#like he's just gotten so used to things that he just knows their next move

[hotchshands]

for kinktober/cocktober hotch using his handcuffs on you? 😩😩😩 (i feel like her be so hesitant but the reader would be SUCH a whiny little bitch about it 🤭)

tyty <33 MWAH

How did you know I’m a slut for handcuffs🤭

Okay, so imagine it’s Halloween night, and Hotch dresses up as himself, basically because you and Jack begged him to join you all in some trick-or-treating. At the end of the night, Hotch has a surprise for you…

"Come on, it's Halloween. You have to dress up!" you shout from the kitchen at Hotch, who is putting together his last-minute Halloween costume in the bedroom. The two of you have just started living together in Hotch's tiny apartment, so it was your first Halloween as a couple.

You and Jack were patiently waiting for Aaron to finish up. You were dressed up as a witch, and Jack was dressed up as Spider-Man. Things at the BAU have been crazy busy, so you and Aaron forgot to plan for Halloween. Jack, on the other hand, has had his costume for weeks now. Your costume was a backup for years like this when you forgot to plan a more elaborate costume.

Jack and you were nibbling on the Halloween cookies you all made when Aaron walked out of the bedroom and inside the kitchen. "Well, it's not much of a costume, but it's all I got," Hotch says, looking down at his costume. He was wearing his FBI vest, and a pair of handcuffs were attached to this belt.

"Cool! Let's go, Dad!" Jack said, putting down a cookie and pulling on Aaron's leg, eager to go trick-or-treating. You laughed at his response and accepted Aaron's lame attempt at Halloween, following the two out. On your way, you caught a glance at Aaron's butt in his tight pants. You've seen him dressed on the job, but it takes your breath away every time.

After hours of trick-or-treating, you all decided to call it a night. Jack had gotten a bunch of candy but grew tired after a few hours, plus Hotch, and you were exhausted. By the time you stepped into the apartment, Jack was ready for bed.

While Hotch put Jack to bed, you cleaned up the house, ensuring all the candy was put away. After putting the boy to sleep, Hotch joined you in the kitchen. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. I think I'm gonna turn in," Hotch said.

You sighed, "Me too. Mind helping me get out of this costume?"

Hotch's brows raised at that. He knew you didn't mean it in a dirty way, but his mind went gutter diving. He approached you and leaned toward your ear, "I'm glad you asked. I've been thinking of getting you naked all night."

"Aaron!" you yelped in surprise.

He couldn't help but laugh, walking away down the hall and toward the bedroom. You smirked, turning off the lights before following him. When you reach your bedroom, you can see Aaron standing in front of the bed, still in costume. Seeing him in the vest gave you a boost of much-needed energy.

"So, officer, are you gonna help me?" you asked, walking toward Hotch slowly.

Hotch looked you over before placing his hands on your shoulders, "That depends. Have you been a bad girl?"

"Me?" you point to yourself, knowing you were the only two in the room. "Well, everyone knows that I'm a good girl, officer."

You could tell your words affected Aaron even though you've never called him "officer" before. He traced the fabric of your costume before ribbing the black dress. You were shocked, stunned, really. He never acted that eager ever. He was a very patient man, but tonight was different. He didn't wait for permission.

"Is that so?" he said, tilting your chin up. He removed the remains of the dress from your body, leaving you in your lingerie. He then moved a hand toward your center and felt a hint of wetness there. "Good girls aren't such filthy whores. Now turn around," he commanded.

You slowly turned around, unsure of his next move.

"You're under arrest for trying to seduce a federal officer," he says, handcuffing you.

The cuffs were tight against your wrists, making it impossible to use them in any capacity. "But, officer, please let me explain," you pleaded, playing in the fantasy.

"No need. I'm gonna teach you a lesson, sweetheart."

He tosses you toward the bed. Your chest falls on the mattress while your hands remain tied behind your back. You couldn't see him, but you could hear the sound of a zipper coming undone. The sound made you whine. Your fingers reach out to touch him but to no use. He slaps your ass, telling you to stop whining.

"Bad girls don't get to touch. Got it?"

He grabbed your throat and lifted it up as he pressed against you, his other hand holding onto the cuffs that tied your hands together. You hated that you couldn't see or touch him, but you ended up having the best Halloween [sex] ever.

[llovedletters]

𝜗𝜚 the secret of (what used to be) us .ᐟ

currently playing ❛ us. (feat taylor swift) ❜ in which: ❛ percy and annabeth were the talk of camp halfblood. in your eyes, percy completely disregarded your feelings. but in his eyes, annabeth was just the next best thing. ❜

─────────────────────

pairing: ❛ idiot!percy jackson x idiot!fem!reader ❜ warnings: ❛ percy is a little mean, reader and percy are idiots, a little sad moment for annabeth but i fear its for the plot, cursing ❜

─────────────────────

percy jackson was your best (and what seemed like your only) friend and you'd just lost him. were you surprised that he and annabeth had gotten together? not really, not after manhattan.

you were so disappointed in yourself when you had found out that in the midst of the battle it was annabeth who had saved him, not you.

and maybe that was why you were in the position you were in now, lying to yourself that all the blatant and awkward flirting and longer-than-normal glances were average things that happened when you were friends with a guy.

all your friends had told you that they would've never expected that it wasn't you that he'd go after, especially after all you've been through together.

but it just didn't make sense. i mean he had to have felt that tingle when you two had touched hands or the warm feeling in your chest when he smiled. all of it, was just in your head?

. . .

percy's gaze across the dining pavillion felt like lasers in the side of your head.

you had tried to ignore him but, it wasn't really working.

annabeth was looking at you too except, it wasn't a look of concern or solace like percy's, it was pitiful almost as if she was rubbing it into your face.

as your eyes met the pair, annabeth turned away. percy smiled gently causing that warmth in your chest to rise. you didn't smile back of course, why would you?

his mouth moved, but no words came out. from what you could understand he mouthed something along the lines of "meet me at our spot after dinner".

a sigh left your lips. you weren't going to go and that was that.

. . .

you stood by the ruins reluctantly. yes you weren't going to go but... you felt bad. or at least that's what you told yourself.

"you look nice today." his voice wavered a bit, the squeak causing him to cringe at his words.

"what do you want percy?"

"i want to know what the fuck is going on with you, with us."

"us? what 'us'? there isn't an 'us' and you've made that clear." percy's eyebrows furrowed.

he was at a loss of words for a good few seconds. "there is an us don't say that." his words were harsh.

"no there isn't an us! there's a you, a you and annabeth. and i'm sorry if i wasn't enough for you to make you realize that i care a hell of a lot more than she does."

and you could tell when the gears in percy's mind started to turn. "what do you mean you care?"

"you know exactly what i mean."

his breath hitched, and you weren't even sure when the last time you exhaled was.

"so this whole time..."

"ever since i met you."

he wasn't even sure what to say at this point. so he stood there and watched as you walked away. your hair blew in the cold fall air. he thought you'd turn back, he knew you would. in fact he was sure if he could he'd bet on it.

but you didn't, for the first time you never looked back at him.

and that hurt.

─────────────────────

. . .

A LETTER FROM LAY !

me no really likey this, but lmk if you want a pt.2!

[thetxtdevil]

MAE. 🫵

perv priest!soobin with corruption, worshipping and/or breeding kinks. go as insane as possible, or as insane as you desire to. either one. love u.<3

the devil is waiting in hell for you...

nsfw/mdni, christian religion themes

"let us pray"

the tall priest soothing voice echoes throughout the church as everyone in the pews mimics the bow of his head. then a disrupting clank of the churches giant wooden doors fills the room making everyone including the priest's bring the attention to the source of the noise, you.

you just moved from somewhere to live in someplace of a small town. quaint, cute town that seemed to make every sundays quiet. you decided it wouldn't hurt to join in the traditions. however, you lost track of time and now you were late to your first mass.

you tip toe to the seats at the back doing a double take noticing the priest's eyes on you. sitting down next to an old lady you give her smile and she whispers, "don't worry, father soobin is very nice." you smile at her again, but you couldn't help but straighten your posture and act intrigued by the reading when you again see the priest's eyes glued on you.

how pretty the new follower of the religion is, the beautiful colors casting over your face from the stained glass windows. soobin thought you looked like an angel sitting there yet, you maybe a devil in disguise for the burning feeling soobin felt in his stomach.

he's gotten well aquatinted with you the more you came to the weekly mass. he'd always start and end his readings looking at you. would "accidentally" purposefully let his finger touch your tongue when giving you the body of christ. priest soobin has also persuade you to start going to confession.

the priest thought you were pretty, but your voice is something else. in the little confession room, he was separated from you by a wall. you confessed that you've committed adultery by thinking of the most sinful things. you say you would pray more for forgiveness and to stop, but here you are back again to confess. priest soobin couldn't help but ask for specifics, maybe the lord is trying to tell you something, but in reality he just wanted to hear your naughty words making a tent form in his robes.

it became a bad habit. "lord forgive me" he constantly says but continuously jerks himself off to the thought of you. every time you come in to confess, after each sunday mass you attend, even when he sees you at the supermarket on his day off. you are the devil that has consumed his mind.

and oh how much you looked like the devil when you were on top of him. after everyone left the church that sunday afternoon, priest soobin asks for you to stay. to your surprise he confesses to you, "y/n you've been in my mind a lot, maybe god is telling me something but its... haunting me." he told himself he just need to experience this just once, he'll pray harder, more soulful, he just needs to see how the sin of sex is so bad. but... it was good.

soobin's bare back was sore on the hard surface of the pew's wooden seats, he whines, prays to god saying how good you were making him feel. you rode him, knees on the wooden seat like you were praying, the same beautiful rays of the stained window makes every detail of your body mesmerizing to soobin. his big hands usually pressed together, now pressed on your chest. the noises of skin on skin echo throughout the church.

