#they’re a mess your honour

[cq-studios]

Since you said it was cool to ask about other WIPs, I'm SUPER curious about The End of Normal now, since the concept/potential dynamic between Brain and Eraqus seems really interesting.

(For this)

Heehehehheeheheh, yesssss, join me in the pit Cori lol

For the ones who haven’t seen my other post. This fic is a part of Nameless AU, which is an AU where Eraqus’ parents die and Brain has to take care of him (which is most definitely an oversimplification of it but that’s the gist).

So The End of Normal is the first chapter. Its where Eraqus finds out his parents died (which is the scene I’m gonna put in this post because I haven’t switched the other parts out of Brain’s perspective yet)

But if you want some Brain and Eraqus dynamic I can explain what it’s like at this point in time for you.

So this was touched on in the Dead Daughter Monologue, but Brain was an absent father in this AU. He sent his daughter (and wife) away because he couldn’t handle being responsible for kids after loosing all the Dandelions in UX (he didn’t completely abandon the two tho, he would pay for things and they were still held in high standing since the Blueblood status and stuff, he just never properly bonded with his kid). It’s because of this that a) Eraqus doesn’t necessarily hold him in high standings and b) Brain and Eraqus would never have never really talked before Eraqus ended up in his custody.

So they’re really awkward, avoidant, and kinda prickly towards eachother at first. Brain is trying his best but never really worked through anything (he doesn’t talk about it. Talk about your trauma Brain. Share with the class. It’ll make you feel better in the long run, I promise), and Eraqus is grieving and around someone who he doesn’t think cares (he’s still trying to keep up that cheery demeanour tho but sometimes it cracks).

And if I’m honest I haven’t actually written them interacting much yet, at least not bonding. Like the ideas are in my notes and I’m like ‘mmmm, yes,’ but I haven’t written them out yet… maybe I should do that next (or I should actually finish a chapter… or both lol)

Anyways here’s a snippet of the chapter

(As with all of these, it’s subject to change)

“And if you take into consideration the…”

Eraqus’ eyes were glued to the clock as time passed. And time passed so slowly. Sure, Master Odin was teaching, but if he wanted Eraqus to pay attention he shouldn’t be so monotone and easy to tune out. Especially since it was the last class of the day. Was there anyone here who wasn’t wishing for it to be over already?

“You know, staring at the clock doesn’t make time pass faster,” Bragi, who was sitting next to him, leaned in to whisper directly into his ear. His body shuttered as a chill went down his spine.

With a groan, he peeled his gaze away from the clock, “let me believe it for a second”.

“I did. It’s been several seconds,” His friend said, flashing him an smirk, “If I let you believe it any longer your eyes woul-”

“Shhhhhhh!” Urd spun her head around and held the two of them in a firm glare, “unlike you two, some of us actually care about our education”.

“Hey, it’s not my fault. Bragi’s the one who started the conversation,”

“Ouch, betrayal,” Widened eyes filled with mock hurt landed on Eraqus for a moment. Then, lifting up his hands in surrender, Bragi chuckled, “Alright, alright, my bad”.

“You guys are unbearable,” The grey haired girl said, with a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes. It was delivered like an insult, but the amused smile on her face before she turned away told Eraqus not to take it as one.

It didn’t take long for Eraqus to find himself once again fixated on the clock. The second hand spun in an endless cycle, and he counted each full rotation.

Only 60 minutes left.

Only 59 minutes left.

Only- Bark!

His head snapped in the direction of the door. There stood a small white dog-like spirit with a star on its head and a letter tied to its neck. Eraqus tilted his head. They only used spirits to deliver announcements when they were private…

Or when it had something to do with him.

He watched attentively as Master Odin untied the string holding the letter around the spirit’s neck. The usual question ran through his head. Am I getting picked up early? Could I please be getting picked up early?

The Master unfurled the paper then stood silent for what felt like an eternity as he read it. Come on please. “Eraqus,” Yes! “they want you at the office”. Wait. The office?

Slowly, Eraqus got up out of his chair. If he was dismissed they would’ve said as much, and he could just walk home. But the office? Why would they want him there?

As he was making his way out the door, he could hear Vor, behind him, going, “Oooh, you’re in trouble”.

She meant it as a joke, he knew that, but it certainly made him wonder.

I didn’t do anything wrong did I? He went over the whole day in his head. He didn’t think he did anything wrong.

The spirit led him past several full classrooms. Other students’ eyes burned holes into him as he walked by each open door.

Rumours were going to start spreading like wildfire, he could feel it. Did you hear? The Blueblood got sent to the office. I heard he did this. I heard he did that. That was the price of being the grandson of the great Master Brain, he supposed.

Not like he’d asked for it.

“Hey! Eraqus!” He turned his head to see Bragi running up behind him. His friend caught up but had to pause for a moment, hands on his knees, to catch his breath. With a laugh, Eraqus shot him a look. The redhead tilted his head up, matching that look with one of his own.

“So, the office. You know what’s up with that?” he asked between heavy breaths.

Eraqus shook his head, “No clue”.

“Figured as much,” Bragi shrugged, straightening himself out and starting to make his way forward. “Couldn’t think of anything you’d done worthy of an office visit”.

“Me neither,” he kept pace with his friend. His tone must’ve given his worry away because Bragi kept shooting him concerned looks as they moved. Eraqus decided that it was best to change the subject, “So, how’d you get out of class?”

“Asked to go to the bathroom,” Bragi lit up slightly, eyes glittering with mischief, “if he confronts me about being gone for 30 minutes I’ll politely inform him that he ‘was lucky he didn’t eat the cafeteria food yesterday’”.

A snort escaped Eraqus, “That’s genius”.

“Right? And it works every time,”

The two laughed their way through the rest of the halls and eventually made it to the office.

Eraqus was glad Bragi met up with him. Skipping class to hang out with a friend would make a nicer sounding rumour then ‘he got sent to the office’. He’d have to do some explaining to his parents but other than that, no real damage control would be needed.

Plus, having company certainty helped ease his tensing nerves.

What didn’t help though, was that now that they were outside the office, Bragi stood next to him completely silent.

There was a moment of hesitation before Eraqus broke away from his friend. He flashed Bragi a quick smile. The redhead returned the grin and gave him a, “Good luck”, right before he followed the dog-like creature the rest of the way into the office.

“You sent for-” He watched as the spirit hopped up onto the desk, giving the secretary’s face a lick. And that face looked as though it’d seen a ghost. “…me?”

A woman he didn’t recognize stood next to the secretary’s desk. She held her hands clasped in front of her. Her face was stiff, serious.

A pit formed in his stomach.

“Eraqus,” The woman began, her posture softening slightly.

The secretary pulled the dog-like creature closer to her chest, interrupting the stranger before she could begin to elaborate, “we just heard word from the team your parents were working with on today’s mission. They’ve-” her voice broke, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

He could feel water pooling in his as well. There weren’t many things she could mean. Not with that reaction.

“There was a battle and they-they didn’t make it. I’m so sorry”.

[seagull-scribbles]

Love her even though I’m not supposed to ❤️ she keeps me up

[curiositykilledtheradiostar]

Ezra voice so you and Vanto had a “completely professional relationship” huh

[flowercrowngods]

…anyway *opens the bardknight document*

[grabattheseballsss]

141 and their captain’s assistant

- it all started with a comment made by Laswell, she mentioned to John how tired he seems, how his eye bags are growing heavier each day passing

- she recommended him to get an assistant, John declined the offer and tried to get back to work, but laswell already made the call, she knew how annoying John can be when it comes to getting help

- then enters a pretty little thing, your hair in a messy bun, glasses neatly resting on your pretty face, short pencil skirt hugging your curves perfectly

- John couldn’t help himself from staring, gawking at you like some horny teenager

- the boys began seeing you scurrying around the base more often, the first to approach you was Johnny of course

- his deep voice partnered with his thick Scottish accent made you subconsciously bite your lip, staring up at him with your big doe eyes, you don’t even mean to, it’s just that more than half of the people in here were 6feet+

- Johnny’s flirtatious nature made you giggle, lightened up your day, but not your boss’

- every time the Scott decided to drop by your desk to accompany you, he’d get scolded by his captain

- “don’t need you distracting her from her job”

- “it’s her break, cap, plus, she’ a good lass, I’m sure she’s on top of…all her work” the scott would throw you a wink before his captain orders him to run laps around the base

- next came gaz, since he’s always visiting his captain’s office for reports, he saw you at the new desk in the captain’s office, the aura around you not matching anything in the dim, old and boring office, you gave him a slight smile before returning to your paperwork

- but gaz wasn’t going to let that be the end of your interactions no no

- he’d walk up to you in the mess hall, as you’re loading your plate up, striking a conversation with you, making last long enough for him to lead you to a table with his other teammates

- you shyly but politely sit down and introduce yourself to the masked man who sat opposite of you, his brown eyes staring into yours as his arms stayed locked, he just nodded and replied “ghost”

- you figured he’s not a social one, the Scot and the Brit both kept asking you questions, some may have been a bit intrusive but maybe they’re just being friendly !

- “so why ar’ ye here?”

“Kate laswell requested that I work for John price for a few months to ease the paperwork load on him”

- “I’m sure there’s a different kind of load he’s trying to get you to ease off of him”

- the three of your heads snap to the silent man, his brown eyes seemed to be crinkled, suggesting he was grinning or smirking underneath that mask

- “OI! LT’s got jokes, but he doesn’t mean anything by it” Johnny tried to reassure you, glaring at Simon as you looked down at your food

- you excused yourself as you made your way back to price’s office, you saw him still there, no signs of him moving at all “captain ? Did you eat today?” You asked sweetly

- oh what this man wouldn’t give to have the honours of eating you for every meal of the day, to have you sprawled on his desk, papers sticking to your sweaty skin, your chest rising and falling as you try to quiet yourself so nobody hears what your captain is doing to you

- “captain” fuck he’d love to hear you moan his rank, begging him to be gentle, but he knows deep down you’re a dirty girl and you want your “captain ?!”

- John snapped out of his daydream, he looked up at you, you were leaning to the side trying to check on him “have you eaten today?” You asked again, a worried look in your eyes

- John nods, not looking you in the eyes “yeah yeah” he cleared his throat as he tried to get back to work, but your soft, smaller hand stopped him from grabbing his pen, his brown eyes looked up, ab eyebrow raised as if to ask ‘what are you doing?’

