#this is basically how their encounter would go

[neerathebrightstar]

An Unhealthy Obsession

Yandere Tim Drake inspired by the song “An Unhealthy Obsession”

SYNOPSIS -> Tim Drake will always remember the day he saw you for the first time as the best coincidence of his life. And you will always remember your second meeting as the thing that doomed you.

Warnings -> This is a work of fiction but beware the themes like stalking, obsession, manipulation, smut, the fic is written mostly in Tim’s pov so an unreliable narrator, sub!Tim Drake, there is a brief mention of things like branding and kidnapping, exhibitionism

MINORS DNI

You will never forget the first time you met Tim Drake - freshly 18, still with hope for a better life in your eyes and incredibly broke. You worked hard in high school and got the opportunity to study in Gotham University on Bruce Wayne’s founded scholarship. You were ecstatic back then, you always thought you would immediately need to go to work after you hit adulthood, and offered with a chance to make something of yourself you didn’t think twice about moving to Gotham despite its title as the most dangerous city in America.

Your parents were skeptical with the whole ordeal, who wouldn’t be terrified with their child moving to Gotham where people were more scared of clowns than guns, but they ultimately let you go when you begged for it enough.

You wished they didn’t, you wished they locked you in a room and binded you to your bed so you wouldn’t go anywhere.

In the end you moved to Gotham all wide eyed, ripe for the taking in the city known for swallowing innocent souls like you. You were hopeful, ready to learn and work even harder for your future.

You thought yourself to be fearless back then. On top of the world and untouchable, with wings made of dreams ready to carry you even higher. You spend your nights before the courses start fantasizing about life when all the riches in the world are at your hand - living in a mansion with a significant other that truly adores you, never wanting for anything. And all that you would achieve through your hard work.

But reality hits you hard and brutally when the assignments start piling up, your professors are cruel and you can barely keep up, not with additional work you have to do after hours to support yourself. The scholarship doesn’t cover your basic necessities and food doesn’t magically appear on one’s plate when they wish it so.

You are constantly tired, overworked and underslept so no one can really blame you when you miss literal Red Robin walking into the 24h diner you work at.

(You didn’t know he was a vigilante back then, you were new in Gotham - you didn’t have the time to learn the names of the entire flock of bats and birds)

You were alone that night, your coworkers already went home and you craved to do the same. You still had to clean up and wait for the next shift to come in and you really hoped that they would hurry - you wanted to take a quick nap before running to campus.

Instead you are met with a bizarre sight of a man dressed entirely in a funny red costume. High black combat boots with black skintight pants and a red top that looked like a girl’s one piece swimsuit. For some reason he was wearing the ugliest yellow belt you ever seen, with pouches fulled to the brim. Was he practicing for a role or something? You highly doubted that, not with the bondage type of straps that were holding a very dramatic cape on his shoulders. Gotham was weird but you never seen people wear costumes from fetish magazines out in the streets like that before. And for fuck’s sakes was he wearing a fucking mask with a beak? You wondered how to politely throw him out without involving very strong words and calling him out on being a prostitute for villains with a vigilante complex but in the end you never had to do so.

The encounter doesn’t linger in your mind past the next morning - sure the guy was weird but polite, you served him his order and he went on his way. You blissfully came back home to your bed after swapping with your coworker to catch a few hours of sleep unaware that you just doomed yourself.

I want to be able to tell you that you came here to read a story of a maniac, an obsessive freak of nature like you all think me to be. But really I am that bad for wanting to protect them? That I saw how they live and decided to give them everything? You all can judge me all you want but the truth is you would have done the same - except you are cowards and I am not afraid of getting my hands dirty for the ones I love.

I would never kill anyone, I know better than that - Bruce taught me better than that. However there are so many ways one’s life can be ruined without depriving them of it. Sometimes one letter is all it takes to fire a man supporting his whole family, to get him banned from working ever again. What does the life of that family look like after that? No one ever thinks of it later, when you have that one annoying employee out of your sight, what use is there in wondering how he fares right? After all you didn’t kill him, you can absolve yourself of all guilt, he deserved it and you showed restraint in letting him see another day.

But his family will fall apart, his children will lose countless opportunities because there is no longer enough funds to support them in pursuing a better, brighter future. You won’t see his wife struggling to make ends meet while her husband uselessly walks around with his resume. And when she leaves him behind to find a better man for her and her children? Will you be there to look at what you have done ?

You see? I don’t need to kill anyone to destroy their life. And if I can do it so easily, who says others cannot do it to them ? It was already happening when I met them - my love was underpaid, overworked and with no real way of making a better living. They could have crumbled like a house of cards with just one gust of wind. A university student, non-Gothamite living on tips and praying their scholarship won’t be taken from them? Poor little thing would have been swallowed by this city if not for me. Don’t judge me yet, I know I sound pretentious. Let me tell you the whole truth and then you are welcome to make your judgment. But know it’s already too late for my love to leave me - I got my claws into them and they are never leaving again.

I met Y/N purely by chance. They were working at a 24h diner located near Crime Alley and I was in my Red Robin armour, freshly after a fight with local gang members who distributed narcotics to children. It was a big case, big enough that Jason asked for help. I was tired, basically a dead weight on my feet. I needed to eat something and drink enough energy drinks so that I would be caffeinated enough to fight god and then make my way back into the Nest. I didn’t want to look for an open corner store - most of them were money laundering spots at this hour anyway and I didn’t feel like throwing punches with spooked clerks. This side of the city was Jason’s problem, he could deal with that later himself.

Usually a superhero vigilante walking into any place at this hour either invoked fear or awe. I was used to calming down civilians that I was not in the local area for villain related business or smiling for pictures. What I was not used to was being unseen, simply ignored. Y/N was the only person in the diner that night and they didn’t spare me a single glance, no lingering looks like people who wanted to play cool often acted. They were just just meticulously cleaning tables and even from where I was standing I could see their eyes were half closed. An underpaid and tired employee is technically not a thing out of ordinary in Gotham - even with the money Bruce pours into this city the hole of poverty seems just never ending. I should have walked out and left that poor person alone. Bruce would have left a pile of money on one of the still messy tables and left it at that. I for some reason couldn’t do that.

I walked over to them and cleared my throat which in consequence immediately made me feel like an asshole. I was not only interrupting their work in one of the most rude ways possible and in the back of my mind I kept thinking what an idiot I am and that I will scare this poor thing shitless. Maybe it was a good thing I was not as tall and grotesquely muscular as Jason who looked like a thug most of his good days.

Imagine my surprise that when they turned around they only took one good look at my armour and scrunched their nose at me. Like I was the one being an idiot here. Didn’t anyone tell them that being so unaware of their surroundings in Gotham could cost them their life?

“Halloween is in October. And I am pretty sure that ComicCon was like a week ago”

Their smile was weak, without any teeth but I could feel them mocking me. What person living in Gotham didn’t recognise it’s vigilanties?

“Very funny sweetheart. I am not exactly in the mood for games.”

I didn’t restrain my urge to roll my eyes at them. Gothamites could be weird and disrespectful but they were good people at heart (well most of them anyway, there were exceptions where people did crimes because they wanted to do crimes not because they needed to. And this city had a way of turning people a certain kind of mad), who were often better to be left alone rather than entertain their craziness.

But they did something that got me hooked and interested constantly. They laughed. They laughed and it felt like thousands of little bells ringing the melody of worship, making that little beast in me raise its head. I wouldn’t say I fell in love with them then. I would lie and I promised to be honest with you didn’t I? But I got that feeling, the one I usually get when I know my interests have been peaked and my claws are ready to come out. I know when I want something and I can distinguish the difference between interest and devotion. This was not devotion, not yet. It was merely a single seed of curiosity that could grow to become an enormous problem later on.

The last time I felt something similar had me running around Gotham at night, chasing after a boy in scally shorts and pixie boots, following after him and his mentor who to a little brat appeared to be dressed in darkness itself. Now I could laugh at that ridiculous comparison, knowing that a man hidden behind the kevlar disappointed me more times than both of us bothered to count.

I can tell you now that I will fall hopelessly in love with them, ready at their single beck and call. I was more of a dog than a man but I could be a very loyal one, a faithful companion. I desired to be collared, to have the certainty that another person won’t leave me again. I always tried to sink my claws into everything that didn’t belong to me and every single time, without a doubt I would hold it close even when it was thrashing against my hands. Not once have I managed to keep anything that way, not even a piece of my love given back. No scratch marks to show that I was there, that I loved that I hoped. My claws always ended up torn out, stuck in the flesh of those dear to me, bleeding and rotting like unwanted trash.

”Well pretty boy don’t blame me for assuming when you look like you just walked out of someone’s bondage fantasy”

Their eyes trailed me up and down before a look of disbelief crossed their face. They pointed one finger at the symbol on my chest and pushed it delicately.

(For some reason I longed for them to hit me, to strike me deep, hard and fast. Bruise me and show the world they designed to touch me. That I was not disgusting and unlovable.)

“Was the theme supposed to be Robin and you just botched it into looking like a duck? Anyway honey I need to ask you to get out. This place is family friendly and fetish workers don’t fit into that category”

“Excuse me?!”

“No need to ask for permission, the door is that way”

I glared at them with one of my BatmanTM glares but it only seemed to make them more annoyed.

“I am not a prostitute, I just really need some caffeine.”

They snorted with laughter and I could feel myself getting red. What was even wrong with them?

Hit me hit me hit me hit me hit me Bite me bite me bite me bite me

“I am pretty sure they can also sell it to you at the nearest BDSM club. You need some kind of order to leave or will you see yourself out?”

“Aren’t you supposed to serve all customers?”

I was angry and tired and they were rude but I really just wanted to go home so I swallowed any comebacks I might have had and smiled politely.

“Listen this is Gotham and it’s like 3 am. No one cares about that family friendly shit anyway. And I will pay double.”

Whatever angry complaints they were about to throw at me died quicker in their mouth than hope in B’s eyes when Jason kills another criminal. They raised one brow at me but I knew I won.

“I don’t know if I just got that amazing offer because I bullied you a little and you really are a bondage slut or being a bondage slut pays very well.”

“I’m not paying throuple”

They grumbled a little but in the end took out a small notebook and a pen and gave me the nicest smile I probably saw all week.

(My heart got tighter and for a second I couldn’t breathe. I imagined myself taking that smile into my mouth and tearing it off, bloody and wonderful. If I consumed it would the warmth stay with me forever? Or would it leave me like all things seemed to do?)

“Well, my most wonderful totally not a bottom customer, what will you desire today?”

You you you you you you you you you

Tim was never a man capable of self restraint.

And you left him very intrigued.

It really wasn’t his fault that for the next week he could only think about your hands tightening ropes, intricately woven across his body. Or the same hands leaving welts across his body, your nails scratching him to blood. Marking him up for all to see.

It wasn’t really about you or who you were as a person, not at first anyway. You just happened to hit every box Tim had in mind when he was looking for something more, someone to help him get through the stress of his life. Because the truth was that Tim enjoyed the act of giving away his control - treated it like an act of worship, a highest honour and most precious gift he could give to anyone.

But he had no one to give it away to, not without fearing that someone might take advantage of him, hurt him too deeply. Leave him so shattered that this time he might not be able to pick up the pieces and construct something resembling a human shape around his true self again. The sharp and ugly parts of him were already uncovered too much, sticking out of his shell - ready to burst and spill blood.

You on the other hand would never be able to hurt him. You could bark all you wanted but your teeth would never be strong enough to bite through his skin. But Tim could trick himself into thinking otherwise and it would still satisfy him so what was the hurt in trying? When you were already so eager to mock him, to order him around?

So he began following you, making sure you were safe on your way back home from work. Gotham was scary after all, why would you mind a little hidden company in exchange for safety ?

Tim somehow convinced himself that he would get his urges satisfied that way. A little surveillance here and there never hurt anybody, not in this city. And learning your name was crucial if you ever ended up becoming a villain right? Tim was The Red Robin after all, he needed to keep an eye on everyone in Jason’s his neighbourhood.

A month observing your balcony would be all he needed to make sure you weren’t up to anything bad. He had to watch you fall asleep so he knew you would not go out anywhere else during the night. Who knew what kind of henchmen meetings you could’ve been sneaking out to. Maybe you were Clayface, ready to fool him for some masterplan.

And then it escalated.

Really, Tim was very proud of himself for not installing cameras in your dorm earlier. His skin was getting uncomfortable for the past few weeks but he prevailed, gave you a chance to run away. You didn’t and that’s why you were both in this situation - Tim sitting in front of his computer, mouth wide open, unable to understand what was even happening while you danced naked around your bedroom.

He didn’t even have to think before his fingers automatically moved to save the live feed to his folder, designed especially with you in mind. Hundreds of your pictures already rested there, saved and tucked for later.

(It was an impulsive behaviour that Tim couldn’t explain before himself, an illness he tried to treat on his own. He deleted a few of his least favourite pictures and waited for the hand of god to strike him, punish him for his insolence. He should have fallen to death as punishment but instead he could feel himself start shaking. Tim’s heart clenched painfully and vomit gathered behind his lips. He barely made it to the nearest trash can before he needed to breathe again, eyes already turning bloodshot. He sat there screaming his pure throat raw and ugly sobbing. With hands flying to his neck and choking just to shut himself up, nails leaving angry marks that filled with blood fast, Tim crawled to his computer. He needed the pictures back, now!)

And yet you tested his resolve once again, carefully picking at the sound parts of his mind and replacing them with madness. Tim felt small next to your greatness, unworthy of looking upon your image - with body soft and plush, cream freshly applied after the shower, your hair wet and curling against your cheeks. A perfect portrait of divine being, with a body that looked fragile upon first glance and sharp, cunning nature.

Tim should’ve stopped watching when he first discovered you naked as the day you were born, should’ve gone over to your house and got rid of cameras. There were many things he should’ve done instead of tugging his cock out of his pants, already hard and leaking.

He shouldn’t have started stroking himself to the quiet sound of your humming when you got yourself ready for some party. And he definitely shouldn’t have been imagining kneeling between your legs and humping your foot like a dog in heat.

Tim was a weak man, he could’ve admitted that but have you ever heard of a man who stumbles upon a naked goddess and walks away?

On the monitor, unaware of his heated stare you spread glitter all across your body, still humming a melody that would haunt Tim forever. You were so precious and so innocent and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you - to corrupt you with his filth, fill you to the brim with his essence. He could see it all now, both of you stitched together, skin to skin, side to side.

You and him chained to bed, unable to say where the other begins and where the other ends. There would be no such nonsense as him and you by then. You will be a joined entity, a two faced god of devotion and codependence.

You reach for a pair of red underwear and Tim’s breath hitches - his colour, you are wearing his colour

His strokes quicken to the point of painful stinging. His hands are covered in calluses, so unlike yours. Your hands are soft and delicate with sharp nails and long fingers made to put him in his place. Like a good dog he is, he would’ve laid down to rest at your feet and lap at any leftovers you give away.

Tim loses himself in the pleasure, bottom lip stuck between his teeth, eyes glued to your form on the screen. He thumbs his tip, precome gathering there like little beads of white tears, all falling for you. He would have made you taste it, your pouty lips embracing his thumb and sucking. You would have asked him to open his mouth and spitten your saliva and his come come into his waiting throat, bared all just for you.

He fumbles his speed and moans sound out all across his room, a private symphony just for him and you.

Tim’s orgasm comes hard and fast, shocking his entire body, limps spasming uselessly. He makes a mess and ashamed of himself ducks quickly into the bathroom to clean up. His black shirt is unsavable, his come drying off leaving nasty marks.

Tim catches a glance of himself in the mirror and for the first time in a while, he smiles. It’s not one of those gala smiles he throws to journalists and other pests bothering him during work hours. It’s also not the smile he shows around his family, that one when he scrunches his nose and barely shows any teeth.

This time it’s his real smile. All predatory, teeth barred and ready to tear flesh apart. The beast officially released itself of its prison and its coming for you

You didn’t recognise him the second time you saw him. How could you when he was wearing a mask and you were so tired you forgot all about the dude the next day?

But since that day you were resting even worse. You had that feeling of eyes on you, following your every move, like a monster was watching you. Waiting for a moment to grab you, snatch you and never give you back to the world. You were getting paranoid, dreaming of hands tearing you apart and rebuilding you anew like a fucked up Frankenstein’s creation. Someone was choosing parts of you that pleased them and throwing the rest out - like it was trash, like it didn’t make you who you are.

Maybe you should’ve listened to your consciousness, an animal part of your brain telling you to run and never look back. But you were so lonely, isolated from the entire world. That’s why when your friends asked if you wanted to go out this Friday you didn’t hesitate to say yes. You got yourself all dolled up, covered your body in little specks of glitter and wore nice underwear, hoping to get laid.

It was supposed to destress you, make your muscles finally relax and release the pressure. You would have taken a nice boy or a pretty girl into the back alley and let them do sinful things to you. You would have relished in the embarrassment that definitely would’ve come the following morning and moved on with your life.

Instead the moment you arrived you felt like you were about to be stabbed at any moment. Like you walked into a trap, or a mouth of a horrendous beast, it’s jaw ready to shut down. Your first thought was that those were only nerves, after all it’s been a while since you were in a place like this. So you drowned yourself in cheap booze, taking shot after shot to your friends delight.

Now you couldn’t even say where you were and what was happening to you. You could hear music all around you so you must be still at the club, dancing bodies all around you. It was getting hard to breathe, and you felt yourself panicking until hands embraced you from behind, locking onto your hips and pulling your back into the chest of a stranger.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Whispering right against your ear brought you back to earth enough for you to realise your entire body was moving with the stranger, dancing suggestively. Lips moving the stranger, began sucking on your earlobe gently, taking it into his mouth, tongue coming out to play.

Your breath hitched but you didn’t move away, your vision getting cloudy with pleasure. You could feel something hard and warm against your ass when the stranger made your hips swing more aggressively. Your hands immediately flew behind you to wrap them in his hair. It was short and soft, a little wet from the sweat thanks to the atmosphere in the club. You pulled hard to get him away from your ears. His head went obediently, following your hand and you could feel his chest shaking with uneven breaths, a whimper catching on his lips.

Your mouth quirked into a satisfied smirk. You went out today, expecting to find yourself at someone’s mercy in bed - men often tended to prefer domming instead of bottoming and it was hard to find a girl brave enough to follow you home these days, you supposed it was because Gotham was less safe for women than your hometown. It was just your luck that somehow you danced right into a man’s arms you could probably break enough to have some fun.

Pleased, you kept one of your hands in the stranger’s head, twisting strands of his hair. Your other hand travelled down his chest, pulling on one of his covered nipples, while he rutted against you. Turning your head enough to lick his bobbing adam's apple, your fingers finally reached their intended destination and you quickly opened his belt, ready to feel your prize up. His hands gripped your waist tighter, to the point of pain. A weak sob catched your attention and your back stiffened. Fuck was he crying? Did you do something wrong?

You brought his ear close to your lips so he could hear you speak despite the loud music and other people moaning.

“Do you want me to stop, baby?”

