#because some of the dose leaked out

[plaidpyjamas]

.

[strangerstilinski]

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: eddie in blue jeans. eddie leaking in blue jeans. eddie cumming in blue jeans. that's it, that's the fic. [ 2.9k ]

𝗰𝘄: reader with a vagina & breasts, 1 occurrence where reader refers to themselves as a girl, overuse of italics probably, other than that we just have heaping doses of heavy petting, grinding, and kissing. oh! and a certain someone cumming in his pants ofc

𝗮/𝗻: imo the second half of this is where i reaaally shined, ok? there's just... something so *clenches fist* about eddie who's so turned on by you that he's stupid with it. anyway, thank you for reading! xx and remember to reblog to make eddie cum <3

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖𝟏𝟖+ 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

The curls at the nape of Eddie's neck are damp where they tangle around your fingers. His breath rolls out in hot waves against your tongue, full, split-slick lips moving eagerly against your own. Eddie is kissing you like he thinks he might die without the taste of you, fervent and hungry and seemingly determined to stake some sort of claim on your mouth. 

You've only been at it for five minutes but, seriously, how in the hell did normal people ever make it through an entire evening without devouring their date? Either they are far stronger than you, or it's the power of something you'd simply dubbed The Eddie Munson Effect.

Regardless, you're feeling beyond desperate. 

Because you'd had to watch every single stumbling step Eddie made throughout the evening as he quite literally tripped over his own feet in a rush to open doors for you. He'd done so with all of his usual awkward charm, arm extended with gentlemanly grandeur — and on one occasion, he'd even bent at the waist into an adorably courteous little bow as he'd waited for you to step through. Each time, his hand found the small of your waist, and while he would linger a second longer than was strictly necessary, his touch always remained polite and comforting, never bleeding into the possessive brand that you'd noticed beneath the hands of men in the past.

Then again, every brush of Eddie's fingers over the course of the evening had sent sparks down your spine. 

There'd been one moment, when the wind had caught the hem of your skirt and sent it billowing up — you'd felt the cool air rush all the way up to the sliver of tummy above your underwear — but Eddie's hands had been quick to find your waist, smoothing the fabric back down over your thighs and holding it there for a beat. Thick fingers and clunky silver rings had hesitated on your hips until the breeze died down, and then Eddie's face had gone red in a way that had little to do with the chill in the air, and entirely more to do with the sudden realization of how close you were, how intimate the brush of his pinky was against the warm skin at the back of your thigh. 

And you absolutely had to take into account the condition in which he'd showed up on your doorstep. With a crisp white tshirt tucked neatly into the waistband of light-wash jeans. His hair shining lightly with gel, curls coiled in slightly neater than usual ringlets. With his jaw shaved smooth, and his skin smelling sharply of a rich, woodsy aftershave or cologne that gave you butterflies every time you breathed in.

Then there was the way each and every hearty chuckle that he'd let out over the course of the evening had curled in your ears and proceeded to pool pleasantly in your gut. The way every dramatic story retelling had left you fully enraptured right from the start. The way  every dimpled grin had practically sucked the air straight from your lungs. And your ever-deepening feelings for him had only solidified with each of his stuttered attempts to accept your compliments.

All evening long, you'd been eager to fast-forward, to get right here. Home, on your couch, thighs splayed wide over the cradle of Eddie's lap, skin flushed with heat, with your skirt rucked up and your sweater steadily slipping down your shoulder. 

And now that you're here, Eddie's hands have undertaken the impossible task of clutching at every part of you at once. Ringed fingers rake down your back only to grab ahold of your ass to drag you more heavily into his lap. Your teeth catch on his lower lip when he forces your hips to roll in a staggered rhythm, shaky thrusts driving his own hips up and slotting the bulge in his jeans just where you needed it to relieve some of the pressure between your thighs. 

You both gasp into the kiss at the friction that the poorly-synchronized movements are making. The rough chafe of his zipper and denim against the cotton of your panties is only just shy of being too much. It's delicious. 

"Y-your roommate-" Eddie pulls away to stutter against your cheek. 

"Out." You supply in a rush before your mouths are crashing together again like magnets. 

Eddie makes a small noise in the back of his throat, a satisfied sort of drawn-out groan that has your head spinning. You can still taste the lingering traces of the cigarette he'd smoked during the short walk back to his van, and the breath mint that he'd popped into his mouth immediately after. The mingling flavors are enough to give you a headrush. As if the combination of mint and nicotine were absorbing straight into your bloodstream merely from licking it from his mouth. But, maybe that has more to do with the way Eddie is kissing you-

Eddie seems to approach kissing with the same over-abundance of heart and enthusiasm that he does with literally everything else. Plush lips work against your own, smoothly encouraging your mouth open for him every time you dare to draw back for a quick breath. It's a perfect give and take, an intoxicating push and pull that you had zero qualms about getting lost in. 

This has always been your favorite part of foreplay. The slow-building desperation. The shared breaths. The wandering hands. The heated teasing that you felt pulsing in your clit and all the way down to your toes. It's something you normally relish in drawing out as long as possible, until your panties are soaked through and your lips are sore, but, fuck-

You can feel how hard Eddie is growing beneath you. The warmth of his cock burns all the way through his jeans until you swear you can feel it against your cunt and inner thighs— Until you swear you can nearly distinguish the sheer heat of the blood swelling his erection from the less-oppressive warmth emanating from his legs. And when his mouth trails down the line of your jaw to kiss and nip at your throat, you can't help but attempt to sneak a peek at the arousal you've drawn out of him.

The sight doesn't disappoint. 

His bulge stretches all the way from the bottom of the zip on his jeans and across the crease of his thigh. The obvious curve of his shaft straining against its tight confines stretches across his left thigh and then tapers out at the head of his cock—Jesus, he’s huge—and if you squint, you think you might even be able to make out a small spot, no more than the size of pea, where the light wash denim looks just a bit, well, wet. And, holy shit. 

It's drool-worthy. It's so hot. Your mouth might genuinely be watering just looking at it-

Oh, god. You really needed to kiss him just a little longer. You were certainly not about to be the girl who drops to their knees to suck a guy's dick within ten measly minutes of getting through the front door on a first goddamn date. That would be ridiculous. 

You'd make it at least twenty, surely — Maybe fifteen. 

In the meantime, more kissing. And that would be all too easy with the way Eddie's hands slip lower along the curve of your ass as he finds your mouth again. His fingers burying deeper into your flesh, rings biting with a sharp pinch that makes you keen and release an encouraging moan. 

There's a fire building behind your clit with every drag of your hips. You feel deranged beneath the haze of your lust, but Eddie only seems to be matching your need every step of the way. 

You've never seen him quite so out of control. So desperate, and God it's a beautiful sight. 

Eddie's spine arches forward from the back of the couch to push his chest to your own. Your hips stutter, driving down against the bulge in his jeans. The hard line of his cock wedges neatly at your center, fighting against the oppressive barrier of your underwear and his jeans. Dull as it is, it gives the barest hint as to what it would be like to have him actually pressing into your aching cunt, stretching you out. 

Just the thought makes your hips buck, little rolls of your hips re-doubling in effort. The pressure against your entrance has you whining pitifully as Eddie's tongue strokes over yours. One of those gorgeous, wide palms of his moves up to your jaw to hold your face steady as he attempts to swallow up your sounds. 

"Eddie." You pant brokenly, a plea. Because you're trying, really, but fuck. If you didn't get him inside of you — in one way or another — in the next few minutes, you very well might lose your mind.

Your fingers wind tighter into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp in that soft way that makes Eddie's cock jump in his pants. 

The noises you're making.. 

They're better than any song Eddie has ever heard in his entire life, high and needy and so fucking hot. Every little sound has Eddie's thighs flexing beneath you in an attempt to keep his erection pressed snug to your cunt, to push the intoxicating ebb and flow that the two of you have going over into something more. Into a constant, blissful friction. 

Another minute of the heavy grind of your pussy over his lap has Eddie's cock twitching again, his balls tightening up and his brain growing too foggy to hold back the needy whimpers that rise in his own throat. 

“Shit-” Eddie gasps, his voice gone raspy with need. 

You murmur something in response that gets muffled by Eddie's lips and tongue. Something about wanting his cock on your tongue but also possibly inside your pussy — The details are unclear. Eddie has no idea which exactly you're angling toward, but he's ready to bust already and you're both still fully-clothed, so. He's just praying to Ozzy that he'll even make it that far. 

He probably needs to take a breather, and really he's going to, but then your hips stutter and you let out the sweetest little moan and Eddie kind of goes dumb with it.

He's too far gone to hear the telltale rattle of keys against your front door, or the click of the lock that has your own head snapping up toward the doorway in surprise. You stiffen above him, your ass driving down against his cock as your movements come to a halt and your weight drops heavily into his lap. 

And shit, he'd already been fucking throbbing in his jeans. The new pressure on his erection is just too much. 

A small noise of shock and pleasure tears from Eddie's throat, a pathetic sounding thing that makes your cunt clench around absolutely nothing and a rush of arousal soak the cotton of your panties. His lips part beneath your own unmoving ones, his jaw gone slack around the broken moan that falls into the heat of your mouth. 

Eddie's hips buck up sharply, fingers biting meanly into your hips as warmth floods his briefs, cock twitching and eyes rolling back as he shakes through the quick waves of his orgasm. His brain is pure static, ears ringing with such strength that your nervous laugh and stammered greeting sound far off despite you being pressed so close to him. Everything sounded just a bit like he was underwater. 

His head clears a little as you brace your hands on his shoulders and push yourself up, his eyes popping open as the distance between you grows and the warmth of your body disappears altogether. You're smiling awkwardly, laughing despite yourself, with your gaze locked somewhere over his shoulder as you attempt to smooth out the wrinkles in your skirt — and then Eddie finally processes the sound of Robin's voice in the entryway behind him. 

Oh. Oh, fuck. 

Eddie's heart had already been beating heavily, but suddenly he swears he can feel each and every rhythmic pump of the blood in his veins. The strength of it makes his pulse thump so violently in the hollow of his throat that his eye might've been twitching in time with each beat. 

His gaze drops to his lap, where, to his horror, light blue denim is already a few shades darker. His cum is already soaking through his underwear and very, very quickly spreading into a wider, far more noticeable wet patch, and Jesus fucking Christ, this cannot be happening to him-

He tugs at his pant-leg desperately in an attempt to draw the fabric away from where the cum had pooled in the crease of his pelvis and then dripped steadily down the length of his thigh, but it's too late. 

He'd come.. so hard. And so much. His pants are stretched too fucking tight because he's sitting and you'd just rung out every last fucking drop of cum from his balls with your pretty pussy rubbing over his lap again and again and-

Robin's muffled curse breaks through his inner-turmoil, followed by the loud thud of something heavy landing on the kitchen counter behind him. Eddie turns sideways in his seat to find Robin with flushed cheeks and sweat beading on her brow, her arms draped limply around a large television set. She's panting exaggeratedly, mouth running a mile a minute as she regales the story of the older couple on the first floor who had upgraded to a 35-inch and offered up their old console for, quote: “Twenty bucks! A goddamn steal, you guys-!”

The two of you are babbling excitedly back and forth, the front door to your apartment still hanging slightly ajar all the while. Eddie realizes, belatedly, that Robin must've carried the behemoth of a thing all the way upstairs by herself — How the hell had she even managed that? 

“Eddie, would you mind giving her a hand with that while I clear a spot for it over here?” You delegate gleefully as you flutter back into the living room to do just that.

You rush to the console table against the far wall and quickly begin shuffling things around to make space for your new possession, stacking books and knickknacks and sliding the clunky record player as close to the edge as you can manage. 

“Oh, uh..” 

Eddie smacks his lips once, eyes dropping from you to the gargantuan fucking wet patch stretched across his thigh. While he's reluctant to dig his own grave, he fears he has no other choice. 

“-Well.. To that 'm gonna have'ta say..” 

He swallows and gives a nod to himself in resolve, a burst of air pushing past his nose as he snatches his jacket from the floor beside the couch and uses it to shield the focal point of his embarrassment, avoiding looking back toward Robin completely. 

“Shit, uh.. Nope. No, sorry." 

Your movements falter at his response, an amused little smile tugging at the corners of your eyes as you regard him, “No?” 

You laugh, like you're waiting for Eddie to clue you in on the joke.   

Of fucking course Eddie had opted to wear a pair of light wash Levis for your date tonight instead of black. Because now? There is no way in hell you and Robin won't see the evidence of his predicament the moment it's no longer hidden behind his leather jacket. 

If you see the way he'd shot off in his pants like a horny teenager from nothing but a little bit of kissing, Eddie is certain he'll never get a second date — Not to mention the constant ribbing he'd be destined to get for the rest of his Goddamned life from everyone else.

There's no way that Buckley won’t tell Harrington — with the weird and questionably platonic friendship the two of them had fallen into at some point around the time they'd graduated high school. And Harrington will, of course, inevitably spill the beans to Dustin. And then Dustin's loud mouth would manage to somehow tell absolutely everybody else in Eddie's life. 

He is so fucked. 

“Yeah, sorry, I gotta bounce, actually-” Eddie fights back a cringe, bounce-? What the fuck is he even saying? “I, uh, I forgot I have a.. A thing.” 

He can't quite hold back a wince then, at the sound of his own excuse in his ears. He's usually a lot better on his toes than this, but he's fucking floundering all of a sudden. 

It's because of you — it has to be because of you. You and your pretty eyes that are slowly narrowing in confusion and maybe a little bit of hurt. You and your angelic little voice, pushing out with a soft, “Oh.” 

But then you're nodding, a weak smile pasting on your lips to cover that flash of sadness he'd seen. You tell Robin you'll be back to help her in a moment and walk Eddie to the door, arms brushing as your gaze remains focussed on the scuffed floorboards. 

You're being sweet, because of course you are. You thank him for a wonderful date, tell him you'll call him, even lean in to press a delicate little kiss to his cheek that Eddie definitely doesn't feel like he deserves. 

When the door closes behind him, it sends a rush of air hurtling toward Eddie smelling distinctly of you. Like your perfume, and the spice of the candle sitting on your kitchen counter, and the sweetness of your shampoo. The scent makes Eddie's head swim with regret and his cock twitch weakly in his pants. 

Yeah, he's definitely fucked. 

