#It’s always sunny in philadelphia x reader

[star-girl-05]

Officer Reynolds

Dennis Reynolds x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

“Where did you get that?”, after all these years you would think nothing would surprise you anymore, and yet almost everyday there's something new. Today's newest thing is Dennis dressed in a cop uniform, holding a grey cat. 

“Frank got it” he did a twirl letting you take in his appearance fully, and you have to admit he looked good. “Sprang for all the bells and whistles.” he lifts up the baton hanging off his hip spinning it in his hand before pocketing it once more. 

“Why?” 

“We got a cop car and we can’t go driving it around in civilian clothes”

“Ah, I see” you had more questions, like why on earth did you guys buy a cop car but you keep your mouth shut. Knowing that the answer would only raise more questions. “If you bought a cop car shouldn’t you be riding it it and not here” 

“Maybe I just wanted to see you”, now it’s all starting to make sense. 

“Is Officer Reynolds hoping for a quickie?” Dennis smirks at the nickname immediately making his way over to you. 

“When I said Frank sprang for the bells and whistles that includes handcuffs” He suggestively twirls the silver cuffs around his finger. 

“Well hurry up and read me my rights before the others come back.” The two of you quickly head to the back office. Dennis gives agent Bower a pet on his head before setting him on a bar stool. 

“Stay here agent bower, this is a solo mission”

[n1ghtman]

could you possibly do a kinda dark Charlie Kelly x female reader smut , where Charlie is obsessed with the reader like he was with the waitress and the reader feels bad for him and finally gives him a chance I could see him being really whiney and excited!!

PICKING UP A STRAY

summary: on your way home from work, you catch charlie outside your apartment complex in the rain. you don’t have the heart to tell him to go home.

pairing: charlie kelly x reader

cws: reader has a 9-5 job, reader is implied to be broke/struggling, afab terminology, reader has a bra, i imagined reader as a lady as per request but technically reader’s gender isn’t really specified, stalking, premature cumming, charlie unintentionally overstimulating himself, charlie is very unhygienic, bad sex but it’s okay reader fixes it, “making love,” charlie is a closet pervert, reader and charlie are both pathetic in their own ways, charlie is EXTRA pathetic though, panty sniffing, panty stealing, the year is ambiguous so you’re free to picture whatever season you want, excessive plot before porn, plot holes i’m sure but reader HAS to be insane for this to work, reader is bitchless, charlie is nervous and excited, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), not really proof read

wc: about 6k

reblogs appreciated!

5:08 PM

ON A FRIDAY

the ten minute drive home from work was always a little depressing. you didn’t exactly live in a comfortable area in the city, and it only looked more gloomy in the dark, gloomy rain; the further you got from the bustling heart of the city and closer to your humble apartment, the more the reality of your life brought down your mood. the music humming in your car does it’s best to drown out the harsh patter of rain hitting your roof, but it wasn’t enough to truly distract you. you pull into your usual parking spot outside of your apartment building, aching to just get inside and rot inside your bed. at least you got to leave work a few minutes earlier than usual.

stepping out of your car, you grimace slightly as the rain waits no time in soaking you. you’re quick to slam your car door shut and lock the vehicle, before making haste to your apartment building. you wrap your arms around yourself, hoping your light jacket will spare you even just a little. you’re approaching your door when you see it — him, actually.

“charlie?” you stop, squinting. in contrast, he looks like a deer caught in headlights as he whips around; he stands straight, the bushes he stands in catching on his worn out jeans. even drenched in rain, you could recognize charlie a mile away — after all, he was your non-threatening stalker. it was a long story, really, but it’s important to recap. it’s important because, while he was non-threatening (for now), he was still stalking you. sometimes, you wouldn’t see him for weeks, and would almost forget the amount of times you’ve changed apartments.

it all started about two years ago. while you were working at an old service job, charlie was your customer. he was with two of his friends, and you were polite — that was your job. to be polite. a job that you really needed at the time, and so, you always did your best with customer service, no matter how rude or strange a customer was. maybe you were a little too good at it, because it had certainly left a lasting impression on charlie. he kept showing up by himself after that — most of the time, he wouldn’t actually order anything. he’d only linger, making various poor attempts at conversation with you; which, of course, since it was your job, you had to offer polite conversation back. people hitting on you at work is always an awkward situation, especially when the person doesn’t directly ask you out, leaving you unable to verbally reject them. maybe charlie knew you would, and so he never gave you the opportunity.

it went on like that for a couple of weeks. after that, you’d see him less and less. it didn’t stop, but it was no longer a daily occurrence. another few weeks went by before you started noticing some odd things — your hair was suddenly much nicer than usual, which was odd considering your cheap shampoo and conditioner. the outside of your car looked less and less dirty, as if you started regularly taking it to the cleaner — which you certainly did not do. you’d suddenly have extras of basic necessities laying around, ones that you swore you were running low on. maybe your memory was playing tricks on you, but you couldn’t help but feel weird about it.

you finally found out the reason behind these things one day while you were getting out of the shower. you had gone to your room to get dressed, only in a towel, when you saw a figure move down the hall in your small apartment. at first, you froze — then, you grabbed the nearest blunt force object available, and carefully tip toed towards the opening of the fall, which lead to the open concept entrance, living room and kitchen. there, you saw a disheveled figure struggling to prop open your kitchen window. you had yelled, with a shaky voice, for the person to freeze and turn around — what were you, a cop? no matter, when they had, you saw him. and that was when you discovered that charlie had been meddling with your life in secret. he argued that he was helping it, but you weren’t so sure you could get behind the idea.

after that, you moved out as quickly as you could. rent around city had gone up, unfortunately, leaving you with little options; you ended up somewhere shitty, and stayed like that until it started happening again. and the process repeated, until you eventually ended up where you lived now. why didn’t you go to the police? it was complicated — sure, charlie was bothersome and a delusional freak, but he really wasn’t violent. he was the most consistent part of your life the past two-ish years. you also didn’t technically have any proof, and people often ignore cases like this until it was too late. the police just felt like a waste of time. you really should have gone, though.

“uh—“ charlie’s squeaky voice brings you back to reality. what a strange reality you lived in. his stance was stiff and rigid, clearly uncomfortable. and likely from much more than just the rain. “you’re… home early.”

“what are you doing here?” you ask with a pinch between your brows. you already know the answer. well, you had a few guesses, anyways. he’ll spill his guys anyways. he had a bad habit of rambling when he’s caught.

“well, uh— i was just… stopping by. wanted to see if your new place was… safe.” he answers, awkwardly playing with his hands and adding on a fake, airy chuckle to the end of his words. that was another habit of his; downplaying what he was doing to a causal, chill explanation. you clearly don’t look impressed, and he falters. he looks like a kicked puppy. or, a drowned rat — he goes to speak again, but you cut him off.

“how long have you been out here, charlie?” you already feel cold, and you’ve only been in the rain a few moments. he looks like a complete mess. you knew charlie didn’t live lavishly — he didn’t have to tell you. if you couldn’t tell by his barely held together clothes, or the sickly complexion of his skin, you’d at least smell his ungodly odor. maybe him out in the rain was good. like a bath.

his eyes widen at your question. he looks aside for a moment, nervously chuckling. “ahh—“ he waves a dismissive hand; “don’t worry about it.” he says, because he thinks you’re creeped out by the prospect of him hanging around outside your windows. he hates to cut this short, because he really wanted to get to know your new place better, but he supposes it’ll just have to wait for another day. he would have just broken in like he usually did, but with all the rain and mud, he would have left too obvious of a trail. he had started to learn how to be real sneaky early on.

again, you stare at him with an unimpressed expression. he hates when you look at him like that. he misses that cute customer service smile you used to always flash at him. you were one of the only people that made him feel like an actual human being. in a poor attempt to save face, he goes to start again, and you once again cut him off.

“c’mon.” you grumble, nodding towards your apartment door. it’s rainy and cold and maybe it was messing with your judgement, because you’re inviting your stalker inside. he looks surprised, too, but he stumbles out of the bushes and follows you inside. you aren’t 100% sure why you’re inviting him in — he just looked so… pathetic. for some reason, you didn’t like seeing him look like that, and you certainly didn’t like the idea of him walking home in this weather. after all, you practically moved to the other side of the city where you first met him. you wanted to get away from him. and yet, you were letting him inside your home.

charlie clumsily reaches down to take off his beaten up sneakers after he watches you step out of your shoes. the rain outside clearly wasn’t a good enough bath, because now that you were inside with him, you could still smell… him. you try not to cringe, and he seems to not be self aware of his odor. he looks quite happy for a guy that was soaked to the bone. his gaze doesn’t stay on you for long, wandering instead to look around your apartment. it wasn’t very homey yet, as you moved recently, but anything that was yours he loved.

“do you want to take a shower?” you ask after a moment, trying to not be flat out rude, but also desperately needing the man to wash if he was going to stay until the rain passed. plus, you didn’t want him to get sick — maybe you can toss his clothes in the dryer? he perks up at your offer, and you can see the affection in his eyes. you weren’t sure what else to call it. any display of kindness you showed seemed to be just another nail to the coffin.

