#i genuinely feel unable to move most of the time

[madizenmadi]

the state of the world and assholes in it really truly genuinely make me want to cry i cant even enjoy social media anymore

[agayconcept]

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[jinkiezzsstuff]

Hello dear!! I have a request for the Radio Demon

Do you mind writing sub!Alastor? Imagine your in lobby of the hotel with your beloved Alastor (on his lap) and you decide to do some frisky cockwarming with him.. well in the beginning he has control but then maybe Charlie or Lucifer u walks in.. you decide to tease him until he can't take it anymore and ends up having to cover his moans as he gums in you..

Welp! That's my request🎀 you can delete this ofc but do as you will ~

from windigo anon🦌

i’m drooling, frothing at the mouth, going insane, i love this idea!!! eeeee thank you so much i hope this was good enough i struggled a bit with cockwarming so i hope i did well

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, cockwarming, SUB!Alastor/DOM!Reader, creampie, possible breeding kink, exhibitionism, Lucifer knows what you’re doing, he’s the devil, and you use him to tease Al, jealous lucifer, lucifer is a cuck lowkey, reader wears a dress but no gendered terms or anything, maybe threesome elements?, OOC ALASTOR, NOT proof read, LMK what i missed! xo

word count: 1.9K

You and Alastor have been a thing for a very long time, and throughout the years he’d become rather comfortable with sexual intimacy. Alastor always held the reigns no matter where in life he was, that is excluding the bedroom. Alastor had made a foolish deal with you long ago, he wanted your soul and you were a fairly powerful demon at the time so there was a sit down conversation about such endeavours. You agreed to sell your soul and tie yourself to him, complete all tasks he needed done, so long as he was your bitch. Well, that wording wasn’t used back then, nor was there any sexual innuendos in the mix.

Before it simply meant he couldn’t try to place fear into you, he always had to speak truthfully when it came to you, and if plan involved you, essentially to the outside world he was allowed to look like the boss but behind closed doors he wasn’t allowed to pull that stunt. You two ended up getting along quite nicely as the years went by, your magic side of the deal made it so if he broke his promises, the deal would be off and more then likely fatal to the both of you, so it wasn’t too surprising things went well.

What was surprising was the relationship you developed, Alastor was unable to lie to you about most things due to your deal and most of the time you approached him as a peer lacking judgement. Even when you disagreed with his plans you still still gave your genuine advice and thoughts which made him trust you. Slowly through this weird bond of trust and leaning on each other, Alastor developed romantic feelings and thank god you felt them back.

Alastor was slow to warm up to affections, which meant you normally took over, letting him keep his poise and smile you’d always make the first move, asking for consent to push further whether it was a simple hug, kiss, or a little more frisky. Eventually though, things got to the point they’re at now, where Alastor craves you like his lungs crave air. He is ravenous for your touch, your kiss, your head surrounding his cock. It’s a tough couple months during mating season because he begs and begs for you like a starved man.

Because of his eagerness for you, and to please you, he’s very kindly broadened his horizons leading to absolutely tasteful trying of kinks. Recently the two of you have been planted at the hotel, Alastor called upon you the day he got there, and privately when alone explained his plans with the Devils child, your man had always been an ambitious one, but you couldn’t say no to him. So of course you stood alongside his plans, and now you’re not only dealing with the Devils child, but the devil himself.

Lucifer moved himself in after the big ol’ brawl, and thankfully things have gone somewhat smoothly between Alastor and Lucifer, as in they haven’t killed each other yet, but Lucifer made it his absolute mission to try and “steal you away,” like he did with Adam. Obviously you were committed to Alastor, but your mind would wander to sinful places about all the ways you could show Lucifer how much you loved you deer man. Oh and you just knew how.

Alastor sat in the lobby, looking through a newspaper as he sipped his coffee, music humming softly in the background. The whole lobby was vacant, even Husk was gone for the moment, you made sure of it. Walking into the lobby from the kitchen, your dress flowing around your legs, you walked up to Alastor with a warm smile on your face. “What’re you up to my dear?” You ask softly, making him hum eyes shifting from his newspaper to you, dragging up your form. “Just a little bit of reading, nothing much my doe,” Alastor seemed sleepy almost in the state he was in, his voice was soft and lacking his usual enthusiasm, however it wasn’t a state you were unfamiliar with knowing him for so long.

Slowly you lowered yourself sideways onto his lap, he complied with your actions wordlessly by whisking his newspaper away with his magic, allowing you to scootch yourself right up on him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you played with the short hairs at the base, causing him to visibly shiver. Alastor smiled down at you softly, watching you tenderly. “I feel,” You whispered with a pause, mimicking somebody taking a thoughtful breath. “Needy.” You breathe out with a cheesy smile plastered on your face. Alastor jolts a bit still entirely not used to forward language such as that, but he didn’t say anything simply blinked at you.

“I think i’m gonna lift this dress up, and your gonna unbuckle these pants, and i’m gonna seat myself nice n comfy on ya,” You purred hands messaging all around his chest as you spoke, trailing down to the button of his slacks and back up to his shoulders. You felt him twitch against his pants, the blood obviously was already flowing to his groin. “Dear we’re in public.” Try as he may, Alastors words were wobbly and his smile looked more like a grimace.

“No baby, we’re in private, in our new home, at the hotel, where no one can see.” You cooed condescendingly, pulling your hands away to hike up your dress. Alastor dared to looked down as you bunched your dress at your hips. Alastor closed his eyes, head falling back at the sight of you bare, nothing but your dress skirt keeping you covered. Turning yourself around, you put your back to him, grinding yourself down on him teasingly.

“Y’know what to do, don’t make me say it dear.” Your voice was stern compared to the tone you held before, Alastor blew out air at your words, head still thrown back at rest on the back of the sofa. Finally he brought his hands from the resting position next to him, and freed himself from his slacks and boxers. You sighed happily as you slowly inched your way down on him, Alastors hands gripped your hips harshly, and his legs kicked out and spasmed every inch you took down.

Once buttoned out, you fixed your gown to flow around you, and backed yourself up against his chest, head rested on his shoulder. Brining his head up to gaze down at you, Alastor gave you a questioning look, sweat already gathering on his forehead. “Dear please-” Alastors words got caught off by a boisterous call, and the front door swinging open. Fixing his posture, Alastor snapped into position, positioning his legs up right feet on the floor, straightening his back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up with him.

“Hellloooo everybody! Just had an amazing meeting, everything went in my favour, as always.” Lucifer waltzed in swinging his cane. He briefly paused scanning the room to see only you two sitting stiffly. You were more relaxed, eyes littled with an easygoing smile, Alastor however was tense; his smile was tight and unfriendly, with his eye twitching. “Well hello there you two, lovely to see you here.” Lucifer smiled happily plopping himself on the couch next to you, making you two shake.

The small bit of motion from Lucifer throwing himself down, made you clench, your arousal leaking down Alastors cock and onto his pants. Clearing his throat to suppress a moan, Alastor then gave a tiny ‘hello’ to the devil. Turning your body more toward the devil, you made sure to pick yourself up off Alastor a bit, and lower yourself back down, making him sink his nails into you.

Wrapping one arm around Alastors neck, you leaned sideways against him, facing Lucifer, your skirt successfully obstructing the entire view of your sin. “Do tell Luce.” You urge pretending to care, Lucifer caught on to the strange behaviour immediately however he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it yet, so he pushed on shrugging and explaining his meeting. You coyly moaned occasionally throughout his explanations playing it off as “oh”s and “ah”s to his story rather than Alastors twitching cock.

Leaning forward Alastor stuck his blushing face in your hair, breathing heavily into it. “Is he doing okay?” Lucifer asked suddenly, quirking a brow at Alastor. Around your waist Alastors arms tightened, and his legs once again spread and splayed out a bit allowing him more space. Alastor felt pitiful, but in a way he loved it, only you had this power and nobody else, he could live with that. Alastor was too blitzed out to realise he’d subtly humped up into you, needing some sort of release. Playing with Alastors hair, you shrugged your shoulders at the devil, your poise still in tacked.

“Yes, I do believe he’s a little sickly.” Lucifer noticed the twitch in Alastors hips now, his eyes growing in size every so slightly. “Yknow i just want to stay something Lucifer,” You begin to say, eyeing Al from your peripheral, seeing his eyes closed. “I really think we ought to stop with the battle, Alastor treats me very well, very good,” You purr fixing your posture, making Alastor groan into your hair.

“I think it’s time to stop with the whole ‘i could take your partner’ shtick.” You say sharply, with finality, Lucifers eyes at this point were flicking back and forth between the two of you, a prominent blush on his face. You grinned cheekily once again and shifted again trying to fix yourself to face forward again, as you did so you heard Lucifer take a breath to speak, but it got interrupted by a guttural groan from Alastor.

Without warning Alastors legs flexed his hips jerking involuntarily up against you, it caught you off guard and made you gasp and moan. It didn’t stop after one thrust, Alastor sunk his teeth into your shoulder jerking his hips up into you, panting and groaning without care. With one forceful thrust and growl, you whined feeling him force himself against you fully, cumming far up into you, stealing your breath. Lucifer watched bug eyed and taken aback, he never saw Alastor so pleasured, now he felt a ping of jealousy; before this moment he wanted to steal you away to show you how much better he can fuck you compared to Alastor, now he wanted you to fuck him and make him feel the way Alastor felt now.

Alastors form grew demonic, stretching and contorting, you still in his lap. You didn’t move an inch as he contorted, not afraid of Alastor what so ever. Alastors neck snapped inhumanely to Lucifer. “You are to never speak of this again.” Alastors voice didn’t sound like his own when he spoke, and whether or not Lucifer was truly scared didn’t matter as he fumbled, stuttered and then stumbled off covering his eyes and apologising. With the snap of his fingers, Alastor magicked the two of you in the safety of his radio tower, where no one dared to enter unwelcomed. “Dear, that was unacceptable. But amusing, you get away with this little fiasco only because it was Lucifer you did it in front of.”

Alastor growled at you demonic form on display, smile stretched, he had your cheeks tightly pinched in between his nails. Shrugging your shoulders, you tiptoed up to give his teeth a coy kiss. “Whatever maybe now he’ll leave us alone.”

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

My girlfriend requested this

Hazbin men trying the period simulator. Somewhat of a follow up to my period post so this is based on the reader having severe period pain due to PCOS/ENDO

Lucifer

The man is sweating before you even attach the simulator. He knows he fucked up. He only agreed to this because he loves you a lot.

He handles the first 3 levels ok. You tell him very few women experience that little pain and that usually 4-6 is the average.

Those levels make him tense. He's uncomfortable, but still pretty able to work and do normal things. 5 has him pausing to do deep breaths every now and then. (If this is the canon timeline where he birthed Charlie he compares it to bad kicks).

6-8 he's pretty much doubled over. If you tell him that's the level you experience, he will cry. Literally begs forgiveness since again, period and labor pain is technically his fault. He is so sorry. If he didn't have issues with his Dad before he does now because this is fucked up. God's fucked up for doing this.

He doesn't make it to 10, he's crying by level 9. This is labor levels of pain. He gets why all you do is sleep. Treats your period like a sacred ritual after that. Preps for weeks. He goes full Bible, sheltering you for the duration of it so you can have peace and quiet. Please never hook him up to this again.

If you wear it at anything from an 8-10 and tell him "It's close, but I've hurt worse" he's gonna sob and then try and fight his Old Man again. He'll settle for offering to have your bits removed for you.

Vox

Once again this man hates admitting he was wrong. And yeah he knows your periods are really bad, especially now he's witnessed it. But it's still a huge knowledge gap for him and he doesn’t really take the time to think about it.

He handles 1-5 well. He's mildly uncomfortable by 5, but thinks that if this is the average experience, then it's not such a big deal. Tell him the statistics on how many people with periods actually experience 6-8 because that's actually the majority, and he's just confused. How is the average pain level not the most common?

6-8 has him gritting his teeth and glitching, but he refuses to stop and keeps trying to work. Is starting to wonder how you went so long working with this level of pain without him noticing.

He makes it to 10, but by then, he's unable to move, clutching his abdomen and sparking and glitching. Tells you it feels like his entire insides are being squeezed. The fact that he can feel it in his groin. He's kind of afraid of period sex with you after that because of how much he felt it. And you said it's caused cramps from your ribs to your knees. He's like... genuinely scared of your period and pain tolerance.

He's going to snuggle the fuck out of you afterwards and apologize for not appreciating how much you still do for him when you're not feeling good. How he didn't see how hurt you were. He does a lot of research after that and not only does he spoil you by buying whatever you need for your periods and giving you time off, he looks into treatment options. Even if that means chopping the useless fucking things out. Sinners can't have kids anyway so who needs ovaries and a uterus?

He's more convinced you should just be rid of the damn things when you wear it and 8-10 is "Yeah, this is close, but it doesn't really cover how much of my body hurts".

Valentino

Is only doing this because he was dared to by Velvette. Or if this an au where he's trying to be a less toxic person. But really I think it's also to prove that you're all being dramatic. It's a perfectly normal body function and his employees are just trying to get out of work.

He gets all the way to 6 before he starts to realize he may have fucked up. Especially when it's explained that this is what most people experience.

By 10 he's gritting his teeth, chain smoking, clawing at things. He refuses to give in, but he can count on one hand the number of things in his entire life and death as a pimp and a whore that he's experienced that come close to this level of pain.

No one told him his dick was gonna hurt. Sitting hurts. Breathing hurts. He doesn't even try to eat. He won't ever admit to being wrong, but he does behave more leniently with his actors when they're on their periods.

If you put it on (and lets say he actually cares about you) and setting 8-10 is "Yeah, this an average day for my cramps. My bad days are like..5 or 6 levels worse" it's gonna rearrange his brain a little. He might be a little afraid of you and some of the other actors with periods because your pain tolerances are so high. It threatens his ability to control you and them. But on the other hand, that's kinda hot???

