#this is about as sweet a line as he could give anybody.
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elvisqueso · 6 months ago
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why do
why do some of you think em was taking a shot at megan thee stallion
that was clearly a shout out. that was props. he literally said "would i still be able to get a feature with someone big as megan at this point?" how is that a shot?
i am. genuinely baffled.
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timkontheunsure · 25 days ago
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What Blitz regrets
Interestingly most of Blitz's memories are more accurate with people's expressions than Stolas' in all 2 u.
Here's how he remembers the fire.
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He see the imp lady and Cash bookit passed him. Then the pink horse cuts across him.
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Then him seeing Fizz and trying to direct help to him.
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Next is him trying to get to his Muma
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Then we get the aftermath of the fire. (Screaming face made of flame).
Cash grabbing Blitz by his freshly buried wrist to hold him in place to hit him. Immediately blaming him for an accident. His mom just died and his dad did this.
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Then blocking access to Fizz, shoving Blitz away. Before lying that he never visited, and that Blitz deliberately set the fire, isolating and scapegoating Blitz.
Moving on to Ozzie's which is large part of his film of his regrets and envys.
Fizz hating him on sight.
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And Verosika too.
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oh but he missed Stolas getting up to try to defend him from her.
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Blitz also focuses on his putting his hand away from Stolas trying to comfort him
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Though you can see Stolas miss reads his expression right before. When Ozzie showed his daughter hating him, and had people side with his abuser because she was 'cheated on'.
Stolas being sad when the only thing they have is Stolas wanting to fuck him.
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They are both forced on this bit. That they don't have a relationship where they talk and cuddle, because it wasn't a real date. He made sure of that.
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(never say never Mr too much Imp to simp)
Stolas giving him the crystal and asking him to stay. Definitely shows the crystal is huge sore point for him.
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Stolas was more focused on how surprised Blitz was.
Stolas walking away from him as Blitz yells that he'll apologise to everyone else. But never him. If he hadn't said the previous 'fuck you' making Stolas think he gave him a fake reason for blowing up at him, Stolas would have understood.
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Stolas singing the line "I don't think you ment to hurt me, because I don't think it meant a thing at all to you"
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Oof that must have hurt.
"This whole thing we had going... I'm- I mean you're a fucking prince. How could you ever actually care for an imp... Me? How could anybody". Oh he regrets not believing Stolas cared for him.
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And regrets missing his chance to comfort Stolas. (Blitz failed a QTE).
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But ok big big difference here! Blitz has definitely misunderstood. Stolas' isn't crying.
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He's edited out what a mess Stolas was here. Like he's forgotten how drunk he was..
And Stolas kissing the twunk is a perfect match... Oh that got seared into his brain didn't it.
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Pure envy
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Blitz so badly want that kind of romantic relationship
Barbie telling him he's ruined her life, and she never wants to see him again. (Just going to sob in a corner here).
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And Loona. Both times are fights about being really family.
Loona: Oh, what does it matter?! You're not my real dad! I was almost eighteen!
Blitzo: It still counts!
Loona: Well, it shouldn't! I didn't need you then, asshole! I don't, now
Blitz needs to be needed by the people he loves. Otherwise he thinks they're leave him
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Blitzo: Oh, Loona, my sweet baby girl! I'm so sorry, I'll never replace you no matter what you--
Looks like he still worried that she hasn't really forgiven him for saying he's replace her.
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Blitz isn't just talking about Stolas here. He thinks if he's bankrupted IMP Milli, Moxxie and Loona will all leave him too. Spirals to rock bottom in this one.
So glad Millie could help pull him out.
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luveline · 5 months ago
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jade i was wondering if i could request smth where steve and his gf are out and he leaves really quick to go do something and when he comes back he see his girl crying, so he gets all worried and protective, but later realizes she’s crying happy tears?
i hope that made some sense. tysm!! i LOVE your writing
“You’re not close enough,” Steve says. He’s annoyed, just a smidge, but nothing with malice as he wraps his arm around you to tug you into frame. “I’ve only got so many.” 
“Stop complaining,” you say, shuffling as flush to his side as you can be. 
Steve smells like heaven. He has nice arms, a better smile, and he’s pressing a grin to your cheek as he turns the camera to take your photo. It’s hard to do it back to front, but nobody’s around to take the photograph for you. 
It flashes. The Polaroid pops out with a chug, though the picture has yet to develop. 
“Camera’s should come with more film,” you say, blinking the shock of the flash from your pupils. A white ring stays floating in the air, kissing his nose as you turn toward him again. 
“Camera’s should have unlimited film. How the fuck am I supposed to take enough photos of you if every one costs ten cents? I’ll be broke by August.” 
Steve puts the camera down. He’s in sweatpants and a hoodie, your favourite outfit on him. You fell in love with the idiot who wears tight jeans and polos, but you stay in love with the guy he is in the evenings, when he gets on the line begging you to come over, to move in, to see yourself to his hip and stay forever. It’s more than encouraging to be liked loudly. I love you’s are new between you and he doesn’t seem to notice, he passes them out like candy. Broke the dam and can’t stop saying it. 
“And it’ll be okay,” he says, taking your fave into both hands. “‘Cos shit, I love you.” 
“I love you,” you say softly. 
He grins. A tender kiss is interrupted before it can occur, shocked out of happening by the landline ringing on the wall. “Shit, that might be Robin. I’ll be right back,” he promises. 
He tumbles off of the couch to rush to the kitchen where the phone rings, and you sit there with your heart pounding, wondering how you got this lucky. You always thought you’d never be loved, that there was something fundamentally wrong with you that stopped affection in its tracks. Then you met Steve, and he’s been unapologetic about how much he wants you. He asked for a date ten minutes after you met, another one when the first was barely over. Things went so well he didn’t have to ask you to be his girlfriend, he just sort of stuck to you like he’d been glued on, but he did ask eventually, and the answer (undoubtedly a yes) had seemed to shock him anyway. 
Steve’s just crazy for you. 
He’s so pretty, so sweet, so funny. He doesn’t get how much of a catch he is, all that fake confidence hiding a loser who loves like breathing. 
You’re as happy as you’ve ever been in your whole life. The tears come naturally, small, warm beads that slip down your cheeks unhurried. 
You take the photo you’d just posed for and hold it up to your eye level. It’s a cheesy couple’s picture —Steve looks like he adores you, and you look like you’re burning up with joy. 
You sniff and hold the photo primly in both hands against your lap. 
“Baby?” 
You sniff again, wiping your cheeks as you turn to Steve’s concerned voice in the door. “Hey. Sorry.” 
“Don’t cry,” he says, sitting down where he’d been, couch cushion dipping under his weight. “Hey, please don’t.” 
“No, sorry.” You pass him the photo. “It’s just a really good photo.” 
He pauses. His eyes flicker between you and the photo, your wet cheeks and the frame of you with your face leaning into his kiss. 
“It’s great,” he agrees, arm behind your shoulders. “Happy tears, right? I don’t have to beat anybody up?” 
You tip your head to encourage a kiss that he gives immediately. Insanely happy tears. “You’d have to beat yourself up,” you say. 
“You think I wouldn’t? For you?” 
You laugh wetly and slouch into his arms. “Don’t be stupid.” 
“That’s my middle name. Right before Lover.” 
Steve ‘Stupid Lover’ Harrington? You laugh and demand more kisses, the kind he probably shouldn’t take a photo of. 
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munsonhoneybaby · 1 year ago
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Sweet Leaf | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader
Summary: Finally starting to spend time with Eddie outside of your bedroom, everybody seems to know about the two of you but Dustin. 
Word Count: 10.3k
Warnings: 18+ mdni, eddie’s never-ending pet names, frequent drug use (marijuana), smut, lots of high sex in the whole series idk what to tell you lol, tiny bit of dry humping, eddie’s fishnet fetish?, skinny dipping, fingering, p in v (unprotected but he pulls out), sex in an empty parking lot, squirting, pretty heavy subspace, not angst but crying after sex, eddie’s a little fucknasty sometimes but he worships his lady, cheesy ahh ending
A/N: just two emotionally damaged stoners trying to figure out how to love each other, what more can i say? the length of this one just kept getting away from me lol i’ve loved writing this series and even though the main storyline is over i’d love to keep writing about these two if anybody sends in blurb/headcanon requests or anything like that !! i had plenty of little ideas i had to leave out !!
part one | part two | tmic masterlist
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Eddie paused in the mirror, fixing the hair laying on his forehead. He fidgeted with his shirt, trying to get it to sit right on his shoulders– it was an old Kill ‘Em All t-shirt he’d cut the sleeves off of ages ago. He huffed and did one more frantic scan of his bedroom, hands fluttering uselessly at his sides as he was sure there had to be something he’d missed. Bed made, laundry done, and messes cleared away, his room looked cleaner than he’d seen it in probably two years. Deciding it wasn’t gonna get any cleaner in the next fifteen minutes, he dashed down the short hallway to double-check that the living room was spotless.
He’d draped the nicest blanket they had over the back of the couch and even specifically bought a few candles to light around the room just for the occasion. A few pre-rolled joints sat out on the coffee table alongside the selection of horror movies that Steve definitely didn’t let him sneak out of Family Video for free; he wanted to give you options, so he settled on The Thing, A Nightmare on Elm Street, The Shining, and The Evil Dead. He would have happily taken you to see a movie, maybe even a drive-in, but you’d said you’d rather it be just the two of you.
Three knocks sounded at the door, making him jump. You were four minutes earlier than he expected. Stepping to the door, he glanced around the room again and blew out a heavy breath before he opened it.
And there you were. Black shorts peeking out under your baggy Dio tee and a bag of snacks in hand from the gas station a couple miles off, you smiled at him. “Hi.”
Eddie couldn’t help his cheesy grin as he replied, “Hey.” Something about you was so enrapturing to him. He could have just stared at you, standing in the afternoon sunlight shining on his doorstep, forever.
“You gonna let me in?”
“Oh! Uh– right.” He moved aside, opening the door wider. “It’s not exactly the Ritz, but uh–”
“Oh, knock it off. I don’t care about that shit.” You looked around, taking in the collection of hats and mugs lining the walls. The warm light outside made the closed mismatched curtains glow. “I think it’s perfect.”
He cleared his throat to overcome the warmth in his chest before he spoke. “I got a few different movies if you wanna pick.”
“Ooh, can we watch The Shining? It’s been a little while since I’ve seen it, it’s one of my favorites.”
“Sure thing,” He nodded. As he turned on the TV and put the tape in the VHS player, you found a seat on the couch and grabbed a joint off the table to light up. While you seemed totally at ease in his trailer, he was as nervous as the first time he met you. First date jitters, he supposed. You looked so comfortable curled up and smoking in the corner of his couch that, as he settled at the opposite end, he couldn’t help but feel like you belonged there.
Your legs stretched into his lap as you scooted down a bit to pass him the joint. He rubbed his free hand back and forth along your calf absentmindedly. “I don’t know how long you were planning on staying– if you wanna stick around after this movie, I could make a frozen pizza and we could watch another or something.”
“Sounds good to me,” You hummed in return.
Forty-five minutes into the movie, the first joint was gone and Eddie was focused intently on the television screen. You started to get fidgety though, foot nudging against his thigh. “What’d you sit so far away for?”
“I dunno, just thought I’d give you your space I guess? I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.”
“C’mere.” Pinching at his shirt, you tugged until he scooted himself to you. Your legs lay completely over his lap as you rested your head against his shoulder. “I don’t need space, I came here to be with you. It’s cute you’re taking this whole ‘first date’ thing so seriously, though.”
His cheeks flushed a little pink and he fiddled with his rings over your lap. “Sorry, I just– I want this to go well.” He laughed nervously as he continued, “I want to keep seeing you outside your bedroom, y’know? I want you to come to my shows, and I wanna take you to the diner, and I wanna kiss you goodbye after Hellfire sessions.”
You gave him a little smile, turning his face toward you to plant a soft kiss on his lips. “I wanna do that stuff too, Eds. You know that you mean something to me, right? I just wanna go slow in the Dustin department. He has to be okay with this.”
“Okay,” Eddie nodded instantly, “However you wanna go about it. I swear, I’ll even ask the little loudmouth for his blessing when you want me to. I mean, I love that kid too.”
For a split second you just took in his features, and those big, earnest eyes were impossible not to believe. The material of his shirt scrunched between your fingers as you drew his lips to yours again. “Thank you for being there for him. And for me. You don’t know how much it means.”
He brushed a strand of hair back from your face with a little smile. “I think I do, sweetheart.”
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“Hey, so where’s your sister?” Mike asked, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “She’s like…always home.”
“I don’t know,” Dustin frowned, “I guess she just told Mom she was going out. Maybe I should call Robin and ask if she’s with her.”
“Dude, she’s an adult,” Lucas shook his head slightly. “She probably doesn’t need you to check in on her, I’m sure she’s fine.”
“But what if she isn’t?” As he continued, he paced the length of the basement, hands gesturing wildly with his words. “And what is she doing? ‘Going out’? What does that mean? Why is she trying to hide where she’s going? What if it’s somewhere sketchy?”
“You need to calm down,” Mike insisted. “It really isn’t that serious, she’s probably with Robin and Steve or something.”
“Right, so I should just call Robin and make sure!”
Lucas still rolled his eyes, but Dustin was already dashing up the stairs to the phone. “Great, now he’s gonna lose it if she’s not with Robin.”
“Where else would she be?”
“Literally anywhere, man. She could be at the record store, or with Nancy, or maybe with...”
“You don’t think she could be with Eddie–” But Mike was cut off by footsteps thundering down the stairs.
“She’s not with Robin, Steve, or Nancy which means I’m out of people to call which means I’m officially concerned. Do you think we should go out and start checking places? I mean, what if she smoked like– like– bad weed or something? I don’t know how that stuff works! Why wouldn’t she tell me where she’s going? She should know I’m worried sick!”
“Oh my god, would you relax? Did you talk to your mom?”
“Well, of course she thinks everything’s fine! She trusts us both implicitly when she obviously shouldn’t!”
Mike pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a breath before he looked at him. “I seriously think you’re overreacting. Like Lucas said, she’s an adult; she doesn’t have to tell you everything. She’s allowed to have a life.”
Having returned to his pacing, Dustin halted and looked at him with an offended expression. “Are you trying to say I’m clingy? I’m not clingy!”
“I’m not saying you’re clingy! I’m just saying that you do your own shit, she probably does her own shit too. Maybe she’s taking time to herself or maybe she’s out with a guy or something.”
“There’s no way she’s out with a guy. She would tell me if there was a guy! And where would she even meet a guy? Work? She barely talks to anyone, you guys know that!” Mike and Lucas shared a glance before looking in different directions.
“Look, if she’s not home in an hour we’ll go check a couple places, alright?” Lucas finally sighed.
“An hour? It’s already a quarter after nine!” Then they heard the front door close and Dustin was racing back up the stairs. There you stood, kicking off your shoes beside everyone else’s, a smile on your face that you were trying to bite back. Until your brother and his friends burst out of the basement. “And where on Earth have you been?”
You looked at him questioningly. “Enjoying my day off?”
“By yourself? Until nine-thirty at night?” He placed his hands on his hips, scanning you with a scrutinizing gaze. “What were you doing?”
“What’s with the third degree? I stopped at the bookstore, then I went out in the woods and read for a while. Is that okay, Mom?”
“Don’t condescend to me, you had me worried half to death!”
As you replied, you ruffled his hair. “Aw, well that’s very sweet, Dusty. I’m fine though, you don’t need to wait up for me.”
“See? We told you there was nothing to worry about,” Mike chimed. When he and Lucas gave each other another pointed look, however, he knew they’d both seen the faint hickey peeking out from your shirt collar that Dustin had apparently missed.
“Goodnight, boys. I’ll make you guys some breakfast in the morning, alright?” They all called back their own goodnights as you headed down the hallway to your bedroom and they made their way back into the basement.
Later that night you were dozing off, still dressed and on top of the blankets, when you jolted back to full consciousness at the sound of the phone ringing in the living room. Grumbling a little under your breath, you rubbed your eyes.
You were halfway down the hall when you heard the basement door creak open, and suddenly you were wide awake. At half past midnight, there was no way anyone other than Eddie was calling and there was definitely no way Dustin could answer that call. Increasing your pace to a slightly-panicked speedwalk until you were in the room with him, you just barely made it to the phone before him. You pressed the receiver into your chest to muffle your voice as you practically whispered, “Don’t worry about it, Dusty, it’s for me.”
“Who is it?”
“Nancy, she wanted to talk about what I got from the bookstore but she was busy with Robin and Steve,” You answered easily. He nodded and yawned out another goodnight before booking it back downstairs. Letting out a relieved exhale, you finally raised the phone to your ear. “Sorry, Dustin almost picked up. Everything okay?”
“Shit, I’m sorry, baby. Everything’s fine. I tried not to call, I swear I did, but–” He laughed a little embarrassedly, “Fuck, when can I see you again?”
“Eddie,” You whispered through a little giggle. “You had to call about that now?”
“I mean, I could always come over so we could talk about it in person instead,” He teased.
“I just left your place three hours ago.”
“Should’a just stayed the night, babe,” He sighed regretfully.
Clutching at non-existent pearls, you replied, “Stay the night? On the first date? Eddie Munson, what kind of girl do you take me for?”
“Of course, sweet thing, you’re right. You could never do anything so scandalous as sharing a bed with me before we’re really goin’ steady.” You could picture that smirk on his face as he spoke. “Guess that means we’ve gotta plan a second date, huh?”
“Guess so,” You hummed. “Have anything in mind?”
“Well, I was thinking,” He began slowly. “Maybe you could come to one of our shows? I know that’s not a super great date idea since I’m gonna be on stage pretty much the whole time and everything, but–”
“No, that sounds great,” You interrupted. “When’re you guys playing next?”
“Friday night at eight.”
“Alright, I’ll see you at The Hideout on Friday then.”