- “I’m sorry, captain but I can’t allow you to get back to work if you haven’t had food” you stated, your body trembling as you stood your ground

- truthfully, price can easily launch you across the room with one arm, he knows his limits, and you’re nowhere near it, but you were right, he does need to eat, and although he wishes he could order you to spread your pretty thighs for him and let him have his fun, he doesn’t want to lose such a pretty sight so fast

- he let go of the pen, leaning back on his office chair “I haven’t brought any food”

“The mess hall still have some food there”

- “I don’t eat that rubbish”

“Well too bad, you need to eat”

- ooh… I guess his little kitty got claws now

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “even more stuff based on personal experience” prompts

“What if I just continued to rile you up?” (MFER ON A STICK-)

“And if I continue to tease you like this…”

“Fuck, you need to stop teasing me like this, please.”

“I’ll touch myself if you do, too.”

Character B telling Character A to touch themselves while they’re already fondling with themselves.

Character B dipping their head down to eat Character A out without warning, causing Character A to gasp loudly and bite their bottom lip.

“I like it when you tell me what to do.”

Character B teasing Character A’s nipples with their fingers (or tongue) and enjoying the way they’re making Character A break (in a good way) completely from that; flicking them and rolling the buds between their fingers.

From soft little kisses from the face to the jaw to the neck, to hungrily leaving marks on their neck.

“You’re so warm, and it turns me on so much.”

“Fuck me,” Character B whispers harshly as Character A grinds down against them.

“Why are you looking up at me from down there?” Character A questions, threading their fingers through Character B’s hair as they glance down at them, their head lingering between their thighs. “Because you’re hot and I like looking at you,” Character B says with a grin.

Character B planting kisses on their inner thighs after eating them out.

Anytime Character A would comment on how hot it is, Character B would butt in and ask, “Like you?”

From soft banter to Character B leaving even more marks on Character A’s neck.

“You turn me on so much.”

“I’m so wet/hard.” “Well, good.”

“Fuck you,” Character A laughs. “Sure,” Character B says, a soft underlying teasing tone to their voice, laced in that one word they say. Character A sighs loudly, “Oh my God, what the hell, I didn’t mean it like that—”

Character A holding Character B’s hands as Character B eats them out, fingers intertwined. (PRO-TIP: HOLD HANDS WHILE YOU GET TONGUED FUCKED, IT'S GREAT)

“You’ve seen literally everything.” “And I like what I saw.”

“You’re the only one who’s seen everything. Be honoured.” “Well, I’m glad I have that privilege.”

“Well, how do you like it when I touch myself?” “It... Turns me on.”

“I’m a mess right now.” “Hmm… And I wonder why that is?” “Hmm, yeah, I wonder why, too.”

Character A playing with Character B’s buttcheeks and giggling about it, only for Character B to get their revenge later on.

“You have my permission to do whatever you want with me.”

“God, I wanna sit on your face so bad.”

“Keep it down a bit more, won’t you?” “How about fuck you?” 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Character A fucking themselves on Character B's tongue.

Being ate out so good they can’t stop the lewd noises coming from their mouth.

[grimmweepers]

— ★ 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅!

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: how they go about with snatching your panties :3

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: (all separate) gojo, toji, sukuna, nanami, yuuji, x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k | masterlist | byf/dni

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: fem!bodied reader, modern au, yuuji is aged up (21+) panty stealing (obv), pervert behaviour, panty sniffing, masturbation, dubcon, unprotected sex, lying, teasing, stalking (with yuuji sorta kinda), established relationship for most except yuuji, sukuna calls you ‘sweetheart’, MDNI

𝐚/𝐧: i wrote this with a raging fever so apologies if it sounds funky. had to sneak yuuji into this roster bc i feel like he would

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

— ★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

As soon as he can proudly proclaim the title of your boyfriend, wearing it like a badge of honour, he figures he’s got a right to certain perks— like getting his hands on your panties. At first, you don’t notice but then you realise that a few pairs have mysteriously vanished. Some are just your regular cotton ones but one of your favourite, sexier pairs is gone too. He knows it’s fucked up but he can’t seem to stop thinking about your pussy whenever you're not around. Gojo's seen you in every single one of them and just thinking about how they hug your curves or knowing that they’re tucked into crevices that only he’s allowed to pry on, gets him rock hard.

Now, he’s in his room, jerking off with one of your panties clamped between his teeth, the faint hint of your scent got beads of precum leaking from his tip. “Fuck, baby,” he groans, the fabric brushing against his lips as he speaks. He also has your naughtiest pair laid out on his bed, stroking himself while he imagines how you looked the last time you wore them. But he isn’t just thinking about you wearing them— he’s picturing you bending over and teasing him before he takes them off.

“God, I need you so fucking bad,” he pumps his fist faster, breath ragged as he thinks about how they’ve clung to your body, remembering the warmth that once pressed against your skin. It’s dirty and it’s wrong but the thrill of it only makes him want you more. As he nears the edge, the thought of you catching him flashes into his mind. What if you suddenly walked in, finding him with your panties between his teeth, his cock in his hand? All your possible reactions make him shiver. Maybe you’d be embarrassed, perhaps you’d scold him— or maybe you’d join him, take control, and make him pay for being such a perv. The idea makes him cum hard as your name spills out of his mouth. Collapsing onto his bed, he can’t help but give an impish grin. He’s already waiting for the next time he’ll be with you, eager to find out if you've noticed and curious to see if you'd let it slide.

— ★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“I’m takin’ these.”

Toji doesn’t even bother with an explanation. He’s letting you know straight up that he’s stealing your panties after you’ve just had sex.

“But I won’t be wearing anything on my way home—” you protest, only that makes it better for him. Knowing that you’re walking around bare and that he’s to blame makes his face twist into a wicked smirk. Going commando with the fresh memory of him still between your thighs, while he keeps a piece of you with him— it's his messed-up version of romance, so somehow, you can't even be mad.

The next time he has a boner without you around, he’s pulling your panties out, burying his face in the fabric, and breathing you in. The scent of you makes his cock twitch painfully as he wraps them around it. The softness of them rubs him just right, delicately clinging to how hard he is. As he strokes himself, he imagines you out there, unprotected, thinking about how easy it would be to slip his hands down your waistband and feel nothing between your skin and his fingers. His breaths grow heavier, his thoughts dirtier, until he’s pumping faster. He’s almost drooling at the feeling of your panties against him and his mind is already racing with thoughts of what he’s going to do to you the next time you’re with him. But there’s something that gnaws at him, something insatiable that won’t let up. Grabbing his phone, he hits the video call button, not caring that it’s late or you might be busy. He needs to see you.

“Hello?” You answer.

“You alone?” He asks with a knowing smile playing on his lips.

You sigh, “Yes…”

“Just couldn’t stop thinkin’ about ya,” he confesses.

Your silence tells him that you were intrigued, waiting to see what kind of filthy bullshit he was going to involve you in this time. With a slow tilt of his phone, he shows you everything below his waist and resumes exactly where he left off. When you spot your panties, it must have been obvious because he chuckles out of saatisfaction, "Yeah, I thought you'd like that."

As he continues, he makes sure your focus is on him, not planning to stop until you're as hot and bothered as he is.

— ★ 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

Ah, Yuuji, Yuuji, Yuuji. The guy who lives across the hall from you, who’s always had a crush on you that you never noticed.  You run into him now and then at your apartment building’s laundromat— he’s the one who waves hello or makes small talk when he has the time. And that’s usually it. But you don’t see how he’s always eyeing that single piece of underwear peeking out from your basket of clean laundry. 

He wants to take it so badly. He knows he shouldn’t. But the temptation is too much and before he can stop himself, he’s slipping it into his pocket the moment you turn around, then scurrying back to his apartment with a mix of shame and excitement. Once inside, he tosses it on the sofa, trying to ignore it, but the more he stares at it, it’s harder to resist. The good in him wonders if he heads back now, would he be able to reverse what he’s done? But images of you walking around in what he’s stolen— of the fabric pressed between your ass as you sit on him— push every humane thought out of his mind.

As if his hands have a mind of their own, he’s got his dick out in the living room, in broad daylight, just trying to get his shameful boner over with. Grabbing the panties, he brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply as he fucks his fist, “Ugh… What am I doing?” he says under his breath but something twisted about the guilt pushes him further. His pace quickens, the stolen panties clutched tightly in his other hand. Yuuji knows he’s crossed the line but the idea of going for the real thing absolutely haunts him. You live so close yet remain so blissfully unaware, which only fuels his obsession.

With a strangled groan, he finally cums and his body shakes with the intensity of it. As his post-nut clarity sets in, a wave of regret crashes over him. It makes him want to run to you and apologise but the thought dissipates when he notices how some of his cum had soiled them. He stares at the mess, a sick blend of pleasure and something else churning in his gut. He decides he’ll clean them properly, and return them to the laundromat to disguise them as you accidentally forgetting them there. And he’ll just have to live with the knowledge of you possibly wearing them again, now stained with his secret.

— ★ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

Another one who was tempted by the clean laundry. He’s been over a few times and while you’d say you’re dating, there’s no official label to it yet. You’ve slept with him once and it was divine; his gentlemanly nature hasn’t faltered since. But something brings him deep shame. He hasn’t exactly stolen your panties but when he excused himself to your bathroom on one casual evening and saw your clean ones hanging on a small rack, his thoughts went straight to his dick.

Just in and out, he thought, needing to get his business done quickly and get out. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t resist, especially when he saw the same pair from the night you both shared a bed. He remembered how he fucked you while you had them on— how he’d push them to the side while he buried himself inside you and how he dragged his entire length up and down your folds beneath the fabric, his tip poking against the material as it slipped under your panties.

In and out, he reminded himself. But the memory of you was too much. He had to quickly get rid of this boner before leaving the bathroom so he unzipped his pants and started stroking himself, eyes locked on the panties as if he could hear the gasps and moans you made on that very night. He moved faster, his hands shaky as he tried to make as little noise as possible. It was only moments ago since he’d last seen you so your face was still fresh in his mind. Perhaps there was a chance for him to come clean but how could he when you were out there innocently preparing dinner for him? 

Nanami’s grip tightened around his cock and with a final groan, he came into his hand. He initially feels a pang of guilt but asks himself if this was really more sinful than the things he’d done to you directly. He cleans himself quickly, trying to steady his breath before rejoining you. And when he returns, you don’t suspect a thing from your respectful, soon-to-be boyfriend.

— ★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

Does it really count as stealing if it was something you were going to throw away anyway? He had ripped them off during sex, stuffing them in your mouth, so by the end of it all they were deemed unwearable. After railing you into oblivion, he pocketed your panties as if they were a trophy of some sort but actually forgot about them until he got home. The lingering smell of sex was still on them, and honestly, yeah… he could go for another round of emptying his balls.

He’s already fantasizing about you being pressed against him, beating his meat while he smothers himself with your scent, and biting into the fabric just to get a bit of your taste again. He knows they’re not something you’ll miss right away but a part of him wishes you do— imagining the cogs turning in your brain and the look of surprise on your little face when you realise you never actually threw them out and how they disappeared after Sukuna had left your home. 