Alastor

Has never once doubted that people who experience periods undergo serious struggle and has nothing but respect for women (and trans people he just associates it with women more because of the time period and his mama) who work through it.

He is actually the one who heard about the simulator through Rosie and asks you to show him your experience. Just to better understand you. He knows you're the type to try and function through the pain (probably because society ingrained into you that your pain doesn't matter).

Initially, he wants to skip the lower levels and just have you set it to your pain level. You tell him that's a bad idea, and to be honest, you're not sure if this thing goes that high. He asks you to check and you set it to the highest setting and say, "It's pretty close. It's been worse, but this is a rough idea," he's a little frustrated but still tries it.

You agree to set it to 4 and tell him 4-6 is what most people report feeling. He acknowledges it, registers it as unpleasant, but otherwise is fully capable.

7-9 has his ears flat, his smile is more a snarl. This is uncomfortable. Not what he considers painful but certainly irritating. It makes sitting, stretching, and eating feel much more difficult.

10. There's static visble around him. His teeth grind. Actually painful. Not the worst pain he's experienced, but he hates it. He hates the way he feels it in his back and hips as he walks. He hates the way taking deep breaths (which for someone as dramatic as he is and with the transatlantic accent, breathing technique and posture is important) stings. He hates the way it causes his stomach to cramp and churn. He hates the ache in his thighs and groin that make sitting feel stiff and ackward. He can only picture how blood loss would make this worse. Tired, losing nutrients, the headaches, the increased moodiness. It's no wonder you sleep, so much, but he wonders how the Hell you sleep like this? He's snappy and short tempered because of the pain (and again he gets why you would be if you weren't sleeping so much).

How does this affect how he treats you?

Not much. He still expects you to know your body and your limits. He would never dare to presume otherwise. He still helps prepare whatever you need for your time of the month and still meal plans for you, though he perhaps finds ways to ensure you get all the iron and vitamins you need without cooking steak and other big, heavy meals, since he now understands how bad your stomach hurts.

The only really noticeable change is how much more protective of you he is. Your time of the month hits, and Alastor hates being more than a few moments from you. He growls, pins his ears, and his antlers grow when people get too close to you. He's more prone to letting you snuggle with him when you want, trying to comfort you.

Angel Dust

Another who volunteered. His girl besties insist he doesn't have to do this, he's got the pass. He still wants to do it though, for solidarity.

He also starts on 4 and handles it well. He handles all of the levels pretty well, even 10. By 7 it's obvious he's sore, maybe a bit more withdrawn, exhausted, trying not to move too much or eat too much. Just trying to find a comfortable way to exist. The sad problem is, Angel already has to do this after rough nights at Val's.

He's used to sitting being uncomfortable and aches in his groin and thighs, cramps in his stomach from muscles clenching constantly. 10 is the only level where he's visibly ill, hunched over, lower arms curled around his midsection protectively.

He and the girlies all curl up together and nap and chat and snack on easy to digest junk food and granola bars. He's the first one to say "I bet it's even worse for you gals, but I tried".

He gets it. He's one of the girls. Honestly, kind of becomes a favorite when the ladies have period problems. (If you're dating any of the others and Angel is openly your favorite after this it is gonna cause a lot of dramatic pouting, posturing, and tantrum throwing.)

Husk

I'm going full balls to the wall on Veteran Husk. This man has seen some shit and dealt with his fair share of pain. Like Angel he takes it the best, with very little outward reaction. He's used to stiffness and nausea. The pain in his crotch is a little off putting, but it could be worse.

He's more cautious how he moves, rests more, occasionally a cramp causes his ears to pin back or a small hiss. Overall he takes it like a champ.

Offers you endless amounts of supportive words for dealing with this as well as you do, for days on end. Also is deeply sorry you even have to put up with this shit. Offers all sorts of tips on how to do stretches that help with easing cramps and stiffness without pulling something. Tips of foods/protein drinks to keep on hand to make sure you're maximizing how much nutrition you get. Man's a whole ass survival guide.

He only offers advice if you ask, though. He's not mansplaining how to handle your own body. He genuinely wants to help you, and that's the best way he knows how.

When you're on your period and just want something soft and warm he doesn't even bitch about it, he just settles on top of you and purrs, offers a massage, maybe offers a sly grin and a "no man left behind" joke as he helps you through these dark times.

BONUS:

ADAM

Would only do this if you challenged him, he has to prove his masculinity. He is definitely nervous as fuck though because he's seen yours. You and Lute already forced him to sit through a whole PowerPoint on women's anatomy and shit. He remembers how shitty he was to Eve, even if hers were in comparison, not that bad, just scary and new.

You forcing him to learn about and acknowledge female health is making him scared of pussy. This isn't gonna help.

3 and 4 make him whiney. He's uncomfortable. His groin feels weird. This sucks. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS ISN'T EVEN THE AVERAGE?!"

By 5-7 he's actually on his knees, curled over his stomach. He tells you getting stabbed hurt less. This is making him re-evaluate his entire view on women (again he knows about trans people, but because of personal history equates periods to women. Wouldn't hate if a trans person had a period, it would just take his brain a second to process). He whines that you and Lute shouldn't be more badass than him.

"I thought men were supposed to be tougher and stronger. This pain tolerance horseshit is a lie. You guys suck."

He insists on going to 10 because quitting is for losers. He may actually throw up at 10 though. Every time the stupid simulators sends out a pulse and his stomach clenches, he groans. He's in the featal position, there are tears. One hand clenches his stomach the other is cupped around his groin. He's apologizing so much and he doesn't even remember what he's apologizing for. At one point its just "I'm sorry...oh fuck this...sorry about...ugh just...just men?! I guess. Fucking shit ass. Men suck. Women are...fucking great. Aces. You do this shit every month? For like 5 days....what the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck."

You feel a little bad, but Lute is definitely filming this. Afterwards, he tells you you're a badass and any person shit talking people for bitching about period pain (Not that a lot of Winners do, but ya know, obviously they let some questionable people into Heaven if Adam and Lute got by) he's gonna beat the shit out of them. Like "Do you even fucking know, bitch? They're literally so much fucking better than you. Absolute queens. You try doing literally anything when it feels like your dick is falling off and your insides are trying to claw outside your body!"

[angel5ofp0rn]

Ummm, how about price sabotaging the dates that the reader goes to

he would never do such a thing…

♡ part six ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

*im so shy at writing smut plz b patient ._.

“John, I really can't talk right now.”

“Who is he?”

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. You knew better than to talk about your plans around the children.

“He's just...” You sigh, unable to lie to him even though you wanted to. “His daughter is on Gabriel's soccer team.”

The line is silent.

“…John?

“Have you been seeing each other for a while, then?”

“This is none of your-”

“How long have you been seeing him?” John reworded his question, sounding more stern than casual.

You don’t need to tell him anything. It’s been a month since the two of you kissed outside of your oldest child’s school, and that was an accident.

“It’s our first date.” You mumble your admission.

John grunts, as if he’s finding the news amusing.

You look over yourself in the mirror, suddenly feeling anxious. Shaking hands smooth over your little black dress, you run your fingers through your hair.

God, why does he still have this effect on you?

“Where’s he takin’ you?” John asks casually. “That little Italian place you like?”

You roll your eyes at this, picking your phone back up from where it was laying atop your vanity.

“I’m hanging up now.” You huff. “Tell the kids I love them.”

You didn’t give John a chance to say anything else before ending the call.

•••

The ambiance of the Italian restaurant is warm and inviting, with soft lighting and a gentle murmur of conversation. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort from your phone call with John.

Tonight is about moving forward. For leaving your past in the past.

Your date, Matt, smiles at you across the table, his dark eyes twinkling in the low light.

"I'm really glad you agreed to go out with me," he says, his voice warm and genuine.

You return his smile, feeling grateful for his patience and understanding even after the several times you’d turned him down.

You were too busy, Linnie was sick, you had to go in to work…

You were hung up on John.

"Me too," you say softly.

As you delve into conversation, the outside world fades away. The past is in the past.

For the first time in a long while, you weren’t thinking about John.

Just as you start to lose yourself in the moment, a familiar voice interrupts from behind you.

“Mummy!”

Your heart sinks as you see John, that smug grin playing on his lips. On either side of him were your children, wide-eyed and excited, each clutching one of his hands.

"Daddy said we're having a fancy dinner!" your youngest exclaims, bouncing with enthusiasm as they approach your table.

Your stomach churns with disbelief as you try to comprehend what's happening. "John, what are you doing?" you demand, your voice tight with frustration.

He shrugs, his expression unapologetic. "The kids wanted to go out for dinner," he says casually, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

You glance at Matt, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "I'm so sorry," you murmur, mortified by the scene unfolding before you. “This is my-”

“John Price,” John reaches out to shake hands with your date, “Ex husband. SAS.”

“Uh… Matt.” Your date introduces himself, looking to you in confusion.

“I’m so sorry…” You squeeze your eyes closed, trying not to cry out of pure frustration. “I didn’t know he was going to do this.”

“Where’s our chairs?” Your oldest looks at you, noticing your table only had a seat for you and your date.

“We’ll be right over here, buddy.” John smiles, guiding the kids to the table next to your own.

It had a folded card on top that read “Reserved”.

This wasn’t a spur of the moment stunt.

John knew about your date and planned on crashing it all along.

You glance helplessly at Matt, feeling a pang of guilt for dragging him into this mess.

To your surprise, he reaches out to squeeze your hand, a small smile on his lips.

“Maybe we should go,” he says gently.

You nod, grateful that he’s so… understanding.

The two of you stand, and before you leave you stop by John’s table to give each of the kids a kiss on the cheek and let them know that you’ll see them tomorrow. You don’t even glance at John.

•••

“I had a really good time tonight,” Matt smiles as the two of you stand on your doorstep.

You hardly believe him; after John pulled that stunt at the restaurant, you were sure Matt would completely lose interest in pursuing this any further…

But to your surprise, he tried to make sure you enjoyed the rest of the night. The two of you had an impromptu picnic at the park, got ice cream and he even bought you flowers.

Matt is so… Nice.

“I did, too.” You smile, looking at your date with a small blush on your cheeks.

The two of you stare at each other for a beat before Matt speaks again, shyly this time.

“I’d really like to kiss you, if that’s okay.”

“That won’t be happening, mate.” John announces in the now open doorway, a bowl of cereal in his hand.

“John-!”

“Oh…” Matt blushes, taking a step back. “You two are still living together..?”

“No, we’re not,” You explain desperately. “John, what the fuck are you doing here?!”

John shrugs, taking another bite of his late-night snack. “Kids missed their real beds. I have the emergency key.”

You glare at him. He smiles.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll call you, yeah?” Matt offers as he starts towards his car. “It was nice seeing you.”

“Have a good night, Mike.” John waves with a grin, knowing damn well his name is Matt, not Mike.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” You grumble, pushing past him into the house.

“What? I was bein’ nice to him.” John plays innocent, pushing the door closed with his foot. “Wasn’t really your type, though.”

“What’re you talking about?” You frown, removing your earrings.

John smirks. “He has brown eyes.”

You look at him like he’s insane… because you fully believe that is.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You like blue eyes, lovey.” John says softly, setting the bowl on the coffee table in the living room. “Mad for ‘em. You’d chase a man out to the parking lot over a pair of blue eyes.”

You don’t say a word.

John takes the bouquet of tulips from Matt from your hands, looking them over. You just watch.

“Doesn’t he know you hate tulips?” He looks back up to you, an eyebrow raised.

“Don’t be an ass.” You mumble, taking them back. “How would he know that? This was our first date.”

“I knew by our first date.” John counters, his arms crossing over his chest. “Knew you wanted a white house with a garden in the back, a big bathroom with a claw tub, an engagement ring with a garnet or a pearl instead of an ‘ugly silver and diamond ring’… and a hundred blue-eyed babies.”

You look down at your tulips, then back up at John.

You hate that he’s right. That he knows you too well. That he always has.

“You still didn’t have to crash my date.” You mumble, sitting down on the sofa, laying the flowers down next to you.

“Couldn’t help it, love. I go after what I want.”

John’s familiar words made you feel something in the pit of your stomach… Something you couldn’t quite name.

You lean back on the sofa, lifting your foot to him.

John crouches down to help you remove your heels, gently setting them aside.

“So, how was he?” John murmurs, his hands creeping up under your dress and starting to slowly pull your panties down your thighs.

You lift your hips, making it easier for him. “He was nice…”

“Hm.” John shakes his head with a tut. “You’ve never liked the nice ones.”

You watch as your panties are now being pulled down around your ankles, John’s head near your knees. He looks up for a moment, waiting for your signal.

You run your fingers through his hair gently before pushing his head towards your sex.

John wasted no time pushing your dress up your thighs and pulling you closer to devour you like he was starving.

Something about John on his knees in front of you, your legs over his shoulders...

“You’re such an asshole,” You groan.

John pulls back, lifting his head from your wet, needy pussy. He’s teasing you out of revenge, you’re sure of it.

Your back arches, trying to get his mouth back where you want it, but John leans back a bit more.

“John,” You whine, desperately trying to push his head back down.

“What is it, lovey? Hm?” John asks softly, pushing his fingers into your entrance, slowly dragging them in and out as he looks up at you. “Tell me wha’ you want.”

“I want-” You bite back a moan. “I want you.”

“You have me, sweetheart. Always have.” John’s husky words sounded like poetry.

You nod, because he’s right.

It doesn’t take long for John to make you come; he still knows your body better than anyone ever will.

He presses a few gently kisses to the inside of your thigh before pulling back. He rubs your legs as you come down from your climax.

“Forgive me, lovey?” He asks smugly.

You nod, a small smile on your lips to go with your flushed cheeks and heavy eyelids.

“Good. Now c’mere, you never got that goodnight kiss.”

<< prev next >>

[neo-nomatrix]

10 Things I hate about you

Hobie brown x reader

word count: 1120

(My) Nuisance masterlist

Synopsis: You have hated your neighbor for one year, 3 months, and 8 days. You hate his hair, his boots, his obnoxious music, and most of all you hate the way you love him

a/n; This is the last part of the main (My) Nuisance story! Other installments will be on parters about reader and Hobie before and after the main plot. Thank you to everyone who loves this story it means the world to me!

