used to be more outgoing, you used to love to sing and dance, you used to live without constantly thinking about how everyone else saw you. Because no one wants to see the fat girl having fun, enjoying life right… better to hide away.

You had tried to lose weight, so many times… and you did, but every time you’d lose weight as soon as you’d hit a plateau your weight would sit there for a bit before slowly creeping back up and up and up. At least until you weighed even more than when you’d started.

It wasn’t just your friend that had made comments about your weight, she was the first but she certainly wasn’t the last. You’d also had a bully around the same time, she had consistently tormented you every day.

Day after day she’d drag you away from your friends, pulling you into a secluded corner to harass you verbally, physically, mentally… until one day you finally told someone.

Your mum went off on that other girl, threatened her so badly every time you saw her since then she’d cross the road to avoid you… but the damage had been done.

You didn’t have to deal with the aftermath for too long, shortly after your parents had decided to move to Hawkins, Indiana to be closer to your grandparents.

Your little brother was almost four now and they were going to need help taking care of the two of you, both of them working long hours and odd shifts just to get by. Also needed a bigger house to accommodate the needs of your growing family.

You were eight when you first met him, he was ten both of you still in elementary school. You were new in town, that in itself already made you an oddity to say the least.

Some kids had been picking on you, calling you names, pushing you around, you were on the verge of tears when he stepped in. He’d scared them off pretty easily, being both older and taller, buzzed head giving him a ‘tougher’ look.

Once they had left, he turned to you, placing a hand on your shoulder looking into your eyes like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, “Hey, don’t pay attention to shitheads like that, ok? I’m Eddie.”

“Y/n…” You reply shakily.

“Y/n,” He repeats, “that is a very pretty name. Nice to meet you y/n.”

“N-nice to meet you t-too.”

“Wanna have lunch with me?”

“Yeah…”

You’d spent the rest of that school year by his side he’d introduced you to this game he played, Dungeons and Dragons. He’d jokingly criticised your taste in music, telling you he’d show you some real music.

You pout and protest that just because he doesn’t like your music doesn’t mean it’s not real music, but begrudgingly you listen to his stuff and find you actually like it… not that you’d admit it to him, you’d never give him the satisfaction.

If you were honest with yourself, you’d been smitten with him since that day, but you buried those thoughts and feelings deep down, tried to ignore it.

But then all too quickly he’s moving on to middle school, the two of you promise to stay in touch but you don’t. You don’t want to push it either, he’s probably moved on to something better… someone better.

In his absence you became closer with one Nancy Wheeler. Your brother and hers were in the same playgroup and your families had become closer as a whole. Both you and her were the same age, you’d bonded over the little things and she was a good friend to you.

It’s not until another two years later that you see him again, you’re starting middle school and he’s in his final year there. His hair is a bit longer now, no longer completely buzzed, still cropped short but growing out.

You admire him from afar, he wouldn’t remember you… why would he remember you? You couldn’t risk embarrassing yourself by approaching him now.

Your brother and his friends have discovered Dungeons and Dragons, the game has changed a bit since you first played but you sit in with them for a few sessions, Nancy also joins on occasion.

You DM until Will asks to take over one session, then they all take turns at being DM, each running their own campaign with your guidance. As Nancy starts to lose interest in the game, you feel you should stick with her rather than intrude on your brother’s group.

And time slips by the year is over, he’s moving on to high school, leaving you behind once more.

By the time you see him again you’re both in high school, his hair is longer still, becoming a bushy mane around his head, he’s really embracing the ‘metal’ look from what you can see and it suits him you think.

You hear he’s started a D&D group here at the school, Hellfire Club it was called. You were tempted to join, you had really missed him all these years, you doubt he would have even spared you a second thought… who would? Why would he care about that fat, little weird kid who followed him around for a year?

You ask Nancy what she thinks, “I kinda know the guy that runs it, we were friends for a little while. It was before you and I really started hanging out properly, but I don’t think he remembers me. What do you think, should I join? Would you join with me?”

“I think if you want to join you should, and it seems like you do… but I don’t know about joining myself, I kind of outgrew that phase. I’m thinking of signing up for the school paper though.”

“Oh, yeah that’s great you definitely should!”

“So, what about you? You going to join that club?”

“Ummm… yeah, maybe… I do want to, but I’m a little nervous.”

“I thought you said the guy that runs it is a friend, just talk to him.”

“Yeah, but we haven’t talked in years, I’m sure he doesn’t remember me.”

“It’ll be fine if you are worried about talking to him directly, I’m sure they’d have some sort of sign-up sheet, just go put your name down.” She shrugs.

“Yeah. Yeah, ok that doesn’t sound too bad.”

And they do have a sign-up sheet, it’s hung just outside the drama room, but you can’t see a pen anywhere. You rummage around in your bag for your pencil case, but then he appears beside you and you jump.

He holds a pen out towards you with one hand, the other on which he’d drawn a silly, little face comes up and he makes it ‘talk’ with a funny voice, “Need a pen?”

“Ahhh… yeah, thanks…?” You take the offered pen awkwardly.

His silly face hand drops, internally he’s facepalming, ‘why the fuck did you do that?’ he thinks pressing on despite this, “Eddie. My name is Eddie.”

You shift self-consciously avoiding looking him in the eye, “Yeah, I uhh… I remember you, Eddie. You probably don’t remember me-”

A broad grin spreads across his face, “Are you kidding, of course I remember you, princess. Sorry if I scared you earlier, by the way. So, you’re signing up for Hellfire, huh?”

You shrug, “Yeah, if you’ll have me, I guess.”

“It’ll be just like the good old days. You still been playing?”

“Umm… not so much lately, but you remember my little brother?”

He nods, you continue, “He and his friends are really into it now. When they first started I DM’ed for them, at least until they got the hang of it.”

“Awww, princess DM’ing… I woulda loved to see that.”

“I mean you still could… if I’m joining Hellfire…”

“Oh, no… no I am the Dungeon Master there, princess no one else. And I run a brutal campaign… you better prepare yourself. I’m not about to go easy on you, just cause it’s you.”

“We’ll see about that won’t we Munson, I can take brutal, you know.”

He just about chokes on his words at that, but manages to contain himself… barely, “Uhh huh sure you can, princess.”

The next couple of years after that the two of you reconnect, it was like you’d never been apart, but again he’s coming up on his final year, about to leave you behind yet again. And then… he doesn’t, he doesn’t graduate, he fails his senior year.

You’re torn on the one hand it means you get another year with him, another year before he disappears again. On the other hand, you hated seeing him fail, you knew how shitty high school was for him, constantly being mocked and teased. You hadn’t had it any better either, but having him there helped and now you’d have him for another year.

But now, now you’re eighteen, he’s twenty and he’s failed again. So, you get to share all your classes with him, you feel guilty about how happy you are to still have him with you.

Your little brother and his friends are just starting high school and Eddie takes them under his wing, inviting them to join you at your table. You would have done so yourself, but he’d beaten you to it and it reminded you of the day you met him, the way he stood up for you, the way he still stood up for you.

Your feelings have resurfaced… or maybe they’d always been there, just bubbling away in the hidden recesses of your mind. You hated yourself for it, it wasn’t for you to have a crush… nothing could possibly come of it, you’d seen the way he’d looked at other girls, prettier girls, skinnier girls… he’d never want you, why bother? And every day you dig yourself deeper into this hole, torturing yourself.

He’s driving you to school one day when you find yourself humming along to one of the songs on his radio and he is very quick to call you out on it. “Hey, I thought you didn’t like my, quote ‘shitty metal’?”

You give him a shove, “Fuck off, you know I don’t.”

“Oh, yeah then why are you fucking humming Metallica hmmm?” He grins smugly.

“I dunno, I guess it grows on you… like a wart… or a skin lesion… or you.”

“Hey, you take that back!”

You giggle, “Never.”

“Oh, really is that how it is?” He glances over at you briefly, taking one hand from the steering wheel he begins poking at you “Take. It. Back.”

You squirm away from his prodding fingers, but then instead of getting your arm or your shoulder he misses and makes contact with the swell of your belly and you freeze.