This got him going and he was stroking even faster now, growling at how his hands snuck under your panties only for him to rip them apart. Opening you up like a gift, he remembered how it exposed your slick folds and the wetness that stained the fabric— all caused by him. “This is all f’me, huh?” He had said before diving into you. He bucks his hips into his fist, the picture of you taking his cock making him lose all senses. Sukuna was seriously one phone call away from driving back and fucking you all over again. 

He grunts lowly as his cum splutters all over your panties, his chest heaving while looking at the mess he’s made. He’s momentarily taken aback at the amount that spurted out despite getting some release earlier in the day. Just as he’s catching his breath, his phone rings and he smirks when he sees your name flashing across the screen.

“Calling so soon? You miss me or what?” He taunts you as he picks up the phone.

“Oh cut the crap, I know what you took. Return them to me!”

“Sweetheart, you can’t even wear them anymore.”

“...”

He sighs dramatically, “Alright, alright. I’ll come, but don’t expect me to be in a rush to leave.”

“Whatever, bye.” And you hang up abruptly. 

A grin forms on his face at how you’ll react when he hands them back to you, finding them more soiled and ruined than before.

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

mdni template by @/cafekitsune and other dividers by @/chachachannah

[localplaguenurse]

Casper NSFW Headcanons

I am not immune to the grim reaper babygirl even a little bit. These are more "first time" headcanons.

Mentions of male and female anatomy for MC/reader/you, dom reader, oral (giving and receiving), a lot of teasing/praising, and inexperienced Casper, topping and bottoming. Also, this gets fucking LONG. REALLY LONG. Honestly should've just written actual smut but the voices told me to write headcanons...

NSFW CONTENT BELOW CUT, 18+ MINORS DNI, RESPECT THE HONOUR SYSTEM

Since Casper has never fallen for a mortal before and is/was a workaholic, he’s inexperienced in all matters of intimacy, especially physical.

Like, if you’re not his first kiss then you haven’t kissed him yet levels of inexperienced.

The first thing you two do, after you’ve pushed him down on your bed with glee, is kiss. And it’s okay! He has really soft lips, and it’s a simple peck, so not a lot to mess up there.

It’s when you try to do deeper, longer kisses that his inexperience shows.

Should he be tilting his head more? Should he push more against you- oh god there’s your tongue, in his mouth, feeling around, does he do the same? Where does he put his hands? 

You have to really walk him through it and be patient about it. His tongue work is going to be awkward and sloppy, and you’re gonna bump teeth the first couple times, but he’ll eventually get the hang of it. 

You’ll also have to remind him that he’s allowed to pull away so he can breathe. His face is cute when red, but you don’t wanna see if it’s just as cute when it’s blue. (I mean, it’s not like it’ll kill him, but still...)

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think his flushed face, wet lips, and panting were cute though. 

Hickies are fun. It’s super easy to leave teeth marks and suck bruises on his pale skin, and it’ll make him whimper as you do. Tease him about how flustered he is over a couple love bites, and he’ll get pouty and deny it. 

In fact, he’ll wanna mark you up as revenge, but he also just only learned how to kiss like ten minutes ago so he’s gotta learn how to give hickies too. He gets frustrated when he sucks on your skin but not enough to leave a lasting mark. That said, it is fun to do, and your skin is so soft against his tongue and lips, so he’ll keep trying. 

He sits back all smug over finally leaving a bruise, but his neck is covered in teeth marks and bruises. Please, please bully him about that. 

I need to stress this right now: you can tease and bully him as much as you want, do not degrade him.

The harshest name you can call him is a slut, but it has to be wrapped in praise (i.e. “such a good little slut…”). You could probably get away with calling him pathetic in the heat of the moment every now and again, but that is it. He will not react well to degradation. He wants and needs to be praised.

Play with his hair. Pull on it so you can tilt his head back and leave kisses all over his neck and jaw. Kiss up to his ear to tell him what a good boy he’s being, your sweet little reaper. He’ll melt right then and there. 

Constantly feeling you up, it’s both his attempt at teasing you (especially with his cold hands) but mostly just him trying to figure out what he’s doing. If you tell him he’s not allowed to touch you, then he’s gonna be white knuckling the sheets. 

Another easy way to get some really pretty noises out of him? Play with his chest and nipples, they’re very sensitive. 

He’s ashamed at how easy it is to get him hard. You don’t have to do that much. Just straddle him and make out with him for a bit, let him touch your body or play with his hair. You’ll feel him press against you in no time, and he’ll whine at the friction of his pants against his cock.

Just whatever you do, don’t touch it. Don’t feel it, don’t rub it, and absolutely do not grind against it. Not unless you want him to cream his pants immediately. (Let's be honest: you do.)

Actually, you won’t even need to touch him to make him cum. All your teasing, your kissing, touching, the warmth of your skin and smell of your shampoo and your hands running through his hair and the sound of your voice, it’s too much.

You’ll feel his hips jerk and back arch, and he’ll make the prettiest little noise you’ve ever heard. It’ll take you a moment to realize what’s happened, your eyes trailing down to see the wet spot where his cock is pressed up against his pants. 

When you do finally let his cock out, it’s rock hard, dripping precum, flushed a pretty shade of pink and has a patch of white hair at the base. He keeps it well maintained, which you shouldn’t be surprised by considering his thorough skincare routine. 

Any and all bravado is out the window the exact moment you touch his cock. Whatever insult or snarky comment he had on his mind or smug look on his face is immediately gone once he feels your fingers graze it. 

You can tease him as much as you want when he’s like this and he won’t do anything about it. Can’t do anything about it. He’ll be a whiny mess for you whether he wants to be or not, but in the moment, he doesn’t care as long as you touch him. 

It won’t take much to make him cum, just pump your hand up and down while you kiss and bite at his neck, and tell him about how cute he is right now, how good he is, how he can just relax because you’re gonna take such good care of him. 

The only reason he doesn’t immediately cum is because he’s masturbated to the thought of you before so he knows what it feels like, but his “self care” is nothing compared to you yourself actually touching him. 

He will immediately cum if you go down on him. With your hand it was one thing, but your mouth is so warm and wet and your tongue feels so good he can’t hold back. 

His hips will buck up reflexively, shoving himself deeper inside by accident as his cum shoots down your throat. He’ll babble apologies profusely for it but is immediately cut off by his own sobs when you keep going.

God it would be so fun to overstimulate him. He’d be crying, tears in his eyes, babbling about how it’s too much, it feels too good, and his body’s shivering and writhing because it doesn’t know if it wants to get away or if it wants more. 

Edging would also be fun, just to hear him whine and beg for you every time you brought him to the edge, only to slow down and pull back. He’s pleading with you to let him cum, please let him cum, he’ll be good, please. How can you say no to that face?

Since you’ve treated him so nicely, it’s only fair he returns the favour and goes down on you too, right? Right. 

You’ll have to talk him through it, how you like to be touched. Go ahead and grab his hair, use it to really guide him by pulling his face closer to your sex. If he’s not all mushy by that point, he’ll tease you about being needy for him (like he’s one to talk…).

Sucking cock is simple enough, though you can see in his eyes he’s a little nervous about it. He’ll slowly pump his hand up and down as a tester, gauging if you like what he’s doing and if he should go faster. He’ll then stick his tongue out and hesitantly lick the tip, and that surprised look on his face when you moan is to die for.

It’s enough of a push that he’ll take the tip in his mouth and lightly suck on it while stroking you, and every time you groan about how fucking good his mouth feels, it encourages him to take more of you in his mouth.

Be vocal with him, but most of all, be patient. Tell him what he’s doing right and what you want him to do, guide him by his hair if you wanna, but don’t expect him to be ready to deepthroat you yet. He’s still gotta work on that, so just savour the feelings he’s giving you now.

Let him know when you’re going to come, and more importantly, where, because otherwise he won’t know what to do. If you don’t wanna cum in his mouth, he’ll pull himself away and keep jerking you off until you cum. Try not to cum on his face, as tantalizing as the sight is. You can maybe get away with it once on purpose, or if it’s an accident.

Casper’s not a spitter, but he’s not a swallower? He actually doesn’t know what to do when you cum in his mouth. He’ll literally sit there with his mouth full and dick hard just staring at you until you either tell him to swallow or give him something to spit in. Call him a good boy when he swallows. Or if he doesn’t. Just call him a good boy either way.

It takes him some time to figure out how to eat you out right, but luckily for him it still feels really nice when he’s practicing. 

His fingering technique needs a little work, mostly because he’s very unsure of himself. One’s not enough, two looks and certainly sounds good on your end, does he need to add more, or will that hurt? He wants to make sure he’ll fit when he gets to the big finish, but three fingers feels excessive, unless you like that? Is he going too fast, too slow, too deep, not deep enough? Does he curl his fingers here? Oh, you squeezed his fingers just now, that means he’s doing something good, but what’s he doing?

Thank god for the clitoris. Finds it without you having to guide him because it’s literally at the top, it’d be harder not to find it. All you need to tell him is your preferred pace and he’ll rub at it with ease, taking immense pride at how quickly you fall apart with that dumb little smile. (Just ignore him grinding against the bedsheets or stroking his cock, he’s totally in control right now.)

Kinda like with giving head, he starts with little kitten licks to your clit before getting more confident as he listens to your moans and praises. He’ll especially love it if you push his face into you so he can suck and lick harder. He’ll groan against you unintentionally, but when he hears the sound you make at the vibrations of his mouth, he’ll latch onto your clit and start humming and sucking as hard as he can.

Loves the feeling of you cumming on his tongue. The way your hips buck up, the way you tighten your grip on his hair, grinding against his face, your juices slathered all over his lips and tongue, gods he’ll never get over it. He’ll clean you up with his tongue and sit up, trying to look smug, but he’s not fooling anyone with the flushed face, the hearts in his eyes, or the wet patch on the front of his pants.

He’ll think you’re weird if you wanna kiss him after he goes down on you, but quickly shuts up once you plant your lips on his. Your tongue in his mouth is a very compelling argument.

Now comes the part he’s been most excited and nervous for; actually being inside you.

You are taking the lead regardless, because he doesn’t know what to do. Well, he knows, but he’s not fully confident in his abilities.

Just lay him back, tell him all he has to do is relax. You’ll take such good care of him.

He is tense when he feels you straddling him, your bare sex rubbing up against his teasingly. He wants to tell you to get on with it already, but his mind is in a daze and the only thing he can focus on is telling himself not to cum yet, you haven’t even put it in.

He’s gripping your bed sheets or your hips as tight as he can when he feels you finally start to sink down on his cock. He can cover his mouth, grit his teeth, whatever, but you KNOW that boy is whimpering inch by inch.

