#just gotta figure out how much to include or not

[phneltwrites]

On Smut Writing

hey if you're a young royals writer and you struggle to write smut but you want to, I'm happy to chat. We can talk through your idea and discuss strategies. (ofc if you never want to then that's fine too!)

Otherwise also big recommend on this very old essay (like so old it both uses and defines the word slash): here

Also, here is a brief summary of my personal method. These tips also work for: action scenes, dance scenes, and dream sequences

figure out my zing (what is zing? read the essay)

put that at the centre of a mindmap

get mindmapping, build out the branches until I feel like I have a good sense of the major components of what makes that particular zing work

Give the characters a goal or need that must be met by the scene

unlearn shame and embrace joy. If time does not permit to unlearn shame and embrace joy, you can substitute by covering your screen while you write or playing music really loudly

write. Whenever the fic gets stuck, go back to the mindmap and pick a new branch. Put your zing at the centre of every paragraph

for tips on the writing, also refer to essay above

General smut writing tips:

focus on the sensation, not the choreography

give the scene structure. build towards something and then have a denouement

characters gotta want something at the beginning of the scene that is not an orgasm. At the end of the scene they should have it or be on the path to it

Drive plot through action. Remove dialogue and discussion and show those elements through touch

pick your terminology set and don't be afraid of repeating those words

Example below with nsfw text (though please don't be reading this at work I'm not responsible for that)

ok here's an example of how I put that into action for my fic 'I didn't just come here to dance' wherein Simon wears a plug to the club

my zing is sex toys worn under clothing

my mindmap

sorry this is terrible to read my handwriting is and has always been awful.

But here there's a few things that are on the mindmap. I've got public, sensation, discovery, denial, comeplay, and play, with their little branches off of them. Some of this is written as I go, some of it is omitted and included in the writing depending. It's a guideline

4. ok gonna be real this scene has less of a clear goal cause it's written to prompt, but here Simon has a goal of driving Wille out of his mind and Wille has the goal of showing Simon how much his mind was blown. So that's trust and partnership and communication.

But fr. ex in a longer fic I wrote, I put in a scene scene to show that Simon is feeling disconnected and frustrated and trying to distract himself from his uncomfortable feelings (not about Wille) through sex. So Simon has a goal and Wilhelm has a goal of taking care of Simon and they both can't get exactly what they want.

5. we keep working on this one! Sometimes I stare out the window at the mountains while I'm writing a smut scene so I don't see what my fingers are doing

6. but now I've got: a scene about trust and communication where there's a sex toy. Denial is a key component so they're in a situation where they can't just leave. But they're also going to be distracted so it needs to be a situation where they aren't focused on something else. So now they're at the club with a promise to a friend to stick it out. Voila! A fic.

[nug-chuohku]

Just noticed that I've neglected this, but I've gone and updated family information for Asato, Yano, Ryuko, and Maki. Links were added for family members who have posts/profiles made for them. Plus, some lore has been added to help clarify some posts.

[pageofheartdj]

Please, allosexuals can be sex-repulsed. It's not either both or neither. You can be attracted to people and want to be intimate with them, but feel aversion to the idea anyway.

[mishalikessoundsandcolours]

So I'm rewatching atla rn and I just need y'all to appreciate this 30 second scene because I haven't heard many people talk about it:

It's just so peaceful and serene and I just love the thought that even though there's war going on, there's Iroh and a bunch of other older generals who might not exactly want to be a part of this war and kill people either can appreciate a bit of music and dancing every now and then. I'm sad that there isn't a longer version of this song but at least we have this bit. I mean yes, Leaves From The Vine is very meaningful and beautiful and we all jam out to Secret Tunnel, but we must not forget the beauty of Winter Spring Summer and Fall either!

[silverxenomorph]

Made a foray into soaping today. Just Melt & Pour soap - I ain't ready to commit to cold processed soaping.

Mum wanted some small square soaps for her Christmas gifts for the ladies at her craft group and I had a melt and pour soaping kit I'd bought off facebook a few years ago from a Lady who was getting out of the hobby.

They're Lavender scented with dried Lavender flowers mixed in a Cocoa melt and pour base.

[suckishima]

deleted a whole 1k section of my fic last week and ughhh it was the right decision but it felt Bad and now im working on another section and it just. also isnt working and im contemplating deleting this section too and im annoyedddd. i have the final two chapters mapped out so well in my head but the getting there is a real slog this time around and i am frustrated

[dbphantom]

bl3 h2o au is 167 pages condensed [no notes/plans, just pure writing without breaks- the actual document is about 260 pages tho]

ffxv h2o au just hit 145 pages condensed

SOON.

[29121996]

.

[dan-crimes]

Vaguely unrelated but I have a huge backlog of potential Sonic posts to reblog and the day of reckoning WILL come and maybe I'll actually tag my Sonic posting as a heads up so people won't have to suffer just in case my Sonic posting is too intense

[ebodebo]

Tough As Nails—Giddy Up, Cowboy

thinking about cowboy!simon riley… MDNI | part two |

<- previous next ->

It had been about a week since your rendezvous with Simon. And, God, had it been consuming every waking and not waking thought.

Every breath, every touch had become engrained in your brain.

Him groaning into your mouth as you rode him. His fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hips as he whispered how fucking hot you looked on him. And, him casually giving you his cowboy hat after he gave you the best orgasm you’d ever had.

You hadn’t spoken since your little sexcapade, not because either of you were ignoring the other but simply because you were both so busy. He had to tend to the livestock and such, and you were up to your head in college work. Busy bees you both were.

But, your mom had made you take a break from your studies to come downstairs to join the camaraderie. So, you found yourself sitting on the corner cushion of the oversized white couch that takes up half of the living room, your family filling in the other seats.

The next half an hour is filled with questions regarding college, city life, and the age-old question of when you will bring a man home. Ah, gotta love being home.

You try to change the subject and bring it back to your cousin, who is engaged, but a figure moving outside catches your eye.

You squint a little to get a better view. It’s Simon. What the hell? He’s still working, and it’s eight o’clock at night. You decide to investigate, quickly excusing yourself and glancing outside until you see his figure walking towards the barn.

“Hey, Cowboy.” You shout, shuffling to his side. He doesn’t even have to look to know it’s you.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He gruffs out as he steps inside the barn.

“It’s eight.” You roll your eyes as you watch him grab a bale of hay. Watching his biceps flex, making his veins bulge, causes you to gulp.

He throws the hay over the fence to where the horses are and turns to face you, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Any reason you’re out here?” He asks, walking past you to grab a bucket of grain.

“I came to help you.” You lift your chin to look at him as he strolls past you again to pour the grain for the sheep.

“Don’t need help.” You tug on your bottom lip as you see his arms bulge again and sweat beads gather around his abdomen, just enough to where you can see the outline of his muscles. God, this is so pathetic.

“It would go by faster with me helping.” You urge, as he doesn’t so much as spare you a glance as he replies.

“Doubt that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your defensive tone finally makes him look at you.

“I don’t mean anythin’ by it. I’m just sayin’ that it doesn’t seem you know a lot about doin’ this kind of stuff.” He casually says as you narrow your eyes.

“This kind of stuff?” You repeat his words, your hands finding refuge on your hips.

“Labor intensive work.” Your eyes widen at his words. Of course, he thinks you’re some rich girl who can’t do anything except shop and date. Asshole.

“Wow.” You gawk, as you bring your hands up to cross across your upper body, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“I didn’t think you thought so little of me, Simon.” Oh shit. You didn’t use that stupid nickname he claims to despise so much; you used his name.

He sighs, dipping his head to look at the ground, pondering a response that won’t piss you off further.

“I don’t think little of you.” He sets the empty bucket down before continuing. “I shouldn’t have said that, okay? I’m sorry.” His words sound genuine, which you know he wouldn’t fake.

“You’re forgiven.” He curtly nods, thinking you’re done. “Only if I get to help you.” You smile as he briefly closes his eyes and sighs, fine.

You spend the better part of an hour assisting him with various tasks, including feeding the calves, fixing a broken fence, and chopping firewood, which quickly became your favorite activity. Primarily because, in between the first and last log, Simon pulled his shirt off, revealing his toned body and hairy chest.

After finishing up, Simon tells you he’ll drive you back to the house since you had to go pretty far to chop the wood.

You stand outside the passenger door as Simon carefully locks up the barn door. Before he makes his way to the driver's door, he stops before you.

“You did good work.” He praises you as he opens your door for you. You don’t step in immediately; you tilt your head up, cheekily smiling.

“Do I get a reward?” His eyes darken at your innuendo, and your breath quickens as you see his body flex.

“You want a reward? I’ll give you a reward.” He steps closer to you, grasping your waist with his hands. He dips his head down and hungrily encases your lips with his own.

It's the same hunger as your first kiss but with less urgency. You could taste your shared breath and feel the thud of your combined heartbeats. Your hands roamed up his chest while his slipped into your hair, threading his fingers through the strands.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You murmur into his mouth as he slips his tongue into yours. He grips you tighter, moving his mouth lower to press deep kisses on the tender skin of your neck.

“Scared your little boyfriend is gonna see us?” He murmurs into your skin. Referring to your guy friend, who you had been friends with for years and who was currently inside chatting with your mom.

“Fuck off. He’s not my boyfriend.” You say, gripping the back of his neck and bringing him back to your lips. “He’s a friend.” You gently nip his bottom lip, making him groan at the sensation.

