#his ass is NOT screaming from his diaphragm

[potatobugz]

would you guys forgive me if i said that inosuke's english va sounds like muscle man

[idwt-money]

Sleepless Nights

MDNI 18+

1.5k words, Noah Sebastian x fem!reader

CW: unprotected sex, oral sex (fem rec), slight spit play(??), tiny bit of aggression

“Fuck, Noah..” whispers were almost silent in the room. Words that wouldn’t be remembered in the morning. 

It was ungodly hours in the morning and it was the first night Noah was back from tour. He would usually be dead asleep, snoring and mumbling in his sleep by now but you made this tour…especially excruciating. 

You would send him pictures of yourself in new lingerie while he was away, forcing him to jerk off in a tiny tour bus bathroom. Having to be dead silent due to the, quite literal, paper-thin walls of said tour bus. 

You hadn’t been able to help but giggle to yourself when this happened. He would send you texts back almost immediately. Something along the lines of “I’m going to fuck you until your head is spinning.”

You had never held him to his words as he was usually a shy boy. Although this behavior was unusual, you didn't think much of it. You figured he had gained confidence over the phone. 

Once he had actually gotten home, he almost immediately pinned you against the wall of your shared home and took you like a rabid animal.

It took you by surprise, really. Usually you were the one to initiate, but this was nothing you were complaining about. 

And here you are now, ass up and Noah having no mercy on your poor body.

“What baby? Didn’t think I meant what I said in those texts did you?” His words were sparse between grunts and huffs from all the pleasure his touched starved cock was receiving in the moment. 

He knew you couldn’t respond, not only because your sentence would just be a string of moans and pathetic whimpers, but also due to the fact he had a fist full of your hair, pushing your face into the duvet.

God, you wished and hoped that he would turn you over so you could see how devilishly sinful he looked. 

That thought lasted maybe 30 seconds when Noah slapped your ass, with much force, bringing you close to your first orgasm of the night. 

You didn’t have to say anything, Noah knew your body better than you did. Your legs began to shake, your pussy tightened around him and your muffled cries and pleas were becoming louder by the second. 

“Give it to me. I want it now.” 

With Noah’s permission you let your orgasm rip through you like lightning bolts. It made your vision go blurry before you shut your eyes. 

It dozed through you before coming to an end. You had never gone for so long without an orgasm caused by your lover.

You both were highschool sweethearts and up until the tour, you hadn’t gone even an entire 2 weeks without seeing each other, let alone fuck. 

With no words shared, Noah moved you onto your back and thank god he did. He looked just as you imagined. His hair was messy and falling in his face due to the utterly unforgiving thrusts he had been fucking into you. 

“There’s my pretty girl. So so good for giving yourself to me.” His voice was ridden with a tone somewhere between lust and love. He had slowed his thrusts, just long enough to give you a kiss to your lips. It was messy and unfathomably pussy throbbing. Your tongues were swirling around each other as if they were dancing to an unheard beat. Saliva was starting to pool down your chin but when he pulled away, you couldn’t be bothered to wipe it away. Noah grabbed your legs, pulled you closer and went at an unrelenting pace. You knew he was close but not this close. 3 or 4 thrusts later he was letting curse words leave his lips and he spilled his load onto your stomach. 

His chest heaved and gasped for air as he milked his cock for the remains of his orgasm. The words he was growling out seemed to have come somewhere deep within his diaphragm. Almost like he was on stage screaming for thousands of people. Neither of you cared about how loud you were being or if any of the neighbors had heard you. In this very moment, it was just you two. 

You had made eye contact before watching him sink to his knees, off of the bed and dive into your pussy like it was a divine meal meant for the gods. The wet noises coming from Noah’s mouth immediately sent your two hands into his hair. No matter how nasty you two fucked, he always treated your pussy like his last meal on earth, being sure to treasure every lick, slurp and gulp. 

“Oh fuck, Noah” When he wrapped your lips around your already sensitive clit, it caused your body to jolt. Your thighs clenched around his head and your fingers to pull at his hair. 

Grunts escaped his mouth, his now being muffled due to the position you had him trapped in. In which only caused you more pleasure. The vibrations of his now low moans made your mind foggy. You started to take it into your own hands and grind against his tongue. 

Noah seemingly didn’t like the idea of you taking charge and left a hefty slap to your thigh. 

“We’re doing this at the pace I want. I waited far too fuckin’ long to taste you. I am in charge. Understand?” His voice was low and husky, causing a rush of wetness straight to your pussy. You nodded, thinking it would give him satisfaction of an answer. It didn’t.

“Use your fucking words y/n” He had a look of the slightest irritation written on it. 

“Yes sir.” Your words were quiet but it did the job as he went back down, taking long, thoughtful strokes to your clit. Your mouth fell open and your eyes collapsed closed, taking in nothing the warm, wet feeling of his devilish tongue. 

Noah could genuinely go on forever between your legs, he, a couple times, had gone until you were crying and his jaw was sore. It was almost like he enjoyed watching you squirm and shake due to his tongue rather than actually fucking you. 

Your moans had now gone high pitched, and the once slow, languid licks of his tongue were now fast and on the borderline of being dangerous. 

“Baby- oh fuck! Please keep going. I’m so so so close!” You once again rested your hands in his hair as a poor excuse to try and ground yourself. 

Noah didn’t say a word, instead giving you silent praise by swirling his tongue around your clit.

Another orgasm crashed into you and it was almost debilitating. 

Your eyes had rolled to the back of your head, Noah brought you in closer with a grasp on your hips and you were spent. 

He pulled away, licking his lips and slightly cleaning the mess your cunt had made dripping down his chin.

“You taste like heaven itself. Holy shit.” He said in disbelief.

He climbed atop of you and shared a chaste kiss with you, venturing his way down your neck. He left small bites and small hickies here and there, in some sort of proof you were his and no one else could ever have you in the way he does.

Despite what Noah had planned in his own world, you went against it and forced him to lay down, now hovering over his cock.as you sunk down onto him, his nails sunk into your hips. 

You softly grinded down onto him, throwing your head back and biting your lip as an attempt to stop yourself from smiling too big.

Once you got comfortable on top of him, you situated your legs and started to bounce up and down on his cock. Noah was now being more vocal with curses, groans, huffs, grunts. Whatever his body could do to help the overpowering sensation of pleasure.

This time, you weren’t worried about achieving your own orgasm but wanted to pull one more out of Noah before you both were too tired. 

“Come on handsome. I know you got it in you, give it to me.”

Noah had an undeniable thing for praise and encouragement in these situations, contrary to popular belief. 

“Mhm, just like that, just like that. Shit!” His voice was worn out now, giving it more of a soft moan rather than his previous growls.

Within seconds he was unfolding in front of your eyes, his breathing became shallow and his eyes were pinched closed, focusing on getting him to topple over the edge of pure bliss. As his mouth fell open, he released everything into you. As he came, his grip on your hips dug deeper and you wouldn’t have been surprised if you had bruises the next day. 

As soon as he was done with his orgasm, you toppled over onto his chest, even though you were dirtied with his previous orgasm. He softly rubbed your back as he whispered soft words of adoration to you. 

Soon enough helped you clean off what mess he made in your rendezvous earlier. Once you were in bed, you made a small conversation consisting of how much you missed him while he was away from you.

[i984]

My Thoughts Echoing Your Name | Part 4

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader.

|Warnings|: Afraid of commitment! Wednesday Addams, reader cried ugly, lame banters, author gave up-ish on writing from paragraph 3, Jealous! Wednesday Addams, lame-ass guy still exists.

|Summary|: Even after Wednesday Addams broke your heart, the ache for her is unbearably still there.

|A/n|: I struggled with this one, there's 5 different drafts until I decided to just type whatever comes in mind, and here you have it, a not-last-part of Burning Red. Next and final part is out!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Music.

It's coming from outside your window.

You strain your ears, and they manage to catch the all-too-familiar tune. It's frickin' Aerosmith blasting in the middle of the night.

Great. Now you look like an idiot from some cliche romantic comedy movie—tears streaming down your cheeks with snotty tissue papers scattered about your bedsheets, a pathetic teenager bawling their eyes out with a love song playing in the background.

Wednesday, the girl of your dreams, was never yours.

It feels funny. How you thought that after leaving Wednesday yet again for the second time that evening, you would finally find peace in the four walls of your dorm space. But instead, here you are, throat hoarse, eyes stinging, chest ragged, nose sniffling, and some psycho has decided to interrupt your much-needed de-stressing session.

The universe must hate you.

You plop down your bed while your eyelids close, drowning in the all-consuming black void while the faint chord of music continues to play. A sound escaped your lips. A defeated chortle. It sounded so weak that you were almost sure it hadn't come out of you, the voice so uncharacteristic of your usual relaxed, carefree laughter.

Memories of your latest cafe commotion flash through your mind, and you feel your heart sinks and touch your diaphragm.

Is this it? Have you been reduced to a heartbroken pathetic fool? The obnoxious images assault your brain, and you scream into your pillow as you give in to the torture, mind re-living the appalling incident at Weathervane.

"Whoa, who are you?" the man across from you and Wednesday asked, his trunk no longer attached to the sofa booth, legs standing up hurriedly at Wednesday's intimidating display.

Wednesday pulls the side of your body closer, both your hips bruisingly pressed to each other as she speaks, "I believe I should ask you the same question."

You squirm under Wednesday's tight grip, unable to decide if you should break free or admit defeat and stay at your place. You chose the latter, partly to assess the situation but also because you've stupidly missed her touch, despite how much you wish to smack the face of the girl standing beside you.

The man's face contorts into confusion before his brows shoot up and his mouth gapes, finally coming to an irksome realization.

"You- you're that outcast from the freak school, right?"

Wednesday, a freak, though she wasn't the only one.

"Your obviously puny brain might want to try coming up with something a little more descriptive than that."

The man ignored Wednesday's insult, finger now raised to point at the raven-haired girl. "No, yeah, I remember you. You're that crazy girl who played cello while the ceremony caught fire."

He takes a small step back from the two of you, the tissue paper in his hand now crumpled. "They said you were the one who staged it all."

"I have to say, the town's people here might not be too dense after all," came Wednesday's haughty reply, and you're starting to get sick of the pointless banter displayed.

The man turns his face to you, "We should go, like now."

You didn't move from your spot—or rather you can't. Wednesday's arm wraps around you more firmly, and you don't know if you hate the feeling of it; the hint of possessiveness in the gesture offers sweet promises and false hope.

Wednesday, the black dahlia that will be the death of you.

It doesn't take a genius to find out, so the next words that come out of the man's mouth are no surprise.

"Wait, you know this girl?" the person you've yet to learn their name asked, and when you didn't answer, he took another step back, his hands now coming up to pull on the base of his hair in horror.

"I can't believe you're friends with this psychopath," and you feel your stomach churn at the man's words. Not at his obviously condescending tone or the sudden behavior change but at the word he chose to use.

Wednesday, a friend. Is that how he sees the two of you?

Even a stranger seems to think this, so could it be true? Oh, how you want to say no because friends don't act this way. They don't get upset about dates; they don't go on those. The romantic kinds, at least.

Their hearts don't hammer against their chests, not when they hold each other's hands so tight they can feel the blood rush under their skin.

They don't swap spit and shove their tounges down each other's throats, and they won't get upset if one of them says that it's all that is. A kiss. After all, friends can kiss each other, right?

But most importantly, they don't get upset when strangers think they're indeed friends.

Wednesday now feels like a foe, and you know you've lost.

"But we're not friends, are we?" You finally turn your head to look at Wednesday's face, and when you see whatever cryptic expression she's got on her front, you lose all hope.

"We're nothing," your voice shakes in defeat, and your free hand tries to pry Wednesday's arm off you, "so I shouldn't have been upset."

"We're nothing," you lift the fingers gripping your hips tightly one by one, "you were right, and I was wrong."

"We're nothing," you look at her previously cold hand that now desperately holds yours, and you wonder if this may be the last time you'll ever get the chance to touch her, "so you should let me go."

You pull your hand to your side forcefully. The cold and the warmth were no more; it was just you.

"So I should go."

The cafe's doorbell chimes, and you leave Wednesday and the stranger behind you, not daring to look back at them, at her.

Because maybe if you do, you'll see that tears have stained her face just like yours have, and you don't know if you'll survive with the sight burned to your brain.

Wednesday, now a ripped page of the book you wish you could burn.

You open your eyes, and the light frays them, making your brows furrow as you groan into the room. The music was no longer there. Gone. Only deafening silence kills your heart and robs your soul. You feel so painfully alone.

Breathing in the air, you look up and see spiders making webs on your ceiling. They dance, weaving more web out, painting beautifully intricate patterns bit by bit.

Your mind calms down, the bitter thoughts now replaced with a name, and your mind holds to it and repeats it like a mantra.

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

You want to see her.

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

You want to feel her.

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Your heart calls out her name.

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Oh, you miss her.

"Wednesday." Your voice calls out her name; a knock answers.

[livyjh]

💝 anon here. Girl. You UNDERSTOOD THE FUCKING ASSIGNMENT!!!! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 I've got more for ya. Hear me out.

I would love to break a bed with Mr Joel Miller. Be wearing one of his flannels with ✨ nothing ✨ underneath and just teasing the hell out of him. Obvi Daddy has anger issues and he's had enough. Break my back like a glow stick. Snap my back in half like a fucking twig. Twist me like a fucking pretzel baby. Wanna feel his 🍆 touching my diaphragm. And of course screaming his name to where the whole damn town can hear cause 🥵 HELLO 🥵

Jesus please forgive me for I have sinned

-💝 (Luv ya doll)

Bless you, anon. Keep ‘em comin. Can’t promise I’ll be quick about writing it, but I will get to it. I forgot the bed breaking part for a sec so I just added that. So make sure you read it NOW that it is included. Lol.

Joel’s Flannel

Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Joel has a lot to do today. You tease him by walking around the house in nothing but his shirt. Smut ensues.

Warnings: smuuuuut, daddy kink, anal play, teasing, delayed orgasm, Joel calls you a slut and a whore, he’s a little mean

Joel Miller Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, drying yourself off. You step into yours and Joel’s shared master bedroom and see one of his flannels laying on the bed.

“Hm…” you had a great idea. You knew Joel loved to see you in his clothes. You also knew he had important housework to get done today. Fixing a couple floorboards, cleaning the heater vents, stuff like that. So… a little teasing was in order.

You put on his flannel, glad it mostly covered your ass. It almost felt like a little dress. You buttoned it up most of the way, leaving the chest open a little so he could see your cleavage.

Ellie wasn’t to be worried about, she’s staying the whole week with Dina.

So, it was your time to get some much needed attention from Joel. But still play innocent.

You walk out of the bedroom, passing behind Joel in the hall as you walked to the kitchen for breakfast. “Hey.”

He glances back at you just as you go out of sight. “Hey- you wearin’ my shirt?”

“Yeah. That okay?” You ask sweetly.

He appears in the doorway of the kitchen, looking you up and down. “Sure. Looks… good.” He smiles.

“Thanks.” You lean down, faced away from him as you reach down into a drawer for a whisk. You know he can see your naked ass, if nothing else.

He makes a small sound in his throat and you smirk to yourself.

“Honey, I’ve got a lotta work to get done today.” He sighs.

You look at him with a little smile. “I know. Don’t mind me. Just making pancakes.”

“Make me a couple?” He raises a brow, staring at your chest for a moment.

“Of course.” You wink at him.

He nods a thanks and goes back into the hall to keep working on the floor. You make a few pancakes, some for you and some for Joel.

“Alright, it’s ready.” You call to him.

He gets up from the floor with a small groan, walking into the kitchen and smiling at the sight of you.

“Here you go.” You hand Joel a plate with the prepared pancakes and he takes it happily.

“Thank you.” He hums.

You both sit down at the kitchen table and you can tell the front of the flannel is a lot lower than when you’re standing, your breasts mostly exposed. You didn’t doubt Joel could see your nipple from the right angle.

He gulps audibly before he starts to eat, watching you through breakfast.

You sit back once you’re done eating, crossing your arms to push your breasts together nonchalantly.

Joel shoots you a glare. “You’re such a fuckin’ tease, Y/n.”

“Oh?” You raise a brow, smirking.

He shakes his head with an unbelieving smile. “You know exactly what you’re doin’. You trying to keep me from gettin’ anything done?”

“Joel, I’m not sure what you’re ta-“

As you speak, he shoots out of his chair, grabbing your wrist hard and pulling you up with him. “Shut up. Do I have to teach you a lesson?” He growls.

You bite your lip, letting out a soft moan just to tease him further and he really snaps.

“God dammit.” He curses, scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder, hanging onto the backs of your thighs.

“Joel!” You squeak as he picks you up.

“If you’re gonna act like a slut, you’re gonna get treated like one. Understand?” He smacks your ass as he walks into your guys’ bedroom and closes the door.

“Y- yes.” You mumble.

“Yes, what?” He practically yells as he leans forward to let your body flop back onto the bed.

“Yes, daddy.” You whine, spreading your legs.

“S’what I thought… lemme feel.” He groans down at you as he plunges a finger into you.

“Fffuck!” You gasp, gripping the sheets.

“Already fuckin’ soaked.” He smirks, pulling his finger out. You watch it glisten as he brings it up to his lips and sucks your juices off it.

You can’t help but make a small, needy sound for him.

Joel rips the flannel open, buttons flying as your body becomes totally exposed.

“Just as I suspected. My little whore is naked and ready for me.” He smiles and leans up, acting like he’s about to kiss you. Instead, he bites down on your lower lip as both his hands roughly grab your breasts.

“Joel-“ you choke out between moans.

“Uh-uh. Who am I?” He pulls back, releasing your lip.

“Daddy.” You whine.

“That’s right. Now, turn over for daddy.” He stands up and watches you as you roll onto your stomach. “Ass up.” He reminds you.

You prop yourself up on your knees, ass in the air. As you try to push up onto your hands, you feel a hand press down on your upper back. “Stay down.” Joel’s voice booms.

You nod. “Yes, daddy.”

“Atta girl. Think you’re startin’ to learn.” You can hear the grin in his voice even though you can’t see it.

As you’re bent in half in front of him, you feel a finger trace down your spine, down the center of your ass and-

“Oh!” You gasp softly as Joel’s fingertip traces circles around your asshole.

With his other hand, he’s unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. You feel his cock press against your pussy, but not inside yet.

He leans down and spits onto your hole, you moan as he rubs the spit around and pushes his cock into your cunt slowly.

He sighs as he gets all the way into you, his fingertip still teasing your ass before gently pushing it in.

“Fuck.” You whine at the stretch around his finger.

He starts thrusting his hips, quick, just focused on his own pleasure as his finger pushes deeper inside you. He wiggles it and you gasp, pressing your face into the bed to silence yourself.

He reaches up with his free hand and pulls your head back by your hair, making you crane your neck. “Let me hear it, honey.”

“Daddy-“ you cry out, toes curling and eyes struggling to stay open.

“Louder.”

“Daddy!” You scream once, sure the neighbors could probably hear it.

“Better.” He hums, fucking into you, thrusting his hips and finger into both your holes. “Little slut. Bet you’re lovin’ this.”

You don’t confirm or deny, afraid he’d stop if you did either. You moan again as he presses his cock and finger all the way in at the same time, stilling deep in you.

After a second of him not moving, you clench both holes around him and he laughs. He fucking laughs at you. Another minute passes and he starts moving again, faster, rougher.

You gasp as he starts back up, feeling overwhelmed with pleasure. “Daddy, please- please, I’m gonna cum…”

“No. Not ‘til I say.” He pulls his finger out of you and you moan at the loss.

He then pulls his dick out and it makes tears form in your eyes. “P- please.” You whimper pitifully.

“On your back.” He orders.

You quickly turn over, looking him up and down, he’s still fully clothed, just with his cock out. There was a wet spot on the front of his boxers from your pussy. You could tell his cock was throbbing just by looking at it. It was shiny from your wetness, the tip red.

Joel gets on his knees between your legs, shoving his cock into your folds once more. Tears escape your eyes as you look up at him.

He ducks down and attaches his mouth to your right nipple, sucking hard, tugging with his teeth.

You know better than to touch him when he’s angry at you, even though you’d love to grab his hair and pull it. You know he’d love it too. Just maybe not right now.

He was fucking you down into the mattress, hard, when he lifts your legs to go over his shoulders. You almost feel like a pretzel beneath him, all folded up, squished under his weight as his mouth attacked your breast again.

