#especially since you need to get him drunk enough to convince him to do it

[ianthedebonair]

Ortega's this 🤏 close to getting a mic thrown at him. Bless his soul 🙏

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x gn!reader. during a slow week at the imp office,blitzø convinces you that there are better ways to spend your time waiting for a new client to call on. and honestly, it doesn't really take all that much to convince you, especially when he figures out a kink you've been keeping close to the chest. requested by the wonderful @blitzsicedcoffee. 2.75k

featuring: collar kink, light pup play, dom!blitzø, oral sex (blitzø receiving), blitzø using his tail as a leash, light degradation, penetrative sex. blitzø uses terms like 'pet' and 'pup', reader has non-specific genitalia, and a prehensile tail (so could be read as an imp or an incubus/succubus).

Flipping idly through an outdated Weapons of Wrath catalogue, you’re curled up on the sofa in the I.M.P. office, leaning against the arm of it comfortably. It’s been a slow enough couple of weeks that Blitzø had decided to start having you all work in shifts, and with him holed up in his office, you had the main room to yourself, waiting pointlessly for a new client to call in.

And holy fuck, you were bored.

Even thinking that thought seems to be enough to summon your boss from his office, and you jerk upright as the door slams against the opposite wall when he kicks it open.

“Satan’s fucking taint, how does no one in this shit-slinging ring want to have somebody murdered?” he complains, tossing an empty coffee cup towards the trashcan and missing completely. It bounces off the wall behind it and the lid pops off, spilling the remains of a couple of ice cubes onto the carpet. “This is still Hell, isn’t it?”

“Last I checked,” you reply dryly, returning your attention back to your magazine, thumbing a page over idly.

He arches an eyebrow at you, irritated by your lack of similar dramatics. “Since when do I pay you to just fuckin’ sit there?”

You turn another page with practised nonchalance. You know it’s only going to piss him off further, but, well… you’re petty. “Depends. Did you have something else that needs doing?”

Blitzø groans, throwing his head back dramatically. He sighs, straightening his posture and setting his eyes on you again. He considers you for a moment, an eyebrow raised, before he says, “So… you wanna fuck?”

If you’d been drinking something, you would have choked on it.

“What?”

He grins, shrugging. “There’s no point in soundin’ so damn scandalised. It ain’t like we haven’t done it before.”

You feel your face flush. “A couple of drunk hookups does not mean I’m going to fuck you in the office, Blitz.”

“Why not?” he asks, closing more of the distance between you. You clutch the catalogue tighter against your lap as though it’s some kind of ward against bad decisions. And this would definitely be one. Right? “Ya think M&M don’t get their fuck on on the conference table every chance they get?”

“Christ, Blitz, that is so not the po—”

“This is jus’ fuckin’ adorable, by the way,” Blitzø tells you lasciviously, hooking a claw up under the choker around your neck. You’d worn it on a whim, and you curse yourself for the way your breath catches despite yourself. Your cheeks warm even more as you feel the band tighten slightly around your throat. There’s a second where you hope he doesn’t notice, but Blitzø’s eyes widen then narrow, a downright villainous smirk blooming on his lips. “Ohhh… I get it. Lil’ pup likes to play.”

You swallow, finding your voice. “Blitz…”

“That’s it, ain’t it?” he continues as though you hadn’t spoken, although his smile twitches wider at the hitch in your voice. “You like bein’ collared, don’t ya?”

You hesitate a moment even as excitement floods through you. Heat pools low in your belly at the suggestion in his voice, as the way his claws graze the column on your throat as he hooks two more in the front of the choker. You swallow again, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue as it tightens the choker around your throat. He tugs on it, urging you to stand in front of him, and you do it without thinking, the catalogue slipping from your lap to the floor. Blitzø is standing only inches from you, his tail switching back and forth behind him slowly.

His breath fans across your face, warm and tickling. “Don’t you?”

You nod.

Blitzø grins. “Good pet.”

Fuck.

You can’t help the soft whimper that escapes you when he pulls you closer again, his nose skimming against yours. He’s watching your every reaction with hooded eyes, and you feel his other hand ghost down over your waist. It makes you shiver, and his smirk widens when you lean forward slightly to kiss him. Blitzø pulls back the moment your lips should meet, and he bites his lip with a cocky grin.

“On your knees for me, pup.”

Blitzø is half-hard as he palms himself through his jeans, and a soft growl rumbles through him as you tongue slides across your bottom lip. He runs a hand through your hair almost sweetly before he suddenly grabs a fistful of it, jerking your head back to meet his eye.

“What’re you waitin’ for, exactly?”

The pain only adds to the heat blooming low in your belly, and you reach up with eager fingers to unbuckle his belt. You lean forward to nuzzle against the bulge in his jeans, planting open-mouthed kisses over it until the fabric is damp with your saliva and his cock is straining against the zipper.

“Oh, puppy wants to play,” Blitzø croons, releasing a breathless laugh as you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock. You press a kiss to the underside of the head before parting your lips, curling your tongue around it as you take him into your mouth. His head falls back as the wet warmth of your mouth engulfs him. “Fuck…”

Blitzø keeps one hand in your hair as you suck him, the other lifting his shirt so he can watch the way you gag around him when he hits the back of your throat. You whine around him when you feel the spade of his tail slip under your choker, winding around it to pull it tight against your throat. He smirks when your eyes roll back.

“You’re a good little bitch, aren’t you?” he coos, voice husky sweet as you clutch at his thighs, hollowing out your cheeks as you pull back. He moans as you roll your tongue around the head of his cock and suck, his hand tightening possessively in your hair as you take him all the way in again. Blitzø holds your head in place, thrusting his hips forward to feel the way your throat flutters around his cock. “Fuck, you’ve got a nice mouth…”

You moan around him and the vibrations of your throat makes his eyes roll back. He presses his hips forward until you choke in earnest, releasing your hair as you pull back with a cough. Drool hangs from your chin as you catch your breath, and Blitzø reaches down to smear it across your lip with his thumb. You suck it into your mouth, biting down on it lightly, and he hisses through a sharp-toothed grin.

“Shiiiit…” he wraps a hand around his cock, pumping it against your spit-slick bottom lip. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you, pet?”

Your voice comes rough, your swollen lips brushing against the tip of his cock as you murmur, “Yes, Blitz.”

The imp’s smirk widens, his eyes dark and hungry with lust. You part your lips obediently, and he thrusts it back into your eager mouth with a grunt. His tail tugs on the choker again, and you’d be embarrassed at the way your tail wags behind you, but all you can focus on is the way Blitzø’s eyelids flutter as he presses his cock deep into your throat. You gag around him again before he pulls back, instead fucking himself languidly into your mouth. You curl your tongue to cradle the length of him with each slide of it past your lips, the taste of his precum downright addictive. “Then I’m gonna need to hear it, slut.”

You suck firmly at his cock until his breath hitches and he pulls back, gripping the base of his cock. He snickers deliriously, the choker around your throat so tight your eyes roll back as you blink. “Fuck me, Blitz.”

“Not good enough,” he grins wickedly, stroking himself slowly. He leans down, his other hand closing around your jaw as he brings his face down to yours. He forces your chin up, his lips a breath from yours as he growls, “I wanna hear you beg, baby.”

Dear Satan, you wanted to kiss him.

“Please,” you whimper, shifting on your knees in a vain attempt to meet his lips with yours. Blitzø pulls back just enough to leave you wanting, infuriating amusement playing at the edge of his smirk. “Please, fuck me, Blitz.”

“Hmm?” he raises a brow tauntingly, his tail tugging at the choker warningly.

“Sir,” you correct yourself, an edge of desperation colouring your broken voice. “Please, fuck me, sir.”

Blitzø grins. “That’s my good pup.”

He straightens up, stepping to the side and waving a hand towards Loona’s desk.

“Bend over it for me, pup.”

You make move to stand, and his tail tugs you back down again.

“Did I say you could walk?”

Fuck, he looks so pleased with himself. Still, you can’t help the little whine that escapes you at his tone, and you crawl across the scratchy carpet until you reach the desk. He nods and you stand slowly on shaky legs. Blitz unwinds his tail from your choker as he does, trailing the spade of it down your spine and smirking when you shudder.

“Strip.”

You feel a surge of nerves settle in the pit of your stomach even as you tug your shirt obediently over your head. Yeah, you’d fucked before, but those had been drunk and hurried and in the dark. This was stark and carefully paced, and somehow so much more exciting, and your fingers shake as you push your jeans down your thighs. You stiffen as you feel Blitzø press himself up against your back, his fingers expertly unclipping your bra as his lips find the nape of your neck.

A soft moan escapes you as he trails his lips to the side of your throat, sucking a mark into the sensitive flesh as his hands take hold of your hips, pressing his naked erection up against your ass. He shifts his hips to slide it between your thighs, and you whine, head falling forward.

“Bend over, baby,” he mutters, breath hot against your ear, and he squeezes a handful of your ass as you do as you’re told, pressing yourself further back against his cock as you brace your hands on the desk in front of you. Blitzø groans as you do, claws tearing your underwear away greedily. “That’s it…”

You hear him spit, excitement burning through you as you feel him stroke his cock against your ass, mixing his saliva with yours. Your eyes widen and you moan, a long, drawn out, throaty sound as he presses the head of his cock into you.

“Christ on a stick… always so fuckin’ tight,” he groans, withdrawing only to thrust into you again. With each slow push of his hips, he slides another inch into your warmth, stretching and filling you in a way that makes your eyes roll back. You bite your lip in a vain attempt to stifle your moans, claws digging into the edge of the desk hard enough to gouge marks into the wood. “Fuck, I’ve missed this…”

You don’t even want to think about why those words thrill you so much. You push your hips back to meet him with each thrust, and Blitzø snarls, hands clutching at the flesh of your hips hard enough to hurt. He lets you fuck yourself back on his cock, reaching up to hook his claws in the back of the choker and pull it taut against your windpipe. It makes you whine, your head forced back with the way he pulls at it.

“Bli—” you choke on his name, and Blitzø snickers headily at the eager way you ride his cock. “Fuck…”

“Such a good fuckin’ pup,” he growls, gripping at a handful of your ass. His tail winds around yours, the spade of it teasing against your thigh. He begins to fuck you again, punctuating each word with an unforgiving thrust. “So. Fuckin’. Good…”

You jump as the phone suddenly rings beside you, and Blitz curses as you flex around him.

“Go ahead, pet…” he grinds out, fucking into you hard. “Answer it.”

“Blitz—”

He tugs on the choker when you try to protest, and you moan. “Did I fuckin’ stutter, pup? Answer it.”

You whimper, reaching for the phone with an unsteady hand. You knock the receiver off its cradle, the phone clattering obnoxiously against the desk before you pick it up and shove it against your ear.

“I.M…P. Imm—ediate Murder Profession… Professionals.” you say, trying desperately to control your breathing even as Blitzø takes the opportunity to smack you hard on the ass. “How can I—hnnn – help you?”

Blitzø laughs at your tone, his voice tight with his own need, and you bump your forehead repeatedly against the desk as the guy on the other end of the line rumbles into your ear.

“I’m sorry, can I--  uhn… can I call you back?” you stumble over the words, teeth gritted together in an effort to keep your voice steady. You’re so fucking close, your whole body hot and tingling with sensation. “Blitz is… he’s a little busy at the—fuck. Look, I’ll call you back, alright?”

You slam the phone down and it bounces off the cradle, the receiving falling off the desk to dangle over the side. You moan in earnest and Blitzø groans, his hips meeting yours in a desperate, disjointed rhythm as the two of you approach the peak.

“Fuck, Blitz…” you curse as his tail tightens around yours, his claws pulling so tight on your choker you’re sure it might snap. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of it, your jaw hanging slack. Every time his hips meet yours, you let out a high-pitched ‘uhn!’, and Blitzø snaps his hips forward so hard the desk begins to slide against the carpet. “Fuck…!”

“You wanna cum, puppy?” he snarls breathlessly. “You gotta ask nice.”

“Please, sir…” you whimper, so close that your thighs tense painfully, toes curling against the carpet. “Please. Please, make me cum. I need to cum, sir, please…”

“That’s a good, fuckin’ pet.” Blitzø growls and he thrusts hard, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck. The feeling of his large, strong hand closing around your throat is enough to make you keen, and you all but collapse onto the desk as you finally cum, your body shaking with the feeling of it. “Satan’s fuckin’— FUCK!”

Blitzø cums deep inside you, clutching blindly at your hips as he shudders through it. You whimper with every touch he gives you as the two of you cum down, your eyes closing as you feel Blitzø bend down to press a kiss to your spine.

“Christ on a stick,” he moans quietly into your skin, smoothing his hands up along your waist and back down again. “Fuuuuck…”

You laugh quietly, breathless, pressing your forehead against the cool wood of the desk. “Pretty sure we fucked it up with that client.”

“Fuck it,” he mutters, his lips brushing against your shoulder blade. “They really want someone dead; they’ll call back after they’ve finished yankin’ it to that hot little whimper-y thing you do.”

“Shut up,” you retort even as you feel your cheeks warm.

When he pulls out you shudder at the feeling of it, patting you on the ass as you push yourself up. When you turn around he smirks at you, self-satisfied, and he hooks a claw in the choker and tugs you in to – finally – kiss you. He does it languidly, smiling as his tongue slides into your mouth. Leaning back against the edge of the desk for support, you wrap an arm around his neck, the other bunching in the fabric of his shirt. Blitzø braces himself on a hand beside your hip, pulling away only when your lungs begin to burn for a proper breath.

“Y’know, I’m preeeetty sure I’ve got an actual collar and leash set in the sex trunk in there,” he says suggestively, nodding towards his office.

You have to hope he doesn’t notice the way that suggestion, even after what you just did, makes you flush. “It’s still so messed up that you keep that shit here.”

Blitzø cocks a brow at you challengingly. “Does that mean you’re not interested in round two?”

“… I hate it when you’re cocky like this.”

“You fuckin’ love it, horndog.”

[cmkren]

— do you yield?

; gregory house x gn! Reader

Unsurprisingly, a night out between House and Wilson doesn’t end up uneventful. Tensions were strung in a-- stranger way, now with Amber in the picture. One of House's grand schemes goes sideways when the person he provokes ends up punching him right in the face. In an attempt to get Wilson in trouble (due to the whole curfew agreement), House got ahead of himself and now Wilson dumps him onto someone else rather than face the wrath of his girlfriend.

And of course, no one’s ever happy to see House on their doorstep.

a/n; sorta just ! Self-indulgent!! This fic leans towards sub bottom house roles, no sex just sloppily making out. Written in 3rd person, they/them for reader! Honestly not too proud of this, but I wanted to get this out 😓

tws!! Suggestive, minor blood play (like incredibly minor), and house bein house — 4.5k words

The plan had been going smoothly. Drinks were going down quickly for Wilson, lord only knows how stressed he had been to be downing alcohol like it was water, and thankfully for House he recalled scoring over God a couple years ago. Meaning he knew what had been haunting Wilson's always-ready-to-please mind.

The connection that Amber had been so similar to House had already been scrounged up, and even House would be lying if that made him think just a little too. Oh, nothing crazy maybe just the fact that if he'd been a woman, Wilson might have been all over him. Her?

The details didn't matter.

What did matter though, was his loss of control over the situation. House didn't know what he had been thinking. No one had been paying them much attention, and his goal was to just get Wilson drunk. Only Wilson. He supposed that he thought he needed to convince his friend to keep drinking? Maybe that's why House started drinking too. And maybe that's why he started picking fights with strangers.

It started off as passing remarks he made to Wilson, the infamous smug smirk that showed how he thought himself omniscient in a sense. That he was so sure he could read people like a book. To a certain degree, that was true. How else was he capable of coming up with schemes that would puppet the parties involved for his own benefit?

Eventually though, passing remarks would eventually turn into what seemed like heckling. No wonder he ended up getting socked right square in the face by a patron. House was always self-sabotaging, but sabotaging his own plans to sabotage Wilson's relationship with Amber? Now that was a little ridiculous.

Didn't change the fact that it happened though.

"Oh-- come on House, I can't bring you back to my place and you know it." Wilson's voice had some strain in it, one of his arms hooked around his friend's (questionable title given to the likes of House) waist as he led him to his car. "Especially not since you started this... this meaningless war." He muttered, the hesitance in his voice to say meaningless suggested that maybe he didn't think it was entirely meaningless. Perhaps a hint to the fact that he did find amusement in it. Hell, maybe even enjoyed it for a bit.

House was disoriented. Not by liquor, but by the fact that he had blood gushing out of his nose and perhaps even a bit of a broken nose at that. "She's got you on a leash, Wilson." He swallowed, wetting his dried mouth. "If I say I'm sorry for leaving you at the pound and give you a treat, will you come running back to me?" He spoke with a certain monotonous that always indicated that he was just being a dick. Everyone's heard it enough to recognize it.

On the other hand Wilson decided to ignore that remark and start tapping away on his phone. Scrolling through contacts in an attempt to make some sort of solution for this mess. “I’m handing you off to someone else House. Whether you like it or not—” he swung open the car door to the passenger seat, muttering a few ‘careful’s as he lowered the man into the seat. Impaired judgement kept him from stopping the bloody nose first, and instead opting to do it when he got into the driver’s seat first.

”Are you dialling Thirteen?” House tilted his head forwards, just letting his head hang before Wilson shoved a bundle of tissues against his face. In turn he winced and complained ‘oww!’ dramatically. “Better be Thirteen.” His voice all muffled by the tissues.

Little did he know, it was the nurse that worked under a couple of his former ducklings.

House usually didn’t care for the other staff around the hospital, but he cared when he thought he could squeeze out some information out of some. That’s what he’d done to them. But not only did they refuse to sell out their fellow coworkers, they had also exacted revenge on him not too long ago. They didn’t necessarily win but they also didn’t lose.

What they were capable of doing, was bruising his ego.

After that, the two just kept interacting. The rivalry the two shared was almost akin to a friendship, but neither of them would admit to such a thing. After all, they hated each other’s guts.

There was a mutual respect there though, hidden somewhere. Wilson liked to think that at least. He would mention it or make a comment about it to House but of course he was always met with a response like—

“Tomato, To-mah-to. Only respect they ever receive from me is purely superficial. Happy to see them go, even happier when they turn around and I get to watch them leave.”

Wilson had rolled his eyes then, taking it as another one of those jerky comments House made to be a dick for the fun of it. The longer he had let it marinate though, and the tone shift at the time, perhaps it had an underlying meaning to it. Or he could just be giving him the benefit of the doubt. Again.

The car engine roared to life when Wilson inserted his car key, his other hand pressing his phone to his ear as he gave his friend one singular glance to make sure he wasn’t doing something stupid. He wasn’t. Just popping some more pills.

”Wilson it’s—” a voice picked up. They paused, as if looking off to the side.

”It’s 10 pm. This is well after office hours.” They spoke with a certain exhaustion in their tone. Expected, to be fair. They were all employees of a hospital, hard to keep up a good amount of energy when you’re running around the place all the time. Especially a nurse.

”Listen, I know this is a big request but,” he put his hand on the steering wheel, grunting when House would knock the butt of his cane against his forearm, “House— you’re going to cause us to crash!”

“House? He’s with you?” They sounded surprised at first before it all melted away, “Oh, who am I kidding, of course he’s with you.” The tone of their voice simply went from quizzical to bemused really quick. “I’m not doing anything for that bastard— this is too big a favour to ask of me Wilson.” Their indignation to aiding him in whatever he was about to ask didn’t keep Wilson from having his foot on the gas pedal though. He was convinced he was going to have them agreeing by the time they get there. If they don’t agree well… too bad they were going to show up to their house anyways.

As the conversation continued out on the phone, it didn’t take long for House himself to realize who had been called to their rescue. It made him scoff in amusement, “oh yeah smart move Wilson. Get stick-up-their-ass to keep me from bleeding out at their place that’ll work out!” He raised his voice loud enough that he knew he’d be audible through the phone.

Wilson furrowed his brows, his mouth agape for a second as he struggled to formulate a sentence but they cut him off before he could.

”Bleeding out? What the hell were you guys doing?” The concern was real but they eventually sputtered and tried to backpedal, “you know we’re not close enough for me to be covering whatever illegal activities you guys are doing!” Which was reasonable reaction, honestly.

“No— no— nothing illegal!” Wilson opposed, having to fight the urge to just knock his head against his steering wheel. God, it was like having two children in each ear yelling at him. House was talking about something but so were they. It just became a garbled mess. Not to mention the fact that he was still driving.

”I warned you. We’re on our way.” In the end, Wilson stood his ground. Pocketing his phone, he would keep his eyes straightforward on the road.

__________________________________________

“You’re lucky to have a friend like Wilson.” They murmured, lips pulled taut as they dabbed a cotton swab around the other’s nasal area. It was reddened with blood, bits of it dark from it already coagulating and drying out. House remained still, for the most part. Pale blue eyes staring right at them, not necessarily happy about this situation either. He wasn’t even tipsy anymore, just sober and in pain.

To be fair though, that was kind of regular day to day for him.

House’s eyes looked down briefly, flexing his fingers. “Yeah? Well friends like Wilson end up dumping you to get butchered up on a chopping block.” Then he wiggled, “or I suppose on a kitchen counter.” Not even an amused noise from them. Just the knitting of brows as they were wary of his squirming to make his point.

They were firm with him, as many would have to be with House. A hand holding his face steady, thumb and index holding his chin so they could tilt his head if needed. House was surprisingly cooperative.

”Well good for you,” they paused their actions, giving him an obvious look over, “nobody actually likes old meat. Too tough, too chewy.” They scoffed, before going back to dabbing the bloody areas of his face. Unfortunately, he’d also gotten a busted lip. It wasn’t drastic but it was most definitely going to take more than just a couple weeks to fully recover from it.

House had his neck craned up, brows furrowed a little as he stared up at the ceiling. His eyes would shift downwards, looking to his begrudging caretaker. They had their lips pursed, their eyes a bit sunken from a long day.

He took the time to look at them though. Oversized band shirt over a pair of shorts. If he craned his head to the side just a bit, he could see that their shirt had hiked up just a little. Resting right above the small of their back, making it so that the front draped down but their ass visible.

His obnoxious ogling was cut short when he felt a dull pain, hissing as he felt just a little too much pressure being applied on his wound.

