#but this seemed like the most logical explanation to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sttoru · 1 year ago

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𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐋𝐃-𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘 !

⟣ sypnosis. you were curious if your boyfriend would pass a ‘loyalty test’ that you’ve seen on social media and you decide to see for yourself, only to discover something much more . . . heartwarming.

⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. mostly tooth rotting fluff. talks about cheating / a sprinkle of trust issues from reader. the rest is satoru just being lovesick.

⟣ note. uhhhh… idk just a random idea i got at three am on a saturday night after being woken up from a nightmare >_< enjoy .

you don’t think satoru would actually ever cheat on you. your curiosity just got the best of you when you saw that one girl do a ‘loyalty test’ on her boyfriend. it was quite simple—testing if your partner would hand you their phone without being suspiciously defensive.

therefore you walked into satoru’s room and spotted him laying on his side, his back facing the door. he didn’t have any earphones in so you could hear the sounds of a movie playing on the phone he held in his hands.

he seemed so peaceful and content that you were already feeling bad for disturbing him with your silly test. you moved to sit on the edge of the bed and cleared your throat, making your presence known as if the sorcerer hadn’t sensed it moments ago.

“are you cheating on me?”

blunt and straight to the point.

satoru pauses the show on his phone and looks at you like you had said the most outrageous thing there is (to him, you really did). he drops the device on the bed and turns his body to face yours; “well—hello to you too, baby.”

he runs a hand through his hair before sitting up against the headboard with a raised brow, one hand cautiously reaching out for you. satoru was thinking about all the things he has said or done previously that could’ve possibly make you think he was screwing around behind your back. his mind worked fast, though he couldn’t come up with any logical explanation.

“answer my question please, ‘toru.” you mumble, feeling slightly guilty for doing this to your lover. you could see the confusion plastered on his face.

“no, i am not.” satoru shakes his head whilst holding your hand in his, thumb brushing against the back of it, “what makes you think that?”

you weren’t about to say ‘oh nevermind then! just a dumb thing that i saw on tiktok’—no, there was still one thing left to do. even if you’re so super sure that your boyfriend was hiding nothing from you. maybe there was an one in a million chance that your intuition was wrong. or maybe it’s just your underlying trust issues speaking.

“uhh, just wanted.. to check.. i guess?” you clear your throat and take a deep inhale before putting your hand out to satoru, palm up.

the white-haired sorcerer looks from your hand to you, and back. he doesn’t know what that indicated, so he takes a simple guess; satoru places his chin on your palm, giving you an amused kind of grin. you raise an eyebrow as he rests his head on your hand—which wasn’t what you wanted to gain from your gesture.

but you couldn’t blame him. it was cute that that was the first thing he thought of doing.

“you’re always welcome to check. got nothin’ to hide anyway.” he shrugs, not offended by your accusation in the slightest. you see the way his blue eyes look up at you—in a way that shows his pure, unadulterated adoration for you.

you nod and scratch satoru under his chin, to which he smiles and closes his eyes, enjoying the tingling touch, “then can i .. look through your phone?”

without an ounce of hesitation, he had placed his phone unlocked in your hand. satoru doesn’t care much about privacy anyway—you’re his girlfriend, you’re the only one allowed to know every single thing about him, “of course, baby.”

your eyes land on the screen and your jaw drops as you see his home screen; a picture of you up close, sleeping with your cheek squished against his arm, own hands resting near your head and . . . is that drool trickling down your chin?

“oops, sorry, you were too cute not to take a picture of.” satoru chuckles as he sees your reaction. he lays back on his side, elbow propped on the pillow with his head resting against his hand—watching you go through his phone with a relaxed look.

you roll your eyes playfully before starting your search. your finger swiped across the screen and landed on the messenger app satoru uses. you click on it and scroll through his chats, but don’t find anything out of the ordinary. he recently talked to you, his first year students, nanami and shoko.

you curiously tap on his chat with shoko and don’t read anything interesting at first glance. you scroll up and take note of how satoru was the one who kept most of the conversation going. shoko’s replies were much shorter and curt—straight to the point.

but then your eyes land on a conversation from two weeks ago. satoru had showed shoko a bunch of selfies you had sent him that same day. he was telling her how ‘cute’ and ‘pretty’ you were, practically bragging about you being his girl.

you scroll up some more and see that he’s done the same many times before; sending shoko pictures of you and kind of rambling to her about how beautiful you are.

shoko—being the good friend she is—indulged into his little lovesick ramblings and agreed with every thing satoru said—even complimenting your looks herself. you begun to get embarrassed at this unexpected revelation.

when going through more of his chats with other people, you realise how much satoru loves to talk about you. you couldn’t possibly count the many times satoru had refused invitations from his students or other friends simply because he wanted to hang out with you instead.

you discovered that he even skipped two or three important meetings at the school to go spend the day with you—nanami scolding him via text each time he did so.

“damn..” you murmur and glance up at your lover after closing his messaging app. satoru was staring right back at you with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on him.

he wasn’t embarrassed about you reading some of those cheesy and sappy texts at all. in fact, he was happy. he wants you to know how much he loves you (as if he doesn’t show you exactly that every day of the week).

“go on, sweets.” satoru nods towards his phone, encouraging you to continue your inspection. your eyes dart back towards the screen and you shyly swipe and scroll some more, eventually ending up in his gallery.

the first things you noticed: two albums dedicated to you. all were filled with hundreds of pictures of you (and him). one was named ‘my love,’ the other ‘me&my love’ — both with a heart at the end. scrolling through them, you noticed many images you hadn’t even realised were ever taken.

many of those pictures were also favourited in his gallery.

you nibble on your bottom lip and leave the gallery app even more flustered than before. you aimlessly click around some more on his phone. what really surprised you most was that you were named in his reminder app.

there were tons—all added in one long list. some were so pure that you couldn’t contain the slight tears in your eyes;

‘bring gf gifts’, ‘remind gf that she’s amazing’, ‘bring gf lunch’, ‘send gf daily selfie’, ‘daily cuddles w gf (if she wants)’, ‘give gf big smooch (important!)’, ‘check up on gf when away on business’, — satoru doesn’t actually need to have those reminders on his phone. his mind is so full of you that he’ll automatically remember to do everything, almost on autopilot. he just has those there for… well, just in case he somehow ends up forgetting.

you lock his phone after seeing enough and give it back to your lover. you wordlessly crawl over to him on the bed and snuggle up to his body, head resting on his chest.

“sorry.” you quietly apologise. you knew he wasn’t hiding anything, but the fact that you still went ahead and tried out that ‘loyalty test’ on someone as loyal and loving as satoru makes your heart ache a bit. especially after discovering just how smitten he’s with you.

“dunno why you’re apologising—but please don’t.” satoru whispers and rubs your back in a soothing manner, kissing the top of your head and smiling against your scalp afterwards, “it’s fiiine.”

he’s entertained by the reactions to your discoveries, even if those are but mere indications to the actual unending and undying love he holds for you in his heart.

you lift your head up and look at satoru. your bottom lip stuck out, corners of your mouth twitching slightly whilst your eyes started to get a bit glassy. you really felt bad—yet you also felt appreciated on the other hand. if you didn’t go through with your curious idea, you wouldn’t have gotten to know about any of this.

“aww, my sweet, sweet girl.” satoru coos and places two kisses right below each eye, tapping your nose with a grin. he adores the way you look and if it wasn’t for his self control, he’d have nibbled on those cheeks of yours out of playful aggression.

it’s then that satoru remembers one of his daily tasks; one he hadn’t properly done today.

you were caught off guard once more as satoru’s lips crashed down onto yours—no warning given whatsoever. his big hands held onto your cheeks, thumb rubbing the skin there whilst his glossy lips moved against yours in a gentle yet much sloppy way.

“there,” the white-haired man hums in content as he pulls away, giggling once he sees a bit of his saliva coat your mouth. he wipes it away with his thumb, “your smooch of the day.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the exaggerated cringy way satoru said the latter—your boyfriend laughing right alongside you afterwards.

satoru wasn’t done with you, however. he had many other daily tasks that were yet to be fulfilled.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #gojo x you #satoru x reader #jjk fic #everyone boooo this bcs i hate the way it turned out ☝🏽☝🏽

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ozzgin · 5 months ago

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Its been 6 months😭😭 pleaasseeee make a part 2 of the android x human story im beggingggg😭

-H❤️

Yandere! Android x Reader (II)

Featuring your assigned android partner who is not as devoid of humanity as you originally thought.

Content: female reader, AI yandere, mildly NSFW, based on Caves of Steel

[Part 1] | [More original works]

The case had been solved.

Not only that, but you'd managed to prove that human officers were just as efficient as their robot counterparts. The Commissioner was beyond ecstatic, pacing back and forth in his office and finding new ways to praise your detective skills.

"That'll show those Spacers. They think some glorified tin box can match our skill?"

You frowned at his words and glanced to your side, where the android was sitting. He observed the Commissioner with the same polite smile, no hint of disagreement on his features. Was he not insulted? You questioned him once the formal meeting had finished.

"I have no reason to be offended, (Y/N). It is a personal opinion, and thus I have no control over it."

"So you don't mind people disliking robots to such an extent?"

He pondered your statement.

"I would certainly be upset if it was you who harbored the disdain. The beliefs of other humans hold no meaning to me otherwise."

You couldn't tell if he said it out of politeness, or if he actually meant it. Most likely the former, in order to part on good terms. After all, your partnership has reached its completion. He'd return to the Spacer Colony with his report on human customs, and you'd go back to your regular job.

Except he never left. Days later, he was still sipping on his morning coffee, lounging at your table. You fiddled with your cup in contemplation. Was there anything else left to do?

"When are you leaving, actually?"

The pale man raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.

"Is my presence here of such significant disturbance?"

"What? No!" you swiftly exclaimed, stumbling on your words. His lips widened in yet another cheeky grin. He was teasing you again.

"My assignment on Earth is done, thus I should have returned to the Colony already. That's what you're wondering about, yes? I am awaiting a response from my superiors."

"Whether you can go back?"

"No, whether my transfer has been accepted. I have applied to be your permanent partner."

You could feel your cheeks burning with heat. Was it that obvious to the synthetic that you enjoyed his company? Then again, he wouldn't have gone through such motions just for your sake.

"Why did you..." you probed sheepishly. There was no logical reason for him to keep working in a poorer, less advanced environment.

"Because I want to continue spending time with you."

Nonsense. An artificial being wouldn't make its decision based on such mundane, emotional reasons.

"I don't believe you."

"I understand. It is a faulty answer to come out of a machine. Though unlike common AI assistants, we have been invested with the capacity to develop likes and dislikes. Interests. Wants. It helps with variety and individualization."

"And you want to stay here? If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you have a crush on me or something", you attempted to joke.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence. Had you gone too far with your humor? Was it too cliché of a sentence? You turned away, tucking some strands of hair behind your ear. You just had to be witty, huh?

"I'm afraid I do not know what to tell you, (Y/N)."

"You don't need to say anything, it was a poor choice of-"

"Many social aspects have been implemented into my behavioral network. Workplace rapport, friendships, intimate relationships. What seems to be lacking is the transition from one to another. I know how to act as a romantic partner, but how does one achieve such a title in the first place?"

You gazed at him, incredulous. What was he trying to say?

"I am trying to convey that I am indeed infatuated with you. Which, then, makes my initial explanation dishonest: while I do appreciate our fruitful work cooperation, it is not a main reason for my decision. I hope this clears up any misunderstandings."

You'd never been a romantic. You sometimes flipped through sample pages of contemporary romance books at stores and community centers, but they always felt forcefully cheesy. Predictable. Consequently, you never had any grand dreams of passionate confessions under the rain.

On the other hand, you also didn't expect to be asked out in such a mechanical, calculated manner. Or that a machine would be the suitor. Yet there was something charming about his approach. For the first time since meeting him at the border, you saw him struggle. There was something human-like in his uncertainty.

You stood up from the table, and walked towards the android. Then, you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, expressing the mutual feeling and understanding.

His eyes bore an eerie glint to them. It was most kind of you to offer a common ground, but he knew better. The affections you held for him were, with utmost certainty, a mere fraction of whatever overwhelmed him from the moment he encountered you. Limerence, obsession, compulsion, there were many definitions that aptly described his otherwise unexplainable desires towards you. Even more unexplainable was the fact they'd evolved from a blank slate, a programmed agent with no previous knowledge on feelings or humans.

You noticed his hesitation.

"Is there anything else troubling you presently?" you nudged.

Nothing of immediate urgency. Well, not for you, at least. The android remained thoughtful. What were the variables which needed to be met in order to initiate a sexual encounter? Would it have been inappropriate for him to suggest intercourse straight after this conversation? To him, it was a natural escalation he'd considered many times in the past. To you, it could've come as a sudden, crass, and hurried proposal.

He reached for your wrist and discreetly pressed a thumb against your skin. Judging from your resting heart rate, facial expression, and localized temperature, there was a fair chance you wouldn't reject his advances. Once the statistical risk had been assessed, he pulled you in for a kiss.

"Would it be possible to continue this in your bedroom?" he inquired, standing up.

"Alright, just don't...ask for approval for every single step" you retorted. You'd rather not become a narrator of your own pounding.

You open your eyes with a squint, greeted by unexpected natural light flooding your bedroom. Someone must’ve lifted the hologram blinds.

“My apologies, I hadn’t considered the discomfort it would cause you. My Spacer colony uses artificial lightning, though I am becoming rather fond of the natural sun rays here.”

Your android partner is meticulously preparing his outfit for the day. Judging by the stark nakedness and the glistening skin, you suppose he’s had a shower while you were still sleeping. You involuntarily furrow your brows and blush at the sight. He notices your embarrassment.

“A most surprising reaction. You have seen the very same genital organ…”, he says as he quickly checks his wristwatch, “...precisely eight hours and forty-five minutes ago.”

“It’s just…most people get dressed once they start doing other things. I also wear a towel for coverage when I come out of the shower.”

He processes your words.

“Hmmm. Illogical, but it explains your reaction.”

You stand up and stretch with a prolonged yawn. Suddenly, a revelation hits you: your mind flashes with images of the android fondling your body, your ears ring with the shameless moans you’ve let out throughout the night. Your face turns pale.

“Listen, when is your next functional inspection?” you ask, without waiting for the synthetic to answer. “Will they, uh…will they have access to all of your memories?”

You know that the android permanently records all data and saves it into a memory unit. It’s a pointless fear, of course. The Spacers couldn’t care less about irrelevant details. If the intended tasks are fulfilled, what happens on the side is out of their concern. Yet you don’t exactly appreciate the possibility of your personal deeds airing like this, before the eyes of multiple engineers.

“You may rest assured, whatever involves your privacy will not be included in the examination.”

“Do you get to decide what is checked and what isn’t?”

“No, most data is sampled randomly.”

You stare at him, confused.

“Then how-”

“It is not common practice, nor encouraged by our code of ethics. I can, however, choose which information is available to begin with.”

“What? I thought you’re fully controlled by whoever created you. If they so desired, couldn’t they open you up and take whatever they require?”

The robot smiles at your assumption and takes a few steps towards you.

“Once an android model is finished, one can no longer modify the processor. Not without compromising everything else with it. It is not a device to be deconstructed, (Y/N).” He taps his temple, then continues: “I am a biocomputer. While most of my parts are mechanical, my processor is a cortical organoid developed in a laboratory. A human brain, if you will.”

Somehow, the discovery fills you with dread. A living organ, encapsulated within a machine. What does that say about consciousness? About self-awareness? The Spacers didn't just tinker with metal scraps and smart computers. They artificially birthed life.

You were always under the impression that your robot companion is closer to the computer you have on your desk. Billions of lines of code within a black box, which then lead to spontaneous, novel interactions with the outside world. To think that at the very core of his functions lies a clump of living cells...

Perhaps you weren't so different, after all. The line between machines and humans is suddenly blurred.

#yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere robot #yandere android #robot x human #android x reader #robot x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere original character #yandere imagine #yandere fic

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say-al0e · 8 months ago

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Movie Night

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!

Summary: You've been crushing on Eddie Munson for ages. When you finally ask him over to a watch a movie, you learn that your feelings are definitely requited. Warnings: General mention of Eddie's reputation/being mistreated for said reputation, protected PinV, oral (m receiving). Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader Word Count: 7.8k (it got away from me, my bad)

“I think I’m going to ask him out.”

Steve, who had been sorting through tapes on autopilot - huffing at each return that needed to be rewound, muttering under his breath each time your perch on the counter jeopardized his precarious pile of returns - lifted his head at the sound of your voice.

A quick glance around the store reminded him that it was empty, save for the two of you, Dustin Henderson, and Eddie Munson. It was obvious that you weren’t talking about Dustin and he knew you weren’t talking about him - been there, done that; be kind, don’t rewind.

The only logical conclusion was Eddie and that pulled a grimace from Steve as he spared your one-time classmate a weary glance.

Across the store, Eddie watched as Dustin - with flailing limbs and grinning lips - sorted through tapes in search of a film neither you nor Steve had ever heard of. He looked amused, eyes wide and bright as he listened to Dustin, and it brought a soft smile to your lips that Steve quickly erased.

“You’re going to ask out Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” Steve shuddered, as if he couldn’t bear to think about it - only a little exaggerated, a little dramatic in a way he often teased Dustin for - and shook his head as he transferred his pile to the cart. “Why would you do something like that?”

