#he may not be able to talk about what makes him a monster in his eyes but she can at least dispel the 'logic' that it's related to him
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I think my favourite part of Sloanshir when contrasted against Garashir is that Sloan and Garak are both liars made of secrets, but they are so polar opposite in the fundamental person underneath that veneer.
Sloan talks endlessly about the greater good, speaks of Section 31 and doing what's needed to protect the Federation, to protect the innocent ideals of men like Julian.
Garak practically revels in being able to portray himself to Julian as a monster, alluding to atrocities, talking about how he would sell everyone out for Cardassia, and how Julian needs to be more cynical.
But Garak shows so much kindness, compassion, genuine remorse through his actions, even when he denies it with his words. Garak likes that Julian is idealistic, likes it when Julian pushes back on Garak trying to argue for cold pragmatism and says "no, we're going to do the right thing even if I have to drag you into it by force".
Sloan very clearly wants to corrupt Julian while claiming he's just trying to get Julian to understand why Sloan is actually the Good Guy in everything. Talks about protecting Julian's idealism while leveraging it in situations that make Julian cry himself to sleep.
Sloan plays on making Julian feel guilty no matter what actions he takes. Garak looks to Julian to remind him that there is always a chance of forgiveness.
Garak puts Julian in situations where Julian is forced to pushed back, and Garak is happy when Julian refuses to fold on his ideals. It makes Garak love him even more.
Sloan treats Julian's commitment to Not Being A Monster as a childish fantasy that he needs to be broken of. He's disappointed and almost mocking when Julian refuses.
Honestly, I think what Sloan really wants is to be the Tain to Julians' Garak. He wants Julian to have a complex, unhealthy attachment that allows him to push Julian into doing terrible things. He wants Julian to be loyal and broken and beholden to him.
Sloan thinks he can fulfil whatever Garak is for Julian, and fails to recognise that he is, instead, a mirror of the man who made Garaks life an unbearable nightmare.
Garak probably thinks to himself now and then how grateful he is that Sloan did not meet Julian sooner, when Julian might have been breakable after all.
Garak may not have been able to wrench himself away from Tain, but I do think that if Sloan had succeeded in becoming an equivalent for Julian, Garak would probably have worked out some of his personal trauma while getting rid of Sloan.
#stella talks#sloanshir#garashir#star trek#star trek ds9#trek meta#.i guess. this is verging on fanfic lol.#.i need to get my thoughts straight on that AU follow up concept.#.garak: “im going to corrupt you” garak: refuses to do that and is giddy with love when julian remains uncorrupted.#.sloan: “its good that you're so idealistic” sloan: actively frustrated and dissatisfied that julian refuses to be corrupted.#.i want to write garashir cuddles where they talk about this stuff.
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So, I like Horror Sans, and being a nerd, I've been thinking about him a lot during my recovery with brain damage. A lot of people treat his wounds like brain damage, giving him memory problems, chronic headaches/migraines, speaking difficulties, fugue states, just issues collecting his thoughts. All understandable and reasonable symptoms, but there's something about just what truly horrific, completely life altering, brain damage to such an extent can do to a person that hasn't been explored very much. Yes, he doesn’t technically have a brain, but considering someone with head trauma like him would be in a comatose like start for weeks to a month, we can choke up him taking that hit like he did and being able to walk and talk to that. Plus, we can take inspiration from real injury and science and have wiggle room for it to not be 100% accurate. Anyway-
This is Phineas Gage.
It is one of the earliest extreme cases of brain damage where the patient survived while psychology as a scientific practice was getting on it's feet. If you've taken a psychology class, you've heard of him. He was a railroad worker foreman who had a rod blown through his skull in an accident, destroy most of his frontal lobe.
If you don’t know what the frontal lobe is it's where your ability to reason and make decisions, the ability to control your muscles voluntarily, and your ability to process knew information and recall old information. It's well known for being the part of your brain that inputs logic, the part gives you the ability to remember what happened last time you picked a fight with someone, so instead you choose to walk away despite how much your want to punch them for being a prick.
As I stated before, this man was a foreman, well known for keeping a level head, being responsible, and hard working. After the injury, that completely changed. Everyone agreed he was barely recognizable as himself. He was impulsive, prone to extreme mood swings, impatient, making massive plans only to almost immediately abandon them, and generally seemed to have no control over his desires or ability to distinguish between a want or a need.
Now, let's look at Horror.
I'd say it's safe to say his frontal lobe but also part of his parietal lobe would be utterly fucked. Your parietal lobe controls your ability to process sensory information (mostly touch) and to understand not only where you and your body is, but to process the world around you. You see a massive enough tent, some clowns running around, the right music, and your parietal lobe is what does the work to label that as a circus.
To have these two structures damaged, or the closest equivalent in a monster, would radically alter Sans' personality, his ability to move, his understanding of the context around him, and connect with others.
He'd become rather self centered on his own desires and beliefs, struggling to even have the patients let alone the want to give other people the time of day. His actions would be impulsive, made on his emotions in the present moment and with little concerns other than the immediate consequences. He'd be prone to loud outbursts, not just rage, but any other emotions like sadness or glee with little ability to realize how he's acting may be overblown or inappropriate. Not only could his ability to put his thoughts into words be a struggle, but his ability to say those words could be affected as well. He'd be very present focused, with pass relations or responsibility mattering little as he keeps marching to the beat of his own drum.
That is, if he could march. He'd not only struggle to know where his limbs are or what he's touching, but his sense of balance would be awful. He'd likely have a constant wobble, having to go slowly and potentially hold onto or lean on things if he wanted to move quickly. God forbid how much he'd bump into furniture or trip and struggle actually grab onto something to catch himself. It's entirely possible he'd have difficulty reading and writing or confusing his left and right regularly. He'd need more time to process a situation and could very easily misidentify what's actually going on could likely lead to him acting even more unpredictable as the world around him is so much more dangerous and he's struggling to fully understand what everyone is doing and trying to keep two steps ahead of everyone around him.
But here's the thing. The brain is also incredibly adaptable in ways your wouldn't believe. Phineas Gage slowly recovered over time. He died twelve years after the incident from epilepsy but over time he slowly regaining his social skills and general functionality. He picked up a job as a stage coach four years after the indecent even. He was never quite the same person he was before, but he wasn't doomed to be what he first was after the indecent.
Imagine what this kind of thing could mean for Sans. Not only would the betrayal cut deep enough and the world falling apart put him through trauma that would shred the soul, but people he trust literally damaged his ability to think logically and control his impulses. Of course he's going to lash out, focus on doing anything he can to survive with little respect for what anyone else thinks. Even forcing his brother to do things and refusing to listen to him unless given no other option. All while he thinks the biggest problems after the indecent is how much his head hurts, how his memory is shot, that it's harder or even down right painful to think, and how he's struggling to cling to his independence while never having the patience or resources to give himself the ability to heal. He doesn't even realize how much he's changed. If you point it out Sans would likely get defensive and aggressive, or brush it off as everyone underground being awful people out to eat each other alive.
But then he gets out to the surface. He gets stable food, a safe place to live. His brother is recovering and as the years pass his mind can finally start pulling itself together and healing, finally. Sans begins to regain his ability to think critically on his own actions and others, his emotional outburst and vindictive behavior start to wind down and fade. He's able to think and start sifting through all the shit he remembers.
The guilt of what he did, the people he hurt for no reason other than pettiness. The stupid decisions he made that hurt himself and/or Papyrus in the long run. All the hindsight he has now. Imagine how much he would bury those memories and thoughts. Justifying everything he could and insisting he had reasons, or that it's just how it was and that everyone was as awful and cruel he was. Or just accepting that what Undyne had done to him and the famine after had ruined him, broken and rotted all the good he had and left him vile and malicious. That he'll never have a chance to truly be who he was before.
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i want to headcanon the mtt having absolutely terrible hygiene and struggling to keep themselves clean (this MAY... just QUITE POSSIBLY.... only in the SLIGHTEST bit be projection) but i think it would be too gross and man EVEN I dont wanna think about that
also killer canonically smells good and i actually really LIKE that idea so oh shit there goes that idea out the window. horror and dust youre my only hope please let me make you smell bad for reasons you won't understand
#also i dont think i. just got a sense of dejavu wtf. anyways#i dont think im THAT bad at maintaining my hygiene..... like i dont bed rot for months which isn't good by any means#but if i havent reached that point of bad hygieneness then i dont think i should be talking about this topic#sure i may uhhh may struggle to brush my teeth and shower multiple times a week but like. ngl it's not that bad#i am NORMAL okay THIS IS NORMAL. people struggle with this stuff all the time everyday i dont need to be making a whole post on this topic#i wish that the capital i in this app looked different. because when i wanna emphasize I it just looks normal#i type like how i speak has it not become glaringly obvious yet. so it boggles and bothers me when i cant emphasize i like i can irl#the laundry piles in dusts room are probably unfathomably tall he just throws it all into one corner (HES JUST LIKE ME FR!!! I DO TJIS!!!!!)#all the water in horrortale has turned toxic and polluted and bad so horror's only option is to not shower or shower in dirty water#he chooses the former because what if that water has monster dust sprinkled in it. his paranoia wont let him shower in dust infused water#TRIGLYCERCULE GET YOUR FUCKING LIFE TOGETHER INSTEAD OF THINKING AND PROJECTING ONTO FICTIONAL CHARACTERS. SCHOOL STARTS IN 3 DAYS.#I KNOW I KNOW IM SORRY.... IM SORRY OKAY I KNOW!!! I KNOW THIS IS BAD!!! I WILL TRY!!!!!!#anyways back to projecting. do you think dust has sheets on his little matress bed#because the sheets will enevitably get dusty and then he's gonna have to lay on the dust of those he killed and thats a bad thought#sheets can fix the problem temporarily because he can just change them out and wash them#but also.... changing sheet hard.... take long time..... dust just want sleep.... rot away..... so no sheet on matress??? idk#dust might be able to make fun of horror and killer for having food issues but#killer gets to make fun of dust and horror for having hygiene issues#he's had his lows but he's never gotten THAT low 🤣🤣🤣🫵🫵🫵 LOSERS!!!!!#what does horror get to make fun of them for??? idk murder#killer might be able to keep himself clean but he cannot keep anything else around him clean with thet goddamn eye goop so HAH take that#me on my way to overshare with strangers on the internet. this isnt that bad compared to other stuff ive seen online actually#triglycercule can you just shut the fuck up and get back to posting about the mtt nobody CARES#alright..... limps away like a kicked and beated puppy...... like killer after getting abused by nightmare for the 56th time..........#advanced humor only utmv fans will get it#tricule rant#i said i wasnt gonna make the post but i did infact make the post. just in tags#me when i LIE#just offically reached 50 drafts where my medal. i should clear them out? alright shoot that guy
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You ever think about how Cole, a literal spirit of compassion, seems to care so much for Solas? Yes, he tries to connect with others and help them as well, but what they have is not the trust and affection he holds for Solas. Cole stands up for Solas on various occasions:
Vivienne: You should not encourage that thing. Cole: Solas is not a thing.
or
Cole: Solas doesn’t want to hurt people! He’s not that kind of wolf!
or
Cole: You didn’t do it to be right. You did it to save them. Inquisitor: Solas, what is he talking about? Solas: A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything. Cole: You weren’t wrong.
Or how about the fact that after Solas left, Cole went looking for him in the fade out of compassion, and Solas had to tell him to forget?
Cole's entire being is based around a single attribute: compassion. Because of this, he's drawn to a) people with pain for him to heal and b) people who are kind. He can sense that Solas has much hurt to heal, though Solas is able to conceal it from Cole in ways others cannot, but I think he also cares for Solas because he understands who he is at his core. He understands that despite what Solas has done or plans to do, he doesn't want to hurt people. He doesn't care about being right, he cares about helping. In truth, analyzing Cole and Solas's relationship is extremely revealing of who Solas really is. If the spirit of compassion who can read minds and emotions has so much affection for Solas and sees his motivations as coming from a place of goodness, that seems much more honest and true to me than someone making a judgment of him based outward factors.
The more I play inquisition, the more I use Cole as a moral compass. He may not understand the world, but one thing he understands is compassion, and every decision he makes is rooted in love for others. So if Cole cares for Solas and doesn't see him as a monster, then I believe that no matter what he ends up doing, this is proof that Solas is someone worth caring for. Someone with good within him.
#not another post starting with “you ever think about’ lol#solas#cole dragon age#dai meta#dragon age#dai#dragon age inquisition#datv#dragon age the veilguard#cole
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renaissance man (p. js)
Taking note of the strangers you see day to day isn’t something you’d normally do. The only reason today is different is because the guy who made small talk as he rang you up for your intimate items was the same guy who showed up catering for your family reunion. or the one where jay is a dildo salesman, a caterer, a self-titled mechanic, and also your ride home. he is not an expert in any of his jobs, but he sure is an expert in wit and well, other things.
minors dni!! | pls reblog to show your support!
WORDCOUNT― 14.6k
PAIRING― park jongseong x afab reader
CONTENT― fluffy comfort smut, strangers to lovers like immediately, you buy a monster sized dildo, blatant talking of masturbation and toys, smut, cliche blooming an attachment to someone after (1) fuckening.
!!ATTENTION!!― read this before? that’s because I run two blogs and like to re-vamp fics i’ve previously written for other groups! [@/ncteez is likely where you’ve read it from. THAT IS ME!!!]
smut tags under cut::
smut tags― it’s kind of fluffy im so sorry i just have feelings for him, average cock size jay!!!![i am not of this belief, i think his cock is fat and huge], he is very much a service top, making out, hand holding, caressing, grinding, finger fucking, titty worship, unprotected sex, sweet talking as a form of dirty talk, missionary bc i refuse to pretend he wouldn’t want that, back scratches (sexual)
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Never have you been put in the position to make small talk about the sex toys you place on a counter to purchase. Then again, you guess it’s part of the job description that most people ignore or aren’t privy to actually doing.
Never have you been informed of the wide variety of lubricants, additional toy-cleaners, or the bigger and smaller alternatives to your chosen toy. You don’t show discomfort though, because it’s not uncomfortable. Sex is normal, masturbation is more normal, and the man in front of you appears to be normal too.
“There’s twelve different color variants if you prefer something less fleshy.” The man says, standing at the counter with some sort of a permanent pout on his lips.
“I’m fine, if you could just ring me up now I can get out of your hair.” You respond, glancing at the time on your phone and wondering how you got stuck with the only employee who actually does his job here.
“Are you sure you don’t want any lubricant?” The man adds, gazing at the size of your toy and then looking you up and down as if you clearly wouldn’t be able to handle your chosen toy without help.
The man with no name tag appears to be blissfully unaware of his invasiveness with that question as you tilt your head with a raised brow. Shocked at the very question, it’s actually quite laughable that he’s so monotone with the offensive comment. You imagine he’s done this for so long that he must be a manager trying to get the day over with, going through the steps in a bored mood with little to no regard as to how he must sound to strangers buying their first or twentieth dildo.
With your assumption that he doesn’t exactly care about the level of wet your vagina is when you use this toy, you respond. “I think I know my body well enough and I already have lube, but thanks.”
He nods, not even sparing you much of a glance before giving you a total and bagging your item.
Now, despite Jay’s lack of interest toward the purchase of toys, he finds it comical that he’s grown numb to the very fact that he knows what everyone in this town’s kinks are after they step out of the shop’s door. Someone’s gotta do this job and keep those secrets…he likes to think he fits the bill perfectly.
Lively as he may be outside of this shop, each job comes with a personality and this one calls for one of disinterest in your product but interest in the sale. He’s not one to lie to himself though, many times a pretty girl has marched in and bought toys far bigger than any man and he does tend to let his mind wander about it from time to time. When he first started this job, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, he found it hard to navigate a single sale without a flush of tints crossing his cheeks and ears. Now, he’s become a veteran at keeping his dick locked in place if he were to feel some type of way about a purchase and the one purchasing.
Shy as he was when he started, it’s all lost now as he handles dicks and dongs, pocket pussies and anal plugs, even whips and chains.
Shy. That’s definitely a word and surprisingly one that can describe him when he’s not on schedule within these walls of alien dicks and lime flavored lube to match the grotesque green color. At his other job, because he works two, he takes the praise of being the charming yet timid man who shows up with pans of food for events.
The guests seem to love him and many times during weddings and company parties he has been offered phone numbers or asked for one simply because he appears to be that of a friendly face with a kind sense of being. Someone you’d wanna bring home to mom, some might say.
It’s a stark contrast of jobs, and somehow he’s managed to dodge knowing many of the people coming into his night job to shop for ways to fuck themselves. The rare time it had happened, he was thankful to have another person in the shop to ring them up. Keeping up with two jobs is hard, and keeping up with two personalities is even harder.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You hadn't thought of that guy from the sex shop even once until he showed his face at your family reunion.
He noticed you before you managed to realize it was him though. Stealing looks in your direction as you chat with little cousins and elder aunts and uncles, mostly to double check in his brain if you’re really the girl who showed up and nonchalantly bought the newest dildo in stock. The fleshy colored one with rotating beads and a g-spot stimulator button. You know, the really fucking huge one.
Upon meeting his eye again for the first time, he could tell it really is you, simply because of the way you furrow your brow as you recognize him.
Jay couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that eventually someone at an event would recognize him as their local sex-shop manager, he’s actually shocked it doesn’t happen more often. At least it’s you though, a woman who looks near his age and clearly has a very healthy relationship with her sexuality. So much so that you weren’t shy or nervous in buying the toy from him. Because it’s honestly pretty common to see someone nervous or uncomfortable while buying items far less telling than the one you bought.
His smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you before you look away from him and focus your attention back to your family and by the time he’s prepared the food and is standing aside to explain what ingredients the dishes have, you’re walking up with your empty plate and an awkward glance.
He follows you down the line of dishes, seemingly more interested in you than anyone else. You could argue it’s just an attempt to make you feel embarrassed, or perhaps even an attempt to ask you not to snitch on where else he works to make his money.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, a knowing look telling him that you’re already very aware of that ‘somewhere’ you know him from.
His pursed lips and snide hidden laugh at you is one thing, but the way he whispers to you over a pan of potato casserole is another.
“I think you know who I am.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back again with a flicker of a crooked grin.
You leave it at that, looking him in the eye curiously and for some reason, smiling back at the strange second encounter with a man who appears to have a name tag now.
“Thanks, Jay. See you around.”
Heading away from the tables of food and toward the table that contains all of your favorite cousins, you are immediately bombarded with a raised brow from one of them. Ah, nosy.
“What was that about?” One of them leans over to ask, glancing at the man who is still overseeing the table of food and maintaining perfect temperatures. She doesn’t quite catch the way Jay’s eyes flicker back to you, over and over again, repeatedly.
“Huh? He was just telling me what was in the potatoes.”
She takes your answer as truth without issue, and the conversation falls away and into something else. College life, job life, family life.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Okay so, you’re trying to hear yourself out here. Are you somehow curious and interested in speaking with Jay? Yeah. Do you know why? Also yes. For one, he just sold you a fucking interesting sex toy last weekend in the most uncomfortable way possible, and now he’s here at your family reunion to remind you of what you do in your apartment when you’re alone.
His personality seems different this time too. He wasn’t monotone, he was snide with you about knowing who you are. He probably thinks its funny that he ended up at your family reunion over any other event.
So yeah, maybe you find yourself going up to the table for seconds even though you’re no longer hungry. Maybe you definitely wait until no one else is at the table and he appears to be tidying up the space and wiping up spills before speaking to him again.