It’s enough that once you actually make it to the base, he’s reduced to the most pitiful mess of a grim reaper, trying so hard to keep what little composure he has, and the two of you have hardly started?

He will not last long in this state. The feel of your tight warm walls hugging around him so tight, and the way you move up and down his length is too much for him to handle.

He’s sorta sensitive about how quickly he cums, so you have to be careful about how, when, and if you tease him about it. You can tease him when he creams his pants, so long as it’s along the lines of “you feel that good already?” 

When he cums prematurely inside you, be gentle with him, coo in his ear that it’s okay, it happens sometimes, you’re happy you make him feel so good, he’s being such a good boy for you.

And then you milk that poor boy for everything he’s worth. Watch his teary eyes roll back as his hips buck up to meet yours, shooting load after load until you’ve drained him of everything he’s got. He’ll be incoherent, sobbing and muttering “please please please” because it’s the only thing he’s able to say.

Hold his hand.

As if this google doc I’m writing in isn’t long enough, let’s talk pegging.

He’s going to be nervous about bottoming, he won’t even pretend he’s not. He doesn’t really know what he’s getting into, but he’s willing to try so long as you talk him through what you need to do.

In theory it’s all good, until he has your fingers thrusting into his hole, pressing into his sweet spot while you purr in his ear about all the things you’re going to do to him tonight. He really should have seen that coming considering it’s his Sunshine we’re talking about here, but he’s in too much pleasure to complain.

He’ll be too embarrassed to be face to face with you, so you suggest doing it from behind. Again, great in theory, until you have him face down ass up with your chest to his back. This position is arguably more embarrassing, but Casper is also stubborn and at least you can’t see his face.

Kiss all over his neck and shoulder blades and along his spine, it’ll make him shiver.

You have to take it really slow at first, of course. It’s his first time doing something like this, and you don’t wanna hurt him. Once you’ve slowly inched yourself to the base, give him a minute to get used to the fullness.

You’ll start slow and soft, but you don’t have to stay that way. In fact, he’ll love it if you start going faster, harder, deeper. He wants to feel you hit his prostate again and again, making him see stars every time you do.

You don’t even need to touch his cock, he’ll be falling apart anyways with the way you fuck him, but it’s so fun to overstimulate him anyways so go ahead, jerk him off while you do it.

He’ll try to muffle his sounds in the pillows. Sure, you can let him because it’s honestly really cute, but you can also pull him away by either tugging his hair or grabbing him by the jaw and lifting his head up. He’ll be a drooling, teary eyed mess, but he’s your teary eyed mess. Make sure you tell him that.

If you can, don’t be shy filling him up either. When he’s all fucked out, the feeling is absolutely addicting. Will probably get grumpy about the mess once he’s in a clearer headspace, but he’s also not gonna tell you to stop.

Oh, he’ll be nothing but mush when you two are done the deed. Not only is he too tired and blissed out to move, but he’ll be so cuddly and sweet, murmuring about how much he loves you and how good you are to him, for him. (He will vehemently deny he was that sappy once he’s snapped out of it though.)

Cuddles are absolutely mandatory post sex, he needs a little skin on skin time and to relish in the afterglow before the two of you get cleaned up.

It’s as you two are huddled together under the covers, about to fall asleep, that you hear Casper groggily mumble a little “thank you,” for treating him so well for his first time and showing him the ropes.

He’ll smirk at you and say that next time he’s going to use his knowledge against you, but both of you know that it doesn’t matter how experienced he is, it’s not gonna happen. 

You don’t get the chance to poke fun at him about it though, as he’s already fallen asleep. You kiss his forehead and cuddle up closer.

[chelseeebe]

jinx

18+ mdni. no smut but eddie is a grade a asshole to poor reader. mentions of weed and alcohol throughout. eddie munson x fem reader.

a/n: first off, anon i am sooo sooooo sorry it has taken me this long to fulfill your request!! i absolutely loved this request and am absolutely honoured that you came to me for it<33 i hope i've done it justice and that you still care to read this:') side note, i've updated my masterlist as i have slacked a bit but everything should be on there now ^.^

love me some chelseeebe angst—imagine fuckboy!eddie plays at the hideout right like regularly. reader starts frequenting his show days bc she likes him obviously but he starts noticing something. every time she comes in, something goes wrong. either he messes up a chord or cant see to flirt properly therefore no one ends up warming his bed as of late or something of the sort

his immediate first thought is ‘she’s a jinx!!!’ bc what other explanation could there be in his boy brain??? so he asks her to stop coming in. she does and yet he continues to mess up bc all he can think abt is her.

itd be so sexy if u added a moment of realization/angry love confession where in the middle of him being like you’ve bewitched me or something!!! he realizes hes the one obsessed with her.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the party hums on in the background, a small group gathered outside to rob eddie blind, smoking away his entire supply. 

robin giggles nonsensically into steve’s shoulder, too high for her own good. 

“if you’re gonna smoke all my shit, the least you can do is come watch us tomorrow,” eddie had been nagging his friends to come down the hideout for months. they’d gathered a solid crowd now, not much but it was a start. 

robin groans, nancy and jonathan shift in their seats, steve can barely muster enough energy to reply and argyle snores. hardly enthusiastic about his dreams. 

“i’ll come,” you offer, bright-eyed as you smile politely at him from the floor. 

a friend of a friend, someone robin met in class and had dutifully introduced to the group. he didn’t know you well, nor had he ever really cared to. 

“i don’t think you’d like it, sweetheart” eddie retorts, flattered that you’d try and spare his feelings but he didn’t need your pity. 

“why? you can’t be that bad,” chuckling quietly to yourself. 

his eyes narrow, scoffing, “we’re not,” misunderstanding, or maybe just not caring to humour you back, “come if you want,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not as if any of his friends had offered to attend. 

“okay,” nodding along, “i will.” 

“alright,” turning his attention back to the embering joint glued to argyles fingers. 

who cares if you come? eddie certainly doesn’t. 

-

sure enough, the same couple dozen old drunks fill the bar, their glossy, zombie-like eyes stare back at him from the floor. he’d complain but beggars can’t be choosers and all that. 

they’re partway through the second song when something reflects in his eye, a low-cut sequinned top that would definitely look better on the floor of his van. 

it’s only when his eyes travel up that he realises it’s you who’s wearing that shirt, already looking straight back at him. a newfound look about you, thick lines of black line your eyes, worlds apart from the mousy girl who’d invited herself last night. 

“and we’re-,” he sings, an abrupt case of dry mouth as the next line struggles to come out, “we’re.. uh,” the entire song erased from his memory within seconds. 

he steps back from the mic, blinking rapidly in an attempt to trigger his voice though all he can see is you and that ridiculous top. 

gareth’s head whips round, still strumming along before picking up eddie’s slack, continuing the lyrics on his own, not without a damning glare in eddie’s direction. 

holy fuck. 

he’s just, taken aback, that’s all. shocked that you’d even bother to come, less so put the effort in to actually look the part too. 

his eyes don’t leave the back wall for the rest of the gig, practically stumbling through all of the songs as his head threatens to wander. trailing back to you only as they finish, walking off stage to down the harshest whisky the bar would allow. 

you saunter over a couple minutes later, while eddie tries his hardest not to stare right down your shirt. he’s not certain that he won’t choke on his words if you speak to him. 

“you were really good tonight,” you assure, smiling softly as his band mate turns to gawp. 

“uh, yeah.. thanks,” eddie fumbles, gripping the neck of his beer bottle, “thanks for coming.” 

there’s an aura surrounding you, like a wretched spell you’d evoked in him, turning him to a bumbling fool. 

“i’m gonna head out..” gesturing to the door, “see you around,” waving your fingers coyly at him before disappearing. 

his eyes linger at the door, wondering if maybe you’ll turn around and come back. not that he wants that. just curious as to why you’d come out just to see him play. 

“now who the hell was that?” jeff ogles, receiving a swift elbow to the ribs from eddie and a loud oof as he clutches his side. 

“a friend of a friend,” brushing him off, “don’t be weird about it,” jumping the gun to squash any sorts of ideas festering in his mind. 

“you’re the only one being weird about it,” jeff retorts, grabbing his beer and shuffling off. 

“i’m not being weird,” eddie calls from behind, “i’m not!” 

okay maybe he was being a little weird. 

who cares? 

definitely not eddie. 

-

this week, he feels more prepared to see you nodding along in the crowd, robin had joined you albeit looking less than impressed. 

eddie’s killing it, at least he thinks. avoiding looking anywhere in your direction, keeping his gaze on the stumbling drunk at the back instead. 

but the thoughts of you can’t help but creep into his mind, were you enjoying it? do you think he’s bad? why does he even care so much? 

his hand slides down the neck of the guitar, playing the wrong chord entirely, his fingers curating a mind of their own. 

fuck fuck fuck. 

why does this keep happening? 

gareth glares at him again, he had never been so frustrated with his idiot bandmate in his life. sure eddie liked to dick around in rehearsal but never on stage. 

if eddie ever wanted a career in music, he needed to get a monumental grip on himself. weird girls he barely knew should not have the capacity to ruin his career. 

after they clamber off stage, eddie makes a point of not going over to the two of you. no, you can come to him. 

though he wishes you’d just be a little faster at it if he’s honest. too busy squished into a booth with one of the younger regulars to care about him. 

heat rises in his chest, searing his cheeks a bright rouge, “-who is that?” gareth interrupts, bumping into his arm. 

“who’s who?” eddie coughs, clearing his throat as his eyes snap back. 

“that girl you’ve been staring at,” peering across the room to get a glimpse. 

“i’m not staring at anyone,” abruptly turning his head in the opposite direction, proving to himself that he wasn’t staring, not really. 

“you’re a liar,” gareth calls him on his bullshit immediately, “go talk to her! she’s hot,” scooting his friend along. 

“no she’s not,” you looked good tonight, he’d give you that, “can everyone please just stop being weird about this? first jeff- now you? honestly, i don’t get it,” working himself into a frenzy over what really was nothing. 

gareth’s eyes widen, scoffing at his melodramatic performance, “alright man.. calm down,” shaking his head in mild disgust. 

eddie was totally calm, you know, apart from his heart pounding in his chest. 

nothing major. 

