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#okay but i pretty sure this this is an actual chat that happens but i can't find it
avalikesf19 · 1 day
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A Day at quadrant: LN4 (Part 2)
Author note: I don’t even know how to post anything on this and never wrote a fic but I hope this is good but I think it’s pretty shit and I haven’t finished it yet and if any writers want to use this idea you can for sure just @ me please oh and if you have feedback please let me know thanks xx
Also i tried to change my like writing style thing cause i feel like it was shit last time but yeah idk
Lando x quadrant fem reader
Blurb: reader is a member of quadrant, she games most of the time but also likes f1 along with her best friend Ria bish. She is friends with all members at quadrant and finds it a good laugh with all her mates, but maybe her view of someone in particular is more than a mate..
Warnings: sexualising, swearing, mention of a gun, leaked tape, sad distraught reader, friends to maybe lovers if I make it a series? Smut-ish? If I missed any let me know (I don’t know how to do warnings sorry x)
Well wasn't last week a fucking eventful week. You still cant stop thinking about Lando right next to you comforting you about what happened. You're starting to feel better about the whole issue and get some support from people online and all the other members of quadrant, but fuck that was just shit. You haven't been in any quadrant videos since, but you're in a better place now and probably need to start participating in them more.
Lando and ethan make the idea of quadrant meeting up at landos apartment and trying to train like him for a day. You aren't exactly looking foward to it but oh well, at least Ria is going. You text your gc back and tell them that you will do it too. Then, you get a message.
Lando: are you 100% sure ur okay to come back and film already? you dont have to if you dont want to.
Y/n: yep. I need to get in more videos and im feeling better anyways, thanks for asking.
Lando: all good
Well that was polite and unexpected of Lando to reach out, but whats more unexpected is for your panties to be soaked right now over 2 text messages. well fuck, oopsies.
That night all you can think of is Lando, it's a bit embarrassing to admit, but he was circling around your head like it was an f1 race. You decide to get your head out of it and call Ria to come over and have a chat, since she is your best friend after all. Shortly she pulls up to your apartment in Monaco, funning in bursting of excitement to see you.
"RIAAAAAAA!" you shout when you open the door for her. "Y/NNNN" she replied back. You give her a hug and make her a cup of coffee just how she likes it. You guys sit and chat about the f1 grand prix in Bahrain coming up, and how you hope Lando continues to have a good season with Oscar this year. "Did you see the chat about the new yt vid we doing" You ask Ria. "omg yes and they are bringing angry ginge in I heard" Ria replies back.
"STOP IT" you yell back laughing. You love ginge and his videos, who wouldn't? he's a very very funny bloke. "OMG i''m definitely coming tomorrow then to the recording are you kidding?".
Unfortunately time goes by when you're having fun, and Ria was the most fun, so she had to go a few hours later which felt like minutes. Besides you both need sleep for the youtube vid you're filming tmr at Lando's. You go to bed and try to sleep as much as you can, which didnt happen lol.
rise and shine love. It's already 6am and time to go to Lando's place to film. Normally you don't have to wakeup early as fuck but for the purpose of the video and "being Lando Norris" you had no choice. You get to his apartment after parking at the front and knock on the door, to which he opens. "hi y/n" he says nicely and gives you a hug. "So good to see you Lando, where is everyone?".
"first here mate" he says almost excitedly. "so what are we actually doing today like playing video games or some shit" you say. "haha your funny mate, we are lifting weights, eating what i eat, using the sim, and neck strengthening" he says laughing at you. "fuck r u taking the piss" you say laughing. "oh my days Landoooo do I look like an f1 driver" you also reply with. "well yeah thats the whole point of the video ya dumb fuck" he replied jokingly.
"hahaha get fucked lando nowins" you snap back. he laughs as you proceed to miss the chair you went to lean on making you flinch and stumble looking like an idiot. he is still laughing which makes you laugh too. "Lando norizz" u reply. "haha you think I have no rizz, funny" he replies egotistically. "yeah i do actually" you don't at all, in fact he hasn't even tried yet he has rizzed you up. "wanna bet?" he snaps out.
you don't have time to think before he pins you against the wall and just looks at you with those hot eyes of his. you can already feel your cheeks burning and your thong getting wet. "you say I have no rizz yet your cheeks are burning, and I bet those panties are more soaked than that porridge you tipped over the counter when you stumbled at my gaze, huh?" he grunts out.
what the fuck just happened, first how did he know and secondly did he just pin you against the wall. not the first time you want that to happen. you know what fuck it if we wants to be like that then he may as well be uncomfortable the whole video.
"how did you know about my tight, black lacy thong i'm wearing over my tight pussy hey? not your first time thinking about it aye?" you tease him, but whole walking over to him you see him looking uneasy.
why? because ginge was at the fucking door and heard that, and can see Lando's boner from a mile away. "well bonjour" ginge says laughing. "bonjour mate" lando says as he daps up ginge covering his boner and trying to ignore what just happened.
You already know this video is gonna be the longest set of your life..
sorry its a short one x
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kiwi-bitchez · 2 months
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The Girlfriend Experience
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Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 
Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise
Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!
A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 
“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.
“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”
“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.
“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”
“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”
“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”
“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 
This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.
“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.
“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”
You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 
There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 
“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”
You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.
When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.
After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.
It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 
“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.
Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 
“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”
She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 
“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 
You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 
“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”
“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 
“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”
“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.
“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”
You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 
“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”
“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 
“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 
“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 
“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.
“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”
“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 
Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 
“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”
He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 
“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”
“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”
The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 
Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.
“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 
When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”
Still no reply.
“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 
“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 
Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”
“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”
“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 
“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”
“Huh?”
“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 
“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.
“No.”
“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.
“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”
“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 
“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 
“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“
“No,” you cut him off.
“WHA-“
“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”
“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 
“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”
“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 
“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”
“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.
This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 
After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 
After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.
As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 
Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 
“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”
It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.
“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 
“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 
On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 
“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”
He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 
You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 
“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 
“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”
“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”
“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.
Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  
“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”
“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  
“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”
“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 
“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 
“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”
“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 
“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 
You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 
“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 
He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 
Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 
“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 
“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 
“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”
The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 
“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 
“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”
“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”
Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 
Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 
“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”
“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 
“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”
“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 
“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”
“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”
“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 
“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”
“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”
“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”
“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 
“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 
The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 
“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”
“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”
“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”
“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”
He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 
“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 
“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 
“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”
‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.
You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.
“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 
He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 
He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.
As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 
“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”
The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 
Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.
Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 
He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 
As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 
“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 
He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 
You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 
The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 
You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 
Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 
But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 
You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 
“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  
After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 
“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”
“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 
“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 
You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 
He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?
On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 
He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 
Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 
You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 
“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 
“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 
The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 
“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.
“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”
He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.
“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”
To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.
“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”
Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 
After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 
Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 
You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.
Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 
As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 
“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 
“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.
“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.
“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 
“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 
Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 
“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”
Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 
“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.
Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 
You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 
“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”
“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.
“From bugs?”
“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”
“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”
You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.
“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.
“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 
“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”
You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.
After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 
It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 
The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 
Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 
Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.
What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 
“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 
You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.
“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.
“Am I what?”
“Are you asking me?”
“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 
“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.
Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.
Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 
Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 
He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 
While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.
“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”
“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”
“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”
He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 
“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 
“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”
Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.
“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”
As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.
Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.
“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”
“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”
“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”
“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”
“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.
“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”
“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”
You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 
The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 
A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 
It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 
Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.
Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 
“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 
There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 
“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.
“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”
“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”
You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 
Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.
“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 
“Oh, I was just waiting for-“
“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.
Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“
“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.
Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.
“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.
“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.
He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 
“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.
“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”
“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 
“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”
“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”
A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 
“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”
“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.
“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”
You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 
“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”
“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.
“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 
He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 
“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 
As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 
“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”
You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 
“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.
You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 
“Oh my god, fuck off!”
You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.
Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 
“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 
“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.
“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 
“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”
“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.
“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”
Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 
“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 
“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 
“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."
“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”
Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.
“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”
He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 
It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 
“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 
“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”
Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 
“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 
He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.
Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.
He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 
“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.
“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.
You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.
He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 
Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 
“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”
Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 
“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 
The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.
“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”
Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”
“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”
“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 
“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”
“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”
If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 
The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.
He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 
“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”
Jackpot. 
A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 
“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 
Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 
He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 
“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”
Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 
“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”
The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 
“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”
“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.
“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”
You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 
His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 
Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 
Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 
If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.
“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”
“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”
He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 
Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 
You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 
“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 
“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”
“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”
You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 
As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 
“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 
“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”
You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 
“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 
You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.
He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.
The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 
Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.
You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 
And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.
“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 
You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.
Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 
Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 
He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 
You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.
You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 
All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 
The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.
“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 
After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 
You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.
Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 
“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.
He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 
“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 
“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”
Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 
“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 
“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 
“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”
You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 
Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 
“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”
The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.
Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 
“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 
Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 
You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 
In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 
“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 
He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 
You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 
Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 
“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 
It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 
Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 
“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 
“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 
In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 
The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.
“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 
He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.
Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 
His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 
Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 
He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 
He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 
Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 
“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.
“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.
“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 
His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 
“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”
The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 
“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 
Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 
Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 
Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.
“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 
“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”
Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 
“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 
A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 
As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 
He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 
When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 
“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 
“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 
“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 
He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 
“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.
“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 
“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.
He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 
“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 
“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”
“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 
You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.
“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 
“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 
“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 
“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 
He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 
As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.
“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”
“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”
His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 
You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 
Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.
“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 
“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 
He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 
“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 
And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.
His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 
When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 
“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”
With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 
The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 
Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 
He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.
Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 
“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 
“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”
Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 
“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 
“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”
His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 
The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 
When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 
His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.
Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 
You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 
You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 
You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 
Apparently not,
Days pass, and no call. 
It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 
After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 
Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 
“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 
“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”
“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”
“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 
You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 
“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 
“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”
Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 
“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”
“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”
He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“
You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”
“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.
At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 
“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”
“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”
You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 
“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”
“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”
“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”
“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”
“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”
Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 
Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 
“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 
You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 
“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”
You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 
Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 
Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.
At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.
And there he is.
In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.
"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.
"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."
You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.
"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."
He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.
"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."
You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.
"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."
He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.
"And I owe you a few dates, for real."
As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.
"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.
"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.
You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.
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myunghology · 5 months
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twisted wonderland 2nd years, except they're helplessly in love.
pairings ; riddle, ruggie, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, silver x gn! reader. (seperate).
tw ; none.. unless it's a bit too cheesy..?
a/n ; my first twst work.. im terrified!!
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☆ — RiDDLE ROSEHEARTS
nope. will not allow it. he has his priority- which is his grades. he won't allow himself to be distracted by you. (more below the cut!)
but you are gorgeous tho, he'll admit that.
oh, would you look at that.. he's been distracted.
other students, even students outside heartslabyul are getting a bit weirded out, like what do you mean he's stopping in his tracks just to watch you pass by.
doesn't even notice it himself that he's staring at you. it's about time he notices that he'd stopped walking is when floyd smacked his head..
well, to be fair, he's noticed himself that he gets nervous whenever he invites you to unbirthday parties, he feels like everything has to be perfect.
—which is why some heartslabyul students are kinda annoyed when you come. only because they have to do so much with riddle pressuring them every 10 minutes. they like you generally though!
plus riddle seems more relaxed when you're around. that's just a bonus though! (is it really)
cater has multiple pictures of riddle just staring at you— his gaze softening whenever his eyes land on you instinctively.
he offers to hold open the door for you whenever you run into each other outside the classrooms, he offers to help you whenever you ever get injured playing some sport, and he even let's you borrow his notes if you were absent in class for a good reason.
sure, maybe he might be a bit arrogant, and a bit of a cry baby, and definitely strict— but he has respect for everyone. especially you.
riddle rosehearts is truly, a gentleman in a world full of boys.
☆ — RUGGiE BUCCHi
him? in love? absolutely.
if ruggie was in love, it'll probably be obvious. he tries to hide it though,, but it's clear he isn't good at that.
he's pretty chill around you though, nothing too awkward.
let me tell you this, whenever you ask him for a request, he'll want something back. no, he isn't gonna ask for a kiss or a date. stop imagining that.
he wants you to pay him back by a favor, so that he can pull the "you owe me a favor, since i did ___ for you." card.
okay maybe then he'll ask you on a date. or he'll ask you to steal something from a student.
what can i say.. it's 50/50.. slowly leaning onto the date idea though.
ruggie isn't oblivious, or stupid either. he knows when he's in love. he's just too afraid to admit it. sometimes leona makes fun of him for being a "wimp" and to just confess.
also stares at you, but in class this time. bro isn't listening at all actually because he's too busy looking at you.
maybe i will admit that ruggie is a little shit but he's actually a sweetheart when he wants to be. it's a win/win situation if you like annoying guys but has a soft spot for you.
spoiler: he eventually sucks it tf up and soon confesses.
☆ — AZUL ASHENGROTTO
azul may be a tad bit conscious about what you think about him. screw that- he's definitely conscious about what you think about him. from not only about what happened during his overblot and from his insecurities.
he knows you aren't that type of person, but he can't help it.
it makes him feel a million times better when you reassure him though. even if it's making him a bit delusional.. but then again you might be saying that just because you pity him.
"or maybe they're just nice and they actually care have you ever thought of that" - floyd
you go to monstro lounge about once a week, and for sure, azul has sent jade and floyd to take care of you well, since of couse, most of the time he's busy.
floyd almost exposed azul's crush on you once when you two were chatting, thankfully jade was there to cover his mouth before he continued speaking.
but when he is actually there face to face actually talking to you, he sounds smug but in reality, he's a nervous wreck in the inside. you obviously know that though.
wait till you tell him that you find him cute..
he explodes
no i'm joking, he's just blushing really hard. like.. too much. again- it's kinda obvious that he likes you whenever you compliment him.
☆ — JADE LEECH
so, so respectful when talking to you. still a bit teasing though. he offers to help you even if you're carrying just one thing.
always glad to see you when you're visiting monstro lounge, floyd loves you just as much, but in a platonic way! he isn't going to steal jades version of his 'shirmpy'.
tried to make a drink thats named by you, azul didn't allow it, unfortunately. (for him). i'd be embarrassed tbh.
in your opinion jade is a bit weird.. but he's still super nice to you, no matter how weird this guy seems. he would never do anything that would make you uncomfortable.
similar to riddle- he opens doors for you, sometimes offers to cook for you, and sometimes treats you whenever you're at montro lounge. only if azul allows it though, which is pretty rare. like jade wtf dym "its on the house" no it's not shut up.
you sometimes wonder if his mushrooms are safe to eat or not.
it's probably best not to ask him though.
he may or may have not tried breaking into your dorm room because you weren't attending class and you weren't responding to his messages asking where you were. it was all on concern tho don't worry i swe-
genuinely doesn't have a problem with confessing, but he only confesses until he's confident that you like him back.
trigger warning for floyd though since he's probably gonna pop out anytime soon during the confession..