“Alright,” He cooed back playfully. “G’night, baby.”
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Standing in front of your open closet, you rustled through all your clothes in indecision. “I don’t know what I should wear.” Nancy, Robin, and Steve sat side by side by side on the edge of your bed, peering into the closet from behind you. The latter opened his mouth to share an opinion but held his tongue as your younger brother leaned in your door.
“What’re you doing?”
“Uh– just trying to find something to wear, I’m going out later.” You shrugged off his question and continued shuffling through your hanging shirts.
“Again with this ‘going out’ stuff! With who?”
“Us,” Nancy interjected casually.
“Thought we’d go check out Eddie’s show at The Hideout tonight,” Steve added. “Show him some support since it’s usually just the drunks there.”
Dustin eyed you for a split second but seemed to move on from whatever suspicion he had toward you quickly. “Cool, I’ll let Mike and Lucas know. We were gonna hang at Mike’s, but we can all go to the show together instead.”
“You can’t come, Dusty. That’s not a kid-friendly environment,” You told him apologetically.
“What? Come on! We’re not kids, we’re in high school! We wanna see Eddie perform too, he’s our friend!”
“Oh, so now he’s just your guys’ friend,” Steve chimed. “Before, you were practically begging us to get along.” He stood and crossed the room to ruffle Dustin’s curls. “Seriously, dude, your sister’s right. This place is nothing but adults drinking, I doubt they’d even let you stay if you came in with us.”
“See? Your mother says no,” You confirm. “Sorry, Dustin, really. Maybe we could all do something together as a big group though soon, yeah? All of us and the Hellfire club. We could sit in on a session or take you all to the movies or something, okay?”
He paused, fidgeting with one of the buttons on his undone, patterned overshirt. “That’d actually be pretty cool. You’d do that?”
“Yeah, kid, it’s no problem.” You walked over to give him a side hug before nudging him out the door. “Now beat it, I’ve gotta get ready.” It took another minute or two of brainstorming before you decided to snag Dustin’s Hellfire t-shirt from his laundry basket– thank God you had just done his laundry for him. You thought it’d be the best fan attire since Corroded Coffin wasn’t exactly selling merchandise.
Once you were ready to go, Robin called shotgun as the four of you piled into Steve’s car. “Sorry that you guys have to tag along now, but you know how Dustin gets.”
Glancing at you briefly in the rearview mirror, Steve replied, “It’s no big deal. Sorry I told him you were going to see Eddie.”
“It’s fine,” You shook your head. “I wanna lie to him as little as possible anyway, I just haven’t figured out how to bring it up yet.”
“I know he wants you to, but you don’t always have to tell him everything right away,” Robin reminded you. “I mean, what were you gonna tell him– that you were fucking one of his best friends? He doesn’t need to know that. It’s not like you guys are actually together yet–” She was interrupted by a punch in the shoulder from Steve.
He gave her an incredulous look before Nancy took over, reaching over and squeezing your hand. “What she means is, you guys should take your relationship at your own pace and tell Dustin when you think the time is right.”
“Right, that’s exactly what I was gonna say,” Steve added.
Robin rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Harrington.”
“What? I was!”
When you were finally standing in the parking lot of The Hideout, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Robin hooked an arm around your shoulders and started for the door. “Come on,” She drawled. “Let’s catch ‘em before the show starts, you’ll be okay.”
They weren’t hard to find, setting up on stage front and center. You could see Eddie kneeling down to plug in the amp until Gareth lightly hit his arm and pointed in your direction. A grin stretched across his face as his stare dragged over your frame, taking in your fishnets, short skirt, and Hellfire tee. He excused himself to the rest of the guys before jogging over to you. “Hey, I didn’t realize you guys were coming along.”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up. Dustin found out where I was going and I didn’t want him to get nosy–”
“Are you kidding? This is the most sober people we’ve ever had in an audience, don’t sweat it.” He briefly squeezed your waist then let his hand settle on your back, fingers drumming impatiently. You looked at him questioningly, but he didn’t meet your eyes just yet. “I appreciate you guys coming, I know it’s not really your kinda music.”
Steve waved him off. “Nah, man, I’m sure it’ll be great.”
“Thanks, Harrington.” His arm moved from your waist to your shoulders, “I’m gonna steal her from you guys for a couple minutes if you don’t mind. I wanted to show her some of the equipment.” Robin opened her mouth to make a smart remark but was stopped by another punch from Steve.
He guided you to a nook behind one of the walls in the far corner of the bar. Humming lowly, he cupped your face so you’d look at him. “You really dressed for the occasion, pretty girl. You look fucking incredible.”
“Well, I haven’t gotten my exclusive Corroded Coffin t-shirt yet, so I figured this was the next best thing.”
“My apologies, babe, I’ll get right on that.” He dipped his head to press a long, slow kiss to your lips.
“Somebody smoked a joint without me,” You teased.
With a good-natured smile, he rolled his eyes in false exasperation. “Sorry, should’a gotten here earlier. We can smoke all you want after, alright? Pothead.”
“What’s that thing people say?” You asked sarcastically. “I think it was something about a pot, maybe a kettle?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He laughed. A whistle from Gareth called his attention to the stage and he exhaled heavily. “Okay, that’s my cue. Wish me luck?”
“Like you need it,” You pecked his lips. “I’m really excited to hear you play. You guys are gonna do great.” Eddie smiled and stole one last quick kiss before darting back to the stage, leaving you to make your way back to the others.
“We may have taken the liberty of getting you a drink,” Steve said as Robin pushed a glass across the table toward you.
“I would be offended if you hadn’t.” Taking a few swigs, you looked over to where Eddie was finally settling the mic into its stand, his guitar hanging from his shoulder. They didn’t bother with grand introductions given the small crowds that gathered weren’t exactly there to see Corroded Coffin; they simply started into their set.
The boys mostly stuck to covers of semi-popular songs– sticking to their roots with Metallica and Black Sabbath, but appeasing the bar patrons with some Led Zepplin and a grudging Bon Jovi song. A few pieces they’d weaved in were their own and you could tell, but they certainly weren’t out of place. You could see where their inspiration came from.
You caught up with Nancy, Robin, and Steve between songs, but they mostly carried the conversation as you watched Eddie. Anyone really paying attention would be able to see that he was in his element. Sweat matted his bangs to his forehead, fingers moving masterfully over the strings as he powered through Trapped Under Ice with incredible accuracy. While you had heard the dramatic voices he put on during Hellfire, you hadn’t known that he could also mimic James Hetfield and Ozzy very impressively. He wasn’t perfect, but what little he lacked in refinement and precision, he more than made up for with passion. 
The middle-aged drunks occasionally gave some muted applause for the songs they recognized, but otherwise ignored the free entertainment. He really was underappreciated here. In front of a real audience, you couldn’t imagine the kind of stage presence he’d have.
Over the next two hours, you worked your way through a couple drinks. You hoped the frequent crossing of your legs could be attributed to the short skirt you were wearing rather than your dwindling patience and self-control as you waited for Eddie to finish his set. When they finally wrapped up their last song, you made your way up to the stage. He was lowering the mic stand when you got to him, holding his gaze as you dropped a twenty in the guitar case in front of him. There were only a few other bills and some loose change inside.
“God, please don’t. Seriously, that’s insulting.”
“Are you kidding? That’s an investment. I expect it back with interest when you guys make it big.” He held a hand out to you as you joined him on the stage. “Really, I thought you were amazing. You’ll see when you get outta this place.”
He just gave you a small smile and brushed his thumb over your cheek, eyes sweeping over your face briefly before he took both your hands. “So I really do wanna hang with you, babe, but I absolutely have to move all our gear first. Is there any way I can convince you to stick around?” His lips dragged over your knuckles, leaving a few kisses as he spoke. “Have a li’l smoke sesh in the back of the van once it’s empty. Promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
Your chest warmed at the attention he was lavishing you with in front of all of his friends– Dustin’s friends– and you tucked your chin a little bashfully. “That’s fine, Eds.”
“Awesome. We’re gonna finish loading the van, then you can ride with me to Gare’s to unload everything there, then I’m all yours. Cool?”
“Sounds good to me, rockstar.”
Holding your face in one hand, he squished your cheeks and shook your head back and forth lightly. “Always makin’ fun ‘a me, aren’t you?” He landed a kiss on your puckered lips and subtly patted your butt. “Go sit with your friends and I’ll let you know when I’m finished, okay? So glad I had my best girl cheerin’ me on tonight.”
As he went back to helping the guys pack up, you went back to Robin, Nancy, and Steve who paused their conversation when you sat down.
“Swooning already?”
“Somebody’s definitely looking a little starstruck,” Robin added. “Ready to ask him to sign your boobs?”
“The way it’s sounding, he might later,” You replied before taking a sip of your drink.
“I’m proud of you,” She nodded and took your hands dramatically over the table. “At least one of us is leading a successful love life. We will live vicariously through you.”
“Well then, let me know when we figure out how to tell our little brother that we’re dating his male mentor.”
“Wait, did Dustin say Eddie was his male mentor?” Steve interjected. “That’s so not true–”
Robin shook her head. “Steve, shut up.” She smacked your hand and nodded behind you just before you felt hands settle on your chair.
“Hey, you guys enjoy the show?” Eddie’s rings clinked against the metal of the chair, his voice not far from your ear making your heart rate pick up.
“Yeah, you guys were great. We’ll have to come again sometime,” Steve replied.
Nancy politely asked, “How long have you been playing, Eddie? Some of those songs seemed pretty complex.”
“I started playing with the guys when I was in eighth grade, but I started teaching myself around sixth. So, I guess about…nine or ten years?” He shrugged, thumbs drumming against the chair.
“You’re really talented,” She commended.
“Thank you, that means a lot to me.” His hand shifted to your shoulder before he continued on playfully, “Your guys’ friend here gets a backstage pass though, which means she gets to come watch us unload equipment at Gareth’s mom’s house and smoke my weed.” He took your hand as you stepped down from your high-top chair, pushing it in for you and grabbing your purse as you said goodbye. “Thank you guys again for coming. I’ll see you around soon, yeah?”
Steve gave him a one-armed hug as he nodded, “Definitely, man.”
The two of you walked back to the van, hand in hand, your steps echoing in the mostly-empty parking lot. The others were already waiting in Gareth’s garage passing around a joint when you pulled into the driveway. You followed Eddie around to the back of the van as he opened one of the back doors. Gareth got up to open the other one, handing you the joint as he passed you. 
“Alright, boys, think we can manage our fastest unload yet?” Eddie asked, cracking his knuckles.
“Yeah. As long as you don’t tweak your fuckin’ back again, old ass,” Jeff scoffed in return.
“Seriously, dude. Lift with your legs,” Gareth chimed.
Eddie made a talking motion with his hand and mumbled mockingly back before grabbing one of Gareth’s drums. “Start moving your shit or I’ll stop discounting your weed.”
“Oh, yes! Forgive me, master!” Gareth snarked, voice quavering with feigned fear.
They all got to work on moving the drum kit out first before moving on to the other equipment. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you took a hit and sat on the edge of one of the chairs they had out. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I mean, there’s a fridge in the corner, you wanna grab a few beers?” Jeff asked, getting a grasp on one side of an amp.
Gripping the other side of the amp, Eddie gave him an unimpressed look. “Dude, did you seriously just send her on a beer run?”
“It’s literally the other side of the garage. Shut the fuck up and bend your knees.”
You grabbed a beer for everyone– except Eddie, who was stuck with cherry Coke until he was done driving– and passed them out when they were done moving the amps. Then, to kill some of the time, you sat in the van and packed a bowl to smoke with Eddie later. When the equipment left in the back started to dwindle, you, Jeff, and Barry made conversation while Eddie unloaded some of the lighter equipment with Gareth. Keeping his voice low, the drummer suddenly spoke. “You know you have to like– marry her, right?”
“What’re you talking about?” Eddie chuckled, though his face and neck warmed at the mental image.
Gareth jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in your direction. “Dude, she’s over there talking to your nerdy loser bandmates about Judas Priest’s influences on Iron Maiden’s first album. And she’s actually invested. You’re not gonna find another girl like that in Hawkins. Not to mention how you talk about her–”
“Alright, shut it,” He huffed. “Just help me get this shit out, it’s getting late.”
When the last of it was finally tucked away in Gareth’s garage, Eddie checked his watch and sighed. Eleven-thirty. “Damn.” Your conversation with the boys had drifted to your opinions on heavy metal power ballads when his hands settled on your waist. “Sorry that took so long, you ready to get going?”
“Don’t worry about it, Eds. I’ll see you guys later though, alright? We should really head out.” The three of them thanked you for coming and said their goodbyes before settling back into their fold-out chairs, presumably to keep getting fried.
You and Eddie climbed into the van and he started it up before looking over at you. “It’s not the first date anymore. Any chance I can convince you to stay the night?”
“No convincing needed. I didn’t know how late I’d be home so I already asked Nancy to cover for me if Dustin calls.”
“Wait, you really want to?”
“Of course I do. Will Wayne mind me staying there?”
“Oh, he wouldn’t care. He works the night shift and sometimes he works overtime, so he usually isn’t back until six or eight in the morning. And occasionally he’ll even stop for a drink with a couple guys from work and that could take ‘til ten,” He explained with a little crooked smile. “He’d love you, though.”
You noticed him freeze up a little as he registered his own words, so you took one of his hands and laced your fingers through his in your lap. “I’m sure I’d love him, too. He must be a great man if he raised you.”
He squeezed your hand lightly as he relaxed. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool.” There was a moment of quiet, just the low hum of the radio and the roar of the van until Eddie spoke again. “You wouldn’t wanna go to Lover’s Lake, would you?”
“Sure.” His hand settled on your thigh and your lips curled down as you repressed a little smirk. “I didn’t take you for the type.”
“Hey, I can be romantic,” He defended lightheartedly. “I just prefer places like these when they’re less populated.”
“Why? So you can smoke and have sex in them?” You asked with a joking scoff.
“No, I just like my privacy. It’s more intimate without a bunch of obnoxious people around.” He paused, then conceded. “But yes, I like to have a range of recreational activities to choose from. Is that so bad?”
You shifted your leg so his hand drifted further up your thigh. “You wouldn’t happen to be taking me there to do both, would you, Eds?”
“I’m taking you there to do whatever you wanna do, sweet thing.” His tone remained casual, but his hand slowly crept higher and higher. “We could lay down and look at the stars…Maybe go for a swim…” Goosebumps rose on your skin as his short nails dragged across it, fingers catching on the loops of your fishnets. “What d’you think?”
“We didn’t bring swimsuits,” You remind him.
“So?” He asked as he pulled into the small gravel lot hidden by the trees. Looking over at you with a smirk, he continued, “There’s no one else here.” He got out of the van and came around to open your door as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, though.”
After grabbing a couple of blankets from the back of the van, he took your hand and lead you out away from the trees. You helped him lay out the blankets, crawling onto them and kicking off your shoes. Eddie lay down beside you and you looked over at him, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually been out here at night. It’s really pretty.”
“Can’t believe you think so when you get to look in the mirror every day,” He shot back without effort, giving you that goofy grin of his.
Lightly smacking his arm, you fought back a big smile of your own. “That was terrible, you know that, right? That was actually so bad.” Your combined laughter sounded loud in the near-silent clearing of the lake; your voices were only accompanied by the constant chirping of crickets and the occasional owl’s hoot. 
He rolled onto his side, resting his head in his hand as he looked down at you. “You’ve gotta get used to taking my compliments, babe, even the corny ones. ‘Cause soon they’ll be comin’ non-stop.” You simply hummed in response, your hand finding the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. He didn’t hesitate to shift over you, arms on either side of you to support himself as his knee braced between your legs. Lips sticky with your lip gloss, his mouth made a path to your neck. “Y’really do look so pretty tonight, baby. Never seen you in a skirt before, I could barely pay attention to our set.”
“I thought you did amazing.” His hot breath on your neck made you squirm, grasping at his shirt as your hips wound against the firmness of his thigh. “Had me wet the whole time.”
“Fuck, wanted to get my hands on you so bad. Just performing had you all soaked for me, huh?” Your skirt rode up toward your waist until Eddie decided it was unnecessary, leaning back to yank it off. “Jesus H. Christ, fucking look at you.” Lying beneath him, fishnets stretched taut over your spread thighs leading up to your Hellfire tee, you were his fucking dream. It wasn’t hard to tell he wasn’t a religious man but, at that moment, he wished he was because he felt like he needed to thank somebody for your existence. It was like every fantasy he’d ever had simply walked out of his head and into his life. “Seriously, I might need to take a minute.”
“Can you help me out of these while you do?” You ask, curling your legs up to your chest.
He guided one of them up to his shoulder, running his hand down your outstretched leg and eyeing the tights before he looked at you. “Am I in trouble if I say no?”
“If you take them off now without ripping them I’ll wear them for you again sometime,” You bargained teasingly.
“I’ll do it if you let me eat you out through them next time.”
You shoved lightly at his chest with your foot, trying not to laugh. “You’re such a freak.”
Eddie narrowed his eyes at you playfully, but you could see he didn’t take the name to heart coming from you as his hips pressed into your ass. “Careful callin’ me names, babe. I’m starting to like it when you’re mean to me.”
“Pervert.”
He hummed, trailing kisses down the inside of your leg and finally hooking his fingers into the waistband of your fishnets. “Only for you, sweetheart.” His short nails scraped gently along your skin again as he carefully drew the tights down your legs. The second they were off, you sat up to pull him into another hungry kiss.
Deepening it, he started to ease you onto your back again but was shocked when you pulled away. With a coy smile, you asked, “How ‘bout that swim?”
Baffled, he was unable to come up with a response before you were standing and whipping your shirt off. His brain kicked back into gear when you dashed away from him toward the lake. Then he was running after you, fumbling to kick off his shoes and strip in the process. He froze as he watched you take off your bra and jump in wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of panties. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding. Finally kicking off his jeans, Eddie dove in after you.