-

filthy, downright pornographic sounds fill his cramped van, certain that it was rocking side to side with the utter obscenity happening in the back. 

chloe sits atop of his lap, tongues dancing around one another as she glides her hips back and forth. she was a regular, slightly older than eddie, at least he thinks, they’d made eyes a few times but only tonight had he gathered the courage to go and speak to her. 

any other time, eddie would be rock solid, pinning her down and fucking her into the dusty floor. today, it’s just not happening. 

his mind elsewhere, too preoccupied with nonsense to appreciate the opportunity at hand. 

he's thinking about you and the fact you’d left the bar without ever coming over to him tonight. what the fuck was that about? 

had he done something wrong? 

he breaks apart from her mouth, heaving into the tiny gap between them, “i don’t know what’s going on..” he chuckles awkwardly, looking down at his useless dick, “normally something happens by now..” 

she frowns, deep-set, showing her age more than before, “oh.” 

he reaches down, furiously palming his cock through his jeans. 

nothing. not even a twitch. 

he wants to curl up and die. never in his three years of actually getting laid has this ever happened. eddie got hard at the drop of a pin, he’d only have to think about boobs and his jeans would shift. 

so why the fuck wasn’t it working tonight?

“i’m gonna go,” chloe scowls, clambering over his legs, gathering her bag while not even attempting to hide her disappointment. 

eddie shoots up, pathetically crawling after her, desperate not to let her go. 

“it’s not me!” he screams out, watching helplessly as she crawls out of the van, “it’s you!”

no. 

“wait no! shit, that’s not what i meant,” peeking out of the van to find the empty parking lot, zero women to be found, “fuck sake.” 

left to wallow in his self-pity, alone, in the back of his dirty van. 

just as he deserved. 

if this was some karmic intervention, telling him to be a better person, he certainly wasn’t paying it any attention. 

-

another party meant another night of eddie trying to understand why the hell you had such an effect on him. 

it’s not even like you’re doing anything particularly riveting, sat with your drink in hand, nodding along to robin’s story. 

he can’t stand it. 

you have to go. 

maybe not like that, but he had to put some distance between you. there’s no way he could keep his sanity while you were still a constant in his life. 

eddie sidles over, feeling like the smartest guy in the room. he could do this, separate himself from you and your clutches and go back to playing as he once did. 

you smile upon him appearing, sickly and sweet. it makes his heart thump in the weirdest way. 

“oh.. hey,” playing this entirely nonchalantly, “i just thought i’d let you know that we’re not playing next week,” lying through his teeth, guilt ridden but really, it was necessary if he wanted to play a gig without fucking up the entire time. 

“oh,” sounding somewhat disappointed, “okay.. how come?” 

shit. 

he can’t think of a single valid reason as to why they wouldn’t be playing. 

“jeff’s sick.. real bad,” feeling even more guilty for lying about his friends health, wondering if he’s cursing jeff as you did him, “might even be a couple weeks off at this point.”

eddie was a terrible person. 

but so were you. 

bewitching him under some spell, forcing him to play terribly and embarrass himself in front of women 

you’ve jinxed him. a bad omen cursing him to play like a fucking amateur. that’s the only logical explanation his pea brain can conjure up anyway. 

that meant you had to stay away from the shows, from him preferably. 

he couldn’t understand why you have this effect on him, why your mere presence has him becoming a floundering fool. you don’t intimidate him, not even close. 

it’s almost as if he cares too much about what you think, to the extent that he overthinks it so hard that he fucks up. 

a curse that could only be broken with some distance between you. that way he could focus on the show instead of you and your doe eyes reflecting off of the stage lights. 

that’s what he’s praying for anyway. 

-

eddie despises wednesday’s. itching to get his classes over and done with so he can get his small taste of stardom on that tiny hideout stage. 

at some point over the last few weeks of you being an omnipotent presence in his life, he’d grown accustomed to crossing paths with you before the gig. 

crossing campus with your chin tucked down, arms wrapped tight around your books. typically only sharing a smile or a short nod. 

but this week you saunter over, resembling a frightened deer even more than usual. 

he pulls his headphone from his ear, anticipating whatever nonsensical, vaguely cute thing you were going to say. 

“hey,” he nods, a coy smile. 

even now you have his palms sweating, overthinking whether he should’ve said hi or hello instead. 

“you didn’t have to lie to me,” you start, brows furrowed, “it’s fine if you don’t want me to go to your gigs anymore, i don’t care,” a disappointed frown plaguing your normally cheerful face. “i thought i liked you eddie, really- but i don’t know anymore.. you’re not a good person.” 

you turn to walk off before he can even compute your words. 

oh shit. 

“wait!” he calls but it’s useless, “i didn’t- i wasn’t- fuck.”

it was unthinkably cruel, he didn’t think you’d ever find out. and maybe that was his problem, assuming you didn’t care enough to find out. 

guilt addles his chest, weighing heavy on his heart. for good reason too. 

eddie was an asshole. a true, grade-a asshole that wayne would positively despise him for. 

wait wait wait. 

you liked him? 

you liked him?

absolutely not. no way. that wasn’t what this was about.

or it’s not supposed to be. 

no, this was some adolescent feud, a confusing, one-sided, friendship that he couldn’t get a grip on. 

you didn’t like him. girls like you weren’t supposed to. 

-

it’s not at all surprising that he plays like absolute shit tonight too. 

guilt ridden for forcing your hand, for making you look at him like that. as if he were the worst person to walk the earth. 

shit, maybe he was. 

kind hearted people didn’t lie and deceive. no, kind hearted people came to gigs they obviously didn’t give a shit about. kind hearted people feigned interest in boring spiel about weed strains and whatever the fuck else eddie jabbered on about at parties. 

you, you were kind. kinder than he deserved. 

gareth slaps him harshly on the back the second they’re back behind the curtain, a scornful yet pitying scowl on his face, “look man,” he begins, “i dunno what’s going on with you but i don’t know how much longer they’re gonna let us play here if you keep playing like that.”

eddie sighs, because he knows this. he’s well aware that his performances have been lacklustre for weeks now. he just doesn’t really understand why. 

at first he thought it was just because you were there, a distance friend who would feed back to his friends about how good, or bad, he was. 

but that wasn’t it. 

you were there, and then you weren’t. and he still played like shit. 

somewhere entangled deep within his wretched heart, he thinks that maybe he just wanted to impress you. 

a nice girl, cares about her studies way more than he does, pretty too and you didn’t look at him like he was just some out of touch stoner with crazy dreams of his band getting big. 

you were polite, listening to his wacky stories and dreams of playing for thousands, in fact, you encouraged them, more than his friends ever had for sure. 

eddie’s not sure if, or how, he’ll ever be able to make amends for how he’s treated you. 

-

he’s making himself sick with worry. guilt wracking his brain. 

you don’t turn up that night, obviously. 

eddie’s eyes mindlessly search the crowd for any hint of you. his fingers failing to correspond with the rest of band, always playing a beat behind. 

you had infected him, ruined his once masterful skill to just a shell of what it once was. 

he doesn’t lay opportunity for the boys to speak to him again, rushing out of the bar as soon as his guitar is back in her case. 

there’s only one place he can think about going. 

a few months back, you’d hosted robin’s birthday party there and eddie had disgraced your bathroom with a girl he can’t even remember now. 

his fist bangs on the door, hoping the light in the upstairs window was you and not one of your roommates he’d have to shamefully apologise to. 

the orange light cascades over your face, peeking out from the barely cracked door with a frown that would scare any man off. 

“what’re you doing?” you spit, looking backwards in hopes he hadn’t woken the entire house up. 

“listen,” he sighs, “i’m real sorry about.. you know, lying to you,” his shoulders slumped over themselves, “but i just- i can’t fucking play when you’re there, can’t play when you’re not,” sounding utterly pathetic, begging for you to cure him from this sudden sickness. “i don’t know what to do anymore,” dragging his hand over his face. 

rightfully earning his spot as the worlds biggest fucking loser, stood on your doorstep begging for an answer. 

when he opens his eyes enough to look at you, you’re scowling back at him. nothing like how he had planned this situation in his head. 

he’d hoped that miraculously you’d understand, accept his apology and somehow still feel the same as you had. 

because that was it, really. 

too terrified to face the fact that he liked you too. 

somewhere in his heart of hearts he’d known it from the start. that’s why his heart fluttered when you’d volunteered to come or why he’d struggled to even touch anyone else. 

“what do you want me to say?” shrugging, “i won’t come back, that’s fine,” he wishes you’d just follow the script he’d curated for you. 

eddie doesn’t want you to stop coming, he never had. it’s killing him that you even believed that, twisting the knife in his chest further and further the more your bottom lip juts out and your eyes water. 

“actually, maybe it’s best if we don’t talk anymore,” you suggest, throwing him completely off kilter. 

woah. 

that wasn’t at all what he wanted nor was he trying to say. he just couldn’t gather the actual words he needed to express that to you. 

petrified that he’d admit to his feelings and you’d just turn around and laugh, how could someone like you ever like such a cruel man? 

“wait no, that’s not what i meant-,” bargaining with you for a little time to explain himself, though you definitely didn’t owe him any.

“-thanks for coming eddie, i’ll see you around,” flashing him a crestfallen smile before abruptly closing the door in his face. 

-

public humiliation was truly the only way eddie could think to make it up to you. 

well that and maybe a little big nudge from robin. 

he’d rather stupidly asked about you on saturday night, confused why you weren’t there alongside robin, who had very quickly got him in check. 

“why do you think dumbass?” she snapped, snarling her teeth at him, “you were an asshole and now she’s doesn’t want to come anymore,” her glare powerful and harsh, "i'd say you were lucky she didn't punch you in the face."

he’d deserve it. 

it had taken weeks of convincing to get you anywhere near the hideout again. not to mention the hundreds in free weed he’d had to bribe robin with to get her to help. 

you stand in a dark corner, hands folded against your chest, puzzled and irritated by robin’s incessant begging to get you here. 

“there’s someone here that i wanna apologise to,” his eyes don’t find you as easy this time, after weeks of missing your presence, he’s not used to you actually being in the crowd again, “if you know us, you know i can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, uh..” they find you, the lump only growing in his throat, “i’m sorry,” tunnel vision blocking out every other body in the room, “i’m really, really sorry.”

you blink, staring back at him like a deer caught in headlights. it makes him a little bit nauseous to recall how dreadfully he’d treated you, how you deserved absolutely none of it. 

your gaze lowers, and eddie can’t decide how to take it. he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to never forgive him, but he also couldn’t take it if you didn’t. 

his voice cracks a little as he speaks, “this is.. uh, we’re corroded coffin,” stepping back from the mic to gather his thoughts before the drum comes crashing in. 

-

eddie plays the best he’s potentially ever played. 

a force overcoming him to prove that he truly wasn’t as much as a loser as he’s shown himself to be.  

usually, he couldn’t wait to be off that stage and to the bar but today he’s dreading it. 

knowing that you’re somewhere out there waiting for an explanation. 

or maybe you weren’t. he wouldn’t blame you if you’d decided to leave soon after he’d embarrassed himself with that shitty apology. 

gareth runs up behind him, using his shoulders to launch himself into the air, “holy shit! that was amazing!” the boy presses a slobbery kiss to his cheek before continuing, “whatever the hell you did, keep doing it because that was insane!” running off past eddie to grab his weekly complimentary beer. 

a sudden sickness fills his stomach, slyly hoping that he could slip out of here before anyone else noticed him. 

you stand across the bar, waiting to catch his eye with your lips curled only ever-so-slightly. 

eddie’s limbs go stiff, still entranced by your jinx. by you.

your eyes trail away to the door as his follow, shuffling your way through the bustling crowd. 

his legs carry him without a second thought, out into the cool night as his eyes frantically search for you. 

he finds you perched against the crumbling stone wall a few feet from the entrance, just far enough away from the prying eyes of the smoking patrons. 