☆ — FLOYD LEECH
my condolences if he ever likes you.
just kidding, it'd be pretty fun if floyd started to like you. only if you really like his bone crushing hugs.
doesn't hide his crush on you at all, you gotta be super oblivious if you don't notice it if he didn't even confess to you yet the moment he finds out that he likes you.
you're definitely scared shitless whenever you see him. when you try to run away he chases you around the halls and he's so damn fast, it's nearly impossible to escape him.
plus- his mood swings too? who knows if he'll get excited when you run away from him or if he's gonna get pissed off.. but mostly he gets excited though.
has kabedoned you one, too many times. mostly to fluster you, but also to get your attention.
easily gets jealous- especially when someone else hugs you for a long time. no one can hug his shrimpy except him! he isn't possessive, that's just how floyd is.
also stares at you in class- but throws paper airplanes at you, with the writings inside saying "HI".
ends up getting in trouble because either he got caught, or riddle snitched. most likely the second one tho.
drags you to monstro lounge to help him clean up his OWN messes, but he (might) have intentionally done this to spend time with you..
☆ — KALiM AL-ASiM
probably one of the best people ever to have a crush on you if that even makes sense..
spoils you rotten, even more than when he spoils his friends which is obviously already huge. wanna buy something online but can't? he's already asking for the link so he can buy it for you!
you obviously feel bad whenever he does this, so you try to remind him that he doesn't have to do all of this stuff for you.
not only with gifts, he spoils you rotten with affection too. you feel bad for jamil as well, he seems annoyed, but as long as kalim's happy.
very very respectful and nice to you, and will stop anything you don't want him to do anytime, he sometimes flirts with you unintentionally too..
hugs you literally at literally any chance he gets, he's also pretty clingy, if you haven't noticed that yet.
shows you off to other scarabia students, it's pretty obvious that he has a crush on you too.
bro's lovesick
gets so upset when something happens to you because of him, worries that people will try to do some crazy shit to you as well because you have a good connection with him..
introduces you to his family like you're his wife or something.. and then when you ask him what are you guys he'll go:
"are we not engaged" "NO??"
he was fully convinced that you guys were dating already
he's a little bit delusional but that's ok..
☆ — JAMiL ViPER
like riddle, jamil does not have the time to fall in love with someone since he's already busting his ass off taking care of kalim.. and with his academics too. plus the overblot situation but we don't talk about that.
maybe you are a little bit scared of him as well, but little do you know this guy will literally adjust for you anytime. it's really hard to see though when he does.
VERY hard to see that he has a crush on you though. you'd confess and he'd be like,
"i gave you so much signs what do you mean i might not like you back"
you were starstruck when you heard him say that. what does he mean signs. does he mean when he glared at you in class..? you thought you did something wrong for a second.
like floyd, kalim once almost exposed jamil for liking you accidentally.. don't get me wrong, jamil didn't tell kalim anything, he just found out himself.
jamil definitely likes you trying his culture's food, especially if he cooked it himself! it's not obvious, but he lets a small smile creep up onto his lips.
studies with you too if you're ever having a hard time. studying? nah, more like tutoring.. he's kinda harsh at first but then softens up a bit when he sees that you're really struggling.
☆ — SiLVER
im sure we all know silver is a generally pretty reserved person. and that doesn't change even when he's crushing on you.
but you do notice him stealing glances from time to time whenever you walk past him, lilia definitely asks him about that.
he may be a tad bit more open with you than others? but it's purely because he trusts you.
you sometimes tie his hair to the hairstyle called "apple hair" when he's sleeping and he doesn't notice even when he wakes up, he only notices after looking at a mirror..
genuinely doesn't mind though. lilia thinks it's adorable (he also thinks you guys are perfect for each other)
and that's why lilias opinions are always important..
generally, you guys usually talk through chat because you two don't really have the time to talk to each other physically.
but still, he still thinks you're beautiful. even if he can't see you all the time. this dynamic is kinda like a hallway crush typebeat..??
lilia is your number 1 fan alongside malleus!! sebek still has mixed feelings but he likes you generally! he just isn't sure if he likes you for silver.. or if he's not sure if he likes silver for you.. does that make sense?
after awhile he joins malleus and lilia.
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©myunghology
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Okay, so with Quackity Studios tweeting about adding new people and the need for tolerance and patience with people who don't speak English, let's just take a second and have a chat about what that's gonna look like.
First: you will hear things or read things on the translator that hurt or offend you.
This is inevitable. Do not immediately post about it. What you need tolerance for is hearing things that hurt or offend you and what you need patience for is figuring out of malicious intent was present or if this is a hill worth dying on right now.
As an example, we're pretty sure at this point that Korean is gonna be the next language added. The second person pronoun in Korean sounds a lot like the n-word in English. The n-word in English, if you're not aware, is like the single most offensive slur we have. It's not something that you want to hear unexpectedly. But also, if we get Koreans, they're gonna be using the word for "you" and English speakers are gonna have to be able to tolerate that.
On the other side of things, Korean has a complex system of honorifics and addressing someone without an honorific would be considered very forward and intimate at least if not very rude. None of the QSMP languages have honorifics though and only French really retains formality* so no one else is going to address them with honorifics unless they specifically explain it to people and walk them through it. That will probably be weird and uncomfortable for them and they're going to have to be able to tolerate that.
*Spanish and Portuguese do technically have formal vs informal but it's disappearing quickly in both of them.
These natural cultural clashes and pain points are going to be harder to overcome since we also know that at least some of these creators won't speak English at all so they can't just switch to English to helpfully explain things to us easily in a way we understand. We're going to have to deal.
So here's the thing: just because there can be cultural miscommunications and mistranslations, that doesn't mean that people can't also be assholes. How do you distinguish between the two?
Step One: Assume good faith. Assume that everyone in a given encounter is trying to communicate respectfully and compassionately and that a failure to do so can be overcome
Step Two: Don't get involved. Especially not in Twitch Chat. Two or more people trying to communicate through a language barrier does not get easier when they're also trying to wrangle hostile viewers.
Step Three: Are you sure you heard what you thought you heard or saw what you thought you saw? Did the translator fuck up? Is it a word that just coincidentally happens to sound like another word? If this is the case, the streamers can ask for clarification or use another tool and get it cleared up. Keep watching and see if they do.
Step Four: If they did say what you thought they said, are the streamers handling it? We had a thing a while back where Bad called some friends, including Bagi and Etoiles, uncultured because they didn't get a reference he was making and Etoiles was like "bro I'm French" and Bad apologized. That should have been the end of it, but I had to see people arguing about it for weeks. The problem was solved in 10 seconds.
Step Five: If the person is doubling down, are you sure this is something you can fix by yelling about it on Twitter or Tumblr? Would it be better to let people who actually know them talk to them behind the scenes? Pierre made a few missteps in the beginning of the server, Quackity said they had a chat, Pierre hasn't misstepped since. It's just easier to sort things out in private, one on one conversation than yelling at someone in public.
In short: it's fine to take note of behavior in case patterns start to emerge in it, but yelling on social media about how so and so is the worst person possible is not constructive.
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railingsofsorrow · 7 months
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Recharging. . .
[spencer reid x reader]
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summary: spencer's best remedy is his little family.
pairing: s.reid x f!reader (+ eden reid!)
w.c: 3.8K
warnings/content: fluff; cuteness overload; children; spencer is a girl's dad; discussion of a case; mentions of death and traumatic events; this is basically a hurt/comfort blurb; mentions of pregnancy; mentions of marriage; crying.
A/N: is anybody in need of some fluff? this was supposed to be a short drabble.... enjoy this old WIP as I finish some of my requests.
loosely inspired by ocie elliott's take me home
want to read more works about this au?
→ day-off
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You stopped the low humming to the song as you eyed the rearview mirror to check on your kid. The familiar scratching against your seat warning you she was awake.
“Hey bub,” you take advantage of the red traffic light to dive your hand back and tickle her bare feet. She'd always kick off her shoes the first chance she got. Your favorite sound echoes through the car: her giggle. “You were just napping, where'd that energy come from?” you refer again to the tip of her feet bumping against your car seat. Another reminder that she was getting bigger every day.
Eden raised her arms, wriggling her little fingers like she did when she was excited for something. You were pretty sure she got that from Penelope, you always saw they do this whenever she came over to your place.
“We're visiting daddy!”
A laugh bubbles out of you. Eden left you amazed by her perception of things. Although the route from your apartment to the BAU wasn't that strange for her anymore, given that you and Spencer drove a lot to drop each other off with her in the car.
“Are we?” You turn on an avenue, humming. “I didn't notice.”
Eden looks at you through the rearview mirror, “but you're driving, mommy. You need the GPS. It's in your head.”
“Is it?” You're amused at your toddler's choice of words. “Okay. Yes, we're visiting daddy at work. We've come to pick him up because he's very tired from a case and it's not good to drive while you're tired, right?”
“Right!” She nods vehemently, craning her neck to check on the view through the window. “And he needs me to recharge his bats.”
You finish parking your car and a smile curls up the edges of your mouth. Eden can't say the word batteries so she shortened it to an easier version which is bats. You still have to teach her what the word actually means.
“That's right,” you say, taking off your seatbelt and opening the door. By the time you reach the backseat, Eden is grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her excitement never ceases to rub off on you, even though you enter this building most of the days in a week. “Hi, baby.” You cooed, welcoming your child in your arms after unbuckling her seatbelt. Her light brown curls that you have no idea who she got it from tickle the side of your face as she snuggles to your chest to stare at the tall FBI building.
“Shoes on. Coat on. All warmed up. Shall we go up?”
An eager Eden exclaims a loud YES and that's enough for you to start walking.
From “Spencer”:
[6:34 p.m] No need to pick me up, angel, I can drive. I am not that tired.
[6:35 p.m] Is Eden still at your mom's? I can pick her up on the way.
This is the mutual feeling you have on workdays. Not in a million years you'd understand how hard it was to be away from your daughter for more than one day. Until it happened.
It makes your heart break when you're not able to tuck her into bed or pick her up at school to see her excited little legs run towards you. In spite of the fact that Spencer and you manage well to alternate days at work so she always has one of you close by, it's difficult to not see her every day when a case takes either one of you out of the city.
You can only image how much he misses her after being away for four days.
You left the messages unanswered and click on another chat instead. Light of my life with a bunch of hearts is the one you're looking for. Penelope somehow stole your phone someday and changed her contact name to this; you never changed it back, just left as it was, it suits her anyway.
“Smile.” You request Eden as you lift your phone to take a selfie of the two of you. Her grin exposes her two missing front teeth. “Done.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her in your hold to type another text, waiting for the elevator to reach your desired floor.
To “Light of my life 💗❤️💕”
[6:38 p.m] incoming at five... four... three...
You hit send right as the elevator doors spread open.
Just as you step into the bullpen, it's as if a switch has flipped because your daughter promptly tucks her face into the croak of your neck, her cold nose making your shiver slightly. Her hands clinging onto your blouse.
Eden gets shy under watchful eyes, no matter how many times she visits the BAU.
Penelope is walking briskly out of her office, her hands wriggling into your direction as she catches sight of you and the bundle in your arms. Every eye in the bullpen turns to you because of the commotion.
You haven't seen your husband yet.
“There is pumpkin!” That's the reason that pulls Eden out of her shell. She practically throws herself out of your arms and into her favourite aunt's arms. “Oh, hello, hello, my beautiful niece, whom I have missed so much!”
Eden is giggling and you can't help but smile softly at the scene. Soon, your friends start approaching one by one. It doesn't take long for Eden to have at least two new toys in her hands. Emily and Derek are competing which one she likes best.
“She's so big.” JJ entwines her arm with yours.
You sigh, leaning closer to her, “Yes, she is.” You say, observing Eden play with Emily. “Henry as well! How is he by the way? We haven't had a playdate in so long.”
JJ nods, “He's great, my sweet boy.” Her eyes hold a fondness that you relate. “And that's true. We have to set up a date, catch up on things that aren't murders and blood.”
“Preach, Jayge.”
Your laughter dies down when the two people missing from the group appear. Your eyes met Spencer's and his whole body seems to relax as if it physically pained him to stand and seeing you just helped him take a breath of fresh air. Luke greeted you with a side hug and was immediately captured by Eden's endearing spell, as expected. Although, once Spencer entered her line of sight, no one else mattered.
Spencer let his satchel drop to the ground without a care so he could scoop Eden up as she jumped into his arms. His sullen demeanor converting into a cheerful one in a blink of an eye. This is what Eden means by “recharging”.
You watch the reunion with a growing smile, deciding to approach them a little later.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Spencer says while peppering kisses at her cheek, her little nose and her forehead. Eden could only reply with giggles as her whole face became red at the overwhelming love she's receiving. “Daddy missed you so much, did you know that?” And the crack in his voice goes unnoticed by her, but not by you, so you take advantage of everyone's distraction to step towards your little family.
Eden is giving her dad a butterfly kiss when you get to them. That's her way of saying I missed you to any of you when you come back home.
“Hey,” you squeeze his arm in a gentle touch, grabbing his attention. “Tough one?” your question is discreet, only meant for him. Eden is fortunately too busy with her new stuffed toy that Derek is showing her to notice anything else.
The dimmed spark in Spencer's eyes along with the red outline of his eyelids are everything you need to know. You don't need words — you never needed words to understand Spencer — but he provides you a meek yeah and swallows hard. The only thing that seems to be holding him back from crumbling down is the fact that he's holding his daughter.
In an attempt of comfort, you pull his free hand to yours, intertwining your fingers and giving it a tight squeeze. Just for him to know that you were there and it's okay now.
He repeats the action, the corner of his lips pulling slightly. His attention is quickly stolen back to Eden, who starts listing possible names to the new friends that uncle Derek and auntie Emily had gifted her.
They discuss the matter until you bid everyone goodbye, a playdate, a babysitting afternoon and a girls night out scheduled. Trying to take Eden from Spencer was foolish, he didn't want to let her go. No matter how tired he was. Better yet, she didn't want to let him go either.
“I think grapes would be a great name, E.” Spencer praises her daughter's naming skills as he buckled her up in the safety seat. “What about this one?” He grabs the green bunny and places it in front of his face, his voice in a high-pitched tone to imitate an animal's voice. “What will you name me after, miss Eden Reid? I am green and I like carrots!”
Eden's bright caramel eyes glint with joy and she pulls the bunny to her chest, holding it tightly. “I know what I'm going to call them.”
“You do?” You were starting to be curious as well.
“Mr. Greenie.”
“You're so clever.” Spencer and Eden shared accomplice smiles and you see everything of him in her at that single action. It was in the nose scrunch whenever she found something particularly funny, in the spark of mischief in her eyes and even the outline of her mouth which you never stopped noticing from the moment she was born. Eden carried a lot of mannerisms and features from you but those things? They definitely came from him.
He's not even halfway to the driver's side when you steal the keys that he had stolen from you when you were in the building. You've known each other for ten years, for three out of those ten you have been married and Spencer still thinks he can be slick with you.
“You're riding shotgun today, pretty boy.”
His eyes are filled with amusement as you walk by and give his butt a soft squeeze.