He knows he’s done something wrong, when he glances over again, the way your giggles die on your lips, the way you won’t look at him.

“What’s wrong princess?” He asks seriously.

“Nothing. Nothing, just drive.” Your voice sounds almost empty, but he doesn’t push any further.

Nancy knows, even if you won’t admit it at first, but she knows about your not so little crush. When you finally do admit it, she encourages you to do something about it, but you can’t… you couldn’t, could you? What if it ruined everything between the two of you… after all why would he ever look at you like that…

It does no good to dwell on these thoughts, but they come up, every time you’re in his van, every time he looks at you with that glint in his eye, every time you’re sat in his bedroom… on his bed, smoking and laughing and forgetting who you are for just a split second. It gives you hope, but then it all comes crashing down around you.

When he shows you how to roll your first joint, you can’t take your eyes off of him. You don’t hear a word he’s saying, it washes over you without comprehension. He sits facing you from the foot of your bed, you sit cross-legged facing him, leaning in slightly.

You watch his nimble fingers working away, the way his tongue darts out to wet the paper, his eyes never leaving yours, making sure you pay attention. It makes you feel hot all over, squirming as he’s twisting off the end giving you a little grin, proudly showing it off, “… and that is how it’s done.”

“Uhh cool, thanks.” You move to pluck it from his fingertips but he snatches it away.

“Ah, ah, ah don’t you know the rules… roller’s rights?”

You look at him in confusion, he explains, “The roller always takes the first hit.”

“Oh, ok.” You mumble and settle back down into the pillows. He lights up the end then takes a few puffs before passing it over to you, you take a deep drag and choke almost immediately. He laughs before smacking you on the back, before rubbing in soothing circles “Hey, take it easy… just breathe.”

He reaches across you to the water sitting on your bedside table, “Here take a sip, it’ll help.”

You take a few sips of water and steady your breathing before he continues, his hand still on your back, “When you take a hit it’s just a few little breaths in, slowly, lightly. Don’t try to take too much at once, it’s not the same as smoking a cigarette, ok?”

“Yep, uhh huh.” You croak out.

“And hold the smoke in your mouth first, then breathe in from here…” he rubs a hand over his belly, up high by his diaphragm.

“You wanna try again?”

You nod humming in response and he nods back for you to go ahead.

You follow his advice and it goes better, you try again and it’s even easier.

“Alright, now pass it back.” He holds out a hand and you hand it over to him.

“There, now give it a few minutes before you try again, it’s your first time don’t wanna go too hard, too fast.” He takes another puff.

You giggle, teasing, “But what if I want hard and fast?”

And then he’s choking, spluttering, coughing up smoke.

“Jesus H Christ… princess you can’t say shit like that, someone might take it the wrong way one day.” He gasps out.

You roll your eyes, “Eddie, come on no one is thinking of me like that, get real.”

He hesitates a moment, “What if… what if I told you I thought of you like that?”

“Haha, very funny…” you reply sarcastically, but he’s not laughing, “… wait a minute you’re serious?”

“Yeah, you got no fucking idea…”

“Are you sure that isn’t just the weed talking, I mean I heard it can make people-”

He cuts you off with a fierce kiss, pushing his lips to yours forcefully, nipping at your bottom lip gently, the joint burning down steadily in his limp grip. When he breaks away, he looks at you with lust clouded eyes, “Oh, I’m real fucking sure, princess. I have been crushing on you since God only knows when.”

You look up at him through your lashes, bashfully, “Ummm I’ve been crushing on you pretty much since the day we met.” You confess.

“Shit… can I fucking kiss you again?” He breathes out.

“Yeah… umm, maybe just get rid of that first.” You nod down to his fingers.

“Oh, right… yeah.” He mumbles reaching for his black metal lunchbox, snubbing out the joint on the lid and tossing it inside.

He looks back over at you, leaning in slowly, you don’t know why, but you’re blurting out, “imavirgin…” the words meld together in your embarrassment.

“What was that? Didn’t quite get that...”

You take a deep steadying breath, making sure to enunciate clearly this time, you repeat, “I’m a virgin.”

He lets out a guttural groan, “Fuck, princess is that true? No one… no one’s ever touched you before?”

“Umm no never… never been kissed before either…” You admit shyly.

“That’s quite a few firsts tonight, isn’t it? Do you wanna tackle a few more?”

You nod, pouting at him, “Please Eddie, kiss me again?”

“How could I refuse?”

He swoops in capturing your lips between his own once more, you feel his tongue probing for entrance you let out a needy whine and it’s slipping in alongside your own.

You tangle your hands into his hair you gasp as he lifts you into his lap, you pull away, “Wh-what’re you doing, don’t I’m heavy…”

“Oh no, you are just perfect, you sit right there, right on top of my cock.” He emphasises this with a roll of his hips and the hard bulge of his dick grinds into your heated core. You whine again at the sensation, feeling a wetness pool between your thighs.

He pulls you back in for another kiss, sloppier than the previous and you grind back against him with a moan.

“Did you mean it?” He gasps into your mouth.

“Huh?”

“When you said you want it ‘hard and fast’… or was that just a joke?”

“I dunno… it wasn’t entirely a joke…”

“You think you can handle it hard and fast, do you think you’ll still like me after, if I’m rough?” He growls.

“Please Eddie, I want you. I want you so bad I can’t breathe.” You gasp.

“Ok, but we’re gonna start off slow alright? Then we can ramp it up to hard and fast.” He chuckles darkly.

As he resumes kissing you his hands move to lift your shirt and you pull away suddenly.

“You ok, sweetheart? You change your mind?” Concern laces his voice.

“No… no it’s not that… just, could we maybe turn the lights off…?”

It’s like a switch flips in his head, “Oh no, no sweetheart I wanna see all of you… every gorgeous bit. The things I would do to you…”

He groans his hands dropping to your plump legs that straddle his own, squeezing them softly, urging you to move against him more firmly, “Wanna bury my face between these thighs… so fucking gorgeous… wanna do so much with ‘em, bite ‘em, suck em, kiss ‘em… push your legs together and fuck them.”

He drops one hand to cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh, he growls, “Oh and if you let me take you from behind, I could watch your ass jiggle as I pound into you, maybe slap it a bit if you’d let me… would you like that princess? Want me to slap that fucking glorious ass of yours? You have no idea how many times I’ve been distracted by just that… thinking about bending you over and just taking you…” You’re panting desperately at his touch, barely done anything and he’s already got you absolutely wrecked.

He moves his hand up to your chest, groping your breasts he lets out a guttural moan as you whine pitifully, “And these tits, don’t even get me started on those… absolutely perfect… shove my face into them too, suck on your nipples, pinch ‘em ‘til you fucking scream… oh god, I’d love it if you held your tits together… let me fuck em ‘til I cum all over your pretty face, watch it drip down your chin…” his filthy mouth has you soaking your panties, grinding down into him.

You barely register that he’s popped the button on your jeans sliding them down slowly until he flips you over onto your back and you gasp, you never knew he was so strong, the way he was manhandling you like it was nothing.

He kneels between your legs, towering over you, you yelp as he grabs your jeans roughly pulling them the rest of the way down before you can protest.

You unconsciously tug the hem of your shirt lower to cover yourself and he swats your hands away, “Ah, ah sweetheart none of that I wanna see you… how about this, if I take off my shirt you let me take off yours?”

You bite you lip as you consider it, God do you wanna see him… bare chest, tattoos all on display… you nod nervously, mumbling “O-ok… b-but you first…?”

He concedes, “Ok, sweetheart me first.”

He hooks a hand into the collar of his shirt pulls it off and tosses it across the room blindly, your eyes rake over him, practically salivating at the sight, lingering on the sparse trail of hair peeking out over his belt. He’s smirking down at you as you pout up at him, “Pants too?”

“What about them?” He teases.

“Wan’ you to take yours off too… ‘s only fair…”

He grins devilishly, eyes glinting, “How about you take them off for me, princess?”

You sit up and place a shaky hand over his belt buckle, your fingers just grazing the hair of his happy trail. You undo the belt clumsily and unzip his jeans before rolling them down his thighs slowly. His baggy blue and white chequered boxers do little to hide his erection as it tents the fabric there.