Attempting to wipe the water from your eyes, you looked around for him in the water. Just as he breached the surface behind you, though, he grabbed your waist and shouted. Your squeal broke into a fit of giggles as he squeezed your sides and pulled you into his chest. “You’re such a dick!”
“That’s what you get for bein’ a tease.” Staying close to shore, the water came nearly to his shoulders. He urged you to wrap your legs around his waist, his hands settling under your butt to hold you comfortably.
Arms settling loosely around his neck, you looked away pointedly, that mischievous little expression finding its way to your face again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course, you don’t. ‘Cause the sweet girl I know would never do a thing like that, right?” He asked sarcastically.
You shook your head and answered in a falsely solemn tone. “Never.”
He chuckled softly until you leaned into him, nipples hardened from the chill of the water and pressing into his chest. Faint smiles never left your faces as you shared a few messy kisses. His hand rubbed soothingly up and down your spine while you pushed a strand of wet hair from his face. Swept off his shoulders, his soaked hair allowed you to see his whole face more clearly than ever. He started to feel self-conscious as your eyes drifted slowly over his features, taking him in, your thumb stroking over a spot beneath his ear that gave him chills. “You’re so handsome, Eddie.” He opened his mouth slightly like he was going to respond, but he couldn’t seem to think of anything so you changed the topic for him. “It’s nice here at night, we should come back again sometime when we don’t have any other plans.”
Eyebrows furrowing, he frowned in confusion. “What do you mean ‘other plans’?”
Untangling yourself from him, you faced him and swam backward toward the dock. “Hotboxing the van and having amazing sex, obviously. C’mon.” Climbing out, you held your arm tight over your chest as you snagged your bra off the dock and ran to the blankets still on the ground.
Eddie was close behind, picking up his trail of abandoned clothing. He started to apologize for the lack of towels, but you quickly waved him off and you both dried off as well as you could with one of the blankets. While you wrapped yourself in the dry blanket, he gathered your things with his to carry it all back to the car. “Go ahead and get in the back, I’ll start it up and get the music going.”
Opening one of the back doors, you found that the floor was already covered with other blankets. Climbing inside, you felt the van rumble to life. You could hear Eddie rustling through cassettes in his console as you peeled off your sopping-wet underwear and curled up with the pillows and blankets he’d put back there. The bowl you’d packed in hand, he finally joined you in the back. When he climbed in he paused to fidget with something you couldn’t see and suddenly the back doors were illuminated by little twinkling lights. He swung the door closed and tugged off his boxers before you asked, “When did you have time to do all this?”
“Hm? Oh, it’s all been back here for a little while. I just laid the blankets out in here when I grabbed the other ones to lay down by the lake.” He settled beside you, the top half of his blanket bunched in his lap leaving you free to ogle his tattoos– a favorite pastime of yours. “You want the first hit?”
You shook your head with a small smile, eyes tracing his features like they had in the lake. His hair was still heavy with water, but his forehead was hidden again and his curls were starting to come back. With nothing but moonlight, his eyes had looked black; in the glow of the fairy lights, you could see their warm cocoa-brown color again. His pretty lips formed an O as smoke billowed out of them. Their blushy-pink color nearly matched the flush on his cheeks, which you knew would spread to his neck and chest soon enough. He was beautiful, really.
He offered you the bowl and it stayed quiet, excepting the Master of Reality album playing softly, while you took a few long rips. You passed it back to him and let the silence continue for a moment before you finally said, “I’m gonna tell Dustin.” Unintentionally hitching in a breath, he choked on a throatful of smoke. The resulting coughing fit was so intense it brought tears to his eyes and you couldn’t help but laugh as you rubbed his back. “Are you okay?” He nodded, but you still leaned over the console to grab the bottle of water from the cup holder. 
Taking a few swigs, he cleared his throat. “Okay, sorry,” He let out a big breath before he looked at you again. “You’re ready to tell him?”
“Yeah.” Too nervous to hold his gaze, you curled into his side. He welcomed you, of course, tucking his blanket around the both of you and kissing the top of your head. “I just feel like things have gotten…real. You try to take care of me in ways no one else has before and everything feels so easy with you– and honestly, both of those things scare the shit out of me ‘cause that usually means everything is absolutely going to go to shit…But you look out for my brother, and I feel like I can trust you, and everything we do together just feels so intimate…” You huffed embarrassedly and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I think Dustin deserves to know that I care about you so much.”
“That we care about each other,” He corrected you. Hand framing your jaw, Eddie made you meet his eyes. “I’m gonna be there with you when you tell him. I don’t want you to do it alone, we should do it together. I still have to get his blessing, right?” He added jokingly. Before you could say anything, he started to ramble a little nervously. “I feel like this is real. I’ve never felt this way about anybody. I’ve never had the chance to have anything serious before, but you…You’re all I think about now. That first day I met you, it was like I had this ‘Where have you been all my life?’ moment and you’re all I’ve wanted since, and I know that sounds really cheesy and dramatic but–”
Your mouth on his cut him off, which seemed to be a habit you were forming. He didn’t mind though, he’d been told to shut up in much less pleasant ways. When you pulled away, it was only enough to murmur, “I know the feeling.” Your nose nudging his was enough for him to keep it going, hand hooking under your knee and drawing you to straddle his lap.
The blanket slumped to your waist leaving your torso bare for his eyes and hands to wander. “You’re just so fuckin’ beautiful. My pretty girl, right, baby?”
Toying with one of his damp curls, you held his gaze as you agreed, “No one else’s.” At your answer, he pulled you in for a much more desperate kiss. His fingers pressed into your back while the others slipped beneath you to find you soaked, your chest flush with his as his tongue passed your lips. 
He pressed two fingers into you easily, slowly massaging your g-spot until you were whining into his mouth. “Feels like you might not even need me to stretch you out, sweetheart.” Hips canting forward involuntarily, your clit ground into the thick base of his cock. Finally letting you catch your breath, he withdrew his hand from between you and looked down to watch how your slick spread on his skin as he rutted against you. “Mmm, gonna let me show you how bad I need you?”
You brushed his hair back from his shoulders as you breathily replied, “Condom?”
“Wallet,” He answered. Leaning over his shoulder to grab it off the console put you in the perfect position for Eddie to mouth at your tits, lips wrapping around one nipple while the roughened pads of his fingers found the other. You moaned quietly and tugged at his hair, but grabbed the wallet and rifled through it. 
“Eds, there isn’t one in here.”
“Fuck. Glovebox, maybe,” He suggested.
Huffing impatiently, you began to wind your hips against his again. “D’you promise to pull out if I let you fuck me raw?”
He looked up at you with wide eyes. “Really– I mean, are you sure? You don’t have to.”
“Need to feel you now, Eddie,” You insisted.
“Alright, sweetheart, I promise.” He lovingly pecked your lips before grasping your waist, helping keep you steady as you slowly sank down on him. Fully seated in his lap, a gasp rose in your throat. “There you go,” He murmured comfortingly. “I know, baby, but you’re so good. Can finally feel how wet you really are. Takin’ me so deep.”
Your voice was nothing but a high-pitched, airy sigh. “Feel you everywhere.”
“S’Cause I’m made for you.” Your forehead rested against his as he continued. “I was made to fill you up, pretty girl.” His words provoked a pathetic moan from you, spurring you to lift your hips fractionally just to ease back down again. Supporting yourself with your hands on his shoulders, you tried to start up a steady pace, but your thighs trembled with every motion. The moans and whimpers you let out started to sound quiet and watery and it worried him, but the determined rocking of your hips never ceased. “You doing okay, baby?”
Not lifting your head, you sniffed frustratedly. “Need help, Eddie.”
“Oh, baby, why didn’t you say so?” He cooed sympathetically. “S’okay to need my help, c’mere.”
Arms around your waist, he guided you up and down on his cock at a careful speed until you were grinding down on him again. “Eds please, I need more,” You whimpered. Rolling his hips to meet yours, he didn’t hesitate to tighten his arms around you and quicken his pace. The way he was hitting every possible spot inside you had your eyes squeezing shut to keep them from crossing. Thighs trembling, you shivered as he rubbed and squeezed at them.
Eddie’s shoulders rolled back as he leaned against the console, hands running slowly over your hips and across your stomach to palm at your tits. “Look so pretty on top’a me, sweet girl. Might have to make you ride me more often.” His thrusts into you sped up, the console against his back giving him more leverage. One of your hands rested lightly on his lower abdomen to steady yourself but once his thumb found your clit, you were practically writhing in his lap. He rubbed it in firm, precise circles and felt you squeeze around his cock uncontrollably. “That’s it, baby, come for me. Can’t wait to feel you soak me for the first time.”
Something felt different than usual as that coil wound tighter in your stomach. It was hotter, like flames were crawling across your skin. It felt like your bones shook and your eyes swam with stars as you cried out his name. Your nails dragged down his stomach, those of the other hand doing the same to his thigh, trying to anchor yourself with your head in the clouds.
It wasn’t until the ringing in your ears cleared that you heard Eddie’s feral groans, making you look down. Everything was drenched; your thighs, his cock, his stomach, and his chest glistened wet in the warm lights. The sight made you register the sloshing sounds of your dripping wet pussy as he started to slow his thrusts enough to pull out. Arms enclosing around your waist again, he all but pinned you to his chest as he rutted between your stomachs. Lips molding to yours, he kissed you sloppily before his gaze wandered your body in awe. “Can’t believe you fuckin’ squirted f’me. Fuck–” Cut off by his own moan, his forehead fell to your shoulder as his eyes squeezed shut, his hot spend painting both your skin and his. 
After he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, he eased you onto your back, watching the filthy mixture of your come drip down your used cunt. “Eds, what’re you doin’?” You asked timidly as he lowered himself between your thighs, voice coming out in a barely-there squeak.
“Wishin’ I could take a fucking picture, sweetheart. I was gonna clean you up. Want me to use the blanket instead? S’okay if you’re too sensitive, especially after all that.” You nodded and he kissed the side of your knee with a smile as he grabbed the soiled blanket and quickly wiped himself off. Your legs flinched as he patted you dry and his eyes filled with concern as he murmured your name. “Did I hurt you? Did I do too much?”
“No,” You struggled to raise your voice above a mumble. “I’m okay, Eds, I’m jus’ all sensitive.”
“Promise me that’s it?” He asked, running his hands comfortingly over your legs. Pointedly avoiding his gaze, you huffed through your nose and your eyes brimmed with tears. “Baby, c’mon, what is it? What’s the matter?”
You answered him in a whimper, sniffing back tears every few words. “I jus’ made a mess ‘n I’ve never done that before ‘n now everything’s all yucky–”
“Aw, baby,” He chuckled through a sympathetic pout. Lying down and drawing you to his chest, he wiped your tears and kissed your forehead. The two of you curled up under one of the clean blankets. “Nothing’s yucky, sweet girl. Just gotta wash the blankie, no big deal.”
“But ‘m still all sticky,” You pout up at him. “C’n we take a bath when we get home?”
“Home?”
“Your trailer, Eddie,” You whine. “Wanna take a bath.” Lids heavy with exhaustion, your eyes slowly fluttered closed repeatedly before they’d snap open again.
“You’re so sleepy, sweet girl.” He brushed your hair back from your face. “Think you can take a little nap back here while I drive us home?” You nodded dreamily but still clutched at him whenever he tried to get up. “I know, baby, just twenty minutes and we can take a bath. Okay?” When you finally conceded, he tugged on his jeans and made the short drive home. 
Once you were bathed and dressed in nothing but a borrowed Metallica t-shirt, he tucked you into his bed before crawling in beside you. You dozed off easily with your head on his chest, but he stayed up just a little while longer. Palm rubbing circles on your back, his lips ghosted over your forehead. “I love you, baby,” He whispered almost silently. Closing his eyes, he focused on the feeling of your heart beating against his side, counting them like a child would sheep until he fell asleep.
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The next morning, you woke up first, Eddie’s arms around you and his chest molded to your back. You scoffed and rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help your tiny smirk as you registered the feeling of him squeezing at your tit, his even, heavy breaths against your shoulder telling you he was fast asleep. Slowly rocking your hips back, you bit back a laugh when it made his grasp tighten while he nuzzled into your neck. He rutted against you, half-hearted and arrhythmic in his unconscious state. It wasn’t until you reached back to hold his hip and grind directly against his cock, separated only by his boxers, that he finally grunted himself awake. “Mmm, g’morning t’you too, gorgeous.”
“You’re a perv even in your sleep, you know that, Munson?”
He mouthed at your neck with a sleepy grin, “I could’a told you that. How’d you know I was dreamin’ about you?”
“Well, your right hand was my first clue.” You pointedly ground your hips into his again and looked back over your shoulder at him, “Wanna guess my second?”
“Can’t help but get ideas, babe. You’re sleepin’ in my bed, in my shirt, no panties…” His fingers walked a path down your stomach, stopping just after your belly button. “Promise I kept my hands to myself, though– while I was awake, anyway.”
His hand drifted leisurely between your legs but you groaned. “Eds, what time is it?”
“I don’t know, almost nine? Why?” His lips never left your skin, still working over your neck and shoulder without leaving obvious marks.
“We can’t, we have to go. Dustin’s at Mike’s and I wanna make sure we get back before him. I’ve still gotta make myself decent and figure out what I’m gonna say to him.”
“What we’re gonna say to him,” He corrected. “And can’t you stay indecent a little longer?”
“Wayne’ll be home anytime,” You remind him, “If he’s not already.”
He pouted, “But how often do we get to have great morning sex after a night together like this, baby?”
“Any morning now that I’ll be staying over whenever you want,” You point out.
“Hmm, I s’pose that’s true,” He agreed contently. Stretching out beside you with a loud groan, he pecked your cheek before he got out of bed. Yawning, “I’ll be right back,” he headed for the bathroom. 
Rolling over, you buried your face in his pillow and breathed in. Old spice shampoo, weed, and Marlboros filled your nose and it made every muscle in your body relax. Him. You wanted to bottle the scent, soak every pillow and blanket and sweatshirt you owned with it. You’d never have another restless night again. Lifting your head slightly, you left your nose against the fabric but allowed your eyes to flicker around his room. 
A bottle of lotion sat on his nightstand, he didn’t seem to bother with tissues though. You weren’t surprised. Handcuffs hung on the wall, also not surprising, but they still made your thighs twitch. There were more band posters than in your room, including a hand-spray-painted one for Corroded Coffin. He had three guitars, his prized possession– his other sweetheart, as well as another black and white electric, and an acoustic painted to say ‘this machine slays dragons’. An amp sat across from the bed and his dressers were strewn with clothes and beer cans. It was easy to imagine him existing in here. Playing guitar in bed in his boxers or planning the party’s next campaign at his desk.
Your eyes snapped to the door when it finally opened again. “Still in bed, huh?” Nodding with a small smile, you watched him rummage through his dresser for today’s band tee. His hand settled on Slayer before he thought of running into your mom, and opted for the much tamer Deep Purple one beneath it. “Well, you should probably put somethin’ else on before I take you home. What you’ve got on might get a little breezy.”
“Bite me,” You yawned, flipping him off as you got up.
“I didn’t think we had time for that,” He replied snarkily. He finished getting dressed as you slipped on your skirt and balled up your fishnets to put in your purse.
When you were both ready– or as ready as you could get for now– you headed for the van. “I’ll make coffee when we get to mine,” You offer. “My mom should be at work, so I’ll make breakfast. Food might help soften the blow.”
“God, you’re acting like we killed his cat or something,” He laughed. “We’re not breaking bad news, babe.”
“It’s still a shock, alright? And Dustin has big feelings, you know that. I just don’t wanna make him feel uncomfortable or lied to. Me and him don’t usually keep secrets, so this is a big deal.”
“I can be tactful, alright? But I’ll let you do most of the talking if that makes you feel better, I know you’re worried about him.” His fingers laced through yours and brought the back of your hand to his lips. “It’s gonna be okay though, sweet girl.”
Pulling into your driveway, you let out a heavy breath before you got out and lead him inside. As you got dressed, you tried to practice what you’d say, rambling your thoughts aloud. He left you to your process, only stepping in for you to bounce thoughts off of or to keep you from getting lost in your concerns. You only paused once you made your way into the kitchen. Putting a pot of coffee on, you asked, “Chocolate chip pancakes okay for breakfast? They’re his favorite. I’ll probably make a little of everything else too; eggs, bacon, sausage, there’s fruit in the fridge.”
Eddie had to bite his tongue to keep the words ‘marry me’ from rolling off his lips. “Sounds incredible, baby. Anything I can do to help?”
“No, it’s okay.” Watching you methodically gather everything you needed from the fridge and cabinets, he figured he’d just get in your way if he tried to lend a hand. While you cooked, you mumbled through your prepared speech again, knowing it would never go so smoothly in actual conversation. Thinking about it more, you just hoped Lucas and Mike didn’t come back with him.
By the time he made it home, leaving his bike in the yard, you had made more than enough food and Eddie had already eaten his. Dustin was talking the second the door was open. “What’re you doing here, Eddie? Something going on with Hellfire?”
“Nice to see you too, Henderson.” He retorted, standing and flicking the bill of your brother’s hat into his eyes. “Your sister made you breakfast. I hear chocolate chip pancakes are your favorite.”
He eyed both of you suspiciously as he started toward the kitchen. "Yeah, what's it to you?" Eddie shared a confused look with you, but decided not to say anything. After he’d made his plate and sat down at the table to dig in, Dustin spoke again with a mouthful of food. “So, what’s with the special breakfast? Why’re you guys being weird?”
“We’re not being weird–”
“You’re alone at the house together,” He pointed out, still shoveling food into his face. “That’s weird.”
“It’s not weird– would you just listen? It’s not a big deal, I just wanted to run something by you, alright?” Eddie could tell you were fumbling, forgetting everything you’d planned to say. His hand itched to reach out for yours on the table, but he knew you wanted to get the words out first. “I’ve been–”
“Seeing Eddie?” Dustin interrupted. When the two of you shared a glance and you opened your mouth to question him, he continued. “Mike and Lucas told me last night.”