"I know god likes to have more worshippers, do you think you can give me a gift of life?"

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @naoristerling, @inkigayocamman, @biteyoubiteme

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Imperfect Love

The three times Joshua sees you look down on yourself, and the one where he finally can’t take it anymore.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: reader is insecure about their physical appearance

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.

One

It’s Thursday morning and Joshua has the day off. He wakes up with you and while you get ready for work, he prepares some breakfast. You usually leave at 8:15 but he’s still sipping coffee and waiting for you at 8:17 as the food gets cold. It’s unlike you. You’re always so punctual. So he gets up, wandering into your shared bathroom.

You’re huffing, putting on another layer of powder over your chin. “You okay, darling?” He asks gently. 

“No. I’m breaking out badly lately and this makeup isn’t helping any. What time is it?” 

“You’re running a little late,” he admits. You snatch up your phone and hiss at the time. Things get dumped back into your makeup bag. He doesn’t like the way anxiety is bleeding out of you as you rush for a cardigan and your bag. “Hey, breath for a second.” He stops you with hands on your shoulders. “Just send your boss a message and say you’re running a little late. You need to eat something first.” 

You frown at him and he frowns back. “I don’t have time, Joshua. You didn’t make anything yet, did you?” 

“I did,” he sighs. He knows he won’t get anywhere with the whole ‘be late’ thing, so he changes his game plan. “Why don’t I drive you? It will give you a few extra minutes to eat something before you go. It’s supposed to rain anyway.”

You sigh, looking a little relieved. “If you’re sure. I really wish you’d sleep in and rest on your day off though.” 

He brushes it off, pulling your seat out for you and putting a plate in front of you. Within the hour, he drops you off at work, but he doesn’t go straight home. He calls his makeup artist and stops by the store first. 

At 5pm, he picks you up and drives you home. He starts dinner while you go to take a shower. On the bathroom counter there’s a shiny bag with your name on it. Inside is a a couple new cleansers, one that’s gentle and one that’s for acne. That’s not a surprise. You both share things like this and it wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten something for you only for him to use it too. 

But there’s a palette of cream makeup in the bottom of the bag. The shades look right. You’ve never tried anything like it before. After your shower, you meet Joshua in the kitchen. “Did you stop and get the stuff on the bathroom counter today?” 

He doesn’t look at you as he chops some things. “Yeah. My makeup artist recommended the cream makeup if you have breakouts. Thought you might give it a try since you weren’t happy with your makeup this morning.” 

You frown. “Thank you, Joshua.” 

He gives you a sweet smile, puckering his lips for a kiss. Once he’s gotten what he wants, he says, “Whatever makes you happy, darling. Let me know if the shades aren’t right. Now, how much garlic is too much garlic?”

The next day you get numerous compliments on your new makeup and it makes you smile to yourself at your desk throughout the day. You aren’t even thinking about the huge breakout on your chin anymore. 

Two

You and Joshua regularly go to the gym together. You have a routine. A little bit of cardio and a little bit of weights. Nothing too intense. He doesn’t need it because of the hours of dance practice he puts in already. And you aren’t a fan of the gym in the first place, but you know it’s good for you so you suffer through the workout at least a few times a week. 

He turns off the treadmill next to you and glances at you. This is usually the signal to move on. He raises an eyebrow when you don’t stop jogging. “Twenty minutes are up, darling.”

“I think I’m going to just do cardio today. No weights.” Your breath comes out in short bursts from exertion.

“Oh,” he says. He’s a little disappointed. He likes working out with you and spotting you. And he doesn’t need to do anymore cardio today. “Any reason in particular?”

“I put on a few pounds.” You say it so simply, so casually, but it makes him frown. “Don’t worry, I’ll stop when you’re ready to go home.”

He knows it’s no use arguing. That doesn’t stop him from rushing through his reps and even skipping a few exercises altogether. He doesn’t want you to over-exert yourself if he takes too long. You look a little weak as you two leave the gym. After a warm shower for both of you, Joshua sits next to you on the couch, pulling your legs up into his lap, kneading the muscles lightly. You wince and sigh ever now and then and he can’t help but say something. “Darling, you know you don’t have to put yourself through that in the gym. I love you and your body the way you are.” 

You frown up at him. “It’s just a few pounds.”

He frowns back, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. “Darling, think about what I do for work. I know it’s never just a few pounds, because it will never feel like enough. Promise me you’ll be gentle with yourself, okay?”

You nod, but he’s not convinced that you mean it. The next day he insists that you both skip the gym and go for a walk instead. 

Three

Joshua is out shopping with you because you’ll be attending an event with him and need an outfit. He’s sitting on one of the benches in the private dressing room. You’ve been in there for a while and he has yet to see anything you took into the room with you. “Are you okay in there?” 

“Yeah.” It’s not convincing and he stands up coming to the door, knocking lightly. 

“Come on, darling. Show me what you’ve got so far,” he says gently.  He hears a huff and the door swings open. He thinks you look stunning but you’re frowning at him. 

“Joshua, none of these are really my style.”

His eyes drift up and down before landing on your little pout. “Y/N, you look incredible in this. What don’t you like about it?” 

You turn to the mirror in the dressing room, turning this way and then that way. Your hand lands on your stomach. He feels so, so sad when he watches you suck in your stomach a bit. “It’s just a little too tight,” you finally say. 

He steps into the dressing room, arms wrapping around your waist, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. “Darling, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, you know that. But you do look beautiful in this.”

You’re still frowning, looking at the other dresses hanging on the hook by the door. They’re all equally tight and he knows none of them will make you comfortable. With some finality, he kisses you one more time before taking all of the hangers from the hook. “Stay here. I’ll ask the consultant for some other styles.” 

Half an hour later, he smiles at you as you spin in a different dress. It’s got ruching and a small bow around the waist, disguising and distracting from the part that had you so upset earlier. “What do you think?” He asks hopefully. 

You’re doing the same tests and angles as earlier and he lets you. He can tell you’re a little relieved by what you see and he’s relieved to see that the little pinch between your eyebrows isn’t so prominent. “I think this one will work. What do you think?” 

“You could wear a trash bag and you’d be beautiful. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

While waiting for the consultant to ring up the dress, you press a kiss to his cheek and say thank you. He knows what you mean - it’s not about paying for the dress, though that’s surely part of it, but rather the patience he had for your selection process. Still, he simply says, “Of course.” 

Four

You’ve been quiet all night at said event. At first he chalks it up to your shyness. You aren’t in the industry and the cameras and media make you anxious. He lets you ride it out, holding your hand or wrapping his arm around you every opportunity he has. You know the members that are present and it seems to ease you a bit too. 

In the car on the way home, he starts to chalk it up to you being tired. It’s been a long week for you and these events would zap all of the energy out of anyone, but particularly if you aren’t used to it. Inside the house, he helps you out of your heels and dress, and into some pajamas. You both have a routine after things like this. He sits you on the bathroom counter and stands between your legs. It’s his turn first to take off his makeup. You gently cleanse his face and then it’s your turn. 

He knows something’s up for sure when you don’t crack a smile at the silly headband he puts on you. Once your face is clean, he kisses your nose and peers down at you when your lips barely turn up at the gesture. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“Do you wish I looked like them?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Like who?”

You twist the string of his hoodie to avoid looking at him. “Like the idols you work with.” He’s silent, gritting his teeth a bit. “They’re all so pretty and polished. I’m nothing like that.”

He scoffs. “That’s it. You have to stop talking about my girlfriend like that.” You glance up at him in surprise. He’s always so gentle with you, but frustration bleeds into his tone. “You’ve been talking so poorly about yourself lately. Tell me everything that’s bothering you so I can either help you fix it or put your mind at ease.” 

“What’s there to fix, Joshua? Nothing would ever make me look like that.”

“Exactly. I want you to look like you.” He gives you a kiss, like he’s trying to pour all of his affection for you into it. “Be nice to my girlfriend, please. I love her too much to hear things like that, okay?” 

You feel a little bit of emotion bubble up and you lean into his chest. “I love you too.” You mean it. You know he’d do anything to help you and maybe you should start asking.

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.228 thoughts

[Father Time Looks GNC AF]

(Topics: character analysis - Feng/Time/Yusai, thematic analysis - age/unity, predictions - Justice/War)

As I predicted, we've moved away from Gina vs. Change to focus on someone else's capstone; in this case, Shen and Mui's. Also as I predicted, Feng makes his reappearance to both get his own capstone and to provide narrative context for Shen's

The best part about this development, though, is that it didn't wrap up in one chapter! In fact, this chapter was almost entirely exposition, discussing the thematic relevance of each of the Master Rule's to God's game, with only a small portion of it furthering the cast's narratives

In other words, this chapter slowed down the pacing! I predicted that each Master Rule fight and their associated character developments would happen in one chapter each to time the ending for January, so if one of those fights is taking two or more chapters?