You hear the bed creak and crack beneath you and the next thing you know, the mattress falls through the bed frame and onto the floor. Joel stays inside you the whole time, continuing to move once the bed had settled.

You’re fisting the sheets to try and ground yourself but you can’t hold back anymore. You know he doesn’t want you to either.

“Daddy-“ you sob, “P- promise I’ll be a g- good girl.” You needed to convince him to let you cum or you might burst into flames.

“Don’t believe you.” He growls, leaning up so he can press his forehead to yours. “Look at me.”

You force your eyes to open further so you can look into his eyes, glance down at his lips, then back up.

“Kiss me.” You breathe.

“Why? You think you deserve it?”

“Please.” You sniffle, tears running down your cheeks. “I’ll be good. I won’t tease you anymore.”

You both knew you were lying but he kisses you anyways. You sob against his lips, breathing hard as you kiss him back.

He reaches down between you and flicks at your clit a couple of times before starting to rub it. Your hands twist the sheets tighter as you scream. “Fuck!”

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He speaks loudly, making sure to get his point across.

“Daddy, please. Oh, god. I can’t- if you don’t-“ you can barely form a sentence. “S- so bad. I want it so bad.” You sob as he kisses the tears from your cheeks.

“I know. I know, darlin’… you gonna let daddy cum inside this time?” He asks.

“Yes. F- fuck. Anything you want.” You gasp, chest heaving.

“Good girl.” He coos in your ear, rubbing your clit harder.

You feel his cock twitch and then he gives an order. “Cum for me.”

Hardly three seconds pass before your orgasm washes over you. You barely have time to soak in your own bliss before Joel is pumping cum into you.

You whine at the feeling, loving the fullness. You’re both panting, he kisses you again as he slows down and finally stops.

When he pulls out, you feel the cum starting to leak out of you. You don’t mind, you can always wash the sheets. Here’s hoping you don’t get pregnant. Oh, well. Joel was worth it.

He stands up and puts himself back in his pants, zipping and buttoning up. “I’ll fix the bed later. Put on some fucking clothes.” He demands with a smirk and leaves the bedroom to continue working on the house.

[astoldbychae]

Questions for OC Couples: Marguerite & Scar (The Most Toxic Duo) 🥴

1. Where and how did they meet? Online (Simda Dating App). She swiped right & He wasted no time "sliding in her DMs" or whatever.

2. Was it love at first sight? Love? Nah...Lust? Absolutely!

3. If it was not love at first sight, how and when did they know it was love? Love hasn't really entered the chat for these two just yet, honestly. Things are still relatively new-ish and they're currently caught up in the rapture of intense lust. All they do is fuss, fight, & fuck (in that order). However, He does care about her quite a bit. She's always hot or cold when it comes to him, so mamas is just vibing at this point. They really haven't shared that "singing from the diaphragm like a 90s R&B love song" type of I love you just yet.

4. What feature(s) do they find most attractive about their partner? For him it's her eyes, feet, mouth 😏, NOLA-esque accent, and ass. For her it's the scar on his face, his bottom lip (specifically), his tongue, and (most importantly) his dick. THESE TWO ARE NASTY!

5. What traits / personality aspects do they like most about their partner? She loves the fact that he's Jealous. He loves that she's Evil (he really has a love/hate relationship with her smart mouth). Aside from all that she loves that he is Protective, Artsy, and about his business. He loves how Independent, Ambitious, and Adventurous she is.

6. Do they have any habits their partner finds annoying? For him, it's how much she curses and her tendency to "cut him off" during their conversation (Respectfully, respect is a BIG thing for him. It's a pet peeve for someone to over talk/dismiss him). For her, it's his alcohol consumption.

7. Is there anything about their partner they would like to change? He would really love for her to let him finish his sentences (especially during their "heated debates"). She would love for him to cut back on the Cognac. However, these two are so damn toxic that I think they feed off of this behavior. Their little cycle: She starts argument, He gets pissed cause she won't listen to a word he's saying (so he ends up walking off pissed and gets a drink to calm his nerves), He gets tipsy (and those eyes get reaaallll low), She tries to continue the argument but somehow ends up folded like a damn pretzel, screaming his name at the tip top her lungs with her wig swingin' from the chandelier. 😩 THESE TWO GET ON MY NERVESSSSSS. Lol.

8. Where did they have their first date? Bella's Lounge (An upscale strip club)...it was Marguerite's idea.

9. When and where did they have their first kiss? After their "first date," they ended up back at Scar's place (He has a condo in Del Sol Valley for when he's there on business). They smoked and ended up fuckin. He was kissing, sucking, and biting all over her. He wanted her to "see how good she tastes," so he kissed her after giving her head. It wasn't romantic necessarily but it was definitely transcendental. 🙃Honestly, this moment is what got her evil ass hooked! It was one hell of a night!

10. How long have they been together? About 7, maybe 8 months

11. Will they stay together for a long time? I have no clue but some part of me has doubts. She gets the whim to break up with him at least once a week. She is always finding a way to push his buttons and he reciprocates that energy (sometimes) because He knows it gets to her.

12. Do they have many problems in the relationship or just a few? Or none? ABSOLUTELYYYYY. Half the time I'm clueless on what their problems are about BUT they stay beefin with each other, just to make up. However, He has the Hates Children trait...and she has 3 (and would like to have more). She hasn't brought her kids around him (but he showed up to her shop once and ended up meeting her oldest daughter briefly...and they somehow now despise each other). Overall, their communication could use A LOT of work (and is the root of ALL their problems) mainly because of her.

13. Is there a big age difference between the partners, a small difference or are they the same age? Nope. She's 31 and He's 36.

14. Do other people approve or disapprove of the relationship? Yup! There's some disapproval...on Marguerite's side. Scar likes to keep his dating life private (primarily with his line of work). He did tell his brother about their relationship, he just hasn't been introduced to her yet (He's in Chestnut Ridge and his brother is in San Myshuno).

15. If someone disapproves of the relationship, who is it, and why do they disapprove? GeGe (Marguerite's oldest daughter) HATES him off of one interaction. She snitches to her dad about him during their chatty family calls...which causes Melo to be weary of the relationship (cause he doesn't play about his girls).

16. Does the couple care if people disapprove of them being together? Nope.

17. Are they married? No ma'am! Lol

18. If they’re not married, do they want to be? I believe Marguerite does but I'm not sure it'll be to him. She's very much still in love with her ex-husband (although He has moved on). Scar has never been married and hasn't really thought too much about it. She's tried to talk to him about marriage a few times and each time he gets a bit tense and autonomously sparks a blunt. However, Melo did get a random ass call from her asking what she should do because she found a ring in Scar's bag...He told her that if she had to come to him about it then it must not be serious...and it's been crickets on the topic! I personally think she was just lying and trying to be messy. Which is what she does best!

19. Would they elope, have a small intimate wedding, big fancy wedding, or something else? If She were to get married again, she would elope. She's a loner and doesn't really care for people that much. She is all for a beautiful moment with just her and her man. As for him, marriage hasn't crossed his mind like that.

20. Where would they go on their honeymoon or dream vacation? Tartosa! She's got expensive ass villas saved on her phone as we speak. She may not go all out for the wedding BUT the honeymoon is going to be EVERYTHING! Knowing her, she most likely will try to make this into a "world tour," visiting SEVERAL expensive ass villas around the simverse!

21. Do they have any children? Do they want any? She has 3 and would like more. Him on the other hand...🙃 (between you and me...He's got one that he doesn't know about...and he may just blow a blood vessel when/if he finds out) *grabs popcorn*

22. What is their favourite thing to do together? Argue & Fuck. Listen, these two are just unhinged, toxic, and nasty. This is all they do! It's probably why she's always fussin' at him, she wants to go on more dates but he can get tunnel vision and laser focused on work. 15th Street ain't gonna run itself now! Lol.

23. Where is their favourite place to go together? Strip Clubs and this Soul Food spot in Lykke Center, Windenburg. It's honestly a hidden gem.

24. Do they have a song? Blackstreet - Deep ... 😑 (Scar has this on repeat...and I wanna kick him in the shins because of it!)

25. Do they have any pet names / nicknames for each other? He calls her "NuNu". She calls him "Handsome" or...wait for it "Daddy" 🙄

26. Are they jealous? Y-E-S. He is! She's just evil, possessive, & loves to argue (so maybe she is too but he actually has the trait! Lol).

27. Is this a first relationship for either of them? Nope. She's divorced (Melo's ex-wife) and hasn't had any other real relationship since. He has had quite a few situationships but nothing serious honestly. For a bulk of his young adult years he was incarcerated. Since he's been out, he's back to focusing on business. To him, "pussy is pussy" (in his words) but he does care about Marguerite more than he has any other fling...so that counts for something (I guess). I personally would love for him to give his heart to someone. I feel that he is capable of doing so (but my game has a mind of it's own).

28. How do they show affection for each other? Fussin' & Fuckin...a kiss, massage, or a kind gesture here and there but right now...it's just Fuss, Fight, Fuck...and repeat. 😒 Imma need them to find a new cycle of affection cause I'm tired!

29. How do they cheer their partner up when they’re sad? Good question...It's rare that either one of them ever gets sad. Honestly, the only emotion that they express on the regular is being Angry or Tense...and they fuck that away (whenever they're near each other). So I'm sure they'd find a way to fuck the sadness away, knowing them. It may not be the healthiest thing but they be communicating with each other's bodies & releasing whatever emotion is bottled up during their pretzel folding, wig swingin' sessions. 😣

30. Is either of the partners a ‘hopeless romantic’? Nope. Not at all. Nowhere close. 😂

Thanks for the ask @prin-ces-a 💛

[nametakensff]

Steve and Eddie- 💦🤬⛈

Thank you for the prompt, anon! ❤️ Here's just over 6k of these dumb guys being in love

E/ddie is in a grumpy mood and hoping that his date with S/teve will cheer him up - but a sudden rainstorm and bout of insecurity might get in the way of that

(I kind of based this after this fic and before all my others where they've been together for a while - I still need to write a fic about them getting together in this sort of AU I've gradually created - but you don't need to read anything else though, it's ultimately just snz porn 😅)

~~~~~~

Content: M/M, Established (but relatively new) relationship, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, pollen allergies, a LOT of mess (not too graphic but just in case!), blow jobs, cumming in pants, little bit of humiliation, just guys being dudes

CW: Just in case, characters feeling insecure about the fetish momentarily

NSFW, minors dni etc etc etc

“Heh-ENGXtchh!! NGXtchhh!! IGXT’chieww!! Ehdt’TCHIEWW!! FUCK, man…”

Eddie swiped under his nose for what felt like the fiftieth time since the start of this latest Corroded Coffin jam session. Gareth had closed the garage door for him in an attempt to fend off the offending pollen, but the damage had already been done – long before he’d even arrived, if he was being honest. These fucking allergies.

He pointedly ignored the somewhat wary round of blessings his bandmates offered. He was embarrassed as hell, normally able to stifle his hay fever into submission quite successfully if need be. He didn’t care so much about Gareth seeing him this way, not when he’d seen much, much worse over the years – but he didn’t feel like having a full-on allergy attack in front of anyone who wasn’t Steve right now, and even that was debatable. He cleared his throat and stood tall.

“Okay, second chorus, from the top!”

His voice broke slightly mid-sentence and he almost ground his teeth in frustration. This was a bad fucking allergy day. Normally he would have called band practice off with some half-assed excuse to avoid the aggravation. He should have learned about trying to suppress his sneezing for too long, especially after the recent humiliating debacle where he had what could only be described as a semi-nuclear allergic reaction at Steve’s house, in front of all his new friends. That everyone had been super cool about it, and that the discovery of his and Steve’s mutual fetish from that night had urged him to pursue the younger man, was irrelevant. He liked attention, craved it, but only if it was the kind that he cultivated willingly for himself.

Luckily, the sheer grumpiness he was experiencing today was somewhat working to curtail the inconvenient physiological response he was prone to after a consistent bout of sneezing. His cock was cowering away from him, not unlike the rest of Corroded Coffin, for which he was entirely grateful. Being in a bad mood still sucked - he took no pleasure in this moodiness. Tyranny was only fun if he was in complete control of his own emotions.

Gareth counted them in and they started up again. For about twenty minutes Eddie was able to forget his allergies and play for all he was worth. He’d been working on his vocals, trying his best to project from his diaphragm rather than screaming his throat sore, and he was thrilled to find that it was actually making a difference. He didn’t have that long to appreciate it, however, spinning away from his friends mid-song with a sudden wrenching gasp, falling into a fit of violent sneezes.

“IGT’TCHiewww!! Ehh’NGXTT’Chieww!! DZZ’Shieww!! HAGT’TCHieww!!”

They tickled so much his eyes swam with tears. They were also, to his chagrin, particularly high-pitched and desperate sounding. His cock twitched minutely for a moment in his pants and he blushed, hiding in his hair as much as he was able whilst his body spasmed under the assault. This was no good, no good at all. He reared back for the definitive sneeze of the fit, massive inhale stretching his chest to capacity.

“HEHH-ENGXTCHH’tsiewww!!!”

Holy fuck, that had been big. Not only that, it had been messy. He clapped a hand to his face to conceal the productive results, blush burning his cheeks. Still angled away from his bandmates, he fumbled for his bandana, cursing when he came up empty. Just his fucking luck. He sniffled reflexively, cringing at the thick crackling sound of it.

“Gross, dude…”

He span round immediately, anger and humiliation pulsing through him in waves.

“Why don’t you fuck off, Tim!” He spat, trying his best to look intimidating behind the hand clamped to his face.

“Oookay, guys, let’s take five, yeah?” Jeff sighed, placing his guitar neatly up against an amp before making his way into Gareth’s house. He slapped Tim on the shoulder, urging him to follow. Tim gave Eddie one last pointed glare before taking the hint and skulking off through the garage door. Eddie watched him leave, snuffling into his hand.

Gareth, who had silently watched the whole thing unfold from behind his drum kit, made his way over to a stack of shelves in the corner, retrieving a half empty box of tissues. He would never tell Eddie that he’d left it there specifically for him and that nobody had used it before or since the last time he’d been suffering with nasal difficulties at his house. He walked back over to his friend, punching him gently on the arm and pushing the box of tissues into his free hand.

“If I say ‘god bless you’, will you bite my head off?”

Eddie grumbled something that Gareth didn’t quite catch before turning around, balancing the box on his guitar and yanking a bundle of tissues out as best he could with one hand. The drummer gave him some privacy, mindlessly tinkering with the cymbals of his kit and trying his best not to wince at the incredibly thick nose blows that pierced the otherwise companionable silence.

The older man finished clearing out his sinuses as best he could and groaned. He hated losing his temper like that. Tim was right, of course – this was objectively gross, even if he would subjectively love to see Steve in the same state he was currently in. He leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, willing himself to lighten up.

“Bad allergy day?”

Eddie cracked open an eye and peered at Gareth, who was smiling with faux innocence back at him.

“Whadt tipped you off, Nandcy Drew?” He sniped, cringing only slightly at the additional Ds his swollen sinuses sprinkled into the sentence.

Gareth put his hands up in wordless surrender, smiling softly and deciding to leave it. Eddie was aware he was being handled like a recalcitrant beast with a thorn in its paw, and if it had been anyone other than the drummer he would have lashed out in response to the overcautious mollycoddling. But it was Gareth, so he merely closed his eyes again and listened as the drummer fucked around with various drum fills. He muffled another fit of itchy sneezes into a tissue, acknowledging the blessing from his friend with a nod.

“You seeing Steve today?” He heard Gareth ask after a beat.

“…Yeah. Unfortunately. I mean – because I’m – y’know.” Eddie gestured at his face.

“It’s no big deal, dude. He doesn’t seem like the type to care.”

Eddie knew that was an understatement. Steve fucking loved seeing him like this, and normally the metalhead would welcome the undivided attention and subsequent orgasms. But they were still so new, the pair of them – neither had been with a guy before (not that Eddie had really had much more experience with girls than a few drunken hand jobs at the senior parties he used to crash), and they were trying to take things slow. They hadn’t even formally named their relationship out loud, though it was obvious to the both of them this was far more than a mutual crush.

It wasn’t so much that Eddie wished they didn’t have this – shared interest, in sneezing. It was that he was painfully aware of how distracting he was being when he hung out with Steve. Sometimes he wanted to carry out a full conversation without sneezing himself breathless and leaving the younger man with a raging boner, driving himself wild in the process. Not that he could blame him – he’d just about lost his mind the first time Steve had sneezed against his neck, coming into the younger man’s hand in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

This allergy season had been so much worse than any other he could remember, and wondered if it had something to do with his stint in the upside down. It would be just his luck if all those nasty spores and particles had exacerbated his already impressive reactions to pollen. Even if it had been the catalyst to hooking up with Steve, even if he combusted with pleasure every time it earned him a blessing from the object of his desire, it was getting old, fast.

“Yeah, I know. But Tim is right, man – I’m gross. Sick of it.”

“Kid’s, like, not all there. I love the guy but he’s more than a little direct. You can’t take it to heart, man.”

Eddie nodded. He knew he was right. Tim was a socially awkward weirdo, the reason why they had all basically become friends in the first place. He was blunt, that was just the fact of the matter.

“Thanks, Gare. I just don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You won’t. I’ve seen the way Harrington looks at you – now that’s fucking gross. You googly eyed bastards eye-fucking each other, constantly. Yeah, don’t worry, he’s going nowhere.”

Eddie hurled a balled-up wad of tissues at him, laughing as he managed to hit the younger man square in the forehead and earning himself a disgusted shriek in response. He loved this stupid kid – he always seemed to know just what to say to cheer him up. He resolved to keep his temper for the rest of their jam sesh, nervously counting down the time to his date with Steve.

~~~~

He had to admit his low mood had at least been temporarily assuaged by the sight of Steve opening his door, a radiant smile on his face and visibly excited to see Eddie standing there. He drove the two of them out into a particularly scenic clearing he’d found in the woods – nobody else went out there anymore – and nervously laid out a ratty old picnic blanket and the food he brought with him. He felt pretty unoriginal, maybe kind of predictable, but Steve seemed thrilled all the same. Eddie’s cheeks hurt from smiling more in the past couple of months getting to know the younger man than he could remember ever before in his life. Maybe Gareth was right – they were googly eyed bastards. But no one else was around to see, so Eddie happily let Steve lay him down on the blanketed ground and suck a pattern of hickeys onto the column of his neck.

So far, his allergies were giving him minimal trouble. In the couple of hours after he’d woken up at noon (band practice was only at 1pm, so sue him), he’d been at his worst and taken a second round of allergy medication – probably just under the amount it would take him to get loopy off of the stuff. It had worked though, to a certain extent. He was still having little semi-regular fits of four or five, much to Steve’s appreciation, but it was just enough that he didn’t feel like a total mess.

He moaned as Steve sucked particularly hard at the junction of his neck and shoulder, vaguely aware of a creeping tickle lurking just beneath the surface. He sniffled and gripped harder at the fabric stretched over Steve’s muscular back, pressing his hips up against the thigh the younger man had lodged firmly between his legs. He continued to lean into the pleasure until the tickle proved too much –  it felt even stronger than before, buzzing insistently and with malicious intent. Fuck, yeah, he was definitely going to –

“S-Steve, mm’gonna-!! HDDZ’tschh!! Higxtt!! Heh’ENGXTCH’ieww! ‘Tssieww!!”

He rocked upwards with the force of them, attempting to suppress them as much as he was able. He aimed them over Steve’s shoulder, delicate clouds of spray misting the thin fabric of his t-shirt. His cock throbbed against the younger man’s thigh as his own legs reflexively squeezed around it, forcing a gasp out of him. Steve tensed before moaning against him, redoubling his efforts and sucking even harder.

“Bless you, Eds. You’re so allergic.”

Eddie felt his face pinken. It was everything he’d been fantasising about months – being with Steve, Steve getting off on him, getting off to his sneezes – but somehow, in this moment, he felt more insecure than he had since his gnarly allergic meltdown months prior. It was so stupid – that whole thing had more than proven to him that Steve didn’t find him disgusting, that he could actually be perceived as attractive even at his absolute worst. He should be fine. Why wasn’t he fine?

The confusion and discomfort brought back his sour mood in an instant, and he gently pushed at Steve. To his credit, the younger man immediately backed off, helping Eddie sit up, a broad hand supporting his back.

“What’s wrong, dude? I didn’t – I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, no, you’re good. It’s just-“

“Allergies bothering you?”