“Really?” He says, leaning on your window. You had already turned the engine on when you give him a serious look. “It's a long drive. You already drove all the way here.”
Giving him an eyeroll, you muse, “It's not that long, Spence. And you're tired. Just get in.”
Quantico wasn't far from your home, but ten minutes in the road was enough to send Eden to dreamland. You were certain she had fallen asleep when her humming to Angeleyes, that was playing on the car radio, stopped.
You suppose Spencer has fallen asleep as well, until you stole a glimpse at him during a red light to see he was just staring out the window. A far away gaze.
His mind was far. You could feel that. You two enjoy the silence but it's not like that. This is not the kind of silence you want to bask in after a tiring day of work. No, this is different. It comes with the type of things you face at work, the voices in your head that claim they know what's best.
You know that silence. You've drowned in it once.
A gentle breeze caused a few strands to slip out behind his ear. He was letting his hair grow longer again. You liked it, it suited him.
“Hey.”
Your knuckles grazed his cheek softly, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. Your hand lingered at the nape of his neck and he let out a sigh, leaning back in a way that you knew he needed that kind of touch.
Good thing your love language is physical touch.
“You want to talk to me about it?” A whisper.
Spencer refrained from a verbal answer, but he reached up for your hand, lifting it to his lips to place a prolonged kiss which translated to I'm glad to have you.
“Not now,” he said, caressing your palm. Definitely later then. Your communication can be non-verbal sometimes and that's one of the great parts of your relationship. You knew that some days words were hard, so the touch and the eyes fulfilled the void of a voice.
He gave it a delicate squeeze and that's when you realized the light had turned green, so your attention was back to driving.
At some point, you could feel a comforting weight at your right thigh. It was the familiar warmth of Spencer's hand, something that he liked to do whenever you drove. Good thing his love language is physical touch.
“I got her.” He practically leaped out of the vehicle once you parked, walking around the other side to get Eden.
Your asleep child didn't so much as flinch while being picked up. You caught her little arms embracing his neck as you locked the doors of your car, her shoes on your hand and Spencer's satchel on another. He tried to fight you on that but you just ignored him.
“Sleepy head,” you mouth to him as the elevator went up. Eden's big eyelashes fluttered lightly when you kissed the top of her head.
The corner of your husband's lips quirked up, “Just like her mother. Sleeps anywhere.” He said, not breaking eye contact, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Rolling your eyes, you hummed, “Don't know what you're talking about.”
The apartment was quiet, an unusual occurrence at this time of the day. Normally, Eden would be rambling about her day when one of you arrived from work — I learnt about seagulls today and we made a drawing; grandma made cookies!; Teacher Susan read a story about a princess saving her kingdom, I want to be like her someday. Isn't it like what you do, mama? I want to be like you — a range of subjects mixed with her occasional endless energy of a child. Some nights, she wouldn't stop running around until she tired herself — and both of you — off.
Today was different. She was asleep before you even arrived home, it was way before 8 p.m and the apartment was quiet, no toys scattered around, no ink stain on the floor. She was into painting nowadays which is a rather messy hobby for a kid, but you'd indulge your daughter's wishes anytime. She is a kid, she should be messy.
“I love you, bub.” Your ears pick up Spencer's faint voice from the entrance of Eden's bedroom. You perched up at the wall, careful enough to make yourself unknown. Not wanting to disturb the little father-daughter moment. “I'll always be here.”
That was something that didn't need to be said out loud because Spencer showed that every day. He didn't spare love demonstrations regarding you or Eden, he never had. Although you know part of the reason beneath that promise. Some people haunt us forever, even when they are no longer present in our lives. His father still walks somewhere in the corner of his mind, no matter how many times you tell him that he is not him.
“Is the whole bathroom drenched or...?”
Spencer chuckled, seeking for your hand to pull you closer as you stride to your bedroom.
“It wouldn't be Eden if she didn't make an entire spectacle during bath time.” He said. “But I cleaned it up, so don't worry.”
“That's true.” You eye his soaked shirt attempting to contain a smile. “Guess you already took your shower?”
“You're so funny,” Spencer murmurs dryly.
“Yeah, well,” you shrug nonchalantly, slowly encircling your arms around his neck. “Wasn't that why you married me? Or was it for my good looks? Nah, it was definitely my terrific sense of humour, wasn't it?” A peck on his lips. “You can admit it. I won't be mad.”
“Ego the size of a lake, that one.” He mumbles, burying his face in the croak of your neck and practically locked you in his hold.
You started to message on his shoulders to ease whatever felt heavy in his chest. At least, until he let you in.
It wasn't until after you both showered separately to finally call it a day and laid down to rest that he broke his silence.
“A little girl died. We couldn't get to her in time.”
Oh, kids.
Now it all made sense.
A shiver went down your spine at the thought.
“Oh, Spencer...” if the tone of your voice translated anything, it was that you understood. His body was entangled to yours when you tried to diminish a bit of his pain by showing that you were there. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” you said into his curls. The moist sensation in your pajamas top let you know he was crying, but you didn't give it a second thought. It was what he needed.
“I could only think of her and I—” he said shakily, suddenly leaning away to cover his face. “Any rational thinking went down the drain.” His croaked out, drying his tears in the harshest way possible. You pulled his hands away from his face, replacing it with your softer touch.
“Spencer.”
“I can't even— even grasp my head around—”
You cut him off, “good. Don't do that. Because it's not real. Spencer,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you so he could focus on something that wasn't the disruptives thoughts in his head. “Eden is here, in the room next to ours, safe and sound.” That seemed to calm him down lightly, but you could see the conflict in his gaze.
“I wasn't fast enough.”
“It was not your fault.”
“You weren't there.”
You sigh, “I don't need to physically be there to know that you, as well as the team, did your best to crack the case, Spencer. As you do in every other case we have.” The hardest part of this job was still the loss that you had to live with. The guilt. The shame that, despite doing your best, you wouldn't be able to save everyone. “As we always do.” Sometimes, you needed some convincing too.
“I know it's hard to believe what I'm saying,” you forehead was touching his and your eyes were shut. “but it's the truth. You have every reason to feel that way, it never gets easy to face what we face every day. But, Spencer. It was not your fault. You did what you could, please trust me on this, okay?” Please, don't blame yourself. You don't deserve it.
“Our little girl is right next door, sleeping with her favourite plushie. Safe. Because we make sure of that every single day.” You know it's not that simple, to not doubt the dangers that run in the world, probably in your street, but you can't live in fear and you don't want your daughter to live in fear either. “And I'm right here. we're not going anywhere.” You won't lose us.
“Yeah,” he croaks out, releasing a batted breath. “Yeah, I know.”
Slipping an arm around your middle to bring you closer was the indication you needed to understand that he was hearing your words. Your husband settled for accepting your warmth for the time being, you were playing with his curls, gently brushing them away from his face.
That's all he needed, really. You. The home and family you have build together. Nothing else.
“You know,” you say, thumb traveling across his jawline until it reached the tip of his nose. “People keep saying she has your nose and I think I'm starting to see it.”
His body shook with laughter, causing his eyes to crinkle slightly.
“Oh, really? You're starting to see it now?”
Your lips curled up at the edges, “Yes.” You lied, poking his ribs, earning a glare. Your smile only widened. “No. The nose is clearly yours.” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
Spencer leaned close enough so he could press his lips to yours.
“She has the outline of your mouth, though.” He tucked a strand behind your ear. “And your eyes.”
Soft padding against the floor pulled you out of your trance and you knew who was at the door before looking through the open space of the door that's been left ajar.
“Is that a ghost that I'm seeing, angel?”
You decided to enter Spencer's playful undertone.
“Mhm. Good question, I think that's definitely a squirrel or something. Look at the red and yellow paws.”
Eden's mismatched socks flashed your eyes in the dim light of your side table lamp. Her soft giggling made you smile instantly.
“What are you doing up, sweetheart?” She curled up to his bare chest as soon as he scooped her up to hold her on his hip. “Mhm?”
She grabbed both of his cheeks, forcing him to lean down so she could say something to him. You observed them with a curious gaze. “It's not a squirrel,” Eden whispered. Spencer's face broke out into a grin, “tell mama it's me.” Spencer nodded and dutifully did as asked.
“Oh!” You exclaimed, acting surprised. “It's you, bub? With these tiny socked feet, I almost didn't recognize.” Eden's shrieks as you pepper her whole face with kisses. “You want to sleep with mommy and daddy tonight?” It's your turn to whisper as if it's a secret, but it's loud enough for Spencer to hear it as well.
Eden nods shyly, resting her head on her dad's shoulder. Her feet wriggling lightly. Who could ever resist those sweet doe eyes?
The three of you then lay down in your bed, Eden engulfed between Spencer and you. Hopefully, she wouldn't kick and turn all night like she commonly did. She was sleeping through the entire night alone in her bedroom, though some nights — like today — she would sneak in to yours.
Just like you expected, the toddler fell into dreamland with your soft chatter about random things you did during the day and what you needed to do during the upcoming week. You cracked a smile at her slight parted lips and wild curls dispersed on your arm which her head was laid on.
“Thank you.”
Your attention drifts from a sleeping Eden to Spencer. His eyes carried their usual light again. They now glinted with a familiar pride rather than the heavy darkness it was drowning in earlier in the evening.
“What for?” Your whole demeanor softened at the way he was looking at you, heart swelling with love.
“This,” he says, eyes falling on Eden. “For this. Her. You.”
You blink, the sudden urge to cry is being hold back by a thread. You don't know how to react.
“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” And he's said that before. When you first confessed and he said he felt the same. In your wedding day. When Eden was born.
“And you are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Spencer.” You manage to whisper beneath the crack in your voice. He lifts his torso to kiss both of the single tears that slipped out of your eyelids, caressing your cheek lovingly. “I love you.”
“I love you too, angel.” His mouth stretches into a soft grin. “And I love the life we have built.”
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taglist: @lilyviolets
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A/N: will never forgive the show for not making this man a dad.
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m4tthewmurd0ck · 4 months
Text
Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader
TBOSAS Vogue Interviews — Rachel + Tom
(next part will be you and Josh’s interview)
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no descriptors other than reader being shorter than tom but i use she / her. click [HERE] for the table of contents for all things tom x actress!reader
for the interviews, rachel and tom are still paired up since they’re the leads, and you’re with josh. sorry hunter hshxhsdi. also in this tbosas has been out for a month so the cast is allowed to talk specific scenes and give “spoilers”
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The first bit of the video shows short clips of some answers, but no context as to what the questions are.
“Oh that’s an easy one, my girlfriend,” Tom can’t help but smile.
Rachel playfully slaps him with the card. “I was going to say her!”
~
“Pepper jack,” Rachel shrugs.
“Maybe… maybe a sharp cheddar?” Tom laughs.
~
Tom sighs, “that was quite a hard scene to film. After each take I’d ask if she was alright at least a couple of times.”
“Honestly the games as a whole, because I missed a lot of the stunt training.”
~
THE INTERVIEW —
“Hi Vogue, I’m Rachel Zegler.”
“And I’m Tom Blyth. Today we’re here to ask each other some questions, rapid fire.”
Rachel shuffles the interview cards around. “Okay first question, what would you say was the most difficult scene to film and why? Ooh I have my answer already.”
“You go first, I’m still thinking,” Tom laughs.
“Well for me, the most difficult scenes physically were honestly… the games as a whole. I missed a lot of the stunt training so to have one of my first scenes be me running like crazy screaming for Jessup, it was pretty intense.”
Tom blushes a little. “Sort of piggy backing off of Rachel’s answer, the hardest physically I’d definitely say my scene with Josh when we’re running out of the arena. The first few takes were stopped fairly quickly because either he or I would trip. But the most difficult emotionally, the scene in the cabin with Coriolanus and Nova May.”
“Aww,” Rachel puts her hand over her heart. “That’s was so cool to watch you both but yeah I can for sure see why it would be difficult. Did you guys rehearse it a lot?”
Tom shakes his head. “Not at all actually. We ran through the lines a few times but as far as acting out the whole scene, not until we were on set and they wanted a run through. And thankfully after the third take they were satisfied. That was quite a hard scene to film. After each take I’d ask if she was alright at least a couple of times.”
Off camera, someone asks “how long have you guys been together?”
“Pretty much since we met,” Tom tries, and fails to hide his smile. “So she and Josh were actually cast on the same day in June of 2022. At that point Rachel and I had already been cast, and the 4 of us, it just so happened that we were all in London for one thing or another and we all went out to dinner that night. Knew I fancied her right away, and I wanna say it wasn’t even a couple of weeks later that I asked her to be my girlfriend. Sorry I know I went off topic. To answer your actual question, almost a year and a half.”
Tom and Rachel chat for a couple of minutes as cameras are moved around to capture different angles.
“Next question, something a lot more lighthearted. If you were a cheese, what—”
“Pepper jack,” Rachel shrugs, not elaborating.
Tom bursts out laughing. “You had that answer ready awfully quick.”
“What can I say, I’m a cheese girly.”
“I guess that’s my go. Pepper jack is a good answer by the way. I’ll go cheddar. Maybe… maybe a sharp cheddar?”
Rachel taps her chin as if considering what Tom just said. “Yeah, I could see sharp cheddar. Okay guys sorry they’re motioning behind cameras that we have to speed it up. This is rapid fire and we’ve only answered two questions, sorry!”
“Sorry guys! Okay okay next question. Who is your favorite person to run lines with? Oh that’s an easy one, my girlfriend.”
“I was gonna say her!” Rachel faces the camera. “You guys, she’s seriously the best person for that. She memorizes lines sooo fast. By the end she won’t need a script to help you and she’ll be able to still correct you if you mess up!”
“What — oh wait I’ve already asked that question,” Tom flips through the cards, “okay here we go. If you could play any other character in the film, who would you play?”
Rachel claps and points at Tom. “We were just talking about this! I’d either want to play your character because I think it would be so fun to kind of switch to the villain. Or Nova May because hello she’s a badass.”
“Do you know what, and I swear I’m not making this up, my answers are the same as yours. either Nova May because I feel like she’s the opposite of Coriolanus in a way. Or Lucy Gray because I love that even after the games, she’s stayed true to who she is and she doesn’t let Coriolanus corrupt her.”
Rachel and Tom chat again as cameras and lights are moved around. They each do 2 questions.
“Okay we’ve each got one more question. Ooh this one’s fun! You’re stuck on a deserted island for a month and can have five things with you, what do you bring? And it says people don’t count,” Rachel thinks for a moment, “you go first because I need to give this some real thought.”
“No people, okay let’s see… my phone, one of those solar power generators so I could plug things in, phone charger, a book, and mini fridge. I’m sure I could cook some things up and be able to save them for later.”
Rachel nods in approval. “I am going to copy your first three things because I think I’d go crazy not being able to at least write out my thoughts in my notes app or something, or record what’s happening on my camera. But for my last two things, a guitar now that I can play, and… oh crap this is harder than I thought. And… a surfboard! If you’re stuck on an island that’s the perfect time to pick up a new hobby.”
