#god hes so cute!!! obsessed with him frankly

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Alright so one of the DCxDP Aus:

It's vaugley inspired by another post I can't find where Amity jumps around the country and sometimes field trips turn into week long road trips. Only vague because I saw: Fentons make the school buses turn into alien invasion shelters and brain went burrrrrrrr.

Anyways, so Superman is fighting off against aliens who have kryptonite. He's trying his best but he's failing, he can't get up.

Meanwhile, a school bus full of kids are watching. Amity Park, after their own world nearly killed them all being led by the GIW who managed to convince everyone ghosts were evil, had displaced itself and now bounces around dimensions. Usually it stays for a week so it's safe enough for trips but this time it didn't. No big, Danny can sense a portal in a city called Gotham so they were on their way when BANG invasion.

Danny thinks it's fun and frankly so does everyone else but Lancer who is exhausted.

Then they see Superman being hurt and…

Danny’s Obsession is both Protection and Space. They know Superman is an alien. He is the Ghost King and the class has become his Fraid through time. They all feel the need to protect.

So they do.

Danny bursts out of the bus first as Phantom and starts blasting. Sam is next, vines erupting from the ground to grab and drag aliens away, one of which she drags to Tucker so he can steal their tech to start hacking. Paulina is out with teeth bared and breathing fire, scales appearing. Dash is using his enhanced strength as Kwan using his super speed. Other kids pour out fighting. Then Star shouts: “KRYPTONITE IS HARDENED ECTOPLASAM! WE CAN EAT IT!”

The kids start snatching and chowing down as other heroes arrive. There are no adverse affects so they let the kids have their fun as they help Superman stand up.

At the end of the invasion, Mr. Lancer (who had come out to with a Blastor in hand) sighed. “Is there paperwork? We were trying to get to a portal in Gotham.”

Que: What?

Danny: “Yeah our home town we had to displace from our him dimension after they wanted to experiment on all of us. Amity pops up in a lot of universes and it's fun!”

Star: “Sometimes our field trips end with us finding the nearest portal though. Danny can find them.”

This just gets questions but like, Lancer is filling out paperwork and the teens are chatting with heroes happily so it ends up they just kind of roll with it.

The conversations are weird though.

Danny: “Ranking for this world?”

Sam: “Top ten. Not higher then Faerun.”

Tucker: “You just liked how you got involved in that one cult and helped summon a Nature God to murder a bunch of polluters.”

Sam: “And?”

Paulina: “I like that one world where everyone had some sort of power. That Midoriya kid was cute. To bad we got caught before we could sneak him on the bus.”

Lancer: “No kidnapping anyone to Amity!”

Tucker: “I liked the time we ended up on that one planet- Palaven? That was fun.”

Danny: “Yeah it was!”

The kids move on and Batman escorts them to Gotham. The portal turns out to be the Lazarus Pit (oh joy) and then life moves on.

Until a month later when Flash sees the kids at a Museum and learns Amity Park came back. The city begins hanging around more and we discoverAmith likes this dimension. It eventually settles near Gotham and Metropolis. Sometimes it vanishes but it always returns.

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Self Aware Sylus vs Jinwoo x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕆𝕟𝕪𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕦𝕤 𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕪𝕝𝕦𝕤˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[ TW: stalking, obsession, yandere Sylus au ]

・┆✦ Entry : 041 ✦ ┆・

╰┈➤ ❝ [ So You Think You Are the Darkness? ] ¡! ❞

Sylus was enjoying himself a glass of wine after fixing up his new toy before suddenly feeling a sharp pain originate from the back of his head. He groaned, gripping his silver hair and stumbling before ultimately being plunged into total darkness.

The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself in an unfamiliar chair, plopped down with legs crossed on a white chair spouting nonesense he didnt want to say.

A flash of white would appear, and Sylus finds himself standing up towards a large screen in front of him. His body was moving on it's own, smirking, flashing a mischievous glint in his eyes, his eyebrows cocked up curiously as he once again spouted whatever.

Beyond that large screen in front of him is a person he is not familiar with,... Wait, why are you smirking?

Is there something so funny about his face? What is that stupid grin on your lips? What the hell?

Sylus's brain ringed as he hears your voice squeal in his head, watching your features contort into a lovely smile. He can tell you were kicking your feet and rolling on the bed like some sort of 13 year old girl having her first ever crush.

He snarls, clicking his tongue as he attempted to move— But nothing ame of his efforts.

The man elt like he was a hollow doll being puppeteered by some strings.

Oh and he hated that feeling.

The feeling of being underneath someone, the disgust he feels as he has to spout out words he doesnt ever want to say. Not to mention he is forced to stand like an awkward sack of potatoes as you tap and stroke around—

....

Did you Just?...

No way.

Sylus wanted to die right then and there.

You did not just rub his big fella.

You. Did. Not.

He felt like dying, he really did as he feels the gentle strokes— God.

He, the almighty lord of the N109 zone, the king who rules Onychinus at his fingertips, he who controls unimaginable power— Is helplessly screaming inside his head as he is humiliated over and over by having to stand still and look pretty as this wild person he doesn't even know poked at the trophy of his masculinity.

Was this punishment?

What has he ever done to offend the gods?

He cant even bring a finger up to flip off the person, or to even yell.

Sylus screamed out profanities in his head, wanting to so badly to just drop dead and disappear. If Luke and Kieran heard of this, he bets his soul to the devil they will never shut up about it.

He had to endure this torture for a number of days, but instead of resenting you more and more— He slowly found himself growing fond of you.

Turns out, hanging out in a sea of code is way more boring than whatever he does back home. Seeing you however? That was a different story.

At first, he found your admiration stupid and shallow. But as he sees the way you excitedly light up whenever he appears and working oh so hard to level up his affinity— Perhaps it tugged in his heartstrings

Just a little really.

Slowly, you were starting to grow cute in his eyes— Minus the fact you keep making rookie mistakes that send him over the edge facepalming at the mistakes.

But hey, at least you're trying.

...Hahah.

What?

He's atleast giving you credit for something, no?

Heh.

The fact that he is a game character didn't seem to bother Sylus at all. It was rather amusing even, the fact the he himself is just a product of someone's imagination in a different world is quite frankly a curious thing.

He could tell with how healthy and happy you are that wanderers do not exist in this world of yours.

Sylus could tell that in your world, you aren;t concerned of surviving the next day and calculating the people around you— Rather, you spend most of your time plucking your hair out over studies while he himself is sat down and cleaning a gun.

This game at least give shim something comfortable to do despite the fact that he has no control over his body in any shape or form.

The more time passes, the more Sylus started to see the errors in the system.

And nothing hurts to have a little... Fun.

He hacked into your phone system succesfully, roaming about and curiously poking here and there.

You awfully consume a lot of media pertaining to him. Sylus would only cock up an eyebrow and shake his head before stalking around a little more until—

...

"Who is this?" Sylus's voice grew a little annoyed as he saw the album containing another man.

The man was tall, not taller than him of course— Dressed in black, an asian guy who appears to be like a grim reaper with the way he carries himself. At least 3000 pictures of this same guy over and over in a single album, hundred times more than your album of him,

Sylus click his tongue and furiously started researching.

Ah.

His name is Jinwoo.

What a fascinating fellow.

Some fancy titles he has, the shadow monarch, the tenth s-ranker of south korea, the strongest hunter, and quite the charming powers. An ability over the undead?

It made him feel fury.

Oh he's so glad this bastard is just another fictional character just as himself in your little world.

Sylus disliked every bit of it, the fact that he shares a space in your heart with that lousy man.

Sure, he's impressive and all.

But oh darling he can do much,... Much more for you.

You think such a pathetic man is worthy of your affections? Darling he's all your.

Sweetie, why are you being so ridiculous about this?

No.

He cannot allow it.

That space in your delicate heart must only be his.

He must be the only person in this precious heart of yours, kitten.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

It was a long day of university, your head is throbbing and your legs are about to give out. Walking all day has placed a number on your poor body and you wanted nothing more than to laze around and admire your men.

Sylus had been taking over your time so you decided to compensate your other hubby and reread Solo Leveling.

It's been a while after all, surely there are more panels to screenshot despite the fact that you already have hundreds of pictures of that oh-so-wonderful man.

So you open the app and—

...

Pitch Black.

Your phone just shut off out of nowhere?

You panic, holding the power button and smacking it around. Even tried to reach for the charger until you scream and drop your phone to the floor.

Inside your phone was a wide, bloodshot red eye like a crimson moon.

You stumble on your feet, falling down on the floor as you scrambled away from the device.

This cant be happening, right?

This is just a dream, isn't it?

No.

No.

No.

"Awe, kitten, are you scared?"

A familiar voice break through the silence, your head darting around to find the source but to no avail— The fact that you cant see anything made you all the more frightened.

You tremble, hyperventilating as your heart hammered against your chest.

"Now, now, sweetie" A low rumble hums in the air, "You'll get a heart attack if you continue like that, kitten. I can't have that."

Footsteps would start echoing on the floor, making you all the more frightened as you sobbed frantically.

"Mn, how cute."

You feel a hand roughly grab your chin, yanking it in front of you where a pair of crimson red eyes glowed and a face appearing.

Silver hair dancing in the air, illuminated by the blood moon outside the window. Black, and a neatly tailored suit over his shoulders.

Sylus.

"There, we go, kitten." Sylus hums, smirking coyly as he sees your flabbergasted expression. "I'm much, much more handsome up close, aren't I?"

His free hand teases your inner wrist; making you shiver in reponse, sliding it up sensously before ultimately intertwining your fingers. His palms were much much more larger than yours. Warm even.

"So cute," He whispers, before leaning down and capturing your lips in a blazing kiss.

It felt like your throat was on fire as Sylus prevented you from gasping for any air.

The more you struggled, the more your conciousness started slipping away.

And the next thing you knew— You were being dragged into the abyss.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

You wake up, groaning as you tousled over, your body aching and heavy.

"Sweetie, you woke up so early" A deep voice says, and you look up to find Sylus dressed in his robes— His chest and abdomen open for you to see. "Your body is still adjusting to your new reality, kitten. Sleep more."

He sat on the edge of the bed, amused red orbs gleaming as he lightly pushes you down on his sheets and pulls the blanket over your chest.

"There's a good girl," Sylus praises you, leaning down to kiss your forehead as a reward. "Don't worry, my sweet angel, all you need to do is sit still and look pretty. I'll take care of the rest.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Call me the speedrun master<33. Yw @sylusjinwoon I fr had a field day making a fic abt your hubby teehhee<33. Grampa is so silly I just wanna kick him on his gyatt all day xD!! Pretty fun writing for him ngl. It's amusing<3!! I hope I did ur man justice bestie and that u enjoy this silly impulsive fic hahah!!! Now time to crawl back to my hubby wubby Zayne and Jinwoonie ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

I WANT TO SEE ONE OF THOSE QUIRKS OF AGE GAP!READER!! I BEG YOU

She’s so amazing!!

Bruce shouldered the door open and smiled a little, being bankable had it's perks.

You hadn't even finished the script yet and you had notes. And judging from the way you were scowling as you scribbled them down, this would not be a project you'd be willing to take. Not unless they agreed to pay you an absurd sum of money and a ridiculous list of demands.

Not that he could blame you. You'd been working since you were hardly potty trained. "Home schooled" to make more time for singing, dancing, and acting lessons. Cries on Cue used to be in bold on your resume... You'd been around the block a few times.

"Not a winner?" he hummed kissing the top of your head.

"If I get sent one more script about a poor tragic little waif with daddy issues who just needs to be loved, I quit," you groan.

"But you look so cute dressed like a bad girl in a leather jacket," he snorted.

"Brucie," you purr, letting him tug you onto the arm of his chair and tossing the offending script aside, "if you want me to dress up for you all you have to do is ask."

He stroked your back and just let himself breathe for a second. To soak up the early evening sun and coming home to his wife. "I'd rather have you dressed down," he murmured. "Nothing but jewelry and-"

"I'm going to run out of room in my jewelry box," you tease. "If you keep buying me new jewelry instead of lingerie."

"True," he hummed, kissing you hello properly. "But it just looks so good on you."

You shake your head and lay your head on his shoulder. The first time you'd just worn diamonds for him it had been... well frankly you'd not planned to sleep with him that night. And the bra and panties you'd picked just HAD NOT fit the mood. But it turned out, stepping back out to the deck of his yacht wearing only your jewelry and heels had... done the trick. Ever since then, the man had been obsessed. No pricey lace, silk, or velvet ever made him quite as... malleable. It was cute. "There might be something to the leather jacket," you muse.

"You could wear burlap and be gorgeous," he assured you, stroking your thigh. "But god, you just- the way you look when you do that for me."

His fingers dug into your thigh and you snuggle closer, absently kissing his neck. "I'm just responding to you-"

He chuckled, resting his head on top of yours. He liked when you clung to him a little. The way you wanted to feel safe- the way he made you feel safe. "You're such a sweet girl," he purred. "You love me so much."

"And you love me?" you ask him, raising your head and stroking his jaw, savoring the rasp of the stubble.

"I do," he answered, kissing your nose. "So much."

And your slow, spreading smile had the same effect now that it did the first time he'd seen it. When he'd told you that you really should do more serious projects. All you ever wanted from him was him. And the rightness of it made him grateful that he finally found you.

[delqcate]

hi angel!!! im aware of how super busy you are rn, but I can't get like frenemies scott barringer and reader out of my head, imagine it, like he's so annoyed by everything she does, she's the total opposite of him, sweet and kind, but also the sarcastic angry feminist, and he's the self-righteous football captain arsehole.

