#but it's been interesting to learn over the years that it's the opposite for me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eightstarr · 1 month ago

Text

at the count of three — ellie williams.

summary: how do you tell your best friend you’re in love with them? ellie has an answer! just be cool and wait for the right moment— and the next. and maybe another one, just to be sure. if you get impatient, you can always take a deep breath and count to three! (years, that is)

warnings: slow burn (childhood friends to lovers <3), little bit suggestive but no smut!

notes: born from a piece of dialogue i wrote like, a year ago and completely forgot about but somehow a week later it's 4k words? idk you're welcome or i'm sorry!!! also yes they do spend almost every scene sitting together on a couch but that's what lesbianism is all about...

don't support the last of us franchise.

daily click. learn about palestine. donate and share!

・。.・゜✧・. ────

ONE!

A movie plays on the TV, a slightly tarnished DVD of an 80’s action flick starring some oily guy and the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen— Ellie doesn't remember much other than an obnoxiously epic soundtrack and lingering shots that made the plot twist too obvious about 20 minutes in.

She's freshly eighteen; you’re ahead only by a couple months. It's a warm Friday night, Joel and your dad in the kitchen putting scraps together for a mildly healthy dinner, Ellie sitting on the very opposite side of the couch from where you are. It’s hot, she'd said, looking away from your comically insulted face that grew with every scooch she made from your side, a lame excuse to save her from the newly found (and fucking torturous) fluttering that sparks in her stomach whenever she sits too close to you.

From the kitchen comes the sound of a can hitting the floor, followed by Joel’s 'shit!' and then quickly, 'sorry, girls'. You chuckle, turning to Ellie and catching her staring at you. A wrinkle forms between your eyebrows at the same time a pink warmth floods her cheeks. “Dude, you’re not even paying attention.”

“I am,” a scoff, her eyes now strictly committed to the screen. “The noise distracted me,” she adds, knowing it didn't even make her flinch from the careful study of your side profile.

“Scaredy cat— ow!” a pillow crashes against your cheek, sudden enough to shock you, too soft to do any real damage. “What the fuck?”

Ellie raises her eyebrows and looks at you from the corner of her eyes, a smirk half hidden by her hand. “Don’t be rude, you're missing the best scene.”

You throw the pillow back and scoff when she catches it, your lips slightly pursed, the signature sign to tell you’re annoyed. It's almost identical to the replica of that gesture that sits at the end of her last journal entry, an overly dedicated sketch born from a wandering thought. She could make it more accurate, she thinks now, soften the line of your jaw, take the scar on your cheek a little more to the left.

The sound of water splashing from the TV catches her attention and Ellie snaps her head forward (lest she get caught staring again), just as the blonde haired love interest is walking out of a fancy looking swimming pool.

“She’s hot,” you say, fingers pulling absentmindedly at loose threads on the rip of your jeans. When Ellie doesn't say anything, you turn to look at her, “You don't think so?”

Her voice comes out a higher pitch than she’d like. “What—” she clears her throat before continuing to mumble, “I don't know, I guess.”

You laugh. “You guess?”

“Yeah, I— I don't know, dude, I wasn't thinking about that.”

You watch the nervousness on her face, the gulp that passes her throat, the red under her freckles. Fondness tugs at your chest and your voice softens just slightly, a smile playing on your lips. “Oh my God. Ellie, it’s okay,” green eyes find your face and she sees you hesitate for a second before you shrug. “Who cares? It's just me.”

You make it sound easy. It's the most distinct thing Ellie remembers about this moment, how suddenly safety felt like the most obvious thing. TV light on your face, your arm over the back of the couch, the same eyes she's been looking at since she was fourteen. Of course it's okay. Everything else with you is easy, why wouldn't this be the same?

Ellie shifts on the couch, the distance between you turning quickly ridiculous— offensive, even. She’s embarrassed to have let her flusteredness get in the way, but the urge to be closer doesn't feel right either. Everything she does feels like too much, everything she says too intense. “How long have you known?” she asks.

You tilt your head, less of a question and more of a guidance, “Known that you…”

Ellie parts her lips, unsure of whether or not she’s gonna say it or how, trying to will the words to come out. And they do, she remembers it well, because it was the first and maybe the only time she was this direct about it. “That I like girls.”

The smile on your face is teeth-rotting sweet, but she only gets to bask in it for a second before you widen your eyes and lower your voice to a scandalized whisper. “You what?”

Ellie rolls her eyes, cheeks burning, “Oh, fuck you.”

Your laugh fills up the room and the fluttering in her stomach feels absurd at this point, like she would actually be able to feel those annoying little butterflies flying around if she were to press her hand against her abdomen. “Sorry, sorry,” you say, and for a terrifying second Ellie thinks maybe they're loud too, and you’re able to hear them. But then she looks at you and forgets about it, easy easy easy. “It’s really okay. You know that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says. For once, there's not a glimpse of doubt about it to be found.

You watch another ten minutes of the movie in silence before your dad's head peeks out from the kitchen to call you both to the table for dinner.

Ellie has a habit of eating like it's her last day on earth. When you were both new residents of Jackson, hungry and scared and not at all used to the idea of a full plate of food twice a day, she couldn't help it. And you were the same, hence why your dad thought it would be good for you and Ellie to spend time together, which quickly turned to being around each other basically every minute of every day. But as the weeks passed, you seemed to be learning to adapt faster. A younger Ellie found this frustrating— especially after that time Joel complimented your table manners.

You’re just… nicer, she remembers saying, a stressed frown on her still childlike face, fiddling with a box of marbles she’d found under her new bed. She remembers how you pulled one out, your fingers brushing against her own for the first time ever, and held the clear crystal with green stripes next to her eyes, a satisfied smile at a practically perfect match. You’re nice too, Els, you’d said, shrugging your shoulders, the marble shoved inside your pocket, I think I just lie better.

Until that moment, Ellie had never thought about it that way; the fact that you could be pretending to feel more confident and comfortable than you really are to make yourself safer, to get people to like you. But when she asked, you swore you had never lied to Ellie. She used to drive herself mad thinking about that, a strange, confusing worry gnawing at her chest— she likes that you don't feel the need to lie, but what does it say about how you see her? Is it that you don't care if she likes you? Or worse, is it that you know that she already does?

You sit in front of her today at the same dinner table, four years later, and watch her practically inhale her bowl of pasta like no time has passed at all. You let out a snort and Ellie wonders if you can see it even now, if her constant thoughts of you are obvious even when she looks this busy.

"What?" she asks, an immediate frown on her face, though she's done you the honor of swallowing her mouthful before speaking.

"You're so gross," you say, chin resting on your palm, tilting your head like you're looking at some thought provoking art piece. Ellie thinks you'll leave it at that, but then you reach over and swipe your thumb over the red spot of sauce next to the corner of her lips, so soft she barely feels it. You watch her frown soften for a second before it becomes even deeper.

Ellie feels like her whole body is exploding with warmth, too hot under the hoodie she's wearing, too pink across her face. It's so obvious, she thinks, it's so— fuck, pull it together. Her gaze follows your finger as you bring it to your lips and lick off the sauce. “You’re disgusting,” she retorts lamely, her hand rough when she brushes it over her mouth, lest you notice another stain and she has to watch you do that again.

You are familiarly not deterred by her meanness. Or her attempt at it. "And you eat like a five year old,” you shrug. “I guess we both have our issues."

Ellie catches herself staring at your hands for the rest of the meal, certain that she's never noticed them in the same way before. How much time has she been wasting? You both have your issues, you'd said, but Ellie thinks she has you beat. Yours can't possibly be anywhere near this dangerous.

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

TWO!

Someone's knocking on her door. Ellie sniffles and lets out a groan as she gets up from the couch, sore throat, her limbs heavy and tired. She knows it's you because it's always the same three knocks; the first two firm and loud, a pause, and then one tiny one that sounds almost like 'sorry'. You’re impatient but still painfully afraid to be rude— if she loved you a little less, Ellie thinks she would make fun of it a lot more. But alas, she's cursed to smile at it every time.

She opens the door and the breeze that slips in makes her fall immediately into an embarrassing coughing fit. “It’s fine,” she mutters, at the same time you’re saying jesus christ, Ellie. “Shit. I’m okay,” she clears her throat and finally gets a moment to look at you, all pretty and put together in your best shirt and a freshly showered scent, the sun setting behind you like a perfect frame. Ellie prays her lungs don't betray her again and tries to make the brush of her hand over her messy hair look casual instead of desperate.

“Well, I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to the party with me for just a few minutes, but… I’m not sure you should be out of bed,” your worried frown is pretty, too. What a cruel fate. “Is Joel home? I can stay—”

“No, no, you’re good,” Ellie shakes her head, arms crossed over her chest like maybe it’ll cover up enough and you won't notice she was wearing the same long sleeve the last time you saw her. “He’ll be here in like, five minutes. I’ll be fine, ’m not a baby.”

You’re both nineteen by this time, Ellie remembers because you wore the same pretty blue shirt that you're wearing now for her birthday, and it was the day she realized her crush was no longer deniable. It's easier to act like nothing’s happening when she feels like she's alone in it, like there's no universe where you could love her like she loves you so she might as well let the fantasy die— but then you put on your shirt that's reserved for special occasions just to come over and bring her the cupcake you made, and suddenly Ellie can picture herself with her hands on each side of your waist, pulling you close, saying thank you with her lips brushing against yours before she kisses you. She can see it so clearly that it startles her, changes everything. Her birthday comes with a punch to the gut and a hunger she wants to tell you and only you about.

“You’re not gonna be bored? I really don't mind staying until he gets home.”

Ellie thinks (dramatically, extremely nineteen—) that if she lets you take care of her, she might actually die. It felt like she almost did last time you visited, your face serious with concentration as you pressed the back of your hand against her forehead. ‘You're warm’, you said, ‘do you feel sweaty?’ Ellie stared up at you, eyes glossy and heavy from sleep. ‘Not really’, her fingers sneaked out from under the blanket to wrap themselves around your forearm, a moment of bravery or delusion, ‘your hand feels nice’. You chuckled, ‘okay, keep it’.

She’s less feverish today, but not yet recovered from the greedy voice in her head that begs her to keep you close. If you don't go to the party now, she thinks (knows) that she’ll let herself casually talk you into staying the rest of the night. “Nah, don't miss your party,” she says. “I’ll be okay, Joel’s gonna teach me how to play that old card game.”

You raise your eyebrows. “So you're gonna argue all night.”

“No— what?” Ellie scoffs. “It’ll be good, I learn fast.”

“Yeah, because you make up your own rules.”

“I have questions about the rules, that's not the same thing.”

“It is if you cheat—”

“I’m not a cheater!”

You hum, a curious tilt of your head, and Ellie rolls her eyes before the words are even out of your mouth. “No, I guess you’d have to have a girlfriend for that.”

You watch her run her tongue over her teeth, her shoulder against the door frame. “You know I could say the same to you, right?”

“Too bad I said it first,” you shrug, pretty smile stretching your lips. “I guess I'll go, then. I’ll come over when it's done so you don't miss me too much.”

Ellie tries to maintain her composure. You know, she thinks, do you know? You must know. You can't know— “Right. Also so you can steal my food and crash in my bed, I’m guessing.”

“When you’re all vulnerable and weak? What do you think of me, Ellie?” you frown sadly, a hand over your heart.

“I think I know you,” she says, the corner of her lips lifting just a little, inescapably.

You walk to the gate and turn around as you close the lock, your hands on either side of your mouth as if she’s miles and miles away. “I’ll take the couch!”

“Yeah, sure!” Ellie yells back, her voice pretty even when it's hoarse, knowing she’ll hold on for just about ten minutes before she insists you take the bed instead.

Joel stays awake with her until around 10pm, when his yawns become too many to hide and he’s already let Ellie win three games, his smile genuine and wide while she chuckles and pretends she doesn’t notice. He leaves her with a tupperware of soup for tomorrow’s lunch and a deck of cards. To teach your friends or— I don't know, keep on the coffee table, he’d said, make you look cool. Ellie’s not sure you would find a box of cards ‘cool’, but she’s not above trying.

Ever since she moved out to the garage, she’s discovered a new type of stress at the notion of having you over. At Joel’s house, all she ever did to prepare for guests was pick up the dirty clothes from her bedroom floor and put her books in a (wobbly) single pile. Now things are different. The garage is small, but it's all hers— her floor, her living room, her kitchen. She can't have you thinking that she can't take care of things on her own.

She spends the next hour moving things around until finally, two loud knocks. A second passes; Ellie looks at the cards and considers shoving them inside one of the drawers on her desk. By the time the one quiet knock comes, she shrugs and decides to leave them on the coffee table, lest Joel was right and she misses a chance to have you start thinking she's cool and mysterious. “It's open,” she says from the couch, tiredness soon catching up with her after all that time rearranging things.

The door opens and you come in, quickly closing it behind you, a relieved sigh at the loss of that crisp, cold breeze outside. “Did Joel forget those?” you ask, bent at the waist as you take your shoes off, your chin pointing at the deck, the only thing on the coffee table. Maybe she should've been more subtle with it.

“Uh, no,” Ellie scratches the back of her neck, her legs stretched across the couch. “They’re a gift.”

She's not sure you hear her over the groan you make as you stretch your arms above your head, her legs moved to the side automatically to make space for you to sit. You fall down with a sigh and both forget about the cards— you, distracted by the warm tingly feeling of a couple drinks, and Ellie by the new jacket you’re wearing.

She lets a million different scenarios spin around her head for a couple seconds before she blurts out the question. “Whose is that?”

“What?” you turn your head away from the movie playing on the TV.

“The jacket.”

“Oh,” you look down at yourself as if you’ve just remembered it’s there. “Maya was leaving too, so she walked here with me. It’s hers.”

Ellie hums, her back sliding a little further down the couch, legs spread. “Stinks like it’s hers.”

You chuckle before you can help it, her animosity ridiculous and charming— Ellie’s better with actions than she is with words. “I don't even know what you're talking about,” you shake your head, not quite slurring, but not too far from it either. "She smells like strawberries."

Fuck Maya and her strawberry shampoo. Ellie could get some if she wanted to, maybe if she traded— what the fuck is she thinking about? She rolls her shoulders back and pushes the thoughts away, gluing her eyes to the screen. “Sure,” she says, less because she agrees and more because she doesn't wanna hear what else you like about Maya. “You had fun, then?”

“It was alright. You didn't miss out on too much,” the end of your sentence stretched out by a yawn, you cover your mouth lazily and rest back fully against the couch. “Jesse was drunk. They had to stop him from getting up on a table.”

Ellie chuckles. “I don't know, maybe he had something to say. I think I would’ve let him.”

“That's what I said,” you smile and let your head fall to the side, your cheek against the cushion. She feels you staring, enables it for a while by acting oblivious, falsely over-invested in some movie she can't remember the title of. She hears you move closer before she feels it— the shuffle of your clothes, the stupid jacket rubbing against her couch, so easily forgettable by the time your temple falls on her shoulder.

Ellie's about to fall asleep when she hears the little noise you make, something like a sniffle. For a worrying second she thinks she might’ve given you her cold, but then she feels the tip of your nose brush against her shoulder and she realizes you’re trying to breathe her in.

“You always smell nice,” you whisper, half asleep.

Ellie swallows and prays to keep her body completely still, scared she’ll make the wrong move and have you pull away, scared you’ll lean closer and be able to hear the fast beating on her chest. She sounds breathy, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Like fresh rain.”

Slow like the roll of credits playing on the TV, Ellie feels how every muscle in her body settles down, relaxed, content— fucking cocky. She wraps her arm around your shoulders and hopes the scent will rub off on the jacket and remind Maya of a cloudy autumn night, rain over her garden.

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

THREE!

"Do you think we would've liked each other?" you ask, your legs resting on her lap while she fidgets mindlessly with the ruffled cuff of your socks. Every patrol lately ends the exact same way, a quiet walk home and a joint on Ellie’s couch. "Back when the world was normal?”