“How did they–” Eddie began, but Dustin cut him off.
“Apparently, everybody knew but me! All the guys in the band knew! Steve, Nancy, and Robin knew! How could you leave me out of the loop like this? You know I hate not knowing things! I have to know everything!”
“Dusty, calm down,” You said softly. “I wanted to wait until I actually had something to tell you. He’s your friend, I didn’t want to change the way you look at him just to go on a couple dates and decide it wasn’t gonna work.”
Nose wrinkling, he asked, “So, what? You guys are like– boyfriend and girlfriend now or something?”
You snorted and Eddie couldn’t help the small, smug smile creeping across his face. “Yeah, are we boyfriend and girlfriend?”
Back of your hand hitting his stomach, you tried not to laugh as you answered. “Yeah, I guess we are.” Turning back to your brother, you added, “Only if you’re okay with it, though. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel like you can’t trust Eddie anymore.”
“It’s kinda weird, but I guess I don’t care as long as you don’t make out and all that gross shit in front of me. And you’d better treat her right or me, Mike, and Lucas are all leaving Hellfire,” He tagged on pointedly.
“You don’t have to worry about that, you have my word.” He looked like he was about to say more, but opted to stay quiet.
“Okay, well, I think I’ve lost my appetite for now.” Dustin stood from the table, “I’m gonna go back to Mike’s and tell them they were right.”
Rolling your eyes, you started to clean up. “Be safe, I love you.” 
“Love you, too!” He shouted back just before he yanked the door shut.
As you started rinsing dishes in the sink, Eddie’s hands found your waist. “I think that went well.”
“Hopefully it doesn’t stay awkward for long,” You sighed lightly. “I guess Lucas and Mike did the hard part for us.”
“Guess so,” He drawled in agreement. “So, what now?”
“Now? Hmm…” Drying off your hands, you turned to loosely wrap your arms around his neck. “I guess now we do whatever we want, no more sneaking around.”
“I hope that’s not gonna suck the fun out of it for you.”
“‘Cause watching you Tetris yourself through my window is such a turn-on,” You scoffed.
He gave you a look of mock offendedness. “Good thing I won’t have to do it anymore, since you clearly don’t appreciate the athletic prowess it takes to climb through that window without waking your mom up.” 
Halfheartedly rolling your eyes yet again, you let your fingers dip past the neck of his shirt, fingers grazing along the top of his spine. “How about you roll us a joint and then I’ll show you how much I appreciate your ‘athletic prowess’?”
“You drive a hard bargain, babe,” He sighed theatrically. “But you know it’s an offer I can’t refuse.”
“Obviously,” Lacing your fingers through his, you dragged him toward your room. “That’s why I offered.”
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As the three boys gathered at Mike’s house again, he asked, “Wait, we were right?”
Lucas stood, pointing at him. “I TOLD YOU, MAN!” 
Mike tried to argue, “I NEVER SAID–”
“I TOLD YOU!”
“GUYS, SHUT THE HELL UP!” Dustin interjected.
Lucas cleared his throat as the two of them settled back into their seats. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“So, you’re really okay with Eddie dating your sister? I mean, it’s not gonna make Hellfire awkward or anything, is it?” Mike questioned.
“I don’t know, it’s weird. It’ll definitely be nasty seeing them all lovey-dovey or whatever, but they’re still just Eddie and my sister. As long as they don’t act different, I won’t act different.” Turning on the TV, Dustin flopped onto the couch next to Mike. “Besides, I think part of me knew they’d hit it off– I’m like a natural matchmaker. They just have too much in common, ya know?”
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part one | part two | tmic masterlist
tags: @adequate-superstar @akiratoro420 @bbciwp @trixyvixx @yujyujj @nope-thanks @broccolisoupy @spookybabey @comboboo @thecraziestcrayon @mommybaby-witch @imvirginia17 @therensistance @peacheskiwi @skyfullofsong123 @hcneyedsstuff @aysheashea @prestinalove @ungracefularchimedes @psychospore @bellaisasleep @untoldshortsofthefandoms @ficsaremylife @ohmeg @twirls827 @bellasfavoritesweatpants @sebastiansstanswhore @444aslut444 @ourautumn86 @dream-a-little-nightmare @extrainsanity @poniesandcupcakes @trln @cantreadbutcute @kennedy-brooke @navs-bhat @sluggzillaa @whatwedontdointheshadows @saayanaaa @depressedacidtest @unholyyylita @m-chmcl-rmnc @pullhisteeth @vivalasv3gan @a3trogirl @thesagewitchh @djoseph-quinn @darlingdixon
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nastybuckybarnes · 2 years ago
Text
Comfortable
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Summary: Bucky finds out that you’ve never climaxed during intimacy and he’s not happy about that.
Warnings: Smut, Crying during sex, Overstimulation (mental and physical), Language, Fluff, Minor Angst but not really
Word Count: 2.8K
A/n: Kinda based on life but without bucky coming in and setting things straight lol. I’ve also got the first like 5 parts of a new series written, so that’ll be coming soon hehe. anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, and I love you all very much! 
~*~
“I don’t know, Nat, I just... I guess I’m just never... I don’t know. I’m in my head a lot, I guess.”
The redhead snickers, elbowing her sister and sharing a look with her before both of their gazes return to yours.
“Barnes lacking?”
You shake your head quickly, trying to clear his name.
“No! No, God no! He just... it’s not him, it’s me. I think too much, I’m focused on making sure it’s good for him, making sure he finishes that I... I don’t know.”
Yelena purses her lips, “does he know he hasn’t made you cum yet?”
You swallow hard and shake your head, dropping your gaze to your lap.
“I... I fake it.”
The assassins exchange glances again and you huff a sigh.
“He’s good, he’s really good and he makes me feel good and I get close but... I just can’t... I can’t cum. And it’s not like it’s just him, I’ve never cum with anybody I’ve been with. I just... can’t do it. Maybe I’m broken,” you whisper that last part mostly to yourself, but both women jump in and shake their heads.
“It’s an intimate thing. You probably just want to feel one hundred percent comfortable with the person before giving that last bit of yourself to them. Orgasming with a partner for the first time is... intense. You should talk to him about it, tell him the truth and explain it. Maybe you guys need more foreplay, maybe you need to be in control more, but you’ll only figure it out by talking to him about it.”
You bite your bottom lip and shake your head at Natasha, “I don’t wanna hurt his feelings though, Nat. I just... how the hell do I gently tell him that he hasn’t made me cum and I've been faking it the whole time?”
Two sets of trained eyes dart over your shoulder just as you hear the door to your apartment shut.
Tension pulls your shoulders up and you squeeze your eyes shut, praying that he didn’t hear you.
The way the two Russians in front of you press their lips into thin lines gives you your answer, and you drop your head forward, hating the fact that this is now a conversation you need to have with your boyfriend.
“Well uh, I think we should take that as our cue to leave,” Yelena says awkwardly, pressing on a smile and offering Bucky a small wave as she rises to her feet, Natasha following after.
You stay rooted in place on the couch, refusing to even acknowledge his presence as he putters about in the kitchen, waiting until your friends leave before finally making his way into the living room.
Your eyes don’t leave your hands as he takes a seat on the floor in front of you, his hands, one cold and one warm, finding yours and squeezing gently.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to take deep breaths.
If you were to look at him, you’d see that his face is confused, not angry. Not a hint of anger could be found within him. If anything, he’s upset that you hadn’t told him before. That you didn’t feel comfortable confiding in him and telling him the truth.
The entire time he was under the impression that you were enjoying the sex and getting just as much out of it as he was.
“Why are you apologizing, sweet girl?”
You sniffle and shake your head, fear icing your veins.
You don’t want him to be mad at you and you don’t want him to feel offended.
“I just... I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head and reaches one hand up to cup your jaw, raising your head enough so that you finally, finally look into his eyes.
Your beautiful eyes are filled with tears and it makes his heart ache in his chest.
“Why the tears, honey, what’s wrong?”
You shake your head and sniffle, dropping your gaze only to raise it when he squeezes your chin.
“C’mon, sweet girl, you can talk to me. I... I don’t want you to ever be afraid to talk to me, okay? What’s got you so upset?”
You take a deep breath and squeeze his hand, trying to muster up your courage.
“I just... I don’t want to make you mad.”
He furrows his brows and shakes his head, absolutely flabbergasted at the fact that you think he’d be mad at you for being honest.
“Why would I ever be mad, baby? If you’re upset, I wanna know what I can do to make you feel better.”
You take another deep breath then slowly nod.
“I just... I know that sex is a sensitive topic for a lot of guys. Especially... their performance. And yours is great! The sex is great and I love it and you’re amazing! I just... I haven’t... ya’know. I never have with anyone else either. I’m starting to think that I can only do it by myself,” you whisper glumly, your shoulders sinking in.
Bucky is quiet for a moment. He’d already heard every word you’d spoken to Natasha and Yelena, and, he’s not gonna lie, it punches at his pride to know that his girl isn't enjoying it as much as he is. All he wants is for you to feel your best in every aspect of life.
“Well, why don’t we talk about this a bit more, huh? You said that it’s not just me, but everyone you’ve been with?”
He knows this isn’t about him, it’s about you, but he really hopes that you’re not trying to soften the blow. If other people have made you cum, he wants to know how and when and then he wants to cut their fingers off for ever touching you.
You nod, sniffling. “Yeah, I just... I don’t know if I get in my head too much or if I’m... not comfortable enough, but I just... I can’t.”
He nods slowly, trying to gather his thoughts and figure out a solution.
“What can I do to make you more comfortable, honey?”
You shake your head and push to your feet, hating every word of this conversation.
“I am comfortable with you, Buck. I just... forget I said anything, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
His long fingers wind around your wrist, stopping you from fleeing like you so desperately want to.
“It does matter, honey. It matters a lot, actually. I’m not mad and I’m not offended. I just... I want you to feel the same intimacy that I feel when we have sex. It’s... amazing. And I want you to experience it. So tell me how I can make you feel better.”
Your glossy eyes raise to his and, when you see nothing but honesty and love, you nod slowly.
“I don’t know what’s missing or what needs to happen. You’ve got me really close, but I just.. maybe I think about it too much? I don’t know.”
He cups your cheeks and presses the softest kiss to your forehead.
“You’re gonna need to direct me, baby. Next time, you’re gonna need to tell me what you like, what feels good, okay? And when you get close, you tell me and I’m gonna keep going until you actually cum, is that all right?”
You nod again.
“Okay.”
He kisses your lips gently then pulls you into a tight embrace.
“Okay.”
~*~
The next time the opportunity to be intimate arises, it’s after a small get-together at Yelena’s place.
You’ve already had a sizeable glass of wine, and now all you want is your boyfriend’s hands on your body.
He pushes open the door to your shared apartment, a grin on his lips as you pepper kisses along his jawline.
“Hey, sweetheart. You want something? Hmm?”
You nod, lips not leaving his skin as you push his jacket off of his shoulders.
“C’mere.” His metal arm dips beneath your thighs, hoisting you up, while his flesh arm wraps around your waist, keeping you held tightly against his chest as you wrap your legs around him.
He leads the two of you through the apartment and into the bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed and pulling away to pull his shirt off.
You shimmy out of your dress and toss it to the ground, leaving you only in your matching black lace set.
Bucky’s eyes devour your figure and he’s quick to shed his pants and join you on the bed, crawling between your legs and smoothing his hands over your thighs.
“How you feelin’, pretty girl? You okay?”
You nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on the planet.
And to him, you might as well be.
“You gonna let me eat you out, baby? Please?”
How could you possibly say no to that?
When you nod at him, he grins, beyond pleased, and slides his fingers beneath the fabric on your hips.
He pulls your panties down your legs and brings them up to his face, holding your gaze while taking a deep breath through his nose.
“Fuck, you smell good. Taste even better, though.” And with that, he situates himself between your thighs and flattens his tongue against you, licking you from your dripping hole up to your throbbing clit.
You sigh happily, fingers tangling through his hair as he works his tongue over your clit and dips two fingers into your heat.
“Just like that...” you whisper, your head digging into the pillows as he plays you like a fiddle.
He continues fucking his fingers into you, pausing when you give a particularly hard tug on his hair then repeating exactly what made you do that.
You can feel it slowly building, each pass of his tongue and thrust of his fingers brings you slightly closer, and you can’t help but feel your heart begin to race.
“Fuck... just like that, Bucky...”
He follows your instructions perfectly, doing exactly what makes you feel good.
He watches your face scrunch, feels your heels dig into his back and your nails scratch at his scalp and - Goddamn is this what he was missing out on? This is what you look like when you’re really about to cum?
It takes all of his self-control to not grab his phone and take a picture of you.
Your chest rises and falls more rapidly and your eyes are squeezed shut as your walls start fluttering around his fingers.
Fuck, you look gorgeous.
It’s such a strange feeling, having him bring you closer and closer to the edge. It’s so foreign yet so right and you tug at his hair and roll your hips up to his face.
“Bucky, I... I’m gonna.... oh fuck, please... I’m gonna cum, please!”
God, hearing that is like music to his ears.
He continues, bringing his free hand up to yours when you reach for it.
You interlock your fingers and grind your teeth together as your release washes over you, far more intense than anything you’ve ever been able to bring yourself.
A sound that’s half-moan half-gasp falls from your lips and you squeeze his hand harder while your walls clamp down around his fingers.
Bliss fills you, sparks flying from every nerve in your body, head to toe, and Bucky watches in awe.
He’s not sure how he believed you before when you were faking. The way you look when you cum is something he’s never going to be able to forget now.
Your body is wound so tight, your thighs clenched around his head and your nails digging into his scalp. Your walls are pulsing and clenching and, fuck, it feels incredible. He can’t wait to feel it around his cock.
He continues slowly fucking his fingers in and out of you while working his tongue over your clit, only pulling away when you tug your hips back.
He smacks his lips together and pulls away, his eyes connecting with yours.
Your chest heaves and your forehead has a light sheen of sweat on it, and you look like the Goddess you are.
“How you feel, baby?” He asks gently, smoothing his hands up your sides and rubbing his thumbs over the soft skin of your stomach.
You only nod at him, your hands coming to rest on his wrists.
“Words, baby. I need words.”
You lick your lips and take a deep breath before speaking.
“I feel good, Buck. I-I feel really good,” you whisper, eyes prickling with tears at the intensity of the moment.
He smiles lovingly down at you and leans in for a gentle kiss.
You taste yourself on his tongue and it makes the moment even more erotic.
“Gonna let me fuck you, baby?” He asks against your mouth, trailing his lips down your neck and kissing your skin gently.
You nod, sighing softly as tears trail back into your hairline.
He pulls back for a moment, just long enough to situate himself comfortably between your thighs and align himself with your entrance.
And then he’s pushing into you slowly, making you feel every single inch of it.
Your mouth drops open and your legs wind around his hips, pulling him even deeper than before. He’s pressing against every sensitive spot inside you and it feels heavenly.
“Fuck, you feel good, baby. Feel so good... God... nice n’ tight... wet... shit you’re like heaven.” He rasps the words against your throat, lips trailing up over your skin to rest on yours for a quick moment before he pulls back to gaze into your eyes.
“I love you, pretty girl. I really do.”
Your heart swells and you lean up to kiss him, gasping against his lips when he pulls his hips back and slams them forward.
He starts a steady pace, smoothing one of his hands over yours and interlocking your fingers.
“I wanna feel you cum for me again. Wanna feel it on my cock, baby. God, you look so pretty when you cum. Wanna take a picture of it and frame it, I swear.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and whine softly, arching your back and groaning when he hits deeper inside of you at the new angle.
“Right there... oh fuck, please...”
He buries his head in your neck, peppering the skin there with kisses while his free hand travels between your bodies to find your clit.
He circles the bundle of nerves with expert precision, lifting his lips to yours to swallow your moans.
You’re barely kissing. No, it’s more of just breathing each other’s breaths and moaning in each other’s mouths, but the intimacy is unmatched and the passion is flaming through your soul.
You wind your free arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to press more of his weight against you, and you can’t help but feel more secure and more comfortable.
“I... Bucky... I’m gonna... oh fuck.”
He nods, showering your face in kisses.
“Cum for me, honey. C’mon, please. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”
You can’t very well deny him when he’s asking you so nicely.
His fingers move against your clit faster and faster while his hips continue grinding into yours firmly, making your toes curl and your back arch further.
Your chest presses against his and you rake your nails against his back so hard you're sure you’re drawing blood, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.
Not when you’re falling headfirst into the most intense and powerful climax of your life.
Your vision goes white and your ears start to ring, and all you can do is squeeze around him.
Your legs tighten around his waist, your nails dig into his flesh, and your walls clamp down around his cock as fireworks erupt in your belly.
Bucky fucks you through it, keeping his pace steady as you tremble and convulse beneath him, your mouth open as soft whines fall from it.
God, the feeling of you, all hot and tight and wet around him... he’s ready to die happily now that he’s gotten to truly experience the glory that is having you cum around him.
His pride swells and he can't help the way his ego inflates when he pulls his head back to look at your pretty face.
He did that.
He made you feel that good.
He’s the only man, no, the only person in the world besides yourself that’s ever made you cum. And he’s going to be the only one.
And now that he knows how to do it, now that he's gotten you there with his mouth and his cock, he’s never going to get enough of it. He’s gotta make up for lost time, doesn't he?
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youronlydarlin · 10 months ago
Note
What if sleep deprived!reader is doing work late at night again, and what if Price fucks her to sleep ;) ((This has been in my mind for a week now)) (Im using anonymous because Im still shy-)
Hnhhhhh. S' is so fuckin hot nonnie.
warning: fem! reader, kinda brat tamer! Price and a very eepy reader, somewhat dumbification, rough sex to soft sex, somnophilia at the end, not proofread 😢
You know your husband hates it when you stay up late. Moreover if it was work he couldn't convince you to finish in the morning. But were you really to blame here? It's not your fault the deadline got pushed early. Besides, you wouldn't be doing this if you didn't have to.