The sobs got louder and you tried to move away from him. Horny or not that was not something you wanted to deal with, no matter how ecstatic his cries made you feel. But his hands didn’t let you move far away, their hold on you unrelenting. He nuzzled his face into your neck before nipping you with teeth and you trembled in your core. It seemed to finally calm him down enough to speak.

“Sorry, it’s been awhile since someone took care of me”

He guided your hand into his pants and his boxers so you could feel how hard he was. You squeezed him and tugged your hand up and down a couple of times before stopping at his tip to gather precome. He twitched so wonderfully against you, whole body trembling with desire and in the corner of your eye you could see his mouth parted around his fist that previously gave you permission to touch his warmth. Poor boy, you were just getting started and he already was so overwhelmed. You purposely didn’t stop dancing to the music, your ass making circles to ground down hard on him.

Your hand was cramping from the uncomfortable position and you knew your neck would hurt tomorrow from nuzzling it against the man’s neck where you licked, bitten and sucked marks into it. You caught a hint of blue in his teary eyes when your gaze locked with his and gave him your best smile, with your teeth gleaming in the club’s lights. He was close, you knew it from the way he humped your fist more aggressively, movements lacking precision. You laughed at his clear desperation, already deciding what you were gonna do with him. How could you refuse this boy, when he was serving himself on a silver platter for you?

You stopped touching him, taking your hands off his body and he whimpered like a kicked dog, scratching you in protest. You decided to punish him for it later, when you got him naked under you, at your mercy with no way to run away. But that was a thought better saved for later - he seemed pretty lost in his head, likely to hit subspace soon and you needed actual consent before taking him anywhere. So you arched your back to make it easier for him to hear you.

“Your place or mine baby? Ohh and I will need to put a name to this pretty face”

That seemed to wake him up a little, clarity returning to his eyes.

(They scared you for a minute, they were so dark and calculating, like he was getting ready to strike you and was only waiting for the perfect moment)

“Mine, I can drive us there. And my name is Tim”

You raised a brow at him - he was definitely drunk, a pink blush covering him from his ears to down his collarbone before disappearing behind his shirt with its two buttons opened. But you were so boozed yourself that it didn’t occur to you to say no, you only nodded your head and focused on refixing his belt.

You completely missed his dark smile, much more dangerous than yours. That night you went home with Tim Drake, thinking you were the one holding power in your little dynamic. You didn’t tell your friends where you were going and with whom, too horny to remember their existence, your brain and memory foggy. They will spend the rest of the night looking for you before giving up, sure you will call them in the morning and they will scream at you for being too reckless.

But you call them in the morning, nor will you call them a day after. You will never call them again and no matter how many times they will call GCPD you will never be found, your missing person case buried under countless others. They will inform your parents that Gotham swallowed you and they can only count on it spitting you out in pieces or your body showing up in Gotham’s Harbour.

Tim walks you into the night, to your new home giddy with excitement. He can’t believe his luck, that you willingly walked right into his life. He thought he would need to force you, drag you kicking and screaming into his bed but turns out you were just as eager as him to start your new life together. His eyes stray from your face illuminated by the street lights to your back and the curve of your waist, he can’t decide which place would be better for your mark - yours and his. You see Tim really can’t afford to wear a wedding ring, it’s too recognisable, too easy to lose. But a scar burned or cut into his skin? That’s something he will never lose, that will stay with him forever. He will let you plan the design with him - couples chose the wedding rings together, don’t they?

A/N -> Wow this was a ride, a whole 5k of words of Tim being a crazy freak and reader matching him too much for their own good. I tried to make them as gender neutral as possible but if I failed I am sorry 🫤 Special thanks to the discord server Yael created, @mishkradetsa and @this0user0is0a0atar who helped me brainstorm how reader can insult Tim’s Red Robin costume. I don’t know when or if I will make a part two of this but I definitely plan on writing that Tim Drake fic with branding in the future

+ I am only human and this fic was not beta read so there are definitely mistakes here, please don’t point them out 🙏

[changingplumbob]

Second Round - Day Nine (3PO) 1 of 2

@lostinsixam, @igglemouse, @simstagramsomeone, @daedriyth, @ashubii, @simscici - Sim creators, co-writers, costume/makeup department and fashion photographers

Bright and early, the household wakes up. Room order was randomised, Jerrica and Lara spun the ground floor rooms. A wheel was spun for type of shower the contestants would have (opportunity for energised, flirty or inspired moodlet) and whether they would brush their teeth (possible confident moodlet). Once they are finished getting ready they're sent to breakfast. Autonomy is toggled on and room doors are locked.

The order the contestants arrive at breakfast matters a little. Deanna compliments each of them in the order they arrive. Those who are talked to early seem to have more chance of fitting in autonomous socials with Deanna. They might fit in a joke, flirt or gossip between her complimenting others.

Deanna: I've probably said it before but I do really love that top

Jerrica: *smiles* I debated whether to pack it or not, it's not very glitsy glam

Lara: What made you decide to pack it

Jerrica: It's just so damn comfy!

The women laugh as everyone piles into breakfast, seemingly in a good mood. That's right, Abby is NOT gloomy for now!

Kay: You look bright today Abby

Abigail: Thanks Kay, I feel it. I think doing well at rock climbing really boosted my mood

Kennedy: Aww, that's sweet to hear

Callie: Think we're ready for today's mystery?

Kennedy: I hope I'm ready. I really wanna a date

Deanna: You and me both

Jerrica: Can't you just like... tap production on the shoulder? Tell them to make a certain person win?

Kay: Not likely. Her pa seems like he has strong ethics, I'm sure he wouldn't condone cheating

Deanna: He would not

Lara: Abby, when you start one of your campaigns, how do you do it?

Callie: Oh I've been wondering that to

Abigail: Are you sure you want to know? Once I start to geek out it can be hard to stop

Jerrica: Is it like regular fantasy writing? Where you have to build the world first?

Abigail: Yes and no. I mean there are several established campaign settings you can choose from but I also have a homebrew campaign setting I use sometimes with my best friends

Callie: Pardon my ignorance but... that's not just a world full of beer right?

Lara: My guess is it means she made it herself, so it has it's own world rules

Abby nods.

Kennedy: But your setting has horses? Tell me it has horses

Kay: What would the fantasy characters ride without horses?

Deanna: I mean yes but can orcs ride horses?

With the conversation taking a very geeky turn some of the ladies break away. Kennedy goes to sunbathe... in the nude... because autonomy? Kay lights and sits by the fire pit outside, while Callie practices simbles.

Abby is just in the middle of recalling an encounter with a giant when she gasps! It would seem I didn't toggle on somewhere in my ww settings to dress up after sunbathing because Kennedy comes back in side... less formally attired than when she left.

Lara: *awkwardly* I'm going to see what food is in the fridge

Kennedy: We just had breakfast

Lara: As a glutton I really don't need much reason to eat. Excuse me

Luckily Kay and Callie outside miss the whole ordeal.

Deanna: Kennedy... you do realise you're uh... undressed?

Kennedy: I thought there was a campaign to free the nipple

Jerrica: Not at the dinner table

The contestants enter a costume department of a local film company.

Luna: Guten Morgen. You haven't met me yet but I'm Luna Villareal. Before I fell for Deanna's older sister I was an active member of the paragons, a group that loves to dress up. So for this challenge to win a date with my sister-in-law, we're going to be doing some dress up. Drumroll please

*group taps a drumroll*

Devin: Ta-da!

Devin appears from one of the doors dressed in a vintage outfit.

Devin: My wife loves fashion, and I basically play dress up to pay the bills. Today we have some of my friends coming in to help you dress up. Our themes are earth and land, wind and spirit, water and sea as well as fire and light. We'll be picking themes randomly, then you'll have the help of Luna, me, some paragons and some of my co-stars to pick your outfits. Once you're decided Rudolphous, who does all my film make-up, will apply the finishing touches and we'll get you in front of a camera

Watchers Note: Since art is subjective I did not want to choose the winners myself. They will be decided by charisma skill levels. That is coming in the next part, this part is all about celebrating the creativity of simmers. Don't forget you can post your own creations on your page once they've debuted here, I would love to make sure people can see them! This challenge is inspired by the dress up challenges @cawthorntales does for his BC's.

On with the show.

Jerrica's Theme - Water & Sea

Jerrica: Finally, an excuse to get my old costumes from drama club out

Sailing on the sea you'll see a flash of silver. Yes, it may just be a fish, but if you were to follow… The ocean holds many secrets, and mermaids are just one. They live in harmony with ocean, so the ocean keeps them hidden.

Lara's Theme - Wind & Spirit

Lara: Oooh, I can’t disappoint! My mind is buzzing with possibilities, and I’m also really curious to see what the other participants will come up with.

Some say we are all in this world alone. But in some corners… there are whispers of angels. Beings so stunning they had to calm anyone who saw them, least their brilliance dumbfound. While time moved on and good deeds can be carried out by all, the original angels must have been breathtaking.

Kay's Theme - Water & Sea

Kay: *happy squee* I love getting dressed up!

Kay chooses to honour the famous mermaid Ariel. Disney doesn't always make the right choice but not restricting themselves to a white Ariel was a right one. Halle Bailey embraced the spirit of Ariel, and so does Kay in this outfit.

Abigail's Theme - Earth & Land

Abby: Fashion is not exactly my forte, but the themes intrigue me. I'll see what I can come up with

Abby has chosen to pay tribute to one of her own creations, an elf druid in the world of Llamas and Lairs. Elara Evergreen. The theme made Abigail think of many beloved campaigns she has run with the character. She's a proud nerd from beginning to end.

Callie's Theme - Wind & Spirit

Callie: Ermmm, yeah, I'm not that much into fashion but I will try my best

Callie has opted to pay tribute to both the wind and spirit by celebrating the pioneers of air flight. Those initial daredevils traveled solo over great distances, embracing the winds with strong spirits.

Kennedy's Theme - Fire & Light

Kennedy: Well.. this might be fun! Dunno how good I'll be, but I'll try to have fun!

Kennedy and her mythical companion. Fire may quiet to embers but the bond between steed and rider cannot easily be snuffed out.

[dazedbythebolt]

"need you to take me somewhere." - (marvel) !

𖤓 parings: frank castle x paramedic!reader

𖤓 warnings: blood, treating injuries, drinking, break-in, brief tension but nothing crazy, not proof read, etc

𖤓 summary: As the night faded in, a surprise waiting inside your apartment doesn't seem to shock you as much as it should. But when he calls in and asks for a favor, were you really planning to drag him to a man you've never met?

𖤓 word count: 4k

𖤓 a/n: so sorry this took me a minute I've been so busy. hope you guys like this tho, wasn't really sure what to do so I made things up along the way lol. lmk tho!

(pt.1)

The night bore into early morning as I lost count on how many times I’ve put on and thrown away a pair of latex gloves. Even though the shift is difficult in and of itself, one of the most difficult tasks is finding the will to get up and go home and not fall asleep on the waiting room benches….again. 

Forcing myself to blast the shitty radio as I finally pulled into the parking garage, I took my purse and flung it lazily over my shoulder, dragging my feet audibly against the concrete as my eyes were barley keeping themselves open. The rusty elevator squeaks and groans before finally releasing me from its horrible wet metal stench, and I basically throw myself through the threshold of my apartment door and crash against the back of it. I turn briefly to lock it shut and toss my shoes off as I trudge to the fridge. 

As I bent my back down and gaze at the empty contents inside, an exhausted groan leaves my mouth as I slide a hand down the side of my face.

“Should’ve became a fucking nurse.” I huff, grabbing a bottle of water and tossing it onto the table along with my purse and my forearms with it. Ducking my head down, I almost let out another embarrassing noise of fatigue before a shuffle causes me to whip it back up, immediately searching around the dark apartment for the noise. 

I move slower than I usually would, letting suspicions of his return creep into my mind. It’s been around 2 months since our last encounter. The news has exploded, yet I haven’t found the guts to tell anyone about what happened. Mainly because I’d rather keep them. But there’s also a nagging in the back of my mind, tucked deep and far away no matter how much my heart tries to pull at it. Am I doing it to protect him?

My inner debacle doesn’t stretch far before the stranger lets out thick groan, switching on the couch side lamp as they throw their head back to look at me from their position on my couch—the same one as before. 

“Hey.” Is all he says, all gravely and rough like he hadn’t spoken in days. My muscles relax, giving up on reaching for the knife once again before confusion creeps into my expression, eyeing him as I walk closer. 

“Why are you here?” I ask tentatively, eventually reaching him and turning so that I stand before his laid out body. Whatever idea I had about his condition was thrown out the window as my eyes immediately latched onto the blood surrounding him. The entire shoulder section of his t-shirt was ripped off, and he looked like a teenage girl who went to town with some kitchen scissors. I also discovered the slashes along his torso, less severe than what he came in with the first time, but the bullet holes still remain, this time in his thighs.

I sigh leaves me before I can control it. “Jesus. You ever thought about wearing any kind of padding? Every time I see you you’re mellowing in a pool of blood.” I quip half sarcastic, half truthful as i rest my hands on my hip, eyeing him. 

Though sharing direct eye contact with Frank Castle is never really a good idea, because he’s not the type to back down from it. He continues to wear that same expression he always has—eyebrows knitted, eyes squinted, lips curled in like he’s offended. 

“You gonna fix me or what, doc?” He teases, though his voice remains toneless as it matches his gaze. I look off to the side, thinking for a moment before hesitantly opening my mouth to answer. 

“I told you last time, frank. Not committing another crime for you.” I remind helplessly, arms crossed as I give him an almost pitiful look. He picks up on my hesitance though, seeing through as always he leans forward, his face now morphing into one of slight pain and my medical brain once again acts before my rational one, suddenly kneeling before him as I grab his shoulders to a halt. I sigh, looking at my hand placement before back at his eyes, this time a little too close for comfort. “Shit. You really do know what buttons to push, huh.” I say as I shake my head, trying to hide the smirk as he watches me cave. 

“You sure got a lot of ‘em.” He retorts with a tease, eyes remaining forward as I get up to retrieve my kit, soon returning back to my position in front of him as I shove the gloves back on for the millionth time today. 

“You know, you always seem to pick the wrong days.” I announce as I tear his shirt off him with his help, gathering the supplies needed to aid his shoulder. I decided since it didn’t seem like he’d be moving for the moment, the bullets could wait. He lets out a gruff ‘hm’ and I’m confused if it’s a sign to keep going or to shut me up. Me being me, I continue anyway. “Had a really fucking long shift today. Sometimes I think to myself like hey, were all those student loans and sleepless nights really all worth it—for this?”

I begin to ramble as I attended to his upper injures, words tumbling out like rapid fire in stark contrast to the smooth maintenance of my fingers like second nature. Maybe it was the paramedic in me that feels the need to talk while I work, or maybe the tight silence was so insufferable that my exhausted brain decided to bypass any social cues. Either way, he kept his gaze on mine. No noise of complaints, barely even a grunt here or there. Just utter, typical Castle, silence. 

“-and so whatever. just think its ridiculous is all. I mean- why hire Jack if you can’t handle the kids’ questions?” I put the question in the air, adding the final piece of wrap to his torso as I conclude my, probably 20 minute long, rant. I sit back on my haunches, finally look up at him since the time I started to already find his gaze on mine, as usual. 

“Yeah.” He voices at last, his head flopping to the other side. Before I question his response, I shake my head in realization that he was responding to what I had said, mainly because it was his first word after my tangent. The silence was loud before I spoke, cold eyes intercepting my warm stare with a weird look in his eye I couldn’t place.

“Sorry, it’s just habit for me to talk while I work. I say it’s to calm patients down, but really I just need to distract myself, keep the brain running y’know?” I voiced out to him, not really sure why I spilt more information than needed but I chose to blame it on my worn-out brain and not the nerves of touching a man like him in my living room. He just watches, tugging his lips in as he nods at me—a sign of understanding. A small smile then graces my face, but soon wipes itself off as I realize he’s still got gaping holes in his flesh.

I rise back up on both my knees this time, hands reaching to inspect the damdge. I look back up at him, his thigh, and then the kit as I go to reach for a knife but my path is haunted as he tosses my other hand off his leg, suddenly reaching gently for his belt. 

My eyes don’t tear away from his actions. Hell I tried, really tried okay, but it was hard as he was making noises like that while his worn hands unbuckle it, going almost a little too slowly as it finally released itself from the last loop of his jeans. As he reaches his fingers around the button, I unclench a fist I didn’t even know I was holding before waving my hands up, eyes tearing away from the scene and back to the kit.

“I- uhm..you don’t have to uh do all that. I can just cut around the fabric so that you can, you know, stay decent-“ I begin in a rush, already feeling the tips of my ears flush with something along with embarrassment before he interrupts. 

“Don’t want you makin’ a mess outta my clothes now, doc.” He pokes, watching me with another amused tilt of his head as I shake mine again, utterly shamed. 

“There’s already holes in them. Look, I just think its better if-“ I point out, eyes still on the kit before I hear a rush of clothing, and my eyes promptly return to the source only to find Frank still there, but with his lower half discarded. I try not to let the sudden jolt of nerves overtake me, glancing at his eyes but immediately turning away again as the shock of his unusually warmer gaze in place of his typical cold one sends an unfamiliar feeling to the pit of my stomach. 

‘Snap out of it’ I remind myself, taking in a deep breath before eyeing the holes, grabbing what’s needed to extract the bullets. With added nerves to inexperience, my hands can’t help but shake as I try and retrieve whatever shell is inside him. Suddenly though, a palm littered with rough calluses reaches for my softer one, lifting both it and the forceps up to hover above the red flesh. I shoot him a confused glance, his hand still on mine.

“You tryna lodge it further in me? Quit shakin’, you’re scarin’ me.” He mutters, eventually letting me go as I sigh, taking in a deep breath before apologizing and following his words, zeroing in on his injury and not the rest of him.

Sooner or later, the blood covered forceps are placed onto the blue medical tissue as I double check the bandages to make sure they’re secure. He still sits without a word, watching me glance over the rest of my work to ensure everything is steady before packing up my tools, leaving the used ones out to be washed later on. I stand up, a grimace following soon after as my knees ache but I ignore it as I place my attention back on him. 

When I reach a hand out to help him up, he rises steadily instead, chest almost crashing into mine as he doesn’t seem to mind the proximity. The air stills when I glance upwards, watching him from a new angle as his gaze shoots down to mine, unrelenting and studious as he still doesn’t move, even when my once outreached hand makes contact with his middle. Our eyes are strongly interlocked, his breath remaining stagnant as mine rushes to catch up, quickly adapting to the sudden loss of breath. Whatever just happened, I blink myself out of an unfamiliar haze, taking a hesitant small step backwards and shooting my eyes to the floor. I really try not to look at the rest of him right now. 

“Uhm, I can- I can get you some.. new clothes if you want. Though knowing you, you’re probably fine with the same bloody and ripped stuff from before.” I try and joke, hands stuffing themselves awkwardly in my back pocket as my eyes meet back with his. 

He doesn’t move for a couple solid seconds, staying still as stone before moving his body down to pick up his discarded attire. His eyes don’t break away until he’s fully bent down, a grunt following him back up as he straights his back, eyes back on me. 

