#so i decided to make it everyone's problem

[kira-sucks-lawlipops]

I used to work the front reception desk at a hospital that charged exorbitantly for patient and visitor parking. This was an undercover parking lot with a boomgate at the exit, not street parking as in the video above. It cost $13 an hour, for everyone at all times of the day with no exceptions.

Want to wait for a loved one who will be in surgery all day? That'll be a hundred bucks. Come here twice a week for dialysis? Another hundred, but every week for the rest of your life. The real kicker was that it never reset or expired. We had people who came into the emergency room, ended up getting admitted into a ward, and didn't think to do anything about their car sitting in the parking lot for days on end, racking up hour after hour of fees. Then when they finally got discharged, they'd call us from the garage in tears because the ticket machine was telling them they needed to pay thousands of dollars just to go home.

There was one loophole to this. If a ticket malfunctioned at the boomgate, we could press an override button to open it manually. This was for "emergencies only", so we couldn't do anything from the ticket machine, and we couldn't trigger it without receiving a call from the boomgate.

For five years, anytime anyone asked me any sort of question about parking, I would tell them to ignore the ticket machine entirely, go directly to the boomgate and press the 'assisance' button. And then I would let them out of the parking lot.

I probably cost the hospital more than my salary in parking fees.

Why did I do this? Was it out of selfless love for my fellow human beings? A deeply-seated belief that charging people for being sick is evil? A desire to fight the man in whatever small way I could?

Not really.

Don't get me wrong, those things did apply. I think parking fees at hospitals are evil and should be abolished. But my strongest motivator for always letting people out of the parking lot was because that was the easiest way to solve the problem.

Basically the entire time I worked at that hospital I was always 1) too busy 2) too exhausted and 3) not paid enough to care about dealing with the parking lot. The tickets were buggy, the machine was always malfunctioning and the system was exploitative. Why would I ever make that my priority when I had access to a magic button that instantly made the problem go away?

Now pay attention class. Why have I told you this story?

Because it applies to 90% of people whose job it is to monitor parking lots.

I cannot count how many times I've been in some shopping mall or convention centre or whatever, stuck a ticket into a machine and decided that actually I don't want to pay that much for parking here today. So I just drove to the boomgate and pressed the button to call for help and then was allowed to leave for free. All you have to do is say that you already paid at the machine but now the gate isn't reading your ticket correctly. The person who has to resolve that problem for you will almost always choose to hand you a 'get out of parking jail free' card rather than actually try to deal with it.

The only time I've ever gotten challenged was one guy who told me to reverse and come into the parking office (lol no), but I couldn't recerse because there were other cars behind me so he had to let me go. If you are not one for lying just crumple the ticket up a bit or scratch out part of the barcode. Don't say you lost it (some places charge at the boomgate for lost tickets), say the machine can't read it and then say hello to free parking for life.

May 31 2016 - Collin Kennedy, who is a cancer patient, used expanding spray foam to disable a parking meter at the Health Sciences Centre in Winnipeg where he gets his treatment. He says the fees are a tax on the sick. [video]

[niwaart]

See what I can do.

<Part1> <part2> <part3>

Spoiled idiot Bruce Wayne decided to adopt another child and Jason had only been dead for a few weeks... And what did Y/N do? She burned every Robin suit in the cave except Jason's old one, to remind spoiled idiot Bruce of his mistake.. The new kid only came out as Robin twice.

Y/N stands in the park throwing all of Robin's new outfits into the fire she started. Needless to say, Bruce comes running from work to stop her. Alfred has failed and is getting tired of trying to stop Y/N. No matter how hard they try to stop her from getting in, no matter how hard they try to protect the new suits by locking the doors, putting up new codes, and putting the suits in unbreakable glass, it doesn't stop Y/N.

“Stop!!” Bruce grabbed Y/N’s wrist “That’s enough you crazy girl! You’ve crossed the line!!” Y/N smiled at Bruce’s words, angering him was her goal, and she succeeded. Richard stood silently behind Bruce… Oh yeah, Richard came home after hearing the news of Jason’s death, and decided to train the new kid to be Robin, but first they had to stop Y/N.

"Oh please tell me what are you going to do now? Are you going to hit me? Kick me out of the house? Punish me by not going out? Give me what you have, because I won't stop until you cry more pain and regret than you did over Jason, he died because of you so you have to take responsibility for your actions... so act like an adult and take what comes your way..." Y/N pushed Bruce's hand off her wrist then patted his shoulder and walked back inside the mansion, on her way back she saw the new kid hiding behind one of the walls looking at her angrily with tears of frustration filling his eyes. Y/N simply gave him a wicked smile and continued on her way without any regrets.

The next day, Bruce was standing in front of her room door telling her that he had booked her an appointment with a psychiatrist. Y/N pushed Bruce out of the way and ignored him and went to make breakfast. But Bruce stopped her by grabbing her shoulder. Y/N was about to turn around to break his arm if she hadn't felt a needle prick her neck and everything went blurry and she lost consciousness. This was Bruce's plan with everyone... Richard, Alfred, and the new kid, they all planned this...

As Y/N tried to move and wake up, her headache was severe and the room was spinning in circles. When she tried to move her hand, she found that she was tied to a chair, her hands and feet bound. She tried to speak, but her tongue was still heavy... "I see you're awake, very good. Do you need some time to get your bearings or should we start right away?" Y/N lifted her head up, the voice was familiar... Who else but that doctor who claims to know how to treat mental patients... Leslie the devil... digs lies into people's minds so that they believe her... Pretending to be a victim... But she is a devil in human form. Jason went to her several times, and every time he came back from the sessions, he came back a different person... Someone who wasn't Jason, a stranger, so she forbade Jason from going to her...

Y/N bit her tongue to speak. “I see that spoiled brat had no other solution than to send me to the devil… right?” Leslie’s eyes narrowed at Y/N’s words. “It’s not appropriate to talk about your father that way. Bruce brought you here for your own good, you have anger issues.” Leslie said as she scribbled notes in her notebook. Y/N was silent for a moment before she smiled and said, “Well… show me how you can change for the better… just to let you know before we start that me being here now is going to cause a lot of problems so I hope you enjoy it with me.” Y/N laughed as she relaxed into chair, she couldn’t wait to see Leslie Thompkins fail at her job.

And so three days passed while Leslie kept asking Y/N questions and Y/N answered them with complete honesty.  This surprised Leslie.  “You answer the questions with such confidence.  I thought you would be stubborn and not answer…Are you planning something?”  It was already the fourth day, and Y/N had been in a good mood since she arrived until now.  Y/N laughed at Leslie’s words and said, “I thought you would never ask, and since today is the fourth day I will answer you. Actually, Bruce’s plan to bring me here… I knew about it before he drugged me.”  Leslie was surprised by Y/N’s words but she did not believe her.  “No way-..” Y/N interrupted Leslie and said, “Everything that’s happening now is part of the plan I made. Of course that spoiled brat put up security cameras all over the house, so I took advantage of that to monitor them… I had all the security cameras at my disposal from the beginning, so I knew what you and Bruce planned to do to stop me… Aren’t I a good actress?  Maybe I should get an award… What do you think?”  Y/N smiled mischievously at Leslie who was terrified.  Leslie picked up her phone to call Bruce and confirm the matter, but Bruce wasn’t answering the calls or even the messages.  She tried calling Richard, Alfred and even the new guy, but no one was answering.  Leslie turned to Y/N in fear and found that Y/N had been freed from the handcuffs.  “Leslie Thompkins..It's your end now.”

@crazycaoticsimp @randomlyappearingartist @ninihrtss @lovebug-apple @artistwithcreativeburnout @itsberrydreemurstuff @bellethesleepypotato @hopingtoclearmedschool @eyeless-kun @s4raahi @roseytheteacup @jsprien213 @uu-uuu

[digi-diareis]

Teen MC snapping at Caleb

Context: Yk how when you're teenagers, guys think the only way to flirt with the person they like is by teasing them? Well, imagine if Caleb had an era like this until it went too far and mc finally snapped at him.

Beware: this is gonna be SO BAD. im not a writer at all and english isn't my first language either. its just that i've had this scenario in my head for a few days now and i needed it out of my system. Also, I decided to use they/them pronouns for mc. So its more inclusive that way and also bcs even I personally don't always refer to my mc as she/her. So yeah, for the bitches, bros and non binary hoes.

Imagine this, Caleb and you bantering like usual on your way home but you're having an off day which makes it easier for you to get pissed off and fed up with all the teasing. Unfortunately, Caleb doesn't notice this and keeps teasing you until you just snap.

So mc, exasperated, scoffs at him and turns around to leave with their arms folded across their chest and eyebrows scrunched so hard they almost look like a unibrow.

"I'm done talking you. Go find someone else to pick on, Caleb. I'm not in the mood."

Sensing the sudden shift of mood, Caleb is speechless for a bit and left floundering, looking for the right words to say. He thought this was just your usual banter so why were you suddenly taking the jokes seriously? Hell, he can't let you stay in a bad mood for the entire day because that means he's getting the silent treatment and he'd rather die (well not really but he almost feels like it) than have you completely ignore his entire existence. Again.

He approaches you slowly, using a gentle voice to not alarm you the same way one would with a hissing kitten.

"Pipsqueak? Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry... Tell me what it was and I promise I won't say it again. Don't be mad anymore, we don't want you to develop any more wrinkles, do we?"

And oh, the way you stiffened up, very much reminiscent of a stray cat on full alarm against anybody trying to steal its food. Caleb gulps, knowing somewhere along the lines, he triggered a tripwire and a bomb's about to blow.

"Uhm! You know what, nevermind me! How about we go buy your favorite snack? Oh, what a coincidence your favorite stall is right around the corner-"

You turn around with a glare that makes him immediately shut up, looking like you're about to rip him a new one.

"WRINKLES?! First, you make fun of my height. Calling me pipsqueak around everyone and never shutting your damn mouth about how not a day has passed where I was taller than you. Then you start being weirdly aggressive towards my other guy friends, which by the way, what the fuck? Now most of them won't even talk to me anymore! What is your problem?! And now, you're calling me OLD and UGLY?!"

"I-I never said -"

"Shut your damn mouth and listen to me, Caleb! You have been getting on my nerves lately! I've been trying to convince myself that this is all just friendly banter but sometimes, you go too far that I don't even know if I can still laugh it off! We used to be best friends but now, its so easy for you to make fun of me. I don't know what I ever did to deserve this but oh my god, if you hate me this much then just stop hanging around me!"

Mc is heaving by the end of their entire speech, extremely worked up and upset that they're red in the face. They had been bottling this up for the past few weeks so letting it out almost felt cathartic.

Caleb is stuck in place, throat dry and mouth open but words won't come out. Was that how it's been like for you? Had he taken the jokes too far recently? Maybe it was wrong to listen to the other guys in his class who said that teens tend to fall for guys who act terrible, the bad boy stereotype is popular nowadays.

He looks down, feeling guilty and pathetic that he ended up making you feel like you hated him when you were the person who embodied everything he loved. You made him feel like flying and falling, all at the same time. So how could he hurt you like this? He had to make things right before it was too late.

"I'm sorry. Its all my fault. I shouldn't have said all those hurtful things to you, even if it was a joke or not. At the end of the day, they hurt you and that's not right. Please believe me when I say that I could never hate being around you. That couldn't be more wrong, not when all I ever want to do is be by your side. So please don't tell me to stop hanging around you, just thinking about it feels like my chest is being squeezed that it hurts. I promise I won't make the same mistakes again, so please forgive me?"

He's nervous, fiddling with his hands while he looks you in the eye. He reminds you of a wet puppy under the rain, begging you to bring him home with you. You knew the moment he pulled those puppy dog eyes that you would eventually lose, you could never say no to him. Not when you were kids and not now.

You sigh, shoulders slumping and the frown gone from your face. Now you just look tired, which only makes him more worried, maybe you're tired of him? No, that can't be. What would happen to him if you decide he's not worth keeping around anymore? He just might stop functioning all together.

You turn your back and start walking home, he feels his heart drop thinking this is it. You're leaving him behind– that is until you turn your head to the side, side eyeing him with a blush on your face.

"What're you standing there for, I thought you were going to buy me my favorite snack? Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not forgiving you just yet. Not until I've had my fill."

After that day, Caleb completely changes. Or maybe its more accurate to say he reverted back to how he used to be when you guys were kids. Doting, attentive and extremely supportive. He still banters with you from time to time but he never goes out of his way to start one. Although, there is one thing that doesn't change and that's how over protective he still is, he's still acting like a guard dog and being threatening towards all the guys in your class but at this point, you're just happy to have your best friend back again.

And just like that, Caleb's popularity spikes in your class because suddenly, every girl wants a guy who comes at their beck and call and attends to their needs. No more bad boy persona for them, they just want someone who worships the ground they walk on the same way Caleb does for you.

[mrsjellymunson]

The Biology Tutor

Lesson 3: Human Reproduction

Series masterlist

Prev parts: Lesson 1: Female anatomy Lesson 2: Male anatomy Extra Credits 01: Communication skills Extra Credits 02: French Independent Study 01: Art Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: Grades, feelings, and a practical lesson in human reproduction

WC: ~14.6K (oopsie/I’m not sorry/you’re welcome)

C/W: 18+, SMUT, NSFW, MDNI! Fluff, smut, fluffy smut, smutty fluff, fingering, clit stim, nipple play (M+F rec), p in v sex (protection is discussed; always wrap it irl), pantie stealing (consensual), aftercare, feelings, slight cream pie, brief mention of food and eating, reader wears a short skirt, Wayne Munson. I’ve tried to keep physical descriptions of reader as neutral as possible, lmk if I need to change anything. 

My masterlist

You and Eddie have decided it’s best if you keep your whatevership between the two of you, at least for now. Neither your friends nor family would be thrilled to discover you were giving ‘extracurricular attention’ to the boy the whole town regards as a lawbreaking freak. (Technically, you suppose he is actually both - weed dealing and his general style and demeanour make that statement factually correct, but you don’t see him in the negative way they do.) Furthermore, your teacher may be reluctant to come through on those agreed upon extra credits if he finds out that the lessons you’re offering veer significantly more towards the ‘practical’. So, keeping it on the down-low it is. 

However, that hasn’t stopped you from thinking about your study sessions with Eddie. In fact, he’s on your mind almost constantly. You’ve also both become more brazen in your interactions, and neither of you look away now when you catch each other’s eye in the halls. And you’ll both stare dreamily and smile across the cafeteria as he nibbles on pretzels and you mull over a thorny problem in a notebook, chewing on the end of your pencil.

You’ve spoken on the phone again too. For the most part it’s just as… stimulating as the first time, if not more so, and you're both gaining confidence and are able to articulate your needs and desires with increasingly elaborate and creative language. But to your surprise you’ve also ended up chatting too, and more than once you’ve devolved into fits of hysterical giggles. You’ve never been able to be so open with a partner before, and you’re revelling in the intimacy.

But, he’s not your partner partner. You didn’t mean it like that. You’re fully aware of Eddie’s… situation, and you’re pretty sure he’s not ready for any kind of official commitment. You really need to be careful with your language, or you're going to slip up one day and mess up whatever the hell this is…

On the day of your usual Biology class with Eddie, everyone’s milling around the science lab, waiting to get their test results. It’s the final class before the end of the semester, and Mr Clarke knows better than to expect anyone to do any work, so nobody’s in their seats and the room is filled with general murmur and chatter.

A steady stream of students collects their papers from Mr Clarke at his desk. Yours is near the top of the pile - you being you, you’re always one of the first to head up to find out how you did, and generally, the less… academically inclined students hang back until the end, wanting to delay the agony and prolong their blissful ignorance for as long as possible. 

Mr Clarke passes you your paper, and you spy a large, red ‘A+’ in the top corner. You pinch your face into a scrunched up smile, and you can feel your cheeks heating. Yes, it’s one of your favourite subjects, but you never want to assume anything.

“No surprises there!”, Mr Clarke jokes, as you proudly yet somewhat bashfully look over your work as you head back to your desk.

You’re dying to know how Eddie did, but presume he’s going to wait it out like the other ‘cool kids’, and you don’t really want to rub your success in his face in case it didn’t go well for him, so you slide back into your seat without looking in his direction.

A few moments later, there’s a sudden loud whoop from the front of the class. Everyone turns to face the clamour, and to your surprise you see Eddie standing next to Mr Clarke’s desk, arms aloft and eyes wide, grinning as he shakes his paper above his head like a Tusken Raider.

Wait, did you just make a nerd reference? What the fuck is this guy doing to you?

You try not to stare as Eddie’s gesticulations make his torn Iron Maiden shirt ride up to expose the smooth planes of his abdomen and the dark sprinkling of hair leading down beneath his waistb— You clamp your bottom lip between your teeth, this feat seemingly significantly more difficult for you than passing a science test.

He changes position, hunching over now, and punches the air with one fist, wrinkling his nose and baring his teeth as he stares down at the paper he’s crinkling in the fierce grip of his other hand.

“Yeah! Goddamn B minus! B fuckin’ minus, baby! Wooo!! I am fucking walking that stage, I can feel it!”

A few of your classmates start to clap, and soon most of the class is applauding Eddie, a few even joining in with the whoops and hollers. He bends at the waist and gives a theatrical bow, still grinning, much to the delight of the whole class.

Even Mr Clarke is clapping, ignoring Eddie’s profanity for once and with a broad smile on his face too. Eddie smiles back, extending his hand to the older man, who takes it happily, shaking it and slapping Eddie on his bicep as he says, 

“Congratulations, Mr Munson. I knew you could do it, son.”

Before you’re fully cognisant of what you’re doing, you’re out of your seat and rushing towards Eddie, colliding with his chest with a thump as you fling your arms around his ribs, hugging him tightly. He freezes for a moment, stunned, before his arms move around your shoulders, gripping you tightly, crushing the document even more, before his empty hand flattens over the centre of your back, gently but intensely rubbing up and down.

He drops his chin onto your shoulder, and turns his face so it’s nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You hear him take a couple of deep, slow inhales, and his warm breath fans out over your skin and trickles down the back of your shirt as he adds a contented hum that almost short-circuits your brain. Quietly, you mumble into his chest, 

“Congratulations, Eddie."

Just as quietly, almost like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear, Eddie replies, voice slightly cracking,

"I couldn't have done it without you, Princess…”

You remain there at the front of the class, embracing, rocking slightly, neither of you seemingly wanting to let go. Eddie's palm continues to make patterns on your back, and you keep your arms around his middle. The heat from his chest seeps into yours, and you begin to get lost in his heady scent of cigarettes, spicy cologne and weed, something so quintessentially Eddie.

Behind you, you hear Mr Clarke clear his throat, and you and Eddie break apart as he proclaims, 

“Well, I think that proves that the student-to-student tutoring project is a success! Well done, both of you. Okay, who’s next?”

Keen to minimise further attention from your classmates, you both make your way back to your seats. He sits behind his desk, and you pull your stool to face him over it. 

Eddie’s lab partner offers him a fist bump, adding, “Nice work, dude,” to which Eddie reciprocates and replies, “Thanks, man,” before the guy wanders off to chat to his friends across the room.

You and Eddie stare at each other across the workbench. All you seem to be able to do is grin goofily, and you see Eddie’s cheeks pinken to an even darker shade. Eventually, you manage to speak.

“Well done, Eddie. Seriously. I’m so proud of you, all your hard work paid off!”

He glances down at his paper again, seemingly needing to keep checking it to make sure it’s real, that he actually passed. A slightly incredulous look on his face, he replies, chuckling,

“Fuckin’ B minus. Wayne’s gonna wanna frame this shit, I swear!”

You bark out a laugh, before responding,

“You should let him. This is a big moment!”

You both laugh again before Eddie continues, more seriously this time,

“I meant what I said, you know. I couldn’t’ve done this without your help.”

“I appreciate that, thank you. You know I wouldn’t’ve done it if I didn’t want to, though, right?”

“I know, I know. I just wanted you to know how grateful I am, is all…”

His face suddenly drops, and his eyes fall to the tabletop as he says, more quietly,

“Uh… I guess this means we won’t be studying anymore though, right?”

Something twists in your stomach. You hadn’t considered that this might change things. Thoughts roil in your mind. You don’t want whateverthisis with Eddie to end, that’s for certain, and from his tone you surmise that’s not what he wants either. So you make him an offer.

“Oh, I don’t know, I think I could go for at least one more lesson. Call it a celebration! If you wanted to, that is?”

You’ve barely finished your sentence before Eddie’s almost-yelling, 

“Yeah! I mean, yes, if you want to as well, I mean…”

You try to suppress a smile as you reply,

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. I’m free after school, if that’s any good for you?”

Later on, when Eddie gives you a ride to his place, things feel different, and it’s not just the residual adrenalin from this afternoon’s test results. The anticipation is palpable. It’s like you’re both more relaxed, but somehow also more on edge, as if the air itself is charged and your skin is buzzing. You know where you’d like to take things, but you’re not sure how far Eddie will want to go, so you have a vague plan of offering suggestions but ultimately being guided by him.

You sit on the edge of his sofa feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Eddie brings drinks, clearing his throat as he sits stiffly next to you, occasionally glancing in your direction.

“So, uh, what’s the subject for tonight, Teach?”, he says with a nervous chuckle.

“I, uh, thought we could do some revision. Maybe bring everything together, and go over human reproduction?”

You raise your eyebrows as you say the final two words, hoping Eddie might catch your meaning. He gulps, and his cheeks tinge with a blush.

“That’s not a subject I have a great deal of knowledge about. But, you already knew that, right?”

He titters nervously, the pink in his cheeks deepening in intensity.

“Yeah, I know, Eddie. Um, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the deal there? I mean, you’re young, fit, good looking. I don’t wanna pry, I’m just curious, I guess?” 

Fuck, really fit. So good looking... Wait, did you just feel butterflies?

Realising your curiosity might have outrun your mouth, you attempt to backtrack.

“You totally don’t have to tell me. God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you that.”

