#that being said in response to ‘everything you went through; and still youre somehow the happiest person in this group’ god.

[sturnlsstuff]

FAMILIAR STRANGER | chapter six

what's gonna happen when you find out about your enemy's biggest secret?

ghostface!chris x enemy!reader

chapter five

— warnings; smut with plot, dom!chris, sub!reader, fingering, unprotected p in v, rough, creampie, dirty talk, pet names, bratty reader, cursing, - english isn't my first language.

~~~

you have gone through many stressful situations in your life. most of the time you didn't care about anything, always chilling and thinking logically, not emotionally. however, there were moments when even you started losing your shit and they were always more intense than they should have been. one of them, for example, was taking your driving test, which kept you up at night. or your 18th birthday that stressed you out so much that you had to drink a bottle of wine alone before the party to get rid of the anxiety. or choosing what college you wanna go to, and whether you'll even get there or not. lots of stressful days in your life, lots of situations.

but your heart had never beat as fast as it did in this moment.

your thumb hovering over the 'send' button while you consider all the pros and cons of what you're doing. biting your lower lip nervously, feeling the taste of blood in your mouth, but even this doesn't stop you. you had to make a decision whether to text chris or not, and that wasn't supposed to be so stressful, but it was.

after he left you alone in his room at the party, you didn't see him at all. after fixing your makeup, you went back downstairs and found emma, telling her you were going home, needing to process whatever happened in chris's room and how it made you feel. she knew you were with someone, anyone would notice by the state you were in, even if you tried to make yourself look presentable for twenty minutes in front of the mirror in chris's room. somehow you managed to get rid of emma and her questions for now, ignoring her for two days. in fact ignoring everyone, needing some time alone, but it didn't feel like you were by yourself at all, with the way chris was in your mind every second of the day.

finally, before you could change your mind, you sent the message and threw your phone to the other end of the couch, hugging your legs to your chest and clutching your heated cheeks as if that would somehow help you. tense silence remains in the living room for the next two minutes, as you start to regret texting him.

another five minutes and you finally reach for your phone, ready to delete the message when you see three dots showing that he is replying. with w muffled scream, your phone flies across the room as you throw it again, a notification indicating a new message heard. for a second you just sit still, wheels turning in your head, but then you almost jump from your place, your legs on the couch, the rest of your body hanging off it as you steady yourself with one hand on the floor, the other picking up your phone and reading the message. you could feel the blood rushing to your head.

"bitch," you mutter to yourself, looking at the screen in pure disbelief. there's no way you were stressing for the past hour to send that fucking simple message, overthinking all night if you should even text him and how to do it to not sound too desperate, even wondering if three question marks is too much and maybe you should put one, and he just said he's busy.

unfortunately for him, you weren't a person who gave up easily, and if you finally decided to talk to him, you will do everything to make it happen. so you reply back, not having to wait for his response too long.

you roll your eyes, upset that you even tried to start any conversation with him, that you wasted the entire day yesterday and today thinking about him when he was clearly busy and definitely not overthinking anything like you did. you're not only mad at him, but also at yourself for being so stupid. after all it was chris, there's nothing to talk about here. he had his way with you and that's it, nothing changes.

not that you wanted it to change anyway.

leaving him on seen, you decide to take care of yourself a little bit, to relaxe since this stress made you feel and look terrible, bags under your eyes after two sleepless nights. so the next hour you spend in your bathtub, cool music filling your ears as you read a book, careful not to make it wet.

then you hear a noise coming from your room, at first thinking it's some hallucination from the lack of sleep, so you stop the music and listen, immediately hearing another muffled bang that makes you jump out of the tub, almost soaking your book. cursing under your breath, you wrap a towel around your waist, looking around to find anything which could be useful in defense. all you find is a glass flowerpot, so you take it, poking your head out from behind the bathroom door.

silence.

you carefully step out of the bathroom, water dripping onto the floor from your body as you walk slowly barefoot towards your room where the door was slightly open. it seemed stupid to go there, but you were acting out of adrenaline.

you heard another curse and the sound of the window closing, a frown appearing between your eyebrows as you gently opened the door, ready to attack whoever the fuck was in your room, clutching the flowerpot in one hand and holding the towel that was sliding off your body with the other.

"chris, what the fuck?!" your eyes wide as he turns around to look at you, dressed as a ghostface.

"i got fuckin' stuck," he removes his mask, running his hand through his hair, eyes immediately traveling up and down your wet body, covered by nothing but some thin towel.

immediately pressing the material against your body, now feeling strangely naked, your expression questioning him before your mouth could. he rolls his eyes, "told ya to remember 'bout closin' this fuckass window, didn't i?" he takes off his robe, leaving him in black pants and a t-shirt, his gaze had not left your figure, a strange shiver pass through him, which he only felt around you. "i knocked on the door, but you didn't answer again."

"couldn't you call me?"

he blinks stupidly, his eyes moving back up, "right." then he notices the flower pot in your hand, a low mocking laugh leaving his lips, "wanted to kill me with this?"

you glance at the flower pot, rolling your eyes and walking into the room to put it on the desk, feeling his eyes on you. "i was taking a bath, you idiot—" turning around, you almost jump when he's suddenly in front of you.

"i noticed," he smirks, tilting his head to the side. you try to ignore his intense gaze, "what do you want anyway?"

"you wanted to talk."

"weren't you busy?"

"took care of that," he retors. your eyebrow arches up as you peak out behind him at the mask and knife placed on the bed. "yes," he simply says, noticing your expression. you didn't need to know anything else.

"well, okay," clearing your throat, you grab some clean clothes from the dryer. "let me get dressed first."

"no need to rush," at the stare you give him, chris lifts his hands up in surrender and flops on your bed just as you leave the room.

you put on some shorts and a two size too big shirt, quickly cleaning up the bathroom as well. honestly, you were playing on time. you didn't expect him to come after he definitely said no in the text, and now you had no idea what to tell him, and the stress you were feeling earlier came back stronger than before.

finally finding the courage you leave the bathroom, finding chris in the living room looking at the photos you had on the wall. stopping in the doorway, you quickly tie your hair into a ponytail.

"i remember that," he points at one picture with you, him, his brothers and nate on it after one of your old friend's birthday party. you liked this one a lot.

"crazy night—"

"we danced together," he says casually though his voice a little weaker as if the memory of it was doing something to him. you're taken back that he even remembers since he was awfully high that night.

"yeah..." your voice unsure since neither of you ever mentioned it before. "-- yeah, we did."

the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile but he quickly hides it, licking his lips and settling on the couch. you take the seat next to him, keeping your distance.

after a short silence, he speaks up, "it was fun. that party." you agree with a nod of your head. that night you two were pretty chill, he was high, you were drunk and both of you just had fun, for a few hours not remembering that you disliked each other. sometimes you thought of it and wondered why couldn't it be like this all the time.

"so," he clears his throat, getting more comfortable on the couch, arm resting on the back of the sofa as he looks at you. "what's this super important conversation you've wanted to have with me?" his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"uh, right... about that—" you think about how to put it into words, heart pounding in your chest while your brain working at full speed. finally you just blurt out mindlessly, "we fucked."

chris raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable, "really? didn't notice."

you open your mouth and then close it again, trying to ignore his comment. taking a deep breath, you continue, "i mean... well, i was kind of drunk, let's be honest. so i didn't think—"

"c'mon, kid, we both know you'd fuck me even sober," he rolls his eyes, slight annoyance in his tone at the clear delusion coming from you.

"that's literally not even close to what i'm talking about..." a wave of heat washes over you from embarrassment of being called out like that. you had to find some excuse, because to be honest, you didn't know how you ended up in chris's bed. well, you knew how, but you needed some explanation for yourself. though, what you're for sure aware of, is that the desire and arousal you felt was real. "it was, like, another moment of weakness."

"you got a lot of 'em with me recently," he teases, scanning your face as if looking for something. for a moment you were speechless from the intensity of his blue eyes. and chris noticed it. of course he did. "it was good though..." he adds, his voice lower now.

you try hard not to look too nervous while agreeing, "yeah... it was." his lips curve into that smirk you knew so well while he shamelessly checked you out again, his eyes lingering on your exposed thighs for too long. noticing that, you quickly add, "it shouldn't have happened and we won't do it again."

"yeahhhh," his tongue clicks against his teeth. chris makes eye contact with you again and that's when you know you're screwed. "we won't."

with these words you look at each other too long and too intensely, almost as if communicating between the words. and you didn't even know when or how you ended up straddling his lap, gripping his shoulders desperately trying to steady yourself while he pumps his fingers rapidly into your cunt, curling them up to hit that sweet spot inside you. his thumb rubs circles around your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. the ghostface mask is back on his face, making you clench around his fingers. it all happened in less than ten minutes, that's how weak you were for chris and how addicted to you he's become.

"mhmmm, look at you... so fuckin' pretty, drippin' all over my hand..." he says, his voice hoarse with arousal. his cock was rock hard already, uncomfortably straining against his pants. "your body doesn't lie, even if your mouth does," chris watches you closely, taking note of the way your chest heaves, lips parted with little whimpers escaping them.

"chris— mmmh, f-fuck.... so... so g-good— oh!" your walls tighten around his fingers, hips slightly grinding against his hand. he flexes his fingers inside you, stretching you, his thumb on your clit picking up speed.

he smirks to himself at how responsive you are to him, "you jus' fuckin' love when i manhandle you, huh?" he adds a third finger, scissoring them, his other hand tugging on your hair, forcing you to keep your eyes on his mask. chris was now aware of the effect it had on you and it was making him so turned on. "constantly tryin' to make me mad, messin' with my fuckin' head, kid... not really nice of you."

you let out a loud pornographic moan when his fingers once again curl inside you, hitting your g-spot perfectly, his thumb pressing more against your bud. at the feeling of you tightening around him, a low groan escapes his lips. "thaaaat's it— yes, c'mon, give it to me... show me how bad you fuckin' hate me..."

"chris!" your eyes roll back as euphoria consumes you, head dropping forward onto his shoulder. "my... god...f-fuck you—"

he pumps his fingers languidly to ride out your orgasm, drawing out your pleasure for as long as he can. "mhm, i will," he smirks, slowing down his movements. "no need to rush, princess." he finally pulls his fingers out of you, lifting up your head, "open up."

as you obey, he brings his fingers into your mouth, your tongue immediately cleaning them up, tasting your own release on your tongue. "fuckkk—" he bucks his hips up, his clothed hardness pressing against your swollen bud, stealing another whimper from you.

you were sure you had lost your mind. you really wanted to make it clear today, that what happened at friday couldn't happen again, but it was so hard when he was... him.

"chris, we need to stop," you say as soon as he removes his fingers out of your mouth, immediately placing them back between your legs, gently caressing your swollen folds and spreading your wetness around, which makes you flinch from the over sensation.

"stop sayin' that when you react so strongly to me," his other hand moving to unzip his pants and pull them down his hips, freeing his leaking with precum dick. you look at him, the ghostface mask sending shivers straight into your core and you already know there's no coming back. "so?" he asks, gripping your hips, "still wanna stop?"

"no," you mutter annoyed at the way he was making you feel. chris bites his bottom lip with a grin, his body begging for any kind of release. he's never wanted anyone so badly. he lifts you up a little, then impaling you on his length in one swift, deep motion. both of you moan, his head throwing back at the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. he missed this.

"fuckkk, you jus' feel so good..." he praises, holding you still for a moment to savor the feeling of being burned inside you. then he starts pounding into you, his grip on your hips painful as he doesn't let you move at all, wanting to have the control over everything.

"...what a fuckin' slut you are f'me— jesus..." he looks down, watching as he slams deep into your heat, not caring about the noises or the mess. he's too far gone to worry about anything expect the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his dick. "sooo perfect, fuck— and what'd you say, huh?" he pants, looking up at your full of pleasure expression. "not happening again? fuckin' watch."

you're practically bouncing on him from the strength with which chris fucks you from below, your walls immediately clenching around him, the overstimulation from your previous orgasm makes your head spin.

"chris, s-so-- deep..." you whine, gasping for air as he changes the position to get a better angle. he flips you onto your back on the sofa, pressing your knees against your stomach which caused him to go even deeper.

"yeah? you like to feel my fuckin' cock? look..." his fingers wraps around your wrist and he moves your hand to the noticeable bulge in your gut as he slides in and out of your wet pussy. the feeling of him like that, makes your toes curl as you quickly feel your second release approaching.

"gonna... c-cum! oh—" your whines and moans now filling the room with chris's eventual groans when he feels you constantly clenching around his dick.

"come all over me, c'mon... and m'gonna fill you up, yeah? gonna do it so fuckin' deep, you'll be leakin' my shit for days..." he snarls, his thrusts becoming harder as another orgasm washes over you, your eyes locked on his ghostface mask, even if you could barely keep them open. he doesn't even slow down while you tremble from the intensity of your release, moans leaving your lips and back arching up. "squeezin' me so tight, shiiittt— you were made f'me...."

with a feral groan, he buries himself as deep as he can, his dick pulsing as he explodes inside you, his hot seed filling your cunt to the brim. both of you panting, chris props himself on his hands of each side of your body so as not to crash you with his weight. both of you panting heavy, your eyes now closed while you try to come back on earth.

once the last waves of his climax subside, he pulls out with a wet squelch, his cum dripping out of your hole. a smirk appears on his lips at your disheveled form as he takes the mask off, pulling back to have a better look on your swollen, glistening cunt. just as your legs weakly were about to drop onto the couch, he grips your thighs, keeping you spread open for him. "that's a sight..." he runs a finger through the mess he'd made, making you whimper. "sensitive much?" his tone mocking. his fingers slipping between your folds, gathering as much as he could of his and yours release and pushing it back inside, a muffled scream escaping you.

"chris!" you smack his hand away, your legs automatically try to close. he tsks, his face full of mock innocence, "what? just cleanin' you up." his eyes glistening when he makes eye contact with you and he adds, "unless you wan' me to lick it off instead?"

"no, thanks," you mutter fully aware he'd love to overstimulate you.

"a'ight, drama queen," he rolls his eyes, grabbing the tissues from the coffee table, cleaning his own mess before passing them to you. he sits up, pulling his pants up while you proper yourself on your elbows, starting to clean up.

a silence remains in the living room, he takes a rolled joint from his pocket, placing it between his lips, and looks towards you noticing how your hands and legs are shaking a little. you weren't able to clean yourself thoroughly, the mix of your and his cum running down your inner thighs.

"kid," he lights up the joint, taking a long drag. "the fuck you doin'?"

you give him a death stare, "it's quite clear to see."

he exhales, smoke billowing out as he speaks, "but, like... you don't— just..." he groans, putting the joint back between his lips, his voice muffled, "--fuckin' gimme it... can't even clean y'self up, jesus... so annoying..."

chris practically snatches the tissues from your hands as he spreads your legs, ignoring your confused and surprised expression. he simply starts wiping the mess between your legs, his touch strangely tender, "can't do shit with that shaky ass hands..." he keeps commenting under his nose more to himself than to you, the smoke from his joint filling the room.

you watch mesmerized, as he grabs the joint between the fingers of one hand, the other still focused on the task, his tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth in concentration. he was gentle, or at least chris tried to be when he saw how red and puffy your pussy looked. it was such a simple action but it made your heart do a backflip. and not only you felt this way, chris himself was somehow, almost nervous.

he finally catches up on your stare, a frown appearing between his eyebrows, "the fuck you lookin' at..." his eyes traveling to the marks he left on your hips, some of the bruises older from friday, others fresh and reddish. this sight fills him with a sense of pride. he finally leans back on the couch, throwing the used tissues aside, glancing back at you. "stop starin', kid."

your face all flushed as you finally tear your eyes away from his and manage to sit up, adjusting your shirt and looking around for your sweatpants.

"here," he hands them to you, taking another drag on his joint. you put your clothes back on, wondering what the hell was going on.

you sit next to him still slightly breathless, after a moment he passes you the joint, neither of you looking at each other as you take it.

"y'know..." chris finally speaks up, "for someone who claims to hate me so much, you sure do let me do all sorts of nasty things to ya."

that's what causes you to finally make eye contact with chris, annoyance flickering through your face at the sudden call out. "for someone who claims to hate me so much, you sure want to do a lot of nasty things to me."

he smirks amused at your response, looking like you exhale the smoke. "well, yeah, hating you and being insanely attracted t'you aren't mutually exclusive, y'know..." you raise your eyebrows as he continues, "besides i never said i hated you, i jus' said i hated you."

the clear confusion and how your cheeks were burning after his words, makes chris's grin widen. "what the fuck is the difference?"

"don' worry 'bout it," he retors, grabbing the joint from between your fingers to finish it.

"insanely attracted to me, huh?" you process his words. chris rolls his eyes, "insanely is a strong word actually, what i meant is—"

"nuh, uh," you interrupted him with a grin on your face, pointing your finger at him. "you said what you wanted to say."

"no, i—

"lalala, i can't hear youuuu," you cover your ears like a kid, the mix of annoyance and amusement building up within him. "you're a child," he puts out the butt of the joint in some empty can on the coffee table, and takes your hands away from your ears. "child."

you just smile, feeling unfamiliar warm spreading across your chest. it was strange, chris usually saw you smiling but at other people, not at him. it made him want to... kiss you? hold you?

"weirdo," he mutters, leaning back, but there's no usual bite in his tone. his arm rests on the back of the sofa behind you, his wheels turning around in his head. he glances at your side profile, his tongue clicking against his teeth, "i always wondered why you were with this idiot jake." you're taken back, glancing at him with a frown, but it doesn't discourage him from continuing. chris felt like he has to. "you were always annoying, but i thought you're better than that. he had no idea how to treat you right and you kept comin' back to him, what was insane to me. he was just a dick—"

"you wouldn't understand..."

"no, i definitely fuckin' wouldn't," he retors annoyed. "so m'not even gonna try, but he was pissin' me the fuck off. i was waitin' for the day you finally leave him for good."

"it wasn't that simple," you try to explain, but chris wasn't having any of that. "kid, don' bullshit me. you even try to defend him now when he's gone? don't tell me you..."

"no, i try to defend myself, 'cause you don't get it," you interrupt, not wanting to hear whatever he was going to say. "he was awful, but at that time i kinda just... craved affection, i guess," your cheeks heat with embarrassment. "and sometimes he was giving me that."

"what affection he could give ya? bet, he fuckin' sucked. and you deserve to get affection and all this other shit all the time, not just sometimes. that's fucked up."

"and what do you know about all of that?" you question him, which annoys the hell out of chris. "every week you have a new girl to fuck, then moving on to the next one."

he knows you're right, chris had no clue how to show affection either, he never was good at this because he simply never let himself attach to anyone. but he knew, if he had you, he would never be like your ex. chris would try his best to make sure you know you're loved.

"there's nothing wrong with that, they all know m'not lookin' for a relationship. i always tell 'em at the beginnin' that it's only a hook up. i don' play anyone..."

"always?" when chris nods, you add, "i didn't hear you saying that to me."

now he's surprised, quickly hiding it, but the way his eyes scanned your face was telling you everything you needed to know.

"well..." he slowly licks his lips, carefully thinking of his next words. "i never... i mean, i knew we'd do it again at some point... but i just— fuck, i don' know..."

your voice is dripping with sarcasm when you say the next sentence, but there was genuine curiosity behind it, "maybe deep down you expected something?"

his expression is unreadable, but chris's heart was beating so hard, he was afraid you'd hear. the question you asked stirred weird feelings inside him and he had to get out of this situation fast. you knew one of his deepest secrets already, there was no way he'd let you know his other ones.

"be serious, kid," his smirk doesn't reach his eyes. "enough with that talk. i gotta go..."

his reaction saying more than he would ever say. you watch as he stands up, "i am serious and you're running away right now—"

"shut your goddamn mouth for once, holy fuck," he snaps at you, gripping the bridge of his nose. "i have shit to do so i'm leavin', simple as that. not that is any of your business anyway."

your blood boil at his words but you don't say anything else. you were afraid your voice would betray you, so watching him gathering his stuff from your room and then hearing the front door shutting, was all you did.