But no matter what he does, she's constantly stuck in his head, and it's kinda like the song "you look so pretty, pretty like the sun, i could watch forever while you shine on everyone" and he's so in love and a little insecure, which he covers up with this pompous arrogant fboy persona

anyways, you're writing gives me life more than anything! when i first discovered your flannel shirt fic on scott, i became obsessed and stalked your profile and obsessively read through all your fanfics, hayden characters or not, I read them all, and im head over heels in love w u :) you genuinely write the best fluff ever, like your my favourite blog for fluff, like don't get me wrong smut is cute and that, but god i would kill for some forehead kisses and hayden fluff

because i love you.

scott barringer x reader

anon you own my whole heart ilysm!!! you're soso incredibly sweet and being your favorite fluff writer??? such an incredible honor 🥹 i'm sorry it took me a while to get to writing this and i feel so bad cause i feel like i just didn't have enough inspiration for this so it's all messy but I hope it's still good. scott and shelby don't get together here but they're still good friends

summary: you and scott don't necessarily hate each other, but you can't tolerate both that much either. after a plan gone wrong, turns out there's a reason why.

warnings/cw: swearing, kissing (i don't know if that's warnings but yeah), fluff fluff fluff

word count: 1.9k

Where does Scott even begin with you? The Cliffhanger's sweetheart, the epitome of the sun in this hell hole, is his friend. Well, sort of.

Because every time he was near you, it felt like he was constantly basking in the sun, yet at the same time, he was warmed up by everything you did, from your smile to your voice. It was almost like he was constantly taunted.

He couldn't get enough of you, though. You were everything he's ever wanted—the warmth and love of another—and yet he still seems to be pushing you away.

But then that all changes when a little surprise is left on one of the class boards one morning when Scott and the other Cliffhangers are called to meet up with Peter and Sophie.

Scott walks into the classroom, wearing a sweater he just threw on due to the cold, and looks at the board in confusion. "Morp? Wh-what's a morp?" His brow was furrowed, and he frankly didn't care too much about decoding it until Auggie followed from behind him. "Oh, cool, a prom?"

Scott looks at Auggie, realizing everyone else is inside already. His eyes land on you, and he suddenly can't focus on anything but you. Everyone was taking a seat, and it took him a moment to realize you sat with him until a hand waved at his face.

"Scott, y'there?" Your voice rings out, and he looks at you, his face brooding as always. "Why? What's up?" He clears his throat and focuses his gaze on you. Despite hating you, he seems to be interested in what you have to say. Probably just sucking it up so it would be over.

You look at him, and suddenly you find yourself drawn to his eyes. Do they seem more blue than usual lately, or have they always been this way? But you don't have time to ponder about that because now it’s his turn to snap you out of your thoughts.

"Hey, are you there?" He gives you a small smirk, and you playfully roll your eyes. “Yeah, sorry,” you say, clearing your throat and resting your head on your palm. “Sophie and Peter paired us for morp planning.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he immediately covers them up with his emotionless stare again. “Why us? ," he asks, sounding annoyed. “Dunno,” you reply. “Probably ‘to build a stronger relationship between us’,” you say, playfully mocking what Peter constantly tells everyone whenever there’s a team activity.

He let out a soft scoff but couldn't help but let a smirk form on his lips. He was starting to let his guard down, something he rarely does around people; besides Shelby, she relates to him more than anyone. "Yeah, all that bullshit."

You nod and chuckle, watching as he bounces his leg, a habit you share with him. "All we have to do is plan the music, so it shouldn't be too bad. They're letting us use Peter's office and a couple more gadgets, I think." You shrug, but all you could think of was Scott.

Spending time alone with him in a room for days on end sounded both eventful and terrifying. But at least it was him instead of anyone else; at least you could get some peace and quiet for once.

————————————————————————

It had been days since you and Scott were assigned to make the playlist, and despite the bickering and constant grogginess you two would feel the next day, it was bearable. It caused something in Scott to brew—something he thought he could keep in, but it was just waiting to burst.

Scott dragged Shelby away to a corner in the common room—not the best place to have a private conversation, but it'll do.

"Let me guess," Shelby starts, her gaze landing on Ophelia talking to Peter and back at Scott. "You need advice to ask her out?" Scott scrunches up his face, annoyed but thinking about it. "Well, yeah," he says after a moment.

She chuckles and looks over at you again, trying to think of anything. "Morp's tomorrow, Scott. How are you sure Auggie or someone else asked her out?" Scott suddenly seemed upset at the thought, however. "You think Auggie has more of a chance than me?" His angry question was a little too loud, loud enough to catch your attention, at least.

Shelby quickly looks away and narrows her eyes at Scott, slapping his arm playfully. "Will you keep it down, you idiot?" He whines and leans against the wall, crossing his arms and staring at you from afar. "How am I ever going to ask her out? I'm just the cocky football star, a pompous asshole fuckboy. Every bad thing you could think of."

She sighs and moves closer, taking his hand and watching his expression before continuing, "Sure, you can be a complete asshole." He scoffs and looks at the floor. "Great way to start that off," he muttered. She rolls her eyes and continues with, "But all that matters is what they think of you. You wanna go all out and be stupid with your promposal? Go ahead. I'll be there every stupid step in the way."

He moves his gaze on her and mutters, "Stop calling me stupid. But, thanks."

————————————————————————

The plan was perfect. You and Shelby would be hanging out together, saying some good stuff about Scott, and Scott would play football with Auggie. Auggie would throw the ball at you, and he would save you. He would tie that to some smooth way to ask you out, but he would worry about that later. What was the worst that could happen?

Scott watches nervously as Shelby and you sit at the bleachers, taking a deep breath as Shelby discreetly nods and Scott starts to play. Your gaze moves to Scott, and a small smile grows on your face. Seeing Scott play football was cute to you. Despite being an ex-football captain, he still never lost his love for the sport, and you admire him for that.

Shelby notices your stare and chuckles, looking at Scott and back at you. "You eyeing Scott?" Your cheeks heat up and your eyes land on her, shaking your head as your face gets all flushed up. "No- well yeah, but not in that way! He's my friend; I just want to watch him."

Your gaze moves back to the two boys playing, and you swear you saw Scott wink at you, but maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you; he probably got something in his eye.

But you didn't even have time to think because the football started flying towards you, and Scott's amazing plan came crashing down as soon as the ball hit him right in the face.

"Scott!" You yell out and rush down to him with Shelby. He lets out a loud groan and covers his face. He's never felt so much pain and embarrassment before. "Auggie, fuck!" He groans out. "I didn't mean to, I- I'm sorry!" Auggie frowns and looks at the two, watching as you take Scott into your arms and prop your leg up for him to rest on.

"Shit- Scott, move your hand." You frown and try to move his hand, watching as a crowd of people form, someone rushing to grab Peter. Scott whines and shakes his head, saying something about how it really hurt, but it's muffled from his hands.

"C'mon, please? I swear the pain will be gone soon; I need to see how bad it is." You were trying to stay calm for the both of you, and after a moment, he moves his hands away to reveal a bleeding nose and some tears.

You wince and help him stand up. With the help of Shelby and Auggie, you guys safely bring him to the girls rooms and onto your bed, hurrying off to the bathroom while the two find something that could help Scott besides a wet rag.

You return to him on the bed and move his hand away. A small hiss escapes you, and you start to clean him up. The silence was killing you after a while, so you mumbled out, "That was stupid, y'know?"

He looks at you with an annoyed expression and scoffs, trying not to move too much as you clean his nose and check if it is broken. "Well, I'm sorry for saving your life," he says sarcastically, clearly upset that you didn't appreciate him saving you. Maybe his plan was just stupid.

"I mean, I appreciate it, but look at you now." You frown and place the rag on your side table, grabbing some tissues to clean the spot better. "Why'd you do it? Ruin your oh-so-perfect face for me?" He smirks and looks at you. "You like my face, huh?" You roll your eyes, and he lets out a small laugh as you punch his arm.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it." He lets his laughter die down and listens to the two of you breathing. It calmed him down to hear your breath, especially because he definitely needed to calm down. He took a deep breath and calmly let out, "Because I love you."

You stop your arm and move your gaze from his nose to his gaze, which was locked onto yours. You couldn't tell if it was because he was frozen in embarrassment or because he wanted to show you he really meant it; either way, it left you shocked.

How does he like you? He's made it very clear that he has some hatred towards you , so it didn't make sense. "But the way you act around me—" he quickly interrupted you. "It's because I'm insecure." He sighs and looks down at his hands, feeling the embarrassment creep up on him.

"You're just so- so gorgeous. You make everyone smile and laugh; it's like the goddamn sun. You shine so bright, and I can't help but feel this jealousy towards you because everyone gets to experience all of that." Although he didn't outright say it, it was clear to you that he was jealous, and it was incredibly adorable.

You let out a soft laugh, and at first he thought you were laughing at him, but a small smile formed on his lips when he realized you were laughing with him. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I feel like I shine brighter when I'm with you. You make me sparkle, I guess."

He chuckles and moves a little closer, sensing the change in tension, and he was sure you did too because you moved closer. "Sparkle, huh? What are you, a vampire?" He smirks and wraps his arm around you, making you roll your eyes and cup his cheek. "Just shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, ma'am." He smirks wider and kisses you gently, immediately crash-landing into heaven as soon as he feels your lips. They were soft and felt heavenly, just like he imagined. The kiss grew deeper but didn't last too long as someone threw a box of bandages at them.

Scott pulls away in annoyance but quickly gets flustered as soon as he sees Shelby and Auggie; he completely forgets they were coming back. "Congratulations, lovebirds!" Shelby smirks and moves her gaze between Scott and you. "But do us all a favor and get a room, will you?"

You let out a small chuckle and quickly helped Scott clean up, hearing the pair's footsteps as they headed outside. Despite both of you being complete opposites, Something told you it would all work out in the long run.

taglist: none!

[mediumgayitalian]

The infirmary door creaks slightly as Nico pushes it open, wood swollen in the summer heat. He freezes, listening for the sound of angry curfew harpies, but luckily there don’t seem to be any around (they tend to camp around the Hermes cabin, understandably).

The infirmary is much darker than it usually is, letting the three or four people in it overnight rest. Some softer lights are on at the nurse’s station, making the blonde head under them glow. Nico pads forward, steps a practiced silence on the clay tiles. He can’t see if Will has his hearing aids on under his hair; he probably does, because Nico can’t imagine him on duty without them. Either way, he makes sure to approach the medic from in front, tapping the counter when he’s close enough. Will doesn’t startle, only glances up, flashing a smile — he heard.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greets.

Nico rolls his eyes, firmly holding back the smile that tries to force its way on his face. “Hey.”

“Nightmares?”

Surprisingly, no, although maybe that’s just because Nico couldn’t fall asleep at all. After the third hour of trying — which was, frankly, remarkable, he should get an award for staying in his bed the entire time like the Mature Person He Is — he gave up, figuring he might as well put all his annoyance to good use. And Will, for some reason, is endlessly amused by Nico’s complaining, so it’s his personal mission to make the stubborn boy crack. One day, gods help him, Nico will turn that usually sunny grin into a scowl, just so he can make an irritating Apollo-related comment about it.

(He’s hoping for the same eye twitch he gets when he attempts any ‘Underworld-y stuff’).

“Something like that.”

Will hums, but doesn’t press. After a minute he gestures to the spinny chair behind the nurse’s station. Nico takes the hint, ducking through the half-door and sitting on the old leather.

He likes the infirmary at night. Maybe it’s a strange place for him to find so much peace — ghosts often linger here, many of them pained, and it always smells of rubbing alcohol and eucalyptus — but he likes it anyway. It’s less visually sterile than a hospital, more akin to an apothecary, and the whole place always feels warm. Will’s off-tune humming echoes quietly as he works, mixing with the soft snores of the few patients and the repetitive grinding sound of whatever poultice he’s currently preparing. If Nico wasn’t so randomly wired, the sounds would lull him to sleep. They have before.

“Prepping for tomorrow,” Will explains when he catches Nico looking. Some of the softness on his face fades as he tightens his jaw. “I’m sure we’ll need it.”

Nico uncurls slightly from the armchair, peering curiously forward. He’s not sure what’s more intriguing — whatever healing magic Will is prepping, or the uncharacteristic bitterness in Will’s voice.

“…Need what?”

“Everything.”

“Oh, well, thank you, that clears things up nicely.”

Will snorts. His grip on the mortar loosens.

“C’mere, then, I’ll show you.”

When Nico is close enough, he sets down the pestle, revealing very fine, almost bleach-white powder.

“Shells,” he reveals, pointing to several still-whole ones. He smiles slightly. “It’s the kids’ job to gather ingredients, and this is probably their favourite. They’ll play with the naiads for hours to get enough, Gracie’s always tuckered right out after.”

Nico matches his small smile. Gracie, Will’s youngest sibling, is a cute kid, obsessed with mermaids. He imagines collecting seashells from the Greek version of mermaids is practically a dream come true.

“What’re the shells for?”

“They’re pure calcium carbonate, basically. Good for dyspepsia, which won’t help for capture the flag, but also good for caustic burns, which will.”

Nico nods. He has, for some reason, spent enough time around the apothecary to pick up more than a few medical terms – largely because Will talks like he swallowed a pre-med textbook, which isn’t that far off from reality.

“Why use shells, though?” He gestures to the powder Will is still crushing, even though Nico can’t imagine it getting any finer. “Why not just have Chiron order the stuff? It’d probably be easier.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t work as well.” Apparently finally satisfied with the crushed shells, Will tips the powder out into a much bigger bowl, then sets it aside. He carefully selects six of the whole shells and begins to crush them – Nico winces, because the first few cracks are much louder than he was expected in such a quiet room. “Whatever Chiron ordered would be crushed by machines, in a factory, probably made from chalk or limestone. It would still function as an antacid, sure, but –” Will pauses for a minute, facing Nico fully. His voice is softer, and he has to lean in to catch it. “Seashells held living beings. For years, they were homes. Maybe for an entire lifetime. And they were gifted, willingly, by spirits of the sea, and then crushed by human hands. At least three exchanges. There’s magic in that, and that makes them more powerful.”