“Just how many jobs do you have?” You ask in a sarcastic tone when you reach him, the table between the two of you creating a comfortable distance to poke and prod.
He jumps only slightly at your presence because he didn’t notice you walking up. The brief break he’s taken from stealing glances so he could actually do his jobs appears to be the time you feel the need to finally approach. Still, he’s smiling again, looking at you up and down.
“Plenty. How much lube do you have left?” He answers before shooting back his own question and getting right to the point.
You freeze in shock at his question, reminding yourself that his monotone voice from the late dildo purchase is no more and he now comes across as vibrant and charming to you. You check him out for a moment, taking mental notes of what may not or may not be to like about him. You can’t tell if it’s good news or bad news that you’re not finding anything to raise any red flags.
He’s bold, confidence, charming, clearly has a decent work ethic–
“I can’t imagine you have much left, that thing was a fucking monster. We have tons in stock if you wanna–” He pauses to cover his mouth, forgetting that he’s supposed to be timid and gentle during his day job. He’s not supposed to be himself.
You find yourself laughing though, leaning over the table and holding out your empty plate. Mostly just to get in closer to him without alerting your family of a new future husband or something.
“Why are you so interested in my ‘fucking monster”’ dildos anyway?” You narrow your eyes.
He pauses, easing up at the way you’re just as cheeky and playful as he is, despite being surrounded by your family. It’s mildly inappropriate, but it’s making his shift go by quickly. You’re making his shift enjoyable today, so he continues.
“I think anyone would be interested, with all things considered.” He checks you out again with a brief pause, knowing the size of that dildo you bought by heart, and fully aware that it probably ripped you in half if you really managed to put that thing anywhere inside of you. “Correction, they should be worried.”
“You’re different from before,” you comment, both of you now blatantly staring down each other. “I like this version of you more.”
Something inside of him feels giddy at that. Not to be cliche but he wonders if this is what it’s like to instantly have a crush on someone. Again, he’s not one to lie to himself. You’re pretty and you appear to be confident. Confident enough to take time from your family reunion to have a discussion about your plastic cock intake anyway.
“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime then.” He puts a hand forward, inviting you to shake it but you simply stare it down instead.
“Yeah, maybe you will.” You smile, slapping his hand as if you’re low fiving him before swirling around and walking away thinking hard about the fact that…yeah, he might actually see you sooner than he thinks.
Honestly, maybe within the next day or two because he was kind of right to ask about how much lube you have left, but it’s not like you’d answer that truthfully if at all. You might be running out after just two uses. He was right again about it being a fucking monster, because well, yeah. Maybe you’ll pop in and shop for bulk lube instead of rejecting his up-sale this time.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Unfortunately for you upon the reunion coming to an end, you get into your car and of course it doesn’t start. You drop your head to the steering wheel in a sigh and annoyed grunt.
The last thing you need is your father driving you home because he will lecture you about your car and how it’s got to be some fault of your own for it to not start. And you know, yeah maybe it was your fault. Why were your lights turned on during a sunny Sunday afternoon? Fuck if you know. Why were they left on for the entire nine hours you’ve been here at your parent’s house? You refuse to answer your own question.
And just as you go to accept your defeat, preparing to head back inside and take the walk of shame ten minutes after saying your goodbyes, a savior appears.
That savior is none other than Jay, walking up with his stiff button down shirt partially unbuttoned, hair now disheveled as he must have ruffled it up after the day of work. He watched you from his catering van for just a few minutes before finally getting out to offer his expertise.
“The battery is dead.” He smiles, slapping both palms on your hood and leaning to look at you through the windshield.
“Smart man, can you un-dead my battery before my dad comes out?”
Jay shakes his head apologetically.
“I already checked the van for the cables, could be a write up on my part for not checking before leaving. We are supposed to have all sorts of shit to prevent breakdowns on a job. Not today though, apparently.” He scratches the back of his neck as he walks to your opened car door.
“If you can hang tight for like ten minutes I can swing by after dropping the van off.”
Your eyes plead with him. You’d prefer this, yes. If he’s willing to help, you’re willing to accept.
“You sure I’m not too out of the way for you to do that?”
He shakes his head nonchalantly, waving you off as he leans into your car to pull your keys out of the ignition. He smells like food, obviously he does, but there’s a scent of something else on him that’s far more attractive. The dull scent of cologne that matches him all too well.
“Don’t try to turn it on anymore if you don’t want your dad coming out.” He laughs. “I’m sure he would help you but if you’d rather I help you, I am more than happy to do it.”
He’s teasing. His little crush pushes him to want to help you, but he’s gonna play it off as casually as possible.
“I’ll hang out here. My dad would lecture the fuck out of me.”
Jay nods, backing away and heading back to his van to fulfill his offer.
On another note, you’re shocked that your father didn’t hear the commotion, and even more shocked that he didn’t step outside once since the reunion ended. He must have been tired, and you know him, he sleeps like a rock and probably already hit the sack without even cleaning up the yard.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Oh, it’s dead dead.” Jay looks at you apologetically, peeking his head out from the side of your hood and through your window.
“Define dead dead.” You comment, taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff.
“Like, you need a new battery. This one is done for.”
You sigh loudly, knowing that now you’ll have to go ask your parents for a ride home. Knowing that your dad is going to add more to his lectures with each day your car is sitting in this driveway. This is so fucking annoying. At least you work from home though, so it’s not like you’re gonna lose your job over this or anything.
Jay unhooks the cables and turns off his car, then stands there and watches you for a moment. You look frustrated and annoyed, and it’s very much like him to offer more help.
Of course it is.
“Would it be too forward to ask if you need a ride home?”
You look at him confused, tilting your head and studying his body language much like before. You’re not one to decline someone making your life a little bit easier, and he is interesting to talk to. You nod slowly, then pause.
“You’ve worked all day, don’t waste your off-time helping me out.”
“I’m already wasting my off time on you though, might as well let me drive you home too?”
You stare at him.
“Okay.”
The awkward silence sets in shortly after you seat yourself in his car. You fill that silence with small sarcastic comments about said car though, and soon it becomes easy to be in the space with him.
“Where did this sticker come from?” You ask, poking your finger into a sticker with its edges rolled from the summer heat, probably.
“Ex girlfriend, I couldn’t get it off without it leaving a residue so I’m just letting the sun do its job and melt it off.”
“Oh, harsh.” You laugh, wanting to prod further. “Why’d you break up?”
Jay pauses, you can tell by the way his foot lets up from the gas momentarily that he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. Then again, he’s said some weird shit to you too, so you figure it’s not an end-all question.
“Was that too forward to ask?”
“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting it,” He shakes his head with a small smile, nearly reaching his hand from the wheel to pat your leg in reassurance. He holds back, wondering why the fuck that urge felt so normal for him to do. “It’s been like a year, so I’m over it and stuff. She just thought I worked too much and didn’t spend enough time with her.”
“Ouch, even harsher.” You smile in reassurance to him, also feeling it normal to want to do that for some reason. “Her loss, I mean, discounted dildos and food? Huge loss.”
He laughs at your comments, briefly looking over at you once he stops at a red light. Your eyes are shining with life, with interest even. At that moment, he feels something between the two of you. Which is quite strange considering this is your first time officially meeting him outside of his working hours. He can’t help the way his face softens though, it happens against his will, honestly, it does.
“You’re kind of cute,” You blurt, breaking eye contact with him and shifting in your seat. “and fun to hang out with.”
“Hang out?” He laughs at you, eyes now adjusting back to the road and lowering his speed just to have a bit more time with you. “This is hardly a hang-out, but if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to check my schedule to see when I’m free next.”
You feel confidence raise up in your chest, bubbling to be free in the form of a question likely too bold to actually consider.
“You’re free right now…right?” You comment quietly, glancing at him.
“Hm?” He asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and feeling your eyes on him. He heard you, but he wouldn’t mind hearing you repeat it.
“I said, you’re free right now.” You repeat, this time with more confidence. “Would it be too forward to ask if –”
“Nothing is too forward to ask, I literally sold you a dildo.”
You pause in shock, all thoughts leaving your head.
“Damn, alright,” You laugh, feeling kind of warm inside at how his forwardness matches your own. “If you’re free right now, we could hang out right now.”
How lucky for both of you. He’s actually not catering tomorrow and only has to be at work at the good ol’ sex shop in the evening.
“Alright,” He nods, glancing over to you. “Kind of fucked up we are hanging out after I met your entire family and still haven’t gotten a name from you yet though, wouldn’t you think?”
Oh fuck, he’s right.
“I’m sure you heard the kids yelling it all day. Don’t be dramatic.”
He laughs, already in love with the idea of spending more time with you.
And you hear him echo your name, asking where it is that you’d like to go.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
If your parents were to ask why you’re walking through your apartment building with the caterer following behind you, you’d have no excuse. Then again, as an adult, you don’t think you need one. It’s strange despite how open and casual you are with making friends though, because you never just invite strangers to your place for friendship. At least, not without hanging out a few times first.
You guess it’s not super awkward because it’s true that he already knows things about you that your family doesn’t. Such as, the things you penetrate yourself with when you’re alone. It’s a major ice breaker, and something that makes the friendship with him come easy even after barely talking to the guy.
The few words you have shared have been easy and fun, so it’s only natural that if your instinct is to want to be around him a little longer, you’d invite him in right? You weren’t really expecting him to accept your answer to his question.
“Where to then?”
You thought for a moment when he asked that. You don’t go to clubs or bars anymore, most places would have been closing within the hour, and it’s not like you didn’t eat to peak fullness during the family reunion so having a late dinner with him was out of the question too. You answered him so easily, and he accepted in a way that seemed just as natural to him.
“We could just hang out at my place, I’ve got plenty of streaming services, a gaming system, and wine.”
“Sounds good.”
It was so easy to become friends with him, and now with him following you up to your apartment, the typical awkwardness that should come with this type of thing isn’t swarming your mind at all. He’s even making small talk about the building itself after parking in your parking spot.
“This building is way nicer than mine, you got a door code and everything just to get in.”
“Wasn’t always like this. Being a single woman in a city like this calls for safety measures though.”
A little box in his head checks out. He didn’t even have to ask if you’re single, because he already assumed you were with the way you so easily invited him over. And in all fairness, you’ve been trying to find a reason to slip in your relationship status to him.
By the time you get to your door with him, he’s polite when he walks in and takes off his shoes. Polite in the way he looks around and studies your space, even polite in the way he walks into the living room and invites himself onto your couch and grabs your remote.
“I was going to say make yourself comfortable but–”
“Well, would you prefer I sit on your floor?” He shoots back with a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Would you prefer I start digging through your cabinets for snacks? Would you prefer–”
“You’re so much more talkative when I’m not trying to buy something from you.” You comment with a laugh, dipping into the kitchen for two glasses and that cheap bottle of wine.
“Speaking of, do you actually use that thing and like it? I mean, I see some weird purchases but that specific one is super popular with the fetish groups.”
For the first time, you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You should have known that the sex toy would be a point of conversation, considering the first time you ever met was buying it.
“Yes, I use it. I’m surprised you find it shocking considering it’s literally your job to know what people like in terms of getting off.”
He smiles at that, because you’re damn right he knows. Most of the time he would prefer not to know, but he always did wonder if, on the off chance, he ended up hooking up with a customer he’d have some prior knowledge of how they like it based on toys alone.
“You know, normally people don’t buy toys on a Monday at nine in the morning.”
“I buy toys at nine in the morning on a Monday,” You chuckle, carrying the two glasses and wine into the living room and plopping down next to him. “Why does that matter? I’m sure you make your quotas even on the slow days considering how hard you were trying to up-sell me.”
He shrugs as he watches you pour him a glass.
“It’s easy to up-sell when you know people’s kinks after a few purchases. I do that to everyone just to gauge what they need so if they come back I can make more offers.”
“A true salesman.” You laugh with a pitied voice. “What would you say my kink is?”
He studies you, looking you up and down without shame and thinking hard about your single purchase.
“Well, considering that specific item is, again, usually looked at by a specific type of person or couple, I’d say–”
“Wrong.” You interrupt before he even tries to make a guess. “I don’t have a kink, I just have a really high sex drive.”
You take a sip at his silence of being beaten to the punch, and then he takes his own thoughtful sip.
“Okay then, What do you think my kink is?” He asks slyly, cup still against his lips as he sips again.
“Wha–” You narrow your eyes at him, trying not to stare at him for too long because goddamn is he handsome. “Hell if I know, you probably don’t even have sex after being in a hyper-sexualized space like that for hours on end.”
“Wrong.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away from you with another casual chuckle.
“Are you telling me you have a pocket pussy or like, a buttplug or something?”
“Three pocket pussies, actually.”
You don’t know why you’re shocked. For some reason his sex toys becoming the focus makes you feel more shy than your own being the focus.
“I bet you named them.”
“Pocket 1, Pocket 2, and Jessica.”
“Jessica?” You raise a brow despite the sarcastic banter, wondering if maybe that’s based on his ex girlfriend or something.
He nods in a matter-of-fact tone with a proud smile.
You feel comfortable around him, never having a friend who openly talks to you about these things without any type of awkwardness. It’s the fact that he’s a man too. Usually they think with their dicks and he seems to have no qualms in admitting that it’s something he may do from time to time too.
You imagine he needs this type of personality to work such a job though, being casual about sex can be so difficult for your average joe because for some reason, it is embarrassing. It’s hard to talk about even to sex-shop employees. You like to think he’s probably someone who makes others feel comfortable about their sexual habits though, because you feel comfortable.
“I’m lying by the way.” He cuts through your thoughts, “I only have two.”
You nod energetically with a laugh.
“Variety is good.” You continue, not mentioning the array of toys you have stashed away.
“Yeah, I think experimenting with different things is good. I only really liked the two I kept though, I guess.”
“And yet, you’re shocked about my single dildo purchase without knowing of my other items of interest? I could have just been trying something new too, y’know.”
Another sip of wine, and another glance away from him because you were looking a little too fondly at that little scar on his nose, the birth mark on his neck, the way his lips crease when he swallows his drink and– yeah, you definitely glance away.
“No one buys that as a first time experience.” He comments, tapping the cup against his lips and looking at you.
You’re a little stunned by him, never having met a man so open to speaking like this, with a woman he barely knows no less.
“Okay, enough about my dildo. I actually have a question about something you might have in stock but I’ve kind of been too embarrassed to ask until now.”
He nods, his personality shifting only slightly into that as the manager of the sex-shop.
“Oh? Embarrassed? Since when?” He jokes at first. “What is it then?”
“Do you guys have like,” you pause, unsure of why you’re even trying to ask. Again, it’s not like masturbation is embarrassing, nor is the purchasing of toys. Asking for a specific item is a bit too intimate to you though, seeing as how you usually just buy those things online. “Okay hear me out.”
“Tentacles? Furry buttplugs with tails attached? Bondage rope? Paddles?”
“No…” You pause at his spewing of different types of toys. “I know you have all of that.”
He pauses, studying the way you make yourself a bit smaller compared to just minutes before.
“Do you guys have sex dolls for women? You know, like, just a doll with a very normal dick?”
Jay fucking snorts. How mundane.
Unfortunately for you though, Nope.
“Nah, the owner tries to cater more towards men and fetish stuff. We’ve got fem tantaly dolls and all sorts of blow up dolls but he’s never brought in just like, a torso with a cock, if that’s what you’re asking.”
You shrug.
“Guess sticking it to the wall is all I can do for now then. But like,” You pause, realizing that you’re actually going into detail at this point, which might be a little uncomfortable for him? Maybe? “It’s really annoying to have it sticking to the floor, and you’re like, riding it and it just pops off and stabs your thigh slipping out mid-orgasm.”
He snorts again, that pretty smile you’ve seen time and time again echoing the most attractive laugh you think you’ve heard in a long time. This time, his smile doesn’t fade as the seconds pass, no. He’s unable to stop laughing at the image of whatever orgasm instilled the frustration in you to even mention that happening. He tries to stifle his laughter with the last sip of his wine before choking it down and pushing his glass at you for more.
“Noted,” He snorts, nodding his head and almost hiding his face from you. “I’ll tell the boss we need male sex dolls so the women don’t get dick-stabbed where they don’t need it mid orgasm.”
You glare.
“Wait, no, because it actually hurts.” You frown at him. “I just wish your shop catered a little more to women who just wanna ride a dick without the dangers of riding said dick.”
“Maybe you should slow down next time so the full force of your–” He pauses, realizing how sexual the image in his head is of you right now. “Um…” He trails off uncomfortably, unintentionally adjusting himself in his jeans by spreading his legs slightly against your couch.
“Okay, wait. I’m sorry, is this conversation too much right now?” You ask, looking him up and down and giving him a new glass of wine. “You’re blushing.”
He tries to play it off.
“As if you could make me blush.” He laughs at you, downing half of his glass in one go. “To make up for our lack of product though, and if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll give you a discount on your next purchase just for embarrassing yourself telling me that.”
“Oh, I was supposed to be embarrassed?” You counter, knowing that all you need to do is point out that he got flustered to shut him up. You opt not to because still, the two of you barely know each other. Instead, you opt to laugh along with him, letting your gaze fall back to studying all of those features he has that you didn’t quite notice before.
While you did notice he was handsome before, it’s not like you paid that thought any mind. There are a lot of handsome men out and about after all. It only starts to matter when they allow you to get close enough to appreciate it more. Not to mention, in your experience at various sex shops, most employees of them are mundane and nonchalant. Some are strange old men, or cool old women. Jay though? Jay.
Hmm…how to explain him?
With his messy hair that covers his eyes every time he whips his head toward you in a laugh, with his sharp jawed smile and pretty eyes. The little marks and celestial kisses against his skin that shows you of a life he’s been living. He feels…warm. Like everything about him looks comforting, smells comforting, sounds comforting. And now, even compared to when you met him at the shop, even at the reunion just this afternoon…he’s so much more handsome in this moment.
Learning his personality, hearing his voice say your name, having him take the time to not only help you but befriend you?
His shoulders are broad, and he’s just… you don’t even know how to explain to yourself the attraction you have toward him at this moment. Handsome is one thing, and you would have continued calling him that if it weren’t for the fact that he’s laughing with you on your couch about a ruined orgasm.
“You know, Jay,” You start, looking into your glass and swirling the liquid inside, then you look up again and make eye contact. “I’m really not usually this forward but like,”
His brain stops for a moment at the serious tone in your voice, his expression softens and you can tell he’s listening.
“I know masturbation and stuff is normal, and like, you see and talk about these things all the time but I never really talk about it to other people, they always get weird about it.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I can’t say this is the most normal hang out I've ever had. Usually we talk about our favorite movies or books or something.”
You wave him off.
“Yeah, that’s a good point. We could talk about our favorite movies but I find myself, um–” You stop for a second.
“Is talking about it making you realize that it’s uncomfortable?”
“No, the opposite actually.” You laugh, now actually feeling embarrassed. “I keep thinking about you mentioning the other things you’ve bought and experimented with.”
“Oh? You’re curious?” He laughs, now feeling a bit shy himself because he’s pretty sure that’s you asking him to put images in your head. “I mean I could go into detail but it actually might be too-telling right now.”
You nod, unsure of why you even suggested.
“Maybe next time?” You change the subject with a smile, one that does seem slightly disappointed.
“There’s a next time?” He smiles, setting his glass down on your table and shifting toward you.
“I don’t see why not? I’m having fun, plus you offered me a discount.”