That was the philosophy you believed in up until your husband came in and decided to put you to bed himself.
You were always so stubborn, but you were adding a whole new flare to it earlier. Making a big show about how "you have to finish the report now, lest you want your boss to beat your ass". And he understands, really, he does. A man with his line of work would understand the calling of responsibility more than anybody. Maybe the late hours of the night has finally gotten into your head. Cause that certainly wasn't an excuse to act up, talking back, and thinking you could banish him to the bed with only the presence of one. No, young lady that attitude will not be tolerated. What happened to his good girl, huh?
But you see, John's always spoiled you. Even during one of your fights, and tantrums. Since you wanted to finish your papers so much John decides to be the bigger person, and give you exactly what. You. Want.
This leads us to now. Both of your wrists are pinned against your back, John using them as nothing but a handle to fuck you back on his fat cock. You feel like a doll, all limp as you're fucked within an inch of your life right by your work desk.
You want to sleep. To slip into dreamland. But the bright light from your opened laptop, paired up with your husbands unrelenting thrusts inside your tight pussy prevents you from even closing your eyes.
Open mouthed, and mindlessly drooling on the papers you were fussing over earlier, John thinks you look best like this. Someone as pretty as you shouldn't be working, much less overexerting herself.
He takes pity on you. His poor, sweet, baby. You're just being forced by your stupid job to comply with even stupider work. Shhh, hush now, sweet thing. Your husband's here to help.
Thrusts slowing down, he gently lets go of both of your wrists. Seeing them carelessly fall to your side makes him coo softly at you. You're being picked up before your mind can even process the action. The blur in your vision makes the colors blend in with each other, and for a moment you see the world like a kaleidoscope.
Fatigue latches onto your bones like a pesky leach. The only thing grounding you is the fat cock nestled within your core. The jostle of a mattress takes you out of your delirium, the softness of silk against your back feels like heaven. What was supposed to be a satisfied sigh quickly turns into a pleasured moan as John gives a shallow thrust into your puffy pussy.
He knows your tired, but he just couldn't help himself. Seeing his princess finally in bed like she deserves. Whining and groaning, you can't eve bring yourself to lift up your arms and tell him to give it a rest. Give you a rest. But, he's doing you a favor can't you see?
John's leaning down in a second, kissing your temple shut. You feel your body slowly succumb to his ministrations. Whispering soft praises into your ear, while he grinds himself aimlessly in your velvet walls.
The feeling of it is oddly more relaxing than stimulating. Eyes closed, you feel powerless even as John slightly picks up his pace. You've accepted defeat, finally falling into the wistful sleep your body has craved. And John thinks you look absolutely breathtaking like this. Always so beautiful without trying. He gets closer and closer to release, using your unconscious body to get himself off. Cumming deep inside of your pretty, princess pussy.
a/n: AHHHHH. M' sorry for only being able to answer your request today nonnie, I know you sent this yesterday 😞 also like. I didn't know if you wanted something soft or rough, so I just added both. Also, this was a lot of fun to write! No pressure on keeping yourself anonymous, jus' know that you can always send in your horny thoughts. N e ways, I hope you enjoyed this! Have a wonderful day/night, my loves!
Yours, truly,
–dolly
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morning-star-joy · 9 months ago
Note
Do you ever plan on writing maybe a little pregnancy one shot for our ASHWAH babies? 🥺🫶🏽
So I did actually write a little something playing with the idea last year, but it got buried in my docs and I forgot about it until now! Not an actual pregnancy, but just a short drabble of Joel thinking about it. Here it is!
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give you my wild, give you a child
Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, ASHWAH Universe
Summary: Joel imagines another kind of life.
Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI Mentions of previous smut. Joel is a breeding kink legend. Thoughts of pregnancy and body changes through pregnancy. Pregnancy kink.
Wordcount: 1k
A/N: Just a gentle reminder that ASHWAH pregnancy is not canon! It's just an AU exploration, and you do not have to consider it their ending if you don't want it to be. Any direct sequel won't have it <3
Important: Please read this post before engaging with any of my fics. How you can help Palestine.
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Joel was trying hard not to think about it.
He had been trying so very hard not to think about it for months now.
But she was making that an extremely difficult task.
Especially with the way she was holding Hope right now, balancing Tommy’s one-year-old daughter on her knees, gently bouncing her up and down with a bright smile at the baby’s giggles that filled the air.
It was one of the many times the two had taken up babysitting their goddaughter, while Tommy and Maria got some much needed rest. But each time Hope was in their house—because that’s what it was now, their house, as she had hardly left it since that night in front of the fireplace when they had finally given into each other—Joel felt an ache in his chest.
That ache slowly grew into an unfamiliar longing, one that only deepened whenever the baby was balanced on her hip as she talked to the child, or rocked her to sleep in her arms.
Joel wasn’t an idiot. He knew how impractical it was, even with how happy they all were to have Hope in their lives.
He knew it wasn’t even something that she really wanted, or at least not the last time they had actually talked about it.
God, no, had been the words she sputtered when he had off-handedly asked her about it in Hope’s nursery a year before, long before they had fallen for each other as fully, as completely as they did.
But he knew how much their goddaughter meant to her, how much her natural instinct of a protector kicked in around the baby, much like his own.
And then there was that one night, when she had worn that lace that he still dreamed about, a memory that possessed his mind whenever they were apart. The way it laid against her skin, sticking to her cunt with her own release when she rode his thigh with a desperation that only became needier when he slipped his cock inside her, and words he’d never forget fell from her lips.
You’d like to put your baby in me, hm?
He’d nearly lost his goddamn mind when she said it, fucking into her with abandon, filthy words he’d never even dreamed of uttering to her streaming from his lips.
And she fucking loved it, begged for it, that pussy that he worshipped squeezing his cock tighter than he’d ever felt as she came from the promises he made of filling her up until it took.
So maybe…
No, Joel thought firmly, trying to cut off that line of thought before his mind could wander down it again, like it had every time they’d taken care of his brother’s child the past few months. He had to stop his brain from concocting an image that was far too sweet, too innocent and idealistic to ever be true.
But as she lifted Hope into the air, grinning up at the baby with a softness on her face he never saw with anybody else—he wondered.
He wondered how she would look with another child in her arms, a precious life made up of both of theirs. Maybe one with his strong nose, and her sharp eyes. Or his stern brow, and her striking hair.
Her hair that he so loved to admire night after night, along with every inch of her, his hands gently running over the body that had become a home to him, while she drifted off to sleep under his familiar touch.
As his fingers skimmed across her chest and down to her stomach some nights, Joel imagined if by some bizarre twist of fate, after one of their heated moments of passion where they got carried away in him filling her up, that it did take.
He pictured the swell of her breasts as she lay naked in their bed; soft, tantalizing flesh that would only grow fuller. The same way her whole body would slowly change, her stomach rounder because of him, as she—
“Joel?”
Blinking rapidly, he was pulled sharply from his silly daydreams, shaking his head to bring himself back to the present and focus on the love of his life as she stood in front of him.
Her eyebrow was arched as she looked over him with a question in those piercing eyes. Hope was balanced on her hip, the baby’s fingers gripping onto her hair, and Joel’s breath caught in his throat. He keenly felt that ache of longing again as she gently removed the small, chubby fingers from her hair and held out the baby to him.
“Can you hold her for a bit?” she asked, and Joel accepted Hope into his arms without question, even though in the back of his mind he kept picturing how it would feel to pass that child from his imagination, the one with some unique mix of their features, between them. “Gotta pee.”
Joel huffed out a quiet laugh, mumbling an affirmative, “No problem.”
Still, she watched him for a moment longer, glancing over his face before leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.
“Your mind’s a mile away today,” she mumbled, pulling back to move away, but not before Joel could wrap his free arm around her waist. He brought her back in for a proper kiss, no matter how quick the peck on the lips was so she could run to the bathroom.
“My bad,” he said quietly, avoiding her gaze to look down at Hope, even as he felt the familiar intensity of being analyzed by his woman before she moved away.
“Let me see inside your head later,” she called over her shoulder, her voice only half-teasing as she moved towards the bathroom. “I wanna see what has my man so far from planet earth.”
Joel stiffened, holding his breath until he heard the bathroom door close, and only then did he exhale sharply, lifting one hand from where he had brought Hope securely against his chest to rub his thumb and forefinger across his eyes.
Fuck.
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spyeriasecret · 4 months ago
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and now it's time to play WOULD GRAVITY FALLS CHARACTERS RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS (pre-weirdmageddon) (non gravity falls fans take this as a sign.)
DIPPER PINES - not sure he'd understand the concept immediately, but would catch on quick because he understands what it's like not being called something you want to be called
MABEL PINES - YES. no question about it. there's so many things i could say here. she'd correct herself for THINKING the wrong pronouns.
STANLEY PINES - understands and correctly genders you for all the wrong, crime-related reasons! bro is the king of preferred names. you say "hey i'm actually exam/ple" and he'll be like "AH. I GET IT. WINK. DO YOU ALSO WANT TO BE NOTIFIED WHEN THE COPS ARE IN TOWN" like i cant overstate this. if you say hey i want to change my identity he will pull out a stack of fake IDs and have you pick one. he's a little confused but he got the spirit!
STANFORD PINES - if you ever need a guy to not grasp a modern-day concept, call this guy! he'd do his best, but only because he wants to be nice. he does Not understand. give him a little bit of systematic exposure and he'll get it! he will take a scientific approach! but he'll get it! somebody get this man 2024ccs of woke liberalism stat
SOOS RAMIREZ - calls you dude and bro. does not call you anything but dude and bro. he knows what you are and he respects that! but let's be real honest here.
WENDY CORDUROY - incredibly supportive and super chill. if you were still in the closet, she'd do the mouth zip motion thing. you get it. she's so awesome about you
WADDLES - oink?
GIDEON GLEEFUL - yes to your face! no behind closed doors. he'd probably call you "that queer" while villain monologuing in his room . i can hear it in his voice
BUD GLEEFUL - THE gravity falls homophobic youth pastor let's be for real he'd say "it's not too late to turn to God" as a christian trans person i'm pretty sure God thinks about lgbtq+ kids and fraudulent capitalists on two separate ends of a very long line
SHERIFF BLUBS & DEPUTY DURLAND - do i even have to say it. i'm gonna say it. solid top and DEAD SERIOUS bottom. they ARE the loud and proud gravity falls lgbtq+ community. if they're transphobic i'll eat my socks.
CANDY CHIU - i know what you guys are thinking . "oh candy's so sweet of course she'd respect your pronouns!" CANDY MOTHERFUCKING CHIU WILL NOT ONLY RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS, BUT SHE WILL GO OUT OF HER WAY TO USE THEM AT ANY POSSIBLE MOMENT. if she sees somewhere to say your pronouns, she will DO it. because she LOVES YOU. and also she'd fight anyone who gets it wrong!
GRENDA GRENDINATOR - trans. she loves you. will help candy fight anybody who gets your pronouns wrong.
FIDDLEFORD MCGUCKET - honestly this is a hard one. he could ACKNOWLEDGE! your pronouns! but other than that i'm not sure. pre-memory wipe, i think he'd feel a little weird about it, but it would become nothing to him eventually
PACIFICA NORTHWEST - "ew. what the fuck." and then suddenly she's asking you how you figured that out. For No Reason
ROBBIE VALENTINO - calls you a faggot. is it because he is homophobic? because he is one? because he hates you specifically? the world will never know
BLENDIN BLANDIN - he lives in the year 207̃012. i find it hard to believe they haven't made respecting pronouns mandatory yet.
AGENTS POWERS & TRIGGER - are the pronouns on your legal documents????? it's not funny stop laughign
TYLER CUTEBIKER - gay. his pronouns are get/it. he will respect you (in his own ways)
LAZY SUSAN - forgets you had the wrong pronouns in the first place. she respects you by default
TIME BABY - does not refer to you
BILL CIPHER - he would call you your preferred pronouns but DON'T get it twisted. he does not respect you as a living thing. it isn't bigoted (that would be ironic considering that whole sixer thing) he just doesn't. maybe he'd make HEAVY fun of you for good measure but he's got to dig at somebody somehow. also were pronouns even real in his dimension anything could happen man ????
SHMEBULOCK - shmebulock
(did i forget anybody? let me know)
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dilfl0v3rss · 1 year ago
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Think about this spoiled reader who parents gave her everything but when she meet Ony he shows her that it doesn’t work like that with him !!!!!!! 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾
YES YES YESSSSS
you didn’t see yourself as a spoiled girl. your parents just loved you so much they gave you everything you wanted because they wanted you to have it. regardless, since they raised you with the thought that you’d be handed everything you wanted in life, it was very hard for you to keep a boyfriend. the men you’ve messed with either couldn’t handle you, couldn’t afford you, or both and you were sick of it. that was until you met your current boyfriend onyankopon.
you and ony have been going on dates here and there and they have been great. he always pays, always drives, and never has you lift a finger. you were living the sweet life and got to be the same “spoiled” girl you were with your parents. the two of you made it official five months ago and there hasn’t been any problems since. he fucked you the way you wanted, bought you what you wanted, and always made sure you were just happy as could be.
“ooouuu these are pretty!” you squealed as you practically snatched the pretty boots off the rack. ony chuckled behind you, loving the way your ass looked in your pretty mini skirt as you waited for a worker to approach you. “mama it’ll be quicker if you just ask em for help. waitin for an employee to see that you want something is crazy” you turned around towards your boyfriend, giving him an annoyed look before letting your irritation fall from your tongue. “well my mom and dad always had the employee come t’me. i never had to go to anybody when they would take me shopping” ony rolled his eyes at you. ‘here she go again’ he thought as he quietly walked away from you and too an employee.
as he came back with the woman behind him, he was annoyed to see you already trying on the pair of boots. “ma why you ain’t tell me someone came to help you” his annoyance was beginning to grow as he watched you roll your eyes at him before sliding your foot into the other boot. “didn’t feel like looking f’you” before he could lecture you, your disrespectful ass lifted your boot and lightly kicked it onto the thigh of his black sweatpants, the dust from the ground immediately rubbing on the fabric as you spoke without a care in the world “zip it for me papa. wanna walk around in em”
ony never really seen this side of you before, but he didn’t like it. he tightly grabbed your leg before sliding the boot of your foot and putting it down next to you. you rolled your eyes at him for the second time today, mumbling a “niggas can’t do shit right” before putting it back on and zipping them yourself. you pranced around the store, doing spins and twirls in the boots and stopping at every mirror to check yourself out. “i want emmm!” you obnoxiously yelled before walking back towards your irritated partner at the front of the store. “baby i want themmmm” ony looked down at your pretty face, honestly contemplating getting you the boots until he remembered the big ass dusk stain on his pants.
“no” the word when in one ear and out the other as you sat down and took the boots off, putting them back in their box before walking on line for him to pay. ony was honestly surprised at this behavior, his brown eyes watching you wait in line for over ten minutes until you were next up. you whipped your head towards him, already irritated that you had to wait on line before you spoke. “come here i said i want these” the way you spoke to him brought the attention of many other people in the store, including the cashier as she embarrassingly waited for one of you to speak. “m’not buyin you nun mama. you acting crazy right now”
your jaw dropped at his words. there was no way this man just told you no. your eyes instantly began to water with anger as you stomped off the line and i to ony’s face. “yes. you. will. get over there right now and buy me those fucking boots” anger quickly washed over ony’s features as he tried his hardest not to wrap his strong hand around your neck. the best he could do was walk away. everyone in the store took a deep sigh of relief as ony tried his best to deescalate the situation. you weren’t allowing that though. you followed him out the store, practically stomping as you went to grab his wallet from his pocket so you can get your boots. “fine i guess i’ll just take it”
as soon as your hand got close enough, you felt ony yank your arm towards him. his legs not missing a step as he practically dragged you to the family bathroom with him. as he let you go you quickly began raising your voice at him to show your frustration. “you just embarrassed me in there are you crazy? pull your fucking wallet out and get me my boots ony. or are you too broke?” you provoked him with a smirk, your heart beginning to race as you watched a smirk grow on his lips too. “you askin or you telling me mama?”
you were clearly telling him, but you didn’t dare answer his question. dread running through your veins as ony quietly walked behind you in the mirror over the sink. “i knew you was a little spoiled, but ian know you was this bad” your palms began to sweat as you listened to your boyfriends deep voice caress your ears. “m…m’not spoiled” ony ignored you, lightly grabbing the back of your neck before slowly bending you over the sink. of course you let him, his change in demeanor making your pussy soak through your panties. his eyes never left yours in the mirror, a stern look on his face as he slowly began to pull on the waistband on his sweats.
“i know your parents liked t’feed into that bad attitude, buying you whatever your spoiled lil heart wanted” ony slid your panties down as he spoke, his hard dick rubbing against your ass before be began to line himself up with your entrance.
“but i’m not them” he thrusted into you fully, not bothering to cover your mouth from the loud cry you let out into the air. the stinging stretch of his dick without prep made tears immediately well in your eyes as ony fucked you at an unrelenting pace. “you gon learn how to talk t’me cause ian gon give you whatever you want, but ima give you what you need” his thrusts were deep and robust as you tried your hardest not to scream. ony just watched you through the mirror, brown eyes raking over your pretty face and body as he finished his statement.