Though Steve had made great strides in shedding the high school persona he’d spent so long clinging to - he was no longer the Grade-A douchebag he once was - there were still moments of reflexive snobbery that made you roll your eyes. It didn’t help that there was an undercurrent of jealousy, spurred by Dustin’s newfound Eddie worship, but he seemed to realize his mistake as he held up a hand in apology.

“He’s cute.” There was a defensive bite to your tone, sharp and pointed - a derisive huff that made Steve raise a brow - as you spared the pair a glance.

Though most wouldn’t believe it, you’d always found Eddie cute. When he returned to school your junior year (his first senior year) with longer hair, wearing a leather jacket, you’d been drawn to him immediately. There was something about him that enchanted you - his hair, his smile, his big brown eyes, his theatrics, his give-no-fucks attitude - and saddled you with one of the biggest crushes you’d ever had.

Despite the years of pining, you never acted on it. Eddie never gave you much reason to believe your feelings might be requited, other than the time you caught him checking out your ass beneath your cheer skirt senior year, but things were different now. High school insecurity was gone and you no longer cared what anyone thought about your personal life.

And if Eddie truly had no interest in you, you wouldn’t be stuck in a building with him five days a week.

Steve’s face remained sour, uncertain - despite his knowledge that Eddie was almost perfectly your type - so you rolled your eyes and jostled the desk, just to make him jump. When he glared at you, you grinned.

“I mean, what’s the harm? Eddie’s always been nice to me. At worst, I pull a Henderson and replace you with Eddie.”

“Please. My life would drastically improve if you left me alone.” At your mock outrage, Steve sneered - though you could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, one that confirmed he was joking, though he would likely apologize for being bitchy later, anyway.

Steve shook his head as he shoved a tape, ready to be marked as a return, into your hands. “Of course Munson has always been nice to you. You’re hot.” It was said easily, as if it was the most logical explanation, a point blank huff that had him shrugging when you teasingly wagged your brows. “You know I think you’re hot. Shut up. And Munson’s weird, but he’s still a guy.”

The sharp nudge of your foot to Steve’s side drew another annoyed huff, this one accompanied by a swift swat to your foot - one that made you laugh and Steve roll his eyes.

“He’s not weird,” you defended, eyes narrowed as you scratched at the Family Video sticker covering the spine of a tape. “Just because you’re not into the same stuff doesn’t mean he’s, like, a freak or something. He’s just a guy. A cute guy, but just a guy.”

Finally, as if he’d come to terms with the fact that no work would be done until you’d decided to make your move or backed down, deflated and intending to leave well enough alone, Steve turned to lean against the counter. He folded his arms over his chest and allowed his gaze to flicker between you and Eddie.

“You’re really into him?”

Steve knew that you were. Just as you’d given him dating advice, he’d given you the same in return and knew that you had a thing for metalheads in theory - guys with leather jackets and music collections that made his head hurt - but the last person you actually pursued was more like him. It was always the safe choice and he wanted to be certain that you knew what you were getting yourself into.

“You’re totally forgetting that I thought Billy Hargrove was gorgeous until he opened his mouth and proved himself to be a Grade-A dickhead. At least Eddie’s really a nice guy.” With a sigh, you slid from the counter - careful not to destroy Steve’s pile - and frowned as you spared Eddie another sideways glance.

A dejected sigh escaped, fell from your mouth in a puff of hot air, as you emulated Steve’s stance and folded your arms over your chest. You understood where Steve was coming from - his question was fair, one that made perfect sense - but it made your chest ache as you searched for the words to adequately describe what you’d been thinking.

“I just… I’m tired of going for the safe choice, you know? I’m tired of looking for people that won’t disappoint my parents or make judge-y assholes look twice, even if they make me miserable.” With a forced laugh, a sound that rang hollow in your own ears, you turned your full attention back to Steve. “I think you’re the only person I ever even attempted to date that I halfway liked and we both know how that ended up.” Steve made a face, one that clearly displayed his understanding, as he tilted his head to study Eddie, trying to see what you saw. “Eddie’s cute and sweet and I’m not just into him because I feel like I’m supposed to be.”

Steve understood, if only vaguely - he’d chased after people just because he felt he was supposed to, spent his entire high school career being a guy he didn’t really like because that was who he felt he was supposed to be - so he nodded. With a wave of his hand, he gestured to Eddie. “I say, if you want to ask him out, just do it. There’s no chance he’ll turn you down. He’s weird, not an idiot.”

With Steve’s encouragement, if only barely, you turned to face Eddie. There was a fire burning in the pit of your stomach, flames lapping at your already warm skin, as you considered exactly how to approach him. There was no sense in trying to beat around the bush - he was sweet, flirty and kind, but would need to be asked directly, just to avoid any misunderstanding - and you knew that you couldn’t have a conversation with him with Dustin Henderson stuck to his side.

“Steve.”

An exasperated sigh escaped Steve, who had only just turned back to his work, as he held his hands up in defeat. “What?” Warm brown eyes narrowed, focused on you in an exasperated frustration that made you laugh. “What do you want me to do? I’m not asking him out for you.”

Laughter bubbled in your throat, escaped a little louder than you intended and drew Eddie and Dustin’s attention as you imagined Steve playing the middleman for you and Eddie. With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned your head and pouted at Steve. “Take responsibility for your child and distract Henderson. I can’t ask Eddie out with him right there.”

Steve fixed you with a wholly unimpressed stare, not at all surprised by the turn your day had taken. “Fine,” he sighed, turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. “Get him over here and I’ll distract him. But you owe me. Cover my shift on Saturday? I’ve got a date with Lisa.”

“I thought you were going out with Anna?” Steve grimaced in a way that told you there would be a deeper conversation later, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be distracted. Instead, you waved a hand. “Whatever. Henderson is literally only here because of you. I don’t owe you shit.” You rounded the counter, brows raised as Steve pulled a face, and laughed when he rolled his eyes. “I will swap you, though. I’ll take your Saturday night if you take my Friday night.”

“Yeah, alright. Just go before I change my mind. The kid can be a total cockblock when he wants to be and I’m thinking about letting him.”

With a middle finger tossed behind you, angled in Steve’s direction - met with his laughter and, no doubt, a middle finger of his own - you started off across the store. Dustin and Eddie had dropped their conversation to furious whispers, an exchange that you couldn’t make out from your distance, but fell silent the moment your steps sounded a touch too close.

“Henderson.” At your greeting, Dustin’s attention snapped to you, eyes wide and lips parted with a sentence you’d broken. Eddie shot him a sideways look and you raised an eyebrow at the silent conversation that passed between the pair. “Steve wanted to talk to you.”

Dustin frowned, eyes darting between you and Steve - whose back remained to your group. “About what?”

Eddie stifled a laugh, wide eyes amused as he watched you huff, and you rolled your eyes as Dustin waited expectantly. “I’m not a mindreader, Henderson. Ask him yourself."

Without so much as another glance in your direction, Dustin turned his attention back to the shelf he and Eddie had spent twenty minutes dissecting. “I’m busy,” he declared, fingers reaching for another tape that he had no intention of renting.

“Un-busy yourself. Now, preferably,” you snapped, eyes narrowing as Dustin turned to look at you. Before he could respond - mutter something smart, a quip that would leave you more annoyed - Eddie laughed and nudged his shoulder.

Eddie’s eyes, wide and pretty - a glassy brown that you could lose yourself in, given the chance - met yours. There was a knowing glimmer, the understanding that you wanted him alone, though you could see a hint of confusion as he tried to imagine just what you could want. “I think you’ve got about five seconds to leave before she snaps, Henderson. Might want to make yourself scarce.”

With Eddie’s encouragement, Dustin shot you an unimpressed glower before he stomped across the floor, muttering all the while. Beneath his breath, he mumbled something about not understanding girls, a huff that Suzie was the least difficult girl in his life, and had the nerves not been threatening to choke you, you would’ve laughed.

“I love those kids,” you began, eyes following Dustin’s retreating form as he approached the counter with an exaggerated huff, “but, man.”

A soft huff of laughter, accompanied by the crinkle of leather as Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, met your eyes. That knowing smile grew a touch brighter, something more understanding, as he nodded. “It’s his tone,” he declared, grin conspiratorial. “A little humility would go far there.”

“Thank you! That’s what I’ve been saying!”

Eddie laughed and shook his head as you tossed your arms, exasperated, before glancing at you from beneath his lashes. Despite the clear amusement still settled across his features, it was obvious that he was studying you. It made you eager to shrink beneath his gaze, unused to being the center of his attention for longer than a few moments, but you willed yourself to keep your head held high as he raised a brow.

“So, Henderson’s gone,” he pointed out, dragging each syllable out just a moment longer than necessary. “What’s up? If you’re lookin’ to buy, I don’t have anything with me. We could meet later, though, if you want.”

“No, no. That’s not -“ You cut yourself off with a shake of your head, incredulous laughter threatening to escape as you did. “I don’t want to buy. I was thinking, maybe we could watch a movie or something? I want to watch The Return of the Living Dead but my friends are all chickens. I know you like horror so, I just thought, maybe we could watch it together.”

Eddie blinked, clearly caught off guard, and stilled for what felt like an eternity. In reality, only a moment passed before his lips began to curve into a slow smile. There was mischief glittering in his eyes, a warmth you hadn’t seen from him before, and you knew in that moment that Steve was right. “Are you asking me on a date, princess?”

“I am.” Despite his best attempt at nonchalance, Eddie’s brows winged up at your blunt acknowledgement. “Are you going to say yes?”

“Fuck yeah,” he agreed, easy and quick as he laughed. “If I ever say no to a date with you, assume I’ve finally lost it. But, uh, you sure about this?”

Eddie glanced across the store - met another pair of warm brown eyes before Steve and Dustin both hurriedly busied themselves with pretending they weren’t attempting to eavesdrop - and you rolled your eyes. He was far from the first person to assume there was more going on between you and Steve than friendship, but you were quick to dispel that line of thinking.

“Completely.” You debated for a moment, curious as to whether you should dig yourself deeper, but the bright glint in Eddie’s eyes - hopeful and delighted - spurred you on. “I’ve kinda had a thing for you for a while,” you admitted, attempting to feign nonchalance as you swiped at a wayward piece of dust on a shelf. His surprise was evident, brows lifting beneath the curl of his hair, but before he could comment, you barreled on. “My parents are out of town. I have to finish my shift,” you began, glancing at the clock above the desk, “but you can come over at, like, seven?”

“Seven, yeah.” Eddie’s agreement was quick, voice a little dreamy - as if he still couldn’t quite believe you’d asked him out, that you were seriously inviting him over or that you’d admitted to having a thing for him. “That sounds good. I, uh, I’ll see you then.”

“Cool, awesome.” You nodded, grinning at him - unable to even feign nonchalance as his smile mirrored your own - before you turned back to the desk. “I’ll see you at seven, then.”

Neither Eddie nor Dustin lingered long after your conversation - the latter, no doubt, leaving with the knowledge of where Eddie would be spending his evening, thanks to his gossiping with Steve. Eddie left with a smile in your direction and you saw his flailing celebration the second he stepped out of the store, even if you dutifully pretended not to noice.

Steve, however, made it a point to keep the joyous gesture at the forefront of your mind.

For the remaining three hours of your shift, you endured Steve’s teasing. He poked fun at your upcoming date, wondering idly if Eddie would be waiting for you when you arrived home - too excited too wait until seven - or if he’d wear something other than his leather jacket or black t-shirt. But, no matter what he said, you simply rolled your eyes and kept checking the clock every ten minutes.

The time seemed to crawl, passing so slowly that you were half-sure Dustin changed the clocks just to mess with you, but when the hour struck six, you were out the door with a parting wave and a bright ‘thanks’ to Steve for taking on closing duties alone.

There was little time for anything more than a change of clothes and a quick tidying of your home before seven rolled around, but you knew that Eddie wouldn’t really mind. Though there was something about him that made you nervous - excited, giddy, some kind of schoolgirl crush - if you really thought about it, you figured there was little you could do that would truly bother him.

And, thankfully, before you could think too much about it and send yourself spiraling, a knock sounded at the door.

At seven on the dot, you found Eddie standing at your front door. He’d changed - his leather jacket remained, but it covered a nicer shirt instead of the worn Metallica shirt he’d donned earlier in the afternoon - and you could smell the green apple of his shampoo as he grinned at you.

“Hey.” Though he attempted nonchalance with an easy smile, you could see the nervous tension in his shoulders.

Eddie had been burned - you knew that - and he was likely waiting for the catch. There was none, just a desire to get to know him better, and you wanted desperately for him to know that. So you mustered up your widest grin and held the door open for him.

“Hi. Come in.” As he stepped inside, closer than necessary - shoulder brushing yours, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body - you hoped he don’t notice the breath you took to steady yourself. “So, I got Return of the Living Dead and Sleepaway Camp. Not sure if you’ve seen either, but Return is supposed to be amazing and Sleepaway Camp is one of my favorites.”

“I haven’t seen Return yet,” he admitted as you closed the front door, “but I’ve heard good things. Sleepaway Camp, though? This whole time, I thought you were cool.” The jab was teasing, meant entirely in jest and accompanied by a grin, and earned a roll of your eyes as you gestured for him to follow you deeper into the living room.

“I don’t know where you got that idea, but I’m happy to prove you wrong.” Eddie followed, close enough that. He could reach out and touch you, and the idea made your thoughts a little fuzzy as you approached the couch. “I won’t be taking any Sleepaway Camp slander, though. It’s killer.”

Eddie paused, tilted his head and regarded you with furrowed brows and a badly concealed smile as he watched you reach for the tapes. “…was that a really bad pun?”

“I keep getting cooler, I’m aware.” Eddie laughed, unable to conceal his smile any longer, as he took a seat at one end of the couch. “I was going to say we could start with Return since neither of us have seen it but now, you’re going to suffer through Sleepaway Camp first.”

As you placed the tape into the VCR and pressed play, you could hear the shuffling of Eddie tossing his leather jacket onto the chair beside the couch. “Fine by me,” he hummed, a sly grin on his lips as you glanced at him over your shoulder. “Maybe the company will make it better.” When you fixed him with your best unimpressed look - a feat, considering the heat traveling to your cheeks - his grin grew a touch wider. “I keep getting more charming, I’m aware.”

“Wow.” The nervous energy began to dissipate with every teasing jab. You were reminded of how easily you’d always gotten along with Eddie - how easily you’d always been able to converse with him, despite the crush that made you conscious of your every move - as you approached the couch yourself. “You know, now that you mention it, I never realized…” Warm brown eyes tracked your every move, anticipating - hoping for - a compliment as you took a seat at the opposite end. “… just how big your head was.”

The opening scene began to play, sounds of a B-horror film filling the small space, as he reached for the lamp on the side table. “Big head, big… well, you know how the saying goes,” he teased as he settled deeper into the cushions and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I do but I’m pretty sure that is totally not how it starts.”

Eddie shrugged, grin never faltering as he watched you reach for the lamp at your end of the couch. “Same thing. Creative license and all that.”

“Right. All the songwriting and campaign planning, makes sense you get a little creative.” When he tipped his head, seemingly surprised that you knew about both his songwriting and campaign planning, you rolled your eyes. “I’ve had a crush on you for, like, three years. I know things about you, Eddie. And, I mean, I spend time around Dustin Henderson, begrudgingly most of the time, but he talks about you all the time. So, I’ve picked up some things.”

There was a look of something akin to awe on his face as you shifted closer. “You’re pretty, you like horror and metal, and you like me. Why?”

It broke your heart to hear the doubt in his voice - to see the hesitance in his eyes, the residual concern that he was being left out of the joke - and you couldn’t help but sigh as you continued shifting closer to him. “Because you like horror and metal and you’re kinda cool. And, I mean, it doesn’t hurt that you’re kinda hot, too.”

“You know,” he spared the television a glance, “if you didn’t have sort of questionable taste, I’d think this was all too good to be true. But, I’m not gonna question it too much ‘cause you’re kinda cool, too. And definitely hot.”

“Glad to know we’re on the same page, then. Now, are we going to just talk or are you going to allow me to educate you in good horror?”

Eddie’s laughter drowned out a brief moment of dialogue - a line you could easily recite - as he tossed an arm over the back of the couch and shook his head. “‘M sorry. Educate away, princess.”

For a few brief moments, the pair of you settled. Eddie kept his attention on the television - and even cracked a smile or two at some of your favorite moments - while you kept your attention on him. His side profile was captivating, so distracting that you didn’t notice the minutes ticking away as you studied him, and he was kind enough to refrain from pointing out your obvious staring as the film played on.

Though you could feel the rapid beat of your heart, a warmth prickling at your skin as you remained conscious of the fact that you’d finally taken the leap and had a chance to make your move, Eddie seemed unfazed by the proximity as he laughed at a particularly cheesy scene. However, when you shifted closer - body now practically touching his - you caught his sharp inhale.

It brought you a sort of comfort to realize that he was not as unaffected as he seemed, nowhere near as nonchalant about the entire encounter as he wanted you to believe, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tipped your head to look at him.

“Do I make you nervous?”

The question was teasing, a light jab, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Of course you do,” he confirmed with a nod and a laugh as he glanced at you. “You’re smart and cool and hot. You fucking terrify me.”

“Me?” You scoffed, despite yourself, and shook your head. “As if. I’m totally not scary.”

“‘M serious.” Eddie relaxed, if only slightly, and shifted his body to face you fully as his arm fell around your shoulders. “No one had their shit together in high school, but you did. You knew what you wanted and it was kind of intimidating.”