“i didn’t think you’d ever come back here,” is all he can say, feet trailing along the gravel. 

the streetlight glistens orange from your eyes, staring up at him from your perch, “i didn’t want to,” your smile only growing as he nears, “robin made me.” 

“oh,” it wasn’t as if he didn’t know that or that he didn’t orchestrated the entire thing, it just felt odd to hear it from your mouth. 

“i’m glad i came,” you clarify, allowing him to finally release the breath held tight in his chest. 

eddie dares to move closer, sitting back on the brick just inches away, “yeah?” 

you nod, the great big smile he’d forced away making a return at last, “yeah.” 

suddenly the air feels thick, it was easier apologising on stage, those people didn’t know him, they didn’t care. but now, sat here in front of you, it feels like he’s swallowing knives. 

“i’m really sorry for making you feel that way,” though it sounds meaningless now the damage was done, “i don’t know if you still care about me at all, but i- um,” his throat runs dry, clamping his eyes shut. it felt easier that way, somehow, “i think the reason why i was such.. an asshole,” the light flickers through his eyelids again, deciding that you at least deserved to see him, “fuck,” he exclaims, staring back at your confused expression. 

“it’s okay,” soothing even now, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” a twinge of sadness running through your tone. 

“no, no i do,” eddie persists. he’d fumbled once, he couldn’t do it again. “shit man,” he sighs, “i’m trying to tell you that i like you too, or maybe not too, i know i was an ass and i don’t deserve your forgiveness-,” your lips cuts him off mid-mumble, surging forward to press them against his blathering ones. 

he has to blink a couple times, taking in whatever the fuck was happening to him. 

you pull back, disappointed that his brain had been to fuzzy to focus on kissing you back. too preoccupied with trying not to explode and paint you in red. 

“really eddie.. it’s okay,” returning to your usual reserved self while his brain still struggles to compute. 

“can we do that again?” he asks politely, keeping the bubbling excitement to a minimum. 

you laugh, a real, throaty laugh, something he hadn’t heard in weeks, “only if you promise to stop talking,” leaning in once more, the rigid wall suddenly feeling like it was about to collapse from underneath him. 

your soft, cherry-tinted lips press against his forehead a second time, allowing him to gather his brain from a pile of mush on the floor just enough to actually kiss you back. a tender hand reaching out to caress his stubbly cheek, sending shockwaves through his limbs. 

you’re interrupted again by a loud whoop from behind, robin clapping wildly as she emerges from the bar, “now you two have kissed and made up, can we go home now?” 

[erosastro]

Astro observations 💜✨

💜 Scorpio placements are the types to dish but can’t take. So they’ll be telling you some ish and expect you to take it lightly and laugh but if you do it back to them, they be mad and defensive af😭 and I’ve seen this with so many Scorpio placements it’s insane.

💜Speaking of Scorpio placements, they can be shit talkers too, especially if they have Gemini and Sagittarius placements. Gemini and Sagittarius kind of have that reputation, esp geminis but y’all have no idea how conniving scorpios can be, especially if they feel like they’ve been done wrong/things don’t work out the way they wanted it to.

💜Promise this isn’t a Scorpio roast lol I’ve just been noticing some patterns especially with the whole drake and Kendrick thing 💀

💜the sign you have in your seventh house is who you’ll be naturally drawn to, to some extent your fifth house too (you’d be attracted to them). For example, if you have Pisces seventh house, you’d be attracted to Pisces placements. If you have Capricorn fifth house, you’d be attracted to Capricorn placements. It could also work for the planets in that house. So if you have Sun in seventh in Pisces you could also like Leo placements.

💜Your best friend(s) could either have one or more of your big three in their big three too. For example if you have an Aquarius moon, your best friend could have an Aquarius Sun or Rising. It could even be the exact same placement, so if you have a Virgo moon, your best friend could also have a Virgo moon.

💜Aquarius, Aries and Pisces placements are most likely to experiment with their hair and try wild styles/colours.

💜Saturn in 8th house could mean a delay in intimacy, especially sexual intimacy. It could also indicate a fear of death/losing someone close to them.

💜Chiron in third house can show a difficulty in early learning phases and issues with siblings.

💜Lilith and Pluto in first house come across as very intimidating (they are).

💜Aries and Sagittarius mercuries are some of the most blunt people I’ve ever met.

💜Let me love some Scorpios a bit because I feel like I’ve done y’all dirty I’m sorry 😭🫶🏽 Scorpios are very protective over their friends. If you mess with someone close to them, you mess with them too.

💜Libra, Aquarius and Leo placements like to take random pictures of everything. Their camera roll is probably filled with sunset pics then a random pic of a fire hydrant.

💜I’m still learning about solar return charts but it’s definitely true what they say about a ninth house stellium. You could plan a trip and travel during that year and also consider furthering your education, especially tertiary education. I’ve already planned a trip and am going to do my honours lol.

💜Gemini and Virgo placements love reading. They’re fr proper bookworms. Ruled by mercury, it’s not surprising that they do.

💜Honestly, Sagittarius placements are some of the most optimistic and happiest people I’ve met. (Yes even mercuries). They’re always looking at the brighter side of things and are more of a “glass half full” type of person. I don’t think I’ve ever met a pessimistic Sagittarius placement person.

💜Ruler of the fourth house in the ninth in your solar return could indicate moving away/out of your house and possibly abroad.

💜I’m sorry but Leo placements cannot take a hint 😭 especially if they’re rejected in some way, they’ll still try their luck and flirt with someone even after they’ve rejected them.

💜Venus in 11th have a lot of their friends that develop a crush on them. They’re alluring and unique and it draws a lot of their friends in.

💜Aquarius, Pisces and Cancer placements LOVE the beach. They feel the best when they’re in the ocean.

💜Right then after a lot of debate, the signs that can really hold a grudge are Cancer placements, Scorpio placements and Libras(yes Libras!! Especially Mars, they’ll be hella passive aggressive).

💜Don’t piss off Aquarius placements. They may be sweet but if you ever piss one off, they’ll act like you don’t exist. Especially Aquarius Moon and Mars.

thank you for reading!

[trappolia]

DEUCE SPADE ── hot things he does for you

i. runs a hand through his hair and curses like a sailor when an algebra problem has been bothering him for too long. it messes up all his hard work in maintaining his appearance from this morning, but he’s far too upset to care. this goes for any moment of frustration for him too. sometimes his hair is so messy, you can catch the few strands of faded blond that he had failed to cover up when he dyed his hair before nrc, like the hints of his delinquent past are peeking through in more ways than one. there’s a frustrated look in his eyes that you’re a little guilty to admit you’re attracted to, and the way he spits out words definitely unexpected from an honour student makes your heart race in the strangest way … though, if you try catch his attention, he’s back to the deuce you know ─ wide doe eyes and a little lost. it makes your head spin, in the best way.

ii. takes your bags or anything that looks like it weighs more than necessary and carries them from you without even asking. most of the time this happens mid-conversation, like when he catches up with you at the hallway on your way to your next class. you’d engage in casual conversation, and suddenly he’s gently taking the straps of your bag and tugging it out of your hands, holding it in your stead while never breaking eye contact as he listens to you ramble about crewel's last lecture. and if you hold out your hand for him to give back your bag, he might just flush a little bit red and move your bag to his other side hastily, intertwining your fingers with his as he tugs you along gently to continue your journey, like he'd rather "embarrass himself" by pulling such a bold move rather than letting you carry your own stuff.

iii. always asks if it’s okay to kiss you. you’re sure than a decade could pass by, and he’d still be just as shy when it comes to kissing you. even when you give him your permission, he starts off with a shy brush of his lips against your own, a little peck or two, before diving back for more. he’ll ask every single time too. "are you sure? is it okay? can i really kiss you?" you’re not sure if your heart is pounding because of his lovely consideration of you or the fact that he can never find it in himself to stop asking for more once you let him have it the first time.

iv. starts bringing along his old leather jacket for you when you visit his hometown in the early spring or autumn. he says he brings it just in case you get cold, but you’re not oblivious enough that you don’t notice how the street punks keep their distance after doing a double take when they see you clad in the deuce spade’s leather jacket– some of them even offer their help with your groceries without being asked. it’s sort of funny and actually rather helpful in keeping out of trouble, but at the end of the day, you realise that deuce doesn’t see draping his old leather jacket over your shoulders as an act of possessiveness, but rather a way to keep you safe and protected in a subtle way. somehow, that sends your heart racing even more than the thought of him being possessive over you.

v. has an entire section of notes in his phone dedicated to you; like his regular school notes, messy and disorganised, but they’re filled with everything you could imagine. general things you like, little details of his day that reminded him of you, songs to put in playlists for you, and even pictures of stuff that you looked at while you were grocery shopping together. it’s complete with little observations and notes like they like to have the window seat but don’t want to bother people by asking, so let them board first so they can take it for themselves or they seem to like this type of snacks. maybe ask mom to send some of that one brand from the store back home in her next package. it’s the little but dedicated actions that show how much he really cares for you.

© trappolia 2024

[dreamwatch]

Turn The Page

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #30 - Prompt: Fame and Fortune | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: implied alcoholism | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: mild angst with a happy ending, future fic, they’re in love your honour, Eddie’s over it

Again, another iPad entry so hopefully no typos but… who knows!

The moment Eddie gets off the stage Steve knows something is wrong.

The twenty-first had been hard, a day of press, of meet and greets, of things Steve asked Eddie to cancel. ‘It’s easier to just do it’; it’s not though. It never fucking is. The press and the fans get a Diet Eddie, and Steve ends up with an angry drunk in his bedroom. But they power through it. They always do.

 Steve goes to special shows now, wouldn’t have come to this one but it’s the twenty-seventh, and what’s more special than knowing your boyfriend is still alive?

Eddie practically throws his guitar at his tech as he rushes off stage, rushing past everyone, Steve included.

“Eddie?” he calls out.

The rest of the band get off the stage. “Eddie!” Jeff shouts from behind him. “The encore!”

But he’s gone, down the labyrinth of hallways, the crowd still cheering for more.