Being neighbors with Hobie has been one of the most frustrating, exhausting, and confusing experiences of your life. He has truly put you through hell and back.

1. I hate the way you talk to me and the way you do your hair.

If someone had told you one year ago you would be completely head of heels for Hobie you most likely would have laughed in their face. If someone had told you he was the man under Spider-punk's mask you would have jumped off a bridge right then and there. Yet here you are, searching your brain for answers about Hobie and his feelings wondering what you got yourself into.

2. I hate the way you lie to me and your stupid boot buckles.

The unbearable truth was, Hobie got to you. Most importantly he hurt you in the process. You weren’t supposed to get close to him, you weren’t supposed to fall in love with him but you did. He had completely forgotten about the night before and it hurt you more than anything. You genuinely thought he liked you, as luck would have it he confessed to you that he was a compulsive liar when he drank too much. Leading you into realizing he didn’t mean it, why would he? He seemed like the type who would flirt with you just as a fun game, you didn’t know what you were expecting.

3. I hate you so much it makes me mad, it makes my head spin, my stomach ties into knots, makes me weak in the legs.

Was that what this was? A sick joke? A game to him? Just thinking about that made you want to scream at him. Yell at him, tell him how angry you were with the fact that he played with your feelings. You wanted to scream at him and give him a piece of your mind. Yet you couldn’t. You have always been able to yell at Hobie, always. Even over dumb things like the way he talked. But now, it’s different. You wanted to get up and yell at him but you stayed sitting on the ground. Legs to your chest and you just sat there. Unable to move, frozen in that position.

4. I hate it when you’re out all night drinking and the way it makes me worry, worry so much that I stay up all night waiting to hear your stupid boots.

You hear a knock at the door and know it’s him. Of course it’s him, in your time living here he was the only person to ever knock on your door.

“Love? I- I want to talk to you. Can you let me in?” He asked, his voice quiet.

5. I hate your stupid smile and the way you purposefully play your guitar too loud just so i’ll come over.

He takes your silence as an answer, he’s about to say something and then pauses.

“When you were in my room you found a box. It had your stuff in it and a letter. I wrote the letter for you. You deserve to read it. I have your necklace and ring too, sorry bout that,” he gave you an awkward laugh.

“No, I shouldn't have even known about it,” you’re surprised you could even speak to him, “I don’t want to read it either,” you say quickly.

“You have a right to know what it says, okay? At least let me tell you.”

6. I hate that you were so easy to fall in love with.

A few seconds after he finished talking he turned the doorknob and walked into your flat.

“I don’t know what I said to you last night but I'm sorry. Whatever-“ you cut him off before he can finish.

“Don’t. I know you didn’t mean it so don’t. It doesn’t matter now I'm over it,” you brush him off.

“So uhm, what did i say exactly?” He questions

“I said it doesn’t matter, piss off!” you snap.

You both look away from each other, unable to speak.

7. I hate the way you hurt me and the way you made me get close to you. It would be so much easier to despise you if you weren’t so handsome.

“The letter talks about how much I love you, alright? Ever since the day we met and you gave me that stupid note I have been in love with you. You really don’t see the way I look at you? Or- or how I'm extra loud when I know you're trying to sleep? I would do anything just to look at you, that is how in love I am with you. I don’t know if you’re really just clueless or you’re trying to ignore the signs but I am pulling every string to try and make you fall in love with me. Is that what you want to hear?” He’s out of breath by the time he finishes. Tears are brewing in the corner of his eye.

8. I hate it when you say exactly what I want you to say.

“Yeah, actually it kind of is. You told me that it hurt when I didn't show up for our date. I thought you did like me, but then you said you lied when you were drunk. And I don't know why but I believed you,” You confess.

9. I hate it when we don’t talk and the way you make me feel. I hate that I didn't understand those stomach knots were me falling in love.

“No no no, I thought I said something that would upset you. Of course I meant that, Love,” he said, holding your face in his hands. The cold metal of his rings touching you.

“You mean that?” you ask.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything else,” he smiles. God that stupid smile.

“You also, kind of told me something else. You said you were uhm, Spiderman?” you nervously asked.

He visibly tensed up.

“Oh that, well I guess there’s no point in lying huh?”

“So you are?”

“Yeah, for the last three years. But I don’t believe in labels, they’re stupid,” he shrugs

“That’s pretty embarrassing for me then, hm?” you look around your spiderman themed room.

“Nah, I think it’s pretty cute,” he says, making you blush.

“Why don’t we start over? We can go out on a proper date, forget any of this happened. I promise, no standing each other up and we’ll be so happy,” He says, grinning ear to ear.

“Alright then, where should we go?”

10. You especially hate the way you don’t hate him at all. You don’t like him either. You love him. You’re in love with Hobie Brown, your nuisance.

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*If your user wasn’t tagged and showed up as just text it’s because you have something changed in settings

[raythekiller]

could you plz do the creeps realizing they like someone & what they do abt their feelings?? thank you sm !

🗒 ❛ Realizing They're In Love ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Jeff The Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Masky, Hoodie

#Notes: warning for some light angst in some parts (mainly EJ and LJ)

pronouns used:

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jeff The Killer

He absolutely hates the way you make him feel and will be extra mean to you because of it. He doesn't even realize what the feelings are at first, he just knows they make him feel vulnerable and weak and he despises that and, by correlation, despises you as well. Once he does realize it though (after a good, good while) he'll still be mean, but more in a teasing sort of way. You can probably tell he has something for you because of how possessive he gets, always wanting your attention to be towards him and getting jealous every time you spend time with other people. He'll just keep behaving that way and getting increasingly upset that you won't notice his "obvious" flirting.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ben Drowned

Now this guy is the most shameless simp to have ever simped on the face of the Earth. That being said, he's not used to actually having feelings for someone - normally it only goes as far as physical attraction. So while he is normally decent at flirting (again, if you like cringe pickup lines at all), it all goes down the drain as soon as he realized he's actually, genuinely down bad. Suddenly he's stuttering, unable to get sentences out right, and finds his mind going blank whenever you're around, just fidgeting with his fingers nervously instead of trying to make a move. It's cute if you're into shy guys.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ticci Toby

Another one who's a little bit oblivious to his own feelings for a long, long time. All he knows is that you remind him of simpler times, times where things were better, so he wants to be around you as often as he possibly can. You'll be sitting side by side and he'll see your hand resting by your body and the thought of grabbing it crossed his mind, his heart immediately started beating faster to the point he had to excuse himself. That's when he knew. Though he is quite shy by nature, he'll try his best to be a little bolder in his own way, complimenting you more and being a little more physical. One of the only guys who isn't afraid to confess first, though his is a little bit more in the heat of the moment than a well planned out romantic confession.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Eyeless Jack

Now with him, things are a little more complicated. He has what I like to call "villain complex", where he truly and genuinely believes himself to be an awful, disgusting and vile person. Hell, not even a person - a demon. He lacks any kind of good opinion about himself, so when he realizes (quite fast, at that) that he has feelings for you? He feels offended on your behalf. To have a monster, an abomination like him be in love with you, something so good and pure in his eyes, is like the ultimate offense to him. So, he won't act on his feelings. Honestly, he'll even hope that you manage to get with someone else so he can know you're genuinely, truly happy and move on. It's very plausible you two won't ever end up together. Unless you decide to take matters into your own hands, that is.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Laughing Jack

Jack is a little bit of a wild card. He naturally has a flirty personality, so you won't know that he's serious unless he decides to tell you, which he probably won't for a good long while yet. That's because, unless he tells you about it, he doesn't actually have anything to lose. His main fear is that you'll be disgusted by those feelings he has, disgusted by him, and decide to leave him just like everyone else did. It's not even rejection that he's so afraid of, it's abandonment. So, while he has one of the easiest times accepting his feelings, he'll be one of the worst when it comes to acting on them.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Masky

Pretty similar to Jeff, but also complete opposites in some ways. While he is extra mean to you because you make him feel vulnerable, it's also because he's hyper aware of what he's feeling towards you. He's a grown man, he knows attraction when he feels it, sexual or romantic, but that doesn't make him hate it any less. Unlike Jeff who's an asshole as a way of flirting, Tim is an asshole to get you to hate him. If you just despise him, his feelings should technically go away as well, so that's what he's aiming at. He already has enough problems in his life, a "silly little crush" (as he calls it) isn't another one that he needs or wants to deal with. Again, if you want things to go further, you'll have to take matters into your own hands.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Hoodie

Smooth ass motherfucker. Like Masky, knows what the feelings are right away, but has no fear in acting on them. And he's super fucking good at it. He sees love as one of the many pleasures of life, something meant to be enjoyed, so he's not going to shy away from it. He'll shower you in every love language known to man, this guy absolutely knows what he's doing. He's not even insecure that you might reject him, he knows he's a catch and you know what? He's not wrong. So it won't take him long at all to confess in the most chill but romantic way possible, like it's not even a big deal (which, to him, really isn't).

[skzdarlings]

02. sharing a bed series ; skz ; lee know

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 2/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN.

-

pairing: lee know/reader content info: sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. reader&minho had an argument. reader gets pussy eaten. minho likes to tease.

inspired by the cinematic masterpiece known to the world as lee know log 9, aka that vlog where minho went camping and i never recovered.

-

There is a perpetual hum around the campsite, heaters and lamps and cookers buzzing through the night, plus the rain has started coming down harder.  Its restless patter over the tarp of the luxury tent is more a nuisance than relaxing. 

The noise is not why you are still awake.   Your insomnia is the cause of good old-fashioned guilt. 

You and Minho lost your reservation thanks to some traffic delays and the campsite only had single-bed tents available by the time you arrived.  You have been sharing a bed all weekend, but right now you are alone.  Minho stormed out an hour ago, claiming he needed a walk to clear his head after your argument.

The argument you started. 

All weekend, you’ve been testing Minho’s seemingly infallible patience.  Minho might joke around sharply, but he’s a secret softy and it’s hard to get him genuinely angry.  You could feel yourself being a ridiculous ass but, like everything else of late, it felt out of control.  You were like a third party watching your own stupid argument, unable to stop yourself and unable to help him.  He was the mature one, leaving to find some space.

Even if it was after calling you ridiculous and uptight.      

You didn’t cry.  You didn’t let yourself cry.  Maybe you can’t control anything else, but you can control that. 

Now, you just lay in bed and listen to the rain.  You can’t sleep anyway, so you leave the lights on for Minho.   The rain is coming down pretty hard.  You hope he gets back soon.   Much as you don’t want to face him, you are worried about him. 

As if summoned by your thoughts, the tent opens and Minho stomps inside.  He is wearing a backwards hat and a hoodie, neither of which did much to protect him from the downpour.  You look over your shoulder at him, watching him shake himself out.   The wet hat comes off and hits the ground with a slap, the hoodie following.  It leaves him shivering in a t-shirt and shorts, his jaw clenched. 

He turns abruptly, looking right at you.  There is so much intensity in his gaze as he stares at you, slicking his wet hair back.   An unbidden spark of heat bursts inside you.   I want him to look at me like that when he fucks me, you think.  The thought makes you whip away to stare at the white tent wall.  Your heart pounds.   That pounding intensifies when Minho struts up to bed, crossing the space in a few quick strides.  You don’t dare turn around, clutching the blankets and staring at the wall.

He turns off the lights.  Then you hear him leave, disappearing into the small bathroom joined to your tent. 

You exhale.  It takes a while to come down from the burst of adrenaline, but it has mostly dwindled by the time Minho returns.  You hear him moving about in the dark.  You lay straight as a board, your back to him. 

You stare through the dark at nothing.  You know you should apologize for earlier but you can’t bring yourself to speak.   You just breathe. 

Minho climbs into the bed.  It dips under his weight and you feel a flood of warmth from his company.  He has toweled himself dry and changed into sweatpants and a dry t-shirt.  He smells fresh and clean, and just a little woodsy. The bed is not very big so he bumps you as he lays down.  It makes your heart race again, which just makes you cringe. 

The rain has slowed.  It still patters against the roof of the tent, but gently.  

The quiet makes the silence between you even more tense.  It feels heavier than the blankets, dense and suffocating.   You swallow. 

The argument was your fault.  Everything that went wrong this weekend was your fault.  You’ve been on edge and quick to overreaction, uncharacteristic to your usual composure.  You could tell it was worrying Minho but he has never been the type to pry.  No, he waits until he is asked, which would be great if you knew how to ask.  Hug me, hold me, help me.   You don’t know how to ask for the things you want.   So you just continued to spiral, taking it out on him.  

It should be you turning around, you facing him, you apologizing, but it’s Minho who rolls over.  You freeze when he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight from behind.   He doesn’t quite kiss your shoulder, but he presses his face there for a second.  Wisps of his dyed blonde hair tickle your face.  You can imagine his eyes closing when he sighs. 

“I’m sorry,” he says.  “I shouldn’t have said that shit.  I don’t even know why we were fighting.  Just call it my fault, okay?  I shouldn’t have taken a city girl camping.”   

He is trying to joke with you.  His friendliness is what gets you.  Even after everything, he is still so good to you.   

You put a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound when you start crying.  It’s a useless effort because your shoulders shake and Minho can feel it.  Resigned to your pitiful state, you let your gasps shudder out of you. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, rolling you onto your back.  He wipes his thumbs over your wet cheeks, staring down at you with his brow furrowed in confusion.  “I was just kidding.  I’m sorry.  Take a free slap.”  He grabs your hand and lightly taps his own cheek with it. 

It does make you laugh, but it’s a watery sound, rippling through your tears. 

“Minho,” you say miserably, “I lost my job.” 

Understanding fills his expression.  You can’t bear to look at him, so you roll towards him to hide your face in his chest.   He lets you, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your back as you make a blubbery mess on his shirt.   You tell him the whole story, about the promotion you lost to someone else, about the sudden downsizing and subsequent firing.   You are someone who functions with meticulous planning so your life being upended sent you hurtling into an unfamiliar state of panic.  

