#yes. he is vaguely slutty and i love him

[jedi-bird]

Just ordered a bunch of frames for prints, so Friday will be picture hanging day. It'll be my reward for getting things finished by then (or as close as I can get).

[pinkrelish]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶Surely, when two friends set up their two friends on a blind date in the very small town of Hawkins, they make sure those two people don't know each other beforehand, right? And, more importantly, aren't coworkers, right?✶

NSFW — slow burn, fluff, flirting, mutual pining, angst towards the end, drug/alcohol mention/use, 18+ overall for eventual smut

chapter: 3/20 [wc: 6.1k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 3: The Accidental First Date

“Is this too much?” you asked, yanking down the visor and checking yourself in the small mirror.

Sitting in the back parking lot of the movie theater, you went through your purse for the finishing touches on your look. Doing your last paranoia check for anything in your teeth, turning your head this way and that to zhuzh your hair, and most importantly, preening your oxymoron of a sweater to show a decent amount of cleavage without flashing the cups of your push-up bra.

Truly a walking contradiction of a top. Cable knit and warm, but with a plunging neckline, to where the top button started at your sternum.

“No, you look hot,” Robin assured with her goofy smile. “New York modest is Hawkins slutty. He’s gonna love you.”

You shrank into your girlish giggle. “Good, I want my dating debut in this little town to be a statement. Set the stage for future escapades.. Until I run out of men, I guess. Seriously, how many bachelors live here and aren’t total hicks? Four?” Robin laughed.

“Could be worse. You could be a lesbian.”

“True,” you concurred. “Good thing you have Vickie. Sucks she couldn’t come tonight.” Robin made a sad huff of agreement, working a mascara wand through her lashes. “Hey, I know I said ‘yes’ without asking, but is this guy you set me up with even my type? Not that I care, obviously; a good story is a good story, but I’m just trying to set my expectations here.”

She furrowed her eyebrows dramatically, and paused unscrewing her lip gloss to rock her entire body into a positive affirmation–almost bumping her forehead on the steering wheel from the force of her nodding. “Oh, absolutely,” she said emphatically. “Looks scary on the outside, but is a total sweetheart on the inside. Overconfident, and obnoxious, but in that charming, swoony way.”

“Perfect!” You clasped your hands together.

Stepping out of the car, she waited for you so you could walk with your arms linked together, and she continued, “I haven’t seen him in years, but Steve was telling me over the phone that he’s been going through a tough time, and hasn’t been on a date in a while.”

“Aw, poor guy.”

There was a beat of silence where both of your faces twisted into knowing smiles.

“I know what that look means..” Robin led, canting her head to you.

Innocent, you lifted your shoulder in a coy shrug, bringing a collection of her soft hair up to your chin. “No idea what you’re talking about. I was just thinking, if he hasn’t been on a date in a while.. Why not make it memorable for him?”

You laughed together, rounding the sidewalk to the front entrance of the theater where the glamorous marquee shined gentle daylight upon the darkened street. Romantic and intimate, with a crowd of people standing in vague suggestions of lines; some broken off, gossiping, smoking.

“There they are,” Robin whispered, letting go of your upper arm to wave at Nancy–who you had met at the grocery store last week. She saw you approaching, and tapped her hand on the chest of the man beside her.

Still a considerable distance away, you peered at him, and placed his luscious hair in your memory. “Oh, that’s the guy who came to the shop today.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah, he was talking to the annoying mechanic I’m always telling you about.”

“The one you have a crush on?”

“Shush,” you bristled at the mention of your not-so-secret. “I do not have a crush on Eddie. Anyway! Did I tell you what he did this morning? He fuckin’ stood outside the window next to my desk, just out of my view for like, full on minutes, waiting for me to look at him. Like Michael Myers or some shit. Scared me half to death.”

Robin, still caught on one detail you had somehow failed to mention in the month you worked at the auto body shop, quietly asked, “..Eddie?”

“Yeah, my coworker,” you answered, not looking at her when she fell a step behind, since you were too focused on greeting Nancy, and introducing yourself to Steve to notice her sudden jog up behind you. Too fixated on complimenting Nancy’s skirt to witness the way Steve aimed his confused frown just past your shoulder. Missed his dismissive hand gestures, and Robin’s panic as she tried to wordlessly communicate something dire to him.

You were too busy listening to the cars cruise by on the street, and chatting casually, and savoring the warmth of a new friendship to scrutinize the sound of quick footsteps from the other direction, or the jangle of metal chains attached to their presence, or Robin’s damning groan.

“Sorry, I’m–” a familiar voice said. A bit nasally and on the higher side. Mirthful, awake with youth, and excited to make a good first impression.

You turned to them. Your date.

“..Late,” they trailed off.

Deer in headlights. Big, brown doe-eyes wide with surprise, framed by beautiful black lashes.

He stared at you.

His stomach sank.

You stared at him.

Your heart raced.

Eddie had stopped mid-step with his hand raised in greeting. The chains on his leather jacket tinkered until they stilled. Kind smile frozen from a better time. Chest filled with a held breath. Presenting himself with his best foot forward, and now his ears were tinted with the embarrassment of trying too hard to impress.

Oh, God.

You blinked away, and were intentional to accept the situation for what it was without showing your surprise, opting for a simple, timid, awkward, shaky, exhaled, “Hey, Eddie.”

He wasn’t so poised.

Shutting his eyes, he allowed the realization to wash over him, scrunching his face in a pained expression as the puzzle pieces slotted into place. He hung his head, and released his breath through his nose. “Your roommate is Robin,” he stated, pointing at her to punctuate his sentence. “And you call her Bobbie.”

“Yeah..” It was an apology as much as it was a confirmation.

“You still call me Bobbie?” Robin asked, tugging on your sleeve, forgetting the tense air surrounding the group for the moment. “I haven’t used that stage name in years.”

“Guess it stuck with me..”

Thankfully, someone else added to the conversation. Unfortunately, that person was Steve addressing the elephant outside the ticket booth.

“So, I take it you two know each other,” he deduced, looking from Eddie’s dejected gaze at the ground, to you wringing your purse strap over your chest.

Eddie enlightened him in a solemn tone, sparing a single glance at his friend, “She’s the receptionist at work.”

“Ah.” He turned his attention to Robin. “You set up two people who work together.”

She threw her hands up and blamed him, “Uh! No way, dunce, don’t put this on me. This whole thing was your idea, and at no point in the conversation did you tell me Eddie was a mechanic! If you had told me he was a mechanic I probably could’ve put two-and-two together myself, and avoided setting up people who see each other every day.”

Increasingly red-faced, Steve very pointedly avoided Eddie’s suspicious squint after being outed as the one who set up the date, not Nancy. “You’re the one who lives with her, how could you not–?”

“Okay!” You clapped once to end their bickering. “Then it’s not a date.”

Nancy, bless her, picked up her improv skills fast. “Yeah! Not a date. Just a casual outing between friends. Steve, get the tickets ready so we can get popcorn before the line gets too long.” There was a ripple of unanimous murmurs, followed by shuffling to the entrance.

“Silver lining,” Nancy muttered out the side of her mouth to Steve, “It’s a movie date, so it’s not like they have to talk to, or look at each other.”

Steve tempered his laugh to a hiss and held the door for Robin, who in turn kept the it ajar behind her for you, but as you went to catch it, it was opened for you.

Clack- clack- clack. You’d heard the sound every morning; his distinct rings on the metal frame of the glass door beside your desk, followed by his soft grunt when pulling it open. But whereas his whispered ‘morning’ normally echoed in the tiled lobby, it was now on the back of your neck, fanning your skin, and it wasn’t a sweet greeting, but a reserved, solemn, regretful, sad, “Sorry for.. yeah.” That’s how he started your date that wasn’t a date. With an apology. And still, as the crisp autumn air was replaced by the humid waft of buttery popcorn, your brain was stuck at the garage, filling in the drag of his heavy work boots on the way to the breakroom for coffee, and the lingering scent of cigarette smoke trailing his stride.

Except, as you were jolted back to reality, you came to know he didn’t present himself so generically outside the context of motor oil. Due to the traffic clogging around the ticket ripper, Eddie ran into you and you discovered the nuances of what he smelled like when not at work, with the added intimacy of his chest pressed to your back.

Worn leather enveloped by notes of vanilla musk cologne. Spicy deodorant carried by the sweet earthy tang of tobacco. Dove White on his heated skin, and Dawn on his hands.

A symphony you could immerse yourself in learning for hours if it wasn’t for the crime of your group moving forward.

“Did you want anything?” Eddie asked you, pointing at the concessions.

“Oh, no, I’m good.” You made a clawing gesture at your mouth. “Eating popcorn before the movie even starts because I have no self control and then being forced to sit there with kernels in my teeth drives me nuts.”

Not finding you as endearing as you intended, he slipped his hands into his pockets, and motioned for both of you to stand off to the side, out of the way while you waited for the others to get their snacks. And he just stood there. Not saying anything. You were turned to him as if to carry a conversation, but his gaze was set ahead; not on anything in particular, just away from you.

Rarely had his face been this slack, this devoid of emotion. Even when doing menial work like filling out invoices for parts you would need to order, there was activity. Liveliness in the tic of his eyes reading lines on the paper. Movement of his tongue sliding across his top lip. A subtle crease between his brows. Something. Anything.

You spoke above the giggly teenagers sneaking into the film next door, “For a stick in the mud, you look nice.” He really did, in his well-loved jacket draping his frame after years of being broken in to perfection. Tight black jeans. Sensible boots. More accessories than just his rings.

Try as he might to cut you an unamused look, his freshly washed hair bounced in immaculate waves around his face, catching the low mood lighting like a messy halo.

“Thanks,” he said, not meaning it.

“I can see why you don’t get many dates if you always look this miserable.”

“I’m not miserable.”

“Glum, then? Woebegone? Hapless? Crestfallen?” When he seemed hellbent on wishing he were anywhere else, you eased up on your act. Harboring the pit of rejection eating away at your stomach, you pried, “Disappointed?”

The glimpse of vulnerability in your words was not lost on him.

He snapped to, shaking himself out of his funk to reassure you in his gentle timbre amongst the chaos of someone beating the top score on the pinball machine, “I’m not disappointed to be here with you.”

“Then what are you?”

“Sorry,” he guessed, shrugging. He was the type to speak with his hands, moving them despite being confined to his pockets. “I’m sorry our friends suck at communicating and this is how your night turned out; you being here with me when you were clearly expecting someone else.” His gaze didn’t dare dip lower than your nose, but the effort you put into your appearance did not go unnoticed. It wasn't the first time he stared a little too directly into your eyes after you decided to stop covering yourself up.