“No, Princess, it’s fine, really. It’s not like I never, um, had the opportunity. Mostly cheerleaders wanting free weed, or drunk wives or bored moms wanting a bit of illicit fun at The Hideout. For my 18th my dad even arranged a couple of female performers for me. He’s in jail, you knew that, right?” 

You give him what you hope is a sympathetic nod.

“He got a message to a buddy of his, and they turned up after a gig. He instructed me to, uh, take my pick, or have both, if I wanted. So after we’d played, we went backstage, and we talked, and they were really nice ladies, but, uh, it just didn’t feel right somehow. They didn’t say anything afterwards, apart from how I was such a nice boy and if I ever changed my mind I should totally give them a call. And the guys just assumed what had gone on and acted like I was some kind of dog, and I guess I didn’t correct them, and, well, here we are…” 

He’s bashful again, embarrassed at his own apparent reluctance as well as his lack of experience, and you see him picking at the skin around one of his thumbnails. Looking at the floor, he continues,

“I guess I wanted my first time to, I dunno, be a bit more special? Must sound pretty stupid, coming from a hot blooded male, or whatever.”

You both smile as you remember one of your previous conversations and what you’d said. You want to reassure him.

“No, that’s not stupid at all. It’s not just girls who deserve a special first time, you know. Everyone deserves to feel comfortable, and if you haven’t felt that way yet then that’s totally okay. I’m actually proud of you for not feeling pressured into doing something that didn’t feel right.”

He turns his head sideways and looks at you at a quirky angle through his hair, a broad smile threatening to emerge.

“Yeah? Thanks, Princess, that means more than you know.”

You smile back at him, that warmth in your chest spreading throughout your torso. Breaking the moment, Eddie asks, with more than a little trepidation,

“So, what exactly d'you wanna do..?”

Your mind churns with possibilities, and you open your mouth, not entirely certain about what’s going to come out. But before you can say anything, Eddie jumps in.

“Oh, wait. I almost forgot, I have something for you.”

He reaches over to the side table next to him and returns with a lightly rolled piece of paper. Unfurling it, he somewhat nervously presents to you.

“You said you wanted a picture. So, I, uh, drew this for you.”

You take it from him and open it fully. It’s an illustration. A human brain, seen from above, one half of it beautifully rendered in graphite pencil and exquisitely shaded and detailed. The ridges and bumps look like you could almost reach out and touch them. This is incredible enough, but what really catches your attention is the other side. It’s a riot of flowers in different types and colours, overlapping and clustered in a formation that perfectly matches the silhouette of the other half. It’s beautiful.

Your hand comes to cover your mouth and you gasp a little. 

“Oh, Eddie, this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen! Did you really do this for me?”

Bashfully, he pulls a strand of hair across his cheek as he replies, 

“Sure did, just for you. I chose the subject for that big, beautiful brain of yours, and then I added the flowers ‘cos, y’know, you’re beautiful. You’ve got it all, Princess.”

Now it’s your turn to feel embarrassed. You really weren’t expecting something so amazing, or to feel like this about it. Or to feel this way about him.

You lift the drawing to look closer at the divine detail, and it’s then that you focus in on the background. It looks like a page from a book, and as you scan the words you see dictionary and thesaurus entries under ‘beauty’, spotting beautiful, beauteous, charming, attractive, lovely, alluring... You’re absolutely stunned.

It’s then that you notice the raw edge on one side of the paper.

Wait. 

“Eddie…” You turn to him, brows furrowing with a mixture of concern and excitement. 

“Tell me you didn’t steal this page from the library!”

“Uh, I may have.” He chuckles lightly. “Hey, it’s not like people use it much. It just seemed so appropriate, and I just, kinda, liberated it for an artistic cause.”

You can’t deny that a vehicle for Eddie’s amazing artwork is likely a far better use for this page than it mouldering away in a dusty school library. And it’s not like you could return it now, anyway. 

Everything about it, from the intentions to the execution, is beautiful. 

You tell Eddie so as you run your fingers over the lines. 

“It’s wonderful, Eddie. I’ll treasure it forever.”

Tearing your eyes away from the art in front of you, you lock eyes with him, and the atmosphere in the room seems to thicken. You’re not sure how Eddie’s feeling, but there’s a quiver in your belly and a heat in your core that’s demanding a significant proportion of your attention. You place the paper carefully down on the coffee table before murmuring quietly,

“Would you like to, uh, do that revision now?”

Eddie shifts in his seat, his cheeks pulling up as he tries to stifle a grin and maintain his composure.

“Okaaaay?”

You shift on the sofa and Eddie can’t help but allow the grin spread across his face. He twists his upper body and turns towards you, and puts one hand beside him on the seat as he drops his chin and peers up at you through his lashes. He looks adorable, a little timid but eager to please, like the world’s cutest puppy, and you let out a quiet giggle.

Coyly, he pulls another strand of hair across his upper lip (he really has to stop doing that) as he broaches,

“Are you gonna test me?”

A sultry smile spreads across your face as you recall the first lesson you had together.

“I taught you a lot of terminology in our first lesson. I wanna see how much you can remember.” 

The tip of your tongue peeks out and teases your upper lip.

You can tell he’s still not sure exactly what you mean, but you help him understand as you shuffle forwards and, perching yourself on the very edge of the sofa cushion, you slowly drift your hands up under your skirt, slip your thumbs into the sides of your underwear, lift your butt slightly and begin to pull them down your legs.

Eddie gets it now, and to your surprise he rushes quickly off the sofa and drops to his knees on the floor in front of you.

“Oh shit, please let me help?”

You smile broadly and allow him to take over. 

His fingertips lightly brush the skin of your thighs. They’re rough, calloused, you presume from years of guitar playing, but the feeling is certainly not unpleasant. You experience a frisson of excitement, imagining how his rough hands might feel running over other parts of you.

He gently hooks your underwear with his fingers and, slowly, continues their descent down your legs. He’s careful, reverent almost, like you’re a porcelain doll and he’s scared you will break. You’ve never been treated with such care before. You feel like a precious jewel, and his nickname for you, Princess, suddenly takes on new significance.

He’s concentrating more now than he has the whole time you’ve been helping him study, seemingly taking in every detail of your thighs, your panties, and, especially, the patch of damp fabric that’s already soaked with your arousal. When his eyes flick up to yours he realises he’s been caught staring, and he gives you a little bashful smile.

He removes your underwear by gently lifting each of your feet. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he quickly pushes the ball of material under the sofa. You don’t let on that he’s not being nearly as subtle about that as he thinks he is. 

Placing one foot on either side of his knees, you part your legs. Then, tantalisingly slowly, you move the hem of your skirt up until it’s bunched around your waist. 

You’ve never seen anyone have a religious experience, but you think the expression on Eddie’s face might come close. His eyes, fixated on your centre, are blown dark and opened wide, and his mouth is slightly open. His eyes are furrowed upwards in that almost-surprised look you like so much, and you see him swallow, hard. 

You feel your cunt clench gently. Yep, you still like him looking at you.

“So… what can you remember, Eddie?”

“I— I—”

You give him a moment, taking the opportunity to drink him in, and watch as his tongue comes out to slowly wet his lips. The edges of his mouth curl in the slightest half-smile, and he huffs out an incredulous breath. He’s close enough to you that you feel it on your inner thighs and core. He looks so good like this, kneeling in front of you. Adoring, pliant, submissive even. Oh, this is new.

You lean forward to lightly hold his wrist, and guide his hand up towards your centre. You can feel him trembling slightly, and remember that this is likely the first time he’s ever touched anyone so intimately.

“Okay, let’s try this a different way. Do you remember what this whole area is called?”

As you ask the question you trace his fingertips lightly across your mound and the soft skin of your inner thighs. You place his open hand against you and curve his fingers to cup you gently, his palm pressing featherlight against your hidden clit and his fingertips nestled in your trimmed pubic hair. He lets out a trembling hum.

“Umm, Volvo. No, wait, vul-va?”

“Yes, that’s so good Eddie.” 

You put on a lilting, singsong voice, letting him know how well he’s doing, and he puffs out another tremulous breath.

You hold his first two digits and direct him to curl the rest out of the way. You guide his fingertips between your folds, and they glide easily through your silky wetness.

“Okay, what about this part?”

Eddie lets out a long, low sigh, and swallows deeply. He’s completely fixated on what he can see and feel. You slide his fingers up and down your soaked slit a couple of times, and Eddie’s jaw drops open further.

“Eddie, are you still with me? Can you remember what these are called?”

“Huh? Uh, l— lips, I think?”

“Good enough.”

You smirk at him, though he doesn’t notice, he’s clearly far too focussed on where his fingers are to care about anything else. You revel in the attention. No one else has ever been this gentle with you, this adoring, attentive, tender. And he’s fucking mesmerised. It’s a far cry from the back-seat fumbles and quick pokes in study rooms that you’re used to. You’re definitely not going to be able to go back to that now.

Desperate for Eddie to touch more of you, you continue his education.

“Next, I want you to find my clitoris. Do you think you can do that?”

You let go of his fingers and settle back onto the sofa on your elbows, processing Eddie’s shocked and nervous expression as he glances up to your face.

“You, uh, want me to do this by myself?”

“Yes, I trust you. If it hurts, or you’re way off, I promise I’ll help. But I think it would be good for you to try. Also, I want to see if you can work out when you’ve got it without me having to tell you.”

His brow furrows very slightly at this; he doesn’t seem convinced that this is possible, but you’re in front of him, spread and waiting, so who is he to question it. He moves his wet fingertips slowly through your folds, gliding easily, studying his path but also flicking his eyes up to your face episodically. You close your eyes and hum, enjoying the sensation. 

As he moves further up you can feel a growing uncertainty in his movements, but just as you think he’s about to give up or ask for help, one of his calloused fingertips glances the side of your clit, causing you to inhale sharply as your eyes spring open.

He freezes, terrified he’s done something wrong or hurt you, but you smile down at him and reassure him,

“That’s so close, you’re almost there.”

He smiles, confidence buoyed, and you notice he’s watching your face now as he moves his fingers experimentally. One sideways movement has a rough fingertip connecting perfectly with your sensitive nub, and you let out an abrupt whine.

Eddie presses a little harder, testing, his mouth still open and the tip of his tongue teasing his front teeth.

You moan, loudly, and your head tips back and connects with the cushions of the sofa.

Boldly, Eddie begins to move his fingers, up and down to start with, which makes you hum with contentment. But when, unbidden, he then starts to draw tiny circles around his newly-discovered treasure, your whines turn to full-on moans.

“Is this it? Am I getting it, Princess?”

You glance down at him again, at that beautiful face now adorned with a smirk that seems to be a mix of experimentation and new-found cockiness. Breathlessly, but smiling, you manage, 

“Yeah, you’re definitely getting it.”

And you let out another long moan as he continues to trace those tiny patterns. You could definitely lose it from this alone, but you want to teach him a little more.

“I want you to do something else as well. Do you remember where my vagina is?”

“Uh, I think so.”

Eddie swallows, as he moves his other hand up towards your centre. He pauses, and, looking from your face to your cunt again, he begins to slowly push one fingertip between your wet folds.

You wince as you feel a slight discomfort, and offer, helpfully, 

“Try going a little lower.”

“Oh, okay, sorry, I—”

“Don’t worry, Eddie, nobody gets it on their first tr— ah!” 

He’s definitely getting it.

You want to reassure him even more, tell him that this is the best you’ve ever felt when anyone’s touched you, but the words dissolve as his index finger easily breaches your sopping hole.

You sigh and close your eyes, enjoying the subtle stretch and finally having some part of him inside of you. But Eddie’s stilled, and you realise he needs more guidance. 

“You can go in further, if you want?”

That’s seemingly all the encouragement he needs, as he pushes further, all the way to his ringed knuckle, and you feel the knobbled metal against your lips. He closes his eyes and begins babbling,

“Oh, g-god, you feel so good. You’re like silk, like velvet. You’re so fucking warm, and so goddamn wet, Jeezus!”

You allow you both to enjoy the moment, before deciding to put your musician’s fingers theory to the test.

“Can I give you some more instructions, Eddie?”

He looks up at you, blinking, seeming to come back to himself.

“Yes! Tell me what you want. Please tell me what to do to make you feel good. I’ll do it, I’ll do all of it.”

Oh, this is gonna be fun…

“Okay, add another fing— Oh fuck, that’s it! Shit, that feels so nice.”

Your hips buck forwards as Eddie slides his middle finger in to join the first, pushing them deep and coating his rings in your abundant slick. He lets out a shuddering hum as your walls clench gently around him and you gasp at the sense of increasing fullness.

“Okay, keep your hand so your palm is upwards. That’s it, I know it’s a little uncomfortable but I promise it’s worth it. Now curl your fingers, like you’re beckoning me. Just gently, not too fa-ah— Oh fuck!”

Eddie’s deft fingertips brush that most sensitive spot inside of you, and your legs tense as your back arches off the sofa. You reach down to grab his wrist. You chuckle, smiling down at him. 

“Okay, stop, just for a moment, otherwise I’m not gonna be able to speak. Congratulations, you just found my g-spot.”

“I— I did?”

He grins, huffing out a breath, and experimentally curls his fingers again, his eyes glued to your face.

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” is all you can manage, as your hands move to grip the sofa cushions.

Eddie pauses for a brief moment, glancing down to look at your sodden core, and you take the opportunity to give him one final instruction.

“If you keep doing what you were doing to my clit at the same time, you’re gonna make me cum. Do you wanna do that?”

Eddie’s voice drops almost to a growl as he splutters, the words tumbling out in a rush,

“Oh fuck yes, Princess. Please let me do that!”

He adjusts his position, shuffling closer to you, his eyes scanning between your face and your cunt. You notice the substantial bulge in his pants and how he’s occasionally shifting his hips, bucking them up into the seam of his sinfully tight jeans.

“So… I just keep doing this, and… this?”

He pumps his fingers slowly in and out of you, curling them as his rings touch your soaking lips, and continues to draw tiny circles around your clit. His wide eyes meet yours, his level of concentration evident. You nod, smiling, and relax back onto the sofa. You lose yourself in the sensations, enjoying Eddie’s ministrations and letting yourself drift away on a sea of warmth and pleasure.

Before long a familiar pressure builds in your abdomen. You let out a loud sigh and your hips buck forward again of their own accord. You hear Eddie’s breath become louder and more ragged, and his movements speed up, his fingers pumping deeper and the pressure he’s placing on your clit increasing just a fraction. It’s enough to start sparks flying along your nerves and have your back arching and your thighs trembling.

You start groaning, almost letting go before you realise you should probably give Eddie some warning.

“Shit, I’m so close. Don’t stop, dontfuckingstop, ohshitohshitohshii—”

The universe stops. Time ceases to exist. Your vision goes black before being filled with a million tiny stars, and a supernova of euphoria erupts from your core and spreads throughout your entire body. You think you hear yourself moaning, possibly Eddie as well, but the sounds seem so far away. 

You don’t notice that you’ve arched your back even further until you regain some sense of reality and realise the top of your head is now against the back of the sofa. Gradually, feeling comes back into the rest of your body, a bone-deep warmth suffusing you as your contorted limbs gradually return to their usual positions.

Your vision finally comes back into focus, and you glance down to see Eddie staring at you, wide-mouthed and somewhat stunned. Propping yourself up on the heels of your hands, you grin as you comment, voice syrupy and possibly a little slurred,

“Fuck, Eddie, you’re good at that. Screw the B minus, you definitely deserve an A plus!”

He gives you a lopsided grin, one dimple popping, and chuckles lightly as, watching your centre, he begins to slowly withdraw himself from you. Your body seems to have other ideas, as your walls clench around his fingers and a small aftershock makes you tremble. It definitely doesn’t want to let him go.

He pauses as he examines his soaked digits, moving them apart and studying your slick as it covers his palm and runs over his knuckles. You think you spot a minuscule drop of his jaw as his hand twitches, but then he stops himself. You’re slightly nervous that you may have misread his movements, but you decide to be bold anyway.

“Do you wanna taste me?”

His eyes snap to yours. They’re wide, like a kid that’s been caught trying to steal cookies. Sitting up a little, you gently take hold of his wrist and move his hand closer to his mouth, giving him permission. His eyes don’t leave yours as he drops his jaw, lolls out his tongue and pushes his sodden fingers into his mouth. Only when his lips reach his knuckles does his gaze falter. His eyes flicker closed and he hums loudly, licking and sucking, cleaning up every speck. He eventually pulls them out, mumbling low,

“Christ, you taste so good.”

You heat at the praise; no one’s ever told you that before. Feeling bold again, you continue,

“You wanna taste me properly one day? Put your mouth on me? I gotta admit I’m keen to see what else you can do with that tongue…”

Eddie gulps audibly as he shuffles forwards and grabs hold of your knees, looking like he’s kneeling at an altar. The altar of you.

“Oh holy shit, please let me do that. God, I wanna get my tongue inside you so bad.”

He’s practically drooling, and the sight of him literally on his knees and begging to taste your cunt has you clenching all over again. But as much as you want that (and you really, really want that), there’s now an aching need inside you that only something larger can satisfy. If Eddie’s willing to give it to you. Keen to bookmark this for another time, you proffer,

“Whaddaya say we make that a whole lesson all to itself?”

He grins at you, seemingly pleased with this proposal.

Eddie rests back on his heels and places his hands in his lap. He’s not ushering you to leave, which is good, but he seems a little unsure of himself. Conscious of how exposed you still are, you start to straighten yourself up, lowering your skirt and checking your hair in case the sofa cushions have done a number on it. 

You have no idea what the protocol is for this situation. You’re aware that there’s likely an issue in his pants that could use some attention, but you’re not sure how to broach it. You know what you’d like to do, but are suddenly nervous and can’t look at him, and start fiddling with the hem of your skirt. He seems to be having the same dilemma, as he asks,

“So, what do we do now?”

He could be expecting a suggestion like watching a movie, or ordering pizza. But you decide to ask for what you want, whilst also giving him an out just in case this is too sudden. You fiddle with your hem again and catch his gaze as you blather,

“Well, I know we’ve kinda talked about this before, maybe not as much as we could have. But I, uh— I’d really like to, um, have you inside of me. If you wanted to. An— and it doesn’t actually have to be now, or even soon. We can totally go at your pace, and I realise I’m asking to be your first, but—”

He cuts you off with a single syllable. 

“Yes.” 

It’s the shortest sentence you’ve ever heard him utter. And in this moment it’s the most beautiful. His face is almost blank, completely serious with an edge of hopefulness etched in his brows. Your chest fills with pride and gratitude. He really does trust you enough to want to do this with you. But what happens next is a surprise. 

“Umm… would now be okay?”

You grin broadly. 

“Uh, no, not at all. Shall we, um… take this to your bedroom?”

He smiles softly before breaking out into a wide but bashful grin.

He stands and, offering his hands, helps you to get up. Eddie makes sure you’re okay to move and, at a pace you can cope with on your shaky legs, gently leads you across the trailer and down the narrow corridor to his bedroom, repeatedly looking at you with an incredulously dopey look.

He pauses with his palm against the door. Looking at you ruefully through his lashes, he warns you, quietly,

“Just so you know, it’s a mess in here.”

You reassure him,

“I don’t mind. Frankly, so long as you’re not storing a rotting corpse or running a meth lab, I couldn’t care less.”

He swings the door open and leads you inside. You step through and take a brief moment to glance around the room, noticing the posters on the walls, piles of clothes, D&D paraphernalia and various bits of band equipment. It’s almost exactly as you’d pictured it. 

Standing in the middle of the carpet, he turns to face you, holding one of your hands in his and fiddling with your fingers. His hesitancy is adorable.

“Soooo… What do we do first?”

You take both of his hands in yours, squeezing them lightly, and through a soft smile you say airily,

“Well, it’s usually customary to do a little kissing. I know you know how to do that, because…”

Your cheeks heat as you remember your library lesson. Eddie’s throat bobs as he swallows, and his gaze flits around your face, settling on your lips as he tries, and fails, to get his breathing under control. 

You gently place his hands at your waist and then loop your arms around his neck, finally getting to sink your fingers into his long, luscious locks. They’re much softer than you thought they’d be, and you feel him tremble as you lightly drag your fingertips across his scalp.

You step towards him and slowly lean in, moving your face closer to his, pulling Eddie ever so slightly to indicate that he should do the same. There’s the briefest of pauses as your lips hover, your breaths mingling, before you both close the minuscule gap.

It’s a little uncoordinated, you two never having done this standing up before, but none of that matters as your mouths connect. Eddie’s lips are soft and pillowy, and the feeling of his hands on your waist, his mouth against yours and that familiar faint vanilla scent completely invade your senses. He has a hint of a five o’clock shadow, and you feel his scruff scratch softly against the sensitive skin of your face. You know it’s going to leave you red and puffy, and you relish being able to take a reminder of this away with you. 

It’s chaste yet passionate as your lips meld and release and find a rhythm. You muss his hair and he hums, and the ache between your legs grows vivid again. You press your front against his, and he breaks your kiss with a soft,

“Oh!”

Wow, he really does want this. A whole lot. You nudge against him again, relishing the firmness you can feel in the front of his jeans. The seam of his zipper only adds to the sensation, and you feel his obvious and substantial erection swell and kick towards you through the stiff fabric. You’ve never wanted anything more in your entire life, but for Eddie’s sake you’re determined to take it slow.

Okay, maybe not that slow. You thumb at the hem of his shirt, and with what you hope is a cute pout, ask,

“Can we take this off?”

He grins, dimples popping adorably, and takes half a step back. You think your own smile might rival his as you grasp the bottom of his shirt and peel it up and over his head. Not teasing, not rushing, the speed is just right, and you bite your lip when his arms lift and his hair fluffs, and you drop the garment to the floor.

You’ve seen him shirtless before, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way it affects you. Eddie catches you staring, and for a brief moment you worry that he’s self conscious, or nervous of your opinion of his physicality. But instead, in a cheeky show of burgeoning confidence, that you hope is somewhat down to you, he murmurs,

“Do you… like what you see, Princess?”