Ellie turns to look at you, blinking lazily, a reddish hue over her green. You’re not sure if she's more tired or high, but either way you're not doing much better— everything you’ve said during the past hour is the kind of thought you have when you're alone at night and your brain wanders, moments away from falling asleep. It's a meaningless question, but Ellie lets out a soft hum and thinks about it like it's worth considering. You're not sure if anyone you’ve met in your whole twenty years of life is as willing to indulge you as she is.

"Yeah," she says decidedly, in the same tone with which one would say duh. "We—" a yawn cuts her off, slender hand rubbing one of her eyes. "We would be friends, like, in college."

"I wouldn't be in college.”

Ellie frowns, takes one last inhale and discards the joint to the ashtray on her coffee table. "Why not?"

"'Cause I'm not smart like you," you shrug.

The fold between her eyebrows deepens. "You're smart," she argues, with enough conviction that you almost believe her, insisting, "You are."

"In other ways, sure—” Ellie opens her mouth to interrupt but you get ahead of her, “I’m not trying to talk badly about myself, I just don't think college would be for me.”

You’ve never been the most disciplined. It’s hard to imagine yourself staying up late to study, taking diligent notes in class. It feels ridiculous.

“I’d be working somewhere, I think. Making coffee for people or something.”

Ellie pauses before she nods, adjusting her daydream to what you’re saying, strangely committed. "Then we would meet there,” she makes it sound like the easiest thing in the world, a natural equation. “I'd go get coffee from you."

You chuckle. "You don't even like coffee that much."

Ellie shrugs, soft pink lips curved in a smirk that tells you she's sleepy and serves to warn you of the horror that's about to come out of her mouth.

You groan. “Don't—”

"Maybe I like the pretty girl that's making it."

“Awful,” you push her shoulder away, barely any force behind it, her giggles swimming comfortably around your head. “Never speak again.”

"Not my best work?" she asks, her fingers wrapping lazily around your shin. Too much, her brain warns, but then she remembers the pad of your finger over the back of her hand last night, the cursive lines with no purpose other than to be touching her— and it feels right, or like it's not enough. Too much soon turns to coward.

"Possibly your worst.”

She might be going crazy, but lately Ellie feels like you’re looking at her differently. In your eyes there's something gentle, awaiting, a tracing of your eyes over her face that says please. She chews on her lip, her eagerness painful. “We would like each other,” she doesn't think there's a world where you wouldn't, and if there was… "I'd make you like me."

You raise your eyebrows, teasing, "Oh, so like now?"

Her lips part with genuine surprise, more amused than offended. “...I made you, huh?”

You regret the joke as soon as it comes out of your mouth, immediately brought back to your fourteen year old self, lonely and admittedly captivated by the auburn haired girl from next door. Flashes of you rushing to catch up with her, untied laces on your too tight sneakers, Ellie, do you wanna be friends? The sound of pages shuffling and her voice reading in whispers in the dead of night because you asked, can you talk to me until I fall asleep? Infatuated from the beginning, obsessed. Even now, on her couch, after spending a whole day together— do you like me? Would you like me, always?

A pillow crashes against the side of her face, her laugh almost louder than the embarrassed pounding of your heart. You pull your legs from her lap and lie back, fold your arms over your face. “You're so annoying.”

A lie so obvious it makes Ellie smile. She shifts to crawl closer, one knee on either side of you. “C’mon, I was joking,” she leans forward and you feel her knuckles tap your arm like she’s knocking on a door. The power to make you shy is still foreign to her, makes her feel drunk, thrilled. She doesn't remember having it before, but of course it was there. In little ways, in daily, simple things. Your eyes always looking for her first in any room, lighting up even after an especially bad pun, tracing her arms when the day becomes too hot to keep her jacket on. You like her, of course. How much time has she been wasting? The breath she lets out feels like it's been waiting to be let go, years spent stuck in her lungs. Ellie wraps her fingers around one of your wrists, her voice sweet, achingly soft. “Want me to tell you why I know I’d like you?”

You lower your arms just slightly, eyes peering up at her.

“Yeah?” she tilts her head.

You nod, arms coming down, unusually quiet.

Ellie grins, victorious. “Okay, but fair warning— it's worse than the coffee thing.”

You chuckle. “Is it?”

“Very.”

“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think about it, distracted by the vision of her practically sitting on top of you. Freckled face framed by the hair that's escaped her usual bun, softly lit by the warmth of the lamp on her desk. “Alright,” you say finally.

It takes Ellie a second to respond, momentarily dazed by the thought of being pretty enough for you to ogle like this. She clears her throat. “You ready?”

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear and away from her eyes. “Sure.”

Ellie waits for the nerves to come, but even as she parts her lips to speak, they never do. What a kind fate. “I know I’d like you because nothing’s ever made more sense to me— I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. I like you enough for a million lifetimes.”

You look at each other, bask in a moment of understanding. Your eyes on her lips, a hand on her waist that pulls her closer. “That was worse,” you agree.

Ellie moves to rest on her forearms, cages you in, her nose brushing against yours. “I told you.”

She waits, feels herself count once again, a final time, one, two—

A hand against the back of her neck brings her in and the quiet noise of her surprise vibrates against your lips, makes her smile into the kiss for just a second before the hunger takes over. Her hips readjusting over yours, knees pressing against your sides, Ellie kisses like it's a need rather than a whim. She takes and takes and swallows every sigh you make like it's a gift, four, five, six seconds of a messy trail of kisses down your neck to say thank you before she resurfaces again.

“Love you,” she breathes out, because suddenly all that talk about ‘like’ feels stupid— immature, incomparable to what she actually feels for you. “Need you.”

You moan against her lips and it's her favorite sound in the whole world, immediately, as quick as realizing she would fall in love with you the day she met you. “Love you, Ellie.”

A kiss to your clavicle, your hands pulling at her shirt and her thigh between yours. She makes you say it three more times.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #ellie x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams imagine #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams smut #loser!ellie #ellie williams fanfic

829 notes · View notes

mrfoox · 2 years ago

Text

Wtf is my fascination with this little freak.... Hes just a dude but I'm so intrigued, I'm tired

#miranda talking shit #Its been two years but i still dont understand him so im guessing thats why #Tbf we didnt become closer until a year ago or something so yeah. But since day one i just felt like it was something with him and now im #Frustrated. Hes literally just a dude. Yet my brain find him so fascinating. I know i in general am very interested in people i like #But this guy man... I think it might be because i can understand him and thus cant predict him? My brain does love a mystery.#I mean i had an fairly intense period of 3-6 months where i was super fascinated by fabian. I still kinda am but now i think #I understand how he works over all so i do not feel the intense need to ask him all kinds of things and analyze? Bc now i have an decent #Idea of how he works. Meanwhile this little freak is almost the opposite of me in everything and i just want to study him. I think in a way #He reminds me of myself at least in the way of 'dealing' with mental problems etc. Or rather my past self. So i want to challenge him to do #It differently. I dont think i have an savior conplex or something when it comes to him bc i do basically not... Tell him to change?#I dont think i could change him. So thats not what my fascination comes from... But holy shit i just want to talk with him about everything #Also probably why i like him that he will answer any questions i ask. No topic has been bad or too weird and i appriciate that in others #But nah. Never been this intrested in someone whos this diffrent than me ever. I always need to have something major in common for a strong #Intrest. But here its like... We are both introverts ... And both social actors/pretenders... Otherwise our similarities are pretty small #I really wish i knew exactly why my brain is so intrested in him . I think its my hyperfixation being activated unfortunately.#Technically he have a lot of things/traits i dont like? But still i dont find him annoying or something?#Many things i dont agree or have the same opinion as him on. But i just find it refreshing ? Maybe its bc i basically havent known anyone #Like him. Hes not the type of person i attract or even put my time into i think. That's why ive told him we'd not be friends if we didn't #Meet this way. I would probably not have wanted to talk to him and i cant see him wanting to talk to me. Especially if we met when younger #No way teen Miranda would not go near him iajdjfjskskd id like to discuss this with him but im scared to scare him and scared to learn #Something bad or him not caring for me or something. I know he doesnt care about many things so id not be suprised but #Fuck this guy. I wamt to obsess over a video game instead where there are wikis to read /:

1 note · View note

my-castles-crumbling · 20 days ago

Text

smart - October 6th - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - word count: 665 - trans!Regulus Inspired by a reddit post that I heard about on a podcast so I don't have the original source to link it lol

"It's going well, I think," Effie whispered to Monty, who nodded at his wife, grinning.

"I like him. I have to admit, he's not what I thought he would be, though," Monty murmured, looking across the room.

It was true. James was so larger-than life and attention-grabbing; so loud and, Effie had to admit, dramatic. But Regulus, James's boyfriend who he'd finally agreed to introduce them to, was quieter. It had struck them as strange that it had taken so long, since Regulus was Sirius's little brother, and Sirius had practically been their adoptive son for years. But they didn't know a lot about Regulus. Just that he had taken longer to cut ties with Sirius's problematic family, and that their son was absolutely crazy about him.

He also seemed nervous and a bit skittish, though when he did speak, he came off as extremely smart. Though both men looked at each other with stars in their eyes, it was certainly a different match than what James's parents had been expecting.

When they interacted together, it made all the sense in the world, though. At least in Effie's opinion. They were natural opposites in the best way, and Regulus seemed to bring out the best in James. He'd never seemed happier.

"I'm going to do the dishes," she announced, standing and exiting the room, waving all of the boys off as they got up to try to help.

But as she began to get to work, the short, curly-haired man who had been glued close to James's side all night entered the kitchen, balancing a stack of plates.

"Oh, let me get those, dear!" Effie jumped over to grab the stack from Regulus's hand, eager to help.

"Thanks, Mrs. Potter," Regulus smiled softly. "The meal was wonderful. Was that thyme I tasted?"

"Oh, thank you, dear. It was! Do you cook?" she asked as they began to fall into a rhythm of washing and drying together.

"A bit. I learned a lot of family recipes as a child, and it was one of the few things my parents insisted on teaching me that I actually enjoyed," Regulus shrugged, meticulously drying a plate.

"Interesting," Effie frowned, speaking over the running water. "Did they make Sirius learn, too?" Sirius had become a permanent fixture in their household long ago, but had never mentioned learning how to cook.

Regulus just snorted softly. "No, they only made the girls learn."

It took a moment for Regulus's admission to sink in, and the dish Effie was now washing in the sink slipped from her hands as she realized. "Oh!" she said softly, her brain catching up with the conversation.

Regulus's eyes grew wide as he, too, figured out what had happened. "James and Sirius never told...?" His face, which had previously had a small smile playing on his guarded features, grew nervous and almost cold.

But Effie wasn't having that. "Regulus," she said firmly, grabbing his arm with her wet hand and refusing to allow him to turn and walk away. "It doesn't matter to us," she stated, looking the terrified man in the eye, making sure he understood she'd never been more sincere.

The gray eyes that stared back at him grew wide and watery, and he blinked a few times before nodding and letting out a shaky breath. "I- okay," he mumbled. "Sorry, I- It's just, my parents were-"

"I understand," Effie murmured, movign her hand up to squeeze his shoulder.

Nodding again, Regulus visibly relaxed, turning back to the dish he had been drying.

"It won't matter to Monty, either," Effie clarified, squeezing his shoulder again and returning to the sink. "As long as you and James love each other and you support his Quidditch team, he'll approve."

Chuckling, Regulus smiled. But after a moment, he turned to Effie, frowning. "What Quidditch team? Because James likes the Chudley Cannons and I can't even pretend to like-"

"No, he likes Puddlemere," Effie laughed, pulling him into a hug.

512 notes · View notes

cozycottagetarot · 6 months ago

Text

Random Things About Your Person

From Elle: Pulled This One From The Drafts... wasn't going to post it but maybe there's something useful in it for someone. It's a chill one ✌️

Notes:

Definition of 'Your Person': At this point, I'm not sure how I personally define 'Your Person', so I guess I'm leaving that up to you're interpretation. For now, let's just say someone you'll have an impactful connection with.

Reading Layout: This reading is done in a brain-dump style where the info is just bullet as it came to me and less organised.

Dividers From X

Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings -- Open 🥂

PILE 1

This person is such a loving and nurturing person… they could even help heal your inner child. If you want kids then this will transfer over to how they parent and it's very heartwarming.

They give off ethereal vibes. Very in tune with their intuition or have a strong sense of knowing

They could be your 'perfect match'

Someone you 'grow old' with or could envision yourself 'growing old' with

They could have a diverse friend group or their friend group is very important to them.

Night and the moon could be super important. They could be born at night, you meet at night or you communicate with them through your dreams.

They’re very abundant. Regardless of how much money they make, they just have such a rich life that you can see they are without want.

They’re very calming. They could calm your nervous system.

You’re going to have a very passionate/intimate relationship

There could be a 1-3 year age difference between you two (this is more so if you're interested in age differences... I don't why but I ended up reading those here)

They’re trustworthy and reliable

A very strong, gentle and protective person

PILE 2

Could live by the water or be very emotional.

They’re your heart, your everything. It might be hard to deny your attraction to them… but not physically. More so like a knowing once you meet this person that they play a significant role in your story

'Lionheart'... Regal energy

Lots to learn from them... So much that I actually wrote it twice lol

Kind of exotic… very beautiful

They don’t bark, they bite

They're someone who makes things happen

Very quiet…. It makes me think of something that I saw that goes along the lines of "You're harmless, not peaceful. If you’re peaceful you’re capable of great violence" or something like that. This is not meant to say that they're this aggressive/violent person. I feel like it's quite the opposite really.

I kept seeing this image of coming across a wounded animal, a wolf to be exact. You can see they've been in a fight/injured and are on guard. They're not going to hurt you but you can see that they are alert and will attack if you show you mean harm. A case of survival...

I feel like they hold the key to your happiness in a way

Something angelic about them… it could be their mind too

3 to a 8 year age difference (this is more so if you're interested in age differences… I don't why but I ended up reading those here)

An unexpected meeting

Beauty in darkness. Easily stressed or anxious. It feels very tense compared to pile/group 1

They’ve overcome a lot… flexible at a cost

One of you is further ahead in life than the other

Protective of their energy. Loyal, ambitious.

Overstimulated frequently or easily

PILE 3

They may be big on naps. Like napping together is their love language

They may be a little weird

Grumpy x sunshine vibes

Whimsy or connected to their inner child, youthful vibe

Very calm and peaceful

You two could be polar opposites but you work well together.

Their appearance can change a lot... I think more so through them willingly changing it. Really, don't be alarmed if you come home and they look completely different. I feel like they're mischievous and would get a kick out of your reaction

You could have a 2-6 year age difference (this is more so if you're interested in age differences… I don't why but I ended up reading those here)

They've managed to maintain a positive disposition despite the hardships they've faced

They could give off a met you in a past life vibe

Either good at helping you relax or they easily get stressed out but then can just as easily relax themself

Could be very creative or artistic... muse energy

Could like to take their space/time alone.... but could get lost in their head if not careful.

"Living in alignment" could be important to them... they may have a set of personal values or principles they really like to adhere to.

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pac reading #pick a picture #pick a pile reading #pick an image #free tarot reading #tarotblr #pick an image reading #cozycottagetarot #cozycottagetarot readings #pac tarot

984 notes · View notes

satoruxx · 1 year ago

Text

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: best friend!satoru is everything to me, fluff, teeny tiny bit angsty, but only bc of pining (my favorite), here to add to my simp satoru agenda, he’s trying his best but reader is oblivious (same), pls notice him rheya’s note: i cant stop thinking about best friend!satoru so i’m here to share this silly little blurb LMAO that’s it enjoy !! part 2

if satoru had known that being your best friend would be this difficult, he would have turned away from you when you said hi to him on your first day at jujutsu high.

it's not that he doesn't care about you. no, quite the opposite actually. he's always cared about you more than he'd like to admit. he can remember the way he used track the eyes of fellow students trailing you when you walked by. he can remember the sting of his nails as they dug into his clenched palms, and how suguru would pat his shoulder sympathetically when he noticed. he was sixteen at the time.

back then it seemed like he would grow out of his teenage crush, after being dismissed as your good friend for so long. but no, just his luck that these stupid feelings would grow and grow until they were tangled up around his very soul. a vice-like grip.

and now almost seven years later, nothing has changed.