“Gotta’ lot of guy friends?” He cheekily says, slipping his hand so it’s gently grazing the hem of your shirt.

“Just him.” You breathlessly reply as he slips his hand up your shirt, grazing your stomach as his lips graze against your ear.

“What about me?” He murmurs, gently nipping your ear lobe, making you grip his forearm.

“We are not friends.” He lets out a deep chuckle as he slips his hand past the waistband of your jeans, down to the button, gently unclasping it before pulling your zipper down.

“No? What do you suppose we are then?” He roughly asks as he slides your jeans down a little.

“I don’t know. Acquaintances?” You choke out, gripping his shoulders, as he grazes your cunt over your soaked underwear. He leans down, hovering over your ear.

“Don’t think acquaintances get this wet over each other.” He gently slips a finger under your underwear, carefully grazing your slit. “Do you?”

You can’t even speak. You’re too busy focusing on the way his finger feels in you. Too busy making sure you don’t fall over onto the dirt.

“Huh?” He tuts, slipping his finger entirely in you, grazing your sweet spot. You moan at the direct contact, fully leaning against the side of his truck.

“Probably not.” You manage to choke out as his fingers pump in and out of you, as he dips his head yet again to engulf your lips with his own, only pulling back slightly to praise you.

“Atta’ girl.”

Jesus Christ. You never understood how one single word or phrase could make a person lose it, but, in that moment, you almost came on his hand right then and there.

“You need more?” His husky voice rumbled through your ears, making you ferociously shake your head. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and slips another finger into you, this time lapsing around your clit.

“Fuck.” You moan out, pressing your forehead into his chest. “Feels so good.”

“I can feel.” He murmurs, referring to the multiple times you have clamped around his fingers. His fingers continue to move harmoniously inside you, grazing your clit in the process until you feel your impending orgasm.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. It was strong and intense. You thought riding him gave you the most intense orgasm you’d ever had, but he managed to intensify that with just his two fingers.

After a moment of you slumping against him to come down from your high, he zips and buttons your jeans and opens up the truck door for you to slide in.

Once he slips into his seat, he turns to you.

“You got your reward.” He breathes out, watching as you gently bite your lip.

“Now where’s mine?”

a/n: thank u guys for all of ur kind words on part one! i really appreciated it:)) hopefully, you enjoyed this💕

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[poundingwaves]

After some much needed post-battle rest, Gorgug is still left with one mystery to solve. How the hell is he supposed to figure out Mary Ann’s phone number? First, he asks Fig for help since she’s apparently on lime level. She laugh reacts to his message and tells him she has absolutely no clue what Quokki Pets is but she’ll meet him at Basrar’s.

Fig offers to Wanda Childa Mary Ann to try to get more information out of her and Gorgug practically begs her not to. They agree instead to request Adaine’s research expertise. Adaine sends them a bulleted list of Quokki Pets facts including where to find the game. The three of them meet at the Elmville mall to see if Mary Ann actually left her phone number there. Adaine starts mage handing copies of the game over to Fig (disguised as an employee) who opens them to see if there are any notes inside. Gorgug purchases a copy for himself. Maybe actually playing the game could be a good idea (and impress Mary Ann if that’s even possible). 

After being booted from the store, Mary Ann’s number still eluding them, they consider that finding Mary Ann’s profile could help. They enlist their tech genius, so Riz shows up with his equipment ready to go. He hacks into the Quokki Pets message boards and finds a high level user located in Elmville with the name Mangostrawb. Gotta be her. So they look through her posts on the message boards and mostly just find her showing off her Quokkis, leaving scathing comments on non-optimized builds, or occasionally dropping tips for new players. After scrolling through dozens of pages, they’re positive Mangostrawb is Mary Ann but that’s still not exactly helpful.

They finally call it quits for the day and go their separate ways, vowing to keep helping Gorgug get to that bench. Late that night as he’s embarking on his Quokki Pets journey, Gorgug gets a text from an unknown number. He opens it. “you don’t just get quokki pets. they come to you”

Gorgug sighs and puts his crystal down. She's so fucking annoying.

And so hot.

[murdrdocs]

darwinism

murdrtober oct 1. luke castellan description. you've always believed in survival of the fittest. but when things change about your nature and you're given extraordinary abilities, you take matters into your own hands. aka jennifer's body au

includes. SMUT 18+, size kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampies DARK CONTENT; murder, succubi, unreliable narrator, southern coded reader (hating yankees and all), gore, gaslighting, god complex, bitchy and bratty reader

wc. 6666k

a/n: welcome to kinktober. hopefully you like it

There’s so much you can feel. 

The cold summer air against your face and bare legs, wind whipping against your skin. The dull ache in your bones, a feeling similar to growing pains, steadily subsiding minute by minute. It pairs well with the deep, internal fire settled in your stomach, so hot that you feel like you’re fucking burning. You should be cold. You can’t even remember what it feels like to be cold. You can’t remember anything before this moment as you exist in a comatose state with tunnel vision and selective hearing accompanying you like old friends. 

There’s a substance coating nearly every inch of visible skin. It pulls your skin taut. It feels like dirt, but it’s so dark out that it could be anything. 

It smells metallic. 

Then there’s so much you can’t feel. Your toes. Your fingers. The ground beneath your feet. Your intuition. Empathy. 

You feel numb. Yet, you feel so alive. It’s addicting. 

You continue to march towards the unknown, existing between two planes: one full of something that prickles under your skin, filled with eternal screams and pleads to be spared. The other full of the sun on your skin, hands clasped together to exert some of the giddiness, sore cheeks and even sorer bellies from laughter. 

You wobble on your feet as they meet asphalt, moving on autopilot the entire time. You don’t need to think about where you are. You knew these roads by age ten, and drove them by age fifteen. These roads are your home. 

They’re usually deserted at this hour, which is why you’re surprised by the sound of a car driving beside you. It goes slow, slow, and slower until it comes to a stop a few feet ahead of you, no more than twenty. 

Before you even make it to the vehicle, the driver's side door opens. You don’t see who comes out, but you see a figure. It comes towards you, stopping just off to your side. You don’t look at him, staring straight ahead. 

“Hey…” they say, their voice deep, a gentle timber. You turn your head, blinking twice until you can see the stranger as clearly as possible. 

A boy, taller than you, with dark hair, and a strong jaw. You tilt your head, taking in everything that you can. 

It doesn’t occur to you that you haven’t spoken to him yet until he raises his eyebrows, waving his hand in front of your face. 

“Hey, what happened? Are you in shock?” 

His eyes scan down your body. 

“Shit,” he swears under his breath as he grabs your hands in his. For the first time, you can clearly see just how messy you are. The light from his car illuminates the deep color that coats your skin, the shadows beneath your fingernails. “We gotta get you to the hospital.”

Your hand wraps around his wrist in a quick jerk. You narrow your eyes, uncaring of the force you have behind the way you grab his wrist. “No,” you say. 

“No? No hospitals?” He seems shocked at first, but there’s a bit of relief in his eyes as if he’s thankful that you can, in fact, speak. 

You don’t say anything else after that. 

The boy nods. “Okay. C’mon then.” 

He pulls you towards his car by the hand you have around his wrist. He opens the passenger door for you, sets you in the vehicle, and doesn’t leave until he’s leaned over and snapped your seatbelt into place. 

You notice how good he smells. If he notices the way you lean in to get a better whiff, he doesn’t mention it. 

You are unsure of how much time has passed, but you come to when his car rolls into the driveway of a house you’ve never seen before. It’s new development, obviously. Everything about this neighborhood is too clean, too crisp. You feel out of place here. You wonder if he feels out of place in your town. 

“C’mon,” he says, opening the door for you. He leads you up the stairs to his house with a small hand on your back and a reassurance that the two of you will be alone, for his mom is at work. 

“Night shift,” he laughs a bit, the pathetic sound dying when you don’t return it. Have you ever known what it is like to laugh? You don’t think you could make the sound right now. 

He leads you to the kitchen and tells you to sit on a cushioned barstool at the island. You do as told, but when he tells you to stay still since he’ll be back, you stand up as soon as he leaves. 

There’s an unsatiated craving within you, a taste in your molars that’s both completely foreign and as familiar as your own face. The craving controls you, pushing your feet towards the fridge, holding your limbs up and contorting your fingers into a claw as you rifle through the cold contents. 

You don’t know exactly what you’re craving until you have a slab of packaged raw meat in your hands. 

You waste no time in dropping to your knees and tearing the plastic film off the styrofoam flat. Your fingers dig into the meat and you sigh at the feeling. You wish it were alive. Pulsing around your fingers, warm blood oozing through the punctures, pieces getting stuck beneath your manicured nails. 

Closer and closer the slab reaches for your mouth, your teeth bared, your eyes lidded. 

“My mom was saving that.”

You turn around, keeping your nails dug into the cold meat. You tilt your head, staring up at a boy. It takes you a second to remember his face, to remember anything past this moment. It’s the wavering smile he gives that reminds you. 

He smiles like everything is fine. Like you aren’t crouched in front of cold lighting, covered in blood, ready to devour a piece of raw meat. 

At first, you think he isn’t scared. You consider the option that he has seen more shit from whatever big city he’s from, and this small-town nonsense is nothing to him. But then you see the way the first-aid kid he holds in his hand shakes. You think you can distantly hear the fast thrum of his heart. You watch the way he licks his lips as his downturned eyes widen slightly. 