“right now what you need is a lesson, and im a damn good teacher mama”
it only took fifteen minutes for ony to have you whipped into shape. your legs wobbling at the two of you walked to the car from the mall. you could’ve swore you were hearing little squelching sounds coming from your pussy as ony’s thick load leaked out of you and onto your panties. like the gentleman he is, ony opened your door for you. giving you a kind smile before watching you sit down and put on your seatbelt. as he made his way to his side of the car, he opened the door and threw a small bag holding a new pair of sweatpants in the back before sitting down in his seat. “how you feel princess? been quiet since we left the mall”
you’re eyes quickly moved to his face, his smirk making butterflies move about in your stomach as you quietly replied. “m’fine daddy. want some ice cream” ony’s face quickly went from happy to stern, making your arousal begin to grow at the power he had over you. “c-can we get ice cream please baby?” a small smile grew on his face again as he started the car. ony put a strong hand on your thigh as he pulled out of the parking lot with one hand. “of course we can mama, being so polite” a smile spread onto your face now as you watched your boyfriend drive in the direction of the nearby ice cream shop.
maybe being good wasn’t so bad.
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nightlyrequiem · 4 months ago
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General and Relationship Headcanons
Mostly just me rambling about Valeria because she’s all I think about all day everyday <3
This is pretty unstructured
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Valeria Garza was a mean girl in high school. She wasn’t popular by any means, she was just really mean and aggressive. She had a habit of getting into physical fights. She’d swing on anybody, boy or girl.
She’s a raging lesbian. (I don’t make the rules.) She probably hasn’t had many girlfriends though because Las Almas has a smaller, more traditional population. During her military days I can definitely see her hooking up with at least one of the other women in her unit, fraternization be damned. It ended when the woman didn’t want anything serious.
She had no romantic or sexual relations with Alejandro. I refuse to entertain the idea at all for my own sake.
I like to think she’s 5’6 to 5’7 and around 135lbs. Perhaps 140lbs. Shes around the same age as Alejandro and Rudy. You have to have around 22 years of experience to become a colonel, which Alejandro is, so that sets them around their late thirties to forties. I think Valeria sits at 38.
She has a short temper and not much patience. Especially with the men who work for her. (And men in general.) She feels pressured to make them afraid of her because since she’s a woman she knows they don’t respect her as much as they would a man. She’s not afraid to stab people in the back and she believes everyone is like that. Loyalty can be bought by the highest bidder so she’s always prepared for a betrayal.
The general public don’t know that she’s El Sin Nombre, and most of her own cartel are unaware as well. Only three or four get the privilege of knowing and even then she doesn’t trust them completely.
The cartel wasn’t as influential before she took it over. La Araña liked to do business under the table and out of sight if he could. Because of that, it was smaller. Still making bank but not as much as it could in Valeria’s opinion. She saw an opportunity to line her own pockets and make Las Almas just a little stronger. She used bribery, violence, and fear to her advantage. Killing and displaying anyone who got in her way and building important building to gain public support. All while hiding behind the Sicaria title.
She grew up poorer than the other children. Money is one of her biggest motivators. She was always envious of the other kids who got to go on trips or get new things often. She felt she was dealt a bad hand in life and it turned her bitter. Because she didn’t grow up with a lot of money I think she has spending guilt. She’ll splurge sometimes but she doesn’t own five fancy cars and a huge house. She probably has a smaller private property somewhere and conducts her business at Diego’s villa.
She’s an attractive woman, and she knows it. She’ll still put on a little makeup though. She’ll touch up her brows and put on mascara. She has no one to impress but she knows she’ll be taken more seriously if she’s perceived as attractive.
Valeria doesn’t do flings. Shes not some hopeless romantic, she doesn’t date around hoping to find the one. But, if she’s going to make herself vulnerable to another human being, physically or emotionally then she isn’t going to do it for someone who’s not going to appreciate it. The payoff needs to be worth the price. She learned her lesson.
She’s not the type to be soft and sweet in a relationship. She has her moments of course, but I can’t see her constantly calling you pet names and clinging to you. Her love language is acts of service. She’ll cook you food, bring you something to drink if you mention being thirsty, simple things she can do to make your life a little more convenient. If her you happen to be someone in her cartel she’ll show she cares by keeping a closer eye on you.
One of the men keeps making you uncomfortable? She’ll make sure you don’t have to interact with him. She’ll give you safer tasks and pay you a little more than the others. She might try to convince you to just quit all together. You’d be safer and happier tending to the home, she’s sure. She also just wants you to be financially dependent on her to make it harder to leave. Not that you’d want to. Shes a great girlfriend.
Just not during fights. She loves you but she has a nasty habit of blowing up at you. She’ll say things she knows will hurt you. There’s also the fact that she works a lot. She puts a lot of her time into the cartel. In keeping it going. You might feel lonely and neglected while with her.
She does love you. Even if she calls you replaceable she doesn’t mean it. If you get fed up and try to leave she’ll pull out the crocodile tears. It’s undignified, but she’s convincing enough with her promises to change and her woe-is-me act that you’d feel too guilty to leave.
If that doesn’t work she’ll turn to the only other thing she knows, threats of violence.
She also has jealously issues. She is territorial. She doesn’t make it obvious but she’s jealous of your friends. She doesn’t like your male friends even if you’re a lesbian yourself, and she views your female friends as potential competition regardless of their sexual orientation.
She won’t whine about it, but if you spend too much time with your friends she’ll take it out on you without telling you why. She’ll be snappy, give you the cold shoulder. Which ultimately leads into another fight. She doesn’t understand why you need friends. She doesn’t have friends and she’s fine.
She’ll make it up to you by buying you gifts. She’s not one to spend frivolously but she’ll drop a pretty penny on something if she thinks it will make you forgive her. You mentioned an article of clothing in a passing conversation five weeks ago? Well Valeria remembered and now it’s carefully folded up on the bed waiting for you. She sees a piece of jewellery that she knows you’ll like? It’s yours, but only if you forgive her.
Her favourite colour is pink. Her bedsheets are pink. Her nails are canonically pink. I don’t make the rules, her favourite colour is pink.
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wihellib · 22 days ago
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My Overall Thoughts On 1st Anniversary
The 1st anniversary of What in “Hell” is Bad has come and gone and I wanted to talk about it.
TLDR: It was not great.
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The whole point of an anniversary in gacha games is for the developers to show their appreciation to the players and thank them for their continued support. And the easiest way to do that is by being generous with their rewards. And PrettyBusy did not do that with this anniversary login event. These are really bad rewards for an anniversary. Not a single gacha currency was given. No Solomon Seals, or Red Keys. Even the stingiest gachas I’ve played would at least give a free ten-pull for anniversary, but not PrettyBusy. It was very disappointing.
We did receive the A+ Jjok/Rin on the 7th day, but he’s mainly in his Jjok red lump form and he doesn’t have any voice lines (he speaks like an animal crossing character for some reason), so that was also a let down. I said this before, and I’ll say it again. Jjok would have worked really well for an April Fool’s joke, especially since Ppyong/Juno was released for April Fools previously. But he wasn’t a great gift for anniversary.
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We got a King group chat (seen here) for anniversary. It was nice and seems to be the norm going forward for special events. Then, each of the nobles got a new chat for anniversary. I like that they didn’t leave anybody out. They were sweet messages.
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They released a Sitri/Satan event, which was fine, lore is always interesting. It was more of a Sitri event than a Satan one, though, which is odd since they literally just had a Sitri event. It would have been better to focus the event on one of the main characters in WHB, i.e. one of the Kings, i.e. Satan.
We also got an artifact as a reward for completing the event, which gives you Solomon’s Seals once a week, which sounds really good, but-
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You only get one Solomon’s Seal a week. So, in one whole year, you can get a whopping single pull. Just why.
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Asmodeus, the final Demon King, was added to the game during anniversary. His release was anticlimactic/unfinished to me compared to Lucifer’s and Belphegor’s. No introductory event, no new noble, no glimpse at Abaddon. Just his Selfie Solomon Seals banner. It’s just like… is that it?
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They posted a special Solomon Seals banner that included all released characters, even paywalled ones from the Nightmare Pass. If you pulled 100 times, then you could choose to guarantee a specific character, again including paywalled Nightmare Pass characters. This was interesting and something that I didn’t expect.
The 5000 seals to get the guaranteed character was very steep, though, considering how hard it is to get seals. I think 3500 would have been a lot better as a discount/reward for anniversary.
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There was a discount on certain items, like Solomon Seals, which was a good deal if you were willing to spend money on the game. Though, they should have made it so you could buy multiple packs to get enough seals for the guaranteed character, rather than limiting it to just one purchase.
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renhanaschewtoy · 8 days ago
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Favorite Bartender
This one also got away from me OTZ I hope I did okay with Strade. Pardon my translation all I have is Google. I'll write Ren the cosplay handler when I get back from a con next week. If you're at Colossal North lmk! 💖 NSFW MDNI
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There was something endearing about dive bars, there was something exclusive about them in their own right. People knew each other, there was a decorum of understanding. Regulars were their own type and new folk, out of towners, well- they usually couldn’t appreciate it fully. The Braying Mule was well and good, always rife with interesting people, but nobody could be “on” all the time. Strade knew that. In his own time, on the quiet nights he decided to be out but lay low, not on the prowl, not looking for an easy bright eyed mark, he was in this dive bar. The name didn’t even matter, the sign was so worn it had been taken down in a storm years ago- the owner just never bothered with it. Regulars kept business in order and they helped keep the place in check. Strade included himself in that roster. Granted nobody really knew him, all by his design. But he was endearing, he was liked here. Maybe it was just nice to shed away a little, wear a different mask.
And sometimes, even he had to admit, the acrid smell of the place reminded Strade of his own little projects. Pushing open the door, Strade moseyed up to the bar, giving a little nod and grin to a few other regulars who greeted him similarly or with a small wave or raise of a glass. Settling on an old worn stool, he leaned on the sticky lacquered wood and inspected the beer taps.
“You can stare at ‘em from sun up to sun down, they still haven’t gotten that funny sounding beer you keep trying to pitch.”
A teasing lilt of a voice draws his amber gaze over to your form shouldering the door behind the door open dragging a bucket of ice to dump into the bin and let the metal lid clatter shut. A grin pulls your lips as always. Ah- you. The feisty bartender who wasn’t afraid to talk shit to anybody, get their hands dirty if need be, keep the establishment and all in it in line with a way that was firm but fair. Admirable. “Ah, liebling, I didn’t know you were working tonight!” Strade mirrors your grin with a warm chuckle.
That was bullshit.
He knew your schedule.
He preferred to be here when you were here.
Though of course, sometimes he had to skip out or change it up so nobody, or you, got wise.
You give a playful roll of your eyes as you deftly pluck a stein and pull a tab with the glass tilted at the perfect practiced angle. A rich dark dark beer sits in front of him on an old cardboard coaster so worn it should likely be trash at this point. “It isn’t the one you were talking about but…you must’ve worn him down. He got a German beer.”
“You spoil me!”
“All I did was pour it.” You chuckle and lean against the back of the bar folding your arms expectantly, awaiting his verdict. Maybe it was because it was your job to serve him but Strade liked the attention you paid to him. It was different from the other patrons and regulars. You didn’t snap at him, your lips didn’t curl in a sneer at him, you didn’t wave him off. No- you paid attention, you listened, you participated. All beautiful qualities wrapped up into once very enticing package. Strade gives a little contented sigh before lifting the glass to his lips and taking a healthy swig, setting the glass down and wiping the foam from the corner his lips with his thumb.
“Hmm…it’s good. Strong.” Strade comments with a nod of approval before lifting his eyes to see you look some pleased with yourself about it. You could say all you wanted, but Strade picked up your tells. You were probably the one bothering the owner enough about getting a keg of something for him. You sweet little thing, you. “Do you know what it is?” He leans forward on his elbows with a tilt of his head as a lazy grin curls his lips. You look away and shrug.
“I dunno something something doppelbock or whatever.” You fib lamely, pretending as if you didn’t care, as if you weren’t pleased with your little stripe of success. Strade huffs a chuckle and leans back on the stool giving a hum of acknowledgement as he takes another sip. “How much do I owe you then?”
“Nah, on the house.” He knew that was coming, you always give him a few freebies here and there under the usual saying that everyone gets a free beer here and there with their regular patronage. But that usually only held after he had one or two, not just off rip. He gives you that disarming smile that makes most women swoon. It isn’t that you’re immune to it perse, rather a little more used to it. A motion of endearment to match your own. Strade watches you idly bustle around the bar, serving other customers, fetching fresh bottles, wiping down the bar- though the latter, it didn’t matter how much elbow grease you used. Occasionally he watches whatever is playing on the TVs around the joint, sipping his beer- of which you never let stay empty for too long. You always insisted it was muscle memory and your years of working but Strade noticed that he was given far better attention.
Drumming his fingers on the bar, he lazily looks to you, “It’s a slow night.” He muses thoughtfully, “Do a shot with me. It’s too lonely to alone.” His grin splits to show a flash of teeth and you chuckle, setting down a few clean pint glasses with a shake of your head as you lift a small, narrow can to your lips.
“Sorry, Strade. I don’t drink on the job.” You admit easily with a languid shrug as you take a few sip, Strade’s eyes glimpsing down to the column of your throat as it works to swallow your energy drink. He wonders what your throat might feel like in his grip, how smooth the skin would be against he callouses of his palms. How your pulse would flutter if he applied just the right amount of pressure. If he kissed that soft, unblemished skin, perhaps left marks. What did you like, he wondered? Did you prefer to be taken soft and gentle, peppered with praise and coos of endearment? Or did you like to be roughed up, bruising grips and mottled marks to decorate your skin while you’re growled filth at and degraded? It was a curious thought he entertained quite often, even so much as when he did take a victim home, sometimes he would imagine you when they were face down in the cheap foam mattress, when their hair was in his hand as he bucked his hips into their mouths…but you’d be different. You were different.
“Mmm…what a shame. You aren’t allowed to have a little fun?” Strade flutters his eyes for a moment to focus back on you, with a curious little brow arched on your face as you caught him daydreaming for but a moment. “Come on, it can be our little secret.” He teases mock conspiratorily, leaning towards you on the bar as. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“Ah, I just don’t wanna risk getting messy on the clock.”
“One shot won’t fuck you up, liebling. You’re made of stronger stuff.”
“...You’re not going to let up until I do, eh?”
Strade pretends to look half heartedly apologetic but you both know he isn’t in the slightest. And to him a foot in the door is a foot in the door, sure- a shot on your shift is but an inch and he would just love to take your world. To become your world. He watches you give an exaggerated sigh of defeat and roll of your eyes before a playful smirk pulls your lips while you fish two shot glasses and begin to fill them. 
Taking you, owning you, breaking you- it’s all part of the same pipe dream. As tempted as Strade is, as easy as it would be; you had family and friends, you had a wide social circle that was sure to garner attention with your disappearance. And he would be directly connected to you with this little song and dance routine he’s come to adore so. Doing such to you is a thrilling danger he can only flirt with but never act on. And that’s part of the allure of it all, of you. The shot glass is pushed in front of him, some of the liquor spilling over the rim before he picks it up and meets you half way in a cheers. “To our little secret.” He grins and you both tap your glasses on the bar twice before clinking your glass against his, downing your shot with the same practiced ease that Strade does. Strade watches you exhale through your nose before shooting him a smirk. “See? And you’re fine!” He chimes and you roll your eyes playfully before scooping up the dirty shot glasses.
Strade shuffles up beside you, easily stringing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side. He smells of the beer you poured him, of lingering cigar smoke, a cologne of spice and musk that's as oddly comforting as it was masculine. “I'm…uh, just around back that way.” You mutter with a blush rising over your cheeks and pointing towards the back of the block. Strade chuckles to himself and nods, leading and preening at the feel of you leaning against him in kind. His large hand gives you shoulder an affectionate squeeze as you walk with some amicable conversation and goofing as usual, Strade's charm laid on a little thicker as he feigns a slur as if it was all your pours that impacted him so.
Hours tick and tock on by before you’re hollering last call for the bar. Strade settles up his tab and leaves you hefty tip that you, as always, try to give at least part of it back. Strade shakes his head, running a hand through his wavy chestnut hair. “You’ve earned it.” Strade insists as you pout at him before begrudgingly pocket the money. Not that you weren’t grateful but it felt excessive. Not that it mattered to him. “Hm…Let me walk you to your car.” Strade hums as he stands from the stool and fixes you with an expectant look.
“What? I’m not going to be done cleaning up here for like…another hour. I’ll be fine. I do it all the time. I’ve got my means.” You reply, waving him off as you begin to collect empty bottles and discarded napkins or coasters around the establishment. Strade’s huff is brief, but he rolls his shoulders back. Maybe he was being gluttonous after convincing you to break one little rule. “Besides, nobody but staff after we’re closed.”
“We already share one little secret, what’s one more? Surely some help and getting home sooner would be nice?” Strade urges, already beginning to upturn some barstools on other tables and onto the bar counter. Seeing you pause and chew your lip, seeing him already being able to sink his hooks in you, in any little way, is simply delightful. You play tough, you’re feisty, but clearly you like being looked after, like the attention he grants you. But you relent and give him a little smile that curls your lips, looking almost bashful. Strade gets a better look of behind the bar, be a little closer, be a little more alone with you and ultimately that’s all this was about really. Fostering trust, drawing you closer. Though it felt as if he was more in your orbit than anything but he was loathe to give up that control. This could only go so far, after all. Eventually you both finish up with your tasks about closing down the bar and you pull keys out of your pocket to lock up the doors as Strade waits behind you, hands leisurely in his pockets while he takes in the stillness of the night, or rather early morning. As if you two were the only people left alive for a moment.
“Ah, your chariot, liebling. Be safe getting home.” Strade grins as you unlock your car and he reaches for your door with a playful flourish and bow. You snicker to yourself, that ever charming grin pulling on your lips as you move to tuck into the driver's seat. He closes the door as your car rumbles to light and you give a shy little wave before pulling away which Strade returns. 
Fuck does he want more. Want you. Standing there in the empty back lot he gives himself a moment to envision you again. Spattered in warm, sticky blood…begging under his hands for mercy…what kind didn't matter, tears beading your lashes, the way your eyes would roll back and flutter in agony or pleasure… Strade’s cock begins to stiffen in his pants as a shaky sigh parts his lips, lidded gaze watching your taillights disappear down the street.