“really?” could this night get any better? when you tentatively nod, he grins — you lead him to the bathroom, and give him a general guide; letting him know any quirks of the shower, since it wasn’t exactly well kept before you had gotten there. you didn’t have very fancy products, but you got him a wash cloth he could use with the soap and such — there was already a few towels in there, and while you’d debate burning whichever ones he uses after, the premise of him not stinking up your apartment was enough to get by. you leave him to do his business, and you decide to get changed in your room. while you didn’t stay in the rain nearly as long as charlie did, you were still pretty wet. afterwards, you head to the kitchen — when you pass by the bathroom, you hear awful singing.

you remember that you were going to put his clothes in the dryer. right. you hesitate before knocking on the bathroom door — you hear nothing back, and sigh through your nose. of course, he didn’t lock the door, and so you were able to just open it. the shower curtain is thick, so you couldn’t see him, but a loud gasp pulls from him as if he could.

“just getting your clothes — i’m putting them in the dryer,” you say quickly, and grab the mentions items from ontop of the closed toilet lid; he lets out a little *oh, okay, * and you don’t stick around. you close the door behind you, and head over to the corner where you crammed your washing machine and dryer. since it’s only a few items, it shouldn’t take too long. you doubt his shower will be terribly long, either. still, you have time to kill; why not make supper?

you keep it simple, with a classic box mac and cheese, because fuck cooking after work. you take your time as you get plates and such together, before actually grabbing a box to cook up — it’s a few minutes later that you hear the bathroom door open.

coming down the hallway is a slightly wet, but surely cleaner charlie; he walks into the space with one of your towels messily wrapped around his waist. you can see some remaining droplets of water rolling down his abdomen, getting trapped in his poorly maintained happy trail, and —

“you’re cooking?” he sounds much jollier than he usually did. you blink, and quickly meet his gaze. there was no way you were just distracted by charlie — well, you haven’t been with anyone in… awhile, so, surely that explains it!

“y—yeah,” you clear your throat a little; “just mac and cheese. uh… your clothes will be dry soon, i think. sorry about…” you trail off, and gesture to the towel. “that.”

he glances down and chuckles. “nah, can’t complain.” his cheeks are a little flustered. “thanks for letting me shower.”

“no problem…” you almost mumble, bringing your attention back to the mac and cheese. you didn’t want to start ogling him again like a freak. were you really so lonely and starved of male attention that… *charlie * had you feel some type of way?

around when you finish up cooking, the dryer goes off. charlie snags his clothes, and heads to the bathroom to change. you can’t help but eye him as he walks down the hall. you were practically asking to be murdered, weren’t you? you take out two plates, serving food on both and placing them on your dainty kitchen table; charlie shouldn’t take too long, and so you decide to start without him.

“heyyy-yo!” charlie greets as he comes back in, now dressed in, not quite clean, but at least not soaked clothes. you swallow down the food in your mouth, perking up a little — you can’t help but look him over. you never thought charlie was particularly bad looking, only extraordinarily disheveled at all times; he didn’t clean up half bad.

“hi,” you eventually reply, and gesture to the seat in front of you. “i made mac and cheese.”

“holy shit, really?” his eyes light up and he makes his way over with haste. pulling out the chair across from you, he plops down and doesn’t really bother to tuck himself in under the table. he grabs a utensil with an overzealous carelessness, and you can’t help but wonder when the last time he ate was from how he starts to eat.

“uh… no one’s gonna take it away from you,” you try to joke, but your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and there’s a pinch between your brows. from this close, you can see his still damp hair start to drip.

charlie looks up at you through his eyelashes and away from the food. an airy, small chuckle falls from his lips. “ah, yeah…” he seems almost self conscious, but he makes little effort to change, aside from straightening up a bit. “i just haven’t had a proper cooked meal in awhile.”

you blink, because your boxed mac and cheese was most certainly not a ‘proper cooked meal.’ you knew a lot of random trivia about charlie, from his early day visits. to keep conversation going, he would unpromptedly share facts about himself. they tended to be drawn out, poorly explained facts, though. you’re beginning to realize that, in the big picture, you don’t know much about his actual life.

“well…” you start again, unsure of what to say. “i’m glad you like it.”

“like it? i love it!” he compliments, taking a generous bite. “you’re a super amazing cook, i mean —“ he swallows; “seriously.”

you try to not notice his poor table manners, because it wasn’t like you were exactly classy yourself. you look down at yourself and your shitty work clothes. with a small, hardly audible sigh, you thank him and continue to eat. dinner carries on; charlie makes various attempts at conversation, and you do your best to keep up with his random thought process. it’s hard to not stare during his tangents — he was, admittedly, passionate. it was endearing, when it really shouldn’t have been.

as the pair of you finish up eating, you can still hear the rain tap against your windows. the realization that you may just be stuck with charlie all night is starting to sink in, and you still have no idea what your plan is. you had let charlie in on a sympathetic, impulsive whim. you didn’t exactly have a spare bedroom in your dingy apartment.

“thanks for the food,” he says, and if you didn’t know anything about his mother, it would seem uncharacteristically polite. you only nod, and awkwardly stand to grab his plate and yours. you can feel his eyes on you as you place them in the sink — you’ll clean those later, you think. you glance over your shoulder, and charlie only smiles. you try your best to offer one back.

“so…” you trail off, turning to face him and leaning back against the counter. he makes no attempt to add on, and can’t help but squint a little.

“wanna watch, like, tv or something?” you suggest, and his eyes widen.

“oh, shit, you got cable?” he grins, and you open your mouth to confirm, but he’s starting again; “yeah, yeah, we should watch tv!” he stands up from your table, and clumsily tucks it back in. you lead him to your living room, and the two of you do your best to get comfortable on your not so impressive couch.

this close, you can smell your shampoo on him. you can only imagine his body smells like your soap. blinking hard, you reach for the remote and flick through channels until you find some romcom that was in decent quality. throughout the movie, charlie makes some unfunny commentary, which you hardly have the energy to even fake laugh at. when the male lead finally works up the courage to kiss the female lead, there’s a sudden silence in the room. out of the corner of your eye, you can feel him staring — again. you glance over, and this time, he’s not smiling. he looks almost dazed.

“… charlie?” you question slowly, squinting and leaning back a little. you’re suddenly very aware of just how close you two are. he isn’t meeting your gaze, though — instead, it looks like he’s looking down at your lips, his own slightly parted. your brows furrow.

“char—” you start again, a little exasperated. he cuts you off, mirroring what he saw on screen moments ago. your eyes nearly pop out of your head as he presses his lips against your own. a vague noise of protest rumbles in your mouth, and he only takes the opportunity to, as best as you can put it, eat your face.

you promptly push him back, your hands planted firmly on his chest. he looks confuses, eyes wide and his brows stitched up and together. there’s a little bit of a rosy hue on his otherwise pale cheeks.

“what the fuck was that?” you ask, but your voice is much softer than you expected it to be. you should be angry — furious, really. you can feel your heart pound against your ribs, and in the dim lighting of the living room, you can’t help but notice how handsome he looks as he tentatively apologizes.

what the fuck were you thinking?! this is the guy who had been harassing you. sure, he argued he was making your life better, always looking out for you — something no other guy has ever really done. the dating scene in the city was six feet under, really. a guy even planning a date was a one in a million chance. your friends insisted guys were just intimidated by you, but the last couple of years had been notably lonely. other than…

something in you was changing, and you wish you could blame it on alcohol. the hands flared out on his chest, move to grip his shirt, and you tug him back in for another kiss. this time, it was his turn to make a sound of surprise, but he settles into the kiss much faster than you did.

the hands holding onto the fabric of his shirt move to the back of his neck, your fingers sliding into his still damp, dark hair. you can feel his hands grip your waist, and there’s an underlying uncertainty in the touch — you can tell he isn’t so sure about what was happening, but he’s kissing you all the same. you’re kissing him. he was most certainly not your ideal hookup candidate, but dick was dick and you were really struggling to remember the last time you got that.

“uh—“ you can feel his nervous chuckle against your lips as you start to climb into his lap. pulling back, you look at him — he looks at you like you put the each and every star in the sky, and you still aren’t entirely sure why.

“is… is this okay?” charlie asks, swallowing thickly. you squint a little, because you don’t want to talk about it. this has to be in your top five worst choices made — sleeping with your stalker? seriously?

so, instead, you just nod and lean back in to kiss him again. he seems more confident this time, practically hugging you closer; he’s surprisingly warm. your lips messily mesh against his — you don’t feel any need to impress him, which was … actually pretty nice. if anything, he should be trying to impress you!

he does — as you grind down against his crotch mid-makeout, he wraps an arm under you and flips the both of you. the kiss breaks as you lay back, eyes widening. he leans over you, your legs hooked over his hips. if the lighting was better, you’d see how blown out his pupils were.

charlie presses his lips against yours again, but it’s more like a peck. his lips wander, and he kisses along your cheek in haste as he shrugs off his jacket, letting it fall down besides the couch. you cringe a little as he sucks at the edge of your jaw, a little too close to your ear lobe. you can feel yourself start to grow wet nonetheless. a hefty sigh pushes through your nose at the feeling.

none the wiser, charlie mistakes your sigh for a sound of pleasure and smiles to himself. he can’t even remember the amount of times he’s jacked off to this idea — let alone to the lingering scent you left on your pillows when you weren’t around, the panties you left in your laundry bin, your used washcloth from the shower you had that morning — his pants feel awfully tight now.

“you…” he starts again, his voice a little breathy. “you — you do want this, right?” he asks, an excited undertone to his words. the hands on your waist inch down to the edge of your shirt, and you know he wants to take it off. so, you do it for him — you sit up a little, peel your shirt off, and let it fall by his jacket.

“yeah…” you practically mumble, and you aren’t sure if he’s really listening. he seems to have no shame as he stares at your bra-covered chest. you can’t help but raise your eyebrows. “hello?”