I huff soon after he finishes redressing himself, his eyebrows knitting once again as he catches my annoyed expression. “From now on, if you’re gonna continue doing this, you know you can just call me if you need anything? A patch up, a place, some clothes that aren’t torn to shreds.” I throw in, giving him a knowing look.

The faintest of smirks crosses his scared lips, a teasing tone leaving him. “Thought you weren’t committing crimes for me?” He recalls, eyes filled with amusement as I roll my eyes back.

“Yeah well, doesn’t look like I’m escaping this anytime soon,” I gesture my hand at both him and the medical supplies. “Don’t really have a plan yet on how to force an armed vigilante out of my apartment.” I retort back, giving him a sarcastic glance before picking my medkit off the ground, listening to his footsteps follow mine out the living room and to the kitchen where I place it on the counter, his path heading to the window me must’ve came through in. 

I walk over to him as he lifts the old glass with ease, an arm resting on the outside when he turns back. A gruff ‘thank you’ leaves his lips ,turning away before looking for an answer as I just hum a noise of appreciation, watching him disappear off into the night the same as I did before. 

-

The next few days speed past in a blur. Every time I try and focus, or just do my job, I keep forcing myself to snap out of a haze. It was like the same as before when he first snuck in. The smell of blood and dirt wasn’t hard to rid of, but it was the smell of him that was. Gunpowder, musk, and the ever so slight hint of pine that probably originates from some sort of shampoo or body wash. As if the thoughts of him weren’t enough, of course he had to invade my senses too.

Now as I sit in my living room, takeout in my hand and some shitty show in front, I can’t picture it as the same. It’s like that seat is reserved for him and his scars, a bubble that if I entered I wouldn’t be able to escape. A sigh is all that leaves me, inhaling another fork full of greasy lo mein to fulfill my continuous hunger. 

All of the sudden, I feel vibrations through out the couch as my phone buzzes from somewhere in the mess of blankets, setting down my food as I search for it. When my hands finally land, I gaze at the caller only to be met with an unknown number, confusion and annoyance flashing on my face as I hang up, assuming it was just spam. After a solid couple of seconds, the phone rings yet again and when it’s the same number, I decide to finally pick up. 

“Hello?” I greet, annoyance clear in my tone.

“Hey, doc.” Sounds a grunt from the other line, and my face immediately falls into on of recognition as I straighten my back, fishing for the remote to pause whatever’s playing on the TV.

“Oh..hey Frank. What’s- how did you get my number?” I ask, more curious now than upset. Sooner or later you come to terms with what this man does. 

“You and the questions huh? Like a..game show host or somethin’.” He chuckles lightly, and I find it hard to miss the slight slur in his voice rather than the fact he actually laughed. I let us sit in a beat of silence for a second, trying to listen in on the noises around him.

“Are you at a bar?” I questioned cautiously, choosing to ask him directly instead of dancing around the obvious. “Didn’t know you drank.” I then decide to joke, hoping to lighten the mood.

“s’lot you don’t know ‘bout me.” He mutters, voice rather silent compared to those surrounding him. It’s probably some underground bar, filled with thugs who wouldn’t bat an eye at their fellows. The silence that follows his statement eats at me, and I prop my legs up to my chest, staring ahead as I think of what to reply with. 

“Why’re calling me, Frank?” I huff out, eyes flickering to my picked nails. He only breathes in response, the sound of him gulping god knows what down before it settles back on the surface near him. 

“Said I could call you for anything, right?” He recalls, voice hinting that he’s clearly ready to take upon that offer. 

“…yeah?” I whisper, eyes squinted even though he can’t see as my focus zones in on what could possibly come next.

“Need you to take me somewhere.” 

-

“Don’t you usually do this on your own? I mean you found my apartment, my number, you clearly already know this guy..why do you need me?” I ask him, thinking aloud as he slings his arm over my shoulder, bending forward at an awkward angle. He can’t even keep himself upright—clearly drunk off his ass—though he seems like the type who can operate on any state of mind or physicality. He doesn’t reply, rather he keeps his eyes sharply ahead like its habit. I chose to let the silence carry us, mulling over the questions in my head instead as I form answers to them myself.

Soon enough, we reach his destination and he punches in the building’s code as if it was second nature. Maybe this is his place, and he just has a roommate? Since there’s no elevator, it takes a minute for us to climb up the stairs, half his body weight still leaning on me like he can’t support himself. It’s definitely weird, seeing a man of his stature leaning on my shoulder, his eyes glossy and not cold cut like usual. 

We finally reach the correct floor, and I drag him down the hall as my knuckles rasp against the wood of the number he gave me. As we wait for an answer, I flick my eyes over to Frank, but he seems like he’s lost in some sort of thought. Before my mouth can open to inquire, the door flies off as a man stands behind it. His hair is slicked back as he’s adorned in professional attire ,but what stands out the most is his red paned glasses that mostly hide his eyes. It takes a moment for a word to fall out my mouth, but as his eyes flicker to the guest beside me, I quickly catch up.

“Uhm hi, sorry. I don’t know if you know him, but he told me to bring you here-“ I start nervously, his expression turning into a sharp scowl and I try and decipher if he’s looking at me, or Frank.

“Hey Red.” Frank finally speaks, voice slurred but still steady as his head finally rises to meet his eye, giving him a large grin as I look between the two.

“Frank, what are you doing here. And who’s this.” He says the first part in an exasperated tone before switching to a more lighter one, head turning to face me. 

“She’s a doctor. Fixes me.” He blurts like it’s obvious, and I can’t help but find myself rolling my eyes as I turn to his face, which is a little closer than I’d like.

“Not a doctor. Paramedic. Very different things Castle,” I corrected, my tone almost matching the other mans annoyance as Frank finally turns his head to mine for the first time, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, same thing,” He sneers, not carrying that usual roughness as he sends me a light-tipped smile and it takes me back for a split second before I retort.

“No, not the same-“

“Need a place to stay, Red. My place s’compromised. Sure you’ll understand.” He interrupts, suddenly straightening his back and retracting his arm from my shoulder, leaning a palm against the doorframe as he tries to push through the guy but he doesn’t let him, holding a heavy hand against his chest. 

“Yeah, no. See Frank unlike you, I’ve got other things I need to handle. You can’t just- barge into wherever and expect people to welcome you. What’s up with you anyway?…You’ve had a lot to drink tonight huh. You never drink.” He concludes, looking him up and down before meeting him back in the eye. Frank doesn’t respond immediately, but instead pushes his shoulder against the guy and moves further into his apartment. The man sighs, watching him use the wall as support before turning back to me and widening the door, clearly letting me in. “Sorry, I’m Matt. Me and Frank are..close friends.” 

I smile at him as I enter his apartment, welcoming the fresh smell of sandalwood and dust as he closes the door behind me and I turn to face him, giving him my name back. He nods before turning his attention back to Frank who’s nearing the couch, and we both walk closer to where he is as he settles his hand on the armrest. 

Matt stands to the side of me now as we both watch him, clearly lost in his actions as he pays us no mind, plopping down and letting out an exaggerated breath of air. He swivels his head to us ever so slowly, a rare smirk on his face as he speaks.

“Ya’ll teaming up on me now?” He sneers, voice gravely like he needs to cough. I look at Matt, well more like the back of his head as I’m slightly behind him, but he keeps his eyes forward and arms crossed.

He sighs. “Just the night Castle. Then you’re gone first thing in the morning, okay?” He says s he unravels his hands, walking away to his kitchen before Frank can produce a sound. And all he does his grunt, throwing his head back on the couch as a sigh leaves him. I watch him for a quick moment, unsure of what else to do, and he opens his eyes as he watches me from his peripheral. 

“You gonna stand there all night and watch?” He slurs, and I roll my eyes, tucking my hands into the pockets of my sweats as I turn to Matt. I watch as he opens his cabinet and reaches in, grabbing two glasses as they clink onto the counter before he turns around to face me again.

“Water?” He asks me, eyebrows lifting in question.

“Uhm yeah, sure. Then I’ll head out.” I stated, waiting patiently for a couple seconds before he walks over, handing me a glass and then setting one in front of Frank. 

“No, don’t leave,” he exclaims, dragging out each syllable to the point where he sounds like a whiny teenager, the small tug on the corner of his mouth exposing his facade as he watches me again. “Need someone to patch me up after we tussle. This one-“ he points to Matt, who sits down in his char, unimpressed, “doesn’t go down without a fight. And a monologue.” He taunts, gleaming at Matt’s expressions as his hands settle on his thighs. My eyes flicker between the two of them, both seemingly trapped in a sort of unspoken fight before Matt breaks eye contact as turns to me.

“How’d he loop you into all of this.”

I spend around the next hour in Matt’s brightly lit living room, sharing me and Franks encounters as he chimes in when necessary with a joke or two. Frank is barely vocal, and I almost thought he had fallen asleep before he let out an annoyed grunt as I explained his refusal to wear undamaged clothes. 

But sooner or later, my eyes widened as I finally unlocked my phone, checking the time and realizing I had been out way later than planned. I apologized for holding Matt, but he only uttered something about how he wouldn’t be sleeping anyway. I sent a final glance to Frank as I lifted off from the couch and moved toward the hallway, and he left me with a look in his eye—one that told me that he would be alright. I sighed, bidding my goodbyes and finally walking out into the street. 

As I returned back to my apartment, stuffing the forgotten leftover in the fridge before making my way to bed, I was left with only one prominent thought.

What the hell just happened?

tags: @cinnamoroll-things

[willwasnotfound]

Other kind of demon

Hello, Hello! Ehh, well I rlly don't know how to start this, idk if it stays only abt lore of reader or has something else, if it does srry for getting to other stuff.

Soo, her backstory is really tragic and involves some traumas that I don't know how to translate, so I'll write it literally, someone sells her body andd kind of child abuse, mention of death and some other stuff

Again, English is not my first language, so any error of grammar can happen in here lol Chapter 2

Memories.

Y/N was finally at her own penthouse, it wasn't too far from where she found those demons, so it didn't took too long.

She was tired, and directly went to fall on her bed, she needed to rest, and she did her best to do so.

But yet she couldn't.

She thought maybe it was her clothes fault, so she changed them, and when she layed down again, failing again.

She grabbed some food, perhaps she just was hungry.

Nothing again.

She layed down, frustrated, it was like that encounter reavivated the memories, her mind couldn't rest after that.

Y/N was not a normal girl, at least not like she wished.

She was just a commoner, the only thing that made her stand out of the rest of her village, was her beauty.

Her mother was beautiful, but was already getting old, so she knew that her own daughter would probably be more beautiful than her.

The woman wasnt exactly the kindest person to Y/N, basically, her life was like Cinderella's, the only thing was- that she was most likely to never meet a prince, and she knew it.

They were commoners, born like that, and probably die like that, even with the beauty of both of them, her mother married a carpenter, and that was Y/N's destiny.

Until her father died, and with that, her mother didn't have the money to keep her luxuries- which weren't a lot, considering they were commoners.

And that was just the start of her hell. Her mother started to search jobs for her while she was barely 9 years old. Whatever that bringed money for her, Y/N was forced to do.

And then, her mother realized she had grown, and poor little Y/N, even if her age was young her body no more looked like the one of a kid.

She started to sell her body.

Y/N grew with fear, not only about the men that touched her without her permission, but also from her mother. She would do anything to keep the life she had, but without moving a finger.

But yet, Y/N couldnt hate her mother, how could she? She was her mother, and she was supossed to love her mother, and her mother surely loved her too.

At least that was the lie that she told herself everyday.

That was until she got sick, Y/N's face started to look pale and started to lose that beauty that made men pay to her mother.

And of course she wasn't happy. "Stupid filthy thing!" The woman kicked Y/N?S body down the house, the poor girl just tried to protect her body by hugging herself. "How dare you...! First you ruin my life! And now... now you can't give me the money I need!"

Y/N laid on the floor, without moving, she didn't wanted to piss off her mother more than she already was, hearing her leave while mutering curses to her daughter.

"Poor little thing."

She heard a voice, but she couldn't sense nobody.

"You will never please your dear mother like this." The male voice kept going, "But I can help you with that."

And suddenly a man appeared in front of her, he was tall, and was wearing only black clothes, but she couldn't see his face.

Y/N sat up however she could, tears going down her cheeks.

"Ow little one, don't cry." His voice was almost sooothing, he moved his thumb to clear the tears while the girl seemed like she was about to faint. "I can offer you health and the beauty you still crave, you'll get to live better than this poor village."

"A-And I can help my mother that way?" Y/N Held her tears.

Even the man was surprised, a little girl that still craved for the love of her mother, even after all the pain she putted her through.

Oh, this was going to be easier than he thought.

"Of course, you will make happy your mother this way, she'll get what she deserves." The man stretches his arm, as a sign of sealing the deal. "But you'll need to pay to me later." Y/N doubted, she just wanted to make her mother happy, to get her to live however she wanted.

"Okay." She stretched his hand, and a loud laughter came out from the man.

She would never guessed what she had done.

His eyes shined with a gold glint, and her body started to fill with purple marks. It hurted, hurted as dying, and suddenly he dissapeared. And so did the marks.

She ran to the nearest mirror on her house, realizing she was even prettier than before.

Happy to see she was cured, she ran to search her mother, but she wasn't anywhere.

"How strange..." She mumbled and just went to walk through the village, relieved to have her health back.

Little did she know, her mother was laying dead at her own house, hided in a place she could never think of.

The men on the village didn't recognize her, so many times using her body- and yet none of them could tell who she was.

She started to think that so many stares were weird, of course she wouldn't mind one or two stares, but it was the whole town, even women and she didn't know if it was for hate or admiration.

Even after all the day her mother did not appear, and even if she was worried, a small part of her that she tried to dissapear was glad to not see her.

In fact, that part wouldn't mind founding her dead.

Days passed, and she managed to survive the same way her mother obligued her to do, by selling her body, until one day she killed the man she was with, she didn't even knew how, she cried with fear of the people to find out, because he seemed death, but there was not a sign of harm on him.

And it continued, one by one men started to disappear, until a small account stayed. Some women were concerned of where did their husbands went, and kinds where their parents were.

Y/N was slowly turning into a demon, and she didn’t notice that she was consuming their souls, until one say she went out for food, even when she didn’t wanted to.

Everyone looked at her, not with desire, not with envy. They stared with fear.

Her whole body was covered in marks, and her skin was turning to a shade of purple, not all, but what the people could see.

When she got to the place, the man that was supposed to sell the food didn’t show up. And she stayed there for a bit, until she heard screams.

“That’s her fault! She killed the men of the village!” A woman yelled while signaling her, while men with armor got closer to her, they were holding spears.

Y/N didn’t know what to do. Yes, she was right, but it wasn’t her fault, it was probably the man she made a deal with.

“I swear I didn’t!” She stepped backwards, trying to find a place to run.

“Monster!” “She took everything away!” “She doesn’t deserve to live!” “Kill her!”

A chorus of angry people sounded in the background, no, this wasn’t supposed to be happening, she just wanted to make her mother happy, not kill people.

“She killed her own mother!” Was the last thing before everything faded to black.

Did she actually killed her mother? That mattered?

It seemed like it did, because a lot of the voices she heard before, plus agony screams she thought were from the death men started to sound through her head, it wasn’t a whisper, it was the kind of thing that makes your ears bleed.

And then again, the male voice that she thought saved her made them silent.

“This is your part of the deal.” The voice spoke on her head, giving her enough strength to get up.

She wasn’t at her village anymore, she was in a dark place, only lighted by a red fire, that was just in front of her.

“Y-You knew this would happen to me?” She stammered while watching her hands, they were no more like that, they were claws, sharp enough to actually kill.

“You never cared to ask what I would be asking in return.” The voice, know coming from the fired laughed, being followed by tons of laughter behind her.

When she turned around she found millions of demons, she knew it, there were books of them in the human world.

“Now you serve to me, Gwi-Ma, your soul is mine to have fun with, and you can never scape.” She just looked down, of course she wouldn’t reply, that fire was like her mother, he ruined her life, exactly the same way her mother did before.

What was her error? She just wanted to please her mother, and now, she ended up pleasing the king of demons, it was like she didn’t deserve to be happy herself, always forced to make the others happy at her own cost.

She woke up, what a lame dream, she only wanted to stop dreaming at this point, it was worse than remembering, because everything was so vivid.

She stood up from her bed, it was still dark outside, probably she just slept one hour or two.

God, how she wished the demons from earlier accepted her offer.

Umm, in Spanish makes sense, idk how well written it is in English, soo srry-

Anyways, hope you enjoyed the story, next chapter we’ll get to the main plot again :D

Thanks for reading!

Taglist:@just-set-things-on-fire, @gremlinartstudio, @amery-benson-cvii, @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone, @katzline, @megunian

[boiledprawn99]

Did you know I'm also a writer? Sort of. Anyway here's some more Pressure thoughts:

I saw some new dialogue between Painter (P) and Sebastian (S) today. P mentions that it's been two days since the lockdown started, and that S hasn't gotten any sleep at all during it. There's more to it but I want to focus on the "two days" thing.

It makes me think about the amount of time the game actually takes place in, and the game's story itself.

(Warning: long and probably very incoherent thoughts about Pressure's in-game timeline, mechanics and lore implications.)

Pre-WTW, we knew P and S were trying to slow the EXR-P down so that they didn't get the Crystal, because S needed more time to negotiate/find a way out for both of them. But, post-WTW, as soon as we reach S's shop, we have the option to tune the radio and find out that Innovation Inc is already confirming that they're going to collect the two. I'm assuming this radio change isn't something that happens after you play for a few times, and it's a part of the story that's existed before the player first steps into the Blacksite (more or less).

Then, during the Ridge, we find P at the dock mentioned in the radio broadcast, waiting for pickup. It seems that when the Blacksite loses power and everything goes offline, that's when "skies are clear"...? I'm sure, in any other circumstance, Urbanshade would notice a foreign vessel docking at the Blacksite and grow suspicious of it, especially if they're out for S and P.

So, if S needs the optimal time to escape being in the short time when the Crystal is obtained to when the backup power comes back online, why bother trying to stop the EXR-P from getting to it in the first place? If that's when the skies are clear, why still bother trying to halt the EXR-P?

This made more sense pre-WTW, when we (the player and S) had no confirmation if Innovation Inc had picked up on S's negotiations. But, post-WTW, the timeline's been changed so that Innv has already confirmed this deal before the player even reaches S's shop (again, the radio).

But it couldn't all happen that quickly, right? S still has to gather data, negotiate, set traps and scavenge. He didn't kill one guy, set a bunch of anomalies free, and then just go right to contacting other companies.

The player is in a time loop of sorts, we know. The question is: does time progress outside of that loop? When the player dies, does everything rewind back to how it was, minus Seb's and the player's memories? Evidence: grand encounters being reset, player spawning back at the docks. Contradictory evidence: Navi remembering if you've been to the Firewall or Abomination grand encounter. Or does the player respawn without everything being reset, and time still runs normally (like, a respawning immortal being type of situation). Evidence: S mentioning he found your corpse, Navi remembering you. Contradictory evidence: dying with the Crystal sets it back to where it was (wouldn't it just be on the ground with your corpse?), data respawns back.

