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#its incredibly flirty
danmeiljie · 1 year
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Yuanxia are Even More Flirty from this outtake of Episode 28 in Advance Bravely
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vampirehowl · 2 years
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keep seeing people saying its not accurate to call gtn "lesbian necromancers in space" as if the bar to meet that statement isnt literally just the presence of lesbians who are necromancers and are in space - if you read gtn and didnt get that from it thats on YOU if you thought lesbian necromancers in space would entail anything more specific than a story set in space with necromancers who are lesbians thats on YOU thats YOUR assumption its not my fault you dont know how to read the actual description parts of the cover
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sammydem0n64 · 1 year
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I love making ocs have beef for the most silly of reasons. Rn I’m hyperfocused on Peppark and Bista bc BROOOOOOOOO how are you two basically fighting over the same guy AND HE DOESN’T WANT EITHER OF YOU???? WHAT IS THE POINT!!!
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lord-shitbox · 8 months
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getting rejected is soooooo embarrassing im never thinking someones been flirting with me ever again
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silken-moonlight · 4 months
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Double Trouble (Nsfw) | Werewolf best friend x Vampire boyfriend x You
A/N: Its based on this post. So glad to be back tonight with this little fun piece. I love doing stuff like this and I hope you like it as much as I love writing it! - Swan/Moon
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Spending time with your boyfriend and your best friend has always been somewhat difficult. Your boyfriend is a vampire, and your best friend is a werewolf. Trouble is guaranteed at some point, especially since your boyfriend, despite his long life, is self-conscious. He needs a lot of reassurance throughout the day and even more so in the bedroom. Your best friend, however, a tall and very attractive werewolf, is the polar opposite. He is incredibly confident, aware that he is good in bed, and flirty to the ends of the earth. Flirting with you like there was no tomorrow, smacking your ass or doing something stupid like moaning when your boyfriend called you.
They kind of hated each other, or so you thought. Just now, you came home and were greeted by the two of them, who looked at you mischievously. You didn't even expect them to be in your flat, especially not together. You had just come back from the bookstore and had gotten some iced coffee on the way back..
“Hey guys,” you greeted them. “Hey, sweetheart, how was your trip?” your boyfriend asked and strode over to you, kissing you deeply and passionately. You were surprised by this, since he rarely showed such affection in front of your best friend. You smiled, enjoying his sudden display of affection. Your curiosity, however, won out and you had to ask, “What are you guys up to? I didn’t know you would come over.” You asked. Your best friend grinned. “Oh, Count Dracula and I talked about our feelings and are friends now.” Your best friend always teased your boyfriend with the nickname ‘Count Dracula’. "Oh, you did?” you asked excitedly and happily. You would love for the two of them to get along and not constantly fight. Your boyfriend chuckled, “Something like that…You see, my beloved, he and I just want the very best for you. You’re always so sad when we fight, so we decided to make you…happy and be together.” He crooned and suddenly your best friend was behind you. “What do you say, baby?” your werewolf best friend asked you with his typical wolfish grin. You looked back and forth between them, your heartbeat quickening and a flush becoming visible on your face.
“You…you mean…?” You reassured me, you always wanted to have a threesome, maybe this was your chance. “Yes, we want to satisfy you together, make you see stars, little love.” Your boyfriend almost purred and kissed you. You closed your eyes, enjoying the passionate kiss you two shared. Suddenly you were pulled away, your best friend wanted to kiss you too. His lips caught yours, hands were on your hips and waist, feeling their way up and down. They pulled down your summer dress, leaving you in your underwear. Suddenly you were lifted up by your boyfriend, him rushing you into the bedroom. Your best friend trailed close behind. You only had a moment to breathe before they were on you together. You laid on your back, your boyfriend was behind you and his lips caressed your neck. He sucked hickeys onto your neck, marking you and fidgeting with your bra. Arousal began to for between your legs, this whole situation was utterly erotic.
Your best friend kneeled between your legs, watching you too. His hands found your panties and he dragged them down. “Gods you smell amazing.” He growled and kissed up your ankle, calf and thigh. You gasoedm watched him as your boyfriend began to massage and grope your breats. Your nipples stiffend at the attention, waiting to be played with. Your boyfriend stopped and grabbed the head of your best friend:”Stop teasing her and start pleasuring her.” Before pressing your best friends face into your pussy. Immediatly your werewolf best friend began to lick and lap at your pussy. Your lips parted as moans spilled out. You grinded slightly on his face, feeling so good at the attention. “Do you feel good?” Your boyfriend asked and you nodded, he grinned and leaned down to suck on your nipples. His other hand ravished your free nipple, teasing and twisting it. You whimpered, whined, moaned… Your best friends fingers teased your entrance before he sunk one finger in you. You arched your back, closing your eyes as he fingered your firstly with one and then adding a second finger.
“Does he do it better than me?” Your boyfriend asked. Such a mean question:”No, the same…” Were you able to say. Your boyfriend chuckled and returned to caress your breasts. Your best friend looked up at you: “Oh come on, you can say if I am better.” You shook your head and moaned when he added a third finger. “I’m close…!” You whined and shivered slightly. The mouth and fingers in and on your pussy as well as the thorough dedication to your sensitive nipples brought you to your first orgasm. “Such a good girl, cum for us.” Your best friend said, you came all over his face.
Then they changed positions, the whole thing starting anew. “oh gods…” You said when your boyfriend kissed your sensitive pussy tenderly. You had time for one breath before his tongue fully develed into your cunt. You threw your head back. Your best friend chuckled and kissed you. You tasted yourself on his lips. His hands also teased your nipples. He kissed down to your erect nipples. They were already sensitive and he assaulted them with his skilled mouth and hot tongue. You moaned, writhing in pleasure and trying to close your legs. Your boyfriend held your legs apart, making room for himself to fuck you properly with his mouth. His fingers joined the came, through routine he curled his fingers directly into your g-spot, making you see stars and jolting up. You whined: “Cumming!” Before you came all over his face as well. Your werewolf best friend growled something about it being unfair. you could feel his cock rubbing against your back and see how hard your boyfriend was too. “Who was better sweetheart?” He tried to coax out of you, but you refused to answer. “Well then we have to continue.” He said with a grin. Once again his fingers delved into your cunt, abusing the sweet spot that made you see stars, shortly making you cum a second time. You whimpered and held onto your best friend for support, not even able to tell them you were reaching your orgasm again. “Such a good girl.” Your best friend crooned before he reached between your thighs, he was now to finger you. Firstly he rubbed your swollen clit, making you jolt up, but your boyfriend lent him a hand and held you down. You were loving every second of this, you were overstimulated but didn’t want it to stop.
His fingers rubbed circles over your clit, making you moan softly. He did that faster and faster, until you loudly came from his hand action, leaving you trembling. It had become a competition for them, and both of them were eager to win. They kissed your body all over, marking, sucking and biting. So many sensations you sometimes didn’t know who was doing what.
“Show me if its true, that wolves fuck the best.” Your boyfriend said to your best friend. The werewolf chuckled and quickly undressed himself. Your eyes went wide when you saw his dick for the first time, you reached out. Wanting to jerk him off a little, but your best friend scolded: “No baby, let us pleasure you.” Before he stroked himself a few times. He repositioned you into doggy style, ass up and face down. He rubbed his tip ud and down your slit. His precum mixed with your slick before he slowly and carefully sunk fully into you. You whined and moaned, feeling so full by his cock. After a short moment he began to move, his slow thrusts turned into a mad pounding. Tacking you like a wild animal. his cock was rubbing in all the right areas, making you tremble and push your back through. “Fuck!” You screamed and held onto your boyfriend who stroked your hair and praised you. Your best friend and you came together. He creampied you and you sank down onto the bed. But there was no break for you as your boyfriend turned you around on your back. Gently he sunk his cock into you, placing one of your legs over his shoulder. It was his favourite position. His hand found your clit, rubbing it while he thrusted in slow and hard thrusts. The cum of your best friend oozed out of your pussy, making a lewd squelching sound. “Such a good girl, letting us settle our fight over you by fucking you…” He praised you. “Maybe we should tag team her more often together. I mean look at her.” Your best friend said. “Dream on, wolf.” Your boyfriend said. You whined, wanting them to stop fighting. Instead your best friend said: Quit it and fuck her harder.” Your boyfriend obeyed, fucking you faster and harder. You whined and shivered. Coaxing another orgasm out of you. He spilled his seed inside of you, but you knew he was still hard.
Just when you thought it was over, they decided for something else. “Lets fuck her togehter.” Your best friend suggested, your boyfriend agreeing. “I think she deserves to cum out of her mind, I mean she has been our plaything and deserves at least one more orgasm. You whined, feeling like jelly. They lifted you up, using the combined cum and your slick as lube. You had done some anal stuff with your boyfriend before. Your best friend lubed up his cock with it and gently took you from behind while your boyfriend took your pussy. They held you up in the air, your feet not reaching the ground. You held onto them for dear life. “Please…” You pleaded, not even knowing what you were pleading for. They began to move. They synced their movements, you saw stars, it felt so good. Their big cocks rubbed the right places, a hand was at your clit rubbing it and you could feel your boyfriend bite your neck. While he sucked your blood both of them fucked you like their life depended on it. Grabbing your hips, surely leaving bruises, making you cum and fucking you through it to a far bigger orgasm.
They moaned, held onto you and when they came you saw black for a moment. You screamed your pleasure out, overstimulated, fucked out of your mind, happy. Their cocks left your holes, making you feel empty. You whined and they gently placed you on the bed. They got some water for you and cleaned you up with a towel. You were so fucked out that you let them pamper you, you whined until they finally came to bed to cuddle you.
Maybe they could be friends, at least when it comes to pleasuring you…
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Taglist: @kyoko-neko
Divider Credit: @thecutestgrotto
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sanguineterrain · 5 months
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Hey! Can I request a Clark x reader where they're dating but reader doesn't know Clark is superman. And then superman interacts with them for whatever reason and is flirty bc that's his person!!! But reader is like ☝️ hey buddy back off. I'm HAPPILY taken
this is such a cute request!!!! Argh!!!!
clark kent/superman x gn!reader. fluff, brief danger but r is okay. superman flirting with you but he's dating you? he's just a goober. i lub him <3 PLEASE feel free to imagine maws!clark. I feel like this is very himcore 🥰
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Being a florist in Metropolis is good work. Lots of people still buy flowers, which is great. Many actually buy bouquets for Superman and leave them on display as support. Poppies, yellow tulips, and cornflowers. They're one of your favorite arrangements.
The downside to being a florist in Metropolis, however, is that on occasion, your flower display ends up the target of a killer robot.
You're not sure why that is. Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots.
You've gone outside to see what the commotion is about when you're grabbed by a metal claw. It squeezes hard, almost cutting off your air. You squirm in terror as the robot stomps down Main Street, crushing cars and asphalt in its wake.
"Help!" you scream when you catch your breath, and the robot squeezes you harder.
A dizzying blur of red, yellow, and blue zips past you. You think of your flowers.
The blur cuts through the metal like nothing. The robot begins to collapse, twitching and groaning. Its metal creaks, grip loosening on your body.
You hardly fall before Superman is there, cradling you to his chest.
"I've got you," he says, tucking you close.
You look up at him, and he beams at you, like saving you from a killer robot has been the best part of his day.
Come to think of it, Superman came to your aid surprisingly fast, even for him.
And he holds you... intimately. Like you've known him for years. Your heart picks up.
"Uh," he says, cheeks flushed. "Are–are you okay?"
You smile politely, arms around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Superman."
He nods, flying down the street. "Good. I'll get you back to your shop and clean up the flowers."
You tilt your head. "How do you know I'm a florist?"
Superman looks at you, blue eyes wide.
"Oh! I... uh, I've seen your arrangements all over the city. They're beautiful. I'd never forget that they belong to an equally beautiful face."
Goodness. If Superman is this forward with everyone he rescues, it's no wonder your flower arrangements are in high demand.
"I'm flattered," you begin, and Superman once again aims that grin with the power of a thousand suns at you. "But, respectfully, I'm very happily taken, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep this rescue professional."
Superman raises an eyebrow. To your surprise, he smiles wider.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't realize you were taken. My sincerest apologies. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."
"No, it's alright. I'm honored, but you couldn't pull me away from my boyfriend even with your super strength."
Superman's cheeks turn pinker. He sets you down in front of your store with the utmost care, not letting go until you have your bearings. He takes a step back, rubbing his neck. The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why.
"Well, uh, he must've done something right if he's lucky enough to be with you."
"Luck has nothing to do with it," you say fiercely. You don't know why you're so indignant about defending Clark's reputation to Superman. It's not like Clark will ever hear about it.
"No?"
"Not at all. He's an incredible person, kind and smart and loving, and if anyone's lucky, it's me."
Superman makes an aborted gesture to take your hand, then redirects and awkwardly pats your arm instead. You squint at him. He quickly moves away.
"Ah. Sorry. Well, I doubt that. I bet you're equally spectacular."
"Oh. Thank you."
You primly take his hand and give it a good shake. Superman bows his head and laughs.
He takes a step back, eyes bright like you've just made his day.
"Well, I wish you the best with your boyfriend. I'm sorry for being so forward. I've seen your Superman bouquets; your reputation precedes you. I make it a point to know reputed people in Metropolis."
"I can't imagine I'm very high on that list," you say.
"Ah, you'd be surprised. Besides, I never forget a face."
Superman darts behind you and moves at neckbreaking speed to clean up your partially maimed flowers. In three seconds, it's returned to its former glory.
"Well, uh, I'll be seeing you," Superman says, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, I hope not in a circumstance like this! Th-then again, when else would we see each other? Scratch that, I hope there's no reason for us to cross paths because that would mean you're in danger. Uh, but I don't mean that in a bad way! I just—"
You snort and reach over to take a yellow tulip from your display. You give it to Superman, who takes it like you've just handed him a newborn baby.
"I'm still taken," you say. "But you're very sweet, Superman. Take care, alright?"
"Yeah," he says, tucking the tulip into the strap of his cape. "Yes, you too. Goodbye!"
He soars away, the tulip like a star on his cape.
Superman is handsome and kind, no doubt. But he's certainly no Clark Kent.
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kleftiko · 2 years
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❦ PRO HEROES/VILLAINS FAVOURITE POSITIONS
cw: mature, gn!reader
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—aizawa
you on top. 100%. no debate. not only because he’s always tired, but because he wants to look up to you like the deity you are. he wants you to take control, use him to make you feel good. he does not think he deserves you, but he would do anything to keep you happy and satisfied. that’s his favourite position, but if you want anything else, he moves in a snap.
—hawks
missionary. now, this position is incredible when you’re in love, for hook ups its meh. despite his flirty attitude, he absolutely adores you. he wants to hold you close, admire your pleasure stricken face, and kiss you all over. he wants you all to himself, all day, every day. and when your fingers trail up his back, dragging across his shoulder blades and wings meet, it has him shaking.
—dabi
doggy style. man has trust issues, commitment issues, intimacy issues, you name it, he has it. he can’t look at your face, the haze in your eyes from pleasure and love are too much for him. give him time, be patient, and he will come around. but there’s nothing like the jiggle of your ass as he thrusts into you that will always hold the title of his favourite thing.
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Simon has one favorite piece of clothing you wear and of course when he's having a rough day, you just have to wear it for him.
Simon was all stress and tension, tight shoulders, furrowed brows, and pursed lips. He had just come back from deployment and had not fully decompressed yet, having a harder time of it this go around. Usually a day was all it took to get him to slough off the burdens of his job, yet this was day two and he was still not feeling himself. You wanted to do something to help him release all that pent up emotion, and you knew just how to do it.
Something that he just couldn't resist.
At the front of your closet you found it, his current favorite piece of clothing you owned: a flirty little floral number that he had bought last time he was in. The moment he saw that dress on you after having spotted it sitting on that rack in the store, the way it hugged your curves like it was made specifically for your body, he knew you could not go home without it.
The fabric was soft, cut incredibly short, and low cut enough in the front that it left barely anything to the imagination... exactly what you needed it to do.
You slipped it on, the only thing you slipped on, and headed back out to the living room where he sat in the oversized cushioned seat idly messing around with his hands as some show played in the background on the TV.
As you casually stepped into the room, his eyes fixated on you as you walked closer towards him, a little extra sway in your hips as you moved.
Squatting down to your knees before him with your hands splayed across his thighs for leverage, you kept his gaze locked within your own as you pushed open his legs a bit more so you could crawl between them and into his lap. You arched your back as you moved up until you were able to wrap your arms around his shoulders, your breasts pressing against his chest.
"Hi," you smiled playfully. With gentle fingertips you combed your fingernails through his scalp at the back of his head while you rocked your lower half lazily back and forth between his legs to keep your knees from getting stiff.
Those brown eyes began to sparkle back to life.just as they always did whenever you were around. "Hi back," he smirked; it was clear that you were up to something, though he didn't know what yet. "And just what do ya think you're doin', luv?"
You shook your head back and forth. "Nothing," you said, feigning innocence by diverting your eyes coyly before looking back. "Just thought I'd look nice for you is all."
You had peaked his interest and he raised a strong brow as his hands found your hips. "Is that why you have this thing on?" he asked, pulling at the fabric of your dress. "Cause you've got my attention; you know how much I fuckin' love that little thing."
"Exactly why I put it on," you smiled. "Maybe I'm trying to take all your attention, make you forget all your cares."
That one line made his cold heart skip a beat; you were always doing little things like that to please him and fucking hell did he enjoy it. Simon's hand captured your chin in its grasp suddenly and he firmly pulled your face into his so that he could press a kiss to your soft, moist, inviting lips. It was instaneous the way he melted into you, his shoulders relaxing the moment your lips met, as if everything else in the room had desolved except for you and him.
"God, you are a pretty fuckin' thing, aren't you, sweetheart?" he breathed against your mouth. "Always remindin' me how fuckin' lucky I am."