“I think we’re finally getting the hang of this, of course right at the end. Oh I have the last question that’s right. Let’s see… what three characters from other shows or films do you think would do well in the Hunger Games?”
“I love that question!” Rachel nearly falls out of her chair. “Definitely someone from Game of Thrones — ooh or House of the Dragon! You know what, Juliette would do really good. A bow and arrow can take you really far in the games and that’s her go-to weapon.”
Tom smiles and blushes once again at the mention of his girlfriend, or at least the character she plays.
Rachel thinks about her last two answers. “Joel Miller from The Last of Us, and Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds.”
“Why Spencer?”
“He’s a literal genius. I bet he’d be able to rig a bunch of traps that no one would suspect and he’d be able to eliminate most of the other tributes without any physical contact.”
“Ahh I didn’t think of that. Hmm also from House of the Dragon, Aemond Targaryen. He’s quite ruthless isn’t he, he’d have no problem getting rid of the other tributes. And also Clint Barton, like you said because a bow and arrow is a really good weapon to have. Also… Uhtred Ragnarsson from The Last Kingdom.”
Someone behind the camera says it’s time to wrap it up.
Tom smiles at the camera, “thank you so much for having us.”
“We hope you enjoyed watching, bye!”
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TOM BLYTH x ACTRESS!READER TAGLIST —
@callsignwidow | @spencerstits | @coconut-dreamz | @daenerysqueenofhearts
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The angelic peeps (I don’t mind who) with a sinner reader who had been mistaken as angel because of their form. Just them getting shooed inside heaven and ends up being like 👁️👄👁️????
Hell is forever! And Heaven... is also forever?
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Adam
Now, when you'd appeared, you had no idea where you were, or what the actual fuck was happening.
So when you witnessed an angelic figure slashing down some creepy little creature, you naturally freaked out.
When you were approached by an angel, if that angel shopped at forever 21.
The Goth angels having their weapons drawn you'd freeze, the two freezing as they stared at you.
"The Hell are you doing here?" One would as with a disnctly feminine tone.
You, completely off guard, would blurt out. "I'mmm... lost?" You speak, feeling like you were playing the greatest gamble of your life.
The two would look at each other for several moments before one would sigh. "Great, a normie?"
"We sure they're a Winner?" The second Angel spoke.
"Mmmm." The second hummed. "You ever seen a Sinner look as good as them?"
The second placed a hand to her chin. "... Nah."
The first groaned, rubbing her oddly yellow Gray face. "If this gets out, this is gonna be a mountain of paperwork."
"Uhhh, we don't have paperwork." The other hummed, raising a brow.
"Yeah well, if Adam finds out about this he'll make us sign autographs for him for the next 3 weeks."
"I don't know why he does that, he's the only one that uses them."
As the two grumbled between each other, you just stood there, waiting and unsure of what to do as the two bitched back and forth.
After a while more of this, they'd snap to you.
"Alright, fine, come on then." The angel grumbled, walking over to you.
You didn't get to react before she suddenly grabbed you, flying up into the air and scaring the crap out of you. It took a minute but they flew you through the massive hole in the sky.
She placed you on the cushy cloud like road, the Angel hushing you as she snuck you past St. Peter, popping open the gate and shoving you inside.
"Look, you didn't see anything. I didnt see you. You didnt see us. Got it!?" She asked coldly.
You just nodded back, the woman glaring at you before shutting the gate, leaving you... somewhere.
That answer was quickly, well, answered, as turning around you found yourself in... Heaven.
Oh, well that's...
Wait?
HEAVEN!?
Did you just... luck your way into heaven?
Apparently you did as you were quickly welcomed into heaven, the populous eagerly welcoming you.
And well... it was Heaven!
Everything was fun and carefree and there was So. Much. Singing!
It'd be when you attended a rock show, you eagerly watching as Adam himself played lead, the whole thing incredible.
Youd somehow end up behind the scenes after the show, a variety of virtue Winners all flaunting over the Band members, especially Adam, the man surrounded by Winners.
Of course, your appearance instantly caught his attention, the man perking right up and the next thing you knew the man was all over you, the man boldly chatting you up.
Now, Adam was... well, he was a prick, but he had a charm to him when he w a s trying to be charming, the man a mix of complements and criticisms, the man always sure to play himself up.
Now, look, your not entirely proud, nor ashamed, but well... you fucked.
And admittedly... it was pretty good. Adam was a dick but, well, he knew how to use his... mostly.
And that's how you fucked the first man.
Now, you have no doubt his initial interest was all about your physical appearance, after all, your body had been what got you into heaven in the first place.
Now you'd think after that first night you'd never see the Man again, expecting to be another one of his 'conquests', before he moved along on.
Okay, so yeah, you had his number.
And yeah, he regularly called you up for a booty call.
But its not like you totally hung out after said booty calls. Eating takeout and casually chatting.
Or just laying on his belly as you scrolled your respective phones, neither of you saying anything as you just chilled.
And you totally didn't perk right up when you saw his caller ID, greeting him as 'dickmaster', the two of you flirting hard before you'd end up at his place.
And sure, you had a drawer at his place, and a pillow, not to mention a bathrobe.
...
...
...
Well fuck.
Okay, yeah, so you were, uh, 'going steady', not that the first man would admit as much, but yeah, things were, well, fun.
Sure Adam could be a dick, but with some strick words, and a smack across the face, the man was surprisingly apologetic. Like, he was still a dick, and an ardent one at that, but behind closed doors he was amazingly simple, the man quite chill as you enjoyed each other's company.
Now, you'd always kept your status as a sinner hidden, I mean, it's not like anyone suspected you, how could a sinner end up in heaven, am I right?
But you were in Hell, and well, he wasn't super open about it, but it was clear Adam detested the Sinners, the man proudly speaking on how much he despised them.
Your relationship would develope on for several months before he noticed something off with you.
"Where's your Halo?" He'd ask so causally after you'd both chewed down on some Chinese food.
You'd freeze, mind rushing as you thought up a valid excuse, going over the several you'd made up in a paranoid stupor.
"It... uh, it's kinda ugly, I keep it stored away."
The man stared at you for several minutes, before shrugging, the two of you going right back to how you were.
And so, you went on for several more months like this, growing even closer, spending a great amount of time with each other.
It'd be one day as the man goes on and on about 'filthy sinners' you unsure how to react, as on one hand you kinda were a sinner, but on the other you could go the rest of eternity without ever broaching the subject.
But well, why make things easy.
So you brought it up, asking him what he really though.
Unsurprisingly, the man had not a kind word about them, so you asked cooly what if you were a sinner?
Of course, you asked it in a flirty tone, the two of you quickly getting playful.
He'd tell you how he'd have to 'punish' you, giving you his 'righteous sword', the two of you having some especially nasty sex.
Your life was good, you and Adam got closer and closer, to the point you ended up moving in with him.
Everything was perfect... and then it wasn't.
You'd been found out. Over something so simple too.
Your blood.
You'd cut your finger.
You bled.
Their blood was gold.
Yours wasn't.
It hadn't come up, but one of the seraphim noticed, and... well.
The courtroom was something.
Adam losing his shit over this whole thing, while you just kept quiet.
Eventually you'd confess, telling them how you'd been ushered in during an extermination, you honestly not even sure where you were supposed to be.
You'd apologise to Adam, in tears as you told him you loved him, and that you never meant to cause any of this.
Now, it wasn't just a one sided argument, Adam as well as many of your friends came to your defence, many pointing out how you'd fit right in in heaven for ages, and now all of a sudden it was an issue?
That would certainly cause some issue amongst Heavens leadership.
Adam was especially vocal, saying he hated Sinners more than anybody but you clearly weren't like the other scum that get spit out into Hell, you were... special.
Now, there's 2 ways this could go.
1. Heaven simply doesn't care, expelling you from Heaven leaving your friends and Adam to fight for you. I doubt Adam would fall for you, but he'd certainly keep fighting for you, ironically, in this timeline, Adam would 100% be on Charlie's side. Man absolutely all for redemption.
Especially if you joined the hotel, you kinda being proof Sinners could live in heaven.
It'd be quite the star crossed lovers situation, the both of you from different worlds, doing your absolute best to be reunited.
Or 2. You'd be put under 'house arrest', you being restricted to a very limit area, I.e. Adams apartment, the two of you under guard most hours of the day while they 'figured things out'.
And youd basically spend all your time with Adam, the two of you growing even closer, and again, he'd be on Charlie's side this time around, man eager not so much to work with Hell, but to see if there was a way to get you in heaven permanently, he'd bloody well fight for it.
Emily
Showing up to heaven, you'd quite literally run into her, meeting Emily, the young Seraphim eager and always happy to meet a new resident of heaven.
Especially one as appealing to the eyes as you were.
You'd have some fun moments, the girl eagerly showing you around.
Funnily enough, that'd keep happening.
You'd find her randomly, or she'd find you, the two of you bumping into each other often as she showed somebody around.
And so, you'd tag along, the two of you often showing new residents the ins and outs of heaven. You gaining quite a large pool of friends for your efforts.
The two of you would steadily grow closer through this, spending lots of time together, you'd developed a fairly flirty relationship, as while she was undoubtedly innocent and pure, she wasn't above some playful flirting, though she always kept it wholesomely chaste.
You'd spend more and more time together,
Spending long periods together, you'd grow closer and closer, you and Emily developing quite the... ship.
I say 'ship' cause it wasn't quite a friendship, nor a relationship. You were in a limbo between the two.
It'd be one day after you stood up for her with a particularly rude arrival, the man seemingly loosing his mind.
Not all too odd. People had very different reactions to finding out they're dead.
But it'd be as you helped her too her feet, gently cupping her face that you'd ask her out on a date. Like, a date-date, kinda date.
And with that adorable blush of hers, she'd agree.
It was a simple affair.
You'd take her to dinner, a simple, humble dinner. Nothing crazy or over the top, just an intimate little thing.
Just like your relationship.
And after walking her home, you started dating with a warm kiss, and not much really changed.
You still spent all day together, showing arrivals around and just having fun.
But now~ you got to kiss. And you had date nights. Your relationship and romance only growing stronger by the day.
You'd actually end up telling Emily about you being a sinner.
It'd be something you wanted to tell her for ages, you telling her about everything.
How you were in Hell, and ended up in heaven, and you'd been there for so long you honestly didn't know where you belonged.
Emily of course was sooooo supportive, the woman promising to keep your secret, swearing to protect you.
You'd honestly live a very happy life with her, the two of you happy with just each other, even as you hid your past, constantly paranoid somebody would realise it one day.
Now there's kind of two ways this could go.
The first; your found out and Emily gets exposed for hiding you. A very serious action, though teeechically not illegal as it'd never been done before.
But still, knowingly hiding a sinner was a serious offence.
So, it could go two ways, either heaven realises that you aren't this evil monster, likely confining you to your home, monitoring you at all hours, likely only letting Emily visit.
It'd be tough, but upon Pentious' redemption the question of you being opened again, Emily being even more eager this time round.
Or they outright exile you, Emily potentially getting into trouble due to it.
Regardless of what happened, you and Emily would love each other, through thick and thin.
Lute
NOW!
I think we all know Lutes opinion on Sinners, an opinion she'd make sure you knew.And while it was a major insecurity for you, terrified she'd find out.
Of course, Lutes wouldn't believe it possible, you being a sinner. You were waaaaay to attractive to be some filthy Sinner.
Yet outside of that, you had such a passionate romance, the two of you doing many, MANY unholy deeds in the bedroom.
Your romance was... let's say physical.
Lute was a dominant individual, forced to be when dealing with Adam most days, as such, easily took charge of most situations.
Now, you'd keep your past hidden, naturally, not wanting to destroy your relationship.
The purges would be... a contentious point. The girl no doubt telling you, either directly or indirectly, and while she thought little of it, it would shake you, knowing the person you loved relished killing souls so avidly.
Lute... well, she'd certainly have a reaction to this.
Having the person she loved challenge her beliefs would leave her a little off guard, the woman forced to really reassess her beliefs.
Now, I don't see her genuinely changing those beliefs entirely, but I could see her toning them down, the woman maybe even a little compassionate to their plight.
Now... there's a reasonable chance Lute would figure out what you were, despite your good looks, the woman has first hand experience with Sinners, so she'd know far better then most on what a sinner looks like.
But she also wouldn't care too much to pay attention to what makes a sinner a 'sinner'.
But... well, it'd come out eventually.
Likely you telling her, confessing to her that your not sure if your supposed to be in Heaven or Hell, Lute completely caught off guard.
She'd likely outright ignore it, shrugging it off, believing it all a misunderstanding. And if you pushed the subject she'd shut you down, telling you not to talk about it.
But it'd be as you held her to your chest, the woman crying as she sat in your lap, arm missing.
You'd tell her your sorry, that you love her, but you were a sinner, and that you understood if she despised you, but you couldn't live a lie anymore.
And so, after caring for her, ensuring her arm was cared for, you'd turn yourself in
Ironically just as Pentious was reincarnated and well, the next step would be on Lute.
Hey y'all, I wanna thank you all for 4 THOUSAND FOLLOWERS!!! I am so honoured so many have deemed me good enough to follow.
(I do want to apologise for taking so long, I've been dealing with a tremendous amount of personal issues and haven't had much time for writing.)
But seriously, I wanna thank every last one of you for being here and supporting me. I love every last one of you and I hope my content has helped at least one of you feel better.
P.s. I would have done more angelic character, and might in the future, but I was drawing a blank and wanted to get this out asap.
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uch3na · 3 months
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𝙛𝙪𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙙
| pairing - jann mardenborough x afab reader
| warnings - smut, cursing, jann taking out his anger on you??? mdom, blowjob, doggy, creampie (wrap it b4 u tap it chat), a bit of a make out sesh before the actual smut, slight aftercare
| synopsis - jann comes home after losing a race, and you make him feel better
| a/n - yo this cut is insane… shoutout to my barber dawg. anotha 1 for @ludicdoll xx. (i was thinking of this song the whole time while writing)
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you were sitting on you and jann’s shared bed in a (his) t-shirt and some underwear reading when he suddenly walked stormed into the house. you could hear the door slam and his keys hit the coffee table by the TV.
when he walks into the bedroom he instantly walks over to the bottom of the bed and takes off his shoes. once they’re off he stands back up to leave to go to the bathroom. you immediately know why he’s mad; he had a race earlier today. you sadly couldn’t made it due to work but could have watched it on the TV, and you ended up watching him lose. but he wouldn’t get mad at that.
would he?
“jann?” you call out to him from the room. you slowly climb out of the bed and walk up to the closed bathroom door. you can hear the sink water running but jann is still silent. when you reach to open the bathroom door you freeze a bit at first. you think you should just leave him alone, but you just wanna make sure that he’s okay.
you open the door to find him drying off his face with a towel. when he looks up into the mirror his eyes are boring into yours. “wanna talk about what happened at the race?” you finally speak out after a few moments of stillness.
you swear you see his eyes go wide just the slightest bit. he turns around and you think he’s gonna finally talk to you but he just brushes right past.
you follow him out of the bathroom into the living room. when you get close enough you reach out to grab his arm. he turns around pretty quickly but not enough to make you flinch. when he finally looks at you, you walk up closer to him, causing him to look down at you with those eyes.
the hand that is on his arm moves to his hand instead, rubbing circles on the back of it with your thumb. “tell me about what happened today.” you say while reaching up to grab his one hand with the both of yours.
jann brings his hand up to pinch his nose bridge and let out a sigh that leads into a groan.