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @swagalicious260 @giannalovessturniolo @sophand4n4 @brazyturtleneck

[pyrotechnicdarts]

i have yet to watch a single full episode of c3 but “the worst thing to ever happen to me has already happened” has a vice grip on my brain

[acourtofpenandpaper]

The Bat Boys react to your new set of lingerie (ACOTAR Imagine)

Tags: Acotar bat boys x Reader, spicy tension, 18+, imagine, reactions

Masterlist Masterlist Mobile

Rhysand:

"What did I do to deserve this wonderful sight in front of me?"

"I don't know, being the best High Lord that I ever had the pleasure to meet?" You ask cheekily, climbing onto his lap. Immediately, his hands meet the sides of your hips and squeeze your sensitive skin.

"That doesn't mean anything, given that you only met the High Lord of the Night Court", he pouts.

"It means something to me. Also, I am sure that no other High Lord is as good-looking like yourself", you say and caress his cheek with your thumb, resulting in a low rumble from his throat.

His eyes pierce through you as he takes in the delicate design of the night-blue bralette you are wearing.

Slowly, you reach down to his ear and whisper: "The panties have an opening...for fun activities. Want to try it out?"

In an instant, you feel him go hard under you but you have no time to assess his reaction. You squeak as he lifts you up and places you against the pillows of the large bed you share.

"You know my answer to this question", he says as he pulls his dress shirt over his head.

Cassian:

His eyes go wide as you enter your living room in the small apartment in Velaris and his smile goes even wider. Cassian sits upright and lets his gaze roam over your body.

Your body that was covered by as little fabric as possible. The no cup bra push up your tits fabulously. You had discovered this set while out shopping with Mor and you went back to the store to try it on alone.

So yeah, you enjoy Cassian obviously going feral about this new set because it cost you a half of week's work. But in the end, given his reaction, it was worth it.

"What do you say?" You croon and stop right in front of him.

Your question is entirely rhetorical because you are able to read his thoughts by just looking him in the eyes. They are painted by pure lust.

Without breaking eye contact with you, his hands find the zipper of his pants and he pulls them down, letting free his already hard cock.

"Down on your knees for me." He growls.

His wish is your command, you think as you lower your mouth on him.

Azriel:

"Don't look! It's a surprise!" You shout from the bathroom.

But who are you kidding, given that your boyfriend is a spymaster. His job is literally being not surprised by anthing. Ever.

Trying to clasp the bra, you smile to yourself. Calling Azriel your boyfriend still has a nice ring to it. And you are sure that you will never get tired of it.

"I am not looking, just laying down on the bed like you told me to. I swear." He calls from the other room.

Finally, you adjust the straps from the crimson bra with matching panties and smile to your mirror image. Somehow, you get nervous now and you don't really get why.

Azriel loved you, he has previously said so. No need to be nervous.

"Is everything okay?"

You take a deep breath and emerge from the bathroom, just to be met with Azriel's worried gaze. But seeing you standing in the doorway, his eyes immediately soften.

"Oh", he murmurs.

Your hands twitch to the delicate fabric of your panties. "Do you not like it?"

His eyes light up and he quickly shakes his head. "No, it's just when I saw the set in the bag before..."

"So you saw it before! I should have known!" You exclaim and he laughs in response, catching your hand and pulling you onto his lap. His hands graze your hips.

"Yes, I caught a glimpse of it earlier. You should find better hiding spots in the closet."

You give him a stern look but smile at the same time. It is all in good fun. He always catches your surprises.

"But if you would let me finish my sentence...I would have said that I saw it but my imagination could never have predicted how utterly beautiful you look in this."

And just like that, all your doubts vanish as he catches your mouth with his.

Let me know if you have requests for other reactions for the bat boys (or other Acotar and BG3 characters!). This was fun:)

[writersblockedx]

Nothing but his Wife

Pairing - Emily Prentis x Fem!Reader Summary - When Y/n comes face to face with her college best friend, she begins to admit that maybe they weren't just best friends after all. Inspired by 'Good Luck, Babe' by Chappell Roan <3 Warnings - Reader coming out? Words - 1.1K A/n - I can't believe that this is my first time writing for Emily but I thought about this idea and had to write a little oneshot.

masterlist

There had always been something between the two of them. Something which, for years, had been left unsaid. Emily Prentiss had always just been Y/n's best friend...at least that was what she told everyone. The girl chose to keep their midnight kisses and care for one another (that went way past just friends) to herself. The two went separate ways after college, barely speaking a goodbye and they were both under the impression they would take such secrets to their grave.

And then the BAU just so happened to be investigating a case of which Y/n was reporting on.

Y/n had no idea what Emily had done after college, where life had taken her, but she shouldn't have been surprised by her success. Emily had always been focused, driven. She knew what she wanted and she made sure she got it. 

The girl wandered through the police station in need of a statement. And just as she was at the reception, Emily noticed her. "Excuse me," She muttered to her team which were in the middle of discussing victimology.

Y/n hadn't changed all that much. Even after all these years, she still smiled the same way and had that glint in her eye that got her any news scoop she wanted. But even before Emily chose to speak, she took note of the one thing which had changed: her shiny new wedding ring. "Y/n?" She called her name like it wasn't real. "What are you doing here?"

Y/n gazed up, "Emily." She stated, almost like she had become a weight on her shoulders. "I'm working, what are you doing here?"

"Working."

The girl glanced passed her to where the team of FBI agents were seated, "Of course, I heard the BAU were here." She looked back to Emily, and glanced her up and down, "You want to give me a statement?" She pushed.

Emily completely bypassed her request, "I see you and him finally tied the knot." There was a sour look written on her expression - one of which she hadn't bothered to hide. "How long did it take you to say yes? Hm?" Sure, Emily couldn't be so certain, but she had her doubts about Y/n and her college boyfriend. The main one being the fact that Y/n herself had always said she never felt truly in love with him. Yet, somehow, she had married him.

The girl's head tilted in response, "Is that your statement?"

Before Emily could stop herself, she reached a hand out, letting it brush against the soft skin of the girl she was facing, "Y/n, I know you, alright? If he's still saying them things-"

Y/n snatched her hand away, "Don't- Don't profile me, Em." She huffed through a stern glance. "You don't know the last ten years of my life so don't act like you do."

"Then tell me." She urged.

But Y/n had simply rolled her eyes, "You've got work to do, so have I." And with that, she turned her back on Emily.

In the rushed thoughts, the worry that this may be the last time they bumped into one another, Emily's voice spoke out to her, "Don't say I didn't tell you so."

Y/n stopped. She thought about the girl's words. She thought about turning and responding that she didn't know what she was talking about. But, instead, Y/n kept walking until her figure slipped away from view.

A day passed and the BAU were able to close the case and Y/n had her story. Everything should have gone back to normal. Y/n should have returned home to her husband and Emily should have gotten into the car with her co-workers back to the BAU. Instead, the two found themselves in the same city, in the same place, wondering why they had stayed.

Two vodka sodas down and Y/n couldn't help herself. The girl pulled out her phone, scrolling far down in her contacts till she found Emily's name. She sent something as simple as her location. And then she bought herself her third vodka soda and swore to herself, if Emily didn't show before she finished her drink, this would be her last one.

But, of course, 20 minutes later, the door to the bar swung open. Y/n didn't dare look. Not until the bar stool next to her became occupied. "A whisky and coke please, single." Emily ordered before she dared to even glance over at the girl.

"You came," Y/n observed.

Emily shrugged as the bartender returned with her drink, "I assumed you wanted me to." She took a sip of her drink before raising a brow at the girl.

She swallowed the nerves which had been growing in her throat since she laid eyes on the girl the day before, "I keep thinking about what you said, when you asked how long it had taken me to say yes to his proposal." When Y/n's husband got down on one knee, she refused at first. She wasn't certain. She never was with him. But Emily...well it was her very certainty about the girl that scared her. "How did you know?"

"Like I said, I know you." She repeated herself, "When we were in college and when he finally asked you out, you were the same. You were never sure you wanted to be with him. Even when you were in that relationship, you were debating all the time if you wanted to leave him." The girl went on to explain. "I didn't blame you, alright? If I'm being honest, he was dick, you knew that. So why marry him?"

It was the same question she had been asking herself from the very moment he proposed till the morning of her wedding day. "I suppose- It was easier than admitting to myself what I really wanted." Her pupils fluttered up to Emily, a flicker of the person she used to be coming through.

"And do you know what you want now?"

The answer was easy when Emily was right in front of her, "I didn't understand the feelings when we were in college but, I know that with him I- well, I don't feel anything." She confessed. "But seeing you now, seeing you after all these years, I've never felt so certain about someone."

Emily reached her hand out, letting it wrap around hers. "Whenever you decide to leave him, I'll be waiting." She promised. "I've always been waiting."

And in that moment, Y/n knew what she wanted: Emily.

[deadsetobsessions]

AU of Gotham! Tim Drake! Danny where he doesn’t know the universe he was reincarnated into.

“Robin!” Batman barked. Tim sighed, loudly. Batman twitched.

“What is it, B?”

“Drills. Again.”

Tim rolled his eyes but moved to obey. Speaking to B these days was like speaking to a rather boorish caveman. Simple grunts and single word sentences. It didn't use to be like this but B was loosing his grip on his humanity and it’s Tim’s job to bring it back.

It’s hilarious because he’s the least human of them all. It was odd, juggling his duties as Danny Gotham, his responsibilities as Tim, and his workload as Bruce’s shiny new Robin. Somehow he made it work.

Yeah, sometimes B’s hands are heavy when they’re training. Sometimes he forgets Danny’s name (or at least his human name) and calls for Jason instead. Sometimes, he smells more like booze and less like Bruce.

Danny could handle it. Even if his core quivers with grief. He wished he didn’t have to, but he could and will handle whatever he needs to for his Knight to regain himself. But fuck, that doesn’t mean taking his self destructive habits lying down. He might be Tim right now, but as far as Batman knew, Tim was here on the orders of

“B.”

“Hm.”

Oh, a neutral grunt! I see we’ve upgraded to grunts instead of arm flapping! Holy detective, Batman! Aren’t I glad I learned to speak cave man? Wow! Tim mocked, in his head.

“You’re heading to bed when I’m done with this set,” Tim said.

“This case isn’t done,” Batman growled. Ancients, it was like speaking to a large chihuahua-toddler hybrid. All the barking, all the growling, and all the petulance of a child makes the entirety of how his Knight acted on a good day these days.

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Tim shot back, sore arms and legs and everything working through the set. Thank the ancients for his healing, or else Tim might actually be dying.

“You don’t give me orders, Robin.”

“No, but Gotham does.” He would know, considering Tim was Gotham.

The head full of greasy- ew, take a shower, B!- hair swiveled towards him.

“You have a direct line to Gotham?”

Tim settled into the final forms of the night. “Gotham sent me. I thought we went over this.”

A beat of silence.

Batman returned to clacking away at the computer. Tim finished his set in relative peace. He moved to the cool down stretches while Batman sulked in front of his computer like a five year old.

“I’m done.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Hm.”

“That means you’re done, too.”

“I’m not tired.”

Tim rolled his eyes so hard, he thinks he saw the light. Oh, wait, that’s just Bruce’s last brain cell dying.

“You’re heading to bed. Good luck finding actual crime tomorrow, if you stay up.”

Batman stilled, because he knows Gotham would back Tim up on the threat. Considering the time sensitivity of some of these cases, Gotham’s anger is not something he could risk.

Tim patted himself on the back for effectively playing the good cop and the bad cop on his own. Except ACAB for life because they’re vigilantes and the GCPD as a whole (with exceptions) sucks ass.

He watched as Batman- as Bruce- reluctantly powered down the Bat-Computer. As he stood up, Tim wrinkled his nose.

“Never mind. You take a shower first. I’ll text Alfred.”

“Not necessary.”

“Okay, then you can explain to Gotham why you’re traipsing through his city looking a starved rat and smelling like you took a joy ride in Killer Croc’s excrement. Oh, wait.” Tim snapped, just about done being patient today. Tim whipped out his phone, texting Alfred with one hand and pointing towards the staircase with the other.

“Shower above ground, you weird little mole rat. No cave water for you.”

Bruce makes a weird offended grunt.

“I literally don’t care if you have to walk up to your room to shower in your boxers, B. Most of Gotham’s people don’t have access to a shower, let alone a million dollar bathroom. Fucking use your actual bathroom instead of hosing off.”

And with that, Batman and Bruce Wayne moved to the tune of a pre-teen, who was also, unknowingly to him, the spirit of his City.

——

“Go home.”

Tim smiled sweetly. Bruce paled. The scary, Gotham loved child patted Bruce’s hand as he sat beside Bruce’s bed.

“Sleep, before I make you.”

Bruce slammed his eyelids shut, anything to not look at Tim’s malicious looking eyes, and allowed himself- nay, forced himself- to rest for the first time in weeks since Jason died.

As Bruce’s dumb self drifted off to dreamland, Tim muttered, “Wuss.”

He settled himself into the chair, napping lightly to make sure Bruce doesn’t sneak out to work when he’s gone.

Alfred snapped a quick picture.

[writeroutoftime]

pawns in your game (part 2/2)

part one

pairing: cassian x reader

summary: upon waking up, cassian and the rest of the inner circle are relieved, but it seems there are still some wounds that need healing.

warnings: none, but some conversations that need to happen in ACOTAR canon lol

words: 1.6k

a/n: thank you for all the support and love for part one! sorry for the wait on the second (and final) part, I just had so much trouble! the conversation between you, cass, rhys, and feyre was written like 3 different times lol. anyway, now that it is finished, please enjoy and I'd love to hear what you think! have a fabulous day! '

(also, if you have any other requests for our acotar men, please send them my way!)

oOoOo

Two days passed since Rhys and Cass had their conversation. Neither male spoken to the other since, and word had spread through the rest of the Inner Court over what had occurred. Cass, however, couldn't find it himself to care as he continued to keep vigil over your bedside, only sleeping when he could no longer force his eyes open through the weight that threatened to drag them down.

Suddenly, body feeling as though it weighed a thousand tons, you opened your eyes, groaning at the soft sunlight that streamed into the room. The sheets beneath you felt scratchier than normal beneath your body, and it took a moment to realize you were in the med wing.

You felt a heavy weight in your left hand, and carefully, you shifted your gaze to see Cassian gripped it tightly. His back and wings were hunched over as he slept in what seemed to be the most uncomfortable position imaginable. Although you were hesitant to wake him, you needed water and to know what had happened, so you shook your hand to wake your mate up.

In response, Cass shot straight up, his siphons pulsed a warning red as if he thought you and he were in some kind of danger. But once his mind and body had more than a moment to react his hazel eyes found yours and widened to the size of saucers.

"You're up!" he shouted, tears lining his eyes. Without thinking, Cass leaned forward and engulfed your body in his, and you didn't miss the way his body shook slightly in relief.

"I'm here, I'm okay." you whispered, running your fingers through his tangled hair. "H-how long have I been out?" you whispered, voice scratchy and rough.

"Nearly a week." Cass explained, pulling away and hurrying to grab a glass of water from the bedside table. "Here, drink."

The cool relief of water slipped down your throat, and you already felt better. Sore, you tried to stretch your body out to the best of your ability while trying to recall everything that occurred after leaving the Spring Court manor. "What happened?"

Cass barely held back a growl at the thought. "While you and Rhysand were in the Spring Court, there was an armed guard looking to shoot him with an arrow. But you, being the selfless female you are," Cass chided. "jumped in front of him and were shot with an especially strong dose of poison."

Silence rested between you both, and you could feel the waves of grief that poured down from Cassian's side of the bond. You could only imagine what he must have felt like the past week. If the roles had been reversed, you would have been a mess, tearing apart anything and anyone that got in the way of your wrath.

"I-I think I remember jumping in front of Rhys. He killed the Spring Court solider right away and didn't know what to do. Somehow, he managed to winnow us both back here, and that's all I remember." you admitted.

"That damn bargain." Cass said, growling this time. "We could do the same thing, and then how fucked would the Night Court be."

There was an anger that pulsed from Cass which went deeper than just being worried about his mate. Slowly, you shifted from your spot and moved to sit up against your pillows. "Cass," you began slowly. "what else happened while I was asleep?"

Cassian did not look the least bit guilty as he looked you straight in the eyes. "I told Rhysand off. I told him how I felt about his precious bargain that allows him and Feyre to stay protected while the rest of us suffer the consequences."

An odd feeling washed over you at Cassian's words. On one hand, you can't believe that Cass spoke those words to his brother - to his High Lord. On the other hand, you always felt a small pang of pride that Cassian stood his ground, and yours by extension. But you knew neither of those feelings fixed the larger issue at hand.

"Cass," you started, before he interrupted you.

"I'm not sorry for what I said. It's something we've all been thinking since before Nyx's birth, but, apparently, I was the only one who had the balls to actually say something.

Your teeth caught against your lips, trying, and failing, to hold back a laugh at your mate's words. "I did not protect Rhys because of his and Feyre's bargain, nor because of my oath to him as High Lord." you began carefully. "I did it because he is my friend, and I know he would do the same for me." you confessed.

Cassian was disgruntled at the suggestion. Opening his mouth, most likely to spew more insults against Rhys, you beat him to the punch.

"But," you continued. "I also feel as though sometimes it is overbearing to have to be even more responsible for Rhys and Feyre's survival, especially now that Nyx is involved. I think we need to talk to them." you admitted, motioning for Cassian to rest against you so you could lean your head against his solid shoulder.

The two of you laid there for quite some time before there was a tentative knock at the door. Your High Lord and Lady stuck their heads in, trying to read Cassian's mood. However, Feyre's eyes widened when she noticed your eyes open, and body propped up in bed. A wide smile overtook her face, and she abandoned her mate to rush to your side. 

"You're awake!" she cried, grasping her free hand in yours and squeezing tightly.

Rhys continued to stand by the door, wary of Cass' razor-sharp gaze that seemed to pierce through to his soul. Only the tiniest bit of his guilt alleviated seeing you up after so long. "How are you feeling?" 

"Still sore, but doing alright." you admitted, shrugging your shoulders as though you had merely scrapped a knee.

There was an awkward silence that descended upon the room, and none of you knew how to fix it. Cass pulled you even closer to his side and threaded his hand in yours. Meanwhile, Feyre and Rhys shared a private conversation, silently debating who should be the first to broach the elephant in the room.

"I think we need to talk." you finally began. 

At the same time, Rhys blurted out. "I'm so sorry that this happened, y/n." 

You both stared at one another, really taking the other in. Rhys noted the bandage wrapped around the shoulder where the arrow had met its target. He noticed the way your eyes would flinch in pain whenever you pulled at your muscles wrong and the look of fatigue that overtook your features. From your perspective, it was impossible to miss the dark shadows under Rhys' eyes and the guilt that remained present in his eyes and across his face. 

"I don't blame you for what happened. I hope you know that, Rhysand." you said, squeezing your mate's hand, as you stared straight into Rhys' violet eyes. 

"But I should have been paying more attention to our surroundings. After everything that's happened with Spring, I don't know why I wasn't already expecting something like this to occur. That arrow was meant for me, y/n, and you saved my life." he said, eyes flickering to Feyre for a brief moment, his meaning clear. Rhys cleared his throat, trying not to sound as choked up. "I don't believe it's been said, and you deserve so much more than this, but thank you." 

The words were simple, yet heartfelt all the same. You didn't need to be a daemati to know that Rhys meant every word he spoke. Feyre nodded her head in agreement, sending a message of thanks and gratitude your way. Your heart warmed at the gesture, but a look towards Cassian told you he still was unimpressed. 

"You are my friend, no thanks necessary. Though it is appreciated nonetheless." you smiled. "But," you continued, letting the word hang in the air. "I know little of what happened before I woke up, and it feels like we need to talk about that too." 

The male holding your hand at least had the decency to shift uncomfortably at the thought. Though, he still did not start up any conversation, instead, feeling justified in the words he said to defend his mate - the love of his life. 