Of course there's things that are just for gameplay reasons. Nobody can hold that much data (all those CDs, USBs, files, tapes... where do they go?). The player spends all this time trying to win, and it's only canonically been two days, allegedly. The timeline's still fuzzy, a lot of things are based on RNG, so you could get certain dialogue in places where it may not make a lot of sense? And, of course, it is a game.

The secret third option is that it is, canonically, a game. Of some sort. Lopee has crazy amounts of control over the narritive of Pressure (seen mostly in the bad ending), and we can assume he's the one that "resets" everything when the player dies. I see some people are linking it to Deltarune, with the player and Gaster, and like, yeah, that's basically what's going on here if we take everything at face value. Pressure is literally a game, we're not pretending we're a character in some fantasy universe like SCP: CB or Control, we are a Player piloting an expendable and there is an entity in this game making sure everything goes to plan for its own amusement, or in Urbanshade's favour. There's obviously a universe outside of the "game", but right now, everything inside the Blacksite has been literally gamified. Pressure is not a story, it is a game.

So anyway even before Worth the Wait I've been wondering what Pressure would be like if it was told as an actual story with a coherent narritive and timeline. What if the protagonist (which was the player) wasn't some vessel for something else? What if they were just a person, randomly selected by Lopee to play in his game and ensure Urbanshade wins? What if they could talk and react to everything happening to them?

Anyway yeah I'm making an AU and writing a fanfic, but whatever.

[plrle]

1.1. camille desmoulins in the eyes of contemporaries: was he really THAT emotional?

i’m starting a series of posts dedicated to the subject of camille desmoulins’ portrayal in european dramas of xix-xx centuries. i’m going to post it rather irregularly, since i’m travelling right now, and because of artfight, but i’ll try nonetheless!

before we begin to analyse dramatic works that include the figure of camille desmoulins as one of the characters, let us consider how the personality of camille desmoulins was perceived during his lifetime, both by people who knew him personally, and by those who weren’t exactly friends with him but still had to encounter his texts and statements in the political space.

given that this paragraph is devoted to a review of the views of contemporaries, it is worth noting that many of the presented opinions are going to be highly subjective sometimes and may not reflect the real historical situation. propaganda is one of the most powerful tools in politics; often the statements of certain frev politicians may be backed not so much by their real opinion on desmoulins as by a desire to support or, on the contrary, to accuse desmoulins/the dantonists/club des cordeliers of something. and we’ll also investigate the impression camille made on his contemporaries and the image that was formed around him during his lifetime.

since i’m already posting on frevblr, i will omit describing his biography :D we all know at least some basic facts about desmoulins’ life. yet the semi-mythical stories surrounding camille's image begin as early as his adolescence. fleury tells of camille desmoulins' strange behaviour when he returned to guise on vacation in 1784. the guests who had gathered to dine with the young student, had heard that he became very emotional when the topic of conversation touched on republican ideas. one of the guests deliberately provoked desmoulins by denying all his theses, from which camille, angry, trembling and almost crying, got up from the table, threw a dinner-napkin on his head, jumped on the table and spoke at length about his principles. he really likes jumping on furniture to say his speeches, eh?

later on, when camille became a famous journalist, there are also stories of how emotional he might get in comparison to other people. according to joachim vilate, on hearing the sentence of the еribunal révolutionnaire to execute the brissotins, camille, although he himself had contributed to the decision, became extremely agitated and threw himself into the arms of vilate, crying out loud about how he is killing them all and how he wants to leave.

and, of course, then there’s this well-known speech by robespierre in jacobin club of 18 nivôse, when, discussing camille, robespierre called him “a child with good intentions, but who was led astray by bad company”.

then there are stories about his behaviour during the imprisonment, but, in my opinion, the emotional reactions of his in this case, if they were true, are quite valid - imagine being arrested and not knowing what will happen to your wife - death probably awaits her. needless to say, many people would probably cry in this situation.

so, the patrol tasked with arresting desmoulins and danton found the former in tears, though in a remarkably calm state of mind.

while imprisoned, camille wrote in his letters to lucile: "the thought of my solitude, the dreadful bars that separate me from you, overcame all my firmness of soul. i burst into tears, or rather I sobbed, crying out in my tomb. lucile! lucile! oh my dear lucile, where are you?". the original letter bears traces of his tears.

on his way to the scaffold, seized by rage and despair, laughing nervously and agitated, camille tried to tear the ropes and, tearing his shirt to shreds, addressed the crowd with a last appeal.

in conclusion of this post, the image of camille's personality was already formed during his lifetime: he appears as a charismatic journalist, gullible, overly influenced by emotions. his image wasn't always of a crybaby, though! marat spoke of him as a man whom ‘nature made so cheerful, so witty, so friendly’. if you read more about what marat wrote about and to desmoulins, if anything, he finds him funny and amusing.

many historical episodes documented by contemporaries show that camille was indeed characterised by sensitivity and emotionality - whether the episodes themselves were true or not.

stay tuned for the next 1.2 chapter, "the image of camille desmoulins in the context of conservative reaction and gender discourse"!

[mariyekos]

Crack fic idea: POV of a police officer chasing a robbery suspect who ends up running into DMC to escape/grab a hostage. When the officer opens the door, he finds the suspect standing frozen in the middle of the room, because on the opposite end by the desk, an angry Vergil's standing there stabbing a surprised Dante. This stabbing pretty obviously happened before the robber showed up. It's only through the hand, but the one guy is holding a whole giant samurai sword, the guy getting stabbed has a gun in his free hand, and there's kind of a lot of blood.

The other officer comes in after POV guy. Officer 2 looks over the scene, then starts to arrest the suspect who's still so shocked he doesn't really fight the handcuffs. Once the suspect is cuffed, Officer 2 starts to walk him through the door and tells POV Officer it's time to go. POV Officer is confused, because uh, sir, there's some pretty severe domestic violence going on and he doesn't know if that gun's registered, and even if they ignore all the normal police/violence/safety issues shouldn't they call some EMTs??? Or at least ask the guy getting stabbed if he's okay???? (To which Dante calls out "oh yeah I'm good!" confusing poor POV officer further)

Officer 2 just frowns and shakes his head. "No, they've got this. Right Dante?" To which Dante cheerfully replies with some small talk that makes it obvious he and Officer 2 are acquainted. Vergil gets tired of the small talk and rips the Yamato out of Dante's hand, walking upstairs. And when POV Officer starts to ask something else, Dante basically just waves him off with some sort of comment about how Vergil's just grumpy, honestly Dante kind of deserved that one, he'll admit he was being a bit pushy. And then waves goodbye when Officer 2 says they really need to get back go the station and book the suspect.

As they leave, POV Officer asks what's going on. Officer 2 basically just tells him not to worry, and not to write it in the report. That's just Dante. Dante tries to keep clear of the police, the police try to keep clear of Dante, and everyone's happy. He's helped out on a handful of cases when he just so happened to be in the area, he's gotten accused of some property damage a few times, it all evens out. You just don't mention Dante. City Police actually have a code for it, if they ever absolutely have to. But today they don't, so they won't. They caught the suspect. That's that. The suspect ran into one of the many abandoned buildings in the area and they caught him. Nothing else of note.

Oh, and if POV Officer is worried about the hand, he shouldn't be. The police here have known demons were real for years before Redgrave, and they're pretty sure Dante's one of the nice ones. When he says he'll be fine, hell be fine. Officer 2 has some good stories about him getting shot in the chest and getting tight bacm up, actually...

...

And so a crazy day comes to an end. The suspect's been caught, the streets are safe, and that's that. Nothing else happened. Nothing at all.

If POV Officer starts sprinting in the opposite direction when he sees a certain tall, white haired, blue eyed, blue wearing man when he's walking down the street later that week, it's for no reason at all.

[stitchwraith-stingers]

i avoid so many fnaf fans bcuz they just like. hate everything. and im not saying u arent allowed to dislike anything in this series by all means be a hater but it feels like they cant move past like atleast the first half of security breach which ok why r u here if ur just so miserable all the time . pls go find an actual good horror game u enjoy instead of staying here and going i like this but not really :/// i like it except for everything about it

[lazarus-lazuli]

i might be autistic tbh bc whenever someone comes at me with a nasty attitude instead of getting offended or angry i am just Shocked. like speechless. flabbergasted. not even in a “how could you be mean to me, i am just a wittel forest creture i cannot change this 🥺” way but in a “how in the actual fuck am i meant to respond to that’ type of way

[icterid-rubus]

Sorry, not watching any more American media until we can get a hero who parries a tiger attack by launching the animal at someone else.

[touchlikethesun]

honestly the greatest epiphany i've ever had is that people are people everywhere you go. it seems really banal to say it like that, and i know many will just shrug it off as obvious, but i do think that if more held that thought in the forefront of their mind, then there would be a lot less suffering in the world. terry pratchett has a great quote about this, and it bears repeating, if ever you find yourself thinking of people as not being people like you, you are wrong. you are wrong you are wrong. people are people, no if ands or buts.

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[fromevertonow]

Suzanne Collins is one of the few contemporary writers who realizes the importance of names in her stories and the significance they bear. They add so many layers to the story, additional meanings that otherwise would not have existed.

The original trilogy:

Katniss: named after a plant of which you can eat the roots. Her father taught her where to find it and told her that “as long as you can find yourself, you’ll survive” (quote may be a little bit off, but it’s from one of the early chapters in THG). Additionally, the leaves are in the shape of an arrowhead, referencing her skills with the bow which her father also taught her how to use.

Peeta: literally bread lmao. But bread is one of the basic nutritions humans need, a little bit goes a long way to keep you alive. Peeta’s presence in Katniss’s life also kept her alive, literally and figuratively—the burned bread he threw her in the flashback and their complicated relationship.

Primrose: a plant with medicinal purposes, even more significant in light of her work as a medic in Mockingjay.

Gale: literally means “strong wind” and considering that in every encounter with Katniss he’s caused some reaction, he pulls her into directions she maybe initially doesn’t want to go in. Additionally, his name also represents his determination and steadfastness in his beliefs.

TBOSAS

Lucy Gray: named after William Wordsworth’s poem “Lucy Gray” which is about the titular character of the poem who got lost during a blizzard. She literally got lost in snow. Rachel Zegler sang this poem in two parts on the original soundtrack of the movie. When Snow asked who the girl in the song is, Lucy answers that she’s a mystery, just like her.

Snow: aside from the obvious snow references, I think his name is most significant in relation to Lucy and the poem. The only one who knows what caused her disappearance is Snow. He is the reason that Lucy is gone. But her traces in the snow are still visible. He will always remember her because the memory of Lucy has manifested itself in every part of his life.

Coriolanus: named after the Roman general (and also the titular character of Shakespeare’s play), Coriolanus wanted to attack Rome and become its ruler. He was scorned and celebrated by the people, only to be later exiled from the city by them. In TBOSAS, Coriolanus is the star pupil at the Capitol’s academy but sent into exile to the districts after he won the Games with Lucy through cheating.

Volumnia: Coriolanus mother who played a part in his ascent to power. In TBOSAS, she almost serves like a mentor to Coriolanus, teaching him how to think in terms of power.

(Edit) Sejanus: a roman soldier who was betrayed by the roman emperor Tiberius, just like the future president betrayed him.

(Edit) Plinth: got this info from here, but it was too good not to include here. A plinth is a base for a statue or vase to stand on. After Sejanus’s death, all of the Plinth fortune was given to Snow for being such a good to friend him. It was this money that skyrocketed the Snow family from poverty to filthy rich. The Plinth money was the foundation upon which Snow built his power.

There are so many other names that have historical (mostly Roman and Greek) connotations—Plutarch, Seneca, Cinna—but also regular names like Trinket and Beetee bear meanings that represent the character beautifully.

Names are important. For any lover of literature or (aspiring) writers, please look closely at them. They can shape your story into something unique.

Feel free to correct me if I’ve said something wrong. I know there are many names missing, but I can only add so many examples ✊🏻😔

[hellfire--cult]

Long Distance Bf!Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

wc: 17.7k

+18 reader is a gamer, talk about games, long distance, pining, sex toys, mentions of phone sex and video sex, established relationship, slight angst, reader being insecure, kissing, oral (f and m), rough, spit, dirty talking, p in v (unprotected), eddie being a sweetheart as well as a perv in a good way

Summary: You didn't plan it, but through a game lobby you met the person who would become your long distance boyfriend. The time came for him to visit you for the first time after five months of dating... and you are not going to hold back.

a/n: thank you to @ghost-proofbaby for proofreading and fixing so much shit, as well as @andvys cause these bitches betaread almost every filth i write. this was supposed to be a v-day fic, so happy belated valentine's day.

Please reblog, be kind.

NO MORE BUFFERING

“Eddie, what kind of internet do they have in Hawkins? You’re lagging like shit… again.”

“Don’t disrespect it–” Silence, a robotic voice coming in making you roll your eyes. “–It’s a small town–” and again. “–You know.”

“No, cause I didn’t hear half the shit you said.” He froze on the screen for a second before the call dropped. A second later, your phone started ringing, making you scoff with a smile, answering the video call. 

“I am so tired of this shit, sweetheart.” You saw his mop of curls coming into view as he placed the phone standing straight on his desk. You saw he was shirtless as he put cream on his hair, one of your requests after seeing the dryness and open ends on them.

“I told you to call the company many times!” 

“It’s not the company, Hawkins is shit.” You giggled at his outburst, feeling your cheeks flush the more you looked at the expanse of his chest. The arms covered in tattoos, and you could see the happy trail going down into his sweatpants, which were too low, and his bush started sticking out a bit. “You done checking me out?”

“You’re hot.” You heard him chuckle on the other side of the screen. Your lovely boyfriend just posed for the camera, pretending to be in a vogue magazine or something. You giggled as you felt your cheeks heat up. No matter how many months had passed, he would still make you feel giddy and nervous. Who would have thought that the stranger standing on the other side of the screen would become your long distance boyfriend?

You didn’t plan it, really. It just happened.

Since you were little you liked playing video games. You adored it. Unlike some of the girls and boys in your school who did sports and stuff, you preferred to stay home with your Playstation 1, then the second one, then the Wii, then your first computer to play on. You made friends along the years, but then those friends lost interest in video games.

Nowadays, you have a full on gamer setup built in a room of your apartment. You also had studied Video Game 3D blending and you have a very well-paying job at a game producer company. You were basically living the life you always wanted to have. Your friends didn’t mind that you were a hermit or a little introvert with yourself. They learned to love you that way, often just laying on the bed as you play games, just being there for company, and you greatly appreciated that.

The problem was, none of your friends played online, and you were sick and tired of going into teams with random people in Call of Duty, and you were also disgusted and fed up with the men that just insulted you in game just because you were a woman, even if your score was better than what they did. They just kept insulting you, reporting you, and you encountered maybe just one woman every night in the lapse of ten matches. 

So, you opened your Discord app, where you can join community servers of fandoms, and you joined the Call of Duty official server. You wanted to build a team, or to join one where they would not judge you. Maybe you could find an all-girl team in there. Your mouse moved around, looking through the topic channels to find what you were looking for. Finally, there it was.

‘Team finder.’

You decided to give it a try and joined that channel, seeing the people messaging each other, some asking for teammates and revealing their status in the game. You were pretty high in rank, so you were trying to look for a team that had the same one or close. Suddenly, a user that went by ‘i wear weird al shirts’ sent a message.

‘Looking for just one more teammate. We are looking for either a diamond or crimson rank!’

Your heart beat a little bit rapidly as you replied to them, telling them you were crimson rank. You received a message request later, privately, and you saw it was that same username, introducing themselves as Dustin. You checked their profile card, seeing they went by he/him. You were very respectful with the online community’s pronouns, so you always made sure to get them right.

He told you that they have a server for the teammates only, but that they would like to test how they feel with your gaming ability first. You licked your lips a bit and hovered over your keyboard, wondering if you should tell him you are in fact a woman. But you don’t know the rest of the team, so there might be another girl in there. 

You gave Dustin your username, immediately receiving an invite in game. You joined the crew. You entered a very silent lobby, the other five people inside but not talking. You assumed that they were talking to each other in that private discord. You now hovered on your hot key to push to talk in game, but you didn’t quite want them to know you were a woman yet. Finally, one talked.

“Hello! I’m Gareth!”

“You are just going to give out your name like that? Christ.” Three guys for now. So you got Dustin, Gareth, an annoyed person and you are left to know two more. 

“Stop having a stick up your ass, Mike. I’m Jeff.” Another guy.

“I’m Eddie, the most handsome guy in here.” You saw the speaker icon at the top of their characters light up each time they talked.

“Shut up, Eddie. Let’s just play and see if this guy is any good.” This Mike dude was very irritable. Your eyebrow twitched when he called you ‘guy’. They thought you were a man.

“Hang on, maybe it’s a lady!” The character of the guy named Gareth lit up.

“As if.” Mike talked once more and your anger was slowly rising - you were committed to make this guy eat his fucking words. When you get angry in game, you get ten times better, and this stupid little man is gonna wish he got on your good side by the end of it.

“You ain’t going to present yourself, sugar?” The Eddie guy talked and you decided to type by now.

‘If by the end of the game you guys want me in your party, I will.’

“Fair enough.” He responded and you sighed in relief. They went silent, and you could only guess they were talking on the discord again to each other. They started the game.

You got first kill.

First headshot.

The guys were cheering you on. Even the Mike guy was going insane over you.

You ended up as Player of the game. You smiled in triumph as you laid back on your chair. The guys cheered for you in the lobby, and you received a message from Dustin, the invite to a server called, ‘Hellfire Club’. What an odd name. They played nice, and they were fun with their commentary, the problem was if they would accept you when they learned you are a woman. One way to find out.

You clicked on the link, accepting the invite. You saw them all connected to the voice chat, and you felt your belly turning with nerves. You licked your lips as you took a deep breath in, seeing the messages in the chat to join them. You pressed on the voice chat, their voices blasting in your ears, cheering for you.

“Look who it is! Our champion! Our savior!” Dustin yelled and you smiled, containing a laugh. 

“May we ask for the name of our brilliant knight?” You saw Eddie’s icon light up at his voice. This was it.

“Lady.”

Silence. Radio fucking silence. This was the part where you get kicked out, wasn’t it? Or where they start bashing on you, or bully you, or assume you are cheating in the game. 

“Holy fucking shit!” The guy Jeff exclaimed as they started laughing, Dustin’s icon lighting up then.

“Mike, you better fucking apologize cause she carried your sorry ass just now!” You rolled your eyes, not even thinking the guy would properly apologize but–

“I am so sorry, I am forever in your debt.” Your eyes widened and then you saw on your other monitor how, thanks to this match, Mike had ascended rank in game. 

“Uh, no problem.” You didn’t want to make your voice cheery, or high pitched with emotion, just in case you would annoy these guys. Eddie talked again through chuckles.

“We have a goddess in our land, boys, we gotta behave.” You sat there, expectantly as you waited for everyone to settle down. Then Eddie, who you saw was the one who created the server to begin with, talked to you again. “Does the goddess have a name?”