Your eyes continue to scan his chest as you hum in approval.

“Oh yes, definitely…”

You bring one of your hands up and run the tips of your fingers over the tattoos on his pec. Eddie shivers and inhales a shaky breath, and then whines a little as you flatten your hand over the muscle.

Your other hand traces up his waist and abs, making him stutter out a bashful giggle as you hit a ticklish spot, until both hands come to rest on the upper part of his chest, feeling it rise and fall beneath your palms. You look over his torso, his shoulders and throat, before your gaze flicks over his lips and reaches his eyes again.

“I meant what I said before, you know. You’re really pretty. Has anyone else ever told you that?”

“Uh, nope. No, they haven’t. But from you, I believe it.”

You smile softly at him, and run your hands over his collarbones and down the sides of his pecs. Experimentally, you allow the pads of your thumbs to gently skim his nipples. He hisses in a breath, and his responsiveness increases the throb in your core.

You let your hands travel lower, and they come to rest at his belt line. You can’t help but salivate at what you know is beneath as you work his belt buckle open, and then his button. You look up and smile at him as you pull gently on his zipper, lowering it, and he smiles back, shaking his head almost imperceptibly as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. 

You hook your thumbs over his waistband and start to tug. He helps, easing the fabric over the soft swell of his ass as you pull his jeans down until you’re crouching on the floor before him. He sighs as his member is released from its denim confines, tenting obnoxiously in his briefs, and you miss the fond smile he gives you, accompanied by another imperceptible head shake, as you concentrate on freeing his feet.

Once he’s standing in just his boxers, you rise and sit on the edge of his bed, gently pulling on his hands and guiding him to sit next to you. You swivel to face each other, fingers still linked. The two of you somehow manage to make some of the most innocent of gestures seem the most intimate, and there’s a peculiar moment of bashfulness between you. You huff through your noses, chuckling, and you can see Eddie’s cheeks have pinkened again as he looks down at your joined hands, fingers intertwined.

Finally, his gaze meets yours again, and his face is suddenly serious. His eyes flit to your lips, and you take this as your cue to lean forward.

Your noses bump, and initially neither of you are sure which way to turn your head. It’s awkward and sweet and adorable, but when your lips finally connect all of that melts away. You soon both get into your stride, and it’s even hotter than it was in the library. You don’t have to worry about noise, or getting caught, and there’s no time limit - this time you can do this for as long as you want, and the thought of it fills you with a warm sensation that you can’t quite identify.

Eddie’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, and as you run the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip his mouth opens instantly, allowing you access to him and he to you. Without hesitation he plunges his tongue into your mouth, and deftly swirls it around your own, moaning as he moves his hand to grasp the back of your head, just like he did in the library. It’s messy and hot, and with no fear of being discovered you're both much more vocal, sighing and moaning as you move against one another. Eddie’s free hand comes to rest gently on your waist, but you can tell he’s tense and holding back. You don’t want him, or you, to hold back anymore. 

You break the kiss and look at him. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, and his lips are parted, reddened and glossy with your shared spit. In one swift motion you twist, lift one leg, and position yourself astride Eddie’s thighs. Then, to his complete surprise, you teasingly fiddle with your hem for a moment before lifting your shirt up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra. You chose it especially, the delicate lace cups leaving your nipples visible through the sheer fabric.

Eddie’s eyes widen and his jaw goes slack and he’s just… staring, like he’s seeing colour for the first time. You allow him to look at you for a little while, and his awestruck, hungry gaze is almost as effective as his touch for increasing the arousal at your core. You run your hands down his arms until you reach his wrists, which you lift gently, bringing his hands towards your chest. Eddie realises what’s about to happen, and quietly mutters,

“Oh, fuck…”

You guide his hands and his palms are hot as you place them over your flesh, and the heat between your bodies increases as Eddie huffs out an open-mouthed,

“Haaaaaaah.”

His eyes are fixed on your breasts, and he seems momentarily frozen in place. He swallows again, but before you can offer words of encouragement his eyes flick up to yours, an almost pleading look on his face. You nod carefully, slowly, hoping to convey your meaning: go ahead.

You’re successful, and you moan with delight as Eddie’s gaze drops again and he begins to squeeze and mould your heaving bosom like he wants to memorise every curve, every feature. He pushes them together slightly, then up, then apart, all the while massaging them gently with his palms and fingertips. At one point he accidentally grazes your slowly hardening nipples, and it causes both of you to let out startled whines.

He’s humming involuntarily, and more than once you feel his hips roll upwards, positioning the substantial tent in his boxers closer to where you need him. You drift your eyes up towards his pillows as you ask,

“Shall we… get a little more comfortable?”

His nod is swift and it bounces his curls as he immediately begins to shift position. You stand as he shuffles to the centre of his bed and flops down, his hair splaying out over his pillow and his hands clutching mindlessly at the comforter, perhaps to ground himself.

You manoeuvre so your thighs are astride his, your naked cunt not quite touching him and shielded only by the drape of your skirt. You wonder whether Eddie might be catching the scent of your arousal. He’s staring at your chest again, and you surmise he’s got a better view now, with more space between you and the light from the window illuminating you from the side.

His eyes rove your form, and you can’t wait to see what happens when he views a real pair of actual tits for the first time. Locking your gaze on his face, you reach behind you and unfasten your bra. The small jolt as you undo the clasp makes Eddie jump slightly, and his eyes flash up to your face, his eyes saying, is this really happening?

You cover yourself with one arm and slowly slip the straps of your bra off your shoulders before performing a dramatic reveal, dropping the lace to your lap and then sweeping the flimsy garment off the bed and onto the floor.

Eddie’s eyes widen to the point where you think they might leave his skull, and his jaw drops and retracts a couple of times. A strangled sort of noise leaves his throat, and it sounds a little like he’s being gently choked. You check in with him.

“Eddie? Are you okay? Are you… still breathing?”

He inhales, loudly. Nope, he’d definitely stopped breathing. His arms lift a little and his hands hover over the bedsheets. His eyes haven’t left your chest, and you let him know that whatever he wants to do, you’re okay with.

“You can touch them, if you want?”

Eddie huffs out a long exhale, and the warmth of his breath fanning over your sensitive skin brings your nipples to hardened peaks. His fingertips tentatively brush at the sides of your breasts as his thumbs trace the undersides. It’s like he’s examining a precious artifact, and it’s the most reverence anyone’s ever shown your tits, or any part of you. You hear yourself gasp as your centre spasms.

This gives Eddie a little confidence, and he moves to cup your flesh in his hands, his fingers squeezing lightly. This time though, he’s looking at your face, assessing your reaction, seeing how he’s doing. You very much appreciate that he’s ensuring he’s not hurting you, or making an ass of himself, but it’s actually quite the opposite. You let out a tiny moan, and gift him with a louder one when the pads of his thumbs graze your peaked nipples. He does it again, with more intent. The combination of the roughness and heat of his skin feels wonderful.

Unbidden, he brings his forefingers and thumbs together on one side, and pinches lightly. Your abrupt groan surprises both of you, but in a delightful way. He does it again, to both nipples this time, and you groan again as your belly clenches and you involuntarily roll your hips over his thighs, the heat in your core intensifying. 

You let him play for a while, enjoying how he moans and swallows and moulds your flesh. His hands feel so good you’re reluctant to pull them away, but eventually you do, softly placing his arms beside him on the bed as you murmur,

“It’s my turn to touch you now.”

His nervous expression quickly dissipates as you gently lay your hands onto his chest. He’s so beautiful, like an alabaster statue, and he’s warm and responsive to your touch. You run your hands lightly all over his torso, tracing the planes, dips and curves of his musculature, and the designs of his tattoos. It’s simple, almost reverential, though the increased heat in your centre and the breaths stuttering beneath the pretty pink bloom flushing over Eddie’s skin suggest your touch is anything but holy.

There’s something you’ve been wanting to investigate for what feels like a very long time, and you’re delighted that you’ve finally got the opportunity. You run your palms over Eddie’s chest again, but this time allowing your fingertips to skim over his nipples. 

He twitches beneath you, almost flinching at the sensation, but from the gasp he inhales and holds you don’t think this was from discomfort. You repeat the action. His flesh feels soft and velvety, and they’re smaller than yours, but seemingly just as sensitive, and you hear him whimper as they peak beneath your touch. You had no idea a guy’s nipples could react like this, your previous partners never giving them any consideration or allowing you to explore like this. Eddie’s stuttering breaths and the way he’s trembling make you think they were missing out on something really special.

You draw tiny circles around each nipple with the pads of your forefingers, and you feel the bedsheets shift under you as Eddie grips them in his fists. Bravely, you experiment, and you move your thumbs to join your fingers, Eddie’s flesh between them. With the lightest amount of pressure you pinch, just a little, and release quickly.

Something guttural leaves Eddie’s chest, and his breath comes out in a rush. Buoyed by this, you squeeze again, with more pressure and for longer, and this time Eddie’s groan is accompanied by an upwards buck of his hips into the empty air in front of yours.

This is new, and you like it very much. From the deepening pink tinge appearing across Eddie’s cheeks and torso, you think he’s liking it too. You squeeze once more, and release. Leaning forwards and sticking out your tongue, you lick at one of Eddie’s peaked buds before delicately clamping down with your teeth and sucking gently, moaning quietly at the sensation of his delicate flesh in your mouth.

Above you, Eddie splutters,

“Shit! Oh shit! Hnnn!”

Oh yeah, those other guys were definitely missing out.

You decide it’s time for him to experience yours up close too. You lean forwards, bracing your arms either side of his head, the swell of your tits now hovering above his face. His gaze flicks between them a few times before flashing up to yours. You give him a soft smile and nod your head, and he hums as he slides his hands up over your waist, up your sides and over the warm flesh again. 

He moulds them in his hands, making you moan, and to make it all the more obvious what you want him to do you shift so one of your nipples is positioned directly above his mouth. He takes the hint and flicks out his tongue, just grazing your peaked bud at first before gaining in confidence and taking it fully into his mouth, sucking gently at first and then flicking his tongue over it.

You feel a jolt head from your nipple up to your jaw that ignites the entire side of your face with static electricity as another journeys to your core. You let out an involuntary groan, and, buoyed by this, Eddie suckles harder, simultaneously running his thumb over your other nipple. You moan again, your hips rolling over his thighs in search of friction. Shifting beneath you, he pops off one breast and latches on to the other, giving it equal attention and, daringly, pinching the first between his fingers. It’s intense, and glorious, and that electric spark is back, heading directly between your thighs. This is definitely something that’s never happened before.

He unlatches, and you’re a gasping, breathy mess as you move down to kiss him. He lunges up a few centimetres to meet you, and as you deepen the kiss your nipples brush against his chest. He whimpers, and grabs the back of your neck with one hand and between your shoulder blades with the other, pulling you down so your chests meet. You drop your elbows down onto the mattress to get closer to him, and rake your hands through his hair, grasping it and pulling at the roots gently as your hands ball into fists.

There’s no more reverence or holding back now, and your kiss is messy, wet and noisy as Eddie holds you to him, squeezing you together and shoving his tongue seemingly as far down your throat as he can. Your tits are squashed between you, and the pressure of his heated chest against yours is divine. It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever done, and you can’t quite believe you’re having this effect on each other. You feel the stiff length of him pressing into your abdomen, and he feels so, so ready for this.

You hum as you kiss him for a while longer, feeling his length kick up between you and the dampness between your legs increase. You break the kiss and sit up, smirking at Eddie’s blissed out face and reddened, kiss-bitten lips. Watching him watch you, you open the side fastening of your skirt and peel it off, discarding it to one side, leaving you fully bare on top of him. His face is almost unreadable, such a mixture of emotions passing over it, but you think he might be a combination of reverent, horny and amazed.

You move yourself further up his thighs, finally settling your hips flush across his, settling down close to the substantial wet patch that’s been made by his leaking tip. Your naked centre sticks to the damp fabric as you drag it across his boxer-covered crotch. Ordinarily you’d be embarrassed at making a mess, but something tells you Eddie won’t care.

You were right. There’s no resistance from him, and he groans beneath you as you feel his hefty bulge press against your folds. His hands grip the bedsheets again as he mumbles out in a low breath,

“Oh my god, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

His tone and his words only get you wetter, and you can’t help but roll your hips slightly over him, earning you another groan.

You don’t want to waste your slick on this fabric, and rise up onto your knees. With a playful snap of his waistband, you urge,

“Take these off.”

Eddie shuffles beneath you as quickly as he’s able, There’s the rustle of cotton and you look down in time to witness the slap of his hard member against his stomach. His cock’s flushed a deep pink, almost magenta, is more swollen than you’ve ever seen it, and is already drenched and glistening with precum. It smears across his happy trail as he shifts until, moments later, he’s naked beneath you. 

Still kneeling up, your cunt hovers over his bare form. His eyes scan your whole body, from your eyes to your tits, all over your torso, the soft hair covering your cunt, back up to your eyes again. Bravely, you think, he places his hands on your thighs, and you feel them tremble a little as he rubs and strokes gently. 

Slowly, you lower your hips. You feel your pubic hair brush first, before your warm lips make contact with his shaft and your most personal areas touch for the first time.

Eddie’s brows furrow as the slick warmth of you settles onto him, and his abs tense as he breathes out, low,

“Oh, shiiiiit.”

You’re both still for a beat before you brace yourself, palms placed flat on his chest, and begin to rock your hips, just gently, getting you both used to the sensation of having him pressed against your folds. His cock is hard, yet warm and soft, and Eddie huffs out heated breaths through his nose as you slide yourself along him. His hips start to subtly cant beneath you. By the tense look on his face you think it might be involuntary, that he’s holding himself back. 

You move for a little while before one particularly exquisite movement allows his cock to slip between your folds, and his swollen tip unexpectedly nudges your clit. You gasp and curl in on yourself, involuntarily closing your eyes and clenching your fingers, letting out a soft whine. 

Below you, Eddie makes a strangled hnnng sound before his breath hitches and he inhales quickly, his grip on your thighs tightening. 

Worried there’s something wrong, your eyes flash open. You’re relieved to see Eddie seems to be okay, though his eyes are blown even darker and his jaw is softly parted. You glance down at your hands on his chest, and notice a collection of angry-looking red lines where your nails have dug into his flesh. Horrified, you stammer,

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!”

Echoing your words from your second lesson, he smirks, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip, and he bounces his eyebrows as he admits,

“It’s okay, I kinda liked it.”

Smiling, you lift your hands to his pecs and lightly drag the nails of your pointer fingers further down his chest and ribs, down to his abs. Eddie moans again, and his hips roll upwards, his cockhead nudging your clit with more pressure and causing you to whine along with him.

Fuck, this feels so good, and he’s not even inside of you yet…

You don’t know how Eddie’s doing, but you can’t take much more of this. Feeling that it’s definitely time for his final lesson, you sit up, resting your palms gently on his belly. You’re feeling really good, but also nervous, which you know makes you verbose, and you can’t help but babble out too many options. 

“Okay, so, I’m more than happy for us to go all the way right now. But if that’s not something you want I’m obviously totally fine with that too. But… Shit. I guess I’m asking, do you still wanna… I mean, how far do you wanna go, really, with me?”

Eddie’s eyes search yours earnestly, and the gentleness of his reply instantly soothes your frayed nerves.

“I want it, Princess. I want to do it… all. With you.”

You smile warmly down at him. It’s the best response you could’ve had. He swallows before gesturing to his nightstand.

“Should I, uh… Should we…?”

You realise he’s asking if he should get a condom, and you’re grateful for his thoughtfulness. But you’ve been considering this, and you have an alternative suggestion. 

“Well… I’m on birth control for a period thing, and I'm pretty sure I’m clean because I’ve never not used a condom. I know you’re clean because, well, y’know. So… if you’re okay with it, we could, uh, do it without?”

He’s looking up at you, wide-eyed and mouth agape. All he can manage is a tiny, squeaked,

“Holy f—. P— please.”

Again, it’s the perfect reply. You’re still slightly incredulous that he’s trusting you to be his first, but you’re also excited to take on such a responsibility. You calm your breathing before kneeling up a little, glancing down and reaching between your legs to take ahold of him. You already knew he has the most exquisite cock you’ve ever encountered, and it somehow looks even more beautiful right now. You grasp him reverently, angling him upwards and dragging him through your folds to gather more of your slick. 

He’s hot and solid in your hand, and flashbacks of everything you’ve done so far flood your mind. Touching yourself as he watched, taking him into your mouth, getting each other off over the phone, your first kiss... It‘s all combined to lead you to this exquisite moment. 

Eddie sighs lightly and lets out a nervous hum, and then both of you hold your breath. You lower yourself a tiny amount, and his tip pushes in a little further as you notch him between your folds. He gasps. You lean over him, and stabilise yourself with your hands either side of his head.

“You ready?”

Eddie’s voice wobbles as he confirms,

“Fuck, yes, Princess. Please f-fuck me.” 

You take a steadying breath, and, keeping your eyes fixed on his, you begin to lower further. His fat head breaches you, and you bite your lip as you feel the stretch of him for the first time. Slowly, so slowly, you slide down, inch by delicious inch. You’re so wet he glides into you easily, although the size of him is something you’ll need to get used to. You relish the sensation of him stretching out your walls as they slowly envelop him.

You pause, and Eddie mumbles your name, barely audible, the hot huff of air filling what little space there is between you. It sounds like a prayer, or perhaps a spell. There’s a moment of silence and absolute stillness, yet it’s weighted, the implications heavy in the humid space between you. You both know how much this means, how things will never be as they were, especially for Eddie. As you slide lower, letting him fill you, his jaw drops further, and his grip on your thighs grows stronger. You sink down until he’s plunged completely inside your warmth, and immerse yourself in the way you’re accommodating him. Your hips finally connect with his, and as you seat him fully inside you already feel him nudging against that spot that he so deftly located earlier. You mumble out a stilted,

“Oh, god.”

It’s followed by a long, deep sigh from Eddie as he mutters,

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck— Ooooooooh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuccckkk!”

He’s closed his eyes, and you can feel the tips of his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. You enjoy the moment, savouring how he looks, how he feels. His hair splays out around him on his pillow like a chestnut halo, and his head is tilted back, exposing his broad, thick throat. His eyes flash open again and fix on yours; wide, dark mahogany pools that are somehow simultaneously a million miles away and boring into your very soul. His mouth hangs open in awe, shallow, trembling breaths emanating from his throat. He looks like an angel. 

He strokes your thighs for a moment before his large hands move to settle lightly on your hips. Placing your hands over the backs of his, you stay seated, tilting your hips ever so slightly to push down even deeper onto him. He practically growls,

“Fuck, Princess. You feel so fucking good.”

The growling nature of his voice sends an electric heat straight to your core, and the stretch you feel quickly morphs into a fiery need. You gaze into Eddie’s chocolate orbs as you warn him, 

“I’m gonna move now, okay?”

He swallows in preparation, and you brace your hands on his lower ribs. You tilt your hips, rolling them. It angles him differently inside you, his swollen head hitting harder exactly where you need it. It also brushes your clit against the dark, glossy hair at his base, and your walls spasm as a low moan leaves your chest and you feel Eddie’s cock kick up in response. He mumbles, voice low and lasciviously gravelly,

“Do that again.”

So you do, again and again. You find a rhythm, slow but satisfying as you rock back and forth. Eddie’s jaw drops open again and his lips form a soft ‘o’ as you move above him.

It occurs to you that everything feels subtly different. Of course, you’ve never been treated with such care before, never been brought to a point of such arousal, plus you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you want Eddie in this moment. But you swear you can feel the flared edge of his cockhead as it drags against your walls, and every ridge and vein as you move atop him. You’d never previously considered how a lack of barrier might affect things, it always being a hard boundary for you, despite whining and cajoling from previous partners. You’d assumed it was mostly a ‘guy thing’, and you had no idea how it could affect your pleasure. But it’s abundantly obvious now. 

Eddie's lips are pursed, and his grip on your thighs intensifies again as you watch the muscles of his abdomen subtly tense. Perhaps it’s time he became a bit more… involved. You’re sure he can take it, and you know he won’t hurt you.

“You can move too, Eddie. Just do what feels good.”

He‘s tentative at first, tilting his pelvis subtly and pushing up into you with such care, as if he might hurt you, or something might break. It’s incredible, the small movements feel so good, and somehow more intimate and passionate than anything you’ve done with anyone else. You reward him with soft sighs and moans in time with his movements.

Gaining confidence, he begins to move faster, pulling out further and thrusting back in with more vigour. When you join him, moving and rolling your pelvis with larger movements in time with his, your breath coming out in increasingly loud rhythmic gasps and moans, his breathing quickens, his whole body flushes, and you can't help but close your eyes and drop your head back in ecstasy until Eddie’s hands clamp onto your hips and—

“Ohmygod, ooohmyGOD.”

He’s suddenly still.

You open your eyes to check in on him, and see Eddie’s screwed up face, his eyes and mouth twisted shut, his cheeks even redder than before.

“Eddie? Are you okay?”

He babbles, quickly,

“Don’t move Princess, pleasejustdontfuckinmove. This is fuckin’ amazing and I don’t wanna ruin it!”

You want to reassure him that everything he’s doing is perfect.

“I’m close too. It doesn't matter how long this lasts, just that we both enjoy it. And I’m really, really enjoying it. Please, keep moving, Eddie. For me?"

From his beautifully wide eyes and flushed face, this definitely isn’t going to last very much longer, but you mean it, you don’t care. You’re still puffy and sensitive from his earlier ministrations, and you know it won’t be long before you fall apart all over him. You both begin to move again, quickly rebuilding a rhythm. The soft thrusts of his hips keep perfect time with the subtle rolls of yours, the lewd sounds of your mingling juices only adding to your mutual enjoyment. 

Eddie lets out little uhs and ahs in time with your movements and you adore that you’re having such an effect on him. After a particularly deep thrust followed by a vociferous grunt, he grits out, through clenched teeth,

“Does it— Christ— Does it always feel this good?”