“it’s stupid.” he says, a slight annoyance in his voice. you freeze again. shit. is that why he’s mad? he notices how you don’t say anything, and how your eyebrows furrow slightly. he also notices how your thumb stops moving on his hand. he lets out another sigh as he removes his hand from the bridge of his nose and uses it to move your hair out of your face. “i-it’s nothing, really… it’s not that important.”
you remove your hand from his when he utters those last few words. what does he mean ‘not that important’? does he not think i care about his races?
“‘not that important’ jann? what the fuck do you mean it’s not that important?” you speak out quickly.
he chuckles lightly and looks down at the floor with a shitty smirk on his face. “what else would i mean? it’s a dumb reason to be mad about. the whole crew agreed it was.” he says while reaching up to rub his eyes. he obviously is stressed from the race and just wants to relieve himself.
you reach up to his face with one of your hands and cup his cheek. he leans into your hand and takes one of his hands and puts it on top of yours. and then you guys just sat there. you loved little moments like these. where he used you to calm down, like you knew you were his safe place. your hand moves a little more towards the back of his head, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck to calm him down some more.
but then he lets out a deep exhale and when he opens his eyes he says; “i need you so bad…”
his words catch you a bit off guard but you almost immediately pull him down by the back of his neck to connect your lips with his. he lets out a soft moan of relief when he finally feels the plush of your soft lips against his. his hands go down to your hips almost instinctively to grab at your hips with his large hands. he pulls you into him, to make sure you feel his dick getting harder against your stomach.
jann slowly slips his tongue into your mouth and uses one of his hands to reach behind your head and grip your hair into a ponytail. he tilted your head back to be able to have access to your neck and jawline, leaving little kisses and licks on the skin.
he was sucking tiny hickeys into your neck, then soothing the bruises with his tongue right after.
your soft moans and whimpers at the pleasure cause him to twitch in his pants. jann was never really the type to just grab at you like that but he was just so fucking pent up right now. plus he knew if you didn’t like it, you would have made him stop by now. when he pulled away to take off his jacket you let out a whine from the loss of contact, but less than 5 seconds later his mouth was back on yours.
soon enough he carried you to the bed and sat you on his lap, groping your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. when you pulled away from his lips you could see a look of confusion mixed with lust on his face. but as soon as he saw you climbing off his lap onto your knees in front of him, his confusion turned into a more relaxed expression.
when you got to his pants you could already tell he was painfully hard just by looking at the tent in his pants. you cupped his clothed dick in your hand, rubbing it to give him a bit of relief but soon enough he got impatient. jann grabbed your chin to make you look up at him. “cmon… enough w the teasing. be good f’me baby.”
its almost like a trance. right after he utters those words, your fingers nimbly began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly. when you pull his pants down you can see a stain of precum on his underwear. you put your hand in his boxers, causing him to hiss out suddenly from the way your hand felt around him. god. he felt like he was gonna come undone already.
you look up at him with full eye contact as you slowly pull his hard cock out of his underwear fully. his eyes are low and his mouth is slightly parted, tiny groans escaping him. when you take him into your mouth he chokes out a moan and instantly reaches up to grab your hair in a fist. jann got lost in a daze watching you suck him off. he always thought you looked so pretty with your lips around his dick.
soon enough, he started to pant out and his groans began to get louder as you bobbed your head up and down on him. then all of a sudden he lifted your head up — grabbing you by the chin to bring you into a kiss. you two were sloppily eating at each others faces. almost like starved animals.
you were already soaked from everything that was happening so when jann pulled you into arms again just to flip you onto your hands and knees he could see the wet patch that stained your panties. “so fuckin’ wet… so damn greedy — just want me to fill this pretty pussy don’t you?” he leans down behind you to whisper in your ear.
jann reaches down between the both of you to pull your underwear to the side, revealing your sopping wet cunt to him. he then fisted his cock, stroking it a few times before lining himself up with your slick entrance. when he begins to push in inch by inch you swear you begin to tear up with how big and thick he is.
he was fully nestled inside of your warmth when he reached up to grab a fistful of your hair and setting his pace. jann’s hips started smacking against the plush of your ass with each thrust.
“jann… ple—ase,“ you whimper out.
“sh- shh sweetheart… don’t talk just lemme hear those little noises you make.” he said as he picked up the pace of each thrust. he was going fast and deep. he moved his hand from your hair and used it to grab your face, thick fingers digging into your soft cheeks.
he started peppering tiny, cute kisses across your face. he was doing such a sweet thing while breaking you.
when jann looked down between the both of you, he swore he was in heaven. he could see where he was sliding in and out of you perfectly and the white ring you left around his pretty cock. it was like a mark you left on him to show that he was yours and you were his.
you could feel his pattern faltering as his hips began to stutter. his groans turned into moans and they went higher in pitch each time your hips smacked back onto his. he leaned down to plant kisses along the small of your back as your voice began to crack from how loud you’ve been. “oh- oh fuck — im gonna cu-“ is all you hear before you can feel jann spill into you.
soon enough after, you let out a loud whine as you feel yourself cum on his cock.
the room smells like sex and the air is hot and heavy. the only thing you can hear is the sound of both of you panting, trying to catch your breath. when jann pulls out of your warmth, he hisses sharply though his teeth. he was still kissing from your neck to your jawline all the way down to your lower back.
a little while later, jann had cleaned the both of you up and gotten some new clothes for you to wear to bed. you were on top of him with your face buried in his neck while his hands were tangled in your hair. every so often he would lean down to plant a kiss onto your lips or cheek. his large hand went underneath your (his) shirt to trace small shapes on your back.
“was i too much?” he finally says to break the silence.
you stirred a bit in the position you were in but he could feel you shake your head ‘no.’ jann lets out a dry laugh at the way you responded to him. he reaches up with his free hand to grab your chin and gives you a sensual kiss on the lips.
“thank you for helping me love…”
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strawberrystepmom · 2 months
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gojo x f!reader. reader and gojo are married, reader is wearing heels and earrings. a little bitty love note for my valentine. wc 1.3k | divider thanks to cafekitsune 💓
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Tuesday nights have long been decreed to be designated date nights in the Gojo household.
Bearing in mind how busy the two of you tend to be, this standing appointment doesn’t always work out the way it was planned when you started the tradition and there have been several occasions where you and Satoru have had “dates” in the form of sharing meals from miles away via video chat but tonight, he is all yours. In the flesh, a day ahead of what is widely viewed as a romantic holiday, and wearing your favorite dress shirt with a smirk across his face.
“So, I’ve been thinkin’.” He announces from across your walk-in closet, fastening the buttons on either side of his wrists and walking in your direction. Raising your eyebrows while you fasten in your favorite pair of earrings, you hum at him, concealing a smile to the best of your ability.
“That can be a dangerous thing.”
Your husband chuckles and joins your side, leaning down to press his face against yours. He steals a glance at your reflections in the small mirror atop your standing jewelry box and puckers his lips, turning his head enough that he can kiss you before suggesting what is on his mind.
“Remember how we used to pretend to get engaged to get free dessert?”
Snorting, you nod, attempting to secure the back of your earring onto the post keeping it in your lobe. Satoru grabs the small piece of metal from you and takes over, leaning down as close as he can to you to get the job done.
“I recall.”
Of course you remember all of the times he pulled a fake ring out of his pocket for attention, applause, and a celebratory slice of cake he didn’t have to purchase despite absolutely being able to afford it. The first time you were mortified, hot cheeked and taken aback by the possibility he may have actually been proposing to you, but each time it became easier to react the way that would make people happiest for you. Keeping the absolute lack of romance in his actual proposal in mind, you’ve always held these fake ones close to your heart.
It feels like he spent years proposing to you culminating in the real thing - how romantic is that? Both of you insist that you aren’t romantics yet the way you love each other speaks for itself.
“Let’s do it again.”
“Oh you’re dastardly,” you tease with a half smile, your palms smoothing out any wrinkles in his dress shirt while fiddling with the buttons keeping it closed. “You really want to?”
“Duh, it’ll be fun.”
Despite yourself, you laugh at your husband’s antics and remove your palms from his chest to slip your ring off. Your lower lip dips out in a pout with each inch the golden band moves and Satoru’s heart squeezes in his chest watching it. Maybe he shouldn’t have suggested such a silly stunt, no matter the laughs that would be shared over it later.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
Nodding, you grab his hand and face his palm upward, depositing your band in the smooth center of it, followed by the engagement ring you wear stacked with it. Your left finger is bare for the first time in years and you wiggle it with a giggle, shoving it upward in the direction of his face.
“For old times sake.”
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It’s a very good thing the two of you picked a restaurant that deviates from your usual plans otherwise this entire little plot would fail spectacularly. Tadashi, the chef at your favorite place close to your home, would have spotted the two of you in a second and given you a wry smile and tutted at your dishonesty.
“Are you sure this is gonna work? We seem pretty, I dunno…married?” You question everything happening right now, unexpectedly feeling a little insecure about lying. The click of your heels on the sidewalk perfectly mingles with Satoru’s footsteps that he intentionally shortens when the two of you are together. There are so many subtleties that will give you away including the mere fact you are obsessively in love with each other and fail to hide it.
Your husband simply chuckles and shakes his head.
“Hopefully they’re giving out the good desserts tonight,” your husband mutters while weaving his fingers in between yours and swinging your joined hands between your bodies. He’s so effortlessly boyish sometimes you want to be annoyed but find it difficult to be when the stars are twinkling just right and the cool air nipping at his cheeks makes them a rosy pink.
If you loved him less, you’d be more frustrated. Adoration is a balm that soothes most of your frustration with him at any given time so you’re happily preparing to go along with all of this, smiling at the hostess standing at the front of the restaurant when you enter.
“Two for Gojo,” he proudly states to the woman who whisks the two of you off toward your reserved table. You smile at her the entire time but you notice her smile dim after she catches sight of your joined hands. With a nod, she moves so you can slide into your chair and he does the same and you hum to yourself.
“That was weird, right?”
Satoru just shrugs and you roll your eyes, picking up the menu and scanning over it once. Your waiter arrives with a polite half bow and immediately, your husband’s face lights up. It’s too late to tell him to stop whatever he’s planning now, his right hand dipping under the table to fish around in his pocket for your engagement ring.
“Are we celebrating anything tonight?”
The server’s words immediately make you panic and your eyes widen when Satoru pushes his chair out and stands, presenting a very familiar ring in his palm. Taking a deep breath, you gasp and do your best to feign shock and surprise, noticing the same horrified look on the server’s face when he glances at Gojo’s hands.
“Yes, we are. We are getting married!”
Glancing at his left hand, you immediately notice what the shock is about. Rather than fuss at him you rush to cover your mouth with your right hand and nod rapidly as though you are totally taken aback. Holding your left hand out, he slips your ring back onto its home finger. He beams at you with every movement, practically bursting with joy, and seats him back at the table across from you.
“You forgot to take your ring off,” you whisper-hiss out of the side of your mouth and your husband looks down at his left hand that grips the edge of the dinner table. Sure as anything, the golden band you slipped on the digit years ago glistens under the low restaurant lighting and you fight the urge to giggle and blow the entire operation wide open. The clearly uncomfortable server bows his head at each of you, filling your empty water glasses for the sake of having something to do, before scurrying away with his head pointed firmly toward the ground.
“He probably thinks I’m your mistress now.”
Satoru shrugs in response, tilting his head to the side.
“You are my wife, my mistress, and the love of my life, what can I say? The plan worked perfectly if he believed it.”
Rolling your eyes, you reach across the table and run your thumb over his fingers and the gold band adorning his ring finger.
“You’re such a romantic.”
He smirks and wraps your hand in his.
“But I’m your romantic.”
The two of you are so lost in your own little world you don’t realize the server and hostess off to the side discussing the married man proposing to another woman, gesturing wildly at each other. Fake proposal aside, you are excited to have an evening to enjoy with the man who shakes your world up at every opportunity and he glances at the menu for a scant moment before turning to look up at you, blue eyes narrowed.
“Do you think they’ll still give us dessert?”
Laughing, you shrug and squeeze his hand.
“I think we should probably plan on just buying one this time.”
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scatteredskittless · 2 months
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hello!! i saw you wanted requests and I was wondering if you would be willing to write some platonic headcanons for the Hazbin Hotel crew with a reader who has chronic pain. (i totally get if you don't want to) thank you so much and I'm excited to see what you write in the future 😺
Hazbin Hotel Crew x Chronic pain having! GN! Reader
A/n: tysm for the request !! This is my first time writing something like this so I hope it’s okay :3 (if there’s anything I got wrong, please correct me)
Warnings: Mentions of chronic pain and disability (but like.. that’s pretty obvious lol)
Fluff✔️ Comfort✔️ Angst❌ Smut❌
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‧₊˚✧ Alastor ✧˚₊‧
📻𖤐 After a while of Alastor observing you, as he does with most, he’d notice your body language and think the way you acted was a bit odd…
📻𖤐 Not in a bad way, he just didn’t understand at first why you sometimes visibly look like you were in pain or even just hobbling around to get somewhere
📻𖤐 it definitely raised his brow…
📻𖤐 Before actually approaching you and asking you about it, I’d like to think he made one of the egg boiz spy on you like he did in that one episode 😭😭
📻𖤐 I don’t know what he was expecting though. The only somewhat valuable piece of information he gathered from what the little talking egg had told him was that it saw you taking pain medication. Which did not narrow it down at all and not much of his curiosity had been quenched quite yet..
📻𖤐 So, one peaceful and early morning in the hotel, he decided it’d be best to just ask you about it.
📻𖤐 “My dear, are you feeling alright? You look to be quite discomforted…?” He’d ask casually as he took a sip from his coffee mug, one brow raised and his eyes fixed on yours, pretending like he hadn’t noticed this before today.
📻𖤐 After a chat, he was informed you had something called “chronic pain”. He asked a few questions, nodding when he got the answers and once he was satisfied, he walked off back to his quarters in the hotel.
📻𖤐 After all, he had so much research to do.
📻𖤐 Adding onto that last once I do feel as though Alastor would do more research on it when you decided to tell him about your condition.
📻𖤐 Mostly for his own benefit of learning something new since he hadn’t heard of this before… but it came in handy if you ever needed a bit of a helping hand.
📻𖤐 Like, if you happened to have a flare up or just a particularly bad day he’d sit with you and made sure you rested up.
📻𖤐 He wouldn’t verbally express it but he did take pity on you. How unfortunate you were in constant agony.