“That’s why I went out alone the other night,” you say.  Your tears have slowed to hiccups by now.  “I know it was stupid and it made you mad.  I just felt like I was gonna explode.” 

Hopping bars and picking up random men is very out of wont for you.   That’s why you did it.  Minho was less than pleased when he found out you went wandering around downtown at night, inebriated and alone.   His scolding was reasonable but you were beyond reason.

He goes stiff when you mention it now, though he doesn’t stop rubbing your back. 

“I wasn’t mad,” he says after a minute.  “I was just worried.  And…”

You peek up at him.  He sighs and groans and yells all at once, an amazing feat of sound, throwing his head back so it thumps hard against the headboard. 

“I was jealous,” he says bitterly. 

“Jealous,” you say.  “Of me?”  

“Yes.”  He gives you a very sarcastic look.   “I wished it was me in that little black dress going out and—no.  Obviously not of you.  Why do you always torture me like this?   Go cry on the floor.”  He jostles you but jokingly, still holding you against him. 

You laugh a little, resting your head on his shoulder.  Your head feels fuzzy and you don’t think it’s from crying.  Minho just admitted he was jealous of you going out with some other guy.   It feels like your heart is doing circus tricks. 

“There was nothing to be jealous of anyway,” you say softly.  “We didn’t do anything.  He insisted he was, um, really good with, uh, his mouth, you know, but then, like, the more he insisted, um, you know me, I started thinking too hard and, um, he couldn’t make me, well…”

“Keep stammering.  It makes me feel less embarrassed about myself.”   

“Minho.”  You slap his chest.  His laugh is more of a maniacal cackle, his demeanour having shifted back to glee at your admission.   You lift your head to look at him, biting your lip, noticing how his eyes go to your mouth.  “He wound up leaving before it could go farther,” you say, your words startling him into meeting your gaze.  You know it’s a petty blow, but you can’t help but admit, “He said I was too uptight and left.”

Minho’s whole face scrunches up like he just got punched in the gut.   

“No,” he says.  “No.   You’re just saying that to bully me.  I didn’t call you the same thing as that idiot.”   

“It’s okay,” you say. 

“No.” He groans again, closing his eyes and kicking his feet.  “Ahhhhhhh.  I should be shot!”  

You are laughing properly now, clinging to him as he squirms in horror.          

“I’m sorry,” you say.  “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“Oh really?”  He cocks an eyebrow at you, his mouth a grim line. 

“Well.”  You burst into laughter all over again.  “Maybe just a little!” 

He laughs hard at that, shaking his head, but still retaliates by tickling you.  Your laughter turns hysterical, peels of giggles as he pokes every ticklish inch of skin. 

“Minhoooo,” you whine to no avail.  He just grins and continues his attack. 

Your wriggling pushes the blankets off the bed.  You try and whack him with a pillow so that hits the floor too.  Soon it is just you and Minho and some dishevelled bedsheets, you on your back with him leaning over you.   You are both out of breath, both smiling.  His hands are by your head, cradling you under him, while yours are on his chest as if preparing to push. 

The room feels quiet, the silence again tense.  But this tension is not rife with the same uncertainty as before.   It is not guilt or shame, but a longing that comes from the whispered confession that he was jealous of the last man in your bed, the simple reality that he is sharing your bed right now.     

You do not push him away.  You hook your fingers in the collar of his shirt and pull.  His elbows bend as he swoops down, meeting your raised head.  He kisses you, deep and hot and slow, gently pressing your head back into the plush bed.  Your squirming is very different now, legs opening to make room for him to settle between them.  He feels so good on top of you, the feeling of his strong thighs between your legs, of his chest under your hands, wisps of hair brushing your face as he kisses and kisses and kisses you. 

The kiss ends when you are simply too breathless to continue.  He rests his forehead against yours, breathing hard. 

“Wow,” you say softly.  You look at him.  His dark eyes are often severe in a playful way and right now they are intense, seductive, and it isn’t a joke.   You touch his bottom lip, holding his gaze while he kisses the tips of your fingers.   “Just so you know, that kiss was way better than everything that happened the other night.”

He grins at that. 

“Oh,” he says.  “Really?” 

“Yeah.”  You watch him kiss your fingers again, then your palm.  He looks at you as he dips a little lower, kissing the inside of your wrist.  You are hypnotized by the heat of his dark stare, so you speak without thinking much.  “Everything you do turns me on, though,” you say.  “Even earlier, when you were crushing that garlic with the knife—”

His seduction breaks with a little laugh and he raises both eyebrows. 

“Garlic?” he asks.  “The garlic got you hot?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” you say, pouting.  “You already made me cry once tonight…”

“Oh, is that what happened?” he says.  “Sure, okay, let’s play.  I made you cry.   I should make it up to you?”

“Mhm…”

“Well then.”  He leans in close to kiss you but he lingers for a torturously long time, just hovering above your lips.   Then he abruptly pulls away.  He kneels upright and sits back on his heels.   

Confused, you push yourself up on your elbows.   He is looking around the room and tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“What is it?” you ask.   

“Hmm?”  He looks at you, tilting his head as if you are the confusing one.  “What?  I’m just looking for some garlic, since you’re into that for some reason.  Give me a minute to remember where I put it.”  

“Ahhh, I hate you!”  You flop back down, covering your face with your hands. 

Minho, diabolical creature that he is, throws back his head and laughs.  He tries to pry your hands off your face but you stubbornly hold on.  He sighs with theatrical exasperation and gives up.  

You hear the rustle of fabric.  Curious, you peek between your fingers.  Minho is staring down at you with a single eyebrow cocked, a smug little smirk tugging at his lips.  That smirk grows as he reaches back, flexing his arms before grabbing the back of his t-shirt and pulling.  Your hands fall away from your face completely, your eyes drinking in the gradual reveal of skin as he pulls his shirt off.   It lands somewhere on the floor, forgotten. 

“Okay,” he says, nodding curtly.  “Your turn.”  He makes a come-hither motion with two fingers.  “Come on.  Hurry up.” 

Your brain has short-circuited.  It takes a second to make sense of his request and another minute to actually do it.  You sit up long enough to peel your shirt off, then flop back down where you continue to stare at him.   You are checking each other out, looking up and down.   Your eyes goes over his bare chest and down, your mouth falling open. 

You breath catches when he cups his hardening dick through his sweatpants, rubbing the heel of his hand there. 

You meet his gaze, already breathing harder.

“What else then?” he says, still stroking himself through his clothes as he looks at you. 

“Uh, ah, erm, hm—”

“You said everything I do turns you on.”  He falls forward and catches himself on both hands, so suddenly you gasp.   Once again his arms cage you in, his face close to yours.  His hips come down heavy between your legs, his dick hard where it presses intimately against you.  “So,” he says.  “What else then?” 

“Oh.”  You are staring at his mouth, gaze heavy-lidded when he rocks against you.  “Um.  Well.  Sometimes when you’re driving in reverse and you put your hand on my headrest, it kinda—” 

Once again, his seduction attempt is thwarted when he can’t help but laugh.  He drops his head, laughing harder when you lightly smack him.    

“Stop asking if you’re just gonna laugh!” you say, even while laughing too. 

“Okay,” he says.  “Garlic and driving in reverse.  I’m learning so much.” 

“I’m gonna kill you.” 

“That would be very rude,” he says.  “Especially since I’m about to go down on you.” 

“You—wha—ohhh—”

You grab his head instinctively, fingers sinking into the natural dark roots of his dyed hair, just as he dips down to press kisses on your chest.  You arch under him as his mouth finds every sensitive spot, licking sweetly and biting meanly, as to be expected from Minho.  By the time he reaches the waistband of your shorts, you are panting and wriggling and clawing at him desperately.   

You don’t even have time to overthink.  The world and all its troubles fall away for the time being.  

You will figure things out.  You always do.  Right now, you let yourself lose control.   You usually hate the feeling, but in this moment you don’t mind at all, because Minho has you.   You trust him completely.  Surrender is easy.   

The rest of your clothes join the messy heap on the floor.  He runs his hand smoothly along the inside of your thigh before guiding it over his shoulder.   He kisses there, then kisses you excruciatingly chastely between your legs.  When you try and move, he keeps you steady, the sturdy hands that captivated you now holding you firmly in place. 

When he finally stops torturing you, he gives you everything at once: a long, hot lick right up your centre.  Again, your fingers find his hair.  He doesn’t complain or lose focus even though you are scratching at him a bit ferociously.  Ever a skilled worker, he stays on task.  It is so deft and swift and thorough; you get so wet and slippery that you can feel it running it down your skin.  

When you get close, your hips lift but he brings you back.  He looks up between your thighs as he brings you over the edge.  Your legs shake and your eyes close and you bite your hand just a little, trying not to be too noisy in the middle of the night at a campsite. 

He climbs back up when finished, looking like a very smug feline as he wipes his face on the back of his hand.   

“On a scale of garlic to driving in reverse—” he starts. 

You playfully cuff the side of his head. 

“That good?” he continues to tease. 

You roll your eyes but smile.   You think it is a seductive smile, but you do feel a little wrecked.   Still, you stay on task too, sliding your hand down his chest, down, down, down and—

“Oh,” you say.  You look down at the same time as him.  A noticeable wet stain is on the front of his sweatpants.  “You already—”

He flops down beside you and sighs.

“Sorry,” he says.  “You weren’t the only one amazed with my sexy performance.” 

“That’s okay,” you say with a laugh.  You roll over to rest your head on his chest.  His arm comes down around you, hand running down your naked back.  You giggle when he cups and squeezes your ass.  You dance your fingers down his pants to the wet spot where he came.  “I think it’s kinda hot, actually.” 

Minho came from eating you out.  Of course you think it’s hot. 

And of course he has to be Minho about it. 

“Okay,” he says.  “Garlic. Driving in reverse.  Premature ejaculation.  Uptight was definitely the wrong word.  I honestly don’t know if I can keep up with a freak like you—”

“Ugh!”  You roll away and turn your back to him, mostly to hide the fact you are laughing at his stupid joke. 

He follows you, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you from behind.  This time he kisses your shoulder properly, once, twice, three times.  All the way up your neck to your ear and just behind it. 

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” you whisper. 

“I like you too,” he whispers back, kissing your shoulder again. 

You smile and close your eyes, listening to the rain and letting yourself snuggle safely in his arms. 

[misshugs]

Is this what you wanted to see? || Colby Brock x Reader

You thought it was just going to be another funny, intriguing investigation with the guys, but things went south real quick. Whatever was in this hotel, didn't like you.

warnings: gore/blood, cursing, violent paranormal activity, reader getting attacked by ghosts, seeing shit that's not there (aka, being a bit of a medium), angst?

a/n: the story is fictional, therefore, the place/video that I based the story from, is not real.

word count: 2k

[u n e d i t e d]

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

"What's up guys! It's Sam and Colby. Today, we're standing right infront of one of the most haunted hotels in America..." Colby began.

The frame of my body visible to the camera as they continued their intro. I threw a tiny wave when they called out my name to the camera.

At this point I'm so used to all of this that Colby doesn't even need to ask if I'm okay with it anymore, although he still does, which I love about him.

We've been dating for months now and I swear that I'm just falling deeper in love every day. I didn't even notice myself staring lovingly at him throughout their intro to the point they had to shake me out of it.

"You good?" Nate asked, I looked up at him and nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, just zoned out for a little bit, my bad." I smiled at him and he nodded.

"Just making sure."

"You guys ready?" Sam asked, looking at us.

"Yessir!" Nate responded.

"As I'll ever be." I added.

"We'll see you guys inside." Colby said back to the camera and turned it off. He looked back at us and smiled. "So, shall we?"

"We shall." I responded, laughing slightly as I got closer to him and walked inside with them. While they weren't looking, I felt a short kiss on my cheek coming from him, which just made me smile wider.

God, I love him.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

While we were all walking through a corridor, I looked back and saw an employee with a tray of food. He saw me and I nodded with a smile at him as a kind gesture. He smiled and nodded back. I looked back at the boys, only to slightly look back for a second and then completely looking back in shock.

There was no one there. It would've been impossible for someone to run and hide in that short amount of time.

Was it my imagination or did that really just happen? It seemed too real to be true.

"Co..Colby." I softly said, as my feet were unable to move after the thought of having seen something so real, yet not being there.

"Yeah?" He looked back, so did the other two. "You okay? What happened?" He got closer and looked at my face then back to the corridor, trying to see what I was looking at.

"I... there was someone here. An employee... with... a tray. I looked at him, even greeted him for a second and when I looked back he was... gone."

"No fucking way." Sam said.

"Are you serious?? You're telling me you just saw a full-on person then it disappeared?" Nate asked, shocked.

"I guess, yeah?"

"Oh, this is gonna be a good night." Sam put the camera on my face. "One of us already saw something unexplainable, wish that would've been me." He laughed.

"Next thing we know you begin to levitate brother." Colby laughed back.

I laughed as well, trying to brush away the thought of genuinely seeing a ghost.

All night, I've ended up having this eerie feeling of someone just watching us, but there was no one around. I tried to hide my uneasiness but Colby saw through me right away.

Every time he noticed, he began to flirt with me, making me feel good the best way he knows how. "You know we can just leave if you're too uncomfortable, baby." He kissed my forehead, putting his arms on my shoulders.

"Don't worry about it, I'm good. If I couldn't handle it, I would tell you right away."

"You better." He chuckled and kissed me, making all of my stress go away for a moment.

I can't lie, it did make me feel better, but somehow it just made things worse. I started seeing figures at the corners of my eyes, movements around me where nobody was walking around, even feeling touched a few times around my shoulders, hands and even ass. It felt weird, it made my anxiety grow by the minute, but somehow, it felt safe because of Colby.