Feyre must have been filled in on the details of Rys' and Cass' conversation because a haunted look morphed across her features. "We never meant for our bargain to become a burden on our family." she whispered, staring down at her tattooed hands.  

Cass scoffed at the statement, and you smacked your hand against his chest and narrowed your eyes in his direction. "What?" he protested. "I thought we wanted to have an honest conversation here?" 

"Cass is right." Rhys spoke. "I don't think we every really had a discussion about what this bargain means for us as a family. So," he paused, glancing at Feyre who nodded. "we want to hear how you feel about everything that has gone down." 

"I think it was a fucking stupid idea." Cass spoke up, not caring how it sounded. 

"Harsh, but fair, I suppose." Rhys said with a stilted laugh, trying to ease the tension. 

"I think what Cass is trying to say," you began. "is that, of course, we know what our oath to you as our High Lord and Lady means. But, when you told us about the other bargain, it felt as though the weight of the world fell on our shoulders." 

Feyre reached out to grasp Rhys' hand for support. "Cassian is right, it was stupid on our part. We weren't even thinking when we made that vow." 

"What would you have done, Cassian?" Rhys added, trying to appeal to his brother.

A part of your heart ached at Feyre's words. Turning your head, you gave Cassian a soft gaze and sent a wave of love and adoration down the bond. He and you both knew there wasn't anything the other wouldn't do for you. It could have just as easily been you and he with the death bargain hanging over your shoulders. 

"Love may not always make sense, but that doesn't make it stupid. It's not like Cass and I wouldn't have done the same thing in a moment of high emotions." you admitted. "Though, our deaths don't necessarily lead to the Night Court being thrown into chaos." 

Rhys and Feyre both looked ashamed at the statement. "That is a conversation Rhys and I have had many times. And something we've been planning to share with you all. Soon." she promised, nodding solemnly.

You and Cass both nodded at the sentiment. It was a relief to know all this worrying had not been one-sided all these months. However, Feyre's words did not - nor could not - suddenly fix everything. There was still an acknowledgement of their actions that had yet to be addressed. An acknowledgement of the fear you and the rest of the Inner Circle had felt since and all the sacrifices which had been made.

"Feyre and I see the effort you and Cass have put into keeping us safe, I hope you know that." Rhys offered. "I can't say for certain what will continue to come of this situation, but Feyre and I promise to keep looking for a solution and to make sure you, and the rest of our family, feel heard. I'm sorry it's taken until tragedy struck for us to have this talk." he finished, baring the guilt and fear that had been marring his soul for the past week to you and his brother.

Cass looked his brother in the eyes, holding the stare for a few moments. Your breath stopped as you braced yourself for another blow out, but through your squinted eyes you noticed the way the tension had dissipated from Cass' body ever so slightly.

"It doesn't fix everything," Cass started, and all three of you in the room tensed, waiting for another raging display of anger. "but it's a start." he relented.

The two Illyrians locked eyes, and Cass tightened his grip on you as he and Rhys had a silent conversation. The two knew there would be much more talking and healing that needed to happen first, but eventually you were sure things would turn out all right.

After all, it was a start.

oOoOo

a/n: there it is, part 2! like I said, I was really nervous about posting this, and I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations!

tagging: @captainsophiestark, @eerievixen, @kylaisra, @tele86, @starsinyourseyes, @lisanna2000, @highladyivy

[xlatrina]

(Pt. II.1) Friends to Lovers HCs w/Homicipher x GN!Reader

Tags: Platonic + Romantic HCs, Friends to Lovers trope for basically every LI, Likely OOC for some LIs*, Mini Scenarios (so HCs are kinda plot-driven), *Multi-Part Series, entirely SFW

Also, changing tenses in some cases + not proofread again... sorry!

*Some of the LIs are likely written OOC (Out Of Character) mainly due to a lack of substantial in-game appearances (at least in my opinion!). 

*Split into multiple parts because I’ve come to realize that these HCs are muuucccchhh too long 😅 BUT!! I’m too lazy to shorten them sooo… YEAH lol

Part I (Big 🙆‍♂️)

Part II (Mr. Chopped 🪓)

Part III (Mr. Crawling 👣)

$$$

Mr. Chopped (First Half/Second Half)

For someone who’s just a head, he gets around!

When you decided to help him out back in that weird room, Mr. Chopped was so elated.

Yes, yes!! Finally, some help!!

He’s been stuck in that room for like… three hours.

Which isn’t that bad, it definitely could’ve been worse, but like… still.

Anywho, point is —he decided from that moment forward that the two of you are friends!

Good friends, at that.

He tells Mr. Silvair this all the time.

“Mystery person help! They help me! They friendly!” He’ll grin from ear to ear, his cheeks squeezing into his eyes.

And Mr. Silvair will just chuckle and say something along the lines of, “Mystery person good? How interesting.”

Mr. Chopped has volunteered you to be one of his closest buddies.

Which means you are now basically his caretaker LMAO

Or at least whenever Mr. Silvair is unavailable somehow.

“Could you carry? Can you help me?”

This’ll become a common request from Mr. Chopped.

Eventually, it goes from asking to demanding.

“You take me! Go there! Yes, yes! That way! Is ok. This place I know good!”

He says that, but you’ve circled the same set of halls like… three times.

It can get a little weary sometimes being Mr. Chopped’s defacto caretaker, but he tries to keep your mood light with his silly banter.

Even though he’s been in the Apartments longer than you, it seems he hasn’t been there as long as others.

He more or less explains this to you over time.

On one of your many adventures through the halls of the apartment complex, the both of you came across a door that led into a stairwell.

It was odd because it kind of just… appeared.

You’ve definitely walked down this hall quite a few times now (no thanks to Mr. Chopped’s fluctuating sense of direction).

When you propose going through the stairwell, Mr. Chopped purses his lips tightly and falls silent for a long time.

Just as you get ready to ask again, he huffs, blowing some loose strands away from his face.

“That way want to go?” He asks. But before you can respond, he follows up with, “That ok. If there to go you want, that ok. But I not know that place…”

Ah…

Well! If nothing else, you can’t say Mr. Chopped isn’t adventurous!

Being friends with Mr. Chopped means you get to see all of his cute little expressions.

He always has an exaggerated reaction to everything!

Walking through the stairwell, for example, one of the lights flickered, and just as it went completely black for a second, there was a quiet whisper. When the lights came back on, the whisper bounced through the area, lifting up toward wherever the stairs led to…

When that happened, Mr. Chopped immediately asked, “What you say? I not hear good.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you said. Mr. Chopped seems confused by your response, and to the best of your ability, you repeat yourself in his language. 

“You say you not make sound?” He asks sharply, his voice thundering through the stairwell.

You jump in surprise, jostling him (much to his mild annoyance and discomfort).

“No, no make sound,” You said. “Do you make sound?”

“No! No make sound!” Mr. Chopped yells. Small tears gather in the corners of his eyes, and he squeezes them shut as a deep frown seeps into his face.

“Leave here together! Me scared! This place not safe!”

Safe to say you booked the both of you out of there as soon as you could.

It isn’t too long after that, though, that the two of you finally find yourself in the familiar hall leading to the basement. There, you two find Mr. Silvair just as he’s about to enter the room, and noticing your approaching figure at the top of the stairs, Mr. Silvair smiles warmly.

He lets you and Mr. Chopped in first, and it’s then that you both begin to tell Mr. Silvair about y’all’s odd experience.

Though, Mr. Chopped did more of the talking…

So much more of the talking, lol.

At some point, you and Mr. Silvair find yourselves sitting on the couch, and Mr. Chopped nestles into the space between you two.

He just continues to babble on and on and on about the somewhat scary adventure you both had, and you and Mr. Silvair patiently listen.

Sometimes, you wonder who can yap more —Mr. Chopped or Mr. Crawling?

That being said, Mr. Chopped likely develops feelings for you after just being in your presence for long enough.

He greatly appreciates you helping him maneuver through the Apartments, and he knows Mr. Silvair appreciates your help, too.

These days, Mr. Chopped finds himself talking with both Mr. Silvair and you!

And soon, there are many moments more when Mr. Chopped finds himself talking with you alone.

You’re just so fun to talk to, he feels like he can talk to you about anything!

Continue? -> Second Half

[Part I (Mr. Big 🙆‍♂️) | Part II (Mr. Chopped 🪓, First Half/Second Half), Part III (Mr. Crawling 👣)]

[lazycats-stuff]

Hello, I was wondering if you could do a Ra's Al Ghul x eldest son reader, where the reader is being courted by Ra's and the Batfamily's reactions to seeing their brother receiving gifts from Ra's

Okay, I have screamed when I got this. If anybody wants me to write about Ra's, when I open my requests, please do send them. Pretty please. I just love Ra's. Also, 2.8k words! My fingers hurt, but I love it.

Summary: Ra's is courting (Y/N). (Y/N) really doesn't know how to feel.

Warnings: Ra's is sending gifts to (Y/N), Bruce is protective, everyone is protective, implications of smut, stalking(?), Ra's is a gentleman, dinner, first date, Alfred has a shotgun ready for Ra's

(Y/N) has known Ra's for a very long time. A little over 11 years now. Ra's has in a way see him grow up from being a little Robin, a little, defenseless child to a brave vigilante by the name of (V/N). He had, alongside his family had run ins with Ra's.

Ra's has tried to kill him a few times, tried to destroy Gotham City just to cleanse it again, kidnapped (Y/N) once to try to brainwash him and has an unhealthy obsession with Bruce being his heir.

He has heard it in many of his monologues through the years. It made Alfred roll his eyes and just cock his shotgun in response. It was a scary sight once, when (Y/N) was just a teen. (Y/N) knew that Alfred doesn't have a no kill rule like Bruce.

Somehow, Alfred is now the main rival of the infamous Ra's al Ghul. Over Bruce. At first, (Y/N) was concerned for his grandpa, but Alfred assured him that nothing will happen to him.

Now, (Y/N) has just started college, paid for by Bruce who made a college fund when he adopted (Y/N) officially. (Y/N) cried when he got accepted and then told that it was paid.

He still lived at home while he was looking for a job to work while in college and to get his own place and officially move out of the manor and be independent. Bruce advised him to save all of that money and use it when he starts officially working after college and to get a head start on his future apartment.

But for some reason, (Y/N) has seemed to forgotten about Ra's. He has been quiet and the family's attention was always on Gotham rouges for the last year so Ra's was not even on his mind at his point. But it has all changed one random day.

(Y/N) walked through the doors of the manor, tired from working. He took his shoes off and quickly went to the kitchen where his family was seated, looking confused, worried and angry. (Y/N) was confused and Bruce quickly walked over to his son, shielding him from the kitchen.

" Hey (Y/N), how was work? "Bruce asked and (Y/N) just raised a brow. He wasn't fooled with anything that they were trying to pull. He is an adult, not a child.

" Bruce, you know I love you, but whatever it is, I can handle it. " (Y/N) said, crossing his arms. Bruce wanted to sigh, but choose not to. He stepped aside to let (Y/N) see what was the fuss about.

He stopped when he saw flowers, a big bouquet light purple flowers. The boys stepped aside too, letting him look at the flowers. (Y/N) leaned forward, sniffing them. They were fresh, that much was obvious and they were safe to come close to them.

(Y/N) noticed a small card on the kitchen island next to it. The little card was emerald green with his name written over it in beautiful golden cursive letters. (Y/N) got an uneasy feeling, but still took the card to read through his contents.

To my (Y/N),

A sign of my love and courtship,

and a perfect gift for an elegant and dainty person.

Yours, Ra's al Ghul.

(Y/N) blinked a few times before opening his mouth, but he closed it quickly. Is this a game? A psychological trick for (Y/N) to let his guard down?

Ra's al Ghul is everything but a liar, but that doesn't mean that he won't trick you into a false sense of security.

" What the hell is this? " (Y/N) asked, turning to his family. Bruce wanted to say something, but he didn't know what.

" We don't know. It has been here when we all came back. " Damian said and he looked disturbed. He walked over to (Y/N) to hug him and (Y/N) wrapped his arms around him.

" Damian, don't take this the wrong way, but your grandfather is nuts." (Y/N) said, looking back at the card.

" These are called Asteria. They are meant for expressing the love in subtle ways. " Damian said, just hugging his older brother a bit tighter.

" Well, that is nice to know. " (Y/N) said and Jason looked outright disturbed.

" Whatever it is, I don't like it. " Tim and Dick agreed with him, voicing their agreements with their own opinions.

" Master (Y/N), I always have a shotgun ready in case of an emergencies. " Alfred said and (Y/N) chuckled at that.

" I will keep that in mind Alfred. " (Y/N) said and Bruce sighed quietly.

" I don't think I need to tell you to stay more vigilant... And I need to upgrade our security system. How do they keep breaking in? " Bruce wondered and Alfred just glanced towards the pantry.

His beloved shotgun is always ready.

" Al Ghuls can break in anywhere. " (Y/N) said, glancing at Damian with a smile on his face, trying to show Damian that he wasn't mad at him. Damian just sighed quietly, hugging his brother tightly.

" Okay, when we are out somewhere one of us will escort you. Same goes for patrol. "

(Y/N) sighed, shaking his head. " Bruce, I don't need bodyguards. " (Y/N) protested, but Bruce shook his head. " (Y/N)- "

" I can be with him father! " Damian chimed in and (Y/N) nearly gave in an urge to coo at him. Nearly.

" Dames, my baby brother, I love you, but you have school. " (Y/N) explained and then turned back to Bruce.

" I'm not having anybody tag me. " (Y/N) stated firmly.

" Okay, how about a compromise? " Bruce suggested and (Y/N) nodded, waiting for the proposition.

" You can switch to online classes until we figure it out. " Bruce said and (Y/N) shook his head.

" No. I won't stop my life because of him. " (Y/N) said and Bruce knows that there won't be a compromise with him.

" Just promise me you will be careful then. " Bruce said and (Y/N) nodded.

" If you need me too, I can drive you to college. " Jason chimed in.

" I can drive you back. " Dick added.

" And I can make sure that your phone is impossible to track. " Tim said and (Y/N) nodded.

" And I can give my blades. " Damian said and (Y/N) now cooed at Damian.

" Oh my sweet dear Dames, I knew you loved me. " (Y/N) joked and Damian grumbled something before letting go of (Y/N).

" I tolerate you at best. " Damian grumbled and (Y/N) smiled at his brother.

The next thing that has happened was a very expensive looking suit made in his measurements and in Ra's signature color, emerald. It was hanging in his room and (Y/N) simply went to Alfred who took his beloved shotgun to clear the manor.

The others were quick to ditch work or school and came home. Bruce closed off (Y/N)'s room as a crime scene and Tim quickly went down to scan the cameras. Alfred made some tea for (Y/N) who was a little bit shaken up.

He still held on his shotgun, watching his oldest grandson like a hawk. (Y/N) was shaken up because his room, his space, was defiled in a way. Sure, he didn't look for anything specific, he just left the suit, but it still felt like he has been defiled. It's the sanctity of the room.

" How are they breaking in? " Jason asked as he walked in from the garden. He scoured the area around the mansion. He didn't like this at all.

" Master Jason, they are Al Ghuls, they can break in into almost everything. " Dick said from the outside as he was still searching for clues.

" This is insane. " Damian admitted, walking in with a tablet in his hands. " Nothing on the footage. " Damian said, putting the tablet down.

(Y/N) took a sip of his tea, trying to not really think about this.

" Was anybody at home? " (Y/N) asked and they all shook their heads. (Y/N) sighed quietly.

" He has to monitor us then. " (Y/N) said and Jason clicked his tongue.

" More like he monitors you. " Jason said, making Dick smack him at the back of his head.

" Hey! "

" Don't make the situation worse. " Dick said and Jason grumbled something that (Y/N) couldn't make out.

" He is getting ballsy. " (Y/N) muttered and Alfred nodded, shotgun still in his hold. (Y/N) glanced at Alfred who was holding the shotgun over his shoulders, looking like cowboy.

" How long will you hold on? " (Y/N) asked Alfred who just shrugged.

" Until master Bruce clears your room. And until we know what the old bastard wants. "

Just the person that Alfred mentioned walked in.

" No sign of a break in, I scanned for any type of drugs, there are none, no listening devices and that's about it. " Bruce said, rubbing his face. What does Ra's want with his son?

" When he comes to Gotham, I'm going to maim him. " Bruce growled out and (Y/N) knew that it was just a matter of time when Ra's came. The others are aware of it too.

(Y/N) won't be going on patrol alone anymore.

The day when Ra's came to Gotham came about a week later. (Y/N) finished everything he needed for the day and was walking down the college stone stairs. He went to the parking lot to get his car, but stopped when he saw Ra's standing next to his car.

He looked great as always. A dark green suit, similar to the one he sent to (Y/N), a few rings on his fingers. He smirked in his usual way when he saw (Y/N). (Y/N) just clicked his tongue in annoyance.

" Ra's... "

" Did you like my gifts? I have one more on the way. " Ra's said, walking closer. (Y/N) stood still, allowing Ra's to walk closer to him. My God, Ra's since when did Ra's become so good looking? Wait... What the actual fuck is happening? Why is he thinking that way?!

" I don't know what you are playing at, but all of this has to stop. " (Y/N) said and Ra's tilted his head.

" I know you still have the flowers and I know you have the suit I have sent you. If you really wanted me to stop, you would make a point to burn them habibi. " Ra's said ever so smoothly, using the pet name. (Y/N) knows a good amount of Arabic thanks to Damian and he blushed.

" Ra's, it's wrong. I have known you since I was 8. It's fucking wrong. " (Y/N) tried and Ra's shook his head with an amused smile.

" I can see you don't really mean it. And why not give it a chance? You know I pick my partners carefully. I know you very well and I know you are strong. I want a strong partner and I know you can be that. "

" This isn't a ploy to make Bruce or Damian take over the League? " (Y/N) asked and Ra's shook his head.

" It's not a ploy habibi. " Ra's started, something shining in his eyes. (Y/N) saw the sheer sincerity and honesty behind the eyes. Those two qualities are often replaced with coldness.

" Ra's- "

" How about we give it a chance? I promise you we will be in Gotham and won't leave the city at all. " Ra's said, now in (Y/N)'s personal space, taking his hands into his, still looking into his eyes. (Y/N) swallowed as he looked down at their hands. He knows that he should say no to these feelings that started surfacing during the week.

He should say no.

" Okay. I will give it a chance. " (Y/N) said and Ra's smiled. (Y/N) looked up to see a sincere smile, the one that gave him wrinkles around his eyes.

" Can I kiss your cheek? " Ra's asked and (Y/N) nodded, not trusting his voice right now.

Ra's kissed his cheek so gently that (Y/N) wouldn't believe that he is an assassin.

" I will see you tonight habibi. Wear the suit I sent you for tonight. I will pick you up at 6. " Ra's said, glancing behind (Y/N)'s shoulder. (Y/N) turned around where his dad was and he seemed pissed.

Ra's was already gone and (Y/N) knows he will hear no end of it.

Nobody could stop him from going on the date. Damian was conflicted, but if it made (Y/N) happy, then sure. But he will go after his grandfather if he hurts him.

The rest of the family tried to get him to stay home, but (Y/N) said that he will go. Alfred said that if he gets hurt, Ra's will be dead by sunrise and won't be able to come back to life with the pit.

The others tried to agree with Alfred and Damian, but they couldn't. But they had to trust (Y/N)'s decision. And who knows? Maybe it will be a... Well, it will at least be a better story than Twilight.

And if Ra's is serious, Bruce will be make sure to test him. Damian too. Alfred will be ready with his shotgun. He has been dropping bodies for years before becoming a butler.

He is not afraid.

(Y/N) was picked up by Ra's at 6 pm on the dot. The ride was filled with a nice conversation and a lot of compliments from Ra's. The restaurant that Ra's choose was extremely fancy and (Y/N) knows that the food is good here.