📻𖤐 He is a sadistic little fuck though so he’d probably find it mildly entertaining or at the very least fascinating to see what’d make you tick or was a challenge for you
📻𖤐 Although he’d try to be careful not to push you too much.
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‧₊˚✧ Angel Dust ✧˚₊‧
🕸️ᥫ᭡ We all know Angel Dust doesn’t have much of a filter so it wouldn’t take him long to ask you why you could barely stand upright for too long or look like you’re genuinely struggling all the time.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ In fact, he’s more perceptive than people would like to think he is. He noticed it shortly after you two had met.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ He’d probably come off a bit strong, saying something along the lines of “toots? Ya alright over there? Ya don’t look so uhhh.. you don’t look too hot.” As he gave you a one over.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ You could tell he wasn’t trying to be insulting to you though, he was just concerned and wanted to know what was troubling you. It showed ever so slightly on the spiders face.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Once you explained to Angel your condition he felt bad. Like, huh? Whatdoya mean you sometimes have trouble even getting outta bed in the morning because of how much pain you’re in?? Sometimes you neglect your own basic needs because you’re in constant pain?
🕸️ᥫ᭡ As he tired to wrap his head around the thought, he’d ask if there’s anything he could do to help. Of course though, there wasn’t much he could do.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ From that day on, Angel would try to make things at least a little easier for you. You had earned the title of his friend, after all. Why would he let his friend suffer alone?
🕸️ᥫ᭡ He loves to cook and is pretty good at it so expect a few homemade meals on him at least a few times <3
🕸️ᥫ᭡ If you ever had a flare up you better fucking believe he’d sit there with you and just talk. He rambles like an old man lol
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Also 100% has movie nights with you with both of you guys’ favourite snacks.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Oh and of course his pig Fat Nuggets would be joining you two
🕸️ᥫ᭡ And thankfully the little guy adores you. Which gains some points with Angel
🕸️ᥫ᭡ The piggy would crawl into your lap if you were up for it. He’s pretty light and his oinks and squeals are bound to make you crack a smile
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Angel is no stranger to feeling pain, so he knows how much it sucks.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ That’s why I believe he’d be one of the best people to tell. You’re his friend and wants to make sure you’re okay as possible.
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‧₊˚✧ Husker ✧˚₊‧
🍺🃁 Husker, much like Angel, would notice almost immediately that something was up with you…
🍺🃁 At first Husk couldn’t place it. He just knew that he didn’t often see you standing up straight for long periods of time and that you looked like you were constantly unwell.
🍺🃁 Was it just bad migraines? He’s never really seen you drunk before so it’s not like it could be really bad hangovers.
🍺🃁 Plus, this has been going on since you arrived here so that seemed highly unlikely.
🍺🃁 Husk was the type of guy to keep it to himself though. If it didn’t concern him, why bother saying anything about it?
🍺🃁 One day though, you sat yourself down at the bar and asked for some water. This time however, you looked worse than usual, practically doubled over as you stared down at the bar.
🍺🃁 Even though Husk usually kept his mouth shut.. he couldn’t help but ask if you had a headache or something and if you needed some migraine medication.
🍺🃁 He wasn’t heartless.
🍺🃁 When you shook your head no slowly and told him you were just having a “flare up” he asked what you meant to which you gave a brief explanation of the condition you have.
🍺🃁 Suddenly, it all made sense. That’s why you looked like you were constantly in pain. It’s because you were.
🍺🃁 He slid you the ice cold water gently and observed you for a few moments before going back to wiping the glasses as he spoke to you.
🍺🃁 “If you need something don’t be afraid to ask for it.” He’d say, his deep voice trying to be as comforting as it can while also maintaining somewhat of a nonchalant tone.
🍺🃁 Then, after that, it became routine for you to sit at the bar with him.
🍺🃁 He definitely wasn’t complaining. It was nice getting to know you and since you had a place to just sit and rest, he got to see you more often.
🍺🃁 you swiftly became good friends with him and he was pretty helpful when it came to your condition.
🍺🃁 he’d do his best to check up on you often :)
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‧₊˚✧ Vaggie ✧˚₊‧
🗡️☪︎ Vaggie heard about your chronic pain from Charlie so there wouldn’t be a need to tell her about it lol
🗡️☪︎ I have a feeling she’d be a little awkward with attempting to help you out…
🗡️☪︎ Like it’s not like she can really make you feel better so it’s a bit of a struggle for her..
🗡️☪︎ But she does try her best though because she cares about you. You’re her friend.
🗡️☪︎ After a few motivational words from Charlie she’s good to go, attempting to comfort you.
🗡️☪︎ I have a feeling she’d try to help by grabbing you stuff you wanted or needed and chatting with you.
🗡️☪︎ She’s actually quite fun to converse with, she’s pretty sweet when she wants to be and can hold good conversations :))
🗡️☪︎ She’s a good listener so if you wanted to vent or just had something on your mind, she’d listen.
🗡️☪︎ During flareups, Vaggie would just stay by your side and wait it out with you, if you needed anything, she’d be on it and would be back pretty fucking quickly too 💀
🗡️☪︎ Would put a random show on if you wanted a distraction and might let you rest your head on her shoulder if you so desired
🗡️☪︎ I can’t think of much else for her other than the fact she’d try her best. Maybe mess up a few times but ultimately she means well and tries to be as understanding as she possibly can be <33
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‧₊˚✧ Charlie ✧˚₊‧
⭐️☀︎ The first thing you did when you arrived at the hotel was inform the very excited daughter of Lucifer that you had chronic pains so you might have to take it a bit slow when showing you around the Hazbin Hotel..
⭐️☀︎ And of course, Charlie being who she was, was very understanding and accepting of that fact.
⭐️☀︎ She’d heard about your condition before so making accommodations for you wouldn’t be an issue
⭐️☀︎ She’s a sweetheart so quite literally your biggest supporter
⭐️☀︎ Like, oh? You need something??Ohmygodwhydidntyoutellmesoonerhereitis :33
⭐️☀︎ Much like Vaggie, she’d sit and talk with you during your flareups
⭐️☀︎ Maybe make you a tea and discuss future plans and such for the hotel to get your mind off of things. Works sometimes surprisingly enough.
⭐️☀︎ She’s nice to talk to, very comforting vibes
⭐️☀︎ But it may get a bit annoying how many times she asks if you’re sure there’s nothing she can do to make your pain go away somehow lol
⭐️☀︎ Or even just how many times she asks if you need something. “Do you need anything? No? Are you sure? Okay…. But are you really sure?”
⭐️☀︎ Might stress herself out on occasion over it tbh😭🙏
⭐️☀︎ But she only means well, you know that.
⭐️☀︎ Her cat Keekee I’m sure would love to cuddle, the cute cyclopean kitty pushing its forehead against your hand for pets (only if you’re up to it, of course.)
⭐️☀︎ Asides from Angel, Charlie would definitely be the best person to tell in the hotel because like… genuinely she just wants to help In any way she can lol
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‧₊˚✧ Niffty ✧˚₊‧
🧼𐙚 Niffty is quite blunt as well, very out there and doesn’t really think before she speaks half of the time it just kinda comes out 😭
🧼𐙚 So.. she’d probably take one look at you, and ask why you’re in pain.
🧼𐙚 To which you’d explain to the little one eyed maid your condition, she’d think about it for a moment before asking a shitload of questions about it to which you answer :))
🧼𐙚 Other than that I don’t think Niffty would like… really do much?
🧼𐙚 Maybe clean for you
🧼𐙚 But there’s not much else she would do, realistically, she might forget about it and then ask again. Once you remind her she remembers tho lol
🧼𐙚 During your flareups I do believe like the others she’d sit with you for a while…
🧼𐙚 Before spotting a roach and scurrying off to go take care of the pest. Once done, she’d come back and the cycle repeats.
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Please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my fanfictions/writing/headcanons without permission ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞
ᯓ★ Scatteredskittless
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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months
Note
Hey I have an idea for "Get Off My Screen" what if Y/N starts talking to Vox less and less and he is so confused so he goes through her phone to try and figure it out and sees her Instagram announcing a new bf and Vox is soooo jealous but she basically ignores his protests and so life goes on as normal for them both until one day he gets nosy and checks her texts on her phone with her bf and finds nudes from her and then he gets annoyed and lectures her about it which leads to her getting angry and ignoring him but then a few weeks later he checks Y/N and the bf's chats again and sees him threatening her
On a completely unrelated note I luv this series and also definitely need a Vox of my own in my phone cause I can't write or spell for shit lol
You Could Do Better(With Me)
Protective!Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
WARNINGS: Mentions of Alcohol, Nudes, Blackmail, Manipulation
A/N: Okay this was actually pretty angsty, more on Vox's side because he's just dealing with a lot of emotional whiplash- most of which he doesn't really deal with well but he powers through it to be there for you. At this point in time he's kind of certain he likes you, but not that he loves you. Kind of like the: "Oh I'm really fond of this person, I want to make sure they're safe and happy." Without realizing the romantic implications nor how deep the level of attachment really is. So far, Reader's only kind of had a puppy-love crush on Vox but has blatantly disregarded it because well- Vox is fucking dead so what the hell are you supposed to do?? That and Vox constantly gets on Reader's nerves with his shenanigans so even if she gets the Cupid valentines filter when he cranks up the charisma- his stupid hijinks quickly do away with it and make him seem idiotic(cutely) again. The story also has a lot of emotional stuff so if you'd rather stick to the comedy feel free to skip this interlude and the one directly after it.
A/N: Either way, that's currently the pace these two are at- and this is a songfic! If you want to listen to the tune while reading- here it is! "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum. The story itself is slightly different from the prompt since I made it centered around how Vox perceived things were going. As always, I hope y'all have fun and enjoy! Happy Reading!
youtube
Vox wanted to pretend everything was okay.
Walking through the halls of the Vee tower, he really wanted to play it off like nothing was bothering him.
And still, he found himself checking his phone for any updates or messages from you.
Day by day you were starting to slowly disappear from his routine.
He didn't notice it at first, how you were pulling away-
It was just the little things initially.
One word replies, emoji spam-
Vox figured you just weren't in the mood to listen or talk.
Did he do something that hurt you?
Up until the point that you both didn't really have any meaningful conversations anymore.
Which, as much as he tried to start anything proper-
It would always fall flat.
Were you still even trying?
He woke up one morning and followed his routine, shooting you a greeting before he started the day.
It just so happened that once he was finally able to check his phone to shoot you a wish goodnight-
You hadn't even replied to his morning message.
He was busy throughout the day, so he wasn't given the opportunity to worry about you.
But now, worry he did.
Vox quickly made his way towards his monitor room despite how late it was.
He went through your files, your pictures-
Wait.
Wait a goddamn minute.
Who the fuck was that?
He glitched slightly when he saw how that guy grinned in the picture.
It reminded him of his own, just so fucking fake.
Not to mention the air the person had around them.
They just exuded a great sense of showmanship and arrogance.
One Vox was all too familiar with.
That wasn't even the first picture you had with that person recently.
And the more the overlord looked, the more worked up he got.
He wasn't sure if it was anger, envy, irritation, or just a mix of everything under the sun.
Holding your waist, hugging you close, in some pictures your faces were so close together that you were almost kissing.
He was glitching in his chair from the emotional overload.
Who did this guy think he was to be able to treat you like that?!
Vox definitely punched a few screens from fury and jealousy.
Come the next day when he confronted you about it-
More like became a clear pain in the ass that you really couldn't ignore-
Making your computer practically unusable even-
Was when you revealed to him that you didn't mean to hide something like this.
You just simply forgot to say anything.
Vox didn't know if that was worse than if you tried to deceive him.
"Geez, so you have a boyfriend now?"
"Oh come on, you act like I'm not allowed to date. I'm a responsible adult Vox, not a kid."
The tech overlord only stared at the screen.
Was that really all you saw him as?
A digital guardian?
Just... someone who treated you like a kid?
He scoffed, he could count more times where he was the childish one.
That was stupid.
Besides that, he had more pressing matters to deal with.
What was this... horrible sinking feeling that was running through his systems?
It was like a weight that made him struggle breathing.
"Vox?"
"I'm still here. Can't believe you would forget to tell me something as important as this."
His claws dug into his armrests, he should've been happy you found yourself a partner.
If that partner just didn't remind him so much of himself.
"I'm sorry okay? I was really busy the last few days."
"The last few days? How long have you even been talking to this guy dollface?"
"Months? Probably? I've known him for a while now, he was the school crush when I was back in high school."
Vox wanted to convince you that this guy was bad news.
A walking red flag if you will.
He... should know.
Vox was at least aware of himself that much.
Still, he swallowed it all back and just replied to you again.
"I don't mind the fact you're off the market, hell- congratulations even! Just don't get into any sketchy shit. You know, anything that could be used against you as blackmail."
"Yeah yeah, I know what I'm doing Vox. Seriously, don't worry about it!"
You simply brushed off his worry, typical.
That just made the suffocating feeling even worse.
He didn't even know where it came from, or why.
"Oh yeah! I've got a boyfriend now!"
Those words replayed in his head like a bullet to the skull.
The day hadn't even started.
And Vox already wished it was over.
This just continued for a while, your presence in his schedule became negligible and Vox was falling back into his old vices.
He became snappy, irritable, just downright intolerable to be around.
The employees were feeling it, the Vees were collateral-
Not even Valentino could placate Vox's current horrid state.
It's been a week.
Vox stopped bothering to message you in the morning.
But he didn't stop checking if you would message him even once or twice.
It was pathetic.
And another.
Vox broke more than a dozen phones from just throwing them around.
He drank himself to sleep every night.
Valentino and Velvette were getting tired of having to dump his wasted ass on his bed every time.
And another.
Vox holed himself up in his monitor room whenever he wasn't needed.
No one could get him to come out.
Not even for food or water.
If he needed anything he would get it himself.
It was a long day of broadcasts and meetings, another monotonous cycle in his fast-paced life.
Vox intended to just drink until he passed out again, but he somehow found himself drunkenly stumbling through the halls of the Vee Tower into his monitor room.
He honestly didn't even know what he was doing this time.
The overlord fought to keep his own head up as he collapsed in his chair.
He glanced over to the side your computer's screen was connected to and let out a shaky sigh.
God, he fucking missed you.
Against his better judgement, Vox connected himself to your devices again.
He went straight to your playlist and just pressed start.
Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor~
Vox spun around in his chair, letting the music ebb and flow into his brain.
He took another swig from the bottle of alcohol in his other hand, squinting at the screens.
Everything was just kind of fuzzy.
Reaching for the phone cause, I can't fight it anymore...
It took him by surprise when one of the screens showed your living room.
Had you connected him to your TV again?
"Vox...? Are you there?"
And I wonder if I've ever crossed your mind?
He was too out of it to properly say anything, Vox couldn't recall if the words that stumbled out of him were even coherent.
"Dude... you look like shit."
Listening to your voice gave him a slight moment of sobriety.
"Likewise dollface."
For me it happens all the time...
"Are you wasted??"
"Erm, not really. Just buzzed."