[tpwk-formula1]

Hello, there! I love your writings and the order is bit long sorry for that!

Pizza crust: thin crust, pizza sauce: red sauce, with topping of sausage, olives, basil, garlic, bacon, arugula, roasted mushroom, buratta with drinks: beer, Dr pepper, lemonade, red bull, coke zero, and dessert: yes For MAX verstappen

If you can, could you please let The reader be leclerc or sainz, if you can't you can do whatever you want! THANKS WAITING FOR MY ORDER🤭😉

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thin crust brother's best friend red sauce rough sex sausage "Better not waste a drop" olives "Swallow every last bit. NOW!" basil "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" garlic "I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy with my cum" bacon "What would your brother think if he caught us" arugula "I love stretching this pussy out" roasted mushrooms “Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy” burrata "How many was that? three... I think you can give me another" beer edging dr pepper dirty talk lemonade body worship redbull hickeys coke zero high sex dessert yes served by Max Verstappen

Max x Norris! reader

AN: I in fact took an edible while writing this so if some of it sounds goofy my apologizes <3

TW - oral (m receiving), fingering, mentions of weed, multiple orgasms, slightly edging, squirting, spitting, unprotected sex, creampie

WC 2700+

Y/N POV

"Maxie, you don't need to smoke with me just because Lando was teasing you for having a stoner girlfriend when you've never even touched weed," I tell him softly as I'm sitting on his lap and running my fingers through his hair.

"I know I don't have to but I wanna see what you like about it so much," Max replies softly letting his fingers softly trace along my hips.

"How about we take edibles?" I suggest softly making Max think about it for a second.

"Okay, but can we smoke together another time?" Max asks softly making me smile.

"Sure, but let's see how you like this first," I tell him softly while leaning over to my night stand and opening the drawer to pull out the little tin full of my assortment of gummies.

"Do you want strawberry or cherry?" I ask softly looking through my collection to see which flavors I had.

"I want this one," Max says softly pointing to the lime one.

"No, that's indica and will just make you sleepier than sativa already will make you," I tell him softly while plucking up the strawberry gummy and biting it in half and handing Max the other half while I eat the first half.

Max hesitates before he takes it and eats it as well. Before I put away the tin I grabbed another one and eat it.

"Why did you get more?" Max whined making me look at him with a raised brow.

"Tolerance babe," I reply softly while cuddling into Max's chest and wait for the effects to take course.

"I think I need more, I'm not feeling anything," max says after 20 minutes making me laugh softly.

"Love I think I might have given you too much already. Have some patience. If an hour and a half has passed and you still feel absolutely nothing I'll give you a little more," I tell Max softly knowing I gave him half of a 30mg gummy.

"If you gave me too much and you ate more did you take too much?" Max ask softly making me laugh and shake my head.

"No love, I gave you 15mg of THC and I took the other half of yours and took another 15mg gummy so I doubled your dose," I reply softly trying to explain everything I can to him.

"Is it really gonna take 90 minutes for me to feel it?" Max asks.

"Probably not but sometimes it takes a little longer. My guess is an hour you'll start feeling it and by the hour and a half mark you'll feel the full effects," I tell him softly before placing a kiss on his lips.

"How will I know?" Max asks making me laugh a little.

"You'll know I promise," I respond back.

As the time passes I can feel Max starting to get fidgety, and when I look up from resting my head on his chest I find his face starting to become flush.

"You feel it love?" I question with a faint smile on my face.

"Stront, yes! I feel like heavy but light. Something's got to be wrong! We gotta call someone, let them know I'm dying! If I die please make sure they replace me with someone good," Max says clearly showing that he's starting to get paranoid.

"Love, you're fine! Enjoy your high. You're not gonna die I promise," I respond while leaning up and placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"I already told Lando! I knew you wouldn't take this serious," Max says clearly still freaking out which makes me laugh.

"Love, you're overthinking which is gonna ruin your high. Relax and enjoy the feeling," I say while turning around in his lap and resting betsween his thighs so I can turn on the TV and play the first Kevin Hart movie I find.

"Watch the movie and laugh," I tell Max sternly while also grabbing his phone out of his hands and put it under my leg so I know he isn't sneaking it.

I send Lando a quick text letting him know his friend was in fact fine and just being dramatic.

Lando just laughs back at the situation and tells me he's here if Max needed anything.

"See you have Lando worried!" Max says clearly reading my texts over my shoulder.

"No! He said if you need anything like snacks or something not a fucking ambulance," I tell Max making him groan.

Another twenty minutes pass when I feel Max buck against my back making me feel his hard cock. I hold back the smirk I want to spread across my face and just ignore Max until he says something.

"Are you sure it was weed," Max calls out a few minutes later making me laugh.

"Yes, I'm sure I gave you weed love. You took an edible, it's a body high. This is normal," I tell Max softly while rubbing him through his pants.

"Fuck, is that why you're always all over me when you take edibles?" Max questions looking at me through hooded eyes.

"Yes, and when we have sex it's so good! Everything is so much more intense for me" I tell him with a bright smile making him groan at the thought.

"Fuck, please I need something. Oh my god are you feeling anthing?" Max says making me laugh and nod my head.

"Yes, love I'm fucking throbbing but didn't do anything until you said something cause it's different for everyone," I reply softly making Max reach his hands around my waist and push his hand into my sleep shorts instantly finding my soaked folds.

"Oh," I moan when I feel his fingers graze my clit which makes him start lazily circling it with his fingers.

"Watch the movie," Max whispers in my ear making me turn my attention back on the movie while Max continues to tease me.

"Fuck Max," I moan when I feel him speed up his actions.

"You gonna cum for me," I could hear the smirk in Max's voice as he continues to rub my clit.

"Please," I cry out when I feel him slip 2 fingers into my pussy finding my G-spot almost instantly.

"Go on, cum for me," Max says making me fall apart on his fingers.

"Fuck," I cry when I feel the pleasure start coursing through me, lasting much longer than it normally would had I been sober.

"So good Maxie," I gasp when I finally start to come down from my high.

"Fuck, you always look so pretty when you cum," Max groans into my neck before he places a soft kiss on my sweet spot.

"Maxie, go faster! Please," I whine and beg Max to sped up his actions knowing I can feel anothe orgasm start to build deep within me.

"Fuck, I love to hear you beg! Always sound so pretty for me," Max tells me softly while he speeds up his actions. I could feel the orgasm building almost instantly which had me throwing my head back onto Max's chest while I allow the pleasure to consume every part of me.

"Want you in my mouth next," I moan softly as I start to fall over the edge into a squirting orgasm soaking Max's hand, my panties and shorts as well as a little bit of out sheets.

"FUck," I cry when Max only speeds up his actions throwing me into an almost instant 3rd orgasm.

"Max," I'm screaming out as the pleasure starts to mount.

"How many was that? three... I think you can give me another, and then I'll let you do what you want," Max tells me while he continues to finger fuck me through my third orgasm.

"It's too much," I cry out but make no attempt at moving away from the brutal pleasure.

"Want me to stop?" Max asks with a smirk clearly written all over his face.

"No! You better not stop!" I scream out.

"Then quit your complaining about it being too much," Max replies back while he speeds his actions up again. I could feel my next orgasm starting to build again which had me slipping my hand into my panties to join Max.

Once my finger grazed my clit I scream as I fall over the edge again while I tease my clit and Max continues to fuck into my G-spot. I could feel my pleasure soaking everything once again making me gasp at the pleasure.

"Fuck, so good Maxie," I call out as I come down from the orgasm. Max and I have both pulled our hands out of my pants when I offer my fingers for him to lick clean.

"Better not waste a drop," I tease while he pulls my fingers into his mouth and licks them clean before he pulls his fingers into his mouth and licks them clean too.

"You're hot," I saw while watching my boyfriend remove his fingers from his mouth revealing his lips covered in a light layer of my slick.

I lean up and pull Max in for a kiss while I turn around so I'm not facing Max and away from the TV. I start grinding into Max's lap enjoying the way his cock slides against my drenched shorts.

I reach down and pull Max's shirt off while I reposition myself to pull Max's briefs off allowing for his cock to spring free. I watch as it bounces softly against his skin allowing for some of his precum to pool near his belly button. I take his length into my hand and lick from the base of his cock to his tip where I collect a bit of his precum before I start pulling his length into my mouth.

I can hear Max gasping and hissing above me the more I take him into my mouth. Once I've taken his full length into my mouth I gag slightly before I pull back and start bobbing my head on his cock.

"Fuck, feels so good," Max groans out making me speed up my actions using his groans and words as encouragement. As I'm sucking on his heavy cock I bring one of my hands up to his balls and start playing with them while letting my free hand rest on his thigh.

I pull my mouth off his cock and lean down to suck his balls into my mouth making Max hiss and buck his hips at the new sensations coursing through his body.

"What would your brother think if he caught us. You on your knees with your perfect little mouth taking my cock like it was made for it," Max says while gripping into my hair and pulling me in for a kiss before he pulls back before pulling my hair hard making me gasp leaving Max to lean down and spit directly into my mouth making me whine feeling his spit slide down my tongue.

"Swallow every last bit. NOW!" Max whispers against my jaw making me close my mouth and swallow his spit. Max gives me a satisfied smirk before pulling me in for another kiss.

Max flips us over so he's now on top of me while he grinds into my soaked shorts before he finally lifts my shirt off and pulling my shorts off next.

Once I'm completely bare for Max he slowly pushes into my pussy making me gasp at the stretch of taking his full length.

"I love stretching this pussy out," Max lazily grunts while looking into my eyes. I can see the effects the weed is taking on Max, but my favorite is the lazy look he has written all over his face but still so turned on his dominant energy is still present.

"Fuck! Maxie, so big," I gasp feeling Max bottom out in my pussy stretching me just right.

"Fuck," Max grunts when he starts thrusting his hips into mine, hitting all the right spots the faster he is going.

"Max," I moan when I feel the tip of his cock graze my G-spot.

Max starts fucking into me faster making the pleasure become increasingly more overwhleming while he leans down and starts kissing my neck before I feel him sink his teeth into my heated skin and start sucking, leaving a mark behind before he starts adding another one on the other side of my neck.

"Love putting marks on your perfect skin," Max grunts when he sees the little marks he's left behind.

"Fuck, I'm close," I moan making Max pull out of my pussy successfully edging me.

"No," I whine when I feel Max bring his mouth back to my neck leaving another hickey while he teases my clit with the tip of his cock before he finally pushes back into my pussy fucking me harder than he had previously making me scream out at the overwhelming pleasure.

"Don't cum yet," Max says before leaning down and kissing me before pulling his cock out when he feels me getting close to the edge again.

"Please Maxie," I beg not knowing how much more edging I could handle.

"You've cum three times already and you're begging for more?" Max teases making me whine.

"Please, so good Maxie," I beg again making Max finally push back into my pussy and start fucking me again.

"Fuck," I moan loudly clenching around Max making him hiss at the feeling.

“Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy,” Max grunts out making me snap my eyes open and look down to notice the little bulge in my tummy each time Max fucks into me.

"Fuck," I moan out as I pussy down on the bulge making Max and I both loudly moan at the added pleasure.

"Can I cum," I moan out making Max grunt out a quick hold it making me whine at being on the edge but not being allowed to fall over the edge.

"Fuck, feel so good around me," Max grunts out.

"Max I can't hold it anymore," I whine out making Max speed up his actions before he finally gives me the permission I was waiting for.

"Fuck Max," I cry out as I start cumming all over his cock, pulling him with me cumming with me.

"Fuck, Max, did you cum in me?" I whine when I feel his cum start to splash against my soaked walls.

"I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy with my cum," Max grunts hiding his face in my neck overwhelmed with the pleasure coursing through his body.

"Fuck Max," I gasp when he starts slipping his cock from my overly sensitive pussy.

"I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy," Max groans out as he watches his cum leak from my pussy. Max takes a few more seconds to gather himself before he slips out of bed and finds one of his discarded shirts on the floor before he slowly starts cleaning the mess between my thighs.

Once I'm cleaned up he grabs a clean shirt of his before slipping in onto my body and slipping a second shirt onto himself before pulling a clean pair of briefs on.

"I'm hungry," Max whines once he's settled into the bed making me laugh softly.

"We have food here," I reply back softly making Max groan.

"I wanna call Lando! Maybe he'll pick us up something," Max says softly making me laugh at him before finding his discarded phone tangled in the sheets and handing it to him.

"Go on and call your boyfriend," I joke making Max roll his eyes.

"I love you Norris's what can I say," Max teases with a shrug of his shoulder.

"Landooo, I want a burger," Max whines into the phone making me laugh at my needy boyfriend.

"Please!" Max says excitedly when I hear Lando tell him he could pick us up something.

"What do you want love?" Max asks me telling him my order before he tells Lando his order.

"He'll be here in 20 minutes," Max says with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Can't believe you called him," I laugh before cuddling into his side and allowing my body to relax and enjoy the high while we wait for Lando to arrive with our food.

[inkyquince]

anyway, durge having weird ritual blood sex with gortash. Shout out to @angrelysimpping who sent the prompt from the sex magic book they were reading because we're both insane.

characters. lord enver gortash :3

content warning. dark urge reader. pre-tadpole era. gortash being viciously down bad, because he's very willing to have sex with durge while they're covered in blood and being watched by the cultists. exhibitionism. blood play. gore mention, along with murder. 2.6k words.

"Howerever, he also added a powerful dose of Tantrism by suggesting that magical work should be conducted in the nude, with the ritual use of a flail, and that rites should be led by a High Priest and High Priestess who would literally or symbolically couple at the climax of certain rituals." The Book Of English Magic, Carr-Gomm. P. 

Gortash was not one to be summoned. Summoned, sent for, demanded to show up with haste at the whim of someone else. While he might schmooze with the Duke and hastily head over when Ravengard demands him to come talk, he is a man not to be controlled and demanded things of. 

But you always were such a delicious thorn in his side. While others, like Thorm, would try to pry it out, getting their fingers bloodied as they struggled to grip onto it, Gortash relished the sting that came with every movement. The ache, the soreness of the skin struggling to reject the barb, the trickle of blood leaking down his side. He adored it. The cushy life he led in Baldur’s Gate had softened his skin, despite the sulfur of the hells soaked into it. You were refreshing. A tinge of pain that was inflicted on him in the House of Hope by the boatload, except this time, the claws that had raked down his back as a punishment had turned into something deeply pleasurable for him. 