The dinner was the best dinner that (Y/N) has ever had. The date went well too. Ra's and (Y/N) had a conversation about everything that came to mind and they didn't even touch on their... Other jobs, well, a better phrase would be their other sides.

(Y/N) loved it and then, Ra's took him to the hotel where he was staying. It was a penthouse, how could it not be? Then they kissed officially and then passion overtook them both.

(Y/N) opened his eyes, gently rubbing his eyes. He turned around and he didn't see Ra's next to him. He was alone in bed. Where is Ra's? He was wearing boxers and he was covered in love bites. Ra's saw how tactile he is during sex and would he leave him?

He tried to get up, but his hips were hurting. He hissed as he laid back down. He didn't want to strain himself.

After a minute, the door opened and Ra's entered with bags. He smiled when he saw that (Y/N) was awake.

" Good morning habibi. I just went to get us breakfast from your favorite place. " He said, sitting down next to him with the bags, showing him what he bought.

All of (Y/N)'s favorite things.

" Thanks. " (Y/N) said and Ra's saw something in (Y/N)'s demeanor.

" Did you think I really left you all alone without a reason? Oh habibi. " Ra's crooned at him, kissing him softly with a smile.

After they separated, (Y/N) sat up straight and started eating. It was nice and after they ate, Ra's cleaned up and laid back down with (Y/N). (Y/N) still remembers last night.

How Ra's treated him gently, kissing him gently, making sure that he gelt good throughout... And the aftercare was something that (Y/N) didn't believe that Ra's knew. He was cleaned up in the shower, then Ra's helped him with putting his underwear on and then led him to the bed where he embraced him tightly.

" So (Y/N), what do you think? " Ra's asked, hands gently caressing his body in a nonsexual way.

" I think I would like a second date. " (Y/N) said, nuzzling Ra's neck.

" And your family is okay with this? "

" Oh not really, but they trust me and if you hurt me, there will be hell to pay. " (Y/N) said, closing his eyes.

" Are you still tired? " Ra's asked and (Y/N) hummed in agreement. Ra's adjusted and (Y/N) fell asleep quickly. Ra's didn't fall asleep, instead he just watched (Y/N) and his face.

He didn't know when his feelings started for him, but he wanted to do this properly. If he did anything against (Y/N), Bruce would be there to destroy the League and Alfred would kill him.

He had no doubt about it.

But he didn't have any plans to hurt (Y/N). He will make sure to show (Y/N) that he genuinely loves him and that this is not a ploy for any of his schemes.

[stargirlfics]

Misbehavior

Joel Miller x Black F!Reader

Summary: It’s the first and last time you ever talk back to his face

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, post-outbreak, Joel and Ellie are settled in Jackson, established relationship, brat tamer!Joel vibes, smut: rough sex, unprotected vaginal sex, orgasm denial, hair pulling, spanking mentions, dirty talk

Word Count: 3.1k

Cannot stop thinking about Joel’s sick little smirk here! I want him to put me in my place so bad, hope you enjoy this one!

It’s the way Joel Miller looks riding his horse, a hunting knife on his hip and a rifle held expertly along with the reigns in his broad hands that makes your skin prickle and your breathing deepen. 

Spring is still yet thawing the cold woods ahead of you but you only feel heat staring at his sturdy shoulders, sturdy everything actually, that you knew to be a fact, smiling to yourself about it as your own horse trailed closeby just a few feet behind him. 

Being paired with him and being with him period felt right, natural, like somehow this was always where you were meant to be in this life. 

You trusted each other now, able to move in silence like this, with his steady and well adjusted trigger finger and your sharp eyes, pointing out tracks, watching for signs of life, listening for infected or raiders, the two of you undoubtedly working well together. 

In fact everyone in Jackson said so, especially Ellie, but if any of them knew just how much of a brat you’d been to him in the beginning they’d be surprised you were together at all. 

It’s not that you and him got off on the wrong foot, but keeping him just on the edge of aggravated kept you at a safe distance away from acting on your distracted, midday, late night thoughts about him. 

He was wary of strangers anyways and back then you were unknown to each other and gaining trust had taken time but eventually you stopped keeping each other at arm's length.

Started seeing each other around the stables more often, or rather you saw Ellie there and quickly learned that wherever she was, Joel wasn’t too far behind. 

You remembered showing her the way around the barn, where supplies were kept in case she ever needed anything, noticing her interest in the animals, encouraging it, indulging in her never ending questions because you only wanted to see her smile. 

In retrospect you think that’s why Joel tolerated your game of push and pull, why he warmed up to you in the end, because you were someone his kiddo approved of. 

Funny how things could change, how a relationship could form in between quiet glances and soft smiles, weathered walls falling at the brush of his hand against yours and that smooth drawl saying your name as if it were sacred. 

That was then and this was now, patrolling the perimeters together in the moonlight. 

A soft toned whistle that loosened from his lips caught your attention, spine straightening at the signal that was just for you and him. 

“Hm?” came your distracted hum, huffed in response while you picked up speed so your horses were walking almost side by side then. 

“I heard you went out on patrol completely on your own the other night, yeah? While knowin raiders have been close, ain’t that right? So I’m only going to say this once…start explaining.” 

His voice is clipped, a quiet, contained anger in them reminding you of his sharper edges, the ones you’d only caught glimpses of, heard whispers of, that visceral part of him that only raged to protect the people he loved most. 

Joel would never hurt you, if you were certain of anything it was that, but there were times where you wanted to feel even just a fraction of his wrathful touch, to be reminded of what he’s capable of, knowing he could make it hurt in the best way.

It’s the thought along with the shiver rolling through your limbs that makes your pace falter, as you scramble for words and then for air next when all you were met with was dark eyes cutting a pointed glance your way. 

“Fuck…ok yes, I did but it was only because there was already a group of us nearby, it felt safe. They sent someone back to get a message to me that they found tracks, a stag, just needed my help finding him. Then one of Tommy’s guys escorted me back, it was fine.”  

“Doesn’t mean you should have gone on your own, I  don’t give a damn how safe it was.” 

“Hey! I’ve been hunting and going on patrols by myself long before you showed up,” you shot back at his harsh retort, suddenly feeling defensive. “I know these woods like the back of my hand, I could be blindfolded and still come back with more game than you, old man.”

He scoffed at your insult, another heavy glare coming right after. 

“I don’t doubt that for a second, darlin. Just wish you would have told me is all I’m sayin.” 

There’s weight in his words, a deeper meaning you pick up immediately and you know he’s right and there’s no denying that you’d be chewing him out ten times worse if he’d done the same, the risk of losing each other an easy nerve to strike after all that’s happened. 

A beat of silence punctates the air before you’re speaking again, tone much softer, apologetic. 

“I hear you. I should have at least told you and I’m sorry I didn’t, I wasn't really thinking in the moment. Thank you, by the way, for caring about me enough to say something.” 

You hoped he could hear the guilt laced in your words, and the gratefulness of them too, still getting used to someone so wired to protect which never failed to make your heart flip. Nobody told you it could feel like this. 

“S’alright, of course I care. I don’t wanna downplay how skilled you are either, I just hate thinking of something happenin and not being there you know.” 

That had you smiling a little, pulse fluttering at the reminder of your feelings for each other, the gravity behind what he was saying. 

Gently you let your leg nudge his, both your horses slowing as you came to the edge of the perimeter you were watching.

“I promise it won’t happen again.” 

The softening edge of Joel’s eyes were visible now as he looked at you, giving you a firm but approving nod. 

Silence settles between you again, only lighter this time with feelings eased and things smoothed over though for you, there was a leftover kind of excitement stirring in your tummy. 

Your ears were still ringing with the gruffness of his voice, an antsy energy in your limbs at how stern he had been. Heated distraction lodged itself front and center in your mind, thoughts of Joel handling you just as harshly as his glares had been making you squirm in your saddle. 

A low chuckle interrupts the tiny sparks of a dirty daydream you didn’t even realize you’d fallen into until now. 

“What’s so funny?” you feign innocence. 

“Nothin, just think it’s cute when you get that look on your face, only happens when you’re hungry…or when you wanna be fucked.” 

Again, you were left scrambling for words for the second time tonight, heart hammering in your chest at the way the last few words slid from his lips, dripping with some unspoken invitation. 

“I-don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Disagreeing is pointless when you know he can see it written across your face but you refute anyways, adding a bit of attitude to your tone. 

Joel huffs another laugh, clicking his tongue while he encouraged his horse to move again, back in the direction you’d come. 

“Hm, you were so ready to agree with me just a minute ago, now you’re back to sassin me?” 

“Maybe I am. What’s so wrong about that?” you shrug and roll your eyes for good measure. 

He was opening up all the right doors and you were almost too eager to walk through them, craving the part of Joel you knew could get mean.

“I’m really gonna have to do something about that mouth of yours, huh,” he sighed, amusement curling around the edges of his lips. 

Butterflies danced in your core as you smirked back at him, finding your footing quick, “Oh I should hope so, I’ll be waiting.” 

It’s what you leave him with as you surge forward, not straying too far from his line of sight, but enough so that he has some distance to cover. 

Joel gives you a few seconds, lets you think you’re gaining some kind of upper hand before he sets out after you, a tick in his jaw and a hungry itch in his hands. 

–

It’s only a day later that you realize how screwed you are, facing down the stark reality of this little game you started. 

He had cornered you, finding you in the hall leading to his bedroom, a dark glint in his eyes when he tells you it’s an empty house tonight, just you, him and unfinished business. 

The tip of his boot moves to give your heel a light tap then, prompting you to move. 

“Want you in bed, sweetheart. Now.” 

There’s a suspended moment before you’re sealing your fate, pushing the pendulum fully in his direction.

“I don’t really feel like listening to you though, so I guess you’ll just have to make me…if you can even handle it,” you tip your chin up, trying not to be intimidated by the way he’s crowding your space. 

Your skin tingles, never having talked back to him so flat out before. 

Then you realize he’s already got you where he wants, strong hands snaking around your middle until he’s got one on your hip and the other reaching for a fistful of your hair, gripping firmly before he’s moving you forward, pushing you through the doorway. 

A sharp gasp bubbles up from your chest and he’s laughing darkly.  

There’s no use in resisting or struggling but you do anyway, finding a thrill in how easy it is for him to keep you locked in his grip, liking the aggressive pinch of his fingers as he moves your limbs for you, bringing you over to the bed, forcing you to bend over it.

Shaky hands reach for purchase against the sheets as Joel slides his palms over your ass, humming to himself. 

“I keep thinkin bout spanking this pretty ass of yours raw but you’d probably enjoy that too much wouldn’t you?” 

All you can do is whine, too worked up to think of anything witty to say which is probably for the best. 

No time was wasted, nothing held back, no teasing to be had, the two of you desperate now, needy. 

The heated skin of your thighs meets cool air as Joel strips you down, yanking at your clothes carelessly, so what if the fabric tears in his hands, he just needs you bare and underneath him already. 

You work on your top half, wriggling out of your t-shirt, tossing your bra to the floor, moonlight setting the brown of your skin aglow; Joel would have called you an angel if he didn’t know just how wicked your sweet self could really be. 

It’s not long before your cheek is pressed to the bed, hips high in the air, the dripping mess that you are on display as he fits himself behind you. 

He grins, undoing the buckle of his belt with one hand while the other braces against your hip, pressing down, deepening the arch in your back. 

Fuck. 

The arousal swirls achingly across your body, thighs clenching as you watch, his worn flannel falling the ground next to your jeans, your eyes feasting on the expanse of his shoulders, down over his chest, down to where he was drawing himself out, already stiff, flushed and aching to be buried deep. 

“Remember how to tell me if you wanna stop?” His question is one you’re expecting, nodding with a soft whine when he moves to grind his cock against where you’re wet and eager, your hand reaching back to tap a sequence against his skin. 

He seemed to approve of your demonstration, his free hand coating the rest of his length in your slick with a few dirty strokes of his fist before pressing against you, the tip catching and your walls yielding, letting him sink inside. 

“Oh..Joel!” your moan is strained, punctuated with a gasp as you stretch around him, tenderly accomodating to his size. 

There isn’t much time to adjust before he’s rolling his hips and pulling back, pushing an exhale from your lungs when he thrusts back in, nudging deep. 

“Goddamnit, sweetheart. Look at you.” 

There’s so much reverence in his voice, big brown eyes sparking wide with pleasure, so much so you think he just might have forgotten about your earlier insolence. 

But then he’s pulling his hips back and snapping them forward roughly, setting a steady pace that has you panting and crying out, peering over your shoulder at him as he starts to pound into you. 

It’s a sight that makes you clench around him, your ass bouncing back against his hips, the muscles in his forearms, his biceps, tensing from the effort. 

You feel your mind going hazy but a sharp smack to your thigh catches your attention and you realize there’s nowhere for you to run as Joel curves over you.

“Uh uh, it’s not gonna be that easy. You wanted to be a brat so bad, now I’m gonna fuck you like one.”

The hand that had been on your hip smoothes up your back, gripping the back of your neck with a firm squeeze before letting his full weight drive his hips down hard. 

Your teeth bite at his covers, loud pleas and moans barely muffled as he finds that spot, the one that always makes tears well in your eyes. 

Joel relishes in how your body trembles when he keeps himself angled there, watching you choke out apologies and pleas for more all in the same breath, his handprints bound to leave bruises on your skin from the way he’s holding you.

He knows you’re already sensitive, and your body already spent from keeping yourself upright through his thrusts, ones that still weren’t faltering, but he also knew you liked that it hurt so good too. 

“Joel, please I’m gonna-” you begin to sob, feeling the pressure in your core deepen only for it to dissipate as you’re eased off his length a minute later. 

You let your body sink, collapsing onto your tummy with a defeated cry, turning around to face the man who so rudely denied you an orgasm, whatever valid reasonings he had be damned. 

Stepping out of his boots and jeans fully now, you open up to him completely, no longer shy about wanting this so bad, encouraged by how much he seemed to be having fun too, more arousal dripping from your swollen folds at the intensity, the security in knowing he’d take care of you. 

You’d pissed him off with all your sass but you knew he’d never push you past your limits and it’s why you give in so easily now. 

Coherent thoughts fade from your head when Joel finally pulls you down towards the edge of the bed by your ankles and moves between your legs to guide himself back inside you easily, rough hands shoving your thighs back towards your chest so he can split you open and watch as he does. 

Any sense of time or day melts away, your only focus being Joel, only able to feel him, what he’s doing to you, whimpering out curses and moans as he bounces you on his cock, thick fingers reaching down to find your clit. 

The bliss and the pressure build again, making everything hazy once more, eyes fluttering with each thrust now cause you’re too fucked out to concentrate on anything but how good he feels. 

But Joel is watching, studying the pretty faces and sounds you make, one of his hands quick to find its way into your hair again, grabbing a fistful and pulling firmly and slowly, tilting your head up so you can’t do anything but look at him.  

“No, no you focus, right here. Right here, darlin.” he grits out and clinging to his forearms is all you can do to keep yourself steady. 

His other hand leaves your clit to grip at your jaw for a moment, strong legs spearing his hips into you over and over all the while, the wet gush of your pussy taking everything he gives you makes heat settle in your cheeks and spread across your chest. 

Wrecked moans are swallowed by messy kisses, the prickly stubble of his beard against your neck driving you crazy. 

Everything about him makes you clench, your thighs threatening to tighten around his waist the more he gives you. 

But you wanted him to be mean and he hadn’t forgotten, delivering a few searing smacks across your inner thighs, a warning that told you to be good and keep them spread. 

“That’s it, now she’s learning ain’t she. Just needed me to fuck those disrespectful thoughts out of your head, huh.” 

“Yes, yes, fuck yes! Need it so bad!” your wanton cries make his teeth clench while your toes point and curl. 

Everything in you burns molten, succumbing to Joel’s coarser treatment, his fingers, his lips, his cock knowing all your sensitive points and playing to them expertly. 

There’s no reprieve, no break in how soundly he fucks you, the bedframe creaking noisily from the movement, both of you sweaty and breathless but loathe to stop, so much desire washing over you at the frenzied passion in the eyes of the only man that could touch you like this. 

It was everything you had been daydreaming and craving, sobbing into your palm by the time Joel finally let you have what you wanted. 

You came hard, the pleasure drawn out for so long the climax of it shattered you, leaving you feeling soft and weightless against the mattress as he chases his own release, finding it swiftly after you. 

-

It’s much later that you’re tucked against him, a dreamy and well satisfied tilt to your lips as you sink into his touch, those deadly, brilliant hands of his caressing soft circles into your skin, against the places he knows he gripped with force tonight. 

He checks in with you now and then, making sure the comedown doesn’t hit you too hard, only soft words and praise for you now, a few sweet kisses left along your shoulder as you drift in and out of sleep together, exhausted and content beyond words. 

In the quiet of his room you giggle that you swear you’ll never be such a brat to him again but even you can’t deny that if this was what the consequences were, you just might have to talk back to him more often. 

Joel knows it too, gleaming eyes narrowing as he warns that your wicked little mouth is next in line for a lesson if you so dared. 

Oh..well maybe you’d be catching an attitude again much sooner than you thought. 

---

A/N: Eeep it is here! This one took me some time to write just cause I feel like I get in my head about writing Joel correctly a lot of the time and with this including rougher sex it was a little bit of a struggle to write at times but I like how it turned out in the end and I hope this was steamy and fun and hot and that it feels real to the character too! Thank you so much for reading!

Let me know what you think, pls thirst with me!

some tags, no pressure! @eupheme @wyn-n-tonic @ozarkthedog @moreofem @fagen @black-fairy3 @persona-enthusiast @fluffyprettykitty @earlgreychiffon @tarrenterror25 @federalchickensoup @jolly-polly @inklore @babiiface95 @targaryenvampireslayer @chezamanda @simplykenni @allaboardthereadingrailroad

[anniebeckcalla]

𒀭࣪⋆ :completely: [mark lee x reader]

non- idol au. wc:1000 cw:self-h@rm, mental health issues, body dysphoria, fluff, slight skinship, slight angst. mental breakdown

calla's note: if you know that you might get triggered by sh, please don't read this story. it's okay, it doesn't make you any less brave or cool to skip this story.

You glared at yourself in the mirror, your image becoming more and more blurry as tears blocked your view. As you blinked them away, the water smudging your makeup, you hated yourself for allowing yourself to believe that you could ever look good in the strapless dress that your boyfriend, Mark, had bought for you.

Everywhere-your arms, shoulders, and clavicles- were crisscrossed with scars. They made you look like a wild animal had been let all over you; angry, red, and relentless.

“Cutter,” your ex had remarked in the past. To him, it was unattractive to bear the unforgiving marks of self-mutilation.

“Poser,” a friend had laughed when you'd accidentally shown them to her (whatever that meant.)

You bad been together with Mark for two months. With Mark, you felt like you could be yourself. You didn't need to pretend to lead a perfect life, nor be happy 100% of the time. He made you laugh, made you smile, made you forget about everything else apart from you and him. Although you hadn't yet said it to his face, you were convinced that you were in love with him.

However…

…you had never shown him your cuts.

You didn't want to imagine the look of horror on his face when he realised that he was going out with a madwoman. You didn't want to make him feel like it was his fault for your unsteady mental health. You didn't want him to leave you after discovering that you didn't truly love yourself yet.

For that reason, you had always covered your body with long jumpers and shirts, insisting that you were fine even when it was boiling hot. For that reason, you had tried hard not to show how unhappy you were when Mark presented you the strapless dress “as something to wear for our date.” You had hugged him, thanking him for being so thoughtful, and he had kissed you in response, glad that he had been able to help.

With Mark waiting for you downstairs, you had reluctantly changed out of your hoodie and long sleeved top and pulled the dress over your head, hoping that somehow, your latticed arms wouldn't look too bad. But here they looked, worse than ever, a multicoloured array of scarlet, pink, brown, and white lines in every place that the eyes could see.

You were soiled. Worthless. Disgusting.

Your body shook with sobs as the tears flowed freely down your face. You knew that Mark was going to find out, and he was going to leave you, and you were going to be alone forever and ever.

Tap-tap!