It's definitely possible that the Xiang family story is just taking priority over, say, Yusai's story, and every chapter that this one gets is being taken from another, but at the moment that's just pessimistic thinking and doesn't mesh with how much attention Tozuka is giving the individual fights. Admittedly, skipping straight to Phase 3 for Justice without seeing the rest of the fight is a bad sign for Yusai, but Tozuka did the same thing for Billy/Tella's fight with War, which he's definitely going to delve more into, so I'm not willing to give up on Yusai just yet

Plus, the mere fact that Justice made it to Phase 3 gives us a little insight into how the fight's been going so far

Make My Monster Grow

Generally, UMAs enter their next Phases by consuming their Rule: Spoil ate his spoiled zombies, Summer ate fuel for his fireworks, Beast absorbed the souls of animals, Language accumulated languages in her game. Yet somehow, it went over my head at first that Time was literally stealing Shen's time; as Shen aged, Time got younger

This also retroactively explained for me what happened to Change last week - her shape was changed by Gina cutting her in half, so she was able to take on and incorporate that change into herself. She basically said that herself, but again, it didn't quite sink in

In War's case, all we need to know is that the battle up to now was violent. Every attack, every bullet fired, every drop of blood spilled empowered War. We know that they're fighting, so we didn't really need to see the battle that led up to War powering up to understand why it happened or how that theme ties into Billy and Tella's characters once we get to their chapter(s)

Justice is pretty similar, in that all we need to understand is that Yusai is fighting with her own sense of justice. The more she does what she thinks is right, the more determined she is to uphold her honor, the stronger Justice becomes. Just like Yusai nearly allowed herself to starve to death to save her village when Undraw manifested, she allowed herself to come to harm by trapping Justice's blade in her body. For the greater good, Yusai is always willing to sacrifice herself - that is her justice. She may not have gotten a lot of analysis or depth so far, but that bit of characterization can easily be wrapped up in one more chapter

At the very least, justice has been such a major theme this whole time that I would be shocked if we don't get a full chapter dedicated to the fight, even if Julia or someone else comes in to back Yusai up and takes some of the spotlight

However, that's something we can worry about later - this week we're focusing on a different recurring theme

Doesn't Work Like it Used To

Once again, Tozuka is revisiting one of his old favorites: Age as Proof of a Life Lived

In this case, the progenitor of the very concept, Time, is espousing a very different take on the matter. As he says, even without killing them, time makes people ineffectual and necessitates that they let someone else take up their mantle. Indeed, no matter how much experience you accumulate, how many memories you make, your body will one day betray you, and what once came to you with ease will demand a great deal of effort and pain

Whereas the rest of the series has focused on the value of time, how every previous moment builds up and contributes to the present self, Time's philosophy is the opposite, that every previous moment was spent and lost on the way to the present. Where the rest of the cast would appreciate the wisdom of age, Time considers the aged to have run out of value, finite like sand in an hourglass

But like every other Rule so far, his thinking is hypocritical and stops short of the whole truth

Like a Fine Wine

While Time is right that a person's time is a limited resource, that they will one day lose the capacity to perform and need to step aside for younger generations to take their place, he's completely wrong about the elderly lacking purpose

He tells Shen and Mui to give up because they're aging, that soon they'll become elderly, but even by his metrics, they hadn't yet. They still had time left to make whatever difference they could. They weren't idling and wasting away the time they had left, they were fighting tooth and nail to defeat the enemy in front of them, and what did it get them?

It gave Feng enough time to figure out how to fight Time

In a blatant reversal of roles, the currently much younger Feng is being entrusted with the battle because Shen is no longer capable of fighting, and the lessons that came with Shen aging will be applied by Feng. The young learn from the old; that is the purpose of the elderly, not to stand aside for the young, but to teach them how to reach old age

And that is the truth that Feng has learned as well

A Garden You'll Never Get to See

Feng's character has always been centered around achieving peak individual strength; besting others with his own power, being objectively superior when compared to others, and continuously improving without ever stagnating or regressing. However, no matter how strong Feng became physically, there was always one factor that he was missing that would prevent him from becoming the strongest: strength of character

Feng is a man who's defined by fear and insecurity; the fear of becoming lesser, of being alone, of being forgotten. In L100, Feng lamented that he had lost his power in his age, that his finite sand had drained away and he'd become ineffectual, so he desperately searched for a way to refill the hourglass and regain what he'd lost. He didn't value the years he'd spent refining his art, he resented the toll that those years collected from his body; Feng's time was not an investment, it was a tax, and one he would see returned no matter what

L101 Feng, on the other hand, never paid that tax at all. Instead, he watched as everyone around him who he had once considered an equal paid it. He watched as they slowly faded away, replaced with new faces he didn't recognize. But the truly painful thing wasn't that the people he knew vanished: it was that the last thing he saw from each of them was a smile. The tax man came to collect, and they gave their time happily? Unfathomable. All of their efforts had amounted to nothing, none of them could compete with him anymore, and now they won't even last long enough to see their pupils possibly match him. What the hell do they have to be happy about?!

But that's exactly what they have to be happy about. They couldn't compete anymore, but they knew that their pupils could, and that even if they failed to prove a match for Feng, they would surely be able to raise the next generation to do so. They were aging, yes, but they used what time they had left to pass on everything they'd learned to the youth, investing their remaining value in someone else

And they could do that because they had the strength of character to accept their fate

They were unafraid of the future and secure in the knowledge that everything they had worked for would be passed on; that their legacies would only become greater, would be shared, would be remembered. Though their bodies may die, their souls would live on through their techniques passed down through the generations

Feng learned this lesson firsthand when he died fighting Language, that his eventual death would not simply be the cessation of his life, but the impetus for further growth in his legacy. The memory of Feng will have its own unique impact on Shin Hakkyoku's development, but that will never come to be so long as Feng himself lingers; if he doesn't entrust it to someone else, then just as he feared and just like his unaging body, his art will stagnate

Therefore, the key to strength is not found in the individual, but in the collective, which happens to also be the secret to winning God's game

Life is Not a Single Player Game

As Time says, all of the Master Rules past Death were created to incentivize individualism; Changing people to be different from each other, giving individuals greater or lesser Luck, giving individuals different senses of Justice, Wars over protecting self-interest, etc. Sun created all of these Rules to introduce hardship and strife among humanity, instructing each of them to use their Rules to make humanity suffer

In other words: when individuals act solely in their own interest, all of humanity suffers

The Rules force humanity to act as individuals, a house divided amongst itself, so that they will not band together and ruin Sun's fun

And Feng fell for it

In L100, elder Feng gave into the panic that Time induces and came to resent that his time had passed. In L101, young Feng panicked as he watched everyone else's time pass. In both cases, he clung desperately to his own strength, either to prove that he hadn't lost it or to justify that he was the only one who still had it. In both cases, he was willing to throw away everyone else, every connection he had, to hold onto the individuality he had built for himself, for once everyone else was gone, that individuality was all he had at all

But that's not how the game is played

The Quests have participant requirements for a reason. They incentivize the Negators to work together, to band together to stand against enemies and challenges they have no hope of defeating alone

Even the Rules don't exist in a vacuum. Every Rule is tied together, a delicate balancing act that literally helps the world turn, like Summer's heat and Winter's cold, and the same is true of Negators. Undead and Unluck synergize amazingly well; Unseen's true power comes from borrowing the eyes of friends; Unfair only exists in the context of others

Sun's side of the bet was that humanity could never reach the Gods, and to prove it he gave them every reason to squabble amongst themselves. Luna's side was that humanity could, and gave them the tools to come together and put aside their differences; to form a Union

Of all of the Negators we've met, only two have resisted that Union: Feng and Ruin. But even Ruin has Blood and Shadow; he never needed to learn the lesson of unity, he already had, he just applied it to the UMA instead of humanity. But Feng? He was the final holdout, the only one who still didn't want to believe that the path of the individual was wrong

But now he knows. Maybe he met the previous Unfades when he died and learned from them what kind of legacy he was hoarding for himself, or maybe Fuuko's words finally sank in after seeing Shen and Nico's respective growth. It doesn't really matter what prompted it, what matters is Feng has accepted the truth and has chosen to stop clinging to himself and start giving of himself to those next in line

And of course, the one he chooses to give his spot to is one he acknowledged as a worthy rival

Passing the Torch

You can actually see the moment when Mui inherits Unfade: as Shen and Mui declare that they will always protect each other, Mui's panel has the subtle but unmistakable black smoke that signals the manifestation of a Negator ability. From that point on, once we see that Shen has aged to a wrinkled and spindly-armed geriatric, we don't see Mui's face again until the reveal. This will probably carry over a little better in animated form, as Shen will likely be shown aging in real time, but that was the moment that Mui ceased to age

From a lore perspective, this moment is fascinating because not only does it show that one person can be granted a different Negator ability between Loops, but also that the holder of an ability doesn't need to die to pass it on! Some folks believe that Feng had actually already given Unfade to Mui when he died in the Language fight, but again, we literally see Mui manifest it during this fight, and Feng himself is established as one of the foremost masters of the soul, so it's not hard to imagine that he learned how to transfer that aspect of the soul into someone else