He released your chin and moved down to your back where his fingertips drug across the length of your spine down all the way to your ass and back again is slow rotations.
"Mmmm..." you hummed into his sculpted shoulder as you rested your head there while he touched you.
Shit like that made the ice he built around his heart to keep him sane during missions melt. "You like that, yeah?" he asked with a smirk as his rough hands traveled down lower until he got to the curve of your ass where he cupped it in both of his hands.
"Aren't wearing any panties?" he said with surprise as he cradled your bare bottom covered just slightly by the very edge of the dress hem before he slid his hand under the fabric to massage the bare skin. "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart."
You chuckled as his touch sent shivers up your back. "Thought maybe you'd want to play with me, if you aren't busy that is," you said against the crook of his neck before your lips connected repeatedly with the flesh there as you held the side of his head against your palm. "Why don't you let me help you unwind?"
Jesus Christ how in the hell was he supposed to say no to that? His touch became more greedy and firm in response to your offer. "You keep sayin shit like that luv," he growled, "and I might just have to fuck you until my mind is empty and your legs are numb. Come on, come 'ere."
Offering his open hand, Simon pulled you up so that he could move you into his lap so you could sit on top of those full thick thighs. Your perky breasts sitting up high in the front of the dress hit his vision, immediately making his head woozy. "This, this right here is already making me forget every fuckin' thing."
It had been a hot minute since you had been showered in his unique brand of flattery and you couldn't help the warm, red flush that flood your cheeks at his words. You turned your head, embarrassed that even after all this time you'd been together he could still make you blush.
"Don't you look away now sweetheart; you just keep looking at me with those pretty eyes. Don't gotta be shy 'round me," he purred as he guided your head back, "not when I'm about to have that pretty little dress layin' on the ground. Or maybe... shit, I'll just fuck you in it."
Again you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him close. "Whatever you want," you said. "Use me."
Damn, you did always know the right words to say to make him come alive. "You are just too fuckin' good to me, luv," he sighed.
He was a lucky, lucky man indeed.
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tremendum · 11 months
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personal lies
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[not my gif. title from the song of the same name, by Djo.] pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her)     rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)       word count: 5.6k  requested: Hi! Your work is so insane and incredible! I've literally been thinking about Joel Miller nonstop and was wondering if you'd write a fic where reader is flirty but also has a way of getting herself into clumsy situations- like she bends over to grab something at a party and Joel turns around at the same time and he's pressed right against reader's ass- and these situations keep happening and she just bullies him about him being a pervert until he finally does something about it ;) Keep up the incredible writing!! summary: "when you were young, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - but he was just your dad's friend, someone who would make you blush strictly because he was teasing you. now, though - he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons." warnings: healthy age gap (reader is around 23, Joel is like 47), DBF!Joel, Mean!Joel, brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader, dom!Joel, semi-public sex, light voyeurism, choking, light dacryphilia, inappropriate use of household appliances, use of word slut, its dirty, slight allusions to exhibitionism, brief choking, so much dirty talk (its joel), so much degradation, reader calls Joel a pervert, teasing, slight dumbification, brief spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum play, spanking. think that's it!
notes: okay once again, another mean!Joel for the soul! its a problem! im happy for this request bc it helped so much with my writer's block. pls pls keep sending requests i love them all u guys are amazing.
[other Joel fics: i’ve got headaches and bad luck but they couldn’t touch you fever landmines  Mr. Miller Series ]
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★  
the bathroom window fogs much quicker than it used to. 
it's the first thing you've realized since returning back to your childhood home - the lack of use in your old shower, now empty of all the half-used floral shampoos and body scrubs of your youth. 
you suppose it makes sense, with your father living on his own now that you're five years out of the house - he has no real need to shower in the bathroom you'd once used as your own. in fact, as you examine under the cabinets and the medicine cupboard, it seems as though he's converted it into a storage room for cleaning supplies and the odd bundle of cotton swabs. 
it makes you grin as you massage lotion into your legs, staring at your foggy reflection. 
your father's muffled voice from downstairs shouts something and, in lieu of a response, you towel off and wrap it around yourself, cursing your father for not restocking towels that were large enough to cover yourself in a modest way to your trek back to your room; not that it much matters, your father's friends won't be arriving for another hour and a half, at the least. 
you're struck with something from your youth when you open the door, though -
and it grunts in response. 
the breath leaves your throat as your eyes drag over the expanse of chest which lies just in front of the bathroom, with a hand extended almost as if he were about to open the door - muscular arms and a familiar wristwatch - certainly not your father's. 
you gape up at Joel Miller, who stares, wide-eyed, back down at your form.
your face floods with an immense amount of heat; Joel Miller, your father's closest friend.
you haven't seen him since last summer - and before then it was even more scarce. between college out of state and splitting summers with your father and mother, before your visit home last summer, you don't think you'd seen him since you left for university. 
he's changed, but not that much - tan, with hair that curls at the nape of his neck, a nicely fit t-shirt that brings out the honey of his eyes. now, though, he's got slight smile lines on his face that compliment his striking, burly features and a peppering of gray through his hair; your mouth runs dry as you take in the large frame of thick shoulders and contoured biceps. christ. 
when you were a teen, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - he was kind, funny, and would always buy you iced tea when he ran for some beers for him and your father after a day working around the house or in the yard. but he was just your dad's friend, someone who made you blush strictly because he was teasing you. 
now, though - ever since last summer when you'd caught his eyes lingering on your figure a few too many times, he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons. it was a thrilling game you came to know last summer - the way he’d flush and clench his jaw after every quip, each slight tease of phrase, wink, of riding up of your skirt when he walked by.
it makes your stomach flip still - and the most delicious part of it all is the smoldering glares he'd give you when you pushed him too far; last summer, you'd discovered the only good thing about your clumsy, teasing nature: Joel's reactions. 
he’s everything the gentleman, always has been - even when you pushed his buttons, flustered him, he never lost his cool. only ever let his eyes wander and speak for themselves.
so when you open the door directly into him, you’re shocked to see him standing there, eyes wide.
his appearance throws you off, as there was nobody besides your father in the house when you'd stepped into the shower minutes before. tilting your head, you regain your footing quickly, heart picking up as you see his eyes rake over the length of your legs, exposed from the tiny pink towel you wear.
it’s been far too long you think, noting the change in his face when he recognizes you.
his eyes scour over every curve of your body, as if seeing you for the first time- you can’t hide your smirk. "can I help you with something, Joel?"  
his eyes avert just as quick as they found you, staring at something extremely interesting just above the crown of your head. "was lookin' for some rags. your father spilled downstairs." he shifts on his feet, looking into the steamy bathroom behind your frame, "didn't realize there was anybody home..." 
you hum, lifting a brow, "good thing I came out when I did," you send him a sly grin, "or else you'd have gotten a show." you tease, shooting him a gentle wink.
his eyes narrow slightly, tilting his head. he mutters your name lowly and it strikes you that you haven’t seen him in over a year and here you are, staring up at him, in a minuscule towel.
“watch it. didn’t know y’were in there.” he utters, sounding defensive as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.
the rumble of your name as it leaves his lips is insatiable; it bathes you in heat as his eyes flicker down towards your chest and back up to your eyes and you smirk, a light tut leaving your mouth.
"sure you didn’t, Joel.”
he cocks a brow at your implications, his head tilting slightly, but he says nothing. your father yells something about warped wood downstairs and the moment snaps, Joel clearing his throat and you looking away.
“I'm onto you, perv." you smirk, winking once again. you don't give yourself the chance to see his reaction as you brush past him, a flick of your wet hair trailing over the green cotton of the shirt that hugs his biceps. you don't hear him move even as you slide past your door and shut it. 
it’s not until you’re inside your room that you hear the bathroom door slam so hard it reverberates through your walls. you fight your racing heartbeat and dull throb of arousal, pressing your fingers against your hot cheeks. 
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"honey?" your dad calls as you leave your room.
“Joel's here. come say hi and help us set up."
your heart skips, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you round the stairs, where the two men stand at the bottom. feigning surprise, you start down the steps towards them. "hi, Mr. Miller." you say pleasantly, "when did you get here?" 
Joel's eyes flash with something as he watches you, tilting his head as if trying to decipher what you're playing at - as if he didn’t see you in a towel thirty minutes ago.
"little bit ago." he responds, shifting on his feet and watching you with crossed arms. “when did you get here?” he counters, nodding to your suitcase, which sits still at the top of your stairs.
your dad laughs at your words, though, breaking the tension he didn't even feel before you can answer Joel’s question. "-Mr. Miller? since when did you have any manners?" your dad snorts, "been calling him Joel as long as I have."   you roll your eyes playfully at him, reaching the last step, still a few inches shorter than the man next to your dad. 
Joel’s eyebrows raise; you look away as you grin. “trying to be polite, I guess. it’s been a bit.” you shrug.
"guess they did teach ya something mature in college, huh?" you dad smirks, nudging your arm. you flush and shrug just as Joel swallows, "haven't seen you in a while, sweetheart." he nods, "how've you been?" 
you smile, "been really good, Joel. better now that I get to see my favorite old man." you tease, stepping between the two men, eyes trailing over Joel's gaze even as you walk away. despite your dad's grunt of offense at your joke, he still grins, "you look nice, honey." he says, patting your shoulder.
you smile, not breaking eye contact with Joel as you hum, "thanks, I just showered."  
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the crowd is thicker than you expected.
you didn’t know your father even had this many friends.
besides your own friends who you’d invited to come catch up, you spent the afternoon chatting with nearly every person in the old neighborhood you’d ever met.
if you thought being home from school while you were a student was bad, being freshly graduated at a backyard barbeque full of your dad's friends was much, much worse. 
flocks of couples, neighbors, and family friends gravitate towards you in waves, asking about your achievements and new job and oh, what's it like in the big city? 
you're barely able to break away for a minute to stalk over to the side of your house, nestled up in the grass of your backyard, to grab refreshments - sure, you've already had a few beers and you're not particularly thirsty, but Joel's leaning up against the side of the house and you're drawn with a heat in your abdomen towards him.
a small group of men talk just next to the coolers, engrossed in some conversation that holds no interest to you; but he's there, and something inside you screams for his attention. 
you barely brush his back to excuse yourself past the bodies, reaching down into the cooler to fish out something palatable.
but your blood runs just as cold as the ice in your hand when a sudden pressure against your ass sends a shiver of desire through you. 
you instinctively gasp. the pressure of someone’s hips pressing firmly but briefly against your ass, by accident, startles you as you stand up, a pulsing desire spreading through you instantly once you see Joel, face in shock, behind you.
you swallow; he must have turned after thinking someone’d tried to get his attention, just as you’d bent over. your face heats up.
you're met with eyes that hold awkward shock and a small dark flame that flickers slowly as your shame suddenly melts into a smirk, lunging at the perfect opportunity to sink your claws into him. 
"s-sorry, didn't see you there." he stutters slightly. heat pools in your stomach at the flush on his cheeks, the white ring around his knuckles spreading where he grips the neck of his beer bottle too tight. 
grinning, you shrug. "it's okay, Joel. I'm sure it was an accident. you seem to be prone to them." you say sweetly, voice sounding almost simpering as you smile.
from the look he gives you, it's clear he can see right through your words. "were you grabbing a beer?" you ask, watching his jaw clench. 
"no, I was-" but he stops himself at the teasing raise of your brows, shaking his head as he tries to save himself from your teasing. "sure. yeah." 
but just like that, he's fallen into your trap, and you smile, “just watch where you’re standing this time, yeah?” you ask. and within a split second, you're bending over again right before him, falsely digging through ice to grab a bottle that you know he likes. you shift slightly, leaning your weight on one leg as to pop your hip slightly before straightening up and handing the bottle to him with a smirk.
when you whirl back around, his eyes are up towards the sky, jaw clenched tightly with strain as if silently praying to god; though you know Joel Miller has not once stepped foot into a church in his whole life. he clears his throat tersely, eyes meeting yours again as he grabs the bottle from you. "thanks," he mutters. 
"you might want to finish that one first." you say with a grin, nodding towards his half-full beer bottle opened in his hands. he looks riled as he sends you a harsh look that only makes you smirk more, shrugging as you saunter off. 
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as much as you try, you can’t get the feeling of Joel pressed against you out of your mind.
and, with a shivering glance across the patio, you can tell he can’t either; while fully engrossed in a conversation with a woman close to his age, you lock eyes with Joel for a full five seconds before you break away. his gaze is heavy and intent - it follows you, watches you interact with people from the town and your friends from high school.
despite the scorching stares he sends you from across the yard, you keep your distance from Joel, too. you're engrossed catching up with a few friends from high school on the patio when your dad pulls you aside, asking you to help out bringing the food onto the patio. 
bowls of chips, salads, roasted vegetables, condiments, and several different variations of sweets are brought out and spread across the folded tables outside. the smell of ribs and pulled pork from your father's smoker fills the air while you fill a tub full of water for the kids on the law to bob for apples in, watching from the serenity of your kitchen. 
the breeze floats through the open window as you stare out, the scene calm as you let your thoughts linger. out near the yard, a woman leans down to pick up a discarded paper plate and the man beside her places his hand on her hip; a gentle squeeze that has your eyes glued to the motion. unable to help it, your mind wanders.
Joel's hands are large; they're rough with callouses from work and the skin gets cracked during the winter, but they're warm. you start to wonder if he's got a woman to touch like that - sure, you remember a few women who'd hung out around your dad and him when you were younger, once Sarah was old enough. but there'd never, to your knowledge, been a serious girlfriend.
you watch with desire as the man taps the woman's hip, fingers close to her ass, as she straightens, and it causes you to avert your eyes. your cheeks heat as you imagine the way it'd feel if you were out there - if the man's hand was Joel's, if he were to grab you in the middle of all these people, shove you down onto your knees-
you clear your throat, eyes snapping down to the sink where the water was overflowing from the bin with a gentle bubbling noise.
you groan to yourself in embarrassment. you need to get a fucking grip - no, you need to get laid. 
the tub is filled a little too high; it's unsteady as you lift it up, hoisting it above your hips to hold against yourself as you turn around. but there's a figure behind you that makes you jump in shock, jolting the tub until it spills over yourself. you're hit with a shocking rush of cold as the water tips and drenches you; you let out a sharp yelp as one hand flies to your chest. "christ!" you snap, eyes landing on the perpetrator - 
"Joel!" you snap, "you scared me."
"jesus," he mutters, moving towards you, grabbing the bin from you and placing it down on the counter, "I wasn't even close t'you, sweetheart. I was walkin' into the garage." 
you swallow, taking a breath to calm your tight nerves. "I was zoned out, I guess-" you curse your bumbling hands, a light breeze catching over your wet skin and sending a shiver through you. just your luck.
you sigh, tilting your head, "what are you doing, slinking around here?" you raise a brow as you accuse him. he rolls his eyes, "ain't slinking anywhere. was goin' to find apples. your dad is adamant about those kids on the lawn. afraid they're gonna tear up his landscaping." 
you sigh, shaking your head, "you made me spill." you pout dumbly, heart still pounding as you become increasingly aware of how wet your dress is- his eyes narrow, "'s not my fault you're always gettin' yourself into trouble." he mutters, shrugging as he looks down at your chest, the fabric slowly melding itself against your hot skin as the water spreads. 
"says you." you retort, shaking your head. his eyes catch yours after you mutter it; a quick, intense glance that sends a strike of heat through you. a warning look. 
but as always, he doesn't linger on your teasing, instead clearing his throat and moving on. it drives you mad as he hums. "at least it's water." he tries, "clean you right up." he hands you a dish towel, which you take with a quirked brow. desire burns between your legs.
"I already showered today," your voice is seductive, floating through the tense silence of the room as your eyes meet the side of his face. "as I'm sure you haven't forgot." you tease.
his hands freeze from where they were, wiping some of the water from the counter with a towel. he turns slowly to look at you, face dark. the air suddenly feels thick. "what's that supposed to mean?" his voice is low, brows drawn as he stares down at you - jaw clenched, chest heaving. his eyes dare you to say it, to let him take a bite. 
you hum, "don't act coy now, Mr. Miller." you tease, watching his eyes darken with your words. "I see the way you watch me. don't act like you aren't thinking about me." you add boldly, heart hammering - if, somehow, you've made it all up in your delusional head, you're utterly fucked. 
but his jaw ticks and his inhale is sharp, a flicker of his eyes down to your bra as it peeks through the wet material gives him away. it lights a flame within you that nothing else ever has. 
"creeping around upstairs while I'm showering. you're trying to tell me you weren't about to slide in, take a peek?" you tilt your head to stare up at him through lidded eyes, kicking the teasing up the highest you've ever done. 
you push onto your tip toes, your dripping chest mere inches from his as the barbeque continues feet away, outside. "you want to see it, don't you? feel me against you, like you did out there? I'm really warm." you mutter, drinking in his silence as he heaves his chest against yours. “and so tight.” you whisper, bold courage seeping through you as your eyes fall to the straining tent in his pants.
a rush of pride tickles you when he doesn't stop you, doesn't tell you off - so you continue, legs jelly with arousal. "I'm way too young for you, but you just can't stop yourself, can you?" you whisper into his ear, "you're so perverted, Joel." 
you're throbbing with heat when you pull back slightly to drink in his red cheeks, his piercing stare that nearly kills you. his glare is molten, sharp as his gaze flickers from you then out to the party, returning with a burning malice. "go change. now." is all he says.
"are you distracted, Joel?" you tease, smirking up at him. “or just too scared?”