And so, we ended the tour of the place and thought about trying to get some activity at around 3 in the morning. Meaning, we had nothing else to do. I was already tired enough, feeling as if the energy in my body has been drained to its core. I believed that it was solely because of the much walking and anxiety that was rising constantly.

Although the others planned on staying awake until the hour came, I told them I will try and get some sleep. And so, they would wake me up when the time comes.

Lying in the bed, I didn't stay up for long until my eyelids were closed and my brain just shut down. Usually, I'm quite the light sleeper, but this time I was knocked out.

Until I felt it.

I felt some hands on my legs. Honestly, I wasn't conscious enough to know if it was in my dreams or in real life. It turns out, it was real. And it wasn't Colby, or anyone else. But I felt it, tight on my leg. I couldn't even think right before I felt a pull and suddenly I was on the floor.

I could feel a sharp pain on my head as it was the first thing that touched the floor. I quickly woke up, shaken up by the sudden act. I whined in pain as the other seemingly stood up from their places and looked at me, possibly concerned, believing I might've just moved and fallen off the bed.

Before they even got closer, I got pulled back. This time, being completely awake, I yelled out, looking back at whatever force was holding my legs, one to see nothing at all.

And it was at that point when I felt genuine fear. I tried my hardest to hold onto the floor or anything really, but to no avail. Tears filling my tired eyes as I tried to focus my vision to the things around me. Next thing I knew I was thrown onto the wall, my back throbbing with pain as I felt a huge headache from the mild concussion I probably had after all of this.

To this point, everyone was frightened. Fear made them almost unable to walk, talk even. I could see them, their scared faces, trying to do something but there was this tension that made them... stop in place. Like this pressure, this force that was throwing me around like a ragdoll. They couldn't help me, it seemed.

At least in my point of view.

Unbeknownst to me, they were actually trying to set themselves free from this invisible pressure. Trying to move, but feeling like they've had a ton of weight on top of them that they couldn't escape from.

As I fell to the floor, I tried to gain back my breathing. Shaking on the floor, I looked up and saw Colby screaming my name while being set free from the pressure, running towards me. I looked at him with hope in my eyes, trying to pull my arm up to hold him, only to feel myself getting pulled again. This time, thrown towards the couch.

Although the direct hit to the couch didn't feel as bad, I had enough force to fall back behind the couch and to the floor. Since I tried to hold myself with the couch, unfortunately, it leaned back on itself and fell on top of me. Just the cherry on top.

I whined in pain, unable to move, stuck underneath the couch with bruises all over my body and the wet feeling of warm liquid on my back and the top of my head, wishing it would've only been sweat.

My vision was blurry.

My senses were all fucked up.

It all happened so quick that I don't think even they would've reacted in time even if they were able to move freely.

With my eyes closed, I could feel the pressure from the couch lift from my chest and a pair of arms holding me tightly.

"Oh my fucking god. Oh shit. Fuck. We need to get the fuck out of here." I heard Colby desperately scream. As I opened my eyes, I could see his teary ones. Holding me onto his arms, his eyes filled with guilt and fear. "Are you okay? Fuck..."

"Hurts..." I was able to whisper out those words, shaking and I feel myself coughing onto my hand. Looking back at the now blood-drenched hand, the pain began to intensify. My vision kept on failing, only able to see blobs of colors here and there.

Colby held me on his arms and pulled me up from the floor, which made me whimper in pain, feeling my back getting even more wet by the moment.

"Shit. Her back is bleeding... Fuck." I could hear Sam's shaky voice as I tried to gain back my breath, trying to calm myself down as I heard the rapidly increasing heartbeat of Colby.

Somehow, it made me feel okay. Being by his side, the rush of everything around almost seemed softer, calmer. I could no longer listen to everything that was going on.

Muffled sounds were the only thing that could pass through.

Yelling.

Moving.

A tight squeeze.

I felt numb. For a moment, at least.

My name.

I heard my name and suddenly, I was conscious again. I blinked a few times and looked up at the desperate Colby. "Please... tell me you're okay... fuck..." His tears probably blurring his eyesight.

A glimpse of strength came back to me and I was able to touch his cheek with my hand. He quickly looked down at me. "I'm fine... I'm fine..."

"Right after we walk out of the room..." Nate pointed out, holding all of their stuff in their hands.

"We need to get the fuck out of here and get her to a hospital." Sam said, walking quickly with the others. I was confused, seemingly forgetting for a brief moment about how I was brutally assaulted by a ghost.

"Hospital? Why are we going to a hos..." As I was talking, I realized why they were hurriedly walking away. I felt the pain all over again. I groaned at the feeling, shaking on Colby's arms.

"You'll be okay, you're going to be fine. Don't move. Deep breaths, baby." Colby tried to calm me down, his shaky breath giving away his anxiety.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

My back was all bruised up. I had some unknown hand marks on my legs, where I was pulled from. Some scratches tinted my back red when I got into the ER, as well as a few bumps in my head that gave me a red face.

The memories of what happened were blurry, yet so vivid.

And the only thing keeping me conscious was him. I could see it in his face, he felt guilty. Guilty for something that wasn't even his fault.

"Shouldn't have let you go with us... we should've stopped when you began to see so many things... I'm so stupid." He whispered under his breath.

"Hey, hey. Look at me." I said. He reluctantly looked up and into my eyes. I smiled. "It wasn't your fault. Nothing about this could've been predicted, alright? Don't blame yourself." He smiled slightly, only to sigh.

"Yeah, but..." I interrupted him.

"No buts. I'm fine. I'm still here, with you. Right?" I responded, softly while holding his hand. "No need to feel guilty, no need to be sorry. You just have to promise me a good time when I get out of here, yeah? And a good meal." I smiled. "Food here kinda taste like shit." He chuckled, making me smile even more. "That's the face I like to see."

"I love you, so much." He said, holding my hand up to his lips and leaving a soft kiss on them, making my cheeks flutter by the site of his sensitive side.

"I love you too. Now, do that again, but closer to my face."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

it's been a while since i've written something like this, and honestly i just remembered how fun and angsty it is to write about getting literally beaten up by a ghost lmao

hope you liked it, requests are appreciated!

-nikkõ

[thatdammchickennugget]

can you do a reader with big thighs and like Theodore is absolutely in love and is like constantly touching them no matter what and if it's easier or something I like head cannons👹😘

Thigh-ly Adored

pairing -theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings - a teeny tiny bit of smut tehe, thick thighs!reader

a/n - thank you for requesting love!! 💕 as a fellow thick thigh girly, I strongly believe all of the boys would be obsessed with them. also, I might still write some headcanons about this soon

wordcount - 471

You sit cross-legged on Theo's bed, a book resting on your lap as you read. Your boyfriend’s head rests against your legs, his fingers idly tracing circles on your skin. Every now and then, he looks up at you with adoration in his eyes, his gaze lingering on your face before drifting back down to your thighs.

He's always been like this—unable to resist the urge to touch you, especially your thighs. And you don't mind one bit. In fact, you find his affectionate gestures endearing, a constant reminder of how much he loves every part of you. Well, especially this one part.

As you reach the end of the chapter, you close the book and set it aside, turning your attention to Theo. His eyes meet yours, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"You have the most beautiful thighs," he says, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You fluster at his words even though he has told you that he loves your thick thighs many times before. "You really think so?"

Theo nods, reaching out to gently caress them with his fingertips. "Absolutely. I could spend hours just touching them."

You giggle at his earnestness, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You're ridiculous, Theo."

He looks up at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "Maybe so, as long as I get to touch."

You laugh, leaning in to capture his lips in a tender kiss.  He tastes like chocolate and mint, and it's intoxicating. You pull away after a few moments, but not far enough for you to break contact entirely. Your foreheads rest together, and you sigh, savouring the moment.

And then you immediately feel his hands slide back to your legs and playfully roll your eyes.  You push his hands off and he chuckles, looking almost amused. Almost. You know that look—he's definitely plotting something.

Before you have the chance to figure it out however, he has already pushed you back onto the bed, trailing kisses down your clothed torso until reaching the soft flesh of your thighs, planting one last kiss right below the hem of your shorts before biting down.

Your breath hitches at first, but you soon melt back into the mattress when he starts nipping softly. You let out a quiet whimper of pleasure, arching into his touch. His hand travels upward, his thumb rubbing little circles through the cotton covering your core. Your body relaxes completely, your breath coming out shallow.

His hand slides beneath the hindering material and moves upwards slightly, teasingly brushing over your clit. Theo grins when you suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, his other hand squeezing where it still rests on your thigh. "Not pushing me away this time, huh, pretty girl?"

Theo Taglist - @slytherinboysappreciation @dramaticals @urmomsgirlfriend1 @remussbitch @starsval @gillyweeds @hzstry8 @sir-elian @harryslittlebitch @Thatblackthorn @gayforyelena @whoreforfictionalmen18 @Littleraindrops @darkacademicvibes @marauderswhxre @ravenclawprincess33 @sbrn0905 @atadoddinnit @helpimhopelesslyinlove @carav4l @randomgurl2326 @Yhiiil @tristanswildcat @niktwazny303 @themarauderswife7 @moonlightreader649 @sherbysherbsworld @Topguncultleader @chgrch @nat1221 @thestarlithideout @iamaslytherin0 @bath1lda @pinkposttragedy @allshitsangiggles @hoeforvinniehackerrr @mildly-delulu @h3artz4soph @marsbars09

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[benedictscanvas]

silly, lovely fool - remus lupin x reader

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

word count: 0.5k she’s just a baby

warnings: i went HAM on the pet names, apologies if that’s not your thing but i think they’re sweet :(

a/n: i have nothing interesting to say, except i am in such a little remus cocoon rn. please enjoy this little blurb and let me know your ideas for any others <3

- - -

“You’re so silly,” you murmur, so quietly you wonder if he hears you. He gives no indication. His cheek is pushed firmly into your hand, and he’s just staring at you through his lashes, eyes flirting across your face and back again. Looking up at you between his legs as he sits on the lid of the toilet, and he still looks at you like that.

“Remus,” you admonish lightly, “I said, you’re so silly.”

“I know,” he hums, “But I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Looking at you. Always looking at you.”

“Remus,” you say again, more warning in it this time. He sighs, and you feel the warmth of it across your wrist. You have to fight a shiver.

“You’re ruining it. Shush.”

It’s against your better judgement to give in to him, but you stop talking anyway. It’s nice to look at him too, even though he laughs when you tell him so. It’s not as nice as it usually is right now - there’s still flecks of dried blood under his nose from the nosebleed that had only just cleared up, and a nasty bruise forming on the bridge. You wince and he sighs again.

“I’d rather you speak than look at me like that,” he says, finding your hip with his free hand.

“You shushed me,” you argue and he pinches your hip, “I just- you’re an idiot. A silly man.”

“You said that already, my darling girl.”

You scrunch up your nose at the endearment. He always thinks he can talk his way out of anything with you. It’s because he always can.

“I still think you could have pulled me out of the way without getting hit yourself.”

“I had to think on my feet,” he argues, but his tone is passive and his thumb is rubbing circles around your hipbone, “My favourite face was in danger.”

You shake your head at him.

“So pull me towards you, dork. Don’t jump into the path of a bludger.”

“A small sacrifice,” he murmurs, reaching up to trace a featherlight line down the slope of your nose, over your cupid’s bow, lips, then tapping your chin twice.

“A silly sacrifice,” you push, but your heart isn’t in it anymore either. He’s so pretty, nosebleed or no, and he thinks you’re pretty enough to take a bludger to the face for you. Lovely man.

“Okay, I’m silly,” he says lazily, “Very very silly for you. Mad for you, stupid for you. A total fool.”

“Remus,” you mumble to stop him, pulling his face upwards towards yours to plant a chaste kiss to his lips. You don’t want him to hurt any more than he is already. You’re ever so fond of him.

“Sweetheart,” he says, millimetres from you, “I’m feeling awful better now. Think I could kiss you properly?”

“I think you should count your lucky stars that I’m kissing you at all, handsome.”

And with that you step out of his reach, because otherwise he’ll most certainly convince you. He reaches for you but comes up short as you move to throw away the bloody tissues. His arm hangs limp in the air between you.

“I do feel lucky,” he affirms, “Look at that face. All perfect and everything. I did that.”

“Yes you did. Thank you, by the way. My hero.”

You decide to let him have this one. He’s too genuine to tease much more.

“Anytime. You just shout, gorgeous.”

You bark out a laugh as you return to him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, then another.

“You’re such a flirt,” you speak into his hair, pulling back to look at him and unable to keep yourself from smiling.

He just grins.