“I don’t go on dates intending to find my one true love or anything lame like that,” you said, honestly. “I go on them to have fun, and I think we can still have fun, even if we have to share the same tiny lunch table come Monday, and we side-eye Carl for bringing tuna again.” He almost smiled at that.

Sensing he needed another boost of confidence, you kept going, “Before I knew it was you, Robin was talking you up in the car. Going on about how my date was some sweet guy, super handsome, and with a heart of gold. You know, the Prince Charming type. Oh, and totally obnoxious too. Real loudmouth who never shuts up.”

Okay, maybe some of that was ad libbed, but you wanted to know how much of it was true.

Eddie shifted from foot to foot, subduing his grin by biting his tongue, literally. “That’s a pretty apt way to describe me back in high school, yeah, especially with how I’m dressed.”

“What changed?”

“Uh, I had a kid,” he laughed. “She stole all my charm. I swear Adrie can talk me into anything.”

“I think you’re just a pushover.”

“Probably,” he surrendered. Raising his brows, he mused aloud one of the many things on his mind, “Do you not agree that she described me accurately? Sweet Prince Charming guy, all that?”

There was no way in hell you were going to speak your truth. Instead, you smirked. “I don’t think you want to know what adjectives I’d use to describe you.” They were far too vulgar to utter in a crowded room. Hot in the most annoying way. Absolute pain in my ass. Just the worst, especially when I don’t hear you sneak up behind me in the kitchen, and you think it’s funny to scare me right as I open my drink from the Coke machine, and you laugh your stupid laugh when I drop it. An absolute eye-sore when you look up at me while you're on your hands and knees cleaning up the mess you created. Irritatingly handsome when you grin and buy me another one.

Ignorant to your private thoughts, he swung his elbow out to push you, and smiled.

Relaxing into the natural lull in conversation, you both watched your friends make it to the front of the line and order their food. They waited at the counter, starting the clock on when they would inevitably make it back to the two of you, and cease your alone time with Eddie. (Although, first, they’d have to traverse an entire bucket of dropped popcorn, and navigate around more than one group of children reenacting a fight scene they just watched on the big screen.)

“Were you disappointed I was your date?” you asked.

Robin was right. Eddie was a sweetheart. As soon as he detected an inkling of insecurity–whether it be in your strained voice, or etched into your face, or imbued in the question itself–he was quick to absolve your worry.

“No, no,” he said. “Relieved, if I’m being honest.”

“Relieved?” You weren’t expecting that.

“There’s a reason I haven’t dated since having Adrie. It didn’t sound like Steve made it clear to.. you, well, my anonymous date which happened to be you. Jesus, this is confusing. Whatever, you know what I mean, he didn’t say if he told my would-be date that I’m a dad, and I was afraid of coming here and having to tell them myself. Even if we hit it off, it’s a deal breaker for some people, y’know? Not that I blame them. I would’ve said the same thing five years ago.”

You nodded as you listened to him. “Never thought about it from that perspective. All my dates have been one-and-dones. Super casual. Kids were never really brought up.”

“Yeah, the dating world isn’t always so gracious. I’m kinda glad I’m here with you–someone who knows me, at least.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spied Steve raising his sodas above his head as two boys ran past him, pretending they were in a shootout.

Knowing he wouldn’t have time to respond, you informed Eddie, “You’re worrying about the wrong thing. Adrie’s an angel. You should be more concerned about your curmudgeonly attitude being a deal breaker.” His narrowed-eye glare had never felt so sweet.

Robin’s giddy presence became known. She dropped her chin to your shoulder with a satisfied hum, and wrapped her arm around your waist to hug you snug to her body. You laid your head on top of hers, swaying with her.

She must’ve made a face at Eddie, because a different emotion flinched across his features, and he was back to avoiding making eye contact.

You, however, were more enticed by the drink in her hand than analyzing his change in demeanor. “Shit, now I want an Icee.”

“Yeah, I got cherry,” she said, angling the straw towards you. “They have Coke too–Okay, bye, dork,” she giggled after you.

“Go ahead and sit without me! I want an Icee.” Nancy clutched the largest size of popcorn to her chest to avoid spilling it as you stumbled out of Robin’s hold and darted for the concession stand.

Eddie raised his voice, “You couldn’t have decided that five minutes ago when I asked?”

“Nope!”

————

The theater for the low budget horror flick reflected the town’s perception of it. As soon as the heavy door closed behind you, your footsteps on the dense carpet echoed around the empty room. Your group was sitting in the back row, and their murmurs could be heard from the bottom.

You climbed up to them and flumped into the seat next to Eddie. “We can share,” you said excitedly, shaking the drink at him before placing it in the cupholder at the end of the single armrest.

When the subtle pinch of concern around his eyes remained, you promised him you didn’t have cooties.

He played with his rings, pulling them down the length of his fingers and spinning them while he worked through his confusion. “You don’t have to sit next to me.. You can sit next to Robin.” He motioned beside him, to Steve munching on his popcorn while Nancy held it, and Robin whispering on the end, rolling her eyes at something Nancy said.

“Why wouldn’t I sit next to you?”

Eddie’s mouth opened and closed, struggling to settle on what he wanted to say, and finishing with a submissive shrug, leather jacket groaning at the act. He bounced his foot quicker, shaking the aglets on his laces against his boot in a chaotic rhythm. “Dunno..”

“You’re silly. I’d pinch your cheek if I didn’t think you’d bite me.” He reeled at that, and you giggled. You didn’t mind making him balk at your weird quirks; whatever put him at ease. Rather, whatever made him stop rubbing his knee against yours, because you were certain the friction was about to cause a fire.

Digging through your purse, you took out a rectangular box and slid your finger under the flap, popping it open and dumping a handful of candy into your palm. You threw it back into your mouth. “Want sh-ome?” you chewed, offering the box to him.

“Who the hell eats Mike and Ikes?”

“Uh, me, jerk.” Right as the lights dimmed to pitch black, and the curtains drew back from the screen, you hit him with the most exaggerated pout. “I only eat them at the movies. They’re a ritual, and you’re rude.” The shadows lining his face twisted into a deeper grin. “Are you more of a chocolate guy?”

“Maybe,” he answered like he was suspicious of your motives.

And maybe he should be. Afterall, you committed the number one sin when it came to cinemas.

“Looks like I chose right,” you said, reaching into your purse and pulling out a Kit Kat. “I was hoping my date would be a chocolate sorta guy–” You went quiet seeing his eyes widen a touch. “I mean, not date. Begrudging coworker? Tentative acquaintance?”