"and he told me that if i wanted to be more interesting i should learn to fence, like he does!" you rant, throwing your hands up as you pace the length of his kitchen. satoru leans against the counter, arms crossed as he watches you vent your anger over yet another failed first date.

"uh huh." he acknowledges, trying to stay focused as you continue your annoyed speech. his fingers flex against his biceps, a thinly veiled attempt at controlling his frustration. whether he's frustrated with you or the man you were with, he has no clue.

"then he asked me where i was from, and then said i didn't look like it!" you rage, face hot as you finally unload the frustration you've been carrying all evening.

satoru huffs in mild irritation, trying hard not to roll his eyes. but you hear it and turn to him, half ticked off and half curious. "what was that?"

he clicks his tongue.

"you do this all the time. you always pick guys who treat you like shit. i'm not even surprised anymore." he snaps, a bit more forceful than he intended to be.

there's a silence that follows, and satoru’s unlucky enough to catch the mildly surprised look on your face. he tongues his cheek, brows pinched as he watches your expression fall. an ugly feeling that reminds him suspiciously of guilt rolls around in his stomach.

"you’re right…" you sigh, shoulders slumping as you cross your arms with a defeated shake of your head. "it's just tiring, you know?"

he turns his back to you, reaching across the counter to start slicing up an apple, trying to keep his hands occupied because they're itching to touch you. but he can't keep the bitterness out of his tone when he answers with a clipped, "yeah i know."

he can practically feel your confused stare on his back. but then you chuckle in amusement, mirth clear in your tone. "what do you mean you know? you literally get attention from random people on the street. you can have anyone you want." you laugh.

"are you serious?" he asks, eyes wide with disbelief as he spins around to face you again. you only blink at him, expression so annoyingly clueless it makes him sigh. he turns away from you once again, going back to cutting the apple.

"what?" you cock your head, not understanding why he's so forlorn about it. "most people would jump at the chance to date you. everyone wants you, you know?"

"not everyone. not the one who matters." he mutters bitterly as he places the apple slices onto a plate. you said all of it so casually, like it's supposed to be obvious, but all satoru feels is an overwhelming wave of disappointment wash over him.

"you…never mind." he relents, biting his tongue. "it's not important."

he hears your sharp intake of breath as you gasp, curiosity no doubt brimming in your barely concealed grin.

"ooh interesting! are you telling me you have a thing for someone, toru?" the teasing in your tone is palpable, and satoru feels his stomach flip pleasantly when you say his name. he turns around to face you, letting his shoulders drop as a helpless smile stretches across his face.

he walks up to you, pushing an apple slice past your lips and chuckling quietly. you're still giving him those curious little eyes as you chew, and he tries to swallow down the overwhelming wave of pure affection that threatens to burst from within. clearly today wasn't the day you were going to realize what kind of feelings he's been keeping a secret for so many years.

that's okay. he'll wait as long as you need him to.

he flicks your forehead gently, before reaching down to tug on your cheek. "don't worry your pretty little head about that, sweet thing. you'll figure it out soon enough."

2K notes · View notes

yutarot · 2 months ago

Text

IN PERFECT SYNC [j.jh smau]

conflict [noun] /ˈkɒnflɪkt/

1 : a serious disagreement or argument, typically a protracted one.

2 : a state of mind in which a person experiences a clash of opposing feelings or needs.

3 : a serious incompatibility between two or more opinions, principles, or interests.

fourteen — conflict. wc: 1.0k

to be perfectly honest, you are a mess.

these past few days have been nothing but misery, not only have you lost your best friend, whilst actively being reminded of the worst few years of your life, but you have been punished for a wrong-doing which wasn’t entirely, morally, your wrong-doing.

taeyong knew what he was doing, he was trying to ignore his own faults by making you seem like you’d done worse. and only you know the truth behind his actions.

he had lied.

honestly, you didn’t mean what you said about jaehyun, and you hated yourself for saying it, knowing that deep down, at the time, you wanted nothing more than for him to get a place at the college.

but some things have to be twisted in order to make them straight again.

and you were never going to let your previous feelings for him shine through, never before and never again.

that part of you was gone.

on the verge of falling asleep, you’re abruptly awoken by the buzz of your phone. you scramble around to find it until you lay your eyes on the name of the person who sent you the message, your heart sinks in your chest.

your mind is whirring around in your head, making you dizzy with confusion. he’s here? he’s at your dorm? at 2am? you start to believe you’re going crazy, that this text isn’t real and you’re imagining the screen infront of you. but it’s when you hear the familiar triple-knock on your door that you feel your feet firmly planted in reality.

he’s here.

you make your way to the door, hesitant to open it, you look through the peephole.

there he is, hair and shirt soaked through from the rain, a look of distaste on his features. he’s here, and he’s not happy.

taking a breath to calm yourself, you open the door.

his eyes look to yours, jaw clenching and eyes softening, a contrast that you recognise from the time you accidentally spilled jaehyun’s coffee all over yourself, in which he apologetically cleared up for you with a gentleness you wish you could see in him again. but you’ll never be able to see him like that, not after everything you’d heard, everything you’d experienced.

you’re thrown from your nostalgia when jaehyun speaks, his voice tired and quiet, but you still hear him over the ringing of your ears.

“yn..” it’s just your name, but you understand the word to be so much more. he’s angry, livid even, but he’s stopping himself from displaying it as much as he wants to, and you don’t know why. “you just couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

“why are you here?” you whisper, sternly.

“will you ever stop hating me?”

the question throws you off guard, and you take a step back as an almost reflex to his words.

“what?”

“it’s been 2 years, and yet you still hate me like it was yesterday. will you ever stop.” he snaps, his voice raising.

“no.” you reply, honestly.

you’ll never stop hating him, how could you ever do any opposite after learning he never even liked you at all, whilst you liked him.

whilst you loved him.

he’s looking at you, trying to read you, blinking the wet strands of his hair out of his eyes. he must have come here immediately after reading taeyongs tweet, he lives on the other side of the campus. his eagerness has you thinking.

“you’re pathetic, you know that?” you continue, “ruining my life again, and again. i might still continue to hate you, jaehyun, but you’re the one giving me all these easy reasons to.”

his eyebrows furrow, either in anger or confusion, you can’t tell.

you carry on, “and to hear from, giselle, my bestfriend… how are you still humiliating me after all these years?!”

“giselle? it was her?” his head cocks to the side in question, but you don’t care that he’s asking who it was.

“god…. you don’t even know her name…” you’re disappointed, hurt for the part of you that still had hope that jaehyun wasn’t just trying to mess with you.

“just forget it, i don’t know why you came here, and frankly, i don’t care.”

there’s a pause, a beat where you both catch your breath, waiting for the next person to come up with some kind of witty remark, an argument which will anger the other in more ways than imaginable.

but jaehyuns next words are nothing of the kind.

“im here because i can’t carry on like this.”

“what?”

“you, me, hating eachother. i can’t do it.”

“can’t do it? fuck you jaehyun.”

“im serious.”

now you’re the silent one. you’re trying to decipher what he means but nothing comes to your mind.

he continues. “yn-“ but you cut him off.

“no, you don’t get to do this. i’ve cried for months because of you. i don’t have much, jaehyun, but please let me have fact that i can hate you as much as i want and it means nothing, it’s the one choice i can make, you can’t take that from me. you’ve always hated me, and now i hate you too. deal with it jae.”

his eyes falter at your use of his nickname and you regret it the moment it leaves your lips.

you don’t understand what he’s trying to do, but you know he’s trying to mess with you, it’s all he’s done since the day you met him, and it’s all that he will ever do.

“fine.” he says. “i’ll keep hating you, if that’s what you want.”

you nod, and his anger subsides for a moment when he notices your acceptance.

he turns to leave your dorm entrance, and you watch as he begins to shuffle his feet to turn his back to you.

but he pauses before he moves away.

turning his head over his shoulder, he mumbles one final sentence before continuing his way out.

“and yn, for the record.. i had no idea she was your friend.”

you slam the door in his face.

mlist — next

notes; hmmmm i wonder what’s going on in jaehyuns head 🤔🤔🤔 i promise things will start making sense soon!! yn is not having a great time rn but it can only get better from here🤭🤭

taglist — open; @https-yeonjun @chenlesfavorite @therealbobbyshloby @f6llsun @jkslvsnella @nanaxwi @cloudmrk @neocrashed @vernonburger @vividwritess @taeeflwrr @mmjhh1998 @cyjzzl @stareaa @minkyuncutie @mrkleelvr @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @slayhaechan @jaeveil @tynlvr @mslora @nosungluv @grassbutneo @dokyriu @girlz4jaem @axo-l0tl @yyangj3lly @solvrse @m1ng1swife @gentlepeach @xiuriii @soobinbunnie5 @tocupid @apolloxxivmin @ctrlstar @gyuguys @tokitosun @i-kai @flamingi @mrkleelvr @en-dream @queenrachelpink @ssweetreveries @swanyvess @flaminghotyourmom @hyuck-me @cryingforjae @hizhu @starfilledgaze

#nct #nct smau #nct 127 #nct fanfic #nct college au #jeong jaehyun smau #jaehyun smau #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun nct #nct jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun

253 notes · View notes

bet-on-me-13 · 1 year ago

Text

Misunderstandings really really suck Pt.2

Edit: Part 1 link since it took me all day to find it again

Damian had a Rival.

Scratch that, Damian had a Nemesis in the form of a girl in his class by the name of Danielle Nightingale. Although she insisted she be called "Ellie" instead.

The trouble started on the first day of classes. Damain had just arrived at the Manor recently, and unfortunately his father had decided that he needed to go to School in order to keep up a Civilian charade. So, he had been sent to Gotham Metro Academy, a rather prestigious school that he could not give less of a fuck about. Why would he willingly subject himself to the borderline preschool teachings of a Civilian school when the League had taught him everything he needed to know years ago? Of course, that was his attitude before he met her.

Danielle was in the seat right next to him for most of his classes, and at first they had not interacted all that much. She had attempted a friendly greeting at first, but Damian had quickly shut her down in a rather rude way.

It wasn't until the next time they took a Science Test together that they really regarded one another. It was supposed to be a test to see where their education level was, but Damian had decided he would Ace the test and move onto some more interesting stuff.

He finished his test within a few minutes and got up to turn it in, at the same time Danielle did. He looked over at her and saw that she was just as surprised to see him getting up. Later on, they learned that they were the top 2 scorers in the class by a wide margin. Danielle had gotten a 100%, while Damian had gotten a 99%. She gave him a smug Smirk, and that was when he decided that he would best her no matter the cost.

From there they made every class a contest. Always on opposite sides for PE, always competing for the best scores on Tests, they even made getting to the cafeteria a race.

Damain found that he genuinely enjoyed competing with her, since she was the only one who could keep up. And they could never decide on a good winner. Danielle always beat him in Science Classes, but Damian was the better in the Math Classes, and somehow they always tied in PE no matter the sport they played.

And after a while, they began to talk with eachother about stuff aside from their little contests. He learned that she was going to the school on a Scholarship, which was why she always tried her best to excel in exams. He learned that her older brother owned a small Shop a few blocks from Park Row, which he used to provide for the both of them to live comfortably. He also learned that he enjoyed his conversations with her as much as he enjoyed competing with her, it was genuinely fun to just sit down and talk to her once in a while.

He finally decided that they had grown from Rivalry to full on Friendship about halfway through their first year of school together. He had found her backed into a corner by some snobby rich kids who didn't like that a "street rat" was getting better grades than them so often. To her credit, she was holding back her emotions much better than he would have.

When he tried to help her, they turned on him. They began mocking his status as a bastard child, calling his mother many horrible names, and even began to make racist remarks about his Arabic heritage. He didn't even get the chance to retort before one of the kids was on his back clutching his broken nose, Ellie standing next to him with her arm extended. The other one soon followed, this time by Damian's hand.

Of course the incident got them both detention, but from then on he knew she was his friend.

...

Damian began noticing something was off about Ellie about 1 year after meeting her. Her 12th birthday had just passed, and the new school year was just beginning, and for some reason she was much competitive than usual. She didn't seem to think he had noticed, but she hadn't tried this hard to beat him since they had first met. She wasn't talking to him as much, distancing her self more and more as the weeks went on.

It finally came to ahead during a game of Dodgeball in their PE class. She had been competing with him relentlessly, but even then she wasn't preforming up to her usual level. He could see she was tired, exhausted even, from such a simple exercise, sweat pouring from her skin in buckets. Which didn't make any sense, since he had seen her do much more intense things without breaking a sweat.

He also knew that she was a Metahuman, and therefore had more stamina than a normal person. (She had told him over the summer, after deciding that she trusted him with her biggest secret)

Before the game had even ended, he was asking her to just tell him what was wrong. She denied that anything was wrong, right up until she collapsed in the middle of the game, unconscious.

He had immediately rushed her to the Nurses Office, where she finally opened up about what had been disturbing her so much recently.

She was dying.

She had a genetic disease, linked back to her Meta-Human abilities, that was slowly killing her. And they were running out of the medication needed to treat it.

She took out what looked like an Epi-Pen and injected herself with the medication inside. Damain could instantly see the color come back to her skin, her muscles got less tense, and her breath became more steady.

"That was one of our remaining Doses", she explained, "This dose will last me about a month. We have enough left to last until December, but after that there won't be anymore left. It was only ever produced by a single pair of scientists out of state, and they died in a car accident a few years ago."

Damian is extremely worried, his best friend is dying and he doesn't know how to help. He tried to offer his dad's help, but she refuses.

"I'm a Metahuman, if a person as high profile as your dad stepped in to help, it would draw attention to me. And Gotham is way to dangerous for a known Metahuman to live, especially a 12 yr old one." She says, "And besides, my brother says he's working on replicating it. I trust him, and he's been researching it relentlessly."

It takes a while, but Damian agrees to let her take care of this.

Over the next few months, Damian and Ellie act as if everything is normal. From time to time they will talk about it, but they largely try to ignore it for the most part.

Sometimes Ellie will joke about it though.

"At my Funeral, make sure they don't lie. I was a fucking Goddess of Chaos and I won't have them defiling my name by spouting out that whole 'heaven has another angel' bullcrap."

"In my Will, I'm gonna set up a whole Indiana Jones Style Quest for you to follow before you can claim anything of mine. You gotta work for it."

"Don't worry, I won't haunt you after I die. I'll be too busy conquering the Afterlife to manage anything like that!"

"At my Funeral, I want you to make a speech that's just 'this is so sad. Alexa play despacito'. Nothing else, just that."

It goes on like this for months, and both of them have mostly accepted that their time together has a potential time limit, so they try to make the most out of it.

Damian even forces her to formally introduce her brother, an older guy named Danny, who is very enthusiastic to meet him. Apparently Ellie had trouble making friends in her last school, and he was just so happy she had found such a good friend in the last year.

They even invited him to visit whenever he wanted. Sometimes he would even stay the night, sleeping in Danny's room while Danny took the couch.

He even found the Lab, or makeshift lab, that Danny had made to try and find a way to replicate the Medicine for Ellie. Damian had to admit, Danny was a certified Genius, and he had Hope that Danny would find a way to save Ellie soon.

He asks for an explanation on the Medicine, and Danny explains it as "Ellie's powers draw on a type energy called Ecto, which helps keep her body stable. Unfortunately, she has a birth defect that means she can't absorb it faster than she uses it up naturally. What the Medicine does is bolster the amount she already has in her system to make it more potent and last longer."

He even shows Damian his notes, and at his insisting he begins teaching Damian about Ectoplasm and the science behind it all.

Damian begins coming over on the weekends to hang out with Ellie and check up on the progress of the Medicine. He tells the rest of his family that he just wants to get a little more comfortable in his Civilian Life, and is indulging in his urge to actually be a kid. (They still don't know about Ellie's situation, cause she asked him not to tell anyone.)

...

A few months later, Jason comes back from patrol and informs the rest of the team that he just found a Scienist creating a Super Soldier Serum in the middle of Gotham.

Unfortunately, Damian was staying over at Ellie's house for the weekend, and didn't get the memo.