As Will crushes the new shells, Nico steps up beside him, reaching into the larger bowl and digging into the powdered carbonate. The granules are finer than sand, fine as sugar – he buries his hands in them and concentrates, and in seconds he can feel the tiny remnants of spirits in them. Not souls – there is no human death lingering here – but thousands and thousands of fractured pieces of something that was once living. His arms tingle, goosebumps raising all over his flesh.

“Huh.”

Will grins. “Yep.”

Nico watches him out of the corner of his eye as he works. He is totally focused on his work, face slacking again as he sinks into the motions of it: twist, twist, scrape, check grain size; over and over, again and again. His arms must ache. It’s something like three in the morning, he’s been on duty since ten. Nico knows him too well to assume he’s been sitting idly for any of that time.

“Why don’t you ever play capture the flag?” he asks, surprising himself. He’s not usually one to break silences. Will tenses slightly beside him, and the rest of the words come tumbling out of his mouth, although he was unaware he’d been holding them in so tightly. “I mean, you’re always on shift. I know you’re in here a lot, but you like training, usually. Especially stuff where you get to run around. I would’ve guessed that –”

“I know that capture the flag is important,” Will interrupts. His hands have gone still. Nico snaps his mouth shut immediately. “Obviously. Everyone needs to keep their skills sharp.” His presses his lips together. A particularly loud snore from one of the patients makes them both look over, and it’s a long time before he speaks again.

“But I don’t like when we play war against each other,” he says. He turns to Nico and smiles humourlessly. “I know it’s dumb. But it just feels…I dunno. I’ve treated the injuries after the fact for years – too many of them aren’t accidents. Besides, I’m more help here, anyway. Chiron’s a field medic, anything more serious will need the infirmary.”

He abruptly turns back to crushing the shells, clearly ending the conversation. He has also begun humming again – aggressively and upbeat. The tension is gone from his shoulders, but his knuckles are white against the grip of the pestle.

He is not telling the full truth, Nico thinks. Will is a bad liar. All Apollo kids are, but Will especially – he squirms.

But Will is his friend. And Nico can take a hint – or maybe a silent begging to drop it.

“What time does your shift end?” Nico asks. “Six?”

Will slumps in relief, shooting him a genuine smile. “Yeah. Austin’s taking over for the morning while I sleep, then I’m back again at 2, just before the game starts.”

“I’ll stay up with you, then.”

“Absolutely not, doctor’s orders, Nico, you need to sleep –”

Nico places his hands over Will’s shaking ones, fleeting. His stomach erupts in a way he’s learned to ignore. The tremor in the medic’s hands finally stills, grip loosening.

“I’ll stay up with you.”

“Yeah,” Will says finally, starting the pestle up again. “I guess that’s fine.”

———

part two

[pedgito]

Hii omg i just discovered you account and I’m obsessed with you writing 🖤

I have a request if that’s okay

Something like reader has this big crush (kinda obsession lol) with Eddie she’s always looking at him, going to the Hideout every tuesday to watch him perform and buys him weed but she doesn’t actually smokes and eddie notices that and thinks is cute so, so when she meets him in the woods to buy weed eddies like “i know you aint smoking that, why dont you tell me what you really want from me? Why dont you just ask me yo fuck you” or something like that 😩

author’s note: full disclaimer, i'm so sleep deprived on nyquil from how sick i've been, so this will either be really good smut, or complete disjointed and all over the place, either way, i hope it's not too horrible lol

cw: 18+ (minors dni), pining!reader (but also eddie too), god complex!eddie (if you squint) fingering/sex in the back of his van, lots of teasing, protected sex!! (i know, such a shocker coming from me), i'm probably missing something so just lmk!

word count: 5k

You didn’t think it was the best idea, but it made the most sense. Buy the weed, talk to Eddie, offer it up to some stoner willing to pay the same price—it had been seamless, almost too easy, and Eddie never seemed to question it either, despite the fact that you were as clean-cut and proper as it got, you’ve never been around anyone while they were smoking weed, let alone do it yourself. The prospect was terrifying, fear that you might lose control over your body and thoughts, end up being one of the people that experienced terrible highs—so you steered clear of actually trying it for yourself. Besides, it was the only excuse it gave you to talk to Eddie.

It wasn’t that he fully ignored you—you still had classes together, passed each other in the hall on occasion, but you both ran in completely different groups, which didn't leave much room to get to know each other or even have a normal conversation. 

You wouldn’t call it obsession, either—because Eddie seemed as intrigued to talk to you as you were to him—you were an enigma he couldn’t figure out, so many mysteries wrapped up into one, he was dying to figure you out. And sometimes your friends like to sneak over to The Hideout, it’s not the first, second, or even third choice of hangout spots on your list—but Eddie performs weekly, every Tuesday night, it was a highlight of what was usually a very dreary, miserable day. You tried hard not to be noticed, always shoving yourself in the furthest corner of the bar, the lights dimmer near the back, which helped obscure your face—though Eddie, he spotted you the moment you walked in, every time, but you didn’t need to know that. 

It goes on for weeks, nearly three months into the beginning of your senior year—and Eddie’s third go at it, until he feels the itch, the nerve, just to say something. He doesn’t really know what to expect of it, but he’s curious. Eddie doesn’t understand why you’re always so skittish or nervous around him, keeping a few feet away, but staring at him like there was nothing more important on your mind—you had the prettiest smile, which Eddie had been on the receiving end of more than a few times. He just wanted to know more about you—and why you thought buying weed from him was your only option; frankly, you were taking away from his business in some form, buying a hefty amount with no real use, he could’ve been dragging in new customers with that merchandise, but you disposed of it like nothing. Eddie was challenged in some form, unable to focus and pass his classes like the rest of his classmates, but he wasn’t dumb—you didn’t reek of weed, not like most of the people he sold to, you always agreed with what he offered, never arguing on price or strains—you had no idea what you were doing, it was so blatantly obvious. Eddie tried to play it off as long as he could, but it hit him one day—nestled on the edge of the picnic table, feet dangling just above the freshly fallen leaves, the dried foliage cracking beneath your feet.

“I’m gonna have to start giving you discounts,” Eddie comments jokingly, a slight hint of teasing in his voice as passes you the small sandwich sized bag of weed, dangling it in front of you, “you’re drilling through my product with these weekly meetups.”

“Sorry,” You reply lamely, grabbing the baggie and shoving it into your pocket quickly, shoving your other hand into the pocket to match, yanking your jacket over your middle as you talked to him, insecure of his openly he looked at you—it was like he could see right through you, “I guess I can buy less, if it’s really a problem.”

“No, no,” Eddie stammers, hands shaking out in front of him, he turns around to fiddle with the items in his chest—a mess of different items: papers for rolling, more weed, a lighter, and a fat wad of cash. You were completely out of your element with him, all the time, “—you know, since you’re such a loyal customer, I was thinking—“

“What?” You reply eagerly, forgetting self control for a moment, face blushing a deep red, cheeks burning like you’d just stood over a fire.

Eddie laughs softly, reaching in to pull a joint between his fingers—new and untouched. He’s got a look on his face, like he’s about to engage in a dangerous game, ready to pull you down with him. It’s terrifying, but you’re nearly on your tiptoes now, shifting awkwardly in the silence—maybe you should run. 

Instead, you stay, “I was gonna offer you a freebie.” Eddie admits, placing the joint between his soft, pink lips, flicking at the lighter with difficulty—he hits the bottom a few times, still nothing. The calluses on his fingers were a pain in the ass and he wants to put you on the spot, seeing if you crack under the pressure. It’s the perfect opportunity. “Do you mind?” He asks, voice muffled around the joint in his mouth.

You nod hesitantly, pulling the lighter from his grip gently—it wasn’t the first time you’ve ever held a lighter, you weren’t that clueless, but to try and think of a way out of this situation, it seemed impossible. You flick the lighter a few times, the flame finally coming to life, Eddie leans forward slowly, letting the end burn until it smokes, inhaling quickly. You make a subtle move back, pressing the lighter into his hand. You squint, the haze of smoke hitting your face. It makes your eyes water and your nose burn, you hate it. The appeal was never apparent to you—and you didn’t judge Eddie, but it always seemed so pointless to you, throwing away money for a temporary high. 

“Here,” Eddie says roughly, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment, breathing out as you took the joint from his fingers, “—it’s good shit, I promise.”

You pluck it delicately, held between your thumb and pointer finger—it’s so close, maybe you could just fake it, but now Eddie’s staring at you, waiting. You’re scrambling for a reason to weasel your way out of this. 

“I, uh—I can’t, Eddie.” You tell him softly, passing the joint his way, “My parents will know, I can’t just go home smelling like that.”

He stifles the laugh at your choice of words, the irony so relevant.

“I can smell the weed I gave you from your pocket,” Eddie points out, “how do you explain that?”

“I leave it in my bag—and then I move it, I don’t keep it in the house.” You explain weakly. Your heart is hammering in your chest, the sound of blood rushing and pounding in your ears. 

“How often do you smoke then?” Eddie asks curiously, trying to seem less abrasive with his questions. He wants to catch you in your lie, but he doesn’t want to scare you away.

He’s always been intrigued with, infatuated—he didn’t want you running in the other direction. 

You didn’t know what sounded believable, so you settled on, “Uh—every other day, sometimes twice on the weekends.”

That bag was enough weed to last anyone a month, as long as they didn’t overindulge. Eddie pushed in further, pointing out the slight inconsistency.

“Oh—because I usually only give that much to the real, real heavy smokers—they smoke at least twice a day, every day, and it still takes them a couple weeks to move through that much product.”

And if you heart couldn’t physically drop to your stomach, it still definitely felt like it.

“Uh, it’s—uh,” You try desperately to recover, “I share with friends too, so it goes pretty quick.”

“Aren’t you generous?” Eddie teases, having smoked through nearly half the joint by now, “Your nerdy little friends? The one’s in that book club?”

It was a soft jab, a pot calling the kettle black.

“It’s not nerdy,” You defend passionately, “you literally play D&D. That’s not fair.”

The squeak in your voice has Eddie smiling behind the joint, appreciating just how fiery you could be. 

“Why do you even care?” You ask, frustrated with him, it felt like he was picking on you for no reason. 

Eddie sighs softly, “I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” He stresses out, hoping you’ll relax, he sees your shoulders settle and takes that as a sign, “I’m just trying to figure you out—we talk a lot in passing, but I barely know you.”

It’s all your fault, your shyness, your innate fear of being caught in your lies—they were harmless, but it still felt wrong.

“It’s okay.” You tell him quietly, hands fisted in your pockets in tight balls of frustration. 

Eddie laughs to himself, nodding for you to take a seat on the bench, you're hesitant but listen anyways, taking whatever bait he is offering. If you weren’t going to fess up, Eddie was going to drop his knowledge of it to you and wait for your reaction—it could go horribly, but it was worth the risk. It wasn't like he couldn’t notice the way stared at his lips every time he took a drag from the joint, or how he licked his chapped lips frequently, chewed at his bottom one out of habit; you were mesmerized. 

“I wanna show you something,” He explains, squeezing in beside you, the rough material of his jeans rubbing against the outside of your leg, the prickle of the wood digging into your thighs where your dress didn’t cover, he grabs his supplies and sets the rolling paper out, a small bagging already ground up weed that was ready to go, and makes a small motion with his hand, “but I wanna see how well you do it first.”

“Eddie—“ You panic, glancing between him and the items in front of you. You didn’t have the slightest clue how to roll a joint, you wouldn’t even know where to start, Eddie looks at you pointedly, eyebrows raised slightly in question, “—I, uh—“

Eddie moves silently, grabbing the supplies for himself, working quickly and expertly, like he’d done it a million times. It’s surprisingly fascinating, eyes locked on his tongue as it pokes out to seal the paper together, his eyes flicking to your momentarily.

He set it down gently, hand curled up on the table as he looked at you, other hand resting against his thigh, he fiddled with his rings with the pad of his thumb, letting the silence linger for a moment.

Then finally, “You've never smoked before,” Eddie deduces, smirk crawling up his face, “have you?”

You shake your head slightly in defeat, his fingers curl against the denim, he is desperately holding back, your wide eyes staring up at him. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to buy weed to talk to me.”

And if you weren’t dying of embarrassment before, you were now.

“That’s—that’s not,” You fumble with your words, trying to find some kind of remark or comeback, or just explain yourself—nothing ever comes.

“What’s the real reason?” Eddie’s turned toward you now, leg swung over the bench so he’s straddling it, facing you’re curled in body, still struggling to keep your distance, jacket hugged right around your midsection. 

“My friend’s are scared of you,” You admit, eyes turned down toward the table, “—I had to find a way to talk to you without seeming obvious.”

Oh, it was very obvious. Eddie doesn’t want to strike you while you’re down though, so he keeps that to himself. 

“So, you like me?” He teases, nudging your arm with the soft touch of his knuckle, smiling sweetly at you. If your heart wasn’t already pounding out of your chest, it was definitely going to burst if he kept looking at you like that. 

You shrug indifferently—you weren’t sure of what your feelings were; curiosity, yes—the idea of trying not to obtain something seemed impossible, it was intriguing, to say the least, and it wasn’t like you were immune to all the rumors about Eddie. People constantly talked about him around school—either hateful or downright rude, but there were a few that talked about him like he was god personified—you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself religious, but it wasn’t going to stop you from finding out how true those rumors were.

“Like is a strong word,” You laugh slightly, crossing your left leg over your right, shoes shifting together under the table. You felt a few raindrops hit your shoulder, pulling you both from the intense conversation, “—I should probably go.”

“Wait—“ Eddie stops you, grasping the wrist of the hand that was still shoved firmly in your pocket, “—don’t go.”

And against every fiber of your being, you nod, letting him lead you down a path you weren’t sure you’d be able to feel remorse over.

“Why do you park so far away from the school?” You ask randomly, letting him drag you along the way, feet desperate to keep up with his wide strides. 

“Principal Higgins would skin my ass if he found out I was smoking on campus in the mornings,” Eddie explains, glancing back at your briefly as he reaches to open the rear of his van, giving you a full view of the back—it was surprisingly unmessy, aside from a few empty cans of beer and some suspiciously wadding up pieces of tissues and magazine pages, it wasn’t unwelcome—though, it reeked of weed and cigarettes, “—well, here’s my home away from home—trailer, whatever.”