You gave your name softly, and each guy greeted you properly. You were stunned at this change of scenery. These guys were chill with you, but you really do wonder–

“Aren’t you guys freaked out that a girl is playing with you?”

“Are you kidding? One of our members was a girl too, she kicked ass, the sister of a friend. She started school so she is not able to play with us as much as before!” Dustin explained and your mouth fell open at that. They didn’t care if you’re a girl. They just cared that you played nice. 

“Ahem, sweetheart.” Your body straightened up at the pet name, not disliking it at all for some reason. “You wanna join Hellfire?”

Every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday, you all played together for hours. Mostly were wins thanks to you and Eddie, then there were some losses, but not a single game was toxic. They raged sure, but you weren’t far behind.

“COCK SUCKING SLUT, YOU FUCKING CHEATING PIECE OF SHIT!” You yelled loudly, ready to throw your controller across the room because you knew you found someone using a bot to aim perfectly at the head. 

The boys’ laughter resonated in your ear, and Gareth was always the one to try to calm you down. You were so happy to have found a group that liked you, that had fun with you, and honestly was super interactive. The boys shared their foods, purchases, even clothes they bought in the general chat of the server. They showed their pets as well, Eddie, you and Jeff being the only two who didn’t own any.

You confessed you’ve always wanted a rat, and while most of the guys disagreed, Eddie was on your side 100%. He found rats cute, and he knew that they are as intelligent as a seven month old puppy.

One night in particular, after a month of talking with them, they decided to have a drinking night with you. Even if they were close to each other in distance, they stayed in their homes so that you could join and not feel left out. You were so thankful for them, but that meant you would be on camera for the first time. You wondered what they imagined you looked like, and you wondered how they looked like as well. They never shared pictures in the chat, and you never shared yours. You assumed they just wanted to keep their privacy. They knew each other in real life, unlike you.

So you got yourself out of your hermit clothes, put on makeup, even did your hair a bit. You put on an oversized sweater and prepared your beer in front of your PC. You took a deep breath in as you fixed the camera at the top of your monitor and you looked at yourself in the preview before joining the voice chat. You could see everyone pinging you, hurrying you, and you finally clicked the button.

The boys cheered as you came on the screen. You saw how they clapped and whooped. Only one person was not saying anything and– Oh fuck… 

You didn’t expect Eddie to look like that. You didn’t expect Eddie to look like your type. Oh, fuck. And he wasn’t talking. He wasn’t saying anything, why?

“Hey, Munson, you alright there?” Jeff asked with a snicker on his lips, which made Eddie finally snap out, his curls falling on his face. You didn’t know if it was because of the lighting or what, but his face turned slightly red. 

“Yep, totally fine. I’m just bummed I have to give up my throne.” Your eyebrows met in the middle a bit, staring into his camera only.

“Your throne?”

“Prettiest from the group, duh.” At his words, Gareth whistled, Mike and Dustin laughing with a cringe, but you felt yourself flush all over. It’d been a while since you got complimented like that, but that was because you truly never went out. You can’t even remember when was the last time you had sex. Your dildo doesn’t count.

“I beg to differ.” You commented and that seemed to catch Eddie off guard, because he choked a bit with his saliva. Jeff laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera.

“You guys want us to leave?” And was it evil for you to wish that? A bit. You chuckled and shook your head as you raised your can towards the camera.

“I thought this was a drinking night?”

After that camera call, it seemed the boys were keen to keep putting the cameras when in the voice chat. You did as well, taking them grocery shopping and to the pet store to look at rats, the only one aww’ing at them being Eddie. But there was one particular call where Jeff, Gareth and Eddie were together while Mike and Dustin were not online.

“Welcome to your first Corroded Coffin concert, sweetheart!” You were in awe as you saw them play, but Eddie– Eddie caught your eye. He had been catching your eye for a while, and after exchanging instagrams with everyone, that attraction only grew. 

But what were you thinking? He lived in Indiana, you lived in Virginia. This was just attraction over a guy you’ll probably meet in a year if this online thing doesn’t fall apart. It’ll go away. It had to.

Yet there was one night, where Mike, Dustin, Eddie and you were playing together, Dustin and Mike telling you that they were heading to bed. You pouted a bit on camera, not really wanting to go to sleep, but you knew the gaming night was over. You said goodbye to Mike and Dustin, about to say goodnight to Eddie as well, but–

“I’m not tired, you wanna stay on call with me, sweetheart?”

One call turned to two, to three, to four, to times when you both pretended to be offline so you could call each other privately. You watched movies, talked about TV shows, about one another’s lives, likes and dislikes, and soon, your attraction turned into a crush. Your heart raced whenever you called him, whenever you woke up with good morning messages from him, and then you called each other every single day. 

You shouldn’t have done this. You were now with a crush on a man who lived miles away from you. And maybe he didn’t even feel the same for you, just that he found a new friendship in you and maybe he just wanted a feminine touch in his life.

“This movie fucking sucked ass, Eddie.” You laughed as you rubbed your eyes, the credits of the movie you two watched together rolling up. You looked at his face as he laughed into his hands in shame.

“This is what I get for following Steve’s suggestion, for fucks sake.” ‘Drag me to hell’, supposedly a great scary movie. Sure, if you think a possessed talking goat is scary.

“Tell Steve that if I ever meet him, I’m tying him to a chair so he forcefully watches the ridiculous 6. That will cause him an aneurysm.” You heard him scoff, putting a hand to his chest in feigned offense.

“Take that back right now!” You could only giggle, shaking your head.

“No, I’m standing by what I said.” 

“Take it back–”

“Make me.” Suddenly he went silent and your smile fell. Did you fuck it up? Did you go overboard with that?

“Do you want me to?” His voice was not playful, no… it was flirty… Oh, he was flirting with you. Eddie was flirting with you. 

“Mmm, I don’t know. Depends on how you do it.” This time you heard him groan, your heart beating out of your chest as he leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the camera and the screen, probably looking at you.

“Okay, I think it’s time we cut to the chase, shouldn’t we, sweetheart?” 

“What do you mean?”

“I enjoy being alone with you here, do you enjoy being alone with me?” You felt your body flushing all over, sweat appearing on your fingertips.

“I do… a lot.” And he nodded. You noticed how he nervously looked at the camera and then at the screen. He ran a hand through his hair before he spoke again.

“Darling… I know it’s fucking stupid, and– Kind of weird– but, fuck… I have never met a girl like you. In my entire fucking life. I mean– Who the fuck listens to the Sims 1 soundtrack on the daily?” Your eyes widened at that, gasping.

“I do! It’s very comforting!” He only chuckled, shaking his head.

“And something I never heard in my life… You’re weird.” His eyes were soft as he looked at you. You bit your bottom lip as you played with your fingers on your lap. 

“Is that a good thing?”

“I really like you, sweetheart.”

And the words took a while to process in your brain. This guy that never got to touch you, or see your entire body, likes you. He just does. He likes you because of who you are, not exactly how you look. The cameras on were just a plus to make the calls even more personal, which only made your crush grow bigger.

A smile spread on your lips as you saw him covering his face with his hair, acting shy, peeking through it as if he were hiding. He was cute. Such a dork. And so handsome… and gentle. Caring. He bought you a plushie you wanted from Kingdom Hearts that you saved in your wishlist. You were surprised when you received it, not knowing if you accidentally bought it, but the note inside made your heart melt on the spot.

‘Happy birthday, my goddess.’

“I really like you too, Eddie.”

So no, you didn’t plan it. You didn’t plan to date someone online for five months. You presented him to your friends and even if a little weirded out, they really didn’t expect something else coming from you. They were happy you found someone, even if not in the practical way. 

The boys already knew. They had confessed to you, embarrassing Eddie in the process, that he never stopped talking about you. He praised you whenever he could, reminding everyone you were a lady and beautiful and that you had to be respected. 

But in a relationship come needs. Eddie is handsome. He is… well, he is hot. You find him extremely attractive, inside and out. Your dildo could be named Eddie at this point from how many times you used it and called his name out loud, pretending your pink dildo was his cock. 

So, in one bold movement, after a month of properly dating, you decided to do your first bold move. You sent him a suggestive picture of your cleavage. 

‘Should I wear this top for Heather's party?’ 

It had taken him a moment to reply to you, making you wonder if he was busy or if he was just staring at your picture. You started second guessing yourself, wondering, again, if you had gone too far, only for your phone to ping.

‘Sweetheart, do you want me to die?’

‘Why? I’m just asking a simple question…🥺’

‘Can you send more pictures? Or a video works best, I need to do a thorough inspection to give a verdict.’

And the sexting part began. Then the pictures were no longer suggestive, just plain nude. He started that one after you sent a picture of yourself in your lacey underwear and bunny ears in front of your full-length mirror.

‘I’m so fucking hard right now, darling, you have no fucking idea.’ He sent this message with a blurred picture attached. You knew what it could be but– You were not prepared. You were not prepared for what you saw. Not only was it big. Not only it was curved. But Eddie had a tattoo along the shaft. He had Sindarin markings on the underside. 

It made you wet in an instant. 

Sexting turned into phone sex with video calls. He saw you, you saw him. He saw you fucking yourself in your dildo as you moaned his name, and you saw him fuck his hand to yours. It was daily, if not every two days. You had never done this before, but fuck if it wasn’t hot. Hot, yet not enough. 

Which brings you to five months into the relationship, and the present day.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He called out as you hummed, still looking at his body as if you were daydreaming. He laughed, leaning over to look into the phone camera. “Stop drooling over me, for just a second.”

“No way, not possible, live with it.” He shook his head at you, his smile faltering slightly with nerves and you tilted your head in wonder as you felt your stomach flip with nervousness. “What’s wrong–”

“Nothing is wrong. I promise! But uhm… well… With the new job, I managed to… kind of save up.”

“For what?”

“Visiting you.”

Your brain short-circuited. You had explained to Eddie that you couldn’t visit him for a while, not until your video game project was done with, and your work days were never set. You couldn’t take your PC with you, so you had to stay home. 

“What?”

“I– Tell me to fuck off if you’re not comfortable, I just– I really want to see you. There’s… a flight on… Valentine’s day.”

You felt yourself melt in your seat as you heard his words. He wanted to meet you for the first time and not on just any day. Valentine’s day. You knew Eddie had been struggling with finding a good paying job a few months back, finally landing a good one as a mechanic in his town.

“You… You got a new job and instead of saving up for the new guitar–”

“I saved up to finally meet you, yes– but if you tell me you’re not ready, I’ll go and just buy–”

“Yes… please…” And you two stared at one another for a few seconds, your heart beating wildly in your throat as he stood there.

“I– Yes?”

“Yes, I want you to come here, Eddie.” 

You saw him walk backwards cheering with his fists in the air, and you smiled as he jumped excitedly, his hair bouncing all around him. You saw his uncle Wayne opening the door to see what Eddie was doing, and you couldn’t help but snort as Eddie stopped and pointed at his phone.

“I’m meeting my girlfriend!”

“Okay? Uh–” Wayne looked at you and nodded in greeting, “Hi sweetheart.”

“Hi, Wayne.” His uncle didn’t live with Eddie, but he came to visit often and even stayed for a day or two at his home. At Eddie’s request. It seemed Eddie wanted independence, but he was too attached to Wayne. He had explained to you about his past, about his family, and it was completely understandable that he couldn’t let Wayne go that easily. 

“Keep it down, I’m excited for you two, but your neighbors will complain again.” And like that, he closed the door. The nerves invaded you once again and you saw Eddie rushing to grab the phone and taking you as he sat on the computer. You saw him typing away, and you knew he was looking to book that flight right away. 

You saw the concentration in his scrunched-up features, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth as he squinted at the screen, clicking away. Excitement built in your belly as you looked at him. As you looked at a guy that just lived far away, yet you’ve never felt more connected to in your entire life.

A guy you fell in love with, despite the recent connectivity issues.

“BOOKED!” He yelled excitedly and you giggled, covering your mouth as you thrashed around, finally realizing you would meet him. You would meet Eddie. You would meet your boyfriend for the very first time, and on Valentine’s day to top it off. That would be a month away, and you could tell your work to give you a breather the week he stays with you, to not bother you as much.

You were excited… but nervous as fuck.

What if he doesn’t like you? What if he sees you and is disgusted? Should you kiss him as a greeting? Were the flowers in your hand too stupid to give to him? He said he liked them, so you got him some because men also deserve flowers on Valentine's day. You were standing at the Arrivals gate, just where Eddie had told you he would get off on. 

You had prepared your home from top to bottom, cleaned it all up, and you even went to get a Bikini Wax with Heather. You exfoliated your skin, put on some lotion, and you were going a little bit crazy with it– But, was today the day? Not only were you going to meet him, but should it also be the time where you could confess to him?

You didn’t know if it was too soon or not, being the first time you ever fell in love for real in your life. You were pretty sure it was love. How could it not be? Eddie had not answered you for a whole day once, and you could not get in contact with him at all. His location was also off. Your first thought was very dark, afraid he had gotten into an accident with his motorcycle or something. You had called Gareth and you demanded him to go take you to Eddie.

You made him go to Eddie’s house while on a video call with you, and when he arrived and knocked on the door, Wayne had answered. Eddie had caught Mono. You were relieved yet the stress didn’t leave you at all. Wayne showed you Eddie’s state on video, and you saw him breathing at least, with a warm towel on his forehead and all. 

When he started messaging you back, you told him you were relieved but you had asked Wayne for his own phone number just in case. You remember Eddie being touched by how much you cared, and the fact that Wayne trusted you enough to give him his personal information just for the sake of knowing Eddie was okay.

You were clearly in love, and gone. You were holding flowers, balloons in the shape of bats and hearts. You looked silly, but you noticed some people looking at you with smiles on their faces, knowing you were most likely hopelessly in love waiting for your partner. They were absolutely right.

Suddenly, the doors opened and you held your breath in as people started walking out. You saw a family getting back together, then an old lady and a man who brought her flowers, kids greeting their mother. You were nervously waiting and– did you get the gate wrong? Maybe you did? Should you check your phone to make sure? That is nonsense, you checked like forty times, but maybe you looked at it wrongly–

And then, you saw him, dressed all in black, guitar strapped to his back, his hair pulled up in a bun, his left hand dragging the carry on. His other hand? It was holding a rat plushie with cotton flowers in its hands. You felt your eyes burning as you saw him looking around, your heart literally about to jump out of your chest and your stomach twisting with vines of nerves. This would be it. You did small little jumps with your feet, rising your heels and then putting them back down, over and over again and–

His eyes finally clashed into yours. His face lit up instantly, a smile spreading from ear to ear, his dimples showing off completely. He was so beautiful in real life and you just felt complete. You felt so giddy, something you never thought you would feel for someone else, at least not in the way you met that someone.

You bounced on your feet excitedly, smiling widely at him. His face, still smiling, made a confused frown as he looked around at what you got him. His feet started working, rushing your way as you waited by the limit. You were finally going to hold him. You were finally going to feel his warmth and spend time with him and–

You heard a huge thud of something falling and then big arms closed around you. Your arms wrapped around him, trying to not let go of his gifts but you felt like crying from how happy you felt. How whole you suddenly became. To be able to hug the person you have been talking to for months, that you have shown the most intimate parts of yourself.

His face was deep in the crook of your neck and shoulder, and you realized he had thrown the carry on to the ground as well as the plushie he got you. It was okay. You didn’t care. You felt his hands all over your back as if he was holding something so precious that he was afraid it would fall apart if he let go. And maybe, it would. Now you don’t know how you will be able to keep going with your daily life once he is gone. How you’ll keep going without his hugs, kisses and–

You flushed all over as your thoughts became impure, in just one single instant. Oh, he smelled good. He smelled so fucking good. You were in such bliss, you didn’t want to let go, but you knew you had to. You felt him pulling away for a second, his eyes meeting yours and you held your breath tightly as you waited for him to kiss you. He was going to, wasn’t he?

“Are these for me?” He suddenly asked and you were so stunned, looking down to your hands and you smiled widely, giving the flowers to him, as well as the balloons. He chuckled as the smile never left his lips. You saw a hint of a blush on his cheeks as he looked at them. “I never received flowers in my life– Valentine’s day gifts at that.” 

“Me neither.” He smiled at you, putting all the gifts in one hand so he could bend down and pick up the plushie that had those cotton flowers in the middle. You squealed loudly as you grabbed it, inspecting it. Suddenly you caught on a scent, making you lean forward and smell it, and– It’s him. It’s his cologne. 

“Sprayed it myself. I may have put a cloth inside and stitched him up again for longer effects.” Your heart was in your throat as you felt overwhelmed with emotions. You hugged the rat tightly to your chest as Eddie stared down at you with a smile on his face. 

“Thank you…” Your voice was small and muffled into the plushie. You looked up at him with bright eyes, hopeful he would lean in, and you needed to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him. But–

“Should we go? I am in terrible need of a cigarette, sweetheart.” You giggled, nodding as he bent down to grab his carry on again with his free hand, and you two walked side by side. The people all around you looked weirdly your way but still kind of adoringly. It was a metalhead guy with flowers and balloons in his hand, of course they would look. 

You two walked through the airport, smiling like idiots. You wished you could hold his hand but he was not able to right now. You were wondering why he didn’t kiss you, and maybe you should? Maybe you should kiss him when you reach your car and he puts the things in the trunk. 

He talked to you about how Wayne made him share his location at all times, the old man worried his nephew was travelling to another state by himself even if where he went, he was not going to be alone at all. You took your free hand to message Wayne, sending him a selfie with you and Eddie, signaling that he arrived safely because Eddie could not grab his phone right now. Wayne sent you a simple ‘take care now, use protection.’ 

That message made you flush all over, knowing that it was something that was going to happen no matter what. Absolutely. Wasn’t it? You wanted it to happen but– What if Eddie didn’t want to? What if he just came here to spend time with you but not to engage in something intimate? Were you looking too much into it? You literally had video sex with each other, so it not happening would be… weird… wouldn’t it?

But maybe… he doesn’t want to after seeing you? Maybe that’s why he didn’t kiss you?

Your self doubt was starting to slowly eat you alive as you reached the car where you parked. He put his carry on inside the trunk and the balloons as well because they would just not let you see on the rearview mirror, plus you might be stopped thanks to them. You bit your lip once you heard the trunk slam shut, Eddie turning your way with a smile on his face. 

“So, ready to take me to your castle, my lady?” You giggled as you nodded, ready to take a step forward in order to be able to tippy toe and signal him you wanted a kiss, but he immediately rushed to the passenger’s side after putting the guitar into the backseat, making you frown slightly. 

You went into the driver’s seat, putting the plushie to sit in the backseat so you could drive while Eddie held his flowers on his lap. He was surprised you had gotten him roses, and he couldn’t stop lavishing over them. As you drove, you put music for each other, and he was babbling away about how the guys wanted to have a call with the two of you together on camera.

“Oh, that’s kinky.” Was your comment and you noticed Eddie nervously chuckling and– Was he nervous? Shit, were you too forward? You didn’t take into account he was as nervous as you. Maybe that’s why he is not making any moves? Not even holding your thigh? 

Fuck, you wanted to jump on him and you had to calm down.