2K notes · View notes

beta-therapy · 2 months ago

Text

Why can't betas just "act more alpha?"

We have all seen what it’s like when a woman interacts with a man who she wants. The man brings forth dominance and confidence, which pairs with the woman’s submissiveness and desire like yin and yang. You can easily tell that the two are destined to have sex (which can be thought of as the physical manifestation of these emotions).

A lot of men might witness that and think “Wow, I want a woman to look at me the same way she was looking at him,” then decide to go out and approach a woman in exactly the same way. He would try to carry that same bold, dominant energy he saw earlier.

But instead of responding with submission and desire, the opposite happens. The woman steps back and delivers harsh criticism, like “I don’t give out my number to strangers, so stop acting like you’re entitled to it.”

The attempt at being charming, confident, and forward (traits that make a woman go head over heels for a man) ended up backfiring when a beta tried them, and it made the woman repulsed. Why? Because it’s not possible to “learn” confidence.

Imagine if all the things that women find irresistible about the men they sleep with could simply be learned and implemented by anyone. Imagine if there was a blueprint that anyone could follow on how to seduce women, and the only thing separating alphas and betas is that the alphas followed the blueprint.

Then we would all just follow the blueprint and have a ton of sex! There would no longer be this disparity where sex is abundant for some men and extremely scarce for the rest.

But that disparity—caused by the tendency of females to all flock to a minority of males for sexual reproduction—has been a fundamental characteristic of our species for millions of years. There’s no blueprint that allows one to cheat human nature. A beta cannot put himself into the category of men that women desire by simply mimicking alpha behavior.

You can try to, but you’ll see that any woman will immediately know what you’re doing. Your body language will be slightly off. The expression on your face will be slightly off. The words you’re saying will seem canned and rehearsed. A woman will notice your fake charisma right away, and she will not be one bit attracted to it. Instead of fantasizing about you, she will be figuring out how to end the conversation.

Some men have the ability to bring out the dangerous, adventurous, desirous, and hedonistic spirit in women, thus creating that yin and yang polarity mentioned in the beginning. Most men don’t have that power, and actually have a hard time getting women to have sex with him, if he can at all.

Some naïve advice might be “bro, you just need to flirt more and touch her physically to build sexual tension.” Yeah, good luck with that, especially with a woman who’s just not having it at all. That’s a good way to get her to smack you in face and call the police on you.

Indeed, if you try to tamper with the fabric of Nature, it always will snap back and hit you in the face sooner or later.

Now we see that the question posed in the beginning is answered by a basic law of human nature:

It is not possible for any man to simply “learn” the things that make women sexually aroused, for if these traits could be faked, women would not find them attractive because they would no longer say anything positive about a man’s suitability for genetic propagation.

And to clarify, women don’t consciously think about any of this. But their interest in sexual partners is an unconscious process, and the natural law just put forth is a very strong, useful explanation of this unconscious process in the female mind.

The correctness of the law is obvious. Think about every one of the things women go for: confidence, charisma, money, status, sexual history, social dominance, blah blah blah... None of them can be easily faked, and in particular, faking them all at once is damn near impossible. Each of these things say something deep and substantial about you as a man. They each are like games with winners and losers, and the key point is that a loser can’t fake being a winner. That’s exactly why women find these things so attractive.

#beta boi #beta virgin #beta bitch #beta captions #virgin humiliation #pathetic loser #loser humiliation #virgin loser

372 notes · View notes

apomaro-mellow · 11 months ago

Text

Sunshower

Read on AO3

Written for @slavicviking for the @steddieholidayexchange !

When Steve Harrington had graduated, Eddie thought he’d be pretty much done with him. Not that they had a lot of face time before. He just thought, in the true fashion of guys that peak in high school, he’d fade into the town, get married young, show his face at the 20 year reunion. Maybe he’d catch glimpses of him around Hawkins, but not for very long. Eddie was planning on hightailing it out of here the moment the diploma was in his hands. So what if it would take another year?

The positive was supposed to be that he was NOT going to see Steve’s face in the hallways. It was a great misfortune to see him walking up from the football field with some kid. Eddie had just finished a deal by the picnic tables. Why Harrington was hanging with what looked like a freshie, he didn’t know.

Eddie would’ve known if he had a brother. So who was the kid? Curiosity got the better of him and he trailed a good distance behind them. He was a little surprised when Steve took him through the cafeteria’s kitchen doors, which had a broken lock. It was the school’s worst kept secret, but he never imagined The Hair sneaking into school during summer vacation.

So what could he do but follow?

What he saw as he crept behind them was Steve Harrington giving what must be a future freshman a tour of the school.

“Here’s the cafeteria. Honestly the food’s not bad. Their creamed spinach isn’t the best, but really who’s is?”

Steve led the kid with the curly hair out of the cafeteria and into the greater part of the school. “Here’s all the lockers. No you don’t get to choose one, but once you get assigned you can always switch with someone who’s got better real estate.”

“Does the location of my locker really matter?”, the kid asked, nose scrunching up.

“Do you want one right next to the bathroom?”

“....Boy or girls?”

Steve smiled. “Good. You’re learning.”

Eddie shadowed them for the whole tour, which ended up being about twenty minutes. Harrington was really showing this kid everything. And yet was giving him the most skewed tunnel vision of high school. Great, just what he needed his third time around as a senior. A mini-Steve. Steve was telling him which teachers would let him get away with coming in late, the best spot to sit in the classroom, what teams it was worth going for.

“Steve, it’s like you don’t even know me. Have you ever seen me dribble a ball?”

“I’m just saying that it’s a fresh start. You could be someone new”, Steve reasoned.

“Did you become someone new in high school?”

Eddie thought back to the proto-Harrington he knew in middle school. The answer was clearly no. He’d been on the baseball team back then and was pretty much just as self absorbed as he would’ve been in high school. Steve gave a non-answer about how everyone had different experiences and pushed the kid on. Eddie decided he’d heard enough. Enough to know this kid was under Steve’s wing, but clearly they had different interests.

So come the first day of school, Eddie wore his Hellfire Club shirt loud and proud. The air was still warm, which meant he did so without his jacket. That just allowed the emblem to show even more. He’d told the other members to also wear theirs. Normally Eddie waited about a week, scoping out the freshies before figuring out who he’d approach to join. But he’d already had his sights set on at least one boy.

Imagine his delight and surprise when said boy had two others hanging around. Eddie was hanging outside the school, his cronies surrounding him as they caught up from what happened over summer. The trio was loud. Very obnoxiously arguing over something. Freshmen tended to be more self-conscious, wanting to keep their heads down at first. Eddie noted the Weird Al shirt one of them had. These boys were the opposite of timid. Perfect Hellfire material.

Eddie waited until lunch to make his move though. Give them a bit of time to get acclimated and at least half a day to see where everyone stood. But when Eddie did get to them, he was glad to see both excitement and relief in their eyes. They were looking for somewhere to belong. And he could give it to them.

Screw any influence Steve Harrington had on them. Which was why Eddie made careful measures not to even mention his name. The guy had graduated. His reign was over. Actually, it had kind of ended back in 84 but who was keeping record? Dustin, Mike, and Lucas were great additions to the club. They had a passion for the game and a never-back-down attitude. Honestly, it was so great, that Eddie almost forgot that these kids knew Steve.

That is until sports tryouts started.

“You can’t honestly be thinking out trying for a team”, Mike said, practically slamming his lunch tray onto the table as he sat down.

“I’m not just thinking. I’m already training”, Lucas replied.

“Ugh”, Mike retched. “Don’t get me started on that. You spend more time with your dad than us now.”

“His dad’s not the one teaching him”, Dustin said. “Steve keeps bailing on driving me places because he’s coaching Lucas.”

Mike had a look of utter betrayal and was definitely about to say something in response when Jeff cut him off.

“You’ve got Steve teaching you? As in Steve Harrington?”

“Yeah”, Lucas answered, much to the jeers of the rest of the table.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen”, Eddie said, holding his hands up in a calming gesture. “We must not bar Lucas from his own choices. And as for Steve, well, let’s just be glad young Sinclair didn’t go to him for academic assistance.”

The others laughed at that and the subject was quickly changed to something else. The rest of them didn’t really want to talk about any of the sports teams, lest that get Eddie really going and off on one of his rants. Sometimes it was nice to have just a stress free lunch.

“He said that?!”, Steve shouted indignantly as he dribbled the ball around on the court. He and Lucas were at a public court. Lucas was getting some practice in with his dad, but whenever he was busy, Steve stepped in.

“He’s not your biggest fan”, Lucas said with a shrug.

“Yeah, well he’s no prize either. Don’t let him get in your head. There’s nothing wrong with the sports programs.”

“But they’re right about there being cliques. If I get on the team, can I even be friends with Dustin and Mike anymore if they’re gonna be in Hellfire?”

“You should go for whatever you want. High school only happens once.” Steve dribbled the ball a few times before giving a bounce pass over to Lucas. “Alright, show me your handling.”

Lucas followed Steve’s advice. He officially joined up with Eddie’s club. He loved DnD and he enjoyed playing with his friends. But walking around with a Hellfire shirt didn’t do good things for their reputations at school. The others took it in stride, but Lucas was tired of being called names and girls looking at him weird.

So as soon as the sign-ups for try outs was out, Lucas put his name down. He didn’t really announce it but he didn’t hide it either the first time the guys wanted to do something and he was busy. The reception was not so good.

“You actually wanna be on the basketball team?”, Mike was incredulous.

Eddie was leaning against the lockers, arms crossed. “I get the feeling someone put this idea in your head. Was it Harrington?”

“He didn’t put any idea in my head he just..encouraged me”, Lucas confessed. “He said I should go for what I want. You only get one life.”

“One life indeed”, Eddie nodded.

“And you wanna use it shooting hoops with Jason and his cronies?”, Jeff asked.

“They’re probably not all that bad. Steve wasn’t”, Lucas defended.

The opinions were mixed on that. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike knew what Steve had done that they couldn’t tell others. He had stood between them and certain death more than once. But they couldn’t tell Hellfire that.

“You guys don’t know what Harrington was like”, Eddie said.

“Are you saying Steve bullied you?”, Mike asked with a raised brow.

“Bullied? Pfft, no. Harrington and I barely crossed paths. I just know his type. I know what he’s about. And he and I couldn’t be anymore different.”

At first it was just a conflicting of ideals. Whatever Steve told them about high school, Eddie told them the opposite. And there was no telling one what the other said.

“Harrington’s an idiot.”

“Munson’s a loser.”

It made talking to either of them hard. Most of their days involved hanging with Eddie and when they saw Steve it was all they wanted to talk about. Sort of difficult to talk about Eddie without talking about Eddie, but they managed for now.

Well, at least they did until the party got super deep into Hellfire. The campaigns were really involved, to the point of needing rides home from Steve when they ran too late. It resulted in quite a bit of petty glaring across the parking lot. Mike and Lucas had resigned themselves to the status quo remaining, but Dustin wasn’t satisfied with that.

It took quite a bit of doing, but what else brought people together more than a missing child? Dustin didn’t actually go missing. He simply concocted a plan with his friends to make it seem like he did and only to Eddie and Steve. He wasn’t crazy enough to get the whole town looking for him. Steve wasn’t crazy about Eddie tagging along for the search but the priority was finding Dustin.

“Why do you need that to find Dustin?”, Eddie asked, reaching a hand out to touch the nails in the bat, just to see it they were real.

“Don’t ask”, Steve bit out as they entered the woods.

Dustin thought getting them to work together would ease the tension, and it did. But only after bickering like children for a little while longer. Steve didn’t like how Eddie was undermining everything he’d been saying about high school. Eddie didn’t like how Steve had been trying to lead his sheep in the wrong direction.

“Yeah well before they were your sheep they were my-”

“....They were your…”, Eddie urged him to continue.

“Nevermind.”

“You and Nancy must’ve been pretty tight when you dated to get so close to her brother and his friends.”

“Me and those guys bonded outside of Nancy.”

“Is there a story there?”, Eddie asked.

“Yeah-” Steve froze when he thought he heard a sound before continuing. The sun was still high in the sky, so they didn’t have much to fear just yet. It didn’t hurt to be cautious though. “I just…I guess I just know how high school can be for kids like that. I wanted to make it easy for them.”

Eddie shook his head. “Doesn’t matter what kind of cheat codes you give ‘em. There’s always gonna be someone who makes it harder than it needs to be.”

Steve thought about thanking Eddie for giving them a place right away, but didn’t. Eddie thought of saying how Steve seemed to have changed, but didn’t. When they finally found Dustin, they laid into him hard, especially because he wouldn’t stop smiling despite his lie being revealed. All Dustin cared about was the fact they weren’t arguing with each other.

Mission accomplished.

Mission accomplished a little too well.

Now instead of having two friends who hated each other’s guts, Dustin had two friends who reveled in being shitty older brothers to him. Any time Steve picked them up from Hellfire (which he did with a suspicious amount of willingness now) he and Eddie traded notes on whatever it was that Dustin did that week. It was like a Henderson Briefing and the main objective was to either embarrass him or annoy him, sometimes both.

“I regret ever forging this friendship”, Dustin said.

“I think it’s the best thing you’ve ever done”, Lucas beamed.

Mike was grinning too. “It’s definitely the funniest.”

It got to the point where sometimes Steve and Eddie would hang out on their own. And wasn’t that just bizarre? What did they even do together?? The answer was mostly smoking, drinking, and shootin’ the shit. Even though Steve wasn’t able to tell Eddie any of the grimier details of the past couple of years, he was still able to tell plenty. And Eddie had no NDAs to speak of.

They were sitting out by Steve’s pool one day in March, the weather just starting to warm up to be able to relax there without freezing. Spring would officially come soon and with it, maybe a day or two where they could actually take a dip.

“I’m telling you, the lunch ladies changed the formula. Something’s different about the meatloaf”, Eddie said, fully reclined in a pool chair.

”You’re implying that they actually cook that stuff in the school.”

“I’ve seen the vats of mystery meat stew, Steve. But some of the food is made on-site. And the meatloaf is one of them.”

Steve smiled up at the clear sky. They talked like this, high or not. Just the most inane things that he never wanted to end. What did he care about the food at a school he no longer attended? He cared when Eddie was the one talking about it.

“So you’re done with the loaf then?”

“I don’t even think it’s the same meat anymore”, Eddie said. “Or maybe they changed the seasoning…?”

Steve continued gazing up at the sky as Eddie mused on that. Suddenly a drop of water hit his head. Then another, then a third. He wiped his face and looked to Eddie, who was also blinking through drops. Wordlessly, they got up from their seats and went under the porch awning as the rain began falling in earnest.

“How is it raining? The sun is still out”, Steve said, reaching a hand out just to be sure it was still rain.

Eddie snorted. “Never seen a sunshower, Harrington?”

“No”, he answered honestly.

“Don’t sweat it. I’ve still gotta knock ball lightning off my strange weather checklist.”

“It’s just weird seeing it rain with no clouds”, Steve said.

Eddie watched the droplets fall in the sunlight. It was like liquid gold falling from the sky. He watched Steve’s face, no hard lines or sarcasm, just awe at seeing something new and wonderful.

“You know, some folks back where I’m from have a name for this.”

“You mean something other than ‘sunshower’?”, Steve tore his eyes from the rain to look at him.

“They say the devil’s kissing his wife”, Eddie stuck his tongue out. “Give you any ideas?”

He had been a hundred percent teasing. Eddie had just been talking. Flapping his gums. Doing his usual friendly flirtation style. He had no plan in place for when Steve actually kissed him. But when it happened, there was only one choice: to kiss him back. The rain provided some pretty romantic ambience in his opinion.

“So are you the devil in question?”, Steve asked when he pulled back.

“Only if that makes you my sweet, lovely little wife”, Eddie teased and then made kissing noises.

“Fuck off, Munson”, Steve laughed.

Feeling like they were on the edge of something, Eddie took the plunge and kissed him again instead of cracking wise. Steve softened so beautifully that Eddie wished he could go to the past and kick himself in the pants. He probably could’ve been doing this months ago.

“You know we absolutely can’t tell Dustin about this?”, Steve said against his lips.