Before you can do anything else he’s pushing you back into the pillows behind you, “Now, I seem to remember that the deal was… tit for tat, or rather tats for tits you may say…” he chuckles.

You giggle and resist the urge to fight him when his hands drop to toy with the hem of your shirt, he leans in easing your shirt up, trailing kisses over your belly, your chest, until he pulls your shirt over your head and tosses that aside too, diving back in to kiss you eagerly on the lips. He pulls away leaving you breathless, humming in appreciation, “Beautiful…”

“Eddie stoop…” You whine swatting at him.

“Never, I meant what I said and I’m gonna suck on those tits ‘til you’re begging me for more… there’s uhh… something I want you to do for me though…”

“What’s that?” You mumble curiously.

“Don’t call me Eddie. Do you think you could… call me ‘daddy’ while we…”

You gasp, “Fuck… yeah I can do that for you… daddy.”

“Yeah, just like that, sweetheart.” He moans encouragingly before ducking his head to the crook of your neck biting, kissing, mouthing on it as his hands wrap around you. Calloused, ringed fingers brush against your back as he fiddles with the clasp of your bra, he gets it loose and slips it off down your arms.

He trails kisses down your chest until he reaches a nipple, sucking it into his mouth, laving over it with his tongue. His hands join his mouth, pushing your tits closer together, pinching and rolling the other nipple between his fingers. Your breath hitches at his ministrations and you let out a shaky moan.

“So, fucking responsive… love that I’m the only one who gets to do this to you…” He growls against your skin. He takes the hand closest to his mouth and caresses your mound, before dipping his fingers under the waistband. He runs his fingertips through your slick, teasing your entrance before dragging the up to circle your clit.

“All of this is just for me…” He murmurs, pulling away from you chest briefly.

“Yes, just you… no one else.” You gasp in response.

“God fucking damn, that’s right. I’m the only one that gets to touch you like this, isn’t that right?”

You mumble in assent, “Mhmmm that’s right… daddy, only you.”

“Fuck, princess gonna make me bust a nut and we haven’t even started yet.”

Your legs quiver on either side of him as he plunges two fingers into you crooking them against your soft, spongy walls. You can hear his rings clink together and feel them bump against your entrance, the sound met with a wet squelch as your cunt takes all he has to offer.

His thumb moves to press against your clit in clumsy circles, you grab onto his shoulders tightly, there’s a tension mounting, coiling deep in your belly.

“That’s it princess, you gonna cum for daddy? Cum on my fingers for me.”

Something in you snaps and the tension is released all at once, your walls flutter on his fingertips, your release gushing all over them as you moan breathily.

He grins at you proudly as you gasp for breath, “So, another first for you… what’s that now, first joint, first kiss, first orgasm from my fingers… what’s next my tongue or my cock.

“Jesus fucking Christ Eddie…” he gives you a disapproving look and you try again, “please… please, daddy.”

“Please what, sweetheart… use your words.”

“Please… fuck me…” You whine.

“How do you want it?” He asks firmly, “Tongue. Or cock?”

“Wan’ your cock, wan’ you to fuck me hard, show me I’m yours…” You whimper in response, weakly reaching for his boxers.

“You on any kind of birth control, sweetheart?” He asks in earnest.

“Mhhmm… yep I am.”

“Good… that’s good… now you’re sure about this, right?”

“Yes, never wanted anything more in my life… please…”

He ducks down and presses a kiss to your thigh before tugging your panties down your legs. He looks up at you with a little grin, panties hanging off his finger, “Mind if I keep these?”

“You can have whatever you want so long as you make me cum again daddy…”

He groans in response eyes squeezing shut briefly, and he palms at his cock. He drapes your panties over his lunchbox before sliding down his boxers to join his jeans. His thick, weepy length bobs up between his legs, precum bubbling up at the flushed tip. You gasp at the sight, “You’re so… big… can I touch it first?”

“Gonna gimme an ego sweetheart…” he mumbles as he reaches out for your hand guiding it onto his stiff length.

His precum slicks the motions of your hand, he controls the pace, running your hand along his length the way he likes. You devote all your attention to his cock while he watches you appreciatively.

When you swipe your thumb over the head on the upstroke, he growls lowly, “That’s enough now, princess. This time you’re gonna soak my cock with that tight little cunt of yours.” He looks into your eyes, his own dark with lust.

He pulls his jeans and boxers all the way off dropping them over the edge of the bed.

He pushes you back down into the pillows with a hand on your shoulder before moving to sweep your hair out of your face. He grabs your hand, slick and sticky from rubbing his flushed cock and holds it in front of your face, “Look you got your hand all messy. Lick it clean princess.” He orders.

He pushes your own hand to your mouth and you swipe your tongue over your palm before wrapping your lips around your fingers with a low moan. “Such a good girl for daddy.” He hums, you can taste him on your skin you whine as you imagine what it would be like to suck on his fat cock.

He smirks down at you while he grips his shaft at the base, rubbing the head through your glistening folds. Then another image springs to mind, one he’d painted for you, of him fucking your breasts, losing himself completely and cumming all over your face… how high would it splatter, would it get in your mouth, would it taste like this.

He pulls your hand away from your mouth leaning in for a kiss as he forces his tip inside your dribbling entrance. He swallows up all your little whines and gasps as he drops a hand between you to rub at your swollen clit. He sinks into you further and further until he’s buried deeper than you ever thought possible.

“Gonna give it to you hard and fast real soon princess, but we gotta get you a little warmed up for me first…”

He rolls his hips thrusting shallowly as you adjust to the sensation.

“Please… hmmm… fuck, faster please daddy. Feels so… mhnnn… feels so good” You pant out, hips rising to meet his.

“With pleasure sweetheart.” His hands move to grip your hips bruisingly tight. As he increases the pace, you feel his balls slapping against your ass, the room is filled with all sorts of obscene, wet sounds.

You twist your hand into his curls, gazing up at his rosy face, sweat dripping from his brow, eyes blown wide with lust. When you give a little tug on his hair, he lets out a deep, rumbling moan.

He hooks his arms beneath your legs pulling them up over his shoulders sinking into you deeper with this new angle, “You like being filled up, sweetheart? Feel so good when daddy’s deep in you? You gonna let me cum buried inside you?”

“Please… god yes, want it so bad daddy, want you to fill me up with your cum.”

He brings a hand up to your chin, thumb sliding over it ‘til it rests on your bottom lip as you whimper beneath him, he eases his thumb between your lips and you suck on it mindlessly.

“You’re gonna take everything I give you right?”

You nod, mumbling around his thumb in agreement.

“Then open.” He forces your jaw down with his thumb, you look up at him a little confused.

Suddenly he spits in your mouth, ramming his cock into you at the same time, you whimper.

“Now swallow.” He demands and you do so, your saliva mixing with his as it slides down your throat and your walls flex around him of their own accord.

“Oh, you liked that did you?”

“Y-yes daddy.”

“Oh, you’re such a good girl for me. You do like it hard, don’t you? Gonna fuck you so hard you can’t walk.”

“Please… fuck, please gonna cum again.”

“Then cum for me. Squeeze on my dick, lemme feel it. Cum for daddy.”

You wail, chanting “Daddy, daddy, daddy… fuck ‘m cumming.” Your back arches, head thrown back gasping as you clamp down around him, your release running over his cock in rivulets and he continues to pound into you, fucking you through your orgasm.

You fall back limply still spasming around him when he reaches his peak, he growls, “Yeah that’s it princess, you’re gonna take all my fucking cum… take everything daddy gives you.”

He empties his heavy balls deep inside you with a deep, strung-out groan, you can feel his warm seed flood your cunt, drenching your already slick channel.

He collapses on top of you, sweaty bodies pressed together and he tries to nuzzle in even closer.

“God, that was good sweetheart.” He pants in your ear.

“Yeah.” You mumble in agreement running a hand over his back tracing random patterns.

He sighs and you feel his breath against your cheek while his cock softens slowly slipping out of you. You can feel your combined fluids leaking out of your entrance slipping down between your ass to pool on your bed.