“oh, oh— yeah, yeah. yes?” he shakes his head, gaze flickering between your face and your breasts. his tongue darts out, swiping across his bottom lip, and you bite yours.

you feel his hands reach behind you, and they unclasp your bra. he doesn’t struggle with it as much as you’d expect. well, if you consider all the locks of yours he’s picked, maybe it makes a little more sense. he drops it to the growing pile of clothes.

he leans back on his knees as he looks down. “wow—“ you almost miss it with how quietly he mumbles, and his hands come to cup your breasts.

“hey—“ you distract him, and he looks at you. your hands tug at the bottom of his shirt. “come on.”

“oh, right, right. sorry,” he chuckles, reluctantly removing his hands from your chest to tug his shirt up and over his head. he smiles down at you, and you really notice his crows feet. he presses a kiss to your lips again, and then to your chin; the kisses are quick to trail down your neck, and then the valley between your breasts.

“i’ve waited so long for this—“ he confesses against your skin, as if you don’t know. you inhale softly as his lips stop at the top of your pants. he looks up at you through his lashes; “can i…?”

you nod, and he leans back on his knees. he unbuttons the button of your pants, and unzips them. tugging them down with an underlying desperation, he stares intently at your underwear while he tosses your pants aside. you feel almost insecure at his staring, but before you can comment, he moves.

charlie lowers himself, lower and lower, until he’s face to face with your clothed cunt. his nose, probably unknowingly, presses against your clit and he takes an excessively long inhale.

“charlie.*” you cringe, your hips involuntarily arching in an attempts to get away from his bizarrely embarrassing interest. he pulls back, looking up at you.

“sorry,” he says with a loose smile, and you can tell he doesn’t really know what it was he was even apologizing for. he leans back up to sit on his knees again, his fingers coming under your underwear to tug them down your leg. he shoves them in the back pocket of his pants, and starts to get his barely held together, worn jeans off. he’s a little clumsy, as he tries not to disturb your legs hanging on his hips, but you’re considerate enough to lift them while he shoves his pants down. his boxers look… well, they look. if you weren’t so focused on the tent in them, maybe you’d be a bit more concerned with the state of his underwear.

“so…” he swallows hard, and a hand combs through his slowly drying hair; he feels a little sweat building up in his hairline, and he hasn’t even put it in yet…!! sometimes, he wishes he was even half as ‘smooth’ or… what was that other word? sw-ouve? suave? as dennis… maybe he’ll have to get in his apartment and re-watch some of his sex tapes… but, the angle of them was so…

“i’m, uh, i’m good.” you say, noticing what looks to be charlie spacing out right before having sex with you. you try to not take offence. after all, you’re quite literally positive that he has even less luck in the love department than you.

“oh—“ charlie blinks hard, “yeah? yeah, okay, good. that’s good.” it feels like his heart was gonna jump out of his throat as he tugs his boxers down, but is too lazy to take them off all the way; his cock falls out, erect and already leaking pre-cum. you can’t help but stare at the hairy mess of his crotch.

charlie is staring at yours, too, but for different reasons. he’s looking at your little hole, biting his bottom lip — he really has waited so long for this. the gang was never going to believe this. maybe, after this… you guys can… hang out a little. you know… date!* and you can tell them yourself!! the thought makes his dick twitch. he grasps his length, and angles it so that it presses against your drooling cunt. you feel a spark of arousal zap you at the feeling of his tip against you, but you don’t get to really appreciate the feeling for long before he’s pushing inside you.

a little noise of discomfort hums in your mouth, your lips pressing together firmly; it wasn’t like a terrible rip inside you, but, you usually preferred a little more… prep? charlie stops half way in, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“are you okay?” he asks, voice breathy. you wave a dismissive hand, nodding.

“yeah, yeah— you’re fine, don’t worry,” you assure, and once the initial stretch settles, you finally feel full. even if you masturbated, your fingers couldn’t truly emulate the feeling of an actual cock inside of you. your face heats up as charlie pushes himself the rest of the way inside, and you can hear him let out a little groan.

there’s a pause, assumably to let the both of your adjust for a moment, before charlie is dragging his length against your velvety walls. he doesn’t pull all the way out, leaving most of his tip in before pushing back in; he works up a rhythm, even though it’s a little uncoordinated. he’s panting softly on top of you, and you struggle to hold back soft sounds of pleasure. he catches them, and his hands move from your hips to your hands — he intertwines your fingers, and your eyes widen. he leans over you, and you can’t help but squeeze his hands. he smiles at you, and squeezes back.

this pace lasts for about 30 seconds before his hips buck forward with more passion. he groans, and you can’t help the way your cunt tightens around him; a whine settles in his throat, and he feels too caught up in the feeling of your warm walls around him to realize he should back off before he —

you suddenly feel a thick, gooey substance inside you and your eyes widen. your back arches, and you feel grossly turned on — you just wish it didn’t end… so fast? you open your mouth to say something, but charlie is just as quick to apologize.

“sorry, sorry—“ his voice is even more pitchy than usual, and his hands grip yours like his life depended on it while his hips stay nestled against yours. he seems to struggle every time your walls contract around him. you kind of wished he pulled out, but… oh well? he will in a second, anyways.

to your surprise, he takes in a shaky breath before slowly starting again. a pinch forms between your brows, and a quiet moan gets caught up in your throat. you can hear a light squelching sound from between your legs, and your face burns. you feel hot and a little sweaty, and he looks… well, much worse. you’re surprised he’s even still hard, but… you know he tends to get hard around you most of the time. still, this must have been awfully overstimulating for the guy? the thought that he just wanted to fuck you so bad that he’d continue to, orgasm after orgasm…

one of your hands wiggle out of his grip and snake down your body. your fingers find your clit, and you softly rub it; your tummy tightens and so does your cunt. charlie whimpers on top of you, and he breathes out an i love you. you’re too focused on chasing your own high to fully process his words.

his thrusts start to smooth out a little, rolling his pelvis into yours — there’s still an obvious uncertainty to them, but your fingers speed up against your clit all the same. you pant, and the two of you make eye contact. his cheeks are flared, his lips are red from biting and kissing, his pupils were blown out; in the shitty lighting of your apartment, he looks so good like this. he feels so good inside of you. you can physically feel your distaste for the man melting away each time his cockhead plunges against that spot inside you.

an actual moan escapes you, and he refocuses. he leans does to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, while trying to hit that same spot inside you again. you can hardly kiss him back, jaw slacking — your fingers move furiously against your little button, and your legs cross behind him, desperate to feel him against you. the feeling begins to overwhelm you, and your tummy flips.

it isn’t much longer before that knot inside you snaps, and you cum around him. the pleasure washes through you, and your swear your foot just twitched. the hand that was messing with your clit comes up to push in the hair at the nape of his neck, gripping the strands there; charlie’s hips buck against you at the feeling, and he moans and whimpers into the kiss. he cums for the second time tonight with a whine, and he slows to a stop inside of you.

a few moments pass before he reluctantly pulls back. you look so beautiful like this — under him, panting softly, with parted lips and a notable slump. he had thought about this moment so many nights with his dick between his hand, and none of those scenarios ever compared to this.

charlie pulls his cock out of you, and some of his cum dribbles out of you. he doesn’t really notice, although you feel it. you let go of the hand that still held yours, and you almost cringe at how sweaty it feels.

“… hi,” he practically whispers with a little chuckle — reality was really starting to hit him now, and he can’t help but feel giddy. it makes your heart flutter.

“hi…” the hand at the back of his head comes forward, brushing his hair out of his face. you feel tired and a little spent. reality was hitting you, too, but you feel more weirded out than happy. charlie takes your hand and presses a playful kiss to it, and you realize that you’ve really made a mess of things.

“do you wanna… go to bed?” he suggests, his mind wandering. he imagines himself abandoning frank and coming to live with you. maybe he was just feeling romantic and impulsive, but he thinks he’d probably abandon everything for a chance to be with you.

“i think…” you slowly pull your hand away from him, and start to sit up. “i’m gonna go take a quick shower.”

“oh,” is all he says for a moment, but then he grins. “i’ll see you in bed, then?”

“uh, sure.” you nod, and you can still hear the rain outside. he nods too, and his grin stretches so wide it hurts his cheeks. he gathers up his clothes, putting his boxers back on and starts to head down the hall to your room. you watch him, and your mind wanders, too. you aren’t sure how you can ever hope to even possibly get rid of him, now.

[hwsing]

WRITING COMMISSIONS

hello hwsingers! i do very much enjoy writing, however there is a lot going on at in my personal life at the moment. and several past moments, really, considering my inactivity for the past while. i don’t know when or if i’ll post regularly again, however i would love to offer taking writing commissions for anyone who is interested. please feel free to privately message or inbox me with any questions or concerns. ko-fi

PRICING:

MATCH UPS (~250-500 words): 2 CAD

REQUEST (~500 words): 5 CAD

REQUEST (~1000 words): 10 CAD

REQUEST (~2000+ words): 25 CAD. +10 CAD for every extra 1000 words requested past this point.

FANDOMS

HETALIA. however, i would also accept requests from the following: it’s always sunny in philadelphia, genshin impact, honkai star rail, haikyuu, inside job, peacemaker

[bethsvrse]

Wade: I’m just saying that the plan was genuinely dumb, as many of our plans are, I now realise

Y/N: What about your whole speech about, “I have the grace of a falcon, and I’ll be in and out like a demon’s whisper”?