So when you sent for him, he’d never dream of keeping you waiting. Your letter mentioned something about needing his help with a ritual of Bhaal’s, so while he was looking forward to seeing you, he was quietly hoping that you weren’t about to blood sacrifice him or something. It would put a damper on the plans you two shared. 

Gortash knows the path down to Bhaal’s temple well enough by now. He almost basked in it, enjoying the looks the other worshippers would shoot him as he made his way down, some questioning, some openly hostile and a select few viciously jealous. But this journey down was different. No stray cultists, whispering about guts and garroting. No weird little butler scuttling after him. 

Nothing.

Except when the chanting reaches his ears. 

The low, rhythmic voices, all whispering, all culminating into something strange, something wrong, something that makes the hair on his neck stand up on end. Gods, he really hopes he isn’t a sacrificial lamb here. He refuses to spurn an invitation from you, so he continues down, down, down, the chanting getting louder, louder, louder. 

Entering the main sanctum, he finally sees all. Bhaalists crowding all the stairs leading down to the platform with the sacrificial altar, with no sign of you. Just a deep, dark, pool of blood, big enough for someone to swim in. Even more worrying. 

His presence didn’t go unnoticed. The cultists were already parting for him to make his way through, and closing in behind him, barring him from exiting. The whispers quietened for just a second before resuming, even louder as he was prodded, like cattle to continue down. Before too long he stood on the platform, his palms itching. Just when he was about to demand answers, the chanting stopped, the disconcerting whispers cutting off into dead silence immediately. 

The blood in the pool quivered and a body breached the liquid, coated in a deep, slippery crimson. 

Fuck. 

Gortash always knew you were sublime in red. But you were completely covered. Dripping blood as you step out of the pool, you don’t even push away the blood painting your face, not when you open your eyes and focus on him. 

The entire room seemed to drink you in, your naked form, glazed with the very essence your father urged you to spill. It was only a few seconds of silence before the chanting resumed, but it was different this time. As if the previous whispering had been a chorus of begging, for you to emerge, but now? It was a demand, for the ritual to resume, for it to be completed, to taint the room further. 

All the air in Gortash’s lungs had stilled, but when you came closer, it rushed out all at once. Your naked form was always deeply divine to him, no matter how many times he bedded it. While he paid for his whores and some married ladies adorned his bed, he often got tired of them, seeing them as run through, and no longer exciting. But you? Fuck. Hells, even your bloodied, nude form was already getting him hard. 

“Sorry for the vague invitation.” You murmur, as if you two were at a soiree that he just got the invitation for. “Needed someone for this and I don’t think Thorm can get it up at his age.” 

Gortash’s lips twitch, but your bloodied fingers curling around his wrist silenced his snarky retort. Nothing to say, not when you lead him to the altar. 

“What-” 

You hushed him, pressing a finger against his lips and leaving a crimson mark in its wake. 

“Don’t worry. Just a ritual for each decade that passes. Better me than Sarevok, believe me, even if he has run out of his own spawn to give daughters to.” You roll your eyes but push him back, against the altar, forcing him down as you straddle him, staining his clothes. 

He’ll never throw them out. 

The altar was no soft bed, and while he wasn’t a squeamish man, the strong smell of blood was clouding his head. It was at this angle, that he noticed the cuts along your side, looking like marks made by a flail, even though the blood you were drenched in weren’t from your own injuries. Even the dozens of eyes trained on the two of you, there was a delicious string of excitement, pulling his spine taut and tight. 

Gortash was no Bhaalist, not when he followed Bane, so while he was no stranger to certain rituals, he was unused to ones of this… Variety. He made a note to himself that he should read up on them, just in case he was about to have a Bhaalspawn of his own somehow. Not that there has never been an attempt to baby trap him in the past, but this was… Different. 

You, naked and bloodied, on top of him with wild, dark eyes, the chanting of some, excuse his phrasing, cultist weirdos echoing in his ears. The only thought his mind could form as you dragged your hand over his lips, down his throat, was that if this was a ritual purely for Bhaal, he did hope He wasn’t aware that he was the one getting hard underneath his favorite spawn. 

But that seemed to be the point. You gave him a dangerous smile, blood slipping in between your lips and staining your teeth, similar to when you’d bite him during sex and come away with crimson painting your tongue. As per usual, you had no patience for his belt, instead opting to barely loosen it and slip his trousers down enough for his cock to spring free. Thank the Gods he had, a self admittedly fat, “pretty” cock. Though, he doubts if he didn’t, you wouldn’t have bothered with him beyond your first tryst. But being humiliated in front of the dagger happy zealots was not high on his list of priorities. 

His busy mind screeched to a halt as you slowly began to pump his cock, even as he was hard as hells. Your touch, even just a nudge or your fingers brushing, felt like lightning, like something otherworldly was deigning to caress his very mortal skin. Your eyes, so delicious and darkened drank in his expression, his slow, shallow breaths as you continued to practically fucking play with him, like a mouse under your claw. 

“Don’t tease me.” He murmured, low and throaty, just for the two of you and you just smiled your wicked grin. 

Instead of heeding his request, you leaned down, as if to press a kiss to his chapped lips, and he raised his head to meet your kiss, but instead of something soft, he felt your teeth bite down. Splitting his bottom lip and letting his own blood trickle into your mouth. Even with just a few seconds of your lips against his even with the pain of being bitten, he missed it the second you pulled away. You firmly pushed him back down, but the ache from slamming his head against the stone altar was muted, when you refused to let up on massaging his cock, the pleasure seeping into his veins like poison. 

“Fuck.” He hissed through his teeth, wanting to lean his head back and shut his eyes, but there was something deeply magnetic lingering in your eyes that made it impossible for him to ever look away. 

You yourself slowly grinded against his thigh, enjoying the way the Chosen of Bane squirmed like a rodent caught in a trap. Shame he was such a charming rodent, one that nosed against your ear and chittered oh so invitingly. Your older brother hated the scurrying little things so, he used to take you aside as a child, and whisper to you exactly how to catch them, and then make them squeal. But this rodent, with his nice dark coat and fiendish eyes, the one who squirms so nice in your hand? He seems a bit too cute to crush. 

Especially with the way he was panting low and hard, his tongue dragging over his teeth. Blood smeared over his mouth and chin, and his clothes were stained similarly. Delicious. 

“Just let me fuck you already.” He gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into your bare, bloodied thighs. 

“Oh, that’s cute.” You murmured, low and heady in the way he adores so, at least in his room with the servants sent home for the day. You felt his cock twitch in your hand at the tone. “This is about restraint. Submission.” 

Gortash hissed through his teeth again, but said nothing, just drank the sight of you in. You finally took pity, with his hungry, desperate eyes that you usually only saw at the meetings, with maps strewn across the table, as he talked about the plans for the future. It’s also a look that he used to give you when you two first met. Raising your hands to his lips and kissing the knuckles, eyes boring into you. It’s a look that grew in intensity each time you met, until the night he got you alone finally, dragging his hand greedily over your side as he leaned in to kiss your throat. You’d thought it would end up diminishing but it never did. It quietened at times, but he had the look of an addict waiting for his next fix. 

Finally shifting up, you pressed his leaking cockhead against your hole. Enver could feel it slicked with blood, but his mind raced with thoughts about you getting ready for the ritual, writing out the letter inviting him down as you slowly fingered yourself, lubed up to your knuckles and imagining him. Or Thorm, since apparently he was also an option. Thank the Gods that the sight of you dipped head to toe in blood was far more arousing than that intrusive thought, otherwise he might have gone soft. No doubt if you two were ever having sex and he lost his erection, you’d butcher him right then and there. 

No, just his cockhead slipping inside of you had him struggling to concentrate, the chanting beginning to rise in volume again. Gortash couldn’t even figure out the words, it just made his head spin. 

You just watched him try to breathe slowly and evenly as you enjoyed the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you before you slammed your hips down, making him bottom out inside of you. His cock was your favorite, no doubt about it. Out of all the ones you’ve seen, flaccid and puckered in death as your followers stripped them of their belongings, hard and ready for the select lovers you picked out, unaware that they were bedding a spawn of Bhaal, his remained the best. Maybe it was because he was one of the few madmen ready to stick their dick in the God of Murder’s child, maybe it was because it was curved in a way that hit just right deep inside of you. Or maybe he was one of the few men that had the talent to back up their bragging mouth. 

Gortash couldn’t help but thrust upwards, into you, basking in the whorish sounds of your moans. Your fingers dug into the section of his exposed chest, beginning to ride him in earnest, as if there weren't the cultists watching without heat to their eyes, as if watching you do your daily chores. Wasn’t exactly a turn on, Enver thought grimly, though if you would just let him finally take you to the brothel and allow at least the prostitutes to admire the amazing work you two put into having disgustingly dirty sex. 

You rode him roughly, just watching as he struggled to look away from you, his own blunt nails digging into your thighs even more, as if trying to make sure to keep you there. Blood coated his cock as he thrusted up into you the wet slapping of skin against crimson glazed skin echoing throughout the room, the chanting drowning out your shared sighs and moans. 

Fuck, it felt too good. He was dying to fondle your chest, pinch your nipples till they were all sore and puffy and so cute. The only downsides that he could only be half sure that you wouldn’t cut off his hand for touching anywhere other than your perfect fucking thighs. The blood was slowly drying on you, the glimmering sheen giving way to a dark matte look, pieces flaking off. You looked fucking perfect. 

Gortash was clinging onto the edge, concentrating on not cumming before you did, but you wouldn’t be one of his favorite pieces of ass if you couldn’t see through him as if he was made of glass. With a nasty smirk, you leaned down again, mid bounce and kissed him right on the mouth, swearing the blood from his bitten lip. It was too much at that point. He was not some virgin who came from kissing, but fuck. Fuck. 

He arched his back, pressing his cock deep inside of you as he came, filling you up till it began to drip out, along your bloodied thighs. You sighed, low and soft, tensing up around him to the point the poor fuck was seeing stars. The chanting slowly eased off into the casual hum of conversation, as you slowly slipped the Lord out of you, letting his cum spill out freely. 

The cultists dispersed among themselves and back into the alternating halls as Gortash slowly regained his breath and sat up. 

“A little head’s up would have been greatly appreciated.” He grumbled, hiking his trousers back up and tucking his softening cock away. 

“And miss out on the chance of you chickening out?” 

“I’d never.” He finally sat up and watched as the cum slipped down your legs to the floor, mixing with the blood to make a soft pink color. “... But if I did fail to show, any particular person you’d have picked?” 

“Probably would have grabbed a random guy. Like the one who loves to skin people while they’re dying.” 

Gortash quietly made a note to have that certain one jailed for some other thing as you stretched and glanced back at him. 

“I need company as I bathe.” 

You, of course, would never ask him to give you company as you washed yourself of all the blood and cum, but who was he to say no to such an appealing command? 

[broz0neglitters]

How do I make you love me? ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Brozone Headcanons Smut/NSFW Fem Reader Warning: Bit of Smut & P*rn Mention

John Dory:

-He has a box full of old p*rn dvd and in his bands day when ever his younger brother were out of the room plus grandma wasn't around john would watch it bruce knows that john still has that p*rn dvd collection

-His Cock is massive he would tear ya

-He loves to cockwarm so be expected to do it all the time

-once you start sucking his cock he will thrust and face fuck you til his cum fills your mouth

-when he left he brought the p*rn dvd with him he would watch it alone he would jerk off to it

-He wants to make a p*rn video with you but you refused which made him sad but he understands right?

-But he would still begged for it desperately and seeking your approval to let him atleast flim you two doing it but you made him promise to never publish it anywhere if he dose you'll hunt him down and cut his balls off you're that serious

-John Jerks off anywhere but he will most likey get caught by other trolls and even you + his brother dude can't keep his hand to himself

-He out of all of his brothers will most likey have a OnlyTroll account (Trolls version of Only fans)

-You feel awkward when he flims going to town on you

-Clay Thought it would be funny to see what john posted so he made a fake girl account and brought it and holy shit clay saw his own brother cock and clay immediately had nightmares for days he couldn't even looked at John the same way ever again poor dude

-John is super awkward during sex he can't even talk dirty to you making your sex super awkward come on he spends his 20 years alone in the woods with a armadillo :c

-John is rough at fingering you at some point you might bleed cuz of him

"John dory you asshole you're making me bleed thanks to you I'll be bleeding for the nexts fews days!" you said angirly while cleaning the blood off yourself in the bathroom he tried to apologized but you ignore him

-Horny af

-wants you to send nudes to him every hour or so even when you're hanging with friends there's a catch he wants you to play with yourself which made you rolled your eyes at him but you still do it anyways he wants you to moan it was hard for you cause you didn't want your friends espically your parents to hear it

"Gosh why did I date that asshole." you said to yourself...

-John will jerk off to every video/nudes photos you send to him is his ways of jerking off when your not around

---------------

Bruce:

-He wants to make sex last eternally with you because he needs a breakthrough and he only wants what right in front of him which was you

-his cock is big and thick

-also horny af

-Both rough and gentle in somedays

-He is least likey to get caught jerking off he only wants you to walk in on him jerking off that's all he ever wanted

-He will face fuck the shit out of you

-cockwarming are this thing he would beg for it constantly

-he definitely watches p*rn he also own half of the P*rn dvd collection cuz JD Gave him half of it

-He gave the dvd back to john cuz he doesn’t needs it anymore

-Back in his bands day being a heartthrob he would go to their places and have sex with them so basically a one night stand I could say

-A fan once leaked a video of him fucking her and bruce demands she takes it down because he dose not want his grandma to see it same with his younger brother and also the whole world it would ruin brozone reputation so he only told john about it and they found a lawyer... Thankfully the video was taken down but bruce still can't live that down he's afraid that clay,floyd and branch will find that video...

-Also john dory was such a supportive brother during that time when bruce told him about the leaked video he put all activities aside and help bruce get that video get taken down that was the only time john dory wasn’t his bossy self...