From a narrative perspective, this completes Feng's character arc, as not only has he finally embraced his age and allowed someone else to carry on his legacy, but he's also done so through someone he once tried to kill for the sake of his own growth. In L100, Feng tried to use Mui's death to inspire growth in Shen, which would in turn allow Feng to become stronger, but now it's the opposite. Now Feng is risking his own life to make Mui stronger, so that she and Shen can pass on the strength that Feng had cultivated together

Every facet of Feng's character that had once been so antithetical to all of UU's themes has now completely flipped. By giving Unfade to Mui, Feng ensures that she won't lose any more of the strength he saw in her, and knows that through her connection with Shen, the both of them will become stronger as a collective, which will allow them to overcome Time, Feng's true eternal enemy

Feng may or may not die during this fight, but either way, he is going to become old again, as he was always meant to. His time will be taken from him, and his body will fail him. But his sand is not simply flowing away, a tax paid for his own life; each grain is being laid carefully and thoughtfully in place to build upon the last, to create something bigger and better

Time views life as an hourglass, draining until empty, but as I said, Time is wrong. Life is not an hourglass, it's a sandcastle. It may not be pretty, and it won't last forever, but it will have been built all the same. So long as we enjoy building it, then even once it crumbles, the memories of how we built it and who we built it with will never fade

Until next time

Let's enjoy life

[neurodivergent-fox-demon]

Day 4 - Fall Activities

Eli laughed as he tore apart a piece of garlic bread. “So you went to the Jungle to look for Uncle Jackson and ended up surrounded by drag queens?”

“Yep. They kind of adopted me.” Stiles sighed, jerking his shoulders. “They are a great group of people. That is also the night I tried to tell your grandfather that I was questioning my sexuality but he did not believe me.”

Eli smirked. “Bet he believed you when you married Da.”

“That he did.” Stiles hummed, looking around the small restaurant. They were the only people there and it looked like the staff was trying to close up. “Let's go for a walk.”

Eli nodded, gazing around the table. He had not realized how late it had gotten. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t you get me home?”

He raised an eyebrow at his son. “Do you have a curfew I don’t know about?”

“No, Da believes that I’m old enough to make my own decisions about how late I stay out. But I don’t like making him worry.” Eli smiled at him.

Stiles nodded. “We’ll give him a call. I want to spend a little longer with you.” he ran a hand over his face as he guided his son from the restaurant. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Eli thought for a moment. He had always had a completely open relationship with his fathers. “Well, I’m a gender nonconformist and I’m asexual. I signed up to compete in the drag competition at this year's harvest festival.”

Stiles chuckled softly. “That sounds like a lot of fun.“ He let out a long breath as they walked down the street. “Not that I’m not 100% supportive, but what does gender nonconformist mean?”

Eli laughed loudly. “Just that I don’t prescribe to societal norms on what a person of a gender should act. I like wearing dresses as much as I like jeans. I like cooking and playing rugby. I hate lacrosse, by the way.”

“Oh, hell, I‘ve know that since you were four and wanted a tinkerbell costume for Halloween.” Stiles laughed. He frowned at his son, shaking his head. “Where did I go wrong? Hating lacrosse should be a mortal sin.”

“I’m no good at it, papa.” Eli groaned. “Unless I use my werewolf strengths, which seems unfair.”

“I’m kidding, Eli.” Stiles smiled. “I wasn’t very good at the sport either. It took being bitten for your uncle Scott to gain any skill at the sport.”

Eli nodded, letting out a long sigh. “I’ve missed you, papa. I’m glad you are moving back to Beacon Hills even if you aren’t reconnecting with Da.”

Stiles sighed, shaking his head. “I’m not sure I can ever fully forgive your father for what happened, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m punishing you for his actions.” He scratched at his beard. “Eli, I’m not angry that your father sacrificed himself for you. I would have done the exact same thing.” He stopped to look into his son’s eyes. “I’m upset because he put himself in that position in the first place, neglected to call me and then gave you to Scott instead of leaving you with your family.” He let out a breath. “He essentially took you away from me. I know it’s been 3 years but it feels like yesterday.”

Eli pulled his father into a hug, letting out a breath. “Why did you never talk to me? You just left.”

Stiles chuckled through a fresh batch of tears. “I did not want to put you in the middle of me and your father. And I figured if your father could discard me so easily, I shouldn’t be here. So, I left.”

Eli shook his head. He really did not want to argue with Stiles. Their night was going so well. “But I needed you here. Do you know how much therapy I needed after the nogitsune? Add losing both of my parents to that. Da died, and you abandoned me.”

Stiles sat in the snow, looking up at his son. “I can never express how I am sorry for my part in all of that crap. I never wanted to live in this town, Eli. I begged your father to come to DC with me and he refused. But I still should not have left you. That is all on me.” He chewed his lip and sighed. “I’d understand if you never forgive me.”

Eli sat next to him, looking up at the stars. “I understand that Beacon Hills sucks, but life is shitty everywhere, papa. Uncle Liam went all the way to Japan with Hikari, and they were still attacked by Mr. Harris.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, I still can’t believe that asshole is still alive.” He threw an arm over Eli’s shoulder. “How did you get so wise?”

“Buffy the Vampire Slayer, mostly. You know Uncle Peter is obsessed with the show?” Eli laughed. “But in all honesty, lots of therapy.” He sighed, thinking. “I wanted to hate you for leaving but you never failed to come back anytime I called. It honestly never made sense; you were traveling back and forth.”

“It didn’t need to make sense, Eli. The only thing that ever mattered to me was your safety and happiness.” Stiles sighed. “I’d do anything for you.” He thought for a moment and then pulled a single key from his pocket. “This is yours.”

Eli frowned, taking the key. “What is this for? Grandpa already gave me the jeep.”

Stiles laughed. “Because we got tired of you stealing it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I bought a small apartment grouping. There are only three units and this key is for yours.”

Eli, shook his head. “Why?”

“Several reasons.” He smiled. “You’re an adult now. You are graduating in half a year and you’ll be going to college. So you’ll be wanting your own space. These apartments will be under your name, so it’s a good investment.”

“What if I don’t want to invest in apartments?” Eli frowned.

Stiles smirked. “Then the ownership reverts back to me, and I’ll just put the money in your trust fund.” He pushed the hair from Eli’s face. “You’re an adult now, and honestly much more responsible than I ever was. I trust you can make your own choices here but for now, you have a place you can escape to.”

Eli hugged him tight. “Thank you, papa.”

“You’re welcome.” Stiles smiled into his shoulder.

🐺

Eli walked into his house and smiled at Derek who was sitting at the fire reading a book. “Hey, Da. What are still doing up.”

Derek looked up from his book. “Couldn’t sleep. I’m kind of itching in my own skin.” He stood up, looking over Eli. “Why are you wet?”

“Papa and I kind of laid in the snow.” He shrugged , holding up the key. “Did you know he bought me an apartment?”

“Yeah, he told me.” Derek chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “That's why he was so upset with Peter.”

“What did uncle Peter do this time?” Eli frowned.

Derek chuckled. “Your uncle decided to make sure that all the properties that Stiles looked at were his. Then sold it to him way below market value.” His ears turned pink as he shook his head. “So stiles bought the property with family money, making it look like money laundering.”

Eli started laughing loudly. “When will those two stop fucking with each other?”

“Watch your mouth.” Derek frowned. “And probably never. They enjoy the back and forth too much.” He patted his son on the shoulder. “Get in dry clothes and go to bed. I’ll lock up the house.”

Eli nodded heading up the stairs.

🐺

Lydia stepped into the Washington DC apartment with Stiles. “Wow.” She sighed. “There is nothing here, Stiles. It’s so impersonal.”

Stiles shrugged, placing his few boxes on the table. “I never really saw the point. I went to work and came home. Occasionally I went to visit Isaac in Paris or I went home to visit Eli. All my important possessions are with my dad or Eli.”

Lydia nodded as she began packing dishes. “How bad is it, Stiles?”

“Hmmm?” Stiles frowned as he dug suits out of his small closet. “How bad is what?”

“You’re sick Stiles. I’m not sure how yet, but I can feel it.” Lydia sighed. She had been wanting to ask Stiles about it all week but they had not really been in a good place yet.

Stiles groaned, shaking his head. “It’s nothing a little fresh air can’t fix. I just… all the fighting took a lot out of me. The doctors say I have extreme PTSD. It affected my ability to judge how much alcohol I intook and that affected the health of my liver.”

Lydia sighed, shaking her head. “Dammit, Stiles. You should have come home sooner.” She chewed her lip. “And how long have you been sober?”

Stiles laughed. “Two months. I’m going to be alright.” He pulled a chip from his pocket and tossed it to Lydia. “ I was really good at hiding it. I’ve always been good at hiding things.”

Lydia nodded, looking over the sobriety chip. “Do you have a sponsor back home?”

“Not yet but I’ll find a group.” Stiles shrugged.

“Do Eli and Derek know?” Lydia asked, tilting her head as she handed the chip back to Stiles.

“No, and I really don’t want them to.” He sighed, turning back toward the closet. “My dad knows and they have me on all sorts of medications to deal with the PTSD and depression.”

Lydia laid a hand on his shoulder. “You have to at least tell Eli, Stiles. He deserves to know.”

Stiles shook his head. “What good will it do? He shouldn’t have to worry about me. It’s my job to worry about him.”