You reply, truthfully,

“Honestly? It’s never been this good.”

He stutters out a high-pitched chuckle as he confirms,

“Holy shit, I’m in fucking heaven!”

You lunge forwards to kiss him again, brushing your nipples against his chest as you slip your tongue between his eager lips. Once again Eddie’s hand grips the back of your head and he moans loudly as his tongue plunges into your mouth. You feel the warmth of a broad palm against your lower back as he pulls you flush with his chest. The shift in position arches your back, subtly changing the angle and spreading your centre even further. 

All too soon, Eddie’s thrusts become faster and less controlled, and you match his pace, rolling your hips and pushing down onto him with increased vigour. You break apart and move up just enough so he’s in focus, wanting to see him at this perfect moment. His eyes are glazed and seem to only be half-focussing on yours, and there's a tell-tale furrow in his brow. You wonder aloud,

“You gonna cum? I wanna feel you. Let go, please.”

His hips seem to take on a life of their own now he’s not holding back. His thrusts become more fervent, and his swollen member pummels that spot inside you. You feel his pelvis slam against your clit with every stroke, and your own release careens towards you, spots of light beginning to appear in your vision and the warmth in your core reaching a heated crescendo.

With a deep, rumbling groan, easily the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard, his final thrust pushes him even deeper and his cock begins to pulse inside you. You’ve never felt anyone’s release before, and the divine sensation makes you jam your hips down, triggering your own release, and you throw your head back in ecstasy, emitting a disjointed high-pitched whine. There's more low moans from Eddie as you clench around his still-pulsing member, and you barely register the bruising grip as he digs his fingertips into your hips. 

Eventually your movements still and, spent, you pitch forward on failing arms and collapse onto his chest, breathing heavily into the crook of his neck. After a moment he wraps his arms around you, holding you close and nuzzling into your hairline.

There’s a minute of stillness, and you revel in the post-orgasmic haze. Your cunt spasms with aftershocks, eliciting contented hums from deep within Eddie’s chest. You’re warm, satisfied and feel cosy and safe with his arms wrapped around you, and you wonder whether he’s feeling the same. You hum into his skin as he traces one hand over your shoulders and back. It’s bliss.

Eventually, Eddie chuckles lightly as he mutters,

“Fuck, Princess. That was… I, um… Fuck.”

He snorts a truncated laugh, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his curls bouncing on the pillow as his head shifts to look at you. All you can manage is a dopey grin as you reply,

“Yeah. Fuck.”

You chuckle in unison, shifting until your noses touch, both tilting your chins until your lips connect in a series of soft pecks.

You’re a little nervous to ask, but something in you has to know.

“How did it feel? Fucking for the first time?”

“Shit, it was goddamn heaven, I swear! Although technically, I think you did most of the actual fucking.”

“Oh no, you did absolutely your fair share! But we can change that, if you’d like. Are you up for doing most of the fucking another time?”

Eddie’s eyebrows snap up his forehead and he looks straight at you with surprise, and just a little disbelief. 

“You, uh, want there to be a next time…?”

You roll your lips together and consider your words carefully before replying. He really has no idea how good this was for you, or that he’s already so much better than literally every guy you’ve ever slept with. But you don’t want to stroke his ego too much, at least, not just yet. You hum and fake a look of disinterest.

“Well, I guess I could make time in my schedule, to, y’know, give you a few more lessons. Purely for your benefit, of course.”

His jaw drops in faux shock.

“Hey, I know I’m not exactly an expert, but if I’m reading this right you seemed to enjoy yourself.”

You can’t keep a straight face and burst into giggles, and Eddie follows you, his fingers snaking to your waist and easily finding your ticklish spots. You huff and wriggle, but make no real attempt to disengage yourself from his grasp. If anything, you end up more entangled, and from the contented sounds that emanate from you both, it’s not something either of you mind.

You lay together for a few moments, enjoying the peace and your shared heat. But eventually your hips start to ache, and with a groan of discomfort, and more than a little reluctance, you slowly start to move. His mostly-soft cock slips out easily, and as you roll off of him you feel your combined juices run out of you, dribbling over his abdomen and coating the inside of your thighs.

You sigh as you wriggle yourself into the crook of his arm, and lay your palm on his chest, tracing lazily up and down with your fingers.

You figure Eddie must feel the cooling stickiness, because he starts to move and asks,

“Umm… Do I— Uh… Should I…? D’you need anything?”

You keep it simple.

“Umm, something to clean up with would be nice. And could I, maybe, get some water?”

The mere fact that he’s asked the question already puts him leagues above others, but you’re briefly concerned that Eddie will see this as annoying, or demanding. To your relief, he seems entirely unfazed. 

“Sure thing. You get comfy here and I’ll just be a minute.”

He wriggles sideways and backs off the bed, his beautiful grin lighting up his glowing face. His hair’s a dishevelled mess, his torso is still tinged pink and the scratches you left on his chest are an angry red, but you’ve never seen anyone so beautiful. Unable to break your gaze, he doesn’t turn until he’s already partly through the doorway. It’s sweet, and lovely, but as he leaves you’re almost sad that he didn’t turn sooner, as you’re treated to the glorious sight of his pert, peachy butt bouncing slightly as he leaves the room.

You swallow, thinking that’s a sight you could definitely get used to, but then chide yourself. He’s obviously happy to do this again, but you have no idea whether he’s… feeling the same way you are. But at that moment you make a decision - you’re absolutely going to broach the subject before you leave. Definitely. 

Probably. 

Maybe...

There’s the sound of running water and minutes later Eddie returns with a warm, damp washcloth and a small towel, and promptly disappears again. You clean yourself up as best you can and then take him at his word and get comfy, wrapping yourself up in his sheets before rolling onto your side and perusing the myriad objects atop his nightstand. There’s a full ashtray, loose keys, a lighter, a couple of rings, an empty pretzel tube, rolling papers, a creased music magazine and a lot of dust. A battered copy of a Tolkien novel catches your eye, and you pick it up and start to flip through it. There’s folded corners and pages marked with scraps of paper, notes and doodles in the margins and words written in runes in Eddie’s messy scrawl. You imagine it must be one of his most treasured possessions.

Just as you’re halfway through deciphering a short runic message, Eddie enters with snacks clasped in his hands and between his teeth. There's water, cold soda, pretzels, potato chips, a bowl with a few grapes in it, and half a bar of chocolate. His soft, but still pretty, cock swings with abandon as he heads towards you and dumps his haul onto the bed in front of you.

It’s all perfect. He’s perfect…

As the final packet leaves his mouth he spots what you have in your hand.

“I brought snacks too, I hope that’s okay. Whatcha got there, Princess?”

You drop the paperback like it’s burned you, blustering,

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to snoop.”

“That’s alright, you can look. There’s nothing incriminating in there. Not gonna tell you where that stuff is, mind you."

He pulls a comical face as he flops down onto the bed, the old springs squeaking in protest, and you giggle, thinking about your journal and wondering whether he does indeed have any similarly incriminating stuff anywhere, as you admit,

“I read The Hobbit once. I liked it, but I found the other books too heavy going. Is that awful? Are you gonna throw me out now?”

You wince and add a deliberately over-expansive pout. Eddie’s hair shakes wildly as he responds emphatically,

“Oh, god no! You’d have to do a lot worse than that for me to ever let you go…”

You think he’s just being funny, but then his eyes soften suddenly, and you wonder whether, deep down, he actually means that. Your tummy flutters at the thought. But before you can dwell, his face brightens, and, breaking your thought process, he continues excitedly,

“Maybe I could read them to you sometime? I could explain it as I go. And I promise to skip any really dull parts.”

You smile and nod eagerly in agreement, imagining lazy days spent cuddling with Eddie reading aloud to you as you play with his hair and memorise his tattoos. You can’t pass this moment up, you have to say something. And, in just a minute, you will. You’re almost certain of it.

You sit up and lean back against the wall, and Eddie joins you, pulling his sheets and comforter around you both. You lean in close as you snack on your impromptu and welcome picnic, sometimes feeding each other small morsels, and he makes you giggle as he kisses crumbs from the side of your mouth and fake-bites your fingers. 

Food devoured, you snuggle against him with his arm slung around your shoulders. You bring a finger up to trace his ink, and he hums contentedly as you run your fingertips through his soft chest hair again. 

Okay, girl. Just do it.

Gathering yourself, you take a deep breath, holding it for far too long before the words tumble out of you.

“I’ve really enjoyed this, Eddie. Not just, y’know, this, but also the tutoring, and getting to know you. Shit, I’m probably messing this up so bad. I guess what I’m trying to say is… and I don’t know how you’d feel about this, but… we could carry this on. Properly. If— you wanted to.” 

Eddie stares at you for a moment, before he stammers, 

“We— we could?”  

A goofy smile appears on his face.

Bolstered, you gather your nerve and continue,

“And… I could be more than just your tutor. If you wanted me to be?”

Eddie replies, with a little trepidation, 

“Are you serious? You’d wanna be more than, y’know, this?” 

He gesticulates over both of your pelvises.

“Yeah. I was thinking… Fuck, I hope this isn’t too much. Will you tell me if this is too much? I thought… If you like… I could even, maybe… be your girlfriend?”

Eddie inhales quickly and his chest puffs, you hope with joy, but fucking hell you hope you haven’t overstepped and it’s actually horror.

“If I’d like? Shit, I would absolutely like that. Very, very much...”

He brings one hand up to stroke the side of your head, and then runs it lightly down over your shoulder and the side of your arm. He places a firm, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back, smiling.

You stare into each other’s eyes, the gravity of the moment not lost on either of you. The nervous pit in your stomach is completely dissolved by a warm, honeyed sensation, as you slowly process that Eddie said yes, and that you’ve just snagged yourself the cutest, sweetest, sexiest boyfriend ever. 

You lean in, capturing Eddie’s plush lips in another chaste but oh-so-meaningful kiss. He presses forward to kiss you back, relaxing and heaving out a low sigh before his lips quirk into a devious-looking smirk, failing to hide his mischievous tone as he asks,

“I do have one question. If you’re my girlfriend now, do I still have to wait a whole week before we can do this again?”

You snort at his silliness.

“No, Eddie, you definitely don’t. In fact, what are you doing this weekend? Would you like to come over to my place? I’ve got plenty of ideas for more lessons, and I’m sure there’s lots we can teach each other.”

Eddie growls playfully before enthusiastically agreeing, prying excitedly for details like dates and times and possible activities. Although he seems more than fine with your company, you don’t want to push things too far or outstay your welcome, so when you glance at his bedside clock and see that it’s already way past the time you’d usually leave you turn to him with a resigned huff.

Eddie responds, 

“It’s that time already?”

You give him a glum little nod, and he continues,

“Do you really have to go? I mean, couldn’t you stay a little longer? I’d really like that.”

Smiling, you nuzzle in closer to him. 

“I was kinda hoping you’d say that boyfriend.”

In a surprising display of both strength and newly-found confidence, Eddie pushes your shoulder and flips you onto your back, scattering the empty packets and bowls across the bed and onto the floor. His pretty curls frame his face and tickle your cheeks as he looms over you, and his burgeoning erection feels hot as he presses it into the crease of your thigh.

He leans down, and his beautiful nose brushes yours as he murmurs,

“You know these lessons you’re talking about, Princess. How about we start right now?”

You hum into the kiss he plants on your lips and roll your hips upwards into him, making him moan. But before this particular lesson can go any further, you’re both disturbed by the sounds of the trailer door loudly opening and closing, and the rustle of fabric as someone removes what sounds like a heavy coat.

You and Eddie freeze, eyes wide and locked on each other's. 

“Oh shit, it’s my uncle!”

You gasp, and then both frantically sit up and scramble off the bed to get dressed, nervously giggling and flinging each other’s clothing across the room.

You’re almost done, and in record time too. But as you bend to retrieve a sock, Eddie's treated to the sight of your skirt lifting, revealing your bare cunt, a little of his spend leaking out of you. He’s momentarily struck dumb, and his jaw drops. But another noise outside snaps him back to reality. Stuttering, he mumbles,

“You don’t have any… uh…”

He waves a hand in the vague direction of your lower half, his cheeks reddening as he remembers what he did earlier on with your panties.

“It’s okay, Eddie. After that first time, I thought it would probably be a good idea to keep some spares in my bag.”

Standing, you wink at him. He pulls a thick lock of hair over his cheek, embarrassed, screwing up his eyes and realising he’s been completely and utterly caught. He tries to apologise, his words clipped,

“Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”

“You know, from anyone else I’d have found it creepy, but from you I find it oddly flattering.”

He grins widely, and is just about to pull you into an embrace when there’s another noise, a gravelly voice this time, 

“Is this paper yours, son? You didn’t steal this from another kid again, did’ya?”

Eddie looks slightly bashful for a moment but there’s no time to dither. It's time to face whoever’s out there. Eddie opens his door and leaves first, beckoning you encouragingly to follow him. Standing in the narrow hallway by the kitchen, you come face to face with Eddie’s uncle for the first time. He’s clutching Eddie’s test paper, and his deep frown, grizzled features and broad frame cut an imposing figure. When he eyes the pair of you, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. 

Eddie speaks first, and addresses his uncle, a little sarcastically,

“Yes, that is indeed my test paper. And I’ll thank you for not looking quite so surprised.” 

The big man’s brows furrow a little deeper, and you can’t tell whether it’s with consternation or amusement, as his gaze flicks between the two of you. Eddie clears his throat and introduces Wayne to you, and tells his uncle your name. You think that’s it, until he straightens up a little, and with a confidence you weren’t expecting he slips an arm around your shoulders. He grips you tightly before adding, with a little nod, as if he’s practicing the words and still convincing himself, 

“And, uh, she’s my girlfriend.”

Oh. You like how it sounds coming from his lips.

Wayne’s forehead crinkles as his bushy eyebrows raise, but before you have time to worry his face splits into a wide grin. He extends a work-grizzled hand and shakes yours powerfully as he says, in a much lighter tone,

“Well, ain’t this the nicest news for this old soul to come home to. It’s a pleasure to meet you, darlin’.”

His voice is warm and kind, and you believe it. Looking between you and his nephew, Wayne adds,

“Do we have the pleasure of your company this evening? You caught us at a good time, I’ve just been huntin’n’gatherin’.”

He gestures towards the kitchen area. You see full bags piled onto the counter, mac’n’cheese boxes, eggs and a few vegetables peeking from the tops, and realise it’s a dinner invitation. You gape a couple of times, far from expecting this level of domestic intimacy, and Eddie seems to pick up on it and answers for the both of you.

“Not tonight. I’m gonna drop this lovely lady back home, and then I’ll come help you chop veggies, ‘kay?”

He sweeps an arm wide, directing you towards his front door, and you pad over to collect the rest of your belongings, careful when you bend so as not to reveal your lack of underwear to anyone who wasn’t expecting it. You clasp Eddie’s divine drawing to your chest, handling it with especial care. Behind you, you hear the two men mutter-whispering, Wayne speaking first.

“Is this the tutor girl you’ve been talking about non-stop these last few weeks? You finally asked her out, huh?”

You can hear the smile in Eddie’s voice as he responds,

“Keep your voice down, old man. Um, that’s not exactly how it happened, but yeah, that’s her.”

Eddie looks over to you with a fond smile on his face as you pick up your backpack, and he comes over to you and helps you with your shoes before you leave ahead of him. The last thing you hear before the door closes behind you both is Wayne speaking once more.

“Good for you, son. It’s about damn time!”

Series masterlist General masterlist

Thank you so much for reading! (And for sticking with me through the longest update gap I think I’ve ever had, ILY 🙏💗) This completes our main ‘lessons’, but don’t fret - I have some more Extra Credits planned for these two 😉

If you liked this please, please like, comment and, especially, reblog - it’s the only way fics stay alive, and it means so much to writers to get your reactions and feedback, it’s what keeps us sharing our work 💗💋

“It’s that time already?” is a prompt from @promptsh20, it fitted so well with this section of the story I just had to include it 😊 The “It’s never been this good” lines are adapted from a film, the name of which I’ve now forgotten 🙈, and the “Do that again” was inspired by a Ryan Reynolds line in Green Lantern (if I can’t have him say it to me IRL I’m damn well gonna have Eddie do it in a fic 😛)

I proofed this as much as I could but my brain turned to mush, so if there are any errors or anyone grows an extra limb or something please tell me 🙏😅

Taglist part one: @airen256 @bimbotrashcan @urlbitchin @guiltyasquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @abellmunsonmovie @sheneedsrocknroll92 @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @wonderlanddreamer @leatherfaceologist @munson-blurbs @paradisepoisons @lokidokieokie @rcailleachcola @fckyeahlames @kurdtbean PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU CHANGE YOUR URL OR DON’T WANT TO BE INCLUDED ANYMORE

[lesbxdyke]

I think one of the things that has brought me the most peace in my life was the decision to stop responding to anything not clearly stated to me.

Anxiety: Oh no your friend hates you!

Me: Well they didn't say that. So either they need to fortify and tell me themselves, or I will continue to be their friend exactly as I am.

Not just that though. When people hint drop that they want a thing from you, I act as if I have not noticed at all. Either you directly ask me for that thing, or you are not getting that thing from me.

I actually decided to start doing this because I got diagnosed as autistic and I realised how much stress and unhappiness I put on myself trying to figure out everyone's motives and wants and needs all the time. So I decided I'd just... Stop.

And I tell people that. I tell people "I don't notice or respond to hints or passive aggressive behaviour. Either you need to be straight with me or I will continue as I am." And you know the only person that has had a problem with it?

My former abuser (who I am vvvvv low contact with). Because they relied on me feeling obligated to respond to their unspoken moods and wants to keep me in line.

Everyone else has been immediately on board and my relationships have gotten SO much stronger. Because I am asked directly for things, and I will give a direct reason for my response, regardless of what that response is. (e.g. "Hey, can you call me, I want company on the drive home!" "No, sorry, I'm in the middle of [task], but I will be done in twenty minutes so if you still want my company then, I'll be happy to.")

So I put this out as a suggestion for all people, ND and NT.

Stop responding to hints, passive aggression and other 'unspoken' things. Use, model and encourage clear communication with everyone, you'd be surprised how much easier it makes EVERYTHING!

[ledesaid]

Billy: Excuse me, sir! Do you know where the great ship-eating whirlwind of the north is!?

Random Sailor: What!?

Billy: Do you know how to get to the northern ship-eater!? I got lost in the storm!"

Random Sailor: What!?

Billy: Never mind! Thanks anyway!

Amidst a fierce storm, their silence makes sense. However, falling through a transdimensional rift linked to a third act? That's beyond comprehension.

After that, he met a guy named Sinbad with a great ship. This ancient world, with its bizarre tales of kings of the seven seas and magical weapons, feels surreal. Magical dungeons with hidden treasures?

The strangest part: everyone believes he's a Magi! A mage of creation who has immense power capable of creating dungeons or destroying countries… Okay, Billy could do that, he can do that, he doesn't plan to do it, but it’s curious that they know what he is capable of without him telling them. It takes a bit of the burden off his shoulders.

Yet, it seems Sinbad wants Billy to stay as Sindria's Magi permanently.

While looking for a way home, he can't help but admire him. He treats Billy as an equal, even without knowing about his big magical transformation.

However, Billy suspects the king is not too keen on helping him return.

Their quest to stop the marine disaster responsible for the typhoon hasn't been very successful.

Sinbad: Billy, any luck!?

Billy: No! The storm is very strong, and people are running for shelter!

Sinbad: We'll try again tomorrow! Let's return to the ship!

The storm that was battering the region only disappears when Billy manages to interact with the glowing butterflies called Rukh and stops the whirlwind causing the problem.

Obviously, they return to Sindria to celebrate. Sinbad's friends and the townspeople celebrate him in a way he knows won't happen at home. He decides to enjoy it.

The days turn into months, and they refine into years. The League takes ten years when they can finally come to rescue him.

Billy: Friends!

Superman: Captain!

Wonder Woman: Brother! Thank Athena you're in one piece. It took us a few weeks to find your location. We feared that something…

Flash: Buddy, you look younger, or is it my imagination?

Billy: Well… it's been a bit more than a week for me…

Superman: You can tell us at home. The portal won't last long.

The now twenty-year-old man looks back. It is not his childhood that frames his gaze; he left that place long ago. But he has waited for this moment for so long that... he already had some short-term plans in mind... He has lived ten years as Billy Batson and ten years as Billy the Fifth Magi.

Flash: Cap… how long has it been? Flash seems to understand Billy's dilemma a little.

"Ten years."

That makes everyone hug him. Billy cries with happiness.

Billy: I’ve helped this world a lot. I’ve met many countries… I’ve been the Magi of several of them. I feel like I’ve learned a lot. But despite having enjoyed it here so much… I don't forget my role as the champion of magic at home… let's go back.

The people of our dimension also have the right to their own Magi to protect them. I have many stories to tell you. There was a really cool guy named Sinbad, a boy named Alibaba who reminds me of myself, a little Magi named Aladdin, and this pink-haired girl like Jinx who was as strong as you, Diana.

But I'm happy they arrived now. If they had arrived seven years ago, they would have had to face Sinbad, the king of the seven seas.

-------

Hi!, I am participating in BILLY BATSON WEEK 2025! @marybatson

Day 1 | u are here | Day 3

[maryymaruu]

I present to you, the Iterator oc number two, the child that refused to be named, now having many, hah! _(:3 」∠)_

While I adore the true name I finally scrambled for him, and couldn't resist disclosing it, for lore reasons it'd be best to address him with his title;

Sentinel Of The Unforgiven, [SOTU] or just The Sentinel.

This one's novel is even longer, so for those who don't have the patience, the trivia board on the ref is a pretty good TLDR! ^^);

This guy needs to have quite a few more clarifications made first, as I'm stepping quite further away from the canon here, and even more into fanfiction/AU territory.

