#hot boy self care behavior
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
boxwinebaddie · 10 months ago
Note
do u think we can hear a little bit of the kyle cant say i love u ask?
ugh, yes </3
so...fair warning, idk what this is. also...
why is it written in present tense? idk. anyways!
i started ~writing~ something ( bad ) that i was going to maybe slap to the end of the ask, which is not proofread or finished, but basically context is that it's the #ravesey divorce fight, the climax of it...
...where stan starts packing a bag and for one of the first times in his pleated, completed, type-a, show no mercy, no nonsense, new jersey slaughterhouse life, kyle broflovski...is paralyzed with fear.
because kyle who always has his shit together is completely losing it.
everything.
his everything.
his stan.
again.
and he's ripped at the seams, dissolving right before our very eyes: his perfect auburn tresses which usually cascade and glide effortlessly down his lithe shoulders, are fucked up, frizzy and falling all over his face which is pale, creased and gaunt...
— like he's seen a ghost.
his pupils are blown to high heaven and shot to all hell. dilated like two green distress signals. once fierce now frightened, floundering.
his special stan glasses are crooked and fogging up from how hard and uneven his breathing is with the chain nearly suffocating him from how rough and imprecise his startled, frenzied movements are.
he's shaking his head in horror, in shock, in grief, in utter disbelief. really, his whole fucking body is shaking like an addict going through withdrawals, but this is a million times worse than watching someone flush a pack of cigarettes down the toilet. it stings. it burns. it lingers.
in a way that stan won't.
but kyle needs him to, needs him to stay, needs him close, needs him forever, so he's talking fast, way, way, Way too fast, like if he can say enough other words, i love you will seem far less grand and lustrous...
but they're not.
whilist time passes achingly slow. and kyle's given hundreds of speeches, debates and lectures, but words fail him, his lips quiver, his mouth opens and closes helplessly and that booming voice is barely a whisper when he finally musters up the dis-courage to mumur;
"...b-baby? baby! where—where are you going?! w-where are YO—“
kyle darts forward and reaches for his boyfriend before he turns into a memory again, not sure where he was aiming. to please, to squeeze, to stroke his tear-slicked cheek, maybe? to dust the tips of the his trembling, unworthy fingers cross that little spot of sun just beneath his right eye. the gentle curve of his jaw, far less violent than his, or—or even just on the side of his arm where love is written in spanish. amor. like tracing the letters onto his skin would be good enough.
but it never was.
he never was.
and as proof of his inadequacy, stan sails to the left and ducks right under kyle's arm, which collides with the quilted down of their couch.
…their couch.
how long would their couch be their couch? kyle thought that their couch would always be their couch! kyle thought that—
"out."
it was a single syllable, uttered in the same bratty voice harnessed by misbehaved teenage boys everywhere, but it was different coming from stan, whose mouth was not made to start fights or draw blood. it was a horrible, harsh sound, wrought with an undercurrent of sadness.
it was then that the realization dawns on him.
stan wasn't angry with him.
stan was disappointed in him.
which was far, far worse.
kyle wants to look strong, look stable, look sturdy, so stan would look at him — god, he would do anything for stan to just look at him! and stop packing that stupid fucking bag, that dumb black jansport backpack they'd bought back to school shopping because...his stan was going back to school. and kyle was so...so proud of him.
but gerald never was, gerald was loud, so kyle was loud, so when he should have congratulated stan for doing something difficult, he criticized him for not doing something easy! like the dishes and told stan he'd stitched his name into the bag...just in case he lost it.
funny how things happen.
…not funny.
not funny at all, actually!
so then…why was he laughing?
why the Fuck was he laug—
"out? Out? O-OUTSIDE?! stan, you—ya can't be serious?! you're in a little t-shirt and—and shorts, you'll freeze to death! you'll—“
kyle clings to the thin fabric of stan's tee-shirt, admiring the myriad of sauce stains and makeup marks that, on a normal night, kyle might be livid about, but tonight...they're lovely; they're so, so lovely.
just like the boy who made them.
the boy kyle loves.
not rockstar raven of crimson dawn.
but sweet, sensitive stanley marsh.
his stan.
his...
kyle's eyes fall absentmindedly to the tattered hem of stan's shorts, where amidst a jagged, serrated sea of angry self mutilizations past, was a new beginning...the beginning of a word, a sound, a letter...a
K.
a k...for kyle.
stan had gotten it done last anti-valentine's day, as a gift, for him, but mostly...for himself. because stan cruelly hated himself, every part of his body, but he hated that part the most. his inner thighs, the valley that stretched between them...so he'd gotten kyle's name tattooed down there, so that when he was off on tour and missed his boyfriend terribly...he was with him.
always.
so that on his very worst days, when he felt the worst about himself, he could still see his super best friend. a precious skin-deep reminder that when the dysphoria hit and he felt like shit, craved a stiff drink and the razor blade winked…that when he felt falsely ugly...
...someone thought he was truly beautiful.
and he was.
he was really...and truly beautiful.
everyday. every second. even now. especially now. and god, what kyle wouldn't do to place his lips in that spot right there, anywhere, everywhere! because kyle couldn't say i love you and they weren't married, no, not in the traditional sense, but even so, kyle went to temple, a place of sacred worship & recited his vows every night.
every stroke, every sigh, every stretch of blessed skin.
i love you.
i love you.
i love—
"because you're so Worried about me, right, kyle?"
stan sneers, holding his name like a knife between teeth.
"—because you 'LOVE' me, right?"
he spit and twist it.
it was twisted. and kyle feels those spiteful syllables split him open like shrapnel. he gasps like stan had shot him, grasping the hem of his shirt so hard that it hurt, like a little kid clinging to his mother's skirt.
so scared she would leave.
so scared she would go, begging
don't go.
please don't go.
please, please, please don't g—
"NO! i—i do! stan, i do!”
kyle tries to argue but nearly breaks his neck nodding, with his shrill voice weak and watery and wanting.
“baby—BABY! i do, i DO! i really do! i—I LO—“
but the words wouldn't come.
kyle was banging on the wall, iron clad and impenetrable, he fought and shouted, kicked and screamed and still...nothing would come.
he couldn't say it. he couldn't FUCKING say it!
why...why?
Why?
WHY?!
he had never wanted to cry before but he could feel it in the back of his throat. he wants to come out. the little boy he'd trapped back there. but he couldn't be that big again, that small...that pathetic. so he bites down HARD. harder than he'd even bitten before and thrashes his cheek with his teeth, the taste of blood filling his mouth.
and for a moment...he feels dizzy...
because the blood tastes like metal.
like stan.
just like sta—
"save it, mi sabelotodo."
stan sniffs and lifts his head up slowly. his damp bangs are stuck to his forehead, the tips just barely kissed with bleach, mere whispers of the boy they wanted him, those beautiful dark roots growing with him into the man he wanted to be. whose wonderful face was flushed with frustration, whose kind, bright blue eyes were...
god, all kyle had wanted was for stan to look at him. but it gores him; it guts him. it carves him; it cuts him.
it was wrong. it was all wrong!
he took it back. he took it all back!
take me back, baby.
he wants to plead, while his lip shakes and bleeds.
stanley, PLEASE take me ba—
then, in one foul swoop, the boy with the bag shrugs his shoulders and kyle's hand crumples back down onto the couch. broken. lifeless.
"—save it for someone you ACTUALLY love."
17 notes · View notes
kiwi-bitchez · 9 months ago
Text
The Girlfriend Experience
Tumblr media
Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 
Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise
Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!
A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 
“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.
“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”
“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.
“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”
“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”
“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”
“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 
This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.
“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.
“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”
You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 
There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 
“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”
You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.
When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.
After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.
It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 
“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.
Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 
“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”
She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 
“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 
You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 
“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”
“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 
“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”
“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.
“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”
You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 
“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”
“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 
“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 
“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 
“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.
“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”
“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 
Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 
“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”
He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 
“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”
“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”
The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 
Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.
“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 
When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”
Still no reply.
“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 
“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 
Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”
“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”
“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 
“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”
“Huh?”
“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 
“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.
“No.”
“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.
“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”
“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 
“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 
“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“
“No,” you cut him off.
“WHA-“
“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”
“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 
“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”
“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 
“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”
“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.
This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 
After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 
After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.
As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 
Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 
“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”
It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.
“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 
“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 
On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 
“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”
He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 
You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 
“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 
“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”
“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”
“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.
Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  
“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”
“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  
“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”
“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 
“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 
“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”
“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 
“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 
You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 
“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 
He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 
Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 
“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 
“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 
“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”
The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 
“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 
“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”
“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”
Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 
Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 
“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”
“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 
“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”
“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 
“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”
“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”
“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 
“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”
“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”
“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”
“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 
“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 
The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 
“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”
“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”
“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”
“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”
He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 
“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 
“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 
“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”
‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.
You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.
“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 
He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 
He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.
As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 
“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”
The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 
Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.
Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 
He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 
As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 
“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 
He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 
You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 
The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 
You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 
Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 
But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 
You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 
“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  
After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 
“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”
“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 
“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 
You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 
He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?
On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 
He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 
Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 
You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 
“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 
“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 
The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 
“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.
“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”
He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.
“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”
To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.
“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”
Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 
After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 
Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 
You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.
Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 
As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 
“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 
“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.
“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.
“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 
“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 
Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 
“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”
Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 
“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.
Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 
You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 
“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”
“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.
“From bugs?”
“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”
“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”
You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.
“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.
“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 
“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”
You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.
After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 
It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 
The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 
Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 
Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.
What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 
“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 
You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.
“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.
“Am I what?”
“Are you asking me?”
“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 
“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.
Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.
Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 
Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 
He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 
While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.
“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”
“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”
“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”
He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 
“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 
“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”
Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.
“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”
As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.
Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.
“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”
“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”
“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”
“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”
“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.
“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”
“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”
You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 
The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 
A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 
It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 
Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.
Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 
“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 
There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 
“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.
“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”
“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”
You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 
Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.
“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 
“Oh, I was just waiting for-“
“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.
Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“
“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.
Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.
“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.
“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.
He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 
“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.
“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”
“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 
“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”
“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”
A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 
“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”
“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.
“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”
You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 
“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”
“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.
“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 
He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 
“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 
As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 
“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”
You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 
“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.
You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 
“Oh my god, fuck off!”
You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.
Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 
“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 
“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.
“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 
“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”
“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.
“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”
Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 
“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 
“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 
“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."
“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”
Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.
“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”
He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 
It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 
“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 
“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”
Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 
“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 
He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.
Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.
He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 
“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.
“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.
You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.
He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 
Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 
“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”
Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 
“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 
The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.
“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”
Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”
“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”
“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 
“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”
“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”
If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 
The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.
He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 
“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”
Jackpot. 
A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 
“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 
Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 
He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 
“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”
Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 
“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”
The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 
“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”
“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.
“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”
You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 
His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 
Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 
Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 
If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.
“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”
“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”
He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 
Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 
You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 
“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 
“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”
“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”
You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 
As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 
“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 
“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”
You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 
“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 
You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.
He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.
The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 
Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.
You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 
And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.
“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 
You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.
Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 
Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 
He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 
You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.
You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 
All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 
The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.
“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 
After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 
You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.
Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 
“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.
He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 
“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 
“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”
Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 
“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 
“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 
“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”
You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 
Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 
“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”
The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.
Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 
“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 
Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 
You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 
In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 
“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 
He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 
You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 
Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 
“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 
It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 
Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 
“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 
“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 
In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 
The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.
“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 
He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.
Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 
His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 
Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 
He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 
He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 
Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 
“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.
“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.
“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 
His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 
“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”
The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 
“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 
Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 
Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 
Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.
“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 
“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”
Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 
“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 
A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 
As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 
He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 
When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 
“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 
“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 
“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 
He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 
“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.
“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 
“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.
He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 
“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 
“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”
“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 
You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.
“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 
“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 
“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 
“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 
He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 
As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.
“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”
“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”
His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 
You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 
Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.
“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 
“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 
He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 
“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 
And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.
His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 
When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 
“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”
With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 
The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 
Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 
He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.
Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 
“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 
“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”
Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 
“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 
“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”
His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 
The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 
When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 
His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.
Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 
You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 
You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 
You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 
Apparently not,
Days pass, and no call. 
It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 
After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 
Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 
“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 
“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”
“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”
“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 
You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 
“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 
“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”
Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 
“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”
“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”
He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“
You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”
“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.
At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 
“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”
“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”
You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 
“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”
“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”
“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”
“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”
“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”
Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 
Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 
“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 
You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 
“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”
You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 
Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 
Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.
At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.
And there he is.
In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.
"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.
"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."
You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.
"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."
He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.
"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."
You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.
"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."
He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.
"And I owe you a few dates, for real."
As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.
"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.
"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.
You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.
6K notes · View notes
gloomwitchwrites · 3 months ago
Note
Cod people when reader has really bad/intense Keratosis Pilaris on her arms and a bit on her thighs? 🩷
Tumblr media
Anon, I'm not sure if you have Keratosis Pilaris, but I'm assuming you do since you requested this. I am more than happy to write a little comfort and sweetness. Since Keratosis Pilaris affects people differently, I wanted to give some variety here without being overly specific. I took creative liberties on how the 141 guys treat reader here. I went for as much sweetness and healthy behavior as possible.
Presented in four double drabbles.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, self-care, affection, kissing, intimacy, all comfort/no hurt
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
Tumblr media
John Price
“What is all that?”
You lean back to allow John a better look at your computer screen. On it is your current online shopping cart. It’s full of products. Ever since receiving a diagnosis from your dermatologist, you’ve been researching like crazy, putting all sorts of products in your cart to save for later.
“Options,” you answer.
The internet is full of advice and what products to use. It’s all confusing, and your dermatologist wasn’t entirely helpful.
“I don’t know what to order,” you continue. “There are too many options. Saved everything for now until I can look at it later.”
John gives the screen a glance before giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m off. Pub with the boys.”
“Enjoy.”
Closing the laptop, you decide to go to bed.
It isn’t until you’re under the covers, ready to shut off the light that your phone buzzes. It’s a new email.
Your Order Has Been Placed.