“I definitely did not have my shit together,” you confessed, laughing as you leaned into his embrace. “But I’m glad it looked like I did. Maybe I’m just a good actress.”

“If that’s acting, you should be up for an Oscar, princess.”

As Eddie laughed, a quiet sound that washed over you and filled your chest with a sticky warmth, you shook your head. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know?”

Eddie hummed, a flash of confusion washing over his face, before he asked, “What, princess?”

“Mm. I think if it was anyone else, it would sound condescending. Like they’re trying to be a prick, you know. But I don’t mind it from you,” you confessed. “It’s kinda nice.”

That grin you were beginning to love - genuine, warm, happy - lifted his lips as he shifted once more and knocked your knee with his own. “I’m not a big fan of nicknames, for obvious reasons,” he confided, “but I like it when you call me Eds. It’s kinda cute.”

“God, we’re kinda gross.”

“Totally. But I’m not complaining.” Eddie removed his arm from around your shoulders and brought his hand to cup your cheek. He paused for a moment, studying your face, before he asked, “Does it make me a total loser if I’ve thought about kissing you for, like, ever?”

For a split second, you wondered if he could hear the beat of your heart over the screaming emanating from the television - and if you’d heard him properly over the noise. But when you met his expectant gaze, wide brown eyes waiting for you response, you realized you didn’t really care.

“Only if you keep thinking about it instead of actually doing it.”

With your permission, Eddie leaned in and tentatively pressed his mouth to yours. The kiss was careful, hesitant, but you could feel the underlying excitement as the warmth of his palm bled into your skin. Without thinking, you breathed a contented sigh as you lifted your hands to his hair and tugged him impossibly closer.

The noise of the film continued in the background, unnoticed by either of you as Eddie took the initiative to deepen the kiss. He swiped his tongue along the seam of your lips, urging you to open up for him, and you gave in without a moment of hesitation.

As many times as you’d thought about this moment - as many times as you’d pictured yourself in this situation, at the center of Eddie’s attention, with his hands and mouth on you - the reality was infinitely better than any dream. Eddie’s hands were calloused, rough from years of guitar and, now, his work at Thatcher’s, but his touch was featherlight as his hands began to wander.

Gentle fingers brushed along your jaw, dragged down the side of your neck and shoulders, inching lower until they found your waist. Your fingers tangled in his curls, indulging in your long hidden desire to play with his hair, as Eddie pulled away to allow you both a moment to breathe.

“We’re missing the totally not awful movie,” he pointed out, breath fanning over your neck as he dipped his head to nose at your jaw.

“We can rewind it later.”

Eddie laughed, his smirk evident as he nipped at the hinge of your jaw before lapping at the skin to soothe the brief sting. “Thought you wanted to educate me, princess,” he teased.

Warm hands began to wander, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your t-shirt to brush the heated skin of your waist, as he pressed soft kisses to your neck. Your own hands began to wander as well, dipping to his chest as he latched onto a patch of skin just beneath your ear.

“Want to kiss you more.”

He hummed, pleased with your answer, as he tipped his head to meet your gaze. Soft brown eyes were blown black and there was a hunger in them that you’d never been privileged enough to see. Now, the sheer weight of his desire hit you all at once as he grinned. “Glad to know we’re on the same page, then.”

Before you could huff, playfully pout at his taunting callback, Eddie reclaimed your lips. This kiss was more heated than the first, hesitance now gone as you realized you both wanted the same thing, and it completely obliterated any remaining thoughts other than how good it felt to have him pressed so close.

Though his hands began to wander, touch fleeting as it dragged across your hips and thighs, over your middle and back to your arms, he remained respectful. As eager as you both were, his hands only fell to your chest when you lifted them there yourself.

Eddie groaned into the kiss the moment you placed his hands, fingers experimentally flexing as you shifted impossibly closer.

“You can touch me however you want,” you allowed, word exhaled against his mouth as you separated just an inch to breathe. “I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t want something.”

“Fuck.” His forehead fell to yours, curls beginning to stick to his forehead with the lightly beading sweat, as he laughed. “Ditto. I’m all yours, princess. Take whatever you want.”

“That’s a dangerous offer.” The hand you’d left on his bicep, fingers tracing the stark black ink of his tattoo, began to wander then. Slowly, you raked the tips of your fingers down his chest - not bothering to hide your grin as he inhaled sharply at the sensation of your fingers raking over his lower stomach - and stopped at the buckle of his belt. “What if I want everything?”

“It’s yours. Been yours,” he admitted, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze met yours once more. “Fuck, you’re all I want, princess. ‘ve been crazy about you for a while.”

“Keep talking like that and you might make me fall in love, Eds.” It was too late - you were already halfway there - and you both knew it. Still, Eddie laughed dutifully as his gaze fell to watch your hands tug at his belt buckle.

“Give me a few hours. I’ve been there, time for you to join me.”

The admission was half-teasing, accompanied by a breathless laugh as you worried with the warm metal beneath your fingers, but it still filled your stomach with a storm of butterflies. The time you’d spent pining over Eddie could’ve been spent lying beneath him, going on dates with him, enjoying time with him, and you were determined to make up for lost time as you tipped your head and pressed your lips to his once more.

“I’m closer than you think.”

Before he could consider your admission too closely, you pulled away and slipped off the couch to kneel between his spread thighs. Those brown eyes went wide, big and disbelieving, as you unbuckled his belt.

“Whoa. Fuck, wait.” Eddie swallowed harshly as he swept his hair from his eyes and glanced down at you. A gentle hand fell to your cheek, urging you to meet his eyes as he blinked away the lust-fueled stupor. “You don’t have to… I mean, I don’t expect you to -“

“Eddie.” He paused, tongue darting out to wet his lips once more, as you cut him off mid-sentence. “You can say no. But I want to. Is that okay?”

Eddie was far from a blushing virgin. You’d heard the rumors, tales of just how talented he was - had even heard the stories of a few trysts from the man himself - but his hesitation gave you pause. However, before you could pull away, he assured you.

“Yeah! Yeah, that’d be - yeah. I’ve had sex. I’ve just… No one has ever… It’s usually a quick fuck and then back to whoever they’re supposed to be dating,” he confessed, pink tinging his cheeks as he hurried to explain himself. “Blowjobs aren’t usually the priority.”

Though you knew Eddie fairly well, enough to have been half-in love with him for a while, you knew his reputation. But to know that others had taken advantage of his desire to love and be loved in return, it made your chest ache. Despite his reputation for being a freak - for being scary, intimidating - you knew that he was a sweetheart who deserved more than he’d been given. And you wanted to show him that you were apply to make him a priority.

“I’d love to be the first, if you’ll let me.”

“Fuck.” Eddie shuddered, his chest heaved with a sharp breath, as he raked a hand through his hair and nodded. “Yeah,” he allowed, “yeah, please.”

Eddie leaned back into the cushions then, allowing himself to relax into the plush of the couch as you popped the button on his jeans. It was obvious just how much he was enjoying the attention - plain to see from the bulge in his jeans and the pink staining his cheeks and neck - and you couldn’t help but smile as you took in the sight of him.

“You’re so pretty, Eddie.” It was reverent, a breathless observation as you tugged at the denim and studied the slope of his nose - the curve of his jaw, the wild tangle of his hair - and you meant it wholeheartedly.

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, princess.” He lifted his hips, allowing you to tug at the denim just enough to expose his boxers - cheeks flushing darker when you bit back a smile at the sight of the blue and white checkerboard pattern.

“Not flattery, just honesty. You’re distracting,” you admitted, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as you began to palm at the bulge in his boxers. “But I wanna see how much prettier you are when you’re falling apart.”

“You’re killing me. Fuck.”

Deciding that he’d had enough teasing, you gave in to the desire and tugged at the final layer of material separating you. The moment you exposed him to the air, you both gasped - him at the sensation of cool air hitting blistering warm skin, you at the sight of him.

Without thought, you spit into your palm before allowing yourself to reach out and experimentally stroke his cock. Eddie groaned at the feeling, his head tipping back and his eyes fluttering shut, and you felt a surge of warmth wash over you. Each noise he made ran straight to your core, fanned the flames of the fire already beginning to burn out of control, and you shifted to allow yourself some relief before leaning in to lap at the bead of precum already beginning to form.

Another noise, this one louder, met your ears as a warm hand fell to your head. He was careful not to push, careful not to attempt to take control, as he sought to anchor himself to the moment but you wouldn’t have minded either way. And as you traced the vein running along the underside of his cock before taking the head between your lips, you could hear him swear beneath his breath.

Though you were tempted to prolong the pleasure, witness him falling apart piece by piece as you slowly worked him up, you were too worked up yourself to do more than take as much of him a you could into your mouth. You knew there would be time to experiment later - time to push yourself to take him all - so you focused on giving him the best experience you could in that moment.

It only took a few moments for his thighs to begin to flex beneath your touch, for his chest to heave and his noises of pleasure to grow louder. And though you could see the hint of embarrassment tinging his cheeks at beginning to fall apart so soon, you felt a surge of pride at your ability to rile him up so completely.

But before you could lift your head and urge him to come, assure him that it was alright, he spoke. “Fuck, princess. I don’t wanna come in your mouth.” Eddie urged you up, then, away from his cock as he attempted to catch his breath and pull himself back from the brink. “Wanna come with you. Can I fuck you?”

The blunt question warmed you from within, stole your breath and had you keening as you nodded eagerly. “Please.” A moan escaped your lips as he reached out to cup your cheek and pull you into a messy kiss that was an eager clash of tongue and teeth.

For a moment, you both lost yourselves in the kiss. Eddie groaned as your hand remained on his cock, fingers stroking slowly as you waited for him to gather himself, only for him to swear as he broke the kiss. “Shit. Fuck, I don’t have a condom,” he lamented, eyes falling shut. “Sorry. Wan’t exactly expecting,” he waved a hand, gesturing to your hand, “this.”

Luckily for the both of you, you still had a stash of condoms - given to you by Steve as a joke the last time you considered asking Eddie out - in your nightstand. “I do,” you revealed, giggling as his shoulders relaxed. “C’mon, pretty boy.”

As you stood, offering Eddie your hand, he groaned once more. “Is it your goal to kill me, princess? Because I think you might actually kill me.”

“What a way to go, though, hm?”

Eddie stood, quickly tugged his jeans up but left them unbuttoned, and followed close behind as you led him up the stairs, his hand warm in yours. You could feel his body heat radiating, could hear his shallow breathing as he attempted to even it out, and you were secretly satisfied to know that you had such an impact on him.

Even more, however, you were thrilled to know that you were only moments away from getting what you wanted.

With quick steps, you tugged him down the hall and into your bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you as you entered. Once inside, Eddie paused for a moment to take in the sight.

“You know, I was expecting a Tom Cruise poster,” he teased, laughing only slightly when instead he saw Nikki Sixx.

“What can I say? I’ve got a thing for pretty, dark-haired metalheads.”

A smirk quirked his mouth as he tugged you close, hands falling to your waist as he dipped his head to capture your lips. The kiss was eager, uncoordinated and messy but breathtaking as his hands began to wander. Deft fingers flitted to the button of your jeans, and after a moment of hesitation, popped them open.

“If you want to stop, we can,” he reminded you, fingers ghosting along the sliver of skin just above your jeans. “We totally don’t have to do this.”

“You’re incredibly sweet, Eds.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands drifting to his hair to tug at the curls as you met his gaze. “But if you don’t fuck me, I might cry and I don’t feel like crying tonight.”

Eddie grinned, glad you were as eager as he was, and hummed as his fingers began to drift lower. “Can’t have you crying on my watch, princess. ‘Less they’re good, ‘I totally fucked you stupid’ tears.”

“I mean, if you’re up to the challenge, then by all means.”

Though it might’ve been the wrong thing to say, a taunt you would later regret, he took the challenge for what it was worth. There was a determined glint in his eyes, a burning desire that tied your stomach in knots, and it was burned into your field of view as he pressed his mouth to yours once more.

For a moment, you weren’t certain which sensation to focus on as Eddie’s tongue licked at the seam of your lips and his fingers ghosted over the cotton of your panties. However, he drew your full, undivided attention as he nudged the fabric aside and swiped his fingers through your slick folds.

A hum of encouragement met your ears as Eddie coated his fingers in your slick, teasing for just a moment before he found the sensitive bundle of nerves. With his lips a fraction of an inch from yours, he asked, “This all from blowing me?”

It was incredulous, almost as if he couldn’t believe it, but you hummed. “Thought about it for ages. Reality was better.”

“Don’t think I’ll last long enough to return the favor right now,” he confessed, breath fanning across your lips as he rubbed lazy circles over the bundle of nerves, “but I’ve gotta taste you before tonight’s over. Got myself off so many times thinking about it, ‘bout you.”

Eddie grinned at the moan you released, at the way you sagged against him - unable to hold yourself entirely upright with the promise of him between your thighs, the thought of him touching himself to that image. “You sure you’re not trying to kill me?”

“What a way to go.” He lingered, just for a second, before Eddie pulled away and shushed your whine with a press of his mouth to yours. “I’m gonna come in my jeans if I don’t get inside you soon, princess. Promise to take my time with you later. Gonna give you everything you deserve, treat you right.”

“Ditto.” He laughed, amused and flattered in equal measure, as he began to tug at his clothes. Encouraged, you followed suit and, soon enough, a pile of garments littered your bedroom floor.

However, neither of you dwelled on the sight for long as you headed for the bed, stopping only to retrieve a foil packet from the bedside drawer.

Every dream encounter you shared with Eddie varied - sometimes he was soft, other times he manhandled you exactly the way you wanted; sometimes he was quick, others he teased for hours - but nothing lived up to the reality of having him climb into your bed after you.

This encounter would be quick and dirty, a desperate search for relief, but you knew that it was only the first of many. And, encouraged by the future that now seemed so clear, you reached out and tugged him into you.

Lithe arms braced themselves at either side of your head, tattoos stark against his pale skin, and you hummed as you decided you would someday spend as much time as he’d allow you committing them to memory. But that could wait. For now, you simply savored the weight of him above you and tangled your fingers in his hair as he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Haven’t even gotten inside and I already can’t wait to do this again,” he confessed, dipping his head to nip at the hinge of your jaw. “And again. And again. I’m already ruined for you, princess.”

Before you could confess the same sentiment, admit your utter ruin at his hands, he pressed his hips forward and began to sink into you. The stretch was bearable, a tinge of discomfort completely overshadowed by the warmth of his skin against yours - the weight of his body pressed to yours, the nip of his teeth at your jaw - and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

Eddie stilled for a few long moments, hands stroking at whatever skin he could reach - your hips, your thighs, your stomach - as he breathed reverent nonsense. The words blurred, compliments and awed whispers of how good you felt, but it paled in comparison to the moan he released when you yanked at his curls and begged for him to finally move.

The pace he set was blistering, deep and quick and perfect, and you marveled at how right his touch felt. Every snap of his hips, every brush of his mouth against your skin, every whispered word of praise; it felt as if each was a puzzle piece, suddenly falling into place.

Though he took great care to ensure your pleasure, he made no attempt to treat you like a doll, like something that might shatter beneath his touch, and you were grateful for the heavy press of his hands to your skin as he pawed at your thighs. Almost immediately, you understood one another - both quickly fell into step beside one another - and you felt the flames he’d been fanning begin to grow out of control.

Heat engulfed you, body burning with every swipe of his fingers and snap of his hips, and it grew harder to draw your breath as his fingers found your clit. Eddie nipped at your jaw, breath fanning over your skin and sending goosebumps erupting, as he encouraged, “Come for me, princess. Wanna feel you.”

With anyone else, you might’ve been embarrassed at how quickly you barreled toward your release - at how eager you were to give in and come just because he asked - but this was Eddie. Anything he wanted, you would at least consider, and your body knew it well. So with a few swipes of his fingers and another snap of his hips, you barreled over the edge with a cry of his name.

Almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting for you, he followed suit. One, two, three snaps of his hips before he buried his face in the crook of your neck and came with a moan that you knew would play on a loop in your happiest of dreams.

For a few moments after, you both lay still - Eddie with his head buried in the crook of your neck, hands still stroking your heated skin; you, with your eyes shut and lips parted as you caught your breath, fingers raking through his curls. It was blissful, a moment you’d dreamt about, but the dream was interrupted by reality as discomfort began to set in.

When you began to squirm, Eddie quickly pulled away - pulled out and cooed when you whimpered at the loss - and tossed the used condom into the bin beside your bed before returning to lay beside you. He pulled you close, wrapped his arms around you and tugged you into his chest, and you both lay in silence for a long moment before he spoke.

“So, you wanna actually watch those movies now?”

With a laugh, you tipped your head and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Mm. Give me a minute. Gotta return to the land of the living first.”

“Take your time, princess. When you do, though, maybe you can return as my girlfriend.”

Eddie could almost certainly feel your smile, grin bright and happy as you hummed against his skin. “Yeah,” you agreed easily, not bothering to hide the giddiness you felt, “I think that can be arranged.”

Though it wasn’t how you pictured your evening, you knew it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. And, while Steve would be annoying, you couldn’t wait to venture back into the world with your boyfriend by your side.