He nods, looking around the room and checking the time.
“I should probably head out then? We’ve both had a long day.”
You nod back to him, feeling a bit sad.
“When are you free next?” You ask, grabbing your phone in a way that seems a bit too excited. “Can you give me your number?”
He obliges, exchanging phone numbers and promising to contact you with his next free day or night to hang out. Just as he goes to leave though, for some reason both of you feel as though the satisfaction of this hang out wasn’t reaching full potential.
“Hey, um,” He stops before he puts his shoes back on. “Would it be too forward to say I’m not tired and wouldn’t mind–”
“Staying for a bit longer?” You finish his sentence for him, patting the couch as if that was also on your mind.
He doesn’t even respond, and instead makes his way back onto the couch where the cushion is still warm, unable to help the fluttering feeling in his chest.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
It's almost two in the morning by the time he offers to leave again, and yet, he stays at your clear disappointment of the offer. Another hour later, the two of you are sitting contently and pretending to watch some shitty tv show in comfortable silence.
“We should say something.” He blurts, mid episode.
“What do you mean?”
He turns toward you.
“We should talk about this.” He motions at the space between the two of you.
You’re silent while you try to build up the confidence to meet him half-way again.
“You can correct me if you’re not interested but I actually really would like it if you kissed me or something.” He adds as you continue to process what he seems to be getting at.
You’re taken aback by his forwardness for some reason, and instantly you knew he didn’t communicate this earlier for your own sake. Thankfully, you’ve tried to make it easy for him to read you and he ate it up like his favorite meal. The content feeling between the two of you was buzzing up to this point. Very loudly in your brain where you were thinking of how to kiss him before the night is up. Even as just a “thank you” if he were to turn away from it.
“Oh yeah?” You ask, tilting your head and seeing him scoot closer. “Kiss you, or something?”
He nods his head, looking at you without much issue and searching for a reaction.
“Are you interested in me like that, in any way?” He asks, looking for confirmation.
“Oh, most definitely.”
The smile that spreads across his face is one that you can argue will be unforgettable. It’s an expression you hope to bring to every person in your life, one that seems to express nothing but relief, excitement, and maybe even a hint of bashfulness.
“You thought I'd invite you inside without being interested?” You smile at him, feeling a little bit fuzzy in the head at the admittance.
“I thought you were just being nice, or like, just interested in friendship,” He rambles on, stopping himself short to give more context to that statement. “I mean, it would be fine if this was all for friendship and I'm happy with that too but I can admit to coming into your apartment with maybe, uh, a small crush.”
“I can admit to inviting you in with a small crush, maybe.”
“Maybe.”
“Are we being too forward?” You ask, emphasizing the repetitive way that word seems to appear. “Even though you’re in my apartment at an ungodly hour and both of us are giving any and every excuse to keep you here?”
He smiles this time in a way that appears to be self-soothing, and you can imagine you are too. It’s always nerve-wracking to walk on eggshells with another person, the threat of wondering if you'll fall alone or fall with them into a new version of partnership.
You don’t think about the lack of knowing him past a purchase, a quick conversation at a family reunion, or the past several hours he’s huddled up with you on this couch. You simply don’t think it’s strange at this point. After all, you’ve met people online and invited them over without much more than a name, age, and quick conversation about what they want sexually. How is this worse? How is this strange?
“You’re right. Maybe we should stop being so polite when the reality of it is that I’ve been imagining what you’ve done with that toy since the day you bought it.”
Okay, maybe that was too forward but all is lost now as your image of him changes drastically within the mere seconds it took him to say that, not in a bad way either. Again, of course he’s comfortable admitting it, the dude stares at dicks and holes all day. But now he’s staring at you, and talking directly to you.
Your silence makes him shift a bit, shaking his head apologetically.
“Found the boundary, got it.” He shames himself with a timid voice, looking away from you and back to the tv with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m not lying though.” He adds after a few more minutes of your silence.
“Not much of a boundary if I admit that I was blatantly asking you earlier what you’ve done to experiment with your toys.”
“Aha! So I was right in thinking you were straight up asking for mind-porn of me?!” He feels instantly comfortable again, turning his entire body toward you as he folds up one of his legs to sit on with a little bounce.
“Maybe, but what do you mean you’ve been imagining since I bought it? You barely made eye contact with me that day.”
“Oh, I was checking you out the whole time you shopped. Imagine my face when I knew exactly what toy you were reaching for.”
You shove him by the shoulder with a laugh, realizing that this is the first bodily contact you’ve ever had with him, but he actually leans into your shove rather than out of it. Meaning, he barely budges.
“If I looked you in the eye at the register, you would have thought I was some pervert.”
“You are a pervert. You said it had, what? Twelve other colors?”
He shrugs with a pained smile at how cringe he must have sounded to you.
“You seemed more like a sparkly pink girl rather than a normal flesh tone girl. Then again, this was before I knew you were looking for a literal male sex doll for super normal pretend-sex.”
You shove him again, your laugh coming out more forced now at the way he jokes with you. Once again, he doesn’t budge. In fact, he’s leaning in closer.
“Now hold on, you didn’t mention anything about one having glitter in it.” You joke, wiggling your brows.
“You trying to fuck a man or a magic unicorn?” He laughs yet again, all of it coming out more forced as the two of you drag out information just to hear the dirty words in a voice you’re only just realizing you like far too much.
“A man.” You dead-pan, this time not laughing, looking him dead in the eye and trying to pretend you don’t notice how close the two of you have gotten. “Why else would I go for more human skin tones?”
“Fuck if I know, I haven’t met a single man who has vibration settings or rolling beads though.”
You snort.
“Shame…but also, why do you think I’m on the hunt for the most mundane sex toy a woman can buy now? The rolling beads almost had me passing out.”
“Was it too much?” He asks seriously, hoping to god it was.
“A little bit, yeah.”
“I can imagine you want something to feel real after that.”
For some reason, his words hit you straight in the gut. Your stomach drops as your attraction heightens, and suddenly you’re just staring at him as you respond.
“I can imagine so, yeah.”
He stares back, almost no space between the two of you as the banter only brought you both mentally and physically as close as possible without becoming twisted together.
“When was the last time you felt something real?” He asks against his better judgment, wondering if you’re on the same page with him. Wondering if all this banter was leading to somewhere or nowhere. Because he could have sworn admitting to wanting you to kiss him, and you’ve yet to do so.
“A month and a half.” You respond dryly, suddenly needing something to drink.
He glances down at your neck when you swallow around your words, then stares at your lips before breathing in a sigh. One that was supposed to relieve the tension in this moment, but only building it more because he knows you see him do it. He knows you see him wet his bottom lip too.
“Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to wait another month and a half to get what you want?” He continues on his streak of boldness as if to distract you from noticing the sexual tension, feeling his heart skip beats at the intensity of the moment.
“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” You start, leaning in and still looking straight into his eyes.
“Are you suggesting that I’m boring?” He narrows his eyes as he feels your breath against his lips, still sweet from the wine that did close to nothing in terms of altering the brain. The two of you are totally planted into reality, if anything, a little drunk on the other.
“Not at all.” You adjust your words from earlier, there, hovering just over his lips. “I’m just saying that nothing is more interesting than kissing you right now.”
Oh, the fluttering in his belly is so fucking intense right now. No eighteen inch alien tentacle dildo on a shelf could scare him as much as you do at this moment. Intimidatingly outspoken and aware of your wants and needs. His eyelashes flutter just like his stomach does, closing them slowly until he can feel your lips on his.
Your stomach, on the other hand, has been doing flips since the first instance he admitted to wanting to stay. All of the tension, all of the comfortable silence, all of the glances, the smiles, the laughing, all of it was leading up to this. The moment your lips hit his, they feel much like you imagined they would.
Soft, plush, warm. The thin lipped grins he’s given you all day now laying flat against your own lips, no longer grinning, now just wanting. And he’s gentle, so fucking gentle with it. Never has a man asked you to kiss him. Usually they close the gap to try and swoon you. It appears you’re both being swooned by each other at the moment though, and his soft kiss only pulls back momentarily before he leans forward, closer.
The third touch, save for you shoving him, his lips on yours, and now…his hand on your cheek. Caressing so gently as he deepens the kiss with ease. The heat rises up and through your skin at the simple touch. You think he must feel it with the way he chuckles into the kiss and starts peppering them against your lips over and over again. A split second between each lay of his lips, and then another solid kiss. One where you finally start moving yours too.
It’s slow and languid in the way he kisses you like this, barely even darting his tongue out but focusing more on your cheek against his palm. He can feel your jaw move as you kiss and can’t help but love what’s happening, and when you’re the one to lick against his lower lip, he falls in so easily.
That little movement from you, that little feeling of your tongue experimentally prodding his lips open releases the last bit of tension holding him back. He pulls back to look at you and you’re not backing down even slightly.
“Does this feel more real for you?” He asks in a snide way, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb of the glistening saliva before tilting his head with a smile.
You very nearly roll your eyes at him for that. And by very nearly, you do roll your eyes at him and can’t help but smile yet again.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” He says, palm still against your cheek, tips of his fingers toying with the baby hairs on your hair-line. “because I can imagine that the toy couldn’t ki-”
You shoot forward to kiss him again, only just realizing how awkward the positioning is considering neither of you were probably expecting more than a first kiss.
He laughs into it, knowing you were silencing him of something that could arguably be the most cringe-worthy thing he can say after kissing you. His laughs start to stifle though, as you press forward and somehow manage to have his back against the seat of the couch and you planting yourself on top of him.
“Can you shut up about the toy now? I thought we got past that,” You argue as you pull back, your cheek already missing the feeling of his palm against it. “You can’t just act like this and then say some dumb shit like that.”
You’re joking, he knows it. If anything, you’re complimenting him right now and he eats it the fuck up as he stares up at you.
“Was I wrong though?”
You take a moment to look at him, realizing that this is the man who you just kissed. With his hair a mess and fanned out on the cushions, strands falling in front of his eyes, but mostly swept back and exposing the entirety of his forehead to you.
You reach forward and brush a strand from his eyes.
“Actually, say whatever you want.” You correct yourself and manage to ignore his question.
“Why the sudden change of heart?” He half-chuckles as he brings his hands up to sit against your waist, hoping you don’t pull out of the intimate position the two of you are in.
“I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thought it would be stupid for me to try to argue with you right now.”
“Why’s that?” He prods for more compliments, feeling himself twitch at the way you look hovering over him.
“Are you trying to argue right now?” You tilt your head, adjusting yourself now to sit directly on his thighs and lay forward, both hands cushioning your chin on his chest as you straddle him.
“Would it be so wrong to admit that you’re fun when you argue with me?”
You can feel him breathe under you, nearly rocking you further and further into whatever headspace Jay seems to put you in. It’s too comfortable, and it almost feels as though you’ve been with him for years now. You barely know him, yet you’re lying on him as if you got married two years ago. Insane how this works. How the heart works, or the brain, or whatever drives the arousal you’re feeling right now.
“Will you argue if I ask to show you my room?” You start, lifting back up and away from his chest, now scooting forward a bit. You don’t dare sit on it yet, but you very much would like to if he were to suggest not moving at all from this couch. “My bed.”
He stutters and quickly quiets his excited words, replacing his voice with a nod and a sharp inhale.
“Hah! Telling me to argue and instantly buckling the second I mention my bed.” You laugh, pulling yourself up and sauntering out of his view.
He stares at the ceiling for a moment, in a daze over just how much he likes you. He wonders, would you be shocked to know he hasn’t had sex in much longer compared to you? One and a half months for you? That’s nothing to him. He’s been besties with his right hand for at least six months by now. Trust him when he says that it truly was difficult to not turn into a hormonal idiot when he saw you in the shop that day.
Finally, he shakes himself out of the spaced out horny brain staring at your ceiling and stands to his feet. He’s quick to adjust the bulge in his jeans, uncomfortably shaking his leg before looking toward where you walked off to.
“Um.” He stops, realizing you were watching him, looking directly at the spot he just adjusted. “I mean,” He tries to start again, adjusting again as he feels it slowly move out from its tucked place. “Listen,”
“No, I get it.” You say, snickering at his embarrassment as if he somehow doesn’t know you were suggesting at least some foreplay by moving to your room.
“Of course you do,” He drops his head, now blatantly shoving his hands down his pants to adjust before looking back up and taking a step forward. “You’re the one who sat on me like that.”
“Please, I didn’t even sit on it.”
“Didn’t need to.” He shrugs, now coming up to you and waiting for you to guide him through your space and into your room.
Once the two of you get there, him not even attempting to hide that he is very aroused at this moment, you’re very quick to turn and face him once he comes inside.
“We are on the same page, right?” You ask, looking at his lips and the way they still look so kissable.
“As far as I know, with all things considered.” He responds, looking down at himself and how pathetic he must seem in getting so aroused by nothing more than a kiss and a position change.
You smile, reaching for his hand and watching him tumble forward to you. Now standing mere inches in front of you.
“Do you want to see it?” You ask, a cheeky smirk on your face as you turn away from him and run to your bedside table.
He has no idea what the fuck you’re referring to until he sees it. There, in all of its non-human glory. Jay ticks his tongue, curiously straining his neck out to peek at what else is in your drawer as he walks closer.
You make no attempt to close the drawer and instead pull out another one, and another one, another one.
“If you keep pulling out toys I’ll start to think you were lying in saying you wanted to feel something more, um–”
“Real?” You say, turning from your presented line-up of toys to look at him.
He nods, gazing over the toys, four dildos all far bigger than he is.
“I can admit that men can’t vibrate, nor do they have those little rotating beats but,” You chuckle at the conversation, scooping the toys up quicker than you laid them out and tossing them back into the drawer. “They’re not warm, or attached to someone that can kiss me. They’re also not witty.”
You study his expression.
“They don’t make me laugh before getting me off.” You continue, wondering if you may actually be too forward about this now.
He’s rendered a bit speechless, which is rare for him in any given situation. He always has a quick response, not at this moment though as he looks at you. He wonders if you pity that obvious act of self-doubt upon seeing your toys.
“They’re not attached to you.” You add, this time stifling your chuckle, because it’s a pretty funny conversation if you look at it from the outside but you can imagine he must be feeling some type of way to be so quiet.
He thinks hard about it, knowing damn well where this was leading and pushing for it himself. Hearing you now though, so confidently say these things, all doubt erases from his mind.
“Before we do anything,” he starts, his shaky voice coming out more confident as he continues. “Is this just a hook-up to you or are you feeling the way I’m feeling right now?”
You look at him with a question in your eyes. He was kind of shocked that you didn’t finish for him this time, actually.
“Like, you know if we do this, I’m going to be calling to take you out to dinner at some point unless you say you don’t want me to, right?”
You hadn’t thought of anything past him since you’ve gotten here. You didn’t think about anything more than hanging out with him, and now, kissing him, and maybe you know, feeling him. For some reason though, despite the lack of sex you’ve had lately, him saying that only arouses you more. It’s been so long since you’ve intended to sleep with someone and have them want to stick around after. Some of the people you’ve been with didn’t even ask for your number. Is this what adult relationships are actually like?
“As in, you’d want to see where this goes in the–”
“Future, yes. I’m not just going to fuck you and pretend I didn’t when I see you again.”
Shockingly, that’s a first for you and you like the feeling it gives you. Plus, him implying that he’s about to, or very willing to, fuck you sends a wave of fondness through you.
“Alright. Let’s not call it a hook up then.” You say, the playful arousal from before stifling out at the idea of being intimate with someone who is making you aware that you’ll see him again, now being replaced with…feelings? Arousal with feelings?
“What should we call it?”
“A date?” You say back immediately, sitting on your bed and finally closing your bedside drawer.
“Oh, you fuck on the first date?”
You laugh at how quickly his wit comes back, especially with the way he crowds up and stands in front of you.
“With you? Looks like it.” You smile wide for him, feeling the tension bleed away and replace itself again with the arousal of him standing and looking down at you.
“How did we not meet earlier?” He asks, leaning down a bit as if to kiss you.
“Fuck if I know, I bought all of those toys at your shop.”
“Ah, right. Nine in the morning on a Monday. I don’t usually work mornings.”
“Guess I got lucky last time then.”
“I guess you did.” He adds like a period to a sentence, finally kissing you again and making no effort to hide the fact that he’s attempting to lay you down much like you did to him before.
You let him, falling back on your bed and feeling him nudge your legs to spread. Again, you let him, feeling your heart begin to race with excitement in the way he kisses you now versus how he did it earlier.
There is clear intent behind it this time, as he positions himself between your legs. Your heart only races faster when one of his hands slides down your arm and he tangles his fingers with yours. It’s all very intimate to be coming from a man you officially met today, but you really do feel lucky.
Lucky that he works two jobs, lucky that your family throws lame ass reunions every five years, lucky that you left your headlights on during a sunny sunday afternoon, lucky that your battery died.
It’s so normal already to smile into the kiss and feel giddy inside. Never have you smiled into a kiss save for laughing when a leg cramp happens mid-fuck. You can’t believe how much you’ve smiled and laughed today, and you can’t believe he’s making you react this way just by holding your fucking hand and kissing you this way.
He laughs when you react though, probably feeling at ease on your bed with you under him, squeezing your fingers tightly each time he licks against your tongue. And when he pulls back to breathe, you just look at him and the way his hair hangs in front of his eyes. He looks so pretty at this angle, even when he’s moving slowly, even when his other hand remains planted beside your head to hold his weight from falling onto you.
It’s not been since highschool that you’ve laid with someone simply making out, fully clothed, giggling. You’re unsure of how he’s pulled this out of you, because usually when a man is on top of you, you’re already trying to get his clothes off. But this? This is something that you want to last. You want it to be slower than a usual fuck, because you like when he’s here with you. Whether on top of you or not, there was a reason he’s stayed this late already and you already know it wasn’t solely to fuck you.
“Did you expect to be on top of me someday?” You ask between kisses, and he takes that as an invitation to laugh against your neck and tickle your cheek with his messy hair.
“Expect it? No,” He starts, leaving a kiss just under your ear before lowering his lips to the collar of your shirt and kissing there too. “Hoped I could, though.”
Your heart swells up at that. You realized he must have meant it when he admitted to having a small crush on you. Only now do you realize that the curiosity that brought you back up to the food-table during the reunion may have been the start of a crush on your end too.
You don’t say anything more after that and instead fall into the feeling of his lips kissing along your collar. For some reason the sensation of his lips pushing the fabric out of the way so he can kiss new exposed skin makes you feel incredibly wanted. Maybe it’s the pace, or maybe it’s just because you really really like him, and want him to want you.
“Do you want to take it off?” You ask after a few more of his kisses, wanting to control yourself but also very much wanting to feel his lips everywhere else too.
You can feel him nod in the form of his hair tickling your cheek more. But he doesn’t move from that spot at first, continuing to kiss you the same way and in the same places. You let him, up until he finally sighs and pulls back.
Looking at him now, even compared to a few moments ago, he looks even more pretty. His eyes are now soft, you can almost see the lines from where he’s smiled for you all day. His lips, looking more kissable than they did the past two times you thought they looked as kissable as they ever could. His eyebrows, showing no signs of tension but permanently arched in a way that makes him appear constantly moody.
You’re staring and you’re not intending to hide it. Even as he lifts your shirt from your waist and starts to pull it up. You barely budge as you stare, and stare, until you can’t because he’s trying to pull your shirt over your head.
“If you’d stop staring for two seconds maybe I could get this off of you–” He smiles knowingly, finally pulling it off when you arch your back and then prop yourself up slightly with your hands. “There.”