“I didn’t order anything,” you murmur, opening the email.
You didn’t.
John did.
Everything you had in your cart. Bought on his dime.
You tap out a brief message to him.
You didn’t need to.
His response comes immediately.
I wanted to.
SImon "Ghost" Riley
“You’re covering up,” observes Simon.
It’s true, though you don’t want to admit it. Whenever you’re having a particularly bad flare up, you want to hide. With it being colder out, you’re having issues.
“Not at all,” you reply. “Just cold.”
Simon frowns. “It’s hot in here.”
You wrap the blanket tighter around you, but it’s true. You are incredibly warm.
Sighing, Simon sits on the edge of the sofa. The backs of his fingers brush against your cheek.
“Having a flare up?”
You inhale deeply to settle your nerves. “Yes.”
“Can I do anything?” asks Simon, softly, his thumb lightly pressing to your chin, tipping your gaze upward to his face.
“Can you grab my moisturizer?”
Simon answers by placing a soft kiss against your cheekbone. He slips away, returning a few minutes later with your favorite bottle. You reach for it, but Simon shakes his head.
“I’ll do it,” he says.
Slowly, you lean back, opening the blanket to reveal your legs. Simon guides them over his lap. He stares down at the bumps, then leans down, planting soft kisses along your thighs.
He sits up, uncaps the bottle, and begins to work the lotion into your skin.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Most of the time, the bumps stay to your arms. You know you’re having a larger flare up when it appears on your thighs. It’s frustrating, and when you’re frustrated, you always text your boyfriend, Kyle.
When you sent him a few quick texts, you didn’t think much of it. You thought he might respond with gentle reassurances of love and support. But Kyle doesn’t reply.
Instead, he appears at your front door.
“What is all this?” you laugh, reaching out, grabbing an offered bag.
Kyle shrugs. “Thought I’d come by. Have a little night in. That all right?”
You open one of the bags. It’s your favorite takeaway order.
“Of course. You’re always welcome.”
Kyle grins, and quickly kisses your cheek. Shutting the door with his foot, he heads into the kitchen, placing the other bags on the counter. You start digging through them. Not only did he bring dinner, but he brought your favorite snacks and beverages, along with your preferred moisturizer when you’re having a bad flare up.
When you turn around to thank him, you find Kyle adjusting the sofa, snagging blankets and pillows, creating a large next for the two of you.
“Movie?” he asks.
John "Soap" MacTavish
“What’s this?”
Johnny lightly taps the side of the tub. “Hop in.”
You walk up to it. Reaching your hand in, you find the water warm but not scalding. “What did you put it in?”
Johnny nods toward the bag of moisturizing soaking beads you always add to a bath.
“Thank you,” you murmur softly.
When you step into the bath, you expect Johnny to leave, but he doesn’t. He grabs the small exfoliating brush you always use with the soft bristles. Johnny gently lifts your leg from the warm water. Pressing the brush against your thigh, he lightly rocks the brush back and forth across the skin.
There are candles lit, and the light is off.
Johnny takes his time, lightly exfoliating where he’s supposed to while you silently soak, enjoying the subtle warmth. He offers a warm towel when you’re done, and he dries your body, leaving little kisses behind.
Once dry, you sit on the edge of the tub. With moisturizer in hand, Johnny pops the lid, squeezing some into his palms. He rubs it between his hands, warming it up before applying it your skin. Even in this, he’s gentle.
It’s sweet. Nice.
You feel loved.
taglist:
@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus @beebeechaos
@no-oneelsebutnsu @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41
@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat
@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim
@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307
@itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep
@blackhawkfanatic @sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie
@kadeeesworld @umno-yeah @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @lxblm
@arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @ash-tarte @spookyscaryspoon @enarien
496 notes · View notes
icarusredwings · 2 months ago
Text
Thinking about this quote I saw where it said "You're so sweet but you have teeth that only a hunter could have. Here, Let me help you try them out. You can have a taste of me" or something and it's supposed to be a very complicated quote about helping someone find themselves knowing that they're going to bite the hand that feeds them and yet you do not mind because you know that the bite is not meant to be aggressive.
It makes me think about how willing Wade is to let Logan be animalistic around him to the point of letting him hurt him and bite him simply because Wade understands what it's like to be forced to hide your true self and how lonely it must have been for Logan to have to restrain his rough play style because he didn't want to hurt anyone.
I think this is one of the most beautiful parts of the Fox sculpture scene and the van scene. Where Logan realizes that he has a playmate now, and while he doesn't WANT to hurt Wade, but he CAN because it doesn't have any real consequences. He can be as feral as he wants with Wade, bite him, scratch him, kick him, and yet Wade comes back for more every time. Asks him to play rough, begs Logan to show him his true self, something he's not used too and is suspicious about.
And at the end of the day, even if it does hurt like a bitch, Wade forgives him and praises him for being himself (Wade saying hes a good big strong boy when he skewers Cassandra).
I think of it, like when a dog finds a dog who matches his play style despite other dogs not enjoying the pushy and tackling methods. But Wde does. He'll tackle Logan right back because these two morons are very rough at their core.
Imagine a Mastiff only living with chihuahuas and getting told off for playing too rough all the time but this mastiff meets an equally rough great dane and become perfect playmates.
THAT is Logan.
Or imagine your cat is running around with zoomies and bites your arm. That's Logan too.
THAT'S why they go from fighting to playing to fucking. It's only half the fact of it being hot and attractive, but also it emotionally validates Logan, making him feel understood, cared for and loved. What is the best way to show someone you want them to be themsleves? Idk let them stab you I guess?? But don't do that.
Also, funfact various species do this, including humans. Many people prefer playing and understanding behavior before deciding to sleep with someone, Wolverines are not any different.
350 notes · View notes
httpsserene · 1 year ago
Text
𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐰/𝐥𝐧𝟒
Tumblr media
📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you’re upset with the switch up the internet has pulled on you. a few years ago, everybody was saying you were too pretty for lando, but now they’re drooling over him? you will not be letting this slide.  📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: fluff. mild angst. humor. twt users being twt users. reader is a fashion designer (not important but mentioned). reader is also wild af. brain-rot. not beta-read. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lando norris x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: smau. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: spice girl • aminé
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: in honor of lando's birthday :) look y’all—i saw one tik tok edit that was like “why is lando kinda…” and i audibly said KINDA???? and then i got mad like, how are people just noticing how fine he is. and then i saw another one that was like, “oh everybody thinks charles is the prettiest on the grid…but now introducing: lando” and i almost threw my phone across the room :) so this is inspired by me flexing that i have always thought lando was fine, and that i’m also mad that i have to share him. loves, this is complete brain rot and it took me years to recreate these ig posts for some reason; have fun reading !!!
all pics are from pinterest/op's
want to be added to my taglist or submit a request? send me an ask!
all of my posts can be found from my table of contents
anything on your mind? talk to me!
Tumblr media
twitter • three years ago, 2020
Tumblr media Tumblr media
instagram
yninstagram • three years ago, 2020
Tumblr media
liked by landonorris, mclaren, maxfewtrell, lewishamilton, and 16,175,978 others
yninstagram lando norris is the man i want to spend the rest of my life with. he’s perfection personified. the most soft, kindest, sweetest, considerate, and funniest man has allowed me the privilege of being his girlfriend. i’m forever thankful that we get to grow together. he’s the cutest, hottest, and prettiest boy to ME–and that���s all i care about, and that’s all you need to accept. i don’t give a FUCK about your opinions on who *i* should date. i’m the only person who’s decisions matter concerning my romantic relationships. why the hell should y’all bitches who don’t even use their own photos for their pfp’s and use a k-idol’s face instead, dictate who is hot or not. it’s incredibly vein, disgusting, and immature behavior from people who think they’re my fans. acting like jealous school children isn't cute; i was never your property. it’s hilarious too, considering some of y’all are grown women DOUBLE my age talking shit about my business–go worry about why your kids don’t want anything to do with you anymore.
tagged landonorris
view comments
yninstagram matter of fact, go ahead and change your little profile pictures to real pictures of you, i don’t want to see any filters. then we can all see that all y’all want to do is spread insecurity stemming from your own self-hatred 🙂
yninstagram and while i have you all here, my winter season clothes will be restocked on the 15th.
comments have been disabled.
Tumblr media
twitter • imessage • 2023
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
instagram
landonorris • august 24th • zandvoort ⚑
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by yninstagram, mclaren, carlossainzjr, and 547,930 others
landonorris back in my favorite place
view comments
yninstagram first!! stay back hoes 🤺🤺
➥ user being called a hoe by y/n is not what i expected this year
➥ user she has notif’s 😭on 😭 for 😭 lando 😭
yninstagram how r u so HOT 🥵
yninstagram that sweater is mine now 👺
➥ landonorris i can just get another for you love
➥ yninstagram …i want this one lan🫤
➥ landonorris okay it’s yours 🫠
user neither of them have any backbone when it comes to each other
➥ yninstagram as it should be 😤
user might have to trip and fall into lando’s arms this weekend
➥ yninstagram i’m flying in tomorrow rethink your plan 🙂
➥ user i think i’ll avoid lando like the plague this weekend 😅
➥ user smart decision babes
landonorris • september 12th
Tumblr media
liked by yninstagram, lnfour, tumitravel, and 425,395 others
landonorris coming in hot @ tumitravel
view comments
yninstagram come in me—i mean come home to me haha 😳😊
➥ landonorris babe please not in front of the sponsors 😧
➥ tumitravel oh no pls don’t stop for us 🫣 we stan y/n
user i saw this photo shoot LIVE!!! lando was so sweet, he signed my hat for me, and he smells so good 😩😩
➥ yninstagram i’ll chop off your nose and then you can be voldemort for halloween 👺
user i don’t know if i want to choke him or have him choke ME
➥ yninstagram how about me choking you
➥ user omg i’m down for a threesome 😳
➥ yninstagram choking you to death :)
➥ user i don’t wanna play this game anymore
landonorris • september 18th • singapore ⚑
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by yninstagram, mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 950,706 others
landonorris whatttaaaaa weekend ❤
view comments
yninstagram GODDAMN
carlossainzjr vamossss landito ❤️💪🏼🏆
➥ landonorris ayyyy 🧡🥳🥳
➥ yninstagram my boysssss 🥰
yninstagram that’s my boyfriend 🤤
➥ landonorris last photo is just for you 😋
yninstagram so proud of you baby, i’m running out of room to put all these trophies <3
➥ landonorris v happy to be your trophy husband
user i’m in love with this singapore haircut 🤤 thank you for not fucking it up lando 😅
➥ yninstagram mmm yes, i’m thrilled it’s still long on the top 😍 it gives me something to tug on
user surprised y/n allowed him to post that last one
➥ yninstagram he doesn’t need my permission, but i get to see him naked so i rdc
user quadrant helmet it so beautiful! i want it to stay 😭
➥ user i want him to fuck me with it on
➥ yninstagram out of pocket…but completely valid honestly—delete your account 😊
liked by landonorris
yninstagram carlando 1-2 makes up for the war i’m fighting in these comments
mclaren • novemeber 8th
Tumblr media
liked by landonorris, f1, yninstagram, and 97,293 others
mclaren pulling up fresh with @ landonorris
view comments
yninstagram not pictured: @ landonorris pulling up to OUR flat
➥ user y/n said “he’s coming home with meeeee”
f1 does he come with the jacket👀
➥ yninstagram no, but the price of me folding you like a lawn chair is included in shipping & handling
➥ f1 i’ll go sit down 😅
➥ user she’s fighting the f1 main??? this is mentally-ill behavior y/n!!!
yninstagram mclaren admin go stand in a corner and stare at the wall
➥ mclaren they made me post this!!! i would NEVER risk upsetting you ma’am 🙇🏼‍♀️
➥ yninstagram no talking from the timeout corner 🫵🏽
user we don’t care about the jacket. which organ do i have to sell to buy an hour with him?
➥ yninstagram both kidneys
➥ user but you need at least one kidney to live?
➥ yninstagram how,,,unfortunate
user model!lando always glowssssss
➥ yninstagram it’s the 9 step skincare routine i have him on, you can follow steps 1-8 on his ig
➥ user what’s step 9?
➥ yninstagram kissing me 🤭
Tumblr media
lando.jpg • novemeber 13th • with my wife ⚑
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by yninstagram, carlossainzjr, mclaren, team_quadrant, and 976,234 others
lando.jpg lucky to have found you so early in my life. you're my best birthday gift.
tagged yninstagram
view comments
yninstagram posting my side boob on the jpg account? forgiven since you called me your wife 🥺
➥ lando.jpg thought i’d start practicing your future title, mrs. norris
➥ yninstagram come back to bed. you can start practicing giving me your kids too.
user i want y/n to bury my head in between her boobs
➥ lando.jpg no. i sleep there also—you’re blocked 🤗
danielricciardo as long as i’m the godfather, i can forget i’ve ever read this 🤮
➥carlossainzjr get in line mate, i’ve called being baby norris’ godfather ages ago
➥maxverstappen wait your turn mates, clearly i am the correct choice for godfather
➥maxfewtrell ah, i believe you lads have forgotten my existence
➥yninstagram baby norris doesn’t exist yet, no need to fight to the death rn 🙄
➥lando.jpg i’ll convince the mrs to have four, for my racing number and so you each have a godchild 😅
user y/n may have won the war, but i’ve won the battle—bisexuals have been fed today!!!
➥user girl, i’m straight and i’ve zoomed in on the last photo an unhealthy amount of times
➥user i diagnose you with y/n-sexuality it’s incredibly common in humans
liked by lando.jpg
oscarpiastri you two are made for each other 😀
➥lando.jpg this sounds like an insult 🙂
➥yninstagram i thought kids under 13 weren’t allowed on ig
➥oscarpiastri you’re not even a year older than me @ yninstagram
mclaren mama y papa
➥ yninstagram still on timeout.