“shut up.” he orders, the malice behind it barely surviving his bark as his eyes dip quickly to your chest and back.
you smirk, “you can’t keep your eyes away from me. you’re a sick man, Joel.” you mutter, letting your hand drag down the neckline of your dress, exposing your breasts through your wet fabric. he nearly growls, rough hand flying to your bare arm, tugging you close to him. "take it off." he hisses.
you blink up at him, shivering from the hungry, dark eyes that seem to tear you apart inch by inch, as you breathe out a defiant, "you're not my dad." 
he chuckles at that, an exhale leaving his lips. "you're damn right 'm not. and you're not a fuckin' child. go change." 
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you settle on a darker sundress this time, to avoid another wardrobe malfunction.
your heart hammers just as loud in your throat as it did minutes earlier in the kitchen as you stare out your bedroom window, searching for one figure in the crowd of guests. Joel's nowhere in sight, yet the kids are all huddled around a tub of water with bright red apples bobbing up and down. 
with a sharp sigh, you gather your undergarments and dress to bring down to the washer, flicking off your light. 
the laundry room smells fresh - a breath of clean air after the suffocating tenseness of the kitchen. the thought of Joel's face makes your cunt flutter slightly; that dark, angry stare - the rouge of his cheeks at your words. where doubt should creep in, nothing but pride fills your mind, knowing you can rile up the man just as easy as riding a bike. 
you've just started the wash cycle, moving to stand up when the door slams shut, making you jump once again to be met with Joel's large frame. 
you raise your brows, masking your shock and nerves with a grin, "back for more, creep? too late, I already put my panties in the wash-" 
but he crowds into you so quick that your mouth snaps shut; your back hits the edge of the washer as you stare up at him, shocked. "'m tired of your shit," he sneers, eyes angry, "prancin' around, wearing next to nothin' and bendin' over for everyone to see." your stomach flutters.
he sneers his next words. "you really that clumsy, or are you just too shy to admit how bad your pussy's aching for your daddy's best friend?" 
your jaw nearly drops from such bluntness coming from Joel's lips. you've rarely even heard him cuss - only during football games and the one time he burnt his hand on the grill after you'd leaned over and given him a perfect view down your shirt. 
 "Joel-" you start, a rush of arousal flooding the seat of your panties as you're pushed backwards. he leans into your space, dipping his head until he's in your ear. "who's the real creep, huh?" he mutters, warm breath scattering chills over your neck, "you’re sick, baby. goin' after men almost twice your age." he tuts, sliding his thick jeans between the soft skin of your thighs. “you got no idea what a man like me could do t’ya.” you gasp sharply, hands gripping his thick shoulders and he pushes you back further, your spine thrumming with the rumble of the washing machine.
“bet you think you can show me, don’t you?” you challenge, raising a brow.
"tired of your bullshit, sweetheart." he shakes his head, leaning back. "how am I gonna get you to shut up?" he asks mockingly. you swallow, canting your hips slightly as a prickle of desire rolls over you. "bet you'd love to turn this into a lesson, wouldn't you Joel?" you tease back, but he moves his leg up slightly, the rough material brushing against your heat. jolts of pleasure erupt from the spot and you let out a short mewl. his hand rises to grip your jaw, firm but gentle. his skin is hot and large against your cheeks. 
"don't lie, sweetheart, you love it." he growls, "you love trippin' and spillin' shit just so I can come clean up your mess for you. 's that right? you just need my attention?" his thumb caresses over your cheek, jilting a brow as he stares down at you, "answer me." 
you swallow dryly, nodding pathetically, "yes." 
he tuts, condescending as he tilts his head. "where's all the teasing now, baby? you're always so talkative. did'ya realize I'm too much for you?" he taunts. 
you shake your head, eyes wide, "no!" you eject, flames of heat licking your cheeks as he smirks. you try to go back on yourself, play down your eagerness, "-no, you're not too much, I promise." 
he tilts his head the other way this time, eyes sharp. "so what is it, then? y'afraid of all the people out there? that your daddy's gonna come looking for ya and find us in here? see me touching you, like the pervert I am? because I'll leave right now 'f that's what you want." 
you shiver as another rush of arousal floods you, twitching your hips at his words, the low drawl of his voice. you grasp him tight by his biceps, holding yourself against him as you meet his hot stare, unable to voice your desires. your blood pumps with need. 
"oh." he hums, eyes narrowing as he pushes his thigh up against you roughly, eliciting a short moan from you. "or do you like that?" 
you swallow, eyes lowering to where you drag your hips over his leg, pathetically desperate. he chuckles and it reverberates in his chest under your palms. "anyone could walk in here, sweetheart. your dad could be on the other side." he whispers into your ear, coaxing a moan from you - he tuts, "-an the washer's not loud enough if y'gonna moan like that." 
you nod, staring into his eyes; they pierce you with their intensity. he's giving you an out, asking if this is what you really want, or if its just some juvenile grasp for attention. your mind has been made up since you found out Joel was coming today, though. 
"I'll be quiet for you, Joel." you whisper, nodding, "I can handle it." 
you can tell, he likes that; he presses to you fully, his hardening cock pressing against your side. you sharply inhale, the reality settling in as you drip with desire, aching for his touch. boldly, with a breath of fresh desire, you snake your hand down to palm him through his jeans - he's thick, straining against his jeans as his grip on your jaw tightens. 
"how long have you been this hard, Joel?" you tease, confidence sudden as you smirk, "bet you've been thinking of me since you tried to sneak into the shower earlier for a peep show." 
his hand slides down to grasp your throat as your sentence tapers out: a squeeze causes a rush of pleasure through you. "quit it with the fuckin' lyin'. you're already desperate enough." his breath is hot on your face. with a grin, you accentuate a squeeze on his bulge, coaxing a short grunt from him. "says you, old man?"
this pushes him to the edge. 
rough hands leave your hip and throat to flip your body over, pushing you until you're bent over the washing machine, its vibrations tremoring your whole body. "eager, are you?" you tease, gasping when one hand presses you from the base of your neck.
his voice is sharp in response, "tired of you, sweetheart. gonna fuck all the teasin' right out of you." 
your cunt flutters at his words, wiggling your hips until you press against his crotch, feeling the hard thickness of his clothed cock over your panties. "-and you'll probably love every second of it too.” you mutter against the cold white surface of the washer. 
a harsh swat on your ass makes you yelp slightly, the pleasure smearing arousal between your thighs, legs shaky with anticipation. you swallow heavily when your dress is shoved up over your hips, exposing your skimpy panties to Joel as his large hands splay over the flesh of your ass. 
his hands grip and squeeze your skin, teasing you, as slowly his fingers graze over the seat of your underwear, toying with the ruined, soaked fabric. "you're dripping," he taunts you, the stark words causing your eyes to widen, a short whimper leaving your lips. "eager, are you?" he parrots your words. 
you let out a shuddered moan, swallowing as a finger falls to rub feather-light circles over your throbbing, clothed clit. the sensation has you bucking back against his touch, but his own grip on you prevents your movement; a harsh grip on your neck, forcing you down against the vibrations of the machine.
"tell me what you want." Joel mutters, voice commanding. you resist the urge once again to roll your eyes as you grit your teeth; your own medicine tastes bitter as he feeds you spoonfuls. "come on, you've always loved to talk." he sneers, his voice taunting, as if recalling all the times you've teased him, secretly aching for him. "you had such good manners in front of your daddy earlier, didn't you? so where's that pretty please? say pretty please, Joel, please fuck me on my daddy’s washing machine." he adds, thumb pressing down slightly harder on your clit. a strangled noise escaped your throat, your eyes wrenching shut. “say you want me to use you.”
"fuck- pretty please- J-Joel, please use me-“ you whimper, giving up as he hums at your words. a squeeze on your throat.
“y’gonna knock it off with the desperate teasing?” he asks sharply, holding you towards his mouth. you swallow, trying to hide your grin at the wall and hoping Joel can’t see it.
“yes, Joel, just please, please fuck me.” you submit to his request, throbbing with desire.
you feel his chest as he leans over you, breath against your spine. "begging your dad's best friend to fuck you? you’re so dirty, baby. you should be ashamed." he tuts, kissing your spine in a feather-light touch as his other hand slides your panties to the side, your arousal already dripping down your legs. 
your cheeks flush as you nod wordlessly, wiggling your hips slightly, cunt aching for him. 
he doesn't make you wait any longer; his cock is thick and heavy as he pulls himself out of his jeans, running his shaft through your molten heat.
your gasp is strangled as his tip nudges your clit, a groan from his lips rumbling and low as you hold your breath in anticipation. he rocks his hips again and your legs soon tense up, cold against the washer as your hands grip the sides, "hurry, please." your voice is breathless and cracked as you ask it, exhausted and driven wild from his teasing. "need it so bad.“ you whimper breathlessly. 
he has the audacity to chuckle lightly, his thickness spreading your juices and notching just at your entrance before sliding past in tease. your nails scrape the metal as your eyes clench shut - he's so big; a flood of nerves rolls over you. 
"i know you do, sweetheart.” he mutters; you almost consider slapping him, but then you're sharply inhaling at the sudden sensation of his spit, dripping down onto your pulsing, aching heat. you can't help the moan at the feeling; there's a moment where Joel's hand caresses your cheek gently and you can't help but lean into his warm skin, keening at the touch, until it slides over your mouth and you realize he's muffling you.
and then he pushes forwards, breaching your tight, hot cunt. 
and you’re gasping. simultaneously, you suck in breaths at the sensation, his own groan so low it may be a growl. 
your brows pinch together at the tight fit; he's so big and you're tight with desire as he slowly inches himself inside, relishing in the agonizing pleasure of him nearly splitting you open. "Joel," you whimper, voice completely muffled by his tight hold on your mouth. 
he whispers hot against the shell of your ear, "you better be quiet." 
his voice sends a flood of arousal through you, coaxing his cock further into you, enveloping him into your warmth as his cock presses against the spongy part of you that has your back arching in a gasp. and then he's dragging himself slowly out of you, thrusting back in deep and slow. 
he lets out a shuttering breath into your collarbone as your nails dig into metal. you squirm at how deep he is; sweat lines your brow as your body is forced against the machine, barely able to accommodate his size. you let out a breathless, broken whine into his palm at the feeling, his length nearly splitting you, the sounds of your arousal slicking him and coating you both as he starts to thrust with a deep pace.
he holds you hard against the machine, ensuring you can't buck your hips, the other hand sliding to your neck, keeping just where he wants you at the angle that has both your eyes nearly rolling back. 
he growls as he starts to fuck into you hard and rough, the washer shaking with his thrusts. "take me, that's right." he grunts - the sentence sends your toes curling in pleasure. "fuck-" he grunts, "dirty slut, letting me fuck you right here- practically begging me all night-" 
the vibrations from the washing machine send tremors of pleasure through you and with wide eyes, you can feel your orgasm growing quickly. you can't help the gasps as Joel hits the spot in you that has tears brimming at the edge of your vision. 
"you close already, sweetheart?" he taunts, hand grabbing both your wrists to pin them against your back. you can't move as he pumps into you, the machine hitting the wall as the fire writhes in your abdomen. 
you nod, tears almost spilling in pleasure. the vibrations are bringing you so close to the edge as he hits the spongy spot inside you that nearly makes you scream; he chuckles darkly. "you need a little more, baby?" 
you nod, wailing gently against him as you try to move against him, toes leaving the ground as he fucks you into the machine. "you wanna cum, hm?" 
you nod furiously, yelping, "yes!" through his muffling. 
you feel a familiar warm feeling in your abdomen after a several deep thrusts and you moan out as he lifts your leg slightly up, hitting a new angle that nearly sends you over the edge. "fuck." he hisses.
his hands grip your wrists tight, "you know how t'touch your clit, don't you, baby?" he asks. you nod, looking towards the wall as you can't crane your neck further to see him. he doesn't let up on his thrusts, even as you glare at the wall, nodding with a whimper. 
"why don't you touch yourself, then?" he asks, teasing with a dark lilt in his voice that sends thrills through your body. you flutter and clench at his condescending tone, his hand pinning your wrists back as you struggle to move your hand to where you most need it. 
"c'mon, sweetheart, try harder. work for it." 
a tear falls onto the washing machine as he thrusts deep, hard. he hums low, leaning over and hitting a new angle, lips against your neck. "you gonna stop slutting yourself out? an’ stop callin' me a pervert when you throw yourself at me?" he asks, taunting. you groan, nodding enough that your neck hurts as you keen your back towards him, on a desperate edge of something brilliant. 
he hums, "'kay, baby. touch yourself. want you to cum on my cock." 
your hands are released and frantically your fingers find your sensitive clit, yelping as he presses his hand harder to your mouth. the feeling is blinding. 
your cunt flutters as you hit your high not two thrusts later, your whole body tense. you let out a long, loud whine of his name as you nearly short circuit. 
 “f-fucking tight-" he grunts, his own thrusts sloppy as he chases his own orgasm, already moving on from yours as you go limp with pleasure in his grasp. 
overstimulation sends your legs quivering as he grips you tighter, fucking into your throbbing heat. your cunt, still sensitive and contracting, drives Joel crazy - though you tense as you hear a familiar voice calling out Joel's name from the patio. 
your eyes widen, but Joel doesn't stop - not when your dad yells his name louder, as if he's entered the kitchen. 
and, to your horror, your dad calls out for Joel, asking if he's seen you. 
 you don’t miss the coincidence of your dad yelling into the house in search of you while his best friend cums inside you. a groan quiet in your ear as Joel suddenly stills deep inside you, hot spurts of his cum pumping into you, both your breaths heavy. he rocks into you, shaking breath as your father once again calls for him. 
when Joel pulls out of you, he caresses your spine, releasing your mouth. you suck in a breath, shuttering when his thumb slides over your ruined cunt, thumbing his cum back inside you gently, lowly groaning. 
you don't say anything, too shocked to speak as he pulls your panties back over you, dragging your dress over your ass.
releasing you from his grip, he hums into your ear, "now you’ll quit your fuckin' teasing, you hear me?" 
and then, within seconds, you hear him returning outside, calling back your dad's name while you try to stand upright on shaky legs. 
shit.
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2K notes · View notes
hotvintagepoll · 5 months
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Propaganda
Jane Fonda (Barbarella, Sunday in New York, Barefoot in the Park)—Feminist icon, LGBTQ+ rights activist since the 70s, Civil Rights and Native American rights advocate, environmentalist… she really is THE woman ever
Rita Hayworth (Gilda, Cover Girl)—Absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous. She steals every movie she’s in; she was Fred Astaire’s favorite dance partner, as you can see in clips from their movies [link][link]. Born Margarita Carmen Cansino, Rita's story had its tragedies—her father was awful and had her performing in nightclubs way, way too young; the studio totally remade her look because they were afraid of her hispanic image, putting her through painful treatments and diets; she had a string of failed marriages. But beside all that, I think there's something about Rita that still glows through—an inner beauty that has nothing to do with the studio, or the men who pinned their dreams on her. Rita brings an incandescence to roles that's impossible to replicate, and was truly a great actress in that she could switch from herself—shy Margarita—into a bold and glamorous femme fatale so convincingly everyone fell in love with her as Gilda. She's my favorite movie star, and I think she was a beautiful human through and through—Rita, gorgeous and real and shining bright.
This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Jane Fonda:
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" I assume she's already been submitted but I gotta make sure. I think there's an element to movies like Barbarella or her segment of Spirit of the Dead of those having been directed by her husband, who famously made movies about her being hot, and the incredible costume design also helped, but good lord. Look at her"
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"She was so pretty, dear lord! She was and still us stunning. She’s great at comedy and drama."
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"Shes so hot im so gay for me i will let her hit me with hers car"
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"Gorgeous and also still getting arrested at climate protests, which is sexy behavior"
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"Watching her in Barefoot in the Park seriously made me, a straight woman, question things"
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"PLEASE I LOVE HER SO MUCH"
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"Her vibes in these movies are so interesting because she, the daughter of an Old Hollywood star, went on to make both poignant dramatic movies and the some of the silliest things you've ever seen but even in the silly space adventures and sexploitations there's always this undeniable gravitas to her. It's like she's able not to take herself very seriously but at the same time never stops having this grace and elegance and makes it all work together. And she's always been very politically active which is also sexy. Her famous mugshot is from 1970 so right at the cutoff mark but come on"
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Rita Hayworth:
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Do you need any other propaganda? Here’s the video.
youtube
She was not called "the love goddess" for nothing: beautiful, glamorous, despite playing sexy and provocative roles her inherent shyness somehow also would shine through sometimes, creating this contradictory and incredibly attractive image
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Often played "the bad girl" who tempted the male hero away from "the good girl"; but did have roles that broke her out of that mold. She was also the inspiration for Jessica Rabbit. THE pinup girlie.
HELP
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She was soo beautiful when she was young and she MAINTAINED that beauty into her later years and I think that old lady glamour is hot. bombastic sex appeal
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every line she delivers in gilda is so flirty and passionate or absolutely desolate and it's so good
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I just have a lot of feelings about her
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reidmarieprentiss · 2 months
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Ride 'Em Cowgirl
Summary: The team gets a drink in Texas.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: flirty fluff
Warnings/Includes: suggestive conversation (16+), mechanical bull, alcohol
Word count: 1.3K
a/n: this song Cowboy Hat by Jon Pardi was the inspiration lol main masterlist
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The Texas sky was painted in shades of purple and gold as the BAU team wrapped up their latest case. Though exhausted, there was a palpable sense of relief and satisfaction in the air. They had successfully apprehended the suspect, bringing closure to a string of grueling crimes that had cast a shadow over the small town.
As they gathered their things and prepared to head back to the hotel, it became evident that it was too late to catch a flight back home. Derek Morgan, always the one to lighten the mood, threw out a suggestion that caught everyone off guard.
“Why don’t we hit up a local bar and celebrate?” he proposed, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I hear they’ve got some real fun places around here.”
Emily Prentiss, eager for a distraction from the grimness of their work, nodded enthusiastically. “I’m in. We deserve a little break after this one.”