Eddie looked at Steve, saw the genuine concern on his face, but also the way his eyes lit up over the mention of his allergies. His stomach flipped. God, what was wrong with him?

“It’s – it’s not that. I mean, yes, but it’s – it’s-“

He groaned in frustration, gripping his head in hands and leaning forward so that his long tresses fell over his face. Steve sat back, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts. Eddie could practically feel the anxious energy radiating off of him in waves. He had to fix this. He couldn’t let Steve think he was the problem. But god, was he? He opened his mouth to speak, not knowing quite what would come out but willing to give it a try.

“I feel like – and this is gonna sound so strange – but like – maybe you like my – my sneezing, more than you like me? And don’t get me wrong, I get it, man, I’m into the same shit – fuck, you know that. I just – can’t be sure, when I’m having these – reactions, that you’re, you know, with me because you actually like – well, me. Umm…”

He trailed off, letting the meaning of his well-intentioned rambling sink in. It sounded ridiculous, and he cringed waiting for Steve’s reprobation. Instead, he felt Steve gently tilting his head towards his own, forcing him to look into his eyes. He looked painfully sad. Eddie opened and closed his mouth, his vocal tenacity leaving him as quickly as it had come.

“Do I really make you feel that way?” Steve asked in a small voice.

He looked so crestfallen that Eddie had the distinct realisation that this must be what it felt like to kick a puppy.

“Steve, I’m sorry – just ignore what I said, man, it’s cool.”

He watched as the younger man shook his head.

“No. I can’t ignore it. Oh, man,”

Eddie watched him run a hand through his perfect hair, a distinctly anxious gesture.

“I’m not good at this, dude. I’m not good at making people happy. I’m always fucking up but I’m never sure why, and then it blindsides me.”

Eddie shook his head. He opened his mouth, wanting to reassure Steve that he made him happier than anyone he’d ever met before, but paused when the younger man raised a hand softly, signalling to let him finish.

“I try my best to do what I think I should be doing, but no matter what, I’m always waaay off the mark. I know how to hook up with people, but actually getting them to stay is something I just seem to be incapable of.”

He looked at Eddie and smiled. It looked so weary that his heart skipped a beat.

“If I came across, like, overly enthusiastic about the f-fetish stuff,” He faltered slightly, starting to blush. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never been in this position before, and I thought since you liked it too, I didn’t need to hold back. What I mean to say is – I’m good with sex, that’s what I know best. But clearly I’ve done a terrible job of making you realise how much I like you. Because I do like you, man – haven’t felt this way since anyone but Nance, and even then – this is just – it’s a lot.”

Eddie nodded, watching him intently. Steve ran his hand through his hair again.

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry. For making you feel like I was using you just for sex or to scratch some perverted itch. I’m not very smart. I mean, everyone knows that.”

“Steve.”

“And I’m not sure how to make you see that I’m pretty much crazy about you. I thought maybe if I just – showed you in the way I know best-“

“Steve.”

Eddie reached out for him and pulled him into a fierce hug. Steve practically melted in his arms, the emotional spiral Eddie had sensed building up blessedly abating under his touch.

“I like you too. A stupid amount. And I don’t think I did a very good job of letting you know, either.”

He pulled back to look Steve in the eyes.

“I mean, what gives, man? It sounded like you thought I wanted to stop seeing you, or something.”

When Steve gave an awkward shrug, Eddie’s jaw dropped open.

“Harrington, you cannot be serious. Tell me you didn’t genuinely think I wanted to end things with you over that pathetic little monologue of mine?”

“Like I said, man. I’m dumb.”

“Ughh, Steve, you need to stop with this low self-esteem shit, honey,” The pet name slipped out before he could help it, but it didn’t seem to bother the younger man, who snuggled even closer to him.

“How about this? I stop ragging on myself when you actually let yourself believe that I want to be with you for more than a gratuitous lay, alright?” Steve said, jabbing him in the chest with an outstretched finger.

“Ooh, big word.”

“Fuck off!”

Steve wrestled him to the ground, pinning Eddie onto his back whilst the metalhead laughed with raucous abandon. Steve silenced him with a kiss.

“I’m serious, Munson. Wanna be with you. And I’ll back off with the – the sneezing stuff, if you want.”

Eddie smirked up at him.

“Jesus, you’re cute when you’re flustered. And god no, please don’t stop! You’ve convinced me. You like me, I like you, grass is green. We’re both not very good at this. I think we should kiss over it.”

Steve smiled down at him and leaned in to resume their making out when Eddie felt the familiar plip of a droplet of moisture bursting against his cheek. He thought Steve might have actually drooled on him for a split second, when there was another small splash against his forehead. And another. And another.

He craned his neck back to peer up at the sky. Clear and serenely blue only minutes earlier, it was now brimming with chubby, grey rainclouds.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!”

And with that, the heavens opened up.

~~~~

Eddie was pissed. No, that was an understatement – he was livid. He hadn’t had the foresight to expect rain – a summer storm, a typical occurrence in Hawkins, and yet. He’d been so set on taking Steve on a traditional, normal date that he had effectively mentally eliminated any alternative outcomes to their outing other than a romantic little picnic in the afternoon sun, followed by cuddling and sex. Maybe escalating beyond the hand jobs they’d been trading, if they were feeling a little braver.

“God DAMMIT-!” He cursed as the rain seemed to pound down even harder. Luckily, they’d been able to locate a sheltered area on the edge of the clearing and duck into it before it really started to pour, escaping with minimal dampness. And it was warm, so at least they wouldn’t freeze. However, they’d abandoned the blanket and food in their single-minded urgency, realising only after they’d scurried well out of sight from them. His irritation at this mindless fuck up was only further stoked by the physical discomfort he was currently enduring. The way his wet bangs clung to his forehead felt disgusting; his sneakers were damp and his jeans clung to ankles. Alone, these sensations and gripes were inconsequential – but combined, they were a lethal mood killer.

He felt Steve reach out and squeeze his shoulder in consolation. When Eddie didn’t respond, staring moodily down at his own knees as he sat hugging them to his chest, Steve reached out and pulled him into a clumsy side-hug. The older man grunted, not thrilled about feeling even more wet fabric pressed up against his own sopping clothes, but enjoying the physical closeness nonetheless.

“You’re such a grump. A cute little grump.”

Steve murmured in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Eddie knew he could feel the responsive trembling, lips curling into a smile against the shell of his ear.

“Come on, Eds. Compared to what we’ve both been through? This is nothing.”

Eddie sighed, finding that although his bitterness persisted, Steve’s presence was a welcoming distraction.

“Somehow, Stevie, that doesn’t really make me feel any better.”

“Want me to sing you a song? I do a really good Phil Collins.”

The metalhead snorted and butted Steve’s cheek gently with his own.

“You do not. I was present for that Karaoke fiasco, Harrington. Leave it to the professionals.” He jabbed at his own chest with a thumb.

“Whatever, man. You liiiked it.” Steve sing-songed against his jawline.

Eddie meant to respond, but was stopped dead in his tracks by the familiar but daunting sensation of an intensely allergic tickle beginning to culminate. He moaned, reaching up with a fist and roughly mashing his nose around, hoping to bully the urge into submission, but no cigar. He could hear the damp squishing noise his sinuses made, worrying his nostrils pink with the effort. He had forgotten temporarily that if anything seemed to aggravate his allergies even more, it was rain.

He glanced at Steve, already feeling his eyelids fluttering in preparation for the release.

“Hh-Hh!! Steve, really gonnnnaa-hah..!! Hh, Start sneezing in a minute, fuck….”

He took in the hungry expression on Steve’s face, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He managed a little smirk at the way Steve’s eyes flitted about his face, taking in his flaring nostrils one moment, his furrowed brow the next. He sniffled, more to watch how Steve would react, but then realising he was a lot stuffier than he had originally thought.

“Ugh, I’m probably gonna….make a hh-HH!! Hahh mess….”

He heard the soft sound the younger man made in the back of his throat, felt the way the arm slung around his shoulders pulled him incrementally closer.

“That’s ok, Eds. I don’t mind.”

“Mmm, I’m sure you don’t, big boy…Hh!!”

Steve blushed and shot him a bashful little smile. It was probably one of the cutest things Eddie had ever seen, and he suddenly felt just as shy as Steve looked.

“Can I…keep holding you? While you sneeze? Is that ok?”

Eddie pressed a pair of fingers under his flaring nostrils, temporarily abating the building tickle just enough to respond.

“M-more than okaayyy-HH!! Wanted that f-for-! Months, now!! Ohhh, Steve, Mm’gonna-!! Need’ta-!!”

“I’ve got you, baby.”

Eddie’s head swam at the sudden pet name, feeling as if he’d hurtled over the peak of the world’s tallest roller coaster. For a moment, the butterflies and giddiness threatened to overwhelm the need to sneeze, but as always, the tickle in his nose reigned supreme. He sucked in one final choppy breath before he was sent sprawling forward, helpless as the pollen teased him breathless.

“Hh-HHDT!! DZZSSHH’IEWW!! H’ENGXT’TCHIEEWW!! IGSSCH!! GXXT’Shieww!!”

He felt Steve pulling him closer, turning him effortlessly towards him so that he was halfway into his lap and sneezing towards his chest. Each sneeze felt as if they only exacerbated the tickle, leaving him gasping, tears starting to spill down his cheeks.

“HIGG’Shiewww!! EhhHDT’Tchieww!! IGXXT’tsieww!! HHhohh my godddDXXSH’Ieww!! Hahh!”

Everywhere Steve touched him, he burned in exquisite agony. His nostrils flared in and out as the tickle toyed with him, breath hitching dramatically. He knew he was making a scene; knowing that Steve was hanging on to his every gasp and sigh made the experience all the more pleasurable. His cock throbbed in his jeans.

“EHH’GXXTT’SHIieww!! HGSHHH!! GSHHH’ieww!! EHH’NGXTTtchhh!!”

His nose was running down to his top lip now, dangerously close to overflowing. He reached up with a shaky hand, intending to cover, but felt Steve grasp him by the wrist and gently lower it again. By this point, the younger man had shifted him to sit completely in his lap, and as Eddie hitched towards another round of impossibly tickly sneezes, Steve gently pressed his head down to lean against his shoulder. Eddie gripped frantically at the cotton of Steve’s shirt, grounding himself, before sneezing violently down and across the younger man’s chest. He could hear Steve mumbling reassuringly to him throughout.

“Holy shit, Munson, Bless you – Bless you! So tickly…It’s okay, I’ve got you. You sound so good, Eds. So hot. Fuckkk….Bless you, bless you!”

Eddie’s face was burning, both with the effort of the overwhelming reaction to the pollen and the intoxicating pleasure his own sneezes sent pulsing through his body. He would rather someone else sneeze, but damn if his own didn’t get him going when they rendered him a helpless mess like this. His cock twitched with every expulsion, the releases that burst out of him sending pleasant shivers rippling from the base of his skull to the tips of his fingers and toes. Steve’s breathless encouragement only intensified the experience for him.

“hh-HH-HDDT-!! HIGGG’TSHHIEWW!! TSSHIEWW!! EHHSHHH’IEWww!! ENGGXTCHHH!!!”

He felt mess burst from his flared nostrils with that last body-crunching sneeze, sending twin tendrils hanging over his lips. He felt Steve wipe most of it away with his bare fingers, and the kinkiness of the gesture made his hips buck. And still he sneezed.

“GGGSSHH’IIEWW!! Hh, HEH!! Heh’EGXTT’SHieww!! HNGXTCHH!! GXXXTT’Shiewww!!”

Finally, it felt like the tickle was cresting into a definitive, final explosion. He moaned, not sure if he could handle something of the magnitude the building sensation promised, but all the same he was gasping, head jogging against Steve’s shoulder, back expanding within Steve’s embrace. He hitched once, twice, three times before the sneeze held him on the edge in a silent grimace – and then he was lurching forward, almost sending the pair of them sprawling backwards onto the forest floor with the force of it.

“HEEEIHHHH’DZZZTSHHIEWWW!!! Hahhh-!”

He panted, nuzzling his nose against Steve’s shoulder and wrapping his arms round his waist. Dizzy and exhausted, he slumped against the solid weight of the younger man, luxuriating in the aftermath of that all-encompassing fit. He was painfully hard now. He felt Steve stroking his hair and rubbing his back with broad, open-palmed strokes. He opened his bleary eyes for the first time since his fit had begun, previously unable to do so under the persistent assault.

“Jesus Christ…”

He muttered under his breath, taking in the extent of the damage he’d caused. Steve’s baby blue shirt was almost transparent where it clung to his chest, saturated with the result of Eddie’s impressive allergies as it was. There was further mess dripping slowly downwards, gluing the shirt to his abdomen as it sunk into the fabric. He tentatively looked up at Steve, not quite knowing if he had crossed over the delicate line of sexy to disgusting. One quick glance at the former jock’s ruined expression was all it took to reassure him that he was still very much securely in the sexy camp. He smiled coyly.

“Told you I’d make a mess.” He sniffled for emphasis and rubbed his runny nose against Steve’s shoulder until it sported twin damp patches.

Steve kissed into his hair, and Eddie noticed that he was panting too.

“That was – amazing. Holy shit. I mean – wow!!”

Eddie laughed fondly at how winded the other man sounded, more than a little pleased with himself. It felt so good to sneeze as hard as his body desired, and to know that he was turning King Steve on by being a sloppy, allergic mess was more than a little erotic. He felt like he’d come with just a few brisk jerks of his cock.

“Mm’glad you liked it.” He giggled shyly, a little loopy in the aftermath of it all.

Steve lifted his head up gently by the chin, scanning his face with eyes full of emotion.

“Are you okay?? Fuck, that was so intense. Your allergies, man….”

Eddie nodded.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I mean, you heard me – before, at your place. It can get a little – ridiculous, if I’m not on top of medication. Or when I’m outside in the elements. Or when it rains – god, especially when it rains!”

Steve laughed.               

“Yeah, man, I see that now.” He reached down to touch the slick fabric of his shirt. Eddie didn’t miss the way his breath caught as his fingers slipped over it.

Emboldened, he wiped his nose roughly along the back of his hand and a little further up his arm, grateful to be wearing a sleeveless shirt, before gripping Steve by the collar and pulling his head close.

“Want me to get you off, Harrington? Want me to make you come all over the forest floor?” He murmured against Steve’s lips.

Eddie was expecting a moan of some kind, but not the half-strangled groan that Steve emitted, reaching up to cover his burning face with a broad, tan hand. Confused, the metalhead reached down to grip Steve’s erection – finding a distinctly soft cock and a huge wet patch spread across the mouth-wateringly tight Levi’s that the younger man favoured. He gaped, eyes round in surprise, and stared at Steve in a look of silent amazement. Steve peered at him through the protective cage of his fingers and moaned again.

“I – it’s because – you were so-! And I-!”

As Steve flailed and spluttered, a grin spread wider and wider across Eddie’s face. Holy shit. He had made Steve motherfucking Harrington come in has pants, untouched. He had done that. Holy shit.

“Stevie, did you jizz in your pants for little old me?” He drawled, delighting in the deepening blush that spread all the way to the tips of the younger man’s ears. He leaned forward and gently bit one, feeling the heat of the blood radiating from the delicate skin.

“…Yes. I did. I swear, I’m not-! This hasn’t happened before. You’re just…so hot,” Steve admitted, leaning into the tiny kisses that Eddie pressed along the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks.

“So sensitive, Stevie. I like that.”

He kissed Steve firmly on the mouth, both of them moaning at the sensation of Eddie’s slick nostrils and cupid’s bow pressing up against Steve’s own nose. The older man gasped at the sudden grip of Steve’s palm cupping him through his jeans, thrusting into it instinctively. He was about several pumps away from coming into his pants himself when Steve released his hold. Eddie whined, his hips chasing the receding hand in vain. He looked up at the younger man impatiently.

“Can I suck you off?”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open. He hadn’t been expecting that. But the answer was an absolute, resounding yes.

“Please,” he whined against Steve’s mouth, feeling the younger man smile before starting to push him back onto the soft grass and up against the roots of a tree. It wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world, but the desire he felt for Steve eclipsed the minor discomfort. He watched as Steve eagerly unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock, pumping it softly but firmly enough that Eddie’s head knocked back against the tree trunk with a gentle thunk. Steve paused for a moment.

“I should, uh, say – neither of us have been with guys before, so – this is my first time giving head. Sucking cock, I mean. I’m sorry if I’m not all that good after talking such a big game about sex before.”

Eddie let him finish, nodding his head.

“Well, Steve, rest assured that no matter what you do to me, you and your mouth have the unprecedented honour of taking my oral virginity. So go wild, honey.”

Steve blinked at him.

“Really?! You’ve never gotten a blow job before, not even once?”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Now I know it may come as a total shocker to the likes of you, pretty boy, but being the leader of the Hellfire Club and resident freak didn’t exactly leave me swimming in pussy. You’re my first almost everything, basically – or the only person that ever mattered.”

Steve started to jerk him off again.

“Aww, Eds…”

“Don’t patronise me, Harrington, I swear to god.”

“Sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

And with that, Steve took his cock into his mouth and sucked hard. Eddie groaned, reaching forward to grip gently at Steve’s hair but stopping just short, hands hovering in question. Steve peered up at him before guiding his hands to rest on his scalp.

“Just don’t pull hard, okay?”

“ohhh-kayy-ee!!” Eddie whimpered as Steve began to suck and lick him in a punishing rhythm, using one hand to jerk the rest of his cock he couldn’t fit in his mouth. The older man’s eyes rolled back into his head, once again thunking gently against the tree. Steve was a god damn natural. It felt just as good to have a mouth round his cock as he had imagined, moreso, even.

He panted, expression twisted in ecstasy, and looked down the length of his body to watch Steve work. They locked eyes, Eddie unable to look away as Steve’s head bobbed rhythmically, looking prettier than anyone had any right to as their cheek bulged with cock. He wouldn’t last – it was so good, too good, and he was already so on edge.

“God, Stevie, think you're gonna make me come already…! Oh god, oh fuck-!!”

Steve moaned, the vibrations travelling down Eddie’s cock and wrenching a keening wail from him. His eyes scrunched shut, mind replaying the intense sensations of his sneezing fit, the way Steve had held him, the way Steve had actually come in his pants over Eddie spraying him with snot – these pleasurable thoughts combined with a particularly strong suck against the head of his cock pushed him over the edge, coming with a wordless groan. The pleasure was intense, his strongest orgasm in a while, leaving his toes curling in his sneakers. When it finally subsided, he could only moan stupidly, fingers flexing in Steve’s hair.

He felt Steve pulling off of him, and watched as he spat a mouthful of cum onto the ground beside them. Eddie grinned goofily at him, endorphins overloading his system and making this sight far funnier than it should otherwise be.

“You’ll let me snot all over your chest, but you won’t swallow my cum?”

Steve shot him an overly dramatic look of disgust.

“You need to work on your diet.”

Eddie kicked at him feebly. Steve gently tucked him back into his pants and zipped them up.

“So…was I any good?” He grinned in a way that showed he knew just how well he’d done.

“You know you were, asshole. Are you sure that’s the first cock you sucked?”

“Well….I managed to reach the tip of my own with my tongue, one time.” Steve said nonchalantly, pulling Eddie upwards into a sitting position.

“Ha! Better than I managed. Almost threw my back out, and for what?” They both laughed at that.

“Hey, rain’s stopped!” Steve blurted out so suddenly Eddie nearly jumped.

“Shit, finally!”

Eddie made his way to his feet, shaking slightly as his legs were still a little wobbly in the aftermath of his first blow job ever. Steve stood up beside him and slapped him on the back in that distinctive fashion that all jocks and former jocks would continue to do for the rest of their lives.

“Let’s go find the stuff and then we can head to m-my place…Hh!!”

Eddie’s ears perked up immediately. He spun round and watched in delight as Steve barrelled forward with a sudden harsh triple, aimed haphazardly into an upraised elbow.

“HARRESSSHHIEWW!! AESSSHHHUU!! HHRRRSHHH’UU!! Ugh, god…’scuse me.” He sniffled and gently swiped under his nose with a crooked finger.

Even though he was still practically reeling in the aftermath of the orgasm he’d had not minutes earlier, Eddie’s spent cock gave an appreciative little twitch at the spraying sound of those powerful sneezes.

“Bless you, Stevie. Your timing is a little off, but I’ll take it.”

Steve laughed and nudged him gently with his shoulder, looking even more pleased with himself.

“The damp’s getting to me a little. Come home with me? It’s warm and we can…clean up.” He gestured towards his ruined t-shirt.

“Yeah. I’d like that. And Steve?” Eddie said as they made their way towards the clearing.

“Mmhm?”

“I think I want you to come in my mouth next.”

Steve yanked him forward by the wrist, breaking out into a half-run and slipping haphazardly on the wet grass, and Eddie laughed until tears pricked at the corner of his eyes.