He sighs when he says it, going silent and almost frozen at the image of your nearly-naked torso. You watch him stare now, a smirk forming all too quickly.
“Now look who’s staring.” You chuckle, noting that his eyes still don’t leave the newly exposed skin or the fabric of your bra.
“Yeah, I am.” He admits, wetting his lower lip again and then flicking his eyes to you. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Suddenly, that eye contact makes you feel shy. You’re more naked than he is, despite mostly being dressed still.
“You know,” you start, avoiding his intense eye contact just to get the words out. “If we just take all of our clothes off now, it would probably be easier.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle at you but nods, already lifting his shirt off and going for his zipper and button.
“There’s no rush, but if you’d prefer we do,” He scoots back and away from you, standing to his feet to shove his jeans down his legs. “I don’t mind.”
You watch him undress and lose all ability to act on your own for a solid thirty seconds before you finally start panic-shimming the rest of your clothing off. Save for bra and panties, and he, now standing there clad in only a pair of form-fitting briefs.
You’re glad he isn’t as shy as you at this moment though, or rather, he appears to be entirely infatuated with your body and doesn’t look away from it for even a moment to feel embarrassed himself at standing on the side of your bed nearly nude.
“No rush?” You ask, when he finally trails his eyes up to you and takes his position between your legs from earlier. Except now, you can see his biceps and the way they flex, now, you can feel the immense amount of warmth radiating from him. Now, his hair is even more of a mess.
“I can try,” He says quietly, balancing on one hand and lowering his lips to yours once more, trying to ignore how dangerously close his length is to bumping against your core. “No promises now, though.”
You smirk, wondering where he lost his self control within that short span of time where you got undressed. He cuts your chuckle off mid-way though, now kissing you again and moving his hand up and down your waist. It tickles and causes goosebumps to form all over you, to the point that you can’t help but sigh into his kiss.
He continues, still holding his hips back from grinding against you, kissing you as good as he can until trailing back to your neck again.
It’s not until you run your fingers through his hair that he sighs himself. That relief and heavenly feeling of your fingers scraping the back of his neck— such a simple touch can literally send him straight to hell at this point and he wouldn’t care a single bit as long as it’s from you and your hands.
He lowers himself more, just to prevent his hips from intruding into this moment only to lock his lips onto the mound of your breast, other hand lowering so he can lay down and push your bra to the side a bit.
The cold air that hits your nipple is short-lived when you feel him immediately suck it into his mouth with a deep breath. You continue to scratch through his hair, now using your other hand to nearly hug his head in place as you feel the sensations shoot straight between your legs. Each flick of his tongue sends signals to your brain to go! go! go! But much like him, you hold back, even though your legs still manage to squeeze his body between yours in an attempt to find the friction he isn’t yet offering.
He continues this for a few minutes, and then works his fingers under the bra on the other side of your chest before switching his lips to that one. Perking them up so perfectly that he can graze his teeth against either nipple and feel your legs react to it. All of it is turning him on beyond belief, it’s dangerously attractive to him now too, to know that you have several toys that could have already gotten you off by now, but you choose this. You choose his lips playing with your tits, and your legs doing an amazing job of showing him your lack of control. After all, toys can’t give you the foreplay that he can.
His lips continue their work, up until he’s trailing further and further down, making your sighs hitch higher and higher in pitch. He kisses your waist, just above your belly button, then just below your belly button before leaning back.
There, he looks directly at the seat of your panties and smiles at the wet spot there. He plants a kiss right in the center of your mess before climbing back up and caressing your cheek again.
“You’re wet.” He comments in a huskier voice than he normally uses, balancing yet again on his other arm.
Goddamn, if this is how he sounds when he’s with a girl then you feel more lucky than before. You can’t imagine the amount of women who have fallen completely in love with this guy. And, before you can actually respond to him with another cheeky comment, his hand on your cheek disappears and is instantly between your legs, cupping you there and even scooting you up the bed with the force of how he grabs you.
You hitch out a sigh and look at him with a smile.
“Obviously.” You say back, rolling your eyes playfully before unintentionally bucking your hips into the pressure his palm offers against your clit.
“Cute too.” He adds, lifting his palm to run his fingers up the wet spot on your panties before pressing in slightly.
You can feel the fabric stick to you uncomfortably, but it still feels so fucking good. Any amount of touching from him feels good, if you’re being honest.
“And you’re teasing me.” You argue, looking away from his smirk as he plays with the wet fabric against his fingers.
“Just ask. I’m not teasing you if you're not telling me what you want.”
You shoot your eyes back to him, a mixture of curiosity and shock in your eyes. It’s true though, you are a little shocked. Most men really just do what they want, and so do you. Never have you been asked what you want.
Your eyes trail down as far as they can, what his hand is doing is mostly hidden between your legs but you focus entirely on the way his arms flex as his fingers travel up and down your panties.
“You want me to ask?” You question, hips bucking up again unintentionally.
“Not so much ask, but like, tell me what you want.”
He nods to himself as he says it, licking his bottom lip and pressing the fabric of your panties in yet again.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what he wants right now though, definitely not. He just figures you know your body far better than he does, and he’d rather not make assumptions and embarrass himself when you could just ask him or better, guide him. Who is he to assume you want his fingers right now anyway?
“I’ve never…” You start, swallowing your words as your brain goes back to focusing on his fingers momentarily. “I haven’t–”
He knows what you’re trying to say, so he attempts to make it a bit easier for you.
“Do you want me to pull your panties to the side?”
You sigh with a nod, looking at him and allowing him to guide you through telling him what you want.
“Do you want me to touch you?”
You nod again, pushing your head back against the mattress out of frustration that you, for some reason, can’t find the words to just tell him yourself.
He listens to your body though, more than your weak nods and frustrated sighs. The way your legs shake when he asks, the way you react to the air hitting your folds when he does push your panties to the side. He can’t bear to look down yet though, because he knows for a fact that if he were to pull back and look at you in full, he’d no longer be asking you what you want. He’d be embarrassing for sure.
You can feel his fingers now sliding through your folds though, bare pussy out and on display but not yet being looked at, only being felt. And arguably, all you can do right now is feel too, as he leans forward to kiss you in this silent moment.
His fingers continue to explore as he kisses you, collecting all of your arousal and swirling it around your clit before sliding back down and prodding at your entrance. You make a sound at that, kissing him a little harder than before when he lets out a hum.
“Hm?” He hums against your lips, and you nod to him.
There, he dips a finger in only slightly. Your arms reach around his neck at the feeling and pull him closer to you. To the point that you can feel him struggle to angle his hands right to slide in deeper, but you pay no mind to it. At least not until you kiss the fucking daylights out of him.
That, you do. Kissing him with full-force and making a show of how turned on you are for him. He feels it, with or without your kiss bruising him. The wetness on the tip of his finger only becomes wetter, and when you release your grip around his neck, he still doesn’t leave the kiss.
He goes back to gently kissing you, focusing more on his fingers than what his tongue is doing. He slides that same finger in all the way now, feeling your walls clench almost instantly and beg for more. Chuckling at the feeling, he fucks his finger into you experimentally before pulling them out and adjusting two fingers at your entrance.
“Hm?” He hums again, and you nod again.
So, two fingers slide in and you’re releasing a soft moan against his lips. Already out of breath from focusing so hard on how he feels when he touches you. Your lips fall slack just to catch that lost breath, and he doesn’t argue, going right back to that spot on your neck to kiss as he picks up rhythm with his fingers. Effectively fucking you open with them as you cling to him.
You hate to say you didn’t pay much attention to his hands until now. Having not noticed how deep just those two digits reach inside of you, and good fucking lord does he know how to use them too. Curling them up at just the right moment to have your legs shaking.
Never have your legs fucking shook for a man. This only happens with the g-spot stimulating toys. God, you open your eyes to look at the ceiling in thought, and it has you wondering if he even knows he’s doing it.
“Keep doing that–” you urge him, and he hums at you finally at least trying to tell him what you want.
He finally lifts from your neck to look at you, now placing his weight back on that one free arm that had been toying with the ends of your hair this entire time, and he’s fucking floored. Even if he pictured you before with those toys, none of those images came close to this. And it’s just his fingers? No where near the size of your toys, no where near as expensive, or warm…or alive.
Oh. You want to feel someone who wants you.
“I’ll do anything you want.” He says, doing exactly as you asked except a little faster, still hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly that you’re moaning out now.
He tunes in entirely to the sounds you’re making, the faces you’re making, and the way your pussy clenches around just those two fingers. He is aching at this point, pulling back from hovering over you to sit now between your legs, fingers still keeping pace, and sliding his other hand down his briefs.
You don’t notice at first, too enthralled by the feeling of his curling fingers inside of you, but when you do–
“God,” You moan, rolling your eyes at the image of him out of breath, both hands working to pleasure both of you. “Come here.”
He listens, already pulling his hand away from himself but keeping his fingers in you, in a daze as he takes his original position of hovering over you.
“No, I mean, come here.” You say, looking at him as you reach between your bodies and pull his fingers out of you, then reach to grab between his legs.
He immediately moans at the feeling, his hips pressing harshly into your grip with a whine as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes just to feel it.
“Pull it out.” You continue, slowly becoming more and more comfortable telling him what you want.
Just watching him do what you ask is insanely hot. The way he pulls his cock out seems so natural to him, you suddenly imagine what he must look like all alone while getting himself off. Thankfully though, he’s not all alone right now, he’s with you, and you intend to be getting him off.
You look at him, between his legs, and then back at him once more before grabbing it again and practically pulling his hips to you by the cock. He groans all the same at it though, and only holds his breath when he feels your legs spread further and essentially press his cock between your folds and hold it there from the head.
“Grind.” You say, still holding your hand in place to keep the pressure against him, which also puts pressure against your clit when he does grind up.
You both shiver at it, and he still looks down at you, fucking smiling through his sighs of relief regarding the new sensations you’re offering.
“You’re actually fucking perfect.” He compliments, fucking his hips up and coating his cock with the dripping of your needy cunt.
Out of everything he’s ever said to you up to this point, out of everything he’s fucking done to you, that’s the one thing that has you spiralling into a world of fire. It makes you feel so warm, especially with the head of his cock bumping your clit. He has barely gotten any friction and he is still calling you perfect? Sign you the fuck up, forever, actually.
“Don’t be stupid,” You start, waving him off between moans and gripping his shoulders.
He grinds up harder at your words though, now propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing your face on both sides.
“You, don’t be stupid.” He says clearly, pointing his thrusts directly at your clit and moaning only slightly as he looks at you.
You swear, at that moment he could see your entire life. Everything about you. Everything you love and hate. The way he doesn’t look through you but at you?
“You’re actually insane.” You laugh, crumbling to his pointed gaze and thrusts, your legs automatically shooting up to wrap around his waist.
He seems proud of being called insane right now. Mostly because he can come up with at least fifty reasons as to why this is anything but insanity, but he remains quiet at the feeling of your legs squeezing around him.
Such a girl was looking for mundane sex toys to have normal sex with? Lucky you, this is his fucking favorite. Plain ‘ol missionary? Check. Legs squeezing around him, almost pulling him in? Check. Looking directly at the face of the person he wants to make feel good? Check.
You barely notice his lack of control by this point, the closeness alone feels like you’re already having sex but you realize you’re entirely empty still. This is fine though, until it’s not.
When does it not become fine? When his confident moans turn to soft sighs, and you notice his arms shaking a bit to hold his weight above you, and when his eyes go dead staring at you. You can tell he’s focused entirely on the feeling between the two of you, doing nothing more than aggressive yet…weak grinds?
“Jay,” You say, slightly out of breath.
“Hm?” He responds half-heartedly, releasing his weight from one elbow and dropping his head between your neck and shoulder.
“Fuck me.”
It’s like you can feel the switch in his head go from losing sanity to gaining it back in an instant at those words. He felt like he was pleasuring himself against you for so long, with so much friction between your hand and his abdomen constantly pressing into it. He could have gotten off from this, if you wanted him to anyway. It would have been an intense orgasm after working up for so long too, but now?
He doesn’t even say anything, he doesn’t even move his head from between your neck and shoulder. Instead, you feel him expertly adjust his hips and press in without much trouble. He finds exactly where he belongs so fucking fast that is has you spinning and clenching immediately.
“Shit,” He drones out with a long sigh, slowly sinking his cock into you. “You’re throbbing.”
You chuckle, because yeah. You definitely are, but so is he. You can feel his thick length spreading you open inch by inch, until he’s fully planted into you and twitching. Then he doesn’t move again.
“This alone could do me in,” He chuckles against your neck, breathing in a deep sigh and attaching his teeth to your lower ear lobe. “Honestly, I can't believe I didn’t already cum just from having my fingers in you.”
You’re both flattered and shocked by this comment, before you can even think to respond he’s talking again.
“You’re so tight, so wet.” He soothes himself through the feeling of your walls clenching around him by explaining how good your pussy feels, not yet wanting to move and just wanting to feel what your body does to him on its own. “It’s so hard not to move right now.”
“Please,” You manage to get out, struggling to focus on just one thing with the way he’s talking and the way he sits so perfectly inside of you. “Please, move.”
And he does, instantly. Pulling out and sliding back in so easily that the slapping sound is muted entirely by the matching moan you both release. You can feel his voice vibrating against your neck, and you can imagine he might be able to feel yours through your pulsing walls, because it feels like every sound, touch, and sensation is sent straight there for him to enjoy.
It doesn’t stop either. Both of you shamelessly moaning at the feeling of him snapping his hips into you at perfect speed, with a perfect voice, and a perfect hand moving up to grip your chest.
He’s practically blanketing you with his body, your legs holding him in this spot, his hair still finding a way to tickle your cheek with each thrust in. It’s so fucking much. It’s so good, and so…comfortable.
You’re comfortable. So comfortable you don’t even feel the need to rub your clit, you don’t want to chase the orgasm, you just want to feel him. And apparently, he’s still on the same page with you.
When he lifts his head, kissing the bottom of your chin and then your lower lip, still the two of you are groaning at each deep thrust in, but he manages to talk through it, somehow.
“Don’t stop,” he says, despite you barely doing anything. “Keep doing that.” He continues as his thrusts pick up pace.
Only now do you realize that you were doing something. Without noticing, your hands were nearly tearing his back apart. Not literally, but your nails may have dug in a few times. Normally, once you notice doing that, you would stop because normally men don’t want the trace of another woman on him. Jay though, he’s in love with the idea that you’ll leave a mark.
Obsessed with the sting of it, really, loving the idea of going to his night-job tomorrow and staring at all of the toys that don’t offer you a back to hold onto like this.
You do as he asks much like he does for you, gripping him so tightly that your nails have no choice but to leave half-moon shapes on his skin. Each thrust drags your fingers up, down, up down, and with each thrust it somehow feels deeper, harder, hotter.
When he releases your chest from his other hand and puts it back to your cheek, caressing much like he has each time he’s focused on kissing you, you think you’re a fucking goner.
As expected, he kisses you at that moment and thrusts once, hard, before holding himself there.
“I’m really close,” He whispers apologetically between kisses, “tell me how to get you there with me.”
You smile when he kisses you again instead of letting you answer, but you fall into it much like he does and you opt to grab that hand on your cheek and guide it to your clit.
Instantly, he’s rubbing harsh and sloppy circles around it, and you reward him for the perfect work of his fingers yet again with your fingernails digging into his back. He softly moans at that, and you swallow it up all too easily.
Tensing your muscles, his fingers on your clit work you up so quickly that you barely warn him of your oncoming orgasm, even as his cock sits leaking and heavy inside of you. You don’t even know how to tell him, all you can do is frantically moan out shortly.
“I’m–”
Instantly his hips are back at work, barely even thrusting but instead remaining buried into you for the most part. He pulls out an inch and slams back in, wanting your orgasm to get him off more than his own movements. And fuck, it does.
The way you clench when you reach your high, slack lips against his own, he releases at what he could argue is the best possible time. Your tenses muscles work him up perfectly, gently massaging his cock as he releases in full without too much overstimulation.
And you. You have never gotten off with a man staying mostly still inside of you. Actually, you’ve only gotten off that way with toys because nothing beats getting off while completely full. Jay really is something, or, someone.
The two of you release together, and his lips fall slack just like yours do. The kissing turned to that of desperate, orgasm-fogged moans into the other’s mouth. For some reason, it was incredibly hot to you that you both reacted that way. So insanely drunk on the other that nothing felt embarrassing.
Even the way his fingers moved on your clit through your orgasm, he somehow knew when to go and when to stop.
Even now, as your orgasm tapers off, you are so blissfully aware that you want to immediately fall asleep even with him inside of you. Jay is polite though, and gently pulls out with a small apology of the mess.
When he looks at you, looking so sleepy under him, maybe it translates to him too and he instantly yawns but tries to be strong for both of you.
“We should clean up.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
There wasn’t even a question in your head when he slept over that night. He didn’t even hint at leaving. Nor did he hint the morning after as you groggily opened your computer for your daily work.
He did hint that he would miss you when he eventually had to go to his own house and get ready for an evening at the sex-shop. He also hinted a few times at feeling like, when he looked at you, you weren’t a brand new person in his life. Part of you wonders if that’s because maybe you want to be permanent in his life from now on.
Later that night, he came back. Bright eyes and a stinging back.
For some reason, you feel it’s safe to say that neither of you can stand being apart for too long. So yeah, maybe this is what a normal relationship is like. If, you know, you were in a relationship with him.
Ironically enough, only a few days later that relationship is established in the form of a new car battery and a bottle of lube that he bought for you.
Not that you need it. (The lube.)
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Monster bf who is the epitome of perfection when you’re feeling down and have spent all day rotting in bed.
He’ll open up the floor to it but won’t push you to talk unless you show clear signs of wanting to talk about what’s bother you.
He won’t try and make you get up out of bed either, understanding that while sometimes it may help, it can also sometimes make things even worse and maybe today is just a bed rot day. And that’s ok.
He’ll rot with you.
Big Monster bf comes padding up onto your bed, the room is dark and quiet. The silence stifling yet the idea of doing anything to bring noise is just exhausting. So you lay there, perhaps you’re playing on your phone or reading a book you’re not fully paying attention to. Just looking for anything to bring you some comfort.
That’s when he comes like a ray of sunshine in darkness. Who would have thought? This big monstrous creature that many fear to even outrightly approach is your absolute everything. Your beacon.
Your Monster bf who knows just what you need. Who doesn’t being with him the pressure of typical company. With him comes peace as he slides up behind you, wrapping his arms around your body like a cocoon that’ll protect you from the rest of the world, and he brings you into his chest.
And he rots with you.
He just lays with you but somehow you feel even the tiniest bit better. Your heart aches, your body aches, your mind aches… and with his touch and the acceptance that comes with it you feel just a touch better. But it’s enough to make you feel like you’re on cloud nine.
Your Monster bf is worried about you, of course he is. But he’s seen you like this before. He’s seen you beat this before and he knows you’re gonna be able to do it again. He has faith in you and he’s going to be by your side for every minute of it. He realizes that all he has to do. Is be there. It’s enough, it’s what you want more than anything.
So he’ll happily rot with you until you decide it’s time for you both to get up and try facing another day.
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Pleaseeee can you fo more homicipher reaction to mc who is very cheerful in every situation like shes either giggling or smiling, she's so unserious and oblivious af too.