➥ mclaren :(
taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz
Tumblr media
© httpsserene2023
1K notes · View notes
liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 6 months ago
Text
What Attracts Them [1]
Tumblr media
Alastor
Tumblr media
Vulnerability. If there is any weakness or fault in your self-concept, Alastor will pick up on it and try to exploit it to garner a connection with you. He’s not particularly fond of approaching someone without an ulterior motive in mind or solely because he finds you mildly interesting -among other sinners, that is. He needs leverage and uses whatever he can pry or observe about you to his advantage. Need protection? He’ll offer to guard you. Need financial support. He’ll hand over any amount you desire. As long as you either sell your soul or initiate loyalty to him, Alastor will proudly proclaim you his (property).
Alastor is wildly addicted to dual-sided sinners. The pure joy he gets from seeing you go from being sweet, shy, and agreeable to bloodthirsty, witty, and downright stubborn gets him going. You don’t often get that way unless it’s to put someone in their place or to show how protective you are of him -even if he’s far more powerful than you in every way. Still, when you do, his grin stretches wider than usual, and he’ll constantly try to encourage your violent behavior out into the open after the fact.
He’s got a massive thing for motherly types. Partly because he is a momma’s boy but mostly because he is very prone to being taken care of, as much as he’ll deny needing anyone’s help. What overlord would willingly say they like having their ears petted, antlers touched, or hair messed with by the one they love? None. And he won't be the first. You can always do the simplest things too: helping Charlie around the hotel, giving angel advice (even if he doesn’t use it), or running around with Nifty trying to help her catch bugs strikes a nerve in the stag he can't ignore. Seeing you tend to others makes him incredibly hot-blooded. It gives him more motive and excuses to breed you later on.
Dancing. He loves to trot around his room late at night with you. Soft jazz or swing music playing from him keeps a smile on your face as he leads you through various steps, effortlessly twirling you around the room and addicted to hearing you giggle softly anytime he sweeps you off your feet. He was a phenomenal dancer while alive, and that fact hasn’t changed in death. You will either have to learn from him or already be light on your feet when Alastor decides to ask you for a dance.
Alastor doesn’t mind having a chaotic partner but values a higher level of ‘obedience’ from them. If you aren’t the type to make a deal with the stag and he can’t convince you to do so, he’ll settle for an almost toxic form of companionship. What he says goes, and if you put up a fight, he’s not above reinforcing his command. Physically or emotionally. No one has ever called the Radio Demon fair, and they’ll never have a chance to. He does enjoy your stubborn fits occasionally, though….they make it so much more fun for him when he has to break you into submission again.
Overprotectiveness. He’s got a bad habit of practically stalking you whenever you’re away from him, but you have quite a temper when he’s put in a vulnerable position. This doesn’t happen often, though. For instance, his brawl with Adam enraged you to want to skin the angel alive. Luckily, Nifty and Lucifer got to know him before you did. Alastor adores it when you hiss at sinners who stare at him a little too long and can’t help but smile wider when you flash him an innocent look right after. You’re smaller and much more prone to be hurt, but you’ll still claw someone’s eyes out for him…yeah he’s never going to let you go.
Alastor isn’t very touchy but delights in invading others' personal space, so having an overly clingy partner would annoy him. You learn he appreciates acts of service more than anything else and is pleased to see what you do for him—keeping his room and Radio Tower tidy even if they’re usually clean and straightening out his bow tie if it’s crooked, bringing him raw meat after a long day of running errands, or even slipping into his room at night to sleep even if he’s wide awake himself just because you ‘miss him.’ It's all so trivial, small things you get used to doing, but meaningful to him nonetheless. He returns the favor in the best ways he can think of. Praise, gifts, making you cum until you can't think straight… You're such a sweetheart, and he can't help showing you bits of gratitude.
Tumblr media
Lucifer
Tumblr media
A sucker for the cliche type of love. Running into you while on a stroll, seeing how clumsy you can be right off the bat, and feeling obligated to help poor little you make Lucifer giddy. You don’t mainly get why he’s so infatuated with you at first sight, but having the attention of Hell's King is flattering. Your friendliness is what pulls the devil in like a magnet at first. He wonders how you ended up in Hell even though you’re lovely and genuine. He finds kinship with those out of place because he fell from heaven for the same reason. In his opinion, you stand out amongst other sinners by being less of one.
Confidence. Whatever vanity you have, Lucifer drowns in it. Your looks, talents, and impression on others…if it’s all done with a sense of pride, he can’t get enough of it. His drug is seeing the smug look on your face when you make him beg for attention. When you want something from him and know you’ll get it if you ask, that glint in your eye sends the devil spiraling to his knees. You don’t have to be obnoxious about it either; quiet as a mouse hanging onto his arm as he walks about, he’ll, with a slight smirk of delight on your face when people stare at you, stroke his ego more than anything else could. You’re his prize, and he’s glad you’re proud.
Curiosity. You are asking him questions, getting him to talk, or even rambling about what’s on your mind, which comforts Lucifer. It reminds him of his time in heaven, being able to express his thoughts to those who’d listen, and you tend to do the same, which excites the fallen angel. He enjoys explaining things to you, deconstructing complex concepts to see your bright eyes light up with wonder, and the oh-so-sweet smile you give him during long, in-depth conversations eases his heart. The pure excitement on your face when he shows or explains something new to you is contagious. You’re too cut to be left clueless.
Touchiness. Lucifer is very prone to clingy behavior and sees nothing wrong with that. He likes your attention on him. Physical touch is his favored love language, and sharing it with you comes naturally. You often sit in his lap, play with his hair, pet his wings, and cuddle. He can’t get enough of it. He shudders when you’re all over him, pining for a kiss he can’t resist giving to you and whining for another right after he gives in. His hands never wholly leave you, and yours always find a way to bring him in close again.
Creativity. He’s drawn in by those who have an eye for the arts. It doesn’t matter what your interest maybe if it’s a form of expression for you; Lucifer tends to admire it. He’ll go as far as researching facts about the subject/hobbies to impress you with his knowledge and actively participate in the activity. You don’t mind him joining in, happily spending time with him more often, and appreciative that he puts so much effort into learning about something you love to do.
Reliance. Not in the sense that you’re utterly helpless without him but more so that he likes to be needed even for the most minor things. Being unable to help or fulfill another’s wishes irks Lucifer. He embodies pride, and feeling useless damages him a lot more than other things. He’s very attentive and soft-spoken even when agitated with you, and he genuinely does his best to do anything you ask of him. Once you become his, the world (alive or dead) is yours for the taking. He hates it when you brush him off to do something on your own, so you’re bound to let him tag along with whatever you do to keep him busy. He doesn't intrude if it's too severe of a boundary for you, but he can't help but want to take care of you with the utmost diligence.
Brattiness/Sassiness. Lucifer can't understand why he's attracted to a sharp tongue and an even colder attitude (which only occurs when you're upset with him), but he loves every second of it. Sometimes hell does or says things on purpose to piss you off and get your focus back on him. Other times, if you're already in a sour mood, he’ll suggest you take that anger out on him. He's noticed a pattern of you using stress as an excuse for him to fuck your brains out, and he's not mad about it. If making you break down into tears underneath, thanking him for fucking the bitchiness right of you after the edge of another high slowly wears off helps you in any way….Lucifer won't hesitate to participate. He wants to see you happy, but he loves the minor spats of aggression you have, like every other sinner in his domain. Though, you don't get very cutthroat as much as the majority does.
Tumblr media
New filler posts because sometimes I have random ideas and need a break from writing a series. ❤️
595 notes · View notes
bambisworlds · 1 month ago
Text
there's a man in the woods (1)
Tumblr media
part two
(sorry for the long synopsis)
rhysand, azriel, and cassian were blessed by the cauldron with a mate. although, the circumstances were never seen before. the three males each had a mate, and it turned out to be the same female they were each bound to; bambi. they had spent months trying to track down the female that had been haunting their dreams and they finally did. she was tamlin's "mate". he had somehow discovered bambi was the rhysand's mate, so he took her as his own lover to spite him. tamlin still blamed rhysand for the death of his true mate, rhysand's sister. however, this plan to get back at rhysand was short lived seeing as the bat boys showed up and took her to the night court with them, leaving tamlin in their dust. pissed that he no longer had the upper hand, tamlin snuck into the night court and kidnapped bambi (1,917 word count)
content warnings, mdni 18+
f!reader, bambi!oc, little!reader, oc age regresses to 6 years old, ddlg dynamics, established relationship, poly!batboys x oc, caregiver!batboys, protective!batboys, azriel's pretty unhinged, friend!mor, protective!mor, amren being her usual self, use of "Daddy", kidnapping, violence, evil!tamlin (are we surprised), tamlin is a hot mess let's just be real, let me know if i forgot anything x (also if i misrepresent age regression or common aspects of ddlg relationships pls let me know, i'm still learning)
Tumblr media
Quickly after Bambi was brought to The Night Court she became the princess of the household. The Bat Boys were utterly obsessed with her, bending over backwards to please her or simply make her smile. But, naturally, when Bambi first arrived at the townhouse she was hesitant. She had been under the impression that Tamlin was her mate. However, she didn't love Tamlin like she thought she should. Something was missing. Turns out, the thing missing was a mating bond.
It took a handful of weeks for Bambi to come out of her shell around the Inner Circle. The first week consisted of her mainly being around Mor. The Bat Boys primal instincts were out of control, so Mor basically banned them to The House of Wind until they got their shit together so they wouldn't petrify Bambi.
It didn't take long for Mor to notice that there was something different about Bambi. From time to time she went quiet, and when she did speak her words lacked her usual sophisticated vocabulary. Then, after she grew more comfortable with Mor, Bambi would grow bolder, and more fussy, than usual during these spells. Mor confided in Madja as to what could explain her behavior, and she described it in medical terminology. But the common name was "little space". So, naturally, she reported this information to The Bat Boys.
Azriel spent 8 hours in the library after Mor informed him about Bambi's coping mechanism, wanting to learn everything he could so he could offer the support and care Bambi needed. After feeling satisfied with his newfound knowledge, he presented it to Rhysand and Cassian. Cassian struggled at first to grasp the concept, but with further education by Rhysand and Azriel, he understood why Bambi age regressed from time to time and wanted to support her the best way he could.
Now, after nearly a year together, The Bat Boys were experts on Bambi. They tended to her every need with unquestionable skill. They knew what she needed when she needed it without having to ask. They moved as one, taking care of her as a team.
But, the three males still had to attend to their responsibilities as High Lord, Commander of the Night Court's Armies, and as Spymaster. So, they couldn't be with Bambi 24/7. When they were busy, they assigned Mor to her. They tried having Amren look after Bambi, but it just resulted in Bambi coming home in tears because Amren made fun of her plushies and kept beating her at checkers (everyone else always let her win). From then on Bambi was always entrusted to Mor's care when they were unavailable.
Today was like any other day. Mor had taken Bambi to walk through the shops. Bambi wasn't feeling little today, but she was still easily distracted and forgetful so Mor accompanied her on her shopping trip. Plus, the entirety of the Inner Circle was overprotective of Bambi. Even Amren, at times. While Mor was finishing up paying for a new bracelet Bambi selected, Bambi wandered down a few stalls to look at pastries. She was about to flag Mor down to buy some when a large hand wrapped around her hand and began to drag her down the busy streets.
Mor searched the shopping stalls for hours in search of Bambi when she couldn't find Bambi's familiar blonde hair among the mass of people. After coming up empty-handed and beginning to panic, she returned to the townhouse to tell The Bat Boys.
"You. Did. What?" Cassian spits.
"How did you manage to lose her?" Rhysand demands, resting his hands on his hips. The moment Mor entered the townhouse without Bambi Azriel's shadows disappeared, already searching for her.
"She is quite small," Amren says from the chair she was in, filing her nails. Cassian scoffs at her lack of urgency.
"You know I would never let anything happen to her," Mor says, growing defensive, "I turned for 5 seconds and she... disappeared." Mor sighed, "I've searched every street in Velaris. She's not in The Night Court," she conceded. Mor looked over at Azriel warily, he was painfully quiet, "Az say something."
Azriel bristled, his hands curling into fists, "Do you have any idea how frightened she'll be when it gets dark outside?" he said lowly, glaring at Mor.
"She wouldn't just wander off like that," Cassian says, "She knows not to go anywhere without us. Besides, everyone in Velaris knows she's our mate. She could ask practically anyone for help and they would bring her to us."
"Then someone must've taken her," Azriel practically growls, his siphons glowing ominously.
"Who would do that? We're on good terms with all the Courts," Mor implored, "Besides..." she trails off. Azriel's eyes snap up to Mor's face before he begins to storm towards the front door of the townhouse.
"Azriel wait, we can't do anything rash," Rhysand tries to reason, winnowing in front of him to block his path, "If Tamlin has her we need to be careful, he's unstable and unpredictable. We can't just go blazing into his court without expecting resistance."
"I welcome resistance, Truthteller hasn't gotten dirty in a while," Azriel threatened, his tone deadly.
"I'm in full support of blazing in there. I'll cut his head off before he can do shit," Cassian says, cracking his knuckles.
Rhysand sighs and rubs his forehead in agitation, "It would be nice to not always be the only reasonable one here for once," he mutters to himself before looking back up at The Inner Circle, "Let me try to reach her first, so we can see what we're up against."
"You haven't tried to reach her yet?" Cassian demands, clearly angry that Rhysand hadn't tried to use his daemati abilities yet.
"I've been preoccupied trying to stop you from destroying another court," Rhysand seethes. "Just... give me a moment," Rhysand sighs and sits down on one of the plush sofas in the room. Amren continued to file her nails, glancing up at Rhysand with slight interest. Rhysand focused, his mind reaching out in search of Bambi's. He knew her signature like the back of his hand, usually, he could slip into her mind without a bit of effort, but today he couldn't, "She's far away," Rhysand mutters, shifting uncomfortably in the chair as he strains to reach out farther with his mind.