You let the meat fall onto the floor, ignoring the sound it makes as it hits the linoleum. 

He watches you take one slow step after the other until you stand right in front of him. 

Staring up at him, you get your first real look. He’s illuminated now by a combination of lighting from the refrigerator, stove, and the streetlight peeking through the window, and you notice that he really is pretty. And he really does smell good. 

This time, you make a show of sniffing him, drawing him in with a hand on either of his cheeks. You press the tip of your nose against his neck and drag it up towards his jaw, taking a dramatic inhale the entire time. His Adam’s apple bobs and you can audibly hear him gulp. 

“Are you scared of me?” you ask him, speaking directly in his ear. 

You don’t expect his hand to find your waist, but it does, nothing but a light touch at the denim waistband of your skirt. 

He takes a second to respond. He breathes, a meticulous inhale and exhale. He swallows. He shakes his head just a bit. 

“No. I’m not. You just need help.”

A push and his back hits the wall. 

Wide eyes watch you back out through the back door. 

You grin the entire time.

“Have the lights in here always been this bright?” You press your fingers into your temples and screw your eyes shut, thankful for the brief reprieve. 

“Most people have said it’s too dark in here. We don’t even have fluorescents.”

You peak one eye open, fixing it directly onto Clarisse. She refuses to meet your eye, instead continuing to wipe down an already spotless counter. You open your other eye, cocking your hip to the side and pouting. 

“What’s got your panties in such a twist?”

She finally stops, throwing the towel down onto the counter. She stares at you, her face fixed into one you easily recognize as annoyance. Clarisse wears annoyance the way most people wear general happiness. 

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Clarisse tucks a loose string of curls behind her ear. “You fucking left me last night. I was worried about you. And you just went home without at least telling me if you were okay or something.”

You roll your eyes. Really, she’s making a big deal out of nothing. 

“I’m fine, Clarisse. See?” You throw your arms out, spinning around in a circle for Clarisse to freely analyze you. You know there’s not a single scar, not a single spec of blood lingering on your body. You look as pure as a virgin even though evil lurks beneath your skin, unknown to anyone other than yourself. “Nothing’s wrong with me.” 

You can see Clarisse acquiesce. She still looks pissed, but that’s her resting face. She picks the towel back up and continues to wipe down the counter. 

“What happened to you anyway?”

“Dunno. I kinda blacked out and came to when I got home.”

“You walked?”

Mostly…

“Yeah. My feet are killing me.” Lie. You’ve never felt better. 

Clarisse shakes her head but whatever she has to say, she doesn’t say it. 

The bell above the door jingles. 

“Out of the way, there’s a customer.”

You slink off to the back of the bakery, sitting in a pulled-out chair beside the window. 

“Oh … are y'all open?” 

The same stranger from last night stands at the door, staring straight at Clarisse. Today, he’s joined by a little girl at his side.

You can see something not customer-friendly brew behind Clarisse’s eyes, daring to climb down to her mouth and spit itself at him. But she pulls her mouth into a line and nods. Maybe it’s for the little girl’s sake.

“We’re open.”

The stranger walks to the counter, the girl following his footsteps. Clarisse sends you a look over his shoulder. You can read it perfectly, even dulled down and unaccompanied by words. 

Why would he ask if we were open when the ‘open’ sign is on and the hours are posted?

You watch his back the entire time, freely listening in on their conversation. He tells Clarisse that he has a pickup under Castellan. Clarisse leaves and goes to the back, leaving the boy to tell the girl that no, he isn’t buying her a cookie. She gets fed up, asks for the keys, and then walks off to the car. 

You sit there, staring at your nails, admiring how healthy and strong they look, when he turns around. 

“Oh,” he says, “Hey.” 

“Hi…?”

The stranger stands straighter. He stuffs his hands in his pockets. 

“It’s me … from last night …. Remember?”

You squint, tilting your head as if you’re thinking. 

Luke continues. “I gave you a ride back to my house. You were covered in blood. You looked like you had gotten beat up or shot or something.”

“Why would I have been covered in blood?”

The stranger shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t get a chance to ask questions before you were tripping out of the door. You tried to eat my mom's ribeye.”

You hum unconvincingly. “Doesn’t sound like me. I don’t even eat red meat.”

The stranger's mouth drops open, his eyes narrowing as he looks around the bakery. He appears to be looking for something, maybe an answer to whatever question that is brewing behind his head. It’s subtle, but you can tell you’re getting under his skin. It’s fun to see how frazzled he’s getting over this. He starts stuttering, barely getting two words out before he tries again. 

You decide to put him out of his misery. “Look …?” you pause, waiting for a name. 

“Luke,” he says. 

“Luke,” you grin, enjoying the way the syllables feel in your mouth. “I don’t remember any of this. Sorry.” The apology is completely insincere from you. You sound patronizing like you’re talking down to a little kid. 

Before Luke can get another word in, Clarisse is back. She places his order on the counter, clicks a few buttons on the register, and presents his total. 

You use the time to sneak out, waving to Clarisse as you leave. You pass by the little girl as you leave. She sits in the same seat you sat in the night before. She watches you leave, her eyes calculating like she’s trying to figure something out. 

You really need a meal.

Screams as flesh tears. Blood spurting out of puncture wounds. It’s warm on your tongue as it slides down your throat, heating you up from the inside out. 

He tastes better than the last one. It didn’t occur to you that they would have different flavors, notes that hit different spots of your tongue and molars. You hum around the flavor of him. You wonder what the next one will taste like.

“You okay?” 

Luke watches your body tense and then loosen. He hears you swear under your breath as if the sound of his voice is nothing but a burden to you. 

You turn around to face him and Luke could’ve predicted the face you make. He did predict it, actually. The pout on your lips, the slight squint in your eyes, the tilt of your head. You even place your hands over your hips and cock them out. 

“Are you stalking me or something?”

Luke would be offended, but he’s come to learn things about you now. He knows you like to do that, throw a half-assed assumption toward whoever is on the other side of your wrath. Luke thinks you do it to deflect from yourself, but it hasn’t worked on him yet. He’s becoming more and more intrigued by you as the days go by. 

“It’s a small town, isn’t it?”

You shrug and turn back around to the pump, watching the gas meter count further up. 

Luke doesn’t let it go. He clicks the 93-octane level and sticks the nozzle into the fuel tank. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t usually answer dumb questions.”

Luke makes a sound akin to a chuckle, just without much of the humor behind it. 

“Just wondering because you’re looking a little sick. You’re paler than you were the last time I saw you. Bags under your eyes … they’re beginning to sink in, by the way. The same goes for your cheeks. If I didn’t know better, I would think you were sick. Maybe something bad.”

The handle of the nozzle clicks and you take it out of your car, sticking it back into the pump. You could leave right now, but you take the time to turn around and look at him. 

“Do you know better?”

Luke shrugs. He doesn’t mind this little game of cat and mouse he’s playing with you. It’s much better than the mundane questions he’s had to answer since coming here. 

Where are you from? No, where are you really from? 

Are you going to the technical school in the city? No? What about state? 

What church do you go to? 

You haven’t asked a single one of those questions. Granted, he’s only spoken to you thrice, and once was when you were practically comatose. But still, he’ll take it. 

The pump clicks behind him and Luke takes that as his cue. 

“I don’t know,” he tells you, a grin spreading across his face. “You tell me.”

You’ve adjusted pretty well to your new life. The hours are odd, leaving you wide awake at night with the metallic taste of blood still stuck in your molars. Come morning you’re exhausted, barely able to stand up straight. 

Clarisse leaves you messages on the landline. Calling you a recluse, wondering when you two were going to hang out again in the least clingy, most nonchalant way she can manage. She won’t say it outright, but you can tell she’s worried about you. You don’t understand why. 

You’re the healthiest you’ve ever been. Your skin shines like it did when you were younger. You haven’t had any aches in your body for the longest. As the weather cools down, everyone prepares themselves for whatever illness will sweep through the air this time, but you don’t have to. Even when your mom had the flu and you nursed her back to health, you didn’t get sick. 

You’re immune. You’re a god, and no one else seems to see it. 

To everyone else, you’re different, and not in a good way. They don’t see what you’ve been doing for this town, how you’ve been cleansing it one body at a time. If guilt tries to eat away at you, you just remind yourself that you’re doing good with the cards that you’ve been dealt.

You didn’t ask for this, but you don’t hate it.

When you open your front door, Luke Castellan is standing on your porch, his hand raised towards your doorbell as if he were about to press it. 

You aren’t shocked to see him. You’ve been getting too lucky recently, able to go out for hours at a time without running into someone from the Castellan family. Either Luke, his sister with her small group of friends, a kid you used to babysit among them, or Luke’s mom, who smiles at you like you have a thing with her son. 

You expected to run into him at least once today. There was a feeling, like the hairs on the back of your neck were preparing to stand up, warning you that fate or God or whatever is out there was trying to mess with you. Putting him in front of your face, taunting you with something so annoying. You don’t know why you don’t get it over with already, seduce him with the ease that you have seduced everyone else. His smell has been haunting you since that first night anyway. You want it, there’s no point in pretending that you don’t. 

You’ll do it today. Yes, right now. 

It’s still day out, but the sun will be setting soon. Most people are still working, your mom included, and your neighbors shouldn’t be coming home anytime soon. Just to be safe, you’ll take him out back into the woods, towards the treehouse Clarisse’s dad built for you both when you were 10, just six months before he left. 