“Reluctant friend,” he answered smoothly, taking the package from you and ripping it open with his teeth.

~~~

Trailers for other films played, bathing the room in flickers of light interrupting the darkness. The opening credits began. Your candy was half-eaten. His was devoured. You took a sip of your Icee, and from the vantage point of pressing your back into the cheap theater seat, you observed him in your periphery.

His gaze hardly left the drink. Your offer to share it gnawed at him in a visible way. Scoping out the straw, the possible trace of spit you left behind, the possible trace of spit he’d leave behind. He peered at the screen to acknowledge the intro, and then back down it was, boring holes into the Icee.

You were no better, nibbling at your lips when he finally caved and took a sip–all too quick, and clumsy, almost missing the cup holder when he put it back down with lightning speed.

The edge of your thighs touched under the arm rest; worse so, when you folded one leg under you, and leaned into him. “Do you hate it when people talk during movies?”

“Not these kind.” He meant the genre in general, which made for great fodder for ripping apart in friend groups, but another popular trope among this realm of fiction became apparent. The first set of tits flashed on screen, and you both found yourselves lacking in the commentary department.

After a moment, you tilted your head. “That actress looks familiar..”

“She’s been in other cult classics. Always acts with her eyebrows.” He turned to you and nudged your shoulder, vying for your full attention. He emphasized the end of each word with an inflection as if it were a question, and raised his eyebrows in every way possible, mocking her slowly, “She’s the one who always talks like this–!” He looked crazy contorting his face to make his point.

“That’s it!” You snapped. “Her wearing glasses really threw me off.”

“Mhm.” His hum vibrated along your upper arm pressed to his, and he asked quietly under the screams of the first gorey death, “Do you like B movies?”

“Hell yeah. Back home they would play them at this rooftop drive in place. I rarely paid to watch them, though. The next building over had a good view of the projector screen.”

His banter dropped in favor of chewing on the corner of his thumb. If it wasn’t for the wild change in scenery cast across his face, you could’ve sworn his faint smile faltered into inscrutability.

Did you say something wrong?

————

“Damn, that was a cool practical effect,” Eddie complimented the purplish fizzing ooze that once was a person.

“I know, right? That’s why I love these bad movies. There’s no budget for good CGI, so they have to do creative stuff like that.”

It was inevitable. Bound to happen. A mere act of fate. Stars aligning in the close knit group leaning forward to exchange witty quips about the hare-brained plot holes in the movie, and not minding their surroundings except to receive everyone’s laughter, making jokes at the expense of the bad acting.

Steve was asking a question that was technically answered by the movie’s lore if he’d paid attention to the dialogue during the second gratuitous stripping scene. You or Eddie could have answered, but Robin took it upon herself to explain, and you two nodded along.

Absentminded, you reached for the Icee.

Distracted, Eddie reached for the Icee.

The waxed paper cup was cold under your fingers, but your hand was blanketed by warmth.

Slow to process, you both glanced down at the reason why neither of you were achieving your goal, and the overload of sensory inputs faded away to one: touch.

Your thumb was trapped under his palm, and his fingers stretched around the cup, meeting yours on the other side and housing them beneath his in a steady amount of pressure. They were almost interlocking. Holding. Wrist on top of wrist–his with the extra harshness of his leather and chain bracelet on your skin. The heaviness of his forearm resting on yours.

Truly, the accident lasted all of two pumps of your heart, but it felt like more when he stroked his calloused fingertips over your knuckles as he let go.

“Sorry!” he blurted.

“S-Sorry,” you laughed, jittery from the encounter.

Your cheeks were hot. His were flushed red. The lewd moaning of a woman feigning to orgasm just from the male lead removing her bra alone played in the background. Neither of you could decide which plan of escape was less embarrassing: continuing to stare like idiots at each other, or watch the actress’ ginormous boobs bounce as she faked riding a guy.

You blinked. His eyebrows ticced up.

Boobs it was.

He adjusted how he sat, tugging his jeans down his legs a little, and crossing his arms. Eyes laser focused on the woman’s face. The why was obvious, and you couldn’t help but tease him for pretending to be a gentleman in your company when you held no such modesty when it came to ogling her tits.

“Thinking about how much Aquanet she uses?”

“Shut up.”

————

Later into the film, after the plot circled back to the juicy gore, you leaned into Eddie to ask him a question.

What that question was, you couldn’t remember.

As soon as you placed your elbow on the armrest and used the back of your hand to tap his shoulder, he dipped his head to hear you. It was an automatic thing starting from the moment you slouched in your seat. That’s all. A shift in your sitting position and intake of breath, and he knew you were going to speak, and he wanted to listen. He cared about what you had to say. He leaned into you as well, because listening to you took priority over the movie.

“Eddie?” You sought any words. Any words at all. Any would do. Any question, even if you knew the answer. “Uhm. The music sounds really familiar. Do you recognize it?”

“It’s the same composer as Chopping Mall and Deathstalker II.”

“Ah.”

Ah. All you could muster when you were charmed by the silhouette of his lips moving. Watching them form letters, pout on the plosives, press into a line on his thick swallow.

Ah. All you could say when his hair brushed over your fingers. Dry, in need of a deep conditioning. Curling around your forefinger. Tickling your palm.

Ah. All you could respond with when you lifted your gaze, and caught him staring at you like you stared at him.

————

As predicted, the filmmakers padded the runtime with another topless scene, and the movie ended on a witty one liner that included not one, but two puns, and no resolution to the numerous plot threads left hanging.

“That was.. certainly something!” Robin summed up, holding the doors open to the subdued hours of the night.

Once outside in the fresh air, the dynamic reverted back to its original status.

Your friends made themselves scarce in the worst way; whistling, shuffling to the side as they found asinine things to comment on, leaving you and Eddie alone. Their intentions were pure, but reality was not so kind.

Eddie cemented his gaze on the sidewalk as he picked at his callouses, and apologized for the mistake of going out with you. Again. “Sorry about all this.”

Itchy sweat broke out across your back. It sucked he was so brazen about rejecting you. You had  hoped some of the tender crush you had on him extended past the armrest you shared, the looks you shared, the touches you shared; but maybe you were just tricking yourself into finding things that weren’t there.

Wanting to end on a better note, you appealed to him in a last ditch effort to smooth over the situation, “I meant it when I said you looked good tonight. It’s nice to see you outside of your work clothes.”

“Thanks.”

That’s all. Thanks. A shy glance from beneath his curtain of messy hair, and a somber tone to maximize the awkwardness of the not-date with your coworker.

You needed to get the hell out of there. “See you Monday?”

“Yeah, see you Monday.”

The group winced in unison when they saw the way you two departed.

Robin was quick to link her arm with yours and gather you closer, bringing your heads together to gossip as you walked back to her car. “That bad, huh?”

Around the corner and out of sight, you gave her half a smile, trying to appear in better spirits. “Well, I don’t think he likes me. He didn’t return any of my compliments, and he apologized for being on a date with me no less than four times over the course of the evening.”

She cringed for you. “That’s worse than Balloon Guy, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you said, remembering what would go down in history as the shittiest date you’d been on. “Yeah, that’s more times than Balloon Guy.” Robin hugged you tighter, making your steps go clumsy. She apologized for Eddie’s weirdness, but you shrugged. Maybe you were supposed to find it weird, too. Maybe you were supposed to disapprove of the idea of romantic feelings for your coworker, too. Maybe you were supposed to have no expectations for it to lead anywhere, too.

Maybe you were supposed to reject him, too.

————

Still loitering outside the theater, Steve exchanged a look with Nancy, and jogged to catch up with Eddie before he made it too far in the opposite direction.

“Uh, hey buddy!” Steve clapped him on the shoulder to stop him. “It sounded like you two were hitting it off during the movie, what happened?”

Eddie sulked under the question. His chest fell with a surrendering sigh, and his boots scraped the concrete as he turned to him, not bothering to mask the dullness in his slack expression. Everything about him was tired, including his voice when he slipped into a lower, raspy octave. “She’s nice, but..”

“But what?” Nancy asked, searching his face.

Bottling his burdens, he clenched his teeth, and worked his jaw as he contemplated evading their insistent prying; but after ruminating on it, he explained the source of his problems, “She lives a very.. whimsy life.” He fluttered his hand like a bird flapping its wings, or a butterfly. “She does this thing where she says ‘yes’ to anything anyone asks her; it’s why she moved to Hawkins, and why she ended up on this date to begin with. Y’know, just doing whatever seems like fun. It’s cute, in a way, and obviously I.. feel a way towards her, but this place isn’t where she’s looking to lay down roots. New York is her home.”

Steve squeezed his shoulder, knowing what was about to come.

“I’ve already been left for someone better.. I can’t go through that again.” Eddie’s eyes begged them to understand. “I don’t want Adrie to get attached to someone who’s just gonna leave.”

Nancy started, “Eddie–You don’t know if she’d leave.”

He shook his head, and pulled away from Steve’s lingering grasp. Shushed his friend’s well-meaning words about him being valued, and to forget his insecurities about not being good enough.

“A girl like that doesn’t need me weighing her down,” Eddie said, imparting the wisdom he’d come to accept since you made a mark on his life weeks ago, when it became your mission to befriend him. “I’ll pick up Adrie in the morning. Thanks for watching her.”

The night got darker as he left.

Darker still, when Steve waved at his back, and Nancy played with the locket around her neck, and her goodbye went disregarded.

————

Silence.

It surrounded him. Blood pulsing in his ears, his heart beat, the refrigerator hum, the tink of glass bottles as he grabbed the full six pack and brought it to the couch, springs squeaking under his weight.

Utter emptiness welcomed him.

Not a sound in his home. Not a giggle from his daughter, or scrape of a skillet from Wayne’s makeshift breakfast-dinner before he went to work. Even the dogs around the trailer park were quiet.

Just.. nothing.

It was what he wanted, right? A night to himself; a break from the chores, the questions, the food making, the taking care of a tiny human being who made everything tougher than it needed to be.

He got his wish.

Two beers down in peace, he got his wish.

Eddie looked around his trailer lit by the single lamp beside him.

Quiet, empty, nothing.

Dark silence.

The jolt of his sob startled him. It erupted from his chest so suddenly. Ripped from the tightness of repressed emotions; the things he tried to deny, to feel and then lock away. To keep safe, buried down deep where he could manage them from progressing past the boundaries he created for his own good, and Adrie’s. He felt the agony of them all at once. The morning smiles, the afternoon laughs, the evenings of pretending you didn’t plan to bump into each other in the doorway to the lobby. The game of seeing how long he could watch you twirl the phone cord around your finger before you looked up from your desk. Your sweet way of comforting him after the hard nights of Adrie’s sleep regression by taking his tan work jacket and draping it over his shoulders while he slept at the lunch table in the break room. Your gentle method of fixing his collar when it was tucked on the inside of his coveralls.

The date was too good to be true.

In fact, the truth itself was far more painful.

The date was amazing. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he had more fun. More thrills, sure. But not more fun. There wasn’t a day in his youth where he experienced more of the flirty thrum in his veins than when he committed himself to learning the way your lips moved when saying his name in the darkened theater.