Mark's voice came through the door. “Hey, y/n. I don't want to rush you, but you've been a bit of a while in there. I hope you're okay. Um- I'm coming in, so I hope you're decent…”

You crossed your arms over your chest as if doing so would make the scars disappear. “NO!” you mouthed silently. But it was too late. Mark came around the door, ever dapper in a smart casual affair. He was smiling, but then he stopped when he saw your streaming face. Then his eyes went down to your arms, and he stopped completely, still as a stone.

“That's right,” you hiccuped. “Laugh at me. Despise me. Hate me for who I am. I'm sorry that I look like this, and I wish I could change, but I can't.”

Mark walked up to you and gently took your hand in his. “Why are you ashamed?” he asked softly. “Why would you hide this away from me?”

His other hand hovered over one of your arms, but then he glanced up at you. “May I?” he questioned. You shrugged in response. To be honest, you didn't didn't understand what was going on. Whether Mark was being kind to you, or whether this was his rejection ritual. You decided that you'd let everything play out.

Mark ran his finger down the raised scars, brows furrowed with concern. He looked up at you. “You see these, y/n?” he said. “These are what they call battle scars. They're a proof of the mental turmoil that's going on inside your head, You should never, never feel bad for having these scars.” He drew you into a hug, and the action made you cry again, weeping into his shoulder and making his suit damp. “I'm sorry if I ever made you feel that you can't express yourself freely, darling,” he uttered. “I don't care what issues you have, I don't mind what you've been through or what you have on your body. I'm going to love you completely.”

Had he just said…-?

Mark pulled away suddenly. “Okay, babe, I was going to say this tonight at our date, but I might as well say it now. I love you. I always have, since we met, and I always will.” You weren't sure if you could believe what you were hearing. “Even with my cuts?” Mark pulled you into another embrace, kissing you gently on the cheek. “Even with your cuts, y/n. I know that one day you'll be able to open up to me, but we're going to take things one step at a time.” He pulled at your dress as you broke away. “You don't have to wear this, you know, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You looked down at your dress. Now that you were recovering from your breakdown, you realised that you liked the way that the dress hugged your figure, the way that the colour complimented your hair and skin. Mark really did have a good sense of style. Besides, what was wrong with your cuts? Beauty's in the eye of the beholder, and you decided that you'd give your marks some love, even if only for tonight.

“It's okay. I'll wear this one.”

“Oh, great.” Mark tried to hide his smile, but you could tell that he was very excited at this small achievement.

So were you.

[atlabeth]

you’re beautiful — anthony lockwood

summary: a meeting goes wrong, feelings come out. you’d like to be sedated again, please.

a/n: so this started as part of “leave the door open” but then i decided i wanted something different (hence the wound dressing scene) but i really liked what i wrote there so here’s an entirely different fic! wow enjoy

wc: 2.5k

warning(s): reader gets stabbed, quite a bit of blood, couple death jokes, mention of not eating, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending tho

There was a saying in Lockwood & Company, courtesy of its namesake, that, if you had enough confidence, you could dazzle any ghost into submission. 

Nothing but facetiousness of course, but it was true in a symbolic sort of way. If you didn’t believe in yourself, in every slash of your rapier and every circle of filings and every salt bomb measured to perfection, then there was no use showing up at all. You might as well sit down and wait for the ghost-lock to set in. 

Lockwood’s words kept coming back to you every time you doubted yourself, his charming smile and eyes popping up in your mind, twinkling as he made you laugh. 

And those words were certainly echoing through your ears as you stumbled through Portland Row’s door, a hand still pressed to your abdomen when you collapsed. Your rapier, still holstered, clattered against the floor.  

George called your name from the kitchen, cheerfully oblivious to your joy. “You’re finally back! How did the meeting go?” 

When you could only groan in response, he emerged into the hallway and his eyes instantly widened. “Oh my god— Lockwood!” 

He rushed over and helped you up, propping you against the wall as his eyes darted all over. He took one hand away to push up his glasses, and you noticed he already had some blood on your fingers. “What in the world happened?” 

“The meeting didn’t go well,” you grit out, sucking in a breath as a sharp column of pain shot through you. 

“I could gather that,” George said wryly, and when you heard footsteps, you both looked up to see Lockwood taking the steps three at a time. 

“What in the world happened?” he asked brazenly, a wild look in his eyes. 

“That’s what I asked—” George said, and your breathy laugh was interrupted by a grimace. 

“The meeting didn’t go well,” you repeated. 

“I need actual details,” Lockwood called as he went off in search of the medical kit. 

“Everything was fine,” you grumbled. “But as it turns out, our lovely source Mr. Pallworth was more skilled in getting into trouble than actually being an informant. He was in debt to some even lovelier relic men.” 

“Oh, god,” George muttered. You winced as he put more pressure on your wound, having taken over for you. “I’m sorry, but this is so you don’t bleed out.” 

“Did you get into a fight or something?” Lockwood marveled, bounding back over with a white box in his hands. “Because it looks like you were stabbed.” 

“One point for Anthony,” you said groggily. “Mr. Pallworth ran off the moment he could, leaving me to deal with his mess. I was indeed stabbed. Only once, somehow. The relic men deserted when the police showed up, and I wasn’t far behind.”

Lockwood knelt down next to you, and he looked at you for permission. You nodded, and he pulled your shirt up to expose your wound. He did a good job hiding his grimace as he began to gently wipe away the blood, but it was still there. “Why did you come here and not immediately to the hospital?” 

“I don’t know if you remember, Lockwood,” you breathed, “but this job that we’re doing is not exactly legal.” 

“I don’t care,” he enunciated. “This is above our paygrade, and your life will not be on the line because of our lack of medical knowledge.” 

“We either have to help her here or get her to a hospital,” George said, “because if we sit here bickering, she’ll bleed out before we make a decision.” 

“I’d rather die here than a hospital,” you said.

“You’re not going to die here,” Lockwood said harshly, and his hands opened and closed into fists. You could almost see the gears turning in his head. He eventually let out an annoyed sigh and glanced at George. 

“Phone 999,” he said. “She’s not dying because of her stubbornness.”

George nodded, grimacing at the blood on his hands—your blood, you supposed, which made it worse—and he ran off. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have sent you there alone,” Lockwood grumbled as he started taking things out of the medical kit. 

“No, you didn’t,” you said. “We had no reason to believe anything like this would happen.”

“Well— I should have known!” Lockwood’s voice rose, and his jaw clenched as he got himself back under control. He continued to clean out your wound, and you could hear George rattling off information in the distance to the authorities. 

“You’re cute when you’re determined,” you said. 

“I am determined to not let you die in our foyer,” Lockwood said.

“The foyer.” You mimicked Lockwood’s voice. “So posh.”

“If she’s being this annoying, she can’t be doing too bad,” George said dryly. 

“Loopy from the blood loss,” you said offhandedly. You frowned as it sunk in. “Maybe I should go to a hospital.”

Lockwood heaved a very dramatic sigh as he continued to keep pressure on your wound. “At least you’re coming to your senses now,” he said dryly. He was still kneeling next to you, his hands covered in your blood, that wild look in his eye. “What the hell took so long?”

“I’m not…” you blinked the black spots out of your vision, “good with hospitals.”

“Well, I’m not good with you dying,” Lockwood said.

George came back over. “I’ve called the police—an ambulance is on the way.”

You groaned, half from the pain and half from the thought of the police. “We’re going to have so much explaining to do.”

“Leave that to us,” Lockwood said. For some reason, you found yourself grabbing his hand. He didn’t hesitate, his throat bobbing as he laced your fingers together. “Just hold on for a bit longer.”

You nodded, your mouth going dry for a moment when you looked at him— really looked at him. 

There was unbridled fear in Lockwood’s eyes, the slightest glimmer of tears. If you weren’t slowly bleeding out, if the black spots weren’t taking over your vision, if your grip on his hand wasn’t loosening, you might have been embarrassed at his closeness, at his doting.  

But apparently, you weren’t. 

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured. 

And then everything went dark.

-

You were assaulted by a barrage of lights and beeping, too-bright fluorescents and the sterile scent of disinfectant alerting even your still groggy mind that you were in a hospital.

There was something in your arm—multiple somethings, actually. A tube with a lot of red in one arm, and another with clear liquid in your other arm. Blood and an IV, you guessed. 

Right. You were stabbed, and one does not just walk away from a stab wound without a few problems. 

You weren’t dead, though, and that surely counted for something. You would have to thank Lockwood later, for his stubbornness beating out your own. 

“You’re awake,” a voice breathed, and you realized it was just the boy you were thinking about. 

Lockwood sat next to you in a chair pulled up at your bedside. His tie was undone, hanging around his neck, and he’d draped his jacket on the back of the chair. His eyes were slightly red, but there was undeniable relief sketched into his face. 

“I am.” Your voice was raspy from disuse, and you grimaced at the soreness in your lower chest. “How long has it been?” 

“A few hours,” he answered. He cleared his throat and moved to the edge of his chair, and your eyes followed the movement. He was holding your hand— he’d been holding your hand. “You— um, you had surgery. A small one, it didn’t take too long, but—” Lockwood’s voice broke, and he laughed mirthlessly as he shook his head. “It was scary. Terrifying, actually, but…” he managed a smile. “You came out the other side. You always do.” 

Your breath caught for a moment, and your grip on his hand tightened subconsciously. “I’m so sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for?” Lockwood asked wryly. “It’s not your fault you were stabbed. You did a rather excellent job fighting them off, actually. It could’ve been much worse.” 

“I’m sorry for putting you and George through this,” you murmured. “I worry about the two of you every second of every day, and most of the time it doesn’t come to fruition. This—” you laughed, which immediately turned into a wince— “I’d say this is fruition.” 

“I’m just glad we got you here in time,” Lockwood muttered. He looked at you, his eyes boring into you with equal parts concern and desperation. You used to hate that about him, especially when you joined, how it always felt like he could look at you and know every single thing. “You said the police showed up in the fight. You were obviously injured— why didn’t you get them to call an ambulance? Why did you risk it all to come back to Portland Row?” 

“I told you. The job we took on was illegal, and I felt it was going to be a much bigger mess than we needed to deal with.” 

“I don’t care how illegal it was,” Lockwood said stiffly. “You were hurt— you were in danger. That comes before anything else, alright? You come before anything else.” 

The intensity of his voice made you pause, unable to do anything but… look at him. His hair was tousled, no doubt from running his hand through it endlessly as he was wont to do whenever he was stressed. His undone tie and discarded jacket, his eyes, red from… from crying, most likely. He cried over you. 

When your hand tightened around his this time, you did it on purpose. 

“Thank you,” you murmured. “You’re probably the reason I’m alive.” 

Lockwood managed to crack a smile. “It wouldn’t look good for the agency if my employees started dying. I don’t have very many to lose.” 

That got a genuine laugh out of you, and you tried your best to ignore the subsequent wince. “Of course. That’s why I pulled through, to make us look better.” 

“Your efforts are much appreciated,” he said, that small smile still on his lips as he rubbed mindless circles on your hand with his thumb. 

The door creaked slightly as someone pushed it open, and a smile broke out on your face when you saw it was George. 

“I was wondering where you were,” you said. 

“Tea,” he said, lifting the drink holder with one hand and a box with his other, “and donuts.” He looked at Lockwood pointedly. “You’ve got to get something in you. It’s not exactly healthy, but the sugar will help.” 

You looked at Lockwood. “You haven’t eaten?” 

“I was preoccupied,” he said dryly. 

“That’s no excuse,” you said. “Eat your donuts, and as soon as we get home, George is cooking you something.” You looked up at him. “Right?” 

“Right,” George agreed. He handed Lockwood one of the cups and set the box on the table, and he smiled as he took a seat across from you. “You look much better. You’re bossing everyone around again—I take it you’re doing better too?” 

“Much,” you nodded. “Thanks for getting me here, by the way. I’d probably have bled out if it weren’t for you.” 

“Of course.” George took a donut from the box. “I can’t let you leave me alone with him.” 

“Oh, I would never,” you said wryly. 

“I’m surprised you’re willing to be alone with him after what you said,” George said offhandedly, and both you and Lockwood stared at him. 

“George—” he started. 

“What do you mean?” you interrupted. 

He made that funny little expression where he knew he said something he probably shouldn’t have, and he busied himself with his donut. “Nothing.” 

“George,” you deadpanned, “I’m the one in the hospital bed. I have pity points. Tell me.” 

Lockwood sighed and leaned back in his chair, though you noticed he still didn’t let go of your hand. 

“I’m guessing you don’t remember what you said,” George said slowly. “Before you blacked out, I mean.” 

“No.” Your eyes darted between the two of them. “Why? Did I say something awful?” 

“Not awful,” Lockwood said, still looking away. “Pretty far from it, I’d say.” 

“Why are you two acting so weird?” you asked. “Spit it out!” 

“You called Lockwood beautiful,” George finally said, and you just about died right there. “Right before you went out, you said he was beautiful.” 

You blinked. Looked at Lockwood, who didn’t seem to be the slightest bit embarrassed—god, was he smiling?—looked at George, who was this time busying himself with his tea. 

“You’re kidding,” you said. 

“...He’s not,” Lockwood said, tilting his head to the side. “You did do that.” 

“Looked up at him, said ‘you’re beautiful’, passed out.” George shrugged as he took another sip of his tea. “Quite dramatic, I’ll give you that. It drove Lockwood absolutely insane, too.” 

“George,” Lockwood said sharply, “don’t you have a phone call to make?” 

He chuckled. “Yeah. How could I forget?”

You weren’t even able to watch him as he walked out of the room, leaving you alone with Lockwood. You wanted to melt into the bed. This was the absolute worst way for your feelings to come out, feelings that you were content to let sit forever and never really reveal. Apparently, you couldn’t even almost die with dignity. 

“It’s alright,” Lockwood said. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.” 

“No, I do have to be embarrassed.” You stared up at the ceiling. “I do have to be embarrassed, because my last words could have been ‘you’re beautiful’.”

“Why?” he asked. “Do you not think I’m beautiful?” 

You groaned, and if you hadn’t been practically immobile, you would have buried your face in the pillows. “Get a nurse to sedate me again, please.” 

Lockwood flashed that irritatingly pretty grin as he took your hand again. You hadn’t even realized he’d let go. “Relax. I think you’re beautiful too.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “Even now?”

“Even now,” Lockwood said. “Always.”

“At least you’re not saying it half-conscious and dying,” you mumbled. 

“I think it’s better I’m saying it now,” he said. “You know I mean it.” 

You looked him in the eye. “You really do?” 

“What did I just say?” Lockwood chuckled. “Always. Forever.” 

You felt the heat creep to your cheeks. “I can’t believe this is what it took to get you to admit your feelings.” 

“It took this for you to admit your feelings,” he countered. “It took you admitting them for me to admit them. I never really knew you felt the same way.” 

“I guess I have a flair for dramatics,” you said wryly. 

“It seems so,” Lockwood said. “How about after all this is done, when you’re good and cleared by the doctor, I’ll take you out for tea. My treat.”  

“You pay my salary,” you said. “Everything is practically your treat.” 

Lockwood grinned. “Do you want to go on a date with me or not?” 

You smiled, and you pulled your joined hands closer. You pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I’d like that a lot.” 

“Excellent.” He smiled as well, a breath of relief coming out of him, and he leaned closer. “Just remember that you don’t have to get stabbed to get me to ask you out on a second date.”  

[eddiernunson]

The Taste of You | Modern Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem Reader | 18 +

Word Count: 8.1k

Summary: after attending a successful and rather sweaty concert from Corroded Coffin, you send the front man a rather thirsty DM on his instagram. You wake up to his response...and an offer to go backstage to follow through.

Warnings: lowkey unrealistic, alcohol, oral (f + m receiving), marking, begging (both), no protection, cream pie, use of aftercare

MINORS DNI

Based on my friend @bebe07011 going to a concert and DM'ing one of the band members (who looks a lot like Eddie) about how much she was enthralled by his performance and him responding back. This one's for you <3

Thank you so much to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you again for editing, you're my lifesaver.

-

You lean on the counter at work, distracted by your Instagram feed. Well, not distracted, per se. There are several more productive things you could be doing, but with your manager out on an errand and no customers to serve, there isn’t really anything stopping you. A post from Corroded Coffin comes up, a few images from their latest stop on tour. You can hardly prevent an excited squeal from escaping your lips, scrolling through their images, and rereading the end of the post over and over. ‘See you next, Indiana!’

You’ve been looking forward to this since buying tickets at the announcement of their tour nearly four months ago. It’s been a summer of anticipation; each post a countdown to your own concert date.

You discovered Corroded Coffin through suggestions from Spotify, the algorithm having picked up on your tastes in rock music and suggested a more modern band. Their music is good, you discovered. Their first album Freaks in the Streets came out about two years ago, and it’s raw in its talent but their latest album, Hell’s on Fire (And So Are You) shot them into stardom. You had it on repeat for months, and their lead guitarist being hot as he was had nothing to do with your fixation.

Okay, discovering Eddie Munson, (said lead guitarist) the main lyricist on the album, had everything to do with your fixation. Every late-night TV host offered a slot for them to play their music and Eddie’s charisma as he cheekily answers questions about his off-putting lyrics drove you into over-excitement mode. You can still hardly believe you're going to be able to watch his sweaty chest perform live.

Your concert date is tomorrow, and you have everything set up. You booked it off from work, got the perfect outfit, and the tickets are waiting on your apple wallet. You set your phone down, locking it. As always, the phone lights up when it faces up and you catch the image of the glistening sweat on Eddie’s chest during a performance from a tweet that went viral a few weeks ago, a photo you immediately saved for your phone. God, he’s mouthwatering. There were several hundred women in the retweets praising him as well, so, of course, there’s no chance in hell.

But it’s nice to fantasize.

-

You sit comfortably in the level 100 seats, dressed in a somewhat alternative outfit, high waisted black shorts with a fringe hanging off them, a chain on your belt loops, and a ripped crop top with the bands logo you found in an urban clothing store. You hold a beer in one hand and your phone in the other, recording the opening act as they sing to an audience that is only half paying attention.

Luckily, you know some of their songs on their short 8-song setlist, half-heartedly singing along but saving your voice for the main act. Though, you know your heart isn’t in it when you notice the placement of the jewels you glued to your temple is awkward. When you squint your eyes in a certain way they seem to threaten to fall off. Whatever, they were dollar store jewels, anyway.

The band finishes their less than overwhelming act, thanking the audience, and teasing them with the fact that the main act is backstage and apparently excited to put a show on for their home state. Somehow, it keeps escaping you that you happen to live about 60 miles away from where Eddie Munson grew up, Hawkins, Indiana. That place certainly had a reputation for itself.

You make small talk with your best friend, who is as excited as ever, if anything, to see your face when you melt to the floor. Natalie isn’t into their music like you are, but she can admit that their music is objectively good. Free concert and the power to tease you? Natalie is SO in. “What outfit you think he’s gonna wear tonight?” You shrug, sipping some wheat water. You don’t like beer, but the venue’s options when it comes to alcohol are…limited to say the least. Natalie leans in to you. “You think he’s gonna wear a shirt this time?”

You elbow her, your cheeks heating up. Some places he wears a shirt, and it’s a day of tragedy. Some places he comes out with his chest already bare, and it’s pure heaven. Although, he is known to rip a shirt off occasionally, and you have far too many videos of that saved on your phone. “I don’t know. We’ll find out when he comes out.”

You’re in the middle of a conversation about the politics of the latest show you’re watching together and the lights go down. An electric guitar is heard but out of sight. Subconsciously, you grab your friend’s forearm as your eyes widen in anticipation, your ass literally hovering on your chair as you’re at the edge of your seat. You hear her laugh, but you can’t focus as the lights on stage dramatically light up two at a time, and out of nowhere you can see the four band members, Eddie second to the left. Oh god, he’s wearing an open jacket with a metal chain. Holy shit.

You’re on your feet and screaming lyrics before you even know it.