Logan: You stood up on your chair in that burger restaurant and said that speech for everybody

Wade: It was a damn good speech, very persuasive. But I regret it now

[sailormercurysdiary]

eren jaeger is that one character I’ll always run back to because he’s just that fine

[dandelionpixels]

could you do romantic Dennis or Charlie hcs with a super affectionate s/o btw I love your account ^^

YASS i got you!!!! and tysm omg!!

charlie

- lowkey really obsessed with you. like hes never had anyone so openly love him like this. so it kind of reduces him to gibberish when you kiss him on the cheek

- hes always pointing you out to people who come into the bar bc hes so dumbstruck that you’re actually his and he wants to tell everyone

- sometimes when the gang is sitting in a booth and you scooch in next to him and interlock your hands, he just goes blank for a couple minutes until he comes back to reality

- one time he actually offered you his jacket and you kissed him on the nose in gratitude. he didn’t stop grinning until mac tried to tackle him for “looking dumb as hell”

- im sooo picturing lots of times where you’re holding his hand and he just can’t stop glancing over to look at you because hes so amazed

- at some points he gets so overwhelmed he has to take a couple laps around the bar

dennis

- initially pretend he hates it. hes always pulling his hand away or swerving away from a kiss while mumbling “pda is gross”

- but one time when you guys are sitting at the bar, you catch him off guard with a kiss on the shoulder. he spins his chair away with an annoyed noise but you can see his cheeks go bright red

- he’s bartending one night and gives you a drink and you go “thanks handsome” and he has to fumble to not drop the bottle he’s holding. you pretend like you weren’t looking to save him the embarrassment

- one of the first times he initiates is when you guys are sitting in a booth with the gang, and he nudges ur hand under the table. when you go to move it away, he interlocks your pinkies and shoots you a quick smile

- you come into the bar one night after an awful day at work and make a beeline for him. he opens his mouth to say something rude but stops short when you wrap your arms around him. he looks around to make sure no one’s watching and surrenders, putting his arms around your shoulders and mumbling his best attempts at encouragement

soo fun!!! i luv writing the boyz :))

[the-oblivious-writer]

Tara: Oh, do me a favor. Can you peel this apple for me? *she tosses the apple to Sam*

Sam: No! I'm not gonna peel an apple for you *she tosses it back to Tara*

Tara: But Y/N always does it for me...

Sam: Why does Y/N peel your apples for you??

Tara: They don't like for me to eat the apples with the skin on it. They say the skin's loaded with toxins

Sam: Okay well good news: Y/N's not here

Tara: I know they're not here and that's why I need you to do it for me please? Please?

Sam: Oh jesus- just eat it with the skin

Tara: I do not like it with the skin Sam! I am not allowwed to eat it with the skin! I am not allowwed!

Sam: Oh my god alright! If you just shut up I will peel the apple for you the way Y/N likes you to eat it. Give it to me. Give it to me! *Tara tosses her the apple*

Sam: I'll do it the way Y/N insists, okay?

Tara: Yeah :D

[n1ghtman]

it’s always sunny writing blog! read below cut for details

i. this blog is intended more so for x reader content, but you’re welcome to still request character x character

ii. both sfw and nsfw content can be requested, there will be appropriate warnings. dark content is also permitted, within reason; don’t be utterly insane, but, you know, these people do suck

iii. default gender neutral reader, please specify if you want otherwise

iv. you can request up to four characters in the same ask

v. the more specific your ask, the better! feel free to ask whatever you’d like, i’m happy to provide

vi. i will do matchups but preferably in direct messages

[teagballs]

Hihi!!! I was wondering if you could do a fluff/smut fic w Charlie and afab!reader, the reader is a virgin and is nervous for their first time but Charlie is just super sweet, funny, and caring w them <3 thank you!!!

-🐀💜

first time | charlie kelly x reader smut

authors note: this request has been in my inbox so long i am SO sorry anon omfghwuehehe. im finally in the mood to write smut cuz im off for summer (woohoo) and charlie was also the most requested for me to write smut of 😭😭 SO here we are. this is my first charlie fic i hope i did him justice. love yall as always

cw: NSFW !!!!!!!!!! smut smut smut. afab!reader, taking virginity, p in v sex, charlie is so sweet shsh, 1.9k words

nsfw below the cut

----------------------------♡----------------------------

Charlie was an amazing boyfriend. Astonishingly. Not that you went into this relationship believing he was a horrible person or something, just expecting that he would have a lesser grasp on how a relationship functions, and the key things that happen in one. But no. He remembered birthdays and brought you "unique", but well appreciated gifts. And he tried to do one thing he knew was vital for a relationship: affection. Charlie, despite not totally getting the hype himself, was intuitive of what a partner would expect in a relationship and made sure to give you affection. He would give you little awkward cuddles when watching a movie, forehead kisses when you left for work, and would make out with you if you both felt in the mood. When things got heated though, you would back away and mutter apologies about not being ready. And that was okay. He would confirm with you that that was okay and he didn't want to do it if you weren't happy, and that he wasn't upset. But even still you would understand if he was. Because you never explained why you didn't want to.

Despite general weirdness and being unadjusted to society as a whole, Charlie Kelly knew how to fuck. Put gracelessly. It was probably that rough and rugged look that attracted others, as well as you. You knew him long enough to know this about him. And this thought was haunting. Not because you were insecure about him having partners in the past, but because you hadn't. There was a major difference between you and you're boyfriend, Charlie: you were a virgin.

You were growing tired of this abstinence, but you were ruled by fear. What if Charlie was embarrassed or even turned off by your lack of experience? Even so, you couldn't stay like this. For his benefit and your own. So you ask him to talk. Charlie wasn't great with picking up on social cues, so he didn't understand why this could be a big deal. He did pick up on your uncomfortable behaviour, however. You were fidgeting with your hands and pushing your hair out of your face obsessively. You fumbled over your words.You avoided looking at him on the opposite side of the couch.

"So, um, I wanted to talk to you about taking another, uh, step? I guess? In the relationship. Not like marriage or something, um, like sex?" You blabber nervously.

Charlie felt it was important to hold eye contact while you spoke. He was unusually quiet and nodding along. It was encouraging. He wasn't overly eager but also not distressingly unemotional either. He waited for you to continue.

"I know I haven't really wanted to go, uh, 'all the way' before, and you've been really good about it, but I think I'm ready now? But I've been really hesitant about it because, well, I don't have any experience." You were starting to get more comfortable expressing your feelings. "I'm a virgin, Charlie."

Charlie studied your face for a moment. He went to speak, but you butt in first.

"I don't know if I was maybe supposed to tell you? I don't know. I was just nervous you.." You paused and bit your lip, "I thought maybe you'd lose interest?"

"No, never!" Charlie said quickly. It was the first he'd spoken since you asked him to talk, and it was a strong rebuttal. "No, I'd never lose interest in you. I like you a lot. I jus' wanted to make sure you were happy n' stuff." He said. You smiled, feeling a wave of relief hit you.

"So, what, you wanna do it now?" Charlie said bluntly. He wasn't known for being tactful or having much grace in his words. He didn't move from his place across from you. He waited for your reaction. Suddenly, you were feeling a little warm under his gaze.

"If- if you want to- I.." you fumbled.

"No. Do you want to?" Charlie enforced.

You nodded gently before given spoken consent. "Yeah. I do. Badly."

Charlie leaned over the couch. His calloused hand found your cheek. You assumed they were coarse from all the 'Charle work' he had to do at the bar, but he was so so gentle with you. Before he connected his lips, he leaned in close, his breath vibrating against your skin for a moment. He was giving you an opportunity to protest of back away, but of course, you didn't.

You had a lot of practice making out with him, but this felt more charged. You knew what would happen after this. His body followed yours. When you needed to pull away for air, he followed suit and gave you space. When you reconnected, his hands gently held your waist. You found yourself being pushed to be lying on the sofa.

"Is this okay?" he pulled away to ask. You nod and his hands tangle in your hair - not pulling or tugging, just relaxing in it - and moved your face closer.

You're fully laid back on the sofa when your lips disconnect this time. His hands move to grab your shirt. Your heart is beating faster and faster when you realise this is happening now. You're not uncomfortable. No, this is a feeling of excitement.

He delicately lifts the shirt over your head. He's treating you as carefully as you would some bone china or a kitten. You were in the comfort of your own home, so you were braless, and he's studying your tits like they were a piece of fine art, someone's magnum opus. Or whatever Charlie would consider fine art.

"Can I uh- touch?" His voice has a gravelly touch to it, unusual for your squeaky boyfriend. It makes your stomach flip.

When you nod, his hands quickly reach to paw your breasts. The rough texture of his hands against your nipples makes your breath labour a little. He takes note of it.

He continues to fondle you. You're twitching and breathing heavily. But to be honest, you're wishing he would touch your pussy. Deciding to take matters into your own hands and feeling more confident now, you grab his shirt and pull it over his head. He's taken a back by your actions but not upset at all. He let's you take his shirt off. It ruffles his hair a little

You lay back and admire his toned arms. It had always been a feature you were drawn to in him. You'd watch him carry beer boxes or a keg in the bar and feel yourself get wet at the view.

He lets you study him without saying anything and obliges when you kiss him again, just happy to see you gain some confidence in the foreplay. His beard is rough against your face as he angles his head to get deeper into your mouth.

His hands move lower, headed towards the waistband of your sweatpants. "Is this okay, baby?" He mumbled your mouth in-between kisses.