The rest of the team quickly agreed, each of them secretly looking forward to a night of unwinding and laughter. After all, it wasn’t every day they got to relax in a place as unique as this Texas town.
After a quick refresh at their hotel, the team reconvened in the lobby, dressed casually and ready for a night out. The bar they decided on was a rustic establishment just a short walk away, known for its lively atmosphere and local charm.
As they pushed open the wooden doors, the sound of country music greeted them, accompanied by the chatter of locals and the clinking of glasses. The place was alive with energy, and the scent of barbecue and whiskey hung thick in the air.
But what immediately caught their attention was the sight of a mechanical bull in the center of the room, surrounded by a crowd of cheering patrons. It was a quintessentially Texan sight, one that none of them could resist watching.
And there you were, right in the middle of it all, riding the bull with a skill and flair that had everyone in awe. You sat confidently, one hand gripping the handle in front of you while the other held your cowgirl hat securely on your head. Each twist and turn of the bull only seemed to heighten your composure, and the cheers from the crowd grew louder with every second you stayed on.
Spencer Reid, ever the analytical mind, couldn’t help but be impressed by the sheer athleticism and balance you displayed. “That’s incredible,” he muttered, eyes wide with admiration. “There’s a real technique to staying on that long.”
Derek laughed, clapping him on the back. “Maybe you should give it a try, genius,” he teased, knowing full well that Spencer’s idea of fun usually involved a good book rather than mechanical bulls.
Penelope was equally enthralled, “I need to get my phone out and record this,” she said, rummaging through her purse for her camera. “This is going on my Instagram.”
Hotch, with his arms crossed and a rare smile playing on his lips, watched as you expertly maneuvered the bull, your movements smooth and calculated. It was clear you were in control, and the crowd fed off your confidence.
After what felt like an eternity of twists, bucks, and spins, the bull finally slowed to a stop, and you gracefully dismounted, landing on your feet with a flourish. The room erupted into applause, whistles, and cheers, acknowledging the feat you had just accomplished.
You tipped your hat to the crowd, a wide grin on your face as you soaked in the moment. As you made your way toward the bar, you caught the eye of the BAU team, who had been watching with rapt attention.
“That was impressive,” Emily complimented, her eyes shining with admiration. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone stay on that long.”
You chuckled, brushing off the praise with a wave of your hand. “Thanks. It’s all in the hips and balance. But really, it’s just for fun.”
“Fun for you, maybe,” JJ chimed in, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she glanced at you. “But you’ve set a pretty high bar for anyone else thinking of trying it tonight.”
“Come find me later then,” you said, a playful glint in your eye as you winked in JJ’s direction. “Maybe I could give you a few tips.”
JJ laughed, shaking her head. “I might just take you up on that.”
With the ice broken and the atmosphere lifted, the team began to relax and enjoy the evening. Drinks were ordered, and stories from past cases were shared, each tale punctuated with bouts of laughter.
As the night progressed, you noticed a tall, awkwardly charming man with gorgeous brown hair and an endearing presence waiting at the bar. Spencer Reid was nursing a drink, his eyes scanning the room with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.
Intrigued, you decided it was time to make your move.
“Hey there,” you greeted him with a warm smile as you approached, leaning casually against the bar.
Spencer looked up, startled at first but quickly relaxed when he saw your friendly demeanor. “Hi,” he replied, a shy smile spreading across his face. “You were amazing on that bull.”
“Thanks,” you chuckled, “I’ve had a bit of practice. But enough about me, what’s a guy like you doing here in Texas?”
Spencer blushed, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “Just, um, relaxing after work with my friends. We decided to unwind a bit before heading home.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” you said, moving closer, your voice a little more playful. “You know, I’ve always had a thing for guys that look… well, exactly like you.”
His blush deepened, and he fidgeted with the straw in his drink. “Really? I mean, that’s… nice to hear.”
You laughed softly, enjoying his nervous charm. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you reached up, took off your hat, and placed it gently on Spencer’s head, brushing his hair off his forehead as you did so.
“There you go,” you said, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “Looks good on you.”
Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, unsure of what to say as you gave him a friendly nod and turned back to the bar to pay for his drink.
Meanwhile, at the team’s table, eyes were wide and jaws were practically on the floor as they watched the interaction unfold.
“What just happened?” Emily asked, her voice filled with disbelief and amusement.
“I think she just gave him her hat,” Morgan said, shaking his head with a knowing grin. “Spencer, my man, you have no idea what that means, do you?”
Spencer returned to the table, oblivious to the attention he was getting. “What? She just said hi and bought me a drink.”
Rossi leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “Kid, when a woman in a place like this gives you her hat, it’s not just a friendly gesture. It means something else.”
Spencer blinked, confusion written all over his face. “What does it mean?”
“It means, wear the hat, ride the cowgirl,” JJ explained with a teasing smile, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen in realization.
His entire face flushed a deep shade of crimson, his usual composure nowhere to be found. “Oh… oh!”
The team erupted into laughter, thoroughly enjoying Spencer’s flustered reaction.
Spencer turned back to the bar, eyes searching for you. He saw you still standing there, a confident smile on your face as you met his gaze. With a wink, you turned on your heel and walked out of the bar, your sultry strut leaving Spencer speechless and the team in stitches.
Morgan clapped Spencer on the back, still laughing. “Well, Reid, looks like you’ve got yourself a Texas-sized invitation.”
Spencer could only shake his head, his mind racing as he tried to process what had just happened. He sat back down, the hat slightly askew on his head, and took a sip of his drink, still blushing from head to toe.
As the team continued to celebrate and tease him, Spencer couldn’t help but think about the unexpected encounter and the intriguing stranger who had left him with more than just a drink—and a hat.
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redr0sewrites · 8 months
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Adam x Reader General Hcs
HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR HIM HES JUST SO. AUGAHGEHEG. i love him. characterizing him is so fun, but so challenging at the same time.
🥀 Cw: adam being adam, sfw + nsfw hcs, smut, breeding kink
🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion
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sfw:
Adam is more prone to casual flings and hookups, hes def not huge on relationships and longterm partners
this means that if your with him, you must be pretty special bc hes a huge ass handful
while he is a pretty big douche, adam is definitely loyal imo
deep down, hes still pretty insecure about both lilith and eve, and im a firm believer that he would never cheat on a partner if he was in a serious relationship
adam comes up with very.... interesting nicknames for you that are 10x more vulgar than the ones he uses for everyone else
hes HUGE on nicknames and petnames in general, at the start of a relationship theyre pretty crude and flirty but over time they start to become sweeter
sugartits, doll, sweet cheeks, bitch boy/babe, babycakes, BAE, lemondrop (idk it just fits), mama/mami, honeytits, honestly anything that comes to mind
adam likes to put "my" in front of most of your petnames, its not so much in a possessive way, moreso in a bragging way, he just loves telling the world that your HIS
he also definitely calls you bro, brah, dude, etc he doesn't care that it "doesnt sound romantic" 💀
adam finds the MOST unhinged things hilarious, hes the type to watch those ten hour long youtube videos of a spinning potato chip and laugh every ten seconds
speaking of, he has one of those loud, booming laughs with a slight wheeze to it
"BAAHAHAHAHAH BAE COME HERE LOOK AT THIS HAHA" and its just a low quality video of a water bottle falling over???
100% a shitty pickup line user
and also a shitty flirter in general
his flirting is just
obnoxious
adam is very proud of you, when the two of you officially got together he probably called half of heaven to announce that you two were dating
"THATS MY PARTNER‼️‼️‼️" type of vibes
adam acts like he isnt big on cuddles bit is secretly the clingiest, most touch starved person alive
PLEASE let him hold you, this man is tall af and loves just swallowing you in an embrace
when he was "courting" you (irritating you constantly and flirting with you obnoxiously until you caught on that he was serious) the biggest tell that his feelings were genuine was the amount of physical contact he initiated
adam was always leaning on you, throwing an arm over your shoulder, resting a hand on your thigh, hooking his arm through yours, overall invading your personal space
he was incredibly happy to FINALLY be able to cuddle with you when you both got together, and HAS to fall asleep touching you in some way every night
adam is almost always wearing his exterminator helmet, but he really likes it when you take it off for him at the end of the day. even he doesn't really understand why, but there's something so intimate to him about the fact that you love his real face more than the persona he puts on
he would rather die than admit it tho
hes not good at words or communication in general, and prefers to express his appreciation through actions
he brings you foods that he knows you like on days where you're especially busy, he gives you song recommendations that he'll think you'll like, he'll buy you a trinket he saw you eyeing at the store, just tiny things like that
adam genuinely does care about you, but as per his usual adam-ness, he would rather go bald than live up to that 💀
nsfw:
you cant tell me this man isnt kinky as shit
hes tried pretty much everything
HE LOVES TO HIT FROM THE BACK, DEF LIKES DOGGY STYLE
i also think he would like the mating press too, getting to watch your face as he wrecks you while also having the opportunity to leave bites all over your thighs, and feel them tremble as he fucks you? sign him up!
his dick is big big
i think hed be a little thicker than average, with a few veins running up the underside, but its his length that's downright heavenly
adam keeps himself pretty well groomed, but has a prominent happy trail and light fuzz at the very base of his cock
listen, this is the first man we're talking about, he KNOWS what hes doing
whether you're male or female, he will go down on you
once he buries himself between your thighs youre done for, adam barely comes up for air as he devours you
hes def sloppy w it too, loves when you cum on his face so he can lick it up
enjoys it when you return the favor as well, i actually think hed really realy like receiving head
would def fuck your face until your drooling
if you hve an oral fixation, you're in luck bc he LOVES watching you suck his dick, his fingers, anything really
adam always makes you lick and suck his fingers before fingering you, and will sometimes trigger your gag reflex by shoving them down your throat to watch you gasp and whine
adam has STAMINA, expect to stay up all night bc this man will stop at nothing to make sure you're both satisfied
i swear this man is built to breed, he has a HUGE breeding kink and goes crazy at the sight of his cum dripping from your hole. even if it's physically impossible for you to get pregnant, adam still babbles about "fucking a prety little babe" into you when he cums
adam likes using plugs to make sure his cum stays inside you, he'll also finger it back inside and loves smearing his cum on your thighs and ass
he also brings his fingers up to your face and has you lick the cum off of them
LOOOVEEEESSS marking you, by the end of the night youre always covered in bruises and scratches and hickeys galore
i love adam guys yes ik hes a douche but hes my douche <3
i wish i characterized him better but whateverrrrrr i dont want to write him as a total asshole but hes def not an angel either (haha im so funny💀)
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scarlet-bitch · 1 month
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You'd Have to Stop the World...
11.5k words, FWB Eddie X afab!reader, 18+ Explicit Content - MDNI, use of "baby" as a nickname, no use of y/n, little to no description of reader, set in Hawkins 1990 so everyone's aged up accordingly, no mention of upside down - could sorta be canon if you pretend vecna was defeated and eddie never got attacked by the bats but reader wouldn't know it ever existed. * fair amount of smut in this especially the beginning - it's a fwb plot so... but yes, there is plot. lots of angst and some fluff*
a/n: most of my ideas are usually inspired by a song - the concept for this came entirely through a playlist I made, so l added the track list! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading and as always, I hope you enjoy! xo, scarlet 💋
Struggling through a dry spell, an ideas comes to you when your attractive friend Eddie vents about his recent disappointing hookups. What starts as casual fun gradually complicates as physical and emotional boundaries begin to blur.
“I keep recalling things we never did / Messy top lip kiss / How I long for our trysts / Without ever touching his skin / How can I be guilty as sin?”
A few years ago, you met Eddie Munson, thanks to an introduction from your then coworkers, Robin and Steve. What began as a casual acquaintance in a larger group quickly evolved into a genuine friendship.
But as with many great friendships, a new romance - this time with Matt - changed the dynamics. As your relationship with Matt grew, so did the distance between you and Eddie. Matt didn’t like him, his dislike fueled by a few key grievances: he accused Eddie of overcharging for weed, could barely tolerate Eddie’s metal music - and was visibly irritated by the number of times you dragged him to Eddie’s shows. Yet, beneath it all, Matt’s discomfort had a more personal edge. He was convinced there was something more to your friendship, despite your insistence on its platonic nature.
“Okay, sure, whatever you say,” Matt insisted, his tone dripping with frustration. “But I’m telling you, he definitely wants to fuck you.”
Matt’s reasoning included:
• “He never makes you pay for weed.” 
⁃ Ah, the classic move of the charming drug dealer - Robin and Steve are also lucky recipients of Eddie's personal stash. Generosity? Sure. A sign of deeper feelings? Unlikely. 
• “He flirts with you.”
⁃ Eddie flirts with everyone. This isn’t a private act of seduction - it’s his default setting. And sure, before you dated Matt maybe you’d indulge in Eddie’s flirty nature but it was just all in good fun. 
• "He call's you - Baby." 
⁃ The nickname was not some romantic gesture, Eddie's just a menace. It all started after a shift at Family Video, you and Robin went back to Steve's house. Eddie made an entrance, a blunt was passed, and you started rambling about the ridiculousness of the name "Baby" in Dirty Dancing. "You know, it's funny you hate it because 'Baby' suits you perfectly," Eddie quipped. You shot him a look of annoyance, but Eddie, with that trademark grin, decided it was a keeper and has called you it ever since. 
• “The way he fucking looks at you.” 
⁃ This is where the plot thickens. While the other signs are easily explained, you didn't quite see what Matt was ever referring to. 
Yet, every time Matt voiced his theories, your mind couldn’t help but drift to thoughts of Eddie in bed. He had quite the reputation as a good fuck and it was undeniable that he was incredibly attractive. But the guilt of entertaining these thoughts, especially while with Matt, was crushing. So, you shoved them aside.
In December of '89, Matt accepted a job that meant relocating out of state. By then, your relationship had lost its spark, of course, except for the one area where it still managed to flicker - the bedroom. You both knew it was time to let go, the idea of a long distance romance wasn't practical when the only thing holding you together required physical proximity you would no longer share.
Despite it being the obvious choice - the end of nearly two years together was tough, but as the saying goes, when one door closes, another opens. With Matt no longer in the picture, your calendar quickly filled with late nights and laughter, surrounded by Robin, Steve, Eddie, and your ever expanding social circle. It was the start of a new era, as you entered the new decade. 
"These fatal fantasies / Giving way to labored breath / Taking all of me / We've already done it in my head / If it's make believe / Why does it feel like a vow / We'll both uphold somehow?"
Four months into being single, and the dry spell was becoming a cruel joke. Every date you'd been on had left much to be desired, as none of them ever ended with you on your back. Ultimately a waste of your time. 
It was an added frustration to be out with Eddie and watch him glide from one partner to the next with such ease. You even found yourself feeling a bit envious of his conquests, because the more time you began spending with him, the more you understood why Matt had his suspicions. 
On quite a few occasions, you caught Eddie's gaze lingering on you. The stolen glances and charged looks sent your heart racing. Gone were the days of pushing these thoughts away. Now, you found yourself indulging in them, late at night, hand between your thighs, wondering if the fantasies might ever become reality. 
“Don’t play dumb, I know you fantasize. You could have me on my back every night.”
One night, after having your friends over for dinner, Eddie decided to stay and chill after Robin and Steve had left. He sprawled on your couch, legs draped over the coffee table, grumbling about the monotony of his recent casual encounters and the lack of sexual chemistry he'd been experiencing.
Eddie looked at you, cutting himself off mid rant, his fingers deftly rolling a blunt. "It's cool if I smoke in here, right? Or d'ya want me to go on the balcony?" 
You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I don't usually love it, but why not for tonight?"
With a grin, Eddie continued on his ranting as he finished rolling. Lighting the blunt and taking a long drag when he finished his complaint. 
"Okay, but bad sex is more often than not, still enjoyable," you said, in response to his last comment. 
Eddie held out the blunt offering you to take a hit and while normally you’re pretty weary to cross fade, you were feeling adventurous as you grabbed it from his fingers taking a hit. 
"I get what you're saying, but nothing's been like, mind-blowing. I was getting head the other day, and I was literally counting the minutes until it was over. I think it would've been more enjoyable if I'd just taken care of myself." 
You let out a laugh, the smoke escaping in a light cloud. "You think counting maybe prolonged the experience a bit, bud?" Passing the blunt back to Eddie. 
"No, baby, the counting's what got me there." He smirked before taking another hit. 
You rolled your eyes playfully, but his words sparked thoughts of your own dissatisfaction.
The two of you sat there listening to the soft sounds of The Cure album you had on, as you took turns with the blunt. Eddie's gaze didn't leave you, his eyes focused on your lips - the movements of your mouth. The subtle way your lips parted and closed around the blunt had him entranced. 
You were too lost in your own thoughts to notice his staring. "I think this is one of those grass is greener situations. l'd take the bad sex. There's only so much I can satisfy myself, and sometimes I- well, I just want to get railed." The words slipped out before you could fully think them through but as soon as they did, you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks.
Eddie's eyes widened slightly, a blush of his own creeping onto his face as he exhaled smoke. "Oh sure." You'd always been open about discussing sex, but this was a new level of candor for you and it caught him by surprise. It also made his cock twitch.  
You weren't sure what it was - the alcohol, the pot, the adrenaline from your embarrassment, - but Eddie's complaints mixed with your own dissatisfaction sparked an idea. You set your wine glass down, turned to face him, and criss-crossed your legs on the couch.
Passing what was left of the blunt back, you asked the question that's been on your mind for weeks.
”Eddie… are you attracted to me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.
"What?" He asked as he put the blunt out.
"Eddie," you pressed. 
He chuckled, the sound a bit shaky. "Everyone thinks you're pretty, you know that."
"That's not what I asked," you countered. "I'm asking if you think I'm like, hot - not just pretty."