-he would make sure there's no camera hidden in the room you told him that there was none and you told him not to worry about it at all put he still take your phone and lock it somewhere he's that paranoid

-Bruce will gently finger you until you beg him for more he doesn’t make you bleed unlike john dory

-Bruce is a smooth talker and he's great at talking dirty it makes you even turn on during sex you crave for his dick inside of you even if he hasn’t put it in yet that's how good he is at dirty talking

-----------------

Clay:

-You guys go back in time where you guys were just friends with benefits but shortly after you two actually have feelings for each others so you guys started dating so you both were no longer friends with benefits

-Clay dosen't have time for p*rn he watched it with you sometimes even as a movie night

-Also the least to get caught jerking off he also would want you to caught him jerking off to your photos

-His dick is thin and long

-He's can be rough in some day and gentle in some days aswell

-only Horny when you're around

-He will face fuck you

-Cockwarming while he works is a must for you

-He likes to name called you like Bitch and slut and so on

-He will pull your hair while fucking you

-Rough at fingering you but dosen't make you bleed like jonh did

-remember how I mention he made a fake onlytrolls account and pretended to be a girl to see JD Well he saw JD Cock and wanted to jump off a bridge and when ever john dory comes to visit clay can't even look at john in the eye or even talk to him the only thing clay ever said was hi and bye to john...

-He's also good at dirty talking every words he said will only make you want him even more

-when looking at him in the eye while hitting your sweet spots it makes him turn on by seening your expressions when he hits your sweet spot

-He always busy so when's he's at work he would ask if you could send him nudes/video of you playing with yourself

-He wouldn't jerk off cuz he's at work but he'll praise you but once he gets home he demand you fuck him right here and then no excuses cause he's been waiting all day to get fuck your pretty little cunt...

----------------

Floyd:

-You and floyd are super shy during your first time

-Small cock late bloomers but don't underestimated his small cock plz

-You felt uncomfortable getting naked in front of floyd but be told you " I can see the real you, girl You don't have to hide I'll teach you how to shine." he said smiling at you but shortly after you feel comfortable to get naked in front of him

-Floyd would ask if you could cockwarm him he needs it while you cockwarm floyd would usally writes songs or just sings

-He is horny when you cockwarm him only when you cockwarm him

-He watches p*rn 24/7 even when you're around

-He dosen't jerk off and will never get caught jerking off he only wants to do it when you play with yourself

-he dosen't face fuck you he's the only brozone who's dosen't face fuck you and he's super gentle aswell

-when he fingers you he loves to see your expression he would smirk when he hits your sweet spot

-He loves it when you send him nudes he will also send you a dick pics aswell he'll compliment you making you feel extra comfortable in your own skins when sending nudes to him

"You look stunnting baby." Etc

-Floyd also witnesses clay making a onlytrolls account and pretending to be a girl (you already know the content.) floyd would tease clay about it for days althought floyd didn't see it himself he knows it bad cause he saw clay put many eyes drop to hopefully blind him at what he just saw it was worste than seening a puppy get taken away from his mother and cows getting killed to be made into beef.

----------------

Branch:

-His dick is pretty average size just perfect

-He has a massive crush on you he wants to make you fall for him

-He will jerk off but only in his bunker so he will never get caught at all

-Also rough and gentle in some days

-Cock warming is a must for him in fact is the 1st thing that you guys do at his bunker when you come over

-He is shy to asked you to have sex with him even when you guys are just simply cockwarming

-He watches p*rn in full volume also like floyd 24/7

-He loves to finger you especially in front of a mirror because he wants to see your expression

-He would sometimes asked him self "How do I make her want me?"

-Just like bruce he wants sex to  last eternally he never wants you to never stop having sex with him "How do I make you love me?" he would asked you while you were cockwarming him

"Branch, I'll always love you even if we're having sex i'll never leave you." you said kissing his soft cheek which made him blush and giggle he has abandonment issues

-Branch likes to tease you by thrusting on accident just to see how you would react usually when he dose you would let out a gasp or a tiny moan

-He is horny but only when you asked him to fuck you

----------------- Anyways, I hoped you enjoyed it anyways Request are closed for now and will reopen very soon and also I have updated my blog so please be sure to check out my latest update here's the link:

Plz read it I would appreciate if you all do read it and hopefully you all understands and respect my time off as-well anyways have a great day I will be sure to make a part 2 of brozone smut headcanons <3 Like + Follow are very much appreciated!

[avonne-writes]

Truth serum/spell for the fanfic situation prompts!

Maybe it’s some wacky Nazi truth serum they use during interrogations.

Gale gets dosed, but he’s so good at keeping his thoughts internal that they don’t get any information out of him.

BUT the second he’s alone with Bucky again, he can’t help but confess his feelings to the man he’s been pining for for years. (Maybe it’s a little angsty and Gale is crying/upset because he feels like the secrets he’s kept so closely guarded this whole time are being forced out of him and he’s ruining his friendship with Bucky)

Very old ask, I’m sorry it took so long! With a truth serum prompt, I couldn’t go any other way - I had to write a Reverie drabble. (Some of this probably won't make sense if you haven't read Reverie, but to sum it up quickly, John and Gale have a soulmate bond that allows them to connect in their dreams. Gale is captured and interrogated by the Germans.)

Warning for non-graphic description of torture and drugging.

Cold. The sensation is a cloak around Gale's shoulders where he sits stripped down to his undershirt and tied to a chair. It’s a veil over his eyes as he stares into the ruthless gaze of the interrogator across the table, as the indifferent expressions of the Nazi doctors surround him. It’s a gaping wound in his chest where he carved out everything that kept him warm over the years and locked it behind a wall. I'm sorry, John, I’m so sorry -

One of the men in the white lab coats moves forward, and Gale starts trashing but it's futile, his binds hold fast, and the injection prickles the tender inside of his left elbow to pour fire into his veins.

“No, no more, get away from me!” Gale snarls and tries to headbutt the man, but the others dart forward and hold him down, keep his head turned away and steady as more pain pierces his arm. Two more injections.

He's helpless against the torture of it all.

When they captured him, he was determined to face their interrogations stoically. They wouldn’t get anything out of him, he thought. Pain isn’t unfamiliar company, neither is hunger, and Gale knows how to grit his teeth through anything when he has to. His only weakness, the only thing he held precious, he cut off himself. He has always been good at making tough calls like that. But nothing could have prepared him for the enemy using his own mind to work against him. The primal fear that coursed through him when they first brandished those needles, the way his heart raced in panic when they held him in place and pushed concoction after concoction into him.

He doesn’t know what they’re giving him, but it always hits him the same way. Hot flashes and sweat rolling down his body, mixing with the salty wetness that leaks from his eyes as his control slips away. Vicious waves of nausea and shaking as his heart beats frantically to cope with the drug in his blood. And the worst of it all - the spirals, checkerboards, funnels flooding his vision.

Reality unravels like a ball of yarn.

Someone slaps him, and he blinks at dark, unfamiliar eyes as an accented voice asks him questions he barely understands. How much time has passed? He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know. There’s no window in this cell, and no concept of time in a space filled with sluggishly undulating patterns. Rippling walls, funnels in place of eyes, checkered patterns on his own hands. Are they his own hands?

The questions keep coming. If he doesn’t reply, they hit him again, and his confusion strips him of his ability to lie. He says the first thing on his mind. The cuts on his cheek hurt. His arm is on fire. Saliva and bile dribble from his mouth, but they wipe it off. Sounds and shapes become a blur. Then they're asking about John. They want Gale to get information out of him.

“I don't know.” Gale mumbles to all of their questions, because he really doesn’t. He severed the connection. He had to. He doesn’t know how John's doing now, whether he is on another mission or directing things from the ground. He hopes he can forgive Gale one day. He hopes they see each other again. He hopes they survive.

The Germans curse in frustration. They don’t believe him when he says he doesn’t know. He's untied and lifted from the chair, and one of the doctors whispers in his ear, tells him to stop being stubborn, for Christ's sake. Manic, Gale laughs weakly. They don’t believe him, but he’s telling the truth. No matter how strong his mind is, it’s no match for this - this truth serum, but they can’t hurt John through him.

Unceremoniously, he's thrown on a cot and tied down again, then there's another prick at his arm, and he falls asleep.

Shapeless dreams swirl around him as he tries to grasp at something to anchor himself. Memories of voices and emotions, love and fear and pain until he finds himself sitting crumpled by a brick wall so tall that he can’t see where it ends. One look around tells him that he’s back in flight school, at the base where he met John in person for the first time. He can’t place the wall anywhere in those memories, but he gives up trying soon enough because funnels start opening all around him, sucking patches of ground into their bottomless depths between the barracks, and there's no escape.

A hand shakes his shoulder. “Hey, Buck.”

Gale jumps. “John!”

He's not supposed to be here. It’s hard to remember why, but Gale knows this instinctually, so he fists a hand in John's uniform shirt and pushes at him, trying to force him out of his dream, but John doesn’t react at all.

“The boys and I figured we could go dancing tonight. You should come.” John grins as if everything was right in the world. “I'll show you what it's all about.”

“You shouldn't be here.” Gale screws his eyes shut and hugs John's broad frame.

Suddenly, the dream shifts and blurs, then refocuses once they're standing on the shore of a lake, dark blue surface glittering in the sunshine. Pebbles click against each other in Gale's palm. Without thinking, he throws one into the water. It skips a few times before it sinks.

“This is boring, Buck. I wanna go dancing.” John says beside him.

Again, Gale jolts as lucidity comes back, and he drops the pebbles to shake John by his shoulders. “Go away!” He snaps, overcome by an inexplicable fear. “I won’t let them hurt you -”

A sharp pain lances through him, like glass shards cutting into his limbs, and he doubles over in his dream, whimpering. He doesn’t know how long he stays like that, but when his agony subsides, he’s in a roughly structured space, where everything is blurry, even John's face. It looks like a dorm room, and Gale remembers it as the night he told John he and Marge had slept together. Feeling dizzy, he climbs on the bed and wraps his arms around John. With his face tucked into the crook of John's neck, he starts crying.

“I love you.” He confesses to John. He’s been aching to say it for so long, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t. “I've loved you since I was seventeen.”

The coppery taste of déjà vu fills Gale's mouth. John's body disappears, and Gale is left alone with a blurry wall and another burst of pain. It builds and builds, in his temples and wrists and every vein, the pressure increases until he screams. He wants to pound his fists on that wall because something tells him that relief lies behind it, but a part of him pushes back. Never destroy the wall. Never. Never. Never. So Gale sits there and screams for John until his throat feels scraped raw. Then, there's nothing.

He wakes up dizzy and nauseous, as is usual since they started injecting him. How many days ago? He can’t tell. At least, until the next interrogation starts, he’s lucid and aware. Cautiously, he opens his eyes to look around, but he’s alone in the dark room, and nothing ties him to the bed. Light filters in through the gaps of the door.

Gale's arm itches as if it was stung by a thousand mosquitoes, but he doesn’t dare scratch it. What if the needle marks get infected? With a weak hand, he pinches the bridge of his nose. It’s a gesture he picked up as a child. It always helps him calm down. He thinks about his vivid, excruciating nightmares and breathes a sigh of relief. With his thoughts clear now, he knows that his hard work on building a barrier between him and John paid off. The Johns he saw in his dream were only figments of his imagination. The real John never came. He’s safe.

Triumph works better than any painkiller. For a moment, Gale's smiling.

Then, he hears the sound of boots on concrete. The door of his cell swings open, bathing the walls in sharp light that makes Gale squint at the German officer who approaches him. Gale braces himself for another round of interrogations, but the man just nods and tells him that they're transferring him.

Holding on tight to every tendril of his determination, Gale pushes himself to his feet and lets them take him to whatever new hell awaits.

Everything will be okay, as long as his soulmate is safe.

[hugemilkshake]

RomanticCan you make yandere evil Pure Vanilla Cookies and Y/n Cookie? "Romantically"

Enjoy your milkshake! Now when I read evil I interpret it as a pure vanilla who is a bit more like shadow milk in a way, like a pure vanilla who will tell you pretty little lies whenever he wants

Yandere Pure Vanilla Headcannons

-romatic insinuation-

!TW! Under the cut are themes like Manipulation, obsessiveness, delusions, neglecting an injury, stealing items, and mentions of injuries

You are probably a raisin villager in this

And you met Pure Vanilla- or well Healer Cookie via Black Raisin

Since you met Healer Cookie you’ve probably had known him for a while

Healer Cookie was actually pretty normal towards you!

He would heal you if you got hurt, taking care of your wounds and bruises with such care

But once he saw you with his eyes when he was revealed to be one of the ancient hero’s he didn’t want to stop looking at you

You were so beautiful, like sunshine after a horrible storm

Pure Vanilla would still take care of your wounds but he wanted to spend time with you. But how could he get you to spend time with him?

Well one time he lied to you. He told you that you needed to rest for a few minutes because your wound needs a little more time to heal

And you actually stayed!

You actually stayed…

Well Pure Vanilla started to lie to you more…

You should let him help you up, your leg needs to adjust to your weight again, you need to lay down, your dizzy! Pure Vanilla doesn’t mind you resting your head on his shoulder, just get some rest

One time you left something with him, he was going to return it to you but this was yours. He should keep it

After that he kept taking things you have.

Your handkerchief? The wind must of carried it off! Your pencil? Someone must have taken it thinking it was theirs.

Pure Vanilla has a shrine dedicated to you in his room. You were his sunshine, his bluebird, his everything.

Well, after some time obsessing over you, he feel’s himself getting butterflies in his stomach when he thinks of you.

Dose he… love you?

It seems like it… you are so amazing! How could he not fall in love with you?

Well you must love him to! He heals you whenever your hurt! He’s so kind and caring to you! You must love him.

Well… he loves you so much he starts to make excuses to why he can’t talk to the other villagers…

He needs to go feed the birds, he needs to water the garden, he’s busy!

He just doesn’t want to talk to them, their not as important as you

One day you came to him in his garden full of white lilies, your leg had been cut, jam was leaking out of it… it looked bad.

He softly smiled and told you to sit by him so he could heal it

Now… he was going to heal you immediately but… he didn’t want to. He wanted you to lean on him.. to give him some affection

So he told you that it would be a while to heal this wound, so just rest your head on his lap and let him heal you!

After a while, you fell asleep, the sweet vanilla scent and Pure Vanillas voice lulled you to sleep.