Azriel began to fidget as the minutes passed, the tick of the father clock breaking the silence. Cassian sat on the sofa opposite of Rhysand, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at The High Lord, trying to decipher if he had found something while Azriel began to pace like a caged animal. Mor remained in the entryway of the living area, biting her nails anxiously as she watched Rhysand.
"There," Rhysand whispers as he finally feels Bambi's familiar energy throughout the sea of minds he had shuffled through. Azriel stops pacing and turns to look at Rhysand, while Cassian perks up in his seat. "I found her," Rhysand says breathily, "Darling, can you hear me?" Rhysand speaks into Bambi's mind, separated by miles. One of the first things Rhysand taught Bambi was how to speak with him telepathically, in case they would need it for times like these. Plus, he enjoyed having access to her mind whenever he wanted.
"Daddy?" she answers, her voice faint and echoey. Rhysand smiles to himself at the sound of her voice. He could barely make out her words due to the distance between them, but that didn't make hearing her any less comforting.
"I need you to tell me where you are. Do you know where you are sweetheart?" Rhysand asks telepathically, his tone gentle. It was obvious to Rhysand that Bambi was in little space, likely due to the fear and anxiety of the situation she was in. Azriel, Cassian, and Mor stared at Rhysand, practically unblinking, as they waited for any new information.
"S'hard," she says, her voice small, echoing in his mind. Rhysand knew she struggled to use her daemati abilities more than usual when in little space. She lost focus easily and struggled to remember what Rhysand had taught her to do. Plus, it was taxing on the mind and could easily exhaust her.
"I know little one, but I need you to try really hard for Daddy so I can come get you," Rhysand said gently, "Now, can you tell me where you are?" A few moments passed and Rhysand waited anxiously.
"Tamlin," is all Bambi managed to slip into Rhysand's mind. That was all the confirmation he needed.
"Sit tight, Daddy's coming for you, okay? Azzy, Cass, and I will be there soon." Rhysand says before cutting off his connection with Bambi, but leaving a window open in his mind so she could reach him if she needed. "She's with Tamlin," Rhysand says firmly, rising from his seat abruptly.
"Is she alright?" Cassian demanded, rising to his feet as well.
"Not entirely. She's little right now, which will make it harder to get her home safely." Rhysand says, "But she knows we're coming. Hopefully, that will bring her comfort."
Across Prythian, Bambi was sitting timidly at Tamlin's dining table as he poured her a glass of wine. Rhysand's voice was bouncing around her mind, "I know little one, but I need you to try really hard for Daddy so I can come find you. Now, can you tell me where you are?"
"Isn't this nice? Us being back together again?" Tamlin asks as he pushes the goblet closer to Bambi. She didn't reach for it, "That's fine faerie wine, you can at least pretend to look grateful." he scoffs, taking a sip from his glass.
Bambi was too focused on using her daemati skills to register Tamlin's words, straining as she tried to respond to Rhysand mentally, "Tamlin," she managed to transfer the singular word into Rhysand's mind. She let out a heavy breath, sinking into her chair once she managed to do so. Tamlin set down his goblet on the table with a thud.
"Did you just tell Rhysand something?" he demands and Bambi looks down at her lap, "Hey!" he snaps, grabbing her chin so she makes eye contact with him, "What did you tell him?" Tamlin growls, "Tell me! What did you tell him!" Tamlin demands and Bambi flinches with a slight whimper.
"I-I told him where I am," she says shakily, looking up at Tamlin anxiously as she waits for his reaction.
"Fuck!" Tamlin bellows, throwing his goblet onto the ground, causing it to shatter. "Why can't one fucking thing ever go to plan!" he shouts, throwing a chair against the wall next. Bambi flinched with each loud noise, fidgeting with the fabric of her dress to try to focus on the smooth silk instead of the danger around her.
"Sit tight, Daddy's coming for you, okay? Azzy, Cass, and I will be there soon." Rhysand's voice echoes in Bambi's mind and she stills, glancing up at Tamlin. Tamlin panted, resting his hands on his hips as he finally stopped throwing things around.
He looked over at Bambi, noticing her gaze on him, "What?" he spits.
"You should run," Bambi says simply, before focusing back on the fabric of her dress. Tamlin bristled slightly from her words.
Moments later Lucien walked into the dining room, his good eye scanning over the mess around the room before landing on Bambi. Lucien sighs at the sight of her, looking over at Tamlin, "Have you gone mad?"
Tumblr media
if you have any requests including the people on my masterlist please comment them below or on my masterlist!! (check here: about my blog  to see what things i'm not comfortable with in regards to requests <3)
106 notes · View notes
fl3shm4id3n · 7 months ago
Text
ₐₜₜₑₙₜᵢₒₙ
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐤𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦?
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴊᴏɴᴀᴛʜᴀɴ ᴄʀᴀɴᴇ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴜʙᴜꜱ/ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
Tw: slight SMUT?, Mentions of murder/homicides, reader is a narcissists and delulu (delusional af), mentions of promiscuity, talks about sex, reader is self absorb, age gap (reader is early 20s and Jonathan is in his early 30s), toxic behavior, reader is a bit needy, making out, titty grabbing and groping.
A/N: I wanted to write something, based on Jennifer Check from Jennifer's Body.
Masterlist
Tumblr media
All that you regretted was not being careful enough, you had been caught. And out of all night, it just had to be prom night, you hated being seen the way that you did. Your dress all wet with blood, your hair was also wet and your makeup was a mess. When you saw the pictures on the news paper, you nearly lost it. All you wanted to do was scream by how bad you looked that night. The only good thing was that you looked hot in the orange jumpsuit given to you, the whole trial you were busy trying to look good and pretty for the cameras. You'd even smile and wave as if you were some kind of celebrity who just won an award and was loved by many. You weren't, but you loved to think that you did.
You were going to be an Arkham for a while, well until you were stable enough to go back out into the real world. You hated your stay. They didn't give you any kind of skincare or makeup that you could use. The only thing that was good was that you had your own room. Except that room looked like shit. You hated it, but it was better than dealing with a lunatic. Most days you'd be rotting in bed or looking at yourself in the small plastic mirror. Trying to make yourself look decent of some kind. You hated not having skincare of your makeup. One morning you had woken up, then discovered that you had a pimple on your cheek. You threw a fit, you screamed and even fought with the security guards because of your silly little outburst.
You didn't even know if you'd be able to stand being in Arkham for long. It's already been two whole years and you still haven't adjusted to that place for lunatics. You wanted to get out, but you couldn't. You couldn't bride anyone with smiles, eyelash flutters or even a kiss on the cheek. Nope, it would be much harder then you thought. When it came to doctors, you tried to bride them with a wink here or a complement there. But no, they'd get fed up with you and leave to tend to someone else. It frustrated you so much. One because those tricks would normally work on anyone. Mainly those dumb high school boys who really wanted attention from a hot girl. Except, you weren't in high school anymore. You were a whole adult and so was everyone in the nut house.
Tumblr media
That morning you simply laid in bed, staring endlessly at the ceiling while chewing on a piece of your hair. You were bored, not only that but you felt as if your skin was dry and flaky. You were having a bad morning, all you wanted to do was lay in bed and simply rot. While you continued mindlessly staring at the ceiling, you heard your door open. Sitting up, you saw that it was one of the guards. Great, another doctor. Hopefully this one is easy to crack.
You got up, then followed the guard into the room where you were left alone with the doctor. They told you to sit down and wait, as you waited. You couldn't help but bitch and whine to yourself about looking like crap. "Ugh, if I could at least have my gold hoop earrings." You whined, while throwing your head back as you slumped onto the chair. After a few minutes. You heard the door open, you didn't brother looking over until you saw a man standing in front of you. "You must be miss L/N." He said, his voice sounded, soothing and almost relaxed. Looking up, you saw who this new doctor was.
You were taken by surprise due to how cute he was. He looked no older than late twenties or early thirties maybe. He has brown hair, pale skin, peachy plumped lips and those eyes. God, those eyes were the most beautiful thing ever, almost as beautiful as you. He looked just like those boy magazines that you'd often stare at and have day dreams about bring with those boys. "And who am I pleasured to meet?" You asked, while sitting up straight, even fixed your hair a bit. "I'm Jonathan Crane, but you can call me Doctor Crane." he responded, with a neutral look and voice. You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip and ogle at him, like a teenage girl, that you still wished you were.
"Do you know why am here?" Jonathan asked, while studying your body language. Seen how you must have been smitten by him. It was an obvious observation. "Because you wanted to see the one and only, Y/n L/n?" You teased, while you giggle. All he did was look at you, seen how you were just being a tease. "Just kidding, you came to see what was wrong with me, but don't worry. There's nothing wrong with me, but I'll let you check me up." You said, with a smile and wink. Jonathan just sighed, he almost couldn't believe how shameless you were. "So, your file says that you have been convicted of a few homicides involving boys." He explained, reminding you on why you were here in the first place.
"That was a long time ago, it doesn't even matter anymore." You said, almost getting annoyed but kept your composure. "Tell me about yourself, you must be interesting." You said, while leaning against the table a bit, giving him somewhat of a view of your chest. You were glad that the orange shirt of your prison jumpsuit was somewhat big enough to give a peak at your chest. "How about, we talk about you instead. I'm here to talk to you and about you." Jonathan said, making you blush like a school girl. Were you dreaming or something? "About me? What of me?" You asked him, while looking at him. Admiring how handsome he was. How well put together he is. You just wanted to run your fingers through his hair, maybe even take his glasses and try them on just for shits and giggle. You felt as if you had fallen in love with him on the spot.
"Dunno, I'll let you decide." He said, god he was such a gentleman. "I don't know..." you said, not sure what to say or do, but then you got an idea. You quickly changed your demeaner, you went from being flirtatious to a bit sad. "It's just, been so lonely." You moaned, almost seductively. But he didn't budge. "How so?" He asked, while studying your body language. "You know, no big, strong, handsome man to protect me." You said, while looking at him directly in his eyes. You had a small pout on your lips. Trying to seem and sound as innocent and seductive as possible. "I'm sure security is doing that." He said, damn it! He wasn't falling for it.
You sighed, but kept up your act. "I know, but... You know what I mean. I want someone to love and protect me. You know, how a husband protects his wife?" You asked him, while moving both your arms on both sides of your breasts and slightly pushed them together. Making them more visible for him to see. But you noticed how he wasn't even trying to look at your chest. He just looked at your face. Then you thought of something, slowly. You scooted a bit closer to the table, then your right arm reached over and held it out for his hand to take. "Can you lend me a hand?" You asked sweetly while tilting your head to the side. Jonathan hesitated, but he reached out and allowed you to get a hold of his hand.
You took his hand and slowly guided it towards your chest, but you placed his hand on where your heart was. His huge palm could feel the plushy and softness of your breast. You somewhat wished that he'd give it a small and light squeeze. "Feel my heart Doctor Crane... I think it's broken." You nearly said in a whisper. Seductively. Even with his hand on your breast he didn't seem to budge, he just looked at your face and nothing else. After some time, he removed his hand off your breast and checked the time on his watch. "Well, our time is up." That's all he said, you felt disappointed. You weren't used to that kind rejection, your previous doctors would of cummed right in their pants, him? He was going to be a challenge and you weren't going to give up easily.
Tumblr media
Almost a whole month has passed and still, nothing. Doctor Crane was a hard nut to crack. Not only that, but your so called supernatural powers didn't show up. To this day, you still aren't really able to explain how you got them. Ever since that night that you had been killed by those guys who claimed to be a band, you've been behaving and acting strange. Were your powers weak? Or did they go away? The reason why you were powerful a two years back, was because you fed off the attention you were given by everyone, specially the boys. In here, anyone barely even looked at you. It made you feel weak and drained. Maybe that's what it was, the lack of attention is what's making you feel that way. You hated it.
The only one who fed you attention was Doctor Crane, after your sessions. You'd have that energy, you felt much fresher than before. That's what made you love him even more. Despite his coldness, he gave you that energy that you so needed. Your previous doctors didn't do that, since they only see you once and after you played your little game they'd leave because they couldn't stand you. Ever since Doctor Crane into your life, you couldn't help but fall for him. Was it really love? You weren't so sure or bothered trying to find an answer to your question. You just loved how he'd give you attention, even if it'd irritate the hell out of him. He stayed. Probably to study you some more, but you didn't mind being studied by him. As long as he feeds you the attention you've craved for the last two years, you didn't care.
That day, you didn't see the doctor. Since he was other stuff to do. It'd been a whole week since you've seen him. He'd come every day, until now. He just hasn't showed up at all. It made you sad and made you feel even more tired and drained. His attention was something that you've got addicted too. You wanted it, you had to have it. But you couldn't, it wouldn't be easy. You felt your skin get flaky and dry, like a snake's. You began to see that you were getting dark circles under eyes. Because of how tired you've got. God, you missed him so much. You've began to have dreams of you and him, married, living together. You didn't understand why, you didn't have dreams of that sort, ever.
It was already late at night, you laid in bed. Alone in the dark, still feeling like shit. You were laying on your side, facing the wall. Thinking about Doctor Jonathan Crane. You simply stared at the wall, seen how you had managed to engrave his name onto that old concrete wall. Since the day he didn't show up, was when you craved his name into the wall. Just so that you could stare and look at the name, sometimes even caress it as if it was the most delicate thing. Eventually you closed your eyes, trying to maybe get some sleep, and dream about him.
But your eyes quickly shot open when you heard the door of your room open. You quickly sat up and turned around to see who or what it was. It was somewhat dark, but the small window of your cell allowed you to see who it was. It was him, Jonathan. He stood there looking back at you for a whole minute. You didn't even notice him closing the door, your name focus was him. "Jonathan?" You said, almost in disbelief. "The one and only." He said, his voice made your chest rise and your heartbeat go over the roof. Not only that, but you also felt how your skin began to feel fresh, as if cold water had been splashed onto your dry skin. Making it feel refreshed.