Once you got into your small complex, he was in awe when he entered your apartment. It was big for just one person, and he knew your apartment by now. You had given him a tour but it seems that showing him through video it may have looked a bit smaller than what he had expected. He put the carry on at the entrance as well as the balloons. 

“We should put these in water, I don’t want them to go bad.” He commented, still holding onto the flowers which warmed your heart. You guided him into the kitchen, grabbing a vase and filling it with water, letting him put the flowers in it. Your plushie was left on the dining table so now, your hands were free as well as his. It was already night time, and you just wanted to hold him right now, needing to feel him in your arms again and–

“Did you have dinner yet?” You asked, wanting to cringe at yourself. The air was a little tense, and your self doubt and nervousness was making you feel a little awkward. Maybe it’s not what he expected?

“I didn’t actually, and as far as I remember sweetheart, you told me there was a pizza place here that was fucking delicious.”

“Pete’s. And it will be the best pizza you ever had.” You smiled up at him, swaying a little as you put your hand on the counter. You saw him breathing a bit heavily, nervously, and he cleared his throat.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He smiled and you realized he was not going to make a move at all. You don’t want to hover over him, or read the signs wrong. Fuck. You were becoming restless, even more when you sent a message to the pizza place so you could order and for them to deliver it to your house. 

Meanwhile, Eddie was walking around your apartment, gushing over all the consoles you had. He knew you had them but it was still amazing to him to see them there. He explained to you how he could only afford the Playstation 2 when he made money out of selling weed at his school. You could only smile through your nerves as you both waited for the pizza, sitting on the couch… rather apart. 

Why was he far away? Did he not want to hold you in the same way you wanted to hold him? It was Valentine’s day and he was sitting on the far end of the couch, and you have waited for months for this moment. Should you really take the initiative here? Were you giving wrong signals? No, you’re pretty sure you aren’t. You have batted your eyelashes, you have brushed your fingers against his when handing him the can of beer, your eyes went to his lips many times and he either was not seeing it or– he was playing dumb.

Dark clouds invaded your mind as you went to the bathroom, messaging Heather immediately.

‘He is not doing anything.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He hasn’t even tried to kiss me yet, and the pizza is about to arrive, and all we did was talk, which is nice, but we’ve been doing that for five fucking months.’

‘Okay, maybe you should kiss him? Or just talk to him?’

‘What if he doesn’t…?’ You felt like your heart was about to burst as you thought of that possibility. What if you weren’t what Eddie expected in real life? What if it became way too real for him that he was now regretting ever coming to your house? What if he regretted breaking the illusion that he had of just looking at the screen?

‘I’m sure there’s an explanation… talk to him, don’t be a fucking idiot.’

You heard the doorbell ring and you flushed the toilet, pretending you went in there to just do your business. You walked out to see Eddie looking at the intercom with a frown in his face, seeing the pizza guy on the camera.

“How the fuck do I talk to him?” You laughed as you walked towards it, standing next to Eddie, pressing the button to talk.

“Hi Pete, come on up.” 

“Thank you, honey!” The old man said as you pushed the open front gate button. Eddie’s eyebrows raised in awe at it and then he frowned.

“Wait, Pete?”

“Yeah, the owner!” You smiled at him as you walked to your door, standing on your tippy toes to look through the peephole, your hips swaying excitedly as your mouth watered. You felt eyes on you, but maybe you were just making it up in your mind so that the horrible thoughts would go away from you. You saw Pete coming over and you immediately opened the door, a smile on your face.

“Hello lovely.” He greeted you and you grabbed the pizza from his hands, handing him the money and the large tip you always give him. “You know you always give me too much.”

“No, I don’t. Don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man rolled his eyes and then he saw Eddie standing behind you, waving at him. 

“Oh, what a lucky guy you are!” You felt your cheeks burn up as you giggled nervously.

“That I am, Pete!” You heard Eddie say and that just made you feel even more confused than before. The old man smiled, tipping his head down once and gave you both a nod.

“Well, I better leave you two alone. Happy Valentine's!” With that, Pete turned and left, letting you close the door and lock it. He could get out of the gate with a button he could press from the inside, so you didn’t have to bother with that one. The smell of pizza filled your nostrils and you moaned in delight as you walked towards the couch.

“This smells so fucking good.” You sat down, looking back to see Eddie just blinking, staring at nothing. “Eddie?”

“Oh–” He snapped out with a shake of his head, his curls bouncing around. “Yeah, yeah, it does.” 

He rushed to sit next to you, and you turned on the TV to at least put something as background noise. You decided to put ‘The Office’ which Eddie and you had binge watched together, having never seen it before. When you opened the box, you saw that Pete had followed your instructions, a smirk appearing in your face. Eddie’s eyes widened, a laugh escaping his lips.

“Oh my god.” He saw the pizza in the shape of a heart, and you giggled at how amazed he looked staring down at it. “How am I supposed to cut into this masterpiece? There’s absolutely no way.”

“Well, we do have to eat.” And that you both did. You dove in, the voices of the show in the background as he gushed over the pizza, and he had to agree with you that it was in fact the best he’s ever had. He told you that the pizzas back in Hawkins will now taste like cardboard compared to this masterpiece.

“Tell Pete he is a god. Like a literal god because, holy fuck.” You heard him groan in delight as he licked his fingers, wiping his hands with a napkin as he collapsed on the backrest of the couch, his eyes closed as if he were full. He only ate two slices, and Eddie was used to eating at least four. You once saw him eat a full sized pizza, claiming he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. 

“I’ll tell him.” You didn’t want to sound tense or irritated, but you were so happy to have him here and now you didn’t know if you were being selfish for wanting something more to happen, or if you were sad because nothing was happening at all, or if you were anxious and fearful of the possibility that Eddie did not like you in person, as much as he liked you online. 

You grabbed the remaining pizza with the box, surprised still that there are slices left. You also didn’t eat much thanks to the nerves, something your stomach would yell at you later at night, but for now, you were afraid of puking it all out. You stood up and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge to place the entire box in there, not wanting to deal with putting it away in tupperwares to save space.

What should you do now? Should you follow Heather’s advice and talk to him? But what if you make everything become a little more tense than what it already was now? You didn’t know what to do, and Eddie was not helping your case at all. You sighed as you washed your hands in the sink, letting the grease be washed away. You dried your hands with the kitchen cloth before walking out, seeing that Eddie was no longer on the couch. 

You frowned, completely confused, until you heard the water of the sink in the bathroom. You grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, walking towards your room, where your whole setup was as well. The bed was completely pressed into a corner, your LED lights in a perfect purple hue, fairy lights in the shape of stars were lit up across the wall, holding pictures of your friends, your family, the boys back in Hawkins and Eddie. There were a lot of Eddie. 

The door of the bathroom opened, and you turned to see Eddie walking towards your room, his eyes widening at the color of the room and then the yellow from the fairy lights, as if it were a purple sky with stars. He walked further in, looking at your entire PC, whistling out loud. You could only stare at his back, dressed in all black, completely contrasting with your room. 

“Damn, look at this… The pictures don’t do it justice.” Your setup was big. You had three monitors, and a very well updated PC. You needed your computer to be able to have a very fast response time because of your work. Video game 3D blending required a lot from your PC so you always kept it up to date. 

“It was an investment when I started my studies, but I gave my mom her money back in the first three months of my job, even if it was three years later.” You explained and he nodded, looking all around your room, for his eyes to then fall on your bed and then the pictures above it, attached to the fairy lights. 

You looked at his profile as he inspected them, and your heart was bursting with need, lava from a volcano just exploding right inside it. You couldn’t hold it in. The guy in your pictures was no longer far away from you. He was no longer miles and miles away, where you could not touch him. He was in your room. He was here with you. He was standing in front of you.

“Didn’t know you hung these up…”

And you exploded.

“Why?” 

His head turned to look at you, a frown appearing in his face as you stared at him. His face softened when he saw how you were looking at him. Your face was showing him distress, confusion, nervousness, and a bunch of questions that were at the tip of your tongue.

“Why what?” He asked, a nervous smile appearing on his lips and– Now you definitely know something was wrong. You could absolutely see it. You stepped forward and you saw how he stiffened in place. You didn’t know what was going on, but at least he didn’t move away from you because you were able to finally step close to him. Your head tipped back so you could properly look up at him.

“Why don’t you do something?” You saw his gulp, how his eyebrow twitched and his smile fell, and you could feel your entire inside crumble apart. Was he going to tell you now that you weren’t what he had expected? That it became way too real for him that he could barely handle it?

“Darling…”

“Am I not– You don’t like me? I– Am I not what you expected?” Your voice was small, and broken, your eyes burning with incoming tears, and his own widened, desperately reaching out for you to hold your biceps tightly, pulling himself closer to you.

“Don’t you ever think that. Not for a single damn second.” His voice was honest, rough with emotion, so now you were confused as he clenched his jaw. “You are way more than I– Than I fucking deserve to have. I have no idea how the fuck I even bagged someone like you.” 

“But– But I don’t understand… You haven’t even tried to kiss me, or hold my hand… You sat so far away from me–” He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath in. You blinked for a few seconds, and… did he lie to you? “Eddie… are you… a virgin?”

“WHAT?” His voice was loud, and it startled you, making you jump in your spot. His eyes pierced your skull almost in a glare, only to then soften as a sigh escaped his lips. “For fucks sake, I am not.” 

“Then I honestly don’t get it now.” You were angry. You started becoming irritable, annoyed, and you wanted answers. He took a deep breath in, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. His cologne made you calm down instantly, your heart skipping a beat from having him so close to you again. The closest he’s been with you today was the hug you received when seeing each other for the first time.

“I… I won’t be able to hold back.”

You blinked completely confused a few times, looking into his eyes for answers.

“What? What do you mean by that?” He sighed as his hands moved, sending chills down your entire body. They grabbed your waist, giving it a squeeze as he found his voice again.

“I didn’t want you to think I was meeting you right now just to wet my dick… I don’t want you to think that I came to visit you just for that…” 

Now you… you were enraged. 

“Are you a fucking idiot, Edward?” His eyes widened as he pulled his head back to look at your face. It was all tensed up with anger, eyes staring into his with a glare.

“I– Uh… what?”

“You made me fucking doubt myself all day, thinking I wasn’t what you expected! Or that– Or that this was way too fucking real and you became scared and you regretted coming here–” Your eyes started burning once again and you hated yourself for always tearing up when you started an argument. You always felt that stupid lump in your throat, even when you were angry, you got emotional. His eyes were wide, his head shaking from side to side like crazy.

“No, no, no! I’m so sorry I made you feel like that but… it wasn’t. No… It’s– The complete opposite of that.” The room started losing that tensed up air that was filled with anger and misunderstandings, your eyes now softening as you looked at him. His face looked flushed, his eyes were now a bit dilated, looking down at you with a different gaze, one you saw many times on video call when you changed in front of him.

“Then?”

“If I kiss you… I won’t be able to hold back… That’s why I haven’t done it all day. I would have, probably, broken a million laws.” You bit your lip as you looked up at him, your body rising in temperature the more you stared up at him and he looked down at you with that hunger in his eyes you knew too well.

“Eddie… I waited for this for months… I want it too…” Your arms went up to wrap around his shoulders, nerves turning your stomach inside out but they were good nerves. They were amazing nerves. His breath hitched only to then quicken, his hands squeezing your waist once again. “And I don’t want you to hold back.”

That seemed to be his green light. What seemed to be the last string holding him to rationality, and it was literally snapped by you. His lips immediately clashed into yours, sparks flying all around you as electricity ran all over your body. Goosebumps formed on your skin and you sighed happily into the kiss. It was soft, deep, but still not moving. 

He groaned into it and slowly pulled away with a smack, his breath hitting your lips, his eyes still closed. You felt his hands moving, wrapping himself around you, pulling you even closer. He pressed your body against his and you wanted to already moan with how warm he felt. You felt his lips peck yours again, and then pull away.

“Oh, fuck…” Then another peck, your bodies moving. “Fuck, sweetheart–” You didn’t know why he was cursing, yet he gave another peck, a longer one. “I’m done for.” And then one more kiss, “I’m so fucking done for.”

You finally felt your bed hit the back of your knees as his lips started moving against yours in a desperate manner. Nobody had ever kissed you like this. You’ve never felt as desired as you’re feeling right now. His hand went downwards to grab the back of your right thigh and pull it up, pressing it against his hip. His left knee then hit the bed, his other hand grabbing your other leg, and helping you up on the bed as he crawled into the middle of it with you. 

Your lips never separated, not for a single moment. You were chained to him, not wanting to let go at any second, feeling like it’s a lost one if you did. Your back was pressed into the mattress, as your head clashed against your pillow. You could barely breathe as his hands left your legs after he slotted himself right in between them. 

Your choice of clothes was now a pain to you. You should have put on something easier to take off, but you had chosen fucking pants. It was cold out, but it would have made this moment easier. His elbows came to rest against the mattress, one on each side of your head. 

His hips still did not press against yours and you were becoming a little needy, desperate. So, you raised your hips upwards and rubbed yourself on him, making him wince against the kiss, pulling away to look down in between your bodies. You felt the bulge, the big bulge you’ve always looked at and desired to have in your hands, in your mouth and inside. He groaned as his eyes turned to yours again. 

No words were exchanged as your hips were suddenly slammed into the bed again, a moan escaping your lips. He thrusted himself into you, giving you the wish of rubbing his hips against you. You sighed as your hands rubbed the back of his head, making you feel a little dizzy already. His lips immediately clashed with yours again, and you felt his hands all over you, just exploring all over your waist, hips, arms as his hips rubbed and rubbed and rubbed.

You moaned into the kiss, your body shivering when you felt the tip of his tongue entering your mouth, not even asking for permission and it wasn’t like he needed it. He didn’t. He could do whatever he wanted to you tonight. You were going to do whatever you wanted too. You both knew your likes and dislikes, what is okay and what is not. There was no need for questions or permissions.

He groaned into the kiss as you felt him twitch in his pants and against you. You clenched around nothing at all, and you wondered if you could cum by just him rubbing himself against you, because it felt like it. Your belly was burning. You were hoping you would not be able to walk after tonight, or after this entire week. 

Your breathing turned heavy, your hands grabbing at his denim jacket, pulling onto it by the shoulders, and he got the message. He pulled away for a second, ripping the jacket away from himself, only to desperately drop himself back on you, kissing you hungrily once more. The clothes felt constricting now and the heat all over your body was making it feel worse. His tongue was just abusing yours in the most delicious of ways. 

Eddie knew how to kiss. 

Eddie kept his movements on you, up and down, circling and then some dry humping against you that was making you see stars behind your eyelids. He was driving you insane, and your thong, the red lace set you wore today, a set you bought a few days ago with this exact intention, was becoming a wet sticky mess because of this.

You wondered if you were soaking through your pants now, maybe getting the front of his wet and damp too. He was rubbing against your clit in meditated rolls, hearing where you moaned the loudest. He was paying attention to every single detail and reaction he got from you, now learning your body in person and not through a screen. It was like the practical part of an exam, the oral part having passed flawlessly.

Your hips moved with his as his right hand landed on your breast, making your back arch against him with need. You whined into the kiss, and he pulled away from you, a gasp being let out by you. You were so sensitive. The emotions were making your entire body react to the simplest of his touches. 

“You are so fucking perfect.” Your mouth dropped open when his lips connected to the pulse point of your neck. His hand was still kneading your breast over your hoodie, those you loved to wear. Oversized and comfy, but right now, it was something you wanted to rip off of you as if it were burning your fucking skin.

“Eddie… Baby, I need to take it off–” He nodded desperately against you, but before leaving your neck, he gave a soft nibble with his teeth, making you whimper. He kneeled as you sat up, and before you could grab the hem of your hoodie, his hands were almost ripping it off from your body. He pulled it off of you in an instant, leaving you in just your tank top. You saw him lick his lips, and you wanted more, you needed more. Your hands instantly went to the hem of his shirt and he helped you, gladly, to take it off.

Your mouth watered as you saw the chest you’ve only been seeing through a screen for months, finally being able to touch it, kiss it and– Your tongue darted out, licking his chest in an upwards motion, your eyes closed. He threw his head back, shoving the shirt to the abyss, he didn’t care. Your hands scanned his sides, fingertips gliding against the skin, feeling him tense up and his chest hitch when your lips gave a kiss to it. 

He growled, cradling your cheeks in his hands, making you look up at him in a quick and rough motion you didn’t dislike, but it made you stop your kisses and kitten licks against his chest, over his tattoos. His lips crashed against yours again, deep and desperate only to then be pushed back down on the bed. He was towering over you, chest moving up and down rapidly, his eyes looking down at the button of your jeans. You gulped as you moved your hips to signal him he could move.

So he did. His hands instantly rushed to rip the button open and pull the fly down. Your nerves started coming back as he crawled backwards and he started tugging at your jeans, pulling them down and off your body desperately. Off they went, including your socks and then you felt your legs wanting to close but– You had prepared yourself for this. You should let him look, so you kept them spread. Once his eyes turned to look at you again, they were instantly glued to the red lace covering the wet heaven he had wanted to touch and taste for so long.

“Oh, and it’s all for me, isn’t it sweetheart?” His voice was deep, rough and sultry and it was as if he wasn’t really asking you, but more like he was reassuring himself in fact like he said. And it was.

“Mhm~ All of it, Eds…” Your voice small, pretending shyness, that shyness that drove him insane. You heard a growl coming from him, his clouded eyes still staring down at your moving hips, waiting for him to do something. You clenched around nothing when he roughly grabbed the back of your knees and pulled them apart even more, and away.

“Let me taste this pussy that’s been driving me crazy for fucking months.” Your breathing hitched at the possessiveness he was talking with. His hands moved and his arms hugged your thighs as his body lowered, his stomach pressing against the mattress as his face came to stare at your throbbing slit, and he could see how wet the lace was. How drenched and dark the fabric had gotten. 

You couldn’t even process his words that your mouth was falling in a silent ‘o’, his mouth latching on the thong like a leech. Sucking and licking on it and if it felt good like this, how would you feel when he uncovers it? Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as he kept licking pointedly into where your slit was, digging the fabric into it a bit.

Then he rode the tongue upwards, the pointy licks now against your clit, making you moan, letting the breath out of your lungs. Your body started feeling the heat travelling all over, and you should have touched yourself or something before he came over because you’re pretty sure you’re going to cum any second. 

He pulled away, his fingers grabbing onto the elastic of your thong, and he kneeled up to pull them down your legs. You helped him do just that and he smirked when he saw the little string of your wetness disconnecting from your center. That’s how wet you were. His jaw clenched when he finally got the thong off, but this one, he made sure to see where it landed, planning on taking it back with him. Probably frame it.

Your legs now did close while his head was turned, your knees together and leaning your way. You felt a little more exposed now, you couldn’t help it. It’s been a while since you had sex in general, this would happen no matter what. The shyness, the embarrassment. But when Eddie turned his head back around, he shook his head, glaring down at you.

“I’m having none of that.” His hands roughly grabbed onto your knees and he spread them apart, your center opening up for him, and you just flushed all over, feeling embarrassed but more aroused than ever. He was a starved man, no, animal. He was staring down at it as if it were the answer to all of his prayers. His body moved downwards, in the same position he was before, but this time, his hands gripped your inner thighs, keeping your legs spread. 