Some background;

[We're talking about one and the same group Three Signals (TS) is included in. They are neighbours of Sliver Of Straw, far away from in-game locations.]

- This group exists in a very mountainous area, and from the very beginning, the Benefactors decided it's more efficient to use their already existing underground tunnels (from drilling for Void Fluid) as a transportation modus; turned into an underground train system for Iterator construction process. That system runs quite far into the group, connecting Iterators like roots, with SOTU at the near center (first one built in the area).

- Due to some harsh weather conditions and poor decisions the city was equipped with "wind-breaking" walls, giving a quite claustrophobic effect. Citizens began feeling discomfort there even before resource problems.

- Once the resource demand problem became eminent, the citizens expressed lack of care or attachment to the city and/or the Iterator. It was agreed upon to simply use the underground trains to relocate to now already standing, various newer cities.

- The justice system is... blurry at best. This post is getting too long already so I'll fully explain it another time; for now it's only important to know SOTU is not the one judging the criminals, he merely holds them up to the verdict.

- The notion of "a stay in SOTU's city feels like a punishment in itself" became wide spread amongst the Benefactors. In face of necessity it evolved into an effort to make it a reality; SOTU was repurposed into a prison facility. Instead of upgrading him to be able to be more habitable, they completed the claustrophobic city with taller sealed walls and gates, and a new set of laws/taboos for the Iterator to obey. Making for a secure, depressing, fully automated trap box.

Now more about the Sentinel himself...

SOTU has always been a rather reserved personality that struggled to express emotion or weakness. There was a specific idea he had to live up to, (be it conditioned into him or self-imposed) of someone competent, serious and strong. Giving off a strict, cold and unapproachable first impression. The Group Senior that believes he has to carry the woes of the world on his shoulders alone and never break, in order to be a good example.

However, despite poorly expressing it, SOTU does deeply care about his people and about his peers. And always tried his best to be someone they can relay on, without directly admitting it though. Like a grumpy old man, would chew one out for making a mistake first, and then help them out of trouble, without sparing any effort.

Would never admit it, but feels quite hurt by how easily his citizens decided to abandon him, and resents them for what he's been turned into. He really tried to take care of everyone. He doesn't enjoy what his city has become, he doesn't enjoy being feared. Secretly wished it was a lot more like something that of TS's city... full of life, bonded and happy, but is unable to let go of the false idea what a Senior should be like, denying himself vulnerability to even express that.

The reformatting into a prison only worsened this problem. The new, additional programming discouraged acts of compassion or affection. (So that he doesn't pity the prisoners)

Despite best efforts, his group did not integrate very well. His ways of handling things left much to be desired, some labeling him a tyrant no one can ever reason with. Some just simply disliked him too much to ever relay on his advice. Communicating within the group was difficult, hence why eventually many stopped bothering and kept to themselves, or to smaller private cliques.

The repressed emotional impulses did catch up to him eventually, allowing for small acts of disobedience against the law.

Didn't stop SOTU from feeling it though. And feeling he sure did....

Those efforts were too little too late, inadequate to prevent the conflicts escalating into hostility. Once an arrest warrant was cast from the Benefactors above, there was nothing he could do. And once the poorly integrated group got a taste of connection against a "common enemy" it was over.

Delays, stalling, omitted reports, "errors", "lost" data, "unreceived" broadcasts... All in efforts to keep the prisoner numbers low, and make the stay of those present shorter and more bearable. Ignoring all reports about what was going on in TS's city in particular- hoping to at least protect something SOTU could never be.

(More to come)

TS got hurt, and the lively community on top was broken up. It is unclear who is responsible for the malware attack idea, nor who exactly deployed it, but SOTU feels fully responsible regardless. He wallows in ever growing guilt and regret since.

[changingplumbob]

Sorting Ceremony - Part One

At long last all contestants have been met and it is time to score and group them. Me, Deanna, our parents, my younger brother and younger sister arrive on set for today's unenviable task.

Devin: How are you feeling De?

Deanna: Honestly? I was tossing and turning all night about getting it wrong and hurting people's feelings

Artemisia: They should be afraid

Calista: Nonsense Emisia, no one is going home yet

Devin: How have you decided to score them?

Deanna: Oh a bunch of ways. Our first impressions of each other and how much friendship and romance was built is the main one

Deanna: Then also how compatible I think we are and how attractive I find them

Artemisia: You heard it here first, Deanna is shallow

Aaron: Emisia, enough or you'll be sent home

Artemisia: *sighs* Sorry pa

Devin: Sounds sensible to me

Deanna: Do I have to like, tell them individually?

Devin: Not this time

Devin: There's 30 of them. Simply tell them in batches

Deanna: Right, batches

Joey: What about groups

Deanna: I'm assuming that comes after scores, Devin?

Devin: Yes so tell them where they stand before getting on to the names of the group in the first round and who is where

Deanna: Watcher I hope they don't all quit over group names

Joey: They should know you're robot brained, and if they have a problem with it just blame Reece since it was his idea

The contestants file in and take seats arranged by the order in which they met my sister. Some look nervous, others confident, and a few downright sad.

Devin: Buongiorno everyone and welcome to our sorting ceremony. Please remember none of you will be sent home now. Before we get in to specifics we have some introductions to make. You have all met Deanna and Joey but we have a few more family members joining us today. On my far left is our wonderful mama Calista

Calista: Hi everyone! I'm looking forward to meeting you

Devin: The distinguished gentleman on my far right is our papa Aaron

Aaron: Hello *nods*

Devin: And sitting right beside me on her best behaviour is our youngest sister Emisia

Artemisia: Hi! So only my family can call me Emisia. And then you can only call me Emi if you're my friend. So from all of you I expect to be addressed as Artemisia. Anyone who asks what my dead name was is immediately disqualified

Devin: Yeah that's not official rules

Deanna: Asking about people's dead name is just bad manners in general though

Devin: De, you want to tell us the scores

Deanna: Right *stands* now remember these scores do include first impressions so order will likely change as we get to know each other. Some scores are tied, so you'll be listed alphabetically if you and someone else share the same score

Deanna: The top three got amazing scores. It was wonderful to chat with you Lara, Dee and Evelyn

Deanna: Then with still strong scores we have Cassiel, Kay B, Apolline, Isla and Kennedy. As well as Harmony, Nephinae and Callie

Deanna: Fractionally behind them we have Isabella, Mariela, Jerrica, Kristina, and Hana. Along with Kaye G, Nicola and Quetzalli

Deanna: At the other end of the scoreboard we have Alaina, Billie, Nyami and Sarah

Deanna: Last of the pack but still not out is Yasmine, Abigail, Elise, Berenice, Arista, Posy and Nathalie

If you have a contestant in the running please answer the form below with a statement on how they feel about their progress sometime in the next week.

@abbysimsfun, @ashubii, @bakersimmer, @belsasim, @berrysims-lp, @cawthorntales, @daedriyth, @eljeebee, @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants, @fallin4fiction, @hashimasims, @igglemouse, @invisiblequeen, @jonquilyst, @lostinsixam, @matchalovertrait, @paracosmic-sims, @perolesims, @pixeldistractions, @ravingsockmonkey, @riverofjazzsims, @sanitysims, @simscici, @simstagramsomeone, @sleepyselkiesims

[melanchoire]

hiya!! can i get a wonyoung ceo sugar mommy meal x secretary reader meal! wony making sure all ur needs are met financially and well.. sexually!! she drools whenever u bend down to pick up random files she "dropped" throat going dry at seeing ur ass so perfect!! :(( wanting to rail u in her office!!

cw: cunnilingus, fingering, semi exhibitionism??

ceo wonyoung who looks intimidating and is usually demanding or bossy with the rest of the employees except for her beloved secretary whom she appreciates so much 💗 maybe it’s because from the first time she saw you during the first and only interview you did for the job, you managed to win her attention and heart

and she is super nice and sweet to you! when you arrive at the company you always go to her office first, saying good morning to her and handing over the already completed paperwork or waiting for her to tell you what your task is for today, but you always bring her a steaming cup of coffee along with some toast or a bill because wonyoung usually focuses a lot on her work and and there are days when she forgets to eat breakfast or can't eat properly :( and she is so grateful to you that she usually gives you extra money to buy your own breakfast at the cafeteria that's a couple of blocks from the building, and even though you try to deny it and convince her that it’s not necessary, she does it anyway! making you accept it by giving you a sweet look and a small but beautiful smile

wonyoung also usually takes you to your apartment the times you leave work very late because you stayed up late finishing paperwork or getting some of your work done in advance so that you’re not so overloaded later on. you can try to deny it and tell her that you’re fine taking the bus, but she ends up driving to your house anyway, saying that it’s no problem for her because driving to your apartment is on her way home even when she lives in the opposite direction 🥰

just as wonyoung is sweet to you, she is also depraved in her thoughts. every time you lean over to put something down on her desk, her gaze falls on your cleavage and she admires how your shirt is tight enough for her to see the outline of your breasts — or when you throw something on the floor like a folder or a simple pen, having a pencil skirt and stiletto heels it's somewhat uncomfortable to bend over on your heels to pick something up from the floor, so you decide to just lean forward to grab the object and give her a delicious view of your ass under your skirt? you were practically begging wonyoung to pull down your skirt (or just hike it up a little because it looks so pretty on you) and fuck you right there!

and you always maintain a polite attitude and good manners when it comes to your beloved boss. everyone in the company may address her as “mrs. jang” but hearing that name come out of your lips just makes her want to know what it would sound like if it came out of your lips but you were moaning under her while she takes care of giving you the good fuck you deserve for all your effort working hard day and night 💕

until one day you show up at her office to deliver some documents, but unlike usual, your attitude is downcast and you’re quite tired. wonyoung just thinks you’re a little sleepy because it’s early in the morning, but when she looks up from her laptop she sees your tired expression and dark circles under your eyes :( she feels bad for giving you so much work even if it's your duty to complete the tasks and requests she gives you because that is your job as her secretary!! but seeing how tired and exhausted you look makes her feel bad and she can’t help but blame herself

“what happened, (y/n)? didn’t you sleep well enough last night?”

“i stayed up late to finish a couple of documents. plus, i lost the internet last night and it took me almost two hours to email you the files. sorry, boss.”

and she gets up from her desk chair, walking over to you and massaging your shoulders to soothe your tense muscles, moving down to massage your arms with her palms until her hands are caressing your chest and suddenly she is squeezing your tits through your shirt 😳 your eyes widen at her sudden action, looking up at her face only for her to tell you, “shhh, don’t worry. i will take that stress off of you.”

kissing wonyoung while running your hands through her silky wavy hair 😵‍💫 wonyoung is quite the perfectionist and likes to have a neat image, not allowing absolutely anyone to touch her hair or neat suit, but you’re her sweet girl and she has been longing for months to have your hands in her hair

parting from your lips to kiss all over your jaw and neck and leaving marks of her red lip gloss in the process 🥴 wonyoung knows that later before you leave her office she will have to make sure to remove the lipstick marks from your skin because she knows what her company’s employees are like, but she wants to see her marks on your skin as she makes you hers

“if anyone asks why you took so long in my office, you will say that we were discussing a couple of matters regarding the upcoming conference we will have next week, got it sweetie?” wonyoung is aware that she doesn’t have to give any explanations at all because she is the boss of the place and no one should dare to question her, but she is aware that gossips and bad tongues exist in the workplace, so she has to prepare an explanation beforehand!! just in case 😉

making you sit on her desk with your legs spread for her, exposing your delicate pussy to her hungry gaze… she doesn't know if you're nervous about being so exposed to her or because her desk is literally facing away from a giant floor–to–ceiling window in her office, but either way, she loves both options 🫣

fucking your hole with her tongue while her delicate hands keep a grip on your thighs to make sure they are open, not taking her gaze off yours at any time and keeping her eyes on yours at all times 😩 she knows she should tell you something when you eventually close your eyes and let your head fall back, but you’ve always been so good to her that she doesn’t dare scold you now

ohhh and her lips covered in your juices closing around your clit as she pumps two long fingers in and out of you… maybe this could be wonyoung’s new lip gloss instead of the expensive makeup she buys once a month

squirting all over her face and dirtying the desk beneath you, completely embarrassing for you but a blessing for her 🫠

rising from between your legs, joining her lips with yours so you can taste yourself on her tongue, separating for a moment to say “come to my office during lunch time. i have yet to reward you for doing such a good job for me.”

[ddlydevotion]

HE'S VENUS AS A BOY ⊹˚₊･

boyfriend! hamzah x fem reader headcanons ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

a/n: this is purely FICTION if u couldn’t already tell.

Hamzah is the first person you run to when it’s time to gossip. He gets sooo sassy sometimes it’s honestly hilarious. You can always count on him to channel his bitchy side when the two of you are talking about someone you don’t like. He constantly has you wondering how he even comes up with the insults he uses for the people you don’t get along with. Like, what possessed you to say that shit ໒꒰ྀི˶╥︿╥꒱ྀི১ ? At least you know he’ll always have your back!

you always help dress him up when Martin and him decide to be in costume for a podcast episode. I’ve mentioned this in the first post I made about him, but he would absolutely ask you to help him out with his costumes. If he’s wearing makeup/a wig/feminine clothing, he’s making you help him. Not that you’d need that much convincing anyway.

like, literally look at him. Him in those little braids is gonna kill meee ohmygod 😭.

prefers to have you around when he’s editing a video. He loves being able to have you sit on his lap while he works on putting out a video for the day. Your feedback is something he values an incredible amount, and he’s always asking for your opinion when it comes to music choices, text styles, transitions, etc.

Constantly sending you updates on his day when the two of you are away from each other. You could be out n about running some errands, and you’ll receive tons of messages from Hamzah saying what he’s doing at that exact moment.

“me and the cats miss u 😞.” “babyyyyy do u know when you’ll be home” “do you want me to order something before u get back home?”

Hamzah most definitely refers to you as your cat’s ‘mom’. He’ll be holding one of your cats in his arms, talking to them in a baby voice before saying: “wanna say hi to mama?”

You helped prepare his food when he was in the process of bulking up for his boxing match with Martin. Okay, baby, so you need 16 eggs? Coming right up!

Hamzah is constantly putting you on to new music. some of your favorite songs are ones that he recommended to you.

He always finds an excuse to talk about you. There are countless clips of Hamzah rambling on n on about you, sharing cute little stories that he has stored up about his sweet girlfriend. There’s even a funny clip of Martin saying, “here he go y’all 😒”, meanwhile Hamzah is practically powering up to start talking about you. Martin doesn’t actually have a problem with it he just likes teasing Hamzah about how ‘whipped’ he is.

During his boxing match with Martin, you could be seen wearing your very own version of Mandy’s shirt.

He is almost ALWAYS taking photos of you with those stupid ass filters on. He finds it soo funny and uses those photos as stickers/reaction pictures when he’s texting you. Aside from that, he loves taking photos of you and it’s to the point where his photo gallery might as well be dedicated to you at this point.

He is INSANELY clingy. It honestly gets even more intense when he’s high. It’s to the point where you’re convinced he’s trying to burrow himself within your skin.

when you’re in the same room as him & Martin while they’re filming a podcast, his eyes are always darting behind the camera to admire you. It’s soso cute because he’s all smiley and everyone knows that he’s looking at you behind the camera.

Him trying to telepathically communicate with you while you’re behind the camera:

[traincat]

do you have any new spideytorch fics in current progress? of course no worries if not but i just wanted to ask. i’m absolutely obsessed with your writing and your fics!!

Thank you!

I sort of have two things I started, but haven't made a ton of progress on. I'm a little busy between work and a big bang in a different fandom, so these have been put to the side for now, but looking at them does make me want to finish them.

Fic 1 is a Just Married installment set in the future because I thought amnesia would be a fun trope to play with in the context of that universe. Basically, Peter gets whammied, forgets he ever fake-but-for-real married Johnny, and has to work out his feelings, which is horrible for him.

Peter picked up the framed photo, tilting it towards the light. He and Johnny stood at the center, splattered in -- he hoped it was paint. There was a gaggle of kids surrounding them, including two young brunet boys. One was clinging to Johnny's legs. The other was holding a water gun to Peter's head. “Our twin boys,” Johnny said, his hand pressed to his heart. “Threaderick and Weavon.” Peter nearly dropped the photo. “I’m just messing with you,” Johnny said. “That was from the day Bentley temporarily cloned himself. Which is pretty funny because he’s already a clone.” “It’s impossible to tell if any word coming out of your mouth is serious,” Peter said. “Johnny, I need you to be serious with me. Do we – do we have kids?” “No,” Johnny said, his mouth pressed into an unhappy line. He looked away from Peter. “We don’t have kids.”

Fic 2 is not even remotely presenting itself as serious. Like less so than the spider attracting body butter fic. I don't for a single second believe Peter would let Johnny's mustache from the North run go without comment.

Peter had been accused, by various people in his life, of being a variety of less than flattering things. Neurotic. Overprotective. Mildly overbearing. (“Stalkeresque,” Betty drawled from her desk, shooting him a nasty look. “Not a word, Betts,” Peter said, and kissed her on the top of her head as he dropped off her brown sugar latte. “Parker!” Jonah shouted from his office. “Do you even work here anymore?!” “Adios!” Peter said, and beat it before Jonah could call security.) (the FF come back from idk. space or whatever. I'm not pretending this canon compliant with North's run, I just want to make mustache jokes.) “I’m warning you, Bug,” Ben said. “You’re not going to like what you see.” (what he sees is the mustache. he does not like it.) -- “I don’t get what the problem is,” Harry said, waving a lofty hand in the air. “So he wants to grow a mustache. Let him grow a mustache.” “The problem is it’s hideous,” Peter said. “It’s like looking a dead, blond weasel on his upper lip.” “You liked the mustache I had back in college,” Harry said, stroking the corners of his mouth with thumb and forefinger. He shrugged. “I guess not everyone can pull it off.” Peter decided to break it to him easy. “You know I love you, right, Har?” he said. “You’re my best friend. I’ll always be there for you.” “Aw,” Harry said. Then suspicion dawned on his face. “Wait. What are you getting at?” “I hated the mustache, Harry,” Peter said. (blah blah blah) “Gwen liked the mustache, though, right?” Harry said. “Gwen said she liked it. She said it made me look like a malfeasant.” Peter didn’t bother to ask if Harry knew what that meant. “Gwen paid MJ fifty bucks to shave it off while you were sleeping.” “Huh,” Harry said. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Wow. I haven’t had the urge to get Dad’s Green Goblin gear out of storage in a long time.” “Good talk, Harry,” Peter said. -- Johnny had his waxer on speed dial and a biweekly appointment at New York’s most exclusive salon. There was no way the mustache was going to last. Peter gave it a week. A week and a half, tops. (blah blah blah) “Johnny,” Peter said, taking him by the shoulders. “Sunshine. Firefly. Light of my life.” His gaze dropped to the mustache and then back up to Johnny’s eyes. “Is this war?” “I have no idea what you mean,” Johnny said, but he reached up and twirled one end of the mustache. Sparks danced in his eyes. Peter’s jaw clenched. War it was.

I'm titling this one Mustache You a Question, obviously.

[reinbouxsworld]

Hey so like sorry if you're the wrong person to say this to but I love Jamil's character so much and it makes me so mad that the fandom takes Kalim's side in his ob when they're so much more sympathetic to everyone else's ob situation. Like all the ob's are caused by trauma so no olympics but Jamil was Kalim's slave??? He was literally fighting to stop being his slave? To the son of a rich merchant family that could decide the fate of his whole family?? The stakes were so fucking high. Kalim not knowing says everything about his relative privilege and nothing about his innocence. Kalim's saving grace was his willingness to change when he learned, but that slave-relationship was multigenerational and Jamil had no guarantee it would happen if he "asked for his freedom". I think the fandom has some real inner reckoning to consider about why Kalim crying is more upsetting than Jamil's (and his family's) life.

OKAY I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ON THIS ONE.

﹙𝑡𝑤𝑠𝑡.﹚ ─ WHY JAMIL TRAUMA IS (BUT SHOULDN'T BE) DOWNPLAYED

﹙ or why i support jamil viper rights and wrongs﹚

──────────────────────────────────────

٬٬ I think the most obvious reason is that Kalim, by being a very kind and often naïve person, wins people over quickly (myself included). He’s sweet, kind, and honest. He just wants to have a good time with his friends—he’s easy to be around and talk to. More often than not, a "happy person" is easier to forgive than someone you’re not as close to.

But what do I mean by that?

Jamil is not used to being himself. He always has to manage and calculate his every step to ensure he doesn’t overshadow Kalim’s presence, even though, by merit, he could be in the spotlight (which, at this point, I see as an unspoken Viper family tradition). And it’s not just when Kalim is around — even when Jamil is alone, he’s still under pressure to maintain his facade. We do see glimpses of him sometimes, especially after the overblot, where he's a little bit more acidic, smug and sincere, but the reality is that his entire life has been shaped around a forced role. The most frustrating part of his story is that when Jamil got to NRC, he had a brief moment of freedom—only for it to be taken away again by Kalim’s overwhelming presence. And the worst part? He wasn’t even chosen to be there. Kalim literally bought his way into NRC just to be with Jamil. I don’t think people fully realize how hopeless that must have made an already frustrated teenager feel. He had no choice but to start over, once again masking himself under Kalim’s shadow.

I won’t go into the nuances of his initial actions leading up to the overblot, but they clearly show his frustrations, especially when he hypnotized Kalim to do his own work as a housewarden.

And then, right after all the resentment and fight, we get Kalim crying over his friend. Of course, as you said, Kalim’s willingness to change is a big reason why the fandom takes his side. It makes sense— he genuinely wants to be a good friend. But the frustrating part is that people still reduce Jamil to just "the scheming servant" while ignoring everything else we see in the chapter. Kalim’s willingness to change is important, but it doesn’t undo the years of pressure, resentment, and lack of autonomy Jamil has endured. At the end of the day, Kalim can change, but Jamil? He’s still bound by the same expectations, the same role, the same system.