The night goes by in a blur, and none of the videos you’ve seen online do Corroded Coffin any justice. Their online stage presence is unstoppable. And while Eddie was a large part of the crowd draw in, you watch as he interacts with each band member, using their energy to amplify his own. He really couldn’t do this without them, which is why he’s so insistent in every interview he’s given. Halfway through the show, Eddie does a quick run backstage, claiming his jacket was ‘too fucking hot’ and when he comes out in a fishnet shirt, the crowd goes absolutely nuts.

You sit in the back of a cab, buzzed and rewatching the multiple videos you’ve taken repeatedly, smiling giddily to yourself. “That was such a good show.” You mumble to yourself, sipping from the drink you promised to the cab driver you wouldn’t spill from. You’re so drunk you barely even notice the taste of the beer anymore.

The cab driver pulls up to the hotel and you drunkenly climb out, handing him four 20-dollar bills on the way, making sure he’s tipped well for having to put up with your drunk ass. He doesn’t seem to mind too much, but then again, you’re too busy rewatching your thirst caught in 4K to even notice. God damn, the video really doesn’t put his glistening chest any justice. It was even better in person. If you could just lick up his chest, you knew every problem in your life would be solved.

Your best friend laughs behind you, escorting you to the hotel room. As the hotel room door opens you just want to climb into bed and scroll through your phone, but Natalie makes you wipe off your make up and get dressed into some pajamas. You check your Instagram, Corroded Coffin’s post from tonight at the top of the feed. There were some high-quality shots of him in his fishnet shirt that you immediately save, going over to Eddie Munson’s personal Instagram from where he’s tagged in the post.

God, he must get hundreds of DMs in a day. One raindrop doesn’t affect the ocean. I wanna lick the sweat off your chest so fucking bad just gimme a chance. Your thumb hovers over the send button, but you’ve sent several messages to celebrities before, and they never respond. So, you hit send, and you’re asleep within minutes, your lamp still lit next to you as the water from the shower in the bathroom less than ten feet away from you lulls you into a deep sleep.

-

Your 10AM alarm rings, yanking you out of a deep sleep.  If you could, you’d spend the next ten hours sleeping to shake off the hangover, but you've gotta get up to have time to pack up and get changed before check out. You can shower tonight at home. As you sit up on your bed, dismissing the alarm, the headache kicks in, making you groan. Oh, fuck, are you hungover.

You check your phone quickly, and as you scroll down your notifications, you triple check a notification just to make sure you’re reading it right. At first, you’re confused. Why would he be messaging you? Your eyes widen as you promptly yeet your phone to your friend's bed when you remember what the fuck you sent to him last night. You curl in on yourself with your knees up against your chest and your hands over your mouth in disbelief.

Natalie comes out of the bathroom after hearing your phone bounce off the bed and land on the floor. “Whoa,” Natalie breathes, seeing your stunned stature. “Are you okay?”

You shake your head, shellshocked.

“Okay, can you at least tell me what happened? You’re kind of freaking me out here.”

“I sent a really, really thirsty message to Eddie Munson last night and I saw a notification saying he responded.” You admit, no higher than a whisper.

“What?!” Natalie nearly shouts, a bit loud in the quiet morning of the small hotel. “Well then open it and read it! What did he say?”

“I’m scared too look!” You admit, grabbing a pillow and holding it close to your chest.

Natalie grabs your pillow and tosses it to the side, her wet blonde hair shining prettily in the morning sun. “Get up, you big baby! Open the goddamn message!”

Fuck, Natalie’s right. Doesn’t mean you liked it. You bend to pick your phone up, sitting next to her on the bed as you open your Instagram notification. Fuck, he responded only fifteen minutes after your message. “Oh you sent him a very thirsty message.”

“Look what the fuck he wrote back.” You whisper, eyes wide as your heart pounds out of your chest.

apricothamster147: I wanna lick the sweat off your chest so fucking bad just gimme a chance.

eddiemunson: Well, damn baby, are you still in town for tonight’s show? Come backstage and we’ll see about making that happen. (Send me ur email for tix)

“Holy shit.” Natalie mutters out loud, her eyes bugging to his response as well. “Well? Are you gonna accept?”

You chortle, holding your hand out to her comically. “Do you have enough money for another night?”

Natalie shrugs. “I have my dad’s credit card.”

“Are you allowed to use it?”

“Only when I need it.”

“Shit.”

“Honestly, girl, you need it. Go ahead, send him your email, I’ll get us another night.”

Your thumbs move fast, hoping his offer wasn’t due to a lack of sobriety or a glitch in the Matrix. If you’re still accepting my offer, my email is apricothamster417@gmail.com. You add a heart emoji just to be safe and send off a message to him.

Your best friend is in the middle of a phone call with her father to get him to call the front desk. They would only accept the credit card if they could speak to him. “Thank you!” Natalie hangs the phone up, looking at you. “Hotel is taken care of!”

You’re lying on your bed at this point, still in your pajamas with your palms stacked on your forehead. “What the fuck am I even gonna wear?”

“You brought multiple outfits, right?” Natalie asks you, sitting on her bed and laying down now that she no longer has to get ready to leave.

“Yeah, I brought some back-ups.” You sit up quickly, eyes wide. “I need your expertise in styling it, though. I have to look hot.”  

Natalie sits up as well, serious as she can be. “Oh sweetheart, he won’t know what hit him.”

-

An hour into her crusade, styling your hair, your phone lights up in a notification. Your phone is closer to her, so you ask her to check it, Natalie knows your passcode, anyway. You know what it is immediately based on the expression you see on her face in the mirror. “Did he respond?”

“Yes!” Natalie answers, placing the hot tool down and putting the freed hand over her mouth.

“Oh my god, gimme that!” You respond, too impatient to wait for her to calm down.

eddiemunson: See you tonight (with a winky emoji)

“Oh my fucking god.” You let out, and suddenly it occurs to you that you’re seeing him in concert again. There’s even a slight possibility of you meeting him, however slim that he may remember to even do it.

A notification from your gmail rings, and you see ticketmaster. You hit it hard, seeing First Name, ‘Unknown’ Last Name, ‘Stranger’ has gifted you two VIP Floor Tickets with Back Stage passes, apparently just scanning the barcode will get you backstage. No. It wasn’t…no. This isn’t real. You stared off into the distance, eyes up from your phone. This doesn’t happen…

“Babe!”

You’re snapped out of it, realizing you zoned out in disbelief. “I’m just…a little in shock.”

Natalie smirks at you, tilting your chin on her fingertips gracefully. “Well now we know it’s fucking real, so let’s party hard, babe!”

Your eyes roll at her antics, but you love them. “Thanks for asking your dad.”

“Bitch, what’s a rich daddy good for if not for my friends?” Natalie laughs, starting to use the iron on your hair again.

Your makeup is done, rhinestones on the inner corners of your eyes, and you're wearing fishnet tights under a jean skirt and an oversized Corroded Coffin band tee. You usually used it as a sleep shirt, but Natalie insists it would work its magic.

Butterflies invade your stomach as soon as your black boots hit the pavement outside the hotel, the sunset cascading across the sky in a beautiful haze of orange and pink. As your thighs feel uncomfortable against the fabric of the cab, you hope your insides will feel as nice as the outside looks right now.

You pay your cab, all on the card, and get out, your stomach in knots. Well, it's now or never. Hesitantly, you hold your phone out for your ticket scanner on the main floor and she approves, giving you the thumbs up. “Wait.” the ticket scanner holds her hands out when she notices the big red letters, BACKSTAGE PASSES. You think you’re in trouble when you’re both handed the Backstage Pass Lanyards, decorated with the Corroded Coffin logo.

This is where you start to believe that you might’ve died last night with alcohol poisoning because there’s no way in Gods’ Green Earth is this real.

You both thank the attendant and walk to your seats, front and center, third row back. You could see the scratches on the sticker on the speakers from the inspector in the factory. Damn, were you close. “We’re going to go deaf.” Natalie comments, a half smile on your face. “Need a drink?”

“Please.” You answer, eyes wide. Natalie laughs and gets up to walk towards the bar, which is much less crowded around in the VIP section of the floor. Fucking wild.

You hold your phone and sing along to some more of the opening act's songs tonight, now gaining some familiarity with it. They’re great musicians, but they’re just not on Corroded Coffin’s level yet. They definitely have the potential to get there.

Their set list ends, and you notice that the lead singer is close enough for you to see the beads of sweat on his forehead.

Oh god, you’re going to die.

Natalie tries to keep you entertained by chatting about anything she can, but it does so little to prevent time from crawling by at a snail's pace.

Your phone buzzes in your hand, and it’s a message from him. Wish Me Luck! You swear up and down it’s immediately after when the lights go down and the guitar starts playing off stage. Did he really just text you right before he started his show? Did that really just happen?

If there’s one thing about being in the third row with little to no one to block your view, it’s that no amount of high quality photos on twitter will ever amount to the real thing less than ten feet away. The sweat that drips down his leather vest for the night is mouth watering, the dark eyes in his expression as he performs hypnotizes you. You sing the lyrics, and jump and dance and occasionally drink, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t tear your gaze away from him.

And for a few moments, it’s like he holds your eye contact. No, that’s crazy. Nothing is happening. He has a million other girls to choose from, why would he choose you?

The concert happens in a blur, Eddie flings off the vest about halfway through the show, splashing some of his hair with his sweat. Your friend laughs at the sharp inhale that leaves your chest as you watch it. Man, he really had you in his clutches.

Eddie holds his arms out for his band as they close off the last song, all bowing together. “Thank you, Indiana! You’ve been a fucking fantastic crowd, thank you!”

“You ready?” Natalie asks you, holding out her lanyard cheekily.

“Nope.” You admit, taking a large gulp of the beer you barely touched. “After another beer I might be.”

“You really wanna meet him tipsy?” Natalie asks, raising her eyebrows at you.

“I don’t wanna be afraid to say anything!” You shoot back, leading her to the bar. You buy another one, and it’s down your throat within five minutes. You inhale deeply, wiping your face off from the excess beer around your mouth. “Does my mouth smell like beer?” You ask, suddenly worried.

“If you have to ask, I think you already know.” Natalie tells you, patting your back and leading you to the sign that says BACKSTAGE in all caps with an arrow pointing left.

A big security personnel blocks the big black curtain to the backstage area. You hold out your lanyard to him, and he gruffs as he holds his hand out for it. He takes a scanner to check out its legitimacy, and once both lanyards are in the clear, his face breaks into a smile, stepping aside to allow you through. It's almost comical.

The backstage area is busier than you had expected, arrows pointing you to where the visitors go, narrowly avoiding the crew as they bustle around. You both walk into a large area where several band members talk to friends or family, all sporting towels to dab their sweat away.

“Oh my god thank you for sending that DM.” Natalie whispers to you, looking around while starstruck. “I’m sure half these people aren’t even celebrities, but this is so cool! I’m going to go and mingle, you stick around for—”

You grab her by the collar, “Don’t you dare leave me alone here.”

“Ok, how bout we both grab some food? Maybe sober up?”

“Only because I’m hungry and free food tastes the best.”

You’re slowly picking at the fruit tray when you hear someone near you call out, “Eddie! My man!” You turn around to face him, the half-eaten strawberry you drop landing on the plastic tray loudly. You quickly finish the fruit and watch as he hugs his bandmate. “What, no shower, bro? You stink!”

The room echoes in laughter, and you join them. He does stink, and he stinks marvelously. The very scent makes you salivate. His laughter, it’s even better in person. He’s never laughed like this in any interview, all calm and toned down for the camera. This is genuine, heartfelt laughter.

You turn around to lean on the table, Jesus you need to calm yourself. Seeing him up close is sending a heat to your center that you're going to need to resolve quickly.

“Fancy seeing you, here.” His voice sends a shiver down your spine, barely five feet away. You turn and face him, your breath knocking out of your chest. Words cannot describe how little all of the photos in the world do him any justice. He is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

“Thanks for i-inviting me.” You answer, gulping at the slight shine his sweat still gives him. “You’re a really great performer…” You find yourself distracted by his chest. He’s probably going to get all sticky soon… he smelled even better up close…

“I’m gonna go mingle.” Natalie says, pointing towards a crowd of people talking to the band members. “Text me to let me know if you’re meeting me at the hotel.” Natalie gives a shy smile to Eddie and walks away before you could answer.

“Thank you.” He nods his head, giving you a smirk. Then, the unthinkable happens as he uses his thumb and pointer finger to lift your chin to capture your eyes with his own. How are they so pretty? “Are you going to make do on your promise?”

You gulp, your eyes flickering down to his pink lips. You’ve stared at his lips, how many times now? You nod slowly, peering up at him through your lashes.

“Let’s go somewhere a bit more quiet, then.” He offers, extending his hand for you.

You take it silently, his rough hands feeling warm and rough, but perfect. He leads you about ten steps down the hall, a doorway marked with his name over the words Dressing Room. As the door shuts behind him, he locks it, flinging his towel across the room. “C’mere.” He offers, extending his hand to you. You follow his instructions, sitting next to him on the couch. “You haven’t said a goddamn word, yet your message said fucking everything. Is the pretty girl shy?” He asks, thumb caressing your cheek.

You nod your head, gulping as his touch lights your skin on fire. “I—I was six drinks in when I sent you that message. …I wouldn’t have even remembered unless you replied.” You admit, leaning into his touch.

“C’mon baby, let’s see it.” You raise your eyebrows, inquisitively, wondering what he meant. “Your message! Couldn’t stop thinking about my after-show treat all day, a pretty girl begging to lick up my sweat. Show me.”

You nod to him, your near trembling hands reaching out for his chest. Eddie nods, a wild look in his eyes that nearly has you passing out. A loud exhale leaves your body as your hands reach out and reach contact with his chiseled, tattooed, chest, some sweat beads still lingering. How, you weren’t sure. Your eyes rake across his chest, taking in every tattoo you can, your heartbeat racing faster as you lean in, to finally, finally, rake your tongue up from his stomach to his chest, breathing heavily when the taste of the salt and his pure essence is even better than you imagined.

“Holy shit, she’s a fucking freak.” Eddie mutters, you feel his breath getting shallower under your mouth working on him.

You lean in again, nails digging into his skin as you give another long stripe across his skin, the taste of salt and delicious B.O. on your tongue and you let out a sigh of contentment. You crawl up to his collarbones, having noticed a pool of his sweat there gathered while he was performing.

Your tongue slides into the dip, moaning at the salty taste. Your teeth graze the bone, nibbling a little to leave little tiny bruises. You can’t wait to save the HQ pictures with these marks.

You leave one last long stripe on his treasure trail, having stared at many photos where his pants sit low. You’re nuzzling at it, breathing it in when you can feel him. Holy shit, Eddie Munson’s cock is only inches from your face.

You look up at him, and the back of his palms are connected to his forehead, his cheeks flushed, and his chest heavily breathing. He looks down to meet your gaze, and suddenly he sits up, grabs your face and plants a wet kiss to your lips. Your entire body tenses up, barely able to believe that it's real. Your brain eventually catches up, responding in kind, crawling so your bodies fit closer. Eddie pushes you back lightly before you get too close, having you lie down on his couch.

“Can I, sweetheart?” He asks, moving down to where your cunt has been begging for attention.

“A-are you sure? I don’t mind just sucking you off.”

He chuckles, leaning in for another kiss. “Oh baby, you just earned so much more than that.”

Eddie trails down your body, placing kisses on your exposed neck, lifting your shirt lightly as his hands move to cup your tits. You whimper in kind. “Baby, do you know what it’s like having the most gorgeous woman in the world offer to lick sweat off you? If you just give her a chance? I saw your picture you posted from the concert and fuck, you’re a goddamn smoke show. Those eyes, your gorgeous tits, your thighs, oh my god, baby, your thighs.” He talks through wet kisses trailing down your body until he’s face to face with your jean skirt.

He pulls twice, asking permission. You place your hands on your button to undo it and Eddie playfully swats your hands away. Your skirt is pulled off your body, leaving the fishnet tights and your thoroughly soaked panties. He leans in between your thighs, and your thigh muscles slightly convulse as you feel his hot breath against it. “Shh, haven’t even touched you yet, baby.” He hushes you, his big hands gracing your thighs gently. He leans in and you can’t tell what he’s doing until he starts pulling down, and you notice one of the strings from the tights in his mouth. He can’t seem to pull them off like he wants to, and after a last try he gets frustrated, ripping them off, instead. “There, that’s fucking better.”

You let out a tiny giggle, and then you feel so exposed to him, your lacy panties drenched as he stares between your legs.

If you told yourself this would be happening 24 hours ago you’d call yourself insane…or a silly goose. You were incredibly inebriated.

He flings the fishnets across the room and reaches out to touch your soaked panties, the touch inducing a whimper from you. “You’re soaked, huh, baby?” He murmurs, petting along your panties gingerly. You whimper in response, your hips lifting to meet his delicate touch more firmly. He chuckles, watching your face all scrunched up. “If you want me to touch you, beg for it.”

“Eddie, fucking touch me please, want it so bad.”

“Yeah, you want me to fuck you with my fingers, baby?”

You nod, starting to hopelessly grind your hips up. “So fucking bad, please.”

He smiles, watching the outline of your pussy as you get wetter. Without warning, he hooks his fingers around your waist band and tugs it down, and suddenly you find yourself exposing your pussy to the man who took most of your gallery's storage space on your phone. The way he looks at your pussy is damn divine. His eyes darken with lust, pink lips shine with spit, and his cheeks flush; it makes you want to close your legs in embarrassment.

They stay open, because you’re afraid to move, this must be a dream. This is too fucking good to be real.

“Fuck, I knew your pussy would be pretty, but I didn’t know a pussy could be this fucking gorgeous, look at you.” He rambles, you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy. He places a thumb gently on your slick, stroking lightly up and down, the sensation sending fire rippling across your skin. He sees your thigh shake the littlest bit. “Feel good?”

It does, but you want so much more from him. “Mmm hmm.” You answer, toes flexing with anticipation.

“Do you need something?” He asks, stroking your lips too lightly, not necessarily getting closer to anything. He just narrowly avoids your clit, watching you squirm as your eyebrows furrow lightly.

“I need more-I need more.” You choke out, your hips desperately rutting against his fingers. “I want you to touch me harder, or move faster, I need more.”

Eddie chuckles, hardly believing how much better you had turned out to be. “You need more? Okay, sure. I can give more.” He leans in to lick a stripe right on your neglected clit, and your hips rut up in surprise, a yelp of pleasure jumping out of your throat. It doesn’t even phase Eddie, now that he's tasted you, he doesn’t want to let go. “How do you taste so fucking good?” He asks, his voice low and husky. “Doesn’t make any fucking sense, this should be a fucking crime.”

You moan, hips grinding up against him, head back in pure ecstasy. “Your sweat shouldn't taste so good. I could bottle it like ketchup and eat it on everything.” You admit, your fingers flexing as a wave of heat runs right through you.

Eddie barely lets up, even as the sentence makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. He pumps one of his digits into you, a ringed finger, no less. Your jaw drops as he fucks into you, the hot pool of pleasure in your stomach starting to form. It's the best this has ever felt by a long shot.

Eddie continues to attack you, adding a second finger as his tongue swirls over your clit repeatedly. “Eddie…fuck…so good.” You can barely talk, your bliss radiating in every extremity. “K…Keep doi’ tha’…”

He stares up at pride at your cocked out expression, panting heavily as you feel yourself on the brink. Out of nowhere Eddie picks up his speed into hyperdrive, and you fucking keel over him, high whines escaping your throat as one hand flies into his hair and the other on the couch’s arm rest to keep you grounded.

The orgasm hits you slowly but leaves your thighs shaking underneath him in its wake. It's the best goddamn orgasm you’ve ever had. Eddie continues to place kisses on your pussy, licking up your cum from your entrance, seemingly quite satisfied with his hard work.

You're breathing heavily, looking up at him desperately through half open eyes. “You have to let me suck your cock, please Ed.”

He gives you a half smirk, you’re barely recovered and you’re begging to suck his dick? Did he win the lottery? “No, I need to feel that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock before I cum from the sounds you’re making, alone.”

You lift your heavy head up in confusion. “Sounds?”