"Oh Johnny." You said, quickly getting up from your bed and ran up to him. He wasn't far away from you, since your room was small. Almost as small as your old walk in closet. Once you reached him, you wrapped your arms around his waist. Hugging him tightly. "I missed you, so much." You said, while hugging him. You couldn't help but get a whiff of his washed clothed mixed with his cologne. You missed that scent, his scent. You felt how he too wrapped one arm around your waist and petted your hair. "I know you did." He said, neutrally, but it sounded sweet to you. He was sweet to you in his way. You didn't want to let go or him to let you go. You wanted to be in his arms forever until you both die and rot.
Then he slowly pulled away from you, looking down at your face. But you kept your arms around his waist, so that he couldn't go just yet or even attempted to leave. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to see you." Jonathan said, while gently caressing your cheek. Making you purr and close your eyes by the touch of his hand on your now fresh and bright skin. "Where did you go? Why did you leave me here alone?" you asked, almost desperate to know his reasons why you disappeared for a whole week. "I had other things to tend to." He said, while looking at you. Seen how week and vulnerable you were at the moment. "Doesn't matter anymore, at least you came here. To see me." You said, with a small smile on your lips. Happy to be this close to him. This was the first time you've ever been this close to him.
"Can I ask you something?" You asked, almost timidly, but you just had to ask him. "Of course, what is it?" He asked, while looking at you. His eyes, damn those eyes. They made your legs shake and nearly go week. "Could I kiss you?" you asked, while beginning to breath heavily. All of a sudden you got, you felt your skin heat up and needed to remove some clothes just to calm the heat down. Jonathan smiled at you. Sweetly, but that sweetness had a small hint of sinisterism. "Of course you can." He said, without hesitating. You smashed your lips against his.
Jonathan let out a small grunt as soon as your lips touched his. Your arms snaked around his neck, desperately trying to get him to be closer to you than he already was. Jonathan held you close to him as well. The kiss got slightly violent and more sloppy. Both your tongued wrestled one another's, followed by teeth clanking against one another and your lips pressed against his. You needed that, you wanted that. Jonathan's hands grabbed at your ass, giving it a squeeze every now and then, as a way of getting you either railed up or just flat out tease you. Soon after, you felt his hand get a hold of one of your breasts. Causing you to moan against his mouth.
His palm caress and gripped onto your breast, slightly pinching your harden nipple. "Ah!" You moaned against his mouth, feeling how your once weak body was burning with desire. You wanted more, you needed more. As soon as your hands reached down to get a hold of his belt. Jonathan stopped grabbing your breast and pull away from the sloppy kiss. "Wha-" You manage to say. You looked at him, shocked and breathless by his sudden motion. "Now now." He simply said, while he admired how worked up you were. "But-" You were quickly cut off by him. "Shh, shh." He shushed you. In which you. You could feel how his cold hand gently got a hold of your chin and cheeks, as soon as his cold skin touched the hot skin of your cheeks. You felt relaxed.
"Patience. You're not ready yet." He said, making you let out a small whine. "But I am." You whined, you sounded so needy, but you didn't care. You wanted him right there and then. "You think you're ready, but you're not. Be patient." He said said, almost in a whisper. So that only you could hear. You wanted to protest, but you didn't. You choose to listen again. You simply nodded in response. "Alright, Doctor." You said, almost in a form of a moan. Jonathan smirked at you, gently cleaning off yours and his mixed saliva off your bottom lip with his thumb. "Good girl." He praised, making you nearly fell at your knees by his words.
Tumblr media
ₙₑₓₜ ₚₐᵣₜ
148 notes · View notes
mieczyslawsravenclaw · 7 months ago
Text
Behavioral Tactics - Spencer Reid & Stiles Stilinski
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
•Pairing - Spencer Reid x Reader x Stiles Stilinski
•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!
•Summary/Prompt - Someoneʼs fantasies about having Spencer Reid & Stiles Stilinski at the same time (Why choose, right?) are about to come true, after a little bit of wine and a lot of flirting.
•Warnings/Content - piv unprotected (DONT DO THIS KIDS - AND WITH 2 DIFF DUDES JUST LET IT BE FANTASY AND BE HORNY IN YOUR BRAIN HOLES OKAY) ; A-Z all bases covered bc Iʼm one horny bish ; Reader- focused 3-some if that wasnʼt evident ; Spencer and Stiles are HOT SO JUST BE WARNED OKAY ; Mentions of alcohol, some lil bits of bondage and such thingies, SO MUCH PRAISE, petnames and such IʼM SORRY IʼM CHEESY OKAY
•Word Count - 3.5k
•Authorʼs Note(s) - Yaʼll this is just PURE self indulgence at this point, so if anyoneʼs also into it, cool cool cool - I pretty much imagine reader to be Stiles' age and they're in their mid-to-late 20's with Spence around 16 years their senior but you can imagine it however you want! // ALSO TYSM FOR ALL THE NOTES ON MY FIRST FEW WRITING BLURBS OMF YAʼLL MAKE MY DAY I SWEARRRRR
•Additional Tags - Switch!Reader but mostly Sub!Reader, Switch!Spencer, Dom!Stiles, Slightly Tipsy Wine Night Turns Into PURE FILTH, Consent AS ALWAYS Is Important, Brat!Reader fr fr, Boys Whimpering I JUST 🤌🏻
Spencer wasnʼt usually one to drink, but this was a special occasion, he says - the three of us werenʼt able to see one another often, and so a second half-empty wine glass was currently in his hand, in danger of being spilled as Stiles finishes his story and makes the older man laugh so hard his face goes red.
“You told him you would what?ˮ He crows, eyebrows raised.
“I said it once, Iʼm not saying it again.ˮ Stiles shakes his head, reaching for the wine bottle Iʼve currently got clutched to my side. “Hey, refill me, why donʼt you?ˮ
I shake my head; Iʼm feeling fuzzy and light, and enjoying the game of keep-away far too much at the moment to let it go. The idea of them having to wrestle it away from me gives me a funny feeling in my stomach, but I ignore it.
Or so Iʼd thought. Because the moment the idea crosses my mind, their eyes catch it. Micro-expressions. I knew the term well from many late-night conversations with my two close friends, as they were both FBI agents, one specifically focused on analyzing behavior. How had I expected to hide this from them? It was only a matter of time until-
“Sheʼs doing it again.ˮ
“Huh? Iʼm doing…what? Iʼm not doing anything.ˮ
“Dilated pupils,ˮ Spencer notes, as if heʼs diagnosing something clinical. “Reddened skin. Iʼd stand to wager…elevated heart rate, as well?ˮ
Getting up from their shared couch, Stiles reaches for the wine, but instead, his hand brushes my neck with a careful look in his eye. Iʼm fixated, unable to move or speak, or really even breathe, to think of it.
“Youʼre right on the money, Reid.ˮ He nods, his fingers at my pulse point. My skin is burning at the sudden intimacy.
“Whatʼre you guys going on about?ˮ
“Still playing innocent?ˮ Stiles chuckles, backing up. I let out a heavy breath, half- caught in my throat over a newly forming lump.
“I have no idea what…ˮ
“Weʼre talking about?ˮ Spencer finishes, licking his lips and leaning forward. “Oh, but I think you do. Donʼt you agree, Stiles?ˮ
Stiles nods, not even looking at him. Theyʼre both hyper-focused on me, and the attention feels both fantastic and utterly unbearable at the same time.
“Every time weʼve gotten together, the three of us,ˮ Stiles continues, reaching out a hand and beckoning me forward. They shuffle apart, making a space between the two where Iʼd fit…if I wanted. “Itʼs undeniable. The looks you give.ˮ
My heart is in my throat, eyeing the space that Spencerʼs now patting. I set the bottle aside, the game utterly forgotten.
“I-ˮ
“Did we misread?ˮ He raises an eyebrow, setting down his glass. “Iʼd thought for sure you were thinking of us all…together.ˮ
The sip of wine Iʼd been taking that turned more into a chug comes back up into my glass. I cough, pushing it away. Stiles takes it, making sure Iʼm alright before continuing Spencerʼs thought.
“Sweetheart, if weʼre making you uncomfortable-ˮ
“No, not at all.ˮ I blurt, looking back and forth between them. Spencer, with his hair slicked back and slightly disheveled, who Iʼve thought of time and time again but never had the courage to do anything about besides call out his name in my late nights alone with myself; Stiles, my best friend, my confidante…one of the most attractive men Iʼve ever known. The whirlwind of explicit mind pictures involving him goes back a long, long time. Yes, Iʼve thought about it. Dreamt of it. But for it to actually happen, to no longer just be a fantasy, was never something Iʼd anticipated.
“I told you,ˮ Spencer smirks, not at all cocky - just knowing he was right.
I flush. “You guys talk about me alot, huh?ˮ
"About us, sometimes.ˮ Stiles nods, still eyeing me and beckoning me to sit. “Look, really, if you arenʼt into the idea, Iʼll back off. Weʼll back off,ˮ He amends, a short glance to his side. “But honestly, itʼs been a long time coming, hasnʼt it? You and us.ˮ
His words are divine, luring me in. Iʼm taking his hand before my mind can catch up, and sitting in the space between them. The heat from their bodies is only a further spur into this dangerous new game weʼre playing, now.
“I think…youʼre okay with it, arenʼt you?ˮ Spencer murmurs, gentle but teasing. He brushes my hair from my neck, leaning closer.
“Youʼre drunk,ˮ I let out a nervous laugh, shivering at his touch. Stiles is mirroring him on my left, although heʼs a bit more brazen, closer to me, his lips at my ear.
“Not even close,ˮ He chuckles, breath tickling my skin. “A glass or two isnʼt nearly enough to get me drunk. How about you, Spence?ˮ
“Nope.ˮ
“Well, I-ˮ My eyes flutter shut when Stilesʼ kiss hits my neck, brain going fuzzy. Oh, my god, what?
“Are you?ˮ Spencer goads, his hand resting on my thigh. “Iʼve certainly seen you drunk off of at least twice what youʼve had tonight, and from that point of reference, Iʼm going to say youʼre more in the buzzed-to-tipsy range.ˮ
“Just say no, I mean it,ˮ Stiles pulls back, his voice a husky whisper. “Consentʼs more important, Iʼll just take care of business myself, if I gotta.ˮ
“Iʼm fairly sober,ˮ I admit, looking at him. Gods, I want to kiss him. I want to kiss them both. “And Iʼm okay with it if you are. If…you both are?ˮ
“Okay with it?ˮ Spencer laughs. I catch the edge of his grin out of the corner of my eye, unsure who to focus on.
“I want it.ˮ I swallow, ready and willing to admit to every brazen thought Iʼd ever had. The temptation is much too strong, the lull of their voices and hands and lips and eyes and… Oh, good heavens, here we fucking go.
“Thatʼs evident in your behavior,ˮ Spence teases, hand slowly inching up my leg. “Do you want to lead, or be lead?ˮ
Not one to wait on me to respond, Stiles is back at my neck, and Iʼm finding it hard to speak. Rather than attempt words at this point, I tug at Spencerʼs collar, eyes on his lips.
His gaze, heavy-lidded and lust blown, drinks in my desperation for but a moment, then heʼs kissing me - and what a feeling it is, to have their attention centered on me. All at once, distracting and overwhelming, yet I canʼt get enough. Spencer kisses like he needs air and Iʼm oxygen, devouring me to the point Iʼm almost being pushed into Stilesʼ lap.
“Hey, there,ˮ Sti chuckles, gripping me tighter the moment Spencer backs off. “My turn?ˮ
I nod, more nervous about this than even Spencer had made me. Something about Stiles has always just…gotten to me, that way. And now is certainly no exception, with him pulling me into his lap and pulling my face down to his own.
Kissing Stiles is much different than kissing Spencer; Where Spence is hungry, Stiles is almost animalistic, despite being entirely and simply human - he makes up for it in the passion he brings, deep and hot and breathy kisses that make my head spin.
“We should- uh, my room?ˮ I mumble against him, reaching for a hand from either one of them. They both take me up on it, and let me lead them up the stairs. I can feel their bemusement coming off of them in waves, sprinkled into the desire that has them so warm Iʼm already sweating in my minimal clothes.
Once the doorʼs shut behind us, and Iʼm sat on my bed, their gazes have mefeeling so indescribably small.
“So eager, sweet girl.ˮ Stiles cooes.
“Look at you, weʼve barely touched you and youʼre already squirming.ˮ Spencer smirks, slowly undoing his belt without breaking eye contact. “Think you can be patient for us?ˮ
My eyes flick between them, one locking the door while the other, taller one is approaching me; I instinctively reach for him, but Spence tuts, pushing me back.
“Guess not,ˮ He chuckles, motioning for me to move back towards the headboard. I have a sinking feeling I know exactly where heʼs going with this, and I whine in protest as Iʼm proved right - wrists pinned above my head, secured with the very belt that had just been around his hips.
“Youʼre gonna be trouble, arenʼt you?ˮ
“Of course she is,ˮ Stiles laughs, coming to sit on the bed with us. They both gaze at me, helpless as I am, with the utmost mix of adoration and desire. I had expected to feel enjoyment from this, but safety? Oh, itʼs the cherry on top of a very delicious cake.
“No, Iʼll be good - I swear."
“Of course you will, sweetheart.ˮ Spencer tips my chin up to him as he climbs on top of me. It kills me that I canʼt reach up and touch him, and with that little smirk spreading across his face, he knows. Between him leaning down to kiss me again, and the gentle but firm hands of Stiles snaking up my thighs, Iʼm breathless and pleading.
“Please, please, just-ˮ
Spencerʼs lips cut me off, and I let myself get lost in the haze of him for a moment, just a moment. My attention snaps back into focus when I feel my shorts being tugged down my thighs.
“You two…ʼtryna kill me.ˮ I moan, and I can feel Spencer smile against me.
“Actually, the likelihood of dying due to any type of sexual arousal or intercourse is fairly minimal, so youʼre likely in the clear.ˮ He quips.
“If I could roll my eyes-ˮ
“Oh, weʼll give you something to roll your eyes back for.ˮ Stilesʼ voice comes from right above my heat, and I shudder, bucking up to try to grasp any sort of friction.