The date was perfect. He was happy. And he couldn’t have it again. Shouldn’t have it again. Wouldn’t have these feelings again.

Eddie doubled over and put his third beer on the floor before he spilled it. Nothing was discernible beyond the water invading his ability to see, to fathom his reflection in the old TV. Sad, miserable, and lonely. An idiot for finally getting attached to someone, and it was someone he wasn’t supposed to.

Tears slipped from between his lashes. He smeared them on his cheeks, covering his sweaty face from his possessions bearing witness to his stupidity.

It was in his best interest to reject you–reject your casual stance on dating, and relationships, and people with kids–but the face you made when your advances went underappreciated churned his stomach.

He needed to be stronger. But he was weak.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighed into the stale air. Opening another beer, he nursed it as he huddled into the corner of the couch, and searched for Adrie’s quilt to soothe him. But of course, he sent it with her when he dropped her off at Steve’s.

No baby blanket to hold onto. No Adrienne to sleep on his chest to ease the pain of loneliness. No reason to look forward to Monday after he royally screwed everything up.

“Goddamnit,” he groaned.

Maybe, if he apologized enough, there was a chance you wouldn’t hate him.

Maybe, if you forgave him, you’d go back to the morning smiles, and the afternoon laughs.

And maybe, if he was enough of a masochist, he’d let you gently ease past those boundaries meant to keep you, and your kindness out. If you wanted to trespass, that is. He didn’t know. He was an idiot.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Bexxx my darling. We’ve had the conversation, are horny for the concept so I’m pounding this into the ask box even harder than they’re gonna pound the damn reader.

AU!Billy, Stu, Mickey and Ethan x reader. All alive or as Ghosts whichever is best. All of them going full blown slut on the reader, Stu in the mouth, Billy in the cunt, Mickey in the ass and Ethan in the hand (until he’s not *wink*) . We’ve discussed a lot of it already so GIRL, I know how you’re going to go with this. In advance, poor, sweet Ethan, slutty teasing Billy, supportive icon Stu and Mickey with the GUIDING. I’m going to burst into flames.

I LOVE YOU DUDE!

BITCH, I LOVE YOU! I wrote this all tonight in one sitting, I hope you all enjoy this! Billy AND Stu AND Mickey AND Ethan?! I mean, say fucking less, that is a dream I need to experience. Multi-May continues! I hope you all love this straight-up nasty smut in the afterlife.

---

Rating. Explicit. Length. 1.2K. Poly!Ghostface. Billy Loomis/Stu Macher/Mickey Altieri/Ethan Landry/AFAB! Dead Victim Reader! She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Five-Some. Orgy. Hair Pulling. Gagging. Group Sex. Hand Job. Oral Sex. Blow Job. Triple Penetration. Vaginal Sex. Throat Fucking. Anal Sex. Pre-Mature Ejactualation. Sloppy Seconds. Multiple Orgasms.

---

"Four In One."

You have never been so fucking full. It was taken right out of your most depraved and wild fantasies, an impossibility and yet here you were, mouth, cunt, ass and one of your hands full.

In the vague haze of your mind, you are reminded of a phrase for being in this exact situation, that being “completely airtight”. 

Some people might think that sex in the afterlife is not a thing, however it was one of the most beloved pass times, you have no physical limitations and nothing but time, it only makes sense. 

You being a victim that had fallen to Ghostface most would assume you’d hate them. You did at one point. Eternity is a long fucking time, though. 

So you got involved with the man who killed you and a few other previous Ghostface’s? It was your business, you were dead, you didn’t care if any other victims or whoever judged you, especially when it felt this fucking good. 

They had managed to get you into a good position, and with all of them helping, you didn’t need to worry about holding yourself up, which is good because you were fucking boneless. 

Billy was buried in your cunt, Stu was in your mouth, Mickey was in your ass, and you had a firm grip on Ethan. The smell was heady, the chorus of moans and skin on skin was obscene, and you were unable to stay still, being pushed and pulled in multiple directions, covered in sweat and thankful for the fact you didn’t have to worry about breathing. 

Stu was pulling your hair, dragging you nearer, your nose pressed to coarse hair, his head tipping back with a moan, “Fuck yes, when you swallow around the head it feels fucking fantastic-” He pulled harder, and you gagged, you didn’t really, but you knew Stu liked when you did, so you mimic it, you feel him throb on your tongue and Billy groans. 

“When she gags she clenches beautifully, man.” He breathed and Mickey agreed, “God yeah, she feels fucking perfect tonight.” 

You are soaking up the praise, pleasure sinking into the very marrow of your bones, you manage to open your eyes, curious why Ethan was being so quiet, and he is staring right at you and oh no. The poor boy. His curls are sweat soaked, bottom lip tugged by his teeth, face flushed, and it is spreading down to his chest, when your eyes lock he moans, he is pulsing in your hand and Stu notices the moment you, and he were sharing. 

“You alright there, Eth?” Stu asked, and the response came out strained, “Feels so good, too fuckin’ good, sh-she looks and God, how she sounds, I-I dunno if I can make it-”

Billy cuts in, his hips slowing, “Oh hey man, you gotta wait till you get in one of her holes at least.” 

You nod as much as you are able to with Stu’s hand in your hair and his dick down your throat, you wanted that, you desperately wanted Ethan to cum in one of your holes, Hell you wanted all of them to cum either in you or on you, it was a deep and clawing craving that was refusing to leave. 

Mickey’s pace was getting sloppy, he was thrusting harder and harder, faster and being totally selfish in the way only he can be when he is close, fully worried with chasing his own release, you say a silent prayer, happy that your ass could take the punishment he was doling out. “Fuck, fuck, you won’t have to wait long, Ethan.”

Mickey thrusts inside you three more times and then holds deep as he unloads inside of you with an utterance of your name. The rush of heat makes you choke and moan on Stu’s shaft with a shudder. 

You stop stroking Ethan, worried that he is going to cum, your hand grips the base of his shaft tightly to ensure he wouldn’t spill over quite yet.

Mickey stays in you for a moment, barely grinding his hips, milking the aftershocks and every ounce of pleasure out of his orgasm. You feel his head tip, his forehead rests on your shoulder, you feel the press of his lips, a kiss, sweet, before he pulls out with a groan, and spreads you, he can see your wrecked looking hole, slowly leaking his cum. 

Mickey looks over your body still being rocked between Billy and Stu, and he says easily, “Get over here, Ethan.” 

You let go of him, and he practically scrambles to get behind you, almost falling over the tangle of the other boys limbs on the way. Stu and Billy laugh, Mickey shaking his head, “Bless him.”

“So cute.” Stu confirms. 

Billy holds still and motions for Stu to do the same, “Ease up while he gets in there.” 

The blonde complies and they all watch, Ethan’s hands rest on your ass, and he looks adorably nervous, he is practically shaking, breathing erratic, he looks painfully hard and is leaking so much pre-cum. It’s like he is almost rooted to the spot, staring down at your slowly leaking hole. You push on Stu’s hip, and he allows it, pulls out of your mouth, and you look over your shoulder at him, you clear your throat before saying, “C’mon Ethan, please?”

He curses quietly, and then you watch Mickey come up behind him, one hand on Ethan’s hip and the other reaches around him, grips the base of his cock and says, “Lemme help you out.” 

Ethan almost jumps out of his skin, tenses but gives a single nod once, consenting with more than the action, he begs, “Please, yes, I-I want to so bad but, I can’t-.” 

“I know man, it’s alright, I got you.” Mickey soothed, and he pushes forward on Ethan’s hip, his other hand guiding Ethan’s cock, the blunt head presses to your nearly raw and well lubed hole. When the tip breaches Ethan comes back to himself, fingers dig into ample flesh, and he pushes, you moan and encourage him, “Fuck yes, please-”

Mickey lets go, his grin is positively wolfish as he watches the show unfold. 

Ethan curses again, and he shoves in roughly, about halfway before pulling out, the poor guy only gets less than ten pumps in, not even fully inserted, before he is cumming with a strangled cry, body a quaking, sweat slicked mess. He is apologizing over and over, gasping for breath, “M’ sorry, fuck, sorry, sorry, felt too fuckin’ good, couldn’t stop it-”

“S’ okay.” You reassure as he pulls out, “You’ll last longer next time.” 

Billy is laughing and starting to thrust into you again, “Fuckin’ pathetic, man.”

Stu shoved Billy’s shoulder and said, “Oh lay off, you didn’t last much longer first time you got in that ass.” 

You giggled, “He’s right, you know.” Stu taps your cheek and says, “Open up.”

Mouth falling open in compliance, he re-inserts, you still had to get the last two off and were eager to do so. You can hear Ethan trying to defend himself to Mickey, “I could feel Billy in her pussy when I was in there, and it was too much!”

“The extra friction will get you, it’s true.” Mickey sympathizes, and you suppress a laugh, trying to focus on sucking the dick in your mouth and moving your hips in time with Billy’s thrusts. 

[spacebarbarianweird]

Ok ok I see you with half orc hc’s and I raise you …

Changeling Tav and Astarion HCs? 👀

I think it would be very neat :D

Maybe they’re a lil mischievous, as fae tend to be. Just a thought

Oh! This is a very cool and potentially creepy idea.

For changelings, their, their appearance is nothing more than a dress they can easily change if the don't like it anymore. Perfect spies and actors, changelings can shapeshift into different races and genders. While changelings can look like anyone, they do have a true form. A changeling in their natural form looks rather like a doppelganger, with a lesser resemblance to a regular humanoid; in comparison to a human, they appear faded and lacking detail or as if unfinished or vaguely depicted yet still striking. Wiki

More info about Changelings in the Changeling FAQ. Including facts about reproduction.

Astarion x Changeling!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

You are a professional actor.

Sometimes you are a woman, sometimes you are a man.

You can only change your height and weight slightly, preferring to transform into someone between 5.4 and 5.7 feet tall.

Of course, your "body" is just for show. You can change into a winged person, but your wings are as useless as a fake dagger. 

Changelings are distrusted, so you prefer to stick to a role, even off-stage.

These days, you are a young female human with short black hair and blue eyes.

The Tadpole is somehow okay with your nature and doesn't try to change or limit your shapeshifting abilities.

But you are reluctant to tell them the truth.

Especially Astarion.

You can't even bring yourself to tell him the truth when he confesses to you.

You forgive him, of course, but you can't bring yourself to show him your "natural" self.

It's not like you have any attachment to your Changeling body.

Your face is just a mask, and your body is just a dress. Your gender is your current mood. 

But now it's gone too far. And you are ashamed.

What will he say when he learns, that you are neither human nor female?

You despise yourself, but don't dare to do anything.

You help him defeat Cazador, and before the vampire lord dies, he says: "Do you think the doppelganger can be your friend?

The vampire has probably picked up your scent.

Astarion is either too shocked to realize what his master has said.

You have a date at the cemetery, and you really think you will never get tired of your "female human" form. 

You will just be able like that for your entire life.

But -

There is a bloody and difficult battle.

You are badly wounded.

And your skin betrays you.

It melts, revealing your true self to your companions.

No sex, no face, no race. 

Just pale skin and a disfigured face.

A Changeling.

Your companions' first thought is that the real you has been kidnapped by Orin, and you are just a replacement.

Soon, they realize you have been unfair to them.

You have a lot to explain, but you can't explain why you hid it for so long.

You want to talk to Astarion, still in your "true" form.

He finally returns, hours later.

"I trusted you," he simply says, collecting his things. "I loved you."

He leaves to never return.

--

Tag List

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary

[autisticlancemcclain]

wip tease number god knows, truly

The phone doesn’t ring for more than two seconds. Which is crazy, because New Altea is an unfathomably huge number of lightyears away and also Lance’s phone signal is perpetually garbage.

“Ahoy,” greets Allura when the line connects, because she is strange.