A smirk played on Eddie's lips as his eyes scanned over your figure, nodding. “Yeah, you’re hot,” he said, taking a sip of his beer and letting his eyes linger on how the soft fabric of your clothes hugged your chest. Truth be told, he thought you were fucking heaven sent. 
"So why haven't you made a move? I've been single for months." 
"You know me, baby. No attachments. Couldn't have you falling in love with me."
You scoffed. "Really, that's your excuse?"
His gaze met yours, a touch of defensiveness in his eyes. "It's not an excuse. It's just how I am. I don't hook up with friends, it can get messy." 
"Got it," you replied, considering letting it go, but curiosity had taken hold. "Do you ever fantasize about them, though?”
A wry smile appeared on his lips. "Depends on the friend, I guess.”
"Cut the shit, Munson.”
His smile grew. "Alright, yeah. A lot more than I probably should have.”
You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "If it's any consolation, I've fantasized about you a fair bit too.”
"Oh, yeah?" he breathed, his voice huskier than before.
"Mmm-hmm." You shook your head slowly, maintaining eye contact. You noticed the way Eddie's eyes darted down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. 
"What about?" he asked.
"I could tell you," you whispered, "or I could show you.”
Eddie's laughter was shaky as he looked away, running his hand through his hair. "Tempting," he whispered, leaning back and trying to create some distance. His arousal, however, was unmistakable. 
The room fell silent. You could see the inner conflict in his eyes: the struggle between desire and his self imposed boundaries. The sight of Eddie's hard cock straining against his jeans had your pulse quickening more than the conversation had. You felt yourself growing wet, the heat between your thighs demanding attention.
"So even though it's clear we both want this, you're willing to just let it go because of some vague principle?" you asked, frustration tinging your voice.
Eddie's expression grew serious. "I wouldn't want to complicate our friendship just to get off.”
"And if I promised you it wouldn't complicate anything, that nothing would have to change - it would just be a good time?”
His breath hitched at your words, his eyes soaking in your presence. "Then... maybe I’d rethink some things."
You sighed, acknowledging his hesitation but also feeling the urgency of your own desire whether Eddie joined you or not.
“Well, you think about that,” you said, standing up and heading toward your bedroom. “You’re welcome to join me if you decide you’re in. If you decide to leave, the spare key is by the door. Just lock up and I’ll get it next time.” You closed the door behind you
Eddie sat on the couch contemplating for all of 5 minutes before his decision was made. Of course he wasn't going to let this moment pass him by. He stood up, his mind racing as he walked toward your room.   
When Eddie opened the door, he found you lying in bed, bathed in the amber glow of your lamp, only in your panties. You were lost in your own pleasure, hand moving beneath the fabric, eyes closed tight as breathy moans escaped your lips. 
"Fuck," Eddie muttered under his breath, his gaze locked on the scene before him. He froze, taking in every detail. The gentle, desperate movements of your fingers, the soft sway of your breasts, and the way your lips formed an O with every soft whimper. He was mesmerized.
He moved closer, cautious not to disrupt the moment. You whispered his name, soft and needy. "Eddie..."
The sound of your voice, so vulnerable and inviting, was nearly enough to push him over the edge. He groaned, a deep, guttural sound that came from the very core of his being. As he stood at the end of the bed, your eyes fluttered open, taking in his presence.
You kept your eyes locked on him, focusing on his face, the way his gaze was fixed on you.
Looking at you like this, made him feel as if he was witnessing the eighth wonder of the world. "What are you thinking of?" Eddie asked, needing to understand what was driving you.
"That this is your hand instead of mine, just like l've been imagining for weeks," you admitted, voice trembling slightly.
Eddie's breath hitched. "Can I see all of you?" he asked, desperation lacing his voice as he sat on the edge of the bed. 
You nodded, slowly sliding your panties down your legs and tossing them aside, revealing your glistening cunt. You returned your hand, teasing yourself gently. Eddie's eyes were fixed on you, the sight almost too much for him to bear, a low whimper escaping his lips.
"How would you touch me, if it were your fingers?" you asked, voice a seductive whisper.
Eddie slid up from his spot on the edge of the bed, closer to your side, as he began directing you on how he would pleasure you, eyes glued to your movements. "I'd start by gently tracing my fingers, just like you are now."
You whimpered as he continued his instructions, caught between the fantasy he was describing and the reality of your own touch. His guidance was driving you wild, but the need for his direct touch was growing unbearable. Breathlessly, you said, "Eddie, please."
“Tell me what you need,” he rasped, his eyes locked on yours. 
“Touch me,” you pleaded.
Eddie knew what you meant; you wanted him to replace your fingers - but he needed to kiss you and at the vague request for his touch he couldn't help but use that as his cue. He leaned in, his body hovering over yours, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was rough, and raw as if years of restrained longing were unleashed in that heated moment. His lips were demanding, his tongue wrestled with yours, the taste of beer mixing with moscato. You bit his lip and Eddie’s groan was deep. 
His free hand found its way to your thigh, gripping it tightly, driving you further into your own touch. The intensity of his actions only heightened your pleasure. You gasped into his mouth as your climax hit. Eddie’s grip on your thigh never letting up as you clung to him, struggling to steady yourself through your orgasm. 
As the waves began to subside, you whispered raggedly, “I need you.”
Eddie trailed his hand from your thigh to your cunt, only for you to stop his hand. “No. I need more, I need you inside of me. Now.” 
Eddie groaned at your desperate plea for him to fill you. Without a word, he began undressing. His breathing was labored as he quickly removed his shirt, tossing it aside. He fumbled with his jeans, eager and clumsy in his haste to free his hard cock. When he finally did, you let out an audible gasp, taking in the sight of him. He was so fucking perfect.
“How do you want it, baby?” He asked, eager to give you anything you’d ask for. 
“What have you fantasized about?”
Eddie hesitated, “We don’t have to -”
“Tell me,” you demanded. 
“You, um, you’ve got great tits,” he all about moaned. “I think about you riding me a lot.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before you pushed him back to lean against the pillows, a sly smile on your lips. You reached for a condom from the nightstand, tearing open the wrapper with a quick, practiced motion, and rolled it over his throbbing cock. Eddie’s eyes followed your every move, sighing at your touch. 
With a deep, steadying breath, you positioned yourself above him. Your hands rested on the headboard while his hands gripped your thighs, his fingers digging in as he watched you. Slowly, you began to lower yourself, the initial contact making both of you gasp. The incredible stretch of his cock stung as you lowered yourself down inch by inch. It was almost overwhelming, but so perfectly pleasurable. Eddie’s eyes widened, his breath coming in quick, ragged bursts. 
“Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth. His hands tightened on your thighs, reminding you just how much he wants this.
You continued to sink down, savoring the sensation of being filled. Once fully seated, you paused to adjust, getting accustomed to his size. Eddie wasn’t the longest you’d ever had, but by no means was he small. Close to 7 inches if you had to guess. He was however, the thickest not by an absurd amount but enough to notice the  difference. He felt phenomenal. 
You began to move, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down. The room began filling with the sound of your mingled moans. As you established a steady rhythm, Eddie’s moans grew more frequent, his grip sure to leave bruises. “Fuuuuuck,” he repeated, his voice rough with pleasure.
You shifted from leaning forward to putting your full weight on him, arching your back slightly as you moved your hands from the headboard to behind you, resting them on his thighs. In this position, you had better control and began to increase your pace.
“Aghh - just like that,” Eddie groaned. “Show me how much you want it." Eddie’s eyes were locked on you, taking in every detail - the bounce of your breasts, the flush on your cheeks, the intense pleasure on your face. You looked stunning.
He moved his hands to your breasts, groaning as he squeezed them gently. He adjusted himself so he was sitting up, his hands moving to roam over the rest of your body as he began kissing your skin. He started at your collarbone and moved along your chest until he reached your left breast. Kissing and nipping at the soft skin before enveloping your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. You shuddered at the added stimulation, moving to rest your hands on his shoulder for better stability as he moved his mouth to your right nipple. 
You were finding it hard to keep quiet, biting your lip to stifle your moans as the combination of his mouth and the fullness of his cock drove you closer to ecstasy.
Eddie, however, was having none of that. Removing his mouth from you chest, “Don’t hold back," he rasped. "Let the whole fucking building know how good it feels to have my cock inside you.”
You let yourself moan freely, the sounds echoing in the room as you quickened your pace.
"Ooooohhh god,” you cried out as your orgasm began to build. 
You swirled your hips, adding a tantalizing motion that made Eddie mumble curses of pleasure. His hands moved to your hips, gripping firmly as he reclined against the pillows. You leaned forward with him, placing your arms on his chest for support as you rode him with increased intensity.
“Such a good girl,” Eddie said in awe, his eyes locked on you as you chased your orgasm. The praise spurred you on, and you let out a loud cry. Eddie’s lips curled into a wry smile as he watched you, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you.
“You like that, huh?” he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
You whimpered a feeble “yes,” your voice barely audible as you tried to keep up with the intense pleasure.
“Thought you might,” he chuckled. “Be the good girl that you are and cum for me,” Eddie instructed.
That was all it took. Your hips began to falter as your orgasm ripped through you, sending your body into a shuddering climax. Eddie’s groans of satisfaction grew louder as he watched you come undone on top of him. He gripped your hips tightly, taking over control and thrusting into you with a fierce rhythm, pushing you seamlessly into another orgasm.
As you came down, your body collapsed against Eddie's, still trembling from the aftermath of your third orgasm. Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, the intensity of the pleasure overwhelming you. Eddie, sensing your exhaustion, slowed his thrusts, his hands gently tangling in your hair as he lifted your face to look at him.
“Shit Eds” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I can come again.” 
Eddie’s lips curled into a mischievous smile, his eyes gleaming with determination. “Sure you can, baby. You haven’t even gotten what you wanted yet,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before repositioning you both.
The sudden loss of him inside you made you whimper, the emptiness leaving you desperate to be filled again. Eddie lifted you, placing you on your knees, and then knelt behind you. His hands took hold of your hips, and he lined himself up with your entrance before thrusting into you with a forceful, deep motion. The immediate fullness made you moan, the new position allowing him to penetrate you more deeply and hit your g-spot perfectly with every thrust.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” you cried out, your voice raw with pleasure as he continued to thrust into you with a relentless rhythm.
“This is what you wanted, right baby? To get railed?” Eddie asked, his voice a deep, gravelly whisper. His hands squeezed the flesh of your ass as he drove into you.
“Yes!” you cried out. “Please Eddie, harder,” tears streaming down your face.  He responded by pounding into you just as you asked. 
Leaning forward, Eddie kissed the skin along your back, his teeth grazing your flesh with gentle bites, adding another layer of sensation. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles white from the strain, as desperate cries of pleasure fell from your lips. His left hand slipped between your legs, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it frantically.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop,” you moaned, your voice trembling with need. Eddie’s fingers worked your clit with determined precision, the added stimulation making it clear you were about to lose it.
As the pleasure built to its peak, you screamed his name, your body shaking uncontrollably as you came. Eddie’s grip on you tightened, his thrusts never faltering as he felt you clenching around him.
“There it is,” he moaned, his voice filled with satisfaction as he felt you coming undone. Your mascara ran down your cheeks in streaks, merging with your tears as you reached the height of your pleasure. Eddie continued to pound into you as your orgasm subsided, savoring the way you responded to him.
He was relentless, driven by his own need to reach his climax. He removed his hand from your clit,  gripping your hips firmly as he thrusted into you with increased force. “I want you to cum with me,” he growled.
You cried out, your voice filled with desperation. "I-I ahhh..." Your words were swallowed by your moans as Eddie kept thrusting. 
"You can do it," he encouraged, his voice low and steady. "I know you can."
Eddie's thrusts grew more intense, his rhythm never faltering as he drove you toward another climax. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his own breath coming in ragged bursts as he neared his release.
"Atta girl," Eddie growled. His thrusts grew sloppy, driven by the raw intensity of the moment. You clenched around him, surrendering to the pleasure as euphoria washed over you. The sensation was all -consuming, a final, powerful climax that left you gasping.
Eddie's own climax hit hard. He let out a string of moans, his body shuddering as it hit. His thrusts became erratic, his grip on your ass tightening as he rode out his release.
Eddie collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily, basking in the afterglow. The intensity of the night had left you feeling dizzy and euphoric, your body still tingling from multiple orgasms - five mind blowing orgasms, to be exact. The most you’d ever had with a partner before was three - and while still sensational it was nothing compared to this. Making it clear that Eddie Munson was the best fuck you’ve ever had.
As you started to come down, you glanced over at Eddie. He was staring at the ceiling, his face a mix of disbelief and deep thought. "Eddie, what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
"Can I level with you?" he asked, his voice serious.
"Of course," you replied.
"It's pretty obvious that what we just had was too good to be a one-off," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "And it's not going to be easy to just go back like this never happened. I mean, I can't just pretend I don't know you've got a praise kink." He teased. 
"Eddie!" You laughed, giving him a playful nudge.
"I'm only half kidding. I clocked that shit when I tried to teach you guitar, this just confirmed it," he admitted with a grin.
You rolled your eyes, a smirk on your lips. “So, what's your point?"
He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow and looking at you seriously. “If you can handle keeping it casual, I think we should do this again.”
“Fucking hell, Munson didn't we address this on the couch? I wanted to fuck you, I'm not in love."
Eddie laughed. “Right, I know. But sometimes it can lead to that, and I just want to make sure you understand if we continue to hook up it will never be anything but physical. I can never offer you more, is that clear?" 
You grinned. “Crystal."
"So, friends with benefits?” He asked. 
You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as your eyes locked with his. 
"It's a Sexually Explicit Kind of Love Affair" 
Two months had passed since you and Eddie established your friends-with-benefits arrangement, and you had both adhered to a set of rules: open communication, no exclusivity, and keeping things private. Your frequent hookups had become a thrilling part of your routine, each encounter more intense than the last, and quite a few that were unforgettable. 
Fucked You in the Bathroom When We Went to Dinner:  The two of you went to dinner with your friends to celebrate Vicky’s birthday. Amid the celebrations, you and Eddie shared knowing glances across the table and when the opportunity arose, you both slipped away, heading towards the restaurant's bathroom.
As soon as the door closed behind you, Eddie's hands were on you, pulling you close. He pressed your back against the wall, as his lips found yours in a rough kiss. His mouth began trailing along your jaw as you you reached down to unbuckle his belt. Eddie's pants were down around his knees, his hands hiking your dress up, growling when he saw you had no panties on. You lifted your leg, resting it on the sink, back still pressed to the wall as Eddie wasted no time before guiding himself into you. Your hands immediately threading through his hair as he sunk in. 
Eddie's thrusts were urgent and desperate. "Fuck, can’t get enough of you," Eddie gasped, his breath hot against your neck. 
You could only respond with a series of breathless moans. The pleasure building rapidly as Eddie's movements grew more intense. His hands gripped your hips firmly,  holding you in place as he drove into you. 
Your climax was approaching quickly, and you couldn't help but let out shrieks of pleasure. Eddie's hand reluctantly coming to cover your mouth to stifle the sounds. He loved hearing you, but not here. 
“Shh, baby. I know." He whispered feeling you beginning to clench around him. You bit the palm of his hand to stop the scream that was desperate to escape you as your climax hit. His thrusts growing erratic as he came with you, burying his face in your neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.
As you both caught your breath, you quickly adjusted your clothes, and you fixed Eddie's hair. You walked out first heading back to the table. Eddie arrived a few minutes later, drink in his hand as if he had been at bar the whole time, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he sat down.  
Knee Deep in the Passenger Seat: It'd been a lively evening out at the bar playing pool with Chrissy, Eddie and his bandmates. You were keenly aware of the effect your outfit was having on Eddie as you'd chosen a particularly short skirt that barely covered your lacy black panties if you moved too much. So each time you bent over to take a shot, your underwear was tantalizingly visible. 
As you lined up for another shot, Eddie approached, leaning in close.  To any onlookers it would seem like he was giving you a tip to make your shot. "You're such a fucking tease," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.
You turned your head slightly, catching his eye with a sly grin. "I know, but you love it," you whispered back. 
Eddie's gaze was fixed on you as he walked back to his spot against the wall. As you knelt over the table to take your shot, a smirk tugged at your lips knowing he was clearly struggling to focus on anything other than the view you were providing. 
If Eddie could have had his way, he would have sunk to his knees right there and ate you out while you were bent over that pool table. But patience is a virtue. 
As you turned to face him after landing your shot, you knew he was trying to maintain his composure.
When it was time to leave, Eddie offered to take you home.  "Chris, I’ve got her. I pass her apartment on my way home anyway.” While that was true, you knew that wasn't his plan.
As you walked out, Eddie's eyes never left you, his gaze focused on the way your hips swayed with each step. When you reached the van, he opened the passenger door for you and you slid into the seat, feeling his intense gaze on you. 
As you settled in your seat, you looked at Eddie who was still standing next to you. A sly grin pulling at his lips, as he stepped in. You were confused until he knelt down on the floor in front of you, shutting the door. His expression one of eagerness.
With his hands now gripping your thighs, he pushed your skirt up, his fingers brushing against your skin. "I've been wanting to taste you all fucking night," he hummed, his voice low and filled with need. 
You looked down at him, a teasing smirk on your lips. "Aw look at you, did I tease you so much that you can't even wait?"
Eddie’s big doe eyes, looked a lot less innocent in this position, darkening at your words. Hunger written all over his face. 
In an instant he pulled your panties to the side, leaning forward so his head was nestled between your thighs. His tongue making contact with your bare slit, with a tantalizing slow lick. You gasped at the feeling. Eddie moaned against your pussy, "You taste so goddamn good,” his voice vibrating through your core. 
The moment his tongue touched your clit, he was relentless, alternating between licking and sucking. Your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he savored you. 
Within just a few short minutes you were a moaning mess, hands tangled in his hair, breath ragged, eyes screwed tight as you could feel yourself on the brink of your orgasm. Then suddenly, Eddie pulled away. Your release immediately ripped away from you. 