Your parents would surely kill you if you went home smelling like either of those. 

Eddie leans inside, allowing you to crawl underneath the bridge his arm made, pointedly avoiding the opportunity for him to look up your dress, turning on your backside to scoot in beneath him—he looks mostly unphased, maybe you were reading into this too much. It could just be an innocent gesture to get to know you, altering motives aside—not that you would mind; you were hoping for it, selfishly enough.

You strip off your jacket once you’re seated, feet crossed out in front of you as you lay your jacket over your lap. Eddie closes the doors with a rough tug, nearly knocking himself on his ass, before finally taking a seat across from you, let’s outstretched around your own, one foot planted against the floorboard to allow him to rest a hand on his knee. 

“So—what did you want to—“ You start, quickly interrupted by Eddie motioning you over, you hesitate for a moment, debating whether or not it was worth it—your body moves on its own accord though, pushing up with your fingertips until you’re crawling toward him, breast peeking through the fabric that hung down. Eddie didn’t avert his gaze, though you’re almost positive his eyes are solely locked in yours, heated and intense as he stared you down, face still holding every bit of its softness.

You shift to sit beside him, but his hand comes up to stop you, “Come here,” His voice is soft, pleasing—like he knows what you want, it’s exactly what he needs, he’s more than willing to give you whatever you were hoping for, “right here.” He instructs, watching as you hesitantly swung your leg over his thigh, his left shifting down to accommodate room for you, the back of your thighs settling against the top of his, dress flowing out over his jeans, covering all the rips and holes that showed off his pale skin.

Eddie’s hands slip over the fabric of your dress gently, testing his boundaries, still holding his gaze on your face, “Why don’t you tell me what you really want?” He asks with a hint of knowing to his voice—he just wanted to hear you say it. “No more lies—or buying weed off of me for no reason.”

You put petulantly, shoulders falling slack as you watched his hands travel further up your dress, settling on your waist, the heat of his hands seeping through the thin cotton material, he squeezed gently, you gasped, “I’ve heard…things.” It’s a lame response, but it’s all you can manage.

“Things?” Eddie mocks, fingers coming around to fiddle with the tie on your dress, only lingering and never pulling, he wouldn’t take that step unless you allowed him.

“Girls talk about—you—and how good you are at,” His ringed fingers slip under the string, pulling against the strings, “stuff—like, with sex and all that.”

Eddie chuckles darkly, pulling a hand away to tilt your head up to look at him, rubbing tenderly at the skin of your jaw, “Sweetheart, if you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask.”

If only it were that easy—you’d never be bold enough to say it, not without a heavy amount of coercion, and a lot of teasing, it seemed pathetic to say it so simply—part of you enjoyed the game he was playing at. 

“I’m not like that,” You confess, “—too scared.”

Eddie nods slightly, “Too shy,” He notes, thumb dragging along your pursed lips, pulling them apart gently, “that’s okay.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” You laugh nervously, “I still—still think you’re really cute,” You admit, “and you’re so nice to me—“

“An adorable girl who buys all my weed and will do anything to talk to me?” Eddie asks redundantly, “I’d be stupid not to be.”

Eddie takes a moment, breaking the heated facade, “Say—what have you been doing with all the weed?”

You wonder if you should lie, deciding if it’s worth confessing over—but it seemed like everything was already being laid bare, “Uh, this guy—his name is Rick. I sold it to him really cheap, I just wanted to get rid of it.”

“Rick?” Eddie questions like he wants you to elaborate.

“Always smells like weed, looks kinda homeless—he hangs out behind the Rec center near my house.” You tell him honestly, and Eddie can feel the proverbial light bulb switching on in his head.

“You’re selling weed back to Reefer Rick?” He asks with a slight hint of incredulousness in his voice—it bordered on betrayal.

“I—I don’t know who he is!” You say defensively, “He didn’t seem sketchy or anything—did I do something wrong?”

“No—it’s just—“ Eddie laughs at the ridiculousness of it all, “—I’m not selling you anymore weed, sweetheart.”

“That’s fair,” You say on a small sigh, “stuff is gross anyways.”

“And you’re sitting on the lap of Hawkins second biggest pothead,” Eddie challenges, “so what does that say about you?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try you,” You reply boldly, voice still too soft and innocent, “—it’s not the same, you know.”

Eddie pulls his bottom lip between his teeth slowly, like he’s struggling to hold off whatever is eating at him, eyes half lidded and staring straight through you. 

“Tell me what you want.” Eddie demands slowly, other hand joining your face, adjusting your head until it’s locked between his grip, assuring you tell him directly rather than to your lap.

“I want you to touch me.” You admit shyly, his face pulling up in a smile

“I am touching you.” He points out; the smartass he’s known to be. “Show me.”

Shaky hands pull at his fingers, curling around his open palm until his hand is settled under your dress, pressed against the sticky, wet material of your underwear—there is no reason to feel shame now, not with the full grin that spreads across his face.

“I knew it.” He snarls, fingers rubbing soft circles into the material, the cold press of the fabric making you squirm, “How long?”

“How long?” You repeat, confused at his questioning.

“Since you’ve been touched.” He clarifies.

“A few months,” You tell him, “I had this thing back in the summer—whatever, it doesn’t really matter—“

Eddie laughs at you rambling, an attempt to settle your rattled nerves. “It’s fine—I was just gonna say you’re really wet—I’ve never, never touched a girl for the first time and had it feel like that,” He tells you honestly, “it takes time—god, can’t believe I could’ve had you all this time.”

“All this time?” 

“You really think it was all one-sided?” Eddie asks, “Sweetheart—I’ve known for weeks that you weren’t smoking that weed.”

“I guess I wasn’t very smart about it.”

Eddie shakes his head in amusement, “Doesn’t matter—we’re here now. Can I touch you?”

“You are.”

“Not how I want to.”

Your eyes widen at his admission, nodding shakily in response. His hand slipped under the fabric of your panties, one large finger running down your folds, ghosting over your already sensitive clit, dipping his finger inside of you instantly, a sharp gasp ripping from your chest as you gripped his shoulders, leaning forward slightly at the sudden intrusion.

Eddie looks up at you, your mouth hanging open slightly as he works his finger inside of you slowly, “Can I?” He asks, mouth parted slightly as he looks down toward your breasts, soft skin peeking out the top of your dress.

You nod fervently, exasperated by his constant polite questioning. “Eddie—stop asking, just do it.”

“Just wanna be sure.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want it—all of it.” You tell him honestly, “Plus, it’s ruining the whole—thing everyone says about you.”

“Thing?” He laughs softly, mouthing over your breasts.

“They—they say you’re like—I don’t know,” You feign the importance of it, it doesn’t really matter, “that you’re a god—with, you know.”

“A god?” Eddie teases, testing the word on his tongue, taking a small nip at your chest, your breath catching, “You think I’m a god?”

“Not me,” You shake your head, “it’s just what I’ve heard.”

“But, I’m sure you thought about it—so be honest with me.”

You sigh, shoving his face against your breasts to muffle his endless rant, “Jury’s still out—we’ll see.”

Eddie hums against your skin, dragging his tongue through the valley of your breasts, somehow having worked another finger inside you without you noticing, so caught in staring at his mouth that it’s an afterthought, but then he’s curling his fingers and you can’t do anything but moan, head falling back in anguish, your stomach tightening at the sensation.

“Condoms?” Eddie asks hopefully, he could feel his cock straining painfully against the line of his zipper, he was sure you felt it too, he wanted nothing more than to relieve that ache. 

“Oh, fuck—no, I don’t have any.” You say with deep regret, wishing you had thought ahead, had some type of courage that you could turn things into more, but no—and now here you were. 

“Wait—“ Eddie yelps, pulling back from your chest, “—passenger side, under the dash,” He points in that direction, removing his hand gently to allow you to scramble toward the front of the van, yanking open the compartment to find two dust covered foil packets.

“God—these things have to be a hundred years old,” You complain, grabbing at the items and returning to Eddie, tossing them into his lap, “are we sure that’s safe?”

Eddie takes a hesitant look, nodding gleefully as he reads the black print, “Thank god—they’re still good for a few months.” You look at him with narrowed eyes, wondering why he had such a decrepitated pair stashed away.

“We got them during one of those safe sex classes,” He says defensively, “better safe than tied down with a kid, right?”

He had a point—plus, you were more than eager to move things along.

You reach for the tie of your dress, struggling to find the string at this ankle, Eddie noticed, “Hey, don’t worry about—“ He says soothingly, “just take your underwear off—they’re already soaked to nothing anyways.”

“God—shut up,” You reply lightheartedly, stripping yourself of the garment before returning to his lap, watching as he pulled himself out of his pants in hurry, red leaking tip screaming for relief, holding the shaft firmly in his hand while he ripped at the foil with his teeth, grabbing the rubber and throwing the trash to the side.

“Wait—“ You interrupt, pointing at the condom in between his teeth, “can I?”

Normally he’d find it weird, but it was the ultimate turn on when it came from you—curious hands and curious minds, he couldn’t deny you that.

“I’ve just—never,” Most guys refused to wear condoms, so it was kind of fascinating, “—forget it.”

“Oh—of course,” He obliged, handing the protection over to you, watching as you slowly rolled the latex over his tip, down his shaft, until it stopped near the base, fingertips brushing through his curls faintly, “—I always wear one, I don’t see why guys complain about it. It really doesn’t make a difference.”

You laugh softly, “Well, aren’t you a gentleman?”

“A godly gentleman, I hope.”

Your smirk softly, guiding your hips over his own, letting him rub his wide, aching tip through your folds, gathering up some of your slick before slipping in slowly, allowing you to adjust to the girth of him. You let out a quiet sigh, hips rocking slightly as you forced him deeper and deeper, a collective groan from the both of you when he was fully seated inside you.

“Let me untie your dress,” Eddie practically begs, yearning for the sight of your bare breasts and soft stomach as he fucked into you, wanting to see your body shift with every movement, “yeah?”

You nod, arms coming to wrap around his neck as you shifted your hips slightly, small lifted motions as you moved against his dick, Eddie muffled the groans in the alcove of your neck, fumbling with the tie until the dress fell loose, pooling at your hips.

“There we go.” He sighs in relief, pulling at your arms until they’re resting at your side, giving him the perfect view of you, so wound up and panting for relief, hair askew and in your face, much like his own. “Touch yourself, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t a new concept, you did it often—just never in the presence of others. But, Eddie sent a surge of confidence through you, something completely unexpected. Your fingertips dragging against the skin gently, body breaking out in goosebumps at the sensation, you squeeze at your breasts, receiving a small grunt from Eddie as he thrust into your harder, eyes locked on you, alternating between your working hands and exasperated face. 

“Fuck—I thought you were so innocent,” He laughs warmly, hands gripping at your hips, thumbs digging into the curve of the bone settled their, rocking you in time with his eager thrusts, forceful and totally in control, “guess I was wrong.”

“Surprise.” You mock breathlessly, the soft mounds of flesh squeezed gently between your hands, thumbs rubbing over the hardened buds testingly—you’ve never been super responsive, but then Eddie is reaching his tongue out, following the drag of your thumb, and that concept flies completely out of the window.

“You gonna come on my dick?” He asks teasingly, mouthing at the undersized of your breasts, “—think you can come without me touching you, sweetheart?”

You shake your head in a hurry, the thought was like torture, but Eddie doesn’t budge, removing his hands from you fully, resting against the side of his van, arms outstretched at his side. You stop for a moment, frustrated.

“That’s not fair.” You pout slightly, earning an amused laugh from Eddie.

“If you want it so bad—you’ll get what you need,” Eddie tells you, his thighs nudging your hips forward slightly, causing him to slip even deeper, “take what you need, okay?”

You look at him with a heated gaze, lust and anger laced together, “Lay down.” You order, watching as he shifts eagerly, allowing you full room to stretch your hands over his chest as he lays back, giving you the perfect amount of space to lose yourself, rocking your hips at a pace that has Eddie choking on air, palms pressed firmly against the material of his shirt, gripping slightly for assistance. 

“Fuck—okay,” Eddie pants, meeting your thrust with fervor, “I see how it is—shit, please tell me your close.”

“So close,” You whine, “God—so fucking close.”

Eddie makes a noise, “Mmm, not god, sweetheart.”

“Fuck off.” You laugh through baited breath, mouth hung open on a wordless gasp as he thrust into your harshly, hitting a spot so deep that you’re curling forward at the suddenness, nearly coming then, but you try to hang on, “Eddie—-shit—“

“It’s alright.” He nods, hair messy and bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat, rubbing your thighs tenderly, letting you rock your hips with such an intensity that he can’t hold back any longer, coming almost immediately after you, both of your desperate gasps of pleasure mixing together, cunt clenching tightly around him as you came, almost completely untouched—it was intense and visceral and like nothing you’ve ever felt. Eddie pants loudly, letting out a sudden laugh when you finally lock eyes.

“Oh, don’t look so smug.” You chide, shoving at him gently. 

Eddie doesn’t respond, leaning up to kiss you without warning, you make a noise of surprise, not offended in the slightest, but deeply caught off guard. Eddie pulls away slowly, staring at you hesitantly.

“That felt overdue, I’m sorry.” Eddie apologizes.

He doesn’t expect you to return the same eagerness, nearly toppling him back, lips pressed against him with all the energy and feeling you could muster, indulging in the simple act of kissing him. You’ve never experienced anything this special; so raw and real, it was exhilarating. 

Eddie slips out of you gently, tying up the condom and disposing of it in the front of his van, a small trash can nestled underneath the dash—it was filled to the brim already, which wasn’t surprising. You dress quickly, watching as Eddie shifted and tucked himself back inside his jeans quietly, eyes lingering on you the entire time. 

“No more excuses, okay?” Eddie says, “I get it if you don’t want to be seen with me at school—I can live with that, but seriously—I like you.”