Eddie rolls off of you wandering off naked, when he returns, he’s cleaned himself off, approaching you carrying a warm, damp cloth, he runs it over your body soothingly, between your legs cleaning you off.

He stoops down untangling his boxers from his jeans slipping them on as he moves to your wardrobe rifling around til he finds some pyjamas. He helps you into them gently and wraps the covers around you and turns out the lights before slotting himself in behind you. He presses a kiss to your shoulder and wraps his arms around you with a sigh.

You melt into his embrace and he wishes you sweet dreams, you return the sentiment. The pair of you doze off smiling contentedly in your post-orgasm bliss.

Eddie wakes in very early hours of the morning, still happy and content, girl of his dreams wrapped up in his arms. His thoughts turn sour as he lays there, the demons in his head tormenting him…

Jesus Christ what have you done, that was her first time you fucking pig… you told her to call you ‘daddy’ what is wrong with you… fucking freak… shit that’s what everyone’s gonna think the freak and the fatty, both of you together that’ll send them all into a frenzy and her oh, she’ll never hear the end of it, do you really think she deserves that… do you think you deserve to be happy…

And he’s slipping out from under the covers shrouded in his shame, careful not to rouse you he dresses and collects his belongings. He pauses briefly before pocketing your panties, one last little souvenir. Sick pervert. He shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts before taking off into the early dawn.

You wake up a few hours later, sore, mumbling his name, hands searching for his warmth only to come up with nothing. Eyes snapping open you look around in confusion, you find that all of his belongings are gone all evidence that he was even here gone.

He’d be back, for sure he’d be back. Why would he leave…? But he doesn’t come back, doesn’t answer any of your calls. This continues for the rest of the weekend, you convince yourself it’ll be different when you get to school.

Monday rolls around, your stomach twists into knots, did he regret it, wake up next to you with a sudden clarity, no longer horny or high and realise he didn’t actually want someone who looked like you. Or maybe he was just worried what other people would think if he dated someone like you… good enough to fuck, but not good enough to keep around.

You can’t believe that you’d let yourself believe that it could be something more for even a second. Tears sting your eyes and you swipe them away angrily, you huff sulking off into the bathroom, don’t be so fucking dumb, of course he wouldn’t want you just deal with it. You splash cold water over your face and take a few deep breaths to steady yourself.

You end up late for homeroom, only just entering the room as the teacher calls your name. Eddie isn’t sitting in his usual seat, instead he’s sat beside Gareth chatting away about something to do with the band and their show tomorrow night.

He doesn’t look at you as you pass him, you slink off to the last available seats, it’s fine, it’s fine… more tears threaten to slip out but you bite them back.

He avoids you for the rest of the day, you don’t even see him at lunch, but then you pass him on your way out of the cafeteria, you call out to him, “Hey, Eddie there you are I’ve been looking for you all day.”

But he walks right passed you, blank-faced, staring straight passed you. It’s like a knife to your heart, your frozen can’t move, can’t speak, the tears you’ve been fighting all day spill out. Someone bumps into your shoulder and of course it has to be them, “Watch it fatass.”

And there’s giggles as they walk on you can hear them saying to one another, “She was fucking crying did you see her, what a fucking loser… not even the freak wants to be seen with her now.”

That’s the final straw, you don’t even bother collecting your stuff from your locker you just… leave. You walk all the way home blindly, the tears stoped at some point leaving your eyes puffy and stinging, your nails dig into your palms leaving little half-moon impressions.

You let yourself in trudging to your room, stripping off your clothes and pulling on anything that’s nearby before crawling into bed burying yourself beneath the covers.

Your mum wakes you when she gets home, you brush her off telling her you’re not feeling well, trying to pass it off as really bad period cramps. You tell her you might not go in to school tomorrow, she offers to bring you something to eat and a hot water bottle you nod mutely, you don’t really feel like talking much.

You spend the next few days like that in a haze, numb to the world but acutely aware of the stabbing pain in your chest and the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. By the fourth day Nancy stops by to check on you, it’s not like you to miss so many days of school, let alone walk out in the middle of the day.

She enters your room tentatively calling out to you, she sits on the edge of your bed as you groan from your cocoon of blankets.

“You wanna tell me what happened?”

You give a little grunt, she brushes your greasy hair behind your ear gently, “Want a hug?” She offers.

“No, ‘m all gross.” You mumble pulling your self to sit up at the very least, but then the tears flow anew, that’s exactly why he doesn’t want you… fat, ugly, gross, loser… every insult ever hurled at you streams through your brain.

Nancy wraps her arms around you despite your attempts to push her away.

“You know I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong. Your mum said you haven’t been eating properly, won’t come out of your room, i haven’t seen you like this since… well in a really long time.”

You breathe in shakily trying to stem the flow of tears, “I’m a fucking idiot that’s what’s wrong.”

“Hey, hey that’s not true, tell me what actually happened.”

You shake your head pushing away from her, “Can’t.”

“Tough ‘cause I’m not leaving ‘til you do.” She folds her arms over her chest giving you a determined look.

“Well, be prepared to stay a while then.”

“Don’t be stubborn.” She chides.

“You don’t be stubborn.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Fine, Ugh fine…”

“Go on I’m listening.”

“He doesn’t want me, doesn’t want anything to do with me now.” You can’t bring yourself to look at her while you speak.

“Who’re you talking about?”

“Eddie.”

“That’s not possible, that guy looks at you like you hung the moon. What happened? Did you tell him how you feel or…”

“No… well yes, but… ok, so he came over Friday night. You know how my parents went away?” She nods as you continue, “So, I asked him what it was like to smoke weed, like we always smoke together when we’re at his place, but never that and he was showing me how to roll a joint and god he looked so hot and I made some dumb joke about wanting it ‘hard and fast’ and he kissed me and told me he had a crush on me and I told him as well… and one thing kinda led to another and we ended up having sex and…” you trail off uncertain of how much detail is too much detail.

“None of that sounds bad so far, where did you get the idea that he doesn’t want you if he’s already slept with you.”

“When I woke up in the morning… after… he was gone, he didn’t answer any of my calls the whole weekend but I thought I’d give him the benefit of the doubt… I dunno, whatever. Anyway then at school on Monday he acted like I didn’t even exist, walked right passed me and they had to see it, had to comment on it.”

You hazard a glance at her and you can practically see the steam billowing out from her ears, “I’m sorry he what?!”

“I just I don’t wanna talk about it anymore, the year’s almost over and just like before he’ll be disappearing from my life again… this time just a little sooner than planned.”

“I’m gonna talk to him.” She says firmly.

“What? No! Nance don’t… please don’t… promise me you won’t.”

“I…” she falters at the look in your eye, “Alright, fine I won’t.”

You shoot her a stern look, “Really, I promise I won’t.” She insist.

“I mean it don’t.” You finish firmly.

“Ok… have you eaten today? What did you have?”

“I did, I had tea and crackers.”

“Is that it? All day that’s all you had?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s not like I’m doing anything today other than wallowing in bed and it’s not as if I’ll starve to death.”

“You know starving yourself is just as bad as overeating, neither of which is going to help you right now. Come on get out of bed go have a shower, I’ll make you something to eat and we can watch a movie… we haven’t had a girl’s night in a while you know.”

You give in to her pestering and it does help to take your mind off things for a bit. She makes you promise that she’ll see you up and about next week.

Nancy doesn’t break her promise at first, not exactly but she does go straight to Steve right after your little ‘girl’s night’.

“You want me to what?”

She rolls her eyes, “Oh, relax it’s not that big a deal just talk to the guy.”

“Why me? If it’s not such a big deal you talk to him.”

“I told you I promised y/n I wouldn’t so I’m not.”

“Still don’t get why it has to be me.” He grumbles.

“What are you scared of him or something?” She teases.

“No! It’s just weird you want me to talk to him about his sex life, c’mon that’s weird.”

“Hey, y/n is your friend too and she’s really hurting right now, just talk to the guy.”

“Why couldn’t it be one of those Hellfire guys instead?”