“I don’t have an answer for you.” Lydia sighed. “At least you’re coming home.” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail as she got back to work. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Anytime, Lydia.” He sighed and dug through the closet. He really did not have much but it felt cathartic to pack up this era of his life.

🐺

Peter walked into the house and smiled as he watched Eli. “You should be at the auto shop.”

Eli shrugged. “Malia and I switched shifts. I’m supposed to meet papa at the new apartment in an hour.” He leaned against the counter, pursing his lips. “Why did you help papa get the complex anyway?”

Peter shrugged, sitting at the island. “As I told him, I want to take care of my family. Stiles is not doing too well right now and he needs to be back here with us.” He watched his nephew make a sandwich. “He needs his family and he can’t get that in the capital.”

Eli nodded, looking at the food in front of him. “Why sell him the property so cheaply instead of giving it to him? You’ll get eaten by the taxes.”

Peter smirked. “I know him very well. He would not have taken it. Your father is a proud man, and I have no shame.” He chuckled.

Eli rolled his eyes in typical Hale fashion. “I’m just so confused. Why now and not three years ago?”

“You’ll have to ask Stiles about that. That is not my story to tell.” Peter cleared his throat and lit a cigarette.

“I never get a straight from any of you.” He grumbled as he finished his sandwich. “You always seem to know everything about everyone. How do you manage it?”

“Ah, dear nephew, that is the question. Isn’t it?” Peter chuckled. “That was my job in Talia’s pack, and it has become second nature to me. Keeping secrets is my greatest talent. One day you’ll find a second and that will be his job, keeping your secrets.”

“Papa’s right.” Eli frowned. “You treat our family like the mafia.”

Peter smirked. “A pack is remarkably similar. We hide in the shadows, keep the area safe, make deals with neighboring families, and kill only if we really need to. I may have taken that last point to extreme, once upon a time.”

Eli, chuckled. “That is an understatement. You tried to kill Kate, uncle Chris, and a shit load of other hunters.”

“Yes, well, they set my family on fire. I was out of my mind.” Peter raised a brow at him. “Did your fathers ever tell you how they stopped me?”

“Yeah, malitolve cocktail and they ripped your throat out.” Eli nodded, taking a bite from his sandwich. “You were dead like what, two weeks?”

Peter bobbed his head side to side. “About. And Stiles has not stopped calling me Zombie Wolf since.” He smiled. “And since he threw that cocktail at me, he has not stopped fighting.” He put the cigarette out. “Give Stiles a bit of slack. He’ll let you know that part of himself eventually.”

Eli nodded, raising his brow. “Is that why you’re here?”

Peter nodded. “I’m sure your father has mentioned once or twice that I stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.” He chuckled. “Honestly, how does everyone put up with me.”

“I have no idea.” Eli snarked.

[triglycercule]

ok so there's murder time trio where theyre best buddies and get along and sometimes even having more than just platonic interactions. and then there's also the murder time trio where they genuinely just don't like each other and avoid each other and do NOT get along and to me there's just a VERY clear timeline of events that could connect these two group dynamics. like these 2 could coexist,,,,,,

nightmare's fresh outta his little corruption sequence and he needs his henchmen. goes out and gathers the obvious three killer horror and dust (does it really matter how he got them??? kidnapping or not the trio will warm up to him). its his first time having to deal with mentally unstable grown up mortal men and he really has no idea how to manage the team so he lets them have some slack. spoils em a bit yk yk stops fights allows them to hang out allows em to screw around the castle even COMFORTS them,,,, shocking i know (a slightly nice nightmare interpretation from triglycercule? UNFATHOMABLE!!!!)

this killer's fresh outta something new so he's still kinda curious and nosy. he hasnt seen the multiverse and especially not interacted with nightmare/horrordust so he's kinda more outgoing and friendly (ish. to get to know better everyone and satisfy the curiosity of seeing what reactions and feelings these fellas could give him.) bc killer's not that much of a prick and horror and dust would naturally SLIGHTLY get along (and if in the right environment be good buddies. which is nm's lenience and killer's not shittiness) the mtt actually get along pretty well and are good buds!! like the first group dynamic i mentioned where the bad sanses are just kinda like a friend group except they have some weird work relations

and then a fight breaks out and nightmare kills either dust or horror (what about??? anything!) likely dust first because he's more likely to be wary of nm (if kidnapped) and also because he's just kinda more actively righteous compared to horror (who likely wouldn't do much against nm) or killer (does not give a shit.) dust dies, horror likely dies defending dust and that just leaves the og killer and nightmare

nightmare is like "oh shit i just killed my workers". he'll take like a week to ponder what he did and then completely move on (because hes an ass like that.) nightmare gets another horror and dust to replace the ones he killed. and killer is just like wtf how do i deal with this. the guys i were kinda friends were are dead but their copies are right here. like he knew copies existed in the utmv but he didn't think nightmare was so willing to replace them so fast???

this killer's still adapting to the multiverse and stuff (it probably hasn't even been a year since he got snatched up!!!) and yeah hes aware that copies exist and he could get replaced by one but he didn't think that it would LITERALLY HAPPEN RIGHT BEFORE HIS EYES. so he decides to stick more around nm and avoid getting replaced like the og dust and horror because it really just hammers in the point that he's kinda useless if he speaks out like those 2. hes avoidant of the new replacements as well bc hes still new to this experience and is getting used to the whole implications of two guys that were once him and he was friends with died and got replaced by basically the same person

but they still have to work together for obvious reasons. and even if killer's avoiding horror and dust they probably aren't avoiding each other and probably are like wary friends/acquaintances. and naturally killer HAS to become okay worker buddy pals with them because hes stuck living with them. nightmare's a lot stricter and cold to avoid something like dust's rebellion against him happening again. mtt are wary of each other (mostly towards killer. horrordust are pals and killer's kinda growing more apathetic to the duo because he's already experienced a lot of the stuff before with the og two that died.) but theyre still "friends" you could say

and then perchance maybe horror and dust decide to let killer in on a lil secret theyve been cooking up. theyre planning to escape (kidnapped DUH. and nm isn't as nice as he was to og horrordust to warrent them to wanna stay) and even though they don't really trust killer theyre still letting him in on the plan and offer for him to come with them because they lowkey feel bad for him and he's really not all that bad under all the bullshit

but killer saw what happened to the og dust and horror so he says no. and the night that the duo are planning to escape he just has this overwhelming sense of dread. the next morning he wakes up to nightmare standing over his bed with a cold glare telling him of horror and dust's attempted escape and death and killer just kinda. sighs. his dread was right (he was lowkey hoping that they could escape so they didn't die like the original 2)

and then the cycle repeats. previous dust or horror or both die to nightmare or some random outside force or escape (because it has to happen eventually right??) and the pair keep getting replaced. killer keeps witnessing their deaths and replacements and at this point he's just so used to it that he doesn't even TRY to interact with the new horrors and dusts. theyre not even like real people that are getting killed and replaced like robots to him anymore they're just distant coworkers that get fired and then a new one comes to take up the position

each new dust or horror is icked out by nightmare and killer. nightmare is incredibly cold and intimidating and dictatorial and just sucks in general. and killer gives them this distant look. like he knows something they dont. he's already proven to them that he knows that they should obey nightmare and how to deal with the king and they know he's been here longer than them but even when he's not with nightmare or not talking about him they get the blank stare

sometimes when a nicer replacement of horror decides to do something nice for killer like make him a meal he just gives him that look and declines (there's already been countless different horrors that tried doing nice stuff for him. it's not new and nice in his eyes anymore.) maybe when a dust replacement gets irked by killer's apathy and decides to try and say something that'll bother him or snoop through his personal stuff killer will just walk away or kick him out of his room with that creepy ass blank stare again (it's not the first time a dust has tried to rile him up. it's not new or interesting and just predictable)

killer just doesn't CARE about the new horrors and dusts. they're all pretty much the same two guy except maybe a bit nicer or meaner or quieter or even taller or something?? all he really cares about is is serving nightmares atp, no other outside relationships. and ngl he doesn't even care that much about nightmare either. he's already figured out his thinking he's already figured out all of his likes and dislikes and what not to do to piss him off. the only reason he's still dealing with him is because he doesn't have anything else better to do and he doesn't wanna be useless to the one guy that he's served all this time

he's just kinda stuck in an empty boring limbo that killer's only maintaining due to a lack of motivation and any other priorities. and personally i just think this bad sans dynamic is lowkey tragic because like killer keeps witnessing all these guys that he used to be friends or enemies or rivals or whatever with and they just keep dying or leaving him behind. not one ever stays for THAT long (because no wayyyy a dust or horror would take being under a cruel nightmare well) and it's given him this idea that none of these people matter (aside from the important one which is nm) because they're just gonna leave me and the connections ill have formed with them will be for nothing so why even try being vulnerable and friendly and interacting with these cheap copies of the guys i USED to be friends with

[kath-artic]

today has instilled a new zest for life in me. oh god things could be so so much worse!

[deadtime-stories]

[elizzsush]

Beastmen Courting Rituals | TWST

Savanaclaw Dorm X Reader

Leona X Reader, Ruggie X Reader, Jack X Reader,

---- BeastFolk typically have instinctual ways they begin 'courting' or a relationship, some even taught from a young age certain courting rituals. (Non-Human courting rituals part 1/3)

Note: Fun fact, I began making Fae courting first but then I posted the future kid thing and didn't want to post two Diasomnia so close together!