You smile sweetly, tugging at your jacket pocket until it falls open, “I like you too, Eddie.” You find the bag of weed with ease, tossing it in his direction. “Keep the money, I don’t need it.”

Eddie catches it with one hand, “Same time next week then?”

You nod eagerly, leaning up to press a chaste kiss against his cheek, “Don’t be late.”

[mother--of---dragons]

ROBB STARK FINDS YOU IN THE LIBRARY -- ROBB STARK x READER

words : 1k summary : You and Robb rule over the North, and are busy fulfilling your duties most of the day; although you both still manage to make time for each other. a/n : hello reader! this is my first post on tumblr which is kinda crazy considering i've been writing for like 4 years -- so would love to make some mutuals if your wanting to chat. I am absolutely obsessed with game of thrones and cannot get enough of it so need to write little drabbles to help me cope -- although I may continue working on a fic if people enjoy this. anyway, this contains nothing but innocent fluff and cuteness because robb is the cutest character and I just think he would be so loving and sweet. — divider by @saradika-graphics

Reading was one of the only activities that could allow you to fully focus on one thing at once. So when you felt overwhelmed, sad or anxious, you would simply pick up a book and insert yourself into the pages -- imagining you were a completely different person in a completely different situation. You could be anyone you wanted to be, and yet still be able to return to your life in Winterfell.

Robb had always been fascinated by your love for books, as he didn't understand why they had you so encapsulated. He had read plenty of books before -- although the ones he had indulged in weren't exactly the fairy tales you were accustomed to -- and yet had never found any of them particularly interesting. He loved how cute you looked curled up next to a window, head stuck in the pages as you excitedly scanned the ink markings with your lip between your teeth. In fact, the first time he had met you was in Winterfell's library, and he had been absolutely infatuated with you ever since.

Due to your new-found responsibilities as the King in the North's wife, you hadn't been able to dig up much free time in awhile. Fortunately for you, you had finally managed to escape your duties for a few hours, and immediately decided to head to your favourite place. The library. You had already read most of the works of fiction that resided in the castle, although still somehow managed to stumble upon a brand new story in the depths of one of the shelves. Wiping your hand over the front of the book you had just plucked from the planks of wood to remove the thick layer of dust that had formed, you smiled at the enticing cover. The gold text and wispy font immediately getting you excited. You walked over to a window, sitting down on the pillowed seat below before gently opening the book, the spine crunching as it bent for probably the first time in years. The satisfying noise sent tingles through your body, and with that feeling, you began to read.

Robb had been signing, writing, and reading letters all day, and he was tired. He loved being king, but god could it get boring. He put his head in his hands, scratching his beard in thought as he looked down at the hundreds of pieces of paper before him. He had been sat in his chambers by himself all day, and frankly, he was lonely. He missed you, and couldn't help but let a smile creep to his face as the thought of you flooded his mind. It's time for a break, he thought to himself. Dropping his quill, he got up from his chair and put on some extra fabrics, deciding he would go out and look for his wife. He had a strong theory of where you might be, so he left his chambers and started down the hall, heading straight for the library.

You had gone through around seventy pages now, and the sun was beginning to set. You turned your head to look out the window, hypnotised by the bright orange orb descending beneath you. You always thought sunsets to be magical -- not that they only looked it, but that they genuinely were. It was like watching an angel go to sleep. As the warm glow continued to disappear, you stared, completely mesmerised. You closed your book, sliding a small handkerchief in as a bookmark and opted to gaze outside, hand on your chin to rest your head.

Robb approached you slowly, a coy grin on his face as he stood a few feet away and admired you. Your back was turned to him, as you were staring out the window; but even merely seeing that made him giddy.

In your hypnotic state, you suddenly recognized his figure in the reflection of the window. You spun your head around, eyebrows raised instinctively upon seeing your husband.

"Robb." You said in surprise, fixing your improper posture and placing your book neatly in your lap. Robb smiled lovingly at you, eyes right on yours as he went to sit beside you. You moved further to your right, making space for him.

"What book are you reading now, my lady?" He questioned as he sat himself down beside you. You smiled shyly at him, extending the book in your hands so the two of you could read it’s title.

"Tis called 'The Forest of Secrets,'" You answered in a mysterious tone, almost as if the book itself was a secret. "follows the story of a young man who meets a fairy in a forest, where she shows him everything that is magical. I have not read too much yet."

Although Robb gained little delight reading fantasy novels, he enjoyed hearing you enthuse about them. He loved listening to you talk about your interests and hobbies, no matter if he himself liked them also. "Any good?" He queried, frowning in question.

You nodded vigorously, like an excited child. Adjusting in the seat, you leant back on Robb, resting your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, resting one of his hands on your stomach while the other brushed through your hair.

You grinned bashfully as you felt his chest rise and lower as he breathed beneath your head, a sudden realisation coming to mind as your brows furrowed. "I had thought you were busy today?"

"I took a break." He said as he ran his fingers through your soft locks. "I wanted to see you."

"Do you not have a kingdom to rule?"

"The North can wait. My wife comes first." Robb pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, your cheeks instinctively shifting to a light pink hue as you rolled your eyes sarcastically at him. "Now, shall we read your book?"

You bit your lip back, trying to hide the smile that had creeped onto your face. Robb somehow always managed to make time for you, and his extensive efforts only made you fall more and more in love with him. You couldn't have asked for anyone better; so to respect his wishes, you opened your book and obligingly began to read from the page you had left on, the two of you sitting together happily in the castle that you both ruled over.

[gabessquishytum]

Dream loves sucking cock, loves licking them and warming them for hours if he could. The one thing he’s not particularly fond of though is deepthroating; he has a fairly strong gag reflex, and just doesn’t like the sensation the handful of times he’s tried and managed it anyway.

Thank goodness he’s finally gotten together with Hob, whose small cock is just the perfect size to sit in Dream’s mouth without touching his throat, even if he takes in all the way to the hilt. Dream’s obsessed with it, constantly looking for any excuse to get on his knees for his boyfriend, and is quite happy to spend long hours with his head between Hob’s legs.

And when his mouth isn’t full, he’s quite happy to praise Hob for how tiny and perfect his cock is, you’d think it was especially designed for Dream, how no one else can appreciate his adorable little gift of a cock.

If Dream is fucking him, he’s almost always sure to still have a hand petting it, commenting how it’s such a wonderful toy to play with while they make love. If Hob is fucking him, Dream will usually be teasing him that he’s using the wrong hole, that his cock was clearly shaped and sized for Dream’s mouth, since it’s not doing much for his ass (he says all this even as he’s still moving his hips).

Hob of course comes embarrassingly fast every time, since it’s all somehow hitting both his humiliation and praise kinks simultaneously

-🪽anon

Small cock appreciation club!!!!

Dream honestly thinks that Hob's small cock is perfect, and maybe that's why all the chat about it turns Hob on SO much. In theory it should be degrading to be teased for something that is traditionally considered a negative physical trait. But Dream is totally sincere when he waxes lyrical on the subject of the minimal length, the underwhelming size, the negligible thickness. He means all of these descriptions in an extremely complimentary way. Hob’s horny brain struggles to match Dream’s enthusiastic, breathless tone of voice with his frankly humiliating language... and his body ultimately decides that it is very much into the whole thing. Dream is both amused and horny about it too, so of course he turns up the notch on his lovingly mean descriptions of Hob’s cock: how cute it is when it kind of disappears into his lap when he sits down. How sweet it looks when fully hard but still no more than a finger in length. Dream firmly asserts that he could never ever be with another man, because Hob’s cock is perfect - it may as well have been designed for Dream’s needs. He simply couldn't live without the pleasure of delving his hand into Hob’s underwear and fishing around for his cute little prick.

The only problem is that Hob now has some kind of pavlovian association with all of those words describing his size - small, tiny, little - and arousal. He can never order a small coffee in peace ever again. But God, he wouldn't have it any other way...

[toomuchracket]

ex barista anon here. its been a while since i’ve been here but HI. DOWN bad thinking about barista! matty with baba at workkkkk. baby girl on his chest while it’s slow. naming a drink after her. showing her off to the regulars😭😭😭😭😭😭

oh my god yes like when aoife's a month or so old and matty's (reluctantly) back at work you take her along to the shop one afternoon after her nap because frankly You also need a nap and the only alternative is a double espresso made by the love of your life lol. he's the one making drinks when you get there, and when he hears your voice in response to amber's enthusiastic greeting/order-taking he turns round so fast he almost falls over lol; he goes to come over and see you, but you hold a hand up like "coffee first, babe, i'm in dire need", and he laughs and passes you your espresso and leans down to kiss aoife's head like "have you been tiring mummy out? i think you have, munchkin. wow, you really do take after me" and does his best to avoid you smacking him. the shop's quiet enough that bea and amber can handle it by themselves for a little while, so matty gets himself a drink (and you a cookie) and sits with you and your baby girl for a bit, holding and cooing at her and taking her round to meet some of the regulars, like you said, older couples who are as besotted with her as they are with him - even when his break is over, he offers to take aoife in the baby wrap for a bit while he takes orders, partially because she got a bit weepy when he tried to put her back in the pram and partially to let you have a minute to yourself to have a hot chocolate and a yap with some acquaintances, and it's SO CUTE watching him talk to her and look at her lovingly in the breaks between serving the few customers that come in. and i'm so obsessed with him naming a drink after her; that, to me, happens when she's a bit older and stealing the foam from his cappuccinos, and the aoifeccino is literally just a vanilla cappuccino "named after my little girl, because she's just so sweet. pairs lovely with the cookie's favourite cookie, actually, which is named after her mum". matty absolutely relishes telling people that, loves talking about his girls to anyone who'll listen lmao. lovely lovely boy <3

[whimsical-roasting]

I’m so obsessed with your smutty Jamie thoughts… like they’ve consumed all my brain space if you wanted to share some more (specifically those switch/sub ideas you’ve mentioned before hehehehe)

hii you are so cute, of course it's sub!jamie time.. sorry it takes me a min to reply to requests but i always love getting them, like damn yall wanna hear MY thoughts?? why??

anyways i ended up crying whilst searching for a gif...seeing him too sad makes me cry bc he doesn't deserve it OR seeing him really happy makes me cry bc he deserves it so much... i am a mess but i am soft for jamie tartt, my babyboy

oh my fucking god, my mind is filled with filth of sub!jamie

he's an excitable puppy; it's not surprising he'd be a cute lil sub, and everything jamie does, he does well

the man tries so hard in the things that matter, and he craves your praise

first fucking thing about having this subby boy would be giving him all the praise. I physically cannot fathom anything else?? petnames too!! "that's it, sweetheart" "good boy" "babyboy" "mm, you're my perfect baby, yea?" "so fucking good for me"

((my mind is racing all over the place rn so this is incoherent))

he calls you baby most likely, maybe even ma'am - "yes, mam" "please, babeh" (in his accent)

he follows instructions so well cause he wants to please you!!

WHIMPERS. oh god, my baby whimpers

he also POUTS. he's so fucking pouty and whiney with everything, but he still follows instructions. maybe he'd be bratty here and there, but you threatening him with, "you really don't wanna cum tonight, huh" or "i should stop touching you right now" makes him act right cause he needs your touch. he's craving it.

he'd be all desperate, eyes widening in panic as you start to pull away, "no! please! 'm sorreh!!"

i see him sitting up on the bed naked, back against the headboard, and you're just beside him, kissing him and sliding your hands down his chest

you're sucking on his neck and teasing his nipples, and he just groans, hand gripping your knee. you stop and slap his hand away, causing him to pout

"no hands, baby. keep 'em by your side, no touching unless i say so", you instruct. cause you know, and he knows it's harder for him to keep his hands at bay through self-control compared to restraints, but frankly, you don't care what he prefers cause he's bound to listen regardless

he whines in response, and you shoot him a look so he sheepishly corrects himself, "yes mam," and the pleased smile you give him has his chest feeling warm and his stomach a lil giddy

you continue kissing all over his face, jaw, neck. peppering kisses and praises that he EATS UP... it goes straight to his dick. "so pretty" "my handsome boy" "gorgeous"

you shift further down his body and get him to lay down on the pillow, sucking on his nipples and stroking his dick

all he can do is whine. his jaw is tense from trying to keep his hands by his side, and he tries to focus on breathing, but when you moan around his nipple and lazily half-stroke his dick, his focus is fucked

you start kissing down his stomach, and poor boy is already leaking some precum

"so eager, baby? for who?" "y-you" "hmm, why?" you ask as your thumb spreads his precum around the head of his dick, teasing his slit and causing him to hiss

"w-want you, babeh. please." "i dunno...are you gonna be good?" "so good, i'll be a good boy," he says with urgency in his voice

you straddle his chest so your ass is practically in his face. he can practically smell you... god, he wants a taste, but he can't quite reach, and he fucking hates it.

he settles for moving his head to the side, gently kissing your thighs. the kisses make you groan softly, and he can feel your hot exhale on his dick, involuntarily causing him to whine and thrust upwards

you just coo, "awe my needy baby," before licking the head of his dick.. his breath hitches

you start going down on him, providing the sloppiest head paired with "taste so good, babyboy" "all mine, right?" "lemme hear you, angel"

he ends up moaning and whining louder as you get so into it

your body is moving with you, and i bet your pussy ends up bumping his nose once or twice, so he just feels your wetness on his face

he wants to devour you so fucking bad, but you said no touching and the thought of you stopping what you're doing right now has him too scared to risk it

his hand comes up to grip the pillow. his eyes are squeezed shut, mouth open in pleasure as he's whimpering, "c-close, 'm cl-close"

and then you just stop. suddenly his dick feels very wet and very cold from the absence of your mouth. he wants to cry

he gives out a teary plead, "noo", and you give a hoarse reply "do good boys complain?" "b-but i-" "answer me, baby. do they complain?" and you get a quiet but obedient "no."