"Yes, please." Please? 'I sounded so pathetic', you thought.

Charlie shimmied your sweatpants down. Your lips stopped moving against his, and you felt your chest get heavy. Charlie stopped what he was doing quickly.

"Are you okay?" probably the 100th time he had said that tonight, but comforting no matter. "We can stop if you need -"

"No, no, no," you cut him off. "It's okay. I'm just a little nervous still."

Charlie leaned his forehead against yours. "You're okay, s'only me." He repeated.

After a minute of silence and when your heart rate returned to normal again, "You can keep going."

Charlie gently took your underwear off. You were embarrassingly wet. Apparently, caring and affirmative boyfriends really get you going.

"So pretty," Charlie mumbled to himself. You could've cum right there.

He gently rubbed his finger along your soaked slit. The contact made you jolt. He kept his eyes on your face the whole time, ensuring you were still into it. The whines you were letting out were all the confirmation.

"Are... do you need me to, like, uh, 'warm you up' or..?" Charlie mumbled awkwardly while still stroking your wet slit.

He was asking if you were wet enough for him to fuck you. You were. You had been since you started making out. And you certainly were now that you were staring at his hard dick in his pants.

You shook your head, "No, I'm ready." You say, taking a deep inhale.

Charlie carefully hooked his hands under your knees to bring you to the edge of the sofa and spread your legs. You angled your hips and watched him bring his dick out of his pants. He tugged it a few times while looking at you spread before him. He kept one hand hooked under your knee again as the other held himself.

"You ready?" He asked.

"Yeah." You reply breathlessly.

He pushes himself into you. When he's got his head in, he grabbed your other knee to open you more. He was trying to keep you at the most comfortable angle. The squelch noise that was produced was borderline pornographic. Your eyes squeezed shut when you took him in, slowly slowly. It did hurt. You felt like you were being split open.

Charlie obviously noted your discomfort and repeated, "s'okay," and "doing so good" in a soothing manner over and over until he bottomed out.

He brushed the hair that was sticking to your forehead away so he could see your beautiful face. He was waiting till you gave him confirmation to move. It felt like forever as you waited for the horrible sensation to fizzle out, but it did. Eventually all you could feel was a deep, deep need for him to properly fuck you.

"You can move," you said shakily.

Charlie cautiously moved out, then back in again. This time, it felt good, so good. You found yourself angling your hips so he could be deeper. He kept increasing the pace, letting out low huffs while you began to whine and groan.

The he hit it.

"Jesus! Fuck.. right there."

He jumped a little at your outburst, worried he had hurt you. But when he realised he had found your G spot, he quickened his pace.

You were moaning now, and Charlie had to bite his lip to hold back a smile. Of course he was happy to be fucking you, but he was also grateful that you trusted him enough to be your first.

Charlie moved your legs to his shoulders so his hands were free. One moved to fondle your chest while the other moved down to apply pressure to your clit. The combination was all too much. You gripped his forearm tightly and choked out, "gonna cum."

Charlie only sped up his administrations, and you were pushed over the edge. You spasmed and whined as you came. He let you ride it out on his cock as he gently stroked your hair.

When he was sure you were done, he pulled out to jerk himself off while watching you pant and come down from your high. He grabbed his discarded shirt and came into it.

He shuffled back down onto the sofa so he could hold you. You leaned into his chest and tried to catch your breath. He danced a finger around a strand of your hair.

"S'good... oh my god." you mumbled while looking at him. "Thank you... thank you, Charlie," you babble.

"'It's no biggie." Charlie replied. But he did understand the gravity of the sex you just had.

"Let me get you a towel," Charlie moves to stand up, but you grab his arm.

"No, no, we'll do that in a second. Just hold me." You whisper.

He does, of course. Gently kissing your head while appreciating that he gets to inhale the scent of your hair. He rubs gentle circles on your upper arm. You both could die happy in this moment.

[heartthrobin]

cowboy kisses

charlie kelly x fem!reader

wc: 1.2k

warnings: cowboy charlie (s7e1), soft touch-starved charlie, (fake) blood, mention of vomiting, no use of y/n, mac is a jealous baby, fluff, lotsa kissin'

an: i know this is a very niche part of the market but i needed to get it out my system. it's a personal head cannon of mine that Charlie is ace but that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve some kissy kissy and my need to love on him is literally making me a non-functional member of society: so enjoy! remember to reblog and comment to support your favourite writers :3

summary: Charlie makes a handsome cowboy, covered in fake blood or not.

the knock rumbling against your door is almost certainly loud enough to wake up the whole floor of your apartment building. you flinch back against your couch at the sound, flicking off the television that’s been only half entertaining you for the last hour.

“babe! babe!”

even without his calls, you know it’s him. Charlie was the only person who could arrive so unprecedented at your apartment at nearly nine o’ clock at night and not expect a right hook to the jaw as soon as you swing the door open.

you’re halfway to a whisper-yelled “Charlie, keep it down!”, tugging the door open, when you take in the state of your boyfriend.

he’s lively, bouncing on the balls of his feet: hands fidgeting around the orbit of his head. “you won’t believe what happened.”

beyond that, his umber locks are hiding under the reach of a caramel cowboy hat. his chest tucked into a denim vest with a bowler tie flat against it.

most jarring of all is how his whole cowboy get-up and the better half of his face is covered in … is that blood?

“—so then Frank got on one knee and when he proposed, Roxy literally had a heart attack and—“

your boyfriend is still standing out between the hallway and the doorframe, halfway through another outrageous tale that the neighbors are no doubt privy to.

“baby …” your chest tightens and twists in concern. you reach for his face, the blood is caked in his beard but dry to the touch. “you’re covered in blood?”

he quietens at your touch. he usually does. whole body stutters like he’s never been met with a soft hold a day his whole life.

“oh— this? don’t worry, i ate some of these tablet things so i could go on this date with this lady from the internet—“

you’re guiding him gently by the wrist into your apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“you went on a date with a lady from the internet?”

he fumbles, fingers drifting to brush against your palm. “well, not for me. obviously not, i have you—“

nudging him through the apartment to lean against your kitchen sink, which he does without resistance, you laugh lightly. “well, don’t let me hold you back, Charlie.“

his forehead tightens in confusion. you love the look of it on your sweet, sweet boyfriend. the water is cool where you run a rag under it’s stream.

“you know what they say, don’t let your current girlfriend stop you from finding your future wife.” your voice curls at the edge, teasing him, and you’re horrible because you know Charlie is no good on picking up on stuff like that.

he shakes his head, hands nervously scrunching at his sides. your own rise to his head, gently bumping the cowboy hat so that it sits further up his crown and you can start working the wet cloth over the crimson marks on his creased forehead.

“why would— you’re my future wife. aren’t you?” it’s phrased like a fact more than a proposal. a clarification.

Charlie is sometimes the most romantic person on the planet, by no fault of his own. he says things like that with such honesty and quiet conviction that it curls a warm feeling between your organs: like maybe he was the other half every person sets out to find between the throes of fighting general existence. at least yours.

you smile at him. that i’m so fucking sickeningly in love with this doofus kind of smile that seems to set him a little more at ease. his fingers are tentative when they reach for your hips.

“i was just teasing, babe. i’m sorry.”

you’re gentle where you’re dragging the cloth over his skin, working from the top of his face to clean it of blood.

“oh.” he settles. “well anyways, so Roxy has this heart attack: Frank is still on one knee, Mac tries to call 911–!”

Charlie rambles and you listen. at least as well as you can with his less than comprehensible story-telling abilities and his talent for being involved in mostly unbelievable happenings.

the rag has made it’s way to his beard, you’re still trying to work softly: hand under his jaw while the fabric works between strands of wired hair, thumb pressing a bump into the hollow of his cheek.

“so after that we hung up. and i came straight here, cause i wanted to tell you.” he sighs, body slumping with the catharsis of imparting his tale upon you. “Mac said i’m a pussy because i’m always leaving them to come here. but i missed you, and i think he’s kinda jealous cause i have a girlfriend and he doesn’t.”

your hand stills, curling under his chin so your knuckle is steering his face up to yours. “Mac can go suck a dick. and i missed you too, Char.”

he’s the one who presses up for a kiss, eyes still wide and desperate as the day you met. you indulge him happily, squishing your nose against his when your lips meet sloppily and your hands wrap around his neck: pushing him further against the edge of the sink.

Charlie hums and it’s your favourite sound. his hands are lost, but excited where they’re chasing up your back and over your face.

your boyfriend tastes bitter and metallic, like the blood capsules he threw up, but also sweet like the melting packet of caramels he keeps in his jean pocket.

you pull back, brushing your nose against his. his face chases yours: eyes still closed.

“you look so handsome in this little get-up, baby.” sighing, hand twisting into his, you say. “you make a good cowboy.”

he perks up at that, “you should hear my accent! what i said to that lady, so, when she opened the door i said—“

there’s a grumble, like he’s clearing his throat, “—tarnation, you look pretty as a peach. yes you do!”

the accent is crumbly but charming in a way that only your Charlie can make it. he nods, grinning and proud, and you throw your head back to laugh.

you pat fondly over his shoulders, “you’re sure talking a lot about this lady you took on a date while i was sitting home missing you like crazy. was she pretty?”

he guffaws, huffs like you’ve asked him about the weather. “nah. i mean … like, not pretty like you.”

there’s a moment of quiet. he waits to see if he’s said the right thing.