“Have you heard what you sound like when you cum? If I had the patience, I’d be making you cum here, all night, but I fucking don’t. I need to know what the fuck your pussy feels like.” Eddie admits, and his voice sounds desperate.

You let your head fall back down, your legs falling down in unison, spread eagle. You shoot a smirk at him. “What if I told you to beg for it?”

“Hmm?” Eddie asks, and you see a light flicker on in his eyes.

“Beg for my pussy, Eddie. Wanna hear that pretty voice.”

Eddie grins widely, fuck, you just keep getting better. “Please, baby. Please. Let me fuck that tight, perfect pussy of yours. Please let me feel those hot, warm walls fucking pulse around me while I give it to you hard and well, just like she deserves.”

It's more than you could ever hope for, but you find yourself feeling greedy. “Hmm…not desperate enough. You don’t really sound like you want to fuck me all that badly.”

To this Eddie actually whines and groans in frustration. “C’mon, baby, please. Let me fuck you, I will do anything to feel that perfect cunt around my cock.”

Your legs hitch around his hips, pulling him in so his hard on in his jeans meets your bare pussy. You lean into his ear, inhaling his shampoo. “If you let me mark up your neck so I can have all those petty bitches be jealous of me at your next show, then go right ahead.”

“Oh, fuck, deal.” Eddie yanks his belt and his jeans and underwear off in one fell swoop, and the sight of his cock is better than anything you could’ve imagined. He kicks them off smoothly, lining himself up with you again in a matter of minutes. “Shit, you want a condom?” He asks, used to fucking bare back.

“I’m on birth control.” You tell him as he hovers over you.

“Oh that’s a good girl.” He mutters, leaning in to kiss at your neck. “You ready?”

“Fuck me, already, Ed, I’ve been ready since this morning.” Eddie chuckles and he slides himself in, the head of his cock burning only slightly, but feeling fantastic. “Oh, oh my god.”

“Fuck…” He grunts, waiting for your go ahead. “Better than I thought you’d feel. God, is this heaven?”

You giggle in response, your pussy pulsating around him in beat. “Your cock…so fucking full.” Eddie lifts his hips experimentally, and you let out a gasp at the burn and the pure pleasure it sends through you. “More.” You choke out when he doesn’t continue right away.  

Eddie doesn’t hesitate to listen to your request, your arms wrapped around his back as you clutch onto him for dear life. He ruts into you harshly, his hips snapping as it hits your g spot intentionally at every rut.

Your mouth seems like it’s trying to form words, but your head is so foggy by the time you open your mouth, the sentence is nowhere to be found. “Look at this cock drunk little slut.” Eddie laughs, watching your fucked out face.

Your hands tug on him, forcing his chest closer to your mouth. He lets his arms buckle down, slowing his pace down as his face finds refuge in the smell of your hair, while you start sucking lightly on his chest, leaving little bite marks. As you suck on his chest, your pussy sucks him in simultaneously, causing Eddie to moan from both sensations you were giving him.

Eventually, you have purpled your way across his chest, admiring your hard work as he continues moving slowly over you. “Eddie, can you go faster again?”

“Sure, baby. Be a good girl and turn onto your hands and knees.” You listen and turn around, tilting your ass up so it’s easy for him to slide in. “Oh, thank you, baby. Now lift your head up.” You do and he yanks on your hair, pulling a good chunk at the root. “That’s good.” He puts himself back in you, causing a guttural moan to leave your lips.

“Eddie…” You gasp out, the first hit surprisingly harsh against your hips. Not a part of you remotely minds, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as Eddie seemingly fucks you as hard as he can.

“You wanna still blow me, baby? Because I’m about to blow…” Eddie doesn’t have to say another word, you getting up and onto your knees on his animal carpet to wrap your lips around his cock and bob your head. “Use that pretty mouth…”

The feeling of you choking on it, your mouth desperately trying to take his whole length sends him over the edge. Eddie moans loudly, and you do everything you can to memorize this moment for the rest of your life, because nothing will top this.

Your mouth is overloaded with his thick cum, and one last load shoots out of him onto your face as your mouth pops off him, and ok, now nothing will top this.

He’s breathing heavily, staring down at the white shiny substance that made it’s way all over your nose and lips, some dripping down your chin to land on your tits. You start to gather it on your fingers, dipping it onto your tongue like it’s donut frosting. You hum to yourself at the salty taste, looking up at him through your eyelashes for approval.

“Shit, ain’t that a sight.” Eddie mutters, watching as you hopelessly attempt to clean yourself up before his cum goes everywhere. “Here, hold on.” Eddie yanks on a pair of low sweats and grabs something, walking towards the sink in the dressing room. He walks up to you and cleans his mess off your face and your tits, his hands behind the warm cloth gentle. He tosses it to god knows where and grabs one of the waters from his mini fridge.

He hands you the water and watches you as you slowly come back to yourself, the haze in your eyes raising. Your phone buzzes on the table next to the couch, and Eddie picks up the phone to give it to you and you call out to stop him a moment too late.

Eddie raises his eyebrows at your choice of wallpaper, it couldn’t be interpreted as anything other than thirst. The sweat glistening, his hand holding the microphone delicately, his face looking rather passionate about what he was singing about. Damn, that's a good photo, Eddie thinks. “So, did I just check something off your bucket list?” He asks, holding your phone out before tossing it to you.

You get up from your knees on wobbly legs, still needing some water, apparently. “Uh,” you take a sip, wondering how to answer as a wide smile settles on your face. On the one hand, you’re embarrassed. On the other, he had to know how viscerally thirsty you were after him. “No. I just did my bucket list.” You answer, taking another sip of your water as you stand in front of him, still head to toe naked. “Didn’t think I’d get this far.”

Eddie laughs at this, the same genuine laughter you heard from earlier.

You walk around the couch, bending over to locate your skirt.

“Lookin' for something?” Eddie asks, playfully pushing your buttons.

“My skirt…” you answer, peering across the room at this point.

“Can I be honest?” He asks, peering over your shoulder comically as you look around.

“Hmm?”

Eddie’s hands land your bare hips, tugging them backward so his boner hits your ass. “I could go for round 2.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” You whisper, turning around to face him. Eddie guides you, your steps messy as you back up to his vanity, a few brushes and the eyeliner he sports scattered. He lifts you easily onto it, your legs wrapping around his torso, pulling him in. You can’t tell when he removed his sweats, but the head of his cock unexpectedly against your heat already pulls a high whine out of you, sighing in relief. “Put it back in.”

“Fuck, don’t need to ask me twice.” He mumbles, lining himself up.

Your jaw drops as he pushes himself in, watching with a heavy chest as Eddie stares down at the sight of his cock entering your slick, a gulp leaving his mouth. “Holy shit, baby.” He mutters, exhaling as he bottoms out, his eyes closing. “How have I already forgotten how good your pussy is around me?”

Your breathing is shallow, watching with heavy eyelids as Eddie closes his eyes to seemingly gain his composure. “Eddie.” You whimper, your legs around his torso tightening. “You’re the…the hottest person I’ve literally ever seen in my life. Nothing will compare to this.”

You can feel his cock twitch in response, and you flutter around him as if to second it.

“Good.” Eddie grunts out, moving ever so slowly, eliciting a whimper from you. “Nothing better fucking compare, your pussy is too good for that shit.” His tongue sweeps a long lick in the crook of your neck, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as it feels dirty, in the best way. “May I return the favour?”

You’re about to ask when you realize his question is rhetorical, and you feel his teeth start to nibble, bite, and suck hard at your throat. He feels you suck him in as you breathe out little whimpers, the relief of his tongue against your skin followed by more stinging of his teeth working on you was everything, your nails scratching down his back in an involuntary response.

“Eddie…” you moan, head tilted back in ecstasy, nearly colliding with his mirror. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Baby, fuck.” He mutters, his breath hot against your neck. “I wanna mark you up everywhere.” You fucking tighten up in response, drawing a nearly cruel laugh from him. “Yeah? You like that?”

“Uh huh…” You admit, the feeling of his hips slowly drawing in and out of you and his hot breath on your chest becoming too much, but perfect at the same time.

His tongue makes its way further down to your tit, one hand rubbing your sternum desperately as his teeth work expertly on your bud. He’s not too harsh with it, knows the exact amount of pressure to make it hurt in the best fucking way. “So fucking pretty, baby.” He mutters, his hips starting at a faster rate. He lets off your tit with a pop after sucking on it gently, admiring the bruising that’s starting to take shape across your sweaty form.

You can do nothing but cling to him, all coherent thoughts gone the moment he started sucking on your collarbone sharply.

“Got any…any summer plans?” Eddie asks, out of breath. He moves a leg over his shoulder to get a better angle, deeper than before.

You let out a gasp of pleasure, the sound nearly feral. “Y-you.”

Eddie laughs, his ringed hand rough as he grabs at your thigh on his chest. “Oh fuck baby, I’m close again, your pussy is so fucking good.”

“Cum in me.” It almost sounds like you're begging. 

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up to his forehead, his jaw dropping comically as he takes in your request. “Fuck, you sure?”

“Want you to fill me up, Eddie. Please.” You plead, and who is he to deny such a pretty girl?

“Gonna cum with me, pretty girl?” He asks, watching in marvel as you look more and more cocked out. You pull on him, yanking his lips to yours. You kiss him wantonly, deeply, all teeth and tongue as you do your best to express what you cannot with words. You don’t have a big enough vocabulary for the moment, anyhow. Eddie takes the lead and tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, drawing a high whine out of you. “Gonna answer me?”

The edge is so close, an all encompassing heat invading your lower stomach as a palm of his hand toys with one of your nipples. Suddenly you’re aware this could be the last time you ever get the chance, so you sweep one last lick on his chest, lapping at the fresh coat of sweat like it was your first drink of water after a long week in the desert.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna—” He doesn’t even finish his sentence, his hips stuttering as you feel his sticky ropes of cum fill you up so deliciously.

In his haze, his fingers latch to your clit, expertly working on it in small circles to send you over your edge as well, your pussy fluttering perfectly around him.

The smell of sex in his dressing room is evident, the air thick as you both catch your breath. Your leg falls down off his shoulder like a weight is stored in it, your foot landing harshly on the linoleum tiles of the stadium. Your head rests against his chest, eyes closed as you breathe in the stench of his sweat. You need to memorize everything you can, sure you’re about to be escorted back to the main party.

Eddie surprises you, his hands soft as they cup your face, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. His mouth is gentle as he works it against yours, the light taste of pre-show alcohol on his breath. He methodically uses the kiss to distract you as he pulls out, but you still whine desperately into his mouth from the loss. A laugh escapes his lips, and you swallow it, still needing his gentle kiss. He finally separates from you, kissing your forehead as his thumb caresses your cheek.

“So…are you?” He asks, taking in your fucked-out face. Maybe you’ll let him take a post sex selfie if you reject him to remember you by.

If. There’s no way on this earth you would ever reject him, but of course, Eddie doesn’t know you’ve been stalking his Instagram.

“Hmm?” You ask, not a thought in your head for the moment.

“Doing anything this summer?”

You shake your head no, gulping. Eddie saunters around his dressing room, grabbing his sweats and another white cloth. He returns to situate himself between your legs, sporting his sweats, the hot cloth causing you to yelp in surprise.

He laughs quietly, a fond smile on his face as he continues to clean up the mess he left in you. At least, you think it’s fond. “You feel like following a ragtag band of misfits around for the summer?” He asks you, voice soft as he holds your eye contact while his hand moves idly.

“Ragtag?” You ask, remembering their electric energy. They’re rockstars, no doubt about it. There’s not one person who can deny that they earned their spot on the stage.

Eddie breathes another laugh, tossing his cloth to the side. “We are as ragtag as it gets, doll.”

You sigh, searching those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes for any signs he was joking. “I-I will quit my job…are you serious?”

He laughs, caressing your forearm. It occurs to him you’re still naked, so he walks to the couch to gather your shirt and skirt. “Dead serious. I can’t let a face like yours and a pussy like that go very easily.”

“Okay…” you answer, your heartbeat loud in your chest. You were so sure this was just a one-time (two rounds) thing that the idea of him wanting more of you never even occurred to you. It’s just too good to be true, no one is this lucky. “If I quit my job, I can’t afford to pay my own way…”

Eddie smiles, handing you your clothes. “If you don’t want to wear that skirt, I can get you some sweats from the merch table.” He offers, before sitting on the chair a few feet down from you. “Baby, I’m on the cover of Rolling Stone. You’ll be fine.”

Your jaw drops open, staring openly at the man as he watches your facial expression. “I’ll need to go and pack up…”

“Babe.” He stops you, getting up to hold your shoulders with his hands. “I don’t even know your name, yet.”

“Y/N”

He lets out an exhale, fuck, that makes sense. “I didn’t even know your name, and all I know is if I let you go then I will never be able to get you out of my mind. Whatever is stopping you, I can throw some money at it or call someone to get it done. Do you want to stay with me?”

“Yes.” It leaves your body in a sigh of relief, like coming home. Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead; you can feel his lips moving upward into a smile. “Also, sweatpants sound really nice.”

Eddie saunters over to a walkie you hadn’t noticed. In fact, you start to look around his dressing room, noticing a duffle bag by a rack with empty hangers, half opened bottles of water, and his phone sitting faced down at a table nearby. When he asks for your size, you provide it, putting the graphic tee over your head. He plops down on the couch, waving you over to sit right next to him. “Need to text your friend?” He asks, teasing you.

“Actually, can I invite her in? Natalie’s my best friend and she won’t let me live this down if I send her back without bringing her in to introduce you.”

Eddie shrugs, starting to pat his pockets for his phone. You grab it on your way to sit next to him, falling easily into his arm. “Yeah, sure, if you’re ready for her to tease the shit out of you.”

“Are you kidding?” You ask, somewhat giddy. “I’m about to go on twitter after your next show and see dozens of people asking where the hell you got your hickeys. Nothing can bring me down from that right now.”

Eddie chuckles, crossing one leg over the other in an L shape. He plants a kiss on your lips, his tongue sweeping against yours delicately. “Fuck, I’m so glad you fucking DM’ed me.” There’s a knock on the door, your sweatpants from the merch stand are delivered.

“You have no idea how much I keep thinking I’m about to wake up.” You confess, your fingers playing with the light stubble on his chin. “Thank god for cheap stadium beer.” The laugh that escapes him is melodic and gorgeous. “Thank god for cheap stadium beer.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read comments and replies and tags and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken

[aeolianblues]

I saw this company that sells like Bluetooth vibrating air drums or whatever you want to call them, and it’s so obvious what their purpose is that it makes me really sad. We went from drum kits to those black/deadened practice kits for practising at home, to eventually having people in rented accommodation being so worried about noise complaints and/or losing their place of living that they’ve had to create drum-less drums. 100% the reason for this is not wanting to get evicted. Living in matchbox houses with paper thin walls of cheap and in-no-way soundproof material, packed so close you’re a stone’s throw from your neighbours, you’ve silenced the drumkit entirely.

Is it any surprise then that people aren’t forming bands? Is it a surprise that artists moved from bands rehearsing in basements and garages in houses, to samples, electronic drumkits, midi, solo ‘bedroom’ stuff, even as we lose more and more rehearsal spaces, and schools stop offering kids musical lessons because they must be inferior to subjects that lead to a job in IT or finance? We lose youth centres, community spaces, musical spaces, and everyone’s world gets a little quieter.

Gentrification. People move into the ‘fun’ parts of town and then file complaints against all the ‘fun’ stuff. Bye bye La Tulipe, they gave a developer a building permit in the fucking downtown culture and entertainment district and now the residents are filing complaints. City councils are so afraid of the word 'rave', they don't know what it means but they think it means 'illicit drugs-taking event' and want to ban any instance of it. The raves move out of the city, to a little space under the national highway, or leave the city entirely.

I wanted to take a walking tour of historically important music sites in London, such as important venues, clubs, studios, the Blitz where the New Romantic kids first congregated for their David Bowie nights, the café where all the musicians including the Beatles would go down to to meet people when they decided the only way to make it in the music industry was to move to London. 3/4 of that tour involved looking for ghosts: empty spaces, corporate offices and residence buildings sitting on the burial grounds of moments of cultural significance. I didn’t do the tour, I don’t think I could bear to look at these places, to try and imagine what they once were and what their neighbours were.

It’s the same with these drums too. I know the makers only want to do good, bless them for that, and I don’t doubt a lot of people will find this a better practice solution than midi because it still sort of has that unquantised feel of a real person hitting sticks— although I suppose if you really think about it, it still is just a midi controller but with a vibrating haptic response. Next you’ll say drums can be done on AR or VR I suppose. It will still make me sad.

It saddens me that we lose so much of the spirit of art and culture to dilution. People trying to make the music quieter so as to not offend the neighbours, even as their spaces get slowly choked out. Writers being unable (/less freely able) to explore darker themes so as to not set the dogs of the ‘problematic writing police’ on them. Artists presenting as less dramatic so as to not appear ‘weird’ to an uninvested audience; TikTok’s obsession with their straitjacketed definition of ‘authenticity’. Making fun of anyone who dares to dress weird, look different, say something new. I see it everywhere. Art gets diluted to become palatable, and in doing so it loses its ability to express itself and say something that needs to be said.

I don’t know. Some could look at it as the weird, twisted, fucked up plant growing through cracks in the pavement, doing what it can to reach the sunlight. Art surviving despite everything, somehow being more poignant and having more important things to say as a result.

But even a 22h candle has an end. We’ve got to do more to protect our artistic spaces and outlets, and the ability to create without fear, or ae risk losing it forever. It takes just one generation to train out habits; we see it with other obsolete things, let’s not let art be one of those.

[vctrvn-ls]

Hellooo, could you write a '3am though ' about the Boys being clingy? Cause I feel like everyone is clingy in a different way hehe

Types of Clingy | Beta Squad |

Chunkz

His clingyness would show through being a little too co-dependent. I’m not saying he wouldn’t be able to make independent decisions at all, but most of the time he would definitely want your opinion…on pretty much like everything. New shoes, place to stay while on a work trip, where to eat, how to dress for the weather and on and on. Sometimes it’s nice to know that someone wants to hear your point of view, but other times it could be very very annoying.

Sharky

Sharky’s thing is definitely constantly texting or like somehow communicating through his phone 24/7. Doesn’t matter if you’re calling, chatting or just sending each other goofy snaps, he needs to constantly talk. He’d always send “update” messages out of nowhere, like imagine he decided to go to the store to buy some fruits and he’s in line, waiting and bored and suddenly some drama happens between a customer and the worker. He’d whip out his phone in a fraction of a second and begin describing the entire situation to you. Most of the time you don’t mind it, the opposite, you actually like it, but sometimes Sharky can get a little persistent and if you don’t reply while he’s currently bored, he’s going to spam your phone, asking where are you and “why are you ignoring me?”

Niko

Time is money to this man. Quality time is gold and Niko definitely wants it. He’s a busy man himself but if he finds out you have even a small 20 minute break from anything, you best be ready for him to appear and persuade you to do something together. Maybe you’re at work and you’re having lunch, in which case he’d offer to drive you to the nearest coffee shop, maybe you’re at uni and you have a free period during which he’ll sneak you out to have some ice cream. And when he’s done with work for the day, the first thing he’s doing is calling you and saying that he’s finally free from whatever, after which he would definitely suggest going somewhere, no matter how tired he was.

AJ

“Lisa are you dumb? AJ hates human contact, he said so himself like 100 times! You’re not telling me he’d be the physically clingy one!”

Hahahah - is my response guys. AJ. Would be. Possessive. (as fuck) Okay yes he hates it when people touch him BUT YOU AREN’T JUST PEOPLE! He wants you to constantly hold his hand or arm, he needs it. And for him it would be a totally normal thing to have his arm around your waist at all times when going out. He wants people to know that you’re with him, that you’re his and that nothing is getting in between the two of you. Doesn’t matter where: party, grocery store, at a fucking dentist appointment, this guy couldn’t care less, just as long as he’s somehow holding onto you or you’re holding onto him.