"are you a good boy for me?" "..yes mam", and you kiss his thighs as he pouts from you edging him

there's a beat of silence as you're caressing/kissing his thighs before you say, "d'you wanna taste?" shaking your hips in his face, and though you can't see it, his eyes light up, and he's nodding eagerly

"yes! lemme taste, please" he sounds so eager, it makes you chuckle. he blushes at the way he sounds so desperate for you; he's kinda thankful you can't see his face

"make me cum, yea? then i'll consider letting you finish. got that, angel?"

he's wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you down onto his face before you hear a muffled "yes, mam"

he'd eat you out with such fucking devotion. entire face dripping with your wetness. moaning into your pussy. honestly, he'd be so into it, slurping and lapping you up. his dick is leaking precum again.

you give him so much praise!! "god, you're so cute" "just like that baby" "good boy, fuck- that's it, eat me out" "so perfect darling, my darlin boy" "use that tongue"

i could go on and on... this is too long already, and we haven't touched on sex position, but that'll be next time,,,,,, AFTERCARE

okay aftercare!! he's super clingy, so you can't leave the room for too long, or he'll start calling out for you all pouty

you'd clean him up, maybe run a shower, but you'd be the one washing off his body and drying him off

i see him as being tired and cuddly too

you'd be caressing his cheek and kissing his forehead and he'd look up at you with sleepy, big eyes (maybe like the gif) and ask, "did i do good?"

and you're like "so good, angel!! so good. you were the best for me" "always the best for me, you're perfect baby", and he just beams up at you, snuggling into your chest further

"i love you so much, love", you say playing with his hair and kissing his head. he's tracing patterns on an exposed part of your torso where your shirt's ridden up

he gives you a tired but soft "i love you more"

you grin noticing how he's slowing down his fingers as his body feels heavier against you, "i love you the most" and he's drifted off against you

[asleepyy]

Hello! I just did yet another reread of your comic, so here's a list of random things I love about it!! Sorry if this is a bit uuuhhhh MUCH but I just love your comic a lot, and want to share some of that love, and this seemed like the best way to go about that. So:

-The way Azazel's wings are so fluffy and Jophiel's are so sleek! Your stylization of them is so pretty.

-How you draw Azazel's hands always folded as if in prayer, or fiddling...even though the rest of him is often so still. Very true to Aziraphale, of course, but also fitting of an owl - still and always observing. But still, something that betrays that vigilance.

-Jophiel's honest-to-someone mullet in Mesopotamia. I love him so much. His little curls give me life.

-How Jophiel is always moving, angling his head in funny ways, pulling absurd expressions! He's so fun and mobile, which is just perfect to contrast our very sad and stationary owl.

-just a second being overwhelmed again at the fact that Azazel risked and gave up everything for Jophiel and continues to do so after Falling for him I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine this is fine.

-The way they are so in character in this!! I love reverse AUs but it's very hard to keep them in character in them. You do so flawlessly, to the point that as I find myself trying to imagine future story beats, I struggle to because I just see them acting the way they do in the canon. Stellar writing.

-Jophiel's wink in Mesopotamia. This deserves its own point in this list. As does Azazel finally getting to look happy in the frame after, even if it doesn't last...oh sweet owl...

-Azazel tugging on Jophiel's abaya in Golgatha...completely unnecessary to get his attention, didn't need to pull him closer or anything, but it's like the fiddling of his hands wasn't soothing enough and he needed to reach out in this moment of fear for Jophiel, always asking questions.

-The return of Jophiel's mullet in Heaven! Hell yeah

-help you draw Muriel SO cute.

-Azazel's "I've personally witnessed an Angel become an owl" PLEASE it's so devastating yet so funny

-Every time we get a little frame of just Jophiel's eyes reacting with sorrow and anger at moments when it's so, so clear Azazel was never meant to Fall. His eyes are SO expressive. I don't think your future sunglasses are gonna hide the fact that you're constantly glaring at god my guy.

-I really love the way you draw Jophiel's nose, it's gorgeous!

-Jophiel. Calls. Him. Angel. Need to lie down

-Seriously, I should've anticipated it, and I didn't, that's on me, but my HEART was not READY and I'm obsessed with this scene and its implications. The way Jophiel, deep down, doesn't even see Azazel as a demon ("you were an angel once" "that was a long time ago"). How pleased and adorable Azazel is at being referred to thusly (the little hair poofs!!!). The care they have long held for each other, in its unique and strange manifestations, revealing itself as a tangible burgeoning affection.

-Jophiel's declaration on the most recent page to protect Azazel, having no freaking clue that he's frankly 4500 years late to the game. Glad to have you here, your demon friend has been protecting YOU since before time was invented! Woo...but seriously, such a powerful and touching moment all around.

Anyway, I know this is ridiculously long, but goodness knows long comments on my GO fics always make ME very happy, so I figured you wouldn't mind. ;) I eagerly anticipate every update and bit of art, and when you make this comic into physical form, I will be camping out front of the pre-orders like it's a Black Friday sale. Tent and all. And snacks.

Take care!

🥹🥹😭😭 THANK YOU!!! This is super super sweet thank you for taking ur time to do this!!! I think I’d create the first physical copy when we finish season one of the show in the story, and then if interest is still high, a second physical copy for when we tackle season 2!

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 02 - Body Worshipping]

Pairing: soft dom!Hoseok x n.Reader

Kinks: body worshipping, praise, tears, clothed sex

Wordcount: 1.4k

a/n: given how you only chose those four kinks, I didn’t know how far I could go. So I kept it as minimal as possible with swerving out of the kink list. Enjoy besties! 🖤

The telly is running. Your favourite show for the fourth time. You introduced it to your boyfriend. He didn’t like it at first because he rarely watches shows, but he is just as obsessed with it these days as you are. 

Tonight however he is barely even watching, cuddled so tightly into you that you wonder if he wanted to merge with you. His day at work sucked and if that happens, Hoseok wants cuddles, your favourite show in the background and even more cuddles. 

He nuzzles and hums softly.

"You smell so nice", he says, fingers tracing your arm slowly, almost as if they wanted to memorise every inch of it.

You acknowledge him with a hum, but continue watching the show. Hoseok loves to whisper little nothings when he feels snuggly. At first you always felt the need to answer him until he told you that he merely loves to tell you without expecting an answer from you. So these days you simply let him, enjoying them with a fluttering heart.

Hoseok purrs softly, placing a kiss on your neck. 

"So soft", he whispers, "mhm baby why are you so soft?" he whines, grinding into you in a cute manner. It is the kind of grind which looks as if he is dry humping you when in reality he simply wants to be even closer to you. 

You chuckle, caressing his thigh and letting your hand rest on it afterwards. His sweats are so soft and his muscles are so defined, you love that feeling. Quite frankly, you’re a little obsessed with it.

Hoseok has reached your ear by now, nibbling on it with his lips. He makes the tiniest kissing sounds as he does, running his elegant hand up and down your arm in the meantime. He lingers on your shoulder each time he reaches it, inching closer and closer to your neck each time. 

"You are so beautiful", he whispers, fingers brushing against your neck, "do you know that?"

You smile, "mh-hm."

"Yeah? You do?" Hoseok lifts his head. He places his fingers under your chin and turns your head to him. His eye contact flusters you solely because he does it with such loving intensity. 

"Hobi the show", you say.

"It's a good show", he answers you and steals a chaste kiss. 

"Hobi", you whisper, lowering your head shyly.

"You are so cute when you’re like this. God, I wanna scoop you up and never let you go", he says, making a little soundeffect as he does exactly that. 

You fall with a loud cackle, landing right a top of Hoseok's chest as he makes sure to wrap all of his limbs around your body tightly. He squeaks and grunts in a high-pitched voice, tickling your neck with the best kisses ever. 

"My baby, I’m not letting you go. So cute and beautiful and soft", he says, rolling around on the couch as best as possible.

He truly makes you so happy. You sometimes wonder if laughing as much as you do with Hoseok is natural. After all, it can’t be normal that your cheeks hurt so tremendously from pure happiness all the time. 

"God Hobi, that tickles", you squeak, feeling tears of laughter well up in your eyes.

"Mhmbaby so nice", Hoseok murmurs, giggling with you as he touches an especially sensitive spot on your waist and it makes you squeak in laughter. 

"No tickles please", you beg and because Hoseok is the best boyfriend, he listens.

He releases you from his hold, allowing you to sit back up. He keeps close to you however, with his legs on either side of you and his arms around your waist.

"God Hobi I hate it when you tickle me", you whine.

"I know, sorry sorry", he mumbles, kissing your neck as an apology. Those kisses are not of innocent nature, you soon realise as each kiss makes shivers run down your spine and your stomach tingle in excitement. Softly and with intent, he kisses you, making the neediest little sounds as he does.

"Have I told you before that I love your neck?" he asks, resting his chin on your shoulder, "you smell so nice there, makes me wanna keep kissing you", he adds and does exactly that.

"Feels good", you sigh.

"Mhm yeah, feels good. Love kissing you", he whispers, using his big hand on the side of your face to turn your head to him.

He smiles and goes in for a deep kiss. He tastes like the caramel popcorn you are sharing, lips as soft as they always are. 

When he pulls back, you feel just the slightest bit lightheaded, pulse racing in your chest.

"My beautiful", he whispers and then does the surprising thing of getting off the couch just to kneel in front of you. 

"Huh? What are you doing?" 

He hugs your legs, running his hands up and down your thighs repeatedly. His touch feels electrifying, leaving your skin so greedy for more.

"I want to worship you", he says.

"God Hobi, you’re flustering me", you murmur, squirming just the slightest bit. 

"Don't flee", he orders lovingly, "just relax baby, I’ll take the best care of you."

"Oh, okay", you whisper, trying to relax even though you feel like bouncing in excitement.

Hoseok lowers his head, resting it on your lap with a content sigh. And while he does, his hands trace your calves, tickling your skin oh so wonderfully.

"So soft", he sighs, "my baby is so soft", he says and turns his head to place an almost obsessed kiss a top your left thigh. 

You really want to concentrate on the show, but can’t. Not when his kisses feel so very nice. 

Hoseok hums in happiness, lips curled into a smile and eyes closed. He kisses your right thigh, doing so with the utmost tenderness. 

"So warm too", he whispers, "I can't ever get enough of you. Never ever."

It feels really good to be worshipped by him. He makes all those stupid, little insecurities feels so miniscule and so unnecessary. When you are with Hoseok, you don’t have ugly days, because he thinks all your days are beautiful. 

Hoseok takes your hands, cradling them with all the care in the world. Almost as if he was scared to accidentally break them.

"I'm yours", he whispers, tracing your knuckles as his eyes follow his touch.

He lifts them to his lips and begins kissing them, doing so with his eyes closed. That is the only way to kiss your hands. Hoseok wants to get lost in it. 

He looks so peaceful and happy. This man is yours. This beautiful, wonderful man is yours.

"I'm yours", you tell him, squeezing his hands.

Hoseok lifts his gaze, smiling at you. 

"Baby, what's the matter?" his smile drops quickly, "why are you crying?"

"I'm happy", you press out, spilling new tears.

"I'm happy too, god baby don’t cry. It’s okay", Hoseok sits up and cups your cheeks, pulling you into a loving kiss. Not for long as he wants to do nothing more than kiss those tears away. Even if of happy nature, Hoseok can't bear to see you crying. He has to make sure every inch of your face is kissed and worshipped by him. You deserve nothing less.

"Hobi that feels so good", you whisper.

"Yeah? Do you like it?" he asks, trailing his kisses back to your neck. The position may look a little bit awkward. Him towering over you while you are sitting on the couch with your head tilted back and his lips on your neck. But it's not awkward at all. It is this slight feeling of being so vulnerable for him that makes your entire body tingle in the need to have more and more and more. 

"I love it", you moan softly, gasping when he sucks a little hickey to your jawline. Not harshly, he merely wanted your skin to tingle. And you do. You tingle like crazy.

You fall against the couch with a sigh. Hoseok follows, placing his knee between your parted legs without ever touching you where it aches for his touch the most. His warmth is enough to rile you up however. Oh how you wish he will go further tonight. His hands land on each side of the headrest, caging in your head.

Like this his dark hair is hanging into his face, framing his features and hiding the rest of the world from your view. 

"I've got you now", he says.

"You do", you whisper, "please kiss me again."

Hoseok takes your cheek between his fingers, tilting your head up gently. He leans down, forcing his lips to brush against yours without ever allowing you a full taste.

"I'm gonna kiss you for hours, baby", he rasps, finally leaning in.

[inthedarkshadows000]

SneakPeak#103.......

From the story I might never write.

Thud.

"That's it, were taking a break. I need some time to gather my self respect back." I begged from the floor where toji had dumped me like a sack of potato, rather just a potato. Anything more would give me too much credit.

Toji and I had been going at it for ages. I had convinced him to teach me how to fight and he had reluctantly agreed.

I could roll my eyes just thinking about the conversation.

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Pretty please....."

"No."

"Pretty please with a cherry on top." I am sure it's easy to know who is begging whom. With whatever happened recently, I decided to get my head out of my ass and finally learn some cool moves and who better to teach than the god himself.

"Why dont you go bother one of the other brats."

"You know why."

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do."

"I don't think so, why don't you remind me." His obnoxiously sexy smirk made me want to kick him to the moon and back. However, in order to do exactly that, I needed him to train me so I played nice.

"Because you sir, are a god amongst men and I only want the best to teach me."  I said lathering up as much sugar as I could to my tone.

His satisfied expression made me wanna kiss the shit out of him. So cute.

So here we were, him wiping the floor with my ass without even moving more than his left arm, let alone him breaking a sweat.

"You are pitiful." He said with a bored expression but lemme me remain lying on the floor to take a breather.

"I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't already know that." I didn't bother opening my eyes as I grumbled.

"Tch. That's it." That made me snap my eyes open and sit up straight.

"Wait!! No!! I didn't mean to be snappy. Don't give up on me." I begged. He cannot seriously be done because I want a break!!!