“I’m doing this for free already. If you want more, you’re gonna have to pay.” They muttered, voice thick with sarcasm.

House let sucked in a breath, “is this about the hookers? Just because I support sex work doesn’t mean I’ll let you drain me dry of my money! You’re not even a hooker.” He winced again, but not because they pressed too hard again. It was more a culmination of his leg and the busted up face situation.

For a brief moment, their eyes softened. They paused for a moment, pulling away and putting down the cotton pad they had held in their hand.

”Your Vicodin?” They questioned, as if expecting him to already be reaching for any sort of pill bottle. House gave a frown, not even really trying to feel himself to find said pill bottle.

He clicked his tongue, “must have dropped it back at the bar. Maybe Prince Charming will find it and return it to me and we’ll live happily ever after.” Actually, he was pretty sure if he ever came face to face with the guy again, he was going to end up with a black eye next.

They rolled their eyes. “I’ll get you something. Hold this.” They then passes him a bag of frozen… strawberries. Huh. Then they left the room, going to fetch something.

”Don’t even bother,” he held the frozen strawberries, and instead of using it as intended he opens the bag and pops one in his mouth, “it’s not going to even work.” His face contorted when the frozen fruit touched his tongue.

He supposed that was effective too. Brainfreeze. Maybe once or twice.

”I’ll just go on and skedaddle as soon as I can. Say, where are your car keys? A question of curiosity.” He called out, already turning his head to look about. When they popped their head back into the room they held what seemed to be clothes and a bottle of pills.

”You’re not getting my keys House.” They huffed, before walking back to him. The grown man sitting on their kitchen island with his legs dangling off the side, shirt bloodied and smelling of a rank bar.

This exchange caused him to raise a brow.

Not necessarily because they wouldn’t give him their car keys. But the fact that they held a change of clothes for him. Either they were just feeling generous, pitied him, or… they had actually planned for him to stay the night.

”Are you trying to get into my pants? You know, there’s different ways to do that—”

”Yes I want to have sex with you.”

The two stared at each other. His mouth agape as if he was going to speak, but they cut him off.

”No, House,” they gave an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose. “I’m not trying to have sex with you.” They dropped the clothes right next to him, “you just smell like dog food and shit.”

Then they showed him the bottle they brought with them.

”Ibuprofen? That shit doesn’t do anything!” House reached out for it, though his tone spoke of a child who had maybe received fish sticks instead of his preferred mozzarella sticks.

At his complaint, they clenched their jaw. “Either take some or I’m going to shove them down your throat.” That made him give a faux look of offence, “and you work at the hospital! I’m surprised Cuddy hasn’t canned you yet.” Though the look they gave him made him finally unscrew the cap.

They took a moment to watch him take a couple, before walking aside. “Go take that shower. I’m not taking you anywhere, but honestly,” they turned to give him a look, “I wouldn’t stop you from wandering out.”

House recognized that their first instinct might have actually been to care. Hence the actual attempt at cleaning up his mess. Even giving him clothes and letting him take a shower. But he also knew that their history wouldn’t allow them to just will themselves to be happy around his presence.

That’s why, as a fuck you towards them and Wilson, he was going to stay. Prove Wilson wrong by pissing them off they just have to go yell at Wilson tomorrow morning.

__________________________________________

The bright light of the TV flickered, colours danced along the surface of his gruff face as he sat on the couch. He made himself comfortable in their home, meaning he made a mess of the living room. It was almost midnight now. They told him off earlier, but after him not budging the slightest, they just slinked away into their room.

He knew they were still awake though.

It was that stupid pirate cartoon. Only played at night! When else was he supposed to watch it?

“House.”

He looked over, a clueless expression on his face as he then looked to his wristwatch, “is it early morning already? Wait, nope. Go back to sleep.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as if shoo’ing them away. From their own living room.

The look on their face wasn’t even exasperation or frustration. They just looked done. They walked over, stepping in front of the television screen with their arms crossed. “Turn it off, you need rest.”

He tried to look around them at first, but it was all but futile! He groaned, “get out of the way. You really going to stand there the entire time?” The irritation in his voice didn’t necessarily match the glint in his eye. Amusement, perhaps even a hint of a challenge in them.

They squinted their eyes at him.

It was always that. The look in his eyes that presented a challenge that was supposed to push people away. Yet for people as stupid as those who willingly stuck around House, it did the opposite. Before their own experiences, they always thought it strange for Wilson or hell, even Cuddy to entertain him. Because for a lack of a better word, that was exactly what they do.

Now that they’ve been in a similar position, they understand why.

“Does it turn you on to be such a dick? Surely you’re getting some sort of sick gratification from what you do.” They sneered, approaching him and his smug son of a bitch face. He stared, like he always did, before turning his head and sticking out his lip a little ‘in thought’.

Then he gave a shake of his head, his expression dumb as he said, “my body says no but my mouth says yes.” Then taking a moment before furrowing his brow, “actually, pretty sure I mixed that up.” Just another one of his snarky remarks that made the recipient’s anger burn hotter. It wasn’t even good, the things he said sometimes. Not objectively.

Sometimes they were so stupid that it provided the same effect. The same results. And that was all House ever wanted— results.

Before they could get in another word though, House graciously interrupted them. “I’m not kidding. Step away.” He nudged his hand again, trying to wave them aside. His other? Rested on his thigh. Running along the problem site, up and down as if trying to soothe. Not that it ever worked.

“You didn’t take the ibuprofen.”

That seemed to strike a nerve. “No— I did. Would my incompetent nurse like to see me try again? It’ll only keep proving that I’m right.” He inhaled sharply, wincing. “It. Doesn’t. Work.”

At that, they finally took one step to the side. Allowing for the light of the TV to light him up again. He was sweating, just a little bit, on his head. If he was in so much pain wouldn’t he get up and go? Or was there something else he was trying to prove? Surely he didn’t hate them enough to endure his own pain to inflict pain upon them. Then again, that would be a House thing to do.

Silently, they sat beside him.

House scrunched up his nose, turning his head as he shifted, leaning further back against the plush of the couch. "That’s it?” He let out a shallow breath, turning ever-so-briefly to look at them. They didn’t return the gesture, just staring straight forward.

”That’s it.”

There was a quiet lull between the two, only the over exaggerated voices of the pirate and the princess audible in their space. Quiet wasn’t really House’s thing, though. He turned to them again, arm raised to rest against the back of the couch, “you’re just giving up? Just like that?”

Giving up?

They snorted. “I’m not giving up anything. You were the one with expectations.” Then they finally turned to meet his eyes, “I’m not in the mood for games, House. If you aren’t going to listen, then you aren’t going to listen.”

For some reason, he looked confused. “You don’t just give up. It’s the one thing that actually makes you interesting.” He spoke as if he was the one getting offended. Even if he wasn’t planning on it now, they couldn’t help but feel some anger bubbling up again. What did he want?

”Then you should fucking leave, shouldn’t you, Greg?” They hissed under their breath, trying to turn back to the meaningless cartoon.

Out of all the petty things they’ve argued about, this felt the most genuine. Over an… animated cartoon?

”No. I shouldn’t. You’re supposed to— to…” he paused, biting his tongue. As if the Gregory House was hesitating. When there was virtually no reaction from his uncharacteristic doubt, he grunted. “You’re supposed to fight back. Keep me here.”

A look of surprise crept up to their face. “What?” They blurted out, turning back around to see the man with his head down, eyes flickering up to get one glance at their face. To see what reaction he had received. There were so many things that could be said. So many things they probably should have said. One of them being ‘get out’ which so gingerly danced upon the tip of their tongue.

His head swayed to the side, mouth opening once but then pressed together in a thin line.

This was probably the withdrawals talking. The pain talking. It wasn’t anything he could really stop from spilling out, either way. “Come on. You’re not stupid now, too.” He clenched his fist, then unclenched, nervously fidgeting. “You might be boring but you’re not an idiot.”

”Stop speaking in fucking riddles and spit it out.”

House scoffed, maybe out of amusement. He made eye contact again and straightened out his back just a little. “You hate me. I like pissing you off.” They raised an eyebrow at this, opening their mouth to speak but House shut them up by just putting his whole hand over their mouth.

”Shut up. I know, stating the obvious.” He mumbled, watching them carefully before slowly lowering his hand again once he deemed that it was ‘safe’. “But you haven’t made any real effort into pushing me out. And I…” he furrowed his brows, pinching the bridge of his nose.

”I don’t know.” It all came to an abrupt end. House looked at them as if he expected them to understand what he was saying. What all this stumbling over words meant. There was a certain look in his eyes though, one that had replaced his smug piece-of-shit look from before. The one they were used to.

Too many silences. There’d been too many between them in such a short period of time. But whose fault was that, huh?

”You’re saying… that I… need you? Or what? That I like you?” Shock was still riddled all over their face— a mixture of shock and anger that is. Every time they calmed down he always managed to rile them up again. That has got to be a skill.

A sort of relief seemed to wash over him as he leaned back again. He made a gesture with his hand, giving them another look. The ever familiar House stare.

He was still playing a game. Whether or not his intentions were to simply screw around with them no longer mattered. Because even if he was being genuine the bastard didn’t know how to express himself without hopping through loops. His reaction to them finishing his thought spoke louder than any sort of response he could have followed up with. Even if they said that it was completely untrue it was too late, he made up his mind.

His reaction also meant that the thought of them needing him wasn’t a thought he disproved of.

They relaxed, eyes downcast for a second before they met his eyes again, “you’re a piece of shit.” They muttered, eyes then shifting to his hand that was closest to them. His other was still on his thigh. It had been the entire time. Right now though, it slowed down its ministrations. His attention was on them.

”I should be proving you wrong.” They were slow, grazing their hand over his before interlocking their fingers with his. Warm. Stiff but not dismissive of the touch.

”But you’d see through me, right? Because you always do. You know so much.” He didn’t lean in, but they did. It was like the air had gone still, nothing held either of them back. Not sure House wanted to be held back in any way. Especially considering the way he looked to their lips, ever slightly parted for him.

He was quiet. Waiting. Wasn’t this what he expected? Or— something adjacent?

They tilted their head, lightly lifting themselves off the couch to reach him, leaning over him just a little. “You’re not stopping me.” They mumbled, taking a brief pause. Their eyes stared at his face, appraising him. What did he look like? Hazy. Supposedly, they should back off now.

They got their answer. Didn’t they?

“You’re such a piece of shit.” They breathed out before kissing him. When did the mood change? Perhaps the very moment they decided to entertain his childish game of feelings.

House didn’t waste any time to reciprocate. His hand moved off his thigh, hiking around their waist and pulling them close, so they didn’t have to hover as much. Mouths moving in tandem, both of them warming up as hands travelled up and down and groped. He tried to advance, but they pushed back.

”Don’t you even think it House.” They whispered against his lips, one of their hands on his other thigh and another against his chest. Kissing him again, he chased after them as they pulled back again to give him a smug smile, “under my roof, my rules.”

”Taking my credit? For this? Didn’t think you a thief.” He spoke, but his eyes were trained back on their lips.

“You think I want the credit for initiating?” They muttered, their hand trailing up from his chest to his face. “No. I want the credit for this.” They leaned back down, inching their bodies closer as they kissed again. As feverish as they were, the heat of the moment wasn’t enough to cover the sudden sharp pain he felt on his lip.

His shoulders tensed, what was akin to a whimper slipping past his lips. His eyes fluttered open, and he saw them above him. A gleaming of something besides saliva on her own lips.

House’s hand goes up, pressing it gently against his lip, “you bit me.” There was blood, not too much, but enough. It was the busted lip they’d nurtured, now it was bleeding again. Yet he didn’t find it at all insulting. Instead, he almost looked pleasantly surprised.

”Want me to kiss it all better?” They mused, chest heaving still, and giving him time to either accept or decline. Maybe they should have asked first—

“You’d be sleeping on the couch if you didn’t.” He hardly finished his sentence before he reached for them again, the two clawing at each other desperately as saliva and blood was smeared against their faces. They were kind enough to not do much more to fuck up his lip more, instead going to plant kisses against the side of his neck and down to his chest.

A few red imprints left in their wake, which looked like red lipstick at the time but would most certainly just look like dried blood in the morning. And most certainly not look like kisses.

The hickeys though— that was most certainly going to be a conversation topic between House and Wilson in the morning.

”Admit it House,” they murmured against his skin, their hands quickly working to unbutton his shirt, “you’re the one who needs me.” They kissed and gently nipped at his skin, their hands moving to his belt when his upper body was exposed for them.

He tilted his head back, hissing out a breath as he tried to muster up some words without giving them too much gratification. Looking back, he eyed their close proximity to where he needed them most. “Says the one with their hands practically down my pants.”

“Fine. I’ll take them out.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Guess they were both going to be sleeping on the couch that night.

[thelostconsultant]

Delicate. part 1

pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

note: Lando invites everyone to his New Year's Eve party, but Charles convinces you to join him on a hunt for food.

You knew this New Year’s Eve party was important to Lando, you knew he wanted everyone to be there, so you put on a shiny, dark pink sequin mini dress, applied some light makeup, then headed out to the club that he somehow managed to reserve for himself. How long he’d been planning this, you had no idea, but he surely went a little overboard this time. I just want to be alone with my friends, that’s not a crime, he defended himself when you pointed this out to him a few weeks ago. 

At the party, you felt a little out of place. This was the first time in years you weren’t entering the new year on the side of your boyfriend, the one you had broken up with half a year ago. It was a mutual decision, the spark wasn’t there anymore, so you didn’t miss him, you just missed the idea of clinging to someone the whole night. It was pathetic, you hated yourself for feeling this way, but there was nothing you could do about it. 

Your best friend knew Lando, but she didn’t get an invitation because everybody knew she spent every New Year’s Eve on a yacht in the Maldives. She tried to convince you to go with her this year, but you didn’t feel like leaving Monaco for a place so far away, especially not when she would be all over her boyfriend the whole time. They were cute together, you loved them, but third wheeling wasn’t so inviting. 

You chatted with a few people, even let someone convince you to dance a little, but then you found a couch in the back of the club that you chose as your permanent spot for the rest of the night when you sat down with a cocktail in your hand. It was nice to sit back and watch the people around you celebrate, having the time of their lives from the looks of it. Despite the weird feeling you had since you arrived, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. At least they were happy. They were celebrating. 

You? You didn’t know what to look out for in the new year. Maybe you should get a job again. After you finished your studies, you worked for a consulting company for a year, but then you had enough of the excel files and the presentations, and decided to be nothing more than a carefree heiress in the future. Your grandmother, who came from a wealthy family with a long history, had always favored you over her children, including your mother. So, when she died, she left everything to you in her will. 

The peaceful people-watching activity was disrupted when you noticed someone plopping down next to you out of the corner of your eye. It annoyed you, really, but once you turned to look at who it was, your annoyance disappeared as if it hadn’t even been there. You didn’t really know Charles. Sure, he was on good terms with Lando, sometimes you attended the same parties, but the most you exchanged were probably a total of ten sentences in the span of years. But he had that calming aura around him, one that made you feel better, as if you were suddenly wrapped in a warm blanket. 

At first, you didn’t talk, there was no need for that. He just probably needed a place to sit down until he got a little rest before rejoining the party. Sipping your drink, you continued to watch the people, completely ignoring your neighbor. But then you began to have a strange feeling, as if someone was watching you, eyes burning a hole in you without knowing, and it didn’t take long to figure out it was him who was shamelessly ogling you. 

When you turned to him with a questioning look, he quickly shifted his gaze somewhere else, acting like he hadn’t just been caught in the act of staring at you. Shaking your head a little, you decided to ignore him for now. He was probably drunk and had no idea what was appropriate anymore. Although, he didn’t seem that out of it, in fact, he just looked tired with those dark circles under his eyes. 

And then you felt his thigh press against yours, shoulders touching after he moved closer to you. “I bet you don’t wanna be here either,” he said, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. Finally turning to acknowledge him, you give him a surprised look. “Lando was quite literally begging me to come tonight. I’m only here because I promised, even though I’d rather be somewhere else. Anywhere else,” he added. 

“If I could choose, I’d be sitting on my couch with a blanket around me, eating popcorn while holding a movie marathon,” you admitted with a smile. “But it’s impossible to say no to him.”

“Sad, but true.” His green eyes turned to the crowd in front of you, but you didn’t miss the way his fingers played with his bracelets. “I would give up my car for some popcorn. Or a pizza. Or some pasta. Anything, really, because I’m starving,” he told you as he looked back.

The last time you were around the other side of the club, there was a huge table with a lot of food, how could he not see that? But when you shared this little piece of information with him, he just laughed, and his bright smile reached his eyes too. You wondered what was so funny about this, but you soon got your answer.

“Yeah, that was true until about an hour ago. I was just about to finally eat something, but some guy grabbed the very last of the sliders I had my eyes on. The table is empty. There’s no food. We’re going to die.” He dramatically threw his hands in the air as he leaned back, glancing down at his watch. “It’s only eleven, I don’t know how long I’ll last. Do you think I will live until midnight?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his question. But you weren’t laughing at him, you were laughing with him. Now that he mentioned food, though, you realized that you were quite hungry too. “Did you really have to bring up food?” you asked him with a disapproving look. 

Charles’s lips curled into a grin. “Now you’re hungry too, aren’t you?” When you nodded, he bumped his shoulder against yours. “It’s your fault for talking about popcorn,” he pointed out. “Although… Do you think Lando would notice if we left? He seems so busy partying that I highly doubt he would notice we’re not here.”

As your eyes scanned the crowd to find the host, you let out a thoughtful hum. The last time you saw him, which conveniently happened in the restroom, he was already on his way to get real drunk, and he was having so much fun you highly doubted he would care about some of his guests escaping. So, without thinking more about this, you turned to the Monegasque next to you and told him the answer is probably no. 

“Great,” he said as he jumped up and extended his hand for you to grab it. When you just watched him with a questioning look, he leaned down to take your hand and pull you up. “Come on, I know a place where we can hopefully get food.” And with that, he took your hand and pulled you towards the exit, not really giving you the chance to object. 

The two of you walked down the street, hands stuffed into the pockets of your jackets to fight the chilly night air, and you talked about music, movies, even about how Christmas went. You barely noticed that he came to a halt in front of a little bistro in a narrow street, holding up a pointer finger to ask for a second while he opened the door and peeked inside. 

He spoke with someone in French, exchanging words you couldn’t quite make out, then he reached out for your hand with a smile on his face and pulled you inside. There was a small group of people sitting around a table, happily discussing something until they noticed you standing there. At first, there was silence. But then they erupted in cheers while someone stood up and pulled Charles into a hug.

A man in his late thirties ushered you to an empty chair by the table that he pulled out for you, then he poured both you and the Monegasque driver a glass of wine. You watched as your new companion got comfortable across from you, already deep in a conversation with an older man who explained something with wide motions of his hand. 

Whoever these people were, they clearly welcomed him like he was family. The older man he was talking to called him son at one point, and Charles didn't flinch, he just smiled lovingly as he listened to the story. He was way more at ease here than he had been back in the club. The dark circles under his eyes were still there, but those green eyes came to life in this new environment.

Someone placed freshly made sandwiches in front of you, and you didn't miss the small smile on his face when he glanced at you for a moment. A little explanation would have been nice, just so you would know whose company you were enjoying, but since he didn't bother to explain, you focused your attention on your food. And when you took a bite? God, it was heavenly. 

“Good, right?” When you glanced up, you noticed that a kind-looking, forty-something woman was now sitting on the chair next to you, her long brown hair flowing down her shoulders as her blue eyes watched you with a mischievous glint. “My father,” she began, motioning towards the man Charles was talking to, “opened this place because he wanted people to have actual conversations with each other while enjoying their food. Charles can have extremely long discussions with him about literally anything.”

Once you swallowed, you extended a hand to her to introduce yourself. After you got past that, you turned your finger around to show what you were about to say was related to everyone in this room. “So, is it a family event that he just crashed?” you wondered out loud. 

Marie let out a laugh as she shook her head. “Hardly. They're all friends through my father, though. We always gather here on New Year's Eve, but this is the first time Charles came. Although, based on the way he made his sandwich disappear so fast, I guess it was the food that brought him here,” she said with a wide smile. 

Guilt rushed through your body upon hearing this, because that's exactly what happened. But he seemed happy, maybe deep down he wanted to be here with his friends. They were so different from the ones you also hung out with, the F1 drivers and other celebrities. These were normal people, having normal conversations, acting genuinely and kindly. 

You got lost in a conversation, but soon it was interrupted when she glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:55 p.m. It was almost time. She excused herself and left to fill flutes with champagne, and before you knew it, you were all standing in a circle, counting down to midnight. Charles was standing next to you, smiling so much that his nose crinkled in the cutest way.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One. 

And just when you wanted to join the group as they said happy new year, you felt a hand on the back of your neck, then a few milliseconds later, before your brain could comprehend what was happening, Charles's lips crashed into yours. It was slow and soft, he definitely took his time with you as if you weren’t surrounded by people. And just as abruptly as it began, it came to an end eventually. 

“It's in the law to kiss someone at midnight,” he said with a smile as he licked his lips.

For a while you were staring at him dumbfounded, but you managed to shake off this feeling and nodded after a short break. That’s true, it was a well-known tradition. Flashing a smile at him, you turned away to clink your glasses with the others, placing friendly kisses on their cheeks in the process, but Marie decided to pull you into a hug, treating you as if you had known each other for a long time. 

It felt nice. Unlike at the party, here you actually felt like you belonged. Sure, you and Lando were really good friends, and yes, you knew many of his friends, but none of them was a close friend of yours. Yet, despite not really knowing Charles, the fact he was so relaxed and happy among his friends made you happy too. It was a contagious feeling, and maybe it was related to the warm welcome here that lifted your mood. These people were so different from the ones you were used to in your everyday life. It was charming, really. 

You all sat down when someone pulled out a board game that seemed old and unfamiliar to you. But they were kind enough to explain the rules to you, and Charles even promised to help you throughout the game as he took a seat next to you. I only began to understand it around the third time we played it, so don’t be sad if you still don’t understand any of it by the end, he told you with a laugh. You returned his beaming smile, and in the next two hours or so you laughed a lot, argued a lot, and there was even some shouting when someone accused another of cheating. 