~~~~~~

(Idk why I always write Steve cumming in his pants lmao.....he just looks like he would to me����)

[strangelittlestories]

Ms Muffet had just finished eating her day's sixth bowl of curds and whey and was squeezing in a quick set of shoulder raises when the call came in.

"Muffet, this is Tuffet Base, reporting an urgent SOS." The voice on the radio wobbled like one of those aspic meat jellies that was popular in the 70s. Personally, Muffet had never cared for them: not enough macros.

"Repeat, this is an urgent SOS.” The voice continued. “Come in, Muffet!"

Muffet set down the weights, wiped sweat from her brow and swallowed one more bite of delicious sour protein mush. She picked up the radio.

"Muffet, receiving. Please provide your security phrase and emergency code. Over."

"Phrase as follows: I love to churn my own butter, but it sure does make my wrist ache. Over.”

“Have you tried finger stretches? They’re a good, low-intensity way to build wrist strength. Over.”

“It’s no good. The butter is simply too thick. Over.”

Muffet’s jaw tensed. This phrase meant the distress call was serious. As serious as a heart attack in a country without nationalised healthcare.

“Phrase confirmed. And the emergency code?” Muffet thought for a second before adding. “P.s. finger stretches really are a great starting exercise for wrist strength. Over.”

“Advice appreciated, Muffet, someday we’ll all be as swole as you, gods willing.” For a moment, the wobble in his voice stilled. “Code is 8-Ball. Over.”

Muffet’s face went grim.

“You can’t tell because we’re on the radio, but fyi, my face just went super grim. Over.”

“Understandable, Muffet. I know you have a history with these things. Can you help us? I don’t mean to pressure you, but if we don’t get help I’m afraid it’s all over. Uh, over.”

Muffet took a deep breath and gently squeezed a stress toy in the shape of a bottle of milk with googly eyes. The stress toy exploded into scraps of foam at even the gentlest force from Muffet’s iron grip. Muffet pulled an identical stress toy from a crate and destroyed that one too.

“I’ll be right over. Uh, over.”

“Thank the gods for you, Muffet.”

- - -

As the Muffet-copter wheeled around over Tuffet Base, Ms Muffet surveyed the damage. Smoke was trailing up from the outer turrets and there was the faint sound of screams, audible even over the heavy whup-whup of chopper’s rotors.

And there were *things* crawling crawling over the base’s walls and swarming towards the central compound.

“Put him in a holding pattern, Gerald.” Muffet called to her footsman in the pilot’s seat.

Gerald - whose piloting was as expert as his meal-planning - did as instructed.

As the helicopter swooped lower and began to hover steadily around the base, Muffet quickly donned a harness and attached a rappel line. Then she jumped and fell like a majestic lemming towards the ground.

The line splayed out behind her to slow her descent, but she still landed with a thump (and in perfect superhero pose) ahead of the advancing swarm. Muffet straightened up and squared up to the largest spider who led the charge.

She was trembling, but even she couldn’t tell you if it was from fear or anger.

“Listen up, you octoped fuckos and silk-shitting creepos.” She called out with all the thundering force of a ripshit diaphragm. "I came here to kick ass and eat curds and whey. And guess what, I’m all out of curds."

"Not even you will stop us, Muffet.” The spiders chittered in unison back at her. “We have dwelled in lonely darkness for too long, it is time once more for us to build a community in the light. All will join us or will flee in terror."

“Oh buddy, weren’t you listening? You think you’re gonna come out on top, but…” Muffet put on a pair of sunglasses, “...there’s just no whey.”

[ink-and-dagger]

At least we can always count on @chickenparm to make our day a little worse. You're my forever inspiration bby 🖤

The Sphincter of Zaun

Silco x Reader || Crack-fic || Farting to assert dominance

You knew pinto beans for lunch was a bad idea.

And as is the way of the universe; the consequences of such terrible decisions always catch up with you eventually. The repercussions of your delicious but risky mid-day meal arrive in the form of a gurgle in the depths of your stomach.

You shift in your seat upon the red sofa and shoot a surreptitious glance over towards the desk, but the Eye of Zaun is far too engrossed in his ledgers to notice your digestive distress. Thank Janna.

You exhale in muted relief.

But for the second time today, your decision making is poor. You should know better than to relax when trapped pockets of bean gas are wreaking havoc on your bowels.

It's hardly an impressive fart, (with concentrated effort, you're able to replicate the splendour of a Jim Morrison scream), but in the quiet office it feels earth-shattering. You squeeze your asscheeks together in a desperate attempt to put an end to this pinto-fuelled nightmare, but it only causes your flatulence to rise drastically in pitch – tapering off in a soprano trill until it's punctuated by a final pitiful squeak.

Silco's gaze rises from his paperwork, painfully slowly, to meet yours. And all you can do is stare right back. Wide-eyed and mortified. You can't even bring yourself to breathe. (Mainly because you don't want him to think you're checking out your own handiwork).

"Rather uncouth, don't you think?"

Silco's deadpan drawl only increases your desire for immediate death. You've a sudden urge to crawl through the Undercity in search of an even deeper fissure to slink down into, like a roach fleeing the sunlight.

Embarrassed beyond comprehension, and desperately attempting to stay put in your seat despite the adrenaline urge to flee – you reach instead for your go-to defence mechanism. Humour.

Too bad that you aren't actually very funny.

"What's the matter? Jealous? Bet you can't manage more than a dusty little waft with that sorry tortilla tuchus of yours."

The world falls into complete and utter silence, other than the razor sching of Silco's gaze honing to a lethal sharpness. He rises slowly from his chair, and his gold-tipped boots click an unhurried, ominous tempo as he rounds the desk.

An absent part of you prays that the smell of your fart has dissipated. But you're mostly captured by the sheer magnetic power of the man stalking towards you, and the heat that pools in your lower belly now has very little to do with pinto beans.

Silco arrives in front of you; severe, lean, and looming. The cast of his shadow lengthens as he bends closer, resting a hand on the back of the sofa beside your shoulder, and harshly capturing your jaw with the other.

Your heart lodges in your throat at the penetrating intensity of his dual-eyes drilling into yours. You couldn't look away even if you wanted to. His fingers dig into your skin as the silence stretches.

Minutes or moments pass, until it finally seems as though he might speak. Diaphragm shifting slightly beneath his gilded waistcoat, mouth tensing as though in preparation to form words. But none come.

Instead, Silco lets rip the nastiest, foulest, ass aria that you could ever imagine. Your hair lifts away from your face, and flaps in the gale-force blast of his deathly, harmonic expulsion – all at once the most beautiful and horrifying thing you've ever heard, like a thousand screaming angels. The paintings on the office wall rattle in their frames at the sheer magnitude of his digestive capabilities, at least a 6 on the Richter scale. And your eyes water both in sheer awe of his unbridled dominance, but also at the tidal-wave stench that hits you; cigar ashes, loca mocha java monster energy drink, and kalamata olives.

With a final push that momentarily strains the scarred trenches upon his face, he concludes his transcendent fart in a blaze of fervid, vibrato glory.

Silence once more falls to blanket the room, and you blink up at him. Lashes heavy with awe-stricken tears, and mouth hanging agape.

Silco leans closer, and his gaze is as hot as the sparks you swore you saw shooting out of his ass.

"Do not ever underestimate me again."

[operator-th3s3us]

Right Here. (König x Fem!Reader)

(Its gonna be ass cause idk how to write this type of stuff lol)

You looked at your partner, he didn't speak much. He didn't need to speak, he was intimidating by his stature and broadness. He was your silent partner, your superior officer as he was a Colonel, and you, a Sergeant. You looked to your right where he was positioned with a sniper on a building further off, you heard him pull the bolt back and load a new bullet. Your radio crackled a bit as his heavy German accent came to life. “Two tangos to the left out of the next alleyway.” He spoke. You stayed silent before you heard a suppressed shot from the other side of the radio.

“Target down. Heh, and they said I couldn't be a sniper.” You snickered slightly as he spoke, you walked towards the warehouse cautiously and peeked through a window. You almost let out a blood curling scream as you felt a jolt of pain in your back, you had been stabbed.

Which winds you up to where you are right now, in the infirmary with your Colonel next to you in an arm sling, shirtless, and bandages all over his chest. You looked at him with a smirk, “so… You do care about me enough to risk your life?” The smirk on your face almost disappeared when you looked into his worried gaze.

König sighed at stared at your face before speaking, “I do care, kleiner eine... I'm not great at speakingin fact, I'm not good at it. I can say, though, I do care, a hell of a lot. You were the one person who didn't give up on me when I got so nervous I couldn't speak during my trainings. So thank you, Y/N.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes, “Yeah yeah König, anyway what the hell happened for you to get those injuries?” You asked, he looked down with an awkward laugh.

He watched as you collapsed next to the wall in his scope, he immediately aimed at the person who shot you before pulling the trigger… but click… Nothing happened? He started to curse in German as he tried to un jam the gun, “Verdammtes Stück Scheißgewehr, warum besorgen wir uns denn nicht neue? Das ist richtig, wir haben lähmende Schulden aus dem Ersten und Zweiten Weltkrieg wegen ein paar gierigen Scheißstücken.” He said, but he went silent when he heard a footstep. He rolled on to his back, ready to defend himself, but didn't expect a heel of a boot to directly hit his diaphragm. Even with his vest on, it knocked the air out of him before the soldier stomped on his chest over and over again, he heard the cracking of ribs as he was stomped on.

He sat up after finally catching his breath and gathering the strength, when he finally fully sat up, he saw a knife coming for his mask. A burning sensation came through his face as the knife cut into his temple.

You blinked, “What happened to your foot?” You asked, pointing to the cast, “and your arm?” He laughed softly, “I continued to fight the man and ended up rolling off the building with him, it broke my leg, popped the other out of place and it fractured my collarbone.” You blinked, it's seemed… Reasonable. Yet while you talked to your superior, you couldn't help but smile,

König, your superior officer of many months that had been very closed off socially with you, had finally opened up to you.

[pikmingrubb]

Lalo Salamanca X reader

made for @slamminslamminmcgill, go check em out, they have literally all the best shit you could want in this fandom

tags: smut, torture, kidnapping,name calling, verbal humiliation, slapping, fucking, cock sucking, homophobic language, gustavo x reader mentions,

Word Count: 2,551

“Fuck you, ass hole! I don’t know anything about that! I don’t even know you! ” your voice snarled at the person in front of you, everything around you was shadowed, dust flew and glittered in what light you did have. You coughed slightly, pain throbbing in the abdomen, you leaned forward against the rope that twisted around your body, binding you to the chair. 

Breathing was difficult, your diaphragm screamed in protest at every shallow intake you had, a wheeze was heard every time you exhaled. Staring at your duct-taped feet, you saw blood splatter against the dirt ground, soaking in and becoming a dark wet hue—the thirsty land absorbed all tears and blood you could possibly give it. 

A vicious look twitched onto Lalo’s face, he had been digging into you for the past half hour, and nothing. 

“I don’t like liars, you know that little chicken man, I’ve seen you around him.” He stepped forward and grasped your chin in his hand harshly, he angled you up to stare you dead in the face, cringing as his nails dug into your cheeks. 

“I worked at his restaurant, so fucking what? You’re telling me he’s a fucking cartel dealer? I didn’t know anything about that!” A smack flew across your face as soon as your words came out, Lalo stepped closer to you, his legs between your knee and his hand grasping your throat. The chair tilted back as he choked the very life from you, 

“If you’re lying this will be the end, no negotiation, no more talking. The end of the line for you, chico. Cause, I really don’t like just killing innocents for the hell of it.” He smiled while his fingers dig farther into your jugular, no response could escape but a strange gargle of desperation for oxygen, your vision fading and eyes closing. 

He released his grasp on you slightly, allowing you to come back, but his fingers still caressed your throat lines, his grin hadn’t slipped for a second. “Think about it carefully, but not too slow…” He said tapping your temple and pulling away. 

Head bobbing slightly as you tried to regain oxygen into your system while your eyes peered up from your lashes. “I-I…fuck…I’m telling the truth, I was around him a few times after work, but it wasn’t for cartel shit like you think…” Your face was flushed red from both rough smacks and embarrassment. 

Lalo said nothing but waited for a second, his steely gaze calculating upon your response, his eyebrows rose. 

“Oh….OH, you didn’t?” His face practically split, emotions turning from surprise to mock disgust. His chest shook as he laughed, he took a step back waving his gun around and pointing it at you with a smirk. “You two? You two…went down and dirty?” 

You just about died right then and there, you had been beaten half to death but now your captor was laughing at you, mocking your very existence. You’d rather have been punched in the gut ten more times than have him bark in laughter at your pathetic form before him. 

“I didn’t think he was the kind of man to fuck little faggots like you.” He said coming closer, his hand shoving his gun into his waistband again. Thank god …Your eyes watched his hips with relief knowing he wasn’t gonna be swinging it around again, at least for a little while. 

Rough hands gripped your shoulders as he leaned in closer, his lips centimeters from your ear, your hair stood on end as a flash of fear shuddered down your body. 

“It’s a shame he ruined a perfectly good toy, yeah?” His voice was practically dripping with sex, low and soft, each word hitting your core like a shock. Your leg twitched a little as you felt your cock ache suddenly, your mind reeled, you weren’t sure if you were supposed to be aroused or disgusted. 

“But, I think I can work with that…Ruin you for anyone else, fuck you so good, and drop you back off to the chicken man’s doorstep, covered in my cum.” He smirked leaning back and looking into your eyes, your pupils blown wide. “Te gustaria eso, verdad? Chico sucio …” He patted your cheek roughly standing back up. 

Your eyes watched him in a trance, he went for a razor blade, oh fuck, oh god. Your mind started panicking, your body going rigid as you gave him a look of horror as he sauntered back to you. 

“Oh, que lindo ! You look so scared, what’s wrong?” He said chuckling, waving the shining blade before you, he swiped it within a hair's length of your face. You braced for the pain, but nothing. Instead, the tape on your wrists was looser suddenly, he was now crouching down on the floor carefully cutting the tape from your ankles.

You just watched in shock, saying nothing, and swallowing the sharp lump that had formed in your throat. He glanced back up at you from down below you, a smile on his face, “You thought I was gonna slice you, yeah?” He remarked, wiping his nose and standing up. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you like that…unless you’re into that?” He asked, squinting his eyes and tilting his head at you. You quickly shook your head, fear igniting in your body once again. 

Removing your hands from the sticky tape was harder than it looked, your flesh feeling sore and itchy from being taped up for hours. Lalo just watched you struggle, when you were mostly free his hands descended on you, immediately undoing your belt loop and unzipping your pants. 

The shock from what was happening had barely registered before he was already tugging down your pants to rid you of them, you tried desperately to stop his hands as they traveled down and gently removed each foot from the pants. 

“L-Lalo…No, wait!” You struggled before him, a light chuckle just rose from his throat, “What? Don’t even think about trying to wiggle out of this, I know you’re just a dirty whore who only wants cock in him.” He sneered at you once again, tracing his hand up the front of your legs, squeezing your inner thigh while looking up at you with a predatory gaze. 

“No-no…guh…not that.” You struggled, a small whimper left your lips when he grabbed your crotch, searching for something that wasn’t there. A strange look fell onto his face, confusion mixed with curiosity, he dug in deeper. His fingers slipped past the boxer's front slip only for a grin to break out on his face. 

“Ohhh, ninito, that’s adorable. Scared about me finding out not only are you a little cunt boy, but that Gustavo liked fucking your little cunt.” His fingers stroked your cock with a grin, a moan left your mouth without a second's hesitation. He slipped his fingers back out and shoved them in your open mouth, “ Chupar… ” You got the basic instructions and started sucking slowly on his fingers. He beamed watching you suck wantonly at his soaked digits, your nose exhaling deeply as you tried to focus on literally anything other than the slickness between your legs and the ache of your cock. 

Once he was satisfied, or bored really, he removed his fingers and stood up and leaned down near your crotch area with the blade, “We don’t need these…” slice, you jumped slightly as he completely tore your boxers off and flung them elsewhere. 

His knee spread your legs out on either side of the chair, his face had lost the grin and now sat at a slight incline of a smile, still absolutely terrifying. His eyes watched you intently as his hands worked deftly at his belt, zipper opening and making his pants sag slightly around his hips. He wasted no time slipping his cock from his underwear confines and letting it stand in its full glory in front of you. 

He held the base lightly and it bobbed in the air, appetizing and mouth-watering. He didn’t have a large cock, but his girth was almost surprising, his fingers slicked up his length and his thumb brushing against the tip smearing precum over himself. 

He just watched you with lidded eyes as he worked himself up, length fully stiff now, his veins popping out and a red hue kissing the tip, his breathing seemed more ragged as he watched you practically drool over his cock. 

“Abrir.” He spoke, shoving his cock towards your lips, your eyes watched him as you gently opened your mouth, head instinctively moving forward to take his length into your mouth. The taste of salty sweat hits your taste buds as his head travels across your tongue, you curl your lips against his heat and push him as far as he could go down your throat. 

A low groan ripped from Lalo’s throat as his fingers traveled through your hair, gripping you as you swallowed and greedily slurped on his cock. “Holy shit, nene! No wonder the chicken man kept you around! Practically sucking my fucking cock right off!” He thrusted harshly into your mouth, abusing you and you thanked the gods that your gag reflex was nonexistent. 

Breathing through your nose became labored as you tried to keep your cool and relax as you gulped on his cock holding his hips as he tittered and thrust into you. 

“Shit…aha, dios mio you look so cute around me.” He purred giving you a particularly harsh thrust, you choked. Okay, maybe I still have a gag reflex, tears brimmed, you pulled out and away from his sopping-wet cock, trying not to go into a coughing fit. A smirk rose to his lips, “Ohh, did my Chiquito…Take more than he could handle?” Lalo murmured ruffling your hair and grinning down at you. 

“Mmm, don’t worry, we’ll switch things up, I wanna feel your tight boy cunt around me.” He grinned grabbing your shoulders to jerk you upward and spinning you around. 

Your arms instinctively braced against the backrest, hands gripping the metal, and Lalo’s hands grasping your waist pulling your rear towards him. You let out a surprised noise as his cock slid through your lips and brushed against your cock, he was coating himself with your slick. 

Spreading your legs, you let Lalo get in closer, the front buttons of his shirt grazing your behind as he gently used his hand to guide the tip of his cock to your entrance. 

“Better hold on tight, nene.” He said giving your ass a harsh slap before he swiftly entered you, completely sheathing himself inside you, his hot length filling every inch of your insides. A moan ripped itself from your lips as he bottomed out inside of you, the tip of his cock resting inside you, letting you feel him inside you before slowly removing his entire length save the tip. 

One of your hands closed around your mouth as you tried stifling the moans that rose from you, the sounds of slick wetness and Lalo’s cock abusing your cunt could be heard. His pace quickened until you were practically crying as he repeatedly pushed against your cervix, filling you and stretching your tight hole. 

“Haha! Do you like that? I can feel you tighten around me.” His voice rasped, he reached around and rubbed your cock while he slammed into your hips with vigor. You clenched even harder around him at this, Lalo letting out a harsh gasp of air. 

Lalo put one hand on your back and slowly pushed you down until you were practically bent in half, his cock hitting a new angle that made your legs shake. 

“Oh….OH fuck…Lalo, yes, fuck. Like that!” You gasped, mouth agape as you tried to hold onto reality as he fucked you faster hearing your pleas. His nails dug into your hips as he rocked into you, slowing his strokes and deepening them. You enjoyed the slower pace as you were able to focus on the softer thrusting of his cock, letting you feel his ridges and the scraping of his head against your g-spot, milking you. 

You were nothing but a fuck toy as he completely filled you, he focused on hitting that same spot that made you cry out his name, his grin widening as he could imagine Gustavo being absolutely devastated at finding out his plaything was ruined by his cock. 

The very thought of this made Lalo speed up, his hips stuttering as he forced himself to go as deep as possible, wanting to completely empty his balls inside you until you dripped with his cum. 