“Calm down, pretty girl.ˮ Spencer chides, his hand gripping my jaw and bringing me deeper into the kiss. I sigh, giving in, and simply allow his kisses on my lips, my neck, and Stilesʼ slow and agonizing undressing of my lower half.
He lets out a low noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan, once my panties are discarded. “Youʼre a fuckinʼ mess, princess. Is that all for us?ˮ
Itʼs all I can do to let out an approving whine, a not so subtle begging for something, anything to break this coil built up in my belly. My arms are starting to hurt from the amount of tugging Iʼve been doing to try to get free, but I can barely even feel it. I just need them, both of them, so badly.
“Cʼmere, get a look at her.ˮ Stiles pulls Spencer back, and he pouts a moment before focusing on me - well, the lower half of me.
“Fuck.ˮ Spencer groans, rubbing his chin with a slack-open mouth. “You werenʼt kidding. Pretty girl, youʼre wet.ˮ
“Are you gonna do anything about it?ˮ My tone is desperate, but entirely bratty. The looks I get from the pair of them tells me Iʼm gonna pay for that.
“We could just leave you there and take care of ourselves.ˮ Spencer snaps back, but I can see in his eyes thatʼs the last thing he wants. I donʼt have to be a profiler to know how badly he wants to be inside me right now.
“Or we could do it together,ˮ Stiles adds, watching my reaction. “Oh, you would like that a little too much, though, wouldnʼt you? Does that get you off, sweet girl?ˮ
I nod. “Okay, Iʼll behave, just please, touch me or something?ˮ
“Sheʼs so pretty when sheʼs desperate for us, isnʼt she?ˮ Stiles smirks, leaning over me tauntingly. One hand traces lightly over my thigh, ever so gently. Spencer sits right on the other side of me, his grasp a bit more firm, a lot closer to where Iwant them to be.
“Aw, I think she deserves at least a little something.ˮ Spencer cooes, bringing his free hand to his mouth. I watch in awe as he sticks his fingers in and brings them out with a pop, so sure of himself as he brings them to my folds. Gentle but swift, he inserts one, then two fingers, once he hears the noise of relief I let out.
“S-Spence-ˮ
“There you go, beautiful. Just needed someone to touch you, huh?ˮ
The long, practiced fingers of Spencer Reid send my mind into a tailspin; Unable to think of anything other than the sheer pleasure and joy of knowing this is actually happening, I canʼt bring myself to feel any sort of self-consciousness - I only know the sweet nothings they whisper, and once Iʼve hit my limit and cried out for Spencer, how they trade off and now itʼs Stilesʼ turn to learn my body.
Somehow, though his touch is different, itʼs equally as pleasant, from the tugs he makes against my sweet spot to the thumb rubbing circles against my throbbing clit. Only when Iʼve came for him, as well, does Spencer gently push him aside, positioning himself between my folds with a hungry groan.
Stiles climbs up to kiss me, and Spencerʼs kiss…is somewhere else entirely. Iʼm mewling against the lips that suck on mine, bucking up despite myself into Spencerʼs face. He takes it well, only gripping my thighs harder and pressing his tongue deeper into my core. I can feel myself leaking onto his chin, and like a man starved, he eats with a deepseated hunger and noises that make my stomach twist. Mumbles and groans of ‘you taste so goodʼ push me over the edge once, twice, I lose count.
When itʼs time for the expected switching, Iʼm aching to feel something more, and it seems Spencer can sense this; while he climbs up to kiss me, he also sets to releasing my binds.
“Wanna know a little secret of mine?ˮ He whispers, voice low in my ear. “Iʼd like to see you take a little bit of your control back…just a bit.ˮ
The release I give into Stilesʼ mouth as I kiss Spencer, now that Iʼm free to do whatever I please with my hands, is monumental. Iʼm tearing at Spenceʼs clothes, and he responds with pulling my shirt over my head, his mouth latching onto my breasts. I cry out, more than ready for everything this will give me. It doesnʼt take long for the three of us to get undressed, heat of the moment as it is.
“Please-please-ˮ
“Thereʼs no need to whine, love.ˮ Spencer murmurs, tracing down a pattern from my lips to my chest. “What do you need? Use your words.ˮ
“Someone needs to be inside me, and now.ˮ
This earns a chuckle from the both of them.
“Are we flipping a coin?ˮ Stiles quips, sidling up behind me as Spence rolls off to my front.
“Statistically speaking, it is the most-mmm-ˮ His voice lilts as I reach for him, eyes fluttering when I stroke. “Now thatʼs not…fair.ˮ
Stiles reaches over across my hip, circling my clit. “Behave, princess.ˮ
I rut back against him, earning a low moan.
“Someone. Either. Both?ˮ
“Now that sounds difficult to…position-ˮ Spence grunts.
Stiles takes the opportunity of my distraction to shift me a bit, pressing his tip to my folds. One rut forward and heʼs swiftly entered, making my hand and voice stutter against Spence. “Good girl,ˮ Stiles cooes, brushing my hair off of my neck and kissing at it as he works to find a pace inside me. “Good girl.ˮ
I whine - really, thereʼs no other word for it - and do my best to continue pleasuring Spencer, but the overstimulation of it all makes my brain go numb. Heʼs helpful, though, fucking up into my hand and echoing Stilesʼ praises with gentle and passionate kisses to my lips, my chest, my jaw. When Sti rolls me over, pulling out and climbing onto me before getting back to it, Spencer backs up and eyes us with utterly delicious lust, his hand pumping slow and hard against himself.
The noises filling my room are lewd, downright nasty, but the feelings are just so good, I canʼt bring myself to feel anything but disgusting pleasure from it all. Have we been here for hours now? Days? It feels like itʼs been forever and yet no time at all. The scratches Iʼve left down Stilesʼ back wonʼt be going anywhere for likely just as long. When the beautiful man wants to use my mouth, Iʼm ready and willing, and take his load without blinking. I doubt Iʼll ever get over the sight of him letting go and howling my name, either.
“There you go…did sʼgood for me.ˮ He praises, wiping the stray trail from my lips as he backs up, a sweet kiss to my cheek as well. “Spence?ˮ
“Only if sheʼs up for it,ˮ Spencer approaches slowly, eyeing me carefully. “How about it, pretty girl?ˮ
I nod fervently, and he likely would have laughed if he wasnʼt so overtaken. I reach out to pull him onto me, but he lifts me up and mumbles something about it ‘being my turn to be on topʼ. Hesitantly, I adjust myself until Iʼm hovering over him. Something about those eyes on me has my heart thudding so hard Iʼd almost think heʼd hear it; The noise that rips from me when I sit down onto him is almost criminal.
“Youʼre in control,ˮ He tells me, hands on my hips as but a guide to rock me back and forth. “Do what you will with me.ˮ
I set to making a pace with him, and to my enjoyment, Spencer is a whimperer when I do it just right. “You feel… fuck, you feel so good on me, baby. Better than I ever imagined, my mind canʼt even do you justice, and thatʼs… saying something, oh my god-ˮ
“Sweet talker,ˮ I coo, grinding against him just to get more of those wonderful whimpers. “Youʼre gonna make me… Spence-ˮ
“Please, cum all over me, youʼve earned it, havenʼt you? Been so fucking good for me.ˮ
“I-I need-ˮ The words wonʼt escape, so I simply show him, bringing his hands to my breasts and motioning, pull.
Heʼs a diligent submissive for the moment, doing as I ask. And the waves crash over me and out of me and onto him with such intensity I almost lose vision. More, I want more, and Iʼm begging for it so much that he canʼt say no, rubbing a pattern on my pounding clit until Iʼm seeing stars.
“Doing okay, baby?ˮ
“I could take you two…all night.ˮ I moan. The energy to do so may put me in a coma, but…
“I wanna cum in you,ˮ He grips my chin, forcing me to look straight into his eyes. “Can I? Is that okay?ˮ
"Yes, so very okay.ˮ
As Spencer chases his high, heʼs sloppier and thrusting up into me with the loudest noises of the night from him, and again I lose count of the edges he sends me over; A sweet melody, him calling out to me as he topples over his edge and comes down, both of us running down the space where we meet. I collapse onto his chest, and he strokes my hair, soft and sweet praises and kisses a stark contrast to the dirty things weʼd all done together tonight.
A strange noise rips from the edge of the bed, and we turn to look and see Stiles, completely passed out and snoring.
“Is he…?ˮ
“He is.ˮ
We laugh, careful not to wake the poor boy as Spencer gets to work cleaning me up. Once heʼs done so, I tug Stiles up into bed with us, relishing in them holding me on either side.
“Mmmm…sleepy.ˮ He groans, snuggling into me. “That was fuckinʼ something.ˮ
“Very much something.ˮ Spencer agrees, smirking on the other side of me.
“Something we should do again sometime?ˮ
“Yes!ˮ Stiles whines. “Just…lemme sleep more first, and Iʼm ready…tʼgo…ˮ
Spencer and I laugh again, and itʼs clearly a unanimous decision - this will happen again. And thank the gods, because I certainly havenʼt gotten enough of them just yet.
128 notes · View notes
lotus-pear · 8 months ago
Note
Can we stop acting like dazai was the devil. Like yes he did bad things but he was a child. He was 15 alone and in the mafia where althe was told to do was bad things. ALL dazai knew how to do is lie and deceive because it what he's always had to do.it's self preservation. Like??? When will people realize dazai wasn't a monster and was justa child brought up in an Unsafe and abusive environment. Behaviors are learned your aren't born with them. Dazai was a suicidal child just trying to survive all'he knew was manipulation and Iying because that's all he was taught. He abused akutagawa because that's all he was taught. And as he got older it's all he knows how to do. Obviously he's gotten better but he's still morally grey. And that's ok but it's not enough to call him a monster. hes trying so so hard to change, and even if he may not realise it or cling guiltily to his past, the entire prison arc shows how much effort hes put in to become a better person it isnt easy, growing up exposed to death/violence resulting in empathy and apathy issues, all while battling an emptiness inside thats slowly eating up ones will to live. hes genuinely trying to recover from that period of his life, and i cannot express how proud i am solely because of that. hes finally found a healthy environment, a family, and he deserves it along with so much more. he may be deemed as a “monster“ in the past, that cannot be erased, but he hates that part about himself too. being in the good or bad used to make no difference to him, but i strongly believe it does hate that part of him.  Dazai slander are fún and everything - BUT people seem to not get his character right. No, he's not an edgy boy. He genuinely wants to change for the best to make Oda proud, 'BUT HE ABUSED AKUTAGAWA’ , yeah, Akutagawa abused Kyoka and nobody is talking about how its litterally GENERATIONAL TRAUMA. Dazal was never raised correctly, he got raised by Mori and used by him to make him his right hand, maybe because of his ability, or he saw potential in him. He never fell parental Love nor being special to Someone except for Oda. "He LEFT Chuuya!!!“ ok and? Chuuya doesn't need him to live: Dazai LITTERALLY SAW PEOPLE GETTING KILLED/KILLING THEM ON THE DAILEY (AND HE WITNISSED ODAS DEATH - THE ONLY PERSON THAT MADE HIM WANT TO CHANGE.) his eyes at the age of 14, and Mori made him live in a shipping container. Obviously he is not gonna feel human after all this.
And about him and chuuya - the thing is they DO CARE ABOUT EACHOTHER. but nobody seems to care about chuuya other than the fact hes hot asf anf the fact that he is ’super mega gay for dazai 🥺🥺🥺’ because are we reading/watching the same series???? There’s SO MUCH to his character too!!!! But all everyone talks about with him is with dazai, chuuyas character is CRAZY WELL WRITTEN and everyone dumbs it down to ‘he’s an angry short boy with a god inside him and he’s mega gay for dazai and he’s also really hot’ like no - stfu he’s not actually super hot headed and it’s CANNON he’s usually pretty calm and collected. On the other side of the coin is that dazai DOES care about him - in Stormbringer ; Dazai literally willing gave Chuuya an option to either use corruption on Verlaine when he used his true form or to retreat and not do it, which gave a sense of Dazai giving Chuuya the choice to do what he wants without forcing him to, and the fact that when Chuuya used corruption, he was being injured badly to the point where Abahabaki was going to destroy Chuuya which FREAKED DAZAI OUT , and the fact that Dazai certainly believes that Chuuya is human shows that Dazai does care about Chuuya in certain ways without showing due to afraid of losing someone he cares about. and In age 15 Dazai, was willing to help Chuuya to find Abahabaki and defeat Rimbaud, along with stormbringer with him helping Chuuya to find out if he's human or not and to defeat Verlaine.
Ty for reading my rant 💞💞💞💞
i can't tell if this is attacking me or just a rant in general but anyway YESSSSS I 100% AGREE YOU ATE W THAT ANALYSIS BRIAR‼️‼️
135 notes · View notes
11queensupreme11 · 3 months ago
Note
“Brother,” Poseidon turned to him, and gods—Hades couldn’t believe this—his eyes were still glittering. “I… must thank you.” “...Thank me?” He barely uttered out. He nodded. “Yes. When Percilla was born, I initially wanted nothing to do with her, but I knew I had no choice but to raise her. I fathered her heartlessly, but it was you who stuck around and made sure I cared for her well. You protected her from my rage and you taught me that I needed to act as a proper father for her and love her as my daughter. If it wasn’t for your insistence—as annoying as it was—I might not have given Percy a chance. I would not have realized how wonderful of a child she is, and how lucky I am that the bifrost has blessed me with her.” This was probably the most words he had ever heard his usually apathetic brother ever speak in one go and all Hades could feel was despair. Poseidon was in love for the first time ever and while Hades would’ve happily celebrated this never-before-seen occasion, he had to fall in love with Percy of all people—the very girl Hades wished to marry. And now he couldn’t.
*CLOWN MUSIC*
Sorry, I'm re-reading cause I miss a few (a lot) updates, and, when I read this…
Gold comedy, clown-to-clown conversation.