By the time they packed up the game, you were so tired you couldn't fight back your yawns. You glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed it was past three in the morning, and you knew it was time to go home now, because even though fun’s fun, there's a limit to everything. The thought of your soft bed was inviting, like a siren calling for you from the distance, and the idea of spending the whole day in it was the cherry on top.

“Going home?” Marie asked you with her hand resting on your shoulder, her tired smile giving away that she was probably also debating calling it a day. When you nodded, she let out a defeated sigh. “I wish I could go too, but I promised my father I'd stick around and help him clean up a bit after everyone left.”

Without thinking much, you pulled her into a hug. “I'm sure you could convince him to clean up tomo–well, later today,” you finished with a laugh. 

She leaned back to look at you. “And leave the dirty plates and glasses here? No, thank you. I'll just sleep a little longer, I guess,” she replied as she let you go.

Suddenly an arm landed around your shoulder, and based on the bracelets around the man's right wrist, it was a safe bet that the man was Charles. And sure enough, the driver's face came into view when he leaned into your field of vision. You watched him with a curious look in your eyes, but he didn't seem too interested in explaining what he wanted.

“I've already told this to your father, but thank you for hosting us, even though we arrived last minute without a warning,” he finished with a boyish smile before his green eyes turned to you. “But it's late, we'll head home now.” 

Marie kissed his cheek, then she reached out to squeeze your hand as a goodbye. “It was nice to have you both here. You know you can jump in anytime. And you,” she went on, turning to you, “would better not disappear on me. Let's have lunch together someday.”

“Of course. I'll give you a call tomorrow when we're both fully awake,” you promised with a smile.

The two of you said goodbye to everyone, then stepped out on the street, standing next to each other in silence. It felt like you had suddenly run out of topics to discuss, although after some thinking, you managed to find something you could bring up.

“You could've stayed a little longer,” you told him as your eyes found his face again. 

Charles laughed as he shook his head. “It's late, I could use some proper sleep too,” he admitted. As his eyes were focused on you, he bit on his lower lip and clearly thought about something. “Can I walk you home?” 

“That’s a nice offer, but I already called a taxi. Thanks for bringing me here, though. I had fun,” you said with a wide smile. It was true, you couldn't remember the last time you had been to such a nice New Year's Eve party. Your phone pinged to tell you the taxi was arriving, and when you noticed the car pulling up, you stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Sleep tight,” he told you quietly, but you could feel there was something else he wanted to say. 

In the end, he remained silent, and you got in the car that took you home. As you sat there with your eyes taking in how magnificent this city looked tonight, you couldn't help but think about how the party turned out. It was nice to get to know him a little better, seeing a side of him that maybe wasn't as visible from the outside as one would expect. If you had known how fun he could be, you probably would have become friendly with him sooner.

[l1tw1ck]

Because of a Party

bottom!ftm!tasm!Peter Parker x top!masc reader

🕷️ Word Count: 1,843 🕷️

↳ [REQUEST] | [No AFAB Language Version]

CW: Dub-Con (Dry Humping), Drunkenness, Blowjob, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Biting, Marking

Peter and Gwen have been friends for a few years and most people think Peter’s in love with her. But in reality, he's in love with you. You don't talk to him much, you have your own group of friends and he's a year older so you never even considered becoming his friend. Peter's been content with just watching you from afar since he’s convinced he has no chance with you. He figured nothing would happen and you’d just be an old crush in a few years.

All that changed when Gwen heard you were going to a party. She asked if Peter could come with you because he spends all his time studying and working. You figured you should get along better with who you think is going to be your sister’s future boyfriend so you agreed.

Now you're at your friend’s house and Peter drank way too much in an attempt to ease up and enjoy the party. You didn't know until it was too late and at this point you're too drunk to bring him home so you ask your friend for help. He gives you the key to one of the guest bedrooms so he can sober up.

You drop Peter onto the bed and sit down next to him. He shimmies out of his uncomfortable jeans, leaving him in just his underwear. Peter mumbles your name and pulls you onto your back to make you lie down with him. You turn your body to look at him, your faces too close together for both of your comforts. You look into his eyes and wait for him to speak but instead of talking, he goes in for a kiss. You’re not sure why, but you actually reciprocate the kiss. Peter has no idea what he's doing but you can't tell, and even if you could you're too drunk to care. He pulls your pants down just enough to grope your bulge and get you hard. He moves his hand away and wraps his leg around yours, adjusting himself so that his pussy is right against your boner. He starts to desperately rub his cunt against you, humping you at an unnaturally fast pace.

You pull away from the kiss. “Peter..”

“[Name]–” He gasps. “Fuck- mmh~” He throws his head back. He moves like he's never touched himself before, it's clear that he's enjoying himself. He whimpers as he feels his orgasm quickly approaching. “yes! yes!”

You let him bring himself to his completion, watching as he comes from humping you. He looks so irresistible like this. You gulp, trying to hold back all the urges you have right now.

Peter calms down and lies on his back. Before you can even speak he passes out, leaving you to take care of your boner by yourself. You sigh. At least this won't be the last time you see him.

Your family’s flying to England to visit Gwen’s new choice of college. She decided New York wasn't giving her what she needed so she applied and got a full scholarship. She’s moving in the summer but your parents wanted to help her find a new place. Your brothers wanted to come along too. You stayed back because you wanted to talk to Peter about the party. You’ve seen him a few times but you never had the chance to get him alone but now's the perfect time. It's especially perfect if that conversation leads to something more.

You invited him over under the guise of needing help with science homework, since you assume that he's forgotten all about the party.

Your original plan was to have a civil conversation but now that he's right in front of you, you don't know what to say. You bring him to your room, planning to wait for a better moment to talk about it.

“Do you remember anything that happened during the party? My memory kind of stopped at some point and I woke up with a splitting headache.”

You turn around. “You don't remember?” You ask. He shakes his head. “Anything?” You step closer to him. He shakes his head again. “You were all over me at the party.”

His eyes widen. What did he do?

You lean into his ear. “You were rubbing yourself on my cock and acting like a desperate whore. You didn't even let me come.” You chuckle at the last part.

His cheeks are even redder than before. The visual you just gave him is setting him on fire. Was he clothed? Or did he rub his bare cunt on you? The thought is driving him insane.

“You’ll make it up to me though, right?”

Peter nods. He can't even begin to describe how he feels, he might just explode.

“Get on your knees.” You order. He quickly sinks down to the floor and pulls your pants down. “That's a good boy.” You praise him. He's surprised at how much his body reacted to hearing that, he's already soaking wet. He slowly tugs on the waistband of your underwear, almost scared to see what's underneath. He looks up at you then back at your bulge before impulsively shoving your boxers down.

“shit..” He gasps. You're definitely well endowed. He holds it in his hand and gently licks the tip. He wraps his lips around your girth and slides his mouth down almost to the hilt. He moves backwards and forwards, sucking your cock feverishly. He doesn't have any experience but he's determined to make you feel good. Even though he's not experienced, it feels amazing. Just seeing him and his eagerness is enough for you. He looks adorable doing it.

“That’s right, you’re doing so well, baby.” You murmur, running your hands through his hair. Peter blushes and looks up at you, shivering when he sees your expression. He closes his eyes and speeds up his movements. He can't believe that he's in this situation. He’s dreamt and fantasized about being with you for years and now it's finally a reality. He thanks his drunken self for getting you interested in him. “Peter-” You breathe out.

He pulls away from you and jerks you off. “Mmh?” He looks up at you.

“‘M gonna come-” You warn. His eyes widen and he quickly goes back to sucking you off. He wants to swallow it. Your peak comes even faster when you realize his intentions. Peter swallows your cum happily, enjoying your taste. He pulls away and looks at you with a small smile. God he’s so cute.

You help him stand up and bring him to his bed. “Is this your first time?” You ask, taking your shirt off. Peter nods, taking his clothes off too. “I’ll be gentle.” You promise.

“You don't have to be.” He smiles. “Be as rough as you want. I can take it.” The room starts to get hotter.

“Oh yeah?” You smirk, running two fingers down his cunt before slowly pushing them inside of him. “I think you overestimate yourself.”

“I disagree.” He grabs your wrist and pushes your fingers in all the way, a soft moan leaving his lips. “I think it's the other way around.”

“Really now?” You move closer to his face. “Why don't we find out?” You angle your fingers a certain way, hitting his g spot exactly and causing him to moan. Before Peter can get another word out, you hit it again. And again, and again. You give him a break and move your face in between his legs. Your tongue against his clit runs a shiver up his spine. His eyes widen when your tongue enters him. He knew it’d feel good but not this good!

“Fuck!” He cries out. “Oh- [Name]~!” He throws his head back and lifts his hips. “Li- like that! Oh my God–”

Out of embarrassment, Peter grabs a pillow and brings it to his face. You’d like to hear him but you don't want to force anything out of him. He practically screams into the pillow. He feels like he's floating. He needs more. More. More. More! More! Yes! Peter feels his entire body react to the feeling of your tongue against his pleasure spot. Slick suddenly gushes out of him like he had a secret water gun in between his legs. He’s never had an orgasm this powerful before. He wants to feel it again.

You pull away from him and wipe your face. “You really liked that, huh?”

Peter moves the pillow away and nods. “I loved it.”

You hold your aching cock, pre cum dribbling out of it steadily. He can see how horny and desperate you are, he has a good estimate of how rough you're gonna be and he's so fucking ready.

“You don't have any plans for tomorrow, do you?” You ask, sliding a condom on.

He shakes his head quickly.

“Good. Because I don't think you’ll be able to go anywhere once I’m done with you.” You ease yourself inside him. You grab his legs and fold him in half. “Ready?”

“Fuck yes– AH~!” He moans loudly as you ram into him like there's no tomorrow. He doesn't even consider the fact that your neighbors can most definitely hear him and you're enjoying this too much to silence him. He looks down at his cunt, loving the way your cock slides in and out of it, then up at you.

“You feel so good, Peter.” You praise him in between breaths, leaning in to kiss his neck and make hickeys. He moves to expose more of his neck to you, encouraging you to continue. You stop sucking his neck and Peter can hear your heavy breathing even more clearly. He doesn't know why but he loves it.

“Bi- bite me~” He places his hand on your head and urges you to do it. It doesn't take you any convincing, you sink your teeth into his neck, almost deep enough to draw blood but not quite. He lets out a loud, breathy moan and comes. You slow down your thrusts, taking in the feeling of his pussy convulsing around you. “Hah– keep- keep going..”

You pull out, making him whine, and flip him onto his stomach. You raise his ass and slide back into him. You grip his waist and roughly fuck into him. Peter rolls his eyes back, his moans muffled by the pillow. He feels like he’s on cloud nine. He can barely think properly. You lean forward and graze your teeth against his neck. Peter’s breath hitches in response. You bite him again, his pussy squeezing you tight. You create a plethora of hickeys and bite marks all over his back, leaving the two of you with something to admire in the morning. “Gonna come..” You moan, slowing down. You thrust into him a few more times before stopping and filling up the condom with your spend.

You pull out and take off the condom, throwing it in the trash. Peter looks at you, his face flushed. “Felt so good..” He smiles.

[meadowscarlet]

inflicted desire ━━━ kaz brekker.

pairings: kaz brekker x fem!reader.

summary: you were simply a crow and nina's closest friend, but kaz doesn't understand why he feels the need to be near you or protect you when you can protect yourself; he is closed off and unreadable, and he couldn't articulate his feelings properly, until you were hurt on the job.

warnings: the normal six of crows shenanigans.

author’s note: a reposted fic. do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.

Kaz Brekker did not make mistakes. He was a thief, not a fool, the Dregs' leader, and Ketterdam's most notorious man. He had a sharp intellect and was astute; no one ventured to cross him out of fear, or they were rational enough not to.

His plans were meticulous, and if something went wrong (which was unlikely), he had hundreds of backup plans ready to go. And everything went well, but there was a glimmer of realization that Kaz had made the biggest mistake of his life. It was bothering him, and he had a nagging feeling of uneasiness.

If he had merely noted when he met you—charming and intriguing—when he visited the House of the White Rose to inform Nina about a job; he should have simply ignored you when you passed him in the hall without a second glance, but Kaz had been effectively intrigued.

Nina told him that you were her closest friend and the one person in the White Rose who kept her sane. Nina was cautious, with a guarded gleam in her eyes and a reluctance that could get you killed in Ketterdam, when Kaz inquired whether you had any skills.

Nina had given Kaz a sharp gaze and said, “Recruiting her in the Dregs is dangerous.”

“Nina dear,” Kaz drawled. “It's dangerous everywhere in Ketterdam. And I think your friend would appreciate getting out of here every now and then.”

Nina told Kaz about your bewitching qualities with a little more trepidation. You were charismatic, a pretty face and a cunning smile that could tempt wealthy merchants to give you kruge and a wise convincer. Nina also mentioned that you had good combat skills. Kaz Brekker had smirked at the time, his thoughts racing. He was well aware that he needed you on his team.

That was his very first mistake. You were good at your work—you did a brilliant job and Kaz knew you were a terrific addition to the Dregs—but as the days passed, he began to have an underlying feeling inside him that he quickly dismissed whenever you were there. Kaz often wondered if he should have heeded Nina's advice about not recruiting you in the Dregs, but he'd been blinded by his curiosity, and he bitterly regretted it.

He recalled one mission in which they were meant to spy on a handful of Pekka Rollins' men. Kaz remembered how meticulously he had prepared for this; he had gone over blueprints over and again until his eyes were weary, but he would not rest—never. Kaz was scrupulous with his plotting especially since it involved Pekka Rollins.

When there's a lovely girl around and they're inebriated, men are simple to seduce. So, of course, your main task was to play the inquisitive girl, allowing men to reveal their drunken secrets while you sat, looking pretty. Despite the fact that you were skilled in this vicinity, Kaz didn't like the plan, but he needed Inej on the roofs and Nina by the door, so you were left as an option.

As he saw you woo one of Rollins guys, he felt a prickling sensation inside him. You were dressed in a velvety white dress that accentuated your contours; you stood out in the darkness of Ketterdam, and you shone brightly. Kaz may not believe in Saints, but he was convinced you were one by the radiance of your smile and dress.

He despised seeing you sitting on a drunk Dime Lion man's lap, and Kaz noticed you looked uneasy, so he fought the impulse to smash the man's head with his cane until his skull cracked satisfyingly. He reminded himself that this was a job, and he needed to do his part. Despite your unsettled expression, he could see your ears perk up, and that's when Kaz recognized the man had begun to speak.

Kaz watched you giggling and touching the man's forearm while drinking your drink; you were playing your part wonderfully as usual. And it all happened very quickly; when the drunken man leaned close to you, another man approached him to stop him, and Kaz realized the man knew who you were.

The man had said something to the inebriated man, and the latter had suddenly sobered up, and Kaz realized chaos had occurred. Because of the drink you drank, you appeared tipsy, but Kaz could see how your eyes flared in terror and your gaze immediately darted to him.

Kaz had set out on foot to get you, but Nina had beaten him to it. Nina had grasped your wrist and pulled you away in alarm before the man could grab you. Shots were being fired, and Kaz could see Jesper rousing his revolters to fire back at the men who were shooting at you and now at Jesper.

Kaz was so concentrated on the men and the bullets that he missed you limping in Nina's arms as he pulled his own gun. Nina wore a worried expression on her face and was essentially bearing half your weight. And Kaz could see it: there was blood on your abdomen that was obvious and evident through the white of your dress. As Kaz focused on you, gunshots faded into the background, and he was startled out of his reverie when Jesper told them to leave.

He didn't normally listen to Jesper because he was the one who gave the directions and commands, but now his feet followed Jesper's, his leg jerking in pain as he hobbled, yet his step was swift. He remembered the blood on your adobem, the way Nina's eyes widened, and he was filled with dread. It was terrifying. Since Jordie, he hasn't felt like this in years.

Kaz knew Inej was close behind him, quiet and concealed like the Wraith she is, as his Crows hurried to the Slat. As you limped beside Nina, Kaz could see you being held by her, and he turned to Jesper, a sensation inside him that he didn't want to convey.

“Run after Nina," Kaz rasped coldly. “Help her with Y/N.”

Jesper didn't need to say anything else as he ran to Nina, and when he caught up with both girls, he grabbed your waist and helped half of your weight as Nina and Jesper carried you to the Slat. Kaz despised hearing a hint of fragility in his voice, but Jesper didn't seem to mind.

It didn't matter to Kaz if Nina could hear his rapid heartbeat. Kaz saw that the others were watching him as his eyes swept you laying on your bed with Nina mending your wound. Even though your face was pale and your breathing was unsteady, you were alive, Kaz was not soothed. Despite her concerns, Nina had been firm, requesting medical equipment from Matthias, who had followed orders.

Kaz isn't concerned about the Rollins information right now; all he wants is for you to be alright. He remembered your eyes widening in panic and searching for his first. He swallowed a lump in his throat and shook his head, focusing on you instead. And there was so much blood, Kaz gripped his cane tightly in his fist.

“Heal her,” he murmured.

Nina gave him a cold stare. “I'm trying, Kaz, but there's just too much blood.”

“I don't care,” Kaz said icily, his gaze matching hers. “Zenik, heal her.”

Inej had left, but not before praying to her Saints for you to be well. Jesper walked away as well, noticing the gloom in Kaz's voice and Nina's gaze. Matthias was retrieving more medical supplies, creating a tense atmosphere with only a feverish Kaz, an anxious but indignant Nina, and an alive yet barely Y/ N.

“You should leave, l'll get to you once l'm done,” Nina remarked as she resumed working in your wounded abdomen.

Kaz stood firm in his position. “I'm not going anywhere.”

With a shake of her head, Nina replied, “Your heartbeat is distracting me.” Kaz noticed her hand quivering. “I can sense your nerves, Brekker, and it doesn't help that l'm worried about her as well.”

He was terrified; he had shown vulnerability, and Nina had noticed. She knew he cared about you, and he had never experienced anything like it with anybody else. When Inej was stabbed, Jesper was shot, or Matthias, Wylan, and Nina were hurt, Kaz's heart didn't rush as rapidly. It was always you who made his heart race with nerves and a need to protect you if you were harmed.

When Kaz glanced at your hand, palm up, he felt compelled to grasp it. Not Jesper, who had brought you to the Slat, or even Nina, who stroked your hair away from your face every now and then, but he should be the one holding you and aiding you. But Kaz knew that idea alone was impossible; he couldn't think about it without shivering with distaste, so he stayed, a safe distance away, with a tremendous desire to hold you.

Nina fixed her gaze on him. “I assume she'll be a little hazy when she wakes up, so don't ask her any questions about the information.”

“I don't give a damn about the information,” Kaz remarked indifferently.

Kaz despised the mischievous glimmer in her eyes as she shot him a shocked glance. “Kaz Brekker not caring about the information that's about Pekka Rollins? Somebody pinch me.”

He gave her a skeptical look as he rolled his eyes. “Keep her alive by doing your work, Nina dear.”

Nina shrugged her shoulders, but her eyes were gloomy. “She's not dead, Kaz,” she said with a shake of her head. “Since the blood loss, she'll be unconscious, but she'll be fine—she usually is.”

Kaz nodded in agreement. What Nina said was right; it was not uncommon for someone in the Crows to be hurt—it happens all the time, especially during heists and jobs—but the jobs were mostly successful, and Kaz had been blunt in assigning you the safest task (charming people) because a selfish part of him wanted you to be in the middle of the job so he could keep an eye on you.

But, despite his composed demeanor, he seemed to crumble everywhere around you. Perhaps you had charmed him, as you had charmed so many others, by bewitching him with your entire being, causing his black heart to seek you out. When you were around, there was always an inflicted desire within Kaz, which he had always disregarded until now.

Kaz wanted to kill the man who had touched you, as well as track down the person who had shot you. He remembered your bright eyes dampening in fear and a brief tremor of despair as you realized you'd been caught, then blood splattering across your white dress and Nina's worried expression as she carried your limping weight.

Nina snarled, “You're doing it again.”

With his dark eyes, Kaz looked at her. “What?”

“I know you love her and all, but I need to focus, and your heartbeat is incredibly distracting right now,” Nina rambled.

Kaz stilled as he heard the word he didn't want to associate himself with. “In Ketterdam, love is neglected; it is reserved for the weak.”

Nina surprised him by laughing. “What are you doing right now? Whenever Y/N is hurt, you appear weak—you're in your vulnerable form.”

Kaz wanted to kill Nina by saying things he knew were true, but he was ignorant and stubborn to accept it. Nina gave him a knowing look as she cleaned, healed, and wrapped a cloth around your wound before kissing you on the forehead and leaving Kaz alone with you.

Kaz strolled over to where you were laying after a few moments of contemplation. He examined your flawless face, which, despite seeming pale and near death, was nonetheless lovely. Kaz paused for a while before raising his gloved palm to your cheek and tucking the errant strand of hair away.

He sat down near your bed, putting his disgust aside. Despite the strong temptation, he did not grasp your inviting hand. Kaz had stayed by your bedside the entire night, never leaving your side. Nina had stopped by every now and then to change your bandage, but she had said nothing about Kaz's overstaying or even asked him to leave.

When Nina was treating your wound, she had said, “You should rest, Kaz.”

Kaz gave her a sidelong glance. “Don't tell me what to do.”

Nina may have been right, but she was also wrong. Kaz did not believe he was capable of love, yet he had a great desire to be with you. To be in your company, to receive your gorgeous smile, and to simply be in your presence. And this time he wasn't going to ignore it.

[hellfirenacht]

This Machine...

Summary: Your birthday is coming up, and Eddie makes you a present. 

Tags: sfw, friends to lovers, slightly possessive Eddie and Reader if you squint, Eddie Munson x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k words

Master List

There were certain perks to being the school’s resident dealer. For one, Eddie had made very good friends with the old janitor that kept to himself, flying under everyone’s radar, including Higgins’. The nice perk that came with being friends with ol’ Mr. Greg was the fact that he had the keys to every single room in the school, which meant that Eddie’s lock-picking days were lowered considerably. 

These were good perks to have, especially since your birthday was coming up. Eddie had convinced the art teached at the beginning of every year to allow himself and his club to use the art room to make their Hellfire shirts. The art department had managed to get funding four years ago for a screen printing kit, convincing the board that having the ability to make shirts would create unity within the school. 