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Author's Note: Take this away from me. I've been working on this forever but got stuck on the smut.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff, @valthevalkyrie-main, @crying-caro, @inglourious-imagines

#stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson filth #v's fics

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darlingdaisyfarm · 1 month ago

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Their reaction to tears (Stan & Ford)

Stan

Perhaps from the outside it seems that Stan is not a very sentimental guy. It’s wrong. Yeah, hugs make him feel nervous if they go on too long, and feelings? He’s spent most of his life avoiding those altogether. So when Stan sees you crying, his first reaction is to freeze. He’s really lost. And it’s you, so he can’t just brush it off or pretend it’ll go away. Not when you’re standing there, your shoulders shaking like that.

“Aw, kid. . .” he finally steps closer, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly feeling out of place. His eyes flicker over you, taking in your trembling hands, the hiccuping breaths.

He doesn't ask you for an explanation, he doesn't force you to pour out your soul. He knows that sometimes silence is better than any conversation, but the way he rubs slow circles into your back, the way his chin rests atop your head, you know he’s there. It's not very graceful embrace. It’s more like you’re getting wrapped up in a bear hug that’s meant to keep the rest of the world out. He squeezes you tight, maybe a little too tight, because that’s all he knows how to do. Hold on and hope it helps.

“Shh, it’s alright. I gotcha,” he mutters into your hair, though he sure as hell doesn’t know how to handle your tears, but he’s trying. “Whoever made you feel like this? I’ll knock ‘em into next Tuesday, swear to god.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-sob at that, and he pulls back just enough to glance down at you, raising an eyebrow like he’s confused by the sound. “What? You think I’m joking? I’ll even wear brass knuckles for the occasion.” his thumb brushes away a stray tear. He frowns, like maybe he’s mad at himself for not fixing it faster, for not knowing what to say to make it all go away. “C’mon, sweetie,” now his voice a little softer, “You’re tougher than this. You’ve got me. Ain’t nobody messes with you when I’m around, okay?”

“It’s. . . It’s so stupid, Stan, i don’t even know-“ you try to explain, sobbing and bursting into tears.

“Tell me, who do I gotta rough up for this? ’Cause I can call in some favors. I know a guy who knows a guy.”

You sniffle, laugh breaking through and he grins at that, just a little. He hates seeing you cry, but getting you to smile, even if it’s weak, that’s the goal.

“There we go,” he says, all smug and proud. “See? That’s better. You keep cryin’ like that and I’m gonna have to start cryin’, and trust me, you don’t wanna see that. I’m an ugly crier.”

Stan stares at you a bit longer than usual before continuing. “You know, tears aren’t your best look,” he says after a moment, his thumb brushes your cheek, wiping your tears in a way that’s more careful, gentle, than you’d expect. “You’ve got a real pretty face, baby, but it’s kinda hard to see it through all this mess.”

You laugh, even if just a little, because that’s. . . That’s just Stan. He’ll drag you out of your darkest moments, even if he has to fight the whole damn world to do it.

Ford

Ford is a man of deep thought, logic and intellect. But when he sees you break down in front of him, crying softly, trembling and sobbing, it shakes something in him that’s far beyond logic. His heart stumbles. The man who’s faced interdimensional monsters, who’s braved the edges of space and time, suddenly feels lost when he sees you like this.

At first, he doesn’t move. He’s watching you, brow furrowed, processing. Ford wants to understand, to fix, but emotions aren’t equations and you are something far more complex than anything described in his journals.

“Hey. . . hey,” he whispers, finally reaching out, his voice soft, calm, quiet. He’s cautious, careful, like he’s afraid of overwhelming you. His hand hovers for a moment before settling lightly on your arm. “What’s wrong? what happened?” Ford asks because he needs to know. He needs to dissect the situation, to piece together what’s hurting you so he can find a solution. But there’s more to it than just answers for him.

When you can’t quite form words, when your tears keep spilling, he gently pulls you closer, his hand resting on your back as he guides you to sit with him. His touch is gentle as he slowly, soothingly runs his thumb over your shoulder.

“You don’t have to talk yet,” he speaks, his breath brushing against your temple. “I’m here.” and those words, so simple, carry so much weight coming from him. Because Ford isn’t a man who offers empty promises. If he says he’s here, he means it in every sense.

And then, because Ford can’t help the way his mind works, he begins talking in that soothing voice of his. “You know,” he starts in a thoughtful tone. “tears are a natural response to emotional stress. It’s. . . it’s a sign of strength, not weakness. Your body is releasing what it can’t hold anymore.”

Ford is not trying to seem all smart and logical, it’s just how he comforts, by giving you the understanding you deserve, by showing you that it’s okay to feel everything you’re feeling, by explaining you. And when you hear him, his hand moves to gently wipe away your tears with the pad of his thumb, so careful, like he’s touching something sacred.

“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together,” Ford promises you. “You’re not alone in this.” he kisses your forehead, slowly, letting you feel his presence. And when you’re breathing just a little steadier, Ford tilts your chin up, his eyes searching yours, and there’s nothing but warmth in his gaze. “You’re going to be alright.” he says, and somehow, you know he means it.

#stanford pines #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #x reader #stan pines x reader #gravity falls #gravity falls smut #gravity falls stanford #stan pines smut #ford pines smut #stanford pines x reader #ford x reader #ford pines x reader #stan pines x you

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abyssalzones · 2 months ago

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can you tell us about your interpretation of the better world universe!!!! especially curious how stan/mystery trio works into it

hell yesssss I definitely can. ABW is maybe my favorite niche gf thing and probably the only "AU" I care about but that may be due to the fact that it's an AU that exists in the canon and we know so little about it. so it has an established foundation that you're left to fill in the details with yourself... it's like a poke bowl to me. you can put anything in there

and since I felt like it here's a bonus pic of them living their best lives pestering ford

[explanation-y stuff under ze cut because I got very longwinded]

as for specifics of how I see everything working out, there's a few key points that establish why things happened differently from canon, the most important being:

Stan agrees to hide journal #3 somewhere

Ford reunites with fiddleford and they begin working together again

both of these are already confirmed in canon, the first being the most obvious "schism" between timelines. literally everything in ABW is the way it is because stan made a different decision. kind of crazy in terms of its implications: I feel like that moment in the basement is a really good example of how stan gets so few opportunities to shape her own life (while ford is in the picture...) because of her role as the 'black sheep' twin. it's not exactly a premeditated decision to push ford into the portal, it's her acting on feelings that have been bubbling unaddressed under the surface for 10-something years at that point, and only then does she have any sort of power over the "narrative" of both her life and the story itself, something that from her pov has been ford's story. and in the canon timeline, she says no.

so like, what the hell made her say yes in ABW's timeline? this question kind of haunts me because I feel like it has to be entirely dependent on what the inside of stan's head looked like at the time. it's possible something influenced her, but overall I think it's more interesting if ford did and said all the exact same things up until this point and it really was entirely dependent on stan's decision internally.

so stan says yes, goes on a big trip to the other side of the world somehow, and buries journal 3 somewhere probably never to be found again. yay! but, uh, going on a trip like ford was suggesting would... take weeks. that would leave ford alone again. and not to have my established thoughts informed by new material or anything but bill did give him 72 hours.

so, next order of business: how in the fuck would ford convince fiddleford to rejoin him??? I'm unsure between journal 3 and tbob's information how ford may have tried to reach out to him but it seems like fiddleford was pretty adamant about staying away from that guy, out of guilt or fear of bill/the portal or both. I don't think logically it would just be a matter of ford calling him enough times or finding out where he lives- and I think that's kind of getting away from the point of why ABW is the way it is too. if stan is suddenly making decisions that are influencing ford's life, I think it would be similarly interesting if fiddleford also possessed some unique autonomy in this scenario.

aka I think ford got fucked up badly (possibly involving losing an eye) and fiddleford found him half-dead while trying to burn his house down. [mabel voice] romance!

to clarify: I don't think fiddleford is obligated to take care of ford. a major part of him leaving the project was finally making the decision to leave a situation that was hurting him, that he'd been staying in entirely because he still cared about ford and felt on some level he could still help him (which gets broken with "I don't need you!") and I think that's a very reasonable decision on his part. but I also do have to think about all the times ford has been "the hero" in situations where fiddleford ends up hurt and helpless because of something traumatizing. I think it'd be fascinating to see that reversed and have fiddleford actively making the difficult, messy decision to take care of that guy even when they're on miserable terms. and so begins like a solid week of these two desperately trying to look out for eachother in a nightmare scenario where one of them probably needs to go to a hospital + keeps getting possessed off and on and the other is going through the worst addiction/withdrawal cycle of his life irt the memory gun. yay! (part of the reason this even works To Me also is heavily informed by the lack of secrets: if fiddleford is actively dressing that guy's wounds he can't really keep it all to himself anymore. crushingly intimate perhaps...)

stan gets back eventually. such is the context of this pic

from there it's a nebulous grab-bag of things I think could happen up to the foundation of the institute.

how do all three of these incredibly fucked up individuals get along? well they don't but then they do.

how do they get bill out of ford's head without performing amateur brain surgery? idk. my best guess is a fiddleford and stan bonding trip into ford's mindscape that potentially helps answer the first question. possibly utilizing the memory gun. shrugs.

what's up with that one picture you drew of parallel fidds holding the memory gun up to ford's head? well. okay that one might or might not be something that actually happened but the idea was just that ford is coping badly with a few specific things and I liked the idea of fiddleford "holding onto" something for him to remember and work through later when he's ready to deal with it, it's an interesting reversal of how he's normally more of a memory sink.

from the point in canon about them stabilizing the portal so that bill can't use it to get into their dimension anymore onward, I think it just becomes a matter of them living the lives they could've always had in canon without realizing it. hence "a better world." some cool tidbits I like to think about:

stan gets to transition much earlier (late 1990's perhaps?) and probably starts going by "lee" instead

she's also the institute's CMO and is mostly in it for going on business trips abroad with ford. and the money. obviously.

the institute probably also legitimately changes the world on a sociopolitical scale outside of just interdimensional travel since their research renders them uniquely untouchable and all three of them are trans (I'm cartoon logic-ing a little bit here just let me have this one)

ford is the eccentric bill nye esque face of the company, fiddleford is the backbone. that isn't to say ford doesn't do anything as I think he'd always moreso be in it for the science than the fame (though it is nice to be more than comfortable financially) but it's an open secret fiddleford keeps tabs on literally everything, he's still very security-oriented.

the northwest family now has a more prominent ongoing rivalry with the pines family that could be very funny to think about. they've taken all the LOGGING JOBS with their damn SCIENCE

part of the reason I thought ford should lose an eye is because I think having him wear an eyepatch would be a neat way to parallel stan's "role" as mr. mystery visually! stan wears an eyepatch for no legitimate reason to keep up appearances as a schlocky tourist trap host, but it also alludes to her being more than she seems under the surface. ford's eyepatch does sort of have a legitimate reason to exist, but he also could just wear his glass eye and it would probably be less "conspicuous." he chooses the eyepatch instead because it's part of his image as Stanford Pines, Founder of Oddology, and because it keeps him safe. there's also a little residual scarring there from damage to his eyelid/tarsal plate which could easily represent him hiding the more "damaged" aspects of himself under his successes. ouch.

I'm unsure if ford and stan would ever feel comfortable getting back in touch with their parents. I know a lot of people go that route with fan material but I don't think they should have to. I think they're much happier now having healed the rift between them on their own and getting to live successful lives for themselves, rather than to prove something to their father.

that being said I do think fiddleford gets in touch with emma-may and his son again and they end up on better terms with time and a Lot of effort. tate's family is now composed of his father, mother, "uncle" ford (in the ye olde gay closeted sense of referring to your dad's partner as an uncle), and auntie lee, and I like to think they go out on trips to the lake together often :]

also ford and fiddleford tie the knot unofficially (in the eyes of the government anyway) in 1990. owed to stan somehow getting "ordained" as a rabbi. don't ask me how.

the pines twins start visiting the institute from a younger age than they do irt visiting stan in the show-- but they're only permitted to come along on heavily-supervised interdimensional excursions once they turn 12. cue antics!

anyway, hopefully this extremely longwinded and loosely structured mess helped answer your question. I like ABW sooo so so much you guys

#sorry this took a while I wanted to draw something extra for it ^_^ and I've been busyyy #lab notes #askbox #lab discussion #lab creations #gravity falls

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chris-prank · 3 months ago

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Ya i need to punish Dr. Seraph for ruining my plans/ripping my hero suit. Clothes are very expensive these days :(

So we tear his off and pound into him :3 !! ^^ ❤️❤️💯💯😍😍🔥🔥

Sub Yandere villain sidekick x Top GN hero reader

CW: NSFW, doggy style, top reader and slight teasing

So I got carried away and ended up writing around 1K words of smut…

Just like last time the reader is GN, it’s vague enough so you can choose if the reader has a dick or a strap-on.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

“Do you know how much it costs to make a superhero suit? And don’t even get me started on the anonymous fees!”

Real frustration could be heard in your voice as the unpleasant memories of dealing with your supplier came to mind. But you swiftly chased them away to focus back on the man tied up under you.

“I’m s-sorry, if I k-knew I would ha—”

You placed your finger on his lips, shutting him up immediately.

“I don’t want shallow excuses or explanations, I want you to repay me properly.”

Dr. Seraph looked up at you with confusion. He knew what your intentions were, you had made them abundantly clear, yet he couldn’t connect the dots. How is him being tied up with bondage tape directly related to destroying your suits? Furthermore, he was wondering why you even had bondage tape in the first place! The mad scientist wasn’t complaining of course, but it’s not like it was efficient to apprehend criminals in any way, except…

You must have brought it with you just for this specific outcome! That’s it! You had planned on taking him for yourself! Oh, how quickly he convinced himself this was the truth and how flattered he was about it. And no matter how insane this conclusion was, he was indeed right.

He waited for you to take your finger off him to ask for clarification, but before he could open his mouth you effortlessly flipped him on his stomach, making the man yelp. You weren’t finished as you grabbed his hips, pressing his backside against your pelvis. That was enough to make this genius's brain go blank. He was already turned on by the predicament he had found himself in, but now a primitive desire had taken over any sense of logic he still possessed.

“Since you seem to love ruining my superhero suits, I think it's time for me to do the same with your uniform. That's the only punishment I’ll accept.” You caress his waist back and forth before adding, “I’m sure you’re fine with that, right?”

“Mm..y-yes.” He responded with a feeble voice.

You smiled to yourself, happy that he was so responsive. You took a handful of the fabric in your fist and pulled. His pants ripped apart like paper, making you feel like you were unwrapping a birthday gift. You tore until every inch of his private parts was exposed. The man gasped at this vulgar sight and buried his head back into the pillow.

You, on the contrary, admired your work. In this position, Vincent had the most perfect arched back and his ruined pants gave him a particular disheveled look. Soon enough, you had taken off your suit from the waist down, tossing it to the side without a care. A rush of excitement came to you when you felt Dr. Seraph pressing himself against your groin while letting out subtle whimpers.

You grope both of his ass cheeks as a response, before spreading them apart. With precise movements, you poured lubricant on top of it and prevented it from leaking all the way down by spreading it on his asshole. You stopped and instead rubbed your tip against his entrance to make it wet as well. After you were done, It was slightly glistening in the dim light of the room. By now, his noises had gotten louder, his legs trembling in anticipation.

“Are you ready Vincent?”

Hearing you say his real name made his cock and hole twitch.

“P-please, p-put it in.” He whined, impatience filling his voice.

He had already put aside the fact that this was supposed to be a punishment. He didn’t care if you destroyed his clothes, he had other ones, but there was only one you. Hell, he would let you tear down his entire wardrobe if it meant he could be fucked by you every night.

You grab his hips with one hand, making sure he would stay up right, and you positioned yourself with the other to stuff him full. Vincent threw his head back and cried out a lewd moan as your cock disappeared in his ass. You weren’t even down to the base that he was already gripping the sheets, nails digging through it. You also noticed it had gone in easy, a bit too easy even considering the lub.

“Someone has been preparing himself for me.” You teased, sinking deeper inside him.

Blood shot directly to the man’s face and to his cock, much to his embarrassment. He was already rock-hard, but the simple fact of implying that he has been stretching his insides for you, almost made him cum on the spot.

“Nggf…I-I didn’t…A-aahh! Mng—”

“Oh but you’ve been fucking yourself at the thought of me, haven’t you?” One of your hands grabbed onto his dick, giving it a few strokes while you added, “don’t worry I’m not mad.”

Vincent tried to hold in a sob by biting down his lips, as the mix of both different kinds of pleasure assaulted his nervous system. Though, nothing could prevent the tears from rolling down his eyes and into his mouth while he tried to answer you, emphasis on “tried”.

“Y—Mngh…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, as he felt your pelvis against his butt, meaning ou were completely inside him.

You waited until the mess of a man had visibly relaxed, before pulling back and thrusting inside again with more speed. The sounds of flesh smacking together and Vincent’s moan filled your ears like a melody. The way you bucked against him without mercy was contrasted with your thumb gently rubbing his hips in a praise like gesture.

There was one thing that was bothering you, as you glared at the upper half of his body. You had rolled up his coat a little when you were massaging his waist earlier, yet it wasn’t enough. You took the base of his uniform and ripped it in half all the way to his neck, the roll of your hips never faltering. Satisfied, you bent down and kissed his newly bare shoulders.

“That’s much better, don’t you think?” You took the chance to nibble there too, “And now your outfit is ruined, just like all my suits.”

“Nnhg Uh-uhh.” Whines and moans, mixing together as Vincent wished to speak.