“Come on, come on my cock. I know you want to.” Lalo teased feeling you tighten around him with every thrust, he tried to hold back until you were spasming around him and begging for release. You let out a low moan, feeling the edge of your orgasm crash down on you, rapid breaths escaping your lips. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, Lalo please come inside me….” You begged, crimson exploding from your face as you covered yourself, you can’t believe you’re asking a complete stranger who kidnapped you to dump his load in you. 

Lalo continued stroking your cock, the last straw before your orgasm hit you, you keeled forward in the chair, Lalo holding your hips up to support you from falling over. 

“There we go, good boy, cum on my cock.” He praised feeling you tighten and spasm around his cock that still pounded into you, Lalo gave a few more thrusts through your orgasm before bottoming out in you and releasing a loud moan. His cock pulsed and throbbed inside you as he shot his seed as deep as he could go, his nails leaving bruising upon your hips. 

You both panted and stayed in that position, with Lalo still throbbing inside your cunt, as you both caught your breath. You tried to keep upright, but your legs felt uneasy, and Lalo himself was recovering slowly and standing back upright, his hands still on you as he slowly slipped out. His seed dripped out of you slowly as his softened cock was tucked back into his pants. 

“Hah…Hope you liked that,” He grinned buckling his pants back up, you just looked back at him with an exhausted and satisfied look on your face. Completely high on sex and oxytocin flooding your system, Lalo chuckled a little seeing your tired state. He gently grabbed your pants off the floor and handed them to you. 

“Maybe you should just come to me when you want your needs fulfilled,” Lalo winked, “Forget that chicken man, not to mention he’s dangerous and will kill you if he ever finds out you bent over for me.” You practically scoffed hearing that he was warning you about someone dangerous as if he hadn’t been torturing you earlier for information you didn’t have.

“Sure, maybe next time ditch the rope, please…” You commented slipping into your pants and cringing at the feeling of cum staining the inside of your pants because of your defiled underwear. Lalo just grinned and slapped your back harshly grabbing his keys to drive you back into the suburbia you knew. 

[withered-rose-unbreakable-lotus]

About Show's voice

Honestly it's a good thing I go to Jrock one only for news, otherwise I'd be arguing every damn day. I go back to comments on A9's and Kiryu's hiatus in case sb heard sth more, cause some of those fans do live in Japan, but when I see stupidity I can't deal.

I saw people claiming that Show isn't a good vocalist, that that takes from their songs lately and that there was more passion in older songs etc etc. Let's talk music shall we? When you don't like a singer doesn't make them bad. It makes them not YOUR taste.

When A9 started their career Show's singing style wasn't "correct". There was more to his voice that couldn't be heard, cause of the way he was breathing while singing (many jrockers sing "with the nose" as you might have noticed or run out of breath easily and it takes practice to learn to sing while holding breath in the stomach and not the chest). However, at that time was also when Show's voice depth was showing better. Songs like Velvet are proof of that. All that changed later on, though. By the time songs like Gemini, Hana etc came to life, you could hear his voice was coming out smoother, it had highs and lows, nice turns etc.. PSC gave them a chance to a vocal instructor which believe it or not, not many companies in the vkei scene were willing to pay for. As long as the dudes were hot and were bringing people in, the companies didn't bother. Hell most bands never had a manager, it was usually the leader that took up all that work, while also perhaps composing or writing lyrics and designing, learning only through experience and asking around.

In recent years Show's voice seems to have changed again but in a different way (the flatness that comment I speak of, mentioned). After they left PSC, things remained the same for a few years but then it came. I notice the same change in Ryoga's voice (Razor, ex. BORN). Ryoga is one of the few vocalists that brings up what is going on in the scene regarding vocals and has been open about his troubles with his voice the last few years. Screaming fucks a voice up unless done right. Ruki's (the Gazette) screams seem to be less painful because he changed his technique. Still harmful but not as much as Ryoga's. Ryoga is one of those who goes to extremes though and has said that he will keep screaming until his voice dies. He needs a better instructor though and lots of resting cause he also deals with the second big voice killer in their scene and which applies to Show more too, since he doesn't scream much, the repeated lives. Vkei artists play way too many shows around the year, and not with breaks in between. They could be performing one afternoon, then run straight to a hotel, get their things, move to the next one and have only a few hours of sleep until the next show (I know every band in the world does that but to the extent they do it, there, is a bit too much. Also that + lacking guidance on how to deal with your voice shows us why so many vkei vocalists had to deal with vocal issues and losing their voice completely). Show has been doing that way too much, since he also belongs to a band that had many gigs and even though 2020 forced everyone sit their ass down and take a break, it already had done its damage.

It's not just a matter of passion to keep your voice healthy and tension up. Unlike other instruments like strings, drums etc, the voice is more delicate and even the things you consume can fuck it up. A guitarist won't lose his ability to play guitar if he smokes. A vocalist who smokes though will affect his breathing and vocal tone. If you want proof of why Show's voice could be sounding like that now, you can try singing one of their difficult songs. Try Gemini. The breathing in this song is crazy to me. If you like singing and know your breathing, try singing that song. Keep the highs high, no falsettos. If you aren't exhausted after that, either your diaphragm is a badass, or you do have better technique (most vocalists who've been doing this professionally can probably pull it off easily but it still is tiring). Imagine this song sang every day among other songs, for more than 1 year, shows that last 2 hours.

Show is a good vocalist, his voice simply isn't for everyone (no vocalist will ever be for everyone) and especially now that it's in a "weaker" state than what most people are probably used to.

[overlookedfile]

I posted 3,503 times in 2022

That's 3,503 more posts than 2021!

129 posts created (4%)

3,374 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@heythereimashley

@illiana-mystery

@heartofhubris

@unitedfandomsoftheworld

@fuckyeahalfredmolina

I tagged 3,125 of my posts in 2022

Only 11% of my posts had no tags

#alfred molina - 1,359 posts

#plot bunny - 347 posts

#support the arts - 310 posts

#❤️ - 252 posts

#doc ock - 155 posts

#fanfic - 121 posts

#tw fuckyeahalfredmolina - 119 posts

#writing - 114 posts

#three pines - 112 posts

#❤️❤️❤️ - 111 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#tldr; go read the books if you want but definitely plan to watch the show when it comes out so we can get at least 2 seasons of this

I sent 3 gifts in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Angel: 'I think I'm falling in love with you'

It took me a minute to come up with something for this one, only because I didn’t want to re-write something I’ve read from someone else (who arguably has written it better anyway) or copy a scene from the WiP I’m already writing. Not sure it’s very original, but here you go.  ~ ~ ~ Rating: Teen (lots of cussing) Pairing: Angel x Prostitute Summary: Almost got hung myself once. Didn’t care for it much. Length: Drabble Approx. Reading Time - 5 minutes (200 words/minute)

Angel had barely levered himself up from the bed, extending himself to reach for his boots, when the door banged open. Even before the whore screamed, before the double barreled shotgun had begun to swing toward him, he threw himself at the window. It shattered against his shoulder and he tumbled ass over teakettle onto the porch roof. He plummeted to the ground, landing with a terrible thud that drove all the air out of his lungs.

"Son of a bitch! Get him!"

Diaphragm still paralyzed, he struggled to his feet and staggered towards the hitching post. All at once his lungs expanded, greedily sucking in as much air as they could hold, and he fumbled to free the reins. There was ruckus inside the brothel now, heavy tread coming down the stairs at a rapid clip, and men yelling, women screaming and shouting.

He was already turning his horse, one foot barely in the stirrup, ready to gallop as soon as he got his ass in the saddle, when the first shot rang out. Fuck. That had come from across the street. Abandoning half the plan, he locked his hands around pommel and cantle and crouched low in the stirrup, throwing his other knee into the animal's side instead of over it. Muscles flexed and bunch, not unlike the way his own were coiled in that moment, and the beast took off.

Trick riders might make that sort of thing look easy, but Angel was no trick rider. He was just a man desperate to escape a potentially fatal situation. Jostled and snatched around, he clung to the saddle for dear life and did his best to guide the horse by reins alone. The gunshots faded a little as that end of town fell away behind him, enough for him to risk throwing himself over the saddle. It knocked the air out of him like a punch in the gut, but he got his other leg over as the beast threatened to bounce him off.

Ahead he could see approaching silhouettes. He slowed his mount for a stride or two, evaluating, then a shot whizzed by his ear. More enemies. "Shit!"

His horse sat practically on its ass as he demanded a sudden halt and they pivoted, launching off in a new direction. Blasting through the alley between buildings, praying no pretentious city types had dared to put up any fences, they raced to get out of town. He had just enough time to register that something was moving through the air in his direction, enough time to choke up on the reins but not enough time to convey any new information to his mount, when the oak board caught him in the face.

Blinded by the explosion of pain, he was driven backward out of the saddle, rolling over his horse's flank and smashing face down into the dirt just as he lost consciousness.

Waking up wasn't particularly pleasant, either. He couldn't breathe, couldn't smell anything but the rancid metallic scent of old blood. Which he could also taste, unfortunately, and it was just as foul. His whole face throbbed with the beat of his heart, but especially his nose. Definitely broken. Squinting, groaning, he took in his situation.

Hands bound behind his back. Rope around his neck. Seated on a chair. In the middle of nowhere and nothing. Damn.

"You awake, yet, you cheating son-of-a-bitch?"

He glared back at the ugly cuss who'd spoken and the posse at his back. "Yeah, I'm awake."

His words came out as thick as the glob of coagulated blood and saliva he spit in their direction. Even talking made his nose hurt worse, and he hadn't thought that'd be possible. He didn't need to ask why they'd strung him up. It hadn't been all that long ago that he'd taken their money.

"I told you you'd regret crossing me," the smug bastard reminded him.

"I didn't cheat you." He jerked his chin in their direction. "I didn't cheat any of you. You suck at cards, that's all. Shouldn't bet what you can't stand to lose. Everybody knows that."

"That right? Well, I guess you made your last bet, stranger."

The brute raised his gun, aiming somewhere under Angel's feet, and pulled the trigger. He heard glass shatter and the chair swayed dangerously. Eyes widening, he dared turn his head to look as best as he could. There were boards under his chair, layers of them with gaps between. If the broken glass was any indication, those gaps held materials that would destabilize beneath him with each shot they took. Another bullet came his direction, taking out another bottle from between the boards, and Angel shut his eyes to pray to a god he hadn't believed in for more than a decade.

More shots rang out then, a cacophony of them, and then other noises. Shouting. Yelling. Audible chaos. He opened his eyes again as a last shot faded into the hills. Standing on the other side of a field of corpses was a familiar face with a revolver in each hand and a third tucked into the front of her dress.

Never in his life had Angel been happier to see a prostitute, even if his grin brought fresh blood gushing over his mustache. Behind her, he could see his horse with his boots and hat resting across the saddle.

"I think I'm falling in love with you," he hollered to her.

Letting spent casings drop to the ground at her feet, she began to reload with ammunition purloined from the dead men. It wasn't like they would need it anymore. "Don't make me shoot you, too, sweetheart. I'd hate to lose my best customer because he lost all his good sense."

40 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

#4

Touch-starved Ricardo! 'You're legally obligated to keep holding me.' And 'I haven't been hugged in years.'

Oooh. I like this. Probably not what you were thinking, but it's what came to mind. Thank you muchly. ~ ~ ~ Rating: PG-13 Pairing: DDA Evelyn Price x DDA Ricardo Morales Summary: A witness interview doesn't go well. Length: Drabble Approx. Reading Time - 3 minutes (200 words/minute)

Ricardo can see the tension building in his co-lead. It's there in the set of her shoulders, but most especially in the way her hands are clenched against her thighs beneath the table. He's been watching it grow for the past hour, winding tighter like the click-click-click of a ratchet with every snide remark and scathing insult recorded into the deposition from their witness. Well, the defense's witness.

He'd been sure she would say something. He hadn't chosen to work with her for her meekness of spirit, after all, but she'd kept her tongue thus far. She was too professional to make a scene that could affect her career. Which meant he would have to address it.

"Alright, Ms. Grace. I think we'll take a break here," he announces, scribbling his last notes onto the page and closing the file. "Would you like anything? A drink or something to eat?"

Again proving herself the negation of her name, the young woman derides him for wasting yet more of her time. He takes it to mean she's fine as she is. When they leave the room, closing the door on the witness, he cups Evelyn's elbow and steers her towards his office. She doesn't resist, doesn't even act surprised.

The moment he gets the door shut behind them, she darts forward. It takes him by surprise and he nearly stumbles as her arms close around his waist. Hesitant, he lowers his hands to her shoulders.

"You're legally obligated to keep holding me," she informs him before he can say a word.

It provokes a laugh and the tension bleeds away. He looks fondly down at the top of her dark hair. "Why is that?"

"If you don't, I might just kill that horrible woman."

"That's a bold thing to say to a deputy D.A.," he observes, but holds her just a little tighter nonetheless. A beat passes, then two, and he can feel his heart rate dropping to restful, lethargic levels. "I haven't been hugged in years," he remarks quietly.

"That's a shame, because you're very nice to hug," Evelyn responds. Her arms relax, sinking around his hips. In turn, he shifts his arms lower on her back, holding her a little closer. "That's better," she sighs. "You're good at this."

He can't quell the smile that lifts the corners of his lips. "Gracias."

"De nada." She turns her head, hiding her face against his tie and mumbling something he can't make out.  

Her breath warms his skin beneath his shirts. "I didn't catch that."

"This isn't very becoming of me, is it?" she asks a little louder from the same position.

He doesn't even need to think about it. "We all have something that gets under our skin. I'm not sure why this woman has gotten under yours, but I'm actually quite proud of how you handled yourself in that room. I, on the other hand, have a reputation for my temper."

"It is a hell of a temper," she agrees and he can feel her smile against him before she starts to pull away.

"Ah." He resists just a little, letting her feel his reluctance to let go. "Maybe just another few minutes?"

"Thank you."

She leans in again, shuffling further into his personal space, and he sighs as he curls his hands around her much smaller frame. It's fine if she thinks he's doing it for her. She doesn't need to know he's the one who yearns for the comfort of being held.

49 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

#3

MasterList - Alfred Molina

My Fiction - Alfred Molina Characters

Author’s Note: Likely no updates from 8/19 through 9/1 due to work. Sorry.

Updated: 10/23/2022

This is to help keep a list for me of what I’m working on, need to work on, what I’ve done, etc. A sort of accountability chart, if you will.

For brevity sake, I’ve moved everything under a cut.

Listed Alphabetically by Fandom (”The” ignored in titles that start with)

~ ~ ~

Chocolat - Comte de Reynaud

Temper Us in Fire - WiP - Chapters 6 of ? (Updates on SUNDAYs)

~ ~ ~

Da Vinci Code, The - Bishop Manuel Aringarosa

Sins of the Father - WiP (not posted)

~ ~ ~

Indiana Jones series - Satipo

“Para Mi” Series (Posted Order)

Legendary Reputations - Complete

Writing a New History - WiP (not posted)

~ ~ ~

Law & Order: LA - Ricardo Morales

“12 Hours” Series (Chronological Order)

Motive  - Complete

Means - Complete

Opportunity - Complete

Suspicions - Complete

Intrigues - Complete

Consensus - Complete - Chapters: 1 , 2 , 3 

Precedent - Complete

Corruption - Complete

Crime & Court - WiP - Chapters 2 of ?

See the full post

54 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

#2

Otto octavious fluff please :) S/O in quedtion is into really gorey horror movies and they finally convinced otto to watch some 80s horror fic with them

This took an unacceptably long time to put together, but honestly, it’s because I’m not much of the horror-movie type. I watch them occassionally, but they’re not my prefered genre and I don’t usually write horror-anything, either. My apologies if this isn’t at all what you wanted. I guess we’ve now made clear one of my weak points. Sorry. 🥺

Warnings: mentions of blood/gore, gn!reader, suggestive content (no smut)

Note: This is pre-accident Otto.

Approx. Reading Time - 5 minutes (200 words/minute)

~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~

Even the skeptical looks your boyfriend kept throwing your way couldn't dampen your spirits. Otto had finally, after months of your cajoling and wheedling, agreed to watch a horror movie with you. You rubbed your hands together and willed the popcorn to pop faster. At last, you carried the butter-drenched bowl back to the couch and sank into the cushions next to him.

"You're sure this one isn't as gory as the others?" Otto asked. "I've caught glimpses of some of that stuff you watch, you know."

You balanced the bowl on his knee and kissed his shoulder. "It's as much camp as horror," you assured him, taking up the remote. "And it's got a cult following."

"That doesn't reassure me."

Despite his less than thrilled tone or choice of words, he wrapped his arm around your waist, snugging you against his side as you hit 'play'. On the screen, the title card shown for a moment before the camera began to jerkily pan over swamp water. You grinned and shoved a handful of salty snack food into your mouth.

"Solid as a rock," Otto mumbled, echoing the dialogue. He sighed as he looked at you. "They're all going to die, aren't they?"

"Not all of them," you drawled.

Your next handful of popcorn was redirected by his hand on your wrist. He stole the kernels with tongue and teeth, making you shiver. Oh, so that's how he was gonna play it, huh?

"You'd better pay attention," you teased. "There's going to be a test afterwards."

He hummed and took your fingers into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around each in turn until he'd devoured all traces of the popcorn. He caressed the inside of your wrist with his thumb as he pulled your hand away again, knowing exactly what he was doing to you. "I'll keep that in mind."

You tucked your feet under you, the friction of your thighs hardly addressing the issue, and leaned against him, adjusting your hands so that you could stroke his knuckles. "Movie first, dear." If the man didn't kill you with frustration before then, that was.

"Are you saying I'm not allowed to mix pleasure with-" He looked dubiously from you to the screen. "-entertainment?"

"Just this once, that's exactly what I'm saying. Humor me?"

He relented, his faux-innocence giving way to fondness. "If it's that important to you."

You both turned your attention to the movie after that. Well, he did. You split your attention between the screen and him. The 'scares' certainly didn't seem to bother him, but it was still early and the film hadn't found its stride, yet.

Then the woods came to life and his arm tightened around you as he grimaced. It was all you could do not to grin like a maniac; that was the turning point for most viewers, after all. As the zombie leapt up with the pencil, he startled, too, almost hard enough to push you off the couch. Your bark of laughter wasn't stifled quickly enough to go unnoticed and he scowled at you, although the look in his eyes was far from negative. With a smirk of his own, he moved the bowl and pulled you into his lap.

"Otto," you chided, unresisting.

"Just getting comfortable." He wrapped both arms around your waist, repositioning the popcorn to your lap, and pressed his lips to the back of your shoulder. "I'm still paying attention."

"To me or the movie?"

"Both."

The more blood onscreen, the more his attention shifted to you, however. By the time the first zombie had been dismembered, he was nuzzling the back of your neck, his view of the screen completely obscured. You were tempted to take pity on him, except that the way he was playing with the buttons of your shirt was anything but fair.

"How many pieces?" you asked.

"What?"

See the full post

56 notes - Posted June 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

...would you be interested in a short exploration of Angel actually CARING about creatures, as in, being very attentive to horses and gentle with dogs, as opposed to his attitude to humans in general? Could be a slice of life witnessed by a saloon bartender, or a stable boy, or just a private moment of peace.

Maybe not as fluffy as you would like, but here you go. @erebus0dora

~ ~ ~

Rating: PG-13 (some swearing)

Pairing: None

Summary: It’s not always about the money, but that’s a nice bonus.

Length: Drabble

Approx. Reading Time - 8 minutes (200 words/minute)

Angel kept tight rein on his temper as he shuffled the deck. It wouldn't do to let anyone see his intent, not before it was too late. Pass. Cut. He flicked the cards across the table with expert precision, eyeing each of his competitors in turn. Not a good enough hand. Fold. He passed the deck to the man next to him.

Shuffle. Cut. Deal.

A small wager. Loss.

Shuffle. Cut. Deal.

Fold.

Shuffle. Cut. Deal.

A large wager. Win.

Shuffle. Cut. Deal.

A larger wager. Win.

Shuffle. Cut. Deal.

Fold.

In the guttering light of the backwater saloon, Angel raked in his winnings with a smug grin. Amateurs. Especially the one in the bowler hat. That imbecile had played right into his hand on multiple levels until the man had left the table with little more than the clothes on his back. Good. Served him right. Now that Angel had what he wanted, though, there was no point in sticking around.

"Gentleman." He stood, offering them a nod, and pocketed the cash. The hastily scribbled receipt of ownership, however, he kept between his fingers.