×××
Perhaps he couldn't do all he wanted.
But there were some he could.
Coincidences were funny things, unexpected, sometimes happy, sometimes messy, Strade usually embraced them with his large open arms. The confidence of a man who lived and knew that he could spin just about any scenario to his favor. Tonight was a night he opted not to go to your humble bar. Sometimes, distance made the heart grow fonder after all and Strade couldn’t bear to let you make him go soft. Well…you usually had a different lingering affect but that wasn’t here nor there. There were some critical things he wanted that you simply couldn’t satisfy. Strade knew better. Nobody should shit where they eat. Strade was many things but he wasn’t stupid. So tonight was a little more routine, a little more…designed for the inclinations that you couldn’t sate. But Strade could pretend through perhaps someone who looked a smidge like you.
Oh goddammit. God, of course he would come over and say something- you made a point to make eye contact. You suck in a breath through your teeth and force a smile as you turn to look at Strade; toothy grin on his face and holding his stein close to his chest. “Hey Strade. Yeah, uh…got cut early so figured I’d have a night out.” You shrug, unable to hold his honey colored gaze for too long which seems to raise his brows, a curious twinkle in his eye as he sets his mug down on the table beside your glass as you idly poke at the straw and shift the ice around. The woman he had been chatting up wasn’t beside him but you could feel her eyes prickling at the back of your neck.
At a different bar across town, Strade was posted up a heavy glass stein laden with a dark doppelbock like you had last served him. Fortunate that the bar served something similar but not quite the same. It seemed to be the theme of the night as he chattered up an oblivious and bubbly woman, they had hair just a few shades off from your own- too (short/long) to quite fit you but Strade could make do. Their eyes were a darker tinge of (color) from your own, their smile didn’t carry that unspoken sarcasm, her clothes nearly polar opposite but that was the least of his concerns. Those certainly didn’t matter at all. “A shame you got stood up, truly. But I will say- their loss is certainly my victory.” Strade chuckles smoothly as the woman gives a titter of laughter, covering her painted lips with her hand trying to be coquettish. He leans in to murmur the final string of words that will put the nail in the coffin.
“Hey- uh…can I get a (preferred drink)? Thanks.”
Strade would know that voice anywhere. What were you doing here? Today was usually another one of your closing shifts. His attention falters as he looks over to you and catches you glimpsing at him with a rather annoyed side eye before turning your attention back to the bartender. Taking your drink you flash the bartender a grateful smile and slip your tip on the bar before quickly turning on your heel to disappear into the throngs of other people in the bar. Your lips set in a tight line as you skulked over to your friend settled up at one of the tall tables and you leaned against it with a bitter sigh.
You had no right to feel this way, to feel jealous. Strade was a regular, he was a patron where you worked. You weren’t blind, you knew he was good with his words, you knew he was charming. You naturally had tripped up at his charms but felt damn good that you’d never gone ass over tea kettle for them. Maybe it was foolish to think you had chemistry. Maybe it was stupid to have a secret little self rule not to date regulars- after all there were plenty of other bars. But seeing him lean over that woman, being so close to her, that lazy little grin he often gave you, the way the woman looked up at him so enamored…it made your stomach twist in taut knots. Your friend raises a brow inquisitively that you simply shoot them a look that makes them swallow their words as you raise your glass to your lips for a sip.
“Buddy! I didn’t know you would be here! What a nice surprise.”
“A night out, well- I’d say that’s a good reward for you, hm? Be served rather than serving? I could never forgive myself if I missed an opportunity to buy you a drink myself.” Strade places a hand to his heart in playful theatrics that for a moment make you forget your sour mood and a small smile quirk your lips.
“I mean, I’d hate to interrupt your night. You seemed pretty uh…busy.” You’d cringe at the delivery of your own words, a small grimace crinkles your nose for but a moment as your shoulders stiffen. It takes all Strade has not to let smug satisfaction come over him as he hears the bitterness tinge your statement. You were jealous. Oh, he relished in that, he adored it even. You simply had a way of always just making his evenings. Elation rose in his chest as a better opportunity presented itself in you. Sure- your beautiful blood would never paint his basement but if Strade played his cards right, he was more than certain he could make you scream and cry in other ways.
“And miss such an occasion? Please. This was a boring night until you came along. As always.” Strade replies smoothly with a toothy grin, “It isn’t every night we get to be on the same side of the bar.” And with any luck he can get you all to himself. Play the right cards, say the right things, get you wrapped around his finger, or his cock- whatever worked. You return his smile, your shoulders relaxing as you look up at Strade and give a little bob of your head to relent.
“...Yeah, yeah you’re right. It could be fun.”
“Of course it’ll be fun, have you met me?” Strade gives you a little wink before being interrupted by the woman who decides she’s had enough of being sidelined.
“Uhmm…I thought we were leaving?” Her arms wind around Strade’s arm, pressing herself against him with an exaggerated pout, trying to set a tone as you simply look between Strade and the woman, as Strade simply arches a brow to her, and your friend raises their brows to their hairline, sipping their drink with rapt attention as if watching some sort of reality TV program.
“Hmm? Mein Gott, wie peinlich…” Strade mutters for but a moment, his words and tone are genuine though some irritation belies the sheepish look he forces onto his rugged features. “Just a moment, buddy.” Strade gives your shoulder that same squeeze as the nights before as he places a hand firmly on the other woman’s back and leads her away from the table. Your throat grows tight again with an irritated exhale.
The night carries on, you getting a little bolder with each drink, every shared shot as you laughed and joked, growing a more and more affectionate with each little sip of courage Strade was happy to give you. But you were smart, you didn’t want to wake up hungover and with no recollection of this night. You wanted to remember whatever it was that you got from him, be it another simple walk to your car and a night of revelry or if it was tangled up in either of your bedsheets. And Strade was all too happy to oblige, watching you flaunt your mettle in the bar but being careful all the same as not to lose your head. Strade wanted you to cut loose. Wanted you to be as untethered and wild as possible. But maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Your friend had since excused themself quietly- reading the room and sending you a knowing little wink and wave that you gleefully grinned at.
Unbeknownst to you, ever the opportunist, Strade wasn’t willing to let the other woman go either. After leading her out through the alley and cracking her head hard enough to the wall to hear the skull fracture, she was swiftly bound, gagged and deposited in his trunk. A midnight snack for a later date. So when he returned with a reddened cheek, he had an easy story to spin.
“The fuck happened to you? Christ.” You remark, instinctively reaching out to his cheek before retracting your hand.
“Ah…well, she didn’t quite take so well to being told I…wasn’t interested.” Strade remarks with a roll of his broad shoulders and he could almost see that flicker of approval in your eyes that he’d opted to spend his night with you instead.
“Feels like I should be the one buying you a drink.” You quip playfully, nudging him with your elbow, you’re careful with your contact now, you don’t want to seem too eager. And that’s fine. Strade flashes you a grin of pearly whites before slinging an arm around your shoulder again to tug you close in a side hug again.
“No, no, no, I am a man of my word, liebling. Tonight is all about showing you a good time.” Strade chuckles warmly, the timbre of his voice sending a shudder down his spine that he can feel against his built frame. His hand slips from your shoulder to the cinch of your waist this time with a firmer squeeze, possessive. And you leaned in. Like he knew you would.
“I could go for a cigarette right about now…care to join me?” Strade’s voice is low in your ear, warm breath fanning over the side of your neck as he carefully tucks a strand of (color, type) hair behind your ear before his hand slips down past your hip to slip itself into your back pocket. A large hand gropes the plush of your ass through the denim eliciting a sharp inhale from you, a rosy hue blooming over your cheeks as you bob your head and let him guide you out the back door as the crisp night air meets your exposed skin.
“I didn’t know you smoke.” You look up at him curiously as Strade tucks the two of you into the cover of an empty side alley.
“There’s much you don’t know about me yet, liebling. But I could say the same for you, no?” Strade’s eyes glance to the side before returning back to you, leaning against the brick wall so cavalier, so unaware of what Strade could do to you, all he wants to do to you.
But he would take this, there was an outlet for later.
Sweet serendipity.
Your eyes drift up as you see Strade’s frame looming over you, silhouetted by the moon. Suddenly aware of how close he is to you, that you can smell his cologne again and your breath hitches slightly before you swallow thickly. “...Stra–mmpf!” His name is barely off your tongue before his lips crash onto your own. Hungry and all consuming as Strade descends upon you, devouring you as he presses you back against the cold brick wall, pinning you to it and the bulk of his body. His teeth nip at your lower lip, demanding entry that your foggy brain is powerless but to comply to. You can taste the bitterness of beer on his tongue and he can taste the sweetness of whatever you had been ordering on his tab. Strade’s groan is swallowed as your arms lift to string around his neck, fingers carding through his hair and nails raking against his scalp. He feels your back arch, pressing your body closer to his own, Strade lets a low growl at your willing surrender as he shifts a thigh between your legs, applying pressure to your aching core. Strade’s lips leave your kiss swollen lips to let you pant and catch your breath, rivulets of spit connecting your mouths as your lidded, glassy eyes slowly lift to Strade.
“Look at you, liebling…” Strade coos almost mockingly and it makes something tighten in you abdomen  as the vice grip on your hips moves you lightly as if to help you ride his thigh that pulls a ragged moan from your throat. “Mmm…needy, hm? Don’t think I didn’t see that…that look from before…” Strade mutters as he dips his head to kiss along the curve of your jaw down to your throat, teeth nipping and tongue laving at the spots to leave a litany of marks in his wake. Little mewls leave your lips as you squirm under his grip, wanting to be closer, trying to form words but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. “...Don’t be embarrassed. I liked it…I’m flattered.” Strade purrs as he feels your hips buck against his thigh eagerly, hands fisting his wavy tresses that sends shockwaves straight to his cock that strains against the zipper.
Large hands drift to the button of your jeans, popping them open and the draw of your zipper being pulled down that makes your lashes flutter. “W-Wait…woah, St-Strade…not here, I-”
“Mmm? Why not here?” He teases, dragging the fabric down the smooth skin of your thighs that you suddenly tried to clamp shut. “No, no…” He tutts softly, prying them back apart, “Wouldn’t this be just so perfect? We are in private…and if someone were to see, well…” His tone is alight with amusement, “They could be jealous instead…that I have you.” Your nervous eyes can’t tear themselves away from the sight of Strade crouching between your legs, forcing you to lean back against the wall in nothing but your underwear that he moves about to expose your throbbing, eager sex. “Behave, liebling…I don’t do this for just anybody.” And that might be one of the truest things he’s ever said. Control was always a given, Strade to take what he wanted, perhaps you made him feel…generous. All the attention you’ve fawned upon him in your own way, how pliant you showed him you could be- and only for him, that was something that deserved to be rewarded. To melt you, make you more malleable in his hands. His tongue traces shapes and patterns along your sensitive flesh, one hand keeping your thighs apart before one disappears to nudge a finger at your entrance before easing a finger in, crooking it against that spongy spot of nerves before thrusting slowly as he spelled his own name with his tongue in a way that had you fighting against bucking your hips.
“F-Fuck…St- shit..! Strade…!” Your breath fans out in ragged pants as you watch him lave attention over a bundle of nerves paired with a thrusting digit that almost has your knees buckling. “...’m gonna…!” You keen eagerly, lashes fluttering as he feasts upon you wetly, soft sounds in the alley with your muffled moans as you bit down into your knuckle to feebly stifle your wanton sounds. Pressure builds and coils tight in your belly, flirting with the edge of euphoria until Strade bites the inside of your thigh eliciting a yelp from you. “The fuck?!” Strade stands up fast, with a dexterity and agility that didn’t match his size and stature, that had your body falter slightly against the bricks. Strade’s hand holds your chin in place  as he looks down at your lips and your furrowed brow. Your pleading was so sweet, so beautiful…god- he could make you beg more. But for now…well, Strade has his ways, as always. “Strade, please…” You groan and he seems amused all the more.
“Open your mouth.”
“Wh..huh?”
“Open, liebling. I won’t ask again.” There’s an authoritative edge to his voice that has your core throbbing, leaking as you’re exposed in the alley. The thrill of it all sending lightning through your veins as you slowly part your trembling lips. Strade gives a low, rumbling hum of approval before spitting onto your tongue making heat flood your cheeks and a humiliated whine in the back of your throat. “Swallow. You should be grateful…you taste so good.” Strade watches you close your mouth, your throat bob slowly as you swallow and sigh before your breath is stolen from your lungs again in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moan greedily. Parting for air is brief as you feel large calloused hands gripping your waist to pull you further upright, shuffle you around until your front is pressed to the brick, the fat of your cheek pressed to the cold bite of brick but Strade seems to mind the pressure and strength he holds over you as you’re bent, pants now pooled around your ankles but you’re too far gone to care. You arch your back with purpose, pressing your ass back against his hardened cock with an eager obedience that Strade adored so.
“So good for me, liebling…like you were made for me…” Strade huffs as you hear the soft clink of his belt buckle coming undone, a calloused hand groping the fat of your ass before shifting your underwear to meet with your jeans below you before you feel the bulbous head of his cock press against you. The hand on your ass moves to grip your hip and keep you steady while the other trails up the beautiful curve of your spine, up the nape of your neck before his fingers tangle in your hair, the grip is firm enough to sting a little but not hurt. Strade could if he wanted to, temptation was there most certainly but he’d go slow for you. Breaking you in piece by piece with rough affections that would leave you satisfied. He could feel how eagerly you were, how badly you wanted this, and how readily you responded to his means. You whine with his fingers in your hair, pressing your hips back and urging him in. And that’s all Strade needs, to have you wrapped around him. And wrapped around him you will be. Until you are bent and broken, full and delirious; treated better than anyone one else. You were something different, something special. Untouchable but in a way immortal to Strade.
Maybe you could be something… special and more permanent.
He was already flirting with something similar in Ren back home but you…oh, what fun it could all be. Thoughts for another day.
With a sudden snap of his hips, Strade buries himself in you with a brutal thrust that punches the air from your lungs and has you choking on air as your body quivers at the sudden intrusion. “Ich kann fühlen wie du dich nach mir sehnst (I can feel you aching for me)…”Strade huffs with a smug smirk curling the corners of his lips as he sets a ruthless pace, the wet sound of skin colliding with skin, his heavy sac slapping against you with each push of his hips that you reciprocated in kind as your teeth dug into your lower lip trying to keep your sounds hushed but your body betrayed you. Strade bent over your back nipping at your ear as he stilled to more shallow thrusts to torture you further, “Just imagine, Liebling…someone seeing you spread out here for me…” He lilts in that low silken tone that has your walls clenching around him, fluttering with each filthy, honeyed word that drips from his lips. “Just a perfect little cock sleeve…just for me, yes?” Punctuated by a deliberate roll of his hips that has your lashes fluttering and eyes threatening to roll back into your skull. A sharp tug to your hair leaves your mouth agape as you tighten around his dick again with a breathy groan. “...Say it.”
“Sh-shit…please! Yes, please!” You nearly sobbed, desperation and want clouding all rational thought as you begged Strade, giving him the allowance to do as he pleased with you. Soft mutterings in his mother tongue left his lips; an assortment of praise, of filth, obscenities as his thrusting became staccato before a long, low growl parted Strade’s lips, muffled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Spilling into you with rivulets of thick, viscous cum while your walls milked him greedily, your own orgasm threatening to have your knees to collapse around you but Strade was quick to move his thick arms around your middle to keep you up, keep you in place as he pumped you full of his cum until it dripped out of you obscenely, forming a small puddle on the concrete. The vacant alley was only given life by the two of you panting raggedly to catch your breaths, Strade’s grip still a vice you wouldn’t be able to break from.
“Hhnngh!...fuck…just for you!” You manage to choke out pleadingly, trying to push your hips back but Strade halts entirely in a way that makes you whine.
“You can do better than that.”
“I d-don’t…wh…uh…” The brick digs into your palms as you try to collect your addled thoughts, of what words might appease him, “Haah~...mmm…J-Just for you, Strade.” You try as his name seems to be all that can fill the folds of your brain; his taste, his smell, the feel of him felt ingrained into you.
“That’s better…” He croons to you, however the feeling of you throbbing around his aching cock was just as torturous for Strade but he could be patient from time to time, when it counted anyway. Impulse won most of the time. “Taking me so well…” his breathing labored as you could feel him pressed to your back, hips pistoning with newfound vigor as Strade’s hand left your hair to close around your throat. No pressure is applied, simply relishing in the feeling of your erratic pulse as he fucks all coherent thought from your brain as he uses the leverage to bring your face to his in a sloppy kiss. All tongue and teeth, as if to consume you whole, that you would be devoured. “Mnnngh…hah…sucking me back in like that…such a slutty little hole…” Strade growls against your mouth as his hips slam against your ass so hard you were certain you’d be bruised by the end of it. “...fill you to the brim…” He huffs, a deep flush had risen from his throat to his cheeks, a heady look that washed over his features as sweat beaded on his brow dampening the curls that fell over his forehead.
“F-Fuck…” You breathe, slowly raising your hands to rest on his forearms, giving them a little tap, “I just…I can’t…” You were still trying to collect your thoughts and you could almost feel him smirk against your skin as you felt his breaths warm your sweat slicked skin.
“...Maybe I can interest you in a nightcap? At my place?” He hums, dislodging himself from your depths with a deep grunt as he watches you quiver and leak. You seem to take stock again, remembering where you are, as you quickly reach to tug up your underwear and jeans, pulling your shirt back down as Strade tucks himself back into his pants and adjusts his belt. You look so pretty like this, embarrassed but thrilled, debauched but dressed again- the tell tale signs of what- or rather who, happened to you, evident on the outside and inside.
“Huh? Oh, no…I don’t think so.” You breathe with a little chuckle and Strade looks at you, a dark and almost hollow look upon his face but for a minute that you seem to misinterpret. “Just cause my place is closer. C’mon.” You give him that fond, disarming smile as you dare to reach for his hand and lead him to the parking lot that has the brief uptick of annoyance assuaged from Strade entirely at your quick turnabout. He pushes a small smile on his lips before raising a hand to cup your jaw before holding the back of your skull and pressing another searing kiss to your lips.