“It’s none of his business anyway.” Eddie didn’t feel the need to mention that no one could know. He just put his hands on Steve’s hips and for once was thankful for the privacy the backyard gave them.

Weeks later, during the spring break from his darkest nightmares and the stroll through actual hell, Eddie would have an epiphany.

“That’s why you have that bat!”

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #dustin henderson #i hope ya like it!#steddie holiday exchange

603 notes · View notes

coldwind-shiningstars · 3 months ago

Text

my recent surgery will hopefully help my bladder/bowel stuff so lately I have been thinking about continence a lot, and the ways it is so important to me that we talk about it frankly and openly and the reasons why it is so difficult for people (including me) to do so. and I think there are a few different sides to the shame that comes with talking about it that are differently important?

there's the TMI aspect ("nobody needs to hear that!") where even if you're presenting information in a very educational, straightforward way people think of it as much too personal. and I think if your personal sense of privacy works such that you don't feel comfortable talking about these things you should listen to that and not talk about it, but if someone is offering information, even if you personally decide you don't want to hear it don't make disparaging comments about their choice to share it? I also think sometimes people overcorrect -- over the years I've had many conversations about continence when talking about disability and also disabled fictional characters and a number of years ago a friend told me that they were interested in exploring it but were afraid it was voyeuristic, and while I think it can be and there's a lot to criticize about the culture of "tell your entire medical details to the internet" it's not inherently more voyeuristic than other aspects of disability.

there's a disgust reaction which I also think is valid and reasonable to have, a lot of people have cleanliness related triggers etc, but again that's not the fault of the person actually talking about continence? everyone uses the bathroom. you can be polite and make your own choices about what you want to see and learn about but people should not stop talking about these things just in fear that someone else will find it disgusting

and, on the other end, there's the kink aspect which is the exact opposite problem. I want to be clear that I think kinks are morally neutral, if you have a piss/scat kink that's fine, you do you. but I also find myself worrying, when I talk about it, that people will think I'm speaking from a place of Being Horny For It instead of a place of "this is an important aspect of disability for many people." this aspect is worse when I'm speaking fictionally/fandomwise, and of course that's much less important than when I'm talking about Real Life Stuff, but I don't like feeling like I need to preface things with "I Have Incontinence Myself" because I don't think you need an experience yourself to write it compassionately or well and I don't like Telling My Business To Everyone On The Internet. there's a dialectics! moment where I genuinely believe there's nothing wrong with kinks but it's exhausting that that's the primary people talking about something like this, and also again I want what I say to be engaged with seriously.

anyway it's really tiring to me how even in a lot of disability spaces it feels like incontinence is still either shameful, a kink, or a joke. I'm tired of diaper jokes about people you don't like, I'm tired of one-off gags, I'm tired of "ewww" or "TMI!" as reactions. many MANY people have incontinence issues, and the shame around them really does prevent a lot of people from getting help for them! I want it to be something we can talk about

#I'm real and I beat myself up behind the Blockbusters #symptoms disorder #incontinence

216 notes · View notes

astropookie · 10 months ago

Text

Sun houses and fathers 🌞

Yoshitomi Nara

✨first post of 2024✨

take what resonates, leave what don’t 🎀 you don’t have to necessarily identify with it.

*I use whole sign system -house system- for more certainty

9H: you’re learning constantly from your dad. he teaches you what he’ve learned through his life. he’s teaching you about his mindset, the origin of his beliefs, why he stands for them. he could be someone very religious or faithful, and through that faith he could have teach you things he know now. also, he could be really philosophical and probably has a fixation with politics, investing. he could seem very patient or is constantly worried trying to understand how he can help you.

10H: your dad could be someone really hardworking, who you could have seen work really hard through all this years, making sure you’re satisfied in the economic and study aspect. he could have not been present too much when you were growing up and when he showed up he was too strict, he probably wasn’t conscious or didn’t know how to approach you -could be bc they thought him to bottle up his emotions-. you could end up studying/working on the same career/field your dad’s in.

11H: your dad it’s okay with who you are, or what side you show to them🧐. you’re their fav or they left you. you could feel like the only child/you are. he could seem too disperse, take it how you want to. idk why but mostly of dads of sun 11H are younger than what’s expected. he’s permissive. you were a spoiled kid, that has to do with your dad. “dreams” that word is important, he had a lot of influence and power over yours, he could have destroyed them or making sure you have all the resources -depending on the aspects-.

12H: your dad won’t judge your decisions or you. he’ll be a support. he could have difficulties to put limits in a father-son relationship, you could have felt stressed when you’re seeing how your dad is being bullied by your siblings bc of that attitude. you could have being the one who is protecting them or you’re the more serious/introverted one in the dynamic. or the total opposite: he’s too strict and you had to be careful on how to act. there’s something that happened there… you two could share something obvious, an interest, physical appearance, an adjective, etc. something everyone can point out. also, you could feel a strong or subconscious connection with your dad’s sight of the family.

5H: idk why I have the feeling you didn’t saw your dad for a long time and then you saw him, I’m trying to express that your relationship with him it’s not constant. he could be explosive or impulsive. he could contradict himself so much. he could have had you without planning it/unexpected -you were a surprise for him 🤩-. could be that your parents were young when they had you and etc. that’s why you’re like an experiment 😭 your dad doesn’t know how to approach you and he has a temperament. emotions here are fiery, when each other express their emotions they don’t take a seat and have a chat with a cup of tea, they’ll say how they feel crying and screaming.

6H: your dad could have OCD, no, I’m lying, but he could be really fucked up about order. “thinks have to be like this, why you didn’t let me this at this time?” Or the total opposite, not in the middle. he could get sticker in his routine and if things are not how he planned he get stressed. a perfectionist. he could be strict or conservative. he’s sarcastic, that’s why you could be sarcastic too. he’s hardworking and also could help on campaigns and etc. at some point you could have helped him on working on his health. and you could be the one who end up taking care of him/being the sibling who spends more time with him.

♡ Based on personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

#astrology #astro observations #pinterest #astro posts #astro placements #astro notes #sun #whole sign system #12h sun #6h sun #birth chart

448 notes · View notes

luveline · 1 year ago

Note

hope my boyfriend's okay request.

hi!!! can I request hurt comfort or angst with spencer reid? maybe reader is just an ordinary girl, not that smart, not that pretty, or even a college drop out (like reader from honeybody) so she is kinda insecure when spencer being kind to her or even ask her on a date?

tysm♡

"Do you want to play?" Spencer asks.

You're flushed before you open your mouth, startled by his sudden appearance and the new haircut he sports, curls locked back behind his neck. "Sorry, I just wanted to sit down."

"No, I'm just asking if you want to play," he says, shaking the little briefcase he holds between his fingers to emphasise the rattle of the chess pieces inside.

You've stolen his chess table again at the park. It's how you met, how you continue to meet —you want somewhere to put your book as you read and Spencer hardly ever makes you move, he just sort of sits with you until someone is in need of an opponent.

"I don't know how. I don't have the smarts."

Spencer sits down opposite you, placing the briefcase against the white and black chequered tiles. "Playing chess isn't about being smart. Being good at chess takes learned skill, though. It's like learning a language. Most people can say hello and goodbye if they try, but fluency comes with practice." He smiles at you like you're lovely and pretty and someone worth explaining this too, when you're worrying It's filtering out of your head like water through a sieve. Draining, draining, gone.

"I don't even think I could remember hello and goodbye," you say. Your attempt to smile back at him is pitiful.

His smile ebbs. "You're sure you don't want to play? I'd go easy for you."

You curl the cover of your paperback in your hands, deliberating. Chess is one of those games that seems never-ending. It's full of manoeuvres and techniques, openings, closings, all these learned combinations, strategy like nothing you've ever been able to comprehend. You've never wanted to learn because you know you won't be good, even if you try.

"Okay," you say quietly. "I really won't be any good."

Spencer shrugs and begins to retrieve the small wooden chess pieces. "I usually win anyways."

"Have you ever, um, competed? Like the grandmaster things?"

"No, but I had a friend I competed against for a long time. We played a lot of games. He was better at winning, despite my advantage." Spencer arranges your pieces with care. "Do you need me to teach you the opening moves?"

He explains slowly. When you need help, he gives it, and he doesn't lord it over your head. It's a little shameful seeing the difference in your intellectual capabilities displayed so clearly, and the longer the game goes on the worse you feel, even though Spencer lets you win.

"You'll get better every game," he says, returning taken pieces to the board.

"You want to play again?" you ask. "Come on, Spencer, that can't have been fun for you."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Because I'm a useless opponent? And I don't really have anything else going for me, either, so it must be boring." It's an awkward thing to say, self-deprecating and stilted considering you and Spencer aren't more than acquaintances. You regret it as soon as you've said it but the frustration of the situation sticks around. "I don't understand why you waste your time with me."

"It's not wasted if it's with you." Spencer looks genuinely confused, shapely eyebrows pinching. "Is that what you really think? I like spending time with you, I don't need you to be a chess expert to find you interesting."

"But there's nothing interesting,," you insist.

"Of course there is…" He straightens a chess piece, gaze split between you and the board. "You don't have to say something from a journal for it to be worth saying. You know, I've had a thousand conversations this year, some of them with professors or academic experts, but," —he puts his hand, now finished with the chess pieces, over his elbow, meeting your eyes shamelessly— "the one I replay the most is from a few weeks ago, when you told me why you like to read in the park."

"That was just small talk," you say weakly, though it hadn't felt small to you, and now you know it wasn't small for him either.

"Then I guess I love small talk," Spencer says. "Do you want to play again? I'll teach you some good opening moves if you tell me more about you. Deal?"

You nod hurriedly, and fail to hide a beaming smile. "Teach me the best one."

"That's what I meant," he says.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #luveline's 40k party

1K notes · View notes

heroesriseandfall · 14 days ago

Text

Introduction to Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying, April 1990

Introduction by Dennis O'Neil for Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying (1990 collected edition)

Transcription below the cut/readmore.

INTRODUCTION by DENNIS O'NEIL

Robin was gone. We needed a new Boy Wonder. There had been two previous Robins. The original first appeared less than a year after a new costumed hero called Batman made his debut in DETECTIVE COMICS #27, to instant success. Some time within the next eleven months, his creators, artist Bob Kane and his writer-collaborator Bill Finger, decided to give their dark, obsessed hero a kind of surrogate son, Robin, who was hailed on the cover of DETECTIVE #36 as “the sensational character-find of 1940—Robin, The Boy Wonder.” Over the next 40 years, Batman’s fortunes varied: always, however, Robin was at Batman’s side.

He served a couple of functions. If Batman were real (and it may shock some of our more avid readers to learn he isn’t), and if he were the grim, obsessed loner he is often portrayed as, Robin, with some help from Batman's faithful butler Alfred, would keep him sane; a man whose every waking hour is focused on the grimmest aspects of society, who is unable to release the effects of seeing his parents murdered, whose life is an amalgam of sudden violence and lonely vigilance, would soon skew into a nasty insanity if he did not have someone to care for, someone to maintain a link with common humanity. But Batman is, of course, not real. (My apologies to avid readers.) He isn’t exactly a fictional character—more on that shortly—but he does not and could not exist as a living, breathing human being. That doesn’t make Robin any less useful: he serves the same functions in the Batman stories as Watson served in the Sherlock Holmes canon and the gravedigger serves in Hamlet: like Holmes’s faithful doctor, Robin is a sounding board, a person with whom the hero can have dialogues and thus let the reader know how brilliantly he’s handling matters and like the gravedigger, he occasionally provides a bright note in an otherwise relentlessly morose narrative.

Which is why I was a trifle uneasy when we—the editorial staff of DC Comics—decided to let our audience decide whether he would live or die. It came to be known in our offices as the “telephone stunt.” We had a character, Robin, the readers didn’t seem terribly fond of. This wasn’t the original Robin, the “character-find of 1940”; that Robin was Dick Grayson and he had graduated from sidekick to bona fide hero who fronted a group of evil-fighting adolescents, The Teen Titans. In 1983, it was decreed that Robin should grow up and assume a crime-fighting identity of his own—become his own man, as befitted the leader of the mighty Titans. He left Batman’s world to assume the name, costume, and persona of Nightwing. Gerry Conway and Don Newton replaced him with a second Robin, Jason Todd, whose biography was virtually identical to that of Dick Grayson. Why not? Gerry and Don were not trying to innovate, they were simply filling a void. The assignment they were given was simple: Provide another Robin. Quickly and with as little fuss as possible.

In 1986, Max Allan Collins inherited the Batman writing assignment and told his editor he had an idea for an improved Jason Todd. Make him a street kid, Collins said. Make his parents criminals. Have him and Batman on opposite sides at first. Sounded fine to the editor and, since DC was in the middle of a vast, company-wide overhaul of storylines anyway, Collins was told to go ahead. I was the editor; I did the telling. And I’d do it again, today. Collins’s Robin was dramatic, did have story potential. But readers didn’t take to him. I don't know now, and will probably never know why. Jason was accepted as long as he was a Dick Grayson clone, but when he acquired a distinct and, Collins and I still believe, more interesting backstory, their affection cooled. Maybe we—me and the writers who followed Collins—should have worked harder at making Jason likeable. Or maybe, I guessed, on some subconscious level our most loyal readers felt Jason was a usurper. For whatever reason, Jason was not the favorite Dick had been. He wasn’t hated, exactly, but he wasn’t loved, either. Should we write him out of the continuity? It didn’t seem like a bad idea, and when we thought of the experiment that became the telephone stunt, Jason seemed the perfect subject for it. The mechanics were pretty simple: we put Jason in an explosion and gave the readers two telephone numbers they could call, the first to vote that Jason would survive the blast, the second to vote that he wouldn't.

It was successful—oh my, yes. We expected to generate some interest, but not the amount or intensity we got. As soon as the final vote was tallied—5271 for Jasons survival, a deciding 5343 against—the calls began. For most of three days, I talked to journalists, disc jockeys, television reporters. We got a lot of compliments. They ranged from a critic’s liking our stunt to the participatory drama of avant garde theater to the brilliant comedy team of Penn and Teller expressing mock envy that we beat them to “the kill-your-partner-900-number scam.” But then came the backlash, ugly and, to me at least, totally unexpected: one reporter claimed that the whole event had been rigged—that, in fact, we had decided on Jason’s demise ahead of time and staged an elaborate charade; a teary grandmother said that her grandchildren loved Jason and now we’d killed him; several colleagues accused us of turning our magazines into a “Roman circus.” Cynical was a word used. And exploitive. Sleazy. Dishonorable. Wait a minute, I wanted to reply. Jason Todd is just a phantom, a figment of several imaginations. No real kid died. No real anything died. It’s all just stories—

I would have been wrong. Batman, and Superman, and Wonder Woman and their supporting casts are quite a bit more than “just stories” if, by “stories,” we mean ephemeral amusements. They’ve been in continuous magazine publication for a half-century, and they’ve been in movies, and television shows, and in novels, and on cereal boxes and T-shirts and underwear and candy bars and yo-yos and games—thousands of ventures. For fifty years. Fifty years! Although the circulation of our magazines is relatively modest, these characters have been so enduring, so pervasive, they have permeated our collective consciousness. Everybody recognizes them. They are our post-industrial folklore and, as such, they mean much more to people than a few minutes’ idle amusement. They’re part of the psychic family. The public and apparently callous slaying of one of their number was, to some, a vicious attack on the special part of their souls that needs awe, magic, heroism.