You smile against his skin, satisfied with this little punishment.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I tried to match your freak, so I hope you enjoyed it 💅🏻

(Oh and I can tell you that Dr. Seraph will have a lot of explaining to do the next day when he arrives in a wheelchair at a meeting.)

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steddiehyperfixation · 1 year ago

Text

don't you forget about me (steddie fic)

saw this post and was inspired to write something angsty <3

The first thing Eddie is aware of when he wakes up, before he even opens his eyes, is the dull, aching pain throbbing through pretty much his entire body. The second thing he’s aware of is that someone is holding his hand.

“Eddie?” The hand in his tightens its grip as Eddie begins to stir; the voice it presumably belongs to sounds immeasurably relieved, yet only vaguely familiar.

Eddie groans. His eyelids flutter, blinking awake, and he groggily rolls his head to the side to get a look at whoever had spoken.

The voice sighs again, “Oh thank god-”

“Harrington?” Eddie’s eyes fly open wide now as they land on the mystery man sitting beside him on the edge of the bed - a man he most definitely is not close enough with to be holding his hand, and a bed that is most definitely not his own. He snatches his hand away. “What the hell are you doing? Where am I?”

“Ed-” Another man’s voice, this one just as relieved and infinitely more familiar. It fills Eddie with relief too as he looks to his other side to find his uncle Wayne rising from a nearby chair to come up next to him.

“Wayne, what-?” His surroundings are becoming more clear. “What happened? Why am I in a hospital? And why the fuck is King Steve at my bedside?” Eddie tries to sit up only to gasp and wince in pain as the dull ache in his sides sharpens to near agony at the movement.

“Take it easy, son.” Wayne’s hand lands on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down onto the pillows. “You were hurt real bad.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Eddie grumbles out. He sucks in a deep, intentional breath and exhales slowly, the pain beginning to dull again now that he’s settled. His questions are still largely unanswered, though. Blank mind reaching desperately for any logical piece to this bizarre puzzle, he turns an accusing glare to Harrington. “Did you land me in here? Is that why you’re here, some sort of weird guilt thing?”

Harrington’s looking at him like a kicked puppy. “What? No, I-” he falters, takes a shaky breath and swallows painfully like he’s trying not to cry. “You don’t remember?”

“I don’t remember what? Will someone just tell me what happened?” Eddie’s confusion is rising more and more into agitation with every second he remains without an explanation.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Harrington asks quietly.

“I was driving home from school, just found out I wasn’t gonna graduate again.” Eddie frowns as he thinks back, still trying to put pieces together. “Did I crash my car? Is that it? I was emotional and not paying attention and got into an accident?”

Yet again, he receives no answers.

“Eddie, what month is it?” Wayne asks instead, his tone dangerously measured and serious. “What year?”

“May…” Eddie says warily, “1985.”

His words hold a weight he doesn’t understand, landing heavy on the others in the room and thickening the air. It sends a chill of dread down his spine, the way his answer etches concern deep into the lines of Wayne’s face, the way Steve Harrington seems to take it like a blow to the chest.

Harrington exhales sharply as if he’s been punched, standing abruptly and taking a few stumbling steps back. Wayne says, “It’s April of ‘86, Ed.”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. “No. No, it can’t be.”

“I’m gonna go tell the nurse you’re awake,” Harrington mumbles, his voice strained and his eyes glassy with barely held-back tears.

“I’ll go,” Wayne offers, pushing himself away from Eddie’s bed. He gives Harrington a meaningful look, though what that meaning is, Eddie can’t decipher.

Harrington turns his devastated gaze to the older man. “But, Wayne, he doesn’t-”

“I know, kid.” Wayne gives a sad smile and places a sympathetic hand on Harrington’s shoulder as he passes by. “Just talk to him.”

Eddie is thrown off by this familiarity between them. Since when were those two close? He feels like he’s entered some sort of parallel universe where everything is just ever so slightly wrong. It leaves an itch beneath his skin, uncomfortable and out of place, like he no longer quite fits in his own body, in his own life. He’s lost 11 months, apparently, and this world is no longer his; he doesn’t know where he fits into it anymore.

Wayne leaves the room, and Eddie wants to protest: Don’t leave me here with this guy I don’t know in this time I don’t know, please, you’re the only thing that feels safe and familiar! Anxiety is crawling through him like a thousand tiny bugs in his veins. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants to run. Anything to shake this feeling loose. But he’s confined to this bed, trapped both by his pain and by all these machines he’s hooked up to, and he sure as shit isn’t going to have a breakdown in front of Steve goddamn Harrington.

Instead, Eddie resigns himself to this situation and casts a sideways glance at Harrington who very much looks like he’s also trying not to have a breakdown. “I’m freaking out, man,” Eddie says finally, hating how shaky and pathetic his voice sounds. “I swear to god, Harrington, if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on…”

Harrington worries his lip between his teeth as he hesitates. “It’s a lot to explain.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Eddie scoffs out a humorless laugh. “I’m missing nearly an entire year, of course it’s a lot to fill in. Unless I’ve been here this whole time?”

“No.” Harrington shakes his head. “No, you’ve only been here about a week. I- I don’t know why you’re missing so much time, the whole Vecna thing only started like a week before that-”

“Vecna?” Eddie interrupts to question. “What does any of this have to do with the D&D campaign I was planning? And, also, how the fuck do you know about that?”

Harrington closes his eyes for a second and takes a breath, like having this conversation is the most painful thing he’s ever had to do. “I’m not talking about D&D, Ed. Vecna was a real-life monster from a real-life alternate dimension we called the Upside-Down. The kids only called him Vecna because we didn’t know who he was at the time and he, like, cursed people before he killed them, but he was actually Henry Creel, which is a whole other fucked up story.”

“Okay…” Eddie doesn’t know who ‘the kids’ are and he’s skeptical of the way Harrington talks so factually about monsters and dimensions and curses existing in the real world, but he does remember his uncle telling him stories about the demonic tragedy of the Creel family, which is the only thing that makes any of this even halfway believable. It still doesn’t explain how Eddie wound up in the hospital with his entire body feeling like it’d been run through a blender, though, or why the former king of Hawkin’s High was hovering over his sickbed. He gestures for Harrington to continue.

“I never wanted you to get involved in all this Upside-Down shit,” Harrington’s voice breaks. He steps closer to Eddie’s bed again, and he looks so so sad as he stares down at him that it makes Eddie’s own heart ache, just a little bit. Harrington’s hand twitches at his side as if he means to reach out for Eddie but then thinks better of it, running the hand through his hair instead as he continues, “I tried to keep you from it for so long, I really did, but then Vecna killed Chrissy in your trailer and the whole town blamed you and you were just a part of things then, there was no getting around it. You helped us fight him - Vecna. You kept his army of bats off our ass while we weakened his body and El weakened his mind. If it weren’t for you we never would’ve defeated him and we certainly wouldn’t have all made it out alive.” Harrington’s gaze softens, as does his voice, his next words almost a whisper, “You were a hero, Eddie.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Eddie says, like that’s the least plausible part of Harrington’s story. And, really, it is. He can wrap his mind around a lot of things: a murder in his trailer - sure, Forest Hills always was a shady place; the whole town accusing him of being a killer - yeah, of course, that tracks; even an evil wizard from another dimension with an army of bats - fine, okay, why the hell not. But Eddie Munson is no hero, and he’s definitely not any sort of fighter either.

“No, you never did think so, did you?” Harrington mutters with a sad sort of fondness and the barest trace of a wistful smile. “But it’s true. Dustin was in danger and you didn’t even think twice. You ran right into the fray without a second thought, sacrificed yourself so that the rest of us might survive. Those bats nearly killed you, b-” he breaks, choking on whatever word he was going to say. His eyes swim with yet more unshed tears. “I almost thought they had killed you, you know. I thought you were dead when I carried you out of the Upside-Down,” he admits shakily, choked up and barely managed, “and even when I brought you here and you were stable, I was still so scared you wouldn’t wake up…”

Eddie doesn’t know how to react to any of that information or to such a display of emotion. His own hands twitch now with the urge to reach out and comfort him, but he too denies that instinct. He tries for humor instead, something lighter, cracking a grin and teasing, “Aw, Stevie, I didn’t know you cared.”

Harrington makes a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Oh, Ed, you have no idea.”

“We were friends then, weren’t we?” Eddie guesses now, carefully. It’s rapidly becoming the only possible explanation for the guy’s behavior around him. “Before all the Vecna stuff?”

“Yeah,” Harrington manages, forcing a small, sad smile as his eyes finally overflow and streak his cheeks with tears. “Yeah, we were good friends.”

Wayne reenters the room then with a nurse in tow, and Steve quickly turns away and rubs his hands over his face. He needs to pull himself together; he can’t break down right now, not yet, not here.

He listens, distantly, as the nurse asks Eddie a bunch of questions and then tells the rest of them that she needs to take him in for some tests to determine the cause and prognosis of Eddie’s amnesia. He watches, numbly, as she wheels Eddie’s entire bed out of the room.

Steve can barely hear, barely see, his emotion clouding his eyes and roaring in his ears. He stares blankly through the open doorway and struggles to swallow down the ever-rising lump in his throat.

Wayne’s voice rumbles from somewhere beside him, but he can’t quite make out the words. “What?”

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Wayne says, the sound reaching Steve’s ears a little clearer now. “I asked if you were alright.”

Steve shakes his head. His voice comes out coarse and raw, “‘Course I’m not alright.”

“Right, ‘course you’re not,” Wayne echoes. He follows Steve’s mournful gaze to the door Eddie had disappeared through. “What did you tell him?”

“Told him he was a hero,” Steve croaks, “...and that we were good friends.”

“Ah…” Steve’s vision is so blurred behind a thick layer of tears he can’t see the sympathetic frown on the old man’s face, but he knows it’s there. “At least he’s alive, kid,” Wayne tries to be comforting. “You can always start over.”

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t- I don’t want to start over, I just want-” Steve chokes back a sob. He just wants Eddie.

It’s a horrible thought, but Steve almost thinks that this just might be worse than if Eddie really had died… Because how is Steve supposed to handle the fact that his boyfriend of 9 months no longer knows him? How is he supposed to cope now that the love of his life looks right at him and no longer sees him?

He closes his eyes, presses the heels of his palms into his eyelids, inhaling a shaky breath and exhaling an even shakier sigh. Steve whispers, “It feels like I’m losing him all over again.”

(part two is here!)

(also on ao3)

#i have plans to fix it don't worry. eventually. maybe #i'm really really bad at writing longer multi-part fics but i've got a lot of ideas spinning around my head for this one so #hopefully i will continue it if any of y'all are interested in more of this #steddie #steddie angst #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ficlet #fanfic #mine #1k #dyfamsteddiefic #<- tag to follow for this story

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f1goat · 8 months ago

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more than friends ; lando norris + part five

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile

part one / part two / part three / part four

You can’t stop staring at Lando. Everyone else around you is doing the exact same, you’re sure of it. He’s absolutely glowing right now. After his deleted lap time from the qualifications yesterday, he came back stronger then ever. It’s only seconds before they’ll hand him his deserved trophy for the second place from this race. A smile is plastered on your face while staring at Lando. Podiums look good on him. Insanely good.

Lando is literally glowing. Most people would blame it on the sweat, but you can’t even think about things like that right now. All logic has left your brain, you can only focus on Lando and how good he looks.

“You did so good!” You almost scream when Lando comes to you after his podium. He’s still wearing that glow from his podium. You can smell the scent of expensive champagne. What if you would kiss Lando right now, would you taste the champagne? If there weren’t this many people around you, you’d have loved to find that out. While Lando doesn’t talk at first, you continue to praise him and his race. Lando gives you a hug, something you gladly return.

“You know what this means, right babygirl?” Lando whispers in your ear while hugging you. You think back at the conversations between you two from earlier. Is he serious? This is what he’s thinking about right now? You wait for Lando to continue, he must mean something else. “I want you,” Lando speaks up again in a slow but firm way, “in my drivers room, so I can get my celebration right after debrief.”

You feel your cheeks heating up, they are red now for sure.

“Can you do that for me babygirl?” Lando continues to ask you. You can’t seem to get out any word right now, so you answer him with a nod. If you did know what to say, you’re sure the words would get lost on your tongue. Lando makes things even worse by pressing a small kiss against your forehead. You wish you could feel his lips on yours right now, but you’re fully aware of all the cameras around you. Tomorrow - or maybe even this afternoon already - you will see this fragment of your life all over social media.

You’re no stranger to social media, but whenever Lando and you make an appearance together somewhere you’re socials seem to fill up with hate.

Lando walks away from you. It’s clear what you need to do right now. He was quite obvious about his wishes and who are you to deny those for him? Without thinking about it further, you walk back towards the McLaren motorhome. It’s not hard to get into Lando his drivers room, probably because everyone around you knows who you are - and that if they say no, they’ll have to deal with an angry Lando, but you don’t know about that. Instead of making some conversation with the cheerful people who are still around, you walk straight towards Lando his drivers room.

When you enter his room, you start to feel a bit nervous. What does Lando expect from you? He made his wishes clear, yesterday and today. Apparently he wants to eat you out? The thought alone makes you feel even more nervous. Although you have no idea why. Lando is probably pretty good at it, so it will be more of a celebration for you then for him. Right? Maybe it’s the thought of Lando seeing everything of you that makes you nervous. He hasn’t seen your private parts before. What if they don’t look good enough? Normally Lando dates models, you bet they look a lot better then you.

You try to shake off the negative thoughts and focus on your Instagram. The story you posted a it earlier about Lando on his podium, is getting a lot of reactions. You scroll through every one of them. When you see a notification from Lando popping up, you almost drop your phone on the floor. Is he serious?

Lando: 5 minutes babe x

Lando: maybe you can already lose some clothes :))

Only the thought about you waiting for Lando in his drivers room in only your lingerie - or maybe even naked, makes you feel too many things at once. Your stomach tightens when you think about it, you don’t know if it’s because of excitement or nerves. Without realizing it, you’re already kicking off your sneakers. Your next movements are going on automatic pilot. At this moment you don’t think about all the people who can simply just walk in and see you like this. It doesn’t even come up in your mind right now. You can only focus on doing what Lando asked you and pleasing him. In a short period of time, the floor is covered in the clothes you were wearing before. The only thing left on your body is your lingerie. It’s a simple black set, nothing too exciting but it does look nice. You think about buying an orange set someday. Are you going to keep it on or not? You doubt. Eventually you decide to fuck it and take it off as well.

You thank the warm weather of today and of this country. The thought of Lando who can be here any second, is enough to make you shiver. It feels strange to wait for Lando naked, certainly while being in his drivers room. Then you realize that Lando has never seen you like this before. The cons are starting to weight up. You start to doubt yourself more and more. What if he doesn’t like the way you look?

When the door opens you’re extremely aware of your surroundings and your own bareness. Why does it only occur to you now that literally everyone can walk in here? You let out a relieved sound when you see that it’s Lando who opened the door. Lando has never closed a door faster. When he sees the way you’re waiting for him, he hurries himself inside the room and closes the door quickly behind himself. After that he’s even more hurried to come close to you.

Lando can’t tear his eyes away from you. He realizes that he’s staring, maybe he’s even making you uncomfortable with his staring, but he can’t stop. At this moment he doesn’t even think about looking away from you. He never saw you like this before. Everything that happened earlier between you two always happened with you in clothes. Of course, he had some information about your body from the summery looks and the bikinis. But still, this is mind-blowing to him. It’s even better then he imagined and he imagined it quite often… He lets his gaze go over every small detail of your body.

For now his focus is onto your breasts, he notices the way your nipples are sticking out. They resemble small pebbles in his mind. He wants nothing more then to shower them in kisses right now. He wants to feel them in his mouth until he feels them hardenen on his tongue, only to switch to the other one after that and experience it again. He lets his stare slide towards your most private parts. You’re sitting with your legs crossed over each other. He wants to see more of you. He wants to see everything from you.

It can’t be right that you’re the girl who has made the most impact on him. He doesn’t even need to think about all the other girls to know for sure you’re the most beautiful one. Seeing you naked has caused him to be rock hard in only seconds. His dick is throbbing painfully. He tries to remember himself that this is all about you - and not about him, but it’s hard to stop thinking about his own pleasure while feeling as turned on as now. You’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, with and without clothes, and it’s doing way too much to him right now.

You start to feel a bit uncomfortable with Lando his current silence. Was it a mistake to undress this far already? Maybe you should ask him. When you start to think about what to question him, Lando lets out a soft sound. It almost sound likes a moan. You look at him. Lando is still taking in your body. It looks like he’s looking at you full with adoration and lust, or are you making that up?

Lando walks closer to you. He takes his time to get close in front of you. When he’s finally standing in front of you, he is quick to lower himself so he’s on the same level as you. Then he eagerly puts his lips onto yours. He gives you a soft peck on your lips, before taking a seat next to you. Lando pulls you onto his lap. He makes sure you face him. At this moment he wants to see everything from your body the whole time.

He presses a kiss against your neck. “Fucking hell babygirl,” he finally mutters. He presses another kiss against your body, this time it’s to your collarbone. “I didn’t expect you to be naked already,” Lando continues, “such a beautiful surprise.” He presses his lips against your body again and presses multiple kisses against it. Slowly he’s getting closer to your breasts.

You’re already trembling under Lando his touch. He lets out a low groan. “Can I touch you babygirl?” He asks you. You’re quick to tell him yes. Lando takes one of your breasts into his hand, softly feeling around it. He looks at you to focus on your facial expressions, hopefully to find out what you like - and more importantly, what not. After softly feeling around your tit, he takes it in his hand and kneads it softly.