“Give me your address and get ready for me…I just have to stop home very quickly. But I will be there.”
“If you stand me up, I’m pouring you Malort every time.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, liebling. You said so yourself, you’re just for me now.” He flashes you grin that holds an underlying meaning you can’t quite ferret out, but you giddy stride to your car to do as your told for a promised nightcap.
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luveline · 1 year ago
Note
JADE!!! WE WOULD LOVE TO SEE ANOTHER SPENCER X BADASS GIRL!!! maybe its a quiet day and reader & spencer just chilling and joking around in their little world and the others just watching ahahah
thank you for your request babe, I would love to write more for this pairing if u have requests!! ♡ fem!reader
"What are they doing?" Emily asks, a fierce whisper that carries across the jet. 
"I think they're flirting," JJ whispers back. 
Hotch closes the case file in front of him. There's nothing left to do until they get home but sit here in each other's company. You and Spencer seem to have realised this before anybody else, shoulder to shoulder, a book in his hands. He's slouched with his leg crossed over his knee, taking up the majority of the couch. You seem content to take the brunt of his weight while giggling softly by his ear. 
Hotch can't lie, he's genuinely startled by your behaviour. It's the total opposite of your usual affect.
"That's not flirting," Rossi says without looking up. 
Hotch has to agree. You brush a stray hair from Spencer's shoulder and he doesn't so much as blush, turning the page to show you something particular. You lean in closer still, hand resting now on his shoulder. 
That's not flirting, that's way beyond it. Spencer is practically in your lap, and you —wouldn't hug anyone on your birthday, didn't tell them where you were for four days when you had appendicitis until you were forced, cold, lone wolf you— look like you're about to cuddle him close and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. 
You're in your own little world. 
"I stopped expecting her to push him off twenty minutes ago," Derek says, as seemingly unbothered as Rossi. 
"Don't tell me you knew about this," Emily says incredulously. 
"They've been going on dates." 
"They what?" 
You laugh happily at Spencer's side, pointing at a specific line with the tip of your fingernail. "When asked, Moroscova said that the length of his stay was an act of perjury," you read. 
Spencer laughs at your quotation, sharing a secret smile with you. "That haircut is an act of perjury." 
Your eyes glow with a look Hotch knows well. Haley looked at him like that for years. "Thanks for reading this with me. I know I'm slow." 
"You're not slow. I'm really fast. There's a difference."
It's the definition of young love, Hotch thinks, all those heartfelt reassurances disguised as brags, stolen touches, Spencer's knuckles stroking up and down your outer thigh. 
He turns back to his book and you stare at the side of his face. It's a little heartbreaking. Hotch knows if things don't work out between you, you'll take it hard. Your affection for Spencer has always been in the silent things, undulating, until lately: you listen to him talk when nobody else has the patience, what must amass to hours and hours of stories and statistics; you defend him at every turn, in every precinct in every city; when Spencer has a hard time, you refuse to rest until he feels better. The case before this one, the unsub beat you across the face with the handle of his gun, and you leaned out of the ambulance with your eye glued shut to make sure Spencer got anaesthetic before his stitches. You look at him like he's hanging the moon in real time. 
"Okay, that's too much," Derek says. Hotch detects a hint of brotherly affection in it, but mostly disgust. 
You raise your gaze from Spencer's chest, the breezy smile playing on your lips flattening into a hard line. You send Derek your fiercest glare, him being the first in your line of sight, and Emily gets the shock of her life when you turn and narrow your eyes at her, too. 
Emily smiles widely. "Hey, how's it going over there?" she asks. 
"Why are you guys looking at me?" you ask. 
"You can't guess?" Derek says.
"If I could guess, I wouldn't have asked." 
Hotch gives you a disapproving look. Tone it down, Agent. 
"I just wanna know what's so interesting," you say, leaning into indifference.  
Spencer looks up from his book. "What?" 
"Nothing," you say, your tone gentler in a capacity only profilers might notice. "Don't worry about it."
Spencer sits up and your eyebrows pinch down. Hotch wants to save it and he also doesn't get paid enough. Everything works out in the end, he thinks, not believing himself even slightly as he gets up to make a cup of coffee at the back of the jet. Your sullen tones hardly reach him through the curtain and over the sound of the hot water kettle, Spencer's puzzled reassuring even quieter. 
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writeforfandoms · 1 year ago
Text
Call Me Little Sunshine
Find my John Price masterlist
You've had a bad day, but even from a different country, your husband knows how to make it better.
This is pure comforting fluff. Might give you cavities.
Warnings: Price needs his own warning, swearing, sweetness, established relationship.
John Price x f!reader
Word count: 1k
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You had just thrown yourself on the couch for a bit of dramatic pouting when your phone rang. You groaned out loud, momentarily tempted to ignore it. It was probably something stupid, or a telemarketer, or whatever.
But… it could be your husband. He did sometimes call without warning.
You checked your phone. Unknown number. Could be your husband. Could be just about anybody.
You answered anyway.
“‘Lo?” 
“Princess.” 
You breathed out a soft sigh at the sound of your darling’s voice. “John.” 
“You alright, love?” His voice was rough, like he’d been smoking recently. 
“Well enough.” You shrugged, pushing yourself up from the couch so you could sit. “What about you? What time is it?” 
John blew out a soft breath, amused. “It’s late, and I’m fine,” he reassured you. “No new holes in me.” The faint sounds of a skirmish came through from the other end, and you recognized Kyle’s voice. 
“Do you need to get that?” you asked, amused despite yourself.
There was a moment of silence. “Nope.” John must have moved away from them, because his end of the line got quieter. “Now, princess. Tell me what’s wrong.”
You winced. “Nothing,” you protested, lifting one hand to rub your forehead. 
“I know you better than that,” John murmured, voice pitched lower, soothing. “You can tell me.”
“It’s not important,” you tried. “Especially compared to whatever you’ve got going on.”
“Right now, all I’ve got going on is ignoring a couple idiots,” John countered. “Nothin’ more important than you.”
Your resistance crumbled in the face of that tone and those words. You sighed and gave in, telling him about your frustrations with work. You tried to keep it short, but he kept asking questions. Not letting you get away with giving him the bare minimum. 
“Well,” he finally said once he’d gotten everything out of you he wanted. “Least you’re done for the day.”
“No kidding.” You huffed softly, once again thinking about getting a drink. You deserved a little relaxation, after the day you’d had. “Two more days and it’s the weekend.”
John chuckled softly. “That eager, hm?”
“John, I’m just preventing murder,” you told him, all faux-innocence. “Really.”
He snorted. “Noble of you,” he teased. 
You smiled. It did not escape you that you felt better, that he was responsible for that. “I’m not keeping you up, am I, love?” 
“No.” His voice softened. “Don’t fret ‘bout me, princess.” 
“You know I always do.” 
“I know.” Those simple words carried such weight to them. Regret that you worried, acknowledgement that he couldn’t make you stop, appreciation that you cared enough to fret. 
You’d both talked this over enough times that you both acknowledged the stalemate. You’d fret. He’d ask you not to. Neither of you would give ground. 
And, honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way. Your husband was stubborn, and it was something you loved about him, even when he drove you up the wall. 
“You eaten yet?” 
“No,” you groaned, making a face. “Don’t you start fussing at me from another timezone, love.” 
He chuckled. “Can’t stop me.”
You opened your mouth to retort, but paused. The boys would probably take his side. “I’ll order in,” you decided instead. Giving ground to him, this time. 
“Good girl.” His voice dipped teasingly low, with that extra bit of rasp that he knew did things to you.
“Don’t you dare,” you warned him, sitting up again in alarm. “John.”
“What? Can’t I make sure my princess is feeling better?” He purred through the line.
“You are a damn tease, John Price.” But you couldn’t entirely keep your smile out of your tone. 
“Mm. So you like to remind me.” John took a deep breath, slow and steady. “Go order your dinner, princess. Something special tonight, hm? You deserve it.”
You warmed, unable to stop the fond smile if you tried. Which you didn’t. “Alright, love. Get some sleep tonight.”
“I will.” His voice softened, gently affectionate. “I’ll call again soon.”
“When you can,” you emphasized. “I’ll be here.” 
“Love you,” John murmured.
“Love you too.” You bit back the desire to ask when he’d be home, remind him to stay safe. He knew. And you knew. 
But you still had to take a moment to blink back emotion after the call disconnected. Your wonderful, stubborn, incredible husband.
Huffing to yourself, you ordered food. Something nice, like John said. It was amazing how much better you felt after a little conversation and some food. 
But the best came in the morning, as you were settling in to work. A knock at the door made you get up, cautious at first. Until you saw the flowers carried by a delivery man. 
The bouquet was large, beautiful, with some of your favorites. You stroked a few petals with a smile before you plucked out the card. 
Princess,
You can make it two more days. I’ll call again tonight. Chin up, sweetheart.
The note was not signed, but you didn’t need it to be.
But the thing that really caught you by surprise was the second card. 
I’m not bailing you out or stopping your husband if you get arrested, so call me before you murder anyone. -S
Bonnie, you’re a right saint for putting up with that grump. -J
We’re on his six, don’t worry. See you soon. -K
Eyes watery, smile almost painful, you put both notes on the front of the fridge, flowers in pride of place in the center of the table. Today would be no problem, now. 
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devilander · 4 months ago
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I'm a new to your blog, so maybe you have already written something for this... Soooo angsty Homelander ask. How about a classic fuck or die situation?
Hello, thank you for sending this!
It's hard to imagine Homelander in such a situation; anybody that wants him killed wouldn't waste their time torturing him, but...
If they (the ones who orchestrated it) had leverage, with his s/o's life on the line, then it'd be quite possible—and interesting. It could be a demand for him to fuck his s/o publicly, degrading them as he fucks them...
Or! And more likely, it's Butcher's work and he wants to watch. He wants to savor the advantage he has on Homelander; he would know Homelander's s/o would be fearful, ashamed, humiliated... And perhaps it's more than just Butcher, maybe he convinced, or, likelier, threatened all members of The Boys to watch. Adding to both their pain.
And they, oh how insecure they are. Scared that Homelander wouldn't allow himself to be manipulated by Butcher, that he would rather let them die instead of breaking and bending.
Yet, he does—he loves them, just hadn't said it in words yet. He was preparing for it; how it'd be in such a romantic place, flower petals on the floor, sunset, beautiful enough to stun them, but in his view, nothing compared to the kaleidoscope of love and loving he's ready to give it to you.
The disappointment running through his veins is nothing to compared to the sight of you. The look in your eyes, filled with fear, tears sliding down in their lovely cheeks, lips, meant to be kissed and worshiped, trembling.
He grabs your face—and instantly they know. They'll look at him only. Homelander pulls out his cock, pluging in with care, giving them time to adjust; different from the way they usually fuck, hot and searing, desperate for each other. He'd be gentler, far more gentle than he's even been. It's slow, it's loving. Sweet nothing being whispered in your ear.
"I love you," he says, over and over and over. They say it back, oh so easily they say it back.
When he feels close to coming, he whispers. "I love you more than anyone I've ever loved. For you, everything, anything."
And, as soon as he could, Homelander would pay it back a thousandfold.
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ddollfface · 9 months ago
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𝐀 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲
𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙞 𝙊𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙝𝙞 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨
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Warnings; bad writing, might be ooc (don't come at me lol), not proofread, obsessional behavior, idk if this is really Yandere tbh, honestly, this is just be dipping my toes into fanfiction... If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ I've only watched the tv shows, so all of my information comes from that and the wiki. If anyone knows where to read the manga, then please message me! Also, this is inspired by @mothwingwritings and @yandere-writer-momo ♡
Throughout the series, Katsumi is shown to be loyal to those he deems close and important to him. One of these people is Karate (I suppose, it's a thing, but whatever). Even when faced with people he respects, like Retsu, he refuses to give it up, to deny the power it has. This is shown during the tournament saga where Retsu demands that Katsumi admit that Chinese Kenpō is superior to Karate, of course, he denies it.
Now, what does this say about Katsumi? Well, it shows that when he feels loyalty towards someone/something, he'll cling to it and fight for it until his last breath. Katsumi is strong-willed, and never gives in without a fight; he fights for others' honor. He's been shown to have a vengeance streak, where he'll seek out those he's deemed to have defamed the people he holds dear to him.
He's very smooth with his words and has a boyish charm to him, allowing you to drop your guard when you really shouldn't. His sheepish smile and constant cocky appeal cause you to feel relaxed and underestimate him, forgetting that he's a dangerous man who could snap you in half with his pinky. It's really too easy for him to find where you live, sneak into your apartment, and watch you. All without you noticing; how sweet of you. You don't even realize that Katsumi has grown so attached, not noticing how close he sticks to your side or how his eyes darken whenever you talk to Retsu or Katou (if he ever comes around).
I can imagine Katsumi with most types of darlings, but I think he'd lean towards darlings who are a Good Samaritan. How they show that empathetic behavior solely depends on their personality. You don't have to be energetic and bubbly to be a good person and to help others, instead, you can be quiet and timid. You can be a little colder, but as long as you're willing to step in and help others when they're in need, even if you might put yourself in danger, Katsumi will ultimately find you attractive and court you.
I think that the empathetic characteristic is the root of his attraction, seeing you be so kind and caring just makes his heart swell. He knows you're a good person, and that's what makes you so attractive. Well, you're appearance is also a key factor, but ignore that.
Katsumi just wants someone selfless and willing to put themselves on the line for others, no matter if they know the person or not, as he knows that they'd make a good partner, a good mama. That's ultimately Katsumi's goal in life: to have a family. I subscribe to the headcanon that Katsumi has a breeding kink and he loves children; I don't care what anybody says.
There's no doubt in my mind that he's a loverboy who just wants someone to love, but things go wrong when that love isn't recognized or reciprocated. Not only that, but Katsumi's love can be... overbearing, to say the least. He can get a little too excited, especially when he's around you. And that's when his boyish nature comes in. He becomes too aggressive with his courting tactics (this is similar to Ali Jr. and Baki, me thinks).
These three guys, especially Katsumi, have been shown to be a little blinded by arrogance and their youth (not saying that other characters, who are older, haven't). They're all in their early twenties, and Katsumi being twenty in the Pickle saga, meaning they don't have a lot of experience with women.
Now that we're on the topic of experience, I think that Katsumi has been on dates with women, talked to women, and flirted with women. I mean, look at him. He's attractive, both physically and emotionally, and he's in the prime of his life. Not only that, but he's the adoptive son of Doppo Orochi, though I doubt that matters to most girls, but whatever. This means that he's got money, a lot of it. Doppo's wealth has been reiterated throughout the series that Katsumi is a spoiled kid, and I see that point.
So there's no denying that girls are attracted to him, and I think Katsumi isn't afraid to go up to women; he's quite charismatic. But why doesn't he have a girl? I think that's partially because of his dedication to his martial arts, making it difficult to maintain a relationship, and most girls wouldn't stick around for that. Now, that factor wipes out half of his dating pool, making it difficult for him to have anything but a one-night stand or a few dates.
He can't help but long for someone deeper, long for someone who truly cares for him. Katsumi wants someone who needs him, and relies on him to be provided for, and cared for. He wants to be acknowledged for his hard work, how calloused his hands are, and how good of a leader he strives to be. He just wants someone who'd be his cheerleader, someone who'd support him the way he'd support them.
This drive and desperate need for someone causes him to act irrationally when he finally finds someone even close to his dreams. It doesn't matter where or when you meet, whether it's before or after he's lost his arm, as long as he feels that recognition, he's lovestruck.
(This is where I go off on a tangent, I'm so sorry)
I've read a book called Blink, by Malcolm Gladwell, and it's all about humans and how we think as a species. He goes on and on about this thing called thin slicing. Thin slicing is an ability that all humans have, something we've developed through years of evolution, and it's the ability to make a split-second decision (on a situation or person) based off of little information. According to Gladwell, we do this every day. Thin slicing is fueled by our fight or flight response, more so whether or not we fight, fight, or freeze.
Gladwell says that the moment we make eye contact with someone, or speak a singular word with someone, we've already decided whether or not we like them or not, whether or not we'll befriend them. In multiple studies, Gladwell cites, he says that you can determine whether or not a couple will have a long-lasting relationship just based off of one conversation, a conversation that's no more than a minute long.
It's all about subconscious cues we give off when we speak, much like the phrase 'actions speak louder than words.' Certain cues attract people to each other, unknowing actions that we do that pull others toward us.
Honestly, it's a really interesting thing, and I think that because a lot of Baki men rely on their instincts, and they use thin slicing in every one of their fights, they'll use their instincts to determine who their darlings are. If you were to ask any of the Baki men, in this hypothetical world where they have a darling, I think they wouldn't be able to answer. That they wouldn't know. And that's because it was an instinctual decision, something they knew subconsciously the moment they met you, you, you.
There was just something about you that drew them in, and they would be able to give a broad definition, but they wouldn't be able to tell specifics. And that's the beauty of attraction, so if you think about it, love at first sight is a real thing, yeah?
End of tangent
Because of this, he'll take any one of your interactions and dramatize them. You say that it's cold outside? Now, he thinks you're trying to hint to him that you want his jacket (you don't; you were making small talk). You say that you think his hair looks nice today? Welp, that means you must want to play with his hair, right (Natsue just told you he got a haircut). Hell, your shoulders brush against each other while you two are walking? You're practically telling him that you want a hug! (No, you just were too close to the street).
The point is that any normal reaction or conversation is used to fuel his obsession with you. Within a few weeks of knowing each other, he's thinking that you're going to be the mama of his children. There's no doubt in his mind that you're meant to be. Katsumi will even look at your zodiacs. Did you know that you two are compatible? What a coincidence. It must be fate.
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