(I'm about to excuse my behavior, but I'm letting everything in one ask, so if it's dirty, well, I'm the kind of lector you were (hopefully) waiting and here we don't kink shame)
Anyway, cause I'm a basic bitch, I'm going to do my usual review, no new memories here.
Chapter 33
I'm going to say, that Percy being trained to accept Poseidon's love is hot from you, I can see her falling to control herself (that said, can we applaud her control? My girl, that man is GORGEOUS and he's almost in his knees (to lick) trying to convince you to ride that)
(uncontrolled laugh Poseidon's balls are a particularly pretty shadow of blue) (Please have mercy queen. To him or us, I'm not made for a slow burn, I like things fast, and I have 0 patience and less auto control)
(Do you think Annubis can smell Aphrodite is near cause she always smells like rough sex? almost like an orgy-) (That tongue tho, some of your ask are DIRTY queen)
“Talk!” She demanded. “I’m in love with you,” he slurred.
Is their equivalent to: "Come out!" "I'm gay"
Loki being into choking is so him, I love him, my favorite nasty boy, he's so desperate someone needs to give him the talk about self-control
(Percy anytime she meets a god: Damn, that is some abs. My girl, how would you deal with normal bodies after being exposed to them? One night sleeping in Poseidon's tits and I'd never be the same)
Me, looking as Loki protects Percy: ✨Progress✨
No matter if it went to the burning trash with Percy's cruel comment, it's a yandere history, I am always ready to see her building her misery (saying that, I love her and wish her happiness)
Hades being miserable is something I need to think about, why him being in love with Percy is worse in my mind? It almost felt like a lie when he protected her when she arrived ROR, worse than Poseidon was open about his intentions, and never faked his desires...
Love to see him destroying this almost peace, drama is the rule here, after all.
Chapter34
Beelzebub and Loki, fighting over Percy like dramatic teenagers:
Tumblr media
Did you just make Hades kidnap Percy?
Why I'm surprised, is canon Hades' behavior.
(Poseidon, why the fuck didn't you put a GPS in her? She needs it)
QUEEN
QUEEN
THE FUCK?
THAT IS A CHAPTER
PLEASE SAVE HER
(Trio with Loki and Beelzebub? 🥹)
And you dare to be surprised about why I'm a full supporter of them.
They may not have morals, no mental stability, no auto control, toxic as Chernobyl, be the worse or the worse, have 0 consideration about Percy's desires, be the ones to most hurt her, manipulate her and everyone around them, and...
Anyway, you know what more are they?
Loyal motherfuckers (when Percy is pregnant lol)
No doubt, they would fight the gods and their ridiculous superpowers for her.
Love them, with this, they'd need to torture Percy to me into letting them go.
I have my pink heart-shaped glasses stuck to my face.
(I'm so afraid, please don't make me a clown here queen)
Chapter 35
If I die, Percy better grieve for me for the rest of her life! Loki thought as he was about to launch another attack, but then—
My boy, I would cry for you, I love you, and I don't care you lost her my baby, I'm your defender, your shield, your weapon against your haters, I have no shame, fight me in the mud-
Anyway, Percy should thank Annubis riding him, just saying
(I'm forcing the memory of human meat out of my brain. I'm a hannigram fan too)
Percy getting in her attic wife era, is so nice! Scape is part of the experience ❤️❤️❤️
(Knotting, belly bulge, heat, and omega/alpha dynamic? all of that for us? 🥹 finally someone who knows Annubi's real potential)
Imagine Annubis cutting his claws cause it hurts Percy and then after the sex Percy has enough bite marks to be mixed with a chewing toy.
No going to lie, Anubis is my kind of yandere favorite, the one that makes you feel safe until it hits you that he's dangerous. Bright smile and toxic thoughts ❤️
Chapter 36
Cú Chulainn? *looks at his photos* who´s that cutie and who dares to hide him from me?
Hades really looks at his siblings as kids and Poseidon is a baby throwing tantrums. Meanwhile, I consider that he's the worse, seeing how he stole Percy cause he was horny.
Who am I to judge?
On the other side, Anubis casually rizzing up Percy, showing how good a father he is, enjoying Hade's work to make her stay in hell and Loki's cape to hide her...
Know what? That'd work for me, give me some of that dream family life, I'd stay
Kebechet calling her mom: ❤️😘
Percy, that's a literal child, younger even than her clothes: This is okay, I guess? at least it's no incest for once
Chapter 37
Omg, I love Percy so much, she's so stupid.
What do you mean that you're staying with an (I hope) single father, his daughter, sleeping with them, using the clothes he gives you, the (no really) child calls you mom, the father picks you all the time, you're cooking for them and doing everything you see in family movies and you don't see anything wrong?
YOU'RE MAKING A BIRTHDAY CAKE PERCY, YOU'RE MOM
Her face flushed in embarrassment. “Can you please just…?” She motioned downwards.
He grinned in understanding. “Oh, right.”
He lowered himself down into a squat just so that she could be ‘taller’ than him 
One time, this guy did this for me... rizz me like no one else. I'd say this is the peak of romance, especially if you remember that he's very playful, so it's like having a golden retriever looking at you.
And his manipulation tactic is being cute! (no really but almost) so he's perfect for Percy, they can act cute together and annoy the rest together.
He's my favorite I think... I'm not sure, I am still a Poseidon's stan, and as I say, Loki and Belzeebub are my babies... but Annubis...
I just know the fall is going to go horrible for me, queen
Chapter 38
Anubis is worried cause his new wife is sick and he can't say anything ☹️☹️
“Come ooon, who’s a good boy?”
He perked up. “I am!”
That's a golden, no, wait.
This is your dangerous yandere? I just see a good boy 🙄🙄
Tumblr media
She gave him a suggestive look.
A large smirk crawled over his face as he stepped closer to her, their bodies nearly touching. He reached down to grasp her hands. “We… can finally…”
“Decorate for her birthday party!” They cheered in unison.
...
Just fucking marry and leave alone. They're so cute, recording together and talking about colors. *Sniff* What else do you need? that's married couple behavior.
AND, technically, he isn't lying, he's very sincere about her papel in the family, she's just an idiot who can catch a sign even if it was given to her.
Yes, he doesn't talk about the other... but, you don't have to talk about your exes, that's no sin, your honor.
That's a good man Savannah. A GOOD MAN
AND YES, MAYBE, he was calling Percy his wife, but also, giving first love, giving I love her so much.
You know, he respects her like the others don't, and *cries* It's going to hurt me so much if you make him like the others.
I know that he probably killed the other, maybe ate them too, but like, did they Kebechet cry? cause then they deserve it.
Queen, I just love him, don't make him so bad... or do it but in a hot way at least.
(Would be so funny if he's married and she isn't, would hurt so much)
Queen, how can you divide this beautiful family? forget about sending her to her home, just drink Meng Mo's soup, and stay happy with them.
Amazing like always, queen, have a roller coaster of emotions, I'd do it again.
Imagine if Nico were there to witness everything, he'd be a good godfather to Kebechet, play with her, and teach her about his game.
What a good and wonderful family 🥹🥹🥹
omg hiiiiiiii
Tumblr media
i love your chapter reviews lmao, this one especially made my day 😂😂😂😂😂
I ALSO LOVE HOW IMPATIENT YOU ARE FOR THE REAL SMUT LMAOOO I ALREADY WROTE THE FIRST FULL SMUT CHAPTER FOR ACT 2 AND I WILL NOT SAY WHO'S THE ONE SNATCHING PERCY'S VIRGINITY HEHEHEHE I'M GONNA LEAVE YOU GUESSING IN DESPAIR
Tumblr media
"Omg, I love Percy so much, she's so stupid" she really is, she's not connecting ANY dots; anthonius is usually in charge of the brain cells and unfortunately the bifrost forgot to take her one last brain cell left before it yoinked her into the ror verse 💀💀 beelzebub occasionally lends her a brain cell or two but only if she's good 😔
AND YES ANUBIS IS A GOOD BOY, THE GOODEST BOY EVER 🥺🥺🥺🥺 yes he's a yandere and yes i'm gonna fuck him up, but he will STILL BE PERCY'S GOOD BOY NO MATTER WHAT 😤😤😤 and kebi will always be #1 daughter!!!! 😤😤😤😤😤
anuby is actually soooo wholesome if you enjoy the yandere aspects of it (so like.... 90% of the whole ship LMAO) they're just so sweet to each other. just one lil happy family; a 7'5" tall unhinged death god and his cute lil wife who doesn't know she's a wife and their lil snakey daughter 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
56 notes · View notes
not-mr-durden · 4 months ago
Text
Fight Club sleeping headcanons
Tyler
Sleeps naked or only wearing pants from the day before
Sleeps on his back or on his stomach and has to be sprawled all over and around
Snores extremely loud (and does not care)
Can sleep literally anywhere and in any condition
Randomly scratches himself in his sleep
Stretches as soon as he wakes up, not because it's healthy but because he needs to
Obligatory yawn before falling asleep and right after waking up
Takes up all of the space on any bed
Messes up the blankets, tangles them, and often makes the pillows fall off the bed
Often ends up in a diagonal starfish position, one leg under the blanket
Will not wake up even if he's shaken or if there's loud noise
Often switches positions or rolls around
Often splashes his face with cold water to properly wake up
Marla
Very light sleeper
Sleeps exclusively on her side
Sometimes mumbles, moans or groans in her sleep
Has very vivid, weird dreams and likes talking about them
Doesn't move too much, but occasionally has little spasms, like kicking her leg or throwing the blankets off herself
Speaking of. She constantly feels either too hot or too cold and is in a constant battle with the blankets
Doesn't take off her makeup before going to sleep. Every day it gets more smudged but she likes how it looks
Also doesn't brush her hair when she wakes up
Sleeps in the clothes from the day before, or in her undergarments
Has cute slip dresses and pajama sets gifted to her by her mother and only wears them when she's sad
Has stuffed animals but doesn't sleep with them, only complains to them or asks them rhetorical questions
Likes to smoke on her bed, especially before going to sleep
Has fallen asleep with a cigarette in hand and burned a bit of her blanket multiple times
Likes to stay in bed after waking up for about 30 minutes
Is super grumpy and snappy in the morning (unless she has hooked up the night before)
Narrator
Oh boy. Here we go. (This might be controversial)
Hasn't slept for way longer than 6 months in the past
Falls asleep with his mouth open and drools all over the pillow
Wraps his arms around the pillow
Likes to stay under the blankets even if the weather is very hot
Has tried meditation and "self love" to fall asleep before
Doesn't move at all when sleeping
Also doesn't make a sound
Has fainted multiple times, even at work
Because he doesn't sleep, his metabolism and immune system are in hell. He's always sick (colds, fevers, etc.) and brings tissues everywhere. He's also very weak and feels like his body is heavy, so he has to sit down often. Constantly has a headache
Things he has experienced due to his lack of sleep in the past: memory loss, misplacing things, irrational behavior (saying things that don't make sense, actions not matching his words, etc.), trouble focusing, constantly zoning out, trouble with comprehension, psychosis, delirious/euphoric/anxious states, hallucinations, having to fight fainting/falling asleep (despite not being actually able to)
Has tried drinking too much caffeine to stop himself from fainting or behaving like a zombie at work, which has caused heart palpitations, tics, constant stomach aches
120 notes · View notes
l1tw1ck · 2 years ago
Note
imma need some leon hcs whenever you have braincells 🔫
(dont force yourself to do it right away, take your time <3)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Leon ♡
bottom!ftm leon (x top masc reader)
Self Indulgent NSFW Headcanons
if this goes against canon, im sorry😭😭
☆ AFAB Language Used ☆
Tumblr media
☆ He loves having his nipples played with. Sucking, biting, pinching, pulling, anything. He might even get nipple piercings if you ask
☆ Dominate him, he wants to submit to someone.
☆ He's used to being strong and taking care of other people so he wants you to take care of him instead. Treat him like a prince so he can finally take a break from being everyone's savior
☆ Size Kink. He loves bigger and stronger people but he can do without it as long as your cock/strap is thick and long <3 He just wants to be torn apart
☆ Spanking & Slapping. Spank his pussy or slap his face until both of them are red and swollen <33
☆ Fuck him until he passes out, he needs to be fucked so hard that he can't move his body in the morning
☆ He loves giving oral because he gets to hear you praise him and your attractive sounds of pleasure. He loves when you run your hands through his hair and call him a good boy
☆ Reciprocate the love! He loves being eaten out and sometimes he asks you to do it over and over again. It just feels too good
☆ Praise and or degrade him. Tell him he's a good boy or that he's a good for nothing whore. He deserves it either way
☆ Soft sex. As much as he likes it rough, he also needs to be treated like a prince every now and then
☆ Overstimulate him until he stops thinking clearly, he needs the relief
☆ He's such a good boy, he hardly ever gets punished for bad behavior but when he does, make sure to give him lots of love afterwards
Tumblr media
Leon circles his two fingers around his sensitive clit, moaning softly as he fantasizes about what he wants you to do to him. He moves those fingers down to his entrance and slides them inside. He moans your name quietly and brings his other hand to his chest. He plays with his nipple, getting it hard before pulling on it. He knows he shouldn't be doing this but he just couldn't stop himself. He throws his head back into the pillow, whimpering softly while imagining you catching him masturbating. Would you touch yourself too? Would you help him out? Fuck him? Or maybe you wouldn't give him the time of day by ignoring him as a punishment. His body grows hot as he imagines how you'd react. But he no longer has to imagine because he can hear your footsteps getting closer to the bedroom.
You cross your arms and look at Leon, your gaze sending shivers down his spine. "What did I tell you?"
"To not touch myself without your permission.." Leon turns to the side, taking his hands off his body.
You sigh, hiding the smirk that wants to appear on your face. He never does anything wrong, you're excited to punish him.