He was going to make sure to taste you completely.

His tongue darted out, finally pressing it against you, making you jerk upwards, completely taken aback by how good it felt and it was a simple press of the tongue. You were done for tonight. He hummed and moaned as he tasted you, and then–

“Fuck– Oh– Fuck!” Your voice was loud, your breathing loud as in one single moment Eddie was just looking at you after tasting you, and the next his mouth and tongue were everywhere. He sucked on your clit, kissed it, the tip of his tongue doing stripes in your center, up and down, teasing you about entering it. 

He was all over you, his fingers digging into your flesh, not caring if he leaves a mark, and if he does, good. Your head was thrown back into the pillow as he flicked his tongue back and forth on your clit, your hands flying to grab onto his head. He was still moaning, hips rutting into the mattress just by eating you out. You were absolutely delicious and he probably won’t get enough of you at all. 

“Better than what I imagined. So fucking sweet.” He hummed into you, and you felt your body start trembling, the pleasure making up a fog in your mind you hadn’t felt in so long. Suddenly, your eyes widened, feeling his tongue going inside, his nose hitting your clit as he made nodding moves with his head and his tongue moved around inside of you.

“Eddie– Eddie, baby, oh my god–” Your breathing was heavy, moaning his name out as if it were a god, and to you, he was one right now. Your belly clenched and burned and you could feel your climax creeping in by the minute. Eddie was happy to keep ravishing you, to keep tasting you, to keep making you fall apart. 

You felt one of his hands leave your inner thigh as well as his mouth, letting the air hit you and then a sharp breath, making your wetness become cold, a whimper ripping out of your throat. He chuckled as he saw your hips jerk from the air he blew, and then you tensed up when you felt his finger running through your slit to coat it with your juices. And then he entered. You wished he hadn’t taken his rings off to eat that pizza. You wanted those inside of you, he wanted them inside of you. He had told you as such.

His mouth bit the inside of your inner thigh as he kept moving his middle finger inside of you, feeling your warmth around him. Your back arched as he bit, and a moan ripped away from your throat. Your hands now gripped the pillow under your head, right by the edges. He started pumping his finger, in and out of you, and you were in bliss as you moaned his name in order to ground yourself in the moment.

So many fantasies in your head, of him touching you, of him moving on you, of his fingers entering you and making you see galaxies. You could only guess Eddie would be good with his fingers just by the fact that he played guitar. And, he was probing that fact right now and with just a single finger. 

He sucked on your skin as his eyes kept looking at how his finger glistened whenever it was pulled out of you. His hips kept rubbing against your mattress, the creaking of it ringing in his ears just by you moving your hips against his hand. He growled as he got his ring finger inside as well, and he finally curled his fingers inside of you. Your eyes widened, your head thrown back as you felt him inspect you, looking for something, rubbing and circling and wiggling and–

“OH–” Your hips jerked upwards at one particular movement. He quickly pressed his free hand on your hip, pushing you down to keep you in place, a smirk spreading on his lips.

“Found you.” Your body was combusting into itself as he kept abusing that part inside of you that no one ever bothered to find. No one ever bothered to look for it and you were feeling your body about to snap the more he rubbed his fingers against it. You were sure you were going to cum soon as you felt your belly start to turn, clench inside of you, and your walls fluttered around his fingers. There’s nothing that could make this better–

Except his tongue latching onto your clit as his fingers never stopped moving. You’ve never felt like this. Your hips were moving by themselves against him, needing more, and your moans were so loud that you were glad you had rented out a very thick walled apartment complex. You were probably heard anyways, but you honestly could care less right now.

He was sucking and biting on you and your body thrashed around as you kept your mouth open. Heavy breaths and moans escaping you without any restraint, not being able to feel anything else but the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. Then, the stars slowly started to appear as your walls clenched and unclenched in warning. 

“Ed– Eddie– I’m gonna–”

“Yes, fuck yes, cum for me. I’ve been waiting for it, cum for me.” And that was all the green light you needed as you back arched off your bed, your head turning to the side as your eyes clenched tightly, holding the pillow in a death grip and making it cover your mouth to try to stifle your sounds a little bit more. You clenched all around him, your orgasm crashing on you like a trainwreck, your belly just contorting into itself as you felt him quicken his movements, riding your orgasm out.

You were gasping as your body remained tensed up, the loud squelching of his movements becoming louder thanks to how wet you became as you came and you came and you came because it felt never ending. You didn’t even notice his mouth was no longer on you, his upper body hovering over you as his right hand kept moving inside of you as he held himself up with the other one against the mattress, right next to your head.

He was looking at your contorted face. A face he’s seen multiple times on camera, on pictures you especially took for him. You started to unclench as your body slowly relaxed, twitched every other second thanks to the aftershocks of your orgasm. It was the best and biggest one you ever had. You felt him stop his movements, slowly, until then he pulled out, making you sigh.

Your eyes opened, blinking a few times to center yourself and then you turned your head to see him looking down at you. You realized he had stared at you during your climax and you felt a little embarrassed but you couldn’t even speak that you saw the fingers that were inside of you come into your vision, your breath heavy as you stared at all the juices that were on them. His eyes went towards them, the wetness moving down his palm, towards his wrist. 

His tongue darted out to lick it away, from his wrist to his fingers before putting them into his mouth to taste you again. He moaned into them, closing his eyes, and your own were wide at how filthy everything was, yet so deliciously amazing. He got his fingers out of his lips with a pop and then he looked down at you once again after opening his eyes once more, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Delicious. You’re so fucking perfect… So perfect.” You whined at his praise, your hands reaching out, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he leaned back down, kissing you desperately. You tasted yourself in his mouth, on his tongue, and it was all a little intoxicating. But, even if your body twitched, trembled, you needed more. You were not satisfied. Your thighs closed on his hips as he pressed himself against you again.

You wanted him so much, so much that it was a little bit frightening to you. Now, it was your turn to become an animal. You used your strength to signal him you wanted to turn him. He followed your directions, letting himself fall and roll you two in a different position. You were now straddling him, chest against his as you kissed him desperately. He chased after you when you pulled away and sat back onto him. Your eyes were darkened, pupils fully dilated as your hips moved against his bulge and he hissed, his head rolling against your pillow. 

“You like that, baby?” You asked sweetly, and he groaned, nodding desperately. You bit your lip as you grabbed onto the hem of your tanktop and you ripped it off your body in just one second. His eyes were now glued to the matching red bra you had on. 

“Oh fuck… Please tell me you took a picture of yourself in this…” He asked, making you smirk and you had in fact taken one… or more. And maybe a video.

“If you behave, I’ll think about sending those to you.” He bit his bottom lips as his hips jerked upwards and you knew you were staining his jeans, but he didn’t care, nor did you. Not when you were about to take them off. You moved backwards, your eyes falling to his belt. Your hands undid it as quickly as they could. You were breathing rather heavily still, and if you had your tongue out, you bet you would be drooling with anticipation, knowing what was under these pants and boxers. 

Once the button and zipper were undone as well, it was your turn to take the pants off, but you added his boxers in the mix, killing two birds with one stone. Your patience was wearing thin right now, and you couldn’t handle wasting any more time with him. He helped you rip the rest of his clothes off, throwing his pants and boxers off and you almost fell back from how desperate you were. 

You heard the thud of his clothes on the floor and then your eyes finally saw it. Oh, pictures and videos did it no justice. Your mouth watered as your eyes looked at every detail, the veins, the tip, the length, the girth… the tattoo. The fucking tattoo on the underside of his cock. Fuck. You were sure you’re getting wetter again just by looking at him. You didn’t notice how Eddie’s eyes were looking at you as he held himself up on his elbows. 

He saw the lust filled look in your eyes, and he could swear he saw your pupils turn into literal hearts as you sighed happily, your hands rubbing on his thighs as you slowly leaned down. His breathing hitched, a broken breath being taken in. Your eyes didn’t leave it for a single second. You were fascinated. You kept your ass up as your upper body lowered more and more. Your nails dragged across his belly when you finally reached the height you needed to have him right in front of your eyes.

Your tongue licked your lips to moisten them, getting them ready to finally taste what you’ve been craving for so long. You gave his tip a tentative kiss, making it twitch instantly. He wanted to throw his head back but he needed to watch you. He needed to engrave this to memory. He is sparing this time because it’s your first time with each other… but he will throw it on the table the next day.

He wants to record you just like this, and much more.

Your tongue lolled out now, your hand coming to grip it to keep it steady as you passed your tongue along the shaft, towards the tip. You heard Eddie groan loudly, wanting to jerk his hips upwards in you, but holding himself back from doing so, letting you have your own moment. Your lips finally closed on his tip, and his body shivered underneath you. 

You closed your eyes as you moaned with delight, just sucking the tip of his length to then pop it out. You suddenly spat on it, so you could lube it up in order for your hand to help you in those places you couldn’t reach with your mouth.

“Fucking christ…” You heard him curse with a hiss and you wanted to laugh cockily at him, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment. You finally guided him into your mouth, your movements slow, tongue swirling around him as you went. Maybe it was your imagination going a little wild, but somehow he tasted so good, and you blamed the tattoo for it, as if it were an exotic spice.

He gulped with a sigh, his elbows slowly starting to give up on him the more you moved your head. Your movements quickened, the noise of slurping being added into the mix and you could feel him falling onto the bed with a thud. His hands came to lay on the sheets, gripping onto them so he wouldn’t grab your head, not wanting to force you. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and you finally heard him moan your name. Sigh it out. 

That was one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. You had heard him before, but it was different in real life. It was his voice. In real time. No interference or internet filter to cover it or mess with his vocal chords. It prompted you to move quicker, play with your tongue against his frenulum, making him whimper and jerk his hips into your mouth, making him gasp when you gagged slightly.

“Shit– Are you okay–?” His head looked down, worry shining through the lust, only to find you smiling as you looked at his cock, before going back in. He chuckled in amazement and it was his go to grab your head with his right hand, just letting it sit there as you did your own pace and movements. 

You liked it. You liked the roughness, you had told him you didn’t mind soft and sweet, but you preferred rough and desperate. He is surely giving you that tonight. Your mouth was quick on him, and you could taste some precum in your tongue as you did so. You moaned into it, sending vibrations that made him moan and shiver underneath you.

“Mmmh–” You popped him out of your mouth to then lick his entire length and he sighed your name until he felt the tip of your tongue running on him, and suddenly he chuckled in awe once more.

“Sweetheart, you’re fucking tracing my tattoo with your tongue?” You were in a trance as you kept doing it, giving a dumb little nod. “Shit, that’s so fucking hot–”

“Been wanting to do this for so long… Wanted to trace it–” His resolve broke that second, wondering how many times had you imagined this and dreamed of it. His fingers snaked in your hair, deep, and then he gripped your scalp, making you whimper. The pain was nothing, it only added to the pleasure and it made you tremble as he was on his elbow, looking down at you.

“Think you can be a good girl for me and take me all?” You nodded desperately, looking at him with those eyes he fell for. Puppy eyes. He guided you towards the tip and you opened your mouth instantly, letting him go back into your warmth. Your hands stayed on his thighs, and his free hand gripped the sheets tightly, guiding you further and further and then– he controlled your movements.

He made you bob your head on him, up and down, setting the rhythm himself and you didn’t mind him. You clenched around nothing when you started feeling him hit the back of your throat. You relaxed, knowing what was going to come next and then you breathed through your nose. Once he heard you take a deep intake of breath, he pushed you down, slowly, but roughly.

Your eyes teared up as you finally felt him down your throat. Your nose was deep into his hairs, something he trimmed but kept because you told him you liked it. You breathed through your nose as you focused on not gagging. You moaned into it knowing it would send vibrations to him, causing him to moan your name, feeling his hips move underneath you with need.

But you could hold on for so long, your body slightly jerking as your throat closed on him. The gag making Eddie pull you back up and get himself out of your mouth. He looked at your fucked out face as tears ran down your cheeks, and drool was slipping out the corner of your mouth. Seeing it live was making him feel a little dizzy, and your clouded eyes were not being any help.

You couldn’t wait anymore, your body climbing up on him as he let go of your hair, his hand falling to your hip as your dripping cunt rubbed against his length, right over the tattoo. He sighed, his eyes closing for a second as he enjoyed the friction, the warmth of you. Your hands went to your back, unhooking the bra open. At the sound, Eddie’s eyes found you, taking the straps down your arms, and your last piece of clothing was long gone. 

“Oh, fuck sweetheart–”

“Eddie, can I? Please–” Your voice was desperate, whiny, and your hips kept moving back and forth on him, whimpering each time your clit rubbed against his shaft. His eyes were focused on your breasts, his fingertips digging into your skin, and then he nodded quickly, giving you the go.

You smiled, delighted. Your hips raised up enough for you to get your hand in between the two of you. Your hand grabbed onto his cock, guiding him to your entrance, which was so ready to receive him. You two had gotten tested, knowing what was going to transpire the moment you met, and you were so glad you were on birth control to regulate your cycle. This way, you can feel him completely. Raw. You started sinking down, your mouth falling open as his tip started to stretch you, then the rest and, fuck–

“Holy fuck, holy shit–” He was cursing as he looked between your bodies, seeing himself disappear inside of you as your face was still in a contorted state of pleasure. Your voice was gone as you kept sinking down, and you couldn’t wait how it felt to have him bottom out inside of you. You already felt full, and you barely went halfway down on him. It wasn’t even painful, thanks to his prep, to your orgasm, the one he caused.

Finally, you slammed down on him, a loud slap bursting in your ears at your skin hitting his. He choked on a moan at bottoming out inside of you while you trembled in ecstasy, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your nails scratched on his chest for support. Your breathing was heavy, and Eddie could finally refocus on you once more. You were adjusting to him, your head moving back to look down at him, your mouth still letting out breaths that drove him insane. 

He was about to talk, only for you to start moving, lifting yourself up to then slam back down, a moan finally escaping your lips as a groan left his. His hands were gripping your waist as if his life depended on it. He felt so good inside of you, just like you always knew he would feel like. He fit perfectly, and you certainly have no idea how you will survive when you don’t have him anymore with you.

Your hips kept moving, going up and down, your tempo rising, the slamming of your hips against his turning louder as he hit deeper. Your moans filled the room, the strain on your legs nonexistent as the pleasure overtook you. The air grew thick thanks to your breath and his, the purple hue making him look ethereal underneath you, his eyes half-lidded as he sighed out in each slam.

It was desperate, it was dirty, the squelching of your pussy against his pelvis, knowing your juices were making a mess out of it. You waited far too long for this and you were going to enjoy every single second of it. His hands moved to get a hold of your breasts as you bounced on him, as you rode the soul out of him. 

“Look at you sweetheart– Fucking look at you…” You whined at his words, your eyes closed as he hit you in that sweet spot you adored, your nippled getting in between his fingers for him to pinch and roll. Whimpers and moans leaving your lips at each shock of pleasure, and each time you came down, your clit would brush against his pubes. 

“Eds– You feel so good, so damn good–” He grinned at your praise, a thin sheer layer of sweat appearing all over his body as he played with you however he wanted. Suddenly you slammed your hips against him, changing your movements to go back and forth, a gasp leaving your throat and your nails digging into his chest.

“You feel good, baby?” He asked smugly, containing his moans in as he saw you lean back, his hands falling to your middle, while your hands gripped his knees. Your clit kept brushing against him as his cock inside you kept slapping your g-spot. Your movements were fast, hips just swaying like a dance and your mouth remained open in the entirety of it. You nodded dumbly, your head falling backwards as you stared at your ceiling, feeling your eyes burn in pleasure.

“Uh huh, uh huh–” You couldn’t even form words as your belly coiled, twisted on its own. His eyes fell closed, head thrown back into the pillow as you just used him to your liking. Your movements slowed and your head went back to looking at him, your hips changing rhythm as you swayed them in circles and you raised them just a little, moving back down slowly on him. A huff left him as he noticed the change, his eyes opening again to stare at your form.

You were possessed. You didn’t even recognize yourself, never once thinking you would act this way when meeting him. You knew you would be needy, but never this. Never this animalistic. The creaking of your bed was loud, now noticing it just as you noticed your legs growing tired, the trembling evident, but you didn’t want to stop this feeling. Eddie noticed of course, sitting up so he could embrace you, his mouth immediately latching onto your right nipple. 

Your arms immediately enclosed around his frame, hands digging into his hair as he rolled your sensitive nipple between his teeth, to then tug at it. You gasped between your moans as he let go of it, and then you let a breath out when he laid back on the bed, pulling you with him, your chest now against him. He chuckled with a breath, planting his feet on the bed, raising his hips upwards.

“My turn, isn’t it?” And the world became non-existent when his hips started slamming up into you, the slapping of skin loud enough for the people living at the very corner of the street to hear, your moans loud enough for the moon to listen to. 

His movements were rough, quick, his hands gripping your body to keep you in place and for him to have leverage. His breaths were quick, a curse and your name escaping him here and there, your headboard hitting your wall, and you were certain you would have a noise complaint in the early morning, but that was a problem for the two of you in the future.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” You whined as his balls also slapped against you, and you knew tears were falling from your eyes as he kept thrusting, rutting into you. He grunted into your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, which only made you whimper against him. Suddenly he slammed his hips into you, slow and deep, to then repeat the action, and then again.

He growled in each one, and then his hips stopped moving, still inside you, hips attached. You were both panting messes, drool dripping from your mouth from keeping it open all this while, falling onto the pillow and right beside his head. He lowered his hips, making you follow immediately, hitting the mattress once again. 

“You alright, darling?” He asked breathlessly and you smiled, nodding against him, which only elicited a smug grin on his lips. “Good, because I’m nowhere done with you.”

Your world was flipped, him having turned you both, his body on top of you once again, and his lips crashed into yours. Immediate tongues and teeth clashing, your moans into his throat and his in yours. He groaned as he slowly started moving his hips into yours once again, the fire having never left you, nor did for him. His mouth was still in your ear as he kept talking to you, softly, in a rough whisper–

“You want to know what I had to do before getting off the plane?” His words were barely processing in your head, but you still understood him as his ministrations inside of you never stopped. You shook your head, but he was not having it. “Talk.”

“W-What?” You asked and he tutted, relishing in having turned you into a cockdrunk mess.

“What…?” 

“What– Fuck, what did you do?” He hummed in approval, his breath hot in your ear, and if you thought this man couldn’t turn you on more than he was already, even when fucking you senseless, you were wrong.

“I had to jack off in the plane’s bathroom before landing.” You gasped as his hips rutted deep inside you, grunting into your ear before he continued. “I wouldn’t have lasted if I didn’t.”

You felt your belly burning, a moan escaping your lips with his name etched in it like a prayer. He chuckled through a huff, his movements still slow and meditated, his lips finding your neck once more, sucking on your skin to leave his mark. He was sure to mark you all up before he left, from head to toe, for everyone in your state to know you belonged to someone, that you belonged to him.