His face flushed and glistening with your essence, looked up at you with a smirk. “Look at that, I can be just as much of a tease as you," he rasped.
You whined at the loss of contact. "Please, Eddie.” 
“You’ll have to wait, baby.” He said, readjusting your underwear and skirt, wiping his mouth as he dipped out of the van and walked to the drivers side.
Truth be told, this was just as upsetting for him as it was for you. You were intoxicating and if he was being honest he’d love nothing more than to continue to devour your sweet cunt until you came all over his tongue - multiple times. But he thought it only fair that you feel the same strain that he had all night. He’d make it worth the wait when he got you to his trailer. 
You're on your knees, I'm on the case: You had the day off, so what better way than to spend it in Eddie's bed. When you arrived at his trailer, he answered the door shirtless, wearing only boxers with a towel draped over his shoulder.
"I'm about to shower," Eddie said, ushering you inside and closing the door behind you. "I'll be out soon. Feel free to watch TV, the remote's on the table."
As Eddie went to shower, you settled on his couch, finishing up the episode of Seinfeld that was on. After about ten minutes, you began to get restless.
You could hear the shower running, steam cascading into the hall because Eddie didn't shut the door completely. You made your way to the bathroom, knocking on the door to let him know you were there as you walked in. 
"Be out in a second, just gotta rinse my hair."
"Mind if I join ya instead?" 
There was a brief pause before he responded, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Sure, come on in."
You quickly undressed and slipped into the shower the steam enveloping you. You were facing Eddie as the water was cascading down his hair. Some droplets hitting your body, as Eddie glanced over you with a grin. 
You gave him a playful smirk before immediately dropping to your knees, positioning yourself in front of his hardening cock. Eddie's eyes locked onto you, filled with anticipation.
Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, the warmth of the water mingling with the heat of your breath. Eddie's response was immediate. His breath hitched, at the feeling. "Ahhh," he grunted, his voice thick with pleasure. 
You began to move, sliding your lips up and down his length with practiced ease. Eddie's hands gripped the shower bar for support, his fingers tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure.
"Holy Shit," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "You're so good, that feels so fucking good." 
You continued your rhythm, your mouth and tongue working him expertly. Eddie's groans grew louder, the pleasure clearly overwhelming him. "Oh god, yes," he panted, his hips thrusting gently to match your movements. 
The water continued to cascade around you both, mingling with the sounds of Eddie's pleasure as you pushed him closer to the edge. "Don't stop, baby" he urged, his voice breaking. "I'm gonna cum."
With a final, deep stroke, Eddie came hard. You kept your mouth on him, sucking every drop as he moaned and gasped, his hands gripping the shower wall for dear life bracing himself.
His face was flushed, a mix of steam and sweat glistening on his skin. He looked down at you with awe and satisfaction. "You're fucking amazing," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
You stood up, and Eddie cupped your face, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. As your mouths moved together ,his cock began hardening again, ready for round two in his room.
"I know, "Baby, No Attachment!"
As the months passed the frequency of your encounters with Eddie had evolved beyond merely getting off. At first you considered that it was just your friendship deepening, but as time went on, you couldn't help but feel that these interactions between you were teetering the line of something more. 
Eddie's band practices had effortlessly blended into your weekly routine. “Want to come to practice again?” he’d ask, flashing a grin. The first time he invited you, you joked about whether he had a fantasy of hooking up in Gareth’s garage or something. Eddie only laughed and said, “Nah, I just figured you might enjoy hearing us play and I thought it’d be nice to have you there.” Of course you went, and enjoyed every second of it, maybe even more than the shows. Seeing Eddie perform offstage, goof around with his bandmates, and brainstorm new arrangements was incredibly fun to witness.
By the third week into attending practice, Eddie offered another invitation. “Want to come with me to visit Wayne this Sunday?” he asked one afternoon. You hadn’t seen Wayne since he left Eddie the trailer, and although the invite surprised you, you agreed. Wayne’s warm hospitality was a delight, and seeing Eddie with his uncle gave you a new insight into his life - it felt special he shared it with you. 
You began noticing more changes in your own habits. Instead of going to social events alone, you often opted to ride with Eddie. Your weekend hookups had bloomed into near everyday occurrences, leading you to spend a lot more time at his trailer, as it offered much more privacy than your apartment - Eddie and you were rather loud. Eddie's loud anyway, but when he's inside you he doesn't shut up. Always talking you through it, telling you how good you're making him feel and he loves hearing what he does to you, so you never hold back. 
On more than a few occasions you’d accidentally fallen asleep over there, and eventually Eddie just began inviting you to stay the night in the first place. Gradually, your personal items like a toothbrush, a few changes of clothes, and your favorite books made their way over. You were there so often that it was shifting from a convenient arrangement to something that felt more like a shared space.
The boundaries you’d set were being tested, and it was becoming harder to maintain the pretense that this was purely physical. The line between attraction and emotional connection was blurring, and although Eddie had always insisted that this arrangement was meant to stay casual, his actions seemed to contradict that. In those soft moments with him, at practice or Wayne's, or when you were lying in his bed wrapped up in his arms after another incredible fuck, you found yourself dreaming of more and every time you did you'd think back to Matt's insistence that there was something between you and Eddie. Back then you thought it was Matt's jealously, eventually giving way that it was underlying attraction but now like this you can't help but think maybe there has always been more simmering between you both. 
You didn't dare say it though, you wanted to remain the “chill girl” who didn’t push. But the more time that passed the more you felt caught between holding your tongue and addressing the growing complexity of the situation.  
"It's fine, it's cool, you can say that we're nothing but you know the truth." 
The summer heat was beginning to wane as you and Eddie arrived at Steve’s Labor Day party. 
You were enjoying yourself, chatting with Nancy when you overheard a conversation nearby. Eddie was talking to Chrissy, who had just referred to you and he as a couple. 
“Oh, no, we’re not together,” Eddie said, a dismissive edge in his voice as he responded. The words hit you like a slap. You knew what you had signed up for, but it still stung, especially when the lines had been blurring for months. 
You attempted to shake it off, focusing on the friends around you. However, as the evening wore on, the frustration you felt was hard to ignore. Eddie’s behavior had been increasingly confusing. And this comment felt like the final straw - if your friends could see it, why couldn't he? 
When the party ended, Eddie drove you back to his trailer with Metallica blasting through the speakers. The music did little to ease the anger you were feeling. 
Once inside the trailer, Eddie reached out his hands gripping your waist, as his lips found yours. The kiss felt good, almost intoxicating, but your anger quickly reclaimed its hold as the words "we're not together" echoed in your mind.
You pulled back, needing a moment to regain your composure. Eddie’s eyes searched yours, confusion in his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked softly.
"I'm not really feeling it right now,” you said firmly, pulling away from his touch. "I think I'm going to head home actually." 
Eddie’s face fell for a moment before a small smile played at his lips. "You don't need to go, stay the night. We can watch a movie."
A few months ago, this invitation would have felt like a friendly gesture. After all, the beauty of a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement is that it starts with a foundation of friendship. But tonight it was just a bitter reminder of how these nights have morphed into something much more complex. At the start of your arrangement, movie nights often transitioned from watching the film to fucking until the credits rolled. This felt natural, expected. But now the dynamic of movie nights has grown significantly more intimate; cuddling on the couch, Eddie softly playing with your hair, and gentle kisses between scenes. All gestures that are only typical in, well - relationships. You've had enough. 
"Eddie, are you being avoidant or are you truly oblivious to what's going on?" 
Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?"
"Us. This," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "It feels different, and it has for a while now." You took a deep breath, struggling to steady your voice. "Eddie, even our friends notice it."
"This is about Chrissy's comment?" he asked, annoyance seeping into his voice.
"You were so quick to dismiss it."
"We're not a couple, so that probably has something to do with it," he said, with a laugh, his irritation evident. "What was I supposed to say?"
You gave him a short nod, as you began to gather your things. "It's not even about what you said, it's about what you're not saying." 
The frustration was evident on Eddie's face. "I thought we were both on the same page about this," he said, following you.
"Dammit, Eddie," you turned towards him, your voice rising. "We were, but it’s hard to feel like we’re still casual when my favorite bra lives in your dresser!"
Eddie’s expression shifted, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, but he still held his ground. "From the start, I told you I don’t do relationships. I never promised you anything more than what we agreed on."
You scoffed. “I know, and that’s exactly why I’ve kept my mouth shut for so long. But you’ve pulled me into every aspect of your life, and it’s not the same anymore. If you weren’t so hung up on that concept, maybe you’d admit what you’re feeling.”
“Don’t," he said sternly. "Don't try and make me out to be the bad guy because you couldn't keep your own feelings in check.”
His words felt like a punch in your gut. You could feel the lump take perch in throat, trying to swallow it back but the tears were coming. 
Eddie’s expression softened as he noticed your your eyes glistening. He watched helplessly as you continued to pack, his frustration morphing into anguish as tears streamed down your face. "Wait,” he pleaded. "Let's talk, we can take a step back."
Your hands shook as you stuffed your clothes into your bag, sobs coming in ragged, painful gasps. “A step? We'd have to take twenty." you choked out, your voice breaking. 
Eddie looked away, struggling to reconcile your pain with his own fears. "I just, I'm sorry I confused you. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea."
"Maybe you didn't intend for things to change, but they did. We both let them. I did because I liked it, why did you Eddie?" 
His stomach twisted at your words.
 “Every rule we set, you broke," you continued, bitterness lacing your voice. "It was all ‘let’s keep it discreet’ until you kissed me between songs at practice. What the fuck was that?! ‘We need open communication,’ but you never talked about any line we crossed." Your voice rose despite your sobs. "For fucks's sake Eddie, we haven't been exclusive yet for six months, you’ve called after me! Going as far as turning down others because you want me in your bed. Whether we fuck or we don't."
Eddie stood still, motionless, as the weight of your words sunk in.
"You can try to downplay this all you want, but deep down you know. And it's why your past hookups could never satisfy you the way I do.” Tears streamed down your face as you glared at Eddie.
He just stood there, hit with the reality of your words. The silence grew heavy as he struggled to find a response.
"I don't know what you want me to say. I can’t just flip a switch and become something I’m not. I made my stance clear from the beginning." His voice wavering as he spoke. 
You shook your head in disappointment. "Got it." Your tears fell harder, and Eddie’s own eyes were on the verge of tears as he watched you zip up your bag.
“Baby,” he started, his voice trembling as he reached out a hand towards you. 
“Don’t, Eddie,” you scolded, your voice a harsh whisper. “You don't wanna call it love, fine. But it's done." 
Eddie’s face twisted in confusion and frustration as you finished speaking. He seemed to get only a fraction of what you were saying. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice cracking with desperation. "We'll just go back to how it was before. I mean, we can just forget about all this..." 
"You're not getting it, Eds" you replied, your voice steady despite the tears. "I can’t be your friend.” 
Eddie’s face contorted with panic. "No, don’t say that," he pleaded, his voice trembling. "I’m sorry I led you on. We can go back - just like it was. We can fix this." Tears welling up as he tries to grasp what you're saying. 
"Eddie, it wasn't just that. This whole thing between us has made me realize that maybe… maybe I had feelings for you long before we hooked up."
Eddie's face pales, his panic escalating as he tries to comprehend what you're saying. "What the fuck is happening right now?" he says, his voice rising in distress. He collapses onto the couch, his body shaking as the gravity of the situation hits him full force.
"Before we, before this, you said you didn't," he mutters, almost to himself, as he tries to reconcile your words with his memories. 
"I didn’t realize it then," you admit, your voice breaking. 
Eddie’s face was wet with his own tears now, his hands trembling as he held his face, taking in your words.  
"I never would’ve let anyone else call me a nickname I hated. Anyone else’s persistence would’ve been stopped but it just sounded so pretty coming from your mouth..." Your voice was choked with emotion. “And I think being honest with myself about that, along with everything we’ve been doing... I've realized that maybe I was  being a fool to think it was ever just attraction."
Eddie breaks down, his tears flowing freely. "Goddammit" he chokes out, his voice thick with regret.  “I can't-"
You cut him off knowing what he was going to say. "I know Eds, you've made it clear," your voiced cracked sobs breaking through the words. "You were right to worry this would get messy, I'm sorry I told you I could handle it." You took a deep breath and looked at him one last time, the ache in your chest almost unbearable. You slung your bag over your shoulder, heading for the door.  "I'd probably do it again though." You whispered. 
"I don't want to lose you,” he said, his voice wavering as he tried to hold back his emotions.
You paused, your heart aching with the weight of his words. "I have to go," you said finally. With one final glance at Eddie, you turned and walked out of the trailer.
“You just need a better life than this / You need somethin' I can never give”
Eddie’s tears fell uncontrollably as you left.  Watching you walk away was like a rift tearing through time and space, an unbearable ache that pierced his soul. 
His mind spiraled in a loop, like a broken record that kept repeating the same line: It was a mistake. He knew better, he knew better than to get involved with you, but he had, and now you were gone. Eddie had wanted to believe that you could handle something casual, he risked it because he had an insatiable hunger that only you had satiated. His own denial ran so deep he hadn’t even fully accepted the magnitude of what was happening between the two of you until your words hit him like a freight train tonight. But as Eddie sat there, drenched in regret, his mind wandered to all things you. 
Eddie had always been branded the freak for being a little outside the box, and while he stayed true to himself it was always a bit toned down when he met new people. However when he met you, he knew he didn't have to do that.  While you could fit neatly into the box, you didn't care to. Eddie was instantly captivated by you, and it wasn't just because you were stunning - it was your wit, and charm that pulled him in. 
He could never forget the first day he realized he wanted to kiss you. It was one of the early times you hung out - that night you were complaining about "Dirty Dancing." You just kept rambling - so comically irritated, he found it hilarious and he wanted to just shut you up with his lips. He couldn't help himself coining, "Baby" for you. It had felt right rolling off his tongue, and even though you shot him an annoyed look, he could’ve sworn he saw a hint of a smile. Eddie then proceeded to try and get you to reenact the lift scene from the movie, but you refused with a firm “Fuck no, Munson.” Robin wouldn't either, but Steve, high as a kite, agreed. Of course it ended with them flat on the floor and the four of you laughing your asses off. For whatever reason that night marked a turning point for your friendship - the two of you began spending time together outside of your shared circle. It was always a little touchy, a little flirty and Eddie was constantly having to push the urge to kiss you outside of his mind. 
Steve was always trying to persuade Eddie to just go for it, but Eddie wasn’t interested. He typically only hooked up with the same person three times - if ever more than once. He feared that if he ever got involved with you he wouldn’t be able to go back, and commitment was something he wasn't into. Fast forward three years and nothing's changed. Still, one night around two years ago he nearly let his guard down. 
A group of you had gathered at a nearby bar before Corroded Coffin’s first paid show at The Hideout.
“Let me buy a round for you guys, a little liquid courage before tonight!" you insisted. Gareth joked that it wasn't necessary when they had Eddie's good luck charm - You. “Is that why you keep me around, Munson?” you teased, planting a playful kiss on his cheek. “For a little extra luck,” you said with a wink and a smile before heading to the bar. In that moment, Eddie was certain he had to kiss you. 
When you returned with a round of tequila shots, your cheeks flushed and your smile bright, you explained that the handsome guy at the bar; Matt - asked you out and then proceeded to buy the round of shots for you when you'd said yes.
As Jeff raised his shot and toasted, "To Matt!" Eddie looked at you, realizing that it was better this way. It would have been foolish to kiss you. You deserved someone who could offer you more. 
Eddie’s mind whirled, jumping from that almost kiss to the fateful night on your couch. He should've went home because from that moment everything changed. You were sensational, the way your body responded to him, the way you sounded, the way you made him feel. He was right to know himself, that after a taste, he would never want to go without. He was selfish for this.
The past 6 months together Eddie had recognized little shifts, but he'd ignored them. Looking back it was probably June when things first began to change from the raw thrill of a good time to something that hinted at a little more intimacy. Your presence had turned his bed into a sacred oasis, where he felt truly seen and understood. The laughter, the warmth, the touch - it was all part of a connection he cherished. Yet, every time it felt like it was too much, he would push it out his head, trying to drown out the truth that he felt something more. Even if he wanted to risk all for you, he couldn’t. He wasn’t good enough to make you his.
This painful realization was a truth he had to face. His fear of inadequacy and his belief that he couldn’t sustain a meaningful relationship had driven a wedge between you. And now, with you gone, he was left grappling with the reality that he had pushed away the one person who had made him question his own defenses. Sitting on his couch, a headache pounding from his tears, he tried to sleep, searching for some sort of peace.
In the weeks that followed, Eddie rarely visited his bedroom. It was a space tainted by your absence. His home felt hollow, so he picked up extra shifts at the diner, and crashed at Gareth’s when he could. He thought about reaching out to you, admitting you were right, that he loved you too, but he knew it wouldn’t change a fucking thing. He still couldn’t give you what you wanted. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, not when he didn’t believe he was enough.
You deserved the best, and Eddie didn’t think he was that. He was still  a pot dealer,  bussing tables to make ends meet and for some free food, just dreaming of a future with his band...
Eddie had been so absorbed in the band that he had drifted from the usual social circle. The only time he’d seen Steve and Robin since your departure was after one of his show the last weekend in September. They had approached him, and Eddie, looking weary and regretful, had apologized for not being around much. He wanted desperately to ask about you - God, he did - but he struggled to find the right words.
When Steve and Robin happened to mention they hadn’t heard from you either, Eddie’s heart sank. You were probably avoiding them, likely to keep from running into him. Steve, with a knowing look, asked if the two of you had gotten involved. Eddie gave a brief, vague answer that painted a picture of your arrangement without exposing too much. 
“Maybe try reaching out to her though.” He suggested. 