[clairdelunelove]

jealous!yuuji who adamantly snuffs out any attempts of flirtation directed towards you– even if you aren’t his

jealous!yuuji who’s stuck in the predicament of staying close friends with you. it’s an awkward struggle to teeter in-between the edge of what he wishes and reality. he’s a relatively decent guy. although he doesn’t have much he doesn’t need fancy ways or shiny things to gift you. instead, he gazes at you with honest eyes, takes your cold hands in his warm ones, and always remembers to lower his voice when you’re sleeping beside him. it’s genuine, authentic– him. and you’re on cloud nine. he catches the way your eyes flicker to his lips while he’s talking or how you borrow his sweatshirt more than once. but the two of you never speak a word about it. never owned up to any feelings in fear of losing the friendship you both shared. so it’s no wonder there are times like these where yuuji has to endure the flirtatious remarks thrown your way while the two of you are spending the day at the local arcade. and does yuuji blame the other person for finding you attractive? no, not completely. because you’re dazzling underneath the arcade’s fluorescent lights. vibrant shades of ruby, emerald, and gold dance off your soft features. takes every ounce of willpower within him not to gawk at you whenever he treats you to these outings. so he stands there, stiff and silent, as you toss him a desperate glance to bail you out of the situation. but you both know there’s nothing he can do. you’re not his. vaguely, he wonders if this qualifies as cruel and unusual punishment. it isn’t until the stranger pushes his luck, gets a bit too handsy with you, and yuuji– the sweetest and most selfless guy you know– snaps. 

jealous!yuuji who instinctively reaches for your wrist when the stranger treads into your personal space. forgotten is the overpriced game that the two of you were in the middle of playing. yuuji had shoved his game-card into the machines’ slots (paying for yours in the process) and playfully mentioned how you wouldn’t be able to beat his high score. it’s a basketball game, of course. but now the game’s final buzzer rings to signal that the timer’s up and your game was cut short because of this brassy stranger. your face whips to yuuji, a call for him to help, and the blushy haired male is already reacting. he’s aware that’s one of your biggest pet peeves so it’s no wonder you’re startled. long fingers wrapped around your skin, he checks in with you by gently murmuring, “you okay?” you nod, focusing on how his brows crease as his hand moves to cradle your face and gauge your reaction. honeyed eyes skitter across your face, stopping just a second longer on your glossy lips. a couple moments pass before he’s dropping his grasp onto you and stuffing his hands back in his pockets. he’s so tense over such a small incident and the ideal causes your cheeks to warm. “I’m good, yuu. thanks,” you answer before the moment is interrupted by the overbearing stranger. “look, my bad. but,” the guy rubs at the back of his neck and explains, “you’re really pretty and I just wanted your number.” it’s not often you’re complimented in public so you’re compelled to force a sheepish smile, unable to detect how yuuji goes rigid at the statement, and apologize, “sorry but I’m not interested. thank you though.” you’re polite about it yet the flirt (apparently) isn’t used to getting turned down because he’s frowning. “it’s ‘cuz of your friend here, isn’t it?” then, the guy gives a pointed stare at yuuji’s closeness with you.

jealous!yuuji who’s peculiarly irate and blurting out, “friend?” his voice is unusually sharp. it’s like he’s spitting out venom when he says the word. taking a step in front of you, he uses his broad physique to cast a shroud over you. and you’re reminded just how wide his muscled shoulders are from under the faded cotton of his jacket. makes you dizzy. the swirls of forbidden desire biting at you. the stranger only shrugs in response to yuuji’s inquiry, muttering, “yeah. she’s not your girl right?” and yuuji clenches his jaw as he discerns the audacity of the other male’s words. taking yuuji’s silence in stride, the flirt makes a grab at your wrist and mentions, “so how about that number, beautiful–” but yuuji’s quicker. his calloused hand swats at the guy’s before he can tug you towards him. the smack produces a blow that you’re certain will sting until tomorrow morning. “she said no so get your hands off her, dude,” yuuji’s voice drops as his gaze narrows, “and don’t ever pull that crap around me again.” his expression is deadpanned. serious to the point of lethality. and if anyone knows anything about yuuji– it’s that he can fight. combat experience, power, stamina; he’s got it all. yet, it’s almost unnerving to hear such a tone of voice coming from him since you’ve only ever seen him upbeat. the stranger appears even more frightened than you are, though. a glance at yuuji’s veiny, muscled forearms and the guy is stumbling through a weak apology; even scurries away and leaves the both of you alone again. idle in the middle of the arcade. you stare up at him, only met with the back of his head where little tufts of blushy hair stick out underneath his backwards cap. yuuji’s eyes are still trained on the guy’s retreating figure. he exhales heavily once the stranger is completely gone but doesn't let his guard down. a beat of silence passes and the realization that he’d just scared off one of your potential suitors has his eyes widening in alarm. 

jealous!yuuji who, when he whips around to face you, expresses the epitome of innocence. his pink lips are set in a pout that adds to the sheepishness written on his face, “sorry, I don’t know what came over me–” but to his shock, you’re laughing. you’re in full hysterics, clutching at your stomach and covering your mouth to maintain some sense of decency despite your giggles. usually yuuji’s nerves would settle from hearing that melodic sound but he’s stumped. genuinely baffled at your reaction to the whole ordeal. “what’re you laughing at?” he asks as his head whips to the direction the stranger sprinted off to and adds, “I don’t see anything funny.” and the pure bewilderment that he expresses is too amusing. “sorry, I just,” you take a breath and gesture to his face, “I’ve never seen you that mad before.” and the notion of why he wouldn't be irritated crosses his mind. “oh c’mon,” yuui huffs almost childishly, “you and I both know what he was trying to do.” he declares this like it’s the most obvious trick in the book. and when you quizzically tilt your head at his comment, a habit you do that never fails to make him swoon, he’s sputtering on his words. “you’re joking, he was literally flirting with you,” he swipes an exasperated hand over his face as his voice borders a whine, “while I was there!” and you can’t help but realize how much boyish charm yuuji carries with him. he gazes at you; starlight eyes looking into yours like you hold his heart in your hands. truly, it’s sensible to him– this vex that crept up on him like a monster and encompassed his entire being due to a singular person’s act. an inkling of bitterness that he’s never been greeted with. never felt the need to keep what’s important to him close. to encompass it: mind, body, and soul. perhaps his feelings towards you were stronger than he imagined. 

jealous!yuuji who’s immediately dropping his uncharacteristic frown once your hands reach for him. he’s easily lulled into your space. you just have a magnetic pull that he never opposes and he doesn’t plan to any time soon. a soothed breath passes his lips when he recognizes your fingers brushing underneath his backwards cap. a small gesture that always works to relax him. leaning forward, he positions himself so it’s easier for you to smooth the strands of his tousled hair from where it’s hidden from view. “that jerk could’ve asked anyone else for their number,” he grumbled, breaking the stillness. you glance at him as he chews at his lower lip, sulking at the audacity of the stranger that found you attractive. you’re giggling at his honest display of affection and the sound is like a balm over his unease. understanding that alleviates his spite. “are you jealous, yuu?” you tease but your voice is sweet. and you’re wholeheartedly expecting him to retort, in true yuuji fashion, but his silence stuns you. instead, he turns to bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your candied perfume, and relishes your embrace. he’s smitten by you. entirely. and you’re glancing to the side in a daze, memories and possibilities of the two of you dancing in your mind. a dream that you frequent more than you care to count. after a couple moments he pulls away with both hands grasping your shoulders. pure devotion drips from his eyes. you’re suddenly getting hot around the collar of your shirt and the tips of his ears are flushed but it was clear; this secret that was known between the both of you. the undeniable truth that yuuji was jealous– over you. and you jolt when he quietly (finally) mumbles, “I just didn’t like that too much, alright?” 

[rafeandonlyrafe]

insatiable

words: 1.1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, lots of female receiving oral, excessive use of italics idk i was feeling it

rafe has been incessant all day, insatiable. you honestly have no clue what has gotten into him. he woke you up with his head between your legs, tongue licking sloppily at you, and he didn’t let up until he’d wrung two orgasms from your body. he didn’t even care about his own, getting up to get you a quick shower and then breakfast instead, not even mentioning getting himself off. 

it’s unlike rafe. you know he likes to eat you out, but it’s always in the lead up to sex. you shrugged the morning off, until it was only a few hours later that he was peeling your shorts off as you sat on the couch, making the most of your saturday by watching a film.

you thought okay, for sure this time, but again, rafe licked and sucked you to orgasm, then got back on the couch to cuddle. it wasn’t like he was unaffected, you could certainly feel it behind you as you snuggled into his warmth, but he made to move to further advance.

you start to wonder if something is wrong when after you eat lunch, rafe sets you on the table and spreads your legs, feasting on you right there. when you let out another scream, another press of your thighs together, signaling your orgasm, rafe pulls up, satisfied smirk on his face. you pull him into a strong kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, but then he pulls away, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead before clearing the dishes.

you decide maybe going out would break this cycle, so you insist on heading out to shop. you make it through one store, a couple shopping bags in hand, but when you go to load them into the back seat, rafe pushes you to get in too, taking advantage of the tinted windows as he lays you down, spreading your legs for him as he eats you out again. this time he at least uses his fingers as well, giving your a hole a little relief as it craves his cock.

you don’t want to complain. it’s not like it’s a problem, but your clit is starting to get sensitive and it’s not even dinner time yet. you’re not exactly traditionalists, but you usually have sex after dinner, in your own bed. rafe is adventurous, willing to take you anywhere, but it’s just by nature that’s when you have the most time.

you finally call out rafe when he tries to eat you out again after you bring in the shopping bags. he dumps them in the entryway, pushing you against the wall and sinking to his knees. what has gotten into you you say with a laugh. you like giving rafe head, but even on the best days it’s only maybe three times, and your clit genuinely is starting to get sore. like rafe knows it, he ignores the question, and gives your clit the softest licks, building you up slowly until he has to use his hands to support your weight, unable to stand on your own. he finishes you off, careful to pick you up and carry you upstairs to your master bedroom. he cuddles and kisses you as the bath fills with warm water, before depositing you inside.

seriously you hum, running your wet hand through rafes hair, unable to resist the soft strands, even as he sits on the stool outside the bath, what has gotten into you. rafes head drops, but you can see the soft smile on his face, a plastered one, one that means hes about to tell you a lie. i cant just treat my girl?

you give him a stern look. rafe sighs, unable to make eye contact, looking everywhere but you. i heard you talking the other day. your mind runs through your recent conversations. to your friend about how head can just be head and doesn’t have to lead to sex. i never do that for you. you give me just a blowjob all the time. so i’m trying to make up for it even though my dick fucking hurts every time i see your pretty pussy and don’t get to fuck it.

you can’t help but laugh at rafe. he sounds so dejected and sad, talking about missing your pussy. rafey. you coo, running your hand over his thigh from your lower spot in the bath. i don’t mind. i would tell you if i minded. that was about my friend specifically because her man never satisfies her properly. that’s not us. 

can you… can you get out of the fucking bath so i can fuck you now? rafe asks, and you nod. he helps you stand, doing a shoddy job of drying you off with the fluffy towel, before taking you into the bedroom, depositing your naked body on the bed. rafe strips, and his cock is painfully hard, standing at attention, tip angry and red. despite the precum glistening on his tip, rafe still slots himself between your legs.

this head is the best yet, knowing for sure it’s going to lead to rafe fucking you. he licks, sucks, slurps, right up until you’re going to cum, and then he pulls away, quicky moving up the bed to easily slide his cock into you. your orgasm rushes through your body, before rafe can even pull back out to start thrusting, just the feel of him alone sends you over the edge.

rafes ego inflates a little at this, keeping his cock deep inside as your body works through it. you give him the nod to move, and rafe starts to thrust hard. he’s merciless, using your body to get himself off. he knows you struggle to cum without clit stimulation, but for the first time all day he completely ignores it, hands tight on your hips as he thrusts over and over and over.

your eyes roll back in your head when you feel rafes cock swell. you know that he’s not lasting much longer. you don’t even care about your own orgasm, you’ve had enough for one day, you just want to help rafe to his, to feel his cum inside of you. you clench your pussy around him, and that seems to does it, rafe burying himself deep inside of you as his cum spurts inside of you, painting your walls.  he pulls out and collapses next to you, letting out a breath that sounds like relief. you roll onto your side so you can look at him, smiling at his satisfied face as you rub a hand up and down his wide back. rafe leans to give you a kiss, letting your lips glide over each other. he pulls away with a smirk, slinking down your body. oh god. again.

[subbypeterparker]

Hazel Callahan x fem!reader smut headcannons

ugh look at my girlfriend, she’s so 🤭

repost since it didn’t work out…

She’s 100% a switch and I take no criticism. She’s such a pleasure dom, it’s actually dizzying, yet she can also be the cutest sub ever, all desperate and whiney

She’s inexperienced for sure, but she’s such an easy learner, especially when it comes to someone else’s pleasure

Hazel has a tendency to be insecure, especially about her looks, performance, almost anything, no matter how many times you tell her she’s perfect (and she really is)

Maybe tied into her insecurities, she’s big on praise, both ways. She loves being called beautiful, and being praised for absolutely everything there is about her

She’s such an angel, and whenever she’s near you, she can’t help but praise you for being so pretty, so sexy, so good for her, anything. Every time she sees you, she can’t even believe you’re hers

“You’re doing so good baby, so pretty for me, so beautiful” is her most repeated sentence, and you never tire of hearing it, especially when she’s all breathless and fucked out while saying it

Breathplay is maybe her biggest kink, and whether she’s giving or receiving it, she’ll love it

The light grips on each others throats when you’re too desperate to do anything else, or clamping your thighs around the others head, so drunk on the pleasure that neither of you can help it

The small noises that leave your mouths when you realize the loss of breath, and the moans that get caught in your guys’ throats

Holding. down. your. wrists. Oh my god, let me tell you, to her, nothing looks better than to have you pinned under her, unable and unwilling to move

Being underneath her is the single sexiest thing ever, and she knows you love it as much as she does

Hazel will get so cocky and proud seeing you underneath her, and takes her time teasing and touching you, knowing you’re enjoying it as much as she is

“Look at you underneath me…so perfect…so pretty…” with giggles and sloppy kisses when she can breath from being flustered at you lying underneath her

She’s definitely not opposed to being pinned down by you (it’s the sub in her), and she’ll have the cutest smiles and giggles from being so flustered

Something about being pinned down by you just has Hazel preening into your hands, excited and begging you to do anything you want to her

She's very awkward to be honest, but the more experienced she is, the cockier and more dominant she'll be

Don't get me wrong though, sex with her is full of laughter and jokes, since neither of you can stop smiling when you're together

She can be so shy during it, but a few praises and touches by you, and she’ll be blushing and comfortable for more

She’s such a big fan of marking, and leaving as many hickies as she safely can on your neck. Something about you wanting to show people you’re hers makes her so happy and proud, she won’t be able to stop

Hazel is such a fan of body worshipping, and is completely obsessed with running her hands all over any part of your body she can, she can never get enough of it

Her goddamn chains. Holy shit. They’re genuinely enough to have a girl drooling and on her knees (it’s me, I’m the girl)

She gets so cocky when they hang over your face as she fucks you, and will go crazy if you pull her in for a kiss with them

God, the way they shimmer and highlight her collarbones and neck, displaying perfectly her skin that’s bare and ready for you to mark up

Now, speaking of someone being on their knees…

She’s a goddamn giver when it comes to that, nothing to her tastes better than you, and she won’t stop until you’re so overstimulated, you’re crying

Hazel’s an amazing learner, as previously mentioned, and thrives off of learning how to make you feel so fucking amazing

Believe me, learning to eat pussy is amazing, and trust that Hazel doesn’t shy away from going batshit crazy, and diving in like the lesbian she is

As for receiving, that’s when she starts to lose her edge, and becomes a puddle for you

Eating her out will make her become such a sweet sub for you, who’s only thoughts are staying where she is so you’ll keep touching her

She’ll be squirming and grabbing onto anything she can in desperation, whether it’s the sheets, a desk she’s on top of, your hair, anything she can reach

Honestly, the only sight better than her back arching while you touch her, is her pretty face looking up at you from between your thighs

She has the biggest puppy eyes known to man, and they look even prettier than normal when she’s crying and all desperate for your touch

Especially when she has those dark bruises on her face from the fight club (like her look during the football game, which was so…)

She’s such an angel with aftercare, always too obsessed with if you’re okay, and never paying attention to her needs

You never let that happen though, and the rest of your time together is spent lying down, eating, and watching tv together until you both fall asleep

[yzzart]

day off, and just enjoy!