Octavinelle Ver | Diasomnia Ver.

Jack:

It started very small, one day he was there, the next he was there again, and the next he was also there.

He was always there.

Then it got a bit... weird? You noticed that when he would approach you, he was making this grumbling, whining sounds? You don't even think he realized it. You chose to ignore this fact for now, maybe it was just because he was a beast man? You didn't want to be rude by saying anything- or make him feel embarrassed.

After that he began to help you with your hair more as well. Well, your general appearance. He'd help you fix your uniform and brush off any dust or anything you'd may want or need help with. In turn you helped him back, it was only fair after all!

Never mind his flushed face while you did this, moving small hairs back in place and picking any particles off his own uniform.

"There's our dynamic pair! beauty and the beast man." Ace teased, a confident grin on his face while you sat down at the table, Jack not too far behind you.

Jack just rolled his eyes, a small blush on his face as he ignored Ace. Aka, while he did the smart thing to do. You, however, have yet to learn that Despite so many months of friendship and raised an eyebrow at the Card boy. "What are you talking about." You rolled your eyes at the boy.

"You don't know? but it's so obvious!" Ace frowned, Grim nodding beside him in agreement, though you doubted he even knew what the boy was talking about. "His tail is always wagging like a fan when he's talking to ya! He's totally in l-" just as Ace was about to finish speaking Jack piped up, his ears straight on his head in an alert manner and his tail stiff behind him.

"I didn't get anything to drink when we got food." He excused himself, you tried to get a look at his face because he wasn't looking at you but he didn't look back and stood up.

Glancing at his tray, you didn't fail to notice the milk carton on it. Plush, Jack was always the prepared, diligent one. That was so odd... You glanced back at Ace only to find him laughing to himself like the funniest thing just happened. "Whatever, where is Deuce?" You rolled your eyes.

"Why should I know? I'm not his mom."

After that, Ace started calling you dense. Maybe you were because you really didn't know what the hell he was talking about.

After that it was like there was a switch in Jack. He began to be touchier, not that you minded of course! Cuddling with friends is always nice, and you liked to think it was because of his more... animalistic features and instincts he was cuddlier.

But somehow it felt more intimate. He'd nuzzle his face into your neck and hang off of you like he was a coat instead of a large man who was... well jacked.

You'd often wrestle him off of you because he had gotten into the habit of, as you said before, hanging off of you! He'd whine and almost instinctually wrestle you back to stay into his place.

You may not be as strong as him, but you also didn't hate the way he'd run with you at P.E. You knew he could easily run laps around everyone, but instead he stuck with you. Smiling at you exhausted look and cheering you on. "I'm sure Coach Vargas wouldn't mind us taking a break?" He laughs a bit awkwardly after you glared at him for suggesting it when he barely even broke a sweat.

It wasn't till after Leona off Handly mentioned something about you smelling like Jack. Even wrinkling his nose and saying that he "didn't have to lay it on that thick." That you started to think, maybe, just maybe, something else was going on here.

So, you went to the library. Got yourself your very own book (that you had to return in two weeks) on Beastfolk Mating rituals.

Suddenly, it made sense why Ace thought you were dense. Apparently, this was commonish knowledge in this world! And maybe you were ignoring pretty obvious signs now that you thought about it.

So, one afternoon when Jack was hanging off of you, that look in his eyes you hadn't noticed till now. You bit his hand. His ears straightened in surprise and he looked at you for a moment. A thick blush on his face.

"Am I dense or are you courting me?" You finally asked now that you had his attention.

"I have been for a while now..." He sheepishly admitted while not looking you in the eye.

____________

Ruggie:

He avoided you like the plague, at first.

Even now, sometimes when he's approaching you, you noticed that he might backtrack and hesitate.

Now he is a lot more relaxed, often hanging off of your shoulder. Now that he knows you won't bite his head off. His tail would wag behind him slightly while he interacted with you. A stark contrast to the stiff, alert eared boy he was just a little while ago!

You will say though, it did take some of your lunches to get here. You'd equate this process to that of getting a scared cat to approach you with treats. Now, you didn't even need the treats to get him around! He'd approach you first now too. Still with hesitance, but once he did come up to you he did seem to enjoy himself.

"He loved hanging off of you and cuddling up to you. He was very handsy, (Like most beast men, you'd later learned) His face often nuzzled into the nook of your neck. "He loved hanging off of you and cuddling up to you. He was very handsy, (Like most beast men, you'd later learned) His face often nuzzled into the nook of your neck.

"It's so weird to see a Ruggie-Senpai hang out with you so much." Deuce said off handedly one afternoon. You two were studying together when he thought of this.

"What do you mean?" You couldn't help but ask the card solider. Putting your pen down as you looked at him curiously.

The boy just shrugged, a odd look on his face. "I don't know, I just thought Hyena beast men were more... You know." he added a bit awkwardly. You decided to drop it there.

"Yeah... Anyway, I think I remember-"

The interaction stood out in your head, however. What exactly did Deuce even mean? After that interaction, you noticed a couple things as well. Beast students would look at you and nodded at you in recognition? Leona's nose would scrunch up a bit when you spoke to him (though he never made any comments on it), and when you walked into Savanaclaw a beast guy once mistook you for Ruggie before he looked at you?

What did any of that even mean?! When you asked Jack, he just said you smelt like Ruggie.

That small interaction you had with Deuce quickly began to send you down a hill of thinking about everything Ruggie ever did! How he hung off of you, and how you two hung out. It got even weirder when Ruggie offered you some food. Like he had been for a while.

This was very out of character for the Hyena boy! How did you not realize it before? So, you asked him about it. "How come you always offer me something when we eat together?"

He blushed a bit looking at you with wide eyes for a moment before shaking his head, "I do that don't I?" he laughed awkwardly, "I mean I bring food home for the neighborhood kids too. We all got to eat; you know?" He shrugged it off. You wondered what that meant, because he didn't do it with anyone else, but you failed to push him on the subject.

Your sad to say, you never fully realized what was happening till someone explained it to you.

He knocked on Ramshackle door with a handful of pretty dandelions and asked you on a date. "Perfect, would you like to um... go out with me?" he asked hesitantly, a nervous smile on his face while he put his head down. Like he was trying to protect his neck...

You said yes and it was after that Leona explained how annoying it was watching you two and basically inadvertently explained everything to you...

"That would have been helpful to know sooner." You grumbled to yourself after talking with the lion.

"Eh? Ignore him shyhehe!~ Ruggie just snickered with his usual sly smile.

____________

Leona:

Leona didn't really have time for games. If he liked, you he'd just come out and say it. At least, that's what you had first thought. Yes, he did use your lap as a pillow and you two did cuddle somewhat regularly. That didn't exactly mean anything. Right?

And yeah, Ruggie did scrunch his nose up and complain that you smelt too much like Leona, but that didn't matter. Leona probably didn't mean to do that; he was probably sleeping.

Did Leona roar at you? Yeah, so what? It was like a yawn; it just came out. No, he wasn't blushing! He couldn't be because you were already looking away in embarrassment.

Leona just didn't like you like that. No matter how many Courting book you read on beast men!

The Lion man in question invited you out to a Spelldrive tournament he had been practicing for. Obviously, you went without a second thought. It would be nice to see the lazy lion not lazing around for once! At least that's how you justified it.

You definitely didn't want to just see your crush play a match.

You couldn't help but notice the whole time, how Leona kept looking at you in your seat. Making sure you had just seen him perform. You'd smile and cheer for him and maybe, just maybe, a sense of pride would build up in his chest.

And maybe it was really nice to hear you cheer, and see you jump up from your seat in excitement. And maybe it was really nice to be able to cheer for him.

So you planned to confess to him after this game. "Leona I really liked you! I have for a while now!" And you did.

"Finally." He yawned and rubbed the back of his neck, you two then went to cuddle in the garden.

Did that mean you two were together now...?

____________

A/N: I know that some dorms aren't like nonhuman, but I can imagine that like Riddle was taught like courting customs in The Queendom of Roses, (Some queen of heart rule) or like the scalding sands have some costumes? Like the world changes because of beastmen/Fae customs and people adapted to that and added it to their own ways of approaching a relationship? Idk lol

Sorry Leona's part was quite short, I was getting tired and just wanted to get this out! But thank you for reading!

[antiwhores]

You accidentally had sex with Bakugou.

You two had fallen asleep in his room after a hang out. You were bestfriends but you had some underlining feelings for him. So when you woke up in the middle of the night to him cuddling you, you almost choked.

You needed to pee really bad so sadly you had to pry yourself out of his arms. When you came back his eyes were cracked open just barely. He mumbled something before opening his arms for you to join him again.

It was out of character, maybe tired Bakugou was just a touchy guy. It couldn’t be more than that.

So you joined him on the bed. You buried your face into his neck. You had to savor this cause most likely this’ll be the last time this happens. Also, you were too tired to freak out. You just wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

You can barely explain what happened after that. He hiked your leg onto him, still with his half open eyes, and thrusted right against your clothed pussy.

The next thing you know, he’s dry humping you. And then he’s fingering you. And finally he’s fucking you.

It felt good, too good.

But the morning after? You felt embarrassed. No way you just fucked him without even a first date. He’s gonna think you’re easy. He might even tell everyone that you are.