The stables were dark when he entered, but it didn't take much to find the stable boy curled up in the corner of the lone empty stall. He nudged the boy with his boot until he woke.

"Get my horse," he demanded, "and that red gelding with the white blaze."

The boy scrambled to obey, leading the paint mare to its owner before gathering up the tack.

"The gelding, boy," Angel barked.

"That one's not yours, sir," the boy replied. "It belongs to that short fella with the black vest and bowler hat."

"It's mine now." He waved the paper at him. "Now get the damn horse." The suspicious look the boy threw his way made him glad he'd gotten three witness signatures; he'd be damned before he got hung for being a horse thief.

He tied the mare's lead rope to one of the rings as he was brought his prize. With a shrewd eye, he looked the animal over, hands gliding over withers and flanks as he moved about. The chestnut beast was narrower than he generally preferred, but he'd known it would be. The cursory inspection would have to do; the animal didn't appear too lame for light travel.

He threw his saddle pad over the mare's back and began to tack up, keeping the gelding's rope in hand all the while. In a few minutes, he was astride the black and white horse and heading out with the other in tow. It took a couple of hours, but the small camp came into view as he rounded the last outcropping.

"Jesus Christ, Angel," the man at the fire cussed as the gambler rode in. "Another one?"

See the full post

65 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 5

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / mention of feet

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6

Baekhyun was trembling. His hands were actually shaking so much each time he tried to type into the keyboard of his phone he hit the wrong letters and the typos rendered his message impossible for even the autocorrect to guess what he was trying to say.

“Just — ugh — just give me a regular keyboard for fuck’s sake,” he was grumbling to himself, “my hands wont stop shaking. I can’t. I can’t do this.”

He tossed the phone with force away from him and it landed face down on the carpet across the living room.

“No. I refuse,” he was staring over at the phone on the floor with a shell shocked aura about him, “just forget it. I’ve changed my mind. I can’t. I won’t!”

You’d given him a homework assignment an hour ago.

Ask a girl out on a date.

He’d been sitting on this sofa with his phone in his hands, writing, deleting, rewriting and deleting, again and again, into the text message conversation he had going with Mia.

It had been going pretty well with Mia actually. You’d been handing him the reins more and more and you both celebrated together with a single glass of wine the night he’d had his first actual phone conversation with her. Baekhyun was a lightweight and usually refused to drink more than a few sips of alcohol but he’d gone for the chilled bottle in the fridge and poured it into two glasses and handed one of them to you and lifted his own into the air. He did not wait for you to acknowledge his toast though. He just downed the contents of his glass with a wince on his face in a single go, slammed the empty glass down onto the counter roughly and stormed out of the kitchen toward his bedroom. You sipped your glass and counted it as a shared celebration.

His phone call lasted for 3 minutes and 32 seconds and he managed to tell one awkward joke that elicited audible laughter from the girl. You knew because you sat on the couch beside him with your ear pulled up as close to the phone as you could manage, trying to hear everything that happened. You’d let him know you were here to intervene if something went wrong but honestly you were sure he would do well on his own. And honestly, he was about to do well on his own, despite how awkward and very nervous his voice was.

They had gotten past the introductions at least twice when he briefly forgot what came after “hello” and simply said it a second time. She at least said it twice too and the awkward pause that came after that went on for too long when you held up the index card in your hand and pointed with your finger to the question you had written down.

“Uhh...so h-how...umm...how are — I mean, what are you up to?”

You couldn't make out her response, but whatever she said pulled an interested hum from the back of his throat and he made a quick witted remark that had her giggling in response.

You could definitely make out the sounds of her laughter and you could instantly see the change on his face when it happened. You saw the brightness form inside his eyes and he turned to look at you with a surprised expression as he lifted a finger to point at the phone he held in his hand.

His eyes were wide with something in between amazement and panic and he mouthed the words ‘she’s laughing’ at you and you nodded enthusiastically in response.

Unfortunately a few seconds after the joke he accidentally dropped the phone and it took a wild bounce, landing somewhere under the couch. He couldn’t find it for two whole minutes and when he finally found it, he made up some excuse about having to go because he smelled something burning.

He stared at the phone until the screen turned black and he didn’t move when you rubbed a soothing hand over his back.

“That went pretty good,” you offered. Baekhyun grunted and turned toward the kitchen for the celebratory toast.

Since that night, (you know the one) you’d intentionally taken on a more supportive teacher role in this project. You vowed to keep yourself involved as much as he needed and you swore you could keep your own selfishness from impeding his progress. The way you had been acting had been unfair and he was too good to you for him to deserve anything less than your very best.

You had made a promise to Baekhyun and then you made a promise to yourself to follow through on that promise. You would move Heaven and Earth to help him reach his goal because he deserved it and seeing him happy would be enough to get you through anything that came your way.

You were fine.

No really, you were completely fine.

He was moaning.

You sat on the couch beside him with your foot propped up on the coffee table as you carefully applied the second coat of polish to your toenails. You’d become quite the expert at applying polish to your nails during bumpy situations. Sitting next to the man who flailed and squirmed beside you on this sofa was commonplace and simply no big deal.

You could probably do this during an earthquake.

His moaning turned into much louder moaning and he threw himself back onto the arm of the couch dramatically and in protest of the unfairness of your assignment.

“Buuuug,” he whined through his nose, drawing it out like a little kid.

You’d just finished your pinky toe when his foot pushed up against your thigh.

Your aim was quick and you reached over and grabbed his foot by the heel as you pivoted in place.

“Be still,” you said calmly and you held his foot in place as you applied the bright red polish to his big toenail. You often did his toes to match your own because it made his toes look adorable and he wore socks everywhere he went anyway so he didn’t mind what you did to amuse yourself.

You moved quickly, dabbing carefully over each of his nails until they were all painted to match yours. You blew air over them to dry them, being thankful you’d invested in the 60 second polish.

“Buuu-hu-hu-hu-uuug,” he moaned harder, wiggling his hips into the fit he was throwing and closing his eyes to sell you on the absolute anguish he was in. “Bug, I just don't think I can do it. Can we do something else? I don't even know what to do on a date. What if she says no? Oh god, what if she says yes, I’m going to puke. Do you want to see me puke? Because I am going to puke.”

You tapped a hand lightly over the top of his finished foot and pointed to the other one and after a few moments he shifted, giving in to what you asked for right away.

But good lord, he was dramatic. The whining and the moaning intensified just when you thought you couldn't stand another volume increase he raised his voice into a shout and put actual words to his protests. Your ears were already ringing and you could feel your substantial patience — really, you were on a level with a Buddhist monk after two years living with this — beginning to shake.

“I mean, if I asked you to teach me how to swim would you chuck me into the ocean on the first day?”

You forced your focus down on his other foot, getting the polish smooth and perfect with each stroke. He had gone quiet after his question to you and you bit down on your lip as you carefully pondered the words he was saying. The last thing you wanted was to make him so uncomfortable he was unable to go about his daily life. You didn't need this project to become a source of heartache for the man.

You were not an unreasonable person. Perhaps this really had been too big of a step for him to take without having even practiced under the careful instruction of a teacher.

He’d waited in silence for you to answer for only a few seconds and when you didn’t; because you were thinking about it, dammit, he threw his whole head back and his mouth opened up and he wailed into the ceiling above his head at an even more annoying volume than you thought was possible. This was new and shocking. It was deafening. Surely the neighbors would think someone was being butchered in here.

The awful sounds were coming straight from his diaphragm. The man had power in those pipes and he was going to destroy your ear drums in order to get his way. It went on and on, changing from a moaning, groaning large-dog-with-a-bellyache sound into what you imagined it might sound like inside of an echo chamber trapped with a big sad whale, the biggest ones they made, who also happened to be on fire. He was giving you everything he had now. This was full volume and it was horrible.

“Alright!” You shouted over the wretched screaming, “Alright fine! For the love of God, Baekhyun!” You said for emphasis and the incredible relief of silence flooded and cleansed your ear drums that still vibrated from the after effects of all of that noise.

He lifted his head and closed up his mouth instantly and his eyes were wide as he cautiously watched and waited for what you would say next.

“Do you want me to teach you? Do you think you can practice with me so you learn how to do it before you have to do it for real, on your own? That’s what you mean right? You want more instruction before I throw your ass into the ocean?”

His lips were situated down into a fierce pout now and he nodded his head twice; a big ol’ up and down.

You were irked now. No amount of pathetic pouting on that face could pull you back from the edge. Even the slow careful nod of his head was just an obvious attempt at winning you over with cuteness. Well, it wouldn't work. If anyone was capable of annoying someone to death, it was this man right here and he came very close just now.

“New assignment,” you said with your finger raised and he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and pushed his top lip forward as he inflated his cheeks into round balloons. He sat up straighter and he waited for you to speak.

“Since I am a woman,” you began with your finger still raised and waving in his direction. His eyes glanced down at it, “you may ask me out on a date, for practice. And if I say yes, we will then—”

Your pointed finger was joined by your whole hand as you opened it up and you waved it through the air twice, a visual representation of cause and effect of such a situation. His eyeballs followed every movement you made, looking at the hand that moved instead of at you, the actual speaker.

His eyes popped up into yours when he registered the words you were saying; the requirements of his new assignment.

“...we will then — well, we will..”

Your words were sticking. He was listening very closely and he’d released the air trapped in his mouth and his lips now hung open as his eyes occasionally followed the waving of your hand in front of his face. It was silly how shifty his focus was when your hand moved in front of him.

“We...will…” he said and his face moved, mirroring the movements of your hand as he tried best to understand the new task you were trying so hard to assign to him, even repeating your words to help you get the next ones out.

“We will go on a date. A real one. A practice date. You will have to take me on a date, Baekhyun. You’ll just have to .. do your best at it.”

“A date? I’ll have to,” he said with a flinching, squinting blink of his eyes, “...do my best?”

“Yes, of course,” you said as you pointed your finger at him again, pulling a swift but deep gasp into your lungs to fight the dizziness you could feel building inside your head, “It’s an assignment. Like school. I will give you a grade on how well you do. If you fail, then it’s over and I’m a terrible teacher and clearly your problems are beyond my area of expertise.”

His polish was dry. This conversation needed to be over because you were weirdly agitated by the wide eyed, deer in the headlights expression stuck on his face.

“I’ll send you some study materials later. You better take this seriously, Byun Baekhyun. This is a real assignment from your real dating teacher.”

The entire situation made you anxious. The desire to flee was very strong. You needed a getaway and you needed it now. You felt a tremble inside that could only be attributed to just how freaked out he had been acting. It was rubbing off on you.

You wanted to make a quick escape but you were now fighting with the many bottles of nail polish scattered across the coffee table; you’d gone through so many of them as you decided on which color to use — they really were just numerous and just everywhere. You grasped at them, trying to grab huge handfuls at one time but your hands couldn't hold as many as you wanted and each attempt sent a bottle or two clattering noisily to the table below. It was really ruining the dramatically cool exit you were trying for.

After quite a bit of noise you felt the warmth of Baekhyun’s arm as he leaned against you and began to help you pick up the bottles; carefully placing each in it’s designated spot in your huge nail polish organizer.

It took a bit of effort for you to turn to look at him and when his fingertips carefully placed the final bottle in the case you clicked the lid closed and finally managed to face him.

His eyes were flighty. His face was flushed and when he met your eyes the smile on his lips was very tense. It looked like a grimace.

You had to be insane to be doing this. Willingly putting yourself into a situation like this with him, a situation that was for instructional purposes only, but a situation nonetheless. Your heart was racing inside of your chest and you briefly wondered if he could hear it with him sitting so close to you.

You swallowed it away, the nerves or the uncertainty or whatever it was that had taken hold of your hands and made them unstable and you turned to look into his face head on.

“Do you understand the assignment?”

Baekhyun filled his lungs with air and straightened his shoulders, pulling them back as his eyes closed up. You recognized the self calming behavior. When he turned to look at you he held a new determination in his eyes and he nodded his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“I was always a good student,” he said, “I will do my best with this assignment. I’ll take it seriously, so I can learn from you well.”

You reached forward and patted the back of his hand lightly and offered a reassuring smile.

“Don't be too nervous, okay? Remember it’s for class so you should learn from it. Mistakes are natural and they help us grow. And you won’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I mean it.”

He swallowed and his lips flattened out into a thin line across his face. His head bobbed up and down and he hummed out a response that told you that yes, he did know what was expected of him for the sake of the lesson; for the sake of his future as an adult man who was entering the dating pool in search of the companionship of some lucky lady.

“Also remember, it’s just me. No pressure. Okay, Peanut? I’m here to help you. You could spill an entire cup of iced tea down my dress at dinner and I would still forgive you.”

“No pressure,” he repeated under his breath and when you were finally satisfied that he really understood, you stood, hefting your manicure supplies up with both hands and you stepped away from the living room to return them to your bathroom.

“Do I have a deadline?” He called after you and you turned back with your hand on the doorknob to your room, quietly amused by the seriousness you saw on his face. At the same time, proud of what a good student he was. He was a smart boy, he would do well in anything he was determined to do.

“Ask me out by tomorrow or else Ben might beat you to it.”

You figured a little sense of competition couldn't hurt. And yes, you were still actually speaking regularly with Ben. You were pleasantly surprised with how smart and how funny he turned out to be and he turned out to be a pretty good distraction for the evenings when you’d normally be bored and hanging around in Baekhyun’s room while he played some game on his PC and he’s toss you a remote for the screen that hung up on the wall above his head. You’d play music videos, or cooking videos from YouTube, or some drama or variety shows and he’d play his games and lean far back in his chair watching the screen when exciting things happened on screen.

A few times lately though, when you went into his room you’d find him watching some anime and you just knew he’d want to pay close attention so he could discuss it later with Mia. You’d much rather find someone to entertain you alone so you didn’t have to be ignored or shushed when you interrupted his anime with some stupid question about it, like who is that guy with the crazy eyes and why is he trying to kill everybody. Ben’s conversations were good enough to keep you occupied at least a little bit.

Back in your bedroom you got to work searching for materials for Baekhyun to study. Mostly using helpful YouTube videos with titles such as “how to ask a girl out”, “what to talk about on a first date” and a super helpful online book you found called The Gentleman’s Guide: How to be the Perfect Date. It was just a little outdated with the styles but the book was extensive and ran the gamut from hygiene to manners to confidence and conversation; it even had an entire section called The Art of Subtle Seduction and it made you just a little embarrassed to think of Baekhyun reading this part. He was an adult. He could handle this much. The Dos and Don'ts of a First Date section alone was worth the price you paid for the book.

You wrote up an email with your course materials and sent it off to the man.

Then you sat and waited alone in your bedroom until your level of boredom that in any other situation would be unremarkable, when combined with the built up anticipation inside of you, mixed into a perfect storm of swirling lunacy that was bouncing around inside of you; trying to break free and wreak havoc on something other than your chest walls.

You grabbed your cell phone, slipped by the 2 waiting text messages from Ben that you would absolutely get to later, and opened a new text message to Baekhyun.

‘peanut did you get my email ^^?’

You were sure he did. Of course he did. You wondered if there was anything he found lacking in the pages and pages of super helpful information you sent him. You wondered what he thought about it all and maybe if he needed some guidance or suggestions on how to proceed with the first step of his assignment. Did he need you to come over to his bedroom and watch the videos with him? Would that be too awkward?

Your phone vibrated.

‘yep’

He would ask for help if he needed it, you were certain. He would be fine. This wasn’t real anyway. It wasn’t like there was an actual deadline, not really. You enjoyed talking with Ben but it didn’t seem like he was close to asking you out yet. He had been a bit busy lately and you had been busy as well with work and with helping Baekhyun.

You’d seen from the notification preview on your phone that Ben’s last two messages were asking you something that would take a while to explain and you didn’t want to open them yet in case he’d been expecting you to reply quickly. You needed a bit more time to come up with an answer for the questions he had casually asked about your roommate. You’d tell Ben that Baekhyun was, yes, a guy. And no, it wasn’t awkward living with a man.

You’d get to all that later. Now, you were entirely too keyed up about a problem of your very own creation.

When.

But really...

When?

You could not relax. Because honestly it could happen at any moment. He could come barging into your room, plop his ass down unceremoniously on your bed and say “Hey Doll, hows about you and me go on a hot date this weekend, what about it? Nyeeahhh?” Like some sort of 1940s gangster. You could definitely see Baekhyun doing this accent. You were pretty sure he had a 40s gangster hat in his closet.

You’d decided that you wouldn't give him a hard time about how he asked you. You’d accept right away for the sake of his nerves, if he worked up the courage to ask you at all, then he was on the right track and he deserved an E for effort.

You still had trouble with the anticipation. Not knowing when was the hardest part to handle. You tried your very best to go about your day in as normal a way possible. Sure, you jumped every time you heard a sound, but other than that, it felt like any other day.

He spent the rest of the evening in his room and didn't even come out until you heard the doorbell ring. You peaked your head out of your bedroom door and waited for him to answer it but after a few minutes with no sight of him you stepped out. The doorbell rang a second time and you rushed from your room to answer it before the visitor gave up.

It could have been something important. This building had a doorman so it was usually someone who had a purpose ringing the bell.

The view through the camera monitor showed a run of the mill pizza delivery man, and you remembered that it was Baekhyun’s turn to make dinner tonight. He must have ordered you a pizza so he could hide in his room all night and not have to worry about walking around you in the kitchen and not asking you out on a date.

This was his way of avoiding you for the night.

You had to swallow down the flash of silly disappointment that popped up. You’d assumed correctly that he had already paid for the pizza and you received your cardboard box of loneliness with a polite smile for the weirdly cheerful delivery kid.

You gave a quick glance at the label in the front of the box to check for forbidden toppings just in case he’d forgotten who he was avoiding tonight and put something weird on it like corn and mayo or hot peppers.  

The label had four lines of ingredients listed, the first said ‘xtra cheese’ and each additional one after that said ‘xtra cheese.’ Nothing else, just ‘xtra cheese’ listed four times in succession.

What in the world?

You briefly considered a malfunction of the pizza shop’s label maker, but boy was this thing heavy. Did he sneeze while selecting toppings and accidentally hit the option four times?

You set the monster down on the counter and lifted the lid. It was steaming hot despite the trip in the car and up the elevators to your door and as soon as you opened it you noticed the odd appearance of the inside lid.

There was a message handwritten with black marker inside of the lid.

Your stomach leapt up into your throat as you recognized what this was. The message started with the word Bug.

You had to cover your mouth to get through this.

Bug,

I know this is really, really, really, really cheesy, but will you go out on a date with me this Saturday?

Knock thrice on my door for yes.

-Peanut

P.S. Did I beat Ben?

You had to hang your head to contain it. You wanted to scream. Giggles actually burst out of your mouth before you could stop them. You were highly amused. Actually reallly fucking impressed and goddammit you felt a genuine flutter of butterflies inside of your stomach. How was he this clever? He had always been very silly and good at thinking of the most ridiculous scenarios to get things done, but wow. When you lifted the lid once more to read his message again your mind spun with the logistics of that man in that bedroom sneakily ordering this thing from a real pizza shop that was probably a block from your home.

Did he call them and explain the situation? Did all of the employees gather around, chanting ‘More cheese! Give the man more cheese!’ As they loaded this pizza up with what looked to be a full inch of melted cheese on top? It compromised the edges of the crust and flowed over the cardboard below. It was absolutely ridiculous and nearly inedible too.

Did they giggle at the pet names you called each other as they selected the employee with the best handwriting to relay his message?

You were buzzing again. This time it was pride. He was brilliant at everything he put his mind to and this was clearly no exception. He would do so well in his life.

You left the kitchen and made your way toward his closed bedroom door. As you came close you heard a very soft thud; wooden door hitting wooden door frame. The movement was hardly noticeable but you could see a slow turn of the doorknob too. He probably thought he was sneaky.

You lifted your closed fist and quietly hit three times against his door and after exactly ten seconds you heard the squeak of his doorknob turning and his bedroom door opened up an inch.

You saw a single brown eyeball peeping at you through the opening.

“I’ll text you the details later,” he whispered and the door closed up again before you could respond.

The details came by text message a day later, just as he promised. It was a Thursday afternoon when your phone buzzed and you’d just put the final touches on your data entry work for the day, running it through a spell checker for mistakes as you always did. You’d expected to hear from Ben by now, he said he had something to go straighten out at the bank. He’d taken it well, finding out that your roommate was a man around your age, and he didn’t even ask too many prodding questions about him.