If you don’t look deeper into each chapter, it’s easy to sum up an overblot with a simple explanation: "Riddle is acting like his mom," "Leona is throwing a tantrum because he’s not king," and so on. I think we are often drawn more to the breaking point than to the underlying cause of it. But in Jamil’s case, the most obvious problem is also the one people tend to overlook: Jamil was — and, by definition, still is —Kalim’s servant. More than that, all Vipers still are.

The reason Jamil seems "fine" is because, unlike the others, he can’t change the very thing that made him feel this way in the first place. To be clear, I’m not downplaying any of the other boys' trauma—I’m speaking from a storytelling and borderline objective perspective. Most of the other characters could change their circumstances if they wanted to (again, i'm not saying it is easy or simple). Many of them have the resources and/or support networks to do so. But Jamil doesn’t. Even after his overblot, while Kalim gets to grow and change, Jamil is still stuck playing the same role. He may have a little more space to breathe, but his reality remains the same—his life is still controlled by the Al-Asim family.

────────

[3liza]

Wh... why are you making tiny salty gelatin cubes?

really valid question. i have a chronic condition called Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, which causes a lot of symptoms of various kinds but the big ones are feeling faint and weak and having low blood pressure from not having enough blood! so POTS patients are medically advised to eat 10 grams of salt or more every day, plus the other electrolytes, to make us hold onto water better and increase the volume of our blood.

it's pretty hard to eat enough salt. you can buy salt or electrolyte pills and drinks and drink powders, and all of them are pretty good. my favorite is strawberry pedialyte. but it's really expensive, and the individual minerals by themselves are cheap, so salt pills are the more economical option. the problem with salt pills, especially for people who have trouble eating anyway (which i do) is that dropping a salt tablet into an empty stomach, or sometimes even a full stomach, can make your stomach pissed off and give you nausea or vomiting. not everyone has this issue but i definitely do.

i started making my own salt pills with regular table salt, then started adding powdered gelatin into the capsules to help buffer the salt. i need more protein anyway because my collagen is fucked. the gelatin buffer worked really well, i could take my gelatin-salt pills on an empty stomach no problem and my hair and nails were growing better, BUT buying empty gelcaps all the time was also expensive.

so i decided to try melting the gelatin into jello or gummi blobs and turning it into a small shape i could swallow easily. and actually i just popped all the little hemispheres out of their silicon sheet just now and it worked PRETTY well, but i need to look up how to make hard gelatin because a lot of them started to melt as soon as they got up to room temp even though the water-gelatin ratio should have been stable, possibly from the salt content making the gelatin hydrophilic idk.

i would post a pic but the gelatin browned as it was melting so they look DISGUSTING. next time i'm going to add some grape jelly or something for color because this is awful. they're fine as "pills" though

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

warnings: 18+!! smut, fluff & a little angst. mentions of panic attacks/anxiety, kidnapping, alcohol, drugs, addiction, murder and assault.

pairing: Gangster!Sihtric x Psychologist!Reader (f) (no use of Y/N)

summary: You knew it wouldn't be easy when one of the most notorious gangsters in town stepped into your therapy room, but you never expected that you'd have to decide between your mind or following your heart.

word count: 9,6k

Masterlist

Reblogs & comments are immensely appreciated.

The Intake.

'You look like you don't want to be here.'

'Because I don't.'

You stared at Sihtric, your new patient, who would undoubtedly be a tough nut to crack in the appointments that hopefully followed after his intake. You observed his entire demeanor from the second he entered your therapy room, and it told you everything you needed to know to make up your mind about whether he was in the right place or not.

He sat with his arms crossed, his black t-shirt showing off his toned biceps, and he bit down on his lip as he subtly fidgeted with the rings around tattooed fingers, while he preferred to direct his mismatched eyes at anything but you. His black jeans hugged his muscular legs as he sat with his knees spread, bouncing one rapidly while his black boots were planted firmly on the carpeted floor. His dark curls were long on one side and completely shaved off on the other, which brought out the sharp features of his handsome but slightly scarred face. 

He was visibly uncomfortable and reluctant to open up, and he would most likely continue to be so. You didn't need more than two seconds to establish that fact.

'If you don't want to be here, or perhaps feel you don't need to be here, then why did you agree to come?' you asked.

Sihtric shrugged, then finally looked at you again for the first time since you had shook his hand upon welcoming him. 'Isn't that your job to figure out, miss?' 

'Not quite,' you smiled politely, 'but it is my job to help you.'

'Help,' Sihtric scoffed lightly, then brought his eyes back to the ceiling again.

You've dealt with countless challenging patients who shared their life stories and struggles with you over time, but you couldn't deny that having Sihtric Kjartansson as a patient was a little nerve wracking, even for an experienced psychologist such as yourself. You knew who he was, but then everyone knew who he was in this town and its neighbouring cities. You knew just like everyone that Sihtric was one of the masterminds behind numerous targeted explosions, robberies, violent attacks, and even a couple of deaths and missing people cases that had occurred in town over the past years, and God knows what else he had been a part of. Everyone knew Sihtric was guilty of the most heinous acts, the problem was just that no one could pin it on him or his fellow gangsters; Uhtred, Finan and Osferth. 

People in town weren't necessarily scared of them, but everyone also knew it was best to not create a reason for that either. The gangsters didn't usually come after the regular folk. So if you had no trouble with them, then they would have no trouble with you, and they'd actually be more than willing to help you out here and there if you'd ask them. And they could help with anything, you'd name it. Need a vehicle fixed? Finan would know a guy. Need to loan some money because you're behind on rent? Uhtred would cover you. Need some heaving lifting done around the house? Sihtric was your man. Need to spread the word about that new business you just started? Osferth was on it. However, if you did cross any of the men and ended up on their bad side? Then your days would be numbered. And surely the kind of life Sihtric lived wasn't a very good one when it came to his mental health.

'You've had panic attacks recently, no?' you asked.

Sihtric looked at you and clenched his jaw. He was silent, but his mind was loud as flashbacks hit him immediately. Images of the night on which he was brutally taken from his barstool at the local stripclub months ago still haunted him. Along with his three companions, he was dragged outside the building by masked men and shoved into a van, before they were knocked out with a crowbar. Each time he remembered how he had gained consciousness that night and found himself tied upside down dangling from a tree, alongside his friends, it triggered a panic attack. The same way that he had experienced a panic attack at that very moment itself. 

'I don't know if it was panic attacks,' Sihtric lied. His heart was pounding in his chest, his leg bounced faster than before, and he started to become a little lightheaded. 'I mean, yeah, maybe, who knows,' he then said, agitated, 'look, I don't want to get into that right now.'

Osferth was the one who had tried to keep him calm that night, until they were able to escape their slow and horrible deaths. But that night never left him, despite getting away from it alive and rather unharmed physically. The head injuries they all suffered were a concern at first, but after a check up from their private doctor, Eadith, they were declared as healthy as could be. But for Sihtric, it couldn't be further from the truth. The panic attacks kept taking him by surprise ever since, and it became a concern for everyone around him as he became a liability too. But his doctor figured it was a mental problem, so there was nothing she could do except refer him to a psychologist, but you weren't aware of the reason behind all his recent anxiety.

'But that is why you are here, even if you aren't sure what exactly it is that you experience when you feel like that,' you reminded him. 'And it's not just the suspected panic attacks as to why you are here. Your recent compulsion to violence has been a problem too.'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Sihtric lied again.

'The nightclub incident last weekend?' you hinted, 'it's been all over the news for days, Sihtric.'

He quietly remembered his last violent outburst, only a few nights ago, when a man had bumped into him at a club and spilled his drink all over Sihtric's new shoes. Sihtric had grabbed the unfortunate man by his shirt and punched him in the face, after which he had thrown him over the balcony railing of the first floor on which the incident had occurred. At least, that's the story that was told afterwards by "witnesses". The truth was that Sihric had indeed grabbed and repeatedly punched the man, but he had never thrown him off the balcony. The man had simply stumbled backwards and accidentally fallen over the railing, landing on the dancefloor below and breaking several bones as a result.

'I didn't mean for that to happen.'

'But it happened,' you said, 'why?'

'He spilled his drink all over me.'

'And that was the reason to throw him off a balcony?' your voice remained calm.

'I never threw him,' Sihtric retorted, 'I hit him, yes. But he fell on his own, it was an accident. And he's still alive,' he threw his hands up, 'so what's the big deal?'

'What made you respond the way you did that night?'

'Gods, I don't know,' he sighed, 'alcohol? Drugs? Combination of the two?'

'So you were under influence? And before you answer that, just know that if you were to tell me anything that could incriminate you, I do have to report that to the authorities.'

Sihtric stared at you, his gaze piercing as he carefully contemplated his response.

'I wasn't clear headed,' he confessed with caution, 'but I do know it was an accident.'

'Did you experience a panic attack before or after that moment?'

'No,' he lied, again.

'What did you do after the accident?'

'I went home.'

'Alone?'

'What is this, an interrogation?' he scoffed, 'yes, alone.'

'And how did you feel when you were home that night, by yourself?'

'Sick,' he chuckled, 'I threw up.'

'As a result of a panic attack?'

'As a result of drinking and using too much. Look,' he said and momentarily buried his face in his hands, 'with all due respect, okay, but I don't think therapy will help me with this.'

'You think talking won't help you?'

'It won't.'

'Is that what you truly believe?' you asked, 'or is that what you were always taught to believe?'

Sihtric had no response to that, and he felt his chest tighten while his heart began to race again. He had to get out of the room immediately, because he suddenly felt trapped. He felt the rope tied around his ankles and hands again, cutting into his skin as he desperately tried to get out of it while he hung upside down from that tree. He felt the blood rush to his head again and he became dizzy, his vision blurred while his chest ached, and it seemed as if he just couldn't fill his lungs with the air he needed. And so without a word he got up and stormed out, leaving you behind, confused but not entirely surprised.

One week after intake.

'I'm surprised you came back,' you smiled, 'but also very glad you did.'

Sihtric looked around your therapy room again and, like the first time, struggled to lock eyes with you for unknown reasons. He was dressed in all black again, and this time he wore a leather jacket over his t-shirt. He once again sat with his arms crossed, indicating that despite the fact he had decided to visit you for a second time, he still wasn't willing to fully open up to you. He did seem a little more relaxed this time; he still fidgeted with his rings, but he didn't bounce his knee as rapidly like last time.

'How did you feel after our last meeting?'

Sihtric shrugged for an answer.

'Have you been experiencing anything that resembled a panic attack ever since?'

'No.' 

He clearly lied, something you figured would become a usual thing if you didn't address it right away.

'Sihtric,' you said with a soft sigh, 'I am not expecting you to tell me everything about yourself right off the bat. But you've got to work with me if you decide to come here. I need you to stop lying-'

'I'm not lying.'

'I know you are,' you said calmly, 'and you need to stop that. I can't help you if you continue to lie. There is no shame in coming here. There is no shame in needing help. And there is no shame in telling the truth either. But you've got to start telling me the truth.'

Sihtric looked at you, a faint blush settled on his cheeks when he realised you saw right through him, and he felt embarrassed. You noticed his embarrassment as he quietly stared at the carpet beneath his boots, and you gave him a moment to readjust himself.

'Why don't you start by telling me about your past?' you suggested, 'what was it like when you were growing up?'

'I'm sure you know as much about that as everyone else does in this town.'

'I want to hear it from you,' you said, 'I want to hear how you experienced growing up.'

'Well, it sucked,' Sihtric said with a light chuckle, masking the bitter feelings he still felt when thinking about it, 'my mother died giving birth to me, and my father never wanted to acknowledge me as his son because my mother was his mistress. One of many, actually,' he shook his head disapprovingly, 'although he couldn't quite abandon me apparently, he didn't care to look after me much either. We all know he ran an empire of shady business, he did things I definitely don't approve of either, but he did eventually give me jobs as I grew up. The fucked up jobs though, only Sven got the fun jobs,' he almost mumbled, 'but me? For me it was cleaning up the literal mess after a deal went wrong, and burying the people they had killed as a result. We all know about that, we all know what he did, but I was the one cleaning it up for him. In public he'd ignore me and in private he'd assault me. My father was a piece of shit right up until the day that he died. So, yeah, I don't feel incredibly warm and fuzzy when I think about my childhood.'

'How did you feel when your father died?'

'Better,' Sihtric said, 'for a moment. I learned that the joy of watching him die was only momentary, while the pain of what he did to me never left, nor did the scars.'

'You served time for your involvement in his murder, correct?'

'I did.'

'What was that like?'

'I'm not looking to go back to prison,' Sihtric said with a faint smile, 'but at least I didn't have to worry about my father or my stepbrother anymore. I only served a couple of years anyway,' he shrugged, 'the only thing the scars on my body were good for was to get a reduced sentence, as part of why I was involved with his death was seen as a trauma response.'

'Do you believe it was a trauma response?'

'Maybe, I don't know.'

'Do you still struggle with your past?'

'Not as much,' Sihtric said, 'it's been a long time ago, and I ended up doing well for myself.'

'By stepping into your father's shoes in a way?' you chuckled lightly.

Sihtric laughed softly at that; a gentle and joyful sound that caught you by surprise and made your heart flutter. It was the first time you saw him truly smile for a brief moment.

'Didn't you say that I can incriminate myself here?' he smiled almost slyly as he looked at you.

'You don't have to go into detail,' you smiled and felt yourself blush under his gaze, 'I'm aware of the stories about you, but I am not the person who is here to judge you, as I also don't know what is true and what isn't. And I don't need to know that either, as long as we can have honest and open conversations about the things that you struggle with. I want to get to the roots of those panic attacks and violent outbursts you've experienced as of late, so I can help you cope and overcome them. That is all I want, really, I am not looking to get you into trouble.'

'You sure about that?' he asked, still smiling as he titled his head slightly sideways while he bit down on his lip.

'I…,' you chuckled, a little flustered, 'just, eh, tell me if you have been experiencing stress lately for example?'

'Stress? You have no idea.'

'Tell me, if you can.'

'My ex-wife is an example,' he said, followed by a deep sigh, 'I want nothing to do with her anymore, but she keeps finding ways to contact me.'

'What does she want?'

'Money.'

'Do you give her money?'

'Yes,' he admitted, 'only in the hope that she'll leave me alone, because I know she won't stop calling or ringing my doorbell until I answer and give her some cash. She's a whore and an addict, and I'm sorry to say that, but it's the truth. And for some reason I'm still her emergency contact, so every time she overdoses or does some other stupid shit that lands her in the hospital or gets her arrested, I'm the one who gets the call and has to fix it.'

'So you feel responsible for her?'

'I am responsible for her.'

'What makes you think that?'

'Well,' Sihtric scoffed, but then stopped talking as he realised what you were trying to say.

He knew he wasn't actually responsible for her, but because she had no one else, he somehow just accepted the burden he had never quite agreed to. And he didn't really know why he had allowed that to drag on for many years after the divorce.

'Sihtric,' you said, 'I can tell that deep down you are a good person, and you want to look after people. But I'm sure others are aware of that too, like your ex, and she most likely just takes advantage of that. If she is a big cause of stress, then you have to limit her presence in your life for your own wellbeing. Maybe stop giving her money when she stops by, or stop taking that emergency call. It won't be easy, I know that, but it's a start and I suggest we try that and go from here. You are not her caregiver, and acting like one isn't helping you or your own health.'

'You were right,' Sihtric smiled, 'cutting off my ex has been liberating.'

Two weeks after intake.

'I am happy to hear that,' you said, 'that's great news.'

Sihtric continued to smile at you, and this time he rested both his hands on his knees, faintly drumming some mindless rhythm with his fingertips.

'How are you feeling today?'

'Better,' he smiled, 'and how are you?'

'Oh,' you chuckled, 'I believe that is the first time you asked me. I am good, thank you. You seem calmer today, and more willing to be here.'

'I am, I guess.'

'I am happy to hear that. I'd like to know what it felt like when you decided to limit contact with your ex.'

'I felt guilty at first,' Sihtric said quietly, his smile slowly fading, 'and I still do sometimes. I don't want her to get hurt or get into trouble, but trying to keep her on track is exactly why we divorced, because I can't fix her. I tried that when we were married and I failed. I failed as a husband.'

'You feel like you failed as a husband?'

'Yeah, I do,' he said, 'you're supposed to always be there for someone when you marry them. But she just lost her way and I couldn't help her. I… I wasn't enough of a reason for her to stay sober, to stay clean, or to even try to stay away from that shit. She loved the drugs more than she loved me,' he shrugged lightly, 'so after what you told me last week, I try to remind myself every day that I am not the one who should take care of her. And I also realised that by giving her money I am just supporting her addiction, which gets her into trouble, it's just a vicious circle and I see that now.'

'You did the right thing. It sounds like you've made some great progress already, Sihtric. And I am proud of you,' you said, and you swore you saw a hopeful glimmer in his eyes as he looked at you. 'So, since our last conversation,' you continued, 'have you been dealing with any violent outbursts or panic attacks? Or anything else that caused you to feel stressed?'

Sihtric hummed softly as if deep in thought, but the memory of how he had threatened someone with a knife a few nights ago was not buried that deep. He had bumped into Haesten in the street, who was another notorious name in the city. Sihtric, not entirely clear headed that night, believed Haesten could be part of the crew who had kidnapped him and his friends, tying them upside down on a tree and leaving them for death. Sihtric wanted some answers, and he hoped that shoving a knife in Haesten's face would do the trick, but the man swore he didn't know anything. Instead, Haesten wanted to make a deal, and he promised Sihtric he'd ask around and find out whoever tried to get them killed and why. Sihtric agreed to that, but once back home he experienced another panic attack on his own as the memories of that brutal kidnapping haunted him once again. That and the fact that he had to constantly watch his back after the failed murder attempt kept him on edge at all times, but he wasn't going to tell you about all of that. Not yet, at least.

'Hmm,' Sihtric then shrugged, 'no, things have been calm. Nothing weird happened.'

'That sounds unrealistic in your life,' you chuckled, 'but if that is your final answer?'

'It is my final answer,' he smiled, 'things have been fine.'

'Good,' you said, 'that is good, I'm happy to hear that.'

'What do you do for fun?' Sihtric suddenly asked.

'What do you mean?'

'You know, when you don't work,' he said, 'you go out during the weekends? Are you single?'

'I- I… don't see how this is relevant, Sihtric.'

'Come on,' he probed, 'I have to sit here and tell you all about me, while I know nothing about you.'

'Well,' you said with a soft sigh, knowing he wasn't going to let this go easily, 'yes, I am single, and yes I also enjoy going to a club every now and then.'

'So… if I'd bump into you on a night out,' Sihtric said, quite cautiously, 'would you let me buy you a drink?'

'Sihtric,' you weakly protested, 'I… that's… these are not things we should discuss in therapy.'

'You ever been with a Dane before?' he smiled slyly.

'Excuse me?' you half scoffed, 'Sihtric, you do realise I am your psychologist, right?'

'But only in this room, right?'

'Right…,' you hesitated, 'listen, I suggest that for the upcoming appointments we keep our conversations a little more professional, okay?'

Sihtric laughed, albeit a little disappointed, and he then decided to drop it. But the fact you didn't tell him to 'get fucked' right away proved that you weren't entirely against the idea of having a drink with him, and that pleased him.

You continued to meet Sihtric weekly, even after his somewhat inappropriate remark, and it seemed he never shied away from flirting again during the appointments that followed. You weren't fully onboard with it, having to remain professional, but you also weren't wholly opposed either. Sihtric was handsome, more than that even, and in a different setting you wouldn't have brushed off his advances so easily.

Sihtric lingered on your mind day and night, long after each appointment was over, and it gnawed at you. The way he gazed at you, the way he smiled at you, the way he subtly licked or bit down on his lip whenever you spoke to him. You remember his scent and the feeling of his warm hands shaking yours whenever he greeted you. He was just so kind and funny, smart too and sweet as well, it was impossible to not swoon over him the more you got to know him. And yet, even after all your conversations, he still remained somewhat of an enigma, which only added to your interest…

But you also knew better than to get romantically involved with a criminal such as Sihtric, because it wouldn't be your first rodeo. And yet you just couldn't quite forget him. And neither could he.

Sihtric had struggled to admit it at first, but he gradually began to see and feel the progress he had made ever since he started opening up to you during the appointments. But more than that, the initial attraction he had felt upon seeing you grew stronger with every week that passed, and he wanted more. He needed more, because he couldn't get enough. Just seeing you and talking to you was not enough to quiet his cravings for you. He wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to taste you and feel you. He wanted to explore every inch of your body, worshipping you, protecting you, and above all wanting to make love to you. 

But beside the primal urges you brought out in him, there was a softness to his feelings too. He felt calm and safe around you, something he hadn't felt for most of his life, and he wanted to cling onto that feeling forever, for as long as he could, but he was also terrified that those safe feelings might just disappear someday. Because everything good he had experienced in his life had never been long lasting.

So when you broke the news to him after a few months of seeing each other in your therapy room that you were taking three weeks off from work, he felt the tell-tale symptoms of a panic attack, and he couldn't hide it no matter how hard he tried.

You calmed him down that appointment, reassuring him that you weren't leaving for good and that there was always an emergency number he could text if he needed to. All of that did ease his mind, and downing a glass of cold water helped too. But it didn't repair the crack in his heart which would only continue to splinter further during the weeks he didn't get to see you… 

But as fate would have it, you ran into each other two weeks into your time off.

You loved your job, but every once in a while you needed a couple of weeks away from your office to blow off some steam yourself. You'd go clubbing every weekend and eat in fancy restaurants almost every night, enjoying the company of your friends or sometimes even just by yourself. You weren't one to book expensive and far away trips, you always just enjoyed the busy nightlife your own beautiful city had to offer, and this time was no different.

You'd gotten drunk numerous times already with your friends, waking up with a terrible hangover only to repeat it all again the next night. But after a week of doing so, your body demanded a more healthy approach, and so you listened. You still went out every night, but you minded your alcohol consumption and avoided getting drunk, most of the nights at least. 