Pure Vanilla smiled at your sleeping face

You were such a pretty cookie

…. Now this didn’t go unnoticed… Black Raisin noticed… she told Gingerbrave to tell the other ancient hero’s when he went to go find them…

[xxsycamore]

methinks......... lactation

TWO OF YOU?! I'm kinkshaming you!! *proceeds to write this*

TW: PREGNANCY

Napoleon + lactation (we're assuming cisfem reader for this one)

Now that you're nice and bred, having Napoleon's eyes on you is the norm - he just can't let you out of his sight, you must be safe and protected at all times. That means he notices every little change in your body, the same body that he might as well know better than you do... you should have expected this. Yet it probably comes out of the blue, one night while you're changing for bed and slipping into that nightgown that is specially selected to accommodate your growing bump. Napoleon is there to assist you, pulling your hair free from the back of the neckline once you pulled it over your head, sliding his hands down the curves of your body until he lets them rest on your belly... and then begins to slide them up again, on your front. And then he asks, "Do you feel them any different? They've gotten a little heavier, it seems."

And really, did you feel the change? You're probably a little embarrassed by how Napoleon figuratively puts you under a looking glass, waiting for the signs of your advancing pregnancy... his hands are groping your breasts, delicately covered by the fine lace of the nightgown, but he's being very gentle. He expects them to be sensitive, and you're yet to give him an answer so he might remove his hands altogether, always careful not to make you uncomfortable.

And if you mutter something about your breasts having begun to leak milk, he won't be able to keep his composed expression. You're still in front of the mirror, after all. All you have to do is look at the reflection, and you'll be able to see this lust darkening the normally clear aquamarine pools of his eyes. Maybe you find it a little unexpected, depending on how you feel about this, but either way Napoleon will push this sudden emotion away, collect your chin and turn it around for a kiss. He can tell when you're nervous about sharing something with him, so he's quick to reassure. "Your body is beautiful." "This is normal and expected." "Tell me if I could help you in any way."

In fact, there is a way for him to help - maybe they really have begun to ache a little, in a way you're unfamiliar with, but you figure it won't hurt to try - or maybe your pregnancy just simply makes you horny about his hands on your boobs. Either way, you two get to that point, and Napoleon being Napoleon, he gives your breasts the usual dose of attention and some more - and while his beautiful strong hands knead your breasts with the intention to massage, something you both knew would happen happens, and a single milky-white droplet travels down the gap of his fingers.

It's strange because neither of you cares much about making a mess while being intimate, yet you have the same reaction about something needing to be done here. And maybe that's when Napoleon follows that droplet and catches it with his tongue. You might avert your gaze and call out his name scoldingly, but he's going to chuckle and wait for you to look back at him. There's a silent question hanging in the air above you that you're both very much aware of. And maybe you do give him consent...

Once you give in, you're going to wonder why you didn't think of this sooner - but you can't help it, the sight of Napoleon putting your nipple in his mouth is obscene. It's a funny thing, considering how you've seen the exact same sight hundreds of nights, including the one that put you in that state, yet you can't help it. Napoleon drags the tip of his tongue around your darkened areola before he takes the engorged nipple in his mouth, and he suckles on it. And the feeling is a little weird and new, and also so good, as your breast gradually begins expressing milk. He's always been so kind to you. So ready to help. To give you pleasure. It really is no different.

You will be a little surprised when he shifts a little to a more comfortable position and you find out that he's doing this because his pants have become uncomfortably tight on his groin. If you put your hands on his cheek to make him let go and ask him how is this making him hard, he'll look you with those lust-crazed eyes, breathing just a little heavier than usual when he's buried in your chest, and you won't be able to miss the way he licks his lips clean before speaking to you, expression becoming a tad more serious just for a moment. "I can't help it. The sight of you being so motherly, becoming like that because of what I did to you... it makes me desire you like crazy. Forgive me for being so dirty, Nunuche."

Will you forgive him? Will you stroke his cock while he nurses from you? If you do, you might have discovered a new special kink you and Napoleon are going to participate in for a while... After the birth of your child, your breasts are bound to be in need of relief when you produce excessive milk. You'll be grateful that you left yourself in Napoleon's care, as he eagerly turns your aches to a content pleasure surging all over. He might finger you while he sucks mouthfuls of milk out of your breasts, delighted at how fast he's able to make you cum on his hand. Just don't indulge him too much, or as soon as you stop lactating he's going to think about knocking you up again.

7/10 "I'm just showing my thankfulness for your body that is working to nurture our child. Isn't that what a loving husband is supposed to do? Come now, sit on my lap and let me do this for you. I promise I'll try to hold off from bending you over at least until I'm done relieving you."

-> (ALWAYS OPEN) send me a kink & I’ll give you a headcanon and rating for Napoleon!

🦶foot fetish 🥵breeding kink 🥕pregging 😈dom/sub 🍈breast kink ⛓bondage 🩸period kink 👄marking 🐺predator/prey 🏙public sex 🤗praise kink 👅 cunnilingus 🍌blowjobs (receiving) 🚪getting caught 🖐️masturbation

[drewsbuzzcut]

Hotshot

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: smut!!!

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” you whisper as your lips ghost Mat’s. You’re hovering over his bare body, arms bracing yourself on the mattress.

“Oh yeah?” He cocks his head to the side, a cocky grin taking over his face. The high of his achievements fill his veins.

“Hell yeah,” he says, reaching out to thumb at your bottom lip. You teasingly suck it into your mouth, maintaining strong eye contact with your man. You watch as he gulps and a light pink blush forms on his cheeks.

“An all-star and 400 career points. You’re amazing, baby. I love you,” you state, covering his mouth with yours.

“Couldn’t do it without you by my side,” he sighs, head falling back almost in the mountain of pillows behind him.

You let out a soft hum, smiling down at him before pecking his lips once more.

You press kisses into his jawline, traveling down to his neck and taking your time softly nipping at his sensitive skin. You crawl down his body just a couple inches, wanting to get your lips on his chest. Your brush over the various bruises and scars that litter his smooth skin. Flitting your eyes back up to his face, you flash him a daring and devious smile. You wrap your lips around one of his nipples, quickly sucking it into your mouth. You watch his chest puff up with a deep inhale of air. You follow your actions with a quick bite, laughing when you hear the wince he lets out. Now he knows what it feels like.

“Oops,” you jest, your hand pressing down on his pecs while you scoot down. You need some kind of stability as his success and your arousal clouds your senses. Along the way down his torso, you suck his taut skin into your mouth, leaving your favorite type of bruises in your wake.

You can practically feel him vibrate underneath you, the excitement and anticipation getting to him. Mat’s eyes are closed and you can see the way the muscles in his abdomen ripple with every graze of your fingers. You can feel your heat start to flutter, wanting to be full of him.

His finger under your chin gets you to lift your head up, his lustful gaze makes you drip. The teasing is getting to be too much, you just want him inside of you. His hard shaft on your tongue as you suck on him.

“I love you,” Mat whispers.

“I love you,” you lick at his happy trail, hiding your smirk when his hips jump up.

You finally settle in between his thighs, perched on your own legs as you wrap a hand around his hard cock. You jerk him off, practically getting off to the sweet sounds slipping from his lips. You closely watch his reactions, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and knuckles going white because of his tight clenching.

“If you don’t put me in your mouth, I think I- holy shit,” Mat lets out the most salacious, guttural moan whenever you flick your tongue at his tip. His tip that’s very red and leaking precum.

Your tongue trails along the vein on the backside, but a ravenous urge takes control of your body. You suck his tip into your mouth, sucking in rhythm to his moans.

“400 career points, I should give you 400 blow jobs,” you let him slip out with a wet pop.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” his voice is strained and so sexy.

“It’s what happens when you have a hotshot superstar of a boyfriend,” you lick at his tip again.

Your mouth sinks down on his shaft, a hand fisting whatever can’t fit. As you go up and down, your tongue drags over the thick ridges of his length. Soft moans vibrate in your mouth, making his body thrum even more. You love his taste and the way his body reacts to you. All his muscles tense up until he fights with himself to take deep breaths.

Letting his tip hit the back of your throat, tears blur your eyes and you become breathless. Mat finally opens his eyes- even though they keep rolling to the back of his head- to get a glimpse of spit dripping down your chin. You look delectable. The sounds are obscene, but the way you’re taking him so deep and the way your eyelashes flutter sends his orgasm soaring through his body.

Thick ropes of his cum paint your throat, feeling you with a warmth different from anything you’ve ever felt. His raspy moans make you want to ravage him. You don’t know how you got so lucky with him.

You let out soft moans, making Mat jerk since your mouth is still wrapped around his tip.

“Fuck. Fuck. You’re perfect. I can’t feel my body,” your boyfriend sighs, his chest heaving and covered in a red flush.

“1 down, 399 to go,” you tease, your fingertips teasing his thick thighs. You’re pleased by the way he twitches.

Your smirk doesn’t die, no, not when you notice his eyes on you. He watches you with a questionable gaze. Before he can voice his thoughts, you’re sucking him back into your mouth. Your mouth is going further down, trying to take him all. Your hand starts massaging at his balls, adding fuel to the fire between your bodies.

“Don’t stop,” he whimpers when you pull off, but you just take his balls in your mouth which makes him shut up just as quickly.

You fist his hard cock, pumping him until you feel his balls start to tighten. His body writhes underneath you as you place him back in your mouth. Perfect, red plump lips sucking his tip while your tongue drags back and forth.

“I’m gonna cum. Fuck, baby,” Mat groans, his hands fisting the sheets beneath him while he tries to keep his eyes open and look at you.

You take him deeper, a fierce lust awakening inside of you at the sheer amount of cum that’s spewed in your mouth. You sit back and watch the way his body turns flaccid. His muscles are relaxed and his length is coated in your spit and remnants of his release. Sweat lingers on each divot of his torso and neck. He looks angelic and you feel your wetness start to creep down your thighs just begging for his tongue to lap at.

You crawl back up his body, brushing your lips against every inch of exposed skin just to feel him quiver.

You straddle his hips and lean down so you’re both face to face. You cup one of his cheeks to hold eye contact, needing him to see you be his good girl. You stick out your tongue, his load resting on the wet muscle.

“Holy shit,” he grunts as he throws his head back.

You tilt his head back towards you, making him watch as you swallow his orgasm.

He wraps a tender hand around your throat, pushing his lips against yours and flipping you onto your back, so he can be the one on top.

“I love you,” you moan into his lips, his hands finally exploring your body.

“I love you, and I’m serious when I say I can’t do all this without you,” he declares, staring into your eyes and tracing his initials into the skin over your heart.

He’s so perfect you want to cry, but instead you let him unravel you. Just as you did him.

a/n: A little late, but I hope you enjoy!!! Also this is when they’re just dating!!

[artists-who-rarely-draws]

Hunt down the good in me.

Garroth version.

This was a request from amaizing fan fic writer @starhvney where the reader is injured taking a blow for Laurance.

G/n Reader

Warning: Gore, nothing too crazy but the reader is injured, and I tell you about it, as well as gore being mentioned with the people who ambushed you. Shadow knight Laurance goes on a rampage, hurt comfort both in the literal and metaphorical sense lmfao.

Tysm for the requests! I am always open for more as long as my inbox is open!

Please enjoy!

You really should have expected it you suppose. The bandits had gotten used to easy life outside the remains of Pheonix Drop, raiding supply carts and merchants on their way to or from the small settlement. Obviously they weren't going to leak new arrivals with much bigger equipment than the rest of the inhabitants arriving out of nowhere, much LESS better equipped people fixing the village walls and gates. You suppose you expected them to be more... subtle... cowardly? In their approach to it. Oh how wrong you were.

Thank Irene Laurance carried his greatsword at all times because the closest thing to a weapon *you* currently had was a pick axe to work on the stone parts of the wall, sure sure it would suck ALOT to catch a pickaxe to the... well, anywhere, but it's nothing compared to an actual intended weapon. Laurance took the lead, telling you to stand back the moment the first bandit stepped out of the trees. And you QUICKLY realized just why Laurance was on the potential Jury of Nine list. But at some point, no matter the skill level, numbers can override it.

About 34 bandits had come out of the forest, a handful of the smart ones fled when they saw Laurances sheer skill with a greatsword. You were no expert but you knew that the great sword was one of the more difficult weapons to wield, it's huge size made it's attacks devastating but it required alot of effort to use it, once you were committed to a swing you were just that, committed using this sword was something you had to put the whole momentum of your body into. Apparently, a bandit had figured that out to, as time seems too slow, you watch a masked bandit dual wielding daggers preparing to strike just as Laurance is trapped in a strike against 3 bandits. You can't let this happen! If Laurance gets heavily injured, then it would be pitifully easy for them to take you out being unarmed and then break in and do who knows what to the village! Well... at least that's what you're going to say when Laurance inevitably chews you out for surging forward. Truth being that that you just... didn't want to see your love get hurt no matter the extent.

You throw yourself between Laurance and the bandits blade, adrenaline running through your system before swinging the pick axe with all your might at the bandits head, having to tense your whole body to keep from a full body recoil at the feelings running through you of it tearing through skin and cracking bone the bandit letting out a gurgling cut off shout.

You honestly don't even feel the dagger enter and lodge into your side, turning your head to the side quickly to find Laurance already staring over his shoulder to you, breath held and eyes wide. You couldn't tell, trapped looking into his eyes as shock turned to a lightless rage, but everyone else had stopped fighting as the forest went *silent* no rustling of leaves or chirping of birds, the only sound now to be heard was a reverberating growl from Laurance. Smoke billowing out of the sides of his mouth as his form starts growing much larger.

His scream tears through the forest as he grows he reaches forward, grabbing the nearest bandit by the head and slaming them on the ground with a sickening crack. Fully Shadow knight as he springs forward blood red sword viciously and furiously putting an end to the bandits. You can hardly take it all in, not only with the speed and complexity of his movements, but the smell of sulfur and second dose of adrenaline that rushed through you when he turned, the responce of a injured prey animal desperately trying to run *just a little more* left you lightheaded. But you ignore it, not only because it would only agitate him further, but also.... it was Laurance, the sweet, kind, and thoughtful man you fell in love with, and you weren't going to let your body convince you he was a threat.

Some bandits had tried to run... they didn't get far. Laurance didn't spare even a single one, the forest around you stained red as far as the eye could see, covered in mangled corpses. Laurance stands over what was once... a bandit. Body eerily still as smoke whisps off of his armor. You want to give him a moment to cool down, literally and metaphorically. But the adrenaline has completely left you, and you are more and more aware of the searing pain in your side. No one tells you how much being stabbed feels like fire.