The message was from Baekhyun with the time he would ‘arrive’ to pick you up on Saturday and he gave you sparse details about what he actually had planned; just a quick note at the end that he would be wearing a suit. You figured this was a hint for you to dress up as well.

Was Baekhyun taking you some place fancy? Your curiosity was positively burning and Baekhyun had been acting super weird around you lately.

Whenever you’d come into a room he was already occupying he would make up some excuse why he had to leave it and vanish inside his room to carry on with his highly secretive behavior. Whenever you went into his room he would spin in his chair toward the door with what you were positive was a caught red handed look on his face. It was like you had just caught him watching porn, only you’d caught glimpses of his screen before he quickly hit a keyboard command to clear out the screen and you didn't see a single boob.

After the first time, you’d made it a point to barge into his room often, just to see the surprised look on his face; you did it all for that gasp of air, the frantic fingers of panic on the keyboard, and the trembling hand over his chest as he clutched his pearls. All you caught flashes of were just regular looking websites. Regular text and regular pictures. You saw some blues, you saw some greens. You definitely didn't see the incriminating black and yellow theme of everyone’s favorite adult website. There was nary a penetrative moan to be heard through his speakers. The entire thing brought you great joy. The man was acting so odd and honestly he was getting your hopes up for a fantastically mind blowing date on Saturday. You’d already picked out your dress, heels, and jewelry and had been having a very hard time tolerating the ever so tedious passage of time.

By the time Saturday rolled around you were a wreck of nerves; though you weren’t exactly sure why you were so anxious. It was probably his recent fretting and obsessive preparations that had rubbed off on you. You’d decided to take it easier on him today. He’d obviously been working very hard on this assignment once given the dangling carrot of a good grade to be awarded at the end and if there was one thing you knew about Baekhyun, it was how much he strived to achieve perfection in his academic performance. You’d provided the materials. He’d obviously been studying and go-time was quickly approaching.

You took your time getting ready, soaking in your bathtub to kill some of the dull waiting hours before he was due to pick you up. By the time you were scrubbed, rinsed, shaved, moisturized, plucked, preened, coiffed, and scented to your satisfaction, you had only a half an hour to slip up the straps on the fancy fitted cocktail dress and check your reflection in the full length mirror. It was fitted and had a deep plunging neckline. It accentuated the best parts of your figure and the high slit that landed over your upper thigh showed just enough skin to make you feel sexy.

With your heels you were ready to go; feeling about as pretty as you had in a long while. The silliest little fantasy swam through your head as you spun in front of the mirror and it brought just a little warmth to your cheeks as you allowed it to play out. The idea that he would find you so lovely, so irresistible, that even the iron willed man with his self control like a steel trap would lose himself in the slow blinks of your lashes and drown in the pools of your eyes for just one night.

When you lightly slapped a palm over your cheek, it was to ground yourself. This was fake. Everything that happened tonight would be the result of careful calculations and applications of behaviors modeled in text books that he had studied all week long. It was a date with Baekhyun, but it wouldn't really be an accurate representation of the Baekhyun that you know so well.

You knew he would follow a script. He would perform as a perfect gentleman and you would play along, knowing that when he brought you home you would get a gentle hug and a thanks for sharing your knowledge with him and you would close your bedroom door and he would return to his bedroom door and life as you know it would simply fall back into place as it should remain unchanged for however long it took for you to get back on your feet, perhaps get a place of your own not too far away from him; although this neighborhood was very expensive, you’d settle for one or two subways stops away if it meant you could visit your best friend often and see him living out the life he deserved with someone who was worthy of his love.

Tonight, you will enjoy. But you would not allow your emotions to betray your rational mind. You would enjoy it and then it would be over and Baekhyun would have the skill set to ask out Mia, or whoever else he set his mind on asking out.

Your quiet self assurance was interrupted by two soft knocks on your bedroom door and your hands were trembling as you grabbed your handbag that had your cell phone, a tube of lipstick for touch-ups and a few just in case items you were always taught to carry with you, you know, just in case.

You’d reached the door and swung it open with a beaming smile on your face.

Your date was here. Baekhyun was here. It was Peanut.

A smile that quickly transformed into what you were sure was a gaping opening in your face resembling some aquatic animal and you found yourself gazing upon, frankly, an expertly styled exquisitely handsome real life man, who was wearing Byun Baekhyun’s face and smile.

Despite seeing him standing before you with your own two eyes, your brain was having trouble reconciling the two; your harmless roommate and the man who stood before you wearing a crisp suit jacket that he filled out shockingly well, a fashionable collarless dress shirt that looked like it came from some fancy boutique from downtown, fitted dress slacks that you tried your best not to linger on for too long, and were his shoes Italian? You were pretty sure they were Italian. More than just the clothes, his hair was different. He’d gone and had something done to his hair! Lord, you saw slight waves and a deliberate styling by an expert hand with just a bit of his forehead visible. Oh he looked so lovely with this hair style.

You remembered to close your mouth, but only after the realization dawning on you that he hadn’t said anything to you as you silently admired how beautiful he looked standing in his fancy suit looking like at least a million bucks.

You knew...you knew he was an attractive man. You’d have plenty of glimpses of it again and again, freshly reminded of it during that photo shoot late that night. You’d even known he worked out and had had plenty of chances to ogle the muscles on his arms and chest when he just woke up and would wander out shirtless for a drink of water. You knew that the entire shape of this man was the kind of handsome that you had to make conscious decisions to ignore. You’d forced yourself to look away plenty of times in the past. Still, the Baekhyun who stood here today, the one who had his lips parted as he stared into your eyes now after what you were certain was a head to toe, slow as hell, full body appreciation of all of your preparations to get ready for tonight, this Baekhyun was, for lack of a better word, he was sexy as all hell.

For the first time since you began this project; these lessons in dating, you felt like you might actually be in some sort of trouble.

Baekhyun spoke at last and it was the softest whisper. He said your name. Not Bug, not stupid or dummy or stinky which he called you sometimes even though you knew, you fucking knew you always smelled amazing. You went out of your way to smell great. The sound of your name on his voice softened the shock in your face and you felt a smile pull at your lips.

And so you smiled at him and watched the slow but complete smile that manifested on his pretty face.  

“Hi,” he said with a blink of his bright eyes.

“Hi Baek,” you said. Your heart was racing.

He pivoted on his (Italian!) shoes and extended a bent elbow toward you and you slipped a hand around his arm.

He was doing so well. Each step you took through your shared home felt new. You had a hard time keeping from watching the side of his face and each glance you made was greeted with the light touch of his eyes as he met your eyes with his own.

Moments blurred. He ticked all the boxes, of course. He opened your door, closed it quietly behind you once you were inside. Even helped you with the seatbelt, much to the dismay of your racing heartbeat when he reached over to pull the red strap across you, careful to keep his hands well away from touching any of your actual body as he did it. The true devastation hit you when, all closed up inside the dark car in the silent moments before he started the engine and the intoxicating smell of him reached your nose.

This was a new smell. Baekhyun had gone to the salon, gone shopping for expensive new clothes, and was also wearing what had to be the best smelling cologne you had ever experienced in person.

“You smell really good,” you said without looking at him and your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your handbag to keep your mind working.

“So do you,” he said followed by an inhale that you were certain sounded just a little thready and he was steering the car through lanes and turns of a parking garage to exit the building.

His destination was the kind of fancy dream-like restaurant that you saw only in movies. The sun would be setting soon and you were led to a rooftop terrace with a view over the city and a single table set for two. You followed the pleasantly clean woman and lingering just behind you, Baekhyun silently fell behind one or two steps. A glance behind woke him up from whatever daze he’d fallen into and he closed the distance with two larger steps and a shy smile on his lips.

The waitstaff worked like ninjas. Glasses were refilled as if by magic and course after course of delicious food appeared before you as you watched the sunset over the horizon and when the light faded enough, the soft glow of twinkle lights illuminated the view around you.

The dinner was delicious and the scenery was breathtaking and that alone would have given him full marks for such a lovely evening out, but Byun Baekhyun was proving to be an overachiever as he started to talk to you. He was asking you open-ended questions, pulling conversation easily from you and you found yourself giggling and laughing as he joked in response or told you some funny anecdotes from his childhood that he knew you would love.

By the time dessert arrived you were pretty certain you were drunk despite half of the wine that remained back in your glass. Baekhyun, ever the stickler for vehicle safety had stuck to soft drinks and when he excused himself for the restrooms, you waited patiently under the glowing lights as you daydreamed about the genuine brightness you were certain you saw in his smiles. Had the twinkle in his eyes been just a reflection of this place? Everything about him tonight felt so real. You’d read through the same book he read through and you couldn’t recall him using a single recycled phrase or conversation point during dinner.

Maybe he was just that good of a student.

A noise startled you from behind and you jumped when a single red rose was laid on the table in front of you.

A rose. Baekhyun had brought you back a rose from somewhere; maybe he stole it from the elaborate flower arrangements you passed on the way in.

“Where did you get this?” You mused as you smelled his sweet offering and he shrugged and tugged at the top button of his shirt, undoing it and slipping slim fingers down to undo the second button as well. Your eyes watched the action and weirdly the fragrance from the rose smelled sweeter than the first time you smelled it.

“I just had it,” he said cryptically with another charming and blinding smile.  

“Ready to go? We have one more place to visit.”

The next place he took you was even more magical than the fancy restaurant. The parking lot was nearly empty and when he opened your door he was fussing around with a small bag in the backseat of his car.  He pulled out a pair of black ballet flats and you watched in awe as the man actually kneeled down on the pavement in front of you to carefully slip your heels off of your feet and slip on the comfortable shoes.  

While they did not look anywhere near as sexy as the heels did, you instantly understood the need for a change.

Baekhyun had brought you to an aquarium with what looked like miles and miles of indoor and outdoor paths to walk through with tunnels traveling through the biggest tanks of aquatic sea life you’d ever seen.

You were instantly hypnotized by the deep sea exhibits that seemed to take you for miles and miles below the surface of the ocean where the sea life grew weirder and the lighting grew darker and dimmer the further down you traveled. Here at depths difficult to wrap your brain around the fish and sea creatures have adapted to freezing waters and a bleak existence without any light at all. Many had their own light sources. The bioluminescent exhibits sparkled and twinkled like the stars in the sky out in the country. You saw entire universes all around you.

Baekhyun was as enraptured as you were and spent his time carefully reading each exhibit’s information card out loud as he stared with his mouth open in awe at the different creatures. There were hundreds of different species of fishes, beautiful ones and downright creepy ugly things from the very bottom of the oceans; endangered species too; the sleepy eyes of the sea turtles were your favorites and the impressions Baekhyun made of their swimming faces made you cackle with laughter. Bright lights illuminated meters of corals of all shapes, sizes, and colors, and you honestly felt like you’d entered another planet when you both walked into the jellyfish halls.

They glowed and flowed, bounced and danced, and moved like a dream. You found yourself hypnotized as you stared at the biggest tank full of them for long enough for Baekhyun to make three circles around waiting for you to follow him out of this room so he could go see the sharks.  

You knew the sharks were coming. You’d had a look at the map. And while you didn't necessarily dislike them, their huge sizes and razor sharp teeth always gave you the heebie-jeebies. The jellies were just so comfortable to look at and so relaxing.

It took some coaxing from Baekhyun, and maybe even a little tiny push at the back of your shoulders to get your feet to move and you lingered a bit long in the dark hallway that connects the two exhibits.

You just felt that maybe, the sharks could wait just a little bit longer to meet you.

He’d noticed right away and you opened up your eyes that you’d closed up for a little relaxing session when you felt the tips of his fingers running along the palm of your hand.

He gripped lightly at first, and then shifted your hand within his and he began walking forward in that dark hallway with you trailing behind him.

Baekhyun touched you sometimes. This was something that he did, on occasion. During a scary movie when you’d jumped too many times, or when you both walked through a crowded place and he didn't want you to wander off, he would occasionally hold your hand.  This wasn’t something new to you.

However your heart was beating hard in your chest and the warmth of his hand coupled with the firmness with which he held you felt so damn nice you were having trouble focusing on anything else except for your own shallow breathing and racing heartbeat — and his hand holding yours.

Sharks swam at a gentle languid pace. Clearly at ease and very well fed here in their homes, there didn't seem to be very much murder and feasting happening at all. Hammerheads, tiger sharks, something uglier than any other creature you had ever seen that came from The Midnight Zone of the deepest parts and with each creature that swam overhead, or beside you, or creeped up from somewhere behind you, Baekhyun would turn to face you and take two or three steps backwards as he pulled you through it, your hand held securely inside of his. He would smile at you that debilitating smile, and tilt his head and call you a scary cat or a big baby and you would laugh and roll your eyes and deny that you were even a little bit scared of anything at all.

All was going well. You were very well taken care of and felt very secure inside this tiny tunnel at the bottom fo the ocean and you’d noticed this time when Baekhyun had turned around to look at you with a bright smile that smile wavered just a touch and his eyes seemed to focus on something that was coming up from behind.

Your curiosity got the better of you and you turned to see what he saw.

Baekhyun moved quickly then, moving both of his hands up to reach for your face he pulled your head forward and moved his own face close to yours. You felt the warmth of his forehead lean against yours for a moment and you could not see around or behind you with his hands placed so carefully on the sides of your head like this.

You knew what it was. It had to be something huge and terrifying, maybe even something with fresh blood still on it’s teeth. A Great White. The giant monster from the movie Jaws that you had watched with him once not realizing just how scary it would be and you spent most of the film curled up under his arm wincing at the horrors you saw on the screen.

“Hey Peanut,” you said softly while looking up close into his eyes. He was so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. His smell, that new smell of his smelled even better this close to his skin.

“Hey LoveBug,” he said with a gentle smile and you knew based on the use of this carefully reserved nickname for emergencies that it was exactly as you had feared. A Great White, chomping on the remains of the cutest crying baby penguin. The fluffiest one with its whole life ahead of it.

Baekhyun was safe though. Baekhyun was warm and he was here to protect you. You would be okay, you knew it.

“Is it gone yet?” You asked after what felt like the average time for a fish that size to swim away and you noticed something. It was a look, just a glance. Baekhyun’s eyes floated a bit and the warm breath you felt coming from him was delivered in quicker puffs through his parted lips.

When he licked his lips, you could not help it, your eyes caught the motion as his tongue ran over his bottom lip and left wetness behind and by the time you realized what you had done — where you had looked — you had already done it, your stubborn eyes had already looked and in your mind a vivid replay was happening. You felt too much. This was too much. This was supposed to be fake. Why did he have to smell so fucking good and why was he so aware of every tiny detail about you he knew when something would overwhelm you and ruin your mood, so he used his own body to shield you from it and protect you. You cautiously pulled your eyes back up only to find him blinking too fast and he was dropping his hands from your face as he took a step back and away from the stifling closeness.

You were dizzy. You felt it all over. Your heart was racing and the warmth you felt traveling through your body sent waves through you. You had to rub lightly over your forearms to smooth out the goosebumps and Baekhyun was no longer facing you, but was staring off into the literal depths of the cold black ocean and you took a while to recover enough to walk by him toward the exit of the aquarium and back into the darkened city streets you knew as the real world.

The walk back to the car was quiet and had an odd flavor about it. You both could feel the end coming. It had been a wonderful date. You’d spent hours, just the two of you talking and laughing and exploring literally new worlds you hadn’t before experienced. You felt a sudden but definite melancholy to see the fancy circles that made up the logo of his car.  

“Hey, you want to take a walk?” Baekhyun’s voice halted your steps and you turned back to see him standing with a hand in his pocket, fidgeting in hidden, likely with the key fob to his car, and a new sort of nervous flush on his cheeks that you hadn’t seen since he first showed up at your bedroom door looking like a dashing Prince Charming ready to sweep you off your feet.

“Sure,” you said, meaning every bit of it and secretly extremely thankful that this evening wasn’t over yet.

The walk was peaceful. It was a bit chilly tonight and you didn’t even resist when you felt the warmth of the coat jacket he placed over your shoulders. You thought you’d become used to the smell of him by now, but clearly you were incapable of ever getting used to his smell.

The streets were mostly empty now that the night had grown stale and you walked side by side passing various touristy shops that had long since closed up for the evening. Ahead you could see a small street side cafe that sold warm teas and coffees and Baekhyun was pulling out his wallet before you even had the chance to look at him with hopeful delight all over your face. He ordered two hot coffees and you danced and celebrated when he handed the first one to you.

It warmed you from the inside and you paid no mind to the smudges of lipstick all over the white lid of your cup. The hot drink made you happy and you could see your breath like a dragon in the chilly night air around you. Each puff made Baekhyun smile and when he’d taken a particularly big drink from his cup he pulled his head back and puffed out three perfectly formed rings of warm air into the color air above his head. The rings grew and then faded quickly but you were so excited to see his trick that you made him do it again and again until he was puffing and out of breath  and laughing too much for any more cool rings to form. This man was full of secrets. Absolutely full of them!

The night was winding on. You could feel the lateness in your limbs and you’d long since finished your drinks and dropped your paper cups into a street side trash can. Your feet, you found were protesting. It wasn’t that they ached or hurt or anything like that. You weren't even that tired. You were just having trouble with the idea of this ending and the night being over.

Everything had to end eventually. You didn't even pout at all when he pulled open your door. You just climbed in and sat down, fastening your own seatbelt this time with a sense of finality looming in your mind along with a wagging finger that quietly scolded you for letting your guard down during this date.

The drive back home was quiet. He didn't even turn on the radio and even though he drove with one hand, he held his other hand firm atop his thigh.

The small touches and stolen glances were over. The date was over. He had done very well. You were thoroughly swept off your feet and his grade would be an A+. You would go back to your room and go to sleep and tomorrow morning when you woke up you’d find him back to his usual antics and maybe, maybe you’d even get him to ask Mia out on a date.

You swallowed the dryness in your throat and the familiar landmarks outside your apartment building called you back home. Baekhyun pulled into the parking garage and you did not wait for him to round the hood of the car to reach your door, you simply opened it yourself and pushed through it.

Baekhyun did well. You had given him a task and he’d done it. He deserved all the praise and recognition for a job well done. He’d taken it seriously just as he said he would. This dark mood that had suddenly come over you could not show. You shouldn’t do this to him.

You cared for him too much to ruin this sweet evening.

You loved him too much. This quiet secret usually echoed around inside of your heart and you winced to hear it peaking it’s way up into your running thoughts.

The apartment was dark and you walked through it easily, knowing exactly where you could walk without bumping into anything and he didn’t turn on any lights as he walked closely behind you. He hadn’t said anything to you on the drive home, nor did he speak right now as he walked you back to your bedroom door where he had picked you up.

You turned to face him now. You pushed a smile up to your lips and his face was mostly in the darkness, barely lit with the city lights from the window.  

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Baekhyun. It was perfect. You were perfect. Seriously, you are amazing.”

You leaned before he did and you felt the staggered response from his limbs as he wrapped both of his arms around your shoulders for the hug.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he whispered against your ear and when you pulled out of the hug, your small smile was not returned. You could see enough of his face to see that he did not smile at you now.

Your hand was on your door and you turned and stepped inside, thankful that you had left your small table lamp on. The room was warm and inviting and you closed the door behind you with a soft click that sounded exactly like clapperboard snapped to signal the end of a movie scene. You could almost hear a director somewhere yelling cut. Everybody clapped for the job well done. All the actors could now go home. It was over.

Your shoes were off. You’d pulled off the earrings and had taken off your necklace and the delicate tennis bracelet’s clasp was so tiny you had to try a few times to get it open so you could take it off.

When you reached up to slip the strap of your dress off your shoulders a tiny sound interrupted you. It was almost like a knocking, but it was so soft you had to listen carefully to hear if it repeated again.

It did not, but you could not shake that feeling that it had happened and out of genuine curiosity you walked across your bedroom and pulled your bedroom door open.

Someone was there; Baekhyun was there, standing in nearly the exact same position as he had been, wearing the same clothes. The only difference was the sight mess to his hair and the definite pink shade you saw on his face even in the dim lighting from the windows.

“Peanut?” You couldn’t imagine what this was. He was finished. The assignment was finished and he had done perfectly, you’d said so already...but, his eyes. You caught that same look that you’d seen on him many times before. It was a look of hard determination that propelled him forward when he dove into some new and difficult project he had to master. If you had to give it a name, you’d call it his passion. The passion he had inside of him to do things right. To be perfect.