He doesn’t shower, doesn’t grab his shit from the dressing room, just walks out of the back of the venue to their car,  Steve running behind him. The car isn’t ready, they’re not expecting him for another thirty minutes at least, and it’s a confused mess of security and crew, frantic radio messages.

“Eddie, what the fuck is going on?” Steve asks, taking him by the elbow. He gets a tight head shake as a reply.

The car ride is silent, the smell of cooling sweat blending with the air con blowing full blast at them, and when they get to their hotel room, Eddie heads straight to the phone.

“Hi, can I get room service to the Junior Suite?”

Steve just gawps, he feels like he’s losing his fucking mind.

 “Uh… can I get… do you have pineapple? I’d really like some pineapple actually. And a bottle of champagne… whatever you think is best, oh and hold on,” he says covering the mouthpiece with his hand. “Do you want anything?” 

He sounds manic, so off, so not his usual self. Wild in a crazed way, and it’s scaring Steve. He stands in the entranceway, mouth hanging open.

“Yeah, I want to know what the fuck is going on?”

Eddie blinks.

“And a cheese burger and fries.”

He hangs up and finally peels his t-shirt off, letting it drop to the floor as he walks to the bathroom to shower. The phone keeps ringing, Jeff asking what the hell is going on, their manager, Phil, screaming at him. Eddie wanders in, towel around his waist, another wrapped around his hair. He doesn’t even stop to ask who Steve’s talking to, just gently takes the handset from his hands, places it back on the phone.

The room service arrives and Eddie leads Steve to the dining table, tells him to sit and eat, and then he takes a huge piece of pineapple with him to the bed.

The phone rings again, and this time Eddie rips the cord from the wall.

“Ed, you have got to talk to me.”

“I will. Just let me eat this first. Eat your burger.” 

As if he could.

Eddie sits on the edge of the bed half naked, eating pineapple. Steve’s watched them trash rooms before, true idiot behaviour, but this is probably the weirdest fucking thing he’s ever seen.

There’s banging on the door, Steve can hear Gareth’s voice, then Phil’s again, it’s after midnight now. Eventually they go away.

“You know,” Eddie says breaking the silence. “I don’t think I’ve enjoyed anything in the last few years as much as I enjoyed that fucking pineapple.” He frowns at the half eaten fruit platter, like he’s trying to solve a math problem. 

Steve crouches in down in front of him, his hands gripping Eddie’s knees.

“Bambi, please, what the fuck is going on? I mean, do I need to call a doctor here…? You’re scaring me.”

Eddie looks at him like he’s water on a hot day. 

“What if I said let’s run away? I’ll quit the band, we’ll buy a ranch or a farm. Get out of LA.” His eyes meet Steve’s properly for the first time since he got off stage. “What would you say?”

“I’d say give me ten minutes to pack.”

“Really?”

“Really. Where’s this coming from?”

“I died twenty years ago. And I got a second chance and I took it, you know. We’ve done amazing things. But it’s not fun anymore. It hasn’t been fun for a long time. And life’s too short for that, it’s too short for me to waste it being miserable. And I am. I’m a thing, I’m a commodity. I go where I’m told, I turn up, do my thing. I don’t remember the names of the towns I’m in, I always thought that was a joke you know? It’s not. It’s real.” He laughs, but it’s shallow, his eyes flat. “Who fucking knew?”

Steve gets off the floor and sits beside Eddie on the bed. “Are you serious?”

Eddie doesn’t answer straight away, but when he eventually looks at Steve he nods, and for the first time that day, Steve realises, he smiles. “Yeah. Yeah I’m serious.”

“I hate that you felt this way and didn’t tell me.”

Eddie takes his hand, threads his fingers through, locking them together.

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

This stupid, beautiful man. His everything. His life.

“And the band?”

Eddie shrugs. “They’ll be fine. They’ll get another guitarist no problem. People would kill to join them.”

Steve reaches for Eddie, lays his palm against his cheek, trails his thumb along the silvery thread that runs all the way to his throat, a memory woven on his face. It scares him how close they were to not having this, hits him sometimes out of nowhere. He leans in, his lips meeting Eddie’s, tastes pineapple, tastes home. He wouldn’t deny this man a single thing.

“Alright then,” says Steve says, breaking the kiss with a smile. “I guess we’re going shopping for a ranch.”

[lemmetreatya]

What’s Mine is Mine — Onyankopon x fem!Reader

synopsis: jealousy isn’t usually what onyankopon wears, but tonight he’s wearing it like cologne on skin.

content: afab reader, slight dom!onyankopon, established relationship, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, cowgirl, car sex, they’re just goofy your honour

on the mission to try and make more people fall in love with this man!! we need more ony rep in this fandom puhleassse!! but for now idm being his sole cheerleader! regardless enjoy 🫶🏾💞

It wasn’t often that someone would find the guts to hit on you in Onyankopon’s presence. 

If you were somewhere public and your husband was with you, potential admirers more or less respected his proxemics and didn’t pursue. Still, despite your attachments at the hips, it didn’t deter everyone. 

“Get in the car.” 

The flashy beep of the man’s AMG sounded as he pressed the key for it to unlock. As soon as he reached the vehicle he opened the door on your side. 

Still lagging behind and reluctant to follow, you flailed your hands against your sides. 

“Ony, now you’re just acting up! Jealousies literally written all over your face—“

“I said, get in.”

Yes, it wasn’t often that someone would find the guts to hit on you in Onyankopon’s presence, but it also wasn’t often that someone would try, and that Onyankopon would get pissed at the effort. 

Tonight however, someone had tried it, and unfortunately happened to have caught him on an off mood.  

You stopped trailing behind Onyankopon, standing still within the carpark as you dared to be defiant. Your husband still had a hand on the door, waiting for you to get in, but he didn’t have the restraint to look in your direction. 

“Onyankopon, I hope you know that you’re being overly dramatic. Like it’s really not that deep.” You attempted. 

Despite you having a strong conviction about what you were saying, your words felt lost as you voiced them within the massive open space. Even the cold night air that was whipping against your legs felt stronger than your words. Your midi dress did no justice protecting you from the breeze. 

“He was just being friendly and you know that. Connies a good guy and he’d never go that far without playing it off as a joke — that’s his thing! He’s always joking around and being silly despite everyone around him.” 

You wrap your top limbs around yourself. For warmth, you run your hand up and down your arm due to the wind blowing stronger. 

Onyankopon still didn’t look at you. He only tapped his finger against the top seal of the opened car door. 

“I’m not gonna ask you a second time.” 

His voice was calm but low in pitch. That alone put the fear of God in your heart because you know he was anything but calm. 

At this stage you didn’t dare continue arguing with him. If Onyankopon said get in then you get in. 

A huff leaves your glossed lips once you walk the remainder of the way and slip into the passenger seat. As soon as your foot is lastly in the car, Onyankopon shuts your door with a slam. It was slammed a lot harder than it usually was.  

Onyankopon was clearly not happy. 

And if his clipped commands and door slam didn’t give it away, then the grumbling  complaints he spat to himself whilst he travelled to his side of the car should have given a hint. 

“Fucking think he is touching all up on my wife like that?…” 

Subconsciously your body slinks into the chair. Not out of fear for yourself, but for Connie, because you know he’s done fucked up this time. 

When Onyankopon gets into the car and shuts the door besides him, the first thing he does is get out his phone and starts rapidly texting away at the screen. For awhile, the only sound within the small space is the frantic clicking plops of his keyboard. You ignore it at first, because maybe he’s quickly catching up on any missed calls or texts he’s ignored whilst within the function. 

But it’s once you hear him mutter “and i’ll…fucking show you…what it means to…mess with my shit.” under his breath, that you realise that he wasn’t writing a work related text. 

“I hope you’re not threatening him over message—“

“I’ll do whatever the hell I want to someone who doesn’t know how to keep their hands to themselves.” 

A loud groan leaves your throat. 

You guess even a rather amicable and easy going man like him had his moments. 

“Baby, come on.” Your hand stretches out to rest atop his thigh as you soothingly rub it up and down his suit pants. “He really ain’t worth it.”  

Automatically, a defence in Onyankopon’s demeanour had broken down. You know it had because the tight knot that sat between his eyebrows started to dissipate. 

“That’s not the point,”

He retorts back, his thumbs still tapping at the screen albeit slower. 

“Connie knows not to push it with me, I’ve warned him about this before.”

A lot in you wanted to role your eyes because trust a man’s hubris to find a way to make everything about him. But you decide against it — the last thing you need was your husband to be mad at you too. With a soft squeeze at the meat of Onyankopon’s thigh, you pout over at him. 

“But it’s not like he did it to spite you. Connie ain’t got the brains to do that.” You chide. 

Onyankopon shrugs as his eyes stay focused on his phone, the blue glow reflecting onto his face within the navy-dark car. He lifts a hand to shake his wrist with an erred expression. 

“It doesn’t matter. Whether he intended to or not, he has spited me because he knows full well not to touch my shit.” 

Raising your eyebrows at his choice of words, you can’t but help let yourself smirk. Onyankopon was a possessive man in nature but never in practice — he liked what was his because he knew it was his, he never had to prove it. But with the way he was talking about you, as if Connie could ever be competition to him, made you see him in a different light. 

It looks like Onyankopon was definitely capable of showing jealousy if pushed too far. 

Sitting back, you glide your focus out of the windscreen, your hand still on his thigh. 

“He ain’t touching your shit now though. But then again, neither are you.”

Onyankopon pauses typing. 

He considers your words as they catch him off guard. Placing his phone down, he suddenly turns to you with an impressed expression. 

“Wait, that was actually a real smooth line—“

“It was a good one, right?—“ You cheese. 

“Yeah, like you actually got me there with  that.” 

The both of you chuckle between yourselves, giving the other a fist bump in the process. As the laughter dies down, Onyankopon cocks his head in a quick motion towards his side of the car.

“C’mere.” 

His voice is low like it was before but this time, there’s barely any guile lacing his words. It was this side of ‘calm’ you were waiting for — the light-hearted, love struck version. 

With glee, you’re shuffling onto your knees so that you could climb over the middle console and straddle your husband’s legs. It was never a comfortable fit; your shins always got caught up on the protruding plastic on the side of the car seats. But it was always worth it as you got to see the melting expression on your lover’s face. You’d suffer faint lines of ailment for him any day.

Even before his hands are squeezing the hold of your hips, Onyankopon’s words are tumbling out of his mouth with sincerity. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” 

You shook your head to assure him. 

“Nah, you good. I understand how you weren’t cool with that shit.” 

As your arms wrap between his neck and the headrest, you bend down to place a chaste kiss to the ball of his nose. Although suddenly, your demeanour changes.

“But don’t think you’re getting away with this though! Pulled me outta there like a madman, embarrassing the hell out of me, the fuck?” 

With a mild hump, your palm softly collides with the hilt of his shoulder. 