Kenny

This one a bit sad. I think Kenny would be a little insecure. Like ok we know he’s the sexiest man alive but in his eyes he’s still not good enough for you. And that’s exactly what gnaws at him. Sometimes arguments would spur between the two of you out of nothing. Imagine you went out and didn’t tell Kenny, just forgot to mention or you were in a hurry. When you finally come back home he’d be like “where have you been?” , “why didn’t you tell me you were going out?” , “who’d you go out with?” , but it wouldn’t be in a controlling sense, you get me? Like he’d be worried, paranoid even and to you sometimes it would seem stupid. Like you shouldn’t be constantly explaining things to him. But no matter how mad or pissed you wanna be at him, you can’t. Why? Cause it’s Kenny and Kenny is 🔛🔝 of everything <3

[nhularin]

1 STEP FORWARD, 3 STEPS BACK

PAIRING bf! jay x reader GENRE toxic! relationship, angst no comfort WARNINGS insecurities,there might be some grammar mistakes WC 0.9k series masterlist

December 12, 2001

"so, how was your day?"

you looked at him, your voice soft as you asked. you and your boyfriend sat in his car, the air thick with tension. but jays response was anything but kind. his eyes narrowed as he looked straight ahead of the road, his voice filled with bitterness. "fine" he spit out and silence fell upon you once again

no, it's back and forth, did I say something wrong?

the tone of his voice made you recoil, your heart sinking. it was a typical thursday night and you haven't seen each other outside of school in what felt like forever. you had only wanted to check up on him, to show him that you cared about his well being. but his words sliced through you like a dagger, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

"thats great!" you tried to sound cheerful, but your voice betrayed you when those words came out quieter and wobblier than expected. you looked outside of the passenger seat's window, attempting to ignore the unbearable silence in the car. you could hear the joy and euphoria from passing cars and you couldn't help but feel jealousy radiating through you

All I did was speak normally, somehow I still struck a nerve

"why are you always so sensitive?" jay continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "you make everything about yourself. cant you see that I have my own problems to deal with?"

jay could feel your discomfort, he had to. hell, the passing cars could probably feel it "dont be like this" he said, sighing heavily "why do you always ask me that? you saw me at school. did you see me crying? no. so dont ask obvious shit when you already know the answer."

your eyes welled up with tears, voice trembling. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I just-" you paused, feeling your throat close up "we haven't hung out in a while and i just wanted to make sure that you were fine"

jay scoffed, his anger intensifying. "you think you can solve all my problems with a simple question? youre so naive. you don't understand anything. fine, coach Madson was a fucking asshole today but i knew you wouldn't understand. isnt a simple 'fine' enough? all you know is how to break out in song and dance with your theater friends"

im the love of your life until I make you mad

your heart shattered as his words echoed in your mind. you had hoped for a moment of connection, a chance to offer support. but instead, you found yourself facing his anger, his frustration, and his complete lack of empathy.

you longed for affection, for those sweet words of love to fall from his lips. but instead, you were met with a wall of unpredictability. one moment, he would hold your hand and make you feel like the most special person in the world. the next, he would push you away, leaving you wondering where you went wrong.

every little thing you did seemed to set him off, like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. his anger was swift and cutting, leaving you feeling small and insignificant. it was a rollercoaster of emotions, and you couldn't help but question if he truly loved you.

jays grip on the wheel tightened even further as you reached a familiar intersection. the red light seemed to mock your mess of a relationship, the halted traffic mirroring your damaged connection.

as the light turned green, he pressed down on the gas pedal, your heart pounding heavily in your chest. the car lurched forward, the engine roaring, but the noise was nothing compared to the deafening silence between you two. the streets blurred as you sped through the night.

in that moment, you realized that jay wasn't capable of providing the love and understanding you have craved. he was a storm of emotions and absolutely unpredictable, lashing out at anyone who dared to get close.

on your late night drives, you would often find yourself bracing for impact. would jay walk you home, or would he send you home crying again? it was a cruel game of chance, and you were trapped in its endless cycle.

"look" he sighed "im sorry for lashing out, im just stressed with-" he paused longer than expected "practice, AP calc, everything, okay? its nothing personal"

his apology didnt change the storm of emotions forming inside you but you tried to tame it as best as possible, trying to look unbothered by his constant outbursts of hatred.

when did it all go wrong? you have known him since forever, his toothy grin and messed up bangs permanently engraved in your head. you managed to form an awkward smile "its okay" its always okay, as long as you were with him

do you love me, want me, hate me?

finally, you arrived at your house, and jay pulled over. the quiet and calm suburb contrasting the chaos in your head. the car idled, the engine still rumbling.

there was a moment of silence, a moment where the weight of your emotions hung in the air. and then, without another word, jay reached over and opened the car door. his gesture made you feel giddy and hope filled your heart. as you stepped out, you gave him your biggest smile

"ill see you tomorrow, text me, okay? i love you"

he didnt say it back nor did he message you that night

no, I don't understand

PERM TAGLIST @misokei @avocarua @sngvhs @essmarye @haechansbbg

SERIES' MASTERLIST @flwerfield @hyhees @mrchweeee @j1nniee @mikaluvsyouu @delulu4-life @mora134340 @beomsbeanie @leep0ems @cIphantom-hive @yla-aira @filmofhybe @nishik1

[satuguro]

⠀ཾ ༚ MORE FUN WITH THREE!

chad meeks martin x ethan landry x reader

#SYNOPSIS— nsfw/sfw head canons about dating ethan and chad <3

#CONTAINS— (sfw) domesticity!!, slight angst, comfort, overall fluff ; (nsfw) daddy/mommy kink, degradation, praise, and a lot more but those are the mains!

#AUTHORSNOTE— there isn’t enough domestic chad/ethan/reader stuff so i wrote this xx

#SFW

— you guys pined for each other for a while until any of you made a move. lots of longing looks and deep talk nights and sleepovers that felt more intimate than ‘just friend’ activities.

— but surprisingly, it was ethan who confessed first. the three of you were sharing a blunt around a pool during a party, and he suddenly started rambling about how much he liked you both romatically.

“it’s just like,” ethan breathes, leaning his head on your shoulder and absentmindedly fidgeting with chad’s fingers. “i talk a lot, right? i ramble and i talk and can’t ever seem to shut up— at least i’m self aware, y/n! —but when i look at the two of you.. it’s like my words just can’t come out. and i become quiet because i don’t know how you two exist.”

— ever since that night, you guys began dating!

— now this is not gonna be one of those head-cannons about how everything went smoothly because trust me it didn’t for a while.

— it was really up and down for the first year. chad has a bad habit of being jealous, which is nice if he wasn’t so in denial when you or ethan point it out.

— ethan has a tendency to space out/disassociate when things get too stressful (a result of his history with his family), which takes a lot of work and patience to work through. thankfully, you and chad have all the patience in the world for him.

— and you wouldn’t open up to them for a while, oftentimes running how you really felt and the bad parts of your past through a filter to make it seem not as bad (even though chad and ethan could read you like a book).

— there’s a lot more, but i will say that i don’t think ethan or chad is the type to really raise their voice during an argument. disagreements are resolved through firm talking between the three of you, and even when someone wants to scream or yell at the other person, they know that you all hate the sound of angry yelling, so you find others ways to cool off.

— anyways! you guys moved in together a year and a half into your relationship.

— chad’s the clean one and ethan’s the messy one (mainly bc he gets distracted by other stuff and forgets ro clean up after himself).

— both boys love sitting/joining you when you’re doing your hobbies. sometimes they even wanna learn from you! chad is a very quick learner while ethan is very eager to learn

— movie nights, video game nights, study nights, etc. are a very common thing bc all of you procrastinate college shit (except for chad, who is somehow more on top of it than you and ethan).

— chad can cook, ethan can bake, and you can do both! so meals are usually made by you and chad while ethan makes dessert.

— ethan also stress bakes.

the lack of a third body in your bed made you sit up groggily from your bed. “chad? chad,” you mumbled, shaking chad’s shoulder next to you, making him grumble a weak response. “where’s ethan?”

and as the two of you walked out, you still wrapped in your comforter, you were shocked to find your boyfriend making his third batch of cake pops over the counter. his hair was tousled and eye bags hung under his brown eyes, but ethan looked more awake than ever. his spider-man shirt was stained with flour and his pajama pants hung loosely around his waist. “ethan,” chad said with a sigh, “babes, it’s 3 am.”

“yeah but,” ethan began, whisking from frosting. “i have an exam in like two days and i needed to relax so i’m baking!”

“ethan, baby, come back to bed.”

— chad and ethan are sore losers!! every time the three of you play video games and you win they both sulk for like 10 minutes. but if you lose and one of them wins, they’re so cocky and they’re teasing you about it (assholes).

"guys, please talk to me," you said, watching as ethan stubbornly sat next to chad on the other side of the couch, pulling the blanket tight over the both of them and not around you."

"no," chad stated, putting an arm over ethan's shoulders and pulling him close. "this is what happens when you cheat at mario kart."

you huffed in annoyance before standing up, grabbing the blanket and forcing yourself in with them, ignoring their protests.

"y/n, you already won!" ethan groaned, still making room for you regardless of how much of a sore loser he was.

— you guys sleep on a king bed in a shared room and take turns being in the middle. usually chad likes being in the middle because that means he gets to feel both you and ethan sleeping on his chest.

— chad sleeps earlier than the both of you so sometimes he has to listen to you and ethan talk about basically nothing 30 minutes before going to bed.

“yeah, sex is great, but have you ever yawned so hard you felt tears?” ethan said, his face turned to yours as the three of you laid in bed.

chad heard you chuckle softly before saying, “it’s kind of like stretching so hard you cough. wait— does that mean you’d rather yawn with tears over having sex with us?”

“what? no!”

— sometimes when one of you is coming home late, you have nights with only one of them.

— when ethan is coming home late, you and chad both prepare a meal together. light music is playing in the background while you both prepare three plates (another for ethan when he gets home). chad has a habit of wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his head on your shoulder while you cook. then after dinner you both watch a horror movie with popcorn (chad knows all the best horror movies thanks to mindy.) and take a shower together.

— when chad is coming home late, ethan helps you make dinner (he just chops vegetables and sometimes meat. poor boy can’t cook) and is constantly snacking on the food before it’s even prepared. you both save chad a plate before having a little ‘spa day.’ you both take a bath and put on face masks and (mildly) catch each other up on gossip.

— when you’re coming home late, either chad makes dinner and ethan helps or he does the work and ethan sits on the counter and tells him about all the drama (chad likes to say he doesn’t like listening, but you and ethan know he does). sometimes ethan makes him do a face mask with him and then they go play video games for the rest of the night until you come home.

— your apartment has a loveseat on the side that you all like to cuddle on while your friends are over.

— folding clothes together in the living room while watching shows like bob’s burgers.

— you guys definitely have a cat that’s named ‘kelp’ or something weird like that. when you first got the cat chad was def a little disappointed (he wanted a dog) but now he’s your cat’s favorite (much to you and ethan’s chagrin).

— whenever you say ‘i love you,’ there’s always two responses of ‘i love you more,’ back. and that phrase is something really important to the three of you.

— you like to say it during the times when you really mean it. you always love them, but there’s random times where you’re just watching them talk to each other at the dinner table and you’ll just say ‘i love you,’ because how nice is it that you can always have dinner with them?

— ethan incorporates it into his daily phrases, stuff like, “i’m gonna go now, i love you!” and “good night, i love you.” he also says it a lot while he’s drunk (he’s a sucker for you and chad, what can he say).

— chad says it during random times. sometimes he’ll just walk by you or ethan in the kitchen, pressing brief kisses to your shoulders and murmuring, “i love you.” or he’ll taste something you or ethan made and say, “oh my god, i love you. this is incredible.”

— ethan talks a lot and you and chad listen.

— sometimes chad and ethan both ramble to you about something that you know nothing about but do you care? no, because you do the exact same thing and they are always so interested

— chad and ethan go on gym dates and chad always makes ethan his pre workout for him in the morning before they leave <3

— you guys also have a shared groupchat! ethan uses it to send photos throughout his day of random things with cute little comments like ‘look at this dog i saw ◡̈’ or ‘i ordered what y/n usually gets at starbucks! i think it’s actually pretty good!’

—you use it to send photos of when you see him or chad across campus. honestly you do it cause you think it’s funny how most of the photos you take look like they’re from a stalker.

— chad uses it to send photos of the sky whenever he thinks it’s pretty (because it reminds him of the both of you). he also uses it to get yours or ethan’s opinion on something, whether it’s clothes, what he’s buying from the store, etc.

— whenever one of you is stressed/sad you have two people giving you comfort immediately. of course chad is always the one who asks, “do you want comfort or advice?” just because he wants to make sure he’s doing the right thing. but regardless the three of you have learned how to take care of each other.

#NSFW

— there was definitely a moment before you all began dating where ethan said, “wait, does that mean i’m gonna die a virgin?” and you and chad caught each other staring at ethan as though you were willing to change that for him.

chad noticed you stare at ethan, eyes set on him as though you were weighing the consequences of fucking your best friend in your head (not that chad could say anything; he was doing the same thing). your eyes noticed chad’s look, making you raise a brow at him.

“what’re you looking at, chad?”

“what’re you looking at, y/n?”

— ethan has the biggest sex drive out of the three of you. he was really inexperienced when you all started dating but after you and chad taught him the ropes he’s literally always horny.

— chad definitely prefers to be in charge in the bedroom (daddy kink for the win) but he’s actually a switch. you and ethan are only people he’s ever been submissive for.

— you’re a switch for the most part, but you do enjoy domming both chad and ethan (because who wouldn’t?) especially when they both start teasing you out in public/throughout the day (which happens a lot).

— ethan’s definitely a switch but he does prefer to be submissive to you and chad because he has a raging daddy/mommy kink oops

— you and ethan are pretty vocal in bed, but chad isn’t. a lot of the noises he makes is groans and dirty talk (which is literally filthy).

— but one time you and ethan were teasing him and chad let out a whine. when i tell you the tables changed so quickly..

— chad also does this lazy smile/smirk when one of you is riding him/sucking him off that makes him look so cocky and he knows it.

— chad’s cockiness also def shows through in his degradation/praise.

“that’s it, suck my cock,” chad murmured, one of his arms behind his head as ethan took his cock into his mouth. you were right next to him, licking at chad’s balls as ethan began bobbing his head. the poor boy was a mess of saliva and tears dripping down his chin, his head of curls gripped tightly by chad as his hips thrusted his fat cock deeper into ethan’s mouth.

a needy whine left your lips as ethan pulled off of chad’s cock, gasping in a breath before continuing to stroke it in his hands. then you both leaned in, eyes set on chad and the lazy smile on his face, before your tongues met at chad’s tip. with his tip in between your mouths, you and ethan made out with each other, whimpers and low moans falling from your mouths. licking into ethan’s mouth and tonguing at chad’s fat tip, you moaned at the sloppiness of it all, feeling yours and ethan’s saliva drip down your chins.

the lewd sight alone made chad moan, head falling back briefly. “god, you’re both so needy. you love sucking my dick that much that you both wanna share?”

“mm.. yes daddy.”

— sex is serious for the most part but sleepy sex/morning sex is always so giggly for you guys. especially when ethan and chad want to eat you out together.

“chad— dude, you gotta move to the side,” ethan groaned, trying to move himself next to the taller man. your legs were spread wide, both of them held open by chad’s hand and ethan’s, and feeling their two eyes on you, you suddenly felt exposed.

“how do we—” chad began leaning his head in at the same time as ethan’s and bumping their heads, making them both laugh. carding your hands through their hair, you couldn’t help but giggle before it turned into a moan.

chad and ethan’s tongue met in the middle as they spread your legs wider. leaning over, chad went to suck on your clit while ethan leaned down to fuck your sopping hole with his tongue, making your back arch. “there you go,” chad murmured, breath fanning over your cunt as he massages the inside of your thighs.

“mm, you taste so good, y/n,” ethan said, eyes hazy as he slipped a finger into you.

— sometimes ethan wakes the both of you up by giving you both head. he gets really needy! and if you wake up before him that’s how you wake chad up

— you love teasing them. sometimes you grind your ass against them a little too much while passing by them in the kitchen or you wear shorts around the apartment that you know chad loves, along with a tank top without a bra (so ethan’s practically drooling at your breasts)

— it usually ends with them being in charge that night. especially if your little teasing game goes on for the entire day and you pretend you know nothing about it; both of them want to punish you <3

“fuck— daddy, ‘m close,” ethan whined, throwing his head back as his cock slipped into your lips again. you peered up at him through heavy lashes, his length stifling your whimpers as chad’s cock sank deeper inside of you.

“go ahead, baby boy. cum all over y/n’s face,” chad said with a groan, watching shamelessly as your cunt took every inch of his thick cock. “fuck, you really love taking dick, huh?” he said with a breathless laugh, thrusting his hips into you harshly and reveling in the cry you let out. “too bad you won’t get to cum just yet. not until we’re finished.”

ethan let out a whine as he came all over your face, eyes set on how your tongue stuck out for him and the way it caught only some of his cum. the rest painted your face so beautifully that ethan couldn’t help but grab some with his thumb and put it into your mouth. obediently, your lips wrapped around his thumb and sucked off the rest of the cum.

— sorry not sorry ethan loves his ass ate idc. he becomes such a slit the second he feels you or chad’s tongue on his hole, arching his back and babbling, “mommy/daddy, more. please— oh fuck me.”

— chad also has an obsession with eating you out. when i tell you that man knows how to eat pussy i mean it. sit on his face, suffocate him— he wants it all as long as he’s between your thighs.

— that being said he also loves eating ethan out. primarily because ethan ends up crying and he’s just so pretty when he cries.

— chad’s sadistic/masochistic (he’s def a service top) and ethan’s the same way. but ethan’s sadism and masochism can go extreme; he loves denying you and chad of your orgasms over and over, but if you were to deny him of his over and over he’d love it more.

— chad sometimes just leans back and lets you and ethan do whatever you want to him. you could use his dick like a toy and ethan could ride his face and chad could die a happy man right there, knowing that he’s pleasuring the both of you.

— ethan has an oral fixation to the max. he always needs something in his mouth, whether it’s your tits, yours or chad’s fingers, chad’s cock, or your pussy, he just loves having his mouth full.

— whenever you’re domming, ethan is always so good while chad is nothing but a brat. but there are some rare occasions when ethan is being bratty and you and chad have to punish him.

“daddy— daddy slow down—!” ethan cried out, his hips automatically snapping against you as a result of chad’s pounding. he was crying at this point, fat tears streaming down his cheeks as he was stuck between chad’s thick cock and your tight pussy. his own cock was so hard, but the cock ring around it made it impossible for him to fuck a load into you. not that you or chad seemed to care.

“you wanted to act like such a brat earlier, ethan,” you said with faux pity, teeth digging into your bottom lip as ethan’s cock thrusted inside of you repeatedly.

“which means,” chad said, slapping ethan���s ass and making the boy moan, “you can’t give us fucking orders.” he thrusted deeper into his boyfriend, listening to the ‘uh, uh, uhs’ ethan let out as his cock fucked him harder.

“i wanna cum,” ethan sniffled, ignoring your scolding as he took your hips and thrusted into you, making your head fall back as you moaned deliciously. “daddy, p—please— mm, mm— let me cum, mommy.”

chad only chuckled darkly at that, letting out a low moan as he came inside ethan’s ass, filling him with cum— his first load of the night. “brats don’t get to cum.”

— i will say this rn; the aftercare is soso good.

— chad basically has all of your needs memorized by heart. bath? he already had it ready. food? there’s snacks on the bedside table. alone time? the guest room has its bed made and the t.v on. cuddles? of course, just let him clean you up and get you some water. don’t wanna get up? good, chad would rather you lay there while he gets everything ready.

— it kind of goes for all of you as well. you and chad are usually giving the aftercare while ethan’s receiving. but ethan knows the aftercare you both need too!

— especially after pretty hard scenes, ethan knows to reassure you both that he’s okay. it doesn’t happen often, but when you and chad feel horrible for talking to ethan in such a way, he goes out of his way to take care of you just like you both take care of him <3