And just when you had decided to stay sober again one particular night, you bumped into Sihtric while being in the most popular club in town with your friends, and that's exactly when you could've used a drink to calm your nerves.

Due to your job confidentiality, you couldn't tell your friends that Sihtric was your patient. And luckily they were too drunk and out partying on the dancefloor when you bumped into him, in a more quiet corridor after a brief visit to the toilets to check your hair and make-up after a few hours of dancing. You were stunned to see him, and he looked better than ever. He was dressed in dark grey jeans with his signature black boots underneath, and he wore a black blouse which was only half buttoned up. You caught a glimpse of his muscular chest and immediately had to avert your eyes before you'd start drooling, but when you looked up into his eyes and saw the hint of eyeliner, you felt light headed regardless.

'Miss me so much you came to see me?' Sihtric smiled, his hand lingering on your arm after he withheld you from tripping over your own feet when you had collided with him.

'Sure,' you chuckled, not pulling away but nervously adjusting your short black cocktail dress, 'how was I supposed to know you would be here?'

'Well, I own this place, so… you know,' he shrugged with a flirty smile.

'What?' your eyes grew wide, 'I- I swear I didn't know that. I thought you owned that stripclub down the street, not this place?'

'Relax,' he laughed, 'I'm only playing. I do own this place though, and I own that stripclub too, yes. But what brings you here then, just a night out?'

'I'm on my holidays, remember?' you laughed, a little nervously, 'so, yeah, I'm just out with some friends.'

'You friends?' he looked around the now empty hallway, 'where are they?'

'Somewhere on the dancefloor,' you shrugged, 'why?'

'Well,' Sihtric smiled and leaned his shoulder against the dark wall as he towered over you, 'I was hoping that maybe I could buy you that drink now, since we're both here, you know?'

'Sihtric,' you stammered, 'I… I don't know if that's a good idea-'

'I know you're my psychologist,' he sighed and took your hands, 'but you're not working and we're not in your therapy room. So right now I'm just a guy asking a beautiful lady to have a drink, that's all.'

You visibly contemplated his words and his offer. You knew he was right, you weren't working right now. But you also knew that you shouldn't join him for a drink, because you knew you liked him a little too much for your own good, and he was still a patient after all.

'Come on,' he playfully tugged your hands as he still held them, 'what's the worst thing that could happen? That you fall in love with me, hm?' he said with a cocky grin.

'Oh, shut up,' you giggled, then sighed, 'fine, one drink.'

'One drink is all I'm asking for.'

'So, how have you been?'

'Are you asking as my psychologist or as my date?' Sihtric said with a smug face.

He looked at you as you sat next to him, at a more private table where you could talk without being interrupted by people or overpowered by the music. The place was dimly lit, but the club lights were bright enough to still see each other rather clearly. And the way Sihtric looked at you as he leaned in, with one arm on the backrest of the red couch you sat back on, made you instantly blush and all weak inside.

'I'm asking as your date,' you said, feigning confidence.

'So everything I say is off the records then?'

'Everything that is not discussed in therapy is off the records, Sihtric.'

He nodded slowly and took a sip from his drink. He didn't want to lie to you or withhold things, but he also didn't want to scare you away, so he contemplated exactly how honest he could be with you about anything at all.

'I have been alright,' he said after a moment, then hesitated before he said, 'I've been thinking of you, actually.'

'Oh, have you?'

'I have,' Sihtric smiled softly, 'and I'm happy to see you.'

He briefly brushed his fingers against your bare shoulder, and when you didn't flinch or move away, he scooted even closer, leaving barely any space between the two of you. You inhaled his pleasant scent as you tried to relax, leaning slightly into him while his arm remained around your shoulders, although barely touching you. Only every now and then you felt the warmth of his fingers trace across your exposed neck and shoulders, and your breath hitched in your throat each time.

'Well, if we're being honest,' you said as you looked at your sparkling water on the table, 'I'm happy to see you too.'

'I am happy to hear that,' Sihtric said, 'you look nice,' he quickly eyed you up, 'that dress looks good on you.'

'Thank you,' you blushed, 'you look nice too.'

Sihtric smiled at the way he had you flustered, and he downed the rest of his drink while he kept his eyes on you.

'Not been getting in any trouble then?' you chuckled.

'Trouble? Nah,' he clicked his tongue, 'I swear I've been a good boy, darling,' he winked.

'Such a good boy,' you breathed without thinking, completely smitten, and luckily it was inaudible to him.

'What was that, darling?' he leaned in.

'G-good… day,' you cleared your throat and collected yourself again, 'have you had a good day?'

'Oh,' Sihtric smiled, 'yeah, my day's good now,' he moved his arm to rest around your neck, 'now that you're here that is.'

You found yourself leaning closer, comfortably nestled into his side while he kept his arm around your neck as you continued the conversation. You completely forgot about the time and your friends, and only when you checked your phone did you notice that hours had passed already. Your friends had left you multiple texts, asking where you are and saying how they eventually went home without you.

'Everything alright?' Sihtric asked as you typed away.

'Yeah, sorry. I didn't realise how long we were talking, my friends were worried about me so I'm just answering them now.'

'Are they still here?'

'No, they left about an hour ago it seems. We were supposed to share a ride home,' you sighed, 'but it's okay, it's my bad, I'll just grab a cab myself when I leave.'

'Nah, I'll drive you home, don't worry about it.'

'Are you sober enough to drive?'

'Darling,' Sihtric laughed, 'I'm only here tonight because I was kind of working, so I've been drinking the same sparkling water as you when I decided to stay longer after bumping into you.'

'Oh,' you chuckled, 'I didn't pay much attention to that, sorry.'

'Then what did you pay attention to?'

'I don't know,' you shrugged shyly.

You weren't going to reveal how all you did for hours was stare at him in subtle ways. Like whenever he spoke to you, you gazed into his eyes and found yourself lost in them. And whenever he briefly looked around the club, your eyes trailed from his sharp jaw to his neck, watching his Adam's apple bop as he swallowed, and then your eyes would go down to his half exposed chest where they lingered until he looked back at you again. You couldn't tell him how you had looked at his veiny arms and hands while he had rolled up his sleeves, and how you wondered what it would feel like if those arms were wrapped tightly around you, with one hand around your throat while he pleased you with his other. You squeezed your legs together under the table, in desperate need of some good friction that you just couldn't seem to find. But before you got yourself completely worked up, your eyes landed on a man at the bar who you knew all too well, and that surely killed your mood instantly.

'Oh, shit,' you hissed and quickly looked down, attempting to hide your face.

'What?'

'My ex,' you explained.

Sihtric looked up, not even trying to be subtle, and he spotted the man you clearly had to be talking about; Aethelred, kingpin and royal asshole of a neighbouring city.

'No way,' Sihtric couldn't contain his laughter, 'that is an ex of yours?'

'Yeah, well, we've all made mistakes,' you made a face, 'it's been many years, okay?'

'Lady,' he laughed, 'no offense, but you sure have questionable taste in men for a psychologist.'

'Well, what can I say,' you laughed too, 'maybe I like to try and fix them.'

'Is that it?'

'Sure,' you rolled your eyes with a smile.

'Hm,' Sihtric hummed, 'I see. So,' he leaned in again, 'you want to try and fix me too then?'

You looked up at him, finding yourself drawing nearer and nearer to the handsome man who you should stay far away from for several reasons.

'Sihtric…,' you whispered.

'Tell me,' he whispered, his warm breath touched your lips as he spoke, 'would you fix me if you could?'

'Maybe,' you said softly, 'I would.'

And then, without thinking or even trying to hold back, your lips crashed with his into a long and needy yet gentle kiss. Everything around you drowned out when you felt his warm hand cup your jaw as he kissed you. And you couldn't stop your own hands from settling onto his torso, slowly sliding up his blouse until you felt the skin of his hot and bare chest underneath your fingertips. And even after the kiss was broken, neither of you moved away from each other.

'So,' Sihtric whispered, his lips still faintly touching yours while he lightly caressed your cheek with his thumb, 'should I drive you home?' he smiled and kissed you softly again, 'or can I drive you home with me?'

Despite being sober, it still felt as if your world was spinning when Sihtric held your hand as you both left the club through the back exit. He walked you to his fancy car, where he kissed you deeply before he opened the door for you, and you felt breathless as you watched him walk over to the driver's seat.

'Go straight home,' he said and looked at you with a grin, 'or commit some felonies first, darling?'

'Sihtric!' you gasped and playfully slapped his arm, 'don't you start now.'

'Just asking,' he shrugged with a sly smile and kissed your hand after you had slapped him, and he then started the car.

'Geeze,' you chuckled as you entered Sihtric's gated property, 'you could've told me that you had a pool, I would've brought my bikini.'

'It's too cold out tonight, sweetheart,' he smiled as he held your hand and led you with him to his mansion, 'but I got an inside pool we could use.'

'Are you serious?'

'Yeah, if you're up for it.'

You followed Sihtric inside and, despite knowing you shouldn't have gone home with him, you finally surrendered to yourself and gave in. Because you were off work now, so why wouldn't you take your chances with a man everyone lusted after, and indulge in his riches for maybe one night only? If a gorgeous man who was dressed rather slutty offered you to join him at his inside pool, what kind of a fool would one be to refuse that offer? Sure, Sihtric could be dangerous, and you knew being seen with him came with possible risks too, but it still felt right for some reason. Nothing about being in his presence that night had made you feel unsafe, it was in fact the best night so far you've had in years, and you weren't ready to part with it yet.

'Champagne?' Sihtric asked as he held up a bottle from his fridge.

'Why not?' you shrugged, amused as you took in his ridiculously fancy kitchen.

'That's my girl,' he smiled and grabbed two glasses.

He then placed his hand on the small of your back as he walked you through his massive home, and you already pictured yourself living there. You rolled your eyes at your own thoughts, because what were you even thinking? Living with this guy? A gangster? You knew it was wrong, but you could practically see yourself walk down the aisle with him at this point. You blamed it on the kiss you had shared, in the club and outside of his car, because that's when you decided to ignore the walking red flag that he is. Or at least, you had convinced yourself that he wasn't a red flag romantically though.

'Don't be shy now,' Sihtric said as you both stood next to the pool, and he pulled you closer, 'help me?' he asked, flashing you his best puppy dog eyes, which worked wonders on you, and he brought your hands up to unbutton his blouse.

'Not much left to unbutton,' you taunted as you slowly opened his blouse further.

'Didn't hear you complain about it before,' he said and circled one arm loosely around your waist.

'Who said I'm complaining now?'

You gave him a cheeky smile while a blush coloured your cheeks, and your heart was beating in your throat once you witnessed the sight of his bare torso. He was muscular beyond words, in perfect shape and proportion to say the least. He threw his blouse on one of the pool chairs behind him while he kept his arm circled around your waist, and he pulled you closer again as he turned back to you.

'Help me?' you asked in return, and you turned around so he could unzip your dress.

'Not much to take off,' Sihtric teased back, brushing his lips over your neck as he slowly pulled down the zipper.

'Didn't hear you complain before either.'

Sihtric chuckled softly in your ear, then slid his fingers under the thin shoulder straps of your dress, and slowly lowered them as he peppered your neck with soft open-mouthed kisses. You closed your eyes and smiled, leaning your head back against his chest while your dress slid down your body and pooled around your feet. You were left in your matching lingerie set, one you weren't expecting anyone to see any time soon, but you were more than happy that it was Sihtric who was the one who laid eyes on you like that.

You turned to face Sihtric and leaned into him, kissing his lips lightly while you slowly unbuttoned his jeans. And once he was left in only his form fitting boxers, and had taken off the knife he always kept strapped around his ankle, he picked you up in his arms and carried you into the warm pool while he continued to kiss you. Your lips only left each other's when he pulled away to open the bottle of champagne, pouring you both a glass and consuming it in between kisses, which gradually became needier and deeper as time passed and the bottle emptied further. You weren't drunk though, neither was Sihtric, and yet you were both completely relaxed and calm as if you were someplace out of this world while you embraced and kissed and teased as the warm water surrounded you, and it was blissful. 

But still, you couldn't entirely ignore who you were with once Sihtric pulled you in his lap as he laid back on his pool chair. He draped a soft towel around your shoulders, and then pulled you in for another long, deep and gentle kiss. Your mind went completely quiet every time you felt his facial hair brush against your face, and with each slow stroke of his tongue against yours did you drift further. You raked your hands through his hair as you straddled him, kissing him deeply and longing for more while his hands roamed your body, but you were interrupted when suddenly his phone rang.

'I'm sorry,' he said softly as he took his phone, 'I have to take this. But… don't stop, okay?'

'Okay,' you smiled and pecked his lips, then went to kiss his jaw and neck as he answered the call.

You continued to kiss your way down while he mindlessly slid his hand up your neck and tangled his fingers in your hair, as you kissed down to his shoulders and his chest. Then down to his abs, only to trail your lips back up his muscular body again while you occasionally heard his breath hitch softly in his throat, and you listened to him speak while you kissed his broad shoulders again.

'Have you?' Sihtric asked the caller, 'what's the motive?' a short pause, 'and you are sure he's responsible? I mean, you found the masks and the rope, all that?' he paused again as his caller responded. 'Text me the address, and I'll take care of it. I'll owe you,' he said, and then hung up.

He tossed his phone on the chair next to him and immediately brought his attention back to you, pulling your lips to his again for another sweet kiss.

'Sorry about that, baby,' Sihtric whispered, and despite his efforts, he seemed a little distraught all of the sudden.

'Everything alright?' you asked, the vague phone call reminding you once again who you were dealing with.

'Nothing you should ever worry about,' he smiled and leaned in to kiss you again, but you stopped him.

'Sihtric,' you whispered, 'we… maybe we shouldn't, you know?'

'Why not?' he asked, his voice soft and smooth but with a hint of surprise, 'please don't give me that psychologist crap again. We both know you are your own boss, you have to answer to no one, so me being your patient shouldn't be a problem.'

'Maybe,' you smiled faintly, 'but it's not just that. We both know you're not good for me.'

'And that's where you are wrong, baby,' he said as he looked up at you, his eyes somewhat vulnerable, 'because I promise I'll be really good for you. I'm not a bad guy, you know? Not the way everyone thinks I am at least.'

'I know, but… I can't ignore a call like that. Masks? Rope? You'll take care of it? Take care of what, Sihtric? I noticed the way you tensed up, is this part of what caused you to have those panic attacks?'

'Fuck,' he mumbled to himself and pinched the bridge of his nose, 'alright, look, I really like you, okay? And I want no secrets between us. So, if you really want to know why I started going to therapy, then I'll tell you right now. But it's off the record, yeah?'

You agreed that nothing he would tell you in that moment would ever be used against him by you, as you had no right to do so. And so he finally told you all about that night he and the others got dragged out of the stripclub. It wasn't easy for him to talk about it, but feeling you close and holding you in his arms while he remembered everything again was enough to keep him from slipping into a full panic attack. 

'They tied us up and left us for death,' Sihtric said, rather calmly, 'but we managed to get away. And ever since I've been trying to find who was responsible. Because I can't rest knowing that someone's out there trying to kill me. Because people like me, when we want someone dead, we don't just stop after one failed attempt. So I know they're coming back for us, and I wanted to be ahead of them.'

You listened carefully to every word he spoke, and you fought your tears as you realised he wasn't even supposed to be breathing anymore. You realised you were never supposed to meet each other, and yet you had. And you believed that meant something, that something bigger and greater than the two of you had been the cause of him surviving the assault and ending up in your therapy room. And all of that led up to walking into him on your time off.

'You know who did it?' you asked.

'I do now,' Sihtric nodded, 'yes. Last summer there was an explosion in a pub after it was closed early in the morning.'

'I remember that,' you said with a soft gasp, 'it belonged to some guy, what's his name, Cnut?'

'You're right, that's his name. We did a deal with him and he didn't hold up his end of the deal, owing us a lot of money and causing a shit ton of trouble. So we decided to send a message.'

'By blowing up his pub?' your eyes grew wide, 'wait, you blew up that pub?'

'I never said I did, darling,' a soft smile tugged at his lips, 'I just said we sent him a message. However, things didn't go as planned, and we later learned that Cnut's two sons were still at the pub that morning, and they got injured. That was never supposed to happen, but shit happens. And, well, turns out Cnut wanted to send a message back to us after that.'

'By killing you?' you scoffed.

Sihtric shrugged but didn't respond otherwise.

'And what? Now you're going to kill him?'

'I didn't say that.'

'Sihtric, I'm not stupid.'

'Listen,' he leaned in and cupped your face, 'I told you about what's going on, and everything I told you is all you'll ever need to know, okay? You should never worry about what I do and the things I don't tell you, because it's better if you don't know about some things.'

You sighed softly, and it was all you could do. You knew Sihtric came with a whole lot of baggage and risks, and yet you had still decided to go home with him. 

'Trust me?' Sihtric whispered as he looked into your eyes.

'I shouldn't,' you said, 'should I?'

'I will never hurt you,' he said and nuzzled your nose softly, 'I would never put you at risk. I just want to love you, but only if you trust me enough to do so.'

'I'm just afraid that if I trust you there's no going back.'

'Then don't go back, baby. You don't have to go back,' he kissed your hands, 'just stay here with me.'

You knew you had already crossed a line there was no coming back from, and if you were honest with yourself, you didn't even want to go back even if you could. So instead of grabbing your belongings and leaving, you kissed him and allowed him to carefully pick you up and lay you down on the chair. He lowered himself down on top of you, positioning his strong body between your thighs while he enveloped you with his arms, kissing you gently as he held you as close as was physically possible without removing your underwear, for now.

You allowed yourself to let him quiet your mind again, drowning in his kiss and savouring the taste and touch of his lips and tongue while you made out passionately. Sihtric then kissed down your neck at a slow pace, lowering one bra strap to kiss your shoulder, but never fully exposing you. Because contrary to popular belief, and despite his violent outbursts and his rugged and muscular look which was rather deceiving; Sihtric wasn't about being rough with a lady of interest. Instead he was a refined and gentle man, as well as a very tender and passionate lover, which you were about to find out.

He slowly kissed down your body, eager but never in a hurry to get to his favourite part though, because it wasn't only about him. He wanted you to enjoy it as much as he knew he would. So he calmly dragged his lips further down, to your hips, and he politely removed your panties before he kissed up the inside of your thighs while he slowly caressed your legs with his warm hands.

'You good with this?' he murmured as he came back up to steal another kiss.

'Mhm,' you hummed, with your eyes heavy lidded and your cheeks all warm, 'you can do anything you want.'

You surprised yourself with those words, but you meant each and every one of them. Because never before did you feel so desired by a man and comfortable at the same time, and you just wanted to surrender entirely to him.

'But,' you added, 'nothing… too rough, okay? I haven't been with someone in a while and-'

'Shh,' Sihtric hushed you, 'I got you, nothing rough. No problem, darling,' he teasingly flicked his tongue against your parted lips, 'just relax for me, yeah?' he said with a sly smile before he kissed you again.

He then kissed his way down your body again, painstakingly slow, making sure to leave not much of your skin untouched by his lips and tongue as he made his way back between your thighs. And there he teased you for a moment, brushing his lips lightly against your sweet spot and allowing you to feel his facial hair tickle you in the most pleasant ways, leaving you almost breathless with anticipation.

He then hooked his arms around your thighs, loosely and relaxed instead of holding you in a firm grip, and he then finally kissed your folds and gently parted them with his tongue as he gradually delved in further. Sihtric made you a gasping and moaning mess in a matter of seconds, simply driving you crazy with the slow and long strokes of his tongue and the way he kissed and sucked you so carefully and sweetly. He got you close to the edge so many times in the span of a few long minutes, but he wasn't ready for it to be done yet, because he himself enjoyed the act of going down on you more than you'd ever know. So each time he felt you were close and became sensitive, he'd pull away, only take your hand in his while he went to kiss and suck the inside of your thighs, leaving love bites in his wake before returning back to pleasuring you in ways only he ever could. And you knew right then that you would never want any other man in your life anymore, it was only Sihtric for you.

He continued to please and tease you for what felt like at least half an hour. Your mind had gone entirely blank, the quietness was so perfect, and all you could do was mumble under your breath whenever you weren't moaning for him. And he made you cum twice that way, with your legs trembling on his back and one hand tangled in his curls, while your other held his hand tightly through your climax.

'Are you good, my darling?' Sihtric whispered after pushing himself back up, gently holding your face.

'Yeah,' you breathed with a dazed smile, 'more than good,' you chuckled and kissed his lips. 'But you,' you then whispered and trailed your hands down his body, 'you haven't been pleased yet.'

'You don't understand how much it pleases me to please you,' he smiled, 'don't worry about me, okay?' he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, 'All I need to know is if you've had enough for today, or if you got a little more in you.'

'Give me a moment,' you said, 'I just need a moment to recover.'

'No rush,' Sihtric said and kissed your neck and shoulders again, 'take all the time you need, I'm not going anywhere. Tell me what you want, baby?'

'You, Sihtric. I want you.'

'You'll have me,' he cooed, 'don't you worry about that, love.'

He kissed you sweetly yet sloppily until you had recovered from your previous highs. And after he had taken off his own underwear, he gently used his fingers to stretch and prepare you for what would be the longest, slowest, deepest and most passionate fuck you ever had in your life. 

He fucked you so unhurried, it drove you mad, your nails often clawing at his back while you begged him to give you more, but not once would he falter or change his pace. He knew what he was doing, because he had been wanting to for so long, so he made the most impassioned love to you for as long as you could last. His slow and deep strokes pushed you close to your edge ever so often, but never entirely over it until he decided to do so. No matter how you begged him for it, he was the one in charge of your release.

Sihtric kissed you with such care and so much love while he pleasured you in all the right ways, you never knew it was possible to fall for someone just like that, but you knew you had. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you held him tightly, and you hooked your legs around his waist. He pressed his body firmer onto yours as he continued to fuck you ever so slowly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he had his arms wrapped around you as well.