Clarisse is still pissed at you so it’s unlikely that she’ll be there. 

You try to scratch the scowl off of your face, propping your hip into the doorframe and trying to look somewhat inviting. 

“Hi,” you say. 

Luke doesn’t waste any time returning your greeting. “I know it was you.” 

God, it’s so hard not to fall into the same routine as usual. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.” He takes a step closer and stares down at you. You’ve never realized how tall he is. You never realized how buff he is, either. He’s wearing a dark short-sleeved shirt. It fits well over his chest and biceps, drawing your attention there as he towers over you. 

“Do you wanna know how I know?” 

Your eyebrows lift, waiting for him to continue. 

“Clarisse told me everything. How you ditched her at a house party just outside of town to hang out with a guy. Some guy you had a big crush on when you were younger, right?” He’s right, but you try not to let it show. He continues, “My little sister helped me look some things up, all of your symptoms starting with the comatose state you were in that first night. Then the raw meat cravings, the mood boosts and drops. At first we thought it was drugs. Not unusual for people in small towns like these.

“Until Annabeth talked to one of her friends, and from word-to-mouth we found out that the guy you hung out with had a friend with him, didn’t he? He got away and he didn’t stop. He ran his mouth, told a few people what they did to you, and then tried to do what they did to you to another girl. So you killed him.”

You suck in a breath, ignoring the twitch in your fingers, the goosebumps on your arms. “What are you getting at? What am I, Luke?” 

You expect to hear the words for him. A name that you thought was simply a myth, nothing but supernatural folklore until it happened to you. 

“You’re a god.” The way he says it, his face splitting into a grin, a genuine one. Like he’s amazed by you. Like you’re his idol, someone he’s looked up to since a young age. 

You’ve never felt so seen, so understood. It’s only natural that you press your lips to his.

Up until now, you’ve lived off of fear. You liked seeing their eyes widen when they realized what you were and what you were going to do to them. You liked to press your hand to their chests and feel the fast thrum of their hearts beneath your palm. 

You don’t need that with him. 

You like the way Luke’s eyes get heavy, staring down at you between small breaks in moving your lips together. You like how his heart beats fast, but not with fear, beneath your hand when you slide it up his shirt. 

He’s so toned beneath your fingers. You bet he’s beautiful beneath this. 

“Let’s go outside,” you urge because that’s where you’ve always done it. Outside with nothing but nature to bear witness to the atrocities you commit. You’re more comfortable outside. Your newly inhuman nature seems to fit better in the forest, digging your nails into the dirt, accumulating scratches and scrapes that heal as soon as they’re there. You didn’t have to clean up anything when you were outside, leaving the bodies there to be found by whatever search party was launched this time. 

It doesn’t occur to you that you don’t need to do any of this with Luke until he shakes his head, holding your cheeks between two large palms. “No. Upstairs. In your bed.” 

You hesitate, taking a moment to figure out which road you want to go down. Will Luke be just like the others? Left as nothing but a body to be found, his family struggling to identify him when so many of his features are skewed and missing? Or could Luke be something different? 

He’s new, already unlike the same boys you’ve spent your entire life knowing. He hasn’t hit on you while oozing unwanted vulgarity. 

You fist the bottom of Luke’s shirt in one hand and pull him up the stairs. You trip in your hurry and Luke attempts to catch you, giggling under his breath as he holds your hips the rest of the way. 

You don’t bother shutting the door when you reach your room. You just turn around, wrap your hands around Luke’s neck, and pull him down to meet your lips. He’s still so much taller than you, even when he’s leaning down. 

Your bodies end up curling into each other—chest to chest, your back arched as Luke’s curves. He holds you close with an arm slung around the middle of your back and a hand on the back of your head. 

You’ve never been kissed like this, like the person kissing you is doing it for you, and not for themselves. Luke kisses like he means it, like he wants you, and he doesn’t just want you to want him. He doesn’t kiss in that same egotistical way that you’ve been kissed before. Boys who kissed like they thought they were good kissers. 

Luke kisses romantically. 

He kisses in a way that makes you want this forever. 

He’s romantic, but he’s not soft. He doesn’t treat you like you’re going to break. He digs his fingers into the back of your head, pulling your mouth right onto his. Your tongues search for the others, missing each other every so often; poking into the corners of your mouths, sliding over teeth. 

You’re fisting his shirt with such intensity that you fear you’ll break it. Your nails dig into the soft fabric, threatening to tear it into pieces. Luke pulls away from you for a moment, heavy breaths coming from between his parted lips. His tongue flicks out over his bottom lip—the flushed color matching the one on his cheeks—and nods his head. 

“Go ahead. Do it.”

You pull his shirt apart into two with one satisfying rip. Luke throws it off the rest of the way, and he’s left shirtless standing in front of you. 

He’s unnecessarily buff. Unnecessarily gorgeous standing before you. He must have Greek roots in his blood, there’s no way someone this pretty wouldn’t.

You press your hands into his chest and glide your palms down the ripples of muscle. You let your hand wander further down until you’re cupping the print of his dick, already taking shape beneath the sturdy denim of his jeans. His eyes flutter closed and his frame starts to slump forward a bit. You know you can get more of a reaction out of him with a little more work. 

His belt buckle clinks as you undo it, the leather audibly shuffles against itself and the denim as you tug it out of the loops. You throw it to the ground with his torn shirt, a piece of fabric you briefly mourn. You hope he has shirts that fit him even half as well as that one did. But if he does, the fate will likely be the same. 

You glance down at the opening you’ve created. You can see the print of Luke’s dick pressing into his checkered briefs, straining against the fabric. You think you can see a dark mark made at the end of him, but you aren’t sure. 

You don’t focus on any of that when you wrap your hand around the length of him. Luke sighs at the first feeling of contact, even though there’s a layer between. You sigh at the feeling, too, a fire ignited by the warmth in your hand.

Luke lets you palm him for a short while. His forehead resting against yours, his hand cupping the back of your neck, his frame somehow equal parts lax and rigid as it stands before you. 

Just when you go to give him—and yourself—more, Luke stops you. He wraps his free hand around your wrist before you can dig your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, leaving your nails dumbly scratching into the sparse hairs that make up his happy trail. 

“Luke?” you ask, mentally begging that he won’t ask you to stop. You can feel that doing this with him will be different, and you want to get that far. You want to give it a shot, introduce something new to your system before you continue down a road you’ll never be able to come back from. Maybe, in some way, Luke can provide a way out for you. Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking. 

He breathes deeply, his nostrils moving with the movement. It takes him a moment to look at you, to open his eyes as they’ve been shut ever since you first touched him. But when he does, he just stares at you, dark eyes darker than they were before, deep eyelashes perfectly framing his gaze. 

“I’m okay. Just … lemme be the one to do it first, alright?” 

His hands spread over your waist, fingers hooking into the belt loops of your skirt. He steers you back towards your bed, letting you sit down on your own without any intervention. You stare up at him, watching him watch you. You notice the soft hunger in his eyes, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the veins in his arms becoming more prominent as he cracks his knuckles. 

For the first time in a while, you feel meek. Staring up at Luke with your hands in your lap, instinctively picking at the remains of dirt beneath your nails, waiting for him to do something, anything. But he just stands, posture straight, arms down by his sides. His eyes trail up your entire body, starting from the heart print socks on your teeth, all the way up to the way your hair sits on your head. Only when he’s gotten a thorough look does his eyes flicker to meet yours. 

He smiles, a look that looks more insidious than it does comforting. To the average person, it would probably be alarming. To you it’s thrilling. 

He sinks to the ground, knees hitting the floor. You watch the entire time.

He takes your socks off, placing them onto the floor, devoid of any particular order. His hands wrap around your ankles and glide up your legs until he reaches your kneecaps. With one hand over each, Luke waits. You think he’ll pull your legs apart, push your skirt up, and slip your panties off. Instead, he trails his touch up the top of your thighs until he reaches your waist. 

“Lay back,” he tells you. You obey without a second thought. 

Luke continues to undress you until you lay beneath him in nothing but your underwear. He tells you to move up the bed, and he follows you when you do. He sits between your spread legs, resting on his haunches in nothing but his boxer briefs. He just sits. The two of you just sit together and breathe. 

It begins to feel meditative in a way, sitting in a silent room only full of the soft breaths that the two of you need to live. It’s like you’re living together in this brief moment. Like you’re alive together. 

 You initially expected to feel elevated upon the first touch with real intent that Luke gave you, and you do feel elevated, elated, even, but this moment doesn’t hold more influence than the moment the two of you had before. 

Still, you’re grateful for Luke’s fingers moving toward your center. You make more room for him, even though it’s unnecessary, as his fingertips inch closer and closer toward your panties. He moves slowly, but not hesitantly. Instead, he’s savoring his time. 

His fingertips reach beneath the waistband of your panties, he tugs them over your hip bones and down your thighs, delivering the same fate that the rest of your clothes had gotten before this. And as soon as you’re bare before him, he doesn’t waste any more time. 

He brings his face level with your cunt and licks a long stripe as if he’s testing the taste, and then he devours you in a way that you’ve never experienced before. Luke pleasures you like it’s what he was made to do and he’s finally found his one true purpose. 