Frankly, Eddie thought that was a load of bullshit. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to use it to his advantage when he could. So every September, Eddie would gather his little sheepies for an afternoon of arts and crafts, creating the shirts and ruining the ones they were wearing in the mess. Eddie would always try and make a few extra, just in case there were stragglers that needed saving from the conformity of Hawkins High school. Not once did he consider the irony of having his sheep in uniform.

In most cases, the art teacher was willing to work with him and let him in without much fuss. Of course, that was when Eddie was still a student. He had now been a proud high school graduate for seven months and the shock of not being in school had him spiraling for the first month before he found himself working at the Hideout again. Work, rehearsal, work, rehearsal, a thirty minute set at the Hideout if he was lucky, work, rehearsal. 

God, he missed Hellfire. That was the only part of school that he missed; a consistent Dungeons and Dragons schedule. 

Still, it wasn’t all bad and monotonous. Turns out that if you aren’t stuck at school 8 hours a day, 5 days a week you can go other places when children are at school. And when you go to places where kids aren’t, you tend to meet adults. 

Enter you. 

You had been working at the record store on morning shift, and had been for a few months now. Although you had more often than not worked weekends, somehow you and Eddie had eluded each other in the two years of you sorting through the various artists and ringing up customers. 

It had been a Thursday when Eddie met you, a fact he only remembered because the previous night had been the day that Bev allowed him to go on two nights in a row at the Hideout, which had been unheard of for Corroded Coffin. 

“Ain’t no one barely here anyways, Eddie.” she’d said, having long since stopped calling him Junior. 

He had been flying high, and an old drunk had even left him a tip on the bar, enough to drop by the record store and pick up an album he’d been eyeing for a while. You had been standing at the boxes, resetting them and reorganizing them for the hundredth time that week. It had been so slow that day that it was all you could do to keep yourself busy. 

W.A.S.P had been playing at a near whisper quiet volume, and when Eddie asked you about it you had just smiled, shrugged, and said that the owner only allowed you to play them on Thursdays when it was dead, or Sunday morning when anyone who’d get offended by the lyrics would be at church. 

The two of you had been friends ever since. 

A half hour of idle chat about music had turned into five months of late night talks on the phone, hanging out in Eddie’s van, swapping music back and forth, visiting each other during your shifts, and a tentative bi-monthly D&D session with you, and Corroded Coffin. 

Eddie would never know how badly he messed up your sleep schedule, going on late at night with Corroded Coffin when you had a morning shift, but it was always worth it to give him a sober audience member. 

The best nights though, were the times where you’d come over and just... hang out with him. You’d come over to Wayne’s trailer after your shift, or he’d pick you up from your place, and the two of you would just sit and talk. 

You never bat an eye at how messy his room was, and he made sure there was no food left out and would at least make an effort to clean out all of the beer cans in his room. Mostly you’d just sit on his bed and watch him play guitar, or spend hours talking about everything and nothing. 

As much as you enjoyed hearing him practice the same riff on his electric guitar over and over again, you had admitted to him that you always had a soft spot for the acoustic guitar that collected a little more dust in the corner that he’d pull out on rare occasions. 

THIS MACHINE SLAYS DRAGONS

You’d voiced your fondness for the instrument several times, enjoying the combination of Woody Gunthrie’s iconic guitar adjusted for your friends’ eccentric taste. 

Five months of friendship. Five months of hanging out with no pressure, no needing to look after each other, five months of feeling like a fucking human in this damn town. 

And one month of having the most embarrassing and awkward crush on you. 

Eddie had dated before, and he’d been interested in girls and some girls had even shown some interest in him until they realized that Eddie wasn’t someone to be fixed or saved. Eddie had even had sex before, but not to the extreme lengths that he’d found had been circulating in high school. 

Seriously, who had the time to come up with half the shit that this town thought he’d allegedly done? 

You found great joy in hearing about his spin in the rumor mill. Whenever one of you heard a rumor about the Freak, you’d compare notes and laugh about how stupid it was. Of course, Eddie put little effort into actually stopping the rumors, and now that he was no longer in high school it didn’t seem to matter as much anymore. He’d still get dirty looks from people in town but he found that more often than not people would just leave him alone now. Jocks, nerds, freaks, cheerleaders; outside the halls of Hawkins High those words didn’t hold half the weight they used to. 

“So they’re saying that now you spiked the punch at homecoming?” you asked, laughing. “I must have missed that dance.”

“Yeah, so did I. I only went to homecoming once in school and that was Sophomore year.” Eddie replied, his fingers tabbing out a melody that he had been working on for a new song. “And there was no way I was able to get my hands on any alcohol that night.”

“Why would you waste perfectly good alcohol on a high school dance, anyway?” you laughed.

Eddie could listen to you laugh for hours. 

And it was because of this, that Eddie was now back at Hawkins High, while Ol’ Greg unlocked the art room on this fine weekend. It didn’t take much convincing, Ol’ Greg didn’t give a shit about Eddie’s reputation and never had, and for that Eddie had slipped the janitor an extra joint for his trouble as payment for letting him in. 

The room looked about the same as it had the last few weeks of school, aside from some new art projects. Other than that, everything was in about the same place. Eddie wasted a little time wandering around the room, looking at the different projects and taking in the scent of old clay and dried paint. Aside from the old drama room, the art room was the only other place in the school where he felt okay in this hellhole. 

It didn’t take much to get your shirt size. You always had a bad habit of leaving your sweaters in his van, so going to grab a blank hoodie in your size was the easy part. The design he was using was easy as well, and after so many years of making Hellfire Club shirts he could probably make this in his sleep. 

But he wouldn’t, because he wanted this to be perfect. So for the next few hours he carefully pulled out the equipment, found the right shade of red he wanted to use and painstakingly created the stencil, adding his own personal flair to it. The finished product was probably nicer than any Hellfire Club shirt he’d ever made. 

By the end of it, your new hoodie was done and he was sure that you’d love it so much that you’d never forget it in his van. 

With the finished product in hand he was able to lock up, thank Ol’ Greg, and make his way home. 

Now all Eddie had to do was give it to you for your birthday. The two of you had made plans to hang out that morning together at Benny’s for some birthday waffles or pancakes or french toast or whatever you wanted. He’d treat you, he’d been saving for this. 

Then he’d give you the gift, and you’d love it and then he’d suck it up and ask you out. He could do this. Jeff swore to Eddie up and down that you clearly had feelings for him. Eddie wasn’t stupid, he’d noticed your flirting and had flirted back so many times. This dance between the two of you had been going on for weeks now, but it didn’t make it any less terrifying. With any luck, the note he had tucked into the pocket would also help him out. 

You were already at your usual booth when he arrived that Sunday morning. It was supposed to be a very quiet morning, Benny’s was never busy first thing on Sunday. So when Eddie walked into the diner to meet you, his stomach dropped as he saw the rest of his band already sitting with you. 

A chorus of his friends called him over, and Eddie, dejected, slid in the booth on the opposite side of you. You were on the end of one booth, seated next to Jeff and Zack, while Eddie took the spot next to Gareth. 

Eddie wanted to be pissed at the guys for ruining his plan, but then he saw the look on your face. You were thrilled to be around everyone and were excitedly talking to Jeff about the new song that he was learning. It was your birthday, your day, and if you were having fun, that was the important part. He did make sure to put your food on his tab though, he wasn’t going to let anyone else have that satisfaction. 

As the morning went on, Eddie had completely forgotten about the hoodie currently sitting in the small bag by his leg. He was only reminded of it when Gareth got up to go pee and Eddie was forced out of the booth, as his foot kicked the bag and you noticed it. 

Your eyes immediately lit up when you noticed the red gift bag and your smile widened. 

“Eddie, is that for me?” you asked, batting your eyelashes. “Did you get me a present?”

He didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone, that hadn’t been part of the plan. But he sucked it up and pulled the hoodie out and tossed it to you. Eddie could worry about asking you out later when the rest of his friends weren’t around. He’d never want to put that pressure on you anyway. 

“Yessss!” you grabbed it eagerly in your hands and unfolded the hoodie, noticing the design. 

This Machine Slays Dragons was splashed across the front, and on the front pocket was a small colony of bats, just like the ones on Eddie’s arm. He watched as your eyes widened, in surprise and delight, and felt a wave of relief wash over him as you eagerly put it on. 

“Holy shit, Eddie, I love it!” you said, and got out of the booth to throw your arms around him. Your lips pressed against his cheek, and for a moment Eddie felt like he was on cloud nine as he hugged you back, giving you a slight squeeze before you pulled away. 

“You always said you liked my guitar.” He said, shooting a look to his bandmates who were making kissy faces behind your back. The glare only egged them on. 

“It’s got your bats on it.” you said, looking down at the design, smoothing it out. “This is so fuckin’ cool!”

As you ran your hands down the design, you heard a faint crinkle in the pocket. When you reached inside, alarm bells went off in Eddie’s head and he quickly muttered something about needing a cigarette before turning on his heel and walking straight outside to his van. 

He’d completely forgotten the note that he had slipped into the pocket. You absolutely were not supposed to open that in front of everyone. Eddie leaned against the back of his van, lightly smacking his head against the door, the barely touched cigarette in his hand. 

“Eddie...?” Your voice made him go stiff, his head still against the fan. He took one long drag of the cigarette and exhaled the smoke before standing up straight to look at you. You were holding the note in your hand with a sheepish grin on your face. 

“Hey.” He said, not sure how to proceed. He couldn’t read your smile. Was it a sad smile? Were you going to awkwardly tell him that you didn’t feel the same but you could be friends? He could live with that, but it would really sting. 

“So....” you looked at the note and read the two words printed there in his handwriting. “‘Date me’, huh? I’ve heard you come up with the wildest descriptions for things when we play D&D, but the most you could jot down was... ‘Date me’?”

It was. Eddie had racked his brain for hours on what to say to you, but he couldn’t find the words he wanted to. Everything felt either too cheesy, or too stiff, or not him, or too casual. He was really banking on the hoodie to be more of a selling point than the note. 

“I thought it’d be cuter if it had just been the two of us this morning.” Eddie admitted. “Look, I get it if you’re here to respectfully decline. We can just be friends, I swear I won’t make it weird-”

“I’ll date you.” The words were firm and steadfast. There wasn’t a single waiver in your voice as you said those three words. You took a step closer to him and shoved the note back in the hoodie pocket. “Eddie I... I want to date you. I’ve wanted to date you for about 10 minutes after we met.” 

Eddie’s head lowered slightly and his eyes widened as he stared at you. “Are you serious?”

“Well, yeah.” you said. “A cute guy walks into a record store, knows about good music, invites me to play D&D and then becomes one of my best friends? Yes, Eddie, I want to date you.” 

Eddie snuffed out the barely touched cigarette and leaned in towards you. God, he was fucking clueless sometimes.

“You know... that hoodie looks good on you.” He said, trying to sound smooth. “It’ll look better in the back of my van.” 

You stared blankly at him for a second and then burst out laughing, your head thrown back. “No, no, nevermind.” you cackled. “I changed my mind. I’m done. We’re done.” 

Had Eddie not known you as well as he did, he might have taken that as a real rejection. But he knew that laugh, he’d heard it a hundred times over the past few months. 

He reached out and grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him, you were still smiling wide when you looked up at him. “Seriously, Eddie? I agree to date you and you pull out that line?”

“Don’t get mad at me, Sweetheart.” He said. “You’re the one constantly leaving your clothes in my van. I don’t know why you’re laughing at my perfectly innocent statement.”

“Oh fuck off, Eddie.” You laughed. “You know exactly what you said and how you meant it. And maybe I wouldn’t have had to leave my clothes in your van all the time if you had asked me out earlier.” 

“And would you care to share that logic with me?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. Had you really been leaving things in his van on purpose?

“I had to mark my territory.” you said with a smile. “Can’t let anyone in your van think that you’re seeing someone else.”

It was Eddie’s turn to laugh and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Ah yes, the most popular freak in all of Hawkins definitely has a line out the door of people wanting to date him.” he said, his hands finding your hips. 

“You’re laughing. I’ve seen you flirting with Ms. Robin’s at The Hideout and you're laughing at me?” you tried to pout, but you were holding back your own giggles. 

“Ms. Robins is a 75 year old woman who can drink everyone under the table.” Eddie pointed out. 

“See? How am I supposed to compete with that! I had to sacrifice my jackets to make sure no one would be asking you out.” you protested. “What else could I-”

Eddie had originally planned on asking if it was okay for him to kiss you first, but he knew that if he didn’t do something now you’d keep cracking jokes and this conversation wouldn’t go anywhere. You tasted faintly like your birthday breakfast, but Eddie quickly decided that it wasn’t a bad thing. He felt the faint push of your lips back against his, and he mentally kicked himself for not doing this the first time you two hung out.

“Happy birthday.” Eddie said, as he finally pulled back. 

“Guess I got my wish, and I didn’t even have to blow out any candles.” you replied, just a little bashful at the admission.

“You aren’t allowed to leave this hoodie in my van.” Eddie said. “You can leave any other jacket or sweater in there but not this one.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” you said, “But why this one specifically?” 

Eddie touched the pocket that had the bats that matched his tattoo. “Because how else will other people know that you’re seeing someone?” 

“Oh, you little shit!” you laughed. “Really? You think I’m weird for what I did when you basically put your logo on a hoodie that you know I’m going to wear every day?”

“Guess that makes us both freaks now.” He replied, with a satisfied grin. 

“There are worse things to be in a small town.” you decided, taking his hand. “So I guess this means you’re my boyfriend now. No take backs.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Sweetheart.” Eddie crossed his heart.

You leaned in and gave him another quick kiss. “Come on. The sooner we go back in there, the sooner you all can sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me, and the sooner that’s done, then the sooner we can leave. And if you play your cards right, Eddie, you might get lucky and see this hoodie on the floor of your van anyway.” 

“So, the line worked?” He smirked. 

“Come on, Zack is hiding a box of cupcakes.” you laced your fingers with his. “Dessert first and then second dessert.”

“And then elevensies dessert?” Eddie teased. 

“It’s my birthday and I will change my mind, I swear.” you cackled, walking back into the diner with him. 

And because he knew your laugh so well, he had a very good feeling about how he’d help celebrate your birthday when the two of you would finally be alone. 

Thank you @hellfiredarling for the hoodie! They made it for me for my birthday last year 💜

Divider by @strangergraphics

[daisyvisions]

[11:38PM] - Close to You (k.m)

Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), boyfriend Kevin, thigh fucking, accidental p in v and eventually unprotected sex (rough sex), hair pulling, pet names (baby, sweetheart). Word count: 0.7K

A/N: Exercising the writing muscles with this one! Short but a part 2 to this fic and for the anons who requested for a part 2 many times a while back. Sorry for the wait, hope you still enjoy this! My very late birthday gift to Kevin! Tagging @deoboyznet @winterchimez @snowflakewhispers @snowflakewhispers

Thinking about boyfriend!Kevin, who’s been nothing but a sweetheart to you from the beginning of your relationship and the most selfless man you had ever met. You were so blessed to have him in your life.

Despite all his loving gestures and praises, there would still be that little voice in your head convincing you he was just being nice and that soon enough this honeymoon-like stage would eventually wear off.

But Kevin would prove time and time again how strong his love for you was, especially ever since that night you became intimate with him.

You could never get enough of each other whenever you were left alone. And even when things started to get incredibly hot, Kevin still kept his word and never pushed you to do anything you didn’t want to do (even when you could clearly see how worked up he’d get).

God bless his beautiful soul.

Eventually, the horny bug had gotten to you, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted him closer than ever before. You were ready to give yourself to him, body and soul.

“You’re doing so well for me baby, that’s it.” Kevin hisses in your ear as he continues to fuck himself between your thighs, the tip of his manhood nudging at your sensitive bud deliciously.

You could feel both his hesitation and hunger whenever the tip would slightly prod at your entrance, begging to go inside just for a moment.

Suddenly, as Kevin continued to thrust himself harshly between your thighs, he pulled back a little too much. When he thrusted forward once more, the tip of his member got caught at your entrance, accidentally pushing his entire length inside you in one swift motion.

You moaned so loud, not because of the pain but because of how well he stretched you out. The way your walls enveloped him easily, like he was meant to be there. And it felt so good.

While you were nearly fucked out by this, Kevin froze completely still. While yes it felt so amazing to finally be inside you, he was internally freaking out, doing something he knows he’s not allowed to do yet without your full consent.

“Oh shit baby- I’m so sorry-” Kevin stuttered. As he tried to pull out you grabbed his hips and pulled him aggressively, making him go deeper inside you and hitting that spot you couldn't reach on your own.

“Don’t stop, please!” You whined, your hips thrusting to get him to move inside.

And it was like a switch had turned on within Kevin, because he instantly locked you in place and started fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. Deep hard thrusts going in and out of your heat as his arms wrapped around you, making you absolutely delirious.

“Fuck you feel so amazing baby, so tight…” He mumbles against your lips as he kisses you, continuing to pound himself into you. He slightly grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling it towards him as you moan loudly.

“Oh so you do like it rough, don’t you?” He chuckles as you nod your head, smiling back at him as drool starts to spill from the corner of your mouth.

Who would’ve thought his sweet angel would be a nasty little thing? He thought to himself. The idea of you like this, completely giving yourself to him, the way you look at him like he gave you the stars makes his cock throb inside you? It was enough to make him pussy drunk.

Eventually, you reach your highs together, Kevin making sure he cleans you up and gets you everything you need before lying back down to cuddle. You rest your head on his chest, his breathing slowly lulling you to sleep.

“Kevin?” You look up at him, eyelids heavy as you feel yourself slowly closing.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “You’re so good to me, how did I get so lucky?”

“I could ask myself the same thing,” Kevin sighs. “I’d do anything for you, you know that, right?”

“Mhm.” You yawn as you snuggle up to him. “I love you.”

Kevin smiles back at you, kissing your head slowly as he brings you closer to him.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

[ceilidho]

okie dokie I think I might become a regular in your ask box (I sent the lap nap ask) Imagine for one reason or another you want a tattoo and your bestie Johnny who has had one decides to give you tips and advice, after you get it done he tries to convince you to get another, like maybe his name? he will get one too don't worry, it's normal to get best friend tattoos! maybe a tramp stamp, or something on your thigh so he can lift up your skirt "accidentally" to scare off anyone who has an interest in you. Some people are just toxic and don't like opposite gender besties 🤷 (also if available I'll sign off as ☢️, your writing is sooo good 😩🥺)

Johnny who's been practicing stick and poke and he begs, begs, begs you to let him give you one and you finally relent, but you're like, "I don't even want a tattoo - what would I even get?" and he pretends to think about it for a few seconds, like really makes a meal out of thinking of a tattoo for you before he suggests that you get his name. You know, since you're best friends and all. Best friends always do things like that - get matching tattoos, get each other's names or birthdays, that sort of thing.

You're so sceptical at first because like. You've heard of couples getting each other's names but not friends. Certainly not when you're friends with someone like Johnny, who's flirty and cocky and constantly squishes your face when he's drunk and says you have pretty cocksucking lips and snorts when you tell him that's inappropriate before popping a little peck on them. Just friendly drunken behaviour from your flirt of a best friend, but maybe a reason to avoid having future potential partners think there's something going on between the two of you.

But you finally give in because, why not. Especially if it's only a little thing. It'll be a good memory and surely your future partner will understand - it's not like you plan on not being friends with Johnny any time soon. You two are practically attached at the hip. So you tell him sure and then ask him where he's going to put it.

And your heart practically jumps into your throat when he kneels in front of you and spreads your legs to make enough room for himself, hiking the legs of your shorts up a bit until there's a little space made on your inner thigh. You try to be firm and tell him no, but he says that anywhere else would be too noticeable. You'd get tired having to constantly explain to people why you have a man's name tattooed on your body (even though it's normal, friends do that).

It hurts when he gives you the little stick and poke of his name written in his messy handwriting. So close to your pussy that he can probably smell you, and you can't help getting a little wet with his face so close to the space between your legs and the pain that hurts but sends tingles up your body. And the constant living reminder of Johnny now embedded in your skin, stuck on you for the rest of time. Your shorts also tugging against your clit and rubbing whenever your legs so much as twitch because of how high they've ridden up.

Johnny just staring at his name when he's done, licking his lips absentmindedly. Eyes hooded, staring at your inner thigh like he wants to take a bite so bad, even though it's tender and pink and needs to heal. Wants to trace the letters with his tongue. Eyes dragging up your body to find you panting and embarrassed, fists clenched at your sides.

"C'mon, kitty - let's get ye out of those shorts so they dinnae mess up all my hard work, yeah?"

[lovelettersforthedamned]

https://www.tiktok.com/@iamsmexi/video/7253633823198498090

trying to convince frat!peter that you arent drunk when you very much are -🎀

Miss. Mind Reader

--genre: sfw, fluff!!!!

--pairing: frat!peter parker x f!reader

--word count: 0.8k

--warnings: mentions of alcohol, reader is drunk, mention of sexual activities (does not happen), reader is silly and drunk and wants to prove peter wrong (but fails).

oh frat!peter, how i've missed you...

--gif credits: @juliaroleplays

Your head was swirling, but not in the way that makes you want to throw up, not yet at least. The bass of the music bumps throughout your body, making you sway messily to the beat. With your drink in his hand, Peter carries a casual conversation with a few of his brothers. He’s not really listening, he nods carelessly as he pretends to listen. His real focus is on you. He knows that you’re able to take care of yourself in this state, that’s not what he’s thinking about. Peter’s mesmerized by the sight of you, dancing, carefree, and definitely drunk. 

It’s the moment that you trip over your own feet when he decides to excuse himself from the group. A couple of ‘excuse me’s and some weaving around the crowd later, he finally makes his way right behind you. You are too distracted to notice Peter’s presence until you feel a hand slide around your waist, making you jump. “Hey! Why is your–,” your anger fizzles out as soon as you see whose hand is around you. 

Peter lowers his head to your ear, speaking loud enough to make sure you heard him, “You ready to head out, bug?”

“Yeah, just give me a second,” you yell back, unaware of your volume, “I wanna get one more drink before we leave!”