We had promised to abide by the telephone poll, and we would. But within a few days, it became apparent that we’d have to begin growing another Robin. We had forgotten that Batman exists outside the pages of our comics, is not the exclusive property of DC’s editorial staff; because he is both popular and imperishable, hundreds of others have some legitimate interest in him (not the least of whom are the readers who, for one reason or another, had missed the voting.) Our medium may have kept him alive, but others have added immeasurably to his success. When we began hearing from them, the consensus was that a Batman without a Robin wasn't quite a Batman. I wasn’t surprised. Nor did I disagree, particularly. So our problem became: how to create Robin III without generating the hostility that plagued poor Jason. Dick Grayson was the answer. If, as we thought, readers felt Jason had somehow usurped Dick’s place, then we should link the new Robin to Dick—give Robin III his predecessor’s stamp of approval. One writer had done almost all of the Dick Grayson material DC had published for a decade: Marv Wolfman, co-creator (with George Pérez) of the New Teen Titans. That made Mary the first, and really only, choice to undertake the task of giving Batman a new helper. And if we were using Marv, why not have some of the story happen in the pages of THE NEW TITANS, which he was already writing, and thus be able to take advantage of the very considerable talents of Marv's collaborator on the Titans, George Pérez? George volunteered to co-plot the story with Mary and do layouts on the TITANS episodes, and editor Mike Carlin enlisted Tom Grummett and Bob McLeod to complete George's graphics work. I asked the regular BATMAN artists, Jim Aparo and Mike DeCarlo, to handle the BATMAN issues. Finally, we chose a name for Robin III—Tim Drake—and, after a couple of editorial conferences, six gifted gentlemen retired to do what they do best.

The result seemed worthy of being collected between one set of covers, to be read as a graphic novel. We decided to do that and you’re holding the result. I hope you enjoy it. But please don’t think it’s the end of the Robin III saga. Dick Grayson’s lasted 50 years, after all, and Tim Drake does have his blessing.

Dennis O’Neil

April 1990

#scanned so you can read & interpret for yourself (sorry for the page quality this book is 30+ years old now...still a great intro though)#tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #batman #robin #batfam #i particularly like the part abt the heroes being psychic family/post-industrial folklore. agree. tho the jason stuff is a little agonizing #'i dunno why he was so unlikeable' meanwhile jim starlin interviews are like 'I wrote him unlikeable on purpose so they'd let me kill him'#not that jim starlin is the only reason some readers hated jason but it's like. c'mon...having writers who hate robin is certainly a factor #bonds: I knew it was you #batman: a lonely place of dying #dc comics #dennis o'neil #heroesriseandfall

114 notes · View notes

spookykoolkat · 1 year ago

Note

Plus Size!Metalhead!Reader x Eddie Munson smut idiots to lovers!

The reader is Robin’s best friend and has just moved back to Hawkins after studying abroad.

When she returns she is introduced to everyone and quickly becomes part of the gang. Eddie quickly falls for her as the two have quite a lot in common, however, he doesn’t act on his feelings as he thinks the reader is Robin’s girlfriend. Little does he know she has major feelings for him as well but she thinks him and Steve are together. Eventually they are forced to bunk together on a camping trip (orchestrated by Steve and Robin who have been dying for the two to finally admit their feelings) at first things are awkward between the two but they soon heat up into something neither of them expected.

the cabin in the woods - e.m. request*

main masterlist

an: just a story i tried to convey the best, about two very confused adults who don't really know how to communicate! i hope this does your idea justice it took me FOREVER i'm so sorry 😭 and its so long omg this is my longest work ever PLS I HOPE ITS NOT BORING THANK U FOR SENDING UR REQUESTS I LOVE THEM 🩷🩷 i'm also doing requests for kinktober if anyone wants to send them in :p thank u everyone to all of ur love on all of my fics u dont even Know how much it means to me 🥹

wc: 10.4K

warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of mutual pining, explicit thoughts, mentions of eddie and you wishing the other weren't gay, lots of mentions of sexualities, miscommunication, porn with a plot, p in v, (unprotected. do NOT do this), oral sex (m and f receiving), slight ass play, ownership, pet names (sweet girl, baby, princess, pretty, sweetheart, etc)

MINORS NOT WELCOME. DNI!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

IT WAS WEIRD BEING BACK IN HAWKINS, being back in the states in general felt like a culture shock. and disappointing. the euphoric feeling of learning and living in another country for a year was not comparable, and you promised your best friend robin that when you got back, you'd tell her all about it.

over the year you were gone for your studies, she told you about a few people she met while she was in high school, and had been with ever since. she was excited about bringing you to a party the night of your arrival so you could meet everyone, she said you were all she ever talked about, and how excited everyone was to meet you.

robin was insistent on your attendance, getting small hesitation on your part, and she swore up and down that you'd fit right in. you questioned her judgment sometimes, especially in women, but you had no other reason not to trust your best friend.

you and robin were complete opposites, you were the girl who liked metal, death metal, and occasionally rock music and she enjoyed the oldies, harboring weird talents and interests that you enjoyed learning about. but you clicked so well, meshed together in a way where you could never be separated.

it wasn't long before you arrived at her place, dressed and ready after hitting your house first, and was met with a lethal scream of your name and tears of joy. it didn't take long to catch up, talk, cry, and laugh so the minute robin decided it was time to go to this party, you guys drove into the city together.

"are you excited?!" she dragged as she noticed your fingers tap against your faded gray jeans that were maybe two sizes too bog, hanging low on your hips with the help of a belt.

"i'm fucking nervous." you admitted and ran your fingers through your hair.

"for what? dude, these are not people who need to be impressed. they're going to love you and i know it!" she exclaimed.

it was a bit before they drove past buildings, and turned into nothing until they pulled into a trailer park.

“eddie’s trailer was the destination party zone tonight, so, yeah.” robin said as she parked next to a van, presumably eddie’s. you weren’t one to judge a single person, especially not one you didn’t know, so you just nodded with a smile and stepped out of the car.

you adjusted your black tank top that, unlike your jeans, was maybe two sizes too small and hugged the curves and rolls of your body.

you liked the way you looked, your wrists covered in bracelets with studs and beads on them, your hair parted down the middle and frizzy from the hawkin’s heat. the makeup you had on was minimal, just black eyeliner smudged around your eyes and lipstick that was lined with black and filled in with a blood red.

robin was so drawn to you when she first met you. she thinks about it as the two wait at his front door, and how she was so lucky to meet you. to bring her out of her shell and be honest with herself.

she knew being with you meant zero judgment, and if someone dared to fuck with you or robin, robin knew you’d be quick to defend her with your life. you honestly reminded her a lot of eddie once she met him, telling him she had a friend that he would just love. he doubted it of course. eddie didn’t think there was another person like him that existed, impossible.

but robin knew, she believed she knew everything. and she made a small promise to herself that she’d help you find someone, even though you insisted on being happy alone. she knew it was true, but when she first met eddie she realized maybe she could play cupid when you came back into town.

“robin, did you bring the-” eddie said, opening the door, until he looked beside the skinny, jittery girl.

you didn’t blush at the unsaid compliment, you just watched as eddie looked over your full figure.

“eddie… you’re staring,” robin said, looking between you and eddie to make sure he wasn’t scaring you off. you just laughed a little.

you stuck your hand out and introduced yourself by your name, “i’m robin’s friend.”

he took it with grace and stuttered out a small hey, as normal as he could but it was indeed weird. eddie looked at robin, gleaming with pride, and he tried to put two and two together, failing miserably.

“friend?” eddie asked, looking between the two of you before letting go of your hand.

“yes idiot! she just moved back to hawkins, she’s the one i’ve been talking about!” robin said as she grabbed your hand and dragged you inside. you give him a smile, and a look over, going with your friend.

she’s the one i’ve been talking about. how could he be so stupid? he totally forgot about this girl he’d been hearing about. robin would go on and on about her friend coming back from another country, and how much she adored this friend and missed this friend and how badly she wanted the group to meet this friend.

he didn’t think too much about it, he didn’t want to assume. everyone knew robin played for the other team, so he wasn’t sure if you were her friend or her friend. so, he took advantage of the gray area and checked you out as robin introduced everyone to you. eddie saw how robin held her arm, close to her and tight.

he also tried to pay attention to the groups reactions, to see if maybe they had the same idea as him. he was a shit expression reader. he was going to feel bad about staring at this girl, imagining her in every way he could, if you were in fact robin’s girlfriend.

as the night went on, it seemed like it got more difficult. you kept seeing him stare at you sitting on the floor in between nancy and robin, he watched you as you drank and laughed and got to know the crowd that robin found herself in. you enjoyed everyone, nancy was such a nice girl to you, constantly asking if you needed anything and if you were okay.

you wondered if eddie would come over to you and maybe try to talk to you, but he just engaged in conversations with steve.

you got to know everyone, who was studying what, if they decided to go to college next fall or not, life plans and enjoying each other’s company. it wasn’t often you were alone, but the minute robin and nancy got up to get another drink from eddie’s fridge, he slithered his way to sit next to you.

“i was wondering when you were going to stop staring at me,” you spoke, turning your head as you sat crisscrossed in front of the small coffee table.

“i was trying to figure out, and i’m being honest here don’t laugh at me” he warned before speaking again, “if you were real.”

you laughed a bit more than you expected, feeling it in your tummy and he gave you a pout.

“and your conclusion?” you asked, taking a sip again.

“honestly? i’m not so sure yet.”

it was the beginning of long conversations, laughter, bonding, and hidden flirting. the two of you were dancing around each other, bouncing off of each other's wit and casual snarkiness.

it was fun, you could admit. and you finally assessed him, his faded metallica shirt was paired with black jeans that might’ve been tighter than yours, almost the same bracelets. his arms were covered in aimless tattoos that were small and looked like they were just drawn on from how many he had. you loved them.

“i love metallica,” you murmur against your cup, indulging in eddie while everyone talks amongst themselves and listens to the music.

it was loud enough to not hear your conversation if you were someone else, that you were grateful for. you watched as he sat up a bit to glance at his shirt, and gave you a nervous smile.

“wha- oh, right yeah. me too, i can play a few songs on my guitar actually.” he tried to impress after remembering the shirt he was wearing, and it worked. you were a sucker for guitar players, especially ones who preferred metal and rock.

“oh yeah? are you in a band or something?” you laughed softly, there was no way he was actually in one because it’d make it ten times harder not to want to jump his bones. “what guitar?” you asked excitedly.

you appreciated the instrument even with no knowledge about it and would appreciate it more seeing him play it for you. eddie liked seeing the excitement on your face, the way you got closer to him sent excitement somewhere else for him.

“i am actually, maybe i can play for you one day.” he teased and finally, you blushed.

the way his eyes met yours made you want to melt into it, have his gaze consume you whole. he was everything, he was adorable, handsome, sexy, attractive, funny, and god was he charming. he didn’t even have to do much to send you pining after him.

“it’s on my wall, in my room if you wanna see it,” he suggested and you raised an eyebrow, too distracted to remember what he was talking about and he notices, “the guitar, i don’t use it often but i think this one time is an exception, afterall you might just be my favorite guest. wouldn’t want any of my hospitality going to someone like steve,” he joked and steve whipped his head around.

“i heard that, asshole.” steve replied over the music, sending you to laugh before looking back to eddie who blew him an exaggerated kiss.

“i’d love to see it,"

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you were staying for good, which meant you had all the time in the world with eddie when he wasn’t working at his uncle’s mechanic shop. he would brag about being the one to take over, shaking his head at the thought of going to college.

you didn’t mind though, you told him that college isn’t for everyone and it’s okay going a different route despite ghosted voices that were haunting him about it.

he admired the fact that you were so similar to him, finding himself getting lost in you when you explained the lore of texas chainsaw massacre and actually being interested in it too. he heard everything you said, listened to every story you told about being in france, and helped you through whatever hump you were trying to get over.

you didn’t believe robin when she said he was actually the only other guy she got along with besides steve, and how she believed it would be the same for you. she was right, but you’d never tell her.

and she’d never tell you her true intentions by introducing you to eddie, and how she wished that maybe he’d open you up enough to the idea of possibly dating again. but, she didn’t really think it through. she figured maybe she’d let the universe handle it, but then started to notice the dynamic of your idea forming about eddie.

you found yourself at his trailer a lot, smoking his weed that he offered and drinking, watching movies and enjoying the company of one another while robin was busy.

he gave you soft touches here and there, let you sleep in his bed with him when you were too high to drive back, gave you massages, picked you up when you needed a ride. he was there when you needed him, there at any moment you called for him.

and so were you. you really liked eddie, the feeling weighing on you everytime you let yourself take his flirting and touches for more than what they were. you felt guilty for lying next to him or on him when you passed out during a movie, you felt guilty for thinking about his lips on yours and on your body.

the only problem that kept the two of you from indulging in the fantasies you both had was… you strongly believed that eddie was in a relationship with steve harrington. and as for eddie, he was fully convinced that you were off limits because you were going with robin buckley.

and this was the problem robin worried about.

you knew robin was lesbian of course, and she knew you were bisexual. unfortunately, eddie knows robin is lesbian but figured you were lesbian as well. he couldn’t shake the feeling of craving you and wanting you the way he has, and he felt guilty because in his mind you were robin’s girl.

so, all of his dirty thoughts and ideas about you felt wrong, and instantly tried to bury it when one night he found himself wishing you liked men.

but where was the harm in imagination? eddie was so infatuated with you that his self indulgent behavior was harmless. he knew he couldn’t have you, he knew you only saw him as a friend and that was that. but he was so wrong, and so were you.

he thought of you daily, and in ways that were almost embarrassing. he craved you, the desire and want he had every time you were near was almost uncontrollable.

you never asked anyone if eddie was gay, to be fair. it wasn’t your place to ask of course, plus you figured if eddie was into you he’d just simply tell you.

you just assumed, and the way that he and steve interacted all the time made you think maybe they were romantically involved. eddie’s teasing and flirting towards steve made you wonder if eddie was completely off limits, but affirmed it when eddie would plant a wet kiss on steve’s cheek.

you didn’t know, but that was just what eddie did.

eddie was a flirt, to everyone but robin in their group. even if it was out of nowhere, that’s just how eddie carried himself. of course in your mind, you hoped that he was at least bisexual.

you felt incredibly guilty about that too because regardless if he was bisexual, in your mind he and steve were still a couple. to not only hope he turned out to be bisexual, but to fantasize about someone else’s partner was just incredulous to think about.

but there you were. daydreaming about the guy who sat next to you almost every other day on his couch after work, and would have to snap back into reality when he asked you if you wanted to smoke.

it was a routine.

you’d say yes, the two of you would smoke and listen to his cassettes, talk about urban legends and myths, movies and how you always felt like you could act—you couldn’t—and topics that seemed to flow between the two of you.

it was easy with him, and you appreciated it.

the only thing hard about the relationship you hold with him is that you’re thinking of being face down for him on your bed with your ass pushing against him. you were fighting every nasty thought of your friend, wondering how he’d feel inside of you and if he’d be able to make you cum.

the attraction the two of you had for each was obvious, so obvious that the entire group were pointing it out to each other.

robin needed a plan. and quickly, because she couldn’t fathom another minute of you denying yourself as well as him just because he thinks you’re lesbian. she didn’t want to address it actually, she wanted to scheme and plot. better to make them think it was coincidental when really she had something to prove.

robin felt weird about plotting a set up for you, especially because robin knew there was obviously a better and more logical way to approach this miscommunication between you and eddie. so, in hopes of setting the two of you up, robin goes to steve with her probably weird borderline disturbing idea.

turns out, steve and robin felt the same way. watching you two was just as painful for them as it was for the two of you. thus, mission cabin in the woods was put into place.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you regretted this terribly. you weren’t an outdoorsy person even though the place you were staying was like a cabin. just a cabin in the woods, six young adults, left to their own devices for two days. it wasn’t the absolute worst you soon found out, the cabin was right near a lake that had a long extended pier, trees and dirt and grass surrounding you, and a large bonfire opportunity behind the cabin, right before you went to the lake.

it was more modern than anything, as everyone settled in and went around the cabin, pairs started calling dibs on the three rooms, leaving you and eddie the last pair to bunk together.

“robin, i thought we were going to stay together? what the hell?” you whispered as you grabbed her arm to drag her down the hall away from everyone. you already settled in while eddie quietly took his things to his side of the room.

“oh! um, right,” she didn’t think of what would happen after phase one of her and steve’s plan, nervously glancing at steve who was peeking at the girls from his door frame.