"L-laurance?" Is all you can hoarsely mutter, blood dribbling from your lips before falling to your knees. The shadow knight wips around red eyes wide "Y/N!" He shouts as if snapped out of a trance he runs sliding to his knees to your side.

"I-its okay, you ok-kay don't talk don't talk, I'm here I have you" he rambles quickly, voice trembling as he babbles out reassurances that seem more for himself than you, as he harshly tears at his cape, pain scorching up your side as he ties it to the dagger securing it to your side. You don't know what comes after this.... but you know that just in case you want...

"Love.. you.." You mummer voice hardly a whisper causing him to jump eyes back to that Marble blue, tears falling down his cheeks quickly.

"I Love you, I love you so fucking much, you have to be fine, your fine. We will say it again tomorrow, okay??" He stammers out, starting to pick you up... but your world goes black.

Everything after is a strange.. choppy blur. Laurance held you close to his chest as he ran to Donna's home. Laurance would shout and fight anytime someone tried to convince him to leave your side. And then... you fully fell unconscious.

There's a dull throbbing throughout your entire body, and you're thirsty. You can barely let out a little groan with how dry your throat is. You scrunch up your face and move to tighten your hands into fists before you prop yourself up, but you end up squeezing the hand in yours.

"Y/N!" Laurance shoots up, holding your hand tightly with both of his. You open your eyes to be met with Laurances wide baby blues, tears fulling his eyes as he quickly leans down to give you a heart achingly tender kiss. Cupping your cheek with one hand, you raise one of your own to do the same, ignoring your protesting muscles.

"Thank Irene" he whispers forehead pressed against your own, his tears fall onto your own cheeks, before you work to brush them away.

He will demand to know what you were thinking later... right now he just wants to bask in *you*.

[keeksandgigz]

painkiller (part three of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: After a rocky start, you and Eddie seem to be turning over a new leaf, but a small misunderstanding is sure to change that. You help set up the cafe for the Halloween party, which you end up going to after much begging by Colette, you try to make Eddie jealous and a healthy dose of liquid courage helps things get sentimental.

cw: 4k words, jealous!eddie, swearing, allusion to smut, reader being essentially a sensitive baby, some miscommunication, eddie being a softie for reader, no y/n, no physical description of reader, boys being silly, mention of throwing up/ retching, drinking (everyone is of age), it gets a little bit fluffy towards the end

read part 1 here, part 2 here

if you wanna be added to my taglist the form is here

"You guys fucked??" Colette's voice booms in the car.

"Jesus Christ, Colette, the whole freeway didn't need to know that. And no, we didn't fuck" you take the exit that brings you into Daisy Street, the one towards the cafe.

"Then what? Steve keeps talking about how you guys look at each other like you wanna run to the back and fuck like bunnies" she nudges at you and you roll your eyes.

"Remind me to ask Steve to drive you to work next time, since you guys are such good friends" you smile at her.

"Yeah, whatever, so what happened?" she nibbles at her bagel.

You take a deep breath in. There are no secrets between you and Colette. "Well, he... spanked me" you hear her gasp, without giving her time to start talking you keep going; "Then he took me to his office and fingered me, but he didn't let me um...finish because I wouldn't apologize to him. Then he drove me home" you say, all in one breath.

"You kinky bitch" she laughs, a hearty laugh. After she comes down from her fit, she continues, almost like a phantom hand slapped some sense into her. "But what an asshole! Because you wouldn't apologize to him? And he drove you home?"

"I swear he's so confusing. He wouldn't let me take the bus." You just got your car back after two days without it because of a leak. You pull up into the parking lot.

"Shit, he's outside" you whisper. He's sitting on the curb, cigarette in hand, scrolling through his phone. Something tells you he isn't there to make drinks today. His hair is down and he's wearing chunky rings in both hands. You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it.

As much of an asshole as he is, you've been replaying the night before on a loop for the whole morning. You swallow.

"Too late to turn back and make a run for it" Colette quips as you park the car as further as possible from him.

"So what, do I just go in like 'Hey fancy seeing you here, remember when your fingers were in me last night?' or do I just ignore him?" you groan as you open your car door, grabbing your bag and jacket.

"Maybe wait for him to speak to you? I dunno. He should apologize, that was fucked" Colette says, closing the car door.

You both walk towards the cafe's front door. Eddie catches your eye immediately. Fuck it, your shift wouldn't start until two- thirty.

"Col, I'll meet you inside. Thanksgiving menu is launching soon, Steve'll have your head if you don't walk in right this second" you joke, she just nudges your shoulder and winks at you, as she disappears inside the cafe.

"Y'know" Eddie speaks, taking a long drag out of his cigarette "you shouldn't gossip about me when I can hear you from around the corner. I take it she knows?" he exhales a cloud of smoke, making you take a ragged breath at the way the smoke falls from his lips.

"Maybe you shouldn't overhear my conversations. Ever thought about that? And so what if she knows? Steve probably knows too" you spit.

"I usually don't tell Steve about the girls I fuck. Last night wasn't even a fuck, really. I just showed you what was so incredibly obvious to the naked eye, sweetheart" he puts the cigarette to his lips again.

"Which is?" you don't have patience for the slow drawl of his voice, sounding like he's just woken up. The way his fingers wrap around the cigarette, his lips puckering up as he sucks into the filter. You shiver.

"That we wanna fuck each other. Don't tell me that you're not looking at me and not thinking about what I did to you last night" Gotcha. He smiles around the cigarette.

"You really do think too highly of yourself" you sit on the curb, keeping a distance between you two.

"I've been thinking about last night the whole morning" he blurts out, putting his cigarette out on the sole of his boots “It was good, but you were kind of a bitch about me not letting you cum. Maybe you should rethink about apologizing” he smirks towards you.

“Well, I don't think last night should have happened at all" you shrug, pretending like the way he's playing with his chain bracelet isn't affecting you. He turns towards you.

"Is that so?" he says, voice a bit lower, gravelly. You inhale, then nod. 

He takes out a stack of black papers from a folder in his messenger bag, you take the chance to change the subject.

"What's that?" you ask, trying to peek over the the wall of black posters.

"The posters for the Halloween party next week. My friend Nancy just designed and printed them out for me. I scheduled you on Friday to come in and help with decorating, I'll pay you extra, since it's not in your job description. I'll talk to Jim about it" it's a lie, he just wants to spend more time with you.

"Am I required to come to this thing?" you interject, taking one of the posters in your hands, it's very well designed.

"Well, no. But the staff is invited anyway and I'm gonna be at the bar making free drinks, once a year we turn our bad boy coffee bar into a, y'know bar bar" he says, a movement of his ringed hand follows it.

"Oh, so you're a bartender too? What concoction are you gonna brew for this party, Mr. Alchemist?" you ask, chin propped on your hands. A flirtatious lilt to the way you talk, you bat your eyelashes.

"Guess you gotta come to find out" he winks and stands up, opening the side door to his van.

"Where are you going?" you ask, squinting to look at his face, the sun in your eyes.

"These posters aren't gonna hang themselves around town, are they? I just came here to hang one on the bulletin board and one on the door. Wanna come?"

You're not sure how to feel. He's suddenly being nice to you? And you wanna say yes so badly for some reason, maybe because you're tired of fighting with him and he seems like an actually cool person to be around?

"My shift starts in five minutes" you say, standing up and dusting off your butt.

He shrugs his shoulders "Consider this your shift? You're still technically helping me with the cafe" his tone is bordering a whine, can this man be that desperate to want you to come with him?

You really are pondering your options, it doesn't feel normal that you'd want to go with him instead of a chill shift without Eddie Munson's hovering eyes.

"You coming or not? And the pun was intended" he chuckles to himself as you hit him in the arm.

"You're an asshole" Alright, fuck it.

"You win" you grumble, jumping on the passenger seat of his van. The same van you were in the night before, cursing the man because he had left you unsatisfied.

In the back of the van there are stacks of boxes full of prints. You reach for the black poster he was holding earlier.

"What's 'Corroded Coffin'?"

"The band I'm in" he says, a creeping smile on his lips. Nonchalant, like he hadn't dropped a heavy piece of Eddie lore.

"'Kay so, you're a barista, a bartender, a business owner and you're in a band?!" eyes wide in disbelief as a smug expression appears on the boy's lips.

"The four b's, baby" he laughs "Me, Jeff, Gareth and another dude have been in this band since high school, tried to strike out but uhhhh different plans I guess" his shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.

"Lemme guess, you're the drummer?" you ask, finding yourself oddly at ease as he drives the car around town.

He shakes his head, his ratty curls moving around his face "Lead guitar and singer" lips pulled taut in a thin smile, face scrunched up.

"Shut the fuck up, I hate you! That's why you're so fucking slappable" he laughs at your comment as he thrums his ringed fingers along with Love me like a Reptile on the steering wheel. You gulp.

"That's why you're so good with your fingers, then?" it escapes you before you can even register what your brain is computing, but he's turning on his indicators to pull over, because he's quite literally doubled over with laughter.

"Jesus I did a number on you, didn't I sweetheart?" he says in the midst of his fit, and you can feel yourself getting hot, embarrassed, like he's making fun of you.

You really thought that things between you two had smoothed over, but the way he's laughing at you has your cheeks growing in anger, the cockiness exuding from him doesn't spur you on or stoke whatever fire you're kindling, rather it makes you feel humiliated.

You grab your bag and coat, immediately opening the latch to the door of his van. Eddie stops laughing immediately.

"Wait, what are you doing?" he asks, head jerking towards you.

“If you’re gonna be an asshole about it, then you can hang your fucking posters by yourself. I’m going back to the store to do what I am actually paid for. Fuck you, Eddie” and he barely has time to reply before you slam the door of his van and you book it back towards the cafe.

The shift feels uneventful, until Colette and Steve take you to the kitchen to sample the menu for the party.

The boy fixes the glasses on his nose as he shows you strawberry brain jellies, spider falafels, mini spiderweb pizzas, and the sketch of a big Halloween cake.

“That was Steve’s idea, actually. It’s blueberry and cream cheese filling on one tier and then I think custard on the second one. You’re gonna die, Steve’s custard is actually to die for” and he blushes at that, a quick brush of his face as his eyes twinkle at the compliment.

Steve and Colette have been spending a lot of time together after all, you chuckle to yourself as you reach for the spoons with the cream filling samples. Colette was not wrong, that custard is an incredible explosion of lemon and milk and vanilla, you're astounded that Steve and Colette were able to pull this off in such a short time.

There isn't much you can tell them, as their culinary talent greatly exceeds yours, wondering why they didn't ask Eddie to do the tasting, who seemed nowhere to be found for the rest of your shift.

On Friday, he seems to be quite busy with various movers and decoration people to even pay attention to you as Jeff stands on a ladder with you yelling "higher!" every time he tries to hang a string of lights.

"Well, I'm a barista, not a fucking architect" he yells from atop of the ladder, as Gareth rolls out a bunch of boxes sitting in a cart.

"What's that?" you ask, still making Jeff mess with the purple string lights “to the right, man!”

You hear him groan.

"Our twelve- foot skeleton" he replies, taking the plastic parts out "good thing our ceilings are tall" he snickers as Jeff finishes setting up the lights and comes down.

"Why the fuck do you have a twelve- foot skeleton?" you lean against the ladder, watching him take the bone parts out of the boxes and setting up the first few bits.

"Eddie thought it would be hilarious if we got one our first year of doing these Halloween parties. We usually get the skeleton something stupid to wear, this year it's a giant clown nose" he laughs as you move the ladder towards him to help facilitate the building of this fucking monster of a decoration.

By the time night rolls, the coffee machines have been removed for the party and replaced with liquors, spirits, glasses and shakers.

Finally Eddie comes out of his office, hair mussed out of his messy bun, eyes puffy and tired as his eyes widen at the decorated party room around him. 

Red, orange and purple lights hang around the perimeter of the walls, along with orange tulle fabric and various decorations on the theme of bats, skeletons and pumpkins. The twelve- foot skeleton stood tall in that stupid clown nose, at which he laughed at. He shot you a pained look before leaning on the bar counter. 

“Wow you guys, you’ve really outdone yourselves this year” he mutters, taking a close look around at all the decorations. 

“It was the girls, really, they’ve just been bossing us around the whole day” Gareth responds “we’ve just been their lackeys” he laughs. 

“Regardless of that, I just wanted to thank you all for the splendid job, we should be expecting around 150 people in here tomorrow night, hope you guys are ready to party. Now get the fuck out of here” Eddie says as he motions for you and everyone else to leave as the guys protest “go get some rest, it’s literally midnight”

There’s a clamor of voices as you vacate the cafe, discussing costumes for the party, how fucked up everyone’s gonna get- Eddie being the last to leave and lock the door. 

Before heading to his van, though he surpasses you, walking to your car. 

“I trust you’ll be there tomorrow? You must be fun at parties, right?” he snickers, you roll your eyes. 

“Sorry, Ed, previous engagement I have to attend to. Devastated to be missing the party of the decade, I’ll send a postcard” you unabashedly lie, there’s no reason you should be going to that party.

You give him a sour smile and head towards your car, as he stands stunned in the middle of the parking lot.

Without much ceremonies, you and Colette get in the car. 

“Are you actually not going tomorrow?” your friend is outraged, a betrayed tone tinging her words. 

“I dunno, I really don’t wanna see Eddie’s stupid face, plus I don’t have a costume” you shrug, entering the freeway. 

You could do what you’ve always done since college- a sexy cat, make Eddie sizzle a bit, an unspoken revenge towards that unsatisfactory night where he refused to push you off the edge. 

You don’t know what this is, whatever game you both are playing, a never ending tug of war of power and stupid fucking remarks at the expense of one another- why can’t you just sleep with him and get it over with? 

“I’ll get you a fucking costume, babe! Just please come, Steve is being really weird to me and trying to ask me out, I’ll buy you lunch, dinner- anything” she begs, and you don’t see why Steve asking her out should be an issue, he’s handsome and the way he looks at her and the way she talks about him seems to be special, something you’ve never had in a person. 

“Colette, I honestly do not see the problem in Steve trying to ask you out. You like him!” you bang your hands on the steering wheel in frustration, why can’t anything ever be easy?

“I like him in the sense that I want to fuck him, not go out with him. Besides, Gin isn’t going and Chrissy has a midterm Monday so she’s gonna have to dip early. Do you really wanna leave me in the middle of a pool of nerdy men?” she’s whining and pleading with you, it almost makes you fold. Almost. 