“Such a good girl,” Lando tells you.

Your stomach tightens. Your cheeks redden once again. Such small words, but their impact is massive.

“Such a beautiful, good girl,” Lando whispers softly.

Lando his attention switches to your tits. Your glad about it, because it’s probably embarrassing how red your cheeks are right now. Lando lowers his face to get closer to your tits. He’s still kneading one of them. You almost jump up when you feel his lips against your other boob. He presses soft kisses against it before he starts to suck on the soft skin. You quietly follow his movements with your eyes, not looking away for the tiniest bit. It doesn’t take Lando long before pressing a kiss against your hardened nipple. After that he takes your nipple inside his mouth. You feel him sucking on it softly.

When Lando moves back, you let out a soft whimper. Lando changes his movements. He moves his hand away from your breast, slowly letting it slide lower on your body. In the mean time he lets his mouth hoover over your other boob. It doesn’t take long before he takes your nipple in his mouth. Softly sucking it in again. It surprises you when you feel your pussy clenching. It amazes you when you notice that you feel yourself getting more wet. Lando his mouth is doing all kind of things to you, you can’t complain about one tiny part of it.

He removes his lips from your breast again. His hands are moving downwards. Quickly getting closer to your private parts. It annoys you that he doesn’t touch you where you need him. He keeps his hand barely above your pussy. You don’t even realize it when you let out a soft whine.

Lando on the other hand is quick to notice the sound. “What’s wrong babygirl?” He asks you. You notice the small smirk that has appeared on his face. It makes you realize that he’s teasing you like this on purpose. Fucking tease. You want to tell him, but every word that leaves your mouth is begging Lando to do something about the way you’re feeling.

“I need you,” you softly whimper.

Lando lets out a low groan. Animalistic even. The whiny undertone in your voice makes him lose his mind. He moves himself lower, making sure to take a good position in front of you. You’re still sitting on the couch, Lando is onto his knees in front of you. He takes your legs into his hands, spreading them slowly for himself.

You look at Lando, but he doesn’t look back. All his attention is on your pussy right now. Before you can feel uncomfortable, awkward or nervous about it - Lando starts to shower you with compliments about it.

“Such a pretty pussy,” He tells you with a low voice. Carefully he slides his hand around it. He makes sure that he isn’t already touching your clit or entrance. Lando knows he’s teasing you, maybe too much even, but he can’t stop himself. He loves the soft combination from whimpers, whines and moans that are coming from your lips. It’s his celebration after all, right? When he takes a look at you, he’s quick to notice the frustrated look on your face. It makes him realize how much you need him right now. A feeling that makes him feel unbelievable good about himself. He wants you to never need anyone else like this. If it’s up to him, he’s the one who you need like this for the rest of your life.

He slides his fingers on your lips. Carefully spreading them a bit with his hands. Giving himself more to look at.

“So beautiful,” he continues to tell you.

He lets his finger slides through your slit. It surprises him how wet you’re already are. His finger is quickly coated in your slick.

“So wet already,” he murmurs to you.

He presses a soft kiss against the inside of your thigh.

“Is that all for me babygirl?” He asks you.

“Yes,” you’re quick to tell him.

“Who’s the one who made you this wet?” Lando asks you. He knows the answer already, but he wants nothing more then to hear you say it. He needs to hear that he’s the one who caused this.

“You Lan,” you softly confess, “it’s all because of you.”

Lando can’t withhold a soft moan after hearing your answer. He presses a few more kisses against your thighs. Slowly he moves closer to your pussy, but makes sure that he isn’t coming closer then your lips. You let out a frustrated whine.

“I need more,” you confess, “Please Lan.”

Lando presses a soft kiss against your clit this time.

“More,” you let out.

Lando grins. He softly slides his finger over your clit a couple times, but makes sure it’s still not enough for you. He presses more kisses against your inner thighs. A thought pops up in his head, what if he made you beg for it? Fuck that would be hot. His dick is getting even harder while thinking about it.

“What do you want baby?” Lando asks you.

He makes sure his finger is dangerously close to your clit right now. Not onto it, but really close.

“You,” you whimper.

“No, no,” Lando tuts, “What do you want me to do?”

Lando his question makes you silent for a bit. He moves his finger even closer to your clit. Softly he touches it. It makes you tremble under his touch. According to you, it’s absolutely unfair what he’s doing to you. How can he makes you feel like this with barely touching you? For a few seconds you wonder if anyone else can ever makes you feel like this. You highly doubt it.

“If you don’t tell me baby, I can’t help you,” Lando teases you.

“Fucking tease,” you groan.

“Tell me babygirl,” Lando continues to tease.

You let out a soft trail of whimpers. “Please Lan,” you softly say. He just shakes his head. “Can you please do something about it?” You continue. Lando shakes his head again. “Fuck Lando,” you groan, “just lick me please.” That seems to work. Lando doesn’t reply verbally, he moves his head as close as he can towards your pussy.

He finally starts to do what you asked him. You remind yourself to tell him what you want sooner the next time - knowing Lando, he will be acting like this a whole lot more. Lando slowly licks around your vagina. He makes sure to lick every part of it before turning his attention to his clit. Still teasing you. When he finally reaches your clit, he presses a soft kiss against it. When you want to let out another beg - for Lando to finally do something, he already starts to place soft, small licks onto it. He’s making sure that he’s not going to fast, but also not to slow. He wants to do this right. He wants you to enjoy this just as much as he is doing right now. When you let out multiple moans, Lando increases his pace a bit.

In the mean time he slides his finger around your slit. He slowly brings his finger to your entrance, but doesn’t push it inside. Yet. Lando knows really well how much he’s teasing you, but he can’t help himself. He loves the way you response to him and the soft begs that are leaving your lips. All because of him. He has fallen in love with the desperate voice you use when you beg him for something. Lando wants to know for sure that he’s the one who makes you feel like this and that you need him.

You buck your hips. Hopefully Lando gets the hint and finally puts his finger inside. Maybe even more then one now that you think about it. Lando doesn’t respond to your earlier movement. You open your eyes, which you had closes the whole time. To your surprise Lando is already looking at you. Staring even. Before you speak up, you admire the way he looks between your legs. You move your hands to his curls, softly tugging on them.

Lando still makes soft licks onto your clitoris. It’s making you feel all kind of things. Sometimes he switches a bit and licks around your whole slit. But the things he’s doing to your clit right now, those are the best. Even though you still want more. Greedy, isn’t it?

“Lan,” you speak up with a soft voice. He raises his eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue. “I need more,” you tell him. Your cheeks redden from embarrassment when you tell him that. Lando removes his mouth from you and takes a good look at you. His fingers replace the movements his tongue made earlier. It still feels good, but not as good as his tongue.

“More?” He asks you.

“Please,” you beg.

“Tell me what you want babygirl,” Lando states. He increases his pace with his finger. He likes looking at you while you look like this. You’re shaking underneath his touch. Moans are trembling over your lips like they’re your new language. Lando wishes he could save this memory so he could look back at it and enjoy every small detail again and again. His cock is throbbing even more painfully then before.

“How longer you take, how longer you will miss my tongue onto your pussy,” Lando tells you. He hears a soft whine leaving your lips.

“I need your fingers,” you eventually confess.

Lando still doesn’t give you what you want. “Ask me,” he tells you sternly.

“Can you finger me?” You ask Lando softly with red cheeks. Before he can react to you, you’re already add another few words. “Please Lan?”

His boner almost explodes when he hears to soft ‘please Lan’ coming from your lips. He doesn’t say anything anymore. He’s quick to move his lips back to your clit and to move his fingers to your entrance again. This time he licks your clit even faster. He hear hard moans coming from you. Is it bad that he’s already getting addicted to the sound of your moans? He wants to be the only one who ever hears these sounds coming from your lips. He never wants to share this sound with anyone else.

Lando pushes one of his fingers softly inside you. He feels your walls clenching around his finger. Easily he pushes in and outside of you. It doesn’t take him long before adding another finger. He increases his pace and really starts to finger fuck you. In the mean time he focuses on eating you out. He softly sucks on your clit. It makes you almost scream from pleasure.

“Fuck Lan,” you moan when he sucks even harder on your clit.

He doesn’t response verbally, but he keeps increasing his pace. He even adds a third finger. Your wells are starting to clench around his fingers more and more. Patiently he waits for you to come. He feels your clitoris starting to throb inside his mouth. You feel your stomach tighten. Moans keep coming out of your mouth. You can’t stop yourself.

“I’m close,” you tell Lando. He reacts by sucking even harder. He moves his fingers even faster inside you. He gives all his attention to the soft, spongy spot inside you. You let out another hard moan.

“Can I come?” You suddenly ask him.

Lando feels overwhelmed by your sudden question. Fuck. It’s insane how it feels that you’re asking him for permission to come. You’ll literally be the death of him. While Lando doesn’t know how to respond at first, you are having more trouble with holding back your orgasm. The waves of pleasure are already hitting over you in a fast pace. You’re really close.

“Lan?” You quickly ask, hoping that he will respond to your question.

He removes his lips from your clit for a couple seconds. Not any longer then necessary. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you before taking your clit back in his mouth again. Softly sucking it before licking it with a fast pace. He focuses his gaze on your face. He can’t look away from you. When your orgasm hits you, Lando notices everything about it. He sees the way you close your eyes when the first waves hit you. He notices the way your lips are partly open, only to let out a couple soft moans. When you press your legs a bit more together, Lando stops his movements and pulls back. He doesn’t want to overstimulate you. At least, not today. It would be a nice thing to do in the future.

Lando waits for you to say something. In the mean time he sucks your wetness off his own fingers. He takes place next to you on the couch. You quickly let your body rest against him.

“Fuck,” you mutter, “that was really good.”

Lando shows you a small grin. “Glad you liked it,” he says. His cock is still throbbing inside of his race suit. “You taste better then the champagne,” he tells you. You let out a laugh. Without thinking about it you press a kiss against Lando his lips, he’s quick to turn it into more. When his tongue slides into your mouth, you taste the faint tase of your own slit on his tongue combined with the bitter taste of champagne.

Then you notice Lando’s bulge in his race suit. Did eating you out make him this hard? You let your hand rest on his boner.

“Maybe I can do something for you as well,” you tell Lando with a soft voice.

“I wish,” he grunts almost annoyed, “but we have a dinner and a party to get ready for.”

“Maybe later tonight?” You suggest.

“I like the way your thinking babygirl,” Lando softly laughs.

“You still deserve a celebration as well,” you tell Lando.

“Believe me babygirl, this was a whole celebration,” he confesses, “Next time I don’t even want to stop after your first orgasm.”

“You think I can cum more then once?” You ask confused.

“Add a lesson about overstimulation to your teaching plan babe,” Lando tells you jokingly, but none of his words are a joke. He wants to spend the whole evening between your legs and pull every orgasm out of you that you have. Leaving not even one of them for anyone else.

“Deal,” you react.

Lando can only smile after that. How did this even happen to him? It feels like he’s living his dream, but when he thinks about the fact that you’re still ‘just friends’ they shatter apart.

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starbylers · 5 months ago

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About the playlist:

Finn was very much capable of making it private. He didn’t. He chose to display this publicly. If it was personal and he didn’t want it scrutinised he would’ve kept it to himself. At the very least he clearly doesn’t care who sees it. It’s not in any way invasive to discuss unless someone is using it to make assumptions about a real person instead of a character.

He is not unaware of his fanbase. The guy has over 200k followers on Spotify and is verified, and he knows he is most famous for the hit show he stars on. A hit show he is currently filming. And he decided to make a playlist with “ST” blatantly in the title. You decide if he had no idea what he was doing lol. If it was just a bunch of songs he likes he typically titles those things like ‘the tunes’, ‘jams’, ‘summer’ or even just ‘my playlist’. Things that actually make sense in that context. “STurn” does not, in fact it’s completely nonsensical unless you assume there’s some non-surface meaning there.

There are songs incredibly specific in terms of relating to the themes of Mike’s storyline and also the show in general. To me, saying that’s coincidental on a playlist with such a name feels like the bigger reach. Also the songs are not random, if you listen they actually have a pretty cohesive narrative.

The last song is the same as the last song on Will’s official Spotify playlist…

He has made character playlists before! He has one explicitly for Richie. And also he’s apparently said he listens to music to get into the headspace for filming, and is literally known for it on set. This is absolutely something he would do.

All in all I think it’s logical to deduce that this is the playlist he’s using to help get into character for Mike. Other explanations I’ve seen just seem like skepticism for the sake of skepticism (which I understand & each to their own but also it’s not like he could just title it ‘Stranger Things’ or ‘Mike’ without getting in trouble lol. This way he retains plausible deniability). That being said if you’re interested stay tuned cause I’m working on a dive into the songs & how they could relate to s5 Mike :)

Edit: playlist analysis is now posted here!

#byler #I’m being pedantic but that capitalisation didn’t just happen lol he had to manually do it #he is a conscious human like the rest of us he is aware of his actions and presumably does them for a reason 😭

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cuubism · 1 month ago

Note

Okay but piggybacking off of your the moping Dream park is close to The New Inn post

What if Hob had finished his grading early and, while walking by, happened to see his stranger sitting on a bench, looking Very Sad? Would Hob approach? Or, would Dream notice him walking by?

Suddenly very excited about an idea I hadn't thought of before aaaaaaa

Richmond Green is the moping Dream park now, we're renaming it, it's done 😂 sorry to the people of Richmond

it's entirely feasible that Hob could just be on a walk and happen to stumble on him which is hilarious to me, it's so funny that you don't have to bend RL logic in the slightest bit for that to happen. it's a bit of a walk between the two but by no means a difficult one, I mean I literally did it the other day 😂 so Hob could 100% just be out for a walk on a nice day and be like hang the FUCK on is that actually my twit of a friend moping on a bench over there?

I honestly don't think Dream would notice him first. He was very much in his own head and in his feels. he was not paying enough attention to anything else to notice Hob. but Hob would 100% approach him, I think after all those years he'd have to seize his shot. Dream would be genuinely surprised to see him and definitely didn't consciously realize he picked his moping spot to be near the White Horse 😂 it worked out for him, though.

Hob's out for a walk on a rare, beautiful sunny day when he nearly trips over own his feet and falls flat on his face in the middle of Richmond Green.

Only nearly. Thankfully.

He catches himself, and turns, wondering if he's hallucinating what he thought he saw at the corner of the park.

No. He didn't. He most definitely did not imagine his stranger sitting on that bench. He's hunched and shadowed, where Hob usually thinks of him as stern and proud, and he looks sad, which-- alright, that's not so unusual. But the posture is, the idleness, the listless way he's tearing apart a baguette to feed crumbs to the birds at his feet.

Hob takes a moment to just... watch him. To take advantage of this rare moment when he's alone and doesn't know he's observed. And he looks... God. He really does look crumpled. Is he always like that, when he doesn't know someone's watching?

Possibly Hob should leave him be. But he's rarely done what he should. This might be his only shot.

There's got to be a reason he's here, of all places, right?

His stranger doesn't seem to notice him until Hob's right before him. "...My friend?"

Hob's heart flips as his stranger looks up. He doesn't flee, or call Hob out for saying 'friend'. His brow furrows in confusion. "...Hob Gadling?"

"The same," Hob says, though he doesn't go by that name now.

His stranger is still confused. "What brings you here?"

He really seems like he doesn't know. How is that possible?

Then again, he may remember where the White Horse once was, and have simply not expected Hob to be there, too. Which, if he were a more reasonable man, Hob wouldn't be.

"Just out for a walk," he says. "Nice day and all?"

Bit of a hike here from the New Inn, but Hob likes walking along the riverside, even when he has to pass the sagging form of the White Horse. And the sun's out, the weather's warm, people are out on the green with their dogs, kids are laughing-- who wouldn't want to be out on such a lovely day?

Well. His stranger, maybe. He certainly doesn't look like he thinks it's a nice day.

"Perhaps," says his stranger, and looks down again at the birds at his feet.

"Mind if I sit?" Hob asks, and when his stranger doesn't say no, sits beside him. He's situated himself deep in the corner of the park, under the shadows of the trees, able to see everything but out of the way for any passersby to see him. It would make Hob laugh if it didn't make him sad.

"I live nearby," Hob says, a continuation of his explanation from before. "Got a bit attached. It's not like me, really, stick around one place for long, but." But to leave the shadow of the White Horse felt like he was also leaving the specter of his stranger.

"You are always in London at the time of our meetings," his friend says.

"Wonder why?" Hob says to the air, and then his stranger does look at him.

"Couldn't risk missing it, could I?" Hob continues, rubbing at his ear. "I haven't spent six centuries in one place, you know. But travel wasn't always as easy as it is now. Had to make sure there was a buffer zone."

"It meant so much to you?" his stranger says, and Hob raises an eyebrow.

"Did my once-a-century meetings with the man who gave me eternal life mean so much to me?"

That doesn't really capture the half of it. His stranger looks away again as if conceding the point.

"Anyway," Hob continues, "after you--" he doesn't finish the thought. "I wanted to stay by the old White Horse. Figured that was why you showed up here."

"I had no specific intention when arriving here," says his stranger, which doesn't explain why, when he could presumably appear anywhere in the fucking world using his magic, he's somehow just sitting on a bench barely a kilometer's walk from their old meeting place. Hob really doesn't know what to do with this creature. He feels increasingly certain he was right about his need for friendship, however. And his unwillingness to acknowledge it.