“Ahoy,” Lance greets back, because he loves her.

They sit in silence. He can hear, vaguely, the clicking sounds of compacts being opened and closed, and the particular humming noise she always makes when she’s putting on eyeliner.

It occurs to Lance, for the first time, that they have known each other so long and so closely that to the outsider, their relationship might be quite strange. The thought makes him smile widely.

“So,” he says.

Allura hums again. Deliberately, this time.

Lance takes another long time to answer, digging the toe of his boots into the ground. He spies a worm wiggling in the newly churned dirt and bends down to pluck it, writhing, out of its hovel. He quickly snaps a picture and sends it to Pidge with the caption, ‘didn’t know you were on Earth today.’ She responds with a grotesquely realistic custom clown emoji.

“There is a possibility. Perhaps. That I do not actually want to be a farmer.”

“No shit,” replies the Queen of New Altea And Also Lots Of Other Things Lance Can’t Remember, blithely.

Lance sniffs haughtily. “This is quite the revelation, you know. I’ve had four panic attacks about it.”

“You have an anxiety disorder. You had a panic attack about malevolent gut bacteria last week.”

“…This is true.”

“Also, whenever I feel you need to be humbled, I ask your mother to send me stuff from your childhood. There’s a video in particular I enjoy of you sobbing about the prospect of being anything but an astronaut. You looked at a cornfield and threw up. You were four, I believe.”

Lance does, actually, vaguely remember that. Well, he remembers Luis writhing on the floor, weeping with laughter, and kicking him in the shins. He also remembers the cornfield, if only because he distinctly remembers lobbing a piece of corn at Luis’ head, also.

He was a very expressive child. Also, Luis is a turd.

“I am entitled to a period of self-reflection,” Lance says primly.

“It has been an Entire Year, knobhead.”

“I needed time to collect my thoughts in peace and on Earth. I died, you know.”

“Oh, did you,” says Allura drily. “I wonder how that went.”

Lance’s smile widens. He lets her have this one. “Fuck farming, okay. I’m bored. I love my family to pieces but I need to be closer to drama. Give me a job.”

“That is a garbage application, Leandro.” He hears the distinct sound of a nail polish bottle being shaken. “I should hire someone more qualified.”

“How about you hire deez nuts.”

“Hm,” she says, and he can hear her grinning. “On the other hand, I need a second in command who is unafraid to challenge me. You know, in case I grow corrupt with power.”

She pretends to deliberate for a moment.

“You’re hired. I’ll send someone to come pick you up tomorrow.”

“Is that someone going to be a hot, tall Altean in a slutty outfit?” Lance asks hopefully.

She can’t help a laugh. Lance grins triumphantly. “You’re fired.”

“Is that a yes?”

“I’ll think about it.”

She hangs up.

[gabessquishytum]

In school, Dream assumes hob is kind of a bimbo. He’s a male cheerleader and he definitely has a reputation for having slept with a lot of the football team and so Dream’s attitude leads to a fair amount of slut shaming (not at all due to jealousy).

Unfortunately hob has a big crush on Dream. And he works up his nerve all year to ask Dream to prom! He gets him black roses and everything.

Dream assumes it’s a prank and rolls his eyes at him. He doesn’t even bother responding, just pushes past him in the hallway. Hob is heartbroken but he carries on, which only confirms to Dream that he never really meant it. destruction, Dream’s younger brother, takes hob to prom instead, as fwb. He also tells Dream off for being so rude to hob.

Later Dream wonders if maybe he was a little rude and if this was a missed opportunity…but nothing really changes until they both graduate and go to college.

Dream walks into his first class and sees a familiar head of brown hair (and a familiar perfect butt). It’s hob! To Dream’s surprise, hob is clearly very knowledgeable, always the first to answer questions and offer thoughtful insights. So he starts paying closer attention to him. He even works up the courage to say hello to him but hob seems to want little to do with him, offering only polite but distant greetings.

Obviously now that dream is paying attention, it isn’t long before he’s falling head over heels for hob, and is very sorry he ever blew him off. But how will he ever be able to redeem himself?

Omg YES I love that Hob kinda has Elle Woods vibes here. And I just adore the idea of him enjoying his high-school career, being a little slutty for sure, but never doing any harm. He's whip smart and lined up for university already, so he can focus on his social life as high-school comes to end. What he really wants is some time with Dream, but that turns out badly and Hob isn't the type to beg. Destruction is a lovely alternative and makes Hob very happy before they part and he heads off to uni.

And at uni, he's a little different. Still fun, still cheerleading in his spare time, but more focused on academics. He's always in the library after class, although he does make time for parties too. Dream is simultaneously jealous that Hob is clearly absolutely bossing university life and also just... smitten with him.

At the end of the semester an inevitable dreaded group project is handed out, and guess who get paired up? Dream and Hob. Hob is still polite and frosty when they meet up to work. And so, Dream heaves in a big breath........ and he apologises for being an ass.

Hob looks like he might cry, and Dream feels just awful. But honestly Hob is grateful for the apology, thankful that Dream took the time and courage to do that. Hob always tried not to let the slut shaming and vague tinges of homophobia get to him at high-school, but Dream’s reaction to him did hurt a lot because he actually cared about Dream’s opinion.

Next morning, Hob finds a big bunch of flowers outside the door of his room. His heart flutters, and he pulls out his phone to text Dream: come down to watch me at cheer practice, and I'll show you what you've been missing out on x

And if Dream gets a boner watching Hob do the splits, that's entirely his business... and Hob’s to take care of later, in the locker rooms.

[90sbee]

You are my canvas, I am your doll

Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader

1k words. Also on ao3.

And when you two pull apart, he looks even more desirable. Full of need, of love, pupils dilated and lips parted. You caress his eyebrow gently, eyes focused on the way his eyelashes —coated with your mascara and the smudged eyeliner— look on him.

Leon and you attend a party. You just had to do his make-up first.

You know, this is not funny. You let @navstuffs read this one earlier cos you want to spoil her and she ends up giving you more ideas. Not fair. So yeah I guess I’m writing a second part actually.

Content: Mostly reader’s pov. No use of y/n. OOC Leon because he is actually living his best life here and not depressed as shit. Reader is shorter than Leon. Leon is slightly dom but he also calls himself ‘good boy’ and ‘pretty boy’. Pet names, established relationship, Leon confused about make-up items. Did I mention doing his make-up sitting on his lap because yes.

Warnings: +18 cos brief smut (Leon just loves eating pussy, actually). Minors and ageless blogs dni. Alcohol consumption but no one is drunk. Grinding aka slutty dance moves. Leon is insecure about his looks for like. 2 lines.

He is a gorgeous sight, blond strands crowning his face, the way his smirk seems to follow you as you two dance closely, bodies almost locked together. There are others around you, but Leon makes it clear that his gaze is only fixed on you, glittering blue eyes enjoying your figure.

You turn around, stop the lustful grinding against him, and cup his cheek, forcing his strong body to accommodate to your lower height. The alcohol is already making you bubbly, but he does not mind.

“Pretty. Pretty boy,” you breathe out, grazing his lips with delicacy.

“Yeah? Your pretty boy,” he repeats.

You smile.

He is a gorgeous sight indeed. Dark t-shirt doing nothing to hide his pecs, biceps stretching the thin clothing, as if teasing you —you know he is. You press a quick kiss into his lips and for a moment he frowns, surprised. He hadn’t expected it. He mouths something, but the music is too loud to decipher anything.

“What did you say?”

“I asked why just one… Do it again,” he answers, already attacking your neck with gentle bites, eager to mark his precious angel. You huff, and scratch his head, your hips moving once more to the rhythm of the songs.

“I love you.”

“Love you too,” Leon immediately replies, stealing a kiss from you.

And when you two pull apart, he looks even more desirable. Full of need, of love, pupils dilated and lips parted. You caress his eyebrow gently, eyes focused on the way his eyelashes —coated with your mascara and the smudged eyeliner— look on him.

You’re vaguely aware that your lipstick is probably messed up now, but he does not seem to care. Probably finds you the prettiest woman in the world, no matter what.

“See? Told you you’d look so hot with some make-up on.”

He chuckles, standing to his true height, and pulling you into his chest: gentle laugh emanating from his throat as he kisses your temple.

“As long as we don’t do this too often…” Leon warns you, though he is secretly amused by it. He’d do anything for you anyway. Anything to make you happy, to see that toothy smile etched on your face his whole life.

You two dance slowly then, out of beat. The world you share being the only song to follow. You close your eyes, hugging his body, face pressed tightly against him.

You love him so much. You’re so thankful that he accepted to spoil you with your little date suggestion; that after all the pain he has told you about, he is still willing to try to entertain you, even when it comes to such mundane things.

“Mine,” you mewl, gripping his body harder, suddenly feeling way too fortunate for the man that you get to call boyfriend.

Leon smiles, enjoying the touch, snorting as he shakes his head.

“Someone clingy tonight?”

“You know, you’re just looking too fine. Someone may steal you, actually”

“Doubt anyone could just steal me, I’m quite heavy,” he jokes, sliding his hands up and down your back, his fingers grazing your skin.

“I’ll put you in my pocket, young man.”

“I’d like to see you try that, young lady.”

Laughing against his chest, you look up at him, chin pressed against his pecs, the beating heart in his chest as the most joyful song you’ve heard your whole life.

“There’s my sunshine,” he says, voice raspy, caressing your cheek.

You remember then how he let you work on him, sitting on his lap.

“Pretty please?” you beg once more. Leon licks his lips, feigning annoyance though he already knows he will succumb to your demands.

“Remind me again what I’m getting out of this,” he crosses his arms, figure towering over you, a mocking expression on his face.

“You’ll be all gorgeous. Well, even more gorgeous than you already are,” you try to unsheathe your reasonings to him once more, hoping that he will finally accept them this time. And, it must be your lucky day, since Leon just smirks, nodding.

“You owe me a nice meal,” he states, before you take his hand, excitedly guiding him to take a seat on the couch, next to where all your make-up is already awaiting for him.

Truth be told, Leon is more than pretty. Handsome, strong, features of exquisite delicacy. There was nothing you’d change about him, completely enamoured as you are of him. But deep inside, burned your curiosity, how he’d look like with make-up on, lips glossy, or even an elegant smokey eye decorating his eyelids.

As you start grabbing your make-up items, taking a seat on his lap, Leon gulps. He has to admit it, the existence of that little speck of insecurity boiling in his stomach. As you examine a small black stick whose function he ignores, he frowns slightly.

“What exactly are we doing today?” he asks.

“Not sure yet. Probably just something that accentuates your eyes,” you reply, the little tub and stick nearly on his face now. “Your eyelashes are to die for.”

“Is that a good thing?” he inquires, still confused.

“Definitely,” you look at him, concentrated, and he sighs, but nods, consciously choosing to let you work on him in silence.

“I’ll let the pretty artist do her thing,” he whispers, as you start drawing a thin line next to his waterline. Your movements are slow, tongue sticking out as you make sure to nail the eyeliner trace, curling eyelashes with the most utter tenderness and then applying the mascara with very light strokes, warning him not to blink.

“What if I do?” he asks, serious.

“You’re not getting kisses.”

“Sounds like I’ll better be a good boy then,” he adds, pulling your hips closer to his, voice needy.

Leon notices your mind seems to have wandered off. He caresses your cheek with his thumb, his gaze concerned.

“Everything okay?”

You nod slowly, flustered.

“I’m just thinking…”

You just look up at him once more, and Leon swears he could die. Prettiest little thing, so small and precious in his grip, eyes hungry. And he understands. He nods, quickly, before taking your hand, head already anticipating what may fill up the rest of the night.