“Yeah, no. You’re already plastered, babe. One more drink and you’re going to be face down on the front lawn in an hour, I guarantee it.” 

Peter doesn’t even give you time to respond before he holds your hand and guides you out of the crowded room. He almost makes it out of the house before another one of his brothers calls out from the stairs, “Hey Pete! You coming back later?”

He pulls you into his side, keeping you stable as you’ve begun to rock back and forth, “I need to make sure she’s alright, so I’m going to stay the night. I’ll see you at class tomorrow.” Peter opens the door with a thumbs up from his brother on the stairs he leads you outside. 

The cool night air hits you and causes a chill to run up your arms, making you nuzzle into Peter’s side. You’re still walking funny, but you’re trying to hide it to the best of your capabilities. You think you’re doing a good job, but as Peter looks down at you, he can’t help but laugh. “Are you feeling alright, bug?” 

You clear your throat and fix your posture before you respond, “I’m fine Peter. Why do you ask?” You’ve stopped leaning into him, your posture is stuck straight as you toddle towards your apartment. “I’m not drunk if that’s what you’re asking,” your voice is almost robotic as you talk. If Peter wasn’t sure that you were drunk already, that last sentence really tied it all together. 

You two slowly but surely make your way up the stairs of your building, Peter mostly behind you with a hand on your back to ensure you don’t fall backward. As soon as you reach your door, Peter sticks his hand in his pocket to grab your keys. Since the beginning of your relationship, Peter has always held your stuff for you, especially when you’re planning on drinking.  

As Peter was about to put the key into the lock, you smack them out of his hand, “If I was drunk, would I be able to do that?”

Peter, standing there completely dumbfounded at what you just did, responds, “Do what?”

You’re in a fighting position, your hands curled into fists as you slur your words, “I was able to sense what your next move was. My mind knows exactly what is going to happen, baby. I’m psychic!” 

“Mhm, okay miss. mind reader,” he bends down to pick up the keys off of the floor, “what’s going to happen when we walk through the door?”

You think for a second as Peter twists the key, waiting for your response to fully open the door. He looks at you with a smirk, awaiting your answer. You smirk as you finally find it, wrapping your arms around his torso, “So should I undress right now, or should you?” 

“Yeah okay,” he kisses the crown of your head as he pushes open the door, “I was planning on going straight to bed, bug, but you’ll get me next time.”

And just like that, his response flies over your head as you’re smushed against his hold, his touch suddenly becoming extremely comfortable. As you stumble into your apartment, Peter knows that you’ve officially reached the point of intoxication to where you’re extremely sleepy. 

The rest of the night is slow. You’re already tucked in bed with a pair of pajama pants and one of Peter’s shirts when he starts taking off your makeup, a glass of water, and Advil on the dresser next to you when you’re completely out. It’s nearly two in the morning when Peter slips into bed beside you. He’s not going to class tomorrow. 

--author's note: FRAT!PETER IS SO BACK!!!! also, writing him comes so easy and i love him so much. another hit from 🎀 anon!!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support me and your fav writers! my asks/inbox is open for requests, or if you just wanna chat!! ok, ily bye<33333

[chaoticbardlady99]

Never Have I Ever… (Astarion x F! Reader) MDNI 18+

Synopsis: You accidentally befriended the Heroes of Baldur’s Gate at Elfsong a little less than a year after the Elderbrain attacked.

Six months later, on your birthday, you are playing a game of “Never Have I Ever” at Elfsong Tavern and a topic of conversation takes a very interesting turn… that leads directly into the bedroom with your roommate, Astarion.

CW: PIV, Oral, Smut, loss of virginity, other sex words I can’t think of, brief mentions of past trauma

Pic does not belong to me

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated 💜 thank you for reading!!!

The warm laughter that fills the air is infectious as you take another welcome sip of the red wine Astarion insisted you try. You are so horribly in love with the man that he could probably convince you to enjoy poison if he really tried.

As a new introduction to the friend group, you didn’t expect to find a roommate a short 3 months after getting your job at Shadowheart’s Clinic. You had just moved to Baldur’s Gate- you apparently have horrible timing- but you were happy to help with healing the injured, checking in on the sick, and even helping people grieve their loved ones appropriately.

You weren’t originally living with anyone. In fact, you had been staying at Elfsong for an extended period of time. Around month 3, you had been playing a late set (Being a cleric and Bard for Oghma is a big job) and you hadn’t noticed the man following you back to your room. Thankfully, Astarion had promised to go see your set and had noticed the intruder after you had said good night.

It was safe to say you were shaken and Astarion immediately told you that you A. Did not have a choice and would be taking his second bedroom and B. Need to be significantly more aware. You agreed to both.

He tries desperately hard to return your rent money to you- insisting that he is more than well off enough. You just stare at him silently until he feels so uncomfortable he takes it. You refuse to live in his very nice townhome for free- especially since you know his backstory.

Astarion has his first place, all to himself, and he has allowed you to intrude upon that space because you very nearly died or worse one night. He swear it isn’t an intrusion, but you always worry- it’s one of the few things you are very good at.

Paying rent also prevents you from becoming unrealistic in your expectations of your relationship with him.

It is just a friendship, roomie situation- nothing more, nothing less. You crave more, obviously, he’s everything you’ve ever wanted out of a partner- even the grumbly, more closed off pieces. You’ve stayed up with him through his nightmares and you’ve fallen asleep in each other’s arms more than a few times, but that was just comfort for him.

Right?

“Never have I ever…,” Wyll trails off, obviously very drunk as he leans on his fiancée, Karlach, for support, “had sex!”

The rest of the group groans about how unfair that is, but you aren’t necessarily sure what to do.

You’re a virgin and it’s something you’ve kept pretty close to the chest up until this point. You might as well keep the party rolling.

You barely drink- just enough to pretend- and no one seems the wiser.

Oh, but you are just a silly little drunk fool because of course Astarion notices. You are practically all he seems to notice anymore- or at least that’s what it feels like.

Everything about you pulls him in and he craves you.

Gods does he crave you.

He has to bite back the possessive growl that threatens to tear through his throat as he watches the alcohol not even touch your lips- the sleight of hand may have tricked their companions, but not him.

He adores you and at first it mortified him- now it just consumes him. Astarion loves spending every second he can with you- whether that be reading, cuddling, talking, etc. Maybe another activity could be added to the addendum…

His fangs nip his bottom lip as he tries to snap himself back into reality and not be stuck in the idea of what you would sound like underneath him. It’s especially hard to ignore the fact that he would be the only one who knows what pleasure looks like on your face and in your voice- how your body responds to being teased and worshipped.

“Star! You’re bleeding!”

Shit. I must have bit my lip too hard.

You take your clean napkin and begin to dab away the blood on his lip. The moment your other hand touches his cheek to keep him steady- he feels like he’s melting.

“All better,” you say with a beaming smile.

“Thank you, Darling. I have no idea what I would do without you.”

“I don’t know what he’d do without you,” Tav drunkenly chimes in, Gale facepalms at his wife’s antics, “gosh darn’t- stop spilling your own blood! Worst vampy ever!”

The collective HUSH around the table makes Astarion laugh and Tav looks at him sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“Oh it is more than fine, my very drunk friend,” Astarion teases, “if anything, I think you need more wine.”

Gale groans, “please don’t encourage her.”

Astarion’s spirit became more and more restless the longer the night out continued. This wasn’t his ideal plan for the night, but he had chickened out at the last minute.

He had initially wanted to take you out on a date- today is your birthday and you didn’t want the whole group to know since you don’t love the attention, but Astarion has taken advantage of the opportunity.

He had already given you the flowers he had “just happened” to find earlier that day and you had been over the moon.

Astarion had also ‘purchased’ a gold bracelet for you- the delicate metal was simple with a single malachite heart charm on it. He learned very, very quickly that you believe in all that ‘crystal nonsense’ as Lae’zel puts it. Astarion’s heart glows a little bit when he catches it reflecting candle light off your wrist. You loved the bracelet equally as much and kissed him on the cheek.

While he isn’t necessarily sure he believes in that crystal nonsense, Astarion does believe in you so the Rhodochrosite bracelet you had bought him shortly after you moved in is almost always on his wrist. You explained that it was meant to heal trauma- he later learned that it more specifically helped with sexual trauma. You never elaborated on it or pestered, but the gesture in itself made him feel accepted and safe.

The first night he opened up to you had also been the first time it hit him that he genuinely has feelings for you. Those feelings have grown naturally and Astarion rarely feels the need to put a mask up when he’s around you anymore. Astarion is as ‘messy’ as he wants because you’d already seen through him and you have continued to hold space for him- grounding him in your atmosphere.

You want him too- of course. Whether you have realized that or not yet- Astarion isn’t sure.

You occasionally let him feed from you (if you don’t have to pull an all-nighter for a Tavern gig) and he can taste your desire in your blood. The shyness and lack of advances on your end make more sense now- you are entirely inexperienced.

It’s absolutely delicious and now Astarion is really kicking himself for not asking if you could both skip meeting with your mutual companions to go out together.

Astarion wanted to ask to take you to dinner. He wasn’t quite sure why that was his first thought considering he can’t eat, but he figured he could drink wine while the two of you talked. His next plan of action was to offer his hand to you as you walked home together, maybe read together for a bit, and then he was hoping that you could be, well, intimate with each other. He genuinely wants to be with you that way and he hopes the feeling is mutual, but that you don’t only see him as a sex object.

Astarion breathes a sigh of relief when the group finally decides to leave the tavern. It may not be the night he envisioned, but it’s quickly amended by the walk home. His idle fingers take up the space between yours and you don’t fight the invasion- instead you smile coyly and a Rosie blush paints your cheeks. He wonders what it would feel like to have your hands entangled in his hair as he-

“Astarion?”

His train of thought is interrupted by his name leaving your lips- your brows furrowed in concern.

“Are you okay? I’ve been asking you if you want to continue to read that book together when we get home, but you seem kind of out of it.”

“Oh!” he manages to choke out, “I- of course, Darling- I would love to continue our book. I apologize, I didn’t realize how lost in thought I had become.”

You open the door of the apartment, a look of concern still adorning your face. You are so adorable and wonderful- he wants to kiss the worry off of your face.

You are discarding your shoes at the door while Astarion goes to locate the bottle of wine he had purchased earlier that day. Reading is fun and all, but Astarion has another idea.

Why not use a childish game to move your relationship forward? It’s not like Astarion has ever claimed to be above that and he could easily pass the idea off as wanting to continue having fun.

“That’s not a book,” you tease, eyeballing the bottle of wine suspiciously, “are you attempting to put me in a stupor and on my birthday nonetheless?”

“Darling,” he says with a gasp, his hand splayed across his chest, “how dare you accuse me of such a thing? I’m positively hurt.”

You merely roll your eyes at him, but happily accept the glass he pours you. As you go to sip- he puts his hand over the top of the glass.

“I was thinking we could continue that debaucherous little game we were all playing earlier,” Astarion says with feigned innocence, “what was it called again? Ever have I? Never have I?”

“Never have I ever?”

Astarion tries not to smile too widely at the way your eyes slightly widen at his words and his enthusiastic nod. He wonders if you realize you’ve been caught.

“Yes! Thank you, Darling- that would have driven me to the brink of insanity,” he says with a chuckle, “in the spirit of good fun, you may go first.”

You give him an unamused look before giving in.

“Never have I ever….. been a VAMPIRE!”

“You wretched little-!”

Astarion scowls, pretending to be irritated as he sips his wine. He narrows his eyes at you and feels his chest bloom with feelings of affection as the mischievous glint in your eye grows brighter.

“Never have I ever… lit a bookshelf on fire.”

Your cheeks burn brightly as you leer at him over the top of your glass. The questions continue to be absurd and personal- questions that the others wouldn’t even begin to think about asking.

Never have I ever read this trashy novel, never have I ever been personally victimized by my roommate buying a ‘stay out’ sign, so on and so forth until Astarion finally feels comfortable enough to use the one ‘never have I ever’ that he’s been sitting on since you both arrived at home.

“Never have I ever lied about having sex.”

The look on your face is priceless. Astarion can’t help but let the thrilled little giggle leave his lips as you stammer over your words.

“Uh- I- hmmmmmmmmm,” you gulp the remaining morsels of wine, “how did you… was it that obvious?”

It’s moments like these where he forgets tact and says the first stupid thing that comes to his brain.

“No, I just made a point of watching.”

Shit.

Your lips purse as a look of satisfaction crosses your face. You wiggle your eyebrows at him before pouring yourself a bit more wine.

“Oh is that so?” you tease, “and why ever would you feel the need to do that?”

Cheeky pup.

“Hmmmm,” he hums, sliding closer to you on the couch, “you could say it may align with an interest of mine?”

The words you are about to say die on your tongue when his fingers begin to trail up under your dress- his eyes find yours in an attempt to ask a silent question.

Your eyes are blown wide with lust, need, and adoration. Your body naturally relaxes under his touch and he can already smell the scent of your budding arousal.

“Wh- what kind of interest?” You whisper, looking at him earnestly.

“Well,” Astarion moves until he’s hovering over you on the couch, he begins leaving a trail of sweet kisses along your jaw, “a tactful, brilliant individual such as myself needed to know for research as you are a subject I have yet to study.”

“And if you were?” you stammer, “given the opportunity, I mean?”

Astarion’s route along your jaw stops abruptly as he looks at you- the nervousness in your voice causing him to doubt his assessment of the situation. He’s surprised to see a hopefulness in your gaze- maybe you do just want sex? Maybe that’s all you want from this at all?

Astarion tries to suppress the disappointment that threatens to pull angry words out of his mouth. If this is what he is to you then he supposes he can live with that.

“Naturally we’d be having sex already, my Dear.”

You are searching his face and your lips are pursed in a thin line.

“I haven’t been… intimate with anyone because I want it to be with someone I really care about,” you say softly, “and I really care about you, Astarion. That’s why I want to make sure that this is what you want- that you care about me in this way too.”

Astarion isn’t really sure what to do with that information. He’s sure the blank stare on his face isn’t helping the situation or your nervousness.

A choked sob gets stuck in his throat- you care for him and you are willing to have sex with him because you care for him. It’s not just because you think he’s ‘pretty’ or fell for all his honeyed words.

“This is what I want, Darling,” he returns your words with equal softness, “I want to be with you in every intimate way imaginable.”

A shock overwhelms his body when you sit up and hesitantly press your lips to his, but he rebounds even faster the moment you start to pull away.

Your lips are soft and warm against his. They are even more wonderful than he could ever imagine. Astarion grinds himself into you- noting how perfectly you fit together with him between your legs. The shakey moan and clash of teeth causes him to smile.

Instead of taking control of the situation, he allows you to guide him. Your inexperienced mouth is clumsy with it’s affections as you learn how to intertwine yourself with him.

The touch and act is affectionate and unhurried, curious and innocent. Astarion feels like a giddy virgin himself as he begins to explore the skin hiding underneath your flimsy dress.

Your arousal is already coating the inside of your thighs, your underwear soaked through, and Astarion nearly loses his composure entirely. He wants to let you take this at your pace, but Gods above that is not going to be an easy feat.

His curious hands find purchase on your hips and at the hem of your underwear- his thumbs dipping underneath the fabric to tease you ever so slightly.

It feels like electricity courses through both of you with each moment of skin contact. You’ve laid next to each other, you’ve fallen asleep in each other’s arms, and overall, you’ve developed a friendship with each other.

You feel made for him and he feels made for you.

You have never felt more confident in a decision in your entire life. Your body sparks to life under his touch and you try to push aside the embarrassment you feel with every whimper and moan that leaves your lips.

You want- no need- more. You want to know him and you want him to know you.

You boldly allow your hands to meet his and you begin to discard your already soaked underclothes- Astarion growls against your neck at the action. His hands grab yours- pinning them above your head and you whine in protest.

“Someone’s eager,” he teases, “are you tired of feeling empty, Little Love? Would you like me to ruin you for anyone else?”

You clench around nothing and shake your head ‘yes desperately in response. Astarion clicks his tongue and smiles devilishly.

“That’s not an answer, Darling.”

“Please.”

He lifts an eyebrow expectantly and you huff in frustration- looking away from him. One of his hands guides your eyes back to his and his thumb gently glides along your lower lip, coaxing a needy whimper from you.

You feel so embarrassed- trying to express what you need, but maybe he finds it enduring? Or at least you hope he does.

“Will you please make love to me, Astarion?”

Astarion’s face looks like the definition of happiness as he smiles down upon you- for a creature of the night, he sure is capable of beaming like the sun.

The offending article of clothing is removed and tossed somewhere across the living room as Astarion settles his face in between your legs.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” he says teasingly while nipping at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He takes his sweet time kissing and cleaning up the nectar that coats your legs, your growing need making you more and more impatient as you writhe under his touch. Astarion makes a point of avoiding your wanting heat- tears pricking your eyes as you become more and more overstimulated.

“You are so, so beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, “so beautiful and good.”

“Astarion, please.”

The desperation in your voice pulls a hum of pleasure from Astarion as he presses one more kiss on the inside of your thigh. You open your mouth to beg again- to ask for literally any contact- when you feel his cold tongue lick all the way up your folds, circling your sensitive clit, before latching his lips to the bundle of nerves.

You keen- loudly- at the sudden attention on your clit and Astarion has seemed to quickly find that perfect spot- teasing it with his tongue as your back arches and your hips press into his face.

Astarion’s fingers push your hips down, locking you in place against the couch, and you feel another shudder of arousal go through you when you think about the bruises that are bound to be on your hips in the morning.

Astarion’s expert tongue circles and teases at your clit- occasionally taking a detour to taste you, lapping up every part of your essence.

He feels like he’s starving as he devours you with his tongue- if he could have it his way, he would never stop.

You are so wet for him that the couch underneath you is soaked and your dress surely isn’t much better off. Your moans and whimpers cause his cock to strain painfully against the front of his pants.

He decides to kiss back up your body, ripping open the lacy fabric of your dress. The Gods must be real because it’s a damn miracle that you aren’t wearing a bra.

Thankfully you don’t seem to be too worried about the state of your dress.

Astarion greedily sucks one of your nipples between his teeth while the other is rolled between his thumb and index finger.

He wants to consume you and you want to be consumed.

Your fingers find purchase in his hair and you have his mouth on yours within seconds. His other hand returns to your now neglected breast. You cry out against his mouth with each pinch of his fingers and your pleasure has begun to soak through the front of his own pants. He’s certain he’s created his own mess anyway.

Admittedly, he’s been thinking about playing with your breasts all week. You loudly complained about how sore they felt since your moon blood was coming next week. Astarion has been thinking about every delicious way to massage the soreness away since.

His hips grind into your exposed cunt- snaking one of his hands inbetween the two of you, he begrudgingly replaces the pressure of his clothed cock by sliding a finger inside of you.

He adores how your back arches underneath him and the way his name falls off your lips like a prayer. Your heels are digging into his back and your head is thrown back as you keen with each movement of his finger. Astarion curls his fingers upward and focuses on the perfect spot- your toes curl with the sensation and your moans become higher in pitch.

The second one meets some resistance and he’s almost positive a third finger is going to be needed before you are ready, but you clench around his hips, grabbing his attention.

“Astarion- I need you inside me please,” you beg him.

Whatever resolve he had to make sure you were 100 percent ready has broken with that simple sentence. He’s pulling you up off the couch and into his arms- practically racing to throw you on the bed in his room.

To be entirely honest- Astarion can’t even remember if he was actually wearing any clothes considering how quickly he pulls them off.

Astarion has you laid across his bed- ready and wanting for him. You are positively exquisite.

Your shy eyes and body try to hide from him- your arms coming to cover your breasts and your eyes looking away from him. You are suddenly very aware of the lack of clothing and Astarion- well- he looks like an angel.

You drink in his silhouette while avoiding his eyes and you feel yourself clench around nothing at the sight of his cock- hard and dripping with precum because of you. You. The silly, awkward virgin that has never been in a relationship before.

Eager hands are entangling themselves with yours and Astarion’s suddenly on top of you again with your arms pinned away from your face.

“Look at me.”

The command sends a wave of desire through you- Astarion’s voice is thick with arousal and you forget to breathe when you finally look at him.

Astarion has been all sharp edges and mischief since you’ve met him, but right now?

His eyes are soft and inviting- akin to warm crimson bed sheets rather than blood weeping from a cut. Astarion’s lips are slightly parted as he tries to commit your face to memory. His usually perfect hair is mussed up from all the attention you’ve given it.

“I am certain the Gods have sent you to destroy me,” he murmurs in awe before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “tell me if I need to be more gentle, my Love.”

Astarion lines himself up with your entrance and you wrap your legs around his waist. He gently pushes himself inside of you, giving a little bit more every time until his hips are flush against yours. The further he goes, the more his train of thought disappears.

You feel wonderful and the whimpers that leave your mouth with every inch more he gives you makes him moan loudly into the crook of your neck. He kisses up and along your jaw, praising you for taking him so well.

You have never felt more full in your entire life- it feels… right. Like your body has been made to fit with Astarion’s. The light rocking movement of his hips works to ease the initial discomfort of adjusting to his size, but you already feel like you need more. You want to be lost in this moment with him- you want to know and feel everything.

It’s as if he reads your mind as he pace begins to pick up, his thrusts begin to get longer and more drawn out. The tears that were initially pricking your eyes have disappeared entirely in favor of desperate, borderline embarrassing, wanting moans.

“You feel so incredible, Darling,” Astarion whines as thrusts into you, “you are being so good for me.”

His eyes meet yours and he slows his motions ever so slightly- your body protests at the loss of friction, but Astarion’s lips gently coaxing gasps from yours distracts your body from the lack of motion.

The world surrounding you feels absolutely nonexistent as Astarion kisses you deeply. One of his hands finds purchase in your hair and deepens the kiss even more. You feel as if you could float away from the onslaught of affection as you return his affections with equal fervor.

Astarion pulls himself almost entirely out of you before snapping his hips- rutting himself back into you. Your lips leave his, favoring a shape fit for a breathy cry of pleasure.

He finds your eyes again in the haze of his own euphoria. This is a dream to him- a wonderful, beautiful dream.

“I adore you,” you whisper against his lips.

Astarion smiles giddily.

“And I, you.”