'That's it,' he breathed, feeling you tighten around his length with each stroke, 'gods, you're perfect. You feel so good, taking me so fucking well, darling.'

'Please,' you begged, tears pricked in your eyes as you couldn't hold on much longer, 'please, just let me-'

'Shh, I will,' Sihtric whispered and smiled, then kissed your lips as he picked up his pace, but only slightly, 'you can let go now,' he moaned softly against your lips, 'I want you to cum for me, sweetheart.'

And so you finally did, letting out an almost pathetic cry of relief when you finally finished for a third time that night, and you felt him cum deep inside you only seconds later. You held onto each other tightly for a little while, relishing in each other's touch, scent and taste, kissing each other whenever you weren't roaming your warm and glistening bodies by hand as you came down from your highs.

'Hey,' Sihtric frowned as he saw you slip back into your dress, 'where are you going?'

He watched you from his bed, shirtless and dressed in only some grey sweatpants after he had taken a shower in his ensuite bathroom, and there had waited for you to freshen yourself up too.

'Eh, home?' you said, a little confused.

'Oh,' he sat up, visibly disappointed, 'are you… I mean, are you sure? I'll drive you home if you want to but, you know,' he chuckled, 'I make really good breakfast.'

You smiled as you looked at him. You knew he wanted to ask you to stay the night, but for some reason he seemed too shy to ask.

'Sihtric,' you said, 'if there's something you want to say then-'

'Please,' he interrupted and got up from the bed, 'stay? I'd… I want you to stay, please. I mean, I- I like having you around. You make me feel calm, I guess. And, you know, I'm into you and all that,' he mumbled.

'Fine,' you chuckled and walked up to him, pushing yourself up your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, 'I'll stay, if you make me that breakfast. And also,' you said, 'if we continue this, seeing each other I mean, then I can't be your psychologist anymore. It would be too much of a mess.'

'Baby,' Sihtric smiled and kissed you, 'I won't need a psychologist once I take care of my problem, which will be soon. I just need you by my side, that's all. And I promise,' he traced your lips with his thumb, 'you can fix me.'

@mrsarnasdelicious @neonhairspray @sihtricsafin @errruvande @penumbrie @lexeirikrleif @diiickbrainn @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @bubblyabs @dixie-elocin @alexagirlie @stupiddarkkside @urmomsgirlfriend1 @gemini-mama @foxyanon @man-i-be-that-pretty-motherfuckr @thenameswinter99 @m-a-s-h-k-a @superblyzanynight @hernakedmuse @ewanmitchellfanatic @lady-targaryens-world @cosmosnkaz @stronger-than-steel @cheesesandwichsanto

[ranunculussy]

enigma | part 06.

saturday

ꕥ part 01. | part 02. | part 03. | part 04. | part 05. ꕥ pair: Spencer Reid × BAU!fem!reader ꕥ warnings/tags: mentions of IKEA, awkwardness, somewhat oblivious Reid and reader, age gap, slow-burn, mutual pining, rivals to lovers, english isn't my first language so bear with me pls, idk about other warnings ꕥ word count: ~2.5k ꕥ summary: Spencer can't quite figure you, his rival out and this annoys him more than it should ꕥ a/n: hi guys! thank you so much for reading my work. i just wanted to apologise for the shorter chapter and that it took longer to update than usual. i was planning to post this originally around valentine's day but university started and things got a tiny bit busy. [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title and username]

Pouring salt and lemon juice on an open wound would’ve felt like a walk in the park compared to asking for any kind of help or favour. You always handled everything independently and on your own way. You were ready to drop everything on the spot and lend a hand to those who asked but always made sure to deal with your problems by yourself. Among other things, this aspect of yours was a mixture of stubbornness and pride.

So, imagine how embarrassed you felt on that sunny Saturday morning, with your phone pressed to your ears as you anxiously waited for your call to be answered. It’s so dumb, they just got back from the case yesterday. I should hang…

“Hey pretty girl, what’s up?” Derek’s usual playful tone cut through your thoughts, stopping you from pressing the little red icon. You were relieved that you weren’t the one to wake him or at least judging by the lack of raspiness in his tone, he was already up.

“Are you perhaps… free today?” you asked as you quickly paced back and forth in your unusually empty bedroom. One of your cats, who was still very much a kitten, energetically chased after your feet, causing you to come across even less collected, since you had to look out for the little furball too if you didn’t want to accidentally step on him.

“For a woman like you, I’m always free.” Hummed the man at the other end of the line, immediately easing your nerves a bit. You rolled your eyes and let a playful smile spread across your face, which was wiped off just as quickly.

“Ah, for fuck’s sake Nick...!” before you could’ve said anything else, like probably an explanation for why you were calling your colleague, a low scream escaped your lips. “Sorry, my cat is just devil’s incarnate, and he decided it’d be fun to claw his way up on my bare legs.”

“For a moment I got scared that it wasn’t really me you were looking for.”

“Impossible, you know you’re always on my mind, handsome.”

You learned quite early on that Derek’s flirty demeanour was part of his personality and it was never serious when it came to the team. Even in amongst you, he knew that not everyone was open to suggestive comments or playful dirty talk. He made sure to never make anyone feel uncomfortable. Luckily, you were completely okay with this and even became a ‘partner in crime’.

“Okay, out with it. Why did you call?”

“Ah, I need a favour. I know you guys just came home yesterday and it’s totally okay if you say no…”

“Babygirl, I don’t even know what to say no to.”

“Yeah right, sorry. I need to buy a new bed because my last one was older than me and a few weeks ago it decided to end its life, which I can understand. So, I’ve been sleeping on the sofa. I mean, I wouldn’t exactly call it sleeping. And I know that I am even funnier when I’m sleep deprived but now that I’ll soon be back in action, it’d be nice to be well rested, you know. And yes, I could just walk into an IKEA, choose a bed and ask for a delivery, but…” You were definitely rambling and overexplaining yourself, as you did whenever you got flustered or felt awkward. Just like when you gave Reid a gift, you still haven’t recovered from that. The others quickly got used to this, given that they already had a yapper in their company. However, it didn’t mean you weren’t self-conscious if you noticed what you were doing.

“Let me stop you right there. You need help with taking home and putting together a bed, right?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll be there in an hour, but I’m bringing help. These muscles can do a hella lot of things but getting a whole bed to the 7th floor is different.”

“Of course. Thank you, Derek.”

After the call ended, you stood in one place in the middle of your room, trying to calm yourself down, contemplating your life. Asking for a favour shouldn’t make you feel like you’re being hunted for sport. But it did, especially since it included one of your co-workers.

Originally, you planned on getting this done with your brothers, but both were out of the country for two more weeks. You’ve read so many past case files where it later turned out that the UnSubs were previously in one of the BAU member’s homes as maintenance workers or something similar that it made you a tiny bit paranoid. This is one of the reasons why you preferred to fix everything you could by yourself. It was to avoid letting unknown people into your flat. You weren’t that worried about Morgan’s unfamiliar friend though, given that you completely trusted the profiler.

Well, colour you surprised when an hour later as you hopped into the backseat of the black Range Rover Autobiography, you were met with passenger princess Spencer Reid.

“Oh… Hi.” your voice got awkwardly high-pitched. You avoided looking at him both directly and through the rear-view mirror. You weren’t quite prepared for this scenario. It was bad enough that the anxiety caused by being afraid of becoming a nuisance for Derek filled your entire body, now Dr Asshole was there too. And you appreciated the help, you really did. But now this also meant that the man with whom you had an indefinable relationship will enter your home. The home, which was so obviously, undeniably you. It was almost like a piece of your bare soul on display both in a good and bad way.

“Hi.”

“So, IKEA?” clarified Derek before things could’ve gotten even more uncomfortable.

“Yes. I already chose which one I’d like so I won’t be taking up much of your time, promise,” you said and as proof, you held up your phone, with the website open and the specific furniture on the screen.

“Oh, Tonstad was mentioned in a travel brochure I’ve read a few years ago when I was looking for places to visit.” After Spencer took a glance at your phone, his eyes almost literally lit up. He enthusiastically explained what the name of the chosen bedframe and mattress meant. His hands were just as expressive as his mouth. It was sweet, how he probably wasn’t aware the constant movement of his fingers. “It’s a little Norwegian village and was the administrative centre of the old municipality of Tonstad from 1905 until its dissolution in 1960. In 1960, it became the part of Sirdal, and it continued to be the administrative centre there.”

Weirdly, his slightly rambling, lengthy explanation somewhat put you at ease. It was one of those rare moments when his facts weren’t undermining your professional ideas and theories. These facts were simply just facts, it was interesting listening to them, and he was able to keep your attention so much so, that you didn’t even notice how curiously you stared at him.

However, he did. Since you had no reason to use contact lenses on an early Saturday when you weren’t working, those damned glasses were on you again. The sight basically magnetized his gaze to your face through the rear-view mirror, automatically triggering the memory of his weird dream about you from a few weeks before.

For a quick, passing moment he became annoyed. The genius didn’t quite understand why a simple object, invented around the 13th century—with its precursors dated back to the Eastern Han Dynasty in China—had such an effect on him. Spectacles have been around for a few hundred years now, it was quite literally a basic, everyday necessity for almost half the population. At times even he himself had to wear it. So then, why in the hells did you have this weird, unexplainable effect on him? It wasn’t fair, how you were able to cause a ruckus in his extraordinary brain without even trying.

Much to his dismay, he was very well aware how you looked at him from behind. The way the Sun shined on your irises captivated him. All your attention was his. And he had to come to the unfortunate conclusion that he very much liked this.

×××

“Is it okay if I let out my cats now?” you asked the men in your bedroom that got cluttered and chaotic rather quickly. They were in the midst of putting your bed together, however, it didn’t go as smoothly as they planned. Derek wanted to use a simple thing, called common sense, and build the bedframe how it seemed right while Reid insisted on strictly following the manual which he already read and memorised word for word. On top of that, they didn’t let you help them, not even a tiny bit. The one thing that both agreed on was that you’re not going to do anything physically exhausting while you still have a healing wound on your side.

“You have cats?” asked the doctor and he even turned his precious attention from the wooden parts to you.

“No Reid, I just prefer to eat and drink from a bowl on the ground.” the sarcastic reaction came out before you could even register it and, in a way, you almost immediately felt guilty about it. He was there to help you. There was no need for hostility. But you were very much on edge, more than usually, since this was the first time they were in your home. You were aware of the fact that just by looking at the environment you created as a home, he was able to profile the shit out of you, and you didn’t like this at all.

You had various kinds of potted plants everywhere��all safe for your pets—, even on top of stacked books that were scattered around the living room. Your dish rack was filled with colourful mugs, plates and bowls, most of them had different patterns and shapes. You bought the majority of those from artisans who set up stands at different fairs. All of them were unique but the colour scheme matched nicely, making your kitchenware organised and fun at the same time. Some were made to look like a blooming flower, some had animal or geek features on them. Penelope was over the moon when she first saw it, so much so that it wouldn’t have surprised you if she sneaked a few out of your place at the end of the occasional get-togethers.

The bookshelf at the wall between your kitchen and living room immediately caught Reid’s attention, but assembling your furniture was the main priority, so he forced himself not to pay much attention to it. Secretly though, he hoped he could take a closer look at what you read and by what system you organised your books, just so he could possibly get to know you more without having to engage in your usual bickering.

Before the doctor could’ve answered your last sentence, you took a swift turn and left your bedroom. A few minutes later the sound of long, drawn-out meows filled the small flat.

“Yeaaah, I know, I know. I’m sorry.” you answered to your pets in a high-pitched tone. The first one to run out of the bathroom was an adult, slightly chubby black cat with deep, amber eyes. You found her and her brother—the sweetest little calico, who was still chilling in the cold sink, even though you opened the door for him to leave—on a hot summer’s night, during a storm that was one of the worsts you’ve ever seen or experienced a little more than two years ago. The kitten named Nick, is an entirely different story. You found him in a dumpster, near your apartment, squaring it up with a raccoon. He hasn’t calmed down ever since. “But I locked you up for your own sakes. And it was only for half an hour.” To this, another long meow was your answer, to which you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They were dramatic, for sure.

“Should I consider my win on the last case as a result of you, not having a bed?” Reid’s voice almost made you jump; it was so sudden. He was leaning to the doorframe, curious eyes diligently taking in every single tiny detail of you and your surroundings. You were in the process of taking the sweetest little prince out of the sink. The long-haired calico was rather scaredy and hated unfamiliar people but was a total lovebug for those whom he knew. Unfortunately, the tall profiler wasn’t amongst these persons, so the cat’s instincts took over and, in a blink, he clawed his way out of your warm embrace to hide behind the washing machine.

“Shit! Daisy…” you yelped as you became more and more aware of the tingling, hot pain that spread across your upper and lower arms.

“Ah, I… Khm. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I knew he is afraid of strangers, I should’ve left him alone, but I felt guilty about locking them up for the time you got the bed to my room.” you explained the situation while you started to clean the shallow injuries with some warm water. There were only a few scratches, luckily, but they burned like hell. “The other two will be okay, though. Jordan usually sits on top of the cat tree and judges everyone while Nick brings doom and destruction to all things in existence.”

It didn’t require much brain power to put two and two together, Spencer almost immediately recognised the connection between the names of your cats, however, he didn’t mention a thing. He wasn’t sure how you’d react, and he didn’t want to start a fight. Up until now you’ve only met each other outside of work when the team went out for drinks and even then, you tended to avoid interacting with him. So, instead he silently reached for the soft, salmon-coloured towel and handed it to you, his watchful gaze never leaving your figure.

thank you again for reading my work, hope you're having an awesome day! i hope it isn't a problem that this fic is getting longer, i'm just taking slow burn seriously (only thing i can do lmao) taglist: @halfbloodwriter @starrystormwritings @kspencer34 @maisyyyyyy @theseerbetweenus @throwaway-things divider from @cafekitsune gif from @reidgif

[juiice]

The Locked Tomb Fic Recs (8)

Part 1+ Links

Lots of people dont have time to read a lot of long fiction. so i'm going to make a list of my fave long fics, so you can pick out one to read! (hint: its most of the tag lol)(if your long fic isn’t on here i probably read it so long ago i forgot what happened so i can’t put it on this list until i read it again and that will take forever)

The criteria for this one is any hits any time. The Theme is..

… Double Novel Length! (over 100,000 Words)

Four very different roommate stories!

And They Were (the Worst) Roommates! by anotherpassingfancy Rated: E (yes sex) Finished

It’s her second year at Canaan University, and Gideon is finally coming into her own. She has a full athletic scholarship, best friends Pal and Cam, and a found family with the Pents and Terrible Teens. She shares a locker room with her hot teammate Corona, who even knows her name. 

Gideon is happy.

And then she meets her new roommate, Harrowhark Nonagesimus.

I actually need to reread this one because i dont remember what happens BUT i do remember it was awesome. Read if you want fun college AU (i sure am after finishing this list!)

semi-charmed kinda life By: strangedelight rating: E (sex as plot points) WIP

Gideon asked questions. Harrow surprised her with answers. They reached an agreement; they decided to be smart, to be patient. Gideon made a promise, Harrow gave her one in return. Wait and see.

semi charmed kinda life is like when you finally find a good anime thats NOT about teens.(is that just me? Ok) i love the deep characterization in this one, and the rich setting of the 1990s that’s familiar but not too familiar. and it has my favorite thing in it: cam :) more serious than ATW(TW)R, and not completed, but it's Worth It to get into. And it has art! X/X/X/X/X/X @griddlebait is the author on tumblr idk if hes active but!! awesome fic we love it! Read if you want realistic AUs feat team 69 and gay thoughts.

We Have Always Lived in the Apartment By: labyrinthineRetribution rating: T (gore heavy, id say M) WIP

     It is Harrowhark Nonagesimus' birthday, and it only gets worse from there.

WHALITA is crazy. LR always writes the craziest gideon/harrow ever, i think even more dysfunctional than canon, and it’s great to see them struggle with basic things, like… having a roommate. And not so basic things, like living out a horror movie. This one has some art too X @thatneoncrisis is the authors tumblr. Read if you want to be fucked up, and then abandoned because its not finished yet.

Let's Make The Most of this Beautiful Day (Since We're Together We Might As Well)  By:  br0ken_hands, jpnadia Rated: E (sex as major plot points) Finished

    “Harrow?” Gideon does a double-take and grips on to the nearest solid object for support. The keys on the entryway table give a forlorn jingle at the impact. “Harrowhark Nonagesimus?”

    The wraith stops dead partway down the stairs with her hand on the bannister. “Griddle?” (“Griddle?” asks Cam, incredulously, which is about how Gideon feels about that nickname, too.)

    Palamedes gives them a very narrow look. “Harrow, my undergraduate study partner, Camilla Hect. And you’re Gideon Nav, I presume? I’ve heard about you; it’s a pleasure to meet. I take it you already know my roommate, Harrowhark Nonagesimus?”

    Three best friends unsuitable roommate pairs buy adjoining properties and rip down the fences and have a shared garden. There is a goat.

    This fic does not contain spoilers for Harrow the Ninth.

LMTMOTBD (SWTWMAW) is one hell of an acronym for one hell of a story. Thats probably why it's called 4gfs. these are the types of stories i want to print out and put on my shelf. Fun and sexy, not as serious as SCKL or WHALITA. I love everyones problems in this one. does that make sense? Read if you want smut and found family.

Four Empire Griddleharks

 Cataclysmic Variable Star by: Elldritch Rating: M Finished

A continuation of the Harrow Nova AU from chapter 40 of Harrow the Ninth

     CVS is like its own book. Pretty sure i’ve put this on lists before. I love reverend daughter gideon, and how the canon beats are twisted to fit the altered characters. Harrow nova Is… i'm kissing her and she has killed me. Read if you want more canon adjacent. 

Attack on Ninth by: cmdrskip Rated:E (yes sex) Finished

Failing numerous times to escape the Ninth, Gideon gave up the ghost and settled into her forced servitude. The Emperor made no request for the Houses to attempt the Lyctor Trials. Gideon’s miserable life went on in the Ninth House, plateauing into a tedious rinse and repeat cycle of waiting for the seemingly unattainable sweet release of death. The monotony is broken when someone makes it their mission to murder the Ninth House scion. Somehow this becomes Gideon’s problem.

As if it was a universal rule, Gideon’s pitiful life gets worse in the drill shaft. (Get it? The Ninth is a pit and it sucks- whatever).

AU- Gideon becomes the Ninth's cav and tries to keep Harrow alive, without it killing her first.

This one was pretty good. I love the middle part of gtn when our girls are reluctantly working together. They are a little older in this one than canon, and managed to interact with people, and this has changed them just a bit. Read if you want that sweet enemies to lovers slow burn, and interesting plot to go along with it.

Resurrection By: N1ghtWr1ter Rated: E Finished

The Ninth House needs an heir. A little bit of flesh magic later, and its cavalier primary is set up to provide.

And then the Reverend Daughter manages to *ruin sex.*

 This one is 100,000 words of delicious porn. Read if you want 100,000 words of griddlehark fucking nastey on every surface of the ninth. It also has a 20,000 word unfinished prequel in the same universe, reading not required. 

The Flip Side By: No1fan15 Rated: M Finished

Gideon Nav is alive, resurrected by the King Undying, and she's having a hell of a time.

From a now embarrassingly protective Harrow, to her newly gained powers, to a Ninth House repopulated, shit is going down. With her sword, her wits, and her deeply buried feelings, she fights to keep this new life long enough to ensure her adept is safe. But Harrow's talking to herself, the Emperor is lying to them, and Gideon keeps fumbling every chance at a real conversation with the girl she died for.

Worst of all, the River is calling her back, and she doesn't know how long she can stay afloat.

This one is like an alternate HTN if gideon was immediately resurrected. Kinda similar to attack on ninth,in setting, but less sex. Read if you hated when gideon died and pretended like she was magically resurrected in your head. 

Three Earth AUs.

Yellow Card By: Moonblastbitch Rated: E WIP

Harrowhark had 3 things she would always be grateful for: her two cousins, and her son.

Everything else was…fine. Work? Fine. Dealing with the gossipy PTA moms? Her marriage? Not great, but it was fine.

But her son’s big, ginger soccer coach? That butch is FINE.

  What’s discretion compared to new discoveries? What’s loyalty and faithfulness when you’ve just found exactly where you belong?

Yellow card is immaculate. Read if you want to meet Kevin, and love him. Read if you want some steamy sex.

Ask A Ginger By: Rohad Rating: E  Finished

Of all her gigs, writing advice for a column in a skin magazine is probably Gideon's favorite, though walking Noodle for Cam and Pal is a close second. Even when it brings her within glaring distance of their across-the-hall neighbors. The Nonagesimus sisters. The younger, a little weird but fine. The elder? A pit viper.

At least on the surface.

AAG is so funny and gives that good good gideon POV that i love. Read if you love Gideon.

I Will Not Die For You By:ghost_maiden_of_delphi Rating: M Finished

Gideon Nav is a mid-level enforcer for the Nonagesimus Crime Family, and all she wants is out. Luckily, she has a ticket: if she can ferry the don's daughter, Harrowhark, across the country to a meeting of The Nine Families.

There's only three problems: they can't fly, they can't use any of the Family's resources, and Harrowhark is the last person Gideon wants to spend two weeks trapped in a car with. But now it's up to her, alone, to keep Harrow safe and keep herself from losing it on the long, lonesome road ahead.

Read if you love… i'm running out of taglines. It's mafia, guys. Read it. 

+ One Non Griddlehark Adventure

Everything Goes On By: cato_universe Rated: E Finished

In a different time and place, Mercymorn remembers.

or

2,000 years later the Lyctors are born again, to finally get it right.

This one is wild. This one’s not about our main cast at all and instead follows mercy, in another life. I really like it, it’s refreshing to follow her for so long. Read if you want something thats not griddlehark. Gideon is just barely in this one.

OK, if youve made it this far, congratulations! and goodbye.