“C’mon, I wouldn’t dream of doing that to you” she bats her big eyes, and she’s right, she wouldn’t do that to you because she knows that men put you off, being surrounded by them even so. 

“Alright, fine, and you don’t have to get me a costume. Sexy cat is the way to go” you grin at her as she gets out of the car blowing you a kiss. 

“I love love love you, I’ll see you tomorrow” Colette runs inside after that. 

You can’t say no to her. 

And that’s why you find yourself in the midst of countless amounts of people, a third martini and a couple shots in and Colette is nowhere to be found. 

Eddie, on the other hand, is at the bar. Tight, black, form fitting shirt, his face looking pale and pasty as a rivulet of what looked like fake blood dripped out of his mouth. You could only see it when he smiled, but he had glued fake fangs on his incisors- a vampire, how original. 

You approach him at the bar, mind already loosened and buzzed, as he’s pouring a drink out. 

“Was expecting something more original than a vampire from you” you scream over the music. A smile creeps on his lips, and you have to admit, the fangs are really doing it for you. 

“I was expecting nothing less from you, though.Thought you weren’t coming?” he leans against the bar counter, his arms flexing from the exertion of shaking drinks for the past hour and a half. You stare, and he’s sure you are.

“Didn’t wanna come, Colette begged me to save her from Steve asking her out, so now I’m here” you take one last swig out of your martini glass “that’s really good, actually, can I have another one?”

Eddie shakes his head “Steve’s asking Colette out? When was this?”

You shrug “apparently it’s been going on for a while. Honestly, I don’t know how she does it, I would not be able to resist Steve’s cute little puppy eyes” and here it is. The drunken ramble. 

“Honestly I don’t know how you all do it, I’d be ogling at Steve and not getting any work done, actually. Have you seen his arms?” you giggle, maybe at an attempt to make Eddie jealous, maybe because those were your actual thoughts. 

Either way, that made Eddie’s stomach turn in a way that he wasn’t liking. How you were staring at Steve, in his Marty McFly costume, the tight pants and the coiffed hair- biting your lip like you weren’t talking about his best friend.

He chalked it up to drunkenness, the intoxication vivid on your blushy cheeks, as jealousy bubbled in the back of his mind, a small version of himself in his head wishing you’d talk about him like that. 

“Yeah, I’m not making you any more martinis” he says, a dry chuckle escaping him. 

“Boo, first you don’t make me cum and then you take the martinis away from me? You’re an absolute bore, Eddie Munson” and you fake yawn with that, a silly laugh follows it. 

“Sweetheart, you might not want to talk about that in a room full of people” he leans against the counter, and his fangs are looking really good in the glistening purple party lights.

“Are you suggesting we go somewhere private to talk about it?” you wiggle your eyebrows, which makes Eddie’s eyes roll. 

Taking care of your drunk self for the rest of the night is the last thing he wants to do. 

“No, I’m suggesting you go home. You’re drunk” he yells, shaking another drink and pouring it into a cup.

“I’m actually fine, thank you. I’m gonna go talk to Steve” pettily you stand up, turning away from him and booking it towards Steve, who is trying to talk to Colette. 

You don’t make it far, though as you go back to the bar wobbling, stomach churning with bile threatening to leave your mouth. 

“Eddie, I don’t feel so good” and he damns himself for how fast he comes around the bar to drag you to the employee bathroom. 

You’re kneeled on the black tile, dress hiking up your thighs as Eddie holds your hair as you fight for your life bent over the toilet. 

Eddie’s hand is running up and down your spine, the thin shirt making you feel every ridge and callus, as he feels your back flex and relax with every retch.

“It’s okay, let it out” he says, every time you tense up. You’re sobbing in between. 

Cries of “I’m sorry, Eddie” and “It’s okay, I got it, you can go” echo in the tiled room, but he stays. His hand firmly planted on your back, caressing, a stoic expression on his face when you emerge, finally done and a bit more clear- headed. 

“You good to stand up?” he asks, you nod meekly as he hooks his arms around yours, holding you up to walk to the sink. He opens the cabinet and takes out a little bottle of mouthwash, still holding an arm around you to help you stand. 

“Wash your mouth, then take some of this” you watch him bewildered as he opens the faucet, and you lean over the sink, the fresh water is a relief against the acidity your taste buds have had to endure, not caring that it would wipe some of your makeup off. 

“‘M sorry, Eddie” you mumble in a whine, between gurgling the tap water and spitting it out. 

“It’s okay, I’ll drive you home after this” he says, as he turns off the faucet and feeds you the blue liquid, watching you rinse and gargle it, spitting it out. 

“I’m okay now” you sigh, defeat in your voice as you escape from his grasp to sit down on the tiled floor. 

Concern tinges his face as he runs to sit next to you “Do you have to throw up again?” you shake your head. 

He looks at you, eyes glossy and a bit teary, your nose and cheeks reddened from the alcohol, or from the exertion of throwing up, your lips swollen. God, he really wants to kiss you. 

“Thank you, Eddie” it’s a whisper, ashamed as you look at him. Fangs and all, with the bright white fluorescents hitting him, hair mussed up and sweaty and a look in his eyes that makes you soften a bit. 

“Yeah, it’s- uh- no problem” he mumbles, he sees you shiver. He wants to put an arm around you, give you his jacket that he left in his office, but he wouldn’t dare leave you for fear of you leaving him and not coming back. 

So you just hold yourself flush against him, he’s still warm from the crowded room of bodies and smells like a smoky cologne, leathery with a hint of coffee. The fluorescent lights buzz and it’s the only sound in the bathroom and he tries to fight the urge to not put an arm around you, but when he does, you look at him. Big brown eyes staring into yours, bewildered and a little relieved, you haven’t run away yet. 

The makeup around your eyes is a bit smudged from the sobbing, stray glitter under your bottom eyelashes, he silently puts his thumb on it, getting black make-up and glitter all over his finger as his hand rests on your cheek. You blink. 

The breath in his chest is trapped, waiting with bated breath for you to come to your senses, leave him angry on the bathroom floor, like you did a few days before. 

Instead you stay, as you move in and kiss him.

taglist: @reidsbtch, @vintagehellfire, @fckyeahlames, @lavendermunson, @sunnythefriendlyghost, @onegirlmanytales, @aphrogeneias, @cryingglightningg, @munsonsuccubus, @strangereads, @gothvamp1973, @boomitsallie1, @thottywizard, @ali-r3n, @reysorigins, @yunirgo, @stqrgirl3, @neville-is-my-husband, @keikoraven, @minorlystuck13, @seexyyprincess, @sunnythespookyghost, @capricornrisingsstuff, @mandyjo8719, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @hellfirenacht, @str4ngergirlw0rld, @strangerstilinski,

[floweringlamb]

Doctor that administers my T but knows how to break girls like me- whenever he’s with me he tells me all about my female body, no matter how much I insist I’m a boy. Whenever I ask him to up my dose, he orders me to let him see me nude, assuring me that he’d tell everyone that I was trans if I refused. I should’ve just gotten a new doctor, left, done something, but every time I obliged.

He traces along my breasts, telling me how they’re specially designed to produce milk, how when I was impregnated my nipples would go dark to signify the start of production. I tell him that I’d remove them one day, and he shakes his head.

He grabs my hips, pulling me into him, explaining how they are wider than a biological males because they are made to support the weight of a baby. I whimper at the thought of being pregnant, doing the thing that biological males cannot do, revealing to everyone that I was not one.

He presses his lips to mine, caressing my chin, whispering to me about how I have a completely different bone structure from a male like him, and my wide eyes and plump lips were obvious markers of being a female. It was silly of me to think anyone would think I was a boy, everyone already knew I was a fertile female made for cock.

I began to cry as he pulled my legs open, fingers dancing along my folds, him able to tell me the name of each part- instantly able to find my clit and beginning to rub it, making my attempts to push him off begin to fade as my body trembled with pleasure.

He finally pulled out his hardened cock, and gently pressed it into my tight cunt, shushing my pleading as he reminded me of how this is exactly what my body was designed to do. He slowly but rhythmically thrusted, groaning that he was soon going to pump me full of his seed, going to make me finally fulfill my purpose as a female. I sobbed for him to pull out, that if I got pregnant that I would have to go off T, but he just smiled calmly and grabbed into my round hips as he cummed deep inside. I orgasmed and moaned as he did, and he smirked.

He pressed his finger to my hole to keep his cum from leaking out. I looked at him in disbelief, trying to deny what he did. He had probably used some sort of protection right? Maybe my T would protect me?

He knew what I was thinking, and simply says that he will do this every session, until I either admit I’m really a girl or I’m knocked up with his baby. And if I admitted that, he would immediately take me off T and recommend to any other doctors to never let me transition. On the other hand, if I became pregnant for him, he would treat me well and use me as a new study for converting trans boys back into women. I stared in horror, knowing I might not have been impregnated this time, but since I would never admit that I wasn’t a boy he would eventually successfully breed me… and then I would be used as an example of being turned back into a girl…

I convinced myself that both were horrible options, both forced me to detransition. But deep in my mind? I knew what I wanted. So I kept returning. And soon a bump appeared.

[chrispleasure]

BACKGROUND INFO ABOUT DAD!MATT AU !!

warnings: mentions anxiety, mental health

one. you and matt were both 20 when you gave birth to milo, who is five. and you both were 23 when you gave birth to maggie.

two. milo inherited his anxious behaviour from his father, and his clingyness. where-as maggie inherited her beauty and sensitivity from you.

three. the family lives in la with a house not too far from matt’s brothers houses, but travel to boston pretty often for holidays and to overall see family.

four. the house is pretty chaotic at times. for example maggie crying cause her food isnt made in the right way, milo wailing because the internet cut out so he couldn’t watch his show, matt stuck in the bathroom dropping a bomb and you stressing out trying to attend to two people’s needs at once.

five. the house only has one proper bathroom with all the essentials ( bathtub, shower, toilet sink ) but theres a tiny bathroom in the master bedroom with only a toilet. so everyones always getting walked in on, mostly matt.

. maggie stumbles into the bathroom after being told it was bathtime by you. “daddy? wheres your clothes at?” maggie waddles over to him, gazing up at his eyes. “sweetheart, can daddy have some privacy to put on some clothes?” matt asks, covering his lower half with the towel. she nods and leaves.

six. the family has a van with a sliding door. two seats beside each sliding door, a small walk way leading to two over seats just incase friends come in the car.

seven. the car is always filled with something, either milo’s toy cars or maggies empty bottles, droplets of milk leaking from the suckle. pacifiers laying around on the floor.

eight. with matt struggling with anxiety, having a mini him following him around always helps relieve his anxiety, meaning he isnt alone. so he always makes sure to bring maggie or milo on a drive with him.

nine. despite having two kids who do not shut down till seven, he always makes time for you or even acknowledges you. whether he is putting maggie into the car, he would give your hip a quick squeeze or once the kids go to bed, matt practically runs to bed to have his daily dose of cuddles.

ten. both you and matt arent fond of sleepovers, having more grubby little children over can be a handful, so they try to avoid sleepovers as much as they can.

taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re @matthewsroses

[madame-mortician]

Phone Guy is the one saying “It’s Me.”

So I’m gonna preface this by saying, this is just a theory/headcanon, so if you disagree with me that’s fine. Nothing in FNAF is 100% canon anyways so it��s okay to have your own personal interpretations, this is just mine.

Also spoilers for FNAF: The Week Before.

In FNAF 1, there’s a well-known Easter Egg of random instances of “It’s Me” being seen across the game.

It’s still, to this day, unknown what this means with there being many theories to discuss it. The most popular I’ve seen is the one where it’s the Crying Child trying to communicate to Michael (the night guard) that it’s him, but since he’s possessing Golden Freddy he can only communicate in this way. This theory is fine, I don’t dislike it or anything, and it does make sense considering that sometimes “IT’S ME” will appear alongside the Golden Freddy Easter Egg, so there is some evidence to support this theory, I just want to discuss my personal theory.

So first up, the entire reason I got this theory was because of the new FNAF book, which if you didn’t know, it’s a prequel that takes place the week before FNAF 1, where you play as Ralph, a.k.a Phone Guy. Now the book isn’t officially out yet, but it did get leaked, and one of the leaked pages is the official canon ending. In this ending, he records his final phone call for Mike before dying and being stuffed into one of the empty suits. He “wakes up” but realises he cannot move or do anything, and that he is dead, and he thinks to himself “It’s me” when realising what that corpse-like smell is.

From this we can tell a few things. First up, it is canon that Phone Guy was stuffed into one of the suits, which we figured but now we have confirmation. Secondly, he isn’t just dead, he’s actually still conscious and haunting the area, he just cannot move and can only wait. He can still sense things since he can smell his own corpse, and he can see the backstage area, so he is fully conscious.

Now the “It’s Me” thing here isn’t entirely the same, as here it’s him realising what that foul odour is, instead of, y’know, trying to communicate with the night guard, but it is still notable since this is FNAF after all.

Anyways here’s the main part of my theory, since we know Phone Guy is definitely still back there and unable to move at all, there’s no way he can try and get help, so he’s just sitting back there, waiting. We get to the next week and Mike starts the night shift, hearing none other than the phone calls Phone Guy had left behind for him. Whether he hears these calls or just knows that his shift has started, he’d realise this is his only way of getting help. Sure he left a message asking Mike to check backstage, but whether or not he’ll actually do that isn’t clear. He can’t get up and physically go up to Mike, so what can he do?

In FNAF, it’s clearly canon that ghosts can change what people see, albeit in small doses. The posters can change to newspapers about the missing children, the paper pals disappear and seem to teleport, Golden Freddy and an oddly positioned Freddy can appear on posters, these are all clearly things that they’re doing with “ghost powers” or whatever, since there’s no way Chica is getting up and sticking newspapers to walls. Now although Phone Guy isn’t technically possessing anything, he’s still a ghost, so he too would have these ghost abilities, and would be able to do small changes in the scenery. What can he do though? Write out a whole message saying he’s stuck in the backstage and needs help? He’s probably not super powerful as a ghost, he can’t even move, so he needs something short and sweet to get the guards attention. So what does he say?