 Robin nodded solemnly. “Of course,” she replied, understanding the complexity of the situation without needing more.
The days blurred into weeks as Eddie threw himself into his band, trying to escape the gnawing emptiness and the haunting memory of you. Each gig was an  escape, but it never lasted. The real struggle was coming home to an empty space, a home without the one person who had made everything feel right. 
“Back when we were still changin' for the better / Wanting was enough / For me, it was enough" 
It was the kind of night that makes you want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over your head, except you weren’t in bed. You were behind the wheel of your car, heading home after leaving the man that you loved. 
As the tears flowed freely, your mind drifted to the most serious relationships you’d had. Your college boyfriend, your relationship with Matt - both seemed like mere practice compared to what you shared with Eddie. He wasn’t just the best fuck you’d ever had, he was the best person you’d ever known. The thought of never being around him again was agonizing.
Returning to your apartment felt like a warm welcome from an old friend. You had spent nearly all of August entwined in Eddie’s bedsheets, living for the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could have a future together. You uncorked a fresh bottle of Riesling, not even bothering with a glass as you tried to drown out the fact that Eddie was never truly yours.
Weeks after leaving Eddie, the silence was deafening. The ache of not hearing from him, of not knowing how he was, ate at you incessantly. You knew that this was your choice, yet you'd expected some sign - any sign - that he was still there, still thinking of you.
You threw yourself into work, hoping that staying busy would numb the pain. But this came at a price - you isolated yourself from your friends, avoided their calls, and shut yourself off from the world that might remind you of Eddie. When Robin buzzed your intercom one evening, her arrival was a welcome disruption to your self-imposed exile. She stood at your door with pizza and ice cream in hand, a silent understanding in her eyes.
"Hey," she said softly, a warm smile breaking through her concern. "I thought you could use some company."
You invited her in, your heart heavy as you tried to muster a smile. You sat in your living room, as you finally let your emotions spill out. 
Between sobs, you managed to ask, "How is he?"
Robin took a deep breath, clearly choosing her words carefully. "He hasn't been around either, but Steve and I saw him last weekend, he's been busy with the band. They're doing really well - they’re working hard to catch the eye of an A&R rep to help develop them. When we told him we hadn’t heard from you, he briefly explained why that might be, and not that I wouldn't have anyway - but he was one that suggested this." 
He had thought of you. That was enough to make you break down again. Robin wrapped her arms around you.
“It’s okay," she whispered.
Robin comforted you the rest of the night. Reassuring you that in time it will get better. As Robin was on her way out you told her that while you missed everyone it was just too hard right now, and you needed more time. 
She nodded, understanding. "We’ll be here whenever you’re ready."
As she left, you felt hope amidst the sadness. But even with that hope, you found it difficult to move forward. You almost mustered the courage to attend Jonathan and Nancy’s Halloween party, but after getting dressed, you couldn’t bring yourself to go. A week later, you had plans for lunch with Steve and Chrissy but the nausea of confronting your emotions kept you from following through. It was still too soon to be around the people who reminded you of Eddie, so you stayed away, in your cocoon of sorrow, hoping that someday the pain would ease enough to allow you to step back into your life.
“And from the outside / It looks like you're tryin' lives on / I miss the old ways / You didn't have to change/ But I guess I don't have a say / Now that we don't talk"
It was the second week of November, and you’d decided to go out for drinks with some colleagues. You were at a bar you’d never been to before, located on the other side of town - quite far from the usual spots you and your friends frequented. With the slim chance of running into anyone you knew, you let your guard down and enjoyed the evening. 
You were so engrossed in your conversation that you almost missed it. At first, you thought you’d imagined it, but then you heard it again. Your stomach dropped, and a wave of heat washed over you as you recognized Eddie’s unmistakable voice. Looking around, it was Gareth you spotted first, and as you looked for Eddie, your heart sank. He looked drastically different - his once long hair was now a buzz cut, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, while dressed in a navy striped button-down. His signature leather jacket draped over the back of his chair the only remnant of the man you remembered.
Despite your attempts to refocus on your colleagues, your attention kept drifting back to Eddie and the band. They were celebrating with a round of shots, and you wondered if they were marking a milestone. Since the round of drinks you’d suggested for their first paid gig, you knew they had a tradition of celebrating this way. Your heart sank as you overheard Eddie’s toast: the local station had agreed to start playing their music, and they were promised a small tour around neighboring states in the new year.
Watching the band’s journey over the past three years -  early gigs at house shows to paid gigs at dive bars - you knew you had to say something, not just to Eddie but to all of them. You were proud of their progress, and after witnessing their hard work at countless practices this year, it felt right to acknowledge their accomplishments. You couldn't deny that it almost felt kismet, that you were here tonight.
As your coworkers began wrapping up their night, you excused yourself. You made your way over to the band’s table, your heart racing. As you approached their table, Gareth’s eyes lit up as he saw you.
“Well, look who it is!” Gareth exclaimed.
Eddie turned, his smile dropped as he took in your presence. 
“Of all the gin joints, you walk into the one I’m in?” you joked, attempting to ease the awkwardness. The band chuckled, and you continued, “I couldn’t help but overhear you guys. I just wanted to come over and say congratulations. I know how hard you’ve all worked.”
The band echoed their gratitude before Gareth suggested you join them. A sudden, overwhelming discomfort gripped you. This was a mistake. Every lingering feeling you had for Eddie was rushing back, and you found yourself struggling to maintain composure. "Oh thank you, but I need to get home” you say, attempting to mask the unease. “But I’m really happy for you all.”
As you start to walk away, Eddie rose from his seat. “Baby, wait" he called out. 
There it was, the nickname only he called you. The one you'd been aching to hear.
You stopped, turning slightly to face him as he reached you. "I um, just wanted to say, thanks for that. I really appreciated you coming to to the table.” 
"Of course." you say softly.
His eyes roam over your figure as he takes in the way your dress fits, and a low, almost involuntary groan escapes him. “Wow, that dress, you.. you look incredible." 
You give him a thankful nod. It hurt you to hear him say that, knowing you'd bought this dress months ago solely with the intention of him taking it off.
"Me? Look at you, you look so.... I don't know. Refined, maybe?"
Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Is that good or…?” 
"Oh y'know you always look good," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "But I’d be lying if said the hair didn’t shock me a bit at first,” you admit.
Eddie’s eyes soften, and he responds with a chuckle. “It’s weird for me, still. I haven’t had a buzz cut since middle school. But I just needed... a change.” His words hit you harder than expected, and you feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.
You nod, unable to hide your emotion.
He smiles, though it’s tinged with sadness. “I want you to know I thought about reaching out but I wasn't sure...." he trailed off. 
You nodded again, acknowledging the sentiment, a small smile on your lips as you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat. “I really should go, but I am truly so proud of you, Eddie,” you said, your voice wavering. “Ever since I met you, I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked for what you want and I'm so happy that it's paying off."  
The words seemed to break something in him. Instinctively he reached out, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. “I’ve missed you,” he breathed into your hair.
You hugged him tightly, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’ve missed you too,” you whispered back, feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped, and you wished you could stay there forever. But as much as you wanted to linger, you knew you had to go. You slowly pulled away, forcing a smile through the tears. “I'm really glad I got to see you,” you said softly. 
Eddie looks at you, his gaze lingering as if he’s on the verge of saying something more, but he simply nods. “Me too,” he says quietly. 
“And I’d give up forever to touch you / ‘cause I know that you feel me somehow / you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be / and I don’t want to go home right now”
The ride home felt like déjà vu. Another teary-eyed drive to your apartment after walking away from the man you loved.
Once you were home, you sank into the couch. Wrapped in a blanket, tears streamed down your face as The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead album played on the record player. For the 17th of November, the weather was a bit of a mess. It honestly felt poetic, the thunderstorm mirroring the emotions you were feeling. Every crack of thunder echoed your sobs.
About an hour into your pity party, you were starting to regain some composure when the buzz of the intercom startled you. You figured it was your neighbor, who often used the wrong buzzer, so you hit the button to let them in. Just as you were about to lay back in your spot on the couch, you heard a knock at your apartment door. Curious and a bit irritated, you peered through the peephole and froze. It was Eddie, drenched from the rain, with tears streaming down his face. Your heart raced as you swung the door open, and he walked in, shutting the door behind him.
"Eddie, what-" Before you could utter another word, he started rambling.
“What are the fucking odds you’d be at that bar tonight?” he began, his voice breaking. “On a night that was supposed to be a highlight in my life, all I wanted was to share it with you.” His words came out in fractured gasps, his tears mixing with the rain on his face.
“When you said I fought for everything I wanted, it felt like a knife twisting in my chest... because it’s a lie when I let you leave.” His voice cracked, and he struggled to steady himself.
“I should’ve told you this at the bar,” he choked, his tears falling harder now. “It felt like fucking fate that you were there tonight, and I still let you walk away. Again. I'm so sorry for the way things turned out. I should've fought for us. I should've fought for you. I let you go because I couldn’t admit I loved you. Even though you knew - of course fucking you knew - because you see me, all of me. And you’ve loved me through it, even when I didn’t think it was possible.” He buried his face in his hands, wiping his tears and catching his breath.
“I was convinced I wasn’t enough for you,” he continued. “But you wanted me all the same. I’m so sorry, I should’ve called you weeks ago. I’m sorry for being scared I couldn't be what you deserve, but every day without you has been fucking hell.” His breaths came in jagged, broken waves. “I thought I could move on... but the goddamn world would have to stop before I could ever stop feeling this for you... It’s always been you.”
“Eddie,” you breathed.
Eddie stepped forward, his hands cupping your face. “I'm still not sure if I'm the man you deserve, but I'd like to try if you’ll have me.”
You nodded at his words, tears streaming down your face. Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his in a kiss that began tenderly but quickly deepened, fueled by a desperate need to reconnect and erase the distance that had come between you. Your moans mingled as your tongues met, and Eddie's hands tangled in your hair. When you finally pulled apart, both of you breathless, you rested your foreheads together.
“I love you, Eddie Munson,” you whispered.
“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he murmured, placing a kiss on your forehead.
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bandofchimeras · 2 years
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realizing my demand avoidant ass genuinely enjoys fun little flings with sex & intellectual connection + queer platonic bestie cohabitation far more than doubling those up into a committed romantic partnerships & that is a valid way to do things
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frantic-fiction · 5 months
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Beg 18+
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Pic Credit: astarionposting
Astarion x F!reader
Summary: Astarion asks for more blood, you make him work for it.
Warnings/Tags: Smut MDNI, fingering, begging, slight overstimulation, sub!Astarion, switch!Astarion, Druid!Reader
Word Count: 3.8K
Masterlist
"There you are, darling,"
Astarion hovers above you as you sit cross-legged in the grass by your tent, his shadow blanketing you, blocking the sun's warmth. You hum in acknowledgment, but your focus is solely on your book. A delicate finger dangles in front of the vampire, who audibly scoffs but otherwise stays silent and waits, patiently observing. 
You pick at the skin of your lips absentmindedly with your teeth as you flip the page. You can feel his eyes on you, taking every inch of your body in with his wandering gaze. Shifting in the grass, you continue to read, relishing the impatience dripping from Astarion, smirking when each flick of the page elicits a huff of annoyance from the vampire.
Once your chapter finishes, you mark your page and lean back on your hands to look up at the man with a quizzical arch to your brow. "How can I help you, Astarion?" 
His annoyance melts like ice in the sun as a sultry smile stretches his lips. "Can I not simply want to see your enchantingly beautiful face?"
You snort, "You have barely spoken to me since the tiefling's party. So I'd say you want something." Standing, you brush off the dirt on your pants and move to store your book away.
"I have to!" Astarion balks, pressing a hand to his chest in a dramatic display. "Besides, we have been incredibly busy running all over the gods damn wilderness since you and everyone else seem to want to play the hero."
You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, a playful retort poised on your tongue. "I'm terribly sorry that some of us have morals and a conscience," you tease, your gaze meeting him with a mixture of challenge and amusement.
"Oh, I have morals, my sweet," Astarion purrs, leaning into your space, his breath chilly against your skin. "however, mine sway towards the more sinful side."
You suppress the shudder that trembles through your body. Astarion always has a way of reducing you to a mumbling, blushing mess with only a few salacious words. It's like he holds the key to pulling you apart and leaving you consumed by him, and he knows it, too. But you're not giving in that easily. There's something he wants. You can see it in his eyes, and he's not going to get it without working for it.
Putting your hand up, you interrupt his following flirty remark. "Did you want something? Or are you just here to interrupt my free time?"
Astarion looks at you in shock, mouth open to speak, but no words seem to want to flow. His eyebrows furrowed, and a smirk stretched his lips. Leaning on one hip, Astarion flicks out his hand, idly looking at his nails. 
"Yes, actually, I have a list. Coin, sex, blood, revenge," Astarion counts on his fingers, his tone dripping with amusement. "Certainly not in that order, and I could go on, but what I came here for specifically is something that might be better…" Astarion looks around the camp, taking mind of everyone. "Discussed in private."
Having a hunch on where this would lead, you stifle a laugh, a plan forming in your head. "Then lead the way." You motion for him to walk, smiling brightly at the vampire. 
Astarion nods smugly, obviously feeling like his plan was going just as he attended. He escorts the two of you past the others' tents and deep into the woods. Your hunch seems more viable as the brush becomes thicker and the symphony of nature's melody replaces the still air. 
After a few minutes of walking in relative silence, the two of you break into a small clearing. Its grass has spatters of bright patches of wildflowers, and the colors of oranges, pinks, and blues contrast against the expanse of green. There's a small pond on the far side, and cattails and pond reeds sway in the winds. A deer is grazing the water, but sensing Astarion as a predator; it quickly retreats to the woods.
Paying more attention to the scenery, you had yet to notice Astarion stop mid-step and swing on his heel. You stumble slightly into his chest. "I believe this spot will do nicely," he declares smugly as you step back.
Taking a step back, you quickly recover, "And why are we here exactly, Astarion? I was quite enjoying my book."
For a moment, uncertainty flickers across Astarion's features before swiftly being concealed behind a facade of confidence and a devilish smile. Turning away from you, he strides further into the small alcove.
"Are you so eager to escape my company, my dear?" he counters playfully, eyes scanning the clearing. "I thought you would like this little spot. I had no idea how beautiful the woods could be." 
"You're stalling," you accuse.
"Am not!" Astarion's voice echoes against the canopy.
Folding your arms over your chest, you give Astarion a pointed look.
The vampire sighs deeply, shoulders slumping. "Gods, this is embarrassing," Astarion mumbles under his breath so low you barely catch it. He combs a hand through his tousled curls, not bothering to turn back to face you. "Fine, yes, you see… I'm hungry, darling. Starving, actually."
Of course, the prick ignores you for almost a week to ask you for a bite. After what he did, he thinks he can call on you like his personal snack pack. Oh no, he's going to have to do better than that.
"Then hunt." You smirk, "Or did you need me to ensnare something for you?" 
"Excuse me! I am perfectly capable of hunting!" Astarion snaps his head back and storms toward you. "It's these bloody woods; there's barely any fauna in the cursed thing."
His outburst has the surrounding animals scurrying, and before you can open your mouth to utter a mocking retort, Astarion grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against his body. You yelped at the sudden force of his moments, your hand catching yourself on his chest. 
"Don't make me say it," Astarion breathes against your ear, his hands trailing teasing paths down your sides. 
"Astarion," you chuckle, feigning ignorance. "I don't understand what you're implying. If you want something, you'll need to say it."
Astarion nuzzles against your neck with a groan of frustration, his lips brushing against your skin in a maddeningly gentle caress. "Darling, may I have a taste?" He murmurs, the scrape of his fangs against your flesh nearly causing you to relent. "I'm famished, and your blood… Gods, it's intoxicating. I promise to make it just as pleasurable for you."
How easy it would be to say yes. Let him take what he wants and wait for the next time he wants something from you. But you weren't his little chew toy, just waiting for whenever he deems you worthy enough for attention. No, he needs to learn. 
"Beg." You demand, twirling out of his grasp and pushing him away gently.
"What?" Astarion pauses, disbelief written across his face as if he misheard you. 
"Beg." You repeat, your words slipping from your lips mockingly slowly.
"Are you serious?"
You meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, waiting for him to comply. As realization dawns, Astarion's expression shifts to amusement.
"Joking doesn't suit you, dear," he scoffs, his laughter echoing through the clearing. 
Silent and persistent, you hold his gaze, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. His eyes drift to the faint scar beneath your chin, a silent reminder. Wetting his lips, Astarion clears his throat before looking at you, clearly trying to grapple for the upper hand.
"Must we really play this song and dance?" He asks.
"If you want my blood, this is how you'll get it."
You hold firm, with your arms crossed over your chest. Astarion stares at you as if seeing you for the first time, and a mix of emotions storms behind his eyes. His body seems to deflate, coming to terms with the fact that you won't back down. Licking his lips, Astarion swallows hard and opens his mouth to speak.
"Darling," he murmurs through gritted teeth, his posture betraying his inner turmoil. "Allow me a taste of your exquisite blood. I'm starving and beg for your mercy."
"On your knees," you command softly, relishing the power that surges between you. "And I want a please this time."
Astarion looks at you with wide eyes. "Must I degrade myself further?" The anticipation in his voice betrays his reluctance to give in to you. "You've already gotten what you've wanted."
Biting your lip, you step closer and delicately cup his jaw, your touch gentle but commanding, and bring Astarion's lips tantalizingly close to yours. "I'll let you have your fill of my blood and more if you want. But only if you're a good boy and listen." Astarion breath leaves his lungs in a shuddering gasp, all fight seeping from his body.
"You are a cruel woman." 
With a resigned sigh, Astarion sinks to his knees. His silver curls reflect the golden light filtering through the forest canopy. His back is pin straight, and his neck is arched up to look at you with his deep crimson eyes. You can't help but focus on the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows again.