"Stop crying woman. I meant for today." He seemed even more annoyed now. This made slump back in relief as I leaned my weight on my hands, behind me.

I mean my eyes did start watering a teeny Meeny bit. In my defence I don't like people giving up me.

He had taken a seat on my left and I tilted my face to look at him. I couldn't help but glance at his scar every few seconds.

I mostly blame this for distracting me during practices but let's be fair, I wouldn't be any better still.

Now, done with practice, I didnt bother hiding my fascination. In a trance, I turned to my left so I faced him. My right hand moved towards his face and I shifted my gaze to his eyes when I saw his eyebrows furrow.

"What do you think you are doing?" His rough voice grumbled as he thumbed his scar.

"May I?" I motioned towards it and replaced his thumb with mine slowly, in case he wanted to move away, without waiting for his response.

" It's beautiful. I can't believe the injustice that show did, I mean don't get me wrong they did make seem sexy but... in reality it's so... beautiful." I couldn't help but murmur. The contrast between his smooth skin and the rought texture of the scar evident.

"You fucking right?? Beautiful?!" He swatted my hand away and rolled his eyes. I leaned back on my hands, realising I might be in his space uninvited.

Once I took notice of the disbelief in his tone, I couldn't help but lean forward and shake his shoulders -Not that I could move him an inch- and looked him dead in the eyes as I said, "OH no I am so serious!! You know I was anyway always obsessed with those eyebrow scars that people have. Always found it so attractive but never had the guts to purposely do it myself because frankly my parents would have my head but then there was this one time where I was just normally walking and like totally tripped on air and banged my entire face against the corner of my dining chair. It was made of solid wood and my face went SPLAT on it." I made a sound as I moved my palm towards my face.

I pouted as I remebered the cut I got and pointed at it. " I got a cut here on my foreheadand after I recover from the concussion I was so annoyed that I didn't plan the fall so I could get that eyebrow scar. I hadn't watched the show till then though and when I watched it later my new obsession was a lip scar. Just so when I met you we could be twinsies. I mean it was a wishful thinking and I knew it was impossible. Now I so wish I had gotten that scar because obviously this" I motioned between us, "wasn't as impossible as it seemed." I chucked.

"You normally blabber so much?" He raised an eyebrow but didn't actually seem annoyed. I fact he seemed slightly softer.

"I have my moments. This was so you would believe that you really are pretty." I grinned at him.

He scoffed the moment I had finished. "You don't think I already know that I am handsome and a killer. You'll be best to remember that." The softness that had entered his features was gone. His look now a warning.

I wasn't scared though and looked at him head on. There are things he deserved to hear, I was gonna damn well tell him it, "I do remember it, actually admire you for that."

"Are you mocking me?!" His face had become harsher, lips pulled back and I got glimpse of his canine.

Wonder how those would feel on my neck. Aaaannnddd you are getting side tracked again.

"Why would you say that? I really do admire your strength." I couldn't help but frown, as I questioned him.

" I am a horrible person and you admire me for it?! don't bullshit me." He snorted.

In a voice, i hoped was soothing yet sure, I explained to him, "I admire you because you stood on your own and fought for yourself even though the entire was against you. You were dealt with bad cards toji, you did the best you could with them. It's called being resourceful. I believe people define other bad or good according to their personal gains from a person. If your work would be favouring an individual you probably would be the best else the worst. So don't define yourself based on other's opinion. If you had been given the right kind of love and respect, you would definitely be better but you weren't. You had to fight for the things that others received as basics. You had the option to die or fight and you fought. It makes you fighter, a damn good one at that, and it scares people. When people are scared they try to tear you down and make you insecure."

I refused to break eye contact with him even though his heavy gaze made me want to melt. He needed to hear that but suddenly I felt like I may have over stepped a lot of boundaries. The look on his face shifted, no longer angry. If I didn't know I would call it broken.

"But I have killed people and that is wrong." He pressed.

I slowly moved my hands to take one of his in mine and pressed lightly as a comforting gesture, waiting for him to pull back, surprised when he didn't.

"And there are people who paid you to do it. To make you do their dirty work. You know I read somewhere IF YOU CANNOT LOVE YOUR CURRENT SELF THEN BECOME THE VERSION YOU CAN. Don't you think if you've realised that it was wrong then there is still hope, for you to change and be someone you can accept. I don't know if it'll help but I just wanna let you know that you can consider this house your safe place. You don't have to fight to be accepted now, I promise to fight for you. You can kill someone or start giving births, it'll all be the same for me, if you agree of course." There was pin drop silence as my monologue finished. I was ready to tell him this as many times as he needed to hear it but I also realised how serious everything had turned.

"Also please don't actually start giving births, you pigs cannot take everything, we girls are literally working with crumbs here." I couldn't help but add at the end. All the tension made me want to run.

He took the bait as he finally smirked "YOU fight for ME!? Might as well plan my funeral now."

"Yeah... Well... right after you teach me how to." I rolled my eyes as if it was obvious making him bursts out laughing. He ruffled my hair as he moved to get up and I quickly got up too.

Taking quick steps towards the door I threw over my shoulder, "Also m'gonna call you pickachu from now."

"Like hell you are." I didn't turn around to tell he wanted to shoot me. It made me laugh.

Still laughing I shrugged my shoulder, "You do have an uncanny resemblance to pickachu. Especially with the whole annoy-me-and-i'll-electrocute-you vibe." I tried to imitate his gruff baritone.

"Woman stop talking, you will not call me that yellow rat." He sounded so offended as he followed.

"Exactly!!! Picka it is."

[slothpower-central]

Rolling out the Red Carpet for the Cinema branch!!

Hello,hi, it's me that one person who makes the funny videos and thinks she can draw(she cannot) Inspiration hit me in the middle of my film studies course while watching Vertigo by Alfred Hitchcock and I thought "what if I made my own LCB branch where every sinner is based on a movie I've watched in my film class (and just general classic Hollywood cinema) and so I did it! The branch is currently VERY unfinished,as I add a new sinner each week for every film we watch in the class,so lemme introduce you to the guys that I've at least doodled so far(awful art incoming lol)

First up,we need a manager,or should I say,director(get it, because it's based on movies?) anyway here's Dorothy! If it wasn't obvious, she's based on the Wizard of Oz,She may or may not have come from the Outskirts and now she's running around with these sinners,and her little dog too! Oh and her red slippers(boots now,IG lol)? Those have a use, clicking her heels 3 times allows her to bring her sinners back to life!

Our guide is Glinda! Also based on Wizard of Oz,I have....not drawn her yet! But she is ultra hands off,she mainly communicates by sending Dorothy letters in bubbles,oh and did I mention she's a color fixer? ...yea I probably should have started with that

Now onto our actual sinners, don't ask me about major plot details about them,I haven't worked it out yet,

Sinner #1,This is Chaplin! Based on Modern Times by Charlie Chaplin,this guy is more of a fusion of the two main characters of the movie since uhm...neither of them have names and frankly their stories are both so intertwined that You could easily mix them together so here we are. They are the most comical of the sinners,I have described them as having a lot of cat like behaviors to a degree, and they are selectively mute(silent film lol) They have a white board they write on like it's Lethal Company and they have Heelys(mainly for the funny)

I haven't uhm.....finished sinner #2 yet because everytime I try to draw him my art style makes him look like the Pringles mascot lol but it's Kane! Kane is based on Charles Foster Kane from Citizen Kane by Orson Welles! Right now currently he's like "god I'm in a company of all women...AND CHAPLIN" He's rich like....richer than Hong Lu rich,he does seem to offhandedly mention something Rosebud and it seems almost like he's searching for it...wonder what that could be?(Btw go watch Citizen Kane, I'm not telling you what Rosebud is)

Finally out last Sinner at the moment: Sinner #3 Judy based on Judy from Vertigo! Yessir this is the reason for the branch, her source got my imagination spinning (she may or may not be mine and Amia's favorite atm of the branch) I would have made Scottie a sinner but......I hate his ass and need him exploded and not in the cute way(JUDYYYYYY YOU DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER GIRLLL) Judy is also 20x more fun as a character than Mr. "I'm gonna stare at women for 70% of my screentime" Honestly I could gush so much about her but I won't to keep this brief... essentially by the end of Vertigo Scottie convinces her to change everything about herself to turn her into his lost love/obsession Madeleine (ai know there's more too it but uhm....Go watch Vertigo, I'm not spoiling the movie)[PS, Ignore the doodle in the corner, that was from an idea that Amia's OC Tessie and Judy would get along well]

Tomorrow we'll actually have Sinner #4 who's gonna be based on someone from the movie Sunset Boulevard ( I don't pre watch these bc my attention span actually increases so much when I analyze movies for Limbus)

Anyway I'll keep updating you on the Cinema branch their tag is "LCB Cinema Branch" if you want everything in one place oh! And feel free to draw my lil guys if u want,just @ me or tag me or something. uhm don't ask about their weapons or colors or anything I haven't thought that far ahead yet lol

[rreskk]

Hi, Trevor fingerfuck the reader until she squirts, a little overstimulation maybe... can you?

A/N: Absolutely! Thank you for the request <3

Summary: He hates being awake when you're asleep, so he does something about it.

TW: -Smut

Word count: 1680

Pairings: Fem!reader/Trevor Philips

He was lied on his bed, boredom completely frying his brain as well as the profanity of drugs he had taken the hours beforehand. You were crashed out beside him – legs tangled, clothes off; stripped naked from the nightly activities. It was early morning (6am) and he was woken up by his insufferable insomnia. Trevor just wanted to sleep peacefully. He’d glance at your exposed chest with eager eyes, but you were fast asleep. He doesn’t blame you, not at all. You experienced it rough and raw, with pleasure, and with love (from Trevor himself).

“When the fuck you gonna wake up, huh?” He’d huff at your sleepy frame, his fingers tingling for some action. His high sex drive had led you into becoming his ultimate obsession, his complete favourite person, favourite girl – His girl.

 “I’m getting’ so… Horny, baby.”

Yet you remained breathing heavily asleep. A sigh left his lips and he slumped back against the pillows. Waking up to the sight of your breasts and frame had led him no justice. He was yearning and struggling to cope with it. Too much of him is throbbing; hands, boner, lips, tongue.

God… Trevor needed to taste you. He wonders if you taste or react differently when asleep… He wonders if you’d love it as much as you were awake.

Struggling to settle back down, he clicked his tongue and stared up to the ceiling. Every time he stares at the tile patterns, there’s always something new to see. For years he’s been making shapes out of the ceilings material. He hoped to find something worth his curiosity, going through the efforts of rotating and tilting his head.

“I swear I saw an outline of tits last week…” Trevor murmured and squinted at the ceiling.

But there was too many shapes to count. His drug-fuelled brain couldn’t handle the pressure and he immediately sulked back against the mattress, in a bitter mood with himself for feeling bored and alone. You were right there, within arm reach, within hand reach… He’d shake you awake with a rough, passionate kiss – Why doesn’t he?

He observed your sleepy face and found it incredibly endearing and divine. The urge to cradle and toy with your sensitive areas was quite frankly huge. Trevor stared at your sleepiness and shuffled closer so his bare crotch was subtly buried between your ass and curves. He grunted. The warmth wasn’t enough.

“C’mon… I’m starvin’ for you, baby. Wake up, for me? Yeah?” He’d whisper against your absent ears, slowly entrancing his arms around your waist. Trevor possessively clenched your stomach – his hands greeting each other and captivating you into his embrace.

Resting his chin upon your shoulder, his eyes remained fixated on your unconscious face as his fingers slowly trickled down your stomach, thumbling under the covers and reintroducing himself with your sex. His thumb gracefully caresses your folds and aching for some more coverage. There was no response from your sleepy figure yet; a sign to carry on experimenting.

“Wakey wakey…”

Trevor added pressure to his thumb that migrated from your outer area, routing through your privacy and groaning at how warm, but also wet you were, already… He cackled, that horrific breath penetrating your earlobes as he had a natural response from your body. With the wetness seeping quickly, his thumb was able to access your sex deeper until it was fully applied – earning a breathy gasp from your departed lips.

His eyes met your closed ones. You were still asleep, cutely.

“You’re killin’ me, sugar… I miss you. Wake up, c’mon… I’ll treat you real nice,” There was desperation behind his pleads. He cradled your body, his thumb still exploring through your throbbing pussy. The Adams apple based in his neck quivered in torment – “I love you, I love your cunt, I love your fuckin’ tits, babe. Lemme love you, I want you awake.”

He acutely leaned down, biting your shoulder with this hand continuing the hard-labour under the stained sheets. Trevor’s tongue tasted the salty sweat from your skin as his teeth grazed the surface.

“Wake up…”

Your body arched into Trevor’s hips. Whether this was self-projected, he whined and panted like a loose dog. He couldn’t hold himself back. You were practically pulsing around his thumb, something told him you were crying for more. He knew you wouldn’t mind… This wasn’t exactly a regular occurrence, but it has happened before; more than once. Trevor had found himself drooling over your exhaustion (some evenings ago) and “helped” wake you up, spiritually.

This occurrence though? He was eager, almost dying for you to wake up and whisper pleads.

“I wanna make you squirt so hard…” His hands carried on smoothing your sex as he gasped for some dignity, chin dug into the nuzzle of your neck.

Adding a second finger to support his thumb, Trevor cruelly molested your clit. His wrist was circulating at great pace. He kept his sights on you, noticing slight disturbance in your peace and grinning. He loved you faster until his arm was using all it’s muscles to contract some pleasure and aggression.

“C’mon…”

Your lips would twitch and your nostrils flared.

“Wake up, [y/n].”

Your tongue slithered through your cracked lips in anticipation.

“That’s right…” Trevor watched your eyes flutter open lazily, “There’s my girl.”

The welcome invitation of his fingers groping your cunt had roused your consciousness and comprehension. You rotated your head and exhaled as he stared back at you, breathing heavily and his saliva painfully falling from the side of his monstrous mouth.

“Trevor…” You gravely moaned and opened your legs wider.