He hooks his hands under your thighs and hoists your legs over his shoulders. He doesn’t just use his mouth, but the eternity of the bottom half of his face. He’s not afraid of getting messy, the tip of his perky nose and the protruding part of his chin getting involved in it as well. He doesn’t bother coming up for air much, but the couple of times that he does, you see just how much you glisten on his face. 

You’re writhing around above him. It’s like you’re having an exorcism, your body contorting, your chest reaching for the sky, your voice cracking, and your throat graveling as you make sounds you’ve never made before, even while you were being turned. 

You fist your hands into Luke’s curls with an intended force, but he doesn’t say anything. He groans, his eyebrows pushing together, but the look doesn’t appear to be one of pain. You feel his lips part around your cunt, you feel the gust of air he lets out against you, and then you notice the subtle shift of his hips into the mattress. 

He’s getting off from just this. 

You’ve never needed a guy more. 

“Luke,” you try to get his attention, grabbing his locks and attempting to pull him up. He doesn’t budge. “Luke,” you try again, still to no avail. 

“Luke. I want you in me,” you tell him between gasps and moans, trying desperately to pull yourself off of him. He does it for you, taking his lips away from your pussy to stare up at you. 

He licks his lips clean without hesitance. “No.”

“No?” And suddenly he’s pissing you off once more. 

Luke repeats himself. “No. Not yet. Not until I make you cum like this.”

And then he goes back to it without any further comment. He doesn’t leave room for arguing, no room for conversation. He just eats you out with more vigor, more determination.

He quickly gets what he wants and he sucks up every drop of it appreciatively. 

Just after that, you get what you want. 

 Luke doesn’t say anything when you maneuver him to lie on his back. He doesn’t protest when you pull his boxers down to the middle of his thighs and then straddle his hips. He doesn’t suggest the use of a condom, he doesn’t tell you to slow down, he just lays back with one hand tucked under his head and the other resting on your hip. 

He watches you guide yourself down onto his cock, held still with a firm hand from you. His jaw clenches and his nostrils flare at the first feeling of the tip of his dick spearheading the journey into you. 

His eyes flicker between watching himself disappear into you and watching your face as you take it like a champ. There’s barely any hesitation from you, likely because you’ve been so eager to have this. You hadn’t necessarily thought about this much before, nothing but subconscious want that you refused to spare a thought on. But ever since you allowed room for those thoughts to exist, you’ve longed for just this very moment, the feeling of Luke filling you up with unexpected satisfaction. 

Luke’s in you to the hilt for all of a second before you’re moving. Falling into a role you know well, you lift and sink your hips, grinding from deep in the pelvis whenever you can. Leadership comes to you naturally, there’s no second-guessing yourself in these movements. You know what to do, you know what Luke will like, and you know it well. 

You keep your hands on his abdomen, feeling the breaths he takes beneath your capable hands, taking into account his muscles tensing when you clench around him. 

You know it feels good for him, but you still ask, “Does that feel good, Luke?” 

He lolls his head to the side and lazily watches you work. He doesn’t answer for a while, but you give him time, continuing to do exactly what you’re doing in the meantime. Eventually, he nods. 

“Uh-huh.”

He sounds fucked out. A little dumb, too. It’s hot. 

You speed up, decide not to waste any time finishing Luke off, and hopefully yourself too. 

Luke’s hand ends up on your cunt, his thumb pressed into your clit, swirling circles in time with the speed of your hips. 

It suddenly occurs to you that the two of you have conflicting interests. Luke wants to make you come, while you want to make him come. You’re sure deep down the two of you have the same goal, but the forefront of motivation differs. You’re not backing down, even if it’ll work in your favor. Selflessness possesses you for the first time in years and you pull Luke’s hand away, leaning forward and pressing your weight into it until his hand sticks to the bed. You don’t say anything, you just stare at him while you continue to ride him like your already-ended-life depends on it. 

When Luke cums, he’s looking you right in the eye, allowing you to see every single thought as it flashes through his mind. 

You can’t focus on it for too long, though, because you’re following suit directly after. 

You’re twitching on top of him, your cunt spasming, your head thrown back, your abdomen tensing and relaxing. 

This feeling is different. 

It’s euphoric. It’s more than an orgasm, more than being stuffed full of Luke’s cum, plugged by his cock. 

You feel fulfilled in a way you never have before. When you consumed the others, the satisfaction was superficial, never deep enough to complete you. With Luke, you feel complete. You want more. 

You start rocking your hips back and forth. 

“Woah.” Luke’s voice is rough, vibrating in his throat as it comes up to meet your ears. “Slow down,” he tells you, his hands on your hips. His grip isn’t as strong as it was earlier, but you still place your hands on top of his, fearing that he’ll make you stop. 

You stare down at him, your eyebrows pinched together. You whine his name.

He nods, sucking in a sharp breath when you raise yourself up, just to lower back down. “I know, I know. Just … I’m gonna need a minute, alright? Here,” he sits up, beginning to tug you up. When you don’t cooperate, he lifts his eyebrows, a warning clearly right there on his face. You don’t want to, but you get off of him. 

He flips you both over, hovering over your body for all of a second before he kisses down your torso. 

“No, no, Luke, not again. ‘s not what I want. I want you.”

“And you’re getting me, aren’t you?” He cocks an eyebrow, tilting his head and giving you a look that dares you to test him. You really want to, but this fog in your head is keeping you submissive, keeping you at his mercy. 

“Not in the ways that I want. You know what I mean, don't be an ass about it.”

He snickers but doesn’t change his course. “I promise you, baby, I’ll give you what you want. Just on my terms too, okay? We’re a team now, you got that?”

You stare down at him as your heart blooms in your chest with a feeling you’ve never felt before. 

“Yeah. Okay.”

You’re a team.

There’s blood coating you, drying your skin, pulling it taut. You sit in the passenger seat of Luke’s jeep, much about this similar to the first night. 

The freezing cold temperature both inside the car and out, the destruction done to your body and outfit, the carnage left behind for someone to find. But things are different about this, too. The hand you hold over the center console, the control you have over the music that plays, the fullness you feel, completely unrelated to the feeding you’ve had to partake in. It was the first in months, necessary for your survival, but no longer the main contributor. Not since you’ve been getting something completely different from Luke. 

You’re addicted to him, constantly overindulging until he’s spent and you’re just entering that same territory. But he’s begun to expect it, your insatiable qualities as integral to your person as your favorite artist. Luke knows your quirks now. He knows what it means when you turn down the music, look over at him, and grin with a twinkle in your eyes. 

He pulls over into an empty parking lot and lets you climb into the backseat while he walks around. 

There’s nothing wrong with feeding twice in one night.

[forget-you-morelike-fuck-you]

That's What Friends Are For- E.M.

I've been really thirsty for Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie so I poured myself this taaaallll drink of water. Hope you love it xx

You've never had an orgasm, and Eddie would be happy to help remedy that.

Part 2

Masterlist

TW- 18+ MINORS DNI!! Cursing, mentions of smoking, heavy petting, pet names (angel, sweetheart), a lil crying (but in a good way), fingering (lmk if I missed any)

Pairings- Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie

Word Count- 4,802

(Gifs not mine, credit to owner!)

It wasn’t something that you’d normally ask, but with the haze of weed clouding your senses and the exaggerated moans of the poor actress being exploited for the dumb action movie you and Eddie were watching out of sheer boredom, you couldn’t help yourself. You turn to Eddie, the cogs in your head turning in overtime as the words reach your mouth before you can even put too much stock in them, “What does an orgasm even feel like?” Your eyes narrow as you imagine it, the sounds of the woman on screen echoing in your mind. There’s no way that real people sound like that, no, this is just some stupid movie that you and Eddie had never even heard of before digging it out of the pile of tapes beneath the TV. “I mean, I guess it’s gotta feel good, but does it feel that good?”  

While you ponder the probability of the sounds onscreen being at all accurate for real-world scenarios, Eddie’s face pales, the light high he’d been enjoying completely knocked out of his body at your words. Despite being best friends for the past several years, you never really talked about your sex lives with each other. For you, it was because it didn’t exist. For Eddie, it was because the only person he really wanted anymore was you. Every other person in town combined couldn’t interest him half as much as you, and he had definitely looked. Pining after your best friend for years wasn’t really something Eddie was interested in doing, not that it helped. Of course, the only reason you hadn’t made a move—aside from the fact that you were thoroughly terrified at the thought of being rejected—was because you thought that Eddie was something of a ladies’ man. You knew he was much more experienced than you, not that that was a difficult feat, but you knew that he at least went on dates. And you never wanted your attraction to him get in the way of your friendship anyway. If he liked you, he would’ve made a move sooner, right?  

Wrong. 

Eddie had fallen head over heels for you about a year after you had met, both of you juniors in high school. You went away with your family on vacation for a couple weeks that summer and came back... different. You were more confident, and even though it had only been a short separation, you looked different, more womanly than gangly teenager. He liked you before, but some switch inside his chest flicked, like the lights were finally turning on in some long-forgotten roller coaster ride. He’s had it bad for you ever since, suffering in silence because he knows how shy you used to be, and still are to some extent. He would never, ever want to do or say anything to make you uncomfortable, including putting his feelings on the line in exchange for your amazing friendship.  

Still, the news that you didn’t know what an orgasm felt like was surprising. He knew you were private about your dating life, and he always respected that. But you had had boyfriends before. And you were both in your early 20s now. Surely you had been with one of them. Or even figured it out on your own... 