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: you and Tom try to enjoy your free time with each other's company and competing against each other.

word count: 1.315!

notes: a more domestic, relaxed scenario ran through my head and i felt i needed to write it down. — i hope you like and enjoy

"The right amount is seven cards, right?" — Shuffling the cards, trying to adjust them to be distributed in a random order and not letting any go uncontrolled, your boyfriend asked.

Replying to some messages, and some tweets that Rachel chose to make and tagging you, and then, sharing your latest post on your story, — Coincidentally, in the same second, Tom's cell phone vibrates with a notification. — you take your attention away from the device, turning it off, and direct your eyes to your boyfriend.

"Right!" — Your head nodded in confirmation, and your fingers tapped, lightly, on the wooden table. — "There is another way to play with more cards but I think this is better." — And it seemed to be more complicated and a little more time-consuming, like that, you thought.

It was their time off, some moments of rest and focusing on things and opportunities that could distract your minds. — Since the premiere of 'The ballad of songbirds and snakes', there have been extremely long and very busy days with so many interviews, presentations, participation in programs and premiere nights; which were incredible, brought different emotions to each of the cast and so much pleasure and happiness. — The union, the feeling of everyone being together was unique and inexplicable.

Mentioning that your work schedules are still full was not some kind of exaggeration, and that, with each event, more plans were planned in the future. — After all, it wasn't a lie to say that you were already used to all of this. — Therefore, a few days of rest were more than necessary.

"Here it is." — The cards were distributed in the correct manner and quantity, and those that remained, and which would be used to be bought, were left next to you. — "Just wait a minute, darling." — Tom warned, while taking his cell phone.

While you were organizing and judging your cards, wondering if they could actually lead to a good game for you, your cell phone vibrates as a sign of some notification and, instantly, the screen lights up showing you what it was. — A like on your story from such a familiar profile. — Your lips curved into a genuine and beloved smile, feeling like a teenager in love.

The fact that you and Tom kept notifications on, from your profiles, from each other was cute; at the same time, without wasting a second, as if you wanted to break some kind of record, in any post, among the first likes and comments, your users were there. — Fans thought this was one of the funniest and most beautiful things.

And things like you and Tom were each other's fans were always mentioned in tweets and compilations.

Leaving his cell phone near the group of cards and before picking up his set of cards, Tom looks at you and winks in your direction; you laughed, unable to contain yourself.

"Who goes first?" — You asked, slightly swinging your legs under the table, moving the cards again and waiting for the first round of the game.

"Oh please, ladies first." — Supporting his cards, already organized, in one hand, Tom made a reference to a knight of a certain era with his other hand; your foot poked his calf, finding his act funny.

You started the game with a green card numbered two, after all, it was the color that was most present in your cards. — A possible strategy, perhaps? And you hoped it would work. — Quickly, Blyth opted for a card of the same color but numbered five.

"After the winter camp…" — Tom's voice in a concentrated but so soft tone exclaimed in your ears, taking away, a little, your attention from choosing the card. — "What will be our next trip?" — Still in the same color, you add a number four.

"We need to go through there again." — You commented, reminding him that you said the same thing when you were with him at the table. — "Let me think." — Tom put the same number but in blue, you clicked your tongue, unhappy with the absence of the color in your set.

"So that means you don't have that color." — He laughed, fixing this information in his head; Ignoring his provocation, you bought a card and, coincidentally, it came with the same number but, again, in a different color. — Yellow.

"I'm thinking about spending time in a forest, that has a cabin near a beautiful, huge river." — Indicating, directly and indiscreetly, a reference to the movie's scene, you suggested. — "And an opportunity to fish and jump in it." — Understanding what it was about, Tom's laugh settles in the room and warms your heart.

"Not including hair being dyed blonde, i will be by your side, my love." — Tom bit his lip, continuing to vibrate his laugh, and provoking the fact that everyone was asking, or rather begging, for him to definitely become blonde. — "And it wouldn't be a bad idea, really."

During his answer, he had placed a card with the same number but, of course, with a different color, it was red; and a simple, brief moment of relief because you had a yellow card disappeared into thin air. — Once again, you drew a card and once again, out of pure irony, you draw a card with the same number but colored green.

Maybe, your game was on a good track. — Or your luck was definitely in an ironic direction.

"That's not possible?" — Complained the oldest, with his eyebrows arched and his mouth half open; you shrugged, causing a smug frown. — "Can you tell me." — He placed a card numbered eight and colored green and, quickly, you added another green card with a different number.

And so, the game arrived at a time when there were only two cards left in your hand; accompanied by the intriguing information that they were the same color, green. — Finally, you had an opportunity to play that yellow card, which didn't have a good moment and was prevented from being used.

In Tom's hands there were also the presence of two cards; If they were identical in color, you didn't know that and had no idea whatsoever. — But his eyes were focused on your cards and, soon, he paid attention to your face, observing every point and expression that existed on it. — Along with that sideways smile, without showing his teeth, anxiously waiting for your move.

You weren't betting anything, but in the next round, you will probably go, let alone compete, seriously; however, if an outsider saw the current situation, they would automatically think of a competition. — And without joking or exaggerating.

In a delicate and risky moment, you played one of your green cards; leaving just a card between your fingers and looking deeply into those blue eyes, waiting for his turn. — Tom took, at least a little longer than usual, to play; as if he was thinking about what, exactly, to do. — Oh, another heavy mind with strategy.

However, those two cards, which were left in your boyfriend's hand, form just one thin and small set. — As if it were just one. — And, slowly, they are positioned on top of the card you had placed. — They were two blue cards, twins and with the same number as your card.

"I won!" — Tom exclaimed, with a triumphant smile and moving, just a little and dramatically, the chair away from the table; as he tilted his head in amusement and waiting for something from you. — "I feel like we should have bet something."

"I don't believe." — Leaving the card on the table and crossing your arms, thinking about your mediocre strategy, which passed on a gravel path, apparently, you spoke. — "The chance was between my fingers!" — Tom laughed shamelessly at your reaction and received another poke from your foot on his leg.

"Ready to lose again, my sweetheart?" — He asked, crossing his arms on the table, looking at you.

[whoahoney]

Eddie from Chili’s Pt 2

Waiter!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Part 1 Part 3

Summary: You go back to the restaurant to make your move on the cute waiter.

Warnings: fem!reader, no use of Y/n, fluff, reader is oozing anxiety, flirting, a couple allusions to spicy things, a kiss

A/N: As usual, you guys are amazing, and I always look forward to seeing your comments and hearing your thoughts on my silly little writings 💖

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You sat perched on the barstool, eyes wandering towards the familiar doors that led to the kitchen. The tables in his section were full so you sit at the bar.

There, you waited for the bartender to show up, staring down at your nails as you wait and began to wonder why the hell you didn’t paint them. You hear footsteps approach, shoes scuffing on the carpet behind the counter as the bartender— the brother— stepped up with a familiar smile, “Hi, there! What can I get for you?”

“Uh, can I get a Tito’s and lemonade?” You ask, thinking of the first drink you remember your friends loving.

He nodded, “For sure!” and grabbed a glass to fill with ice, and then asked to check your ID. “Awesome— Texas lemonade coming right up.” He nodded and handed it back to you, his attitude much more outgoing than Eddie’s had been, though both men were perfectly personable.

He set to work making your drink silently, nothing but the swish and rattle of the drink being poured over ice and the idle chatter of the dining room to be heard.

Your eyes scanned the room, checking all the moving bodies for that familiar head of hair, wondering if he was even here, for all you knew he could’ve quit by now.

“—Looking for someone?” The bartender asked. His name tag read Dakota.

You swallow and shake your head before looking down, “Oh! No, not at all.”

Dakota chuckled, “You sure? Your eyes are practically peeled.” He sat your drink in front of you and smiled.

“Thank you.” Is all you say before taking a tentative sip and trying not to wince at the tartness.

“Well, if you need anything, let us know.” He said before slipping away and into the kitchen.

You groan to yourself before resting your head on your fist and stirring the drink with the skinny straw you never use.

Absolutely pathetic. You sit and berate yourself for a minute, concluding that you’d drink half the glass before asking for some water to drive home.

“Long time, no see!”

Your head popped up to find Eddie behind the bar, walking towards you. Looking at you. Speaking to you.

You were at another loss for words, your mouth gaping and closing involuntarily as you searched for something to say. Eddie’s smile grew as you struggled and he leaned over the counter behind the bar. “I was hoping I’d see you again.” He muttered with twinkling eyes.

Your eyes flicker up to his, your heart warming and chest unclenching, “Oh?” You suddenly play coy, “Why is that?” you say, and take a drink.

Eddie’s eyes brightened at that, “Well, you’re the most polite customer I’ve had in months!” His eyes ran down your being. He snickered at your blush, leaning closer on his elbows as his brother left the kitchen with a platter in hand— working Eddie’s tables. “Not to mention the cutest.” He winked with that smug smile.

You give a breathy chuckle before you take another swig, earning a genuine laugh from him as you set down the half empty glass.

“Are you nervous?” He asked quietly, pressing back up on his hands, somehow even closer and not close enough. He oozed confidence and cool, like he did this all the time. Like he was so used to girls practically swooning for him, unable to speak.

You could only nod in response.

“Well, why’s that?” He shrugged, eyes trailing down your face as he appraised you.

You swallow and hope it wasn’t too loud, “I’m here to meet someone.” You cringe inside of yourself, what the fuck? This isn’t the plan??

“Oh.” His smug grin falls along with the twinkle in his eye. You hate how it makes you feel inside to see him disappointed.

“A friend.” You shrug. His eyes perk at that.

“Just a friend? —I mean, like, i-is your mom coming too?” He faltered, your smile rising as his cheeks reddened and he cleared his throat nervously before looking away.

“Mhm. Just a friend. Though my mom will be thrilled to hear Eddie from Chili’s asked about her.” You smile at the sound of his laugh.

“So you do remember me?” He asks with a smile of relief.

You nod shyly at your glass, stirring the water with the other useless straw. “Kinda hard not to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He leans on his hands, hoping you’ll keep talking.

You sigh and roll your eyes before meeting his gaze, “You’re a … a really good waiter.” You settle.

Eddie chuckles heartily, something you wanted to hear over and over and over again. “Thank you, I try my best. My goal is ultimate customer satisfaction.” He widens his eyes for emphasis and takes note on your hitched breath. “So is there anything else I can get for you?”

“Oh! Uh…”

He watches you as he picks up a menu and sets it down in front of you. “I could just bring you some chicken fingers while you wait.” You look back up at him under your eyelashes, “Four of them, right?” He asked with a hidden smile as your cheeks burned.

“No, no it’s okay, I’m not hungry.” You shake you head. Eddie cocks his to the side in question but takes the menu back without a word.

“Well, uh,” he began as another patron sat down at the bar on the other side, “—I’ll be right back!” He said, happy for an excuse to leave and stay close.

You let out a sigh of relief as he walked up to the older man, easily striking up a conversation as he took his order and went about pouring something dark into a short glass.

Your phone chimes as a message comes in from your best friend, asking for a progress report. Before you can type a coherent response, you manage to send a thumbs up paired with a melting face as Eddie walks back over to you.

“Is there anything I can get started for your friend?” He asks. You put your phone face down on the bar, meeting his eye as the perfect excuse comes to mind, “No, actually, she isn’t coming.”

Eddie tsks though it’s apparent he isn’t bummed to keep you to himself for the rest of your stay. “Well, ain’t that a shame.”

You nod down at the counter top again before the words came spilling out of you unwillingly, “—Actually she wasn’t ever coming. I lied.” You feel like you’re going to throw up. Like actually. Your stomach knots itself, ready for the cute boy in front of you to look at you in disgust and have you escorted out for harassment or something.

“Oh?” Is all he asked, leaning on his forearms, getting closer to you.

You nod shamefully.

“So you did come for me?” He clarified.

You close your eyes as the blush worked up your cheeks, giving into your smile as you nod, again, but smaller. “That’s what you care about? Not that I lied?”

Eddie’s own smile grew, “Well, you’re a shy little thing, I don’t blame you.” He winked at your burning cheeks as he leaned closer, lowering his voice and letting you peek at the man behind the cool facade, “But, if you would’ve asked for my number, or left yours on the receipt like I wanted you to,” he chided, “I would’ve called, y’know. Or answered.” He shrugged.

You manage to look at him— really, look at him. The unease in your body began to uncoil as you observed how he looked at you; not like a meal, but with intrigue.

“And what if I asked for it now?”

“I don’t think you’d call me.” He shook his head with a knowing smile.

You scoff and ask, “Why not?”

He gave you a pointed look and let his neck go limp a little as if to say ‘really?’

“Okay, wrong question—well, if you wanted my number, why didn’t you ask for it?” You ask as you twist your glass idly on the coaster, trying not to look as curious as you felt.