Of course, that would never happen but you were panicked. You couldn’t possibly comprehend that the great Dynamight chose you. You weren’t famous. Not a vogue model, a hero, or even wealthy. You had nothing to give him.

He had to be messing with you.

So you slipped out of his hold at 5am sharp and went home.

You fell back to sleep in tears and woke up to several texts and calls. Good thing you had your ringer off.

Bakugou - 6:34am

Where’d you go?

I was gonna make you breakfast dumbass

Bakugou - 6:52

Y/n?

Missed call - 7:00am

Bakugou - 7:30

Is this about last night?

I’ll wait for that call back so we can talk about it.

Missed call - 10:03am

Bakugou - 10:05

Call me and we can talk about it. This ignoring me isn’t gonna make it go away.

Missed call - 11:12

Missed call - 11:26

Missed call - 11-31

Bakugou - 11:40

Fucking call me back, this shit isn’t funny.

You’re so lucky I don’t know where you live yet. I’d be there in 15 minutes if I knew.

You debated calling him back. But your embarrassment and anger stopped you from letting him explain himself. How could he use your feelings against you like that! He probably knew that you liked him and wanted a quick fuck.

You started to cry all over again.

A week passed by with no contact. He sent you the occasional text telling you to talk to him but after the 6th day he seemed to give up. At least you thought that until he showed up at your door.

You opened the door wide without checking who it was since you were expecting a package. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blonde leaning against the doorframe, still in his hero costume. He must’ve just gotten off work, saving civilians and climbing the charts. It was another reminder of how he could never want you.

“You gonna let me in or am I-“

You tried to slam the door in his face but he shoved it back open easily. He let himself in, scanning the place.

“Nice place, ‘don’t see why you hadn’t invited me over.”

Maybe it’s because your small, cosy apartment didn’t compare to his high rise penthouse at the top floor.

You grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out. But he wasn’t having it and didn’t let you move him an inch.

“You need to leave, Bakugou.”

“Wow. Last name basis and I was inside you a week ago.”

“Yeah well that shouldn’t have happened.”

“Okay but it did so let’s fuckin’ talk about it.”

You just wanted him to leave before you bursted out in tears. You shook your head, trying to pull him harder but to no avail. Your lip quivered in frustration as tears welled up in your eyes.

Suddenly, he threw you over his shoulder and set you on the couch.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

You broke down in tears.

You told him everything, every assumption you made and every insecurity. You told him how you liked him but you knew he didn’t like you back. He sat there patiently, not speaking a word until you were done.

He got up with a blank face. You thought he was gonna leave at first but he kneeled down to be eye to eye with you.

“Wanna go on a date?”

It surprised you. It was the last thing he expected you to say.

“I’ll take you on a date and prove to you how much I want you. And for the record, I’ve probably liked you longer than you have me. When we met in that coffee shop I immediately knew you were the one I wanted. ‘S rude of you of you to make assumptions but I’ll let it pass if you go on a date with me.”

You agreed as he wiped off your tears. Who were you to say no?

[augustinewrites]

“what’s on these?” megumi asks, holding up a box of memory cards.

cleaning day always unearthed all types of lost and forgotten items. sometimes it was clothes long forgotten in you and gojo’s closet, other times it was the kid’s old books or toys. you knew every inch of your little apartment, so most times you could identify any mystery items that came up.

“i don’t know,” you hum, plucking a card from the box to inspect it a little more closely. the only hint as to what’s actually on it seems to just be a date.

2006

…and it’s in gojo’s handwriting.

curious, you pop one into the video player and turn on the tv. the kids join you on the couch, clearly eager to entertain any distraction from your cleaning crusade.

when the screen flickers to life, a familiar courtyard comes into view.

you can’t help the gasp when haibara comes into focus…but then you see satoru standing standing across from him, arms spread out.

“who is that?” megumi asks, pointing at haibara.

you think of the bright smile of the boy still lingering in the edges of your memory and tell him, softly, “an old friend.”

“suguru!” gojo shouts, looking towards the person holding the camera. he’s all messy hair and wide smiles, exactly how you remember him in his youth. “make sure you get this one!”

geto grumbles about how he’s paying attention, and suddenly you remember exactly what this is.

“ah, these are from when yaga would make us record ourselves practicing cursed technique application,” you explain as a haibara lines up a shot with a pencil.

the pencil hits gojo in the face, gifting him a small cut on his cheek. “ah, shit!”

behind the camera you can hear nanami and geto laughing as haibara apologizes profusely, and shoko comes over to practice her healing. you come over too, holding a cloth.

“don’t pout,” your younger self says, reaching up to wipe a thin trail of blood from his cheek. “you’ll get it next time.”

as soon you turn away, you hear geto snicker and the camera suddenly zooms in on gojo’s face.

he’s blushing.

“ugh,” you hear him groan behind the three of you, finally finished cleaning the bathroom. “are we done cleaning yet?”

“we’re taking a break!” tsumiki tells him, as megumi pops another card in.

gojo ignores megumi’s protests, stealing the spot on the couch next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders with a smirk. “move your feet, lose your seat.”

tsumiki, angel that she is, moves over so her brother can sit on your other side as the video starts.

this time, gojo is the one recording, holding the camera out so it’s pointed at his own smiling face. “haibara versus nanami, round one!”

you feel your boyfriend stiffen beside you, looking over to see an odd look on his face. “oh, fuck—”

“jar,” megumi says flatly.

he glares at the kid, and is about to get up when you stop him. “wait! i want to watch this!”

he slumps back, throwing an arm over his eyes as he groans dramatically. ignoring him, you watch the fight play out, which ends with haibara whining whilst in a headlock.

you hear geto’s murmured commentary off camera as nanami releases his classmate, expecting the video to zoom in on the victor.

but it drifts a little to the left, where you’re laughing with shoko on the sidelines.

“so obvious,” geto scoffs. the video wobbles for a moment before being pointed directly at the tips of satoru’s shoes, then ends abruptly.

when you glance over at satoru, he’s pulled his sunglasses over his eyes as if they can hide his pink cheeks.

the next videos are similar. memories of your past viewed through a different lens, showing you things you’d never picked up on when you were living them.

some moments you watch with an aching heart. like when suguru leans close to you and makes a joke at satoru’s expense, or when you reach up to ruffle haibara’s hair.

(moments with cherished friends proving that the grief of losing them never got any lighter as you moved forward with your life, but at some point you’d just gotten used to carrying the weight.)

but what might be most interesting is seeing yourself in satoru’s eyes.

his focus, whether he was the one holding the camera or not, always seemed to drift to you. for all the times he’d denied crushing on you in your early years, the camera proves otherwise.

the way he peeks at you shyly as you fix your hair before a fight.

the way he reaches out instinctively whenever you’re knocked backwards.

the way he smiles brightly whenever you laugh at one of his jokes.

the way your gaze would occasionally meet his, and his smile seemed to come naturally.

“okay, that’s enough for tonight,” satoru announces, shutting the tv off and shooing the children away. “go clean your rooms, you freeloaders.”

you stand, looping your arms around his neck before he can run away. smiling, you gently pull his glasses off, tossing them onto the couch.

“hey! those are gucci—”

you shut him up with a kiss, feeling the way his lips curve upwards against yours. “i love you, you know that?”

blue eyes meet yours, the pensive look he’d been wearing melting into something a little softer. something reserved for you. “you’re obsessed with me, i know.”

you simply laugh, letting him dip down to give you another kiss.

(because you’d had his heart in your pocket long before either of you had realized.)

[munsons-mutiny]

One of my favorite trope for Steddie is Steve hunting down Eddie when the kids join Hellfire and giving him a long list of dos and donts.

At first Eddie thinks he’s just being a prick, and worried he’s going to turn the nerds into freaks like him. Especially when he says not to mention drugs in front of Dustin.

But then he starts pulling out lists of monsters that can’t be in campaigns. And like what??? Why can’t he use demagorgons? They were gonna be in the next combat! He’s tempted to ignore the warnings, in fact he’s all set to, but something about Steve’s face when he was laying it all out haunts him. Something so deadly serious about it. So first he decides to test the waters to see if he’s full of shit.

When the session starts, he makes a throwaway comment, “you’re acting like there’s a mindflayer around the corner.”

All the kids freeze but Wheeler especially looks like he’s going to be sick. He even grabs at the bracelet around his wrist. The one he always said his best friend made him before he moved.

Eddie curses himself for even trying to test it out after that, and immediately bullshits the whole session so he can scrap any hint of demogorgans from the campaign.

After that session he drives straight to Harringtons house and demands they go over all the things he can’t include again, in detail, while he takes notes.

He doesn’t know what’s going on with these freshmen, but he knows trauma when he sees it and well he’d gotten attached to the gremlins.

When he leaves that night, he thinks Steve is looking at him with approval. Like he trusts him with their well-being now.