“What?” is the brilliant response that flies from Eddie’s lips as his brain short circuits. You look back at his face, having wandered away, lost in thought. Eddie half expects you to backtrack, but still, to his surprise, you double down. 

“What does an orgasm feel like?” He can tell your Mary Jane consumption must be fueling this line of questioning, but if you’re really curious... 

“Um, well...” Eddie flounders, trying to find the words to say. You keep your focus on him, your thoughts trailing only slightly as you wait for him to respond. “It... It does feel really good. I don’t know exactly what it feels like for women, but for guys, at least, for me, it’s like my whole body kind of explodes, but in, like, the best way,”  

You mull this over for a moment, your eyes darting between Eddie’s face and the screen, which has since moved past the over-exaggerated sex scene back into shootouts between the good guy and the bad ones. “Okay, well, have any of the girls you’ve been with ever sounded like that?” You were genuinely curious, trying to imagine what could feel that good and coming up blank. 

Eddie chuckles a bit, eyes flicking up in a memory, “Well, one, but I’m pretty sure she was faking. Some women think they have to sound like that because that’s what the movies show them they’re supposed to sound like. But really, there are all different kinds of... sounds... that people make when they’re feeling that good,” he explains, his surprise relaxing now into amusement just slightly. 

“Oh,” You look back at the screen, apparently done with your questions. Eddie feels his heartbeat fading back into its normal rhythm after the near heart-attack you had inflicted upon him, and things go quiet for a minute before you turn your head back toward him, mouth poised open to speak. “Do you think—Never mind,” You quickly shove the thought back down your throat, remembering that Eddie’s not supposed to know you’ve been in love with him forever.  

The possibilities of what you were about to ask him makes his heart race again, until he’s burning to know. “What is it?” He asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. 

Your lips press together and shake your head as a heat spreads over your face, giving you a moment of clarity amid the warmth of the high. “No, it’s okay, it was a dumb question,” You wave your hand in dismissal, and pray that Eddie doesn’t press it further in fear of your mouth working faster than your logic. Of course, you have no such luck. 

“There are no dumb questions. If you want to know something, all you have to do is ask. Would I ever judge you for anything? And really think about that, because I’ve seen you pick a pickle up off the floor and eat it,” He laughs, trying to diffuse the tension. It helps a little, and with his reassurance and that fleeting moment of clarity far away, you open your mouth again, hesitating as you find the right words. 

“Do you think... that you could maybe... show me?”  

Eddie’s eyes bulge from his skull, and he’s afraid that his heart has totally stopped for a minute. But after an agonizing moment, a thick thump of his heart breathes life back into him, and he can only pray that you can’t hear it as it loudly thump, thump, thumps in his chest.  

“Show you..?” It’s a begging question. He’s not exactly sure which part you want to learn, and he wants to make sure he doesn’t assume anything. 

You turn away again, the mortification laying over you in a thick blanket. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have... You can forget it,” 

Eddie doesn’t want to mess this up, and the visions of you making such pretty little sounds for him, or better yet, unraveling under his touch, automatically send all of the spare blood in his body downward, so quickly that he almost becomes dizzy. He has to make an effort to shift his body to hide his growing erection as he tries to reassure you. “No, no! Don’t worry, I’m listening. It’s okay, I swear! What do you want me to show you? I... I can do my best,” His voice is sincere, sincere enough to make you look sheepishly back at him, your lashes low as you try not to look in his eyes. 

You take a deep breath, your head buzzing with adrenaline as you form the words. “Would you show me how to have an orgasm?”  

Eddie swallows hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat. He’s trying so hard to make this seem as chill as possible, for both of your sakes. If he gets too eager too quickly, there’s no way he wouldn’t just bust in his pajama pants, and he might scare you. His mouth is dry as he nods quickly, “Um, yeah. I- I can definitely try,” He watches as your face grows redder by the second, but you give a small smile, one that makes Eddie lightheaded again as another shockwave of want shoots through his half-hard cock. “Do you want to go to my room?” He asks softly, gauging the look on your face as you still avoid his eyes.  

“Yeah,” You murmur, but your legs won’t move. There’s a want in you, despite not knowing how to indulge it, and as Eddie gets up from the couch, offering a hand to you, you take it and squeeze, finally looking up at him. Eddie feels like he might faint in that moment, your hazy eyes doe-like and innocent, not making it any easier for him to keep calm. He pulls you up to your feet and you follow him, your hand in his, to his room.  

You shut the door behind you, flicking the lock on the knob despite being the only ones home, and turn to face Eddie, who stands just behind you, still not believing what might happen. “S-so, um...” He begins, feet shuffling beneath him. “For girls, it’s a lot harder to... finish. It takes a lot of warming up first,” Your brow furrows. 

“Warming up?” A blush breaks out over Eddie’s cheeks, and he reaches out to let his fingers trace up your arm, ghosting over your shoulder and up your neck. A breath hitches in your throat as his palm cups your face, and suddenly, you think you might know what he means. Nevertheless, he explains. 

“It’s a lot easier when you’re feeling good from other things first. Like touching, kissing... things like that. It can be painful if you don’t do it right,” Your lashes flutter as he leans in slightly, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face. 

“Oh,” Eddie lets out a breath of a laugh at your breathless response, and already you feel yourself turning to putty in his hands.  

“I want you to tell me if you don’t like something, okay? Don’t try to spare my feelings. If you want me to stop doing something, or you want me to do something specific, you tell me. Okay?” The demanding edge in his whispers snaps you back to reality, and you feel a warmth building deep within you. It’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Sure, shadows of this have been felt watching risqué movies with sex scenes or kissing your prior boyfriends awkwardly in the backs of their cars, but that pales in comparison. This is a new, deep burn in the very depths of your body. 

“Mhmm,” You try to lean closer to him, to feel more, but his other hand goes to your waist, holding you in place. Your eyes meet his, and they’re unexpectedly hard, his brown eyes serious as he looks at you. 

“I need you to say it. I need to know you can say it,” Your breath stutters again at his words, but still, you find your voice. 

“I- I don’t like that,” You whisper, and it’s all you can do. Eddie nods in approval, but his eyes want you to continue, “I want you... I want you to kiss me,” You can hear the hammer of your heart in your ears, your blood singing as the anticipation grows. Eddie’s eyes return to their normal softness, gazing into yours like he’s seeing the sun set over the ocean for the first time.  

“Are you sure?” Eddie whispers as he inches toward you, his face leaning down ever closer. This might be the closest you’ve ever been to him, and the thought sends a delicious shiver up your spine. His nose just brushes yours, and your eyes flutter shut. 

“I want you to kiss me, Eddie,” It’s barely a breath, but he hears you, and gently, gently, his lips meet yours, barely a brush of skin against skin. You hear him suck in a deep breath before letting his lips move against yours a little more firmly, the hand on your waist snaking around your back to pull you closer to him. You let your hands find the back of his hair, which is up in a cute, messy bun, and your fingers wind themselves around a few loose, curly tendrils there. Then, Eddie’s lips move across your cheek, down toward your jaw, and the first sound comes loose from your lips. 

It’s a tiny noise, but it might as well have been Eddie’s favorite song, the way he revels in it. He can feel the pounding of your heart in your chest as you press yourself against him, not really knowing what to do other than let Eddie work his way down your neck with his lips. “E-Eddie...” You whimper, hands gently grasping at the fabric at the back of his worn t-shirt.  

Eddie stops then, immediately, waiting for your instruction. He had gone too far, hadn’t he? He had done something to make you uncomfortable and now you’d never ever talk to him again... “Can we lay down?” You ask, breathy and quiet in his ear. He presses a firm kiss to the top of your shoulder in relief, elated that you were enjoying what was happening before pulling away. 

“Yeah, let’s get you comfy,” He smiles one of those easy, lopsided smiles that takes your breath away, and you feel the butterflies that usually reside in your stomach move downward to your core. You instinctively clench your thighs together to try to squash the foreign feeling, but as Eddie moves to lay down, you see the bulge in his loose pants, and it sends a new swarm flooding your body. With a deep breath, you join Eddie and lay next to him, his face only inches from yours. His hand reaches toward your face, gently brushing a few stray hairs behind your ear. “Do you want to just keep kissing, or are you ready to try something else?” He asks. You think it over, biting the inside of your lip as you bite back the embarrassment of being so inexperienced next to him.  

“Can we try something new and still do some kissing?” You smile sheepishly, not being able to hold his gaze as your face heats. He lets out a small laugh, not at you, but because you’re so nervous. 

“Yeah, we can do that. Is it okay if I touch you? I can just try a few things and you can figure out what you like,” He suggests, his eyes roaming over you. You’re not wearing a bra, because you never did when you and Eddie were just lounging around watching movies and smoking, something Eddie had to get used to quick when your body started really developing. Once or twice when he was a few years younger, he had to fake an upset stomach just to relieve his aching cock in the bathroom upon seeing your pert nipples through the fabric of one of his old t-shirts. 

“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” With your permission, Eddie’s fingers gently reach the hem of your shirt, slipping under and running his calloused fingertips over the smooth skin of your side. You let out a gasp, your eyes screwing shut, and he notices the way your hips move of their own accord, trying to scratch an itch you’ve never felt before. He has to bite back a moan of his own just at the sight of you, so beautiful, so willing beneath his capable hands. He lets out a shaky breath as his hand moves up your side, leaning in to kiss you like he said he would, like he was aching to do again, and you accept his lips greedily, your hands pressing into the sides of his face as he glides across your skin, not light enough to tickle, but enough to send tingles over your skin, goosebumps forming in the wake of his caress. 