"Well, since you are here," Hob says, "fancy a much-belated drink?"

"Very well," intones his stranger, and follows Hob as he gets up, looking like the entire weight of the world is upon him with each step.

Hob starts to wonder if there wasn't more at play in their missed meeting than his stranger's sullenness. He certainly hasn't seemed to take offense at Hob's familiarity so far. Hasn't run off, hasn't been too proud to stay. And he's here. However unwittingly. Like a stray animal curled on a familiar doorstep where it was once fed.

Hob doesn't take him immediately to the New Inn--besides the distance, he hasn't actually broached the whole our old inn closed down, I made us another one conversation yet--they simply find seats at the pub by the green. Neutral ground, Hob thinks, even as he silently mourns the lack of history.

His stranger gazes out over the sunlit park, lost in thought, as Hob brings their drinks back from the bar. "Here you are," Hob says, sliding the pint across the table to him. "Can get something to eat too, if you like."

His stranger wraps delicate fingers around the glass. "Thank you. But I am not hungry."

Never is, as far as Hob's seen.

"Offer stands," Hob says, and takes a sip of his own drink. He wants to ask. Wants to know why his friend's shown up now, when he skipped their last meeting, disappeared for decades. But he doesn't want to scare him away.

He does ask-- "What brought you here, then?"

His stranger looks at him, gaze piercing. "You do not wish to know why I did not make our last appointment?"

Hob winces. But well, if he's going to broach the topic. "Why didn't you, then?"

But his stranger looks away. "It's a story for another time. But know that it was not intentional. And I came to... regret. Leaving a friend waiting."

A friend. Hob lights up so much he almost misses the other part of the statement--not intentional. It gives him pause. It makes him... uneasy. A instinct that something isn't right.

But asking directly has never gotten him anywhere with his s-- with his friend.

"No matter," he says, with an encouraging smile. "I'm glad you're here now. And as for regret, I regretted how I phrased things last we met. So, I'm sorry."

His stranger looks back up at him, then, with a tiny smile. It feels like being blessed.

"Hob Gadling," he says, "You've lived your life for these centuries... without any grand sense of purpose." It could almost be an insult except he looks very sincere. "How?"

"Well, you basically told me to, didn't you?" Hob points out, and his stranger blinks once, surprised. "I asked why I was immortal, if there was some purpose for it, what I was meant to do... and you said 'just live your life'. What else is there to do, anyway?"

He wonders what it's like to live his stranger's life. It must be quite, well, strange indeed.

"I've got projects and things," he continues. "Occupy myself in different ways. But to be honest... no grand plan has become apparent. Living is the grand plan."

"And you still enjoy it," his friend says.

Hob clinks their glasses together. "Of course."

"Of course," his stranger echoes.

"Look at this day," Hob says, gesturing to the sunny park, the buzzing energy around them. "What's not to enjoy?"

That tiny smile returns to his stranger's face. "Perhaps you are right."

"Are you sure you don't want something to eat?" Hob adds. Now that he's sitting close to him, he thinks his stranger looks kind of... gaunt. Even more than the usual ascetic look he usually sports. "It's one of the things that makes life worth living, you know."

"Perhaps if you have a recommendation," his stranger concedes, and Hob grins.

He has less than zero idea what his stranger might like, so Hob picks up a few staples: chips, halloumi fries, even a salad because God only knows what a creature like this is meant to eat. He'd tried a variety in 1589 and got nowhere, but he's always willing to try again.

His friend studies everything with a critical eye, then delicately picks up a halloumi fry and takes a small bite. His expression doesn't change, but he keeps eating it so Hob takes it as a win.

"Will you tell me of your life this century?" his friend says, when he's finished the fry and picked up another.

"As usual?"

His stranger nods. He's eating the fries faster now, as if suddenly realizing how hungry he is.

"Don't choke yourself," Hob warns, laying a hand on his wrist to still him before he can think better of it.

His stranger goes still, looking down at where their bodies are touching. Hob almost goes to pull his hand away. He doesn't. His heart thumps once, hard, in anxiety-- worried his friend will disappear again.

He doesn't. Just studies Hob's hand for a moment, and then goes back to eating the fries. So Hob leaves his hand where it is.

"Well," he starts, ready to jump into the whole chaos of the last century-and-a-quarter, "I--"

"There you are," says a new voice, and a woman stops by their table, hands on her hips as she looks at his stranger. "I was coming to find you." Her gaze turns to Hob, unexpectedly fond considering he's never met her before. "But it seems like you already found yourself some company."

His stranger goes still, putting down a half-eaten fry.

"Don't think we've met?" Hob says, friendly but made wary by his stranger's posture.

"Not in a sense," she says, cheery, "but I do know you, Hob Gadling."

A chill runs up his spine, exactly the same as when his stranger had first approached his table in the White Horse all those years ago, and spoken Hob's name like he'd always known it.

"Consider carefully your business here, sister," warns his stranger, but the woman only snorts.

"Come off it, you know that's not why I'm here. I just wanted to check up on you. But it's sweet that you've come to care, isn't it?"

Hob hasn't the faintest idea what this is about. Sister is interesting, though. He hadn't ever really considered his stranger could have a family.

"I have not--" his stranger starts, but doesn't finish the sentence.

"Uh-huh," says the woman, and winks at Hob.

Hob still doesn't know what either of them is on about.

"Care to join us?" he asks instead, but she waves him off.

"I've work to do, I'm afraid." But she steals a fry from his stranger. "Mm! These are good!"

"...Yes," his stranger agrees, at length, looking somewhat put out about it. Now that Hob pays attention, they really do have a sibling vibe, and he'd wager his stranger is the little brother. The thought makes him grin.

"I'll come find you later," says the sister, patting his stranger on the shoulder. Then waves at Hob. "Bye, Hob!"

"Bye?" Hob says, a bit whiplashed. And then she's gone.

"Pay her no mind," says his friend with a sigh.

Hob's paying her a lot of mind, actually, but his main priority is not scaring off his friend. "I'm glad you've got someone looking out for you," he says.

"I suppose," says his stranger, looking back down at his fries.

He doesn't seem to want to talk about it, so Hob jumps into his usual spiel about everything that's gone on since they last met. When he's finished the halloumi fries, and started picking at some of the chopped vegetables in the salad as well, Hob takes him for a walk back down the Thames path, towards the New Inn. With every step he expects his stranger to disappear into shadow. But he's always there when Hob turns to check.

His stranger has always been kind of stoic, but this is taciturn even for him. Hob pauses by a bend in the river, just before the White Horse is set to come into view. "Did... something happen?" he finally asks. "Since last we met?"

His stranger considers, walking slowly beside him. "Have you ever experimented with magic, Hob?"

"Magic? Hell no. Got more than enough of a taste just being accused of it, thanks, don't need to repeat the experience."

His friend hums, seeming satisfied. "I would advise you don't, for lately it seems only to drive men to give in to their worst impulses."

"Power'll do that," Hob says. "What's this about, then?"

"It was an amateur sorcerer who kept me captive this past century," he says, and Hob stops walking.

He turns to his stranger, heart suddenly heavy in his throat. "Sorry. What?"

His stranger just looks at him evenly, as if to say, you heard what I said already. Suddenly the air seems colder, the bright afternoon sun some kind of glaring mockery instead of the lovely day it should be. His stranger's face is dappled by the shadows of overhanging trees, his hair tipped in gold, but his eyes are sad. His eyes are always so sad.

So then it wasn't spite or sulking that kept him away? It was something far more horrible? So then, he might have returned and conceded their friendship, if not for--?

Hob feels sick thinking about it. His proud stranger, imprisoned. So affected that while he may not speak much of it, it had left him sitting alone, listless, sad, in a place where he had once been offered friendship.

Hob leans in and, when his stranger doesn't lean away, pulls him into a hug.

His friend doesn't return it, exactly, but neither does he pull away, and after a moment, the tension in him seems to bleed away. He feels, well--he feels exactly like a normal person to hug. Hob doesn't know what he expected.

"An amateur sorcerer, eh?" he breathes, his friend's hair brushing his cheek.

"So he fancied himself." His voice rumbles through Hob's chest. "Though the magics he played with were very real."

"Must've been." Hob finally releases him, though reluctantly. "Does there happen to be a market for amateur sorcerer's heads nowadays?"

Now his stranger's lips curl into a smirk. "There might be, were he not already dead, and suffering eternally in Hell."

"Right. Well, that's something." No vengeance for Hob, then. Not that it was necessarily his to take.

Perhaps the force with which such violent urges rose in him should surprise him, but it doesn't. This is his old stranger, after all. Hob's stepped in to protect him before, though he didn't truly need it then.

Perhaps he needs it now.

"White Horse closed down, you know," Hob tells him, and his stranger's expression shifts in surprise. "But I've got a new place for us. Come along and I'll show you."

He offers his friend his arm, and is still surprised when he takes it. His grip is light, but steady. Hob gives him a small smile, and continues their walk along the path.

"I've banned any sorcerers from the new inn, you know," he says, and his stranger chuckles.

"Have you?"

"Well I certainly will if any show up."

His friend laughs again, a proper laugh this time. "Your defense is appreciated, my friend."

Hob can't help but beam at being called friend. He's a simple man, really. It's all he ever wanted.

"Be damned if a friend of mine ever comes to harm in my place," he declares, and his stranger just hums, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles. "Now, we're about to pass the White Horse," Hob continues, "but I warn you, it's not a pretty sight--"

And like that they continue on, the river quietly meandering along beside them.

#a rare fic that's extremely grounded in literal geography #dreamling #my writing #ask #anonymous

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bakuliwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Just to Be Held- Astarion x Reader

I’ve had this condition for two centuries, but truth be told? You were my first.

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Baldur's Gate III

Pairing: Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Reader

Tags: Discussions of sex, blood, fluff, hurt/comfort, emotional, body autonomy, Baldur's Gate III spoilers, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Affection, Gender-Neutral Tav, Astarion's POV, Tiny Kisses, In this house we cherish and love Astarion the way he deserves to be cherished and loved

Summary: Astarion and Tav share a quiet, peaceful moment together along their journey. Astarion learns that he is valued and loved. Read here or over on my AO3.

Sometimes, when Astarion drinks from you, it's overwhelming. The sensation of his teeth piercing your skin, pin-pricks in your tender flesh, warm blood welling up to greet his lips. He can feel himself drowning, every nerve ending in his body lit aflame. It's almost too much as iron bursts across his taste-buds, flooding his throat with the heat rushing through your veins.

He drinks to sate and never in excess. He's certain that if he let himself partake in too much of you, his mind might never rest, though it is tempting at times. All the years he's spent in darkness, forced to consume the blood of pests and creatures far less appetizing than you, have left him longing for sweeter meals. But he hadn't accounted for how utterly overwhelming that might be.

When he's finished, he pulls back, breathless and overheated. It's as if he's febrile. Sometimes, he's filled with a clarity, a strength unlike anything he's ever felt before. Other times, his skin feels like it's on fire. Like with the slightest coercion, he might combust. In these moments, all he really wants is to rest. But he’s never known rest, and he’s not quite sure how to ask for such a thing. So he resorts to what he knows: teasing you with tantalizing promises of illicit rendezvous’ or making some sort of snide remark before stalking off into the night.

Sometimes, his encounters with you end in said trysts. Most often, however, they don’t. It’s almost frustrating how unbothered you seem when, after he’s done feeding from you, he doesn’t initiate anything further. You sit almost passively, waiting for Astarion to make a move, seemingly content either way the night ends. If you’re not doing this for sex, he wonders, then why the hell are you helping him at all? Surely, no thinking creature would want something so important as their blood to be taken from them without getting something in return. At least, that’s his logic for it. It almost makes him trust you less for not demanding recompense.

So, no stranger to confrontation, Astarion decides it’s high time you gave him some sort of explanation. As you enter his tent that night, he greets you with a steely gaze, a frown deepening the lines of his face.

“Are you alright, Astarion?” you quietly venture, boots crunching over gravel. A small branch snaps under the weight of your steps, causing you to flinch as if the rest of your party is going to hear it from where they slumber. When they don’t come bursting through the tent flaps, your shoulders relax once again and you turn back to the pale elf before you. Your furtiveness is almost endearing, Astarion realizes, and irritatingly so.

“What are you getting out of this little arrangement of ours?” he blurts, crossing his arms over his chest and passing you the most petulant gaze he can muster. He watches a look of shock pass over your face, before it settles into something pensive.

“I- I don’t know,” you mutter, “I guess- I haven’t really thought about it as something I would ‘get anything’ out of. It’s just- you need to feed. And I’m happy to provide.”

“You know, most people would expect something in return,” he reasons, dissatisfied with your answer, “It’s not as if what you’re doing is a minor inconvenience for you, like letting me borrow a hanky or something. I’m draining you of something rather necessary for you to live.”

“I mean,” you return with a shrug, looking rather flummoxed by his outburst, “It’s not like you’re taking a lot.”

“Tsk,” he huffs, realizing he’s not going to get anywhere with this line of questioning. Perhaps asking you was a fruitless endeavor from the start. Astarion drops the subject, pouting as you settle in to let him take what he needs from you. You bare your neck to him, relaxing on his bedroll as he leans down to sink his teeth into you. It’s always the same each time: your involuntary gasp as his teeth pierce your flesh, the combination of both his and your relaxed exhales as he drinks.

Maybe it’s the humid night air or maybe it’s his own frustration, but Astarion feels the fever in him build with each sip he takes from you. A pyretic euphoria, born of longing for blood more nourishing than what he had to resort to for two whole centuries. He feels satiated by you and it’s almost- embarrassing. He feels mortified to react so viscerally, so enthusiastically. He pulls back suddenly, watching you wince as he roughly removes himself from your neck. But the irritation on your face dissipates when you meet his gaze.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you offer, your voice so gentle, it hurts him, “You seem preoccupied.”

Astarion hardens his gaze, gritting his teeth and opting to remain silent. Of course he’s preoccupied, but it’s nothing he wants to delve into. Least of all with you. But instead you decide to pry, speaking up with a tender, “Want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly, no,” he returns, glancing sheepishly away and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, crimson smearing his pale skin. He bites the inside of his cheek, snagging it with his sharpened canine, hoping it’ll stop the stinging threat of tears in his eyes.

“You can go now. I’m done with you,” he coldly spits, avoiding your gaze. He hears the rustle of fabric as you obediently lift yourself from his bedroll and make your way to the tent flap. But instead of opening it and leaving like you normally would, you pause, your hand grasping the fabric.

“I like being with you,” you quietly explain, turning to face the vampire spawn, “You asked me what I get out of this arrangement of ours. Well, I just- I guess I just like you.”

Astarion frowns, arms still crossed and posture stiff as a board. But he can’t hold his silver-tongue, despite his upset.

“Unfortunate, really,” he murmurs, unable to help the smile tugging at his lips when you laugh.

“I don’t need to ‘get anything’ out of this time with you,” you go on, letting go of the tent flap and striding back towards him. You kneel down, eyes filled with a brightness Astarion can hardly believe is meant for him. A silence passes as you wait for him to respond. He fidgets with his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists before he finally allows his shoulders to slump and an exhausted sigh to escape his lips. His body still feels overworked, heated and unable to settle.

“I assumed that sex was what you wanted from me,” he starts, still unable to look you in the eye, “Stupid assumption. It’s the only thing I’m-”

It’s the only thing I’m good for, he wants to say, but stops himself.

“Well, let’s be honest,” he chuckles ruefully, trying to divert your attention from his unfinished statement, “I wanted that, too. I mean, how could I not.” He says this with a sly smile, something impish twinkling in his eyes as he sweeps over your form. But then his face falls and he casts his glance to the ground again.

“It’s just- sex isn’t always what I want,” he finishes, “And I assumed that it’s what you wanted. So I guess I was- I don’t know- worried that you would be disappointed when we don’t tear each other apart like animals every time I feed from you.”

Another pause, this time filled with anticipation. With anxiety. For some reason, when Astarion has been around you lately, he’s found himself incapable of holding his tongue. He spills his thoughts left and right to you. It’s terrifying, the effect you seem to be having on him. It’s taken him a long time, but still, he isn’t sure he should trust you. Yet here he is, regurgitating deep-seated fears that are better left buried in the rot that’s bloomed in his mind.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he hears you whisper, pulling him from worry, coaxing him from the tendrils of self-hatred and disgust that have entangled him for two hundred years. He glances at you, disbelief in his crimson eyes before a rueful smile breaks his shock.

“You are far too kind to me,” he chuckles, a cocky smile on his face.

“I mean it,” you return, brows crinkling your forehead, “We don’t even have to touch if you don’t want to. And if you don’t want to keep this arrangement anymore, that’s totally fine. I’d be happy to help you find another source of food. I won’t be hurt.”

He eyes you suspiciously, scanning you for any hint that you might burst out laughing at some sort of cruel joke you’ve made, or some sign that you’re absolutely bullshitting him. The look you’re giving him is almost naive. He scowls, nauseated by your sincerity.

“Well, I don’t mind physical affection,” he mutters, desperately trying to hold on to his air of indifference, “Just-”

His shoulders slump as he releases a heavy sigh. He’s been worn down by your patience, worn down by years of keeping everything to himself. Here you are, offering up companionship without any expectation. Here you are, sitting in front of him, telling him that you actually, for some gods’ forsaken reason, like spending time with him and you’re not expecting any sort of compensation from him. So why is he trying so desperately to push you away?