He was able to take a good look at you then, your eyes were red and puffy like you'd just been crying.
It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now...
"What the hell happened to you?"
"Uh... well... you know that guy I was dating?"
Vox took a swig of alcohol before he replied, there was no way he was making it through his conversation unless he was drunk out of his circuits.
"My personality copycat? Yeah, what about?"
Said I wouldn't call, but I've lost all control-
"Your personality- what??"
"Dollface, do you seriously think I wouldn't notice how much of a walking red flag that asshole was?"
You paused as he took another swig of his drink, Vox didn't miss that look of guilt and pity in your eyes.
"But you just called him your copy."
"And? I know I'm a piece of shit. Takes one to know one."
And I need you now...
"Whatever, I don't think you'd stoop as low as he did."
"That's for me to judge, what did the bastard do?"
He saw the slight tremble in your posture, your voice cracked as if you were holding back sobs.
And I don't know how I can do without-
"I- I knew I should've listened to you. I sent him compromising pictures and he... he-"
"You sent him nudes and he used them to blackmail you didn't he?"
You flopped back down on the couch and his unfocused eyes met your watery ones.
So that's why you'd been crying.
I just need you now...
"It doesn't feel good to have your trust broken by someone you gave your heart to I'd reckon."
You scoffed at him, wiping away your tears as they continued to fall.
Vox so badly wanted to make it stop, but he didn't trust himself to be lucid enough to say the right words.
"Well wouldn't you know? I'd bet the women over there would throw themselves at your feet."
Another shot of whisky, can't stop looking at the door...
Vox couldn't tell if it was his imagination or not that made it seem like he heard jealousy in your voice.
There wasn't any reason for you to feel envious anyway.
He took another swig of alcohol before meeting your gaze once again.
Wishing you'd come sweeping, in the way you did before~
"So what if there are? I'm too busy to pursue a dedicated relationship. I mean- have you seen the amount of shit I have to deal with every day?"
You looked dejected by his answer, or at least that's what Vox thought.
Yeah, he was absolutely wasted.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?
"So what did you do? Did you break up with the guy?"
"Can't. If I do, he'll release all my pictures online."
Vox hummed, pulling up a window on your computer for you to interact with.
He was a paranoid man as is, but this just proved it didn't hurt to have precautions in place.
For me it happens all the time...
"What is that?"
"Something I made for all your files months ago."
"What does it do?"
Vox took another swig from his bottle.
It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now...
"A safeguard, all files you send from your devices can be irreversibly corrupted remotely. An encryption thing, I tried to tell you about it but you didn't respond."
He wasn't surprised that you pressed the prompt to start the file corruption process on those pictures you'd sent.
Hell, everything you sent the rat bastard that broke your heart.
Honestly, the fucker didn't even deserve you.
Neither did Vox if he had to be honest with himself.
Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control-
The overlord stayed silent as he drank once more from his bottle of booze.
It was nearly empty at this point, not that he cared.
He could only assume you were watching the progress bar load which was why you didn't say anything.
And I need you now...
Vox just watched as you eventually got up and used your phone to call someone.
A smug smile worked onto his face when he realized who you were talking to.
After all, you'd only curse like a sailor when you were genuinely mad.
And I don't know how I can do without-
"You're kind of hot when you get angry you know?"
"Pfft, is that why you like to piss me off then?"
"Maybe, though I usually do just to get a reaction out of you anyways."
I just need you now...
Vox saw you roll your eyes, a smile finally gracing your face and he couldn't help but return it.
"I just became single again and you're already hitting on me huh?"
"Whaaaaat? I would never."
Vox humored you well into the morning hours.
The both of you talking once again like old times.
Like nothing even happened.
Eventually it got to the point you had fallen asleep on the couch right in front of the TV during one of Vox's stories.
The overlord let a soft genuine smile appear on his face at the sight.
At least you were okay again.
He swirled the remaining alcohol in the bottle and threw his head back as he downed the rest of it.
Finally feeling the exhaustion catch up to him, both emotionally and physically-
Vox's screen dimmed as he succumbed to slumber right alongside you in his chair.
A/N: HOOOOLY SHIT THIS CHAPTER IS LONG- this was an absolute UNIT of a segment but it gets better in the next one I promise, besides- I don't want to doom Vox and Reader by the narrative, that would just be a sucky ending. We'll still have more emotionally vulnerable stuff in the next interlude so if that's not your cup of tea feel free to skip it too.
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riverbutghost · 8 months
Text
He is much more older than you || 2
(sorry, this is a bit longer than I intended it to be and no more parts are coming, just your imagination ;)) part 1 here || part 3 here!!
You still couldn’t help but think about his words over and over again. It was hurtful, getting scolded from him was always hurtful. But this was something else, he had rejected you.
“Sir,”
You mumbled, and opened the door after he had told you to come in.
You didn’t say a word. You didn’t look at him. What happened to ‘You weren’t going to stop?’ huh?
You didn’t know what to do, God you weren’t that brave either. Your last encounter left something in your heart. A little crack.
You sighed, it was simple. You decided to not say anything if he didn’t, and if he did well, you weren’t sure if you could control your emotions.
“How are you?”
Yeah.
“I’m fine, sir. Have a good day.”
You mumbled and got out. Almost immediately after you left, your chest started tightening. You breathed deeply.
“Hey, long time no see!”
You jumped, all of the folders in your hand dropped to the floor.
“Oh my God, Gaz.”
You exclaimed, and he just laughed. You laughed too after a while, he was back. You started chatting with him, your mind was slowly losing your lieutenant’s words.
-
Simon on the other hand, wasn’t feeling all settled.
“Oh my God, Gaz.”
He heard your voice, slight excitement in it. His eyebrows were furrowed immediately. He felt primal, raging as if someone stole his mate.
As your voice were dying down, he got up and locked his door. He pulled off his mask, and rubbed his temple quite aggressively.
“Fuckin’ hell..”
He sighed. He knew he was denying it, everything. He was denying it, because that was easier. Easier than loving you. He knew it, and he hope you did too.
But this wasn’t enough. He was angry, hungry. He didn’t know what he wanted- no he knew. You.
“Sir..?”
He jumped up, grabbed his mask and put it on after hearing your soft, delicate voice.
“Yeah-yeah. Come in.”
You got in, a smile forming on your face. You were in a lighter mood, he assumed.
“Price told me to drop these off..”
You said, while giving him some of the documents that you were carrying. He sighed and thanked you, your scent making him feel.. yeah.
He cleared his throat, and you looked at him. You blinked a few times under your thick long eyelashes. He gave a breath.
“Gaz is back?”
“Yeah, thank god he is alive. Would you like a coffee, sir?”
His thighs tensed, and he fisted his hand. Closing his eyes, he shook his head.
“Are you okay-?”
He panicked, he didn’t want you to see it.
“Get out.”
There it was. You knew it would be like this if you ket your hopes up.
A disappointed sigh left your mouth as you got out of his room. Simon cursed himself, for making you sad again.
He was going to regret this.
He called your name. Yelled it, actually.
You turned around in shock, body tensing as your eyes connected with his’
“Yeah..?”
You mumbled. Confusion spread over your face.
“I. Fuck, come here.”
“What?”
He sighed and got up, steps coming in a hurry. He backed you up into the door, and you gasped quietly. You looked up at him.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
He calmly but firmly said, making your knees go weak.
“What am I doing to you, sir?”
He slammed his fist next to your head, cursing at the same time. You flinched. You liked it. He was finally caving in.
“You and this fuckin’ filthy little mouth. Beautiful little mouth.”
He looked up, almost trying to gain some control.
“Fuck it. I’m done playing games. Get over to the desk. Come on now, pretty girl.”
Your breathing was unsteady, your heart was pounding. You thighs were dripping.
“You asked for it, now get over to the desk. Let’s see if that’s what you want. This sweet little face is gonna be messed up.”
He clicked his tongue and rolled his sleeves up, making you mutter an ‘oh fuck’.
You knees buckled, but he held your waist.
“Now.”
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shoddynomenclature · 3 months
Note
Hi!!! Absolutely love your writing :)
Idk if you’re taking requests but if you are:
Been having a tough time lately, would it be possible to have the female companions (plus Aylin+Isobel) comforting Tav/Reader during a panic attack?
Thank youuuuuu sending you all the love and good vibes
BG3 Ladies Soothe a Panic Attack
I was honestly unsure I’d ever able to do this prompt justice, especially given how differently every person’s needs are in such a situation. But I felt inspired to give it a shot anyway! I hope it’s alright!
I also send good vibes and well wishes to all my fellow panic attack having soldiers.
In the spirit of trying to keep it vague, this one is pretty short. But without further ado, here’s Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, Minthara, Jaheira, and Isobel and Aylin!
Shadowheart
Shadowheart knows all the clerical tips and tricks that are gonna get you through this you through this.
As soon as you’re in full blown panic she’s got an ice spell at her fingertips, placing her cold hands on your face especially around the eyes.
She kneels down next to you. “Alright love, I need you to breathe with me,” she commands, modeling the most effective breathing techniques.
She’s very soft, nearly whispering so you have to really focus on her in order to understand what she is saying.
She’s very liberal with her praise, telling you how good you’re doing with every breath you’re able to match.
When the panic subsides, she instructs you to rest. She’ll lay with you if you’d like, but you need to rest for at least a few minutes before proceeding with life as usual.
She brings you food and water, taking the opportunity to make sure you’re taking care of yourself in general. You have to eat and drink at least a little bit before she’ll let you go.
She also wants to have a little chat about the root of the issue. What are some of your triggers? What are some things that help you specifically?
Next time, she’s gonna be prepared.
Lae’zel
Lae’zel is not the gentle type when it comes to these sorts of things, though it’s not something she’s entirely unfamiliar with.
When she sees the panic set in, she’s the first to pull you up to your feet and have you do jumping jacks or something.
While any observers might think she’s being heartless or unemphatic, the adrenaline actually works pretty well to pull you out of the panic fast.
She doesn’t make you feel embarrassed about it at all. She simply squeezes your arms and nods in understanding. It happens to the best of us.
Lae’zel is, shockingly, largely unfazed. You get the sense that she dealt with this before. Perhaps she even dealt with panic attacks herself in her youth.
She thinks it’s best to resume normal activities immediately, though she’ll secretly be keeping a special eye on you the rest of the day.
Karlach
In seeing your unbridled panic, Karlach starts to get a little panicked herself.
She just doesn’t really have any experience with this sort of thing and is completely unsure of what to do.
Her first instinct is to hold you, but if you put up any sort of resistance at all she backs off immediately.
Whether you are in her arms or simply next to her, she whispering words of affirmation. But she’s unable to come up with much more than ���it’s okay, soldier. It’s gonna be okay. You’ve got this.”
When you’re no longer gripped by panic, she’s still not entirely sure what to do. She’ll take your lead completely. Though she’s not entirely convinced that a simple “back to business” is the best course of action.
She’ll probably want to cuddle or at least hold your hand for a while just to make sure you’re truly alright. If she’s being honest, the ordeal gave her quite a scare. But she absolutely will not make this about her right now.
She’s going to be checking in on you pretty consistently over the next couple days. She may even get some pointers from Shadowheart on what to do if it ever happens again.
Minthara
Minthara’s first priority is privacy and protection. Anyone who isn’t her isn’t allowed to come anywhere close to you. Not when you’re this vulnerable.
After everyone is gone and out of earshot, she asks “Would you like to be held?” She speaks with the same tone and cadence she’s always using. Nothing about her softens.
If you say yes, she’ll silently pull you into her arms, allowing you to sob and heave into her chest until you recover.
Pretty much anything you need is fair game. She will not stop you from clutching at her clothes or skin, even if you accidentally hurt her.
If you say no, she’ll simply sit next to you in silence, occupying herself with a silent menial task. She will allow you some space, but she will not leave you entirely alone.
Either way, anyone who values their life will stay away from you; she’ll make sure of it.
You expect her to lecture you about such a blatant display of weakness, but she doesn’t. And anyone who would dare even mention it will receive a glare that makes them think better of it.
Jaheira
Jaheira’s first tactic is similar to that of Lae’zel. She tries to get you moving until the endorphins help you overcome your panic.
It’s honestly frustrating how effective it is. The height of your panic subsides quicker than it ever has before.
She is, however, quite a bit gentler afterwards. She has questions. Is this a frequent occurrence? What triggers your panic? How can we avoid it in future?
When you express to her your concern about your anxiety making you a weak link, she is quick to shut down any doubt that you are less valuable for this.
She’s raised enough children to know it takes all sorts of strengths and weaknesses to round out a team. Even those on the softer side have their purpose.
She eventually convinces to start taking more days off, especially when the task at hand has a high likelihood to push you beyond your limits.
Isobel and Dame Aylin
Dame Aylin pulls you into her arms. Even if you struggle against it at first, she just holds you tightly against her chest and gently shushes your sobs.
Meanwhile, Isobel handles the situation very similarly to Shadowheart, bringing her clerical knowledge in to support you.
She strokes your face with cooled hands, not minding the way tears pour relentlessly down her hands. All while a strong Aylin gently kisses the crown of your head.
Aylin shields you from the world with her wings, only allowing Isobel close. Anyone else will receive a gentle yet firm “Begone.”
When it’s over, Isobel tells you to rest. She’ll probably insist prefer you came back to/stayed at camp with her for the rest of the day.
As loathe as you are to miss out on a day on adventuring, Isobel’s company makes for the best afternoon anyone could ask for.
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confessedlyfannish · 6 months
Text
DP x DC Prompt #7
Robin is heretofore thought to be alone when he swings his katana behind him, almost catching the Adam's apple of his mother's new lover.
"Whoopsie!" Danny says, taking an agile step back, as if Robin's slice was a slip of the hand rather than a deliberate and likely fatal attack.
"What are you doing here," Robin demands, mask hiding the momentary widen of his eyes. No one sneaks up on the heir of Batman, least of all his mother's latest toy.
"I wanted to chat, just you and I," Danny says, as if they are standing on a sidewalk and not the rooftop of a forty floor building in the dead of night, Robin in full costume. "I know you were kinda caught off guard yesterday night."
"I was not caught off guard."
This is a lie. Yesterday night when Talia had appeared at the latest Wayne Charity Ball as the date of Daniel Fenton, an up-and-coming name in renewable energy, Father's dumbfounded look had been nothing less than genuine.
And even the Annoyance had choked on his non-alcoholic champagne when Talia had instructed Damian to greet his "new stepfather".
"Talia," Danny had said levelly, running a hand over hers placed delicately in the crook of his arm, "Remember how we were going to break this gently?"
"Darling, Al Ghuls do not require a gentle break," Talia had replied.
"What is happening," Tim had quietly muttered, squinting at the contents of his glass suspiciously. "What."
Tonight Danny is as calm as he was the previous night, looking amused if anything. Damian resists the urge to take another swing at him. Mother would probably not like that. Danny's affections towards her had seemed quite genuine, his eyes often on her with a light Damian reluctantly recognized from Grayson's many dalliances. And dare he say it, Mother had seemed to reciprocate.