“hmm.” you run a gentle thumb down the side of his face. “you know i don’t like to share.”

you press your chest against his and his breath buckles. his skin is sticky with sweat when you push a kiss into his neck.

“you’re kinda making me all jealous with your story.”

Charlie shakes his head. “you-you shouldn’t be.”

releasing his neck with a pop, briefly grinning at the hickey you’ve painted there, you bump your nose lovingly against his.

“i know.” he’s red with a blush now. “wanna put on a movie and not watch it while we make out on the couch?”

he beams. “hell yeah.”

-

remember to comment and repost if you enjoyed :)

taglist:

@gremlinb1ke @mydogtypedthis @luigisbroth @newluvcassette @karlmarxpizzaparty

[lesbian-deadpool]

(During a widow family dinner)

Natasha: Y/N, what are you doing?

Y/N: I'm eating because I'm very uncomfortable.

[shewritesfics]

Sleepovers

Pairing: Charlie Kelly/Reader

Notes: Hi! these were two separate blurbs that I kind of mixed together, let me know what you think!

1:46 A.M. 

On A Friday

You come up the stairs, leaning heavily on the rail and stumbling. Fuck, man, you were gone. A live band was playing at this bar, so you decided to go and had a little too much fun. You were humming to yourself as you climbed up the stairs, your voice bouncing through the walls and falling back on your ears. Your head was pounding as if you were still next to the speakers, ears ringing and body vibrating. You finally make it to the top and turn sharply, making your way to the end of the hall. Was it the best idea to be this drunk, this late at night? No, not by yourself, but you were far too fucked to care. A small blob is perched against your door, growing larger into view as you stumble through the hallway. It’s Charlie. 

“Charlie?”  The rasp in your voice is evident. He jolts awake, his eyes wild, and his breathing quickens. 

“Y/N! Dude! Oh my god, Frank fuckin locked me out! Again!” He’s flailing his arms around to convey how betrayed he is.  This wasn’t a super regular occurrence, but it happened now and then when Frank had ‘whores’ over. When that happened you would let Charlie crash on the couch, which he always gratefully thanked you. He’s rambling on and on now about the day they had and how he ended up in this situation, but it was all muffled in your ears. Can he not tell you’re incredibly fucked up right now? Does he not care? You’re squinting at him with dry, red eyes, trying to focus on his lips so maybe you can make out a word or two. 

“Dude- you okay?” He finally notices your body language, stopping mid-rant. You look at him, noticing his lips aren’t moving anymore, and he’s looking at you with a quizzical brow. 

You lick your lips and smile slightly. “Uhm.. what?” 

His brows furrow. “Y/N, you okay?” He talks slower now, trying to sound out each word precisely. 

“Charlie…” You reach your hand out to his shoulder and push him lightly, laughing. “I’m so fucked up right now.” 

He laughs in response, but worry is still evident on his face. Charlie hasn’t known you for awfully long, but he’s never seen you like this. Sure, you came in for a drink at Paddy’s sometimes, but you always limited yourself. This was new. He noticed your eye makeup was smudged, you used to have lipstick on but now it just seemed like a stain. Your sweatshirt was falling off your shoulders, your hair was wild, and your eyes were red. You were blinking quite slowly, your body swaying back and forth. Not that he knew much about you - even though he would rifle through your trash and sometimes read your mail - he was intrigued. You seemed loose, unfiltered. 

“Yeah- so uh- can I crash here again?” He’s playing with his hands nervously. 

“No prob, Bob.” You smiled at him and unlocked your door, leaning on it heavily while it opened. He walks in and leans on the kitchen counter, watching as you sit down on the floor and struggle with your shoes. He smiles to himself as he admires you. Your tongue sticking out while you squint at the shoelaces, plucking at the knot so hopefully it untangles itself. Your jacket falls again, and you frustratingly rip it off you. He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“You need some help?” Your head snaps up and looks at him. You grunt and wave him off, focusing back in on the laces trying a new angle. One finally lets up and you kick off one shoe, cheering to yourself. You help yourself up from the floor, walking into the kitchen, and grabbing a glass, filling it with water. Charlie is still silent, just watching you stumble around. He clears his throat and you look at him, before he points down to your feet, still having one shoe on. You groan to yourself and ignore it, chugging the glass of water. He laughs and gets down on his knees. He grabs your leg and lifts it, setting it on his thigh as he quickly loosens the laces, slipping your foot out and throwing the show to the front door. He looks up at you, smiling. 

It was silent. He’s on the floor smiling up at you with his green doe eyes. His head is tilted ever so slightly. It felt intimate. His touch was so soft. Your mouth dried up instantly, and your heartbeat quickened. He’s up again, leaning against the counter and just looking at you. 

“Quit it.” Your hand flies up and covers your face from his gaze. 

“Quit what?” He laughs. 

“Quit looking at me.” You mumble out and drink the rest of your water. His hands come up defensively and a goofy smile is on his face.  

“Alright, my bad.” He chuckles and heads over to the couch. You hold up a finger to him and put the glass in the sink, then make your way to the bedroom, grabbing him a pillow and blanket for his night on the couch. He had a specific blanket he liked, which you found endearing. Charlie is a strange man, sure, but you understood him.

–Dating– 

Sometimes Charlie was quiet at night. Usually, it was after he recapped his crazy day, ate, and had a few drinks. He would just sit and watch. It was quite endearing. He loved being around you, even if it was in silence. All that mattered was that he was with you. 

You sang. Maybe it was more of a humming depending on if you knew the words to the song or not. The second you started running around for your bedtime routine, the humming would start. Changing into the pjs, brushing hair, washing face. It made him chuckle too, whenever you would stop for a few beats, then continue right where you left off. He wasn’t sure if it was a comfort thing or not, or if you were simply trying to get the song out of your head, but he loved it. Goosebumps would take over his skin when he heard your voice bouncing off the walls. Charlie’s favorite was; Stuck In the Middle With You. Something about how your octave changed when it came to the chorus or the slight riffing you would do during an instrumental part you couldn’t voice. He couldn’t get enough of how you were so effortless around him. It struck his heart, and he was enamored with you. 

Another one of his favorite things about you was your touch. It was slow at first, a huge buildup to the first time you even hugged him; He nearly cried with joy, It was gradual, like all things, but soon it was hard for you to not touch him. Your hand on his thigh, a passing touch on his waist, your hand on his shoulder. It filled him with electricity, the skin beneath your touch growing cold as soon as you left. Charlie was a fool for you, through and through. A dumb goofy smile would rest on his face when you entered a room. His brows would relax into an unfurrowed state, his eyes would soften when he saw the smile on your face. Charlie’s absolute favorite was your scratches. You called them softies - he hated that, it sounded degrading. It was your second nature, for your hands to be consumed with something. It was particularly during movies or lying in bed. Your arm would wrap around his shoulders, starting with rubbing circles into his shoulder. Then, when you got more invested, your hand would drift up to his hair. Scratching and pulling lightly, untangling the knots from the whirlwind of his day. Then your hand would drop, resting on the high of his back, this was when he would lean forward - pretending to be so engrossed in the movie - but it was really to give you more access. This was his nirvana. When you would switch from your nails to your fingertips they would dance along his skin. Goosebumps would cover his arms, and a blush would stem from his cheeks to his ears. Your touch always seemed to render him speechless. His knees would grow weak and he would melt into your touch. 

Before bed, you would crawl in beside him. Maybe you had a book, or you would catch up to the news on your phone. Either way, one hand was always on him. He would hold you, his head laying on your mid-drift as you’re propped up leaning against the pillows and headboard. His arm would be draped around you, one leg bent on top of yours. Your arm would be behind him, scratching or drawing into his back. Charlie’s sleep always varied - to you at least. He was sneaky, pretending to fall asleep so you would start reading the book under your breath. The whisper of your words paints such a beautiful picture for him. Your yawns would get more frequent, and your breathing would get deeper. Your body would sink lower into the bed, and he knew you were about to join him. The lights would click off and you would slide lower until his head was on your chest, you kept your arm around him, still rubbing small circles into his skin. He knew when you were hanging on by a thread. Your movements would stutter, and the scratching on his back would cease for seconds at a time. You’d twitch lightly and your scratching would resume, he always tried not to giggle when he noticed. 

You mumble out, your voice lower as sleep is washing over you. “What’re you laughing at…” 

Charlie chuckled. “You just do this thing sometimes- like uh- you fall asleep in the middle of scratching me… and then you must wake up again or something- I dunno. It’s just cute is all.” His voice trails off. He gets up slowly wraps one hand under you and flips you gently, turning your back to his chest and holding you close to him. 

“Do I really do that?” A low laugh rumbles from you. Charlie moves your hair from your neck and kisses it softly, smiling at your warm skin. 

“Yeah, you really do.” He hums into your neck, causing you to giggle. "I love you." 

"I love you too, Charlie."

[callsigncrash]

Various Characters and if they’d take you to see Barbie or Oppenheimer

Note: No spoilers below!

________________________________________________

Homelander

“They offered me the role of Ken but I turned it down.”

Will take you to see both, but it’ll be a private showing if it’s not a premier.

If you want to meet any of the cast or want something from one of the movies, he’ll get it for you.

Get him the “I’m Kenough” sweatshirt.

“Hi, Barbie!” him or make the “My first product was released in Japan” joke.

It hurts his eyes a bit but he’ll entertain you and sit in the front row at Oppenheimer.

He actually has a good time.

Your happy energy and the carefree vibe that goes with the hype of the movies keeps him calm even when getting annoyed and it lets him relax.