“Well, I don’t really know them, I know you… but I guess we could talk to them too. Maybe they could help, we can ask Mike where to find them.”

That’s how they find themselves grouped together with a couple of the guys from Hellfire Club, on Eddie Munson’s front porch. Nancy knocks on the front door and Eddie tumbles out to greet them “Wheeler? Harrington? The fuck are you two doing here?”

He spots Gareth and Jeff just behind them, “Emerson… what the fuck is going on?”

Nancy pokes him in the chest angrily, “Inside. Now, Munson.”

He holds up his hands in surrender stumbling backwards inside the trailer.

When everyone is inside, he tries again, “Right, so is anyone gonna fill me in here? What the fuck is going on?”

The boys let her go off on her tirade, her promise to you forgotten amidst her anger, “Don’t play dumb Munson, we’re here about what happened with y/n.”

“Shit… yeah I know I took things too far but tell her it’s ok, I’ll stay away from now on.”

“That is exactly the problem, why are you staying away?”

“Just imagine what people would say about us, the freak and the fatty…”

Gareth speaks up taken aback, “What the fuck man since when do you call her that?”

Eddie sighs “I don’t, it’s just what people would say and she doesn’t deserve that, she doesn’t need people judging her and they would if we were together. Why would anyone want to be seen with the freak nah she doesn’t need that.”

“Since when has that stopped her before, she’s with you all the time?” Jeff counters.

“Yeah, but that’s different it’ll be so much worse for her if we’re dating, this is for her own good, she’d be better off without me all together.” He protests with a tone of finality.

“Shouldn’t you let her decide that for herself? You don’t think you’re hurting her right now… acting like this. Imagine what she’s feeling, what she’s thinking. She’s alone in her room, hasn’t left for days, hasn’t been eating, torturing herself over why you’d do this.” Nancy attempts to reason with him.

Reality comes crashing down around him as he realises what he’s done, “Oh fuck I’m… shit I’m a fucking asshole. I let my own fucking insecurities get to me I didn’t stop to think how she’d feel, how she’d see it… fuck, fuck, fuck.” He paces back and forth tugging on his curls anxiously. His head snaps up, locking on to Nancy, “What do I do… what can I do?”

Steve speaks up for the first time, side-eyeing Nancy as he does so, “You fucking apologise man, take her flowers, beg for her forgiveness… whatever it takes.”

“Right… right.” He mutters to himself before his head pops up again, “You guys uh wanna like leave, or…?”

“Yeah, we’ll go.” Steve replies leading the way out of the trailer.

Nancy lets the other two go first before turning back to Eddie, “You fix this Munson… and I was never here, ok?”

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uhh… yeah ok.”

He stands beneath your bedroom window tossing rocks at it til one connects. You peek your head out at the noise and see him standing there, arms laden with flowers and candy. You don’t quite trust yourself to speak first so you stare down at him expectantly.

He finally breaks the silence, “Can I come in? We gotta talk.”

Your despair solidifies into bitter anger, “Oh, now you wanna talk… fuck off.”

“Please… please just hear me out.” He calls back desperately.

“Why the fuck should I? I gave you so many chances, why now?”

“I’m a fucking idiot, I know that and I’m sorry I’m so so sorry. Please just let me in, let me explain and then I’ll go if you want, I promise.”

“Alright, fine. You better make it quick though… you know the way in. Come up.” You slip back into your room slamming the window shut.

He takes the stairs in leaps and bounds when he gets inside, hesitating outside your bedroom before steeling himself and opening the door.

The second he steps inside it’s like all moisture is wicked away from his mouth he stands there for a moment in silence. You prompt him to begin, “Well? You gonna actually speak or-”

He blurts out, “I love you…”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “Yeah, sure you fucking do… not falling for that one again.”

He persists, “I’m really, really, really sorry, you have no idea. I uh got these for you.” He thrusts out the flowers and a box of candy in your direction.

You eye them sceptically, snarling, “And what some flowers and chocolates are gonna make me just fall right into bed with you again… ‘daddy’?”

“I never should have… I took things way too far for your first time I am so fucking sorry. I really do love you though.” He says in earnest.

Your voice cracks, “Why did you leave? Why do you always fucking leave me?”

“Because I was a dumb fucking piece of shit too wrapped up in my own insecurities… thinking I don’t deserve you, don’t deserve happiness… worried about what people would think of you if you were dating me, the things they’d say…thought you’d be better off without me.”

“It’s not on you to make decisions like that for me, you ass. The things people would say about me because I’m dating you… fuck that’d just fly right over my head ‘cause I’d be with you. And that shit about you not deserving happiness is just that, absolute shit… of course you deserve happiness. And by doing this you deprived both of us of a chance at happiness.”

“Is… is it too late… can I… can we try again?” He stutters out hopefully.

Your resolve slips, “You really hurt me Munson…”

His face falls, “I know, I’m so sorry… and I will spend the rest of my fucking life making it up to you if… if you’d let me?”

“It… it wasn’t too far you know, umm I actually really liked it… all of it.”

His eyes search your own desperately, “Does that mean…?”

“Yes Eddie, it means we can try again.”

His face lights up and he drops the flowers and the candy onto your bed, he moves towards you but stops suddenly, “Can… can I kiss you?”

You give a small nod and he dives in kissing you slowly, deeply, with purpose. He pulls away and asks breathily, “Can I stay the night?”

“Don’t push your luck.” You warn.

He gasps, “No! Not… not like that… I mean not that I wouldn’t want that, but… I mean, just let me sleep here, that’s it just sleep, cuddle a bit. Then in the morning I’ll show you how it should have gone the first time, like this past week never happened.”

“O-ok, yeah we can do that.”

“Thank you.” He hums pulling you against him, nuzzling into your neck.

And true to his word that is all you do that night, falling asleep wrapped up in one another, peacefully. He wakes you in the morning with a sweet kiss, he says he’d offer to make you breakfast but the best he could do is cereal so he takes you out to the diner instead.

When you tell Nancy what happened she doesn’t seem too surprised, “Good I’m glad the two of you worked that out, I’m happy for you really… but if he ever does anything like that again you tell me straight away. I’ll sort him right out.”

You shoot her a suspicious look, “Nance, did you talk to him?”

“What? No! No, I promised I wouldn’t… it was Steve and a couple of your Hellfire friends I swear.”

“Uh huh and how did they know about it?” You probe.

She folds easily, “Alright fine I talked to him, I’m sorry but-”

“No, it’s fine. Actually, I’m glad you did, thank you.”

“No problem… so, now can we talk about it… what’s he like in the bedroom?”

You gasp mock scandalised, “Nancy Wheeler, how dare you…” you can’t maintain it for long and burst into giggles, “He is gooood I’ll say that much, very generous in every sense of the word.”

She raises a brow, “You mean…” and indicates size with her hands.

You nod “Oh, boy do I, and he knows what to do with it.”

She chuckles at your response, you ask about her, “How’re you and Jonathan?”

“Good, we’re good…”

The two of you chat long into the night, you’re glad of a friend like her, glad she stepped in when she did else who knows how things could’ve gone.

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reasonsforhope · 1 year

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"If I wanted to convince you of the reality of human progress, of the fact that we as a species have advanced materially, morally, and politically over our time on this planet, I could quote you chapter and verse from a thick stack of development statistics.

I could tell you that a little more than 200 years ago, nearly half of all children born died before they reached their 15th birthday, and that today it’s less than 5 percent globally. I could tell you that in pre-industrial times, starvation was a constant specter and life expectancy was in the 30s at best. [Note: This is average life expectancy, old people did still exist in olden times] I could tell you that at the dawn of the 19th century, barely more than one person in 10 was literate, while today that ratio has been nearly reversed. I could tell you that today is, on average, the best time to be alive in human history.

But that doesn’t mean you’ll be convinced.

In one 2017 Pew poll, a plurality of Americans — people who, perhaps more than anywhere else, are heirs to the benefits of centuries of material and political progress — reported that life was better 50 years ago than it is today. A 2015 survey of thousands of adults in nine rich countries found that 10 percent or fewer believed that the world was getting better. On the internet, a strange nostalgia persists for the supposedly better times before industrialization, when ordinary people supposedly worked less and life was allegedly simpler and healthier. (They didn’t and it wasn’t.)