“All I’ve ever been is used,” Astarion admits, wondering if he’ll regret this admission later. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, like it always does. “I don’t get a say in what happens to my body. I don’t get a say in what happens to me at all.”

“Astarion,” you breathe, gently cupping his face and turning his head so he can meet your gaze. His eyes are filled with a deep sorrow, the desolation of two hundred years scarring every crimson facet of his irises. In you, he sees no ounce of malice, no smarmy flattery, or deceit. All he sees is you, offering him your kindness, offering your companionship, expecting nothing in return.

“What do you want?” you go on, “Right here. Right now.”

Astarion’s mouth goes dry. His blood, your blood, threads through his veins like white hot needles. His nerves feel open to the air, every brush of the wind on his skin like lightning shooting through his body. Overwhelmed. He’s so overwhelmed.

“I just want to be held,” he finally whispers, and the absolute devastation in his voice threatens to break what little composure is left in that tent.

“I think I can do that,” you return, smiling softly. You let him take the lead, laying back on the soft bedroll beneath, waiting for him to decide what he wants to do. He sits beside you, cautious. He is raw and he is new, shivering from his overworked nerves, cold from the overpowering feeling of sweet blood in his body.

Gently, Astarion lays his head down on your chest and tenses, unsure of what to do. When was the last time he was gifted a moment to just rest? To just lay in the arms of another? He can’t remember, and thus, he can’t even remember how to relax. He shifts uncomfortably where he lays, trying to find some position where his arm isn’t falling asleep. You give no protest, patient as he rearranges himself. Finally, he finds something suitable and goes back to resting his head on your chest.

“I can stay as long as you’d like me to,” you offer, your voice reverberating through your body, before you both fall quiet.

In the silence, Astarion listens to the powerful thrum of your heart, the way it beats in rhythm to an unsung tune. He hears the air constrict in your lungs when he first rests his head upon you, before you let out a deep, comforting sigh. Crickets chirp in a jovial dissonance beyond the fabric of the tent and a wolf howls sorrowfully somewhere in the distance.

Astarion can still taste the metal of your blood on his tongue. He can smell it rushing through your veins, nourishing and enticing. It mingles with the faint smell of whatever makes you you, whatever pleasant natural musk you have that has become so comfortingly familiar over the months. The curling smoke of the fire outside has woven itself into your clothing, though it is not unpleasant in scent.

Astarion glances up at you from where he lays, studying your serene face. Your eyes are closed, eyelashes feathering shadows on your cheeks. Your mouth is parted ever so slightly as you doze, lips evoking pleasant memories of the way they’ve felt against his skin in nights past. He lets his eyes rove for a moment, searching the tent ceiling as if he’ll find something particularly interesting up there. He doesn’t, except for a small hole he’ll have to patch, come morning. Though, it is nice to see a couple twinkling stars peeking through the broken fabric.

As his eyes flutter shut, Astarion feels the heat from your body, cozy and benevolent. He presses further into you, wanting desperately to feel your closeness. In response, your arm wraps around him, pulling him nearer. Your nails tickle his back as you rub small circles into it. Snowy ringlets caress his forehead when a breeze picks up the fine strands of his hair. The earth beneath him isn’t terribly comfortable, but between you and the bedroll, he doesn’t much care.

For the first time in two centuries, Astarion thinks he might feel peace. It’s very possible, he decides, that in this quiet moment, he feels safe. In your arms, he could let down his defenses. Wrapped in your warmth, Astarion could allow himself to be vulnerable.

He slips his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers, quietly whispering that he’d like it if you stayed the rest of the night.

"Also, if you could possibly not tell the others about this?" he adds, somewhat jokingly, "Can't let them think I've gone soft."

"Your secret's safe with me," you chuckle, before smiling softly at him and pressing a tender kiss to the top of his head. He lets the feeling wash over him, calm and comfort him. When his body settles, when his mind finally manages to quiet, Astarion lets his eyelids fall shut. He lets you envelope him in your embrace. He lets himself sleep, knowing he’s safe with you. Astarion lets himself dream, and they’re the first pleasant dreams he’s had in centuries.

A/N: I normally do a banner for my fics, but I really wanted to use this gif I had made of one of my favorite Astarion cutscenes. It's where he admits to Tav that they're the first "thinking creature," as he puts it, that he's ever drank from. The line delivery is incredible, the way Astarion looks away is so heartbreaking and endearing. This small moment of vulnerability is one of the first ones we see from him and it just feels so special. I wanted to write a fic exploring how he might feel in regards to Tav letting him have the freedom of feeding from them. And I wanted to explore the idea that Astarion might find it odd if Tav doesn't expect anything in return. There's a later line in one of his cutscenes where he's very obviously self-conscious about the fact that he and Tav haven't been intimate in a while. His sense of self and value is so contingent on the fact that his body has been used for two hundred years. I wanted to write something for Astarion that would give him a peace, gentility, and rest, without sexual intimacy. Anyway, I could ramble on and on about this forever. Perhaps I need to make a longer post about it, so I'll get on that.

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checkertrains · 5 months ago

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Luci and Adam redesign/my version! 🍎🎸

Here’s the brief explanation n a bit of lore for why i designed them like this! (Warning, it’s basically just me rambling LMAOO)

Lucifer 🍎:

I let him kept the whole angelic aesthetic cause even if he’s a fallen Angel his features didn’t seem to get distorted or turn “demonic” (from what I’ve read anyways), so by that logic he can still be God most beautiful Angel, and it fit too cause Demons are usually more attractive or good looking to lure in people, deceiving people with their good look. He’s also kinda stuck in the past so usually he’ll appear in his heavenly robe or any old school outfits that he deems old enough

Lucifer in my version is more similar to his pilot personality, he’s more king like in this sense! And of course he’s pretty prideful, and is in denial about having Fallen, he still present himself as if he’s a pure Angel and hates having to interact with Sinners, he’s more lenient with hellborns as they are his rightful subjects after all. But yeah, anyone that isn’t him is often meet with nonchalant or cold attitude, he also doesn’t really care about Charlie whole Hotel, he doesn’t support it nor does he hate it. Cause it have nothing to do with him, he does think it’s a little silly and speak to Charlie like she’s still a child essentially. (He still like ducks in my ver heheheh)

Adam 🎸:

I wanted him to have something nature related in his outfit so I gave him some leaf lol, and his fit is changed so that it resembles a priest outfit more than a simple dress, the halo on his neck and hands restricts his powers, like a power dampener (I based them off of Sun Wu Kong headband!), the seraphim uses it to control how he acts, they can also communicate with him through them, commanding him without using too much energy, Words of god kinda thing. These halo can weaken him A LOT like at some point it can even stop him from using powers entirely, it doesn’t hurt him physically. The halo on his head make it so that anyone who look at him will only see a blur, or blurry version of his face

His helmet has three faces, when he’s wearing it he can see from either sides or all of them, it help him counter attacks, his exorcist uniform is just like his normal outfit, just with more gold, the horns on his head emit holy light, stopping any demons n Sinners from looking at him unless they want to lose their sight, he can also use it to gather up energy to shoot out a massive beam that can erase anything in it path. His wings are based on duck wings but more durable, water and blood can’t stick to it which is fantastic for clean up!

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alotofpockets · 10 months ago

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Not as it seems | Katie McCabe

Pairing: Katie McCabe x Arsenal!Reader

Reader pronouns used: she/her

Summary: Your girlfriend finds messages on your phone that make her think that you are cheating on her. What will happen when she won't let you tell her your side of the story?

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending), accusation of cheating, and some swear words.

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.4k

Katie was sitting in the living room of your shared apartment, decked out in her training kit, while you were still getting changed in the bedroom. Your girlfriend of a year, was always ready before you, you had no clue why because you literally had to change into the same kit. Still, you felt no rush as you still had some time before you would have to leave to pick up Kyra. When the younger Australian joined the team, you and Katie had offered to pick her up before training, since she lived on the route to the training centre.

You had left your phone on the living room couch, where you had previously sat cuddled up to your girlfriend. Katie didn’t mean to look when it buzzed with a new message but she caught your screen light up from the corner of her eye. The messages that showed up had her reach for the phone instantly.

EM: I can’t believe that she still has no clue

EM: See you next weekend! ❤️

Who was this Em and why was she going to see you next weekend? She had never heard you talk about an Em, and you hadn’t mentioned having any plans next weekend either. What bothered her most was that she had the early feeling that she was the one being referred to as the one ‘having no clue’. So, against her better judgement she unlocked your phone with the passcode you had shared with her early on in your relationship. She opened your conversation with the person in question, and without scrolling further she dropped your phone.

Y/n: Made the reservation for the hotel under your name

EM: Does Katie have any suspicions?

Y/n: None at all :)

EM: I can’t believe that she still has no clue

EM: See you next weekend! ❤️

Her mind was racing, there was only one logical explanation for the conversation she had just read, right? She started pacing the room, why was this happening to her? Why was it happening again? Was she just not good enough? Besides being extremely hurt, she was also very angry with you. So, when you came walking into the living room all cheerful, she snapped.

“How could you do this to me, y/n?” You were taken back by her raised voice accompanied by the use of your full first name. “I’m sorry but what exactly did I do?” You ask timidly, not wanting to upset the Irish woman more. She reaches for your phone that she dropped just moments before, and holds up the conversation to your face. You frown, “You went through my messages?” Sure you gave her your passcode, as did she, but that was something you had done because there was a high level of trust between the two of you, and not to go through the other’s messages. “That is what you want to focus on right now? You’re fucking cheating on me, and you want to talk about me reading your messages?”

“Katie, it’s not what you think-” She interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. “I don’t want to hear your stupid excuses.” You try to say something again, but to no avail. “Get in the car, we have to pick up Kyra.” You had never seen Katie this way, her face was stoic, and she didn’t say a word on the drive over to Kyra’s. When Kyra got into the back of the car she could feel the tension, so she opted on scrolling on her phone instead of getting involved in whatever was going on.

The three of you walk into the locker room together, and walk to your cubbies. Instead of sitting down at her cubby next to yours, Katie grabs her stuff, and moves to a free cubby down the other side of the room. The girls look between the two of you worriedly, they had never seen the two of you fight like this before. You don’t notice their stares, as your eyes are trained to the floor while you boot up.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Steph whispers to Kyra. “I have no clue, there was a lot of tension in the car but neither one of them said a word.” Some of the other girls listened in, wanting to know what happened too, but sadly Kyra didn’t know either. The team wanted to be there for the both of you, but they felt helpless not knowing what was going on.

Katie, who had enough of all the whispering, got up and walked towards the door, but not before turning around and saying, “Since you all so badly want to know what’s going on, I just found out that she is cheating on me.” Without another word she leaves the room, slamming the door in the process.

Now you know that all of their eyes are on you, and there is no way to avoid them now. “Y/n, is it true?” Leah asked, not sure what to ask, but she felt like you should be able to tell your side of the story too. It pained you to think that both your girlfriend and your teammates thought you would do something like that. “I did not cheat on her.” You get up annoyed, and head out to the pitch yourself, the rest of the team following your lead, probably more confused now than when they didn’t know what was going on.

You started warming up with your back towards Katie, and she did the same on the other end of the field. During the training drills you were running up and down the field, and every time you saw the angry looks that Katie sent your way, your heart broke a little more, until eventually you couldn’t take it anymore. You run off the field with tears streaming down your face, only stopping once you have made your way behind one of the supply sheds where you just slump to the ground.

It wasn't long until you heard footsteps coming closer, you looked up to see Beth standing in front of you. “Oh, honey.” She says when she notices the state you're in. Without a second thought, she sits down beside you, and wraps her arms around you. Gently rocking you back and forth in her arms, letting you cry it all out.

Only once you start wiping the tears of your face, Beth speaks up again. “Why don't you tell me what's going on, sweetheart?” Her voice was soft, and it almost made you sob again. “She saw some messages on my phone and immediately accused me of cheating on her. I would never do that to her, or anyone for that matter.” Beth listened carefully to your words, “Did you tell her that?” She tries. “I started to but she didn't let me finish. I don't want to lose her but she's so angry with me, and she won't even listen to me. I was only trying to surprise her by flying in her sister Ella for the match next week. Why won't she listen to me, Beth?” Your voice was weak as your emotions were high.

Beth had a feeling why Katie's mind had so quickly gone to this conclusion, but felt like it wasn't her place to tell you, if it was something that Katie hadn't yet shared with you. “I'll go talk to her. Why don't you go to the locker room, and stay there for a bit, okay? I'll let Jonas know that you need some time.” She gets up, and offers her hand to help you up as well. With another hug, Beth is on her way to talk to Katie.

Meanwhile on the pitch some of the girls had taken Katie aside as well. Katie usually wasn't one to cry in front of others, but now that she felt like her world was ending, she couldn't hold her tears in. “I thought I could trust her.” She tells them between sobs. “I really thought things would be different with her, why would she do this to me?” Viv puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Have you talked to her? In the locker room she said that she didn't cheat on you.” Leah asks. Katie shakes her head, “No, but I saw the messages. She booked a hotel for some girl and she talked about me not having a clue.” Before any of her teammates can answer, Beth is by their side. “Hey, sorry to interrupt but I really think you should talk to your girl.”

Katie shakes her head, “I can't Beth, I-.” Now Katie was the one not allowed to finish her sentence, as Beth interrupts her. “Okay, then listen to me. She didn't cheat on you, she was surprising you by flying Ella in for the match next week.” Katie looks at her friend in disbelief. “I understand why your mind went to this conclusion, but she's not Mandy. She's heartbroken even by the thought that you'd think she'd do that to you. Please go talk to her.” It finally started to settle for Katie, who now felt extremely guilty for accusing you. So, she took Beth’s advice, and headed to the locker room.

You hear a soft knock on the locker room door before it opens slightly and Katie appears on the other side. “Can I come in?” The softness in her voice was the complete opposite of the raised voice you had gotten this morning, so you nod. You sat on the floor in the far corner of the room, back leaned against the wall. Katie makes her way over to you and sits down in front of you. “Beth told me about your plans.” She starts softly. “I know I really messed up in accusing you, and not letting you explain yourself. I am really sorry for that. I never meant to break your trust, as it is very important to me. I will do anything to fix what I’ve broken, if you’ll allow me.” She looks up again, nervously searching for eye contact. “Why would you think that I would ever cheat on you?” Your voice breaks mid sentence. “I never thought you would, and I of course really didn’t want it to be true. The reason I thought that that was what was happening is because of something that happened in my past. I should have told you about this before, and I am not saying this to excuse my actions, because I know that I was wrong. I’ve been cheated on in the past, so when I saw the messages pop-up on your screen, my mind went straight back to that. Again, it doesn’t excuse my behaviour. I should have talked to you, and I am really sorry I didn’t do that. I promise to be better.”

You finally made eye contact with the brunette sitting in front of you. Despite your feelings on the current situation, your blood was boiling finding out that someone had hurt your girlfriend so badly in the past. “Who?” You asked with a hint of anger in your tone, towards whoever had done it. Katie was surprised that you wanted to hear more about that, instead of the situation at hand, but she answered nonetheless. “Mandy, the girl I dated back in college.” Katie didn’t expect you to reach out your hand, but she took it before you could change your mind and retract it. “What a bitch.” Your comment took Katie by surprise, and made her chuckle. Katie’s laugh was contagious, and you’re soon laughing with her. The laughter soon turns into crying from both ends, as you had pulled her in for a hug. It was a tight hug, one that meant more than words could express.

She sits down by your side once you pull back from the hug. “What can I do to fix this?” You think for a moment. “I need you to talk to me when something happens.” She nods, “I will do that next time something happens, I promise.” You lean your head against her shoulder, exhausted from all of today’s emotions. “And I need you to explain to the team what actually happened, because you made me out for someone I am not.” Katie nods again, “I am sorry, I promise I will fix it. Just so you know, none of them actually thought you did, they were all telling me to talk to you. And I will also promise that the next time they tell me that, I will.” She adds quickly, wanting to show you that she was listening to you. “Okay, and when you’ve done that, I would really like you to take me home, my head hurts and I am exhausted.”

Katie helps you up, before she excuses herself to quickly run back to the team who was still training on the pitch. She went to tell them what happened, like she had promised. She talked to Jonas about the both of you needing the rest of training off as well, and finally she made sure that Kyra would have a ride home.

Back home you lay down on the couch immediately, while Katie makes her way to the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water and some painkillers for your headache. “I’m really sorry that I ruined your surprise in such a horrific way.” She sits down next to you, leaving some space just in case you need it, but you quickly scoot into her side. “At least I no longer have to keep secrets from you, I hate keeping secrets from you.” Katie presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Oh, and you’re telling Ella that you figered out the surprise, preferably without the whole explanation of the story.” You say before wrapping your arms around her waist and laying your head down on your chest, getting ready to take a well deserved nap. “Okay, I’ll call her tonight. Does telling her I saw the two of you messaging about it sound alright to you?” You hum letting her know it does, before closing your eyes.

Katie holds you while you sleep, feeling grateful that you were giving her the opportunity to make it up to you. She loved you more than anything in the world, which was also the reason that she was so scared of losing you. She promised herself to improve her communication skills, so nothing like this would ever happen again, before she closed her own eyes and fell asleep with you.

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#katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe imagine #woso #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc #katie mccabe angst #ireland wnt #irewnt #ireland women

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