Black Noir

Did you really think he wouldn’t want to see Barbie?

He wanted to see it before you even said anything!

He can also help you get things from the movie or meet the cast.

He can get a private showing, take you to the premier, whatever plan you have is cool with him.

His “friends” are also very excited!

He may or may not have a “driving to the movie” playlist ready.

Holds your hand during the whole movie.

Naki

He’ll try and be “macho” and say Oppenheimer but he just wants to see Barbie.

He’ll dress up if you want him to.

Will do those little magazine tests to see which Barbie character he is.

Is another one who will wear a “I’m Kenough” hoodie.

Is utterly confused about the corvette bucket and ends up getting the tin bucket with Margot on it.

Leans on you during the movie and maybe holds your hand.

Hums the Ken solo for days afterwards.

Ben

He is a full on himbo Ken who is very excited to see Barbie!

He wears a pink polo and Barbie crocs to the movie.

Please wear something Barbie themed to match with him. It would mean the world to him.

Will ask you if you want to get the Barbie corvette popcorn bucket because he also wants one.

He’s smiley already but he’s even more so when you sit down to watch the movie.

Will want to talk about the movie afterwards.

Might go see it again just because.

Abed

You’d discussed this over a year ago and had a plan ready to see both movies on the same day.

Dressing up is mandatory but there might be a tiff about who gets to be which character.

He absolutely commits to whichever character he chooses.

“This Ken is a movie buff”.

Troy definitely joins y’all.

Be prepared for back and forth inside jokes and references to the movie with the both of them for weeks.

Another one who may go see both movies again.

[satansapostle6]

The Best of the Worst | Charlie Kelly

Charlie Kelly noticed the pretty blonde girl just as Dennis Reynolds tried to make her into another one of his conquests.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Part One: Charlie Makes a Friend

“What’s your name?”

“Juliette.”

“Well, Juliette, I must say, you are quite eye-catching. Do you model?”

“Uh, no,” the blonde smiled, “I don’t.”

“Have you ever thought about it?” Dennis Reynolds asked her.

“Not really…”

Juliette couldn’t figure out in what way exactly, but she found Dennis extremely off-putting. He was friendly, but only in the way that serial killers were friendly, saying all the right words and smiling and blinking at the proper intervals to be considered attractive and trustworthy to the human eye.

Juliette was grimacing beneath her polite smile, and Charlie could see it from across the restaurant. He, Dennis, and Mac had decided to eat out at Guigino’s, the fancy Italian restaurant, that Monday afternoon. And when Dennis saw the pretty blonde waitress, he decided he had to have her. Luckily, Charlie swooped in as he came back from the bathroom, or at least tried to.

“Hey, guys!” Charlie exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear as he stood beside his friend, trying to distract from him.

“Hi,” Juliette smiled, a bit confused by the situation now. “Can I get you anything…?”

“Uh, no, no,” Charlie shook his head, trying to appear sophisticated despite the fact that his T-shirt had holes in it that weren’t there when he first got it. “My compliments to the chef on his parmesan!”

“Uh… Okay,” Juliette nodded, glad to at least be off of whatever topic Dennis had decided on.

“Hey, guys!” Mac suddenly appeared between Dennis and Charlie, feeling left out. “Are we all talking?”

“No! …God damn it, Charlie…” Dennis muttered in his breath, somewhat subtly glaring at his friend as he turned to face him, “You don’t even compliment a chef on their parmesan, it’s cheese, you don’t have to make the cheese, it goes on a dish! You can compliment the dish that it goes on, but you don’t compliment the goddamn parmesan…”

“Do you guys need anything?” Juliette interjected uncomfortably, feeling as if she were waiting on an old married couple. “‘Cuz if you don’t, I kinda have my own customers to serve…”

“Yeah, actually,” Dennis smiled, turning his attention back to her as his blue eyes filled with hope, “Your phone number?”

Juliette stared blankly, batting her eyelashes as she failed to hide how flabbergasted she was. “N-No,” she murmured, in awe that he couldn’t pick up on the fact that she wasn’t interested at all.

“A-Are you sure?” Dennis stammered, offended by her rejection. “Because, if I may be frank, a man like me knows exactly what to do with cans like yours—”

They all watched as Juliette stormed off, no longer interacting with him under the false pretenses of polite customer service. She walked away shaking her head and muttering something under her breath, leaving Dennis to awkwardly stare at the floor as Charlie and Mac both turned to look at him.

“Dennis, that was pathetic,” Charlie scoffed.

“No it wasn’t,” Dennis snapped, “Shut up Charlie, you can’t even spell ‘pathetic’.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” Charlie agreed, “Which makes it even sadder that even I know she totally rejected you.”

“No, she didn’t,” Dennis sighed.

“Oh, she totally did, bro,” Mac insisted.

“Oh come on, the two of you know nothing about women!” Dennis exclaimed impatiently. “She was probably a lesbian…”

“I don’t think she was a lesbian, dude,” Charlie remarked.

“She totally was,” Dennis insisted as he sat down, the other two automatically following suit.

Throughout the rest of their lunch together, Charlie couldn’t help but think about Juliette, the girl Dennis has treated like another thing on the menu to be ordered over and tried. He felt strangely sad, seeing the awkward look on her face as she tried to fake her way through her unpleasant interaction with Dennis.

Charlie knew he definitely wasn’t as suave, or as handsome, or as clean as Dennis Reynolds, but he knew that if he’d gotten the chance to talk to Juliette first, he at least would’ve been a lot nicer to her than Dennis was. He liked to think that if he could, he would’ve asked Juliette questions about herself, like how she felt about ghouls, or what color of jelly bean was her favorite, or if she liked cats.

The thought was on Charlie’s mind up until Dennis payed their bill with his father’s card, and so he decided to head back to the door to the kitchens by the bathroom.

“Uh, excuse me?” Charlie asked nervously, seeing a busboy coming out.

“Yeah?” the younger guy asked.

“Do you know where Juliette is?” Charlie asked him.

“Uh, I think she’s out back taking a smoke break,” he offered.

“Okay. Out back. Okay, thanks,” Charlie nodded, rushing out towards the front door before Mac and Dennis could notice.

He headed toward the back alley of the Philadelphia restaurant, familiar with the place. Sure enough, he found the beautiful blonde girl leaning up against the brick wall, smoking something that could only be described as harsh even for a cigarette. Charlie approached her shyly with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, gently clearing his throat.

Juliette looked up at him with a furrowed brow.

“What do you want?” she asked quietly.

Considering how Dennis had spoken to her, Charlie found that she was extremely polite. He noticed she looked kind of like a businesswoman, in her black work pants and white button-down shirt.

“Look, I’m not like Dennis, okay, that guy’s a total dick,” Charlie said frankly, “I don’t wanna bother you or anything. I just wanted to say ‘sorry’,” he offered her an olive branch.

Juliette studied him for a moment, taking a long, contemplative puff from her cigarette before tapping the ash off.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

Charlie nodded, glad she seemed receptive.

“I, uh… I love Dennis and all, I guess, but I think he’s really mean to those nice, pretty girls he talks to,” Charlie spoke candidly, rambling on without a filter. “I don’t get it. Like, why be mean to anybody, but being mean to nice, pretty girls is just crazy. Being mean to you is crazy. You’re so pretty, and you seem nice, and all…”

He trailed off into silence as he looked down at the ground, moving in awkward directions with his hands in his pockets like a child unable to stand still.

“Thank you,” Juliette smiled, with a different tone from before.

“You’re welcome,” Charlie said finally, feeling accomplished as he realized he’d said something that she appreciated. “Can I have one?” he asked after a brief pause.

Juliette looked down and realized he was asking for a cigarette.

“Yeah. Sure,” she nodded quickly, opening the red pack for him. “What was your name?”

“Uh, Charlie!” he said quickly, taking a second to remember his own name.

“Nice to meet you, Charlie,” she said calmly, sympathizing with his nervousness.

“Nice… to meet you, too,” he remarked, unable to remember the last time someone had said that to him.

He pulled a 100 from the box and allowed her to light it for him as he put it in his mouth. She watched him cough as he just barely started to inhale, pulling the cigarette from his mouth for a moment.

“Reds aren’t your usual?” she gathered.

Charlie coughed as he looked at her with watery eyes.

“Honestly, I don’t like cigarettes,” he confessed. “I just wanted to feel, like, what you feel all the time, you know?”

-

Chapter Two

[dandelionpixels]

charlie kelly x reader

(romantic)

ask: can i request hcs for how charlie kelly would comfort his s/o :33 thank u!

- He’s so penguin-coded tbh, he’s always bringing you little rocks and figurines he finds outside. He always keeps some in his coat pockets just in case you get bummed. Slowly but surely your room is filling up with little knicknacks that he’s brought you over time.

- One night when everything is just too much and you burst into tears while sitting on the floor of Paddy’s, he just sits with you and puts his green jacket over your shoulders. He clearly doesn’t know exactly what to say but he bumps his head into yours like a friendly cat.

- His favorite thing in the world is when he can convince you to sit at the bar while they’re open. So you can work on your laptop or read a book while the gang serves drinks. It’s a good way for you to get out of the house when you’re feeling down, and he just loves getting you see everytime he looks up.

- He’s also such a physical touch guy. It took him a while to get comfortable and trust that you actually want him around, but now he’s all in. He runs up behind you and grabs your waist, twirls you around when he’s done mopping the bar, pretends he’s a prince so he can kiss your hand dramatically, absentmindedly tries to braid your hair but usually just ends up tangling it.