⊱ Homicipher Characters’ Reactions to an MC Who Is Cheerful and Oblivious ⊰ || Multiple Character Headcanons
╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Mr. Crawling, Mr. Chopped, Mr. Machete, Mr. Hood, Mr. Scarletella (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Minor Spoilers for Homicipher (Mr. Scarletella’s Part), Minor Canon-typical Mentions of Violence. Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Romantic or Platonic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~2,100 words. Request: “Pleaseeee can you fo more homicipher reaction to mc who is very cheerful in every situation like shes either giggling or smiling, she's so unserious and oblivious af too.” Author’s Note: This was such a fun request to think about since a human like this existing within the other world would pretty much be a living, walking target – like, you’d probably be dead so quickly if you were oblivious or naïve or too trusting (like me when I first played through the game and was smiling every time a hot monster man talked to me 😭). Since you didn’t specify any characters, I just picked a handful that I thought would have varying reactions to the type of reader you requested. I hope you enjoy!
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👣: Mr. Crawling loves your cheerful and friendly personality, finding it a breath of fresh air within the other world. It draws him to you even more, like a moth to a bright flame. He likes how you sometimes just randomly giggle or laugh. He does it, too, so it’s nice to meet someone so similar to him! He definitely feels this sense of kinship with you when he notices all the similarities you two share. Mr. Crawling does everything in his power to keep you safe, wanting to protect you from everything or everyone attempting to harm you in the hopes you don’t lose that sparkle – that light within you.
👣: He’s already very protective of you, and your obliviousness to the other world and its residents makes that feeling even stronger. He is aware that your friendly and trusting nature will be taken advantage of in the world he calls his home, so he somehow manages to take a more proactive role when it comes to keeping you safe… if that was even possible (it’s ON SITE if he sees Mr. Stitch near you. Mr. Crawling knows how that particular resident acts, and he would prefer not to have him kidnap or try to eat you…).
👣: Whenever you laugh, he also laughs – you do the same thing with him, too, so you both kind of bounce off of each other and act like the other’s personal echo. Any other resident who sees the two of you kind of thinks you have a few screws loose, watching from afar while you both just randomly laugh together without a care in the world. Honestly, Mr. Crawling thinks it’s nice to be able to laugh with someone else like this.
👣: Overall, your personality manages to make him love you even more (if that was even possible). Mr. Crawling does everything in his power to make sure you never stop smiling, never once making you feel like you’re not supposed to laugh even if it may not be seen as appropriate in the situation. He doesn’t care that sometimes your obliviousness results in both of you finding yourselves between a rock and a hard place. He will be there by your side until the day you tell him to leave – his love for you is unconditional, and that’s just a fact no matter what kind of person you are.
🗣️: Much like Mr. Crawling, Mr. Chopped also finds himself immensely endeared to you and your personality. He loves how happy you are all the time, and he finds his mood improving whenever you’re around, too! It’s wonderful to have someone like you around, someone who is always so cheerful and upbeat, especially considering the place you have found yourself trapped in. He appreciates it – appreciates you, as a whole – but that doesn’t mean he has no reservations about your personality…
🗣️: His anxiety spikes whenever he thinks too much about what you were potentially getting up to whenever he wasn’t around, worried about you getting taken advantage of or giggling at the wrong question and ending up injured, or worse, dead. He really enjoys spending time with you, you’re like a ray of sunlight in such a dark place, and the thought of that being gone after having just experienced it is… quite an unpleasant thought (he doesn’t know what sunlight is, but he can vaguely remember a yellow warmth from a time long forgotten that you remind him of). If he had a body, he’d probably be ripping his beloved hair out just because of how oblivious you can be.
🗣️: Mr. Chopped is definitely the type to just start scolding you point-blank, telling you that you need to be more careful – his beautiful hair is going to turn grey at this point with how often he worries about you! Please don’t make him worry… It’s not good for his metaphorical heart. He even lectures you about how he typically tells the difference between people he can trust (like you, Mr. Silvair, the Hairdresser) versus people he knows he can’t trust (like the Hooded Child or Mr. Stitch) in the hopes it will have you thinking about your safety more.
🗣️: Sometimes he feels a sense of helplessness whenever he thinks about you and the fact he can’t do anything to keep you safe; it’s something he opens up about to Mr. Silvair whenever you’re not around. Mr. Chopped finds himself wishing that he had a body, even though you had assured him he was perfectly fine in your eyes without one. He just wants to help and protect you the way that others you knew were capable of doing. Whenever you sense he’s feeling down, though, your bright smile is enough to wash away his worries about your well-being, even if only for a moment.
🔪: Doesn’t understand why you’re so chipper all the time. Honestly, I feel like Mr. Machete would find it annoying, the fact you’re always smiling or giggling at one thing or another. He’ll purposefully chuck his sword at you in the hopes that it will scare you, make you wipe that stupid smile off your face, but it never does… It falters a bit, sure, but it never fully goes away, and that just pisses him off more.
🔪: He kind of makes it his mission to try and break you, to see how or what he can do to finally make you get angry or upset. After all, you never really fight back when he tries to start things with you, and that’s boring. He wants you to get frustrated at him, wants to see you throw a punch or try to hit him after another attempt at making your smile disappear, yet you never do. You remain smiling, and you’re oh-so blinding whenever you do, and he hates it. He hates you (or does he? He isn’t even sure himself… emotions are too complicated).
🔪: Overall, Mr. Machete has mixed feelings toward you. He can respect the strength it takes to keep a smile on your face, to remain positive and happy in a place filled to the brim with violence and death… That doesn’t mean he likes it, though, hearing your laughter whenever he does something you find endearing or if you see something you find amusing. It’s a sound that's headache-inducing, yet it also makes him want to pick you up and squeeze you (I’m a firm believer that he would have cuteness aggression). He has a love-hate relationship with you.
🔪: Mr. Machete also finds himself fed up with your obliviousness and naïvety, especially regarding other residents. He’s getting sick and tired of you finding yourself in trouble and, when it finally sets in you’re in danger, you call to him for help. Why the hell are you calling for him? You got yourself into this mess, and you’ll figure out a way to get out of it… Well, that’s what he says, but he usually takes care of whatever resident you found yourself in a conflict with, or he tosses you effortlessly over one shoulder and absconds if he doesn’t think it’s a fight he can win (don’t ask him why he even bothers saving you – he doesn’t know the answer, either).
🪓: Your cheerful and peppy attitude, the way you’re always smiling brightly and warmly at everyone you meet, makes Mr. Hood feel both endeared to you and worried about you. You do realize you just agreed to give that resident your heart, right? If he wasn’t here, you most certainly would have died, and that’s not exactly a thought he wants to entertain. He felt protective over you since the first moment you met, and that feeling had not died down once (even if looking after you had made him feel like he’d aged a century).
🪓: Always places himself between you and other residents when you attempt to communicate with them, using himself as a shield just in case you accidentally agree to something absurd or laugh at the wrong thing. Mr. Hood really shifts into teaching mode after cases like these, making sure you know exactly what certain words mean and when not to laugh, smile, or blindly agree to things. Honestly, if you were oblivious and overly trusting, he would feel it was his duty to stay by your side at all times and would be worried about what would happen if he left you alone.
🪓: However, despite the persisting feeling of worry your personality and some of your traits bring him when watching you interacting with most of the other residents, he can’t help but enjoy your presence. It’s new, and he surprisingly likes hearing the sound of your laughter. He finds your personality and behaviors to be cute, even though they bring you trouble more often than not. Most of the time, sometimes unconsciously, Mr. Hood finds himself resting his hand on the top of your head, patting it softly whenever you look up and smile at him so brightly.
🪓: Mr. Hood, despite finding that your obliviousness and your inability to take most things seriously typically ends up with you winding up in troublesome situations that could have been easily avoided, he still wouldn’t change a single thing about you (he has no problem staining his hands with more blood to keep you safe – killing residents while protecting you at the same time is something he’s good at, after all). Your smile is just too bright, your laugh almost infectious, and all he wants to do is make sure it never fades. He feels a strange ache in his chest whenever you take his hands into yours and tug him along, laughing all the way. He doesn’t understand it, but he also doesn’t have the desire to understand it, either.
���: Your personality intrigues him, and he finds himself desiring to know what you’re thinking about. What makes you so happy? How can you continue to travel through the other world, facing one traumatic event after another, with a smile constantly plastered on your face? A person like you is new to Mr. Scarletella, and he wants to be around you more. He wants to figure out how he can be the person making you smile and laugh in such a way – he wants to be able to bathe in the warmth and brightness your aura radiates.
🩸: Mr. Scarletella doesn’t make his presence known most of the time throughout your journey, but he watches you from afar, keeping an eye on you. However, if he does need to step in to keep you from harm, he will. Your reaction to him is unlike anyone else he's met, though. Most people who saw the man with the red umbrella would scream and run the other way, terrified of the story that was intertwined with his existence, but you didn’t. Honestly, it makes him want you more – you’re new, you’re different – and he likes it… likes you. There’s something about the sound of your laughter and your happy-go-lucky nature that makes him feel alive, in a way.
🩸: However, because of your obliviousness and naïvety, when he asks for your name and you just give it to him without a second thought… well, it makes his goal a lot easier. If I’m being 100% honest, being oblivious or overly trusting around Mr. Scarletella is not a good mix. Because he finds you interesting and different from other humans he’s seen before, he’s pleased that you’re his now – heart, body, and soul. You forget everything about yourself after, though, and he doesn’t find you as appealing as he once did (he low-key kind of regrets asking for your name).
🩸: For feel-good purposes, though, we’ll just ignore the last point and continue with the fluff… So, overall, Mr. Scarletella would find you fascinating and would find himself wanting to be near you in any capacity, whether it be as your master or your servant, he wouldn’t care so long as he got to be with you. He honestly wonders how you’ve managed to live for as long as you have considering your general attitude towards most things, but he’s glad that you did. Being with you makes his lungs feel like they’re full of fresh air, and he gets a pleasant tingling sensation in his body whenever he hears your laughter echo through the dilapidated hallways of the other world.
#🌸 . plum writes#homicipher#文字化化#homicipher x reader#homicipher x you#mr crawling#mr chopped#mr machete#mr hood#mr scarletella#mr crawling x reader#mr crawling x you#mr chopped x reader#mr machete x reader#mr machete x you#mr hood x reader#mr scarletella x reader#mr scarletella x you#homicipher imagines#homicipher headcanons#imagines#headcanons#fluff
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heyyy I love love love your L&DS writings omg you're one of the few who actually write accurate character personality (literally few writers Ik for L&DS)
May I request how will they react if reader/mc is jealous on someone. Dying for the reaction of Rafayel!!! Thank youuuuu lovie💕
JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY…
notes: i’m sorry for the wait but this week was hell for me :) but now i’m back. i hope you like it! And thank you for your kind words.
contains: love and deepspace boys x reader, jealous reader, fluff, established relationship
ZAYNE
he knows the face when he sees it. he knows right away that something was off, but knowing you he didn’t say anything.
zayne didn’t understand why you were jealous of his patient. it was a patient, someone who needed his help and probably would not see again after they were treated.
when he saw that you didn’t say anything all day, he decided to talk with you. sitting on the couch with hot chocolate in hand you looked at his eyes, face red.
“why why?” you asked, trying to change the subject, to shy to speak your mind.
“why are you making that face? you did that all day. tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.”
you didn’t want to talk about it, putting your head between his shoulder and neck, sighing slowly, “i have to?”.
and so you told him what happened. how his patient was looking loving at him and how they tried to touch his forearm. how sexy he looked in his coat and glasses and how you were jealous that he didn’t pay attention to you.
“dummy. you know i only care about you.”
“i love you.”
XAVIER
he knew something was off when you refused to play with his hair, but he didn’t know what. let’s say… you were angry at him for a few days.
why? at first you were jealous at his partener. after some time working together, you decided that was the best to have different partners just to be able to concentrate.
“did something happened?” he asked, now sitting on the bed, looking at your figure.
“no” was your answer, not looking away from your phone. you knew it was not fair to be angry at him, but you could not just pretend nothing happened.
“don’t ‘no’ me. something happened, but what?”
so you told him in detail what bothered you and what he did, even though it was not his fault.
“so… are we good now?” he asked, hand on you cheek, looking into your eyes.
“no. i’m still upset.”
“oh come on, babe. i promise it’s not going to happen again, ok? just… kiss me. i missed you.” he complained, blue eyes looking for your lips.
“it’s your partner, xavier. of course it’s going to happen again.”
“who says i’m going to have a partner from now on?”
“xavier!”
RAFAYEL
he knew you were jealous, but he secretly enjoyed it, and so he did nothing.
he liked to see you all red and flustered, and because you did not say anything he continued, curious about how much you can stay that way.
it did not take long before you confronted him, wanting to have a serious conversation about his behaviour.
“what? but i didn’t do anything wrong” he told you, hands in his pockets.
he was stubborn, he knew that you were his weekends and wanted to tease you just a little bit.
“rafayel. i swear, you are going to sleep with the cat if you are not serious for at least 10 minutes”
and so he conformed, being to afraid to have you not sleeping with him at night and sleeping with that… monster instead.
“ok. ok. maybe i was doing it in purpose.”
after a kiss and a tight hug, you were defeated. he knew he was adorable and you couldn’t resist his charms, so he used it against you.
“ok fine. you win this time. but i’m still upset.”
“i know love. i’m sorry. i promise i’m not going to do that again. so now come here, i need you kisses or i might die!”
© 2024 gr1mstar — all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, translate, or claim my content as yours.
#zayne love and deepspace#love and deepspace smau#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#love and deepspace xavier#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#zayne x you#zayne x reader#zayne fluff#zayne#rafayel x you#rafayel x reader#rafayel#xavier x reader#xavier#hand cannon
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Bill Cipher Analysis Post ‼️
(I could be wrong about some things since the book is fresh, feel free to expand this post or correct me! May be a little edited as well!)
To start things off: William Mischief Cipher, (yes thats his actual name) is a dream demon from another dimension. To be specific, the second dimension.
Despite Bill being a literal shape— and also a demigod— it’s implied that Bill had a human-like childhood. He had a normal mother and father, he went to school, and overall seemed to have a normal life. The problem, however, was that he was born with powers completely unknown to his dimension.
Bills world was 2D, meaning there was no up or down. It’s hard for us to grasp the concept of his world, and its implied Bills dimension felt the same way about us. They couldn’t grasp the idea of other, less flat dimensions— but Bill could. Not only did he understand the concept, he could physically SEE the other dimensions— which drove him crazy with confusion and frustration.
It’s also implied that Bill was born with physical powers others in his dimension didn’t have— for example, there’s a line in the book where he remembers being bullied in school for having the ability to conjure fire.
It’s implied that Bill tried to tell everyone about the other dimensions, but they didn’t understand. The other people of his homeworld considered him troubled and insane. There’s a poem written in code on the silly straw page of his book detailing how he was fed medicine to keep his “visions” away, but would only drink it out of a silly straw. This poem implies he was a baby at the time of taking his medicine, implying further that his powers were terrifyingly strong even from an early age. This— paired with the fact he could shoot fire from his fuckin hands— made him dangerous as a child, because (at least from what it seems) any childish outburst or tantrum could accidentally turn dangerous from his lack of understanding or being able to control the powers he was born with. He was a walking time bomb.
“Eye doctor of a different kind who wants to make his patient blind / The doctor says three sips a day will make the visions go away / Fussy eater, baby billy, wouldn’t drink unless its silly.”
(((The doctor was taking away Bills ability to see the other dimensions, rendering him somewhat blind. Bill fussed about his medicine as a child and would only drink it out of a silly straw.)))
Eventually, Bill tried to bring his world into the third dimension— or at the very least, show them it exists to prove that he wasn’t insane. It’s unclear what exactly he did to try and accomplish this— but it went wrong and started a terrible fire that left only him alive.
It’s unclear whether or not he started the fire itself on purpose or on accident, but either way its implied that he absolutely didn’t understand the permanent consequences. It’s something that deeply traumatized him. It’s blurred out of his memory, and in denial, he pretends everyone is still alive. It’s up to the reader to determine whether or not he can be forgiven for this, but out of everything Bill has done on purpose and out of malice, this doesn’t seem to be one of those things. It seems he genuinely wanted to free his family from the confinements of his dimension and to this day he still pretends that’s what he did, even if that’s not the case. The regret of his actions is something that goes on to shape his character today.
“Twisted out of shape after the kill— the ghost of his family haunting him still” (((Silly straw page)))
Bill has lied about this day on multiple occasions, and has also lied about how he feels towards it. He’s terrified to face the guilt— so he either pretends he did it on purpose and doesn’t care, pretends something or someone else did it, or pretends it didn’t happen all together.
While talking to Stanford, he calls himself a monster. This is what he truly thinks of himself. However, he pretends to be a different person than himself. His entire life past the day of his dimensions burning has been a lie of pure denial.
On top of denial, he refused and still refuses to grow up. After running off into a crumbling dimension with his “henchmaniac” friends, he started acting like a rebellious teenager. Unlike most villains with a specific intent to hurt, he went throughout the universe with the sole intention of having as much fun as possible. However, with his terrifying power and uncaring nature many casualties happened on the side. He’s guilty for them, and even finds some of them funny, but hurting people wasn’t and isn’t his MAIN intent. (At least not most of the time. He IS known to hold grudges, or dismantle someone’s face for fun, but those things aren’t part of his overall goal. Not saying they aren’t shitty, but his main intent is important to understanding his character and complexity.)
His main goal is to distract himself from his past with as much chaos as possible while also seeking attention from anyone he can get it from. He talks about Stanford and says he needs Bill to boost his ego, but really it’s the other way around. Bill considers himself a product to sell, he caters to people by using false charisma, pretending they’re the ones that need him when in reality he’s starving for their praise. He is desperate for someone to speak highly of him because his mind has nothing good to say, all the words he says out loud are compensation. He believes deep down that nobody will love him if they know who he truly is and what he’s done— and he’s not really wrong. And look! He couldn’t even admit that’s how he feels about himself so he pretends he’s giving advice! (He does this SO MANY fuckin times in the book..)
It appears in the book that the more he regrets or suffers from his past actions and traumas— the more he hurts and destroys the things and people around him as a distraction— all under the ruse of “partying”. So, in an immature attempt to absolve himself of guilt, he stacks more guilt onto his endless cycle by continuing to hurt those he loves again and again— pretending not to care but truthfully caring so much that he’d do ANYTHING to drown out the feeling. Ironically, his way of drowning out his feelings is by causing more harm. He is an endless, pitiful paradox.
It’s often misunderstood that he is a uncaring, but that’s what he WANTS you to think. That’s what he WISHES he was. His guilt and remorse doesn’t absolve him from the things he’s done, but the fact that it’s there is a GIANT and IMPORTANT part of his character. He CAN feel empathy, sympathy, sentimentality, and ESPECIALLY regret. He may be a considered a sociopath, but this doesn’t mean he’s not a person with feelings as well.
He’s so distraught over losing Stanford that he drinks himself into a state of temporary amnesia that made him fall into a ptsd episode— his memory is so bad he ends up thinking he’s talking to his mother who’s been dead for probably millions of years.
This doesn’t excuse what he did to Ford AT ALL (I felt a little sick looking at the knuckles page..) but you can’t truly understand his character without understanding that he is LYING when he is cruel to Ford. And no, just because it’s a lie/front doesn’t mean he’s absolved from saying or doing something horrible, but it DOES mean he is unique and complex.