Now you might be wondering why he would say this, but I think not only is it short and easy to spot on those shitty cameras, but it would actual relate to the left behind phone calls. Think of it this way, we don’t get an actual canon time where the “It’s Me” stuff happens, obviously it must happen in canon we just don’t know when since it’s random in each playthrough. Now for most of the nights, what’s going on, ignoring the robot murder stuff? The phone calls.

His only way of alerting Mike and getting any help would be to use his ghost powers to send a short message, either on the cameras or on his face (?) and I believe it’s him trying to say “It’s me, I’m the guy on the phone talking to you.” How successful this ends up being is unknown, but it’s very likely Mike had no fucking clue what “It’s Me” meant and mainly ignored it until Night 4 where he literally hears Phone Guy’s death. Perhaps then the “It’s Me” stuff would make sense.

Another thing is what you see when you get the in your face “It’s Me” stuff.

We see an up close shot of Bonnie and Freddy, Freddy noticeably has bloodshot human eyes. Now we know it’s canon that if you die in FNAF, your corpse is stuffed into the spare Freddy suit backstage, and it’s likely Phone Guy was also stuffed into a Freddy suit. So here’s the thing, I believe this would’ve been his last moments, kinda flashing in our face. An animatronic all up in his face (jumpscare) and then the Freddy suit he was stuffed in, with this human eyes. He’s trying desperately to show Mike what happened to him, but it’s hard and obviously doesn’t explain much.

Whether or not Mike actually searched the backroom and found his corpse, it’s unknown but I feel like he wouldn’t just leave him there.

Of course there is one major thing that doesn’t make much sense in this theory… If the “It’s Me” message is Phone Guy, why does it sometimes play before Golden Freddy appears? The only thing I can think of is it just being a coincidence but that’s lame so I’m gonna admit defeat with this one part unless you guys have any theories.

TL;DR: Phone Guy is the one saying “It’s Me” throughout FNAF 1, because he is trying to tell the player that it’s him on the phone, and that he needs help, he just doesn’t couldn’t make it more specific due to his situation.

[galadrieljones]

Zabel Interview, Team Delusional Round-up, re: the past few weeks (months?) 💫

(Based on an ask from @natural-blue-26! This post contains spoilers, pertaining to the script leak. If you don't want them, turn back!!)

First, let me say that @twdmusicboxmystery has posted an excellent video covering this topic over at her youtube channel. This post is jumping off of that, with some additional takes and analysis by me!

Also, note that I wanted to wait to post or to talk about this too much publicly until today, as I think there are a lot of genuine shippers who might be let down right now. Not all c*rylers are unhappy, unruly people. Many are shippers just like us, and even though I don't ship it, I support them. I am only putting this in the Team Delusional tag, so anyone who sees this is seeing it either because they follow me, follow the tag, follow someone who follows me, or they went looking for it themselves. I am not making drama or inciting a "ship war." If you're here out of anger, I suggest you turn back. I am just going to go over what I see.

The Facts

There has been a recent spate of events that have lead Team Delusional to a rare and more than modest resurgence. Until now, we were mostly just working with templates and symbolism, with a healthy dose of informed meta and speculation: We were seeing how the season 4/5 template was beginning to unfold toward the Grady arc, which includes Carol in a major role.

BUT. Let's check in with what's been going on over the past six months. A lot of this new resurgence starts with Emily's multiple trips to Europe for TWD cons in the past six months, integrated with her (yet unrealized) insinuation that she has been in studio recording one or more songs that Beth sang on TWD. Massive financial burdens aside, these are unusual undertakings for Emily. While she has done many fan cons over the years, visiting Europe twice in a four month period is bizarre (as well as expensive). She also talked openly and excitedly in the panel at French comic-con about how cool it would be if Beth returned. Further, Emily's "re-recording" of "Parting Glass" and possibly other TWD songs was a fairly big announcement for us at the time, but we haven't seen any more on it since. Speculation went everywhere from "She'll be singing in a flashback in Daryl Dixon season 2" to "Her songs will be part of the soundtrack" to "She'll actually BE in season 2, singing, in the present moment."

A lot of these things, if they were spread out over a 5 year period, wouldn't matter at all. But the fact that they're all taking place in the six-month run-up to Daryl Dixon s. 2, when we've already been able to speculate her tenuous return based on templates and other tells, is exciting. It's been almost ten years to the day of Beth's *death.* Why now? The timing on all of this is very suspicious.

Now, a few weeks ago, there was a LEAKED SCRIPT excerpt, which was claimed to be the final scene of DD 2.6. In the script, we learn that Isabelle has died and is appearing to Daryl in the form of a hallucination while he fights walkers in the Chunnel. This was confusing for many reasons. First, we already know, given their ruthless advertisement of the fact, that season 3 is already being filmed in Spain. So why are they headed to England? Also, where the hell is Laurent? Further, Isabelle's death, while unsurprising to many of us, creates some new questions. Many members of a certain *other* ship were ecstatic to learn about Isabelle's death, as Daryl/Isabelle ship rumors have been rampant in the fandom basically since season 1. Forget the fact that the same ship FREAKED out over Daryl/Leah three years ago (a clear nothingburger). Any time another female character even comes into contact with Daryl, a notable portion of fans must make their "displeasure" widely known.

Moving on. Yesterday, an article came out summarizing a yet-unreleased interview with David Zabel in SFX magazine. You can read it here. In the interview, Zabel makes the following comment about "C*ryl":

"The obvious thing to do, and the easier thing to do would be, 'Okay, now they're falling in love and they're a couple.' But I always felt like that would be a mistake, because it would feel like you were going into the TV book of tricks," he explains. "To me, there was never a question that [their connection] was something other than what it is, and what it seems to want to be, and why it works so well."

Zabel then goes on to hint at a highly-contentious romance with Daryl and Isabelle:

"What happened in season one was that you could see a connection forming, for sure," he says. "We didn't manufacture that but we left room for it. A lot of season two is about the development of that and where that relationship goes, and that little surrogate family of Isabelle, Daryl and Laurent."

Now, the full interview doesn't come out until September 4, at which point, we may get a clearer picture of what's going on. However, it seems that Zabel is politely declining the "C*ryl as romance" narrative. In the quote, he uses the excuse of wanting to avoid TV tropes; however, he then goes on to say (in a portion of the quote that is being wildly misinterpreted among the c*ryl ship) that "To [him]," there was "never a question that [their connection was something other than what it is." He then equates "what it is" with "what it seems to want to be" and "why it works so well." The misinterpretation is coming with that second part. "What it is" = friendship. Zabel is clearly saying that c*ryl "seems to want to be" exactly "what it is," aka: a sacred friendship and nothing more. He's basically saying that this already "works so well," and so why fix what ain't broke? Why create a romance between two characters who are clearly just very, very good friends when he could go another, more interesting direction?

Certain c*ryl accounts have misinterpreted that section of the quote. They seem to think he's saying that the c*ryl ship "seems to want to be" something else, something other than what it is. But if you follow the grammatical logic of the sentence, you can see that they're wrong here. It wants to be what it already is, which is friendship. Of course, to c*rylers, what it already is = romance, but that isn't canon. There's no proof of this. In fact, there's more proof to the contrary, that they're best friends. They're family. Carol was married to somebody else, raised a child with him, still holds a contentious relationship with the other man, allowed Daryl to toil away in the woods alone for five years because she needed to stay with her husband...

In addition to factual evidence from the show, the C*ryl Friendship Campaign has been going strong on social media for MONTHS. In her video this morning, twdmusicboxmystery also goes over quasi-recent comments from Angela Kang which are UNSUPPORTIVE of a c*ryl romance. The notion that this perspective is coming out of nowhere, which some fans are claiming as a way of blaming Zabel for either lying or betraying his fanbase (and the actors), is, frankly, absurd.

Please note that I'm not saying that nobody should ship c*ryl just because it isn't canon. That would be silly. I ship non-canon ships all the time. BETHYL is a non-canon ship! I've written whole fanfics for Beth and Daryl (well, I've tried lol, but most remain unfinished). It's one of the funnest parts of being in a fandom.

What I'm saying is that c*ryl is NOT CANON. It never has been. And the people who get angry about this, who want to get professionals fired over this, who think that they're entitled to getting exactly what they want, lest the show perish, are wrong. They're doing it wrong. It's totalitarian and, frankly, obsessive. This is not how you be in a fandom, and my interpretation here of the Zabel interview in conjunction with the C*ryl Friendship Campaign is that they are TRYING to let this highly volatile and frankly unpleasant faction of the fandom down lightly in an effort to get them off tptb's AND the actors' backs. They don't want to deal with this shit anymore. And by the way, they're actually not leading anyone on. They've been insanely clear here, in their rebranding of c*ryl to a platonic ship, as to what's happening and what's going on, and while I really do feel for the good people who may feel let down by this, I am GLAD to see that the showrunners aren't going to heed the demands of one tiny, loud faction of a giant fandom, and that despite the haters, they're going to tell the story they want to tell.

ANYWAY.

Over the past 48 hours, things have gotten...weird. Zabel's interview dropped less than a day after the TWD Skybound social media accounts appear to have...posted a Bethyl edit out of nowhere. @sweetz1919 also posted early this morning, bringing together a few more Beth-related posts on either official accounts or *near* official accounts, which post promotional material, and which are followed by AMC TWD. One of these posts is a repost on twitter by Scott Gimple, who so rarely posts on social media, that any time he does, it's like a unicorn, symbolically notable and certainly important.

Now, pertaining to the Zabel interview, another wide complaint taking place in the c*ryl camp is that Zabel is likely LYING or he is being taken grossly out of context, because if c*ryl isn't happening, AND Isabelle is going to die, then how could Daryl POSSIBLY get his happy ending?

THIS is where Team Delusional comes in. Of course, we have our theories. Most people think WE'RE the delusional ones. And maybe we are! Lol. I don't really care. Most of our theories are crafted through a TON of hard, circumstantial, pattern-driven, and symbolic evidence, evidence taken from IRL sources, and hypotheses made after paying very close attention to what's been going on and making LOTS and LOTS of connections over a period of many years. Me, myself, I've only been here for four, but some of you guys have been doing this for almost ten, and for that, I salute you! As I said earlier, TD has been theorizing Beth's "return" in DD2 based greatly on symbolic and template-driven evidence alone for a while. A lot of what we're seeing now on social media is playing directly into our hand.

Emily in Europe multiple times in a 4mo period, including a trip to Paris, with her latest stint being just a week before "official" filming for season 3 was set to begin? Emily re-recording tracks from TWD? Leaked script pages in which Daryl mentions Beth specifically AND suggest that Isabelle is going to die? Romantic!C*ryl = not happening? HOW could Daryl possibly get his happy ending now? The rest is TD theory, ie: WHY we think Beth will come back to manifest Daryl's "happy ending." Speculation and theories on how she could come back, the connection to Spain/England/France, that's basically all we talk about lol, each of us with our own interests and niche perspectives, all arriving at the same point.

SO while there is still no proof that she is coming back, all of this is a Good thing, actually. For us. Because while everyone is looking around, freaking out, wondering what's going to happen next, we are seeing and able to read a LOT of signs that others ignore. And rightly so! There's no reason the rest of the GA needs to think that Beth is legitimately coming back. That would overshadow Carol's role in season 2, which is significant. It's just important that the GA REMEMBERS who Beth IS, that she was important to Daryl, and that hey, people used to really like Beth, and they liked Beth and Daryl together, and that was hopeful, and nice for him, and he hasn't had much "hope" or "niceness" since, and wouldn't it be nice if he could have that again...? All of these things are really there to do just this: let the c*ryl ship down easy, and remind people that Daryl once held a very strong connection to a woman whose life "ended" too soon, and who has really never been mentioned again.

While I really have no idea what's coming next, I wonder if we'll begin to see more astroturfed discussion on Beth's *death.* How weird it was, what the hell was going on at Grady, etc. If we don't see it in promotional material, we may hear about it in-show. Because if Daryl is casually mentioning Beth (along with Merle and Glenn) to Isabelle's ghost/vision in episode 2.6, then this likely implies that he's told her about Beth before, and that he's talked to her about what happened. It implies that Isabelle knows who Beth is, which would be a truly insane development, since he's literally never talked about her to anyone, including Carol, as far as we know.

So anyway, as usual, we should all just keep our heads down, chins to our chest, keep hope alive, but with a balanced sense of anticipation. We still really don't know what's going to happen, so it's important to be rational, but it also won't hurt to have a little faith 💫

[certifiedsexed]

Is it normal for my body to make enough prolactin to have me leak a tiny tiny bit of that white milky stuff out one of my breasts if I'm a trans guy 2 testosterone doses in? (tri menstrual shots, intramuscular nebido)

Woke up and realized that was going on (it's giving me horrible dysphoria) it's happened to me before, but before I was taking T (I did ask a doctor back then, they said it was normal but sent me to take a mammal ultrasound anyway to rule off anything and I didn't go lol)

I'm just sort of like really worried my last shot didn't work properly? it didn't feel like the first one as it was going in (I didn't feel the greasy stuff at all, it just sort of hurt-burnt like when you get a scratch) and I had a very very tiny pimple-like bump on the injection zone for like 2 weeks. I figured I'd convince myself it was alright since it did change my urine smell immediately like the first time and my period flow went down a lot; but now this happened and I'm second guessing myself like Maybe I haven't really had changes since the first dose! and stuff like that.

That'd really fucking suck if it didn't work because holy shit nebido is EXPENSIVE

Btw no chance I'm pregnant, I'm gay t4t

That's not really supposed to happen, not just because you're on testosterone. Your breasts really aren't supposed to be leaking milk period unless you're pregnant/breastfeeding.

Taking T doesn't make much of a difference, it's something that can occur regardless of that so I really don't think its because your testosterone isn't working. If this is the only reason you're worried about your testosterone, I'd rest easy.

[Though you can mention the bump on the injection zone to your doctor and ask if that's a concern! Always good to check.]

Your testosterone aside, you might want to talk to a doctor and actually do some testing for your breasts leaking if you can afford it.

Often, galactorrhea [A condition where your breasts leak milk/milk-like liquid] is a hormone issue (though not with testosterone) and it can be treated.

It can be caused by a lot of things, like a benign tumor, antidepressants, birth control pills, or even just touching your breasts excessively and it's usually a good idea to at least know what's causing it (especially since it's giving you dysphoria!) even if you don't plan on getting treated.

Hope this helps! Let me know if you have any other questions. <3