“I said I would take it seriously,” he said in a well controlled voice and you shook your head, not understanding what he meant. Did he have some regrets about how the night went? Did he feel that he had somehow failed to live up to the requirements you’d set forth for him as his teacher?

“The date, I told you I would.” He wasn't clarifying anything with his words.

It was then that he moved.

His hands were up and Baekhyun took a step closer to where you stood confused and surprised at the threshold of your bedroom door. He reached for you with both hands and you felt the warmth of his palms on your cheeks at the same time as you felt the exhale from his parted lips against your mouth. It happened in a single moment. His lips connected with yours and you gasped in a surprised breath. Baekhyun kissed you. His lips were on yours and he held your face tightly between both of his hands as he did it. This was it. This was his goodnight kiss at your front door. This was the end of the date.

You could just make out the ultra up close view of him, his fluffed up hair, the smoothness of his forehead, his eyes closed up tight and dark eyelashes spread over his cheeks and it was all a big blur and so you closed your eyes and your heart raged noisily inside of your chest with the sudden need you felt for this to happen.

Your own lips parted and you felt the tilt of his head as his bottom lip pushed out slipping perfectly between your own and you could not stop it. You could not control the tightness with which your hands clung to the cotton of his dress shirt and pulled him toward you. You could not contain the way his tongue brushed lightly against your own and the way you reacted to it. The light moan that escaped from your throat and bounced around inside of his mouth. The light draw you felt on your lip as he pulled lightly and sucked on your lip as he did it. The final pull was him pulling away.

He ended the kiss with a step backward and a drop of his hands from your face.

He had kissed you and you most definitely had kissed him back. The labored breathing you struggled to contain did nothing for the dizziness.  

“Goodnight,” he said with a roughness on his voice; plus the blown out look in his eyes was telling you of many forbidden things that he was running from now. Things that even he knew were a very bad idea.

This had been fake. This was supposed to be a lesson.

You stood at your doorway and watched him disappear into his bedroom and after standing frozen in your doorway you had no choice but to return to the quiet glowing comfort of your own bedroom and close your door too.

Your hands were shaking and you felt the trembling all over you as you looked around at the place you called home. The place you loved more than anything in the world except for maybe that man who was likely facing a very similar struggle behind his own closed bedroom door.

The only difference was just how much you had to lose if you gave in.

You loved him. You knew it deep down inside of your soul. It had been buried for so long deep in the frozen depths of your ocean that you thought it would never surface and consume you, yet now you knew you’d been a fool.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob

[homerforsure]

Whumptober No. 1

“You have to let go” / Barbed Wire / Bound

***

The two men were ambling through the apparatus bay like they were on a museum tour. Hands in pockets. Eyes scanning every corner of the garage space. Their posture was casual but their expressions as they looked around were anything but.

“Can I help you guys with something?” Eddie asked, stepping into their view from where he’d been watching from behind the out of service ambulance. Because, despite the chill running down his spine, there was always a chance that they needed help. A chance that they thought the station was deserted and would take off once they saw it wasn’t. No chance that Eddie was going to hide while they skulked around his house.

The men startled at the sight of Eddie, but recovered quickly, exchanging glances with each other before continuing their slow saunter forward. Eddie tried to hide it as he looked around for anything he could put between them. “If you’d taken my side when I told Bobby we should get a dog, then the dog could stay behind instead of you,” Buck had teased before leaving on the run with the rest of the crew, leaving Eddie alone. Eddie had never wanted a dog more in his life.

“We just always wanted to see the inside of a firehouse,” the taller one said. “And we happened to be in the neighborhood.”

“Well, we’re closed for tours today, but if you want to stop by around Halloween, we’ll be having an open house.”

They both smiled.

There were no options. They weren’t backing down. Eddie didn’t have anything in his hands. The two men took a step forward and Eddie didn’t step back. He could take them, both of them, in a fair fight. Even in an unfair one. Unless they had more than wallets in their pockets.

“Isn’t that why they left you behind? Tour guide? All we need is a quickie.” His teeth were unnervingly straight when he smiled and winked.

“Yeah. We’d settle for just a peek in that ambulance.”

Nothing in this truck is worth your life, Eddie could hear Bobby saying. The most important thing, always, is that we make it home alive.

They were just two garden variety criminals. Probably got drunk watching the ball game and one of them said “You know where they keep the drugs, right?” and then they egged each other on until they ended up here. They were expecting him to back down. He should. Should head back to the office and lock the door behind him.

Even as he made notes in his mind on their appearances for later (white, 40s, 6 ft maybe and 5’10”, one blond with stubble and a decent size mole on his neck, one greying brown with a hunch to his shoulders and a tattoo snaking out from under his shirt sleeves), Eddie was thinking of what he’d have to do to restrain them until the police arrived.

His window of opportunity was sliding shut with every step forward they took. He needed room to preserve his options and make sure the first move was his.

“Not much to see,” he said, taking a step back as though he might actually open the door of the ambulance. “We transferred all the supplies to a backup rig this morning while we wait for this one to get serviced.”

“We came all this way,” the shorter one said. “We’ll take a look any-”

The straight right sent pain splintering through Eddie’s knuckles but it sent the bearded man sprawling to the ground. He looked like he was out but it wouldn’t be for long and Eddie couldn’t spare him a glance as the tattooed one jumped into a guard position before telegraphing a wild haymaker that Eddie was easily going to be able to sidestep and then-

Then Eddie’s entire body went rigid with pain. It radiated from the back of his neck, down his spine and through every one of his limbs. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t scream. He felt like a marionette, every extremity stretched taut at the whim of whoever had seized the strings. Then all at once the strings were cut and Eddie crumpled.

His head cracked hard against the bumper of the ambulance as he went down, but there was so much pain, he was overflowing with pain, his brain couldn’t hold the idea of any more. When he hit the cement floor, the air punched out of his lungs and Eddie gasped helplessly like a fish thrown suddenly to the deck.

“Wake him up,” an annoyed voice from behind Eddie called to his accomplice. “I’m not hauling his ass to the car.”

Move, Eddie’s brain whispered from beneath the haze of pain. His desperate breath wheezed into his lungs as if through a straw and he needed to focus, needed to get it together. Slow deep breaths. He couldn’t do anything until he could breathe.

As he struggled against his spasming diaphragm, the burn of pain began to fade from his muscles, no longer quite so blinding. Eddie could feel the separate throb in his head, could feel the blood wet on his face. He knew if he looked up, the world would have the blurred lines of a double exposure, but that was at least three steps down the road. First was to get off the ground. Once Eddie found that he had control of his arms, he crept them closer to his body with the idea of pressing himself upright.

Then the electric shock of pain stabbed into the small of his back and if he thought speech was impossible before, it was unthinkable now. His jaw clamped down over a building scream.

“Easy, hero,” the third man said conversationally as he held the stun gun to Eddie’s bare skin. “Tour’s not over yet.”

The weapon was pulled away but the pain didn’t dissipate and when Eddie’s arm’s were yanked behind his back it was through the near lock of rigor, finally drawing a groan from his lips. There was no hope of moving as the zip-tie encircled his wrists with a stuttering swwwwipp, nearly embedding the tie into his skin. Instincts screamed at him to fight back as a second band of plastic joined the first, cinching his elbows closer to touching than they’d ever been in his life. He pulled against them and ligature was pulled tighter, biting hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to cut when they used it to haul him up and onto his knees.

The world spun. Hands dug into his pockets, removing his phone, his keys, his knife, objects he couldn’t reach anyway. Eddie’s thoughts flowed slow and thick. He didn’t think to crash his head against his attacker’s face until the man was out of range again.

The keys were dangled in front of his face, a fuzzy mass as they swayed like a hypnotist’s watch and the intruder said, “Why don’t we see what these go to, huh?”

For the first time, Eddie wished he’d taken cover when he had the chance.

[goodnightmoonvale]

I Want You / She's So Heavy

Yennskier smut, 513 words, rated E

PWP, light spanking, light breath play (NOT choking), dom!Yen (of course)

Yen sits on Jaskier and eats an apple. Literally wrote this in 15 minutes, have fun.

Jaskier’s feet are planted firmly on the floor, as far apart as he can reasonably get them. He’s bent forwards over Yen’s bed, arms tucked up underneath him and face pressed mostly into the mattress. He’s already come at least once tonight. Yen is sitting on his lower back, pressing him firmly into the bed. She’s eating an apple with one hand, the delicate crunches adding a soft counterpoint to his own breathy moans. With the other hand, she’s pushing a thick dildo in and out of his ass, slow enough not to push him any closer to the edge, but relentlessly enough to keep him hard and wanting.

The weight of her on his diaphragm makes each breath just a little harder to draw. He’s bracing himself a little with his arms, but he’s mostly enjoying the way each breath is a little too shallow, the way each breath is just a little bit too much of an effort. He can feel a lightness begin to sparkle across his eyes, the barest hint of a rush in his brain.

He’s making little punched out noises, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh. Each thrust is too much. It’s not enough. He whines and wriggles his ass in the air, trying to take the dildo deeper.

Yennefer plunges the dildo in deeply and takes her hand off for a second. Jaskier anticipates the crack of the slap but he still cries out, still flinches away from it.

“No moving,” Yen says. “You know the rule.”

“Please, Yen,” he begs. “I need it. Please.”

“You will come when I say you will and no sooner,” Yennefer says, going back to plunging the dildo in and out. She’s hitting his prostate more regularly now, and the pleasure is building up behind his eyes.

His breaths are more and more ragged now, the effort of forcing his lungs full of air not quite worth the effort. The lightness, the headiness are creeping in a little more now, and he gives himself over to the continued rhythm of the pounding and struggle of the air.

“Alright, I suppose you can come now,” Yen says, pushing the dildo in just right and letting a sliver of magic curl deep down inside him and he explodes. He groans into the mattress, tapering off into a whimper that’s almost a scream. Yen sits on him for half a second longer and then rolls off delicately, pulling the dildo out with a squelch. She strokes her hand all the way down his spine, then coming back to ruffle his hair.

He gasps like a fish for several seconds, then melts into the mattress, sticky wet spot not withstanding. With a snap, Yen cleans him up, then uses her magic to drag him fully onto the bed, settling herself against a pillow and pulling him up so his face is nestled against the side of her cleavage. She strokes his hair while she finishes her apple placidly.

“All good?” she asks after a few minutes.

“So good,” he says, smiling sloppily into her breast.

[littlefishbigsea]

Gwynriel Small Scene

The Necklace

A note: This is a snippet from a larger story I’ve been building upon. The goal is to eventually publish chapters via a side blog and ao3. I hope you enjoy. 🖤

She pushed him away, the palms of her hands flat against his firm chest. He stumbled back, caught off guard by her rejection. Chest heaving he leveled her with with his patina gaze.

“You don’t get to kiss me,” Gwyn sneered, drawing the back her hand across her mouth as if to wipe away his transgression.

“Oh?” He challenged. Back straightening, the shadowsinger rose to his full height and squared his shoulders.

“You’re a liar.”

“So are you,” he growled.

“What are we doing, shadowsinger?”

“Sparring,” he smirked. “Obviously.”

He sprung. Using his expansive wing span to bear down on her in a fraction of time, Gwyn barely had enough space to bring up her dagger and block his oncoming attack. She slid to the left, reversed her blade and aimed for his side.

Azriel smacked the blunt end of her dagger with the back of his forearm, knocking it off course. Grabbing her wrist, she chouldn’t stop her shriek as he slammed a thigh into her stomach, knocking her flat onto her ass.

She rolled and kicked out at the same time, ramming her foot into his ankle. He wouldn’t fall though. She knew that. So, she brought her leg up to kick him again, this time his inner thigh.

He went down. She was vaguely aware of the pain in her own limbs but she kept at him, throwing herself onto him. He grabbed her wrist before she could snatch his dagger away. They froze like that, staring each other down as Gwyn bared her teeth and strained against his superior strength. Azriel’s lips twitched upward at one corner and she growled in frustration.

Yanking up a leg in a feat of feminine flexibility, she hooked her leg through his elbow, wrenching his arm down with her full weight. Her wrist screamed, near breaking when he didn’t let go. His back arched just before his hips thrust up, flipping her off and over him. Using the momentum, she rolled before he could pin her. She scrambled after her dagger.

Gwyn skidded across the ground sending dirt into the air and grasped the weapon at the edge of the ring. She’d just straightened when Azriel lept up in a single graceful move and landed before her. Her mouth twisted and he glared back.

Both breathing hard, she gripped her dagger and sank into a ready stance. Az smirked, copying her movements. Gwyn swallowed. This no longer felt like sparring, but rather something personal leaking into what should have been simple, routine dagger practice.

They attacked at once. Gwyn’s legs ached but she managed to dance away from his first strike. She stabbed. He blocked. She kicked, ducked, and tried to jab him in the kidney but he blocked again. Jumping back she let loose a volley of offensive moves. Azriel was impossibly fast, blocking every one - then his dagger shot out, the handle knocking into her shoulder, sending her spinning backward.

She moved with the spin, turning her body so that she wouldn’t fall and kicked out at him again, attempting to plant a booted foot in his belly. Yet, he managed to twist away and caught her leg. She punched at his knee with the handle of her dagger and he dropped her.

Gwyn scrambled back, spinning to face him. He tensed, not attacking. The arrogant smirk is gone and now he just looks frustrated. She gives him a ‘what the fuck is your problem’ look. What was he waiting for? She inhaled sharply. How could she best him? It was like he knew her movements before she did. Damn it. She didn’t know how to beat him. Brute strength wouldn’t work, and her strategies were getting her nowhere.

Azriel sprung. Her time to think was up.

The attacks he unleashed were swift. Gwyn blocked and dodged. She didn’t catch everything and though it burned her pride, she knew he wasn’t using the full scope of his abilities. There was no matching him. Not yet. The shadowsinger was just that good. When his third strike caught her in the diaphragm she dropped to her knees at his feet, clutching her belly, unable to breathe. She trembled, exhausted. He started to take a step back to give her time to recover.

Before she could gasp a single breath, Gwyn shot up and tackled him, shoulder to stomach. He staggered, wings flaring, catching him before he fell. Her strength gave out and all she could do to keep from falling was grip handfuls of his shirt. A loud rip sounded as the side seam tore. She dragged herself to her feet, bouncing away from him on the balls of her feet.

Azriel pulled his torn shirt off and chucked it in a single sweep of his arm. Gwyn could only stare. The tattoos that curled over his shoulders wound down his chest, a curl over his heart. She licked her lips and pushed her shoulders back. With her chin lifted, she gestured for Azriel to come for her. His answering grin was a dark, wild thing. He stepped forward in a slow prowl. Then lunged. She leapt at the last second to meet him. Crashing into her, he grabbed her at the same time she grabbed onto him.

Their combined momentum was so powerful that they both slammed hard into the ground, Azriel above her. He managed to cup the back of her head to cushion the impact of their fall. His other hand was fisted in her shirt, holding her still. Both of her legs wrapped tight around his middle, her hands pressed into his chest.

Time slowed. Noise disappeared. Azriel was pressed hard against her, his bare chest hot, slick with sweat. He breathed deep, chest rising and falling. The hand at the back of her head closed slowly, pulling her hair into his fist. He pulled her head back until their eyes met.

Gwyn grabbed the shadowsinger’s head and yanked his mouth down to hers.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. Not like what they’d shared in the past. Azriel’s mouth met hers with raging heat. She arched into him as he shoved her further into the ground, mouth moving, fierce, carnal, and demanding. His strength was all around her, holding her, pinning her helplessly. Her hands rose and she sank her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, pulling him closer still, demanding. Always wanting more. His hand tightened in her hair, angling her further, deepening their kiss into something wilder. She felt undone.

Eventually, Azriel pulled back with one last nipping bite to her lip. Molten warmth spread, pouring through her. Faces inches apart, both panting, eyes fierce, they held. Gwyn wasn’t sure if she should unwind her legs from around him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

He pulled away, her legs untangling from his waist. With a single push, Azriel was on his feet. His hand reached out and she slid her palm against his. He pulled. She found herself standing against him, hand still holding hers.

Fingers brushed the underside of her chin, tipping her head back. She stared at him uncertainly, his mask back in place. The shadowsinger was unreadable, even with his fingertips still resting against her chin. The sudden desire to pull his mouth back to hers warred within.

“Gwyn-“

“Are you in love with Elain, Azriel?”

His breath caught. She didn’t often call him by his name, preferring the title. It was what he was, who he was - but the intimacy of hearing his name on her lips gave him pause.

“Do you love Balthazar,” he tossed back.

“Why? Jealous?”

A wolffish smile spread his lips into a unkind grin. “If I thought even for a second that boy was competition, perhaps I would be.”

Her eyes widened, growing frustrated, no longer distracted by his lips or their sparring, Gwyn reached beneath her shirt. With a strong yank, she pulled the infamous necklace free of her neck, tossing it the ground where it landed at his feet.

“Don’t do that.” Azriel’s voice was low, threaded with shadow.

“I wasn’t the one you intended to give this to,” Gwyn accused. “So, I’m giving it back.”

“It’s yours, Gwyn, I gave it-“

“To Elain!” She shouted, hands fisting at her side. “Or was it meant for Mor first, I’m confused.”

So, was he. He sighed, defeat settling in him. His wings dropped, though not hitting the ground, and he leveled her with a look.

“You’re right,” he said. His voice was ice-cold silk that slid under Gwyn’s skin and down into her bones. “I did give it to Elain. She didn’t want it,” he confessed. Gwyn’s lips parted in surprise.

“Why give it to me, then?” Her voice was quiet, soft.

He shakes his head, a wrinkle in his forehead appearing. His shadows surfaced around him, wrapping him in darkness.

“Don’t you dare hide from me,” she hissed, watching as the shadowsinger all but disappeared from her sight.

“I gave the necklace-“ He stopped, shadows trembling around him as if they waited expectantly for him to continue. “After Elain returned it, I gave the necklace to Clotho. She suggested I give it to you. She thought… I thought you might like it.”

She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting but it hadn’t been that. Not exactly.

“Why me, Azriel?”

He stared at her, shadows coiling and unraveling. A blushing glow bloomed high in his cheeks.

“I thought… I don’t know what things have been like for you after - I thought, with all the ugly things dealt you…” He pushes a scarred hand through his hair, scattering the dark strands into chaos. “It’s an uncomplicated design and if you hold it the right way it catches light. I thought you might wear it and look at it from time to time, find comfort in its beauty. To bring something lovely to your life that… It was stupid-“

“You thought I’d find it beautiful. The way you did.” She hadn’t meant to interrupt. The thought had slipped, the confusion and disbelief in her voice thick.

He looked at her, brow furrowed. “Yes.”

She focused on the small pendant at his feet. It’s chain coiled elegantly, catching in the moonlight. Lovely in its simplicity. Gwyn couldn’t quite take a breath. Just a necklace - something beautiful he’d wanted to share. With her, even if it had not been his first intention. A gift that wasn’t meant to be but had turned into something meaningful they both treasured.

Except that he had convinced himself she wouldn’t want it if she’d known the truth. She watched him, no longer guarded, his raw vulnerability darkening his eyes. He’d expected rejection.

It took everything he had to hold still, to keep his hands at his sides, to resist the urge to reach for her. Azriel didn’t know what he’d do if he touched her. It wasn’t out of a desire for pleasure, hers or his. He wanted to touch her because something hot and pulling tightened in his chest and it hurt to breathe. Without conscious thought, his hand rose toward her as though drawn up by an invisible string. As if she wielded her nymph magic and he was caught in her spell. Ready to drown in the pool of her eyes.

Scarred fingers brushed across her soft cheek, her skin warm, flushed. His touch trailed lightly across the side of her face and his hand curled around the back of her neck. Running his thumb along her jaw and to the corner of her mouth, Gwyn knew he was going to kiss her again.

Before he leaned in, before he could capture her lips with his, a cold thrill ran down his spine and splintered into shards of ice. He stiffened, knowing who he’d find watching them. His instincts screamed. They weren’t alone.

He caught movement over Gwyn’s shoulder. Not hidden, but in plain view. Watching. Waiting. Stamping her foot against the rings dirt floor, sending little puffs of dust cloud into the air. That silhouette was unmistakable, as was the arctic chill that ran down his spine.

Nesta Archeron.

With Azriel’s attention fixed on her, the female arched a single brow. Silver flames danced within the depths of those eyes. Her gaze moved from his to where his hand still lingered at Gwyn’s face.

Shit.