It’s perfectly reasonable to not forgive Bill for what he did to Ford, because it’s not really forgivable— but I also think it’s fair to explore the complexities of “evil” characters. SAYING A CHARACTER REGRETS THEIR ACTIONS DOESN’T MEAN I THINK THEY DESERVE FORGIVENESS!!! Especially in Bill’s case, considering that he PRETENDS to not be sorry, which makes him terrible even if he doesn’t mean what he’s saying. He might as well not be sorry at all HOWEVER!! It’s still important to distinguish him from a sociopathic stereotype— so I have to acknowledge that he’s a little sorry anyway, even if that regret is hidden away and doesn’t help literally anyone.
He values his own comfortability over the people he loves. Meaning he’ll always be cruel instead of apologizing because even if he’s truly sorry, he can’t handle the fact that he did something wrong in the first place— He’ll just play dumb.
At the end of the day, though— Bill is much more complicated than “Guy that just wants to explode people with his mind and take over the world”— I mean yes, he’s also that— but he also has hella bad ptsd and possible other mental issues that I’m not qualified to diagnose. He has a mother who he misses and a pain he carries with him.
None of the pain he harbors will ever justify the pain he’s caused— So no, I don’t think he’s ACTUALLY forgivable (though I may joke). However, in my opinion, I do think he’s redeemable! He’s going to live (or at least be in purgatory?) for millions of more years. He already got a punishment of literal death and has the empathy (somewhere) to continue forward and start fresh. He has thousands of years to heal from his trauma and wallow in what he’s done.
The Pines family may never forgive him, but out of the child-cartoony love in their hearts they offer him not forgiveness— but live and let live. (Well, at least Mabel does.. love you sweet girl.) If he goes around them they’ll beat his ass like in weirdmaggedon, but if he stays away, they will too. At the end of the day, he’s been stopped and they’re happy. If he is alive, (((or is going to be??))) he might as well heal.
And, well.. even if you think he doesn’t deserve that somewhat happy(?) ending, a redemption arc for him has been hinted at for years. Sorry, man. Respect to you and all but like… friendship is magic and the evil demigod is gonna start working at your local wendys once he’s outa space arkham. It’s just the way kids shows go, man.
(((Edited note: I apologize for my original wording when it came to “sociopath”— I wasn’t aware of its actual medical use and I should’ve done my research on that! I’ve changed this post to be more accurate in that regard, so if old reblogs look different it’s because they’re the original version.)))
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patches
synopsis: even though you’re both self-proclaimed enemies, they can’t bear to see you hurt. or in which, you show up at your enemies door all bloodied and bruised and they’re forced to take care of you
characters: xiao, gaming, alhaitham, and arlecchino x gn!reader (separately)
warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, injuries, crying, enemies to lovers, some of them are kinda mean, extremely mild misunderstandings, probably swearing idk
notes: i’m in a massive enemies to lovers kick right now omg you guys don’t understand. this was also inspired by arlecchino’s voiceline from a heavy hit or something where she says, “wanted my full attention, did you?” she’s so fine i’m sobbing 😖
Xiao:
It was a relatively quiet night before you showed up at Xiao’s room at the Wangshu Inn. For the first time in a while, he had felt a semblance of peace. That was until the indistinguishable scent of blood forced itself in his nose and a weak knock sounded at his door.
Xiao opens it immediately. He doesn’t care to know who it is, but rather what they want with him at nearly three in the morning. No one ever bothers Xiao this late. Not unless it was serious.
“What do you—“ he starts harshly but stops mid sentence when he recognizes your face. You’re doused in blood, your clothes all ripped up. And god, you look so weak it almost makes him feel bad for you. “Get inside,” he grabs your arm harshly, but still manages to avoid all your injuries.
You start to speak, but your mouth is full of blood too. He can barely understand what you’re saying aside from a bunch of nonsensical, I’m sorries. And if your injuries weren’t enough to show it, the fact that you’re apologizing to him at all tells him something is seriously wrong. Most of the time you talk to him it’s a bunch of insults thrown back and forth, some even result in physical fighting. Neither of you have been able to get along for centuries, yet here you are getting patched up in his house.
Xiao remains mostly silent as he sets you on the counter and pulls out his medical supplies. First he cleans up all the excess blood with a cloth before tossing it aside and moving to work on the actual injury itself. You can’t help but watch him, feeling nothing but shame as you do. You couldn’t help it. There was no one else you could think to go to.
“You are unbelievably weak and irresponsible. It’s idiotic to think you could ever handle anything in this world, not even a few monsters,” he grumbles between stitches, “Pathetic.”
You just stare at him as tears well up in your eyes. You aren’t one to cry. In fact, you can’t even remember the last time something so bad happened that you did. But sitting here, terrified of the monsters that had you within an inch of your life combined with Xiao’s cold words made you completely shatter inside and out.
Quietly, you sob into your other half-cleaned arm, “I know. You don’t have to say it.” You begin to get up right after, mumbling about it being a mistake coming here but he pushes your knee back down before you can fully stand up.
Xiao looks up surprised from where he sits as he does, his hands drop the thread and needle against the counter. Without word, he stands up and furrows his brows. “I should not have said what I said,” he practically whispers, a twinge of embarrassment hitting him too. A darker look shades his gentle amber irises as he stares into yours, “I don’t entirely dislike you. As stupid as your actions may have been, seeing you injured makes me…upset.”
“They weren’t normal monsters,” you breathe out between the remaining sobs that still involuntarily leave your mouth. You know you don’t owe him an explanation, but you figured you could at least make it known you weren’t taken out by some random hilichurls. “I was down in the Chasm. Those…things weren’t anything like I’ve ever seen before. I didn’t even have time to react.”
Xiao nods and places the last bandage on your face, “You shouldn’t go down there by yourself. It’s too dangerous. The last time I was there I hardly escaped.”
“What do you mean?” you raise a brow, your interest suddenly peaked. Xiao wipes the remaining tears off of your face in silence before turning to walk away.
“Call for me next time and I’ll be there.”
Gaming:
Gaming and you had gotten off on the wrong foot when you first met each other years ago. As children, you always felt like he stole your spotlight and he never seemed to care. And as you got older, it never seemed to go away. You constantly bickered and loathed having to see each other whenever one another’s name was brought up.
Yet whenever you got hurt, he was always the first person you went to. Although normally, it was for small things like paper cuts and bruised elbows. Not for your face having a cut so deep you could barely see and an arm twisted out of place like today.
“Fuck,” you mutter as you bang on his door, hoping it was the right one. There was too much blood in your eyes. Every door in the village looks the same right now, and even if it is the right one, you aren’t sure he’s even home. “Please be home,” you pace back and forth. Gaming stopped asking questions years ago when it first started.
You were forced to go with him after a group of bandits had found and beat you up, taking nearly everything you had in your bag. Gaming had found you while on delivery, and like the sweet guy he is, he stopped and helped you even though you could both barely stand each other. He didn’t want to see you dead either.
You weren’t often hurt, but it became somewhat of a cycle whenever you were. You were a nice person, well liked by most, but you also enjoyed stirring up trouble and it often landed you in some pretty hot water countless times. You knew Gaming wouldn’t say anything to anyone or turn you away like other people would. And above all, you like the kinder side of him whenever he patched you up, which he was good at too.
“Gaming!” your fist pounds on the door again. It’s almost nightfall and a few villagers have begun staring. You almost go to knock again, but your body begins to give out. You mumble a few more curse words before the door opens and you fall forward, directly onto the very person you were looking for.
“Ow ow ow, oh my god my arm!”
“Sorry! Is that blood?! What happened to you?”
“I don’t know! Ask the guys who thought my joke wasn’t funny.”
Gaming picks you up off the floor in a state of panic and rushes you to the bathroom. Luckily for you both, his dad isn’t home to see all of this.
Gaming begins to wipe the blood off your face and examine the cut that runs all the way from your forehead to your cheek, narrowly missing your eye. “This is bad,” he says and begins rummaging through his drawers for medical supplies.
You scoff, “Yeah, you think?”
“You didn’t have to come here, you know. You should’ve gone to a doctor,” he bites back nicely. Sometimes you wish he would just be a little meaner to you. It was easier to hate him that way.
You quiet down and let him take care of your face, “I’m sorry. You’re the only one who I can actually trust to take care of me.”
Gaming hides a small smile while avoiding eye contact with you. Not that you could even see, but just in case. He’d never admit it, but he actually really enjoys when you go to him for help. He’s never resented you like you’ve resented him, but he never bothered to change it either. Somehow he hoped bandaging you up would make you change your mind about him.
“It’s alright,” he says softly, pouring disinfectant onto a small cloth and wiping the cut gently. You wince and he places a hand on your upper arm to silently comfort you, “If you want some good news, you don’t need stitches on your face.”
You breathe out a sigh of relief, having always hated needles, “Thank god.”
“But you will have to see a doctor for your arm. There’s no way for me to fix that on my own,” he says bashfully, “I can maybe…take you if you’d like?”
You peer up at him, shocked at the question. Perhaps this could be a new start between the two of you, and you’re not so against it.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
Alhaitham:
It’s pouring outside when Alhaitham hears banging on his front door. At first, he ignores it thinking it was just Kaveh forgetting his keys again and he doesn’t care enough to let him in. But the banging persists and then comes the faint sound of pained sobs.
He slams his book shut and groans as he gets up and trudges angrily to the door. He swings it open only to be met with the sight of you clutching your waist, barely keeping yourself standing as the rain envelopes you.
“Please,” you whisper weakly.
Alhaitham scoffs, “Really? I’m not a doctor, go somewhere else.” He begins to shut the door, and he almost does so successfully before you collapse on the floor, blood beginning to mix with the puddle outside his door. And there’s a lot of it.
The next thing you know, you’re in your least favorite scholar’s arms as he carries you to his room. He sets you on a chair and you take the time to take in what his room looks like. It isn’t much different than you expected, yet you never thought you’d see it.
“Don’t move. I don’t want you making any more of a mess than you already have,” he sneers, walking off to the bathroom connected to his room to grab out a small bag of medical supplies. When he returns you’re blankly staring ahead of you, barely conscious as tears start running down your face. It’s like you don’t even know you’re crying. Alhaitham stares at you for a moment in utter disbelief before snapping in your face, “Take your shirt off.”
“Huh?” you snap out of your daze, confusedly wiping your tears as you do so. A few sniffles leave your nose as you do so.
“Do you want help or not?” he snaps again, losing his patience with you. He’s beginning to seriously regret not leaving you on his doorstep. You quickly follow his instructions, taking off your shirt to reveal a huge cut stemming from one side of your stomach to the other.
Alhaitham’s eyes slightly widen in shock, and he almost can’t pull them away. For a brief moment, you even catch them soften but it’s fleeting and doesn’t give you enough time to register that maybe the stoic scribe really does care for you, even just a little bit.
You both sit in complete silence as he begins working. You catch his eyes every so often, but he quickly looks back down at the injury before either of you can speak on it.
“Who was it?” Alhaitham grumbles as he finishes wrapping it up, his arms wrapped around your waist. The feeling of his hands distracts you from the question.
“What?”
“The people that did this. Who was it?” he repeats it, more anger this time around. You shake your head and look off to the side.
“I don’t know. It was too dark to get a good look at them,” you try to explain, but Alhaitham doesn’t have any of it. You’re not sure why, but he doesn’t seem like the normal him. The guy that normally finds any and every chance to torment you.
He gets up and grabs the bag, noting something down on a nearby piece of paper and shoving it in the left pocket of his pants before angrily walking out the door of his bedroom, “I’ll be back.”
“Wait! Don’t go,” Your hand reaches out and grabs his. You pull back suddenly, not realizing how impulsive your decision was until it was too late. You go to mumble a sorry, but before you can, you find your hand back in his.
You stare at him in shock, but he just squeezes your shaking hand. “Stay here,” he says somehow both coldly and warmly at once, pulling the blankets back and gesturing to his bed, “I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Where are you going?”
“To deal with the people that hurt you.”
Arlecchino:
You wince as the door swings open aggressively, not expecting Arlecchino to open the door before you could even think to knock.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, squinting her eyes so as to scale you up and down. For a moment, they linger over your bloodstained clothes and the already bruising cuts that litter your body. You don’t notice the way they widen in shock for a moment, too distracted by the adrenaline wearing off.
You still manage to crack an arrogant smile and sarcastically mutter, “Couldn’t think of anyone worth patching me up but you.”
Without waiting for a response, you push past her figure and let yourself inside already knowing where the infirmary is. Although, you don’t make it two steps before your legs give out and your body tumbles toward the hardwood floors.
The clicking of heels stops from just beside you before a strong hand grips your arm and aggressively pulls you up, “Don’t dirty my floors. The children worked hard to clean those today.”
“Yeah? Well they can clean them again tomorrow,” you grumble and weakly attempt to push her hand off of your body. Arlecchino doesn’t budge, however. She instead drags you all the way to the infirmary and sets you down on one of the beds.
“Wow these are surprisingly comfortable. Didn’t know you had it in you to be so accommodating to all the children you like to hold hostage,” you tease to keep yourself from focusing on the pain. She ignores you and instead places a firm hand on your uninjured chest and slams your back against the bed.
Immediately, she begins working on all the little cuts and gently wipes all the blood away, saving your bigger injuries to be dealt with in a moment. For now, she didn’t mind if you suffered for a little longer.
“So,” Arlecchino starts after a few minutes of silence, finally deeming it worthy to have a real conversation with you, “was this your way of getting my full attention? If you wanted me to notice you, you should have just said something.”
“What? No! I got attacked, I wasn’t trying to ‘get your attention’ or whatever.”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
“I really wasn’t,” you cross your arms and turn your head away from her, “I was scared, you know? I didn’t know who else to go to. Make fun of me all you want, but it’s the truth.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
She doesn’t say anything more after the conversation takes its turn. You’re glad she doesn’t, not wanting to engage in the horrible embarrassment you already felt from having to show up here anyway. She was the last person you’d want to have see your weakness, yet here you are covered in the House of the Hearth’s bandages.
When Arlecchino is done with stitching up your leg, she moves to your face and gently brushes away the blood. And cut by cut, she heals each one and leaves you feeling brand new again. You stare up at her for a brief moment, unable to look anywhere else when the red X’s in her eyes are so focused on you.
“So who did it?” She asks suddenly, her tone a little more caring than before. It almost shocks you, but then again, deep down you knew she cared more than she let on. No matter how much either of you didn’t get along, you always had her back. Even if she didn’t know it. You always liked the think that she had yours too.
You sigh and scribble down a few names on a nearby clipboard left by the bed, “That’s only a few of them…the ones I was able to get talking before everything happened. I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding their leader though.”
Her eyes scan over the paper before she glances back at you and nods. She begins to walk away but stops at the doorway and calls out over her shoulder, “I’ll be back in the morning. My room is on the second floor, last door at the end of the hall. I expect to find you resting there when I return.”
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact fanfiction#xiao#xiao x y/n#xiao x you#xiao x reader#gaming#gaming x reader#gaming x you#gaming x y/n#alhaitham#alhaitham x y/n#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x reader#arlecchino#arlecchino x reader#arlecchino x you#arlecchino x y/n
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subby vampire x dom male reader pt 2 pt 1
thank u guys for liking kliff!! he's so baby. felt kinda mean and thought about a scenario where reader is like, a regular monster fucker and poor kliff finds out he hooked up with another vampire and gets super jealous teehee... but this is wholesome tho.
content: reader is kind of a player, blowjob (reader receiving), reader loves tormenting the poor old man, more plot-focused than pure smut
★ ; 🦇🍷. . ♱
after visiting kliff at his crumbling manor a few more times, you decided that you were getting tired of making the trip out into the woods everytime, and invited him over to your house instead, an invitation he eagerly accepted. though he kept a calm composure, inwardly, his thoughts were running wild - he would finally be able to bask in a whole home full of your scent.... maybe even steal a few small trinkets he could toy with whenever he felt lonely... or... or even get a feel of your bed, where he fantasised about waking up next to you and spending the rest of his days as your faithful househusband. oh, how delightful.
"thank you ever so much for allowing me to enter your abode. i am most honoured." thanking you profusely, he elegantly sat down on your sofa, only to immediately scrunch up his face in discomfort. you stared at him, puzzled. "what's wrong? you don't like my home?"
"no, no... it's not that... it's just that... this scent is so familiar. in an unnverving way..." he mumbled, talking to himself. suddenly, a look of recognition, mixed with horror, dawned on his face. "correct me if i'm wrong, but... there's not a chance you've had another vampire over.... is there?"
"oh! i forgot you vampires have a heightened sense of smell. yeah, i hooked up with another vampire like, 3 weeks ago." you said nonchantly, like it was the most insignificant thing ever. kliff merely gaped at you, aghast at your casualness. "so... so... i'm not your first vampire relationship?" he asked meekly, almost like he was afraid of the answer.
"well, yes. i dated, hmm...." you start to list them on your fingers. "two vampires, one werewolf, one merman... oh, right, and one evil ass fairy. he was mean."
poor kliff looked like he was about to collapse, his hand clutching his chest dramatically. thankfully he was sitting down, otherwise he would have fallen over. "where on earth do you even find these creatures?"
"i get around."
"and you never thought to mention this?!"
"i mean, i didn't really think it was important..."
kliff sighed, suddenly feeling a little insecure at his complete lack of romantic experience in contrast to your many flings. "may i at least see what your past vampire suitors looked like?" he didn't want to admit it, but he was suddenly feeling very clingy, even more than usual. he had to be better than all your exes! so that you wouldn't leave him like you left them!
"sure. here you go." you pull out your phone and show him a picture, only for kliff to gasp loudly and clutch his chest even tighter. what a drama queen.
"HIM."
"you know him??"
"that little whore was going around sleeping with every man and woman in town a hundred years ago! i cannot BELIEVE he is still so promiscuous in this day and age. he even seduced you..."
"woah! language, kliff!"
kliff stops mid-ramble and clears his throat in embarassment. "my apologies. this is most uncouth of me. i do not know why i am getting so frustrated over this. the two of you are not seeing each other anymore, correct?"
"yes. you're the only one i'm seeing right now."
"and, if i may be so bold to inquire,,,, how was he like as a lover?"
"he was kinda annoying." kilff let a smirk escape his lips upon hearing this. "i knew it-" "the head was good though."
"what- what does 'head' mean?"
"he sucked my dick." you say bluntly.
"oh, good heavens."
"don't be a prude! wait... kliff, are you jealous of him?"
"i most certainly am not."
"at your big age? please be serious." you tease, amused at how possessive he suddenly got.
"do NOT make fun of me. i said i'm not." the pout adorning his face said otherwise.
kliff barely noticed it, but slowly he inched closer and closer to you, eyes scanning your neck as he frantically searched for bite marks.
"did he bite you anywhere? did it hurt? you must know, i would never even consider drinking from you, right?" he took your hand, eyes searching desperately for validation, any form of praise that indicated you thought he was the better vampire.
you rolled your eyes. "jeez, kliff. i didn't take you for the possessive type. don't worry, none of my previous vampire lovers have drunk from me."
that did little to reassure him, since he was on the same page. "then... then... i must be better at this 'head' thing!" he declares, face full of misplaced determination. you almost double over laughing.
"it's not a competition! my god, you're so unserious."
"it does not matter to me! i must be better than that lustful shame of a vampire at every aspect. especially since we are of the same species."
"okay, okay. calm down. i'll let you try."
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
"just let me know you can't breathe or whatever. i'll guide you through your first time, yeah?" kliff nods, a blush extremely prominent on his undead features as he knelt between your thighs. he quite enjoyed this... submissive position.