When his hand comes to cup your breast, not daring to flick over the sensitive nub just yet, you let out your second noise as he gives a little squeeze there. This one is muffled by his lips, pressed firmly to yours, and the vibration of it shoots straight down to his cock, which twitches willfully in his pants, wanting you more and more every second that passes. 

With a light touch, Eddie lets his thumb just brush your nipple, and it sends an electric shock through you, leading to your third noise, a much sharper sound that almost sounds painful. But when your lips press into his even harder, Eddie is only spurred on and he does it again, then lets his full hand grope over the full mound, rubbing across your breast with his palm. Eddie lets his tongue trace over your bottom lip then, and you open your mouth to him, not really knowing how to kiss with tongue, but unwilling to stop to make a comment about it as your body ignites to a new level of fire and electricity.  

Your legs are continuously rubbing together now, the friction glorious but not enough, and you want to feel more. You’re panting in between the long stretches of kissing, and while you don’t want to stop, you also need to tell Eddie what you want. So, instead of rushing back to his kiss, you press your thumb gently to his bottom lip, pupils blown with need. “Can you take my shorts off?” You ask, your confidence building. Eddie nods all too eagerly, and he gets up onto his knees to shift town toward your bottom half. You roll onto your back and lift your butt to make it a bit easier for him, his hands finding purchase at your hips, fingers dipping just below the waistband when he stops. 

“Do you want me to take your underwear off too?” He asks, wanting to be sure. You bite your lip again as the embarrassment floods back. 

“I’m not wearing any...” You admit, giving a small smile. His hands grip at your hips a bit harder then, and his sharp breath only helps your growing need. This is the most beautiful you’ve ever seen him, towering over you like this. You can see the long outline of his length through his pants now, and you let your mind wonder what could happen if this goes even further than you originally intended. It’s enough to make your hips roll in Eddie’s hands as he starts pulling down your sleep shorts. You close your eyes, trying to keep your embarrassment from making you chicken out when you’re finally about to get what you’ve always wanted. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes, and your eyes shoot open as you stare at him, mortification building in your chest. 

“What? Is it bad? Do I look weird?” You ask in a flurry. Your hands go to cover your face, thighs clenching together to spare yourself when Eddie pries your legs apart again. 

“What? God no! You look... You look fucking amazing,” There’s a wonder in his voice, and you peek through your fingers to find him staring down at you, the look on his face amorous, hungry almost, like you’re his favorite meal in the world. It takes you aback, but nevertheless, there’s a twitch in your hips again, seeking a friction that you can no longer achieve for the time being. Eddie gently lowers himself on top of you, and you let out a moan when you feel the fabric of his pants brushing over your bare pussy. You let your hands fall as you try to push yourself into him, but there’s a hand holding onto your hip now to keep you down. “Oh my god, please, can you try not to do that right now? I am already in serious danger here, angel. If I feel even a little bit of you against my dick I’m fucking done for,” Eddie breathes a laugh to cover the moan in his voice, his face hovering over yours. 

“B-but I want—” Eddie cuts you off with a deep kiss, his hand squeezing into your hip as you desperately try to feel him against you again. 

“Not tonight, sweetheart. I want this one to be about you, okay? If you still want to in the morning, we can circle back,” Eddie offers, and you give a small nod. “Okay, then. I’m gonna touch you now, okay? I’ll go nice and slow. If you want me to change what I’m doing, just tell me,” You nod again and the hand gripping your hip travels down and his lips meet the hollow of your neck, giving just a tiny nip at the skin that sends your hips up again in need. Eddie tries to hold it in, but he can’t help but moan softly against your skin as he continues his journey.  

His fingers ghost just over the sensitive bud of nerves then, and the shock that goes through your body is even more intense than before when he was playing with your nipple. Your arms fling around his back and you grip the fabric of his t-shirt like a lifeline. “I’m gonna take good care of you,” Eddie whispers as he travels up your neck, “I’m gonna make you feel so good,”  

The promise is punctuated by a soft circle around your clit, and your whimper is so pathetic it startles you as it tumbles from your lips. You can feel how wet you are now; how hot your core is against his fingertips. It’s so blissful, so wanton that you feel your walls clenching around nothing, another new feeling that sends your head reeling. Eddie continues his gentle pattern around your bud, sucking sweet bruises into the skin below your ear between whispers of sweet nothing that spur you forward on your quest into the unknown world of this beautiful feeling. 

“E-Eddie,” You plead, head thrown back in pleasure. Your fingers pull his shirt so that your hands connect with his skin, “Can you go—Can you go a little f-faster, please?” Eddie nods into the crook of your neck as he complies, fingers moving just a bit faster, a bit firmer against you, and your chest starts heaving in pants again, moans spilling from your mouth more freely now. You grind into his hand pathetically as the intense pleasure grows. You feel like you could cry at the feeling, so blissful and beautiful and everything you’ve ever dreamed of as Eddie works you further and further, his lips only ever leaving your skin to whisper sweet nothings to you. 

“You’re doing so good... I can’t believe I get to do this for you... Been wanting you like this for so long...” Eddie nips and sucks and licks across your neck, up your face, across your lips, and you’re just so consumed by him that you feel hot little pinpricks in the corners of your eyes, your throat going thick as the tears begin. 

When Eddie catches sight of the first one, he slows his work on your core, afraid that you had changed your mind. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” You feel a pang of panic then, not really knowing why but knowing that you were desperate to reach the edge you were approaching. You pull at his shirt, not being able to verbalize your excruciating need for a second. 

“No, no!” You plead, “Don’t stop, please... I just... Please don’t stop...” You don’t know why you’re crying. Maybe because it feels so good, maybe because the emotions are just so new that your body is startled by them. Either way, Eddie is reluctant but believes you, because he trusts you and you trust him so completely that you don’t think that there’s any way that either of you would or even could hurt each other. 

Eddie picks up the pace again, his lips focusing on yours now to help keep you from crying. Your fingernails scratch up his back as you whine and writhe beneath him, coming closer and closer to something. There’s a tenseness in your stomach now, and it’s building. There must be a precipice close, a pinnacle to all of this pleasure and need Eddie has been giving you. Your panting breaths become more ragged, and Eddie gets the feeling that you’re close. 

“That’s it, angel. You gonna cum for me?” He practically moans against your mouth, and it’s another agonizing minute of this pressure inside you building before you feel it.  

Your hands clench Eddie’s shirt as you unravel. Your tears are flowing freely down your face, mouth open in a loud moan that reverberates on the walls of Eddie’s small room. Eddie keeps drawing circles over your clit as you ride through the waves of your first ever orgasm, kissing down to the top of your chest and back up to add to the pleasure. Finally, you feel it start to subside, the wide waves lessening into ripples as your breath starts to even out again. Eddie slows down again, and finally stops after a few more seconds, wanting to draw out your bliss as much as he can. He kisses you deeply, the hand on your pussy traveling up to grip your side, sliding up past the hem of your shirt as he holds you firm. You can feel the slick on his fingers cooling down on your skin, and it sends a new wave of shivers through your body.  

You kiss each other for a long time, not wanting to go back to reality where you’re just friends, but finally you have to pull away for air. You look at each other, both of you quiet. There’s a new electricity in the air, charged with the anticipation of what you’ll say to each other now that everything has changed.  

“How was that?” Eddie settles on, his brow set in a concerning furrow. He wants to make sure that you had the best experience he could’ve offered you, because that’s what you deserve. You deserve to feel this good all the time. 

Your soft eyes bore into his and you nod slowly, trying to etch every detail of this night into your memory forever. “It was amazing. You are...” Your hand comes to hold his face, and he leans into your touch in such a way that your heart melts for him even more. “You’re so amazing, Eddie, thank you.” You give a little laugh then, at how silly it sounds for you to thank your friend for giving you an orgasm. Eddie laughs a little too, and he stretches his lips to kiss the edge of your palm. 

“Anything for my favorite girl,” He whispers, smiling that easy smile that you love so much. Pride sparkles in your chest at his words. God, you love him so much... 

“So...” You feel a blush creeping on your face again, “You’ve been wanting me... like this?” You think back to the words he whispered against your neck that made your insides turn to mush. 

Eddie flicks his eyes away from you, embarrassed. “You caught that, huh?” 

“Was I not supposed to?” You giggle, your smile sending shockwaves through Eddie’s body. 

“Well, I just didn’t think you would. You seemed to be pretty distracted if I recall,” He jabs playfully, his gaze returning to you. His eyes soften at his next thought, “What do you think about that?” 

This is it, this is where everything changes. It’ll never be the same after this. “I...” You begin, building your courage. “I’ve been wanting that, too.”  

Eddie’s face moves through confusion, surprise, and then settles on joy, his smile widening to reach his sparking brown eyes. “Yeah? You’ve been wanting that too?” Your smile matches his as you nod, letting out a breath of a laugh with the relief settling in your chest. 

Suddenly, Eddie squeezes you in a bone crushing hug, peppering kisses over your face as you giggle. His lips settle on yours again, and it’s like taking a drink of cool water after wandering in the desert. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to this, but by God, you’d be happy to. 