“Let’s go home, love.”

And when you two end up in bed that night, lipstick on each other’s faces and mascara clumps on your cheeks, framing wet kisses and hard thrusting, you find he has never looked hotter than now. With your make-up all over his face as he, gallant as usual, licks your juices off his lips.

“One more?” He says, though he doesn’t really expects an answer, as he dives his mouth once again between your thighs.

I have to stop thinking of slutty Leon with make-up or I'll go stupid. Dividers by @/cafekitsune and @/vase-of-lilies

[sleepynegress]

Meta About How Fandom Dishonestly Talks About Wanting "Queer (It Only Counts When it's White Male!) Rep"....

Fandom always looks like fandom...

The above tweet is dishonest. They are only talking about the characters they want to see be gay or queer in media, coincidentally white men. Mind you, Loki said he was into men and women in his show, they had bisexual lighting, and classic queerbait w/ Morbius and (sorry shippers but I gotta be honest about just my opinion, continue to ship away tho) ZERO chemistry with Sylvie. ...A lot of fandom ate that bait up back in the day, because that's as far as the media for these fandoms would go, back then. Given that Wiccan literally only just appeared with zero indication of his sexuality in MCU, beyond the character himself being portrayed by a gay actor (which I've written can be limiting as an assumption for gay actors, shout out to J Bailey playing love well, regardless), and having in-community affect (if there is a more appropriate term, let me know). Loki, if we're judging them by the same rules... And really, Loki is ahead since he outright said he likes both... The big difference I see is Loki gave classic queer (Disney) villain "coding" which is based in times when queerness wasn't allowed to be played outright as much, while Wiccan is simply giving gay teen existing. So, about that queer rep in the MCU... You mean Phastos and his whole husband and kids in The Eternals?

or Ayo literally being kissed by her partner in Black Panther 2 but we know it only counts to fandom if it's a white male... *sideeye* There's Val and her big gay energy... Hell, Taika went as far as cutting out some tongue action with Thor, which kept her bi much less obvious, and pushed the sapphic energy much more forward:

*the difference between coding and bait is these two confident acts, the second while winkingly gazing at the audience for a beat vs. Carol and Maria's "gal-pal" montage...it don't always have to be intimacy with the same sex* All this to say, you cannot claim to honestly want queer rep while ignoring explicit queer rep that ain't white male... because then it's obvious that you just want to see white gays in a hot make-out session... Which IMO is just the fandom version of straight dudes watching two girls kiss, and that ain't about rep, especially when deeper rep already exists and you ignored it. As for Loki, to me he always came off sort of vaguely slutty/flirty when bound, hit, or challenged in some way.

His energy has always been that, but I will give you, that the only person Loki actually *penetrated* onscreen was a man... not Mobius, but Agent Coulson... Once again, it's coding.

As for Wiccan, I think it's too early to say what the MCU will do rep-wise. YES Agatha All Along is giving EXPLICITLY gay energy. And yeah he's a gay character played by a gay actor, but will he get to be explicitly and honestly be attracted to another boy onscreen? I hope so for him, it would be qt and I would be chin-hands all the way for it.

...But again (same show!), I feel the same about Agatha and *spoiler*I know who Aubrey Plaza is playing but I'll be quiet *spoiler*

[mychlapci]

Orion pax stripper / slut era?

We have Ratchet’s slut era, and everybody loves the dear ol party ambulance, i’d suck his spike and say sorry if he begged for more.

But back to my baby orion pax. In multiple universes optimus has some slutty ass waist, him and Ratchet have known eachother for a lonng time. Tfp and bayverse have basically been competing on the daily for who’s prime has a sluttier waist, who would look better full of bitties, who’s matrix is more annoying. Blah blah blah.

The one thing they have in common is that the REASON of the sluttiest waist known to Cybertronian kind is that Orion Pax was a stripper.

Megatronus and his buddies walking into a club vaguely disguised as a bar in downtown kaon. Taken offguard to see the sweet, innocent and helpful Orion pax not hesitating to have his gorgeous, but quite small titties on display to an entire club of drunks, walking through crowds and he looks fabulous, each titty pierced through with tiny golden piercings in an X position, thin golden chains looping each corner, only his valve out and pierced with shiny, multicoloured piercings that glimmer separately when the club’s lighting changes colour or brightness, it puts some colouration to the greyish-blue mesh, a thick loop piercing through his node, dribbles of Lubricant rolling in thick beads down his thighs, it doesnt deter him because he knows he looks fabulous

He’s slipping round drunk mech and femme alike, ignoring groping hands as he moved with such fluidity. His armour was much slimmer then any of the gladiators remembered, despite how he’d saw them a little less then a week ago, biolights running up his stomach from his hips, ending at where his titties meet his chest, Absolutely covered head to toe in glitter, maybe some shanix tucked between the armour he does have on, showing how well his curves suit this job.

Megatronus and (probably) soundwave are even more surprised when it turns out he works here on weekends, completely sober and willing, One part is because he absolutely loves showing his frame off, the second part is so he can keep an eye on the biggest whore on Cybertron *cough cough* Ratchet *cough cough* so he doesn’t get himself kidnapped and drugged in an alley way, also it pays well and times are hard!

The matrix just seems to make everything worse but better at the same time, so its a win/win for Optimus.

oh my god yes. slut era Orion Pax should be talked about more. And slut era TFP Orion? So brave. But hey, I mean, if he's friends with the ol' party ambulance then they've gotta have something in common, and frequenting trashy clubs can absolutely be one of them!

Megatron and his gladiator buddies walk into a club and get hit with a full-face of Orion Pax titties. He's surprised to see them but ultimately, Orion's a professional. He gracefully sits up on their table, pretty hips propped up, and they can see the intricate, almost hypnotic patterns painted onto his soft, perky tits in great detail. Shy, polite Orion from the archives shifts a little on top of the table and they can see that his valve panel is open, the pretty piercings tempting Megatronus to just touch 'em and pull. Maybe then he'd get to see Orion blush, if being bared in a dark bar full of strangers won't.

Clearly he's enjoying himself too, his node twitching and valve wet, grinning dumbly when people call him over to tuck shanix into the inseams of his hip plating, groping his frame with reckless abandon. Orion just playfully shakes their hands off of him, and keeps moving through the club to entertain the rest of the horny drunks. 

Oron giving Megatronus a dance, all in good fun, but there's a hint of a flush on his face-plate as he rocks his hips, all of Megatronus' friends watching, staring, wanting to have a piece, rough, battle-worn hands itching to touch that soft, polished plating and give it a squeeze. Orion wouldn't let them. Megatronus wouldn't let them.

[thewolvesof1998]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the wonderful @jamespearce9-1-1

I think I've finally cracked, I've gone insane, I wrote this last night for my Heatwave fic and I just couldn't stop laughing. I have no idea if it's actually any good but by god did it make me lose it. So let me know what you think about it:

“Fuck Buck,” Eddie groans, his own cock throbbing at Buck’s words, he drops his forehead to Buck’s hip, “God yes, but we don’t have any lube.” “I-ah-there’s some in my first aid kit,” Buck says, Eddie’s head whips up to look at him, he smiles sheepishly down at Eddie and gives him a half shrug, “I told you I’ve been wanting you to touch me for a while now.” “So you brought lube on this hike because you hoped this would happen?” “Well um I-I ah,” Buck stutters, turning bright red and looking anywhere but at Eddie, he mumbles something under his breath that Eddie doesn’t catch. “What’s that?” “It’s-I-not just here,” Buck vaguely answers, waving at the cabin around them and it all falls into place in Eddie’s head. He can feel his lips stretch into a wide grin and his heart feels too big for his chest, too full, too fast, like it’s going to beat itself out of his sternum, tearing through skin and muscle until it lands in Buck’s hands. He thinks it would be safe there, that Buck would protect it and keep it beating. God Eddie loves this idiot.   Eddie raises his eyebrows, “Mi amor, have you been bringing lube every time we hang out?”  Buck covers his face with his hands, his voice muffled as he says, “When you say it like that it sounds bad.” Eddie laughs, “It’s not bad, it’s-” Cute? Romantic? Hot? Because it’s all of those things and more, Buck hoped -knew- that they were inevitable so much so that he started carrying lube on him at all times, it’s everything, fuck he’s getting all emotional over a bottle of lube “-uh-practical.” Now it’s Buck’s turn to raise an eyebrow at him, “That’s what you're going with? Practical?” Buck says teasingly, propping himself up on his elbows.  Eddie nips at Buck’s hip in retaliation, he hums in consideration, “Hot? Romantic?" Buck smiles at that but before he can say anything he continues, “What about slutty?”

Last Snippet Previous snippets premise/moodboard

Tagging: @wikiangela @wildlife4life ​ @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33 @bekkachaos @buddierights @spagheddiediaz @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @shitouttabuck @911onabc @exhuastedpigeon @malewifediaz @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @theotherbuckley @hoodie-buck @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg @pirrusstuff @evanbegins @giddyupbuck @sammysouffle @smilingbuckley @carrierofthepaperclips @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @thosetwofirefighters @monsterrae1 

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Songkran, Water, and KingUea

Was talking about my Bed Friend Reflection post with @respectthepetty and more specifically she was referencing the observation I made about how strongly water ties into King and Uea’s relationship and it got me thinking. What, if any, possible meaning could be gleamed from this theme?

And well, Songkran happened recently and I really just decided it was time to go overboard in the parallels I drew between the use of water and the defining moments of King and Uea’s relationship. For those of you who (like me until I looked it up just now) do not know, the original myth of Songkran states Indra the king of devas looked upon a city and was sad to see high levels of corruption, thus until they strayed back from sin there would be no rains, minimal food and water, and extreme drought. The people prayed to mother Earth (Siri) and Siri told the people the causes of their misfortune and gave them fertile lands, divine seeds, songs for rain, and pots of powder to cool their skin. 

Songkran is the Thai New Year which is particularly well known, in Bangkok at least, for its water fights. (There are other rituals such as cleaning the home, making merit, elephant processionals, etc based on region) 

Songkran stems from the Sanskrit word “saṃkrānti” or “saṅkrānti” which (according to Wikipedia) means “transformation” or “movement” 

So let’s explore this theme a bit more in relation to Uea and King’s relationship shall we?

The first time King and Uea have sex, Uea wakes up, panics, and returns home where he then enters the bathtub: 

Thus dousing himself in water, water which, in a Songkran transformation sense, should cleanse him of his sin, in this case, engaging in “slutty” behavior, something he was severely punished for as a child by his mother. 

Then, we hit a dry spell for an episode and a half while King and Uea navigate the beginning of their FWB relationship, things seems to be going pretty well. King is, and I cannot stress how much I mean this in a non-sexual way, planting the seeds for a prosperous harvest, and he is doing so when he shoots the I Love You sign to Uea, when he massages Uea, when he goes out with Gun and spends the whole night communicates with Uea, and it is clear by that point that Uea is starting to having Feelings about King. Then King accidentally triggers him, they hit a bit of a dry spell, until Uea finally accepts King’s apologies and re-starts their sexual relationship. At which point, we get the rain:

With a rain-streaked window overlaying them, King asks Uea “Will you let me be a good thing in your life?” and while Uea tries to brush the question off, we know his answer is yes. King has washed away the sins he has committed against Uea (accidentally triggering him) and they are moving into the next phase of their relationship to one another, where Uea starts seeing King as a good thing in his life. 

Third instance of water comes after Uea’s encounter with his family on his birthday. He calls King seeking comfort, and King recognizes Uea’s anxiety and makes him take a bath instead of continuing their sexual encounter while Uea is emotionally compromised. King brings Uea a birthday cake, and while I have not read the novel, I remember there was a post floating around comparing the book and the show that mentioned that Uea is surprised or touched or something to discover that King cares more about Uea than his mother does because he actually gives Uea a celebration for his birthday.

Uea is once again cleansing himself, this time of the sins of his family, and enters another phase of his relationship to King where he trusts that King cares for him. 

And we get secondary movement in the King/Uea department with them sitting together in the pool:

While King has been witness to some of Uea’s present traumas and trauma reactions, Uea has not otherwise been forthcoming with information about his life. He’s mentioned when his mother texts him, or he makes vague and off-handed comments about things not going right for him in life, but he has not told King any actual information about himself and his life…until the pool, where he talks about happy memories living in Lampang with his cousins. Uea is planting seeds and watering them in the hopes of a bountiful harvest. They openly flirt with each other and discuss visiting Lampang together, fully abandoning the behavior of Friends With Benefits even as they continue to define themselves as such. 

Episode 5 marks our next rain-streaked windows event where the power goes out, Uea has a panic attack, and King calms him down.

Uea is able to sleep, in darkness, through the night which is a huge step for him. Over a cover of rain, Uea is cleansing his fears, and it is showing us that the seeds King has been planting to ensure Uea can trust him are beginning to bear fruit. King has become such an honest, stable presence in his life that Uea is able to find safety and security from the sins committed against him. 

We get another drought in Episode 6 with King promising Uea a beach trip (hello water) but having to cancel due to the arranged match. No water, no movement, no growth, their relationship begins to break down and Uea begins to regress, latching on to the ‘Bed Friend’ title between them as a way to convince himself that he and King have not been going through the motions of a romantic relationship for the past few months/episodes. 

Besides the waterworks (King and Uea’s tears) the only instance of rain we get in Episode 7 is actually reserved exclusively for Uea after he stands up to his mother and his step father. 

Under a cover of rain, Uea is cleansing himself of filial obligation and is finally fighting back after years of biting his tongue. He is cleaning house, getting rid of the people who have sullied his life for so long. This marks a personal transformation for Uea, another songkran. 

Now, if you have read my posts about the use of reflections in this show, then you will know I operate under the assumption that the reflections we are given are indicative of the character’s internal emotional states.

So if you combine the reflections as emotions and the water as transformation, you can imagine the weight of King and Uea being reflected off the water when they confess their feelings for each other. King admits he likes Uea, he gets Uea to admit that he likes King, and while being reflected off the water they are able to cleanse themselves of their transgressions against each other (even though I personally think Uea did nothing wrong) and progress their relationship from the ‘friends with benefits’ phase to the ‘seeing each other’ phase. 

One aspect I have not fully mentioned of the ritual of water pouring in relation to Songkran is not only does pouring water wash away your sins, but it can wash away bad luck as well. Uea is a person who believes himself to be unlucky, and he has said as much in the show. But with this admission from King, and with them being now openly on the same page, and with Krit and the arranged match complications resolved, King and Uea (Uea especially) are able to wash away the bad luck keeping them apart. 

And we know from here on out King and Uea are going to be a tight, cohesive unit because they are frequently surrounded by water for the rest of this show. They have removed their sins, removed their bad luck, and are now granted a glorious relationship. (Of note additional rituals as a part of Songkran include washing the feet of your elders and serving delicious food. While they are not washing each other’s feet we are still getting imagery of them with their feet in water and eating food)

Episode 9, we get four minutes straight of rain, from the scene immediately after King introduces Uea to his parents as his boyfriend until King wakes up sick from the rain. 

First, we have our parallel to Uea’s rainy car ride, with King being the one to stand up to his family, say that he loves Uea and he will not be joining his parent’s company. 

He has cleansed himself of his own filial obligations, and he has Uea there to comfort him and try to break him out of the moody headspace he has gotten himself in to. The tire goes flat and King exits in to the rain to figure out what happened, and Uea brings him an umbrella, but King is already drenched.

This is a blessed rain, a rain from Siri, a rain that heals the burnt flesh from drought and allows the crops to grow. A rain that allows for the cultivation of fertile land. In this case, the growth and cultivation of King and Uea’s relationship to one another, and to themselves as individuals as well.

Very Important Side Note:  Episode 9 of Bed Friend aired the same weekend that Thailand was having their Songkran festival. 

Now, forgive me if I get any of this next part wrong, I do not understand zodiacs very well, but apparently Songkran is meant to celebrate the movement of the sun in to Aries. Now, my knowledge of zodiac is limited but I am pretty certain Aries season begins around March 20 or 21st and goes through about April 20th. King and Uea go on their Sea Trip in Episode 10 on March 25th, during Aries season. 

And uh, it might not rain in Episode 10 but…

That does not mean our boys aren’t getting absolutely covered in water at every opportunity. I mean, as evidenced above we have them fully submerged in the ocean, snorkeling.

And in the bathtub where the wine drunk boyfriends are not only being horny on main, but we have a little bit of verse action happening. This is the final water we get in the show before we get Uea’s first attempt at intentionally turning the lights off and we move towards King and Uea’s engagement. 

We get the perfect circle, Episode 1 starts the relationship between King and Uea with Uea alone in a bathtub trying to wash the memory of the evening away and ends in Episode 10 with King and Uea together in a bathtub, feasting from the bountiful harvest they have sowed throughout the show.

[mrsmarlasinger]

OH. I forgot to tell a story that I have already told everyone in my physical vicinity! The drama of it all.

So my on-and-off childhood sweetheart from age...like...eleven to twenty-something—okay, scratch that. We met for the first time when we were toddlers. So let's call him my on-and-off childhood sweetheart of basically twenty years. My first kiss, first love, so on and so forth.

You get the gist. I don't have to explain this to you.

Well, in August 2023, he pleads for me to take him back and asks something along the lines of "What would it take?"

🤨

Seriously.

Keep in mind, this is a return missionary of the Polite, Inoffensive Young Mormon Boy™ genre. My parents wanted desperately for me to marry him. (Sorry, Mom and Dad! It was never gonna work!)

This dude is a cishet who won't TECHNICALLY misgender your partner, but will refer to them exclusively by name to avoid using any pronouns whatsoever. He's a pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps Republican. You wanna know how Roe v. Wade got overturned? Lol. Lmao, even.

Me? I'm a pierced, kinky, polyamorous, weed-smoking, whiskey-loving, goreno-watching, foul-mouthed, slutty-attired, dyke-sex-having

🏳️‍🌈🌈QUEER🌈🏳️‍🌈

Sin central. Remember when "hellmaxxing" was a word? I quaff fucking cough medicine to get high. Sometimes. Doesn't matter. Anyway.

So he and I are incompatible, natch, but that was so not even relevant. Because in August 2023, I WAS LITERALLY A YEAR INTO A LESBIAN RELATIONSHIP.

"What would it take?" Bro, I hadn't dated a man in nearly half a decade! I still haven't! In fact, I am currently in a relationship with a lesbian!

What do you mean, dude.

What do you MEAN.

So I tell this boy he'd have to leave the Mormon church. Don't get me wrong, that wasn't a challenge or an ultimatum—I think he's having a great time being Mormon! Didn't work for me, but shit, man, it's working for him!

And okay, fine, do I think he gives bi-guy-with-internalized-homophobia vibes (I've dated one, I would know) and should at least give bisexuality the good ol' college try? Yes, but it's not up to me!

I just meant that, ultimately, it was the Church which drove such a divide between us. I don't believe in it—I can't believe—and neither of us would be happy compromising our beliefs for the other. And even if I compromised mine for him, I'd still be haunted by the hurt of everything he said to me when I left. All the judgment he spewed in the guise of humor.

So that's what I said.

In that moment, he looked at me with his big, sad brown eyes, and I think we understood each other perfectly.

And god, it was sad. I did use to think he and I would end up married. For ten years I thought that. Hell, everyone told us we would.

But...ohmygod. What a movie moment. For bitches who live their lives like cosplay (I'm bitches), that is like one of the top five wish fulfillment moments you could experience in your interpersonal relationships.

Honestly. Honestly. I can't stress enough that a man BEGGED FOR ME TO TAKE HIM BACK, and then I TURNED HIM DOWN.

I'm sorry but like...that's crazy. That's glamor.

So anyway, he goes off into the starry dark (yeah, and of COURSE it happened on the front porch at night. Me on the very edge of the porch step, him on the ground—vaguely Romeo and Juliet-esque. Like...the poetry. You cannot get more cinematic than that). I watch him leave, then go inside.

The next time I hear from this man, I'm drinking wine on my gay partner's couch (gay) (we are gay) (lesbians), and this man invites me to his wedding...reception. Cuz of course, I couldn't get into his temple wedding even if I wanted to.

And yes, I cried over the lame-ass cishet boy! The death of childhood sweetheartdom does, in fact, require a mourning period.

N e wayz, here's the kicker: in true Mormon fashion, the timeline from him getting rejected by The Great Love Of His Life (blushes cutely 🤭) to getting engaged was...FIVE MONTHS! Yes, folks, my nosy ass did the math!

Timeline from the big rejection to his upcoming wedding reception (in Pride month, of ALL months for straight marriage 😒🙄😤)?

🥁🥁🥁🥁...Ten months, folks!

Well, Jesus, man, I didn't want you to rebound with a marriage! Bit sick, innit? Not to inflate my already-ballooned ego, but Lord help us both, you were crushed that night on the porch! Don't saddle your poor fiancée with that baggage, mmkay?

Anyway. That's my tale. I'm genuinely happy for them (provided the marriage works well for both), and I am going to his reception in a couple weeks, though I don't expect we'll keep in contact afterward.

(She seems lovely, btw, can't wait to meet her. Here's hoping they enter the Utah Mormon swinger circle; I'm not opposed to a road trip. Kidding, obviously, and I know that that's a distasteful joke. But, like, if THEY were down—)

(KIDDING. CONSERVATIVES ARE ETHICALLY UNFUCKABLE.)

Moral of the story: I Am That Bitch 🌝🌝

[toomuchracket]

slutty thots: birthday party!matty and you discussing kinks

combining with WOAH. More about discovering kinks w Matty pls!! Like early relationship. Working out how to tell him you want him dominant. And also what would he be into?! And how would he tell you? ‘I want you to [insert kink lol] for me, baby. Can you do that?’ and i need to see something written about matty using a vibrator on you like maybe he even catches you using it when he gets home from the studio and joins in idkkk 🤭