He nodded frantically; “I know, I know. Lemme love you, c’mon. Squirt for me, girl.”

You gaped your maw and your gob was silenced by the offering of his gnarly fingers that crookedly overstimulated your pussy. The beating and bashing rapidly made you gamble out his name.

“Trevor! Fuck!”

His boredom had been replaced momentarily with determination and thrill of your soft voice. He pressed soft kisses behind your ear, one hand grasping your stomach while the other perverted your cunt into proceeding blissful donations of your seeping attraction, the wetness submerging into a wider mess. It had you pivoting around your own world.

“You’re so hot,” Trevor giggled, indirectly talking, “Keep moaning, babe, keep doing it… You like this? C’mon, say it… You love this, don’t cha?”

“Yes, yes… Oh! Oh, please! I can’t…”

“You can.”

“Trevor – “

He found ultimate joy in your pretty little struggles, “You make me so fuckin’ happy, [y/n]. Keep taking in my finger with your sexy cunt, yeah? I’ll fuck your tits next, isn’t that right babe?”

Words had failed to apprehend his playful Baptism of your sex. You were left whispering inaudible cries; something along the lines of – “Please” and “Oh fuck.” But it barely made it out of your throat without the affects of his mannerism. Trevor had found his morning enjoyments with this, giddy as life, and he is never giddy about waking up.

“I love you so fuckin’ bad, you know that? You saint, you Goddess, my God…” His fingers sped up, squelching and substituting your inner warmth, “I want you… Shit, I-I need you. I can’t live without your pussy, babe. Shittt, I need to fuck you after this, hm? C’mon, you want the good old Trevor lovin’?”

“Please, p-please!”

Your back had fully arched into Trevor’s chest, grinding for some friction and warmth between the skin-to-skin contact. You were still barely awake, but it didn’t matter since he was working for it, the hard-labour and mobility behind his criminal hand making you feel so unlawfully lucky. Trevor may have killed with his hands – it only makes it more exciting and “naughty.”

He loves a bit of naughtiness;

Touching without your word.

Whining for your attention.

Tormenting your peace.

Then using his raging sex-addicted body to defuse any deprived tension.

He loved it all. And you did.

“You’re so wet.”

He fingered and fingered as you whinged and wailed his name. The continuous art of his fingers had probably caused internal bruising in your cunt for the next few days, especially after his repeated visit with his cock and tongue. The days straight of intimacy never outgrew as boring. Instead, it grew boring without having each other’s spit and semen buried within each other. It was his affection and it was your love confession.

“I’m gonna – “ You were instantly shut up when he nibbled your earlobe again. Trevor grunted and creepily traced his name with his fingertip upon your stomach. You could tell considering he was heaving out the letters. He imagined tattooing and permanently marking you with his name all over your used body, so immensely beautiful to his fantasies.

“Trevor, please…” You croaked.

“Trevor, please…” He mocked heavily before kissing your cheek and relentlessly loving your pussy.

“Mhm, no. M’no, stop. I need to cu – Baby! Please, don’t stop.”

“Almost there…”

“Trevor! TREVOR!”

He fingered through your climax. Trevor gasped in delight when you outspread your legs and a raging rampage of your fluids squirting out, wetting the mattress and duvets.

“FUCK!” Cried your tainted and shattered voice. It felt like an intense wave of relief washing over your stomach and chest. Butterflies had lilted from your heart to your throat, moaning sweet lullabies to his ears while you continued squirting out the remainder of your cum.

“That’s right, baby. That’s so fuckin’ hot.”

Trevor felt you dumbly sink into the pillows after you had managed to climax every ounce of your sexual depravity. He smothered your neck with sloppy kisses and praises.

“[y/n], fuck me, girl! That was so sexy, you fuckin’ tiger, ay?” His tone uplifted childishly.

“Trevor, fuck…”

“I know, baby, I know,” A hand caressed your collarbone and shoulder, “Still needy? Still horny for more? How ‘bout my cock, huh? You want me to fuck the life outta your tits and cunt, [y/n]?”

You nodded pathetically.

“Please, yes, yes.”

He giggled and massaged your jaw.

“Alright. Wake up, baby. Uncle T is now fuckin’ coming.”

[thebirdandthebee]

Easy As

A Carmen Berzatto Universe

A/N: Another request from the inbox - though I think this has been on everyone’s mind for a while! Let me know your guesses at gender ;)

Vanessa Monaghan is the breath of fresh air that Carmen had been gasping for.

Chapter 28: Sous

It was earlier than they planned – about six months earlier. Vanessa would be walking at her graduation ceremony in three months, and by then, she’d be six months along.

She didn’t care if it was earlier than planned. Frankly she was more impressed than anything – she’d only gotten her IUD taken out a few months ago. Her gynecologist warned it could take six months to a year for her cycle to regulate again and they had been using condoms in the mean time.

She hadn’t even necessarily gotten off of her IUD with the intention of getting pregnant, but to help with cramps that had been getting worse over the last year or so.

But there it was, looking right back at her as she stared down the little Clear Blue test. Pregnant.

It took a few days for it to really sink in – and about six more tests along with a trip to her gyno to confirm.

Sure, they’d been talking about having babies for years, but it was something else entirely to actually be pregnant.

She wanted to tell Carmen in a cute way – not just blurt it out over dinner one night.

But she didn’t know how. She didn’t want it to be tacky, she wanted it to be sweet – maybe use something they could hold onto as the baby got older.

After a week of thinking it through and work-shopping a couple of items on Etsy, she had a solution. Tracking down a vintage baby Levi denim jacket wasn’t easy, but with enough money, anything was possible.  Six days later, she got the jacket back from an artist based in Chicago that had artfully stitched Sous Chef across the top back panel of the jacket. It was perfect, and she cried as she clutched it to her chest after opening the box up on campus.

She couldn’t risk Carmen finding it before it was time.

But the time had finally come. It had been nearly four weeks since she found out and she was bursting at the seams to finally tell him. Nerves shook her hands as she wrapped up the little jacket in plain brown wrapping paper, tying off the box with white ribbon.

She’d text Carmen that she’d pull together dinner that night. He’d been helping Natalie and Pete with the fence in their backyard for a few hours that afternoon and she’d prepared a big cheese board, salads and sandwiches for dinner – something that they ended up eating most nights.

She was just plating up the spring mix as Carmen walked through the door. She figured she’d save the gift for after dinner. She was starving after all, and didn’t think they’d get around to eating after she told him the big news.

“Mrs. Berzatto?” Carmen called out, hearing the tell-tale thunk of his shoe against the back of the entry closet.

“You hungry?” Vanessa called back, cracking open a ginger ale and leaning back against the kitchen counter. “I found the last bit of our jalapeno spread in the deli drawer.”

Carmen’s arms appeared around her waist, hugging her back against him.

In that moment, she realized she couldn’t eat more than half of what she’d plated up for dinner. No deli meat, no soft cheeses, no smoked salmon. She didn’t know all the rules, but she knew some of them. God she couldn’t eat sushi for nearly six more months?

She wondered if he could feel her little bump – did she even have a bump?

Oh my god she was pregnant.

“Starving,” He replied, kissing her neck gently.

“How are Nat and Pete?” She asked, hugging her arms against him.

“Enjoying their newly fixed fence,” Carmen said, rocking her gently back and forth. “Lily and Maxie were out with the babysitter, so didn’t get to see ‘em.”  Vanessa could feel his frown against her skin. Max was Nat and Pete’s rainbow baby after their miscarriage before Lily turned two. At fourteen months, he was a little monster that Carmen was absolutely obsessed with.

“They’re coming over this weekend,” she reminded gently. “Then we can give them the water table.”

“They’re gonna love it,” Carmen’s frown turned upside down.

Vanessa spun in his hold, taking in his beautiful features.

“Come on, handsome, there’s a salad out there calling my name,” she greeted him once again with a soft kiss.

“God I’m starving,” he said, squeezing her sides in his hand. “After dinner maybe we can walk down to Jeni’s for dessert?”

“That sounds like a magnificent idea,” Vanessa agreed. It was another sweltering late summer in Chicago and their air conditioning had been working overtime all week.

They shared dinner at the dining table, Vanessa’s feet in Carmen’s lap as he told her about his day. She’d been studying away for final projects and she could feel the shift in their life coming – a welcome, exciting shift. Maybe Carmen could feel it, too.

“You not hungry?” Carmen asked, noticing she’d barely picked at the cheeseboard and left most of her sandwich on her plate.

“I ate a big, heavy lunch today and for some reason this salad is the only thing calling my name,” she explained way. He didn’t blink twice and happily picked up her sandwich to put on his plate.

“I already know what flavor you’re going to get,” Carmen said as their hands swung between them, looking up at the board of flavors at Jeni’s.

“I think I’m going to change it up this time,” Vanessa replied.

“No gooey butter cake?” He asked. His wife was a severe creature of habit.

“Something about Savannah buttermint is really doing it for me this time,” she said, “will you get me two scoops?” Carmen shrugged, reaching the counter to order and grabbing his own scoop of salted caramel.

The noises Vanessa was making as they trekked back to their apartment were downright unholy.

“Good then?” Carmen asked with a laugh.

“Fuck Carmen, this ice cream is getting me wet,” she replied, only half-joking. Carmen honked out a laugh at her words.

“Wait, let me try,” he insisted, reaching his spoon over.

“Don’t you dare,” she pulled away, twisting her body so he couldn’t reach it.

“Vanessa!” He laughed, “you got two scoops, let me get a little nibble,” he said, only halfway sounding like a petulant child.

“I’m not sharing!” She said, shoveling another big bite into her mouth.

“C’mere,” he lured her in, sealing his mouth over hers in a kiss, getting all the flavor of the Savannah buttermint. “Wow, that is good,” he commented, proud to see he could still make his wife blush.

“Come on, I have a little something for you at home,” she teased out, piquing his interest.

“For me?” He asked, brows raised.

Vanessa finished her treat in the same time as Carmen, dropping their used cups in the garbage before she grabbed her perfectly wrapped package from their bedroom.

“Baby, what did you get me?” He asked, happily taking the box as she settled herself in his lap on the couch.

“I think you’ll like it,” she replied, “I love it,” she added quietly.

Carmen gave her an inquisitive look as he pulled the white ribbon, tearing the brown wrapping paper. Lifting the white tissue paper, he tossed the lid to the ground, revealing the little jacket.

“Ness?” He asked, holding it up in its entirety. It was impossibly small, and he heart lurched at the sight of it. She pushed the box to the ground as he turned it over, revealing the embroidery.

She could see Carmen’s brain stop working all together.

“Nessa?” He asked again, mouth agape and blue eyes wide. “Sous Chef?” He asked mostly to himself. “Ness is this for –“” His brain flipped around the babies they knew, Rosie, Lily, Max – they were all too big for this. “Vanessa are you pregnant?” He finally formed a full thought.

“Check the pocket,” she smiled serenely. Carmen reached in to pull out the infamous blue-capped test.

Pregnant.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked, looking absolutely shocked. “Vanessa please don’t tell me this is a joke,” he all but pleaded.

“It’s not a joke,” excited tears bubbled up to the surface. “I’m pregnant – went to the doctor and everything.”

“Ness – I” Carmen’s face morphed into pure joy, his lashes dark and slick with tears. He wrapped her up in the biggest hug he could, wanting to hold onto this moment forever in case it was another dream. “We’re having a baby,” he breathed in disbelief.

“We’re having a baby,” she laughed, nervous and excited giggles leaving her lips.

“You’re pregnant!” He exclaimed, “holy shit, Ness, it’s happening!” he pushed his hair back, holding his forehead underneath his palm.

“It’s happening!” She agreed.

“When,” he breathed in again, “when?” He implored.

“Valentine’s Day,” she giggled.

“Valentine’s Day?” He gaped, still in pure disbelief.

“Our little valentine,” she repeated, tears now flowing down her cheeks.

“So you’re – you’re almost three months?” He asked.

“Next week I’ll be out of my first trimester,” she replied, “happy birthday.” Carmen would turn thirty-two next week.

Carmen leaned forward, kissing her soundly, his hand sliding up her back to cradle her head in his palms.

“I love you so much,” he shook his head. “We’ve got to build a nursery.”

Vanessa laughed at his thought process, stroking the back of his neck gently.

“We have so much time,” she insisted.

“Ness it’s going to fly by,” he replied. “We can get painters out here next week.”

“And what color are we painting, huh?” She asked with a tilt of her head. “Should we find out?”

Carmen froze. They were either going to have a baby boy or a baby girl and even now, with just two options, it seemed like a universe of possibilities.

“I want to find out,” he said, eyes almost desperate. “I don’t think I can wait till February to know.”

“I want out find out, too,” Vanessa agreed. “It’s been killing me to walk by all the baby boutiques and not buying anything,” Carmen laughed at her honesty.

An hour later, they were laying in bed, Carmen’s head resting gently on Vanessa’s stomach.

“It’s the size of a cherry right now,” Vanessa said, combing her fingers through Carmen’s hair. He was due for a haircut, but she loved it long and shaggy in the summer.

“A cherry,” he repeated, marveling. “A little rainier,” he commented. “I think she’s more like a little maraschino,” Vanessa replied.

“You think it’s a girl?” He asked, hand resting gently below her belly button.

“I have no idea,” she said honestly. “It’s fun to picture it.”

Carmen nuzzled against her, feeling like he was positively floating.

“Thank you,” he said, lifting his head to look Vanessa in the eye.

“Well my love, I really couldn’t do it without you,” Vanessa smiled. “I’m impressed honestly, my gynecologist was impressed, too.” Carmen laughed softly, placing his head back down against the warmth of her body.

“How are we ever supposed to sleep again?” Carmen asked, “I’m too excited to sleep.”

“Baby I think our days of sleep are officially over,” Vanessa admitted.

Carmen began to run through it all in his head. He’d never put anything before his baby. He knew that some adjustments would be on the horizon, because he wouldn’t give up a single minute with his growing family.