Looking backward, we imagine a halcyon past that never was; looking forward, it seems to many as if, in the words of young environmental activist Greta Thunberg, “the world is getting more and more grim every day.”

So it’s boom times for doom times. But the apocalyptic mindset that has gripped so many of us not only understates how far we’ve come, but how much further we can still go. The real story of progress today is its remarkable expansion to the rest of the world in recent decades. In 1950, life expectancy in Africa was just 40; today, it’s past 62. Meanwhile more than 1 billion people have moved out of extreme poverty since 1990 alone.

But there’s more to do — much more. That hundreds of millions of people still go without the benefit of electricity or live in states still racked by violence and injustice isn’t so much an indictment of progress as it is an indication that there is still more low-hanging fruit to harvest.

The world hasn’t become a better place for nearly everyone who lives on it because we wished it so. The astounding economic and technological progress made over the past 200 years has been the result of deliberate policies, a drive to invent and innovate, one advance building upon another. And as our material condition improved, so, for the most part, did our morals and politics — not as a side effect, but as a direct consequence. It’s simply easier to be good when the world isn’t zero-sum.

Which isn’t to say that the record of progress is one of unending wins. For every problem it solved — the lack of usable energy in the pre-fossil fuel days, for instance — it often created a new one, like climate change. But just as a primary way climate change is being addressed is through innovation that has drastically reduced the price of clean energy, so progress tends to be the best route to solving the problems that progress itself can create.

The biggest danger we face today, if we care about actually making the future a more perfect place, isn’t that industrial civilization will choke on its own exhaust or that democracy will crumble or that AI will rise up and overthrow us all. It’s that we will cease believing in the one force that raised humanity out of tens of thousands of years of general misery: the very idea of progress.

Changing Humanity's "Normal" Forever

Progress may be about where we’re going, but it’s impossible to understand without returning to where we’ve been. So let’s take a trip back to the foreign country that was the early years of the 19th century.

In 1820, according to data compiled by the historian Michail Moatsos, about three-quarters of the world’s population earned so little that they could not afford even a tiny living space, some heat and, hopefully, enough food to stave off malnutrition.

It was a state that we would now call “extreme poverty,” except that for most people back then, it wasn’t extreme — it was simply life.

What matters here for the story of progress isn’t the fact that the overwhelming majority of humankind lived in destitution. It’s that this was the norm, and had been the norm since essentially… forever. Poverty, illiteracy, premature death — these weren’t problems, as we would come to define them in our time. They were simply the background reality of being human, as largely unchangeable as birth and death itself...

Between 10,000 BCE and 1700, the average global population growth rate was just 0.04 percent per year. And that wasn’t because human beings weren’t having babies. They were simply dying, in great numbers: at birth, giving birth, in childhood from now-preventable diseases, and in young adulthood from now-preventable wars and violence.

It was only with the progress of industrialization that we broke out of [this long cycle], producing enough food to feed the mounting billions, enough scientific breakthroughs to conquer old killers like smallpox and the measles, and enough political advances to dwindle violent death.

Between 1800 and today, our numbers grew from around 1 billion to 8 billion. And that 8 billion aren’t just healthier, richer, and better educated. On average, they can expect to live more than twice as long. The writer Steven Johnson has called this achievement humanity’s “extra life” — but that extra isn’t just the decades that have been added to our lifespans. It’s the extra people that have been added to our numbers. I’m probably one of them, and you probably are too...

The progress we’ve earned has hardly been uninterrupted or perfectly distributed... [But] once we could prove in practice that the lot of humanity didn’t have to be hand-to-mouth existence, we could see that progress could continue to expand.

Current Progress "Flows Overwhelmingly" to the Developing World

The long twentieth century came late to the Global South, but it did get there. Between 1960 and today, India and China, together home to nearly one in every three people alive today, have seen life expectancy rise from 45 to 70 and 33 to 78, respectively. Per-capita GDP over those years rose some 2,600 percent for India and an astounding 13,400 percent for China, with the latter lifting an estimated 800 million people out of extreme poverty.

In the poorer countries of sub-Saharan Africa, progress has been slower and later, but shouldn’t be underestimated. When we see the drastic decline in child mortality — which has fallen since 1990 from 18.1 percent of all children in that region to 7.4 percent in 2021 — or the more than 20 million measles deaths that have been prevented since 2000 in Africa alone, this is progress continuing to happen now, with the benefits overwhelmingly flowing to the poorest among us.

Vanishing Autocracies

In 1800, according to Our World in Data, zero — none, nada, zip — people lived in what we would now classify as a liberal democracy. Just 22 million people — about 2 percent of the global population — lived in what the site classifies as “electoral autocracies,” meaning that what democracy they had was limited, and limited to a subset of the population.

One hundred years later, things weren’t much better — there were actual liberal democracies, but fewer than 1 percent of the world’s population lived in them...

Today just 2 billion people live in countries that are classified as closed autocracies — relatively few legal rights, no real electoral democracy — and most of them are in China...

Expanding Human Rights

All you have to do is roll the clock back a few decades to see the way that rights, on the whole, have been extended wider and wider: to LGBTQ citizens, to people of color, to women. The fundamental fact is that as much as the technological and economic world of 2023 would be unrecognizable to people in 1800, the same is true of the political world.

Nor can you disentangle that political progress from material progress. Take the gradual but definitive emancipation of women. That has been a hard-fought, ongoing battle, chiefly waged by women who saw the inherent unfairness of a male-dominated society.

But it was aided by the invention of labor-saving technologies in the home like washing machines and refrigerators that primarily gave time back to women and made it easier for them to move into the workforce.

These are all examples of the expansion of the circle of moral concern — the enlargement of who and what is considered worthy of respect and rights, from the foundation of the family or tribe all the way to humans around the world (and increasingly non-human animals as well). And it can’t be separated from the hard fact of material progress.

Leaving a Zero-Sum World Behind

The pre-industrial world was a zero-sum one... In a zero-sum world, you advance only at the expense of others, by taking from a set stock, not by adding, which is why wars of conquest between great powers were so common hundreds of years ago, or why homicide between neighbors was so much more frequent in the pre-industrial era.

We have obviously not eradicated violence, including by the state itself. But a society that can produce more of what it needs and wants is one that will be less inclined to fight over what it has, either with its neighbors or with itself. It’s not that the humans of 2023 are necessarily better, more moral, than their ancestors 200 or more years ago. It’s that war and violence cease to make economic sense...

Doomerism, at its heart, may be that exhaustion made manifest.

But just as we need continued advances in clean tech or biosecurity to protect ourselves from some of the existential threats we’ve inadvertently created, so do we need continued progress to address the problems that have been with us always: of want, of freedom, even of mortality. Nothing can dispel the terminal exhaustion that seems endemic in 2023 better than the idea that there is so much more left to do to lift millions out of poverty and misery while protecting the future — which is possible, thanks to the path of the progress we’ve made.

And we’ll know we’re successful if our descendants can one day look back on the present with the same mix of sympathy and relief with which we should look back on our past. How, they’ll wonder, did they ever live like that?"

-via Vox, 3/20/23

Note: I would seriously recommend reading the whole article--because as long as this post is, this is only about half of it! The article contains a lot more information about the hows and whys of human progress, and it also definitely made me cry the first time I read it.

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hajihiko · 1 year

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I interpret Kaz's relationship with his dad a little differently from that one convo. He says something like 'he knew better than anyone that we didn't have the money' and I took that as his dad wanted him to go and have fun like a normal kid and not worry about the money. Of course, I don't justify physical discipline and it is abuse, even if the parent is well intentioned. I think that Kaz does love his dad and they're relationship might be more complicated. But you know that's just one of the many things he needs to work out in therapy.

(Again this is just my interpretation and I'm not saying yours is wrong. I do love the art.)