“steve, i mean you know steve, he needed to talk to me about how he keeps getting rejected by every woman, like ever. he was a little upset about nancy and jonathan rooming together.”

she was lying, and you followed her awkward gaze to steve, when he immediately withdrew himself from peeking and behind the wall. but you heard a small gasp from that room since it wasn’t too far from where you and nancy stood at the stairs.

it was steve’s gasp, because when he rested his back against the wall and opened his eyes again, eddie was standing there in front of him with his arms crossed.

“dude, what the fuck,” steve said, and eddie shook his head.

“i should be saying that to you. care to tell me why on earth i’m rooming with her?” eddie asked condescendingly, expecting the truth.

“what’s wrong with that? i thought you guys were friends. robin, she needed my advice to-”

“i’m going to ask you again.” eddie said, “why am i not rooming with you?”

steve looked defeated and he hasn’t even tried, but he knew if he gave no excuse it would be worse than a shitty one. he was also a little scared that robin would become unfathomably upset if steve told eddie what was really going on.

and so would you, so before either of the two could mutter out another lie while you and eddie interrogate them unknowingly at the same time, nancy ended up coming out of her room with a grin,

“i need to go swimming, come on!”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the entirety of the day you spent at the cabin on your first day of a three day trip, you spent at the lake. not by yourself of course, you and the other two girls swam and tanned as the guys sat in their swim trunks, drinking beers.

to make things more interesting, the three of you decided to have fun diving off the pier and into the lake, splashing each other, and playing marco polo.

now the three of you swam around each other, keeping yourselves afloat to talk and converse. the conversation started about you being in france again, and if you met anyone there, if you had a french lover for the semester or if you were too busy with your head in books.

“there was this one girl, god she was like five foot eleven and just, she was so fucking gorgeous. we met at a cafe and we talked for like a few days until she was like, ‘well i don’t really think i’m gay,’ and i was just,” you explained to the girls and paused. “we kissed and i guess she wasn’t into it so i never heard from her again.”

“you’ve lived like ten lives.” robin deadpanned and it made a laugh bubble to your throat.

“so you’re bisexual?” nancy inquired, genuinely. “you know i thought you were straight actually.”

“yeah i thought i was a lesbian for like six years but then i started dating this guy during high school but i still liked girls so, figured i was bisexual.” you said with a small laugh, and the girls smiled at you.

“so, do you think eddie knows?’ nancy asked the two of you as you guys kept afloat in the water and you raised your eyebrow, looking between robin, nancy, and even glancing over your shoulder to the guys who were now smoking so you could look at eddie.

only for eddie to already be looking at you while you swam in the water. a blush creeped onto your skin, thanking god that your slight sunburn covered it.

“knows what?” you asked.

“that you’re not actually a lesbian,” nancy laughed and you heard robin wince and say nancy’s name.

“what?” you couldn’t help yourself from the high octave in your voice, and nancy looked surprised.

“she didn’t know, nance.” robin said bleakley and nancy mouthed a small sorry to her.

“explain. now.” you demanded, swimming your way to the pier to pull yourself up and sit on the ledge. the girls followed you but stayed in the lake.

“well, see, he kind of thinks that we’re together, like girlfriends. and well, fuck,” robin said as she looked behind you and hit her wet hand against her hand.

“what?” you asked worriedly and saw a forced smile creep onto her lips.

“hey!! eddie!” robin said dramatically and you looked behind you to see eddie, standing in nothing but his black swim trunks and right in back of you. so much as to where you were practically face to face with his groin. you whipped around quickly.

eddie was watching you all day. he couldn’t help but watch you. your bikini set didn’t help him either, steve actually had to tell him to close his mouth when you pulled yourself up from out of the water and onto the wooden pier, every movement causing a bounce and jiggle in your body and sending an ache to his cock.

he was thinking of you so impurely, so twisted that he didn’t even feel like he was being himself. he didn’t understand why he was so obsessed with you, why everything about you made him want you even more.

“well apparently those two assholes have suffered major injuries to their legs because they both asked me to come over here and tell you two girls,” eddie said pointing with his index and middle finger at nancy and robin, “that you are wanted as of now.”

you didn’t bother turning around to peer up at him again, instead you just watched the girls look at you, then at each other, then swimming to the stairs of the pier. eddie takes a seat next to you, legs dangling off the pier. you feel the burn of his body heat sitting right next to you, and you look down to see the distinction between your thighs and eddie’s.

he’s like half your size.

you were nervous, you knew that you were a bigger girl and didn’t care, but suddenly you felt like you were taking up too much space. but he sat this close to you for a reason, your thighs spilled over to touch his at this point.

“is it just me or are they acting reaaaaaaaaally weird?” eddie asked, peeling his eyes from the crease between your tummy touching your thigh, and how the bikini bottom you wore pressed into your hip, to robin and steve. he needed to distract himself before he felt himself forming a tent in his not so stretchy swimming trunks.

you watched robin and steve from across the lake, sitting in lounge chairs and talking, while looking at the two of you. you tried to think back on the way robin had been acting this last month, wondering if she was showing any signs of suspiciousness to understand why she had been so secretive.

“he kind of thinks we’re together, like girlfriends,”

you were thinking back to finding out you weren’t sharing a room with your best friend, and instead the man you’ve thought about between your legs.

she was fucking lying.

“right…. hold that thought, actually.” you said blankly, lifting yourself from sitting on the wooden edge of the pier and fast walking your way to robin’s seat.

one, it was hard to sit next to eddie without being awkward about his presence. and two, this would be your only time to talk to robin about whatever she had up her sleeve.

eddie watched you walk off, how could he not, and watched as the pumpkin orange bikini get taken in between your asscheeks. he was definitely enjoying this view of your curvy silhouette, the rolls of your back, where the strings of your bikini bit into. he was enjoying all of this, and he immediately felt his cock harden again as he let himself consume all of you, and the way your thighs jiggled with every step.

eddie could say he wouldn’t know what love is, which would be true, but whatever it was, he felt it when you came into the picture. he had crushes before, girls in the classes he barely went to, his newest supplier, a girl he made eye contact with once. but you, you torched his body into flames with every touch and laugh. he was consumed by you, his mind only thinking of ways to make you smile, to make you happy. he remembered your favorite foods, what color you chose to wear out more, and even your own childhood crushes.

he wanted to be buried in them, to feel the way they suffocate him when he’s face to face with your thick core, spreading your lips to taste all of you. he couldn’t name a person that made him feel like you do, and he couldn’t imagine anyone else being made for him like you were.

knowing eddie’s eyes were on you, you ignored it as you pulled robin up from her seat.

“you were lying! steve didn’t fucking need your help, you were trying to set me up with eddie!” you hushed out, your cheeks hot.

“what?! i would ne-” you tilted your head and looked at her blankly.

“fuck okay, fine but steve helped me too!” your head whipped to steve who glared at robin and held his hands up in surrender.

“why would you help?” you asked, confused as ever now. you looked between the two as they looked at each other as if they know something you don’t.

“i mean, why would you want to set us up? eddie’s gay!” you said, as a matter of fact.

“and he’s dating you is he not?” you asked questionably, pointing to steve and now as you understood their faces more.

“what? no! you thought he was dating me?” steve exasperated from his seat, which wasn’t that far from where you stood.

“eddie’s not gay… that’s why we tried to um, set you guys up because both of you thought the other one was dating us. so, we took it upon ourselves.” robin explained and you crossed your arms over your chest to put a hand on your forehead.

“why would you think me and eddie were dating?” steve kept on, and robin shushed him as she looked back to you.

“i mean does it seem like we’re dating? like, am i-”

“steve. not now.” robin said curtly and you tapped your forehead.

“eddie’s… not gay?” you whispered to yourself and looked back to him, only to see him standing behind you.

“you thought i was gay?” eddie asked, finding it a little funny. he was amused, at least. not angry.

“um, steve i need, uh,” robin said and looked at steve. “that thing, you know like that thing i was talking about that time-”

“just go!” you grumbled, keeping your eyes on eddie as you heard their footsteps falter.

the only sound you can hear is nature, the lake, and your breathing. the sun was going down already, and the pink hue of the sunset coated the sky, and glimmered on eddie’s face. he looked beautiful, his curls were tighter given the lake water from earlier, dry now and his pale body was glistening with a small sheen of sweat from the humidity.

“you thought i was dating robin.” you said to defend yourself and his eyes went wide.

“you’re not dating robin? but she’s been like talking about you since forever and the way she talks about you━wait so you’re straight?” he said once he remembered what he was talking about.

“well no, i’m bisexual but, still like men.” you smiled.

there was a shift in the air once those words left your mouth, and when eddie’s eyes fell over your body from your face to your toes, you felt your core clench around nothing. there was something in his eyes that you’d never seen before, knowingly at least, and when your eyes raked over his body, you noticed a bulge in his trunks.

now you felt bare to him, only in two pieces of small cloth that covered your most vulnerable areas. something that eddie noticed too, knowing that he could get you naked bare for him with a pull and a tug on your swimsuit.

“so you’re single?” you blurted and bit your lip.

eddie smirked at the question, and stepped a little closer to you.

“and ready to mingle, baby.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

it was fairly surprising that everyone decided to shower and settle for watching a movie on the tv in the cozy living room. the fireplace was lit, only because it was practically freezing inside.

you were the last one to shower and after you finally got dressed in the humid bathroom, you ringed your hair dry with your towel and shook the strands apart. you decided that you were ready to hit the sack, wanting to get as much rest as possible before you find yourself out of breath and passing out from heat exhaustion the next day while you’re on your hike with the group. they wanted to actually try the whole campsite thing, roasting marshmallows and drinking water out of a can, meanwhile you just wanted to go dip in the lake again.

you decided to say goodnight to everyone who was downstairs, half already snoring, sprawled out on the floor. one person you didn’t see was eddie, who you actively looked for until you guessed he was in the restroom. your heart was already in your chest as your feet hit each stair, only taking you further to having to spend eight hours in the same bed with eddie munson.

maybe you were nervous. the thought of feeling this guy lay next to you in bed was putting a flutter in your tummy, everything felt like it flipped upside down when the confusion was cleared up between the two. no one ever made you feel like this, not even the six foot straight french girl who seduced you.

before you could even open the door to the room you were hoping that you’d be asleep by the time he came upstairs, just so that the ache between your legs would finally settle down. but to your dismay, you opened the door to eddie, shirtless and laying on his back over the comforters.

he sat up without a second thought, and you almost got whiplash with how quickly he moved and looked at you.

“i can take the floor if you want,” suddenly you felt small. it was a weird feeling, but walking into this room to sleep with him only felt like it was an invitation for more. and you wanted more.

“no it’s okay, i’m just ready for bed.” you said and smiled, closing the door and going to the right side of the bed.

“can i turn this off?” you asked looking over your shoulder just to see him looking at the bare skin of your back that your skimpy little shirt didn’t cover.

“you can do whatever you want, princess.” he muttered under his breath and you turned your head, smiling and pulling the beaded string until you heard a click. his lamp was still on as you pulled your legs into the lifted covers, sliding down to lay on your side and face the opposite direction of eddie.

eddie on the other hand was thinking of what to say as he turned his lamp off, doing the same maneuver you did to get comfortable, except he was facing you. staring at your back again, his eyes went lower until the blanket was resting at the curve of your waist. he noticed where your shirt copied the and molded your rolls and back.

eddie felt like now it was a free-for-all. knowing you’re not tied down to someone, and knowing you were still very attracted to the opposite sex.

“steve and robin tried to set us up didn’t they?” he asked you from behind, his voice still very close to you.

“they did,” you confirmed, softly.

“did you want to be set up with me?” he asked, a little nervous.

“if i tell you then robin and steve would be right.” you said and turned awkwardly to face him, now eye to eye. he couldn’t help but notice the way your tits pressed together.

“who said we have to tell them the truth?”

his hand didn’t waste a second to press into your cheek, his thumb rubbing over your lips to trace them.

“you really want me?” eddie asked.

there it was, the shift in the dark air that was only scarcely lit by the full moon flooding in through the bare window.

you didn’t answer, you only shifted from your position to your knees, moving the blanket off of eddie to see his pale white skin, and straddle his hips when he laid on his back. your hands moved to his chest to steady yourself and his hands fell naturally to the dip of your curve, gripping into the fat of your hips.

he tilted his head to look up at you, your hair cascading down your shoulders to create a sort of shield around your face. he couldn't help but tug at a strand,making you smile.

you just decided to go for it. all the nervousness and teasing and flirting built up to this, when you leaned down to press your lips into his.

it was odd because eddie pictured this moment just like this, with you straddling him in just shorts and a loose fitting tank, watching your soft lips come closer to his with your eyes closed. you were so fucking cute, and he tried to constrain himself from going wild by digging into your skin.

the kiss was soft first, eddie let you move your lips on his before he found a rhythm and moved with you, gentle, soft, teasing kisses to test the waters. you were growing wet with every minute you fixed your lips to his, using one hand to put right under his jaw, rubbing his throat with your fingers.

you thought maybe eddie was just enjoying the kiss way too much as you got a little more messy, the two of you giving hard kisses, but the minute you felt something poking your inner thigh, you realized you had been grinding down on him the entire time.

you pulled away first, leaving him just as breathless as you, but he followed you and sat up with you, chasing your lips. he had a dumb grin on his face, looking over your disheveled look to see where you two met. god, she looks fucked out already.

“eddie?” you hummed, letting your fingers trace the small tattoos and the ones that lead to his manhood.

“fuck, yes baby?” he breathed and watched you take your plush lip between your teeth and sit back fully on his clothed cock. he let out a strained groaned and it brought a smile to your face.

“can i suck your dick?,” you asked unabashedly, “i’ve always wanted to, wanted to taste you,”

eddie was practically already close to exploding in his pants, and you felt the throbbing of his cock against your ass now that he’s fully hard. you were sure that a wet stain would be left on his light colored pajama pants.

“you can do whatever you want with me doll, i’m for your pleasure,” he said as he watched you slide back down between his knees, eddie spreading them so you had more room to lay between him, and you rubbed at the skin above the hem of his pants to admire the growing bulge that was asking for relief, pleading.

“you’re so fucking pretty, baby, can’t fuckin’ believe i could’ve had you since the beginning,” he said in a hushed voice.

you didn’t take long to drag his pants down to his ankles letting eddie kick them off as your eyes stayed pointed at his cock. it looked almost painful, for you and him. he was throbbing, his cock jerking against his abdomen. you salivated, looking at him as you grabbed his shaft at the base and softly stroked him lazily, looking at every vein, every little freckle, and the waay his slit dripped with beads of pre cum.

it was a sight to see. you heard eddie’s low moans as he sat up against the headboard, getting a view of you jerking him.

“you’re dick is so pretty,” you murdered as you watched your fingers tease his slit to use the precum as some sort of lubricant, massaging the head. he let you take full control of him, and the way he tries to buck into your fist made your cunt clench around nothing.

“baby, please,” he begged as you kept your lazy pace up. he was craving your mouth and before he could ask again, you directed his tip into your mouth to let your tongue swirl and play with the angry head.

“ah, fuck-shit,” he hissed, finally feeling your mouth envelop him entirely, not faltering when you tried to stuff as much of his as you possibly could. you hollow your cheeks as you sucked him gently twice, releasing him with a pop, and smiling.

he was focused on only you, not the laughter that came from downstairs, not the crickets singing outside of the window, only the way you went back down to take him in your mouth, reaching the back of your throat this time and gagging.

“my fuck- fuck oh my god,” he strained, letting his hands find your hair to get a better view of your face.

“so fucking good, taking my dick so well baby,” he praised and you moaned with your mouth still taking all of him, keeping the steady pace of bobbing, up and down his shaft with a hand wrapped around his girth, following the same motion of your mouth.

it was a euphoric feeling eddie had, to see his crush be the one to take, or try to take all of him. the girl he’d dream about, think about going down on, was laying between his legs playing with his cock like it is your favorite thing to do.

and slowly, it was becoming your favorite thing. your air was coming in through your nostrils as you cupped his balls, using the slobber that was falling down his cock to massage and fondle them as you flattened your tongue under the base of his shaft, forcing yourself to take all of him. he was trying to cover his moans with pants, but it wasn’t happening..