"also- watch the fangs." the authoritative, yet gentle tone of your voice sent shivers down his spine.
he himself could be considered a monster, but he paled in comparison to the monster that sprung out of your pants once he clumsily undid the zipper. kliff gasped, a look of pure lust and nervousness written all over his expression as your slightly erect cock hovered over his face.
"so... basically... you just put it inside your mouth, then start sucking it. easy enough, right? come on, don't tell me you've never heard of a blowjob in your entire existence."
"of course i have..... i admit, i own quite a bit of... erotic fiction." he mumbles, eyes still on your cock, cheeks growing redder by the second. "but, goodness, it's so different seeing a real phallus up close. especially one of your size."
"phallus??? just say cock."
"mhm...." he hesitates, unsure where to even begin. flustered, he looks up imploringly, silently begging for you to guide him.
you chuckle at his frozen state, completely at a loss on what to do. "so needy. i'll help you."
tenderly, you run a hand through his soft hair, applying just a little bit of power to tug his head forward, guiding him to your tip. obediently, he opened his mouth, taking the shaft inside. it was warm, his rough tongue grazing over your tip, causing you to grip his hair a little tighter. kliff let out a masochistic moan in response. slowly, he ventured further down your length, but unable to reach the base without gagging. he looked up at you with apologetic eyes, but you squeezed his shoulder to let him know he was doing well. "good job, kliff. you're a natural." spurred on by your praise, kliff found a lewd rhythm, mouth bobbing up and down in a continuous passionate attempt to make you feel good.
your small grunts of pleasure kept him going. panting, you ask, "you sure you've never done this before, kliff? you're so good." he frantically shakes his head, mouth still full of cock, as if the idea that he engaged in such intimate acts with anyone but you was horrifying. he was loyal like that. it was intoxicating, the head only vampires could provide - fangs lightly grazing your cock's sensitive areas, the slight thrill unmatched. merman head was sloppy, werewolf head was rough, but vampire head was a little dangerous. you liked that.
soon enough, you were about to cum. you warned him, patting his shoulder twice, he vigorously nodded, giving you permission to cum inside his mouth. he'd only ever been used to having blood in his mouth, so having your cum inside instead was a new experience. but he liked it. maybe a little too much, as he swallowed it so enthusiastically. you gazed upon him affectionately, finding his virgin excitement over such lewd matters endearing.
"how was i?" the breathless question hung in the air, a reminder of the atmosphere thick with your intertwined tension.
cupping his face with one hand, the other stroking his hair soothingly, you muttered the words he most wanted to hear. "you were better than him."
kliff jumps into your arms, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. "thank you. you're the absolute best." he's so content to spend the rest of his days with you. treat him with care, yeah?
>ᵥᵥ< 💘
tags: @4eaever @szapizzapanda @flyingsquids @vampmasc
omg i'm so happy with this one, one of my fav writings i've ever done so far. i felt like i characterised kliff and captured their dynamic quite well here hehehe
#dom male reader#top male reader#male reader#vampire x reader#vampire x male reader#monster x reader#monster x male reader#vampire x human#vampire imagine#wrioluvr: kliff
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❥ sfw & n$fw headcanons - tobio kageyama
warnings: timeskip! kageyama, fem! reader, sub-leaning switch, mentions of thighs and breasts, slight degrading, nursing(?) kink, hickeys, cowgirl position
MDNI | 18+ content
word count -> 990
a/n: sooo sorry for not writing for a while lmao, enjoy! sorry if he's ooc too :(
SFW
❥ This poor boy doesn’t know how to communicate his feelings properly. It was a lot of guesswork when you first started dating because Tobio was so hopelessly awkward and embarrassed around you. Was he scared he would mess up? Absolutely. He’s scared of pretty girls.
❥ Will not shut up about volleyball when he’s around you like at all. He talks and talks about his sets, and it’s so adorable, but sometimes you just have to shut him up with a kiss because once he gets started, it’s impossible for him to stop.
❥ Speaking of kisses, he nearly died when you kissed him for the first time. It was only a soft peck on the lips, but his face got so red you thought he was going to pass out. All he mumbled was a “thanks” before standing up and shuffling to the kitchen to get a huge glass of water.
❥ Jealous. Tobio is incredibly jealous, especially when you talk with his Alders teammates. When you visit him after his practices or games, his arm is tightly wrapped around your waist as his thumb massages it. He isn’t big on PDA, so that’s the closest he’ll ever get to it. Luckily for him, Ushijima is clueless, and Hoshiumi just wants to run around and spike the balls. But does Tobio know that? No.
❥ Constantly worries for you more than he worries for himself. Although he’s taken several volleyballs to the face in his career, he’s always worried about you. If you stubbed your toe on a table, you would never see that table again because he’s putting it out on the curb to be picked up by the trash company. And you aren’t allowed to be in the nosebleeds when you attend his games because what if you’re a victim of a shitty serve?
❥ Follows the sidewalk rule. That’s it.
❥ Will happily pay for anything you want because he has no concept of money. So what if it’s expensive? If you want it, he’s buying it. He can worry about the gas bill later.
❥ Is always the big spoon when you cuddle, no matter what. It makes him feel better when you’re wrapped in his strong arms at night, protecting you from any monsters. Plus, he’s addicted to kissing your shoulders. He just thinks they’re so cute.
❥ His older sister, Miwa, is obsessed with you and is always texting you to hang out at bars or to look at the latest release of makeup products with her.
N$FW
❥ Submissive-leaning switch. He loves when you climb on top of him and ride him, but he’ll top if he really feels like it, or if you piss him off.
❥ Use. Him. Nothing gets him off more than his body being a vessel for your pleasure. Sit on his face, and ride his cock until he can’t cum anymore. He doesn’t care. He wants to be used.
❥ So fucking vocal during sex that you’ve gotten noise complaints. You have to cover his mouth when you’re on top because this motherfucker is so loud when he cums.
❥ Thigh guy. This man loves your thighs. Please, please squeeze his face when he’s eating your pussy and he could die happy. Wrap your legs around his waist when you’re making out and it will drive him wild. Let him leave hickeys on your inner thighs because it’ll be your dirty little secret.
❥ Cowgirl is his favorite position because it makes him feel like he’s not in control. While he loves to be in control on the court, he doesn’t want to be able to think when in the bedroom. All he wants to feel is absolute euphoria when you take control and fuck him. Plus, the sight of your tits bouncing in his face is a bonus.
❥ Isn’t that experimental in the bedroom, even if you want to try something new. He likes what he likes and that’s that. Sure, it may be extremely vanilla but if it works, it works.
❥ A god with his fingers. It’s no secret that setters must be highly skilled with their hands, and Tobio is no exception. His setting skills translate incredibly well in the bedroom. He knows where the clit is and has his thumb rubbing small circles on it as his middle and ring finger curl so perfectly inside of you that it makes you see stars.
❥ Praise him after he cums and he’s ready for round two within seconds. Tobio thrives off of praise and will do anything to get more of it. He’ll happily eat you out for hours on end as long as you call him a good boy.
❥ Loves sucking on titties, no matter the size. Boobs are boobs.
❥ Not that great at aftercare but he does get you a glass of water.
❥ “Holy fuck, you feel so good. Yeah, fucking ride me. Yeah.”
❥ “I’ll be so good for you baby, please let me cum again. I’ll be your good boy.”
❥ “You like it when I fuck you with my fingers, yeah? Fucking cum on them again, dirty girl. Maybe then I’ll fuck you with my cock like you’ve been begging me to.”
❥ “I wanna suck on your pretty tits, please baby? Wanna suck on your tits while you bounce on my cock, don’t I deserve it? I’ve been so good.”
❥ “Use me, sit on my face and use me! Oh, fuck, just like that baby. Yeah, use me, milk me dry. I’m yours to use.”
❥ “You thought walking around in those tights all day was a good idea, babe? That’s cute. Get on the bed and spread those slutty little legs so I can mark you like the good little slut you are.”
❥ “P-please, I can’t cum anymore! No, no, stop! Oh, oh fuck yes.”
#haikyuu smut#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#kageyama x reader smut#kageyama tobio#kageyama x reader#kageyama smut#tobio kageyama x reader
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𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅!𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 ⛧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄
꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Everyone told stories of his kind, but you chose to ignore them. You got so used to how tame your werewolf boyfriend acted around you that you forgot how dangerous he is. But when a full moon rises, his instincts become undeniable, and you quickly learn what he's truly capable of. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, hunter/prey, size difference, forbidden romance ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.3k words
༺ Art ༻
⇢ Chapter two ⇢ Chapter three ⇢ Kinktober Masterlist
This is unusual behavior for your boyfriend. You haven't heard from him in days.
It's only been a couple of weeks that you've officially been his partner, but enough time has gone by that you feel like you know him enough to know this isn't normal.
Maybe that's just how werewolves are? You've never gotten close to a monster before, let alone a species that has a reputation for being dangerous to humans. But you never cared, you started having feelings for Gyutaro after the first time you met him. Everyone talks about how dangerous his kind is. But how could you resist those big fluffy ears, yellow golden eyes, and a mouth full of sharp teeth?
He may look like a big scary wolf, but around you, he acts like a golden retriever. Always so sweet and happy to be in your presence. All you have to do is walk into the room and his tail starts wagging.
He just can't help himself, you were the first person that didn't treat him like an outcast.
As Gyutaro got older he started to realize that he was destined to be alone. The chances of him finding a mate within his species were slim to none. A female would never accept him as a suitable partner due to his appearance. The spots on his face and body were something that no one was willing to pass on in their bloodline. It seemed like a silly concept to you, but for werewolves, these things are very important.
So when Gyutaro started having feelings for you he was more than happy to give your relationship a shot regardless of you being a human.
You never felt accepted by other humans, and he never felt accepted by other wolves. So when the two of you met it was like you finally found someone that understood you. However, both of you knew that your relationship was forbidden and would never be accepted, so you'd meet in secret.
He usually hangs out around your house after midnight, waiting for you so the two of you can disappear into the woods. Or at the very least, if the two of you aren't able to spend time together, he'll leave little gifts at your doorstep. Wildflowers, shiny rocks, or even the occasional dead rodent.
But it's been days since you've seen him or received any of his unusual gifts. It's like he just disappeared.
And now you're left a worried mess. He's never gone so long without speaking to you, it makes you think that maybe something happened to him.
In a last-ditch effort to find him, you search in the woods behind your house. Knowing that he loves running around and exploring there, it's the only place you might be able to find him at this time of night.
"Gyutaro!" you call out as you walk through the forest.
As you go deeper, you begin to hear what sounds like howling.
"That must be him!" you gasp, running towards the sound.
Once you get closer the howling stops and he picks up on your scent. Yellow eyes look back at you from within the trees.
"Gyu!" you smile and run towards him, "I was so worried about you!"
But he says nothing and just stares at you with wide eyes - panting like a stressed animal.
"Wh-what's going on...?" you say as you look at the strange scene before you.
Gyutaro has a chain attached to his collar and is tied to a large tree. It's sad to see him chained up like some kind of pet.
You can't tell if someone did this to him or if he did it to himself. There's no sign of anyone else, but you can't imagine why he would chain himself to a tree like that.
You reach out your hand and he immediately lunges forward with barred fangs. Looking like a feral stray as he snaps at you. But the chain chokes him, preventing him from getting to you.
"What the hell has gotten into you?" you mutter as your eyes begin to water.
Never have you seen him behave this way towards you. He's usually so gentle and sweet, you would have thought he wasn't capable of showing violence. However, at the end of the day, you know what he is and you should never forget what he's capable of.
And that's when you notice it. The full moon peeking from above the trees. How could you have been so naive?
Gyutaro must've chained himself up to protect you, knowing that he'd go feral on a full moon... and who knows what he may do to you.
Your stomach drops and your blood runs cold. Looking down at Gyutaro as he snarls and claws at the dirt, trying to get to you. You don't want to imagine what he will do to you if he breaks loose. He has a wild look in his eye, unlike anything you've ever seen before and it strikes fear into you.
You can hear the metal of the chain bending, it will snap any moment now.
You don't have any time to think about your boyfriend, this thing is no longer your boyfriend. For all you know, he could kill you if he gets loose.
Run. Run. Run. That's all you can think about as your fight or flight response kicks in. And you're sprinting deeper into the forest before you even realize it.
The branches cutting your skin as you run through the trees don't even bother you. You just need to get away from him.
After running what you consider to be a good distance, you look back to see that Gyutaro is gone and the chain lies snapped on the ground.
"Shit," you curse under your breath, realizing the danger that you're in. You have no other option but to keep running, and running, and running until you can't feel your feet anymore and your lungs burn.
A twig snaps, and you instantly turn to see those beautiful yellow eyes looking back at you. Stalking you like prey.
It only makes things worse when you run, causing his hunting instincts to kick in even more. In his eyes he no longer sees his girlfriend, all he sees is prey.
You cry and sob as he chases you, knowing that it won't be long until he catches up to you. And you're right, he quickly pounces on you. Trapping you beneath his large muscular body, looking down at you with hunger in his eyes. The size difference alone is enough to make you freeze with fear. It never dawned on you just how much larger he is than you. And as you lay there helplessly pinned beneath him you realize just how terrifying a seven-foot-tall werewolf can be.
"G-Gyutaro, please!" you sob, "It's me, Y/N! I'm your girlfriend, remember?" You desperately try to remind him of who you are, make him remember that he would never hurt his precious girlfriend.
But he doesn't remember, and even if he did he wouldn't care. Because the full moon makes him go feral and blindly follow his instincts.
From this angle, he no longer looks like your boyfriend. He looks like a monster. The monster that everyone said he was, but you never listened. Maybe if you did you wouldn't be in this situation right now.
Drool drips down his chin as he snarls, showing off his mouth full of razor-sharp teeth that could easily wrap around your pretty little neck. He breathes heavily, panting as the fur on the back of his neck stands on end. He looks like he wants to devour you, but he doesn't.
For a moment you're confused. But then you see it.
The erection between his legs - so painfully hard that it's ripping the seams of his pants.
You thought that he wanted to eat you, but you were wrong. He wants to breed you.
#gyutaro#gyutaro shabana#gyuutarou#gyutaro x reader#gyutaro x y/n#gyuutarou x reader#gyutaro smut#gyutaro fanart#kny x reader#demon slayer x reader#kny smut#demon slayer smut#kinktober#kinktober 2024
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the touden party with an innkeeper! reader
synopsis - The Touden party was not an unfamiliar name to you due to the gossip other parties shared amongst themselves about the siblings and their oddball group. However, you thought the gossip was a bit over dramatic, finding them to be quite the pleasant guests whenever they visited your inn.
Overtime, you got sucked into their stories from the dungeon floors and even heard how they prepped monster food. Although they weren’t the most normal party you have ever seen, you grew a tight bond with each party member.
pairings - laios x reader / chilchuck x reader / marcille x reader / senshi & reader / izutsumi & reader
warnings - characters may be ooc..
“You guys were able to eat living armor!? That’s so weird but cool!”
“I know right! You’d think they were inedible, but they actually have a type of mollusk in them!--”
“--I’ll make sure to bring some up next time so I can show you how we cooked it!”
“Really!? I look forward to tasting it!”
✤✤✤✤
✢ You grew curious of the leader of the Touden party, often finding yourself spending more time with him after dinner to talk about different things
✢ He was so full of personality that you couldn’t help but get drawn in to him– cooking his favorite meals, indulging in his monster facts, and helping him think of different ways some monsters could be cooked
✢ The stories he shared from his encounters in the dungeon often left you wondering, what would it be like if you were part of his party? (You would shake your head to rid of those thoughts, fully knowing that you would be useless if it came to fighting/supporting)
✢ When you heard of Falin’s disappearance and his ambitions, you were distraught yet worried for his well-being– what if he didn’t succeed?
✢ A small part of you wanted to discourage him from the idea, for what if it would be all for nothing? Yet, the larger part of you had hope that he could do it, so you offered your support for him and his party if it meant ensuring their well-being (before they head off)
✢ Considering that they usually spend weeks in the dungeon, you’d often daydream about the tall blond whenever you did your chores
✢ People would catch you lost in the clouds, so you’d quickly become embarrassed when someone would say something
✢ When the time comes for their expected return, you had already set up each room accordingly and prepared a meal for all of them
✢ At some point, when Laios returns, you’d leave a small note and a gift for the man confessing your feelings (he finds it on the bed and thought that you had forgotten it when cleaning it)
✢ Needless to say, Laios wouldn’t be able to look at you, face turning a pretty pink when he’s reminded of your feelings for him
✢ Of course, he expresses his own thoughts and emotions in his own way, so it’d take some time before he approaches you with a determined gleam in his eyes
✢ In his eyes, he believes that you would make a wonderful partner, your caring attitude making him feel all the more fuzzy
✢ Expect him to be spending a lot of time with you during his stays, as he knows that eventually he’ll have to return back to the dungeon depths
✢ At some point, Laios requests that he sleeps in your room during his stays, which you happily oblige
✢ Whenever he comes back from the dungeon, he always has a gift for you (whether it’s some sort of relic, flower/plant, or ingredient that you two could experiment with)
✢ Eventually, Laios would love to settle down with you after he has gotten his sister back
“My party members are all idiots, _____.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just look at them! sigh I’ll take another round of ale.”
“Ehh– they seem fine to me, but whatever you say, Chil.”
✤✤✤✤
✢ When you first met Chilchuck.. he was quite the hot-headed yet reliable person, always complaining about certain events that happened during their dungeon run (You hear a lot about his party members lol)
✢ Over time, you understood his behavior and could see that despite his mean words and actions, he really did care for his friends
✢ You really admired his stern yet caring nature, always scolding those closest to him with good intentions
✢ Chilchuck didn’t really give you much attention at first, only treating you with basic human decency
✢ But the more his party stayed at your inn, the more he began to make light conversations with you, slowly evolving into deep and meaningful discussions that would last into the early hours of the morning
✢ He starts appreciating your presence more and more with each visit, offering to help you make dinner, chatting with you as you both cleaned the dishes… It felt rather intimate, doing this domestic things with you
✢ When Chilchuck notices that he’s developing feelings for you, he’s overcome with fear and anxiety
✢ He wanted to avoid the potential heartbreak, for he knew all too well what it felt like when he and his wife divorced
✢ Despite his sudden distancing and coldness, you’d probably corner him one night to confront him about his recent behavior
✢ Chilchuck’s resolve would soon crumble, explaining his recent actions and confessing his feelings for you with a downcast gaze (He doesn’t expect you to reciprocate)
✢ To his surprise, you do!
✢ Chilchuck would definitely come around more often whenever he has the free time, helping you around the inn and recounting recent events that happened while they were exploring the deeper levels of the dungeon…
✢ You’re quite familiar with his alcoholism, always being there to take care of him when he’s had a little too much to drink…
✢ He can be quite clingy while drunk, so expect to be his body pillow for the next 8 hours
✢ When he plans to open up his shop, you’re there to support him while also taking care of the inn (Maybe the two could go hand in hand…)
“_____! I can’t wait to taste your cooking, it’ll be the first normal meal I’ve ever had in weeks!”
“I'm sure Senshi’s cooking makes the monster ingredients seem more digestible, Marci.”
“NO IT DOESN’T!!”