Just gonna use this as a little jumping point to talk about this bc why not, warnings for obviously sensitive topics

I dont think you're wrong, I actually probably agree, but one thing;

It's not uncommon for public perception to weigh more than actual actions or intent. In the example given, I see it like so; yeah, Souda sr. wanted his son to go on a field trip that they couldn't really afford. Yeah, Kaz wanted to help the household by not going on the trip and saving the money. Both have good intent here. It's not about that, though, because in Souda sr.'s eyes, refusing to go on the trip is like admitting that they're poor, which is like saying the father can't provide for his family, which is like public humiliation- in his eyes. In a fit of rage (and insecurity, if it's something that's already weighing on his mind, as these things often go) the assumption isnt that his son was trying to help, just that he did something that makes the father look bad. Which is a bigger trigger than most things, often, for patriarchal authority figures.

And it not an excuse for physical harm, no, nothing is. Probably, Souda sr. knows that, and didn't mean to snap- doesnt think he committed an act of child abuse- but he's been under a lot of stress, and his son was talking back, and, well.

I think they do usually get along alright, and Souda sr. does his best to provide for himself and his son and keep their relationship good, and Kazuichi is genuinely grateful for everything his dad's done for him? But in the end, it's another person Kazuichi trusted teaching him the lesson that people will let him down and hurt him, in some way at some point. If your parent whom you trust has made you genuinely afraid of them, it's hard to come back from it, and someone as anxious and emotionally sensitive as Kazuichi will hold onto that forever, probably, even as he might internalized some of it as his own fault.

It's a lot more complicated than just "bad father, sad son" (but again, not excusable, you don't hit your kids period). It's father and son who love each other and might be the only family they both have, but they clash horribly on occasion, make up (or don't talk about it at all), things die down, stay good for a while, then there's another clash- so it goes, even if the bad times are only occasional. The biggest Thing about these kind of relationships, to me, is that it's so easy to fall into a routine and let things stagnate, and before you know it, it's just How Things Are and it's easier to just deal than start rocking the boat.

#Not an art #Talky talky #Dysfunctional relationships and toxic family is always something I have Thoughts on #cw child abuse #This is also just me blabbing with little evidence so dont come for my throat ok I'm just pondering #I could talk about the kuzuryu family too I think there's a lot more context stuff there #But that's a diff post #I also hc that Kaz started thinking about the death machines before Junko #Not in a serious manner but as a malcontent kid who felt bitter and insecure and wanted to let it out somehow #Who hasnt fantasised about pushing someone down the stairs or sth right? That's where it started for him #Blah blah the 'anyone is capable of evil' theme #But also the 'that entire class was full of kids at risk and no one noticed or helped them and that sure didnt stop them from seeking-#-release and control and company from bad people who in turn affected them'

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flintmgr · 6 months

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i have been thinking about a fnaf sb and ttcc crossover for ages. and i wanred to draw him in roxys outfit.....

#cw eyestrain #pacesetter #graham payser #my art #ttcc #toontown corporate clash #i think theyd hate each other #itd be funny to see i think #like both have the “i am the BEST” thing going on while also trying to be fast n shit #roxy has her raceway and graham is like. fast #both super insecure too #idk if either of them would be happy seeing someone somewhat similar in a way....#I FORGOT TO COLOR HIS WRISTBAND SPIKES. OOPS. oh well #anyway ya hope u enjoyed my evil ramble. goodnight it is 2 am

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dumblemonchickenwing · 1 year

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my stuff, oc, comic, angsty cw

“No, you don’t seem so gleeful to me. Fess up.” The girl shook her head and stared at the man disapprovingly. “Were people saying things again?” The man shrugged his shoulders in attempt to look confused but the girl seemed to be able to see through him.

Ego broke. “Okay, fine.. That woman has been saying.. things. Things, about you.” The girl rolled her eyes and chuckled. Her expression basically said “Not the first time someone talked trash about me” and the man noticed it. He got sad. At least his somber expression gave it away.

“Alright champ. Don’t be sad, I’m fine okay?”

“No, don’t be. I mean uh- don’t, uh, pretend to be okay for my sake.I just- I know.. people don’t think.. the best about you. But that wasn’t why I was upset.”

The girl tilted her head “Oh?”

“This situation reminded me. Reminded of the times way back. When we were kids, you know.?”

“Uh-huh”

“It’s just.. Back then I received those words from many people.. many times. And , I believed them, like an idiot. A total, absolute, utter idiot. I believed that you hated me. I believed that you were pretending. I believed when a girl said to me that you wanted to tell me you can’t stand me. And I got mad at you.. but I. Stupid. Ugh. I.. didn’t even try to hear from You. I didn’t even try to ask you. I believed what random people said about you. Those who know Nothing. Not.. You. How could I. We always fought and broke apart, but you always smiled at me. And what did I do? Trusted in words of some strangers who were bitter and just wantd to savor others’ misery. I regretted that for the rest of my life.. And I still do. And yet it happened again. As shameful as it sounds, I cried because I remembered those things and I deeply regret them. “

“Shameful? Ah, who cares what the people say anyway! If you want to stay my friend, you absolutely can!”

The girl smiled brightly and radiated confidence. Ego smiled back, but he knew that that confidence was just a mask of hers and that her smile was covering her insecurities that grew bigger after this moment.

#my stuff #oc #comic #original fanfiction #angst cw #insecurity cw #gossip cw

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canneddolts · 9 months

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i started blue shift [evil laughter in the distance]

#4th image is. me btw. with every security guard ever i lovethem #my stuff #half life #half-life #halflife #there’s so many ways to spell it!!!!>^<¥<]#hl1 #hl blue shift #and also 3rd image is abt the hd models..ik some ppl hate them but they’re fine to me…….#ALSO THE FACT CH 1 IS CALLED INSECURITY IS SO FUNNY TO #ME #cw gun #cw guns #< its very badly drawn but

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haystarlight · 1 year

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Reasons to not kiss her:

You weren’t raised to love tender.

When she’s around all you do is tremble. When she’s around you want to get on your knees. Look how much power she has over you. It’s dangerous.

She’s too good at forgiving and you’re too good at violence.

You know what they say about monsters. You know what happens to the ones who love them. Are you going to do that to her?

Your hands don’t know how to be gentle. Think about the last beautiful thing that shattered in your palms. The fresh rosebuds crumbling between your fingers like a bruise. You wolf-boy, you war machine. You wouldn’t know how to hold something magic and not destroy it.

If you hurt her it might kill you.

If you hurt her you might kill yourself.

You are very bad at rehabilitation. This is one addiction you’d fail to give up. She’s going to ruin you for all other kisses and all other lovers and you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to forget her name.

You still aren’t sure she isn’t a dream.

If you kiss her, you might wake up.

Reasons to kiss her:

Because she’s beautiful.

Because she asked.

Because she preceded “Please” with “I’m not afraid of you”.

Original post

yes & no // Natalie Wee

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red-rover-au · 1 year

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“Do we? Love each other?”

#tfw ur brother tramples over your feelings and insecurities all ur life but thinks it’s ok cuz u share DNA #read my au lol #red rover au #red rover art #rottmnt separated au #rottmnt #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt donnie #donatello #art #my art #cw self harm scars #implied self harm

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steeb-stn · 9 months

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Nooooo Jackson having a bad harvest or something etc etc and having a really lean winter

and all the adults try to keep it from the kids as much as they can and try to keep from putting them on ration portions as much as possible, even if it means adults get less

(They end up having to put the teenagers on ration portions for supper every other day and it just. Tears the parents up)

#Ellie trying to give food to joel and tommy #(Maria gets full portions bc shes breastfeeding)#Joel just gives her a steel eye and says ‘No. Eat your food’ end of discussion #Tommy makes bad jokes about how he was getting a little chubby anyways and never ever lets ellie give him any #The last of us #miller family tlou #cw food insecurity

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loadedberetta · 7 months

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vita brevis // Ghost x Reader (fem no body desc) MDNI

warnings. cw blood, gunshot wound on R, stitching, needles

life's short, have an affair with your Lieutenant for all I care.

1.7k //nsfw under the cut (it's [implied] smut)

"Couldn't you have got shot in a place that'd be easier to bandage?" Ghost rumbled as he unclasped your tac vest.

The plate carrier thudded on the ground with a muffled metallic clang, and you breathed a deep sigh for the first time in a while.