Astarion loses his composure as he picks up his pace again- you clench around him, your already tight heat engulfing him even more with each movement of his hips. Your orgasm runs through you- your legs are shaking around him as your grip around his hips begins to give.

Astarion supports the lower half of your body, groping your ass as he chases his own little death.

“I need you to cum inside me, Astarion,” you say wistfully, “cum for me please.”

That’s all it takes to drive him over the edge entirely- no longer able to hold on anymore as his seed pours inside of you. Astarion buries his face in the crook of your neck as he let’s the feeling of pleasure wash over him.

You smell of sex and your favorite soap, which has coincidentally become his favorite soap, and he sighs happily when you start lazily tracing circles along his shoulders. You’ve done this for him before, in a more clothed setting, but it’s a thousand times better when he’s able to feel all of you against him.

Astarion can’t remember the last time he had sex with someone and felt like he was comfortable in their arms. Honestly, he’s more than comfortable with you and yes, that does terrify him.

He just had the best sexual experience of his life and yet he is still terrified because he doesn’t want you to leave or decide this is all he’s good for.

“Starry?”

He hums in response.

“Are you okay?” you ask in a whisper, “you got really tense just now.”

Astarion is quick to look at you when you ask that question. Your eyes are curious and your brow is furrowed. He really can’t hide anything from you. Astarion rolls over onto his back- not wanting you to see how scared and already heartbroken he is. He honestly isn’t sure what he would do if he stopped meaning anything to you- anything of value anyway.

“I… I don’t want…,” he struggles to get the words out, “I- this has been probably the single best sexual escapade that I have ever had, my Love. My only hope is that… you don’t only see me for, well, sex after tonight.”

He’s surprised when you crawl over to him, straddle him, and then put his face between your hands. The serious look in your eyes worries him- did he upset you? Offend you? Are you going to-

“I want you to throw that thought away right now and if you can’t- then I will assure you everyday before it goes away,” you say firmly, “I’ve fallen for you- all of you- over these several months. I think you are the smartest, most interesting, and funniest man I have ever met. I look forward to coming home to you and I hate leaving in the mornings.

“I… you are all I have ever wanted out of a partner or even just a person, Astarion. I choose you- I choose you everyday- in whatever way you’ll have me.”

All Astarion does is cry in response. He doesn’t mean to and of course he wishes he would stop.

I’ve known you for 200 years. Haven’t I suffered enough?

I choose you- I choose you everyday.

You hold him while he cries and Astarion lets himself soak up the feeling of safety- truly believing it this time. You want him for him and you will never know how much that means, but Astarion always will.

When he’s done crying, he kisses you gently sitting you both up against the headboard with you still on his lap. Astarion runs circles into your thighs as you lay your head on his chest and his head rests against yours. You remain there together for a while before you finally break the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it Star?”

Astarion thinks for a moment.

“I- no,” he says hesitantly, “not right now- I just want to enjoy this moment with you, my Dear.”

You hum in response and then look around the room. Your eyes spot something that causes you to sport the cheekiest grin Astarion has ever seen.

“You didn’t finish your wine.”

He looks over and then back to you with an eyebrow raised.

“I suppose I did not. Why-“

“Never have I ever had sex with someone on their birthday.”

A pregnant pause envelopes the space between you- Astarion blinks at you a few times in astonishment and then reaches for the wine glass- a loving smile on his face.

He’s grateful- you never push him and you don’t force him to continue talking about difficult subjects once he’s calmed down. Perhaps he’s even more grateful that he may be able to spend a lifetime with you, if he plays his cards right. Gods, he hopes he plays his cards right. Astarion is not much of a planner after all.

“You’re lucky I adore you.”

“I know.”

[soxcietyy]

Addicted to you

Yuta x reader Aged up

Two academics rivals see eachother at a frat party. Little does the other person know how badly he wanted you.

It takes him not even a second to recognize you by the faint sound of your laugh. Even with the loud music blaring into his ears he wouldn’t be able to miss such a sound. His eyes scanned the room full of people as he searched for you. Looking at every person until he found those beautiful eyes of yours. There you were, standing in thoes dirty tennis shoes you always wore. Standing in a cute tight dress that suited you perfectly. With a red solo cup in your hand as you laughed and danced with your friends.

"Yuta! Pass me the bottle next to you." Someone yelled trying to get his attention.

He grabbed the closest alcohol bottle and handed it to whoever asked for it. He didn’t bother to turn to look at them because he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you as much as he wanted to. He was surprised to see you here. A person who was an academic achiever, who wouldn’t be caught dead at a frat party. Someone who held themselves at such a high standard and would supposedly never snoop down so low. What could you doing here at all places? Especially on a school night.

His breath hitched when the both of you made eye contact from across the room. Your bright eyes quickly turning into glaring ones.

The both of you had some sort of rivalry going on. An academic rivalry if he had to be exact. Both of you had a few of the same classes together due to you guys being in the same major. You and Yuta were the top in all the classes you shared. Sometimes you would score higher or sometimes it was the other way around. This all started since high school and it carried out to junior year in college.

It didn’t help that your teachers would put you guys up against each other every time. He remembered how back then you guys were best friends. You would go out to eat, hang out, and study together. Now every time you were near each other tension could be sensed. If he had to be honest he hated it. He missed how you guys used to be and missed being around you. Everything about you was so perfect and yet you hated his guts.

Why did people have to put you up against each other? Why did they have to convince you that he was a bad guy.

He wanted to show you how much you meant to him. How much he thinks about you daily. How much he misses you and needs you so badly because he’s never met anyone like you. He didn’t want anyone but you.

He would ask around to figure out the classes you were going to take. Your schedule for the semester, when you would go out to eat or go to the library. He made sure that you would know he was also there but make it seem like a coincidence.

You had no idea how tightly you had him wrapped around your finger.

He lazily threw his head back as he took a shot that his friend handed to him. Hopefully it was enough to give him some courage to approach you. When everything went down he threw the cup onto the table and started making his way to you. Maybe the shot was a bad idea because he had already been drinking for a while. Plus he was already feeling it by the time he made to you.

You didn’t seem to notice him until your friends tapped your shoulder. When you did you frowned at the sight of him. He looked at you with his dark eyes intensely before stumbling a bit. You roll your eyes realizing he was drunk.

"Go back from where you came from Yuta. Dont tell me you came to boast about your recent exam grade. I don’t have time for you to ruin my night." You say as you turn back around to your friends.

Your scent hit him as you turned around making him want you more. Fuck a drug or alcohol addiction, your scent was his worst addiction and he was afraid he would act up because of it. Sadly the alcohol in his system made him act upon his thoughts. He wrapped his arms around you as he buried his face into the back of your head. He took a big whiff of your smell as your body suddenly tensed.

"Yuta?! What do you think you’re doing?” You say as you try to get his arms to release you.

"M’ so sorry, I don’t want to ruin your night but I need you so bad." He said as he hugged you tighter.

You could hear as your friend giggled and awed about Yutas actions. You had no idea if he was drunk or accidentally got something slipped into his drink. He must be confusing you for some other chick because when would Yuta Okkotsu be interested in you?

You somehow manage to slip out of his arms and grab him by the face.

"You want me to call you an Uber? You’re going to be embarrassed tomorrow when you find out that you were saying all this stuff to me. Can’t believe you mistook me for someone else." You say as you pull out your phone.

Your eyes were forced to look back up while trying to get onto the Uber app. He looked at your face for what seemed like a minute trying to figure out who you were.

"No, I could never mistake y/n" he said as he swayed a bit.

You looked at him stunned at what just came out his mouth. Before you could say anything he leaned in and kissed you on the lips. It was a long kiss that turned into a full on make out session. You could taste the drinks that he had been consuming tonight. You could also taste how desperate he was to be kissing you. His hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you in closer. One of his hands grabbing onto your chin so he could have you in the perfect possession.

You melted into his embrace as the kissing kept going. He was going at it non stop until you pushed him away from a breath of fresh air. When you did he decided you attacked your neck by smooching all over it.

"Oh he’s so going to be embarrassed tomorrow." You heard your friend say only to realize that she had recorded the whole interaction.

[love-belle]

always you !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which he realises that he has always loved her.

or

for when the one you need has been there all along. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

real life // carlos sainz x fem!reader

warnings - language, implied alcohol consumption, mentions of having sex.

author's note -

≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱

if carlos could be really honest with himself, he thought that he was a bit stupid.

(an understatement, as lando would say when he would talk to him about whatever he wanted to talk about as charles would laugh in the background.)

well, he was too stupid.

but in his defense, he genuinely didn't know. he didn't even realise that it'd been a week since he actually saw y/n in person, sure, they called and texted but it wasn't the same. not when it came to carlos and y/n. the last time he saw her, she was leaving his hotel room, her high heels in one hand and the only goodbye she gave him was the harsh slam of the door.

he didn't even realise he was doing it, the avoiding, the small talk, the rare texts at three a.m. when he couldn't sleep, he didn't realise he was unknowingly pushing her away.

all he knew what that y/n had been on his mind. a lot. not normal for someone to have their best friend — from whom they were trying to move on from, on their mind. all he could think about at times when he couldn't think of anything else was y/n. he thought about the way she made him feel seen, the way she held his hands when they were in a crowded space, the way she laughed and leaned her head on his shoulder, the way she always ate the leftover tomatoes for him, the way he didn't have to tell her what was wrong — she knew.

it was just y/n, y/n, y/n and it scared carlos. 

it scared him how much he thought of her when she wasn't near, the amount of times he just looked at her and his mind went 'pretty' or beautiful' or 'just so damn pretty it's not fair.' the way he always wanted to keep on holding her hand, in public, when they were home, when she was laying right next to him. and it was scary.

it was scary because he did something he shouldn't have, especially not when you were trying to convince yourself that you were not in love with your best friend.

he slept with her. and then said that it was a mistake.

and because, carlos was stupid — this had been said before and it will be said again — he decided that the only way to get rid of all the mess in his mind would be to get drunk and have fun and to him, it was a fairly good idea — and because he was stupid, he completed missed the fact that y/n would be there because they had the same fucking group of friends.

so, as soon as carlos reached the club, he fairly ruled it out that the universe hated him. he was sure of it. but to be fair, he was the one who said that whatever happened was a mistake and that they'll just have to pretend that nothing happened.

pretend as if the course of their everything, their friendship, their dynamic, their life, their relationship wasn't altered forever.

she, of course, agreed, a small although fake smile on her lips as she got dressed and left without saying goodbye — not that carlos deserved it. he had acted like an asshole, sleeping with his best friend and then asking her to act like nothing happened.

and now, when she was acting like nothing happened, he apparently had a problem with it. and it didn't help that she looked so fucking good doing it, the long dress revealing just enough to leave the spectator yearning for more, the slit being just a bit too long, her neckline sweeping with her tattoos making an appearance — flashes of ink that had his mind filling with images of that night, making him shake his head as if it got rid of those thoughts.

it was simple but of course, on her, everything was nothing short of gorgeous — according to carlos anyway.

it was confusing, ridiculous even, the fact that carlos had started to look for her as soon as he stepped foot in the club, searching the crowd for the familiar pair of eyes that drove him crazy. he almost felt like he was breaking an invisible promise to himself as he weaved through the sweaty bodies of the people on the dance floor, determined to at least talk to her. all he knew that he wasn't supposed to this affected by her ignoring him.

it felt a bit strange, if carlos could be really honest. yesterday, they were friends — best friends. and now, he felt as if he was looking for a whole new person, someone he didn't even know because she wasn't just his best friend anymore, not after last night. not when he now knew exactly how to make her scream.

all this new found knowledge was making his head spin, the way their dynamic was flipped upside down and the fact they could never go back. no matter how many times they'd try to get back to how it was before, it wouldn't be the same. and besides, how could it?

"we'd go back to being all normal, no?" carlos had asked her yesterday as he laid on her hotel bed, watching her get dressed, "like — it's all good?"

her answer to his question had been a laugh of disbelief, a muttered 'sure' leaving her and carlos believed her.

carlos was wrong. again.

he knew it. he knew it as he watched her walk around him, not even sparing him a glance as she straight up left the area pierre had booked for the evening, muttering about getting some air to carmen and kika.

and the worst of it all was that carlos knew he deserved it.

"what just happened?" carlos snapped out of his thoughts as he turned to look at charles, who looked at him with furrowed brows. "what was that?"

"what was what?" he knew exactly what it was, he just wasn't ready to say it out loud, to acknowledge everything that had happened in the course of the last 24 hours because saying it out loud, uttering those words would make it a hundred times more real and he wasn't ready to face reality right now.

"she didn't even look at you," charles spoke, his face scrunched up as if whatever he witnessed was not meant to happen. "are you guys fighting?"

"wha — no!" carlos exclaimed, growing defensive as he crossed his arms, "we're good."

"yeah, okay," charles snorted, downing his drink in one go and turning to face him completely. "what did you do now?"

"why is that you always assume i did something?"

"because it is always you that does something," charles rolled his eyes, giving him a look. "what happened?"

"i don't like your tone," carlos muttered, taking a sip of his drink before speaking. "we may have gotten into an — altercation. i think."

"what's an alternation?"

"it's when you — nevermind," carlos sighed, not even knowing what it really meant and he did not have the energy to take out his phone and google it. "we had a — i messed up, charles. really bad."

"no shit," charles chuckled, looking amused at his teammate's expense, "what happened?"

"well, it's complicated."

"i wouldn't know until you tell me."

"i told you it's complicated!"

"what is?!"

"i — i slept with her."

"WHAT?"

"i know," carlos groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "it's all messed up now."

"but why?" charles asked, a confused look on his face. "you finally confessed, no?"

"no."

"see now, that is all messed up."

"i come to you for moral support and this is what you say," carlos glared half-heartedly at charles, who just shook his head. "but no, i didn't confess."

"what's messed up then?" charles asked, ordering more drinks for both of them, for which the spaniard was grateful for.

"i told her that it was a mistake," carlos grimaced, not looking up at the monégasque, knowing he would be angry with him. charles has always treated y/n like the sister he never had and he had always been protective over her and carlos did not want to be on the other side of his anger. "and asked her to pretend that it never happened."

charles stayed silent for a better part of the minute, not that it did anything to calm carlos. he knew that he was going to get his ass handed to him in just a few seconds — no one fucked with y/n with the grid around.

"i'm gonna give you ten seconds to get your ass out of here and make this right."

carlos did not need to be told twice.

≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱

"hey."

y/n jumped slightly as carlos approached her, making him chuckle quietly a small 'sorry' leaving his lips.

"what are you doing here?" y/n asked, turning back to the front as she crossed her arms.

"i saw you left — "

"yeah, for a reason."

carlos nodded, wincing slightly but knowing that she had full right to be mad at him and that he deserved it.

he stood beside her, a decent amount of space between them and despite being only mere inches away, she seemed so far, so out of his reach. looking out towards the harbour, the yachts, clusters of people walking around, his mind drifted off to the girl standing next to him and how much she meant to him, thinking of all the things he wanted to tell her.

he wanted to tell her thank you, for everything. from standing up for him in middle school to that one time she skipped junior year school dance so that they could watch a movie together to when she moved halfway around the world for him, just so he'd never be away from home to when she continued to be there for him, even when he didn't deserve it.

he wanted to tell her sorry, for all the times they fought and it was his fault, for every time he walked out after a particular tense fight, for whenever he snapped at her while she was just trying to make him feel better and for all the times he should've been the best friend she deserved but he wasn't — he couldn't be.

he wanted to tell her just how much she meant to him. just how much her little gestures meant to him. from all the sticky notes she'd love around their apartment, words or encouragement and stupid little puns with hearts all around to the way she'd always stay up until he was back home, nevermind it be 2 in the morning or 5 in the morning, he'd walk in and she'd be on the couch, a tired but genuine smile on her face. from the way she'd pull him even closer when he'd fall asleep on her while watching a trashy movie, his fingers loosely intertwined with hers to the way she'd always stay by his side whenever they went out.

he wanted to tell her that he loved her — romantic feelings be damned. he was in love with her, the way she knew him better that he knew himself, the way she knew how to make him smile, the way she knew exactly what to say. he wanted to tell her that she was his best friend but she was so much more than that.

he wanted to tell her that he loved her and as the realisation settled in, it didn't even seem that hard. loving her — it was something he'd been doing all along. and how could he not?

she was nice, especially when he had a bad day and wasn't in the mood to talk, so she'd just go and lay beside him, doing her own thing because she didn't want to leave him alone, keeping him company in his worst times. he could be sleeping there peacefully and she'd still stay, not wanting him to wake up alone on days like that. she'd stay until she fell asleep herself, content because he was with her.

she was funny, especially when she'd make a joke and look straight at him, wanting to see his laugh and the joy light up his face. the way he'd throw her head back and laugh at whatever she said, or lean his head on her shoulder. he loved it because no one ever made him laugh like y/n, everything was even more funny with her — full of life. he was always laughing around her, never a dull or joyless moment with him.

she was respectful, especially when she knew he didn't wanna talk and just wanted to be alone, so she'd leave—but not before talking to someone about him and that she was worried about him, asking them to call her if he needed anything. and if they called, she'd be driving to where he was without even a word, whether it be three in the morning or three in the afternoon, she was always there standing at his door with a smile and his favourite flowers.

and she was kind, especially when he was feeling down because of something someone said on social media and he was bringing herself down because of it. she'd spend the whole day telling him that he was 'fucking perfect' and 'the most pretty and beautiful and gorgeous and hot and angelic and adorable and cool and nice person' she'd ever met. she'd tell him everything that made him that important to her, listing everything off the top of her mind like she was reading a book, the list seemingly never ending.

and she was really, really, really pretty, especially when she looked at him when she laughed, the look of pure joy on her face. she looked pretty when she smiled, genuinely, at him or at something he had said. she looked pretty when she had just woken up next to him on the couch after they fell asleep watching a movie. she looked pretty even when she wasn't trying.

she's just that pretty all the time, carlos corrected himself.

"i could have loved you, you know?" carlos spoke, looking at the city lights shining. he couldn't even register the words leaving his mouth until it was too late and he could only wait with bated breath as they registered in y/n's brain. "i — i really could have."

he could feel y/n freeze next to him, her breath getting caught in her throat and he almost felt guilty for saying that to her, now that he knew that she loved him. saying those words out loud to her felt like giving her a piece of his heart, a part that he had hidden away. saying those words to her felt like crossing a line and he wasn't sure as to how he'd recover.

"well," y/n started, her voice having the slightest tremble as she fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist, the small 'c' glistening in the moonlight, "why can't you?"

"it's not that — it isn't simple," carlos tried to make it make sense but it wasn't even making sense to him. his mind was a mess, all of his thoughts just having 'y/n! y/n! y/n!' stamped on top of them and he didn't know what to make of it. "i just — i don't know. i just know that i could've loved you in a perfect world."

that wasn't a lie, because in a perfect world, he really would have loved her. they would've had date nights, sometimes staying in to watch a totally random documentary, other times going out to the most lavish of all places. they would've had their own house, something that had 'our home' written all over it. they would've argued about the colour of the kitchen cabinets, the living room rug but eventually, they would've settled down on an intermediate choice. they would've sat at the dining table and gone over their day, recalling the times they almost cried or laughed or both. they would've done the dishes together which would've ended up in them spraying each other with water. they would've been together — they would've been happy.

they wouldn't have to worry about irrational stuff, about what the media would think, about everything and anything else. because it'd be just them. they'd have each other and that would be enough.

"i just know that — that," y/n inhaled sharply, turning to face him and for a moment, carlos thought that he saw her eyes glistening but she blinked and it was gone, "in every world, i would've loved that."

it was silent around them, despite the whole city moving. traffic was pretty heavy and the golden lights of monte carlo could be seen as far as their eyes could see. all of these people were moving around them, time moving around them yet they felt like they were stuck in that moment, not that any of them made a move to get back to the celebrations or even step back.

maybe it was because they knew that once they stepped back, it would be very difficult to get to where they were. that once this moment is gone, once it's a thing of the past, that's where they'll be. a thing that they had — not even a proper thing, if they could be honest.

and as carlos continued to look at y/n, his heart beating fast, he couldn't help but wonder if that was it. that was all with their chapter because to him, it sure felt like it. here he was, telling his best friend that in a perfect world, he could've loved and there she was, telling him that she would've loved that in every world — including this one if carlos read it right between the lines. he couldn't help but think of what he would do if he never saw y/n look at him with that damn smile ever again, if she never walked up to him again and wrapped her arms around his neck, telling her that she missed him and that they need to get coffee. he wasn't sure what he would do if y/n became just someone to him, someone he saw when he was back home, someone he saw on new year's eve and christmas or birthdays — someone he saw through photos on social media. he couldn't bear that.

not when he'd spent his entire life looking for her in crowded rooms. not when he'd sought her in every crowd, his hand holding hers as he pulled her through the mob of people.

he didn't hold on for too long just to let go.

he didn't know exactly what he'd hoped for when he said that they'd pretend that nothing happened between them or when he wished that things between them would go back to normal. but now, he knew the truth, understood it and he knew that she did too.

yesterday, he looked at her and called her his best friend and today, he wasn't even sure who she was to him.

yesterday, he had prayed to every god he knew for them to be okay and today, he was cursing them and himself out because he may have just lost the best thing that was ever his.

yesterday, he didn't know that she had a small tattoo of a butterfly on the inner side of her right thigh but today, he did.

but still, he was scared.

and because he was scared, he kept those things to himself, biting his tongue and instead of saying 'i love you,' he talked about the weather. 

[shaunamilfman]

forever is the sweetest con

Summary: "You know you should be angry when your girlfriend mentions that she kind of wishes your best friend was also here on your date. But if you're honest with yourself, which you rarely are, you kind of wish she was too. Things have been different with Nat in the last year since you and Lottie got together; Just how different, is the question."

A/N: Lottienat x reader! Cowboy Like Me part 2. You don't strictly need to have read Cowboy Like Me to read this, as long as you know that Lottie is your girlfriend and Nat is your best friend.

“God, Nat. It's only 2 PM,” You say teasingly as you slide onto the barstool across from her. “Already hitting the bar?”

“Already hitting the bar?” Nat mocks in a high-pitched voice as she rolls her eyes, but you can see just a hint of a smile appear as she looks up from the glass she's cleaning. 