ok SO matty immediately and absolutely knows that birthday party! girl has a praise kink, and as seen from the actual fics he exploits it immediately lol - he's watched you accept awards and praise for your writing for years, so he knows the way you blush and go giggly when someone is complimentary of your work (and you). but aside from that, he's no idea what you like. and like you said, figuring out how to tell matty you want him to be dominant is a bit of a challenge, despite the fact you guys have literally exchanged "i love you"s lol - i think you'd be in matty's lap, straddling him in a hug, and you say you want him to be like soft dom with you shyly in his ear because you literally cannot look at him while you do. BUT matty takes on the role immediately, pulling your hair firmly enough that you have to look at him (but not so firmly that it's painful) and saying "i can do that, sweetheart, but i'm enforcing a rule that you need to follow if you want to be my good girl, yeah? need you to look at me when you ask me things, need to see that beautiful face. understand?" and you nod and then pre-empt him and say "i understand", and matty's like "good girl - verbal responses too, please, helps me make sure my girl is safe and happy". and i think from there, matty can go through like a vague list of kinks and things related to him being dom with you to find out what you're into - spanking is a yes (he's very excited about that one), you're not too sure about choking but you wouldn't mind trying it to see, gags are a hard no (unless it's matty's fingers. he nearly proposes then and there when you say that lol). i also think you surprise matty a little when you say "i've thought about you, like, blindfolding me and tying my wrists to the headboard using your tie" - he's genuinely speechless for a solid two minutes before he's like "we can... yeah, i can, um, definitely do that. jesus christ". and i think from then on you're a lot more comfortable with asking for things, and experimenting with matty slowly during sex to find out what else you really like (i think spitting is definitely one he suggests that you end up really liking, after you say you think him spitting is quite sexy lol).

in terms of what matty wants from you, there isn't much in the initial stages aside from the things you've already said. but i have a theory that matty has a whole thing about watching - i think he would literally say "i want you to show me how you get off, darlin', what you did before you had me to make you feel good. can you do that for me? good girl". and part of it is genuinely so he can determine if there's anything technique-wise you like that he hasn't been doing, but it's also just... him getting to watch you, the girl he loves so much and thinks is the most beautiful, bring yourself to an orgasm. so you do - you shyly get all settled on your bed, then you take a vibrator from your bedside drawer ( matty's like OH ok) and get to work. and matty would just watch you the whole time, praising but not giving into your pleas for him to make you cum instead of the toy, very like "no, angel, i want to see you cum without me before i make you do it again, ok?", and you whine in complaint but you do as he asks and get yourself off with the toy against your clit and your fingers inside you. matty's very good after it, taking your fingers into his mouth to clean them and get a taste of you, before kissing you and saying "well done sweetheart, so good for me. can i use that toy on you while i fuck you now?", and you're whimpering out "please" before matty lays you down and fucks you, toy against your clit (which actually feels nice for him too, brushing up against it as he just rails you lol). it's so hot, and both of you get really good orgasms out of it, so it's definitely something you do again. and then i think you realise you like watching matty get himself off, too, and you both figure out you love it when he fucks you from behind in front of the big mirror in your bedroom, so you can see how hot you both look while matty's railing you within an inch of your life lol. but yeah, i think it's constant talking about new things and trying them - matty's just so desperate to make you feel as good as he can <3

[triviareads]

ARC Review of Give the Devil His Duke by Anna Bradley

Summary:

Francesca Stanhope is content with being a wallflower during her one and only season. She does not count on catching the attention of Giles, the Duke of Basingstoke, nor the ton at large. Giles is all but engaged to Francesca's cousin Susannah, in a bid to lessen the decades-long hostility between the two families. The machinations of a gossip columnist force them to come to a détente for Susannah and his sister's sake, but what they don't count on is the mutual attraction growing between them.

My review:

I LOVED this book! Loved it. It's my first by Anna Bradley and I will definitely be reading more of her. Let me get into what worked for me:

First the characters: Francesca was a perfect combination of world-weary and innocent. Life dealt her a hard hand, but she's determined to push through, somehow. A scrappy gal, if you will. She doesn't automatically give into society's demands, nor Giles's for that matter (but not in a bratty way, if that makes sense? Like, girlie has her pride and is just trying to get by). So when she successfully blackmails her terrible uncle, you can't help but applaud, you know?

Giles is kind of a bitch in the beginning but it works because you know exactly where he's coming from: he's so hot and blond and a duke so nobody's ever said no to him. You see that start to change (or his better angels are revealed) as he interacts more with Francesca, and his final weeks-long grovel (yes! there is a grovel— an excellent grovel) cements that change.

The plot was tight and well-done. Francesca just wants to get through the season, and maybe reconnect with her estranged cousin, but the gossip columnist and the gossip that the ton circulates about Francesca and Giles messes with that. What's interesting is that Giles faces a lot of social consequences (potential and real) because of the fickleness of the ton, even if typically, I'd be inclined to assume the man would get off easier than the woman. This might be attributed to Giles's late father being The Worst (it's implied he sexually assaulted Francesca's mother, and then he killed Fran's father in a duel afterwards), and the entire ton knew it. Ultimately, Circumstances get so out of hand Giles asks Francesca to marry him, and the final portion of the plot concerns them having to navigate a marriage that was proposed to mitigate rumors, but it's a delicate thing because they have very real feelings for one another.

Let me take this opportunity to scream about the chemistry. THE CHEMISTRY. It's there. It's EXCELLENT. Because Giles is a slutty slutty hero, he's obviously deeply aware of Francesca right off the bat, even while he's technically almost engaged to her cousin (but that adds to the forbidden-ness of it all, right?). However, what I loved was that Francesca was equally aware of Giles, even when she went through various periods of dislike for him. She fixates on his mouth a lot. She has vague sex dreams. SPEAKING of sex dreams—

The sex:

Fabulous. Very hot. Because of their natural chemistry right off the bat, even in tender scenes, like when Francesca runs out during a musicale and Giles comforts her, there's this layer of sexual awareness present, which makes for very promising follow-through.

And there is great follow-through. Reading Giles and Francesca crack after just a couple days apart and unable to contain themselves was great. Same for their wedding night and perhaps most importantly, during make-up sex.

I think this is one of those situations where what makes the sex good isn't the wildness of the sex acts, but it genuinely comes down to two people you get the sense are constantly, deeply aware of one another, and constantly want to fuck, even when they're on the outs.

Overall:

I would strongly recommend this book for literally every HR reader. On the surface, it seems like a standard ballroom romance, and it is, to a degree. But it's the characters and their arcs that really make the book special, along with the natural chemistry (have I said this word too many times? ah well.) between Francesca and Giles that manifests itself in the dialogue, in their actions, in the sex, etc. Go read this asap.

Thank you to Kensington Books and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for my review.

[icharchivist]

I saw recommend post with Lucio and I wonder how fucking confusing it would for new players if they added Lucilius and just after him Lucio, but in his summer outfit just being... Lucio, just who the fuck is that dude

Yes, I just want to hear his interaction with Belial, maybe some Belial confusion because he knows who Lucio is and... WHY THE HELL IS HE FLIRTING BACK AND GUIDING HIM TO THE HOTEL ROOM, WHY THE HELL IS CHAMPAGNE HERE, WHERE ARE HIS CLOTHES

Belial just can't keep up because he is such devoted christian or something 💖

DFJDMFLKFDLMFDK

introducing non gbf fans to the concept of the Lucifaces is always a trip, so this would be interesting to see how people would react. esp since they must be vaguely aware of Lucifer since his death has been mentioned before.

So Lucio showing up is just like. "ANOTHER ONE OF THEM????" and then they learn it's the slutty one.

really want to see Lucio and Belial's interraction considering Belial is a concentrated of a lot of Lucio's shortfailing. how is that mirror treating you, Lucio? A man who hates snake above it all, now having to watch this serpent, devoted to an unloving master to the point of debauchery. how is that mirror Lucio?

meanwhile Belial would probably be stunned to see someone looking just like his brother and master and see so much of himself into it. Like damn that was unexpected, how is he supposed to keep up?

juicy dynamic. would love to see it

[rickfucker]

SFW Rick Headcanons (GN!)

BC why not. This season is literally so good so I’m celebrating with this nonsense >:)

I am of the belief that Rick is huge on PDA. If you asked him, though, he’d deny it vehemently.

Arm around your shoulder on the couch, around your waist out in public, hand on your thigh when he’s driving. If there’s the chance to make someone else uncomfortable for his own personal enjoyment, he will take it. He doesn’t like it when people so much as look at you wrong. He will let them know you’re taken in the most obnoxious way possible.

He also loves PDA for the sake of embarrassing you. Getting to see his SO blush/get flustered makes life worth living.

He’s tall as all hell so: resting his chin on top of your head and top of the head kisses!!

Comparing hand sizes because yes.

Obviously, he’s a hard man to get close to. I imagine he does a good job at making you feel like you know him/relate to him one moment, but when he realizes he’s shown any vulnerability, he locks back up and gets pissy about it for a few days. Absolute King of mixed signals.

When he picks up on things that interest you, he finds things on his adventures to bring you, whether it's snowglobes of alien planets or potions or geodes or whatever. He’ll never directly give you a gift, though, he’ll just leave it somewhere inconspicuous like next to where you keep your other trinkets in your home.

(The first time you try to thank him for a gift, he acts like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. It’s never brought up again, but your collection mysteriously keeps growing.)

If you’re significantly shorter than him (or just shorter than him at all), he will tease you for it. If you’re stubborn about reaching all the shit on high shelves yourself, he’ll just stand there watching you amusedly instead of helping. Glaring at him will only entertain him further.

I do imagine he does best with a SO equally as insufferable as him. Nice people will never break past his hard exterior. But someone just as stubborn? Someone he can intellectually spar with? Someone with just as much baggage to be bitter about? That, he can work with.

He loves introducing you to new alien drugs, honestly. If not just for the fun of it, he probably already finds you fascinating, so he’d be studying your reactions when not partaking in it himself.

Rick talks during movies. Shocker; the man never shuts up. You have weekly movie nights with the family, but Rick just mercilessly makes fun of whatever you’re watching for its entirety. It could literally be Shawshank Redemption, he doesn’t care. Every Earth-made movie can and will be mocked in his household.

I’m not under the impression he wouldn’t say The Love Word. Give him enough time and he will get there. He gets so annoyed with his own hubris that he makes a point of saying it first. He knows what love feels like and he knows he’s in love with you, and being in love pisses him off just as much as denying it to protect his pride does.

He barely sleeps, and when he does it’s only for a few hours. When he wakes in the early hours of the morning, he’ll watch you sleep for a while before tucking you in and heading to his work space.

He loves just making out; it makes him feel young.

Learns how you like your coffee (or tea!), and it’s always sitting there when you get up for the day, regardless of if you’re at his house or not.

Seeing you get along with the kids makes his self-proclaimed frozen heart melt a little. His only way of showing this is vague annoyance, mostly because they’re taking your attention away from him. 

What can I say? He’s the biggest baby in the universe.

Bonus: 

He dresses up as Slutty Santa to disturb his family. Makes you sit on his lap and tell him what you want for Christmas later that night.