You keep kissing and cuddling for a long time, talking like you usually do, how best friends do, but now it’s just better. Best friends, but there’s no more hesitancy, no more wishing for more, because now, you have everything you could ever want. 

[sparky-is-spiders]

Just gonna keep all my self-indulgent fun Drama aus here. Anyway my brain is feeling more cooperative now but only for soap opera Jonelias. Nothing else. So.

I'm obsessed with. Jonelias torrid affair. I'm thinking younger researcher Jon. Pre season 1. And Elias is this cool, calm, extremely knowledgeable guy that Jon looks up to, who's taken on something of a mentorship role. And Jon's just nursing the most embarrassing crush, but this is his boss who is like twice his age, but Elias just knows so much and he's got this steady air to him that helps Jon feel more grounded and he's so interesting to talk to and what's Jon even supposed to do about that???? And it doesn't help that Elias is actively interested in him and invested in him. So the abandonment issues and need to Impress Elias (because maybe he can't be liked for himself but surely he can be appreciated for his intelligence and diligence) and the emotional repression are all mixing in his head.

Eventually it reaches a breaking point. I'm not even sure who I want to initiate tbh. Maybe Elias wants to see what happens if he pushes Jon, maybe Jon impulsively makes a move.... yeah ok it's probably Elias who starts things tbh. I think he would also enjoy the drama of a secret relationship (especially the shame and the fear of discovery... it would be a nice snack). Besides he gets to rotate Jon and put him in mundane situations and examine his future archivist from every angle and keep him both close to Elias and from forming connections with others.

They never officially date properly and also it's messy as hell. Elias likes to push Jon and Jon is prone to freezing him out or trying to avoid him whenever the pressure and secrecy get to be too much. Like one third of their relationship is emotionally charged conversations about work (workaholics lmao) and one third is bickering and the rest is snogging in quiet corners of the institute.

And maybe part of it is that Jon doesn't want to lose the only real connection he has and that's why he holds onto the relationship so hard. And maybe that scares him and they break up a bunch because Jon needs to prove that he doesn't need this and he needs to hide the evidence so nobody can find out that he's having some weird messy love affair with his middle-aged boss. But he can never resist their connection and he can never resist Elias.

Idk this all feels ooc tbh. Anyway have my brainleavings.

Because I'm feeling warm and fuzzy and self-indulgent and also because I spent this morning marinating in headache and daydreaming about it:

[bwabys-scenarios]

HEAR ME OUT, TOJI AND NANAMI BEING INTO CHUBBY WOMEN??? (from jjk ofc-) what’s ur take on which characters from jjk would be into chubby girls? 😋

JJK men that prefer a chubby wife

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: breeding, pussy eating, sex, cockwarming, fem reader

NSFW JJK taglist: @iluvies @zeniiis @highbats69

If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned !

Gojo

-not only does he have a preference for plump women, he’s not afraid to make it known. Sure he’s dated mostly thin women through high school and college, but that was before he knew the pleasure of holding onto a pair of fat thighs as he fucked into chubby pussy…

-you’re his EVERYTHING he’s completely in love and shows you off as often as he can. there’s no room to be self conscious or doubt your beauty, because he’s absolutely head over heels and will show you in and out of the bedroom.

-he’s got to have you on his lap any time you’re around, including if you come to bring him lunch when he’s teaching class. it’s a little embarrassing, but it’s how he shows his love!

-there’s nothing that can tear him away from your chubby pussy once he’s got his tongue in you I fear… honestly he’s fallen asleep between your legs more than once…

Nanami

-he enjoys soft and comfortable things, and you’re one of them. he finds himself resting his head on your breasts or belly when he’s stressed!

-Nanami is a pretty big, muscular man, so the extra cushion on your body lets him let loose a little more than he would be able to with a thin woman

-this man would do absolutely anything for you. he just adores pampering you with sweets and new clothes. when he has you to come home to, he can do pretty much anything.

-he just loves having your fat, plump ass resting on his lap as you keep his cock nice and warm. he’ll rub a hand over your chubby tummy, whispering about how soon, your belly will swell with his child, and how good of a mommy you will be!

Choso

-Choso had no preferences before he met you, and after he did see your plump figure approach Itadori with a big smile on your face, his life was changed forever. It didn’t help that you were a kind college student that was taking care of his baby brother, you were PERFECT!

-he doesn’t understand human beauty standards, so he was genuinely shocked when Itadori informed him you had never been with a man before. you are literal perfection?? oh hell no he’s gotta wife you up with HASTE

-he follows you around like a lovesick puppy, sometimes growling at anyone that gets too close. he can’t keep his eyes off your fat, swaying hips or your cute chubby cheeks that look pink each time you catch his staring

-it wasn’t long before he couldn’t help it and had you sprawled out on the bed, his face buried in your pussy as he confessed and apologized all at the same time

Toji

-sir is absolutely smitten with you. Your cute chubby cheeks that turn pink when he gives you attention, the soft sway of your plump hips when you walk away, and most importantly that tummy that he’d love to squeeze while he bounces you on his cock… dreamy sigh…

-you’re his sweet little princess, and he just loves to get you all riled up. the way you puff out your cheeks and pout at him after he just fucked you on his fingers just to pull away right before you could orgasm gets him hard

-he loves to fuck your thighs and get them all messy with his cum <3 don’t worry, he’ll always clean up his mess and give you a few orgasms as an apology, but he just loves the feeling of your soft, plush thighs surrounding his dick

-he’s a big fan of groping and grabbing at your ass when you walk by, and yes this extends to public settings. it’s a bit embarrassing, but he’ll buy you a piece of strawberry cake later to make it up for you

[leahsgf]

MEETING – leah williamson

leah williamson x child!reader

based on this request | bubba masterlist

love love love writing for this lil universe so please keep the requests coming

the first few weeks of your life were spent in complete bliss, leah happily soaking up every single moment between the two of you in your own little bubble - before she'd have to introduce you to the chaos that was the rest of the world.

despite the eagerness of those around her to meet you, she had strictly said no visitors until she was ready, bar her own mother, who had moved in temporarily as you both settled into this new life.

-

you had just hit three weeks old when leah had finally felt ready to allow a few more people into your space, having settled a little more into the swing of things and also not having the energy to turn offers down any longer.

it started off small - with her nearest and dearest, her dad, brother, grandma, and friends, of course including keira, and then gradually branched out to perhaps the most impatient of the lot, your rather large flock of aunties - also known as her teammates.

due to you being born mid season, the arsenal girls were going to be the first ones to meet you, much to the dismay of some of the lionesses especially georgia, keira obviously not helping the cause whatsoever by endlessly boasting about the fact she'd met you before any of them.

(leah would never tell a soul that keira was so nervous when she met you that she had barely held you, and instead timidly patted your head, and said it was 'nice to meet you' whilst shaking your tiny hand)

she had originally planned on hosting the weekly team night at her apartment and letting the girls all meet you there, but then went against it when she realised just how cramped her living room actually was when it held an entire very eager football team inside, alongside the fact that going out and getting some fresh air was something she desperately needed, and an escape from the newborn chaos that had taken over her home.

so, she had instead settled for arranging with jonas a day where there wasn't an awful lot of training to do and only the odd meeting or two, where she'd bring you into the training ground and introduce them to you there as a mini surprise.

-

after what had felt like a year of trying to get ready to leave the house, leah still adjusting to just how much stuff and preparation was needed for such a tiny little human, she finally pulled into the car park and got you both out, praising her parking job and getting you both there alive before having what felt like the battle of her life with the pram whilst getting it out.

kim, the only one of the girls who knew she was coming, and the unofficial mother figure of the team- met her outside, marvelling over you in an instant, before leading the way to the meeting room where the rest of the team were.

-

a collective gasp travelled across the meeting room as leah entered, with you bundled into her arms, the focus immediately off jonas’ attempted distraction ramble and all on you.

“is she seriously in an arsenal kit lee” alessia giggled, letting you clasp one of her fingers in your hand, as the rest of the team gathered around the pair of you in absolute awe.

“of course she is less! gotta teach her young haven’t i, my little gooner! especially when she’s got an uncle and grandad who are dead set on making her a spurs fan - so who wants a hold first?” the blonde replied, switching the conversation and ignoring the laughter and the teasing remarks about her passion for her club, instead letting them fight over who got to hold you first.

-

you had been pretty fussy in everyone’s arms apart from your mother’s, not being a huge fan of the unfamiliarity and all of the sudden movement when being passed around the room, until beth had insisted on viv holding you despite how nervous she had been, and your grizzles had settled almost instantly, and your frown which was the carbon copy of your mother’s faded.

“hi schatje, i’m your auntie viv, we love you so much already.” she murmured, stroking your cheeks ever so softly as you stared back up at her, still in the phase where you were fascinated by the world around you.

you beamed as she tickled your nose, your first official, non wind related smile that leah had been desperate to coax out of you for weeks now.

“looks like vivi is a natural! even baby williamson can sense that she’s a goat!” katie grinned, forever the leader of the ‘miedema fan club’, leaning on the dutch woman’s shoulder and poking her tongue out at you.

-

“welcome to the one of your forever homes my girl. you’re so so loved already.” leah whispered to you, cradling you and embracing the moment of peace she had after stepping away from the chaos in order to settle you down in your pram - allowing kyra and vic, who you’d undoubtedly overtake in maturity at some point, to take you on a walk around with steph’s supervision for your nap.