You prop your head up on your hand as you set your backpack on the seat next to yours. “Busy day?” You ask. 

Nat gives you a crooked grin as she shakes her head. “Mmm, no. But we had–” 

“Always taking up seats from paying customers, ” Your boss Paul complains as he walks in from the back. You make a show of looking at him and slowly looking around the empty bar, a few regulars strewn about drinking in silence and a man dressed in a suit passed out on the other end, before looking back at him. He grumbles in irritation before adding to Nat, “If you're gonna sit here and talk on my money she better order something.”

Nat holds her hands up placatingly before giving you a questioning look. You hum thoughtfully as you look at her before asking, “Can I get some water?” Nat snickers quietly as Paul storms off to the back. She hands you the glass before walking off to wake the drunk businessman up. 

You sit at the bar doing coursework for the next few hours, making sure to pointedly take a sip from your water every time Paul walks out to glare at you. He storms out at 5:59 PM with a smug look on his face, certain he's going to be able to tell you off for it, only to see you smiling innocently as you pour a drink with your backpack hidden behind the bar.

Bartending wasn’t ever something you saw yourself doing, especially working for a man like Paul at his shitty dive bar, but you can’t deny how much you enjoy doing it. Admittedly, that could be because you're working with your best friend. You’d think now that you’re living together you’d be sick of seeing her all the time, but honestly, you think you might be seeing her less than ever. Between Nat working full time and your course load, you barely saw her until you decided to start picking up shifts.

Your girlfriend Lottie stopped by almost as often as you did, happy to sit at the bar when your shifts overlapped to monopolize both of your time. You couldn’t deny her efficiency. You think it might be the only reason that Paul puts up with you doing homework at the bar, as your girlfriend throws enough free money at him when she’s here that he tolerates your presence in order to keep her coming. It certainly wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart, as you all agreed he didn’t have one.

Lottie was initially less than pleased with the change. She knew you were going to have to get a job, but she found the hours you were working to be rather irritating. She'd had some… rather convincing arguments about why you should get a retail job instead, but you managed to hold strong on that particular decision. It had grown on her after a while as she rather enjoyed the sight of you in a black button-up. Besides, she'd missed Nat too and seemed oddly excited to see her as well. 

It has surprised you how much Lottie grew to love Nat, but you certainly weren't going to complain. You'd worried a lot about Lottie and Nat not getting along once the nature of your relationship with Lottie changed, but all of your worry was for naught. In fact, they seemed to enjoy ganging up on you together almost as much as they enjoyed hanging out with you. Overall you were pretty pleased with the situation, even if Lottie had started abandoning some of your study sessions when she got bored to go hang out with Nat instead. You never could get Lottie to focus on any one thing for too long at a time. 

Besides, it made you feel a lot better knowing that Nat wasn’t walking home that late by herself all the time when you weren't working– you didn’t exactly live on the best side of town. Your girlfriend offered to let both of you move into the large two-bedroom apartment her father is renting for her, why he thinks she’ll need that much space you’ll never know, but Nat full out refused to accept it. You of course would never leave Nat to have to move in with some random ass roommate who would more than likely murder her as she didn’t exactly make an imposing figure.

…

Still, as you curl up next to Lottie in the one bed you brought from home with the temperature as high as you can afford to keep it you curse both Nat’s pride and your loyalty. Nat clears her throat awkwardly and you peer over Lottie’s shoulder to look at her. “I can go sleep on the floor–” Nat starts.

“No,” You and Lottie say in unison, rolling your eyes at Nat. Nat grumbles quietly as she buries her head in her pillow, seeming a little uncomfortable on the other side of the bed. Now that you've gotten a good look at her you notice how cold she looks. 

You and Nat had gotten used to cuddling together for warmth since you’d moved in, and you’re nearly kicking yourself for forgetting about her. You think guiltily of all the times she must have shivered across from you while Lottie was staying over.

“You're shivering,” You accuse, shifting up on your elbow to get a better look at her. Lottie makes a displeased noise as you pull away, her eyes blinking open as just the hint of a pout graces her face. “Come here,” You say, moving the arm wrapped around Lottie's back to tug at Nat's arm. 

“I'm good here,” Nat says. 

“Nat,” You groan. “You're obviously cold, just come here.”

“I'm not even cold,” Nat lies, badly. If it wasn't so dark you'd be able to see the blush spreading across her face at the idea of cuddling up to the two of you 

“Don't be a baby,” You mutter, tugging at her arm again.

Nat scoffs. “I am not being a baby,” She defends immediately as her head snaps up from her pillow. 

“That's what someone who's being a baby would say,” Lottie says wryly. 

Nat sputters for a response before groaning in irritation. You can faintly hear the sounds of her cursing both of you out under her breath as she scoots closer. You bury your head back into Lottie's shoulder, the tips of your fingers brushing against Nat's body as you wrap your arm back around Lottie. Lottie makes a contented noise as she's pressed between your body and Nat's side

It's quiet for a long moment before you add, “Now, was that so hard?”

You hiss in pain at the pinch that gets you from Nat, grumbling quietly as she snickers.  “You never quit while you're ahead,” Lottie murmurs against your ear. 

“Mm. No,” Nat agrees, the smile evident in her voice. 

“Fuck both of you,” You mutter. 

“Fuck both of you,” Nat and Lottie both mock, just a second out of sync. Nat immediately starts cracking up, and you can feel Lottie shake with silent laughter. 

“Oh, whatever,” You mutter, pushing against Lottie's shoulder as you pretend to move away. 

“No,” Lottie whines, her arm tightening around your back as she pulls you closer. “Cruel and unusual punishment.”

“How quickly you give in,” Nat accuses wryly. 

“It's not my fault Y/N went nuclear,” Lottie complains.

“Mhm,” Nat murmurs. “Sure.”

Your eyes slip shut to the quiet sounds of their bickering, content to drift off in the comforting weight of Lottie’s arms.

You catch Nat’s eyes over Lottie’s shoulder in the morning, giving her an amused look. Nat’s face creases in confusion for a moment before looking down at her arm. Her face flushes in embarrassment as the realization of her position sets in. It seems that she’s found herself spooning Lottie at some point in the night. She glances at you guiltily as she scoots away, clearing her throat as she slides out of bed and walks off to the bathroom. You laugh quietly as you see the amused look on Lottie’s face. She’d pretended to still be asleep to spare Nat the embarrassment, but you had no such qualms.

…

Nat groans as she walks into the room, her nose scrunching up in distaste. She quickly replaces it with a feigned smile as Lottie glances over at her, upper body damp and covered in soap in her attempt to wash the dishes. Nat leans against the counter next to you as she murmurs, “Is Lottie trying to make breakfast again?” You nod solemnly as you choke down another bite of burnt toast. You slide the plate with your runny eggs over in front of Nat as you quickly make your exit to go get ready for class. 

You ignore the sound of her frantically trying to convince you to come back as you start brushing your teeth, effectively leaving Nat to her fate of either finishing Lottie’s cooking or upsetting her. You spit your toothpaste out with a sigh of relief as the taste is finally washed out of your mouth. You love your girlfriend, truly, but you wish you could ban her from ever entering a kitchen again. Nat shoulder-checks you on the way out, glaring at you as she rushes to brush her teeth too. the smug look you send her only seems to irritate her more, but you take the narrowing of her eyes as a sign to get the fuck out of there.

You press a quick kiss against Lottie’s cheek as you grab your bag and rush out the door. You don’t quite feel safe from Nat’s wrath until you're on the bus towards college, but even then you know she’s just going to get you when you least expect it. As the sweet taste of the granola bar you stuffed in your bag for emergencies fills your mouth, you can’t deny that it was worth it. As you pull your bag out in the lecture hall to find that every single pen, pencil, or highlighter has been taken from your bag you start to wonder how true that statement was. You can’t deny that Nat moves quickly. 

…

“Hey, Y/N,” Nat calls out as she enters the kitchen. You hum in acknowledgment but don't look up from your textbook. Your eyes were starting to cross from the strain, but you only had a few pages left. “What is this?” Nat asks as she flops down in the seat across from you. You glance up to see Nat holding a toothbrush. 

“A toothbrush,” You offer helpfully, hiding your grin as you look back down at the textbook. 

“I know that,” Nat mutters irritably, a hint of fondness still peeking through despite herself. “I also know that there are three toothbrushes in our bathroom and only two people living here.”

“Maybe I bought a second toothbrush.”

“And it just happens to be purple, Lottie's favorite color?” She questions. 

“Heliotrope,” You murmur distractedly, finally giving up on finishing your reading. “Lottie's favorite color is Heliotrope.”

“What's the difference?” Nat asks wryly, holding the toothbrush up to the light to examine the color. 

You shrug. “Fuck if I know.”

“And the clothes in the closet? Those just happen to be yours too?” 

You close the textbook with a soft thud as you lean forward and rest your head on your hand. “Something you want to talk about, Natty?” You tease. 

The grin on your face slowly fades at the unreadable look on Nat's face. You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to address it before saying “She can stay over less if it's bothering you, Nat. We can start staying at her place more.”

“No, no,” Nat says quickly, almost a little panicked. “That's not it, exactly. I just…” She trails off. She looks a little frustrated as she buries her head in her hands with a loud sigh.  “I dunno it’s kind of lame, I guess.”

“Nat,” You say softly.

She pulls her hands away as she looks at you, hair messy from where her hands were touching it. “Don’t you and Lottie think it’s like… super lame that I’m here all the time? Three’s a crowd and all that?”

“Hey,” You say soothingly, reaching forward to grab Nat’s hand. You eye the toothbrush that Nat’s dropped on the table at some point, making a note to buy Lottie a new one. What Lottie doesn’t know won’t hurt her. “You're my best friend, Nat. I’ll always want you here.”

“What about-”

“Lottie does too,” You interrupt, giving her hand a firm squeeze. “I know she does. Lottie’s not shy, remember? You’d know if she didn’t like you.” Nat nods slowly as she considers what you said. 

“Besides, if I had a problem about anything it would be you spooning my girlfriend every night,” You tease. Nat gives you a weak glare.

“Shut the fuck up,” She mutters, voice tinged with embarrassment. “It’s cold.” You give her an amused look, not even dignifying that with a response.

Her eyes slowly fall onto your clasped hands. You watch curiously as a blush slowly appears on Nat’s face. She pulls her hand away suddenly, clearing her throat awkwardly.

“Good talk,” She mutters as she stands up and walks off. You can’t help but laugh. Nat’s allergy to emotional conversations was well-documented at this point.

“Love you too!” You call out, hearing Nat make a vague noise in response.

…

“Y/N?” Nat calls out as she pops her head into the doorway. You clear your throat awkwardly as you peek your head around the shower curtain.

“Yeah?” You shiver at the rush of cold air that greets you, already mourning the loss of warm water.

“Have you seen my hoodie? The Yellowjackets one?” She asks, looking a little frustrated.

You pause. “I… I can’t say that I’ve seen it in a while,” You say guiltily, trying not to look at the pile of clothes you’ve left on the floor. Nat’s eyes narrow immediately, knowing you well enough to tell when you’re lying.

“Is that right?”

You nod, feigning the most innocent look you can.

“So it’s not going to be in your hamper?” Nat asks dryly.

You grin smugly as you shake your head. Nope, definitely won't be there. You think. Nat seems surprised at your sudden confidence, leaning against the door with her arms crossed as she considers the situation. You think you’d almost get away with it if it wasn’t for the sudden giggle behind you.

You stiffen immediately as you glance back to give Lottie a dirty look. She sticks her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout in an attempt to look cute as she steps closer, but the immediate change in her expression as she gets hit with a face full of water from the shower head she’s on eye level with does little to further her agenda. You snicker quietly as you turn back to face a shocked-looking Nat. 

“Has– has Lottie been there the entire time?” She asks in disbelief. You shake your head innocently.

“Lottie? Why would Lottie be here?” This time when Lottie giggles you can’t deny your urge to join, making Nat sigh in exasperation. Lottie wraps her arms around your stomach as she presses up against your back.

“Water’s going to get cold,” Lottie complains in your ear, pressing a kiss against your neck. You and Nat both agree without words to not acknowledge the way the top of Lottie’s head sticks out above yours. Nat finally glances down at the floor in an effort to hide her embarrassment, her cheeks flushed red at the thought of what she’s interrupted when she finds her hoodie lying amongst your and Lottie’s discarded clothes. Nat scoffs as she steps forward and snatches the hoodie out of the pile, turning around and stomping out of the room.

You share a wide-eyed look with an amused Lottie who seems overjoyed to have you to herself again. Just as you're about to turn around to face her you can hear the sound of Nat’s thudding footsteps as she walks back in. Nat, somehow even more flushed than before, tosses your bra back into the pile of clothes on the floor. “It was– it was– hoodie. In the hoodie,” She sputters, practically running out of the room in her haste to leave.

…

Going to a planetarium wasn't exactly your idea of a good time, but the tickets were free and you were broke. Besides, you knew Lottie would love that shit and you were right as always. Admittedly you had a different idea in mind upon realizing you were the only ones in the theater, but Lottie was far too happy watching the constellations appear. She'd even made a little game of making you guess them, but you think she mostly just enjoys knowing things you don't. 

“And that one?” Lottie asks fondly. You eye it critically, trying to see it abstractly but failing hard. 

“A branch?” You offer helplessly. Lottie's face lights up as she giggles, burying her head in your neck to muffle it. She pulls her head back, still shaking with silent laughter to look at you. Her hair is messy and her forehead is red from where she was pressing it against your shoulder.

“A branch?” She asks, pressing a hand against her mouth as she tries not to lose it.

“Yes! Look at it, Lottie. There’s the stick,” You defend amusedly, pointing at the screen. “And then it branches off. Therefore, branch.”

“That’s Taurus,” She says quietly, a smile splitting her face. “The bull.”

“That’s bull!” You mutter, sending Lottie into another round of laughter. “That’s more ridiculous than the stick.”

“You’ve got to look at it-”

“Abstractly, I know,” You quote wryly. You’ve been losing this battle for the better part of an hour. “Where’s Nat when you need her? She’d see the branch too.”

“Nat thinks the curtains are just green,” Lottie points out. “Not sure if you want her on your side.” You scoff, going to defend her before slowly relaxing back against your seat.

“Yeah,” You breathe out, defeated. Lottie grins smugly, squeezing your hand affectionately as she revels in her victory. She leans her head against your shoulder as the slide show moves on– you understand why the tickets were free now– happy to be here together even if you feel like something is missing.

“Is it weird that I wish Nat was here?” Lottie asks quietly after a few minutes. You lean your head on top of hers as you consider it. Your first instinct is to be offended: your company isn’t enough to entertain your girlfriend? But after you move past your initial hurt you strangely find yourself agreeing with her. You kind of wish Nat was here too. It was kind of strange to realize it, given that Lottie was the only person you’ve hung out with without wishing Nat was also there. Nat’s been your best friend just about as long as you can remember, but you do think that things have been different lately.

You sigh, giving Lottie an embarrassed smile as you say, “I tried to invite her.”

Lottie giggles quietly, giving you that secret little smile she saves just for you. “Mmm. And how'd that go?”

“She laughed in my face, ” You admit with a shrug. You knew better than anyone that this wasn't really Nat's scene– it wasn't really yours either– but you'd still been a little sad when she declined. 

“Sounds like Nat,” Lottie comments, letting the moment go as she turns back to the screen. “And that one?” You groan.

…

You and Lottie laugh quietly at each other as you stumble into the doorway, not wanting to separate long enough to walk properly into the door. Lottie nearly takes the both of you down as her foot catches on the doorframe, sending both of you careening into the room. You curse quietly under your breath as your back hits the side table, Lottie bumping into you and further pressing you into the corner currently digging into you. Lottie quietly laughs her way through an apology, hands running up the back of your jacket as she checks for ‘damage’.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lottie murmurs, not looking at all sorry. She slips her hands up the back of your shirt, making you jump as her cold fingertips make contact with your bare skin. You gently tug at the neckline of her shirt as she leans down to kiss you, your hand sliding up to cup the back of her neck. 

She pulls back with a gasp as your fingers tighten in her hair, her fingers flexing against your back as she tilts her head back to lessen the sting. You chuckle at the slight flush on her face as you lean up to attach your lips to her neck. She makes a pleased noise at the action, pulling you flush against her as she tilts her head back further. 

You're overcome with fondness as she rubs circles on your back with her thumb as you kiss your way across her neck. She lets out a loud moan as your teeth come into play, nipping gently at her neck. “Y/N,” She murmurs suddenly, pulling away with a guilty look on her face. “Is Nat asleep?”

“What? No,” You say dismissively, trying to move back to Lottie's neck. Lottie takes a step back with an amused look on her face as she looks down at you. 

“Where is she then?” She asks, grinning as if she's caught you in a lie. 

“It's Friday,” You remind her. “Nat's working tonight.”

Oh, She mouths, looking surprised. She gets over it quickly as her face lights up. She grabs your hand and laces your fingers together as she drags you off to your bed, pointedly ignoring your laughter as you eagerly follow behind her. 

You wrinkle your nose at the smell of Lottie's cigarette as you bury your face further in her chest in the hopes of escaping it. Lottie strokes your hair with her free hand with a murmured sorry as she laughs out clouds of smoke. You'd never really gotten the taste for them yourself, too bitter and chemically to ever hold your attention, but you couldn't help the nostalgic feeling that came over you whenever that acrid smell filled the air. 

Suddenly you were 13 again, coughing your way through the pack of cigarettes Nat had nicked from her dad. You hadn’t been the most enthusiastic about the idea to start with, but you’d been goaded into many things at the sight of Nat’s crooked grin. Nat had always seemed so cool, larger than life even, ever since you were kids. You hadn’t– and still haven’t– ever seen a kid as intimidating as Nat seemed back then. Sometimes you think you’d do anything she asked of you as long as she watched you with that proud grin of hers afterward; When you're being honest with yourself you know that you would.

You got so sick afterward that you've never touched another one since, but Nat was never able to kick the habit. You'd spent many a cold winter day leaning up against a brick wall trying to pull your jacket impossibly closer as you talked with Nat as she smoked. You lived for those quiet moments shared only between the two of you. You’ve always been the most important person in Nat’s life, you’ve never doubted that, but something about the sanctity of that space has always made you feel important. You’re never more honest with each other than you are then, as if the clouds of smoke have brought you somewhere else entirely.

You'd almost laughed the first time you watched Lottie light up, the air filled with the achingly familiar feeling of home. It was almost funny: the smell had always been a comforting reminder of Nat– a way to bring her with you no matter where you went– so of course Lottie would be a smoker too. It felt like fate, sitting on Lottie Matthew’s porch as she lit up the same cheap brand that Nat smoked. You suspected Lottie probably stole them, but you never cared enough to ask. You'd let them have their secrets, they always came to you when they were ready. 

You were startled out of your thoughts by the sound of the door opening, you and Lottie sharing a panicked look as you both stumbled your way out of bed to pull your clothes back on. “Guys?” Nat calls out cautiously as she softly shuts the door, clearly unsure if you're awake. 

“Yeah?” You call out, trying to sound nonchalant. You quickly pull the rest of your clothes on as you join Nat in the kitchen. Your face lights up at the sight of the brown bags on the table. 

“You got dinner this late?” You ask happily. Lottie presses a kiss against your head as she slips past you to the table. You and Nat share an amused look as Lottie finds her food and digs right in, happily ignoring the rest of you as she eats. 

“Hungry, Lot?” Nat asks wryly as she slips into the seat across from her. Lottie shrugs, a hint of a smile on her face. 

“Long day. Used a lot of energy, you know?” She glances over at you when she says it and you pointedly clear your throat as you slide into the chair next to her. Nat glances back and forth between the two of you suspiciously but ultimately decides to let it go. 

You end up talking long into the night, so tired by the time you all finally stumble into bed that you can barely keep your eyes open. Whether it was by chance or conscious choice you were never quite sure, but as you collapse into bed you fall with Nat in the middle. She seems a little unsure as the two of you cuddle up to her, cheeks flushed and expression unreadable, but makes no move to stop you. If you had to pick a moment that the change in your relationship truly cemented, this was definitely it: head resting on Nat's chest as you listened to the soft thumping of her heart. 

…

You stare at Lottie open-mouthed as you try to take the situation in. “So I’m not hearing a no,” Lottie says, trying to seem nonchalant but failing as her voice shakes with nerves. She takes a slow slip from her drink– which you absentmindedly notice looks a lot like the cups from work– as she watches your expression closely. You sputter uselessly for a moment before you finally manage to get your mouth to work correctly.

“You want to date Nat?” You ask, the hurt clearly creeping into your voice. Lottie’s eyes go wide as she chokes on her drink in shock, holding one finger out to tell you to wait as she coughs out the water she swallowed wrong. Normally you’d be nearly keeled over laughing at her, but you’re so upset that it doesn’t even seem that funny. 

“No, no,” She chokes out in a panic, shaking her head frantically. “Well, yes,” Lottie says after a moment of consideration. “But like you and Nat.” She makes a vague gesture with her hands as she tries to signify all three of you together, but can’t seem to find a configuration for it and ends up dropping her hands awkwardly into her lap.

You feel all the tension in your body drain out as you slump back in your seat. You bury your face into your hands and groan, slowly dragging them down to fall limply on the table. “You couldn’t have found a better way to word that?” You ask, voice tinged with a slight irritation. Lottie shrugs apologetically, blowing you a kiss in lieu of an actual apology. With a roll of your eyes you clarify, “So you want to date both of us? Like a throuple or something?”

Lottie nods, crossing the kitchen to prop herself up on the table as she sits on the edge of it. You sigh, running your hands up Lottie’s thighs as you wrap your arms around her back. You bury your head into her stomach with a muffled sigh, nuzzling your face further against her as she starts running her fingers through your hair. “Is it really a surprise to you? I thought that you– that you felt it too. Don’t you?” She asks guiltily, a tinge of desperation entering her voice the longer she speaks. The hand she’s got resting against your shoulder clenches tightly around the neckline of your shirt as if she’s afraid you’ll leave her here if she gives you the chance.

“I've never thought about her like that,” You say slowly, as if trying to convince more than just Lottie.

Lottie sighs, fingers soothingly massaging your scalp. “You can lie to me, but don't lie to yourself,” She says softly, gently pulling your head away so she can look at you while she speaks. 