“fuck, just like that, you’re fucking filthy,” he said sitting up fully now so the top of your head was touching his belly button, still letting your drool and spit create a mess under your hands. you were loving this even when your jaw was crying, you liked being the center of attention for eddie.

you released him again with a long string of spit connecting from your lips to the head of his cock, sitting up on your knees to become eye level with him, still using the spit to jerk him. your grip tightened, loosened, and teased around his red tip to watch his buck, and jerk his body to you.

“need you to fuck me, please,” you asked politely, the spit still on your chin, your eyes watery and your nose a little runny. taking all of him was impossible for you, maybe with his help he’d be able to squeeze the rest of him down your throat to make room, but that was for another time.

eddie’s eyes were on yours, then back between your two bodies to see how your hand worked against him, he felt the heat building up in his stomach, feeling the strings snapping with every stroke.

before he could even release, he grabbed your wrist and halted your movements, using your vulnerability to flip you on your back, gripping your wrists beside your head.

“so you do want me?” he queried, and you giggled.

“no eddie, of course i don’t want you, i’m totally not soaking my panties right now,” you said unbelievably sarcastic as he moved to kiss your cheeks, your neck, licking your jawline and kissing you once more on your lips before he straddle you.

“you’re gonna lay there, your hands up just like this, and you’re gonna be a good girl and take it, yeah?” he shifted, his voice dark and his eyes pitch black as he grinds his naked cock into your thin shorts.

“eddie,” you pleaded, not wanting to keep your arms in the fixed position he held them in.

“need you out of these fucking clothes now,” he said and immediately yanked your shorts and panties down, moving to your shirt.

“take it off for me,” he encouraged and you did, reaching your tank and arching your back to get rid of it. he marveled at your complete nakedness, spreading your legs to situate himself between them. lifting your legs in the air while spreading them, eddie leaned back to take a mental picture of the way your pussy was dripping for him. slick sliding between the cheeks of your ass, over your hole and onto the bed sheets.

“this all for me? no one else?” he asked as he tugged on his cock, stroking himself.

“yes, you, only you, please,” you were bracing for the impact of his hardness pressing and stretching you out, but instead you felt the pads of his fingers trace down your tits, to your belly, to your fupa, and spreading the fat of your pussy lips to see all of you completely.

what he conjured up in his mind was nothing near the actual sight. it was breathtaking, the way your hair fell into a ring around your head, how your tits moved and jumped with every movement you made, the way your belly creased and curved with your legs mid air, the way your thighs looked so meaty with his inbetween. this was heaven, and you were god.

he watched you completely as he sat back on his achilles, your legs still spread for him like the good girl you were, and teasing your clit.

“i need to taste you,” eddie groaned, taking the wetness from your clenching hole up to your clit, rubbing smooth circles.

“eddie, no fuck, please i wanna be full, please,” you moaned, louder than you intended, “you’re just so fucking big, and fucking pretty i just need t’ feel you, need all of you please eddie, give it to me,”

he’d never seen you so fucking responsive, so vocal with him. he was remembering the way your voice dripped with urgency, and seduction. he couldn’t ever tell you no, even in circumstances of being fully clothed and feet away from each other.

“just a taste, please baby,” he bargained, too distracted with the way your cunt sounded as he plays with your pussy. he was teasing your hole at this point, threatening to let you feel the stretch of one finger until he got too impatient to wait for your answer. he quickly dove down onto his stomach, letting his arms hook around your thighs and latching onto your cunt like a fucking bottle.

“you-what the fu-, my god,” you tried to spit it out, but fuck his tongue swirling around your clit and the way his fingers kept your lips spread made you grind against his hand, moving your hands from where eddie told you to keep them and into his curly hair before he pulled up and landed a small slap on your pussy. he watched in enjoyment as it jiggled.

“what’d i tell ya, keep those fucking hands right there baby, be good for me yeah?” he breathed, going back down to lay on his stomach, arms hooked even tighter now. Your hands were thrown up above your head, gripping onto the edge of the bed to stop yourself from yanking his long hair.

“eddie, please, fuck,” you moaned out, the feeling of his finger inching inside you was a fucking tease.

“shit, didn’t know you’d be this tight for me, needa stretch you a little bit, that okay?”

“yes, fuck eddie it’s okay, just, fuck i need more,” you found yourself out of breath, eddie’s arm reaching from your thigh to toy with your nipple, watching every reaction he pulled from you.

“pretty fucking pussy baby, look at you, taking my fingers so good for me,” he continued with the praises, the small words as he released your clit to focus on the way you were sucking his fingers, your walls gripping him tight.

“fuck baby, cum for me, need to taste more of you,” he groaned, unable to help himself when his puts you back into the position of having your calves resting on his shoulders. until he folds you even more with his large hands, to where your knees are touching your shoulders, or at least as far as he could bend you to his preferred shape with your belly in the way. but he liked it, he loved seeing you so mendable for him, pushing your limits of how much you can take.

he wanted you to be pon full display for him, being able to see both holes shine with your wetness.he practically held your ankles bound together to push against your chest, going back down for the third time to watch your cunt spread for him like this, to watch how you leaked down to your asshole.

he licked a wide stripe from your clit to your asshole, licking and spitting on your tight hole to start rubbing his thumb to create a ring of spit on it.

“tell me you want me, princess,” he ordered, eyes trained on the sight in front of him.

“eddie i want you, fuck, fu-,” you breathed and tried to gasp for air, “need it,”

“so good baby, look at you holding those pretty legs for me, let me eat you right,” you didn’t even notice your hands went from the edge of the bend to your legs, holding yourself spread open just for him. If anyone walked in right now, they’d see everything.

the way you were laid for him made you wetter by the second, never being folded or manhandled this way, but as he grabs the cheeks of your ass to move and spread them, he spits on your cunt again and goes back to brutally assaulting your oversensitive bud.

that pressure on your spine was familiar, and the way you felt tingles spread from your inner thighs to the rest of your body, even your legs going weak as you struggled to keep your eyes on his. it was beautiful, mesmerizing even the way he ate your pussy. it was pornographic, the slurping and wet sounds were only growing louder as eddie shook his head, his ose rubbing against your clit when he goes to lick and fuck your hole with his tongue at the same time.

“i’m, cum, gonna-fuck eddie, im fuck-” you couldn’t even get it out before your eyes were clenched, your pussy pulsing and throbbing, pushing all of your release out of your hole where eddie was to lick up every drop.

the moans were eccentric, he’d never heard you this way and seeing you come undone because of him made his cock scream for touch. it was something he could listen to for hours, only wanting to finger fuck you and eat your sweet cunt just so he could listen to the little noises that made him feral.

“need to feel you sweet girl, let me fill this pussy,” he lets your legs fall from where they rested after you went slack during your orgasm, letting your feet plant on the bed bent at the knees.

“can’t fucking think when you’re looking at me like that, princess, do you want me to cum already?” he smiled, watching you watch him with pure adoration and desire, not seeing him as a freak or a lowlife.

he saw your softness in your eyes, soothing a part of him that has never been healed until now.

“please, eddie i want you to make me cum again,” you gasped, lifting your head a little to look over your stomach as much as you can, now letting your eyes lazily travel between eddie’s eyes and where he prodes your entrance with his tip.

he took pride in the way he made you feel, how you looked sweaty and cockdrunk already. he couldn’t get enough of your frizzy hair surrounding you, and the smell of your shampoo mixing with sweat.

“can’t believe you want me, you’re unbelievable,” he said, letting his cock slip between the fat of your pussy lips. he wanted to be covered in you, all of you.

“you’re so big, eddie,” you groaned, feeling his length slip back and forth between your wetness.

“you want it, baby? want me to fuck this pretty pussy?” he asked, his palm flat against the bed next to your head, gripping his manhood with the other.

“fuck eddie, yes i need it, need all of you fuck,” you cried, gripping thr back of his neck to lift your head a little, watching your hips try to pushed down on him.

“let me watch you take it, yeah? wanna see you stretch just for me, only for me,”

he sat up on his knees and spread your legs, lifting them to rest on his shoulders as he admired your glistening sex. every part of you felt like you were burning up, all of your nerves subsiding and turning into pure greed for him, your want stronger than anything else.

he pushed in slowly, softly, watching the fat head slip and disappear into your tight hole.

“holyfuckingshit,” he rushed, watching you take him with a little resistance. it felt like a sting, but spreading into pleasure when you feel his balls against your asshole, filling you up completely.

now, he pressed into your legs to fold you again, this time he was able to watch you and force you to see him as he ruined you for anyone else.

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” he was out of breath already, the few slow strokes he did to the sound of your moans were to stretch you enough for him to lose control on you.

“so, f-, so fucking big,” you almost felt the wind get knocked out of you as you feel the loss of his warmth and length, only to be pushed back into you with more force. hitting the back of your cervix repeatedly, he was lazily smiling at the sounds you were making for him.

“oh baby, there you go, sound so fucking pretty for me,” he encouraged, letting his arms hook around your thighs for more leverage. he pushed you up a little further, almost bringing your chest to your chin as he pounded you harder.

“e-eh, fuck, eddie, s’ lot- it’s, oh eddie,” you cried watching him, grinning with an open mouth as he pants out groans and moans from the way you gripped his cock. felt better than anything and anyone he’s ever fucked.

“what, too much for my pretty girl? what happened?” he cooed, “thought you were, fucking hell, thought you could handle it,” he teased, taking your legs from his shoulders and using his hands to grip at your ankles, spreading further so that your legs are flailing in the air as he fucks you.

it was fucking intense. you couldn’t make sense of anything but him buried inside you, the way your cunt twitched and squeezed around him, and just how close you were to another orgasm.

“fuck, this pussy is mine.” he growled, gripping the fat of your stomach and waist, massaging, “always gonna be mine, sweet baby.”

“tell me, sweetheart . tell me whose pussy this is and i’ll, jesus fucking christ,” he was cut off by the clenching of your cunt, your hole rapidly pulsing as his two fingers dove down to play with your clit, rubbing in lazy fast circles.

“i’ll let you cum, tell me baby,” he urged and you tried to form the words, but nothing but sounds were coming out. the way your breasts jumped with every hard thrust, the way your fat jiggled on your thighs and tummy, how smooth and warm you felt under him, he was losing his mine.

not to mention your little sounds. the whimpers, the silent begging, the cries and gasps for air, it was going straight to his cock that was already starting to twitch from your eyes on him.

“it’s yours eddie, only you fill me up like this, please,” you finally mustered up the words, and you felt your own ball in your tummy growing bigger and bigger with the way you obsered eddie.

out of breath, his hair was clinging to his sticky face and his silver chains he never took off dangled above you. you watched as his muscles flexed and gripped the hard biceps when he pulled you in for an embrace, holding you as he fucked you.

your forehead rested against his right shoulder, peeking down to watch the sloppy mess between you grow wetter and messier. he looked down with you, pressing kisses into your damp hair and face.

“look at that baby, creamin’ all on my dick, my fucking messy girl,” he was aggressive, more aggressive than you’d ever seen him and so much more filthy than anyone could comprehend.

“look so good, fucking me,” you whispered, not even trying to get him to hear but he did. and he was encouraged by it, looking down again as he heard your labored pants in his ear. it was a beautiful sight.

your pussy lips enveloped him completely, letting his length reach the deepest parts of you over and over again. your arousal was dripping down your ass even more now that the two of your juices were mixing together, and forming a white-ish ring around his cock. and it just kept building with every thrust, sending your pussy to clench around him again.

your head was completely empty, nothing but the sensation of being filled to the brim over and over. it was incredible, and having already reached your peak once, to do it again was going to ruin you.

he was already ruining you, the way he turned so dirty so fast, how he spoke to you and watched you completely. he took all of you in as much as he could and let himself watch you undo beneath him.

“cum on my dick, baby,” he said, “pussy feels so fucking good sweet girl, don’t wanna fuckin’ pull out,” he sounded like he was slurring, and his fingers went faster on your overstimulating bud.

he felt the clench of your cunt at his words. “aw you like that? wanna be full of me? give you my babies?”

it was impossible not to scream no, tell him that mentioning babies was practically a threat to you, but the way he moaned those words as his hand went up to your throat just to grab a hold of you, and his other started to toy with your nipples.

“eddie,” you dragged, crying out with your back arching when you felt your buildup finally crash over him. you didn’t even need to tell him, he could feel it by the way you twitched and how you clenched so hard you practically pushed him out of you.

“fuck baby,” he said as he fucked your hole with his tip, the feeling of the curve and edge of the fat cockhead was a different sensation, and as he kept fucking you like that, slow and soft, you felt an oddity in your new buildup.

it was faster, stronger, and as he teased your hole with just his tip, you were cumming again, but this time it was wet. you could heard the small gush over his cock, coating him and his pelvic bone as he gleamed at the sight below him and feeling his own release starting to snap.

“fuck, eddie please, you fuck me so good,” you breathed as you pulled him flush to your chest, letting him still slip in and out of you lazily.

“fill me, please, fuck i don’t care i need it, mark me, make me yours. please, its your pussy please cum inside of me,” you whispered in his ear in a cry, scratching down his pale back as he moaned against you. the vibrations of his noises sent a tingle all over your body, your nipples hardening again.

the thought of eddie getting you pregnant was intense. for you at least, for eddie, he thought it was the best decision to ever make. of course he’d fill you up. why would he have the opportunity and not take it? he wanted everyone to see you knocked up with the freak’s baby, he wanted everyone to know even if you were too smart and too goddess looking for him, he had you.

it was even sending another pulse to your cunt, letting your weak and abused hole tiredly clench on his. you were losing your breath at this point, you’d never been fucked and pleasured like this ever, never for this long either.

he made sure to worship you, to cherish you, to make you feel sexy. he wanted to make you see what he saw, make you feel the way you made him feel. and this was it.

he was falling in love with you, the way he felt like you were made for him even now was pulling at his insides, pulling hard enough to finally let him still his hips inside of you and letting his cock twitch at the deepest part of your cunt.

“fucking, mine. my fucking pussy,” he groaned into your chest, your hands gripping in his hair and rubbing on his scalp.

“s’ yours, only yours,” you said softly as you felt his cock twitch even more, until he groaned and slipped out of you.

it was a new feeling, still feeling full even though all contact was lost between you two. still feeling warmth inside your cunt, until you felt the mixture of both of your releases leaking out of your hole and sliding down your ass. your eyes were closed after he got off of you, and you weren’t sure how he put on his clothes so fast but when the door opened again you saw him walk back in with a wet rag.

“baby?” he asked, craning his neck to see your face in the dark.

“mmm?” you hummed, still laying on your back after turning your head back to the ceiling.

“let me clean you up and we can go to bed, does that sound good princess?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed to separate your legs again.

you expected to feel the coldness of the rag, but you instead felt his fingers softly spreading your pussy lips apart and it sent a chill through you.

“look so good like this, fuck, i think i really truly want to die by your pussy. please?” he said, letting his finger dip his cum back inside of your whole.

“eddie,” you dragged, clenching your thighs together. he just smiled and chuckled a little.

“alright, lets get cleaned up and you can take my shirt,”

you lay there, trusting eddie as your eyes fluttered closed and felt him wipe between your legs and wipe your thighs, finding his shirt that he threw on a chair in the corner to bring back to you, but he already hears the soft snores coming from your body.

he shook you a little before you finally opened your eyes again and smiled sheepishly at him, before listening to his commands and following them, still half asleep.

all he asked was that you sit up and raise your arms, and he tugged the faded iron maiden shirt that was too big for him, but fitting just loose enough on you. before he could even pull the covers over you, still with your eyes closed, you gripped the blankets and pulled them over your bare legs up to your chin, and nestled into the softness.

eddie was a man who did his fair share of sleeping around, with all types of people, and he’s been with older, smaller, skinnier, taller, bigger. but being with you, watching you and being able to sleep next to you was a fucking blessing he didn’t deserve.

so he indulged in it, letting himself wrap you in his arms and holding you until you push him off because you’re too sweaty.

but you don’t do that. you let eddie hold you all night even after hardly any words were exchanged after. and in your dream that night besides dreaming about your future with eddie, was a dream of you thanking robin and steve for their ridiculously foul plan.

a ridiculous foul plan that worked.

642 notes · View notes