"I beg, please allow me the privilege to taste your tantalizing blood," he starts, but you zone out the rest of his words, focusing more on Astarion himself.
You focused on how his shirt hugs his chest, the cotton straining in some places while loose in others. You noticed how blue his veins are, just under his pale skin. You see how his pants seemed tight in the front, something stiff straining against the thick fabric. 
Wait. Oh. Now that is interesting. 
You pounce before you can think things through, mind moving more on instinct than anything else. Astarion's plea for you is replaced with a yelp as you push him on his back and straddle his lap.
"Wh-what are you?" he stutters before letting out a pathetic moan he will most certainly deny later. 
You capture his mouth in a heated kiss. Your tongue runs over the seam of his lips, and when Astarion allows you access, you lick into his mouth. Your tongues twirl in a practiced dance as you deepen the kiss. Astarion groans into your mouth. A hand moves up to cup your head, fingers combing through your hair. 
"Astarion," you purr breathlessly, rolling your front against the vampire's growing bulge. You press your body closer against his, practically willing yourself to melt into him. "Did begging for me get you all excited?"
"Excuse you? No! Don't be ridiculous," he tries to deny but fails when another moan rakes through his chest with another turn of your hips. 
"Look at you, all hard and needy." You lick up the column of his throat, stopping to playfully bite at his ear before whispering. "Do you like being my good boy, Astarion?"
"Shit! You're being ridiculous," Astarion pants, his hand tightening on your hips to cease your ministrations. "You're rubbing against me like a desperate virgin. Any man would get aroused."
Humming calmly, you sit back on your haunches and remove your shirt, tossing the garment into the bushes. Astarion's eyes immediately wander your exposed skin, drinking in the sight of your body. You take your bra off and trail your fingers over your nipples. Astarion lets out a pitiful groan.
"That's disappointing," you pout out your lip, trying to conceal a smile. "I was going to reward you for being so good." 
"Darling, I think this is reward enough, so long as we end this with my teeth in your pretty neck."
"That's good to know," you chuckle, trailing a hand down the valley of your breast and over the planes of your stomach, stopping just shy of your waistband. "I'll enjoy this reward for both of us.
Astarion's brows scrunch slightly in confusion before zeroing in on your hand as you teasingly slip under the waistband of your pants and past your folds. Sighing softly, you begin to tease your clit with the pad of your finger, staring down at Astarion, who looks as if he might just have an aneurysm.
He cools his features with a smug smirk, idly trailing his hand up your side. "A show and then dinner? My dear, you're not as good at this teasing as you think, but I admire your effort."
One of Astarion's icy hands works up to your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The other grips your hip and begins to rock you against his stiff erection. You involuntarily gasp at the friction, allowing the vampire a moment of control.
Astarion ruts against you, letting out a grunt when you grind down with equal enthusiasm. Then suddenly, Astarion's hands are ripped from your body and pinned to the ground as you rise further, removing any contact between the two of you.
"What?" Astarion exclaims before looking to the side. Little vines sprout from the ground, binding his hands to the hard earth. "Gods, you wretched thing." 
Clicking your tongue, you grin wickedly down at the trapped man. "Only good boys get to touch."
"Darling, must we continue this?" Astarion groans in frustration, tugging at your vines, annoyed when they don't give. "We both want this. You're the one making things difficult."
"Maybe, but only because I love hearing you beg for me. Now, unless you're going to give me what I want." You resume your ministrations, moaning as you dip a finger into your neglected hole. "Keep quiet,"
"At least remove your trousers!"
"Don't make me gag that pretty mouth of yours, Astarion." 
Astarion fumes from underneath you, but you can see the cracks forming, the dilated pupils, the rapidly falling chest as he pants for breath he doesn't need, and the way he tugs against his bindings even though he knows nothing will give. You know he'll break. He already did once he had a bit more incentive.
Adding another finger, you start to pump in and out of your dripping cunt; an audible squelching noise can be heard with each dip of your hand. You moan, dropping your head back. Circling your puffy clit with your thumb, you rock against your hand, your other one snaking up your body to tease your breast.
"Astarion," you breathe out, smirking when you hear the man's frustrated groan. "Gods, I'm so wet, making a mess, squeezing my fingers so tight."
"You are killing me all over again, sweetheart," Astarion cries; his hips are desperately trying to move against you, but another vine wraps around his stomach, holding him down.
"Just say the word's Star," you say, pinching your nipple and rolling it between your fingers. A whine rips from your throat when you curl your fingers up and hit that spongy spot, which has a familiar burning sensation that starts coiling in your gut. "Fuck, say the words, and it could be you making me feel this good. Won't you be my good boy?" 
"Gods," He bites back another moan, slamming his head in the dirt. 
"I'm so close," you whimper, moving your thumb faster against your clit. "Just imagine it could have been your cock I'm clenching around, not my fingers. Could have been you that's making a mess of me." Looking down, you see Astarion all flustered, mouth agape, and hair a mess of frizzy curls, his whole body practically buzzing with need. It was enough to send you over the edge cumming around your fingers with a choked sob. 
This finally broke the man. "Fine, okay! Please, please let me go!" Astarion pleads, voice ragged and needy. "Just let me touch you. I'll do anything you want, please. Gods, please, please, please!"
Suddenly, the vines vanish, and your lips are again on his. Astarion's pleas muffle against your mouth and quickly morph into a satisfied grunt when he bites his lip. Now that he's finally free, Astarion's quick to roll the two of you and pin you against the cold earth. Nestled between your thighs, Astarion starts mindlessly tearing at his clothes, his mouth trailing sloppy open-mouth kisses down your neck and to your chest. 
"You are an evil woman." Astarion murmurs against the skin between your breasts. Slipping one of your nipples into his mouth, he begins to suck, and you gasp, arching your back into him. 
"Astarion, fuck!" 
A hand curls into his hair, your nails raking against his scalp, causing him to hum against your chest, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You feel his hands move to your pants, tugging them down your hips, dragging your drenched underwear with them. 
A cold finger trails through your warm cunt, and you shiver at the feeling. "I must admit, darling, I quite like it when you take charge, but," His voice rumbles against your skin, and you whine at the feeling of his fangs teasing your swollen nipple. "My patience has grown thin, so if it's okay with you, your good boy will take his reward now." His finger teases your entrance, barely dipping in.
You clench, choking on the gasp that bubbles up your throats. "Yes! Gods, please fuck me!" 
Astarion cups the back of your head and kisses you deeply. Feeling his hard cock swipe through your cunt, your gasp into his mouth, your hand coming up to hold his face. He presses into you, and you pull away from his lips, moaning at the stretch of his cock, filling you to the brim. Astarion peppers feather light kisses over your face and neck as he bottoms out and waits for you to nudge him to continue. 
Throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, Astarion pulls out almost entirely before impaling you again and sets a steady pace. A pace has your toes curling and you feeling breathless with each delicious drag of his cock against your walls. You don't think you'll get over the feeling of Astarion inside you, feeling the ridges rub against you in all the perfect ways as if he has the only manual to tear you apart with mind-numbing pleasure. 
"Ugh-Always so tight," he grunts into your neck, "So perfect, just for me."
"Astarion!" You dig your nails into his shoulders and buck against each of his thrusts. "Faster, please!"
Astarion picks up the pace; your collective sounds of pleasure mingle together in the air, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the clearing. Astarion's forehead drops against yours, and both of your noses brush against each other as he breathes in every whimper and moan of ecstasy you give him with each drag of his cock against your walls. Snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies, his nimble fingers swirl around your clit in time with each grind of his hips. 
Another moan rolls off your tongue, and soon, that warmth blossoms once again in the pit of your stomach. "D-don't stop," you plead, hands running up his chest to wrap around his shoulder. "M' close." 
Astarion nuzzles at your neck and inhales your scent, groaning at a particularly tight squeeze of your cunt. Even after all the begging and pleading you put him through, he still silently asks before he takes a bite. The thought warms your heart and is something you'll have to reflect on later. 
"Yes! Please, bite me!" You whimper, clutching the back of his neck and pressing him close. 
The sharp sting of ice pierces your neck, and you cry out against the pain. Astarion pays special attention to your clit, applying pressure and dragging his thumb around the swollen bud, his way of helping you through the initial sting. After a moment, the pain resides in mind-numbing pleasure, and soon, everything becomes too much. 
Astarion consumes you. His hand caressing your body, his mouth lavishing your neck, his cock hitting you perfectly in spots only he seems to know how to reach. It's all too much, and soon tears prick at your eyes, and the heat in your lower stomach bursts, draining lava into your veins. Your nails dig into the flesh of Astarion's shoulders as you scream out his name, body spasming around the pleasure that courses through your body. 
This seems to be enough to push Astarion over the edge with you. Still drinking mouthfuls of your blood, Astarion is rutting into you, grinding your pelvis against the solid earth. His moans hum against your skin, and his thrust becomes sloppy before a rush of heat gushes inside you as Astarion cums.
With a few more gulps of blood and a few more thrusts of his hips, you whimper with overstimulation. Astarion removes his mouth from your body, licking any stray droplets. He rolls onto his back, dragging you with him until your head is lying on his chest. You whine at the loss of fullness, cringing at the feeling of your combined release that begins to drip down your legs. 
"That was…" Astarion trails off, seeming to be at a loss for words. 
"Way better than the tiefling party." You mumble against his chest, smirking at the snort he makes.
"Yes, I would be inclined to agree."
"So you admit it," you tease, trailing your thumb over Astarion's nipple. "You liked begging for me."
"I wouldn't… mind if you took charge again," Astarion says, skirting around your claim.
"Whatever protects your ego." You tilt your head up. "Hey, Star?" 
Astarion hums in acknowledgment, but his eyes are closed, his body seeping into a comfortable stillness. You note something he didn't allow himself to do at the party. Reaching your hand up, you run your fingers along his jaw, coaxing his eyes open.
"Next time, don't ignore me for a week to ask for my blood. I don't want you hungry. I care about you." 
Astarion seems to freeze at your words as if he's never heard a caring word said to him. The thought alone makes you want to hunt this Cazador down and flay him for all of Baldur's gate to see. 
Astarion opens his mouth to speak, but no words escape. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yes, that will certainly make things easier from now on." 
The two of you lay there in silence, just enjoying the feeling of each other's skin against the other. Soon, when the sky turns to ombres of blues, pinks, and purples, you decide it's time to return to camp. Astarion is quiet for the journey back; an air of contemplation clings to his being. You don't push. Goodnights were said, and you parted ways, feeling like something had changed. Everything may have changed.
Heya, it's been crazy, but I finally got some time and energy to finish up this piece I've been working on for a while. I hope Astarion's not too out of character for as earlier of act one, I just liked the idea. I hope you all enjoyed, let me know what ya thought!
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donutz · 2 months
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Not much but a romantic Sebastian and a burnt out gn reader who enters his shop to get some well deserved rest?
Burnt out! reader with Sebastian
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A little rest won't hurt...
— I verbally went "ooo" at this request, also apologies for taking so long(This applies to future requests)
Warnings: Possibly touch starved Reader and Sebastian; Reader acts alcohol drunk(Sorry I don't mean to bring up trauma😓) but is actually sleep drunk; Accidently flirty Reader; Very vivid descriptions, I just think it makes it kinda 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 so that's why I'm warning you; 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 mentions but nothing 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 happens; Flustered Sebastian ooo
Door, after door, after door, after door, you’re tired of this unending loop. The only good thing about this is that incredible shop and its owner.
God, what was his name again?
Sabers?
No that’s not it.
Uhhh.
Dang.
You can’t even think right! When’s the last time you forgot a name?
… You can’t remember that either, okay.
You’re limping through the halls, senses on point, well minus your sight. Your tired eyelids keep on dropping down or hanging.
You want to take a rest soooo baddd.
But you can’t. Not with Urbanshade watching you.
Not with Pinkie or Pandemonium.
Hate it.
Hate this place.
YOU hate this place.
Well accept for Sebastian since this place is the only reason he’s down here.
Just make it to Sebastian and you’ll be fine. Shove through the doors that won’t open or groan whenever you need a keycard.
Fight through the pain!
Well that’s pretty hard mentally.
And your mental state isn’t doing very well.
Ughhhh JUST GO THROUGH THE DOORS.
Sorry I didn’t mean to yell.
I’m just second personing your thoughts.
Actually my thoughts on what your thoughts are. Because I don’t actually know your thoughts. So yeah.
Oh god finally, door 48. You speed walk over to the next door, apparently not noticing Chainsmoker behind you.
.
.
.
“Woowww, you reallyyy saw that one. Y’know I–” He stops talking when he looks at your state. 
You’re looking down with your spine stretching till it pops out of your body. Your extremely tired eyes are barely even focusing, just waiting for that document to pop up.
Your body creates low and shallow breaths.
You look like you’re going to pass out.
“Oh uhhm… You alright?” Sebastian asks, with concern rolling around on his face.
Upon hearing his voice, you look up with excitement and expectation. Only being able to see two of his pastel blue eyes.
You try to speak but can’t, you’re dead remember?
Sebastian sees your attempt and sighs.
“Look, I know it’s hard out there but–” He pulls out his claw in front of you.
Seeing that as a, “Take my hand friend” Gesture, you take it. You seem touch starved with the way you quickly grasped onto his claw.
Using your two hands to grab his claw, breathing hard.
You wish you could feel his fingers.
In your hand of course.
Freakanator 3000.
But after a few seconds of silence and hand holding, you’re suddenly brought down to go see the document.
You didn’t even do that!
Did Sebastian do that?!
Could that have happened this whole time?
Then why did it happen now?!
Groaning in your head, you were motivated to see Sebastian and just maybe rest.
You were contemplating on whether you should keep going so you can find that dumb crystal and get out of here or for Sebastian. Meanwhile, he sat, surprised at the touch.
Maybe wanting some more?
From you specifically?
Just maybe?
You rushed through doors after ‘respawning’, even skipping some doors after hearing the entities behind you.
You perfectly nailed down the ways to survive the monsters, getting more and more excited as you get closer to Sebastian’s shop.
The adrenaline rushed through your body as you nearly broke down a few doors.
I thought those were bulletproof?
Slowing down your running, you nearly tripped upon seeing the room that Sebastian would be located in. Letting out big breaths that were loud enough to hear through your head gear.
Sometimes you let out a few guhs and coughs.
It was that bad.
You could drink your own sweat and that’ll help.
Your hands were on your knees, your legs shaking and sweat drops dripping onto your visor while you were looking down.
“Oh man, I can hear you from here. Take a break, yeah?” Sebastian commented, trying to not give you clues that he’s worried about you.
Saliva recollects in your mouth as you look back up at the vent. Your legs carry you over even if it hurts.
Getting out of the vent, you saw Sebastian and tried to smile.
“Ooo… You alright?” His question seemed genuinely curious.
You nod, crawling over to a spot and shutting your eyes.
Sebastian stays silent as he thinks that you fell asleep.
Your body collects its strength, your organs pumping correctly, the only thing that your brain needs now is sleep.
Yeah, the ONE thing that’s hard to get. Currently.
Your swaying right foot indicates that you’re awake, so Sebastian questions you on it.
“Oh you’re awake? I thought you passed out-”
“Offf course I’m awakee..!! How could I– Fall asleepp with a gooddd looking fella like youuu”??
Now that got him to pay full attention to you(Not like he wasn’t before).
“Are.. Are you drunk”?
‘Didn’t know prisoners could drink down here.’ He thought.
“Drunk on your lookss? Yeahhh. Youu look.. Soooooo HOT”!
Sebastian looks away to his left, mouth scrunched making it look like he’s disgusted. But he’s not! Because in this fanfic he actually likes you back.
He’d be flushing with red if he was warm blooded. 
You could tell with the way his fingers are fidgeting with each other. He attempts to pin back his side bang only for it to fall again.
He lets out a groan.
Changing your resting position, you stand up, walking over to Sebastian.
“I could pin your hair back for you. Hic up, baby. Ooo I’m so sleepy I’m hiccuping”.
“HAUH”?!?
“Oh sorry did I make you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean to I’m- hic up sorry”.
“It’s uhm. No. You didn’t make me uncomfortable, it's just that you’re so”..
“Bold? Yeah. I get like this when I’m sleep drunk”.
Oh so you’re aware you act like this?
“Y- Yea.. Bold”.
You stumble over to Sebastian, eyeing his tail. Looking back up at him, you point at his scales.
“Can I touch”?
“Yeah sure”.
Dropping down onto your knees you feel along his hard yet smooth scutes.
“I wish I could.. Actually feel your uhh, scales”.
“Hm”.
“But I can’t :(”
“Awh what a bummer.” He playfully teases.
After feeling up his tail some more, you ask him—
“What does it feel like”?
“My tail”?
“Yeah dum dum.” You chuckle at the slightly insulting nickname.
“Oh well now I won’t tell you because of your insult”.
“Nooooo, breathy chuckle, I was chokinggg… Wait no.. I was jokinggg”.
Sebastian stifles a laugh with his hand, his torso lightly shaking.
“Alright alright. My tail is pretty cold, it’s like smooth in a more slimy way. Yet there’s no slime. It’s kinda weird but I’m used to it”.
“Ooo, slimy tail. So if I take my hands off your tail I’ll get slime on my glove”?
“No, I just said that it’s smooth in a slimy sense yet there’s no slime”.
“... Sebastian, that makes no sense.” You said sternly.
“... Shut up”.
Eventually, you end up falling asleep on his tail. Drooling in your head gear, making a pool of it at the bottom.
Seeing you unconscious yet alive brings comfort to Sebastian. You’re still here, just not awake. Alive.
He’s never really thought about wanting a human alive before.
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I don't mean to make Sebastian seem like this shy 'baby', I just think he'd get all blushy and nervous at bold romantic actions.
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