“She's… She's my Nat,” You say helplessly as you look up at her. 

Lottie nods as she cups the side of your face. “I know, Y/N,” She murmurs. She gently strokes the side of your face with her thumb as she adds, “What are you so afraid of?”

“I don't want things to change,” You admit, eyes tearing up as your vision blurs. “What if… What if it's different? What if she doesn't want–”

“What if she does, though? What if she wants it too and is too afraid to ask. Wouldn't you, if you were Nat?” Lottie interrupts, wiping your tears away with her thumb. 

“Do you really think so?” You ask hesitantly. 

“I think it's more difficult for you and Nat to see because your relationship has always blurred those lines,” She says. Your eyes widen as you quickly try to deny it but she holds a finger up to your lips. 

“I'm not saying either of you did anything wrong. I just think you've been so close for so long that you don't realize that it isn't a normal friendship,” Lottie continues, looking a little embarrassed as she adds “I was pretty jealous of your friendship before we started dating.”

You lean back against your chair, honestly stumped as you think about the implications of what she's said. Have you and Nat always been like this? “I know you were jealous when I kissed Nat at the party, but–” You start. 

“It's not just about the party,” Lottie says wryly. She's got that expression on her face that you've seen teachers use when they're talking to small children. You try not to be too offended over it. “The two of you have a way of making everyone around you seem like they don't exist. Like they don't matter as long as the two of you have each other.” Your face softens at the admission, squeezing gently at her hips. 

She smiles as she shakes her head. “You've never made me feel like that, though. Not since the party. That's why I know that Nat feels the same. You'd never be able to look past each other if she didn't.”

“Besides,” She adds with a smug grin.” I've seen the way she looks at us when you're not looking.“ 

Your eyes widen in glee. “She…” You trail off expectantly. Lottie shakes her head in exasperation. 

“She was getting more than a glance in that shower. You really didn't notice?” Lottie asks. You pause. Now that you think about it, she was getting quite an eyeful. 

The more you know. 

“So you're 100% sure that–”

“Y/N!” Lottie groans, burying her head in her hands. 

…

Nat groans in irritation as she looks over at you. “Stop doing that shit,” She accuses.

You wonder idly if you always walk this loud or if it’s your own nerves that make every step feel like it’s echoing down the street as you walk home. You think it’s probably the nerves, or at least you certainly hope it is. You glance anxiously down at your shoes as you walk just in case, wondering if Nat’s hearing it too. No, that was stupid. Cut it out. You think, shaking your head as if to clear it from your mind.

You almost want to back out of the promise you’ve made, knowing that you’ve already made enough of a fool of yourself tonight. It’s not your fault that the idea of confessing you and your girlfriend’s attraction to your best friend was driving you up the walls. Sitting on that knowledge would psych anyone out, right?

God, why did you let Lottie talk you into asking Nat about it yourself? You knew damn well that Nat wouldn’t react well if it was the both of you– she tended to strike out if she felt like she was backed into a corner, after all– but you desperately wanted Lottie’s support right now. You don’t know why you're so nervous, it’s only Nat. But that seems to be the crux of the issue: it’s Nat. 

You can’t remember the last time you’ve ever been nervous about telling her anything, and you're absolutely falling apart in the process. You know that she must know that something going on, how could she not; Nat’s always known you better than you know yourself. It’s one of the things you love most about her, the shared ability to speak without ever saying a word. 

You clear your throat awkwardly, purposely avoiding eye contact as you look over at her. You're almost thankful for the darkness as you can’t quite make out her expression, knowing that it means it’s hiding the blush you know must be present on your own face. You feel an intense flash of guilt you fear at the uncertainty on her face. You knew she had to have been picking up on your weird mood all night, but you never wanted to make her feel bad about it. Nat tugs anxiously at the sleeves of her jacket, pulling it tighter around her as if to better shield herself from the world. Nat’s always done that when something makes her feel small and insignificant. 

Fuck.

“What’s up?” You ask hesitantly. Nat stops in her tracks, watching you carefully as you stop a half-second later.

“What’s up?” She asks pointedly. “You dropped enough glasses tonight that you probably lost more than you made and now you’re doing whatever the fuck this is!”

The first thing you notice is how frustrated she sounds, and you can’t help but shrink slightly under her gaze. She’s glaring at you and you can suddenly understand why people used to jump out of her way in high school. You’ve never had that look directed at you before so it takes you a second to come to terms with it, which is the only reason it takes you so long to notice. She looks hurt. Her jaw trembles with it like she’s doing everything she can not to cry.

“I’ve… Just got some things going on, is all,” You mutter, flashing her a weak smile.

“I know that, Y/N,” Nat says with a scoff. “What I don’t know is when we stopped telling each other things.”

“Nat, I–”

“I’m not done speaking,” She interrupts. You nod solemnly. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how fucking weird you’ve been lately. You and Lottie sharing all those little looks when you think I can’t see them.”

“Yeah, that’s right!” Nat adds as your eyes widen in surprise. “I’m not fucking stupid, Y/N.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Nat,” You say gently. “I… I guess I’ll just go out and say it, yeah?” Nat nods stiffly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. You’re gracious enough to pretend that she isn’t crying, knowing that she wouldn’t appreciate being called out on it when she’s feeling this vulnerable.

“Okay,” You murmur slowly, tapping your fingers anxiously against your thighs as you try to hype yourself up. Nat smiles fondly at the gesture despite herself, glancing away so that you can’t see it just a second too late. It’s the last push you need to gather your courage together as you blurt out “Lottie and I have a crush on you.”

“What? Slow down. I didn’t catch any of that shit.”

You groan. Again? “Lottie and I… have a crush on you.” Nat makes a surprised noise, anxious hands falling limply at her sides.

“Like… Both of you? At the same time?” Nat asks aloud, clearly just voicing her thoughts. 

You watch nervously as her mind races, scuffing your shoe against the ground as you try to look literally anywhere else. She hasn’t run screaming all the way home, so it’s already going better than you feared it might. You hate when Lottie’s right: she’s always so smug about it later.

Nat slowly starts walking, still deep in thought, and you quickly speed up to fall into step next to her. You try to let her have her space to think it over, but you can't help but glance over at her every few seconds to see what she's thinking. The two of you are completely silent the rest of the walk home, and now you really do think Nat can hear your footsteps. There's certainly not anything else to distract from it. 

You curse silently to yourself, wishing you'd stuck with your initial urge to keep it to yourself. What if–

“You can say no,” You offer suddenly, the deep silence feeling like daggers piercing your skin the longer it lasts. You climb the stairs behind her as you make your way up the stairwell to your apartment. That in itself felt strange given that you'd always walked side-by-side. You figure that it could've been worse. Had the elevator been working, a first in the six months you lived for, you would've been stuck in a box with her. Small mercies. 

“What– What am I even saying no to?” Nat asks quietly as she wrings her hands. 

“Going out with us. Being our girlfriend,” You rush out, deciding it's probably beneficial to be as blunt as possible with Nat. You can tell from her sudden exhale that she appreciates it and you relax in kind. Her hands finally relax as she goes digging in her pockets for her keys, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. 

You watch her every movement carefully as you walk inside, leaning against the arm of the couch as she steps in behind you.”Can I think about it?” She asks. You nod quickly, a little too quickly you think given by the sudden twinge of pain in your neck following the action. 

“Yeah! Take all the time you need, or whatever. I'll just be here,” You trail off awkwardly as you look toward the couch. You should probably sleep on the couch, right? 

“You're not sleeping on the couch,” Nat says wryly, as if she's read your mind. You startle slightly as you whirl your head around to face her. 

“Don't fucking make things weird, idiot,” She mutters, rolling her eyes. Nat steps past you to walk towards the bedroom, but not before taking the chance to push you over the arm of the couch you've been sitting on. You land on the cushion with a soft thud as you’re left staring up at the ceiling, no worse for wear as your legs hang uncomfortably over the arm. You grumble at the sound of her laughter as her footsteps sound down the hall. 

…

You wouldn’t say the next few days were awkward, but only because Lottie made you promise not to say anything about it. Many times over the last few days you’ve caught Nat looking at you or Lottie only for her to quickly look away the second she realizes that she’s been caught. You weren’t sure whether those interactions should leave you feeling hopeful or not, as they often left you feeling quite glum, but Lottie kept insisting that “no news is good news.” 

You’ve often found Lottie’s moods to be quite infectious in the past– no one was having a good day if Lottie wasn’t– but you’ve found yourself to be curiously immune this time around. You tried not to let Nat catch you moping around the apartment, not wanting to make her feel guilty, but the more time that passed the more you began to regret speaking up in the first place. 

You’re lamenting this once again to a long-suffering Lottie who idly traces circles across your stomach as you lie on the couch with your head in her lap. “You’ve just got to give her time,” Lottie murmurs knowingly. She’s probably said this about a dozen times by now, and you’d normally get annoyed at receiving the same response every time if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve lodged the same complaints just about as many times. Your girl had the patience of a saint, but even she had to be getting a little annoyed with you by now. You feel a little guilty at the thought, especially knowing that Lottie would never say anything about it. 

It’s been so tense with everything going on with Nat lately, and the only person you really wanted to talk about it with was unavailable for obvious reasons. You’re left with a strange sense of loneliness, one that you haven’t been familiar with since you were a child. You thought you’d long forgotten what the dreadful years before Nat had moved into town were like, but you’ve found yourself stuck back in them just as easily as you had left them behind.

It made you ache something fierce as it forced you to think about how lonely Lottie must have been growing up. You wouldn’t know it from talking with her, but sometimes she gets this look in her eyes when she thinks no one is watching her. It’s only a pale reflection of the look you saw so many times on her face as a child, but it still pulls at your heartstrings. Just the thought of that resigned look on her face and dull eyes as she swung in silence during recess has you tearing up. You wish so badly sometimes that you could take it from her, that you could go back in time and push two desperately lonely children together. Still, the thought that always comes to mind is whether it would mean never meeting Nat. You’re not sure you could ever trade one for the other.

You force yourself out of your gloomy thoughts to give Lottie an apologetic look as you reach a hand up to cup her face. Lottie closes her eyes as she nuzzles into your hand, pressing her cold face against the warmth of your palm. Her expression is relaxed and open as she reclines against you, stunning even with her cheek smushed unflatteringly against your palm. She remains motionless save for the rise and fall of her chest with every breath. 

Her stillness reminds you suddenly of old statues of goddesses, untouched and immortal; The knowledge they’re made of cold marble contradicted by the strange feeling that they’d be soft if only you reached out and touched them. But she’s so much more than a mere monument: she's flesh and blood, kindness and warmth. She's filled with an endless curiosity about the world that leaves you with an awe bordering on reverence. She's a goddess in all but name, and there is no altar that you would not worship Lottie Matthews on.

As if sensing your gaze she opens her eyes to give you a toothy smile, the edge of her pointed canines peeking out just enough to make you smile in turn. You silently mourn the loss as Lottie moves her head to watch the door a moment before it suddenly swings open. Nat steps inside slowly and she looks around, seemingly feeling an equal measure of surprise and relief to see the two of you relaxing on the couch. 

“Hey,” Nat says awkwardly, a little unsure. “Could we… Could we talk about that thing you brought up the other night?” 

You glance up at Lottie who gives you a reassuring smile as she slips her hand back out from beneath your shirt. You sit up and scoot to the other side of the couch, purposely leaving Nat the seat in the middle. Nat eyes it anxiously before gathering her courage and plopping down on the seat between you. You cross your legs as you turn to face her, leaning back against the arm of the couch. Nat glances back and forth between you as if she can’t decide where to look. Lottie snickers at Nat’s indecisiveness, ironically helping her make the decision as she turns to glare at her. Lottie just grins in response, winking at you over Nat’s shoulder. Nat groans as she relaxes back on the couch, head thrown back lazily as she stares up at the ceiling.

“I’ve been thinking–” Nat starts.

“Oh no, did you hurt anything?” You interrupt, earning yourself a quick flick to your arm. You hiss at the sudden sting, giving Nat a weak glare that she shakes off easily as she continues.

“I thought it would be different when you and Lottie started dating. Most people have less time for their best friend when they get a girlfriend, y’know?” Nat exhales slowly, turning her head to face you. “Kept waiting for it to change. For you to ditch me a few times to hang out with Lottie fucking Matthews instead. But it just never happened.”

“Nat, there’s always going to be a place for you in my life. You know that, don’t you?” You hold out your hand and she slowly reaches forward to lace your fingers together. She’s got a look on her face that you’ve never seen before as she looks down at your joined hands. She squeezes your hand before turning to look at Lottie.

“And you…” Nat trails off.

“And me,” Lottie says with a perfectly feigned smile. Lottie always hides her nervousness in her hands, and you can see the way she idly picks at the skin around her manicured nails.

“You’re not at all what I thought you were, you know that?” Nat asks. Lottie looks surprised, but her smile suddenly turns genuine as a hint of a flush rises to her cheeks. “We spent nearly four years on that team and never spoke, but still I thought I knew exactly who you were: You walked around in those expensive clothes you probably bought with Daddy’s money, to store in your walk-in closet. And then…” 

Nat stops to laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “I found out you fucking stole them. From TJ Maxx of all places.”

“They have good clothes,” Lottie says unrepentantly. “You’re… You’re not who I thought you were either.”

Nat’s smile fades a bit as she asks, “Not as big of a burnout as you thought, huh?”

“No,” Lottie laughs, “I used to think you were cool, you fucking loser.”

Nat scoffs, looking back at you to playfully ask, “Are you going to let her talk to me like this?”

You shrug. “As if I could stop her. She’s got a mind of her own.”

“She can hear you,” Lottie says dryly. You hold your hands up placatingly, dragging Nat’s hand up with yours. Lottie hums in acceptance, but you have a feeling she’s going to bring it back up when you least expect it.

“Got a little off track, but uh…” Nat says, tentatively holding her free hand out for Lottie. “I wouldn’t mind dating you. Both of you, obviously.” Lottie holds her hand up to Nat’s as she compares the size of their hands, grinning smugly before she laces their hands together. 

“We should probably talk about this more,” You acknowledge, sharing a look of understanding over Nat’s shoulder with Lottie.

“Definitely,” Lottie breathes out, as she leans in toward Nat. 

Nat’s eyes are blown wide as she glances back at you as if asking for permission. You just laugh, raising your free hand to gently turn Nat’s head towards Lottie as their lips meet. You're content watching as they move against each other, Lottie quickly getting lost in the hurricane that is Nat Scatorccio. You’d almost be sympathetic if you didn’t know she was giving it almost as good as she was giving it. Your normally composed girlfriend pulls away with a quiet gasp as she loses the battle against her need to breathe. Her cheeks are flushed, and she almost seems overwhelmed. Nat turns to you with just a hint of a smirk, and you surge forward with the knowledge that you no longer have to ignore the urge to kiss it away.

…

After a few hours of actual conversation, spread out among other activities, you find yourself lying across your bed next to Nat. You’ve been watching Nat try to guess the constellations Lottie’s been tracing across her bare back for the last ten minutes, each guess more pitiful than the last. You think she’s just making them up at this point. Judging by the look of amusement on Lottie’s face, you figure that she’s definitely clocked on to that long before you did.

You stretch out lazily as you lean closer to steal a quick kiss from Nat. She smiles dreamily at you as if it still seems too good to be true. You can’t help but return the look, snuggling impossibly closer to her. “Don’t distract her,” Lottie whines playfully. Nat groans as she buries her head into the pillow.

“This is impossible,” She complains, voice muffled by the pillow. Nat sighs. “Orion?”

“Orion?” You ask in disbelief.

“I don’t know any other constellations,” Nat mumbles.

“You’d know more if you didn’t skip out on going to the planetarium,” Lottie comments wryly. You and Nat share a look as she feigns a fearful shudder. You bite lightly at her shoulder in response, laughing at the surprised yelp it earns you.

[slashthrashandcrash]

I've been looking at the slasher x final girl oc's (and I love all of them) I was wondering if you'd give us anymore details about them, their first interactions and basically any thing interesting you'd be willing to tell us?

(I'm obsessing over your characters and knowing what little I do about them is making me mentally ill, especially the stranger, he reminds me of my favorite slasher (Jason) quite a bit)

I'm so glad you're enjoying them!! It's been a while since I've used 'em so it's been fun dusting them off from time to time--

Ashley and the Stranger are meant to be a homage to 80's horror in general, both the classics and the cheesy. The first time they met was during freshmen year at a frat party, although Stranger had seen her around campus a few times prior. She was drunk, but still friendly and wanted to get to know him a bit, even warning him to be careful because frat hazings these days were getting so ridiculous and she'd hate to see him get hurt.

By the next day after she sobered up, she completely forgot about the interaction and probably didn't even bother to get his name. The fact that all records of him being a student disappeared shortly afterwards didn't help, it was like he never existed to her after that night. But he never forgot their brief time together, that pretty little cheerleader who was the only one ever concerned for him...

Constantly dying and coming back as a vengeful killer only worsens his insanity with each "sequel", including his warped obsession for her. Each time, he's more hellbent on having Ashley, convinced they're meant to be for no other reason than she was nice to him for like 10 minutes years ago. He doesn't even register her fighting back or stabbing him or setting up traps, he's so blinded by his infatuation despite Ashley having no clue that they've met before.

Francine and Ripper are newer OCs, but they're a lot of fun because my girl is just so great to torment (:< I've braindumped so much about them to Blob--

They met while Francine was working on the scripts for that latest series of a semi-popular true crime podcast about the unsolved slayings of the Northshire Ripper (about 3-4 episodes). She started getting these emails from an anonymous account that was praising her writing and storytelling, so impressed with her level of research and details and how well she wove everything together, especially the observations she made on the murders. It was genuinely her first piece of fanmail, some actual recognition for all the hard work that goes into being a weekly ghostwriter that's often overlooked. She's thankful and beyond appreciative that someone would take the time to send her a thoughtful email, how sweet! (:

And of course, eventually the segment about the Ripper ends and the show moves on to cover another killer or disappearance or solved case, and Francine is back to researching at the whims of the cohosts. Her favorite fan starts emailing her again, asking why she's stopped writing about the Ripper when there's still so much more she could cover, more things she could go in depth on. These new cases are so overdone. The podcast hosts butcher her show notes half the time anyways (she posts the full version on their blog which is the only place she has a shred of credit listed), can't she just write more episodes for the Ripper instead? Please? No?

Well...good news, little lady! You know that serial killer you covered a while back, the one who was never caught, the one who seemingly disappeared after years of bloody terror? Wouldn't ya know it, he's finally come back after a near decade hiatus, creating human art pieces with newfound inspiration! Isn't that great, now there's so much new material Francine can work with to write show updates about him, especially while it's such a hot topic in the media. Now write. What's holding you back? Is this not good enough? Do you need more inspiration of your own? More personal? A demonstrative interview?

Anything to help out his favorite fellow creator~

[loemius]

im too like fuzzy from cough syrup to answer YOUR question-- Hephaestus is associated with copper specifically from my understanding, but I know a lot of modern helpol folks associate him with stuff like computers, the internet, metal in general. Hephaestus needs some love, whats some other things you associate him with, either upg or historically (I kinda like thinking of him as the god of disability aids like wheelchairs and prosthetics)

OH BOY I LOVE THIS QUESTION!!!!! i love hephaestus and i am so glad to spread some love for him. thank you for this fantastic question <333 historically speaking: -cranes! paper cranes are really fun and easy to make and would be an awesome votive for him. -donkeys! i think about this one a lot and his myth with dionysus where he'd been cast out of olympos and dionysus was the one who came after him and was able to convince him to return, and he rode back on a donkey: "One of the Greek legends is that Hephaistos, when he was born, was thrown down by Hera. In revenge he sent as a gift a golden chair with invisible fetters. When Hera sat down she was held fast, and Hephaistos refused to listen to any other of the gods save Dionysos--in him he reposed the fullest trust--and after making him drunk Dionysos brought him to heaven." [theoi.com, Pausanias 1.20.3] i mean just look at him on his steed. i love it. [also sourced from theoi.com]

-this is a weird one but chains. he's got a lot to do with chains, from the aforementioned binding of hera to the net of chains to capture ares and aphrodite in their affair to the binding of prometheus. i havent quite developed my thoughts on this yet, but i think it's very interesting. -hammers. he's often seen depicted with his hammer, and of course he helped zeus give birth to athena by using his hammer to split his head open. having experience in metalworking really made me appreciate this more, because there are SO many different kinds of hammers and using the wrong one can completely change the outcome of your work. also, its hard work! makes me think more about just how strong lord hephaestus is to make such grand works. -i think about him a lot with jewelry making, since he's got quite a few historically attested pieces of jewelry that he's made. upg: -i also associate him with mobility aids of all kinds. i also think about him and apollo working together to make medical technology, which means a lot to me as someone who's had health struggles. -i also associate him with computers too. i pray to him when my technology doesnt work LMAO -tobacco. i liked to smoke a cigarette with him before id go into the metal shop (dont smoke please its terrible for you) -the smell of metal. weird one but id go into the metal shop and take a sniff and be like :') ahhhhh hephaestus. i worked a lot in copper and bronze bc theyre soft and cheap metals, and the smell of copper on your hands after spending hours on the jewelers saw... like nothing else in this world. -soldering. when i learned to solder i would pray to him to help me do it well and get a good solder. it is harder than you think, especially when working in silver which can and WILL melt if you're not careful enough. it really made me appreciate how diligent and patient he must be. on a similar note, annealing metal also made me think of him. annealing is the process of heating and quenching metal to strength it once it gets too soft and you are quite literally just blasting it with a torch until it’s red hot. takes so much patience and carefulness. -open flame cooking. he's associated with fires after all and just. tossing something on the grill or over a campfire always makes me think of him. i also think of zeus when i grill things but i dont have a reason for that other than grilling is dad behavior and he is the ultimate dad. -LEGOS. any time i play with legos i am thinking about him. its the building aspect and the creativity. -really i think about him, athena, and apollo a lot when i'm creating, especially 3d works for hephaestus. i'm pursuing a bfa so i make a lot of things, and i think a lot about his skill and dedication to the craft when i make them.

thank you so so much for this ask!!! i loved answering this and would love to hear others thoughts on this <3 gods bless you with health and happiness!!!