He will trace and retrace, leave your skin in red and purple markings. First mark? A necklace for your neck. So he continued moving, sucking onto your skin and biting onto it as he went from one side to another as you became a mess under him. Your nails were scratching the back of his neck, his back, reciprocating the marking in your own way. He could feel it, and he was going to proudly show it off before they fade away, going to make sure to prepare a gig so he could rip his shirt off in front of everyone so they could see.

His lips left your skin, his hands planting on the mattress on each side of your head to push himself up to admire his work. Your eyes were half lidded, completely blown out as your breaths left your pretty lips. A perfect necklace of hickies around your neck that looked way too good on you, a grin appearing on his lips. 

“Perfect… Fucking perfect.” With those words, your arms fell to the sides as he slowly kneeled up, his hands running all over your body, creating goosebumps on your skin despite how hot you felt. He then gripped your waist, tightly, and you saw how his smile fell, his chest moving up and down in heavy breaths and then–

He started railing into you like a madman. More creaks. More slapping of skin. More squelching. More cries of pleasure leaving you as he abused your insides in the most delicious and addicting of ways. Your hands coming to grip the pillow underneath your head once again, your legs spread as you saw them bounce back and forth as he moaned over you.

“Uh– Ed– Eds!” He loved to hear his name coming out of your mouth like this. He can’t wait to record you, stash this in his secured folder in his phone for his use when he returns to Hawkins. His fringe was surely sticking to his forehead from the force of his movements, but he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t going to stop, not when you were a blabbering fucking mess.

You saw his contorted face, the pleasure just written all over it, the desperation. Your whole entire self was putty, letting him use you, letting him take whatever he wanted from you and you were enjoying it. You were loving it. You were loving him. You gasped when you started feeling that pressure in your belly grow, the climax building inside of you and Eddie could feel it the second your walls fluttered around him.

“Where is it?” He breathlessly asked and you didn’t even know if he said something until his movements stopped and a hand grabbed your cheeks, puckering your lips to catch your attention. His face was suddenly inches from yours. “I asked, where is it, darling.”

“Wha–?” You were so confused, your hips swaying so he would keep moving but his hips were grounded against you as he shook his head at you, his grip tightening around your face.

“Where’s the vibrator?” That little pink thing he saw you use millions of times, and you were trying to process his words in your head, your hand moving shakily towards your night table. He let go of your face so he could reach over, almost ripping the drawer open and he instantly saw it. He grabbed it, your eyes following his movements as they slowly widened, knowing what he was going to do. He smirked your way, licking his bottom lip as his finger pressed on the ‘on’ button, the little but powerful bullet vibrator coming to life.

“Eddie…” You called to him as he kneeled up, sitting back on his calves, his left hand still gripping your waist tightly as his right one held your vibrator, his eyes stuck on it. 

“Intense little fucker, no wonder it’s your favorite to use, baby.” He gave it a kiss, sending a tremble all over your body, “Arch your back.”

You followed his instructions, and even if tired, you planted your feet on the bed, arching your back upwards. His hips started moving again, your hands gripping the pillow tightly once more as you whined, your mouth closed this time. The headboard started to slowly bang against the wall once more the more he picked up speed and your mind was gone. 

It felt even deeper than before, more intense, and the position was making your spongy spot be hit perfectly in each thrust. He huffed in each one, trying to control his breathing as you moaned loud ‘ah ah ah’s’, and then, a cry was ripped from you when the vibrator was placed on your clit, your eyes widening at the sensation. 

“You’re such a dream, so perfect for me, made for me–” He grunted as your body trembled underneath him, your orgasm now building at a quick and desperate pace. You would be surprised if you weren’t screaming his name. 

“So good! Fuck– It’s so fucking good! Keep– Keep going, pleasepleaseplease–” You were begging, as if he were to even think of stopping. He felt you fluttering and clenching all around him, making him growl and grunt, your name slipping from his lips. He could feel his own climax reaching close now, but he was going to feel you one more time. He rolled the vibrator around your clit, flicking it against you as the hand on your waist helped you keep yourself arched against him.

“Yeah baby, scream my fucking name, come on–” He was touching heaven right now, the more you talked, the more you cried out, the more you clenched around him. Drool out of your mouth, tears out of your eyes, that fucking necklace he put around your neck. It will go so well with his pick necklace.

“Eddie– Eddie– Eddie, please!” You kept begging and begging the more you felt yourself tipping over the edge. The creaking of your bed and the banging of the headboard falling to deaf ears, only your moans and his, the vibrator and the slapping of skin the only sounds heard between these four walls.

“I know, baby, I know. Let go, come on, you can do it for me– Be a good girl, come on–” The praise was what sent you off, your face turning just like it did last time to muffle your moan, your cry, your yelp, as your body arched into him, your walls clenching around his cock, tighter than they did the first time. It prompted him to stop his movements, a loud grunt being heard from him as you saw stars behind your eyelids.

He could only rut his hips into you to help you ride your orgasm, keeping the vibrator to your clit, making your body convulse in ecstasy. He could feel his own body tensing up, the tightness making it impossible for him to hold himself back. He felt you slowly unclench around him, your body twitching against him. Once he knew he could move again, your insides now so smooth to glide into, his need for release made him go feral.

Your vibrator was thrown to the side, and he was panting as he leaned over you, letting your back touch the mattress once again. His hands gripped the top of your headboard as your body was folded, your hips now lifting from your mattress one more time, your body already sore, but he had to cum. He needed to cum. You needed to feel him inside of you, because you would let him mark you inside and out.

His hips slammed against you, jerking you upwards, a yelp coming out of your lips from overstimulation. He grunted in each thrust, your breath knocked out of your lungs as he did it slowly, yet rough. Slam. Slam. Slam.

“I’m– I’m gonna cum– I’m going to fill you up so good, jesus fucking christ–” And all it took was one last slam before he let himself sit inside of you, his eyes clenching tightly as he came, a moan escaping your lips as you felt him and then–

CRACK.

His hands slid from the headboard as you both suddenly dropped, a gasp escaping you. A choked breath left your lips the moment you two bounced, his body almost falling over you if it weren’t for his elbows that planted on each side of your head, your hips falling back down. Your heart was beating out of your throat, your lungs compressed from the scare and adrenaline.

What had just happened? You shivered when Eddie shuddered, a last spurt being shot inside of you. You were both panting, his face coming to meet yours after he looked around at what had happened.

“Sweetheart, did– did we just break your bed?” And you realised your mattress was now on top of broken boards, hinges, and your headboard was a little wobbly, holding onto the side rails that enclosed your mattress. You blinked a few times as your arms held onto Eddie, and then–

You laughed through your exhaustion, through the adrenaline, through the remainder of your climaxes, and he followed right behind you. Breathless laughs, gulping from the sudden realization of how dry your throats were, but the giggles never stopped. Your mind was now clearer thanks to the scare, thanks to how incredible it was that you two had managed to break your slats, despite the seller telling you they were very strong and sturdy.

“We… We did…” You replied through heavy breaths, huffs of laughter escaping you through them and he chuckled on top of you, his bun now a mess, to the point it was almost coming off. 

“I’ll get you a new one… holy fuck…” You shook your head with a smile as you held his face, guiding him into a soft kiss this time, your heart bursting with giddiness. 

“No, it’s okay…” He smiled down at you, all teeth, and pecked your lips once again, his breath hitting your face, strong exhales coming from his nose. He pulled away, and his eyes were just wide with amusement as you smiled up at him.

“Oof.” He sighed to then smile down at you. “Well, that was the biggest workout I had in a while.” You giggled, giving him a nod in understanding, your chest still heaving as you caught your breath.

“I can agree with you on that one…” You reached up to put a strand of hair behind his ear, a content smile on your face, not being able to hide your happiness despite your body aching all over. He huffed one more time, kissing the tip of your nose before he started to slowly pull out of you. You both groaned at the feeling, realizing how sensitive the two of you were. He sighed one more time, his eyes falling onto your center. They widened as he pulled himself up, almost falling over from how wobbly his legs were, making you laugh in confusion as you pulled yourself up with a whimper, but he stopped you.

“Stay there! Do not move.” He stepped over the side rails, once again, almost falling over. He grabbed his phone from the pocket of his jacket, and you could see his tongue poking out of his lips as he came back to you, his camera pointing directly at your pussy. Your eyes were wide with embarrassment, wanting to close your legs on him. “Nuh uh, no.”

“What are you doing!?”

“I am not missing the opportunity to take a picture out of this!” He smiled with victory as he snapped the photo and then looked at it. “Best Valentine's ever!” 

He then showed it to you and you gasped as you saw his cum dripping out of you, and you immediately sat up properly, to then get up to clench your legs together, making him laugh.

“Not funny! It’s running down!” 

The following events were funny, domestic even. You two went to the bathroom as Eddie apologized, lying of course, while you sat on the toilet waiting for every single drop of him to fall down into it. You both then washed yourselves with a wet washcloth each because you were too tired to take a shower. A slap being given at Eddie for the hickies, the extremely unhideable hickies, he left on your neck. A brush of teeth and deciding to just go to bed naked, Eddie’s suggestion with a wiggle of eyebrows.

“Easier access for when we wake up tomorrow.” You had smacked him on top of the head and while you got some water bottles from the kitchen, he had pulled the broken slats from underneath the mattress.

After finally hydrating yourselves again, and maybe eating another slice of pizza, even though you brushed your teeth minutes ago, you were finally laying on his chest as a new comforter covered both of you because the other one had to be desperately washed now… maybe even burned.

You sighed in contentment as you traced figures on his chest, your heart beating rapidly as he kept his arm around you, the other one on the back of his head, smiling at your ceiling. The purple hue in your room thanks to the led lights making it a calm atmosphere for the two of you now, instead of horny animals.

Your mouth opened and closed as you debated your next words. Should you? Would he run off? Would he get scared? Was it too soon? Maybe it was, but you needed to get the words out of your system before you exploded with them. The actions that had just transpired made your feelings just burst and grow tenfold than what they already were.

But he deserved it. He deserved every single word.

“Eds…”

“Mmm?” He was still smiling, his breathing now calm, relaxed, and your eyes clenched as you pressed your head even more into his chest.

“I love you.”

Silence. His body tensed all over, you could feel it underneath your palm, your body that was draped against his side. You fucked up. You did, didn’t you? You ruined it. You ruined his visit, the moment, the relationship, by simply moving too fast.

Yet, both his arms came to squish you close to him, eliciting an ‘oof’ from your part as he knocked the breath out of your lungs. He was hugging you, tightly, rocking the both of you with happiness, almost giggling with it.

“You fucking beat me to it! I was supposed to say it first! I was mustering the courage just now.” He replied and your eyes widened for a second as you processed his words, a smile bursting in your lips as you held him close, feeling the need to cry out of joy, sadness, and with hope.

“Then say it back, you idiot.” You claimed and he chuckled, moving so he could be facing you, both of you on your sides now. His hand came to trace your cheek softly, adoringly, as if he was etching your features into memory. 

“I love you, my goddess.” There was a blush on his cheeks as he said it, and you knew he meant every word. You felt heat rush to your own cheeks, still smiling at him with devotion. He licked his lips nervously as he stuttered his next words. “Y-You know… Virginia doesn’t… look that bad.” 

You were taken aback by his words and– Was he saying…

“Are you… implying you want to move… here?” You asked, your eyes wide, and now you realize Eddie had been having the same fears as you were. Moving too fast. In the eyes of strangers it might be, but after having him here with you… it didn’t feel fast at all.

“I mean– It’s a little too soon, and I need to… check finances and… get a new job and all… but, well– Gotta start thinking about it, you know.” He was looking down, trying to avoid your gaze. You really wanted to cry now. You never expected that playing a game would end in this situation. You smiled warmingly as your hand rested on his cheek, making him look at you once again.

“Mmm… I think that Charleston in West Virginia sounds… good.” He frowned and you knew he was confused. You remembered how Eddie told you he failed senior year twice, so maybe you had to be more specific. “It’s right in between Indiana and Virginia…”

His face softened, a warm smile appearing and his left hand rubbing your waist lovingly. You were making sure you both had equal distance between your family and friends. A distance where you probably didn’t need a plane ticket to visit. He gave you a nod, pulling you closer for his nose to touch yours.

“Then we better start planning, sweetheart.”

And that you did plan.

end

a/n: i just think that long distance eddie would be as feral as a rabid dog when meeting his partner for the first time ever. pls reblog, don't just like

divider by @thecutestgrotto

[phleb0tomist]

today is myalgic encephalomyelitis awareness day if you want to read a little about it. this date was chosen bc it’s florence nightingale’s birthday and she was bedridden for a long period by what is thought to have been ME.

ME was originally understood as a post-viral condition with features similar to MS & polio which generally improved after a few months of rest, but in the late 20th century, figures with vested interests began to claim that ME was a psychosomatic fatigue-based syndrome and that the best treatments were cognitive therapy, graded exercise, and ‘believing’ you will get better, despite this approach causing many patients to decline. under this model, patients are blamed for not getting better and are told that if they’re still unwell, it’s only because they didn’t believe enough or exercise enough. children are told this, patients are told this when they’re bedbound, unable to speak, unable to swallow, tube fed, etc.

gradually the guidelines are being changed to reflect the fact that exercise beyond one’s individual limits causes profound damage to ME patients, but it’s a slow process and the decades of (ongoing!) harm are unforgivable. the care ME patients receive is of such a wilfully poor standard that ive foregone the ER in the past because i would rather die than go there again and be treated as less than human. bear in mind this is under free nationalised healthcare. i skipped free healthcare because that’s how bad it is. ME patients frequently slip through the cracks—after becoming severely disabled from harmful medical advice or forced treatment, many patients are too fearful to ever see a doctor again. it’s pretty common to hear of a patient who has been bedbound for over a decade and hasn’t seen a doctor since their first year of illness. home visits are often denied and hospitals often refuse to accommodate our basic needs (e.g. a dim environment, since light can cause long-term symptom crashes).

the diagnosis of ME has been stigmatised, minimised, and watered down, and patients face neglect and iatrogenic harm on such a scale that at least half the ME patients i encounter have been made permanently and PREVENTABLY worse by inappropriate treatment early in their illness, like i was as a kid. most patients are women, especially the patients who become severe or die; misogyny is a factor, and frequently the patients who face significant medical harm are children or young people who are trusting and can’t stand up for themselves. being traumatised on a systemic scale by the medical establishment also means that these people do not report back to doctors afterwards so the harm goes unreported much of the time. ME charities try their best to document these cases.

25% of patients are severely affected like me. basically, the body struggles to maintain normal homeostasis so any activity can cause symptom worsening (aka post exertional neuroimmune exhaustion) including the activities of daily living like brushing your teeth, speaking, digesting food, being exposed to minor sensory stimuli like light and ambient noise etc.

various links if you want to take a look:

caring for the patient with severe ME

life threatening malnutrition in severe ME

who cares for ME?

25% ME group

severe ME in children

the death, mistreatment, and starvation of maeve boothby o’niell

three cases of ME

about severe ME

why patients with ME are housebound or bedbound

graded exercise does not restore ability to work

patients remain severely disabled after specialist cognitive behavioural therapy

(note: ‘chronic fatigue syndrome’ is an alternative name for ME, but i don’t use it due to the large-scale harm and damage done under that name)

[yourlocalsurrealism]

DPXDC PROMPT : ALFRED IS IMMORTAL

Alright. Don't get me wrong, I love au's where John Constantine is like "soul tax evader supreme", but hear me out.

Alfred.

Alfred, Alfred Pennyworth. Who just doesn't die. The guy's immortal. The reason for this is that Alfred is awesome, so anytime he dies, whether it be from old age or a bullet or a world-wide catastrophe, he looks Death straight in the eyes and tells them that he will die when the day comes that no one needs him anymore, and not a second before, and then he just kinda pops back to life. Because let's face it, the batfam would fall to pieces without him.

So, Alfred Pennyworth has basically just been cheating death for centuries, by this point.

Needless to say, Death is none too pleased. Finally, Death goes to Phantom, the new king, who is much more reasonable than Pariah Dark was and who agrees to actually help.

Clockwork helps Danny set up a portal and he zaps into existence in the middle of a Wayne movie night. The bats are all prepared to fight this mysterious weirdo, but Danny ignores them and turns to Alfred, who he then begins lecturing about ghostly tax evasion and how defying death isn't a good thing, so he needs to file paperwork through the proper channels to stay as an immortal almost-God.

Alfred is chill, he plays cards with Clockwork once when he dies, so he knew this was coming, but the batfamily thinks that this mysterious entity is going to kill Alfred, so they're all panicking, trying to think of ways to avoid this horrible future. Alfred calmly listens to Danny, then he interjects.

"Sir, are you aware of the fact that there is a revenant on earth? One who is most certainly under threat of more paperwork than I, seeing as he has been using the Lazarus Pits to revive himself for millennia. I, however, have only been alive for a few hundred years, so I should think that he is a bigger priority. "

Danny glances over at Jason, doubtful. "He doesn't look several millennia old, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Certainly not, seeing as Master Jason is not. Besides, his Undeath License was filed. I have a copy of it if you need to see it, your Majesty?" Alfred answers, demure as always.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, sir."

Alfred leaves and returns, moments later with a light green glowing piece of paper. he hands it over to Danny, who examines it.

"Seems legitimate. I assume you filed it during one of your many encounters with Death?"

"Indeed. I have it on good authority, however, that the other revenant, a man by the name of Ra's Al Ghul, has not renewed his License in at least the last half millennia, most likely longer."

Danny sighs. "Where can I find him."

"Nanda Parbat. The signature is impossible to miss."

"Alright, Mr. Pennyworth. I will return once he is dealt with, be it by filing his paperwork or returning him to the Infinite Realms."

"Very well. I will be ready." Alfred answers.

Danny opens a portal to the area around Nanda Parbat and then another, which plops him down right in front of the Demon's Head himself, in a strategy meeting with his daughter and several commanders.

They all raise their weapons, but he just basically grabs Ra's by the ear and tugs him through a Lazarus Green portal, lecturing him about tax evasion and paperwork and bureaucracy the whole time. The League is thrown into uproar, and Ra's is set down in a room with all his overdue paperwork from the past few thousand years. He feels a little bit like crying; if he had known immortality meant this much paperwork, he would've just died, honestly.

Meanwhile, in Wayne Manor, everyone is crying, because they think Alfred is going to die, Jason is confused about the whole revenant Undeath Certificate thing, Bruce is trying to make contingency plans, Tim is contacting the Justice League, and Alfred is planning out his defense and going through every ghostly law loophole he can think of because if he leaves these emotionally constipated crime-fighting vigilantes, he knows that the house that Martha so loved will go up in flames within a month.

Eventually, Danny comes to get Alfred for his ghostly court trial/hearing or whatever, and Alfred says goodbye to Bruce and everyone, goes to the Infinite Realms. Clockwork is on his side, and Alfred ends up winning the court case, on the condition that now that the has an Undeath License, he actually renew it every twenty years, like he's supposed to.

A week later, Alfred returns, crashes his own funeral, and explains that no, he will not be dying anytime soon.

Two weeks after Alfred's return, Constantine shows up at the manor basically begging to learn how the hell he managed to avoid death, and not only that, win a damn court case against them.