Tumblr media
821 notes · View notes
mac-n-chees · 2 months ago
Text
man i fucking hate enji todoroki
when i say that i hate endeavor i dont mean i think he’s icky and i dont like him. i mean i dont think he deserved the forgiveness he got im so sorry. for context let’s back things up. the entire todoroki family lore is SO FUCKED UP. the whole “convenience marriage” thing? WHACK. sa-ing rei until she gave him the child he wanted? WHACK. and we don’t talk about that enough! it was rape! he didn’t care about her at all, he just wanted the perfect weapon to beat all might! and then touya’s whole deal? the fact that he was literally self destructing bc he thought he wasn’t good enough? and endeavor never made him feel good enough? he had all the right to become a villain.
and then, shoto. literally alienated him from his siblings so none of them know a single thing about him and vice versa. weaponizing him since he was a TODDLER. and saying he was “tough on him” is a SEVERE understatement, that little boy was thoroughly abused.
and then the aftermath of the whole thing with rei. he traumatized her so bad it led her to BURN HER OWN SON’S FACE. and what did he do instead of reevaluate his behavior? LOCK HER UP IN A MENTAL INSTITUTION. and not because he cared for her health, but because he didn’t want her to hurt shoto again. messed. the fuck. up.
and if yall gonna come in here and say “oh but other characters have been forgiven after their redemption arcs like zuko and regina mills” DONT YOU EVER COME IN HERE WITH THAT SHIT. their entire redemption arc revolved around them making a wrong choice that further proved to them that being good was the right way. they felt severe unease, and like it wasn’t “them”, so to speak, at being inherently “evil” so they CHOSE to convert because being “evil” was not their true selves. they made MISTAKES but learned from those mistakes BY THEMSELVES without anyone else influencing their thoughts or telling them anything. they CHOSE good because the people they cared about were good, and they wanted to be with them. they made a bad choice, yes, but the whole point of the redemption arc was that they learned from it and improved their characters. endeavor did not make a bad choice, he abused actual, living people for many, many, MANY years. it wasn’t a “bad choice” it was a deliberate decision to fulfill his stupid fucking delusions of grandeur.
how are those antiheroes different from endeavor you ask? I WILL TELL YOU. sure, he got a redemption arc, and sure he got forgiven. but did yall notice he only did an effort to do better after he became the number 1 hero? after shoto was in UA and his children were grown? after rei was locked up so she couldn’t tell anyone about what happened? after all might was no longer the symbol of peace? he only made the effort to become a better person once his OWN PERSONAL GOALS were fulfilled. he always prioritized himself. he didn’t learn shit. he’s not sorry for shit. he regrets nothing. he just wants to be perceived as the perfect #1 hero like all might was.
be fucking for real, his redemption arc was NONEXISTENT, and his children should not forgive him no matter how hard he begs. he does not deserve forgiveness. he’s a fucking abuser, rapist, and all around ASSHOLE.
if he has no haters im dead. and if i see even one endeavor ass kisser in the comments, you’re getting blocked idgaf. the fact that you think he’s hot and just because of that he earned his forgiveness will not fly here hoes idc. that man deserves to rot in hell for all he’s done, if he wasn’t (and i cannot stress the “quote unquote” part enough) “attractive” yall would be on the other side. i can’t anymore, endeavor stans gtfo.
40 notes · View notes
nerdieforpedro · 10 months ago
Text
Filthy Hooligans
Lucian Flores x female reader
This fanfiction and my entire blog is 18+ MDNI
Main Masterlist / Lucian Flores Masterlist
Word Count: 1.6k
Summary: Showing up at Lucian's place at 3 am only means one thing. You both know it.
Warnings: Reader (nickname is cupcake) and Lucian are filthy, moisture, smoking, teasing, reference to public sex, exhibitionist behavior, fingering, 2 ass slaps (I think), unprotected P in V (wrap it people!), finger sucking
Notes: I came home from work last night. Fully intended to work on like 4 other WIPs I have. Fell asleep in my chair after eating something in my scrubs, woke up at 3 am. Wrote this, sent it to @musings-of-a-rose to read to over. And here were are. I hope I got the scuzz right. 👀
Tumblr media
“I didn’t realize you were full of such bullshit Flores.”
“You’re not going to take that tone with me. I’m telling you not to come here anymore.”
“Is that why you opened the door for me, because I shouldn’t come here anymore?”
It’s your damn mouth. You always have something to say, you can never just accept an answer. Always questioning, always saying something. He needs you to understand that he isn’t saying this because he wants to. Any man in their right mind would enjoy a visit from you at 3 a.m. in nothing but a crimson silk nightgown, black kitten heels and that long black peacoat he remembered buying for you even though you said it was too much. Things are a little too heated right now, he needs to lay low and not have people coming to and from except family, which you care clearly not. Everything about you is loud, which he enjoys. Immensely, finds it entertaining, but not now. 
“I opened the door because I can’t have you causing a scene in my building. I don’t need this shit right now.” Flores is barefoot and pacing. The door man knows you downstairs, he’s one of his people who knows you visit usually at night several times a week. He shouldn’t have let you in, Lucian doesn't remember off hand if he told him or not. He needs to follow up on that later. 
He always has a slight sheen to him, no matter if it’s cold or warm or he’s actually inside. Hair lightly damp around the edges but still curly on top. His small soft belly jiggles over the top of his gray sweatpants he normally sleeps in. A hand at his temple, massaging it, while his other one holds his cigarette, half ash and falling onto the floor. He’s aware that this isn’t his usual calm, collected and suave self. 
“Seems like you need my mouth after all Lucian.” You’re starting your game. Calling his name like that, kicking off your heels, running your cool hands across his heated back. It feels too good. He stops pacing for a moment. “Lu, please. I’ll take care of you and then go.” The idea floats in his mind. To let you do it, have that hot moist mouth of yours, he can lay his head against the back of his couch and not worry about anything while you work. Kissing, sucking, licking, smearing, worshiping at the altar he has between his legs. “Lu-cian~ Lu baby…” Your voice is deepening raspy, lips on the back of his neck, fingers tracing the gold chain that has become his signature over the years. Once he feels your tongue where his hairline starts, he turns to grab your wrists, not too hard, but so you’ll stop. 
“You damn siren! Just fucking listen. You. Need. To. Go. Do not come back until I call for you. I mean it cupcake.” Releasing you he curses. This is not what he needs right not, to be worrying about you. Flores needs to be focused on a plan to get out of the mess, find where the leak is. One of the boys messed up, he needed to know which one. He expects to hear you storm out, welcomes it because then he can focus. 
“Lucy~” Dammit, he hates when you call him that. It pisses him off, you know it does. He can’t engage. He’ll fall for the trick you’re trying to pull on him. Sticking his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, he goes over to his kitchen and gets a drink of water, gulping it down. Trickles of it slide down his neck, he knows it’s hitting the vein you like to nibble and suck on when you ride him. He’s been half-swollen since you banged on his door. He knew what you came here for, the same thing you’d been coming for the last three months. Lucian doesn’t expect your next move though, to have your silk, up around your waist, you on your knees facing the back of the couch and opening yourself for him. “Lucian, fill me once. Once and I’ll go.” His hands hold tight onto the sides of his marble kitchen island. Watching you. You’re just as bad as he is. 
The two of you have been like this since the Burger King parking lot in your car. You’d pulled him in, got on top of him, rode him, told him you liked his gold chain and used a marker you found in your glove box to write your number on his arm. Well you tried to, he was too sweaty once you two finished so that was a good laugh. There was a speed warning ticket that you tore in half and you both exchanged numbers. You were sure your phone was somewhere in your car. He was going to meet his guys to check in and see how collections were going, you said you were going to pick your mother up and take her to the grocery store. Filth to match his grime. Different locations, indoors and outdoors. At times, ripped and stained clothing was all you two parted with. His sweat on your body, lipstick on his chest and neck. Sometimes he wouldn’t wipe it off before he went to his next stop, showing off what he’d been up to.
Flores took his time in walking over to you, watching you wiggle your ass for him. When he was behind you, he spread your thighs wider and inserted two fingers in your dripping cunt, curling them to have you call his name louder. “They slid right the hell in didn’t they? Only been two days since I was last in this pussy. You already want it filled again, don’t you cupcake?” You look over your shoulder and whine, he uses his free hands to swat your ass. 
“Hell yes Lucian. I want to leave dripping again.” You grind on his fingers, making him start to pump into you slowly. “Give me your thick cock and stain me again.” A single kiss to the back of your neck is all that Lucian gives you before removing his fingers and replacing them with his cock. He feels you spread, groaning from finally having what you want. His hands take hold of your hips but doesn’t move yet.
“I mean it cupcake. You don’t show up here again without me calling you.” He feels you pushing your hips back and he pinches your hips making you yelp. “Do. You. Understand. Me?” His grip starts to loosen and you feel him pulling out of you.
“Yes! Yes Lucian I understand. Damn. I won’t be here unless you call.” Said almost too quickly to understand, Flores chuckles before making his hips flush with yours, bottoming out within you.
“You’ll only listen with my cock inside of you, it figures, cupcake.” The growl Lucian releases as his pace quickens, has your thighs dripping with your slick and his pre-cum. You’re slumped over the back of the couch, writhing your hips in tune with his. Flores has an idea and takes your elbows in his hands instead of your hips, pounding that much harder into you. 
“I’ll listen to whatever you say with this cock of your Lucian,” Your head hands toward your chest, your moans are turning into squeals. He muttered soft curses in between his grunts, releasing one of your arms, placing his hand on your chest, then sliding it up to your neck. 
“Will you now? My dirty cupcake, suck my fingers. Maybe I jerked off before you got here.” He commanded. His palm was now on your chin as he inserted three fingers in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. He felt your walls starting to quiver and knew with his throbs he wasn’t too far off either. With several haphazard thrusts, Lucian gave you your filling as requested. It warmed you from the inside, churned inside of you. The loss was felt when he pulled out this time, removing his fingers from your mouth and pulling his sweatpants back up. He saw you close your legs and stagger when standing up, he debated helping you, assisting you with your shoes, but not your coat. Before you closed it, trickles of his come were visible on your thighs. He smirked. 
You wobbled a bit but found your footing on the way to the door. “Don’t wait too long to call Flores. I may have to get some other filling if you’re going to holed up here.” The way you smiled told him that you actually would seek out a replacement for him. The corners of his mouth turned downward.
“You see if they’ll make you wobble like that. I doubt they will cupcake. You’ll be missing this dick. If you don’t answer, there’s plenty of pussy out here.” Lucian took his pack out of his pocket and lighter, firing up another cigarette. The small flame glowed against the visible sheen of his skin and his gold chain that you’ve never seen him without. His lips around the stick making a small ‘o’ as he inhaled, holding it in before his released the smoke from his nostrils, tilting his chin up.
“I’ll probably have to try a few before I find another good fit. And I don’t know what other woman you’d be able to find that can get wet enough to handle you. See you Lu~” He watched you walk out the door and down the hallway to the elevator. You blew him a kiss and he nodded before stepping back into his apartment and plopping down on the couch. He took a long drag of his cigarette and sighed, exhaling the smoke again. He’d need to figure out the leak sooner rather than later, he’s not willing to have blue balls over this shit.
The beads of sweat on Lucian's neck 💦: @laurfilijames @avastrasposts @maggiemayhemnj @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @morallyinept @trulybetty @goodwithcheese @secretelephanttattoo @rhoorl @linzels-blog @yorksgirl @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @magpiepills @alltheglitterandtheroar @beefrobeefcal @pamasaur @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @theywhowriteandknowthings @gasolinerainbowpuddles @megamindsecretlair @daddy-dins-girl @readingiskeepingmegoing @guelyury @missladym1981 @heareball @sin-djarin @gwendibleywrites @katw474 @immarocketman @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin
111 notes · View notes
icycoldninja · 8 months ago
Text
Dating Raiden headcannons
Tumblr media
-Despite his tough exterior and serious demeanor, he is the sweetest, most protective and loving baby boy in the world, he just doesn't know how to express it.
-Wants nothing more than to protect, care for, and cherish you for the rest of his life.
-While Raiden has no nicknames for you, as he just calls you by your name, Jack does.
-And OHHH BOOOY are there many, not all of them good. He calls you Sweetie, Babe, Dollface, Sexy, Hot stuff, Psycho, B*tch (affectionately), and Mine.
-Loves to do arts and crafts with you, those long nails claws of his are perfect for precise placements of tiny materials, cutting tiny objects with remarkable accuracy, and can also be dipped in paint to create perfectly thin lines.
-Will also let you paint his metal nails, though you'll have to do it often because the polish gets chipped a lot during battle; it's honestly a miracle if the coats stay on for more than 24 hours.
-Loves it if you help him polish, clean and/or buffer his armor.
-You are free to use his face however you please, no not like that don't get dirty thoughts now you can paint it, cover him in makeup, or make goofy masks for him to wear--he'll do it all.
-Very protective of you and cuddles you whenever you have a nightmare or just need him in general, though you must voice your needs, or he'll just lay there like the metal plank he is.
-Sometimes his alter ego Jack gets out without his permission (no idea how that happens), prompting a dramatic change in behavior and speech. He essentially becomes a different person--but that doesn't stop you from living your best life with him. You and Jack manage to get along very nicely.
-Trains you so you can always be ready for battle, because he knows someday, he might not be around to protect you.
-Randomly comes up to you and drapes himself across your lap, then just lounges there, pretending he doesn't notice you're sitting there. He'll just sit there, scrolling through his phone or reading a book, casually ignoring your existence.
-It's OK though, cause the weight and warmth from him is quite nice.
-Smells like cucumber baby wipes.
-Sometimes steals your eyeliner when his runs out.
-When you guys go to the store, people get really confused cause they see the bar code on his head and wonder if he put that there as a joke or if he's actually a piece of merchandise that somehow came to life and is now roaming free.
-If Raiden is in control, nothing notable happens, but if it's Jack, he slices the cashier's head in half when the cashier attempted to scan his head, then says with a smirk: "Don't even think about it, I already belong to someone."
-You guys should probably use the self checkout from now on.
142 notes · View notes