- When you’re upset, his go-to method is to make you laugh. He’ll pull out all the stops, trying and failing to do gymnastics, performing musical numbers for hours on end, coming out in increasingly ridiculous costumes. He won’t give up until you’re bent over laughing.

- One day when you woke up feeling awful, Charlie promised he could help and then disappeared to the kitchen for a suspiciously long time. When he returned, there was a plume of smoke following him, his hair was charred, and he was holding a plate of what you guessed was an omelette. You gently suggested you guys go out for breakfast and he readily agreed.

btw i have some more charlie stuff here and here and here and and here and here and also here!! i luv him <3

[unfixablebabyyy]

so i just read You and was obsessed w the perspective and also i just love getting a lil peak into dennis's brain so this is a something i wrote idk (also slightly inspired by that one meme of that anime girl lol)

(nsfw, minors DNI)

Dee's taste in... well, everything is absolutely abhorrent, but her taste in people is especially repugnant, which is why I can't fathom why such a striking creature would ever consider her a friend. What do you see in her? She's annoying and rude and abrasive, but you, you're none of those things. And I knew that the second I met you, but I had to be sure. So for the last week or so I've been doing a bit of research and it turns out, you really are just perfect- kind, smart, fun, absolutely stunning. Your only flaw lies in the fact that you're so incredibly naive. You leave your doors unlocked, your windows open, you always walk around the city with headphones on and your face in your phone. You're such an easy target. Don't you know how sick the world can be? But it's ok, it's not your fault- you're prey. Good thing I've got my eye on you. I'll protect you, even if it means you never go outside off leash again.

And now, as you sit across the bar from me, I can smell your perfume and I just want to drown in it, in you. You're half turned away, joking with Charlie as he throws darts, and from your side profile I can make out the tiny bumps of your nipples under your shirt. The past three nights you've come with Dee to the bar, you haven't worn a bra. You're clever, but not subtle. It's beyond cute. When you turn to me, I make sure my gaze lingers on your chest a second too long. I want you to know that I noticed.

"Hey!" I could never get tired of your voice. I need to know what it sounds like after a long night of crying.

"I.D., please."

You giggle. I've been carding you since the first night you came in, it's become a joke between us. Really, I just love reminding myself how young you are. When you hand it over, I brush my fingers against yours. I pretend to examine it and nod approvingly before handing it back. You grin, and this time, you brush your fingers against mine.

"Alright, what can I get you?"

You bite your lip, "Surprise me." Of course you want me to decide for you. I smile. I could surprise you. I could slip you something and we could have a night full of surprises. But not yet.

"You got it." And I know exactly what I'll make you- I saw the cranberry juice in your fridge and the vodka on your counter while doing my research. You were at work.

"Just don't make it too strong." Don't worry, I won't start making them strong until you're at least three in. Your eyes go wide as the song playing over the jukebox changes from some Dire Straits Mac had put on to Depeche Mode. "Personal Jesus". Kind of on the nose, but you won't notice.

"Oh my god I fucking love this song," you're so bubbly, and I know, I saw the album sitting on your record player. That's why I queued it up when Dee mentioned you'd be stopping by.

"I saw them when I was in middle school," don't forget, I'm old enough to be your daddy. I was in my twenties when you were born. You like that- I can tell by the way your cheeks get a little more pink.

"Ugh you're so lucky, I would love it if they toured again," I slide you your drink and smile.

"Well, if they do, I'll take you." Did your dad ever buy you concert tickets? I bet he did.

"Then it's a date," now you're really blushing, "or whatever." You're so sweet it's making me lightheaded. 'Or whatever'? So submissive. I imagine if I were to take a bite out of you I might get a toothache.

"It can be a date," of course it's a date. You bring your drink to your lips and sip and god I wish I could just reach over and taste you. You smile as you set it down.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think maybe you like me," Like you? Last night I was looking at custom dog bowls for the cage I'm going to put you in. I can't sleep at night without touching myself to the thought of cumming inside of you, marking you, making you mine. I don't like you, I want to cut you open and crawl inside of your ribs and hold your heart in my hands.

"You're adorable," I could rip you apart with my teeth. You cross your legs and readjust in your seat. Again, not subtle. I wonder just how wet you are. I mean Jesus Christ, all I have to do is look at you and I can practically hear that little lamb heart beating in your chest, and I can only wear this wool for so long. Sooner or later you're going to see the teeth and the claws. Maybe they'll scare you, maybe not. Either way, it won't matter when they're making you bleed, and judging by how red your face gets when I speak to you, I think you'll bleed easy. Bruise easy, too.

"Do you flirt with all of your sister's friends?" you're starting to get a little bolder. I lean in so that my face is inches from yours, like I have a secret. Your eyelashes flutter.

"No. Only you," I won't play your games, I want my intensity to bring you to your knees. The last couple of days have been fun- toying with you, making you wonder whether my charming smiles and compliments and gentle touches were platonic or not. But it's time to show you who's in charge. You bite your lip. I swear to god I can smell the pheromones on you.

It doesn't take me long to get you drunk enough to slip out the back door with me while everyone else argues over a game of pool. You really are such a lightweight. As the door swings shut behind us, I cup your little face in my hands and press my lips to yours. I don't want to. What I want to do is rip your clothes off and pull you to the ground and watch as the panic begins to rise when I slap my hand over your pretty mouth to muffle you. But that could be dangerous and I have to control myself. You kiss me back and slip your hands under my t-shirt where they roam across my chest, up my shoulders, down my back. It's giving me goosebumps and making it harder not to hurt you. I decide to test my limits. When I push you up against the rough brick exterior, I shove a little too hard and you yelp. But it only seems to make you want me more. So when I lean in to kiss you again, I bite down on your bottom lip, and you moan. Of course you're one of those girls. You love the abuse.

My hand finds your neck and you gasp even though I don't tighten my grip- I just want you to know I could- I want to. Someday I will- I'll choke you so hard and for so long you'll pass out, and then I'll smack your face until you wake up, just to do it again. I'll make you beg for the privilege of breathing. But not tonight. If I ever want to get to that point, I have to stay focused. Besides, just the feeling of my fingertips on your throat is turning you on- I can feel a wet patch forming on my knee where I shoved my leg between yours.

The heat of your body is making your perfume stronger and I feel like I'm going insane, like I'm on the verge of doing something depraved. You push your hand into the waistband of my jeans, then my boxers, and I can't help but growl when your fingers wrap around my cock. As you start pumping your hand up and down, I lose myself for a moment and dig my fingers into your neck. You whine, and when I release, I notice the dark red crescents my nails left on your soft skin.

It's best if I make my hands busy, so I work on the button of your pants as you continue to play with me. I groan into your neck as you squeeze me hard. Pretty soon I'm going to have to pin your wrists to the wall. When you do it again I bite your neck hard enough to serve as a warning and you quickly soften your grip as your jeans inch down just enough. Good girl.

You shiver as the night air breathes down the alley. I can feel your pulse in your cunt as I touch you over your panties. You're so pathetic, you easy little whore. I haven't even bought you dinner and you're already about to let me fuck you stupid next to a dumpster behind my bar. But I won't. I'm gonna make you beg for it. I want you to be so achy and needy for my cock you'll let me do anything to you. I can't fuck you tonight, you haven't earned it.

I sigh and retract my hand. "You're drunk," I press my lips into the crook of your neck and practically feel you deflate against the wall. "Why don't I take you home?"

"Oh," your voice is so sweet and soft, "ok."

I pull away and brush a loose strand of hair from your face before planting a kiss on your lips. Relax, angel. I'm not done with you. You pull your hand out of my pants and the absence almost hurts.

"My car's just down the street, I'll tell Dee you got sick," I brush my thumb across your cheek and peck your forehead before snaking my arm around your waist and leading you down the alleyway. At the end, before we step onto the sidewalk, you stop.

"Did I do something?" Your eyes are so big.

"Consent is really important," I lie, "I just want you to feel safe with me," it'll be all the more enjoyable for me when you realize you're not. My answer seems to satisfy you.

When we get to my Range Rover, you raise an eyebrow, "Nice car."

"Thanks, Frank bought it for me when I got into Penn," it doesn't matter if it's true, now you think I know how to take care of something for a long time. I've established my ability to commit.

"Jesus, isn't that Ivy League?" And just like that, you see that I belong to an elite community of scholars.

"Yeah."

In the Range, you begin looking through my CD collection, pulling out albums you recognize, asking about ones you don't. You like old music, old cars, old men. You mention that your dad introduced you to Christopher Cross, so of course I slip it into the radio and skip to Sailing and tell you it's my favorite, which is true, but I happen to know it's yours, too.

I pretend to be lost and ask you where to go even though I've made the drive at least 20 times in the last week. When we get to your place, I park the car right outside of the familiar front doors and look up at your dark window.

"Are you sure you don't want to come in?" you spread your legs ever so slightly. So obvious.

"How about I cook you dinner tomorrow night," you'll act like a whore when I say, first I've got to teach you some manners.

"When?" you don't want to leave.

"I'll call you." Get out.

You step out onto the curb and wave.

"Goodnight," I say and you turn and head in. I don't leave until I know you're inside, safe. In fact, I don't really leave at all. I park the Range a block away and walk back. Your light is still off, but even in the darkness, I can see you up there. You really should close your curtains, especially when you're inside, naked and panting, humping your pillow like a bitch in heat.