[haveihitanerve]

Four Times the Batkids Forget They're Adopted, and The One Time Damian Forgets He Isn't

It had started off as a joke, as most things do, and Dick meant nothing behind it, really. It was amusing to him, actually, to tell his coworkers things about Batman and pass it off as his father. “Oh my dad? Yeah hes not big on talking. He loves showing me he cares though.” (this was, of course, in reference to Batman doing three back flips and a kick split when Nightwing had patrolled with him the other day, a classic Nightwing move) But it soon…went deeper. Dick stopped making jokes out of it, and actually began listing things about Bruce. About his Dad. It didn't help that his police friends were actually interested. “So did you and the old man do anything fun over the weekend?” Dick thought back to how he had wanted to surprise Bruce by stopping by for dinner and instead had ended up in the sewer eating granola bars on a stakeout for killer croc, who had escaped. Again. “Oh yeah we had a picnic.” Dick nodded, smiling at Randy. “Yeah. He’s, he’s kinda bad at remembering when to eat a meal on time and all that.” Dick laughed. “Its something I share too. Must be genetics.” He rolled his eyes. Randy laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I hear you. My old man smoked all the live long day. I try to keep it down, but that addiction gene is just strong eh?” Dick chuckled. “Yeah I guess.” His phone buzzed in his pocket and he waved to Randy, turning to tug it out. It was one, simple message from Babs. “Ur adopted genius. What genes.” 

Jason didn't even know how they had gotten on the topic. But here they were. “Yes. I got my mothers hair, of course, but I get my temper from my father.” Artemis was saying. “I have parents.” Bizarro grunted. Roy laughed, smacking him on the shoulder. “Well you certainly didn't get Kal’s looks buddy. But you do have his killer hair.” Starfire laughed. “That is true. I, for one, share my parents hair and have my fathers powers. But truly the best gene I was given were my mothers eyes.” They all turned to Jason. “What about you?” Roy asked. Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, I used to have my dads eyes but um after the pit y'know,” He waved to his now green eyes. “And actually I have my dads dark black hair, and he’s graying early too, which might be why my white streak is so prominent.” They nodded in agreement. “But yeah, hes actually a little taller than me so maybe I’ll still grow a few inches but uh yeah. I don't… remember my mother enough to talk about her.” “Dang man. I wish we could meet your dad.” Roy murmured, laying a comforting hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Then we could really compare. I mean-” He laughed. “You sound like his carbon copy.” Jason frowned at his friend. “What do you mean? You’ve met Bruce?” They stared at him. “Jason,” Artemis began slowly. “Aren't you adopted?” 

Tim hunched over the information form, eyes straining to read the small print. His hand reached up to stifle a yawn and he settled for a sigh instead. It was late, but Tim needed to get the form done before he went to bed, otherwise everything would be far too stressful in the morning. He reached over and grabbed his coffee mug, a dark black cup that had a red R painted on it poorly. Bruce had made it for him a few years ago when he had first become Red Robin. He sipped it, staring down at the medical form. “Gods I hate having to do this.” He muttered, but reluctantly grabbed the thick medical binder Alfred had obligingly gotten for him when he had asked for medical records of the family. Tim did not under any circumstances, want to have to sit at the doctors office the next day and somehow lie his way through all the medical questions relating to his family history. He didn't have the time nor patience for it, and it was crucial he was given proper medical advice what with his missing spleen. “Any history of heart issues Bruce?” Tim muttered, flipping back past Martha and Thomas to Bruce’s great great great grandfather. “Nope, guess not.” Tim was halfway through the form when he realized the blood coursing through his veins wasn't Bruce’s. 

Steph rubbed a hand across her belly, staring at the monitor. “Your baby looks good Ms. Brown. They’re at the proper stage. Due in about two months. We’ll see you back here for your next check up.” “thank you doctor.” Steph murmured, sliding off the bed and dressing quickly before hurrying out to her car. The car door slammed shut behind her and she breathed, pressing her forehead to the steering wheel. Her phone buzzed. She lifted it and pressed it to her ear, hitting accept. “Hello?” “hey Steph.” Bruce’s voice vibrated through the phone. “How was your doctors appointment?” Steph gave a bitter laugh. “Everything looks good. The baby will come in about two months.” “Thats good. Thats real good.” Steph nodded, eyes closed. “You doing okay Stephanie?” Bruce asked, voice soft. “I don't know.” her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting tears. “I just- I’m so scared Bruce. So scared.” Bruce hummed comfortingly through the phone. “I know Steph. Its scary. And parenting, its hard.” Steph coughed out a watery chuckle. “Was that a hit?” She muttered, rubbing a hand over her face. Bruce chuckled. “No. Baby it wasn't. And just think, you’ll get to see all the firsts I didn't get with you. Their first steps. Their first wave. You might even get to hear them say mama before i kidnap- i mean adopt him or her.” Steph laughed again, and it sounded less watery. “Yeah. Well, when do kids start walking?” She asked in interest, sniffing and sitting up straight again. Bruce hummed. “Well i started walking almost immediately, but Im special.” Steph laughed. “Of course.” “alfred said i first started talking when I was around thirteen months old, and Talia said Damian was walking by ten, but she could have been lying.” Steph nodded. “Tell me more.” She whispered. Bruce obliged, happy to distract her. “Oh and whats probably going to be your favorite, babies, or at least I did, start laughing at around four months.” “laughing?” Steph gasped. “Oh Brucie!!! Thats too funny! Little chubby baby you, the future batman, laughing!” She cooed. She could almost feel his eye roll through the phone and stifled her laugh. “So yeah..” Bruce finished. “You should expect your kiddo to start walking around then. And laughing probably sooner. I would have if you'd be in my life at that time.” Steph was quiet. “Thank you B.” He hummed. “Anytime Steph. I’ll always be here to help you.” “Wait wait wait-” a new voice joined in the background of Bruce. “Are you guys serious right now?” Steph identified it as Jason. “What?” Bruce asked puzzled. “B, Stephs adopted. Her kid is as likely to walk at the same time you did as when she did!” 

“Damian?” “Go away Drake.” Damian called back, riffling through the papers. “Dami?” Tim poked his head into his younger brothers room. “Oh hey kiddo. Whatcha doing?” “I am busy Timothy.” Damian countered in annoyance, shoving the box back under his bed and moving to his desk. “What are you looking for?” Tim asked puzzled. Damian ignored him. “Dami.” “Go away Timothy.” Tim crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Come on Baby Bird. Tell me.” Damian shook his head, covering the blush on his cheeks by poking behind the desk. “Damian.” Tim’s hand was suddenly on his back. Damian jumped. Tim held up his hands in surrender. “Just tell me. I’m sure I can help you find it.” Damian sighed in acceptance, cheeks pink. “I have.. Lost my adoption papers.” He muttered, staring at the floor. But Tim didn't laugh or ridicule him. In fact, when he looked up, his brother seemed thoughtful. “Well i know me and dick and jason have them hung over our beds…” His gaze drifted to the very clearly empty space above Damians bed. “I know.” Damian jerked his head in a nod. “That is why I wished to find it.” Tim nodded in understanding. “Well, lets go look in the den. Thats where Alfred keeps all the legal stuff.” Damian trailed after his brother to the living room and watched as he opened the cabinet and pulled out three boxes. “You look through this one, I’ll search these two.” Tim ordered. Damian nodded, accepting the box. It was where Alfred found them, two hours later, broom in hand. “My dear sirs, what are you doing?” The butler asked in bafflement. “Looking for Damians adoption record.” Tim answered, nose still in some papers. Alfred looked at them. “Master Tim. Master Damian.” The two boys looked up. “Yes Alfred?” Tim asked. Alfred's face was fond and utterly confused. “Master Damian is not adopted. He is Master Bruce’s blood son.” 

@nonepizzawithleftglitter @zombiewithaflowercrown

you asked and you shall recieve!

[kachowden]

Thinking about a yandere!artist painting you while you suck him off beneath the easel.

And you can’t move too much because otherwise you’ll mess him up, so your just cock warming him with your mouth and your jaws starting to hurt and there’s drool dripping down your chin that he wipes away with a small huff. Like YOU’RE the one being difficult.

At some point he thinks you’ve gotten too relaxed so he moves to using his brush with one hand, and letting the other lightly touch and trace the curve of your back, tickling you just slightly and always narrowly missing wherever you need him the most, claiming to be “mapping out your features, love, just hold still.”

And in the end it’s all for nothing because next thing you know your back is against his chest and your bouncing on his cock while holds your jaw and makes you stare at the drying paint. Fucking you dumb until just seconds away from your peak he pulls out and shoots his cum all over the painting. And your just made to watch hours of your aching jaw become covered in white seed while he peppers mean kisses against your shoulder.

“Hm…looks like we’ll have to try again.”

[urhoneycombwitch]

common tongue of you lovin' me

🍯 honey flavour: touchstarved loverboy smut

🐝 the bees: Eddie x reader

wc: 2.5k 

content warnings: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope

foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o

____

By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.

Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.

You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake. 

Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.

He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.  

Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night. 

Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…

Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.  

You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.

“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”

“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”

Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”

You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.

Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.

“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.

He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”

There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”

He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”

“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his. 

“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim. 

When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly. 

So he does want to touch you. Interesting.  

You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.

But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first. 

You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.

“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.

Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.

It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.

He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.

When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening. 

“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”

“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.

“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.

The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.

You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.

“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.

Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”

So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up. 

Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”

When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.

“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”

He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.

Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.

He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.

Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”

“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing. 

Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.

“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”

Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”

He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”

You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”

“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”

He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.

When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.

“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”

His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”

“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”

You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him. 

The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy. 

“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”

“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat. 

Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release. 

You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths. 

“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.

His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”

You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”

Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”

You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”

He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”

He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.

He whispers, “Can I ask you something?” 

When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”

You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck. 

________

guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me