✤✤✤✤
✢ Marcille always made you chuckle to yourself at her expressive attitude, always openly displaying her dislike or favor towards something
✢ She was easy to read at times, her heart always on her sleeve
✢ She was a pleasant guest to have at your inn, always offering help when it seemed like you needed it but you could never put a guest to work
✢ Yet you always find yourself choked up, unable to say ‘no’ to her offers…
✢ You make sure that her room has things that you know she would like, her previous visits providing you experience
✢ Whenever Marcille comes back from the dungeon, she always pulls you into a hug and cries about how happy she is to eat your home cooked meals again
✢ When you both have free time, she is happy to recount the events from the dungeon and is willing to teach you simple spells (that may prove beneficial since you run the inn)
✢ If you were ever to accidentally nick yourself when cutting a vegetable (or get hurt in general), she’d be there to help cast a healing spell on you
✢ You take note of her motherly behavior, especially with the way she is around Izutsumi
✢ Compliment her, and you’ll get a bashful Marci who tries to play it off (but deep down she’s internally screaming)
✢ She’s never afraid to show you her affectionate and doting side, always picking up things from the dungeon floors to give to you
✢ She absolutely refuses to introduce you to monster food.
✢ If you were to confess your feelings for her one night after dinner, she’d sputter and almost let the plate slip out of her hand, catching it quickly so it doesn’t break into tiny pieces
✢ Eventually, she would recompose herself and give you her own thoughts and emotions, concluding it with a flustered glance and a smile
✢ She could almost feel her heart bursting out of her chest at your confession, feeling as if she were going to faint on the spot
✢ Nonetheless, she’s really happy and would always look forward to her return to the surface
“Welcome back! You brought the ingredients, Senshi?”
“Sure did, ready to start cookin’?”
“You bet!”
✤✤✤✤
✢ Senshi was such a pleasant surprise when he suddenly popped into your inn with the Touden party
✢ You’ve never seen the man before, but his amazing beard and mustache are enough to capture your eye (They look very fluffy!)
✢ You learn from him the adventures that the group had faced, as well as the different meals they had in the dungeon
✢ Hearing of the ingredients he used had left you fascinated, wondering just how he was able to make use of such.. exotic creatures
✢ You would honestly take notes as he explains, always butting in with your own questions which he’s happy to answer
✢ You always learn something new from him everyday.. hm…
✢ Despite you being a responsible adult, he would still see you as a youngin’, always making sure that you’re taking care of yourself as well (and not just your guests)
✢ The two of you slowly develop a fatherly relationship, with Senshi helping you cook, clean, and take care of his party members
✢ You’re truly grateful for his help but tell him that he doesn’t need to go through all the trouble, which he declines and continues about his business anyway
✢ If you wanted to try a specific monster, he’d happily cook it for you and the party one night at the inn
✢ Senshi admires your hard working spirit, always giving you his thanks and compliments
✢ He would rarely stay at the inn and instead stay within the dungeon, but he wouldn’t mind stopping by every now and then, especially with his party
✢ It’s always a joy having Senshi around, and he thinks the same for you
“How have you been, Izutsumi? Anything interesting in the dungeon?”
“..Nah, it was pretty lame for the most part… But at least I got into some action!”
“Hmm? Tell me more about it at dinner! I cooked your favorite.”
✤✤✤✤
✢ At first, Izutsumi was.. reclusive
✢ Always keeping to herself and only interacting with those if she needs to, but she was a bit different when it came to her party members
✢ You noticed how she seemed to have opened up to her fellow members, speaking her mind and becoming much more expressive
✢ She didn’t say much to you at first, but over time, she slowly began to warm up to you
✢ Despite her openly making conversation with you whenever she comes back from the dungeon (or whatever it is that she’s doing), she still keeps her distance just a bit
✢ You’re determined to get to know her, but you’ll never force her to do something she wouldn’t like
✢ You are aware of her table mannerisms and pickiness, yet you don’t mind, always finding a meal that she would enjoy
✢ Eventually her table mannerisms would get better with the help of you and her party members
✢ You never cared much for the fact that she was a beastkin, instead welcoming her with open arms to the inn when she first came
✢ Sometimes you would find her room a mess, some scratches lingering on the desk or drawers.. you’d give her a small scolding later
✢ Izutsumi honestly sees you as her mother/older sister figure, always doting and caring for her even if she didn’t want it (She’ll never tell you)
✢ At one point she probably called you ‘mom’ by accident, immediately running back to her room to hide away from you for the rest of the day until dinner comes around
✢ She has her walls built up around her but they eventually begin to crumble the more she talks with you over dinner or at night when she can’t sleep
✢ Depending on how she’s feeling, she’d be interested in your history and why you continue to manage this inn, seeing it as a boring job
✢ Izutsumi comes to understand you after a while, and eventually when she returns back to the surface, she finds herself anticipating your presence and meals
#writing➠#dunmeshi#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dunmeshi x reader#dungeon meshi x reader#delicious in dungeon x reader#laios touden x reader#chilchuck tims x reader#marcille donato x reader#senshi & reader#izutsumi & reader#senshi & izutsumi are platonic headcanons#laios/chilchuck/marcille are romantic headcanons#domestic fluff#teeny bit of angst#innkeeper! reader#x reader
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You've Got Me
For the @steddie-spooktober day 16 prompt: "Would you please stop trying to scare them?" Rated: T | Words: 1430 | CW: references to PTSD, nightmares | Tags: established relationship, protective Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson being an asshole, just for a little bit though he didn't know any better, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics
The ringing of the phone in the hall jolts Eddie from what had otherwise been a peaceful sleep.
He lies there a moment, attempting to parse out what the hell he’s supposed to do to make the ringing stop, when someone pats him vaguely on the chest and rolls out of the other side of the bed, telling him, “I’ve got it.”
Steve, Eddie’s brain supplies. Steve’s always been faster to wake, moving from dead sleep to motion in a way Eddie only manages after nightmares.
The ringing stops, followed by the sound of Steve’s voice, faint but audible through the cracked bedroom door. Eddie blinks at the ceiling, trying to kick his brain into gear. What time is it? What day is it? Who the hell is calling in the middle of the night?
Eddie turns to squint at the clock in the dark. It’s just gone three in the morning. It’s… October 30th? Something like that. It’s almost Halloween, Eddie knows that for sure – which is when it hits him.
Almost Halloween. Almost an anniversary.
He’d bet money it’s either Dustin or Lucas on the phone. Slight chance it’s Max, if she’s been shaken up enough. Doubtful that it’s Mike – he wouldn’t stoop to admitting he needs to talk to Steve in the middle of the night; he usually waits until morning to call, if he’s going to at all.
Eddie’s heard the full story of Upside Down Event Number Two, everything that took place around Halloween of 1984, and he understands the phone calls now. He understands the tension that threads through their little group around this time of year, even as they all try to enjoy Halloween. Even though he’d had no way of knowing at the time, he regrets it a little that he hadn’t taken it more seriously – how shaken up the kids had been that first year he’d known Dustin, Mike, and Lucas.
Eddie’s always loved Halloween; loves the aesthetic, loves the candy, loves the premise of running around and causing chaos in the night, loves everything about it, really. Most of Hellfire Club had been in agreement with him: it’s a holiday for misfits. He hadn’t been able to understand, then, what had gotten into his snarky, spitfire little freshmen – for a few guys who’d seemed like they’d be really into the holiday, they mostly seemed edgy about the whole thing.
And so Eddie had tried to get them into the spirit.
He’d done so by running a special campaign all through October, something filled with darkness and monsters to set the mood. He also may have done so by occasionally sneaking up on them and spooking them; he doesn’t really have an excuse for that one, they’d just been such easy pickings. He hadn’t understood at the time why.
He may have done this one evening after Hellfire, when Steve had come by to pick the boys up.
And instead of waiting in his car and occasionally beeping the horn impatiently, like usual, Steve had parked, gotten out, and marched right up to the drama room doors where everyone had been waiting.
“Go wait in the car,” Steve had told the boys, his tone harder than Eddie had ever heard it when they were in school together. “I’m gonna take a minute to catch up with Munson.”
The fact that no one had argued with him should have clued Eddie into how serious the whole thing was, but he’d mostly been distracted by what the hell Steve Harrington could have wanted to talk to him about.
“So, what have I done to earn an audience with the king?” Eddie had asked once the boys had gone.
Steve hadn’t taken the bait, only crossed his arms over his chest and answered, “Would you please stop trying to scare them?”
Eddie had blinked at him, surprised. “What?”
“Look, I know what you’ve been doing.” Steve had said, expression as stony as his tone. “Henderson’s been telling me all about your horror adventure or whatever it is, and he’s mentioned your little jump scares, too, and I’m telling you: you need to knock it off.”
At the time, Eddie had only bristled; people didn’t tell him what to do – especially not people like Harrington.
“They’re big boys, Harrington, I think they can speak for themselves if they object to a few jokes.”
“They shouldn’t have to,” Steve had snapped. “Just– those kids have been through some shit, okay? So maybe take that into consideration before you go jumping out of closets or whatever the fuck you’ve been doing.”
Eddie had not been jumping out of closets, for the record, but Steve’s words had given him pause. “What kind of shit?”
Steve had shifted, almost uncomfortably, but stood his ground. “You remember the whole mess with Will Byers?”
Who didn’t? That whole thing had been a trip and a half; kid goes missing, is found dead in the quarry, gets buried, and then somehow turns up miraculously alive and (mostly) well? It stuck out as an event to just about everyone in town. Eddie had nodded at Steve.
“Well they’re his best friends,” Steve had jerked his head back towards the car. “And we’re coming up on that time of year, so I think you’d be a little jumpy, too.”
It had been all the information Steve had been allowed to share at the time—stories of demodogs and junkyards and tunnels and Hargrove wouldn’t come for another few months—but it had been enough to make Eddie feel a little guilty.
This had only served to make him pricklier, and Steve had taken his sudden, stubborn silence as his cue to make an exit.
“Just think about it, Munson,” he’d said, before turning and heading back to his car.
Eddie had thought about it, and to his credit, he’d stopped with the jump scares and had mildly scaled back some of the gory details in his Halloween campaign, and the kids had come back around to themselves.
Now– now Eddie gets it.
He manages to shuffle himself up and out of bed with a sigh, willing some coordination back into his limbs as he struggles into a pair of sweatpants and stumbles out into the hall. It’s still dark, illuminated only by the kitchen light, but he can see Steve leaning against the wall next to the phone, the handset cradled against his ear with his arms crossed tight over his chest.
He must be cold. The hallway is chilly, and Steve hadn’t even paused to find pants before answering the phone; he’s standing there in just his boxers, but he’s talking calmly to whoever’s on the other end of the line.
“No, you guys did a shit job patching me up,” he’s saying, though he sounds nothing but fond as he does so, “but I’m tough, so I pulled through, anyway.” There’s a moment of silence as he listens to the person on the other end of the line. “You want me to come over there and prove it?” Steve finally offers in response – he sounds flippant, but Eddie knows it’s sincere, and he’s pretty sure whoever is talking to him will know it, too.
After another few moments, Steve asks, “You sure?” Then, “Okay. You have our number if you change your mind… Yeah. See you then, bud.”
“Everything good?” Eddie asks, holding out a hand as Steve levers himself away from the wall.
“Fine,” Steve answers, taking Eddie’s hand and trailing him back to the bedroom. “Henderson. Just a nightmare.”
Must’ve been some nightmare if he’d felt the need to call and make sure Steve was still alive at three in the morning, but Eddie keeps that assessment to himself. He hums in sympathy instead, leading Steve back to bed.
They settle in, Eddie on his back and Steve cuddled up against his chest, leeching whatever warmth he has to offer as Eddie strokes a hand down his back.
“You gonna be able to get back to sleep?” Eddie asks quietly.
The kids aren’t the only ones who have trouble this time of year.
“’m fine,” Steve answers, already sounding like he’s partway to sleep. “Got you, don’t I?”
Eddie smiles into the darkness, slowing the motion of his hand until he can cinch his arm around Steve’s waist and tug him closer. Maybe he hadn’t fully understood what they’d all been going through in the beginning, but he’s there now, and it seems like that must count for something.
“Whenever you need me, baby,” Eddie promises. “You’ve always got me.”
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie-spooktober#steve & the party#solar wrote#eddiesteve
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You're too sweet for a monster like me
Summary : Leon's drowning his pain and suffering with whiskey. But you might be his true salvation.
Pairing : Vendetta Leon! × Fem Reader (A little bit of pre vendetta)
Tags : Established relationship, self deprecating talk (Leon does with himself), mostly angst with little comfort. (But it's there) and alcoholism
A/N: Update on why I disappeared for a while. It's because things got rocky with my academics and I recently broke up :( But not to worry I'm not gonna let a little heartbreak set me back.
And for this fic I'm thinking it to be a little pre vendetta Leon, like the incidents that led to him having depression in Vendetta.
It's gonna a be short fic, may or may not write a part 2 about this. Let me know!
WC: 1.6K
Sound of whiskey getting poured in a glass fills the emptiness of the living room he was in. After all this was all he could do, the only thing he had control in his poor pathetic life.
One mission after another after another. Leon was getting tired after endless fights with the B.O.Ws, corrupt governments in countless countries that were ‘speculated’ to have a new damned virus or a bioweapon war waiting to happen.
And every damn time he was supposed to deal with it, he was supposed to do the government’s dirty work for them, he was supposed to fight every goddamned ugly creature created by the worst of mankind, he had to carry out every gut wrenching decision that government instructed him to do, everytime he was the last man standing and he was never gonna get out of this cycle.
Yes, that's right. He was just a little puppet for the government that was supposed to fight B.O.Ws for them. Someone who was blackmailed into this life and do their bidding, by of course the government.
At first, he tried to take it positively and thought of how many people he could save like he always wanted to and at such a large scale. Something he was extremely passionate about since he was a kid… saving people's lives, protecting them. That's why he wanted to be a cop and now that he was a government ‘special’ agent he would be able to do more.
But he definitely didn't expect the destruction those missions would cause on his own self too, taking every piece of his humanity, every last hope he seemed to have, gone & extinguished in the flames of every bioweapon war he was called in. He definitely didn't expect and could never have anticipated what he was getting thrown into.
When will this cycle end?
A question he thought every second of his life but never had the answer. Forced to play hero each time and with no real win, fighting was like choosing between the lesser of two evils.
He was just a weapon, just a pawn that the government moved each time when they wanted to achieve something. And why would a pawn's life matter in the grand scheme of things? A pawn was created just to be shot down. And that's what he was.
While he was lost in thoughts and his whiskey all alone. He almost missed the soft voice whispering his name, such a gentle voice calling out to him. Feeling a soft hand on his back, trying to get his attention. He turned back to see who it was… and there was the reason. You.
Soft eyes looking at him with a sympathetic smile asking him how he was or that he had eaten anything today?
Leon slowly shook his head to get out of the fog clouding his brain and blinked a few times to focus on you.
Leon's words slurred as he spoke “What?”
“I asked how are you doing today?” Your soft words of concern clearing his brain fog better, making him aware of his surroundings and himself.
Leon blinks once more and looks down at his whiskey and then back at you. “... Better than yesterday.” A lie, he was the same as yesterday.
He could see her lips twitch in a small smile as she sat down besides him on the couch and said. “You're a terrible liar when drunk…”
Leon managed a soft huff at her reply. It almost weirded him out that you could see through him, but he guessed that's what happens when you have someone who cares for you. Leon looked away, sighing deeply and replied. “I'm just tired…”
Leon heard a soft sigh, feeling the soft couch dip a bit as she shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder and gently held his hand. “Leon… I'm always here for you, you know that right? I may not be able to give solid advice to you, but I'm a good listener.”
You could feel him relax under your touch a bit and saw him look your way from the corner of his way, still not facing you. “...I know.”
“So, you know I'm also worried about you?”
Leon winces at that, the last thing he wanted was you to worry about his pathetic self. You already have done so much for him just staying by his side through all this. Hell, you were an angel just for putting up with him and actually loving him. You weren't supposed to be worried about him and you definitely weren't supposed to fall in love with him.
Leon clears his throat and shifts a little bit away from you although he didn't let go of your hand and says. “I…It's nothing.”
You couldn't help but frown at how closed off he was being for the last few days, you understand that his last mission was rough although he never went into details about his missions with you. And you knew he needed space to process all of it but you hated the way he was ‘processing’ his loss. Drinking, lost in thoughts and closing off when you tried to get close. It was hard for both of you.
You slowly shifted towards him again, getting close to him once again. Gently taking the whiskey glass from his hands and moving it away from him. “Leon…”
He looks back at you and he looks…lost. A raging storm of emotions present in those pretty blue eyes of his that you loved so much. “I know it's hard Leon and I'm happy to give you space to think but the way you're doing it… is making me worried.”
You took a deep breath and continued. “Is there anything I can do to help? I can't… see you like this.”
He closes his eyes and deeply sighs once more, years of weariness and defeat visible on his face. He shakes his head and whispers. “You're not supposed to worry about me…”
Leon feels soft hands cup his face gently as she replies. “Can't help it. It sorta happens when you care.”
Leon opens his eyes to see you staring at him with a soft warm smile, your faces close. He presses his forehead against yours for a while trying to calm his anxious thoughts. He then pulls you closer by your waist, pulling you in a hug and burying his face in your neck and taking a deep breath. Your scent filling his senses and offering some peace that he needed to ground himself.
He often wondered what he did to deserve you? Did God or whatever the power universe has, take pity on him and decide to gift him an angel? You were always so sweet, so gentle with him, loving, caring, understanding. You were his sunshine and he couldn't look away. All he could do was soak up in the warmth that you always seemed to radiate everywhere you stepped.
You were perfect and it scared the hell out of him.
He was scared that one day you will see the monster he actually was. That one day you will wake up and see him for who he was, the things he had to do to make a living and think what a disgusting monster he was, what he truly was… not some ‘Hero’ or the ‘Golden boy’, just some monster and a weapon crafted to perfection to destroy the undead. And he hopes that day never comes.
He continues to hug you tightly to himself, his face buried in your neck as he takes deep breaths to calm himself. He then softly whispered. “You smell…like daffodils.”
The sudden comment made you chuckle a bit and kissed his cheek, hugging him tightly. “Yeah, I bought a new perfume today, didn't think you would notice. Does it smell bad?”
“... No, it smells good. It suits you.” And sighed deeply. He then whispered. “You're too sweet for me. Don't know what you see in me.”
You turned to face him and kissed his cheek. “don't say that… I see that you're a hard working, resilient person who keeps going even when the odds are stacked up against him. Whatever it is that you're going through… you can pass through it.”
He turned his head to face you, his expression softening into something more vulnerable as you say that. Clearly touched by your words. Feeling a lump rise in his throat as he closes his eyes once more and exhales shakily.
You were so…innocent. You had no idea what was going on in his head or what actually he turned into. You also had no idea about the vicious but repetitive cycle he was in.
Opening up about this life of his…would ruin such a sweet and innocent thing like you, he was sure of that. He knew you weren't a kid or anything or that you never faced hardships in your life. But this…he can't tell you about what he faces out there, what kind of ugliness his line of work shows him everyday, the dark side of humanity.
He can't taint the only ray of sunshine he ever found in his life.
You look up at him with that sweet dazzling smile, thinking he was someone ‘great’. But reality couldn't be farther from the truth.
Hello everyone! Long time no see, I'm sorry for my disappearance. I promise I will try to be regular now, I know this was short I will probably try to make a part 2? Idk but this was mostly written for my creativity to start flowing again. If you liked it please like it and reblog. I would be very grateful 😊
Fun fact: Daffodils are a sign of hope!
Thank you for reading this, hope you have a good day!
-Bella
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