"My mistake. Still," Danny says, "I was hoping to speak with you alone."
"I do not require another father," Damian says promptly. This is true. He already has a father, and a Grayson, and the other annoyances, and Alfred. "And you should not be speaking to a...minor...without their guardian present." He does not like saying this, as he is fully capable of being his own guardian, but Dick had been adamant once updated by Tim and Barbara that should Damian come in contact with Danny alone he was to say as such. He had extracted a promise from Damian after a high-pitched lecture via video call going on nigh an hour. Damian had been waterboarded, twice, and would have preferred a third time to one of Grayson's seminars on "stranger danger" and "parental custody". It had prevented him from going on patrol with Batman, who had left shortly after the gala, presumably to meet with his mother.
Batman had not succeeded, returning without a word. Red Hood, cackling, had pulled up behind him to congratulate Damian on his new "daddy" and loudly tell Oracle how Bruce had gotten an eyeful. An eyeful of what, Damian wasn't sure, and asking only made Jason laugh harder and Dick yell from the Batcomputer.
"Good thing I'm speaking to Robin, then," Danny says with a grin. Damian updates his mental file on the man to less of a goody two-shoes than previously thought. "And like I said last night, I'm not here to overstep."
"Then?" Robin asks crossing his arms.
"You and I are a lot alike, actually," Danny says. Despite the chill of the night, wind whipping at his hair, he seems very comfortable in his t-shirt and jeans.
Damian scoffs and Danny holds his hands up.
"Okay, I deserved that one. What I mean is, and bear with me here, I had a lot going on when I was your age, and my parents weren't always super...present. Their work kept them pretty distracted as we got older and more independent."
The background check they'd run indicated Danny's parents were scientists, his sister a therapist and women's self-defense instructor. The man himself had nothing remarkable on his record beyond a public intoxication charge in his early twenties, but that hardly meant anything. Talia Al Ghul's public record was nothing short of exemplary, one of the many facts that had made the judge reluctant to grant Bruce full custody.
"And listen, I know the way I was raised in the midwest is vastly different from your upbringing, and comparing the two would likely be condescending and a disservice to you, but I also know that while I liked my independence, I wish I had been able to talk to my parents more when things got tough."
"I fail to understand what you are saying," Damian says flatly. "Are you instructing me to speak to my parents as you believe I am having a hard time? And your basis for this incredibly incorrect hypothesis is you were once a teenager whose parents were neglectful? Also, this is certainly overstepping."
Danny's smile is sheepish. "It is, isn't it?"
Damian turns to leave.
"What I'm trying to say," Danny says loudly. "Is that I intend to stay in Gotham. I have some things I need to see to here so I'll be here a while.
"And this is important to me because--"
"Talia will be staying." When Damian continues to stare at him blankly, he clarifies: "With me. Here. I mean, we definitely will go on a honeymoon at some point, even though I'm not sure we're actually married no matter what Talia says about that ceremony--"
"Tt. Grandfather will never let Mother simply galavant around."
"You don't need to worry about Ra's any more," Danny says, straightening. His voice is firm and certain. "He won't be bothering you or your mother."
"That's impossible," Damian says sharply.
"You can ask Talia yourself." Danny pulls out a card. "This is the hotel we're staying at. Room 805. You are right that you definitely shouldn't come without your father's permission, but if he's alright with it please feel free."
Danny takes a step closer, and if Damian's quick grip on his katana bothers him he doesn't show it.
"I mean it Robin. I'm not saying Talia's going to petition for joint custody, and I'll make sure Batman knows that as well. I just want you to know she's here. If you ever want to...see her."
He holds out the card until Damian plucks it from his hand with a growl.
"And also, Damian?"
"What?" Damian snaps.
"Your mom talks about you all the time. I think she'd like to see you too."
"Tt." Damian says, eyes darting down to the card. When they flick back up, Danny is gone.
Damian pulls a quick 360, sword drawn, but the man is nowhere to be seen.
"Robin," Batman says in his comm. "Need you on the west docks."
His comm line was open the whole time, he realizes, but Oracle is uncharacteristically silent. A further investigation shows no time has passed since Danny arrived at the roof. Only the card clenched in his fist indicates he was ever there.
"On my way," Damian says, sheathing his weapon.
Hmph. Of course. His mother is no fool, least of all in her selection of lovers.
Upon arriving at the cave later that night, Damian exits the clock at the rear of the group.
"Father," he says as he clears the threshold. "I wish to spend time with Mother and Stepfather at their earliest convenience. Perhaps tomorrow after school."
Everyone stops still, turning to look back at him. Tim pauses mid-stretch, Steph's jaw drops, and Cassie smiles pleasantly at him. Even Alfred, a tray of freshly baked cookies in hand, blinks at him.
Bruce's mouth opens and closes, wordlessly.
"Absolutely not!" Dick Grayson screeches from the other end of the hallway, dufflebag in hand. Behind him Jason grasps the doorway, doubled over in laughter.
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jvnluvr · 1 year
Text
jealousy, jealousy ; blue lock boys ♡
ft. sae, kaiser and isagi x f!reader
author's note: if only these scenarios i write would actually happen to me.. :( it's okay, maybe it'll happen one day. an idea i randomly came up with, kinda rushed but still put a decent amount of thought into it. i think i only can genuinely write good when i'm mad skdksj. anyways, enjoyy!! ♡
itoshi sae:
"she's actually, pretty cute..." sae could hear rin mumble next to him, noticing that he was clearly in some sort of daze.
he knew rin was just doing it to piss him off, and he hated to say it was working. everyone knew it, you and sae both liked each other. it's just the both of you were too shy too actually ask the other to be in an official relationship. still, he made it evident to let other people know not to flirt with you, cause worst will come to the worst.
"her outfit is also pretty nice, right?" rin mentioned yet another compliment about you. this time though, he was snapped out of his trance and he was talking to isagi, which the boy agreed with the statement.
it's like a fire erupted inside of sae. it didn't even matter at that point if people were able to see the fury on his face as he walked towards you. you were just minding your own business after all, giggling, chatting and catching up with your friends. well, that was until you were harshly pressed against a wall, the air almost being knocked out of you as your field of view drastically increased.
by just his cologne, you almost immediately know it's sae. but you still nervously look up as he's looking down at you with his usual bored eyes. however, the moment your gazes lock onto to each other, he's giving you that soft smile he only dares to show when you're around. it makes your heart flutter, cause why was he always hiding it if it was such a pretty look on him?
"um, is there a reason why you decided to pull such a bold move in front of everyone tonight-? huh-?" it was just a little sound you could make as he moved your chin up towards him to pull you for a kiss. it wasn't a short one either. he made sure to take his time devouring and remembering the way your lips tasted. at first, you had no idea to react, but eventually you were able to ease into the kiss.
it takes a while until sae is finally satisfied and able to let go of you. only then do you both realize how quiet the place has gotten, and that's when it hits that everyone is paying attention to the both of you. upon your realization, you put your head down in embarrassment, but it's not like anyone could see you really. sae's back was covering you.
he could hear the gasps and shocked noises from rin and isagi, but that's what makes his let out that deep chuckle. he kisses your forehead, whispering 'mine' across the skin as he grabs your hand. "where are we going-?" yet again you are merely cut off as sae drags you out of the area, with vivid plans to take you to his house, to make things official once and for all.
michael kaiser:
kaiser was definitely one to get jealous much easier. i mean, who can blame him? he takes great pride in his relationship, and you mean the absolute world to him ! it's only natural for him to get possessive over the one he loves. so when he sees some random guy leaning into you, he's outraged to say the least. but he's still in the middle of practice. noa would come for him if he left at any regard.
so when he goes on his little break, he tries to listen in a bit first. kaiser doesn't want you to think you're not capable of saying no yourself, but he's still there to rush in and protect you for whenever the time calls for it. "what's a pretty girl like you doing in a stadium like this?" this guy's tone almost makes him vomit right then and there.
"uhm, waiting for my boyfriend. can you please move? you're making me really uncomfortable." you say nicely, yet with a stern voice. kaiser's always liked that about you. your ability to still stay so calm in dire situations like these. you keep him balanced, and he loves you so much than words can express for that.
"c'mon, your little boyfie' doesn't hafta' know. just come with me for today." he really hates how insistent this man is. kaiser might be a bit of a jerk at times too, but he doesn't stoop down to this horrible of a level. he's really tempted to run in there, but again, he waits a little while longer.
"no thanks." it's simple, and you try to walk off, you really do. but the man grabs onto your arm roughly, which makes you yelp out in pain. he's almost trying to drag you away, to which you aren't able to retaliate as much as you has hoped to do. kaiser sees you, he does. so the instinct alarms loud in him, and he's picking up his pace to run over to you, quickly knocking the man out of his senses (literally) before turning around to you.
"sorry i didn't come sooner, baby. did he hurt you? i'm sorry-" you stop his chant of apologies by giving him a quick kiss and then wrapping your arms around him. even if he's sweaty, kaiser didn't want any more than to keep you in his arms forever. "it's okay mikka, he didn't pull too hard. thank you for coming." you kiss him on the cheek again as he does the same back to you.
"well first of all, he was ugly anyway. i knew you wouldn't go for him. second of all, i wish i had come sooner, really. i didn't want you to think that i thought you were incapable or whatever." you smile at him unconsciously as he talks. jealous michael was not only really useful, but he was also really cute.
isagi yoichi:
isagi is more of the "doesn't really notice but when he does he becomes 10000000x more clinger." (yes i just gave it a title shut up.) so when he invites you to his gathering with the blue lock boys, he wants you to enjoy yourself! he's off chatting with bachira and chigiri, but everyone once in a while he'll look at you to make sure you still have that gorgeous smile on your face!!
so when he looks back at you once again, he's a bit confused. you look great, of course! but it kind of seems like, you're having too much fun..? without him? his heart stings a little. isagi loves seeing you happy, but when it's with another guy? nagi at that? no, he's not happy at all now. he's the one who should be making you laugh like that, not him.
he quickly excuses himself from the conversation at hand and starts to walk over to you. you're sitting on a chair, back facing towards him. so to surprise you, he wraps his arms around you, gently putting his chin on top of your head. he makes direct eye contact with nagi, which almost looks like a death glare. "hey princess, what are you up to?" he coos at you, and since you can't see his face, you assume he's in a good mood.
"nothing much, yoichi! nagi was telling me about blue lock! how was the catching up going?" you say, smiling at nagi. but he gives you a barely visible one back as you suddenly feel your chair being turned around. you see your boyfriend's face, softly smiling at you. you couldn't help but think how adorable he was.
"i could tell you about blue lock too, y'know? come with me, cutie." he lifts you up from your chair, and you let out a small laugh. but then you remember about nagi. was he just staring at you both this whole time-? the thought of it flushes your cheeks, but when you turn around, the chair is empty.
"hey yoichi, what happened to nagi..?" he turns you back around, planting on kiss on your forehead and then one on your lips. "don't worry about it, baby! i'm sure he just saw reo and then walked off! come on, let's go!" he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together as he drags you off. but when you hear your phone buzz, you see a new notification, a message from nagi.
IMESSAGE:
nagi: your boyfriend is scary, tame him.
you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle once you realized what had happened.
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A Phil update! For those who were asking.
I mentioned before that Phil works for a call centre. I'm pretty sure I've also made it clear by now that Phil's spectacular weirdness, coupled with his hatred of capitalism, means he's been mentally checked out of that job for a while now. His main focus has been his degree for the past year anyway. The only reason he's stayed is because Phil has a history of destructive impulsivity that he's been actively working on, so he didn't want to just walk out.
So there we are, scene set. Last week, he phones my husband.
"A weird thing happened in work," he tells Steff. "My manager called me into the office for a chat, but... I think it was weird? I'm pretty sure it was weird."
"Tell me what happened, Phil," says Steff.
***
Here's the story:
Phil goes into the office, and the manager fixes him with a Kind Smile.
"Phil," the Manager says hesitantly. "Do you... like working here?"
"...um," says Phil, distantly aware after Many Conversations with Exasperated Friends that the correct answer to your boss is 'yes', but physically incapable of lying. "Well. I. Um."
"Because," the manager says awkwardly. "Look, you - it's okay."
"Is it?" Phil asks vaguely.
"It's okay," the manager repeats. "I know you don't like working here. This isn't what you want to do. You don't want to stay."
"No," Phil agrees, relieved they are on the same page.
"Listen," the manager says, in an agony of awkwardness. "Look, Phil... you're such a nice guy. Just... I'll write you the best reference. But you can just... go, if you want. You can... go back to your desk and log out and just... leave."
"...okay," says Phil. And he leaves.
***
So he tells this story to Steff, who is, obviously, BAFFLED.
"Okay," says Steff. "Right. Phil. Phil what the fuck did you do."
"Nothing!" Phil protests. "I didn't do anything!"
"Okay," Steff says again, changing tack. "Phil. What have you done recently that a capitalist would disapprove of?"
"Oh," says Phil. "It's probably because I gave that old woman £200 of company money."
"...go on," Steff says wearily.
***
Here's the story:
This sweet old woman rings and says her phone was down for a couple of days. She's calling to complain, because it meant she couldn't contact her relatives, and she felt lonely.
"I'm so sorry," says Phil. "Do you want some money?"
("First question," says Steff. "Were you supposed to give any money at all for that?"
"...no," says Phil.)
So this old woman is like "Uh... yes please? Okay?"
"Alright!" says Phil cheerfully. "Let's see how much I can give you."
("Second question," says Steff. "Were you allowed to give out £200 to anyone?"
"Oh, no," says Phil. "They made it really difficult, actually, it took ages.")
"Ah," Phil tells this old lady. "I can only give you £50. Let's try that."
"I... thank you," says this old lady, already in the grip of the Heady Bewilderment that descends on everyone who speaks to Phil for a bit. "That's very generous."
"It's gone through!" says Phil happily. "There we are. I wonder if it'll let me do it again?"
"Um," says the old lady, who is starting to sense that she's dealing with a maverick doing something he shouldn't.
("Third question," says Steff. "Did she ask for more at any point?"
"Um... no," says Phil.)
"It worked!" Phil says brightly. "Do you want me to do it again? I think it'll let me."
"...okay," this old lady says, strangled. "Thank you."
"No problem," says Phil helpfully. "It's done it, I think. Shall we do one more?"
"Yes please," says this old woman, who is now convinced she's either called the wrong number or is speaking to an amenable faerie one mustn't refuse.
Phil tries again. It goes through.
...
"Do you think," Steff asks, "that this might have been a fireable offence?"
"I suppose?" Phil says dubiously. "The company has loads of money though, I don't see why."
"...no, of course you don't," Steff agrees.
"Anyway," Phil says. "I think I left on a good note. But that might have been weird, too."
"What did you do," Steff sighs.
"Well, I packed up my desk," says Phil. "And then this guy turned up who was supposed to give me some training. And I told him that I was leaving so it wasn't necessary, and then he said that he had to give the training-"
"You did the training, didn't you," says Steff.
"I did the training," says Phil.
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