“Pfft, yeah, and freak you out? Be the weird skeezy waiter— at a Chili’s, no less? Uh-uh. I’m above that.” He shook his head assuringly. You chuckle and look down at the cubes floating in your glass.

“I’ve never had to try to get a number here before,” He began, his eyes on the wood you’d been so focused on for the duration of your visit, “— kinda just happens for me, so… I was counting on that receipt having a name and number on it but…” he tsked and shook his head pointedly at you, “—Nope! Nada. Just a fat tip from your mom—which I totally appreciate, by the way.”

Your cheeks redden, “So…do you want me to ask for your number…?” You ask in confusion.

“Actually, I think I should ask for yours.” He said, idly wiping at the counter, “Since you’re scared.” He teased.

Your mouth gaped, “I’ll have you know I can be very courageous.”

He snickered down at the counter before looking back up at you, “Courageous enough to join me on my break in about ten minutes?” He nodded back into the kitchen.

You exhale, “Am I.. allowed?”

“—Yes, you’re allowed.” He scoffed and pushed your drink forward. “C’mon, Chicken Fingers, drink your liquid courage, and I’ll show you where I go hide about 10 times a day.”

“Ch-Chicken fingers??” You question, leaning forward with wide eyes and an incredulous smile struggling to be shoved away by the corners of your mouth and failing miserably.

Eddie beamed as you chuckled, a blush of his own warming his cheeks, “Well, I don’t know your name, so,” he shrugged, “It was either that or Quiet Quinn.” He managed with a plain face.

You narrow your eyes at the man until he breaks into laughter, the sound charming enough to make you smile along with him before you told him your name and he smiled again and reached out his hand for yours, clasping it firmly, “Nice to meet you, I’m Eddie.”

“I know.” You chuckle as you shake his hand.

“Ooh, I’ve never had a stalker before— how flattering.” He almost purred as he kept your hand in his, running his thumb over the back of your hand as he laid it on the counter and made no move to let it go.

You scoff and roll your eyes, letting him keep your hand, “My moms been hounding me about coming back for the last month.” You roll your eyes and take a sip.

“Oh, you’ve been talking about me with your mom?” He asks.

You wanna spit out the drink but instead your eyes widen and you tip it back farther until you finish it with a hardy gulp and set it down. “I’ll be taking the check now.” You say shamefully, closing your eyes.

You open them when you hear his laughter again, watching as he releases your hand and takes your cup, “That won’t be necessary, sweetheart.” He says it, even though he now knows your name, and begins to wash the glass.

You watch him quietly, the way the water splatters on his forearms and how his rings look when they’re glittering under the added shine and clanking against the glass he cleaned. “So what do you do?” He asked as he collected the old man’s glass without as much as a glance to him.

You jump slightly after being so dialed into his movements you have to quickly piece together your response, “Oh! Well, I’m in school for graphic design. And I work at a chiropractor's office scheduling people and whatnot.”

You study how he clutches the towel in his hand and turns the knobs of the sink before turning to dry the glass. “A secretary slash designer,” he mused as he polished the glass in his hands, “So you’re creative and good with computers, I’ll jot that down.” He smiled as he looked back up at you.

“What about you?” You ask as he puts away the glass and prints a ticket to hand to the gentleman waiting patiently. Eddie slides it over and watches at the man digs out cash and some change. You watch as he smiles and thanks the old man before sliding the cash off the table and scraping the coins into his hand and counting it before shoving it in the register.

Almost forgetting you asked a question, you watch as he washes his hands again and begins to replenish the supply of lime wedges—something you suppose is his brother's job. Maybe they switched jobs a lot because Eddie moved about the bar with an ease that felt practiced.

“Well, when I’m not being the world's best waiter, I work at a body shop installing glass on cars, sometimes some side jobs pulling dents if I can get ‘em.” He shrugged as he sliced them into perfect wedges.

You nod, “Do you like it?”

“Makes good money! Lets me do the stuff I’d rather be doing.” He chuckles to himself. You cock your head slightly before he finished putting the rest of it away and turning to the computer as he dried his hands again.

You watch him press a few buttons on the screen before it printed your ticket and he threw it away in the trash below and sent you one of those dazzling winks of his.

He leans forward on his elbows again, “Ready, Chicken Fingers?” He asks before glancing to his brother, busy taking an order at one of his corner tables.

You roll your eyes and glower with a poorly repressed smile as you give him a timid nod and hop off the seat.

Eddie walks around the counter, waiting for you at the kitchen doors. He takes your hand and guides you, opening the door and keeping you close, your hand fitting perfectly in his. He kept a firm hold on you as he dodged people in black and white, more people than you thought could fit back here.

“Hey, Eddie!” A line cook greeted him.

Eddie shot the guy a charming smile and wave with his free hand without stopping, “How’s it going, Hal?” He called before facing forward again, headed for the black door at the back.

The man answered Eddie but he didn’t care to continue the conversation, he just wanted out of there— wanted you out of there.

He opened the door to the back, where the dumpster resided with walls surrounding it— keeping divers from picking through their trash, you suppose.

Eddie lets go of your hand to reach for his carton of cigarettes, “You smoke?” He asked as he pulled one out.

You shake your head, “Sorry, no.”

Eddie pauses before idly flicking his lighter twice, “Don’t be! You mind if I…“ he gestures to the stick and bic in his hands.

“No! No, go for it. I don’t mind it, just never tried it.” You assure as he burned the end of the cigarette til it glowed. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked and nodded.

“Don’t ever do it!” He warned, mumbling around the filter before pulling it away, “You’re too pretty to smell like an ashtray.” Smoke slithered out of his mouth around his teeth as he spoke and stepped forward, blowing the rest of it to the side and waving it away from you and taking another pull and keeping his eyes on yours.

He was so close you had to look up at him, your bottom lip hiding between your teeth for a moment before releasing it. “Doesn’t stop you.” You quip almost proudly.

Eddie looked impressed, “Ooh! That was smooth, pretty girl.” He blew his smoke up into the sky, exposing the adams apple jutting out of his thick neck, oh so perfectly.

You wanted so badly to know what it felt like against your lips…

Caressed under your loving hand…

His face tilted back down to yours, a brilliant smile stretching across his face bit by bit. “You think I’m pretty?” He asked. You nod, a vacant smile on your lips, “Or is it the alcohol talking?” His brows pinched in the middle as he leaned down closer to you, as if to examine you for drunkenness.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, “It was one drink! Besides— I thought you were pretty ever since I first saw you.”

“You been thinking about how pretty I am?” He asked in false curiosity.

That bashful smile crossed your face again before you nodded, “I already told you that.” You look down again and notice how he takes another small step forward.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” He smiled, the scent of his citrus cologne was muddled with the ribbons of cigarette smoke he blew into the air around you. The warm and spicy scent practically swarmed you the second he got closer, and you never wanted to smell anything else again.

“Why?” You shake your head.

“Cause I have that same Nirvana shirt you wore.” He shrugged one shoulder and your heart sank. “Like it better on you though.” He added.

You peek back up at him, brows raised in question as your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips. “How do I know this isn’t something you just ‘do’?” You ask, crossing your arms and looking away from his stupid, handsome face.

“What, talk to pretty girls? I do all the time, it’s part of my job.” He took a toke, talking about the pretty girls he served like art on a wall he’s seen a dozen times. “But I can honestly say I haven’t brought any of them to my secret hiding spot.” He shrugged easily, no sign of defense lining his tone. “—Not to mention had any of them swallow their tongue at the sight of me and still come back! Maybe you are courageous, Chicken Fingers.”

You roll your eyes and push his chest playfully, sending him backwards a couple steps. He chuckled as he recovered and you crossed your arms with another smile you didn’t realize you wore, “So now what?” You look around the area, stray garbage littering the wet ground and the scent of the meat cooking on the grill wafting out of vent on top of the building.

“Depends.” Eddie takes another puff on the dwindling menthol.

You tilt your head, cocking it to the side and shift your weight to your hip, narrowing your eyes the slightest bit and appraising him, “On?” You scoff with a playful smile.

“On… if you wanna go on a date with me.” He rocked on his heels and threw the butt on the ground, almost hiding under his curly bangs.

You smiled and nodded, “…and if I say yes?” You can’t help but glance to his lips again as he smiled, shuffling forward, only inches away from your face.

“If you say yes… I can guarantee you’ll have the time of your life.” He analyzed your face, searching for the same hesitation that riddled your being the last time he saw you.

He didn’t find a trace of it. You kept your eyes on him, not shying away from his gaze.

“Then I say… we should go out sometime.” You smile shyly.

Eddie’s mouth hangs open in pleasant surprise, his eyes twinkled in excitement. “Ohh, you are smooth! How could I say no to that?” As if you’d asked him out in the first place.

If he were to get any closer your chests would be touching, he’d have to straddle his feet on either side of yours—getting that close he’d have you against the wall of the restaurant.

And you wanted him to, so badly.

He leaned down to your ear, “You gonna show me the time of my life?” He asked lowly.

You inhale deeply, trying not to shudder at the way his breath grazed your neck and ear, and nod, “I’ll give it my best.” You said almost breathily.

Eddie chuckles softly as he leaned back to appraise you, tracing your collar with his finger before curling it into the ends of your hair and twirling a strand for a moment, savoring the texture.

His gaze turned more serious as his other hand came up to your other shoulder for a warm and affectionate squeeze before he tsked, “I gotta get back in there, pretty girl.” He said glumly.

You nod understandingly, “Yeah, I should head out too.”

He nodded again at you and his eyes dipped down to your lips again, lingering like he had at your table a month ago. “I, uh, I can walk you to your car.” He nodded towards the gate in the wall, an almost shut padlock through the metal rings to keep it closed.

“Yes, please.” You say softly.

Eddie’s hands leave your shoulders, with a smirk, “So polite—y’know you say please more than anyone I’ve ever met.” He chuckles, taking your hand to lead the way around to the customer parking, only releasing it once to open the gate for you and shut it back.

The walk was quiet, and you relished the feeling of his hand in yours again. You refrained from holding onto his arm with both hands, wanting his hand in both of yours as you arrived at your car.

“This is it.” You say, coming to a stop in front of the hood. He nods at you, still keeping your hand in his.

“Well, thank you for coming back.” He smiled at your sheepish grin and stroked the back of your hand, “I look forward to seeing you again.” He added.

“You too.” You say cordially before squeezing his hand and turning to go before you can throw up everywhere.

“Wait a minute!” He tugged you back to face him, “I still need your phone number.” He pulled out his phone and promptly unlocked it, opening his messages and starting a new thread for you to put your number in. “Unless you wanna come back, again.” He smiled, charming the socks off you yet again.

You take it from him and type your number, noticing his use of a cute emoji next to your misspelled name. You chuckle to yourself and fix it for him, reading it all back to yourself twice before calling it good and hand it back to him, watching as he smiles at the screen.

“Fuck, strike one, huh?” He blushes and looks up from the screen as his thumbs hovered over the keyboard.

You chuckle and dismiss it with a wave, “Nothing that hasn’t happened before. Now is it Eddie with two E’s or three?” You question playfully and watch as he bites the inside of his cheek and sigh.

“It’s actually three E’s, an I, and one D— in that order.” He types a message before locking it and putting it back in his pocket.

You’re giving him a real laugh, and an eye squinting, cheek aching, smile that has him smiling right back at you as the chime of your phone in your pocket goes off and you just can’t stop smiling at him, your cheeks burning but loving every second.

You see the way he looks at you, like he wants to say something, maybe— looking kinda bummed, even. You flutter your eyelashes at him before tilting your head, “Is there anything else I can get for you?” You say just above a whisper, your heart pounding so hard you don’t know if you’re trembling or not.

Eddie’s smile quirks up higher on one side as that twinkle reappears in his pupils, licking his lips with a knowing in his eye that said he knew what he wanted, he just couldn’t say it. He just stared at your lips for a moment longer before shaking his head dejectedly.

“Are you sure?” You ask again, shamelessly looking at his lips before meeting his eyes again.

He parted his lips before he leaned in slightly he hears his name called across the lot, “Get back in here, man, Damon’s gonna be here any minute!” His brother hollered from the door.

“Just a second!” He turned away to call back, his hand still in yours. You decide the moment he turns back to you, you’re gonna go for it— you’re gonna kiss him.

“Sorry, he’s worried about our manager coming—“ You watch intently as he turns back to you, taking his other hand in yours before pushing up on your toes to press a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, tingles surging up through your body.

You pull away as he freezes, alarmed. Your eyes widened, “Oh my god, is that not what you wanted me to do? I’m so sorry, I—“

He interrupts you by cradling your face in his hands, your face suddenly so warm in his touch. His hands were so soft and the rings were barely cool to the touch as he pressed them to your face in his gentle hold.

“—No! No, I mean, yes! Yeah, that’s what I wanted, just…“ his thumb brushes your bottom lip and your chest heaves as he pulls you in close and presses his lips squarely on yours, kissing you deep and slow before releasing your lips with a pop and lingering close to your face as the haze he cast out wrapped you up in warmth and content.

“—Oughta hold me over til I see you next. And you better text me, okay? Don't make me wait a month.” He warned.

You smile and nod as he releases your face.

“I work here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday— noon til closing, in case you miss me too much.” He winked before pressing another kiss to your mouth and running across the lot as his brother stuck his head out the door to yell at him again.

You watch him until he’s back inside, breathless before sighing to yourself as you dig out your keys and hop in your car. When the engine turns over and your playlist connects to Bluetooth, you unlock your phone to find a message waiting for you from an unknown number.

You smile and tap on it, ready to add him to your contacts as ‘Eddie 🖤’, when you read the message you can’t help but let your head fall back and bring your knees to your chest as a Lizzie McAlpine song plays.

Eddie 🖤:

You blush, your heart swelling with the growing hope he’s as dorky and sweet on the side as he is handsome and gritty on the outside.

Another message came in just as you were about to type a response:

This is Eeeid, by the way. 😘

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PART 3

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