"I don't know, couldn't you have picked a better entry point?" You quipped back in a strained voice as you removed your jacket and handed it over to Ghost.

It was a strange situation, him trying to get to your gunshot wound to bandage it while simultaneously biting your head off about a stupid decision your team made while doing an infil for some intel.

How badly it went was not your fault neither Ghost's, but having no one else around you took your frustration out on each other since you found the other one grounded near the location of the hit. Both of you stranded, and unable to radio for a quick exfil in the harsh weather, you retreated into the woods, and by the mercy of the French hiking enthusiast, found a cabin a few miles deep in the dense forest.

Price chose this time in February to send Ghost, you, and the commando team to complete this hit because the "weather would mask your entry completely". Well, safe to say it didn't, and now you were sitting in a mountain cabin with a bullet likely fragmented into your upper arm.

Ghost tore the bloody sleeve off your wooly stando with a loud ripping noise, and gave the disconnected arm back to you.

"Oh…" you muttered, suddenly aware of how cold it was in the cabin. "'scold."

"Straight through… You are one lucky motherfucker." Ghost murmured with the finger of his wool glove between his teeth while taking a look at your arm, raising it and twisting it around.

"Still-- not the correct way to- ow!" You yelped as he thumbed the wound that was still oozing blood.

He hooked his arm behind his back and after the loud rip of some velcro, a small IFAK appeared in his hand.

"'sall I got." He muttered as he unzipped it with one hand, the other squeezing your injury shut while you grit your teeth.

"A marksman and a demoman are lucky to have this much on them." You quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. You pressed your lips together as he fastened the tourniquet above the wound.

You had to give it to them, the militia defending the intel was a messy bunch with great skillsets. Not counting the bullet wound, you had a few other superficial wounds and bruises strewn across your body earned in close-quarters combat, and as Ghost patched you up, you spotted him sporting a few gashes and slashes as well.

You started watching him kneeling in front of you to distract yourself from the prick of the needle and the pull of the skin while he was stitching you up with the antiseptic thread (which, for a change also stung), but it soon turned into amusement. You never explicitly noticed how heavy and broad he really was; your subconscious did you a favour already on that front. Yes, he had a commanding force in the team but it seemed to have come naturally for him. Only now did you piece together how and why he was such a pleasure to look at and a menace to work with.

His stitches were steady and he wasted no time on moving onto the exit wound.

He moved behind you, sitting on the bench you were perched on too, and set a flickering gas light on the table to get some minimal light to work in. For a moment longer than you would have liked, he fumbled. He let out an aggravated huff that made you turn your head back at him.

"What?" You growled, agitated from the annoying pain in your arm the stitches left in their wake, and the anticipation of another round of the same uncomfortable pricking.

"Need a better angle..." He huffed.

You pressed your lips into a thin line as you saw his eyes roam around, trying to find a solution.

"Put your hand- no. Gi' me." And just like that, he grabbed your injured arm and put your palm behind you on his thigh.

His thigh.

You tensed, and your breath hitched. Just when you thought the uncomfortable first few seconds had passed, he moved your hand with the short command of "twist it" after you were too preoccupied with focusing on steadying your breathing than listening to what your ears were hearing.

His palm curled around your wrist from behind, cold and hot at the same time, sending tingles up your whole arm, all the way through your spine - and to your absolute dismay, - all the way down to your cunt.

The first stitch dug in.

"Still cold?" Ghost asked, trying to sound nonchalant. You couldn't see him, he was behind you, which made you flare up. You've learned to read him through clues in his body language, but now, you were stripped even of that.

"Yeah…" you breathed back, trying to sound neutral, but failing miserably.

You weren't totally lying. Although the cabin was upkept, had a few gas lamps, and was even minimally supplied, the unforgiving weather outside combined with the empty fireplace wasn't exactly accommodating. The snowstorm had picked up since the two of you arrived here, inhibiting you further from either leaving or setting up long-range comms until the weather stilled.

An itching sensation you couldn't resist likely from Ghost pricking a surface nerve sent a jolt through your arm, which pulled you from your thoughts.

"God-- shit, sorry…" You muttered as you reset your hand on the tough fabric of his cargo pants. His devilishly sly hand wrapped around your wrist yet again, and without a word, he repositioned it, right on the bulging inseam of his cargos.

It was now his plushy inner thigh you were feeling with the entirety of your palm, which stirred another wave of guilt-ridden pleasure blooming in your abdomen.

"Stop moving about." his voice came through as a snarked whisper.

"'m not moving." You tilted your head sideways to catch a glimpse of his dark figure behind you.

"Your fingers." He reminded in a voice that was halfway between annoyed and teasing, something you've rarely heard from him before, usually when Soap worked him up during training missions through the radio.

Quickly turning your head back, you mumbled something about them getting numb, but you mostly just wanted to avoid him seeing the embarrassment spreading on your features.

"You're not helping me concentrate 'ere." He spoke in a voice laced with a sinful pitch that made your face twist into a shamefully turned-on mess he thankfully couldn't see.

"Sorry." You told him for the second time in a few short minutes. "I am getting a needle--"

"You're not sorry" Ghost retaliated and punctuated his words with a painful prick to your skin.

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Brain short-circuiting, you missed your window of opportunity, and Ghost spoke again.

"Keep this up, and you'll be in big trouble when I'm done. D'you understand?"

You tried ignoring the red flashing lights in your brain about him. You were not supposed to do this, but God, you wanted to so badly.

"Just get this shit over with, okay?" You huffed back, trying to sound angry but it came out more as a plea.

"Oh stop ya bitchin'." Ghost muttered from behind you as you felt him tug on the string looped through your skin.

Whether it was the adrenaline left over from the op, or a fresh rush you didn't know, but when you felt him pull the curved needle out of your skin you slid your hand resting on his thigh further up his cargos.

You felt him still his arm holding the needle, and a sharp inhale ripped through the cold air.

"Now who really needs to shut their fucking mouth?" You said incredibly softly while turning around just enough so the string still had slack, but you could lock eyes with Ghost. This was a very, very dangerous gamble you decided to place your bets on.

"Don't fucking play this game with me." He spoke with a volume matching yours, but a tone much more deep and sinister. "Turn 'round and let me finish first, for fuck's sake."

"Fine." You mumbled as you turned back, trying to conceal a smirk forming on your face, no traces of your previous embarrassment, and the shift of your position to rearrange the crotch seam of your pants to allow you catching a slight friction in the movement.

Your hand moved devilishly. It not only stayed where you left it high on Ghost's thigh, but you slid it further up, feeling the slight bump that must have been the hem of his boxers. You knew how much it annoyed him that you wriggled about under his fingers. But you also knew how fucking preoccupied he must have been with trying not to make it obvious that he was already concealing a semi.

"You don't wan' this" Ghost whispered impossibly close from behind your head. You did not notice or feel how he leaned in so closely, and the faint tease of his hot breath crawled below your skin to fizz and settle deep in the pit of your stomach.

You sucked in a small breath and almost got scared at the thought. Almost.

"Oh? I think I do, Lt." You turned your head back just the slightest, and let your fingers slide along what you supposed were the hem of his tight boxers.

He didn't answer for a moment, instead tugged on your skin to seal the stitch.

"'f you pop them, you're redoing them y'self."

You barely readjusted yourself, and heard him put the tools down before a hand snaked over your belly from behind and popped your belt open without a warning. Your brain gave the go-ahead while it could, and shut down for your own good from then on.

Ghost didn't tease and certainly didn't beat around the bush. Two thick fingers were pressed against your folds in an instant, restrained by the tight fabric of your tac pants. The sensation picked a ripe moan from the budding tree of pleasure flowering inside you, giving you a small teaser of what more was to come that night.

(a/n: a very old reworked fic. renod. still not betad- should I post about looking for a beta? I digress, enjoy the thoughts that come with this lol. okay bye c u horny bastards tomorrow)

#beretta does fics #I'm sweating posting this honestly #but this is how we deal with being insecure over here #post that fic gain the experience #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cw needles #cw gunshot #cod mw fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod mw ii

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