“Ow!” He shouts. 

“Ow?! That didn’t even hurt you.”

Onyankopon feigns pain as he makes a short loud wailing noise, his hand dramatically flying to where your palm had previously been. 

“Yes it did! Stop gaslighting me! Gaslighting is bad.” 

“Oh, shut—“ You pause, as you momentarily close your eyes and let out a sigh through your nose. “Whatever. Just make sure you find a way to make it up to me.”

“I’ll find a way, don’t worry.” Chides your husband as he leans forwards to surprise you with a kiss — his childish mood suddenly dissipating. 

You quickly accept his affection, your lips automatically pursing in result, but you full well know what he’s got planned in mind. 

“I’m not waiting till we get home for you to make it up to me in bed.” You muse. 

“Good think you’re not gonna have to wait.” 

You pull back to raise your eyebrows at the man but you don’t get the room to say anything else, not when he’s giving you a daring look whilst hooking your already raised midi dress further up your thighs. 

“Up.” 

He instructs, and you listen, because god you could listen to him all day. Slightly raising your ass off of his lap, you allow Onyankopon to pool your dress just above your stomach. Instantly, his hands are carefully caressing the skin of your belly. 

“I do mean it though,” He says as his thumb hooks onto the material of your thong. He quickly lets it go so that it can slap against your skin. “I’m sorry for how I acted tonight.”

“It’s okay, Ony.” You coo. 

Your hands move to caress at the back of his head, your fingers treading across his fade before he continues. 

“I was being a jealous man, you know? Dunno what came over me but…I knew acting out in front of everyone wouldn’t be right so I took you and left.” 

At this point, the man’s fingers had moved to stretching the long piece of your thong between your cunt, his watch trained on how your lips easily sucked them in. 

“Took me and left coz’ you don’t like to share?” You tease. 

“So I could have what’s mine all to myself.” 

His eyes flick upwards towards you but in a manner that could only express wanton lust. 

Hardly any sound passes your lips as Onyankopon moves your thong string to the side and breeches your pussy with two fingers. He swipes it just inside of your warmness but makes sure to keep his other hand sturdy on your hips. But alas, that’s all he does. Barely fingering you as he watches you closely to gauge your reaction. Once you’d had enough of his slow pedantics, you push for him more. 

“Ony, come on, man.” You dutifully huff as you rut yourself against him, your slick juices staining his hands “You’re supposed to be making it up to me.” 

“Mhm.” He hums as his eyes flicker with a glint of mischief. But once you realise he’s only teasing you, you huff once again. 

“Man, you’re so…” 

You attempt to lift yourself off of your husband but once you do, Onyankopons sliding his fingers in deeper. Unexpectedly, a sweet moan leaves your mouth as you pause where you are and look down at where his fingers disappear. 

“I’m so what?” He taunts. 

Nothing is able to leave your mouth in retaliation as you flick your eyes at him with a disgruntled expression. Still, you need him to know that despite him playing inside of you, you still weren’t up for games. 

“Annoying, Ony. You’re annoying.” 

Contrary to your words, angsty moans keep slipping from your throat and Onyankopon can’t help but grin slyly as his fingers continue to work in and out of you. He knows best not to engage with your taunts. 

“Riiiight.” 

Onyankopon’s palms is flat against the lips of your cunt — his fingers buried so deep they have nowhere else to go. As he curves his fingers towards himself, he feels your warm gooey walls clench around him.  

Then and there, the carnal desire he feels at your touch and tinkly moans alters his brain. He needs to have you. 

“Baby, get my cock out for me.” He says with forfeit. 

You comply without needing to be told twice. Your bottom lip is snagged between your teeth as you hungrily unbuckle Onyankopon’s trousers and tug his member out of his boxers. As predicted, it’s already semi-hard. 

From that alone, you already know he’s going to put it to good use. 

Your forehead is placed against his as he wordlessly introduces a third finger inside of your heat. It’s hard focusing on two things at once; keeping your legs sturdy enough for you to hover over him and trying your best to not combust too soon. 

“Don’t make me tell you what you need to do.” He smoothly states as he angles his chin towards his standing cock. 

Even in lust, you still try and give him cheek. 

“You don’t have to make me do sh-shiit.” 

Onyankopon doesn’t give you time to talk back, he’s over it. Instantly his thumb presses at your clit and you keen forwards. 

“Okay, okay, okay!” 

You mutter as one of your hand clamps down onto his shoulders. A giddy hum leaves your throat as you lean forwards to take hold of his dick with your other hand and stroke the length. As an appeasing gesture, you slot your tongue between his lips. 

Your husband entertains you just as well. A smirk still somehow decorates his face as he sucks at your tongue but the action is languid. Onyankopon watched you with a face of adoration as he continues to slowly pump his fingers in and out of your wet cunt. 

“Imma need you soon though…” You mumble against his lips. As your hand swipes over his glistening slit, his thighs tense. “Wanna feel you in me for real.” 

“Of course, boo.” He mumbles back with much assurity. 

Onyankopon pumps you a few times more before removing his fingers from inside of you. He brings them up between your faces and offers them to your lips. 

This, you don’t need to be asked to do. 

Like an automatic button had been clicked on, you obediently unlatched your lips from Onyankopon’s before engulfing his fingers with your mouth. 

Your Iris’ expanded even within the lowly dimmed car as you keep your husband’s eye contact. You lap and lick at his fingers with soft suckling, almost as if hungry to taste yourself. Unsurprisingly you can feel and hear Onyankopon’s breathing tighten and speed up. 

It was the small things that always got to him. 

“Look at you…” He coos with adoration. 

The man uses your distraction and his free hand to guide his dick vertical of your entrance, the head softly gliding between your silky folds. However, as soon as you feel the contact, you momentarily unlatch your mouth from your husband’s hands so that you could concentrate on guiding him inside of you. 

Onyankopon unhands himself but he’s  tormented by how lucrative your actions ate and your seeming willingness for him. 

As his cock breeches your opening, you’re holding back a moan. 

“God, this’ll never get old…” He mumbles.

Onyankopon’s head is laid back against the head rest as his eyes flutter shut and the ball of his throat is exposed. 

You take your time to sink down fully onto his cock. It’s definitely a difference, even with his three fingers previously in you, but eventually you take it. Despite the initial burn of his size, you work it through. You’ve done it many times before so whose to say you can’t now? 

Once he gathers his composure just a tad bit more, he opens his eyes in order to watch you diligently. 

“Whose you’se, baby?” Breathes your husband as he watches you adjust to him.

His hands find their way back to your waist as he squeezes at your flesh — a stimulant in trying to assimilate how good you feel around him. You mutter a curse underneath your breath before answering:

“Yours.” 

And the confirmation through the struggling speech brings an an illicit yet seemingly distressed grin to his face. Not as high and mighty as you were five minutes ago, huh?

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Onyankopon slightly shuffles himself down on the driver’s seat so that he could prop his legs up at an angle and gently thrust into you as he slightly lifts you over his cock. 

The first pull and sink almost makes you moan but you choke on the sound in your throat instead as you only letting out a pained whine. With your back arched, you attempt to ride Onyankopon in sync with his thrusts. If anyone was to simply walk past the front of the car, they’d instantly know what was going. 

Onyankopon can’t help but look up at you in awe, his eyes glazed over in hazed lust but full of an adoration only capable from a man in love. 

“My pretty smile, my pretty pussy, my pretty boo.” He mumbles up at you. “You’re all mine.”

“All yours.” You wetly breathe back before leaning down to lay your forehead just over his shoulder. 

The two of you slow fuck into each other with barely any words exchanged. Its all just a mush of breathing, moans and the beckon of each others name. 

Onyankopon lavishes his hands over the span of your ass cheeks when he’s close. 

“Baby…” 

“Mhm.” You mumble back because you know  the tell-tale signs of his impending orgasm, you can feel the way he holds you closer and practically asks your permission to finish.

As you lean back to angle him deeper inside of you, you half caress his neck and cheek.

“Promise me you won’t…say anything to him.” 

You don’t even have to mention a name for Onyankopon to know who you’re referring to. And you know he tries to fight it because you can feel his grip on your ass get firmer and his thrusts become more deliberate. His lack of reply is a sign of uncooperation. 

“C-C’mon, Ony. You…you have me right now…n-not him…you.” 

Onyankopon’s hooded eyes stay trained on yours.  

“Me.” He grunts. 

“Yeah, you baby. All yours. I’m all yours.” 

Those are the words that send your husband reeling over the edge. His thrusts stutter to a halt and his hip slaps flush against your ass as he gutturally moans into the concave of your neck. You walls clench around Onyankopon’s pulsing cock, the feeling of being filled up immensely satisfying. 

This is how he proves you’re his. 

[redroomwidows]

notes: Sirius x James my love. Sirius and James sweaty and shirtless my love. Sirius and the reader are just as in love with James as he is with them in this. not a lot of quidditch content I'm sorry.

warnings: I can't write flirting, second person, I guess like sexual flirting?? I feel like i've written this wrong idk. reader is referred to as ‘gorgeous’

Poly! Prongsfoot × gn!reader

——-&——-

Dating Sirius Black came with many perks, he was all over you, all the time, and had no problems with PDA, or ‘defending your honour’. A perk you didn’t expect though, was bonding over your crush on James Potter.

James was tall, buff and had dark brown curls you wanted to run your hands through. He was also kind and passionate -

“You two are staring again,” Remus mutters from his spot next to you and Sirius. James had appeared after a nap, his hair a mess and his lips pouted and your eyes had not left him.

When you’d first started dating Sirius, Peter had joked how you’d also be dating James, oh how you both wished that was true. Sirius had been best friends with Jamed since first year, and he’d probably been in love since fourth. You could love two people at the same time, you both knew this.

What you didn’t know however, was that James felt the same way. Well, until he became terrible at hiding it.

You’d first noticed after a Summer Quiditch match, when the entire team had celebrated their victory by lying on the floor and begging McGonagall to pour water on them - she’d refused. Thus after the match, as little clothes as possible were on and Sirius had insisted you stay in his dorm while he showered. When he exited, a towel draped over his waist, two pairs of eyes were on him.

“Both of you see something you like?” he’d joked and while you merely laughed, James blushed and looked down “Prongs?”

“Huh?” he looks up, and then down again

“Are you checking my boyfriend out?”

“What! No-”

“You weren’t? I’m offended, I thought I looked hot,”

“No I mean, you do!” an eyebrow is raised and James scrunches up his face “I’m going to shower!” when he leaves the room, you smirk at Sirius.

Around a month later, after lots of flirting (mainly on Sirius’ end), the Gryffinfdors were throwing a party, And a lot of firewhiskey was involved. James ended up on the sofa with you, his head in your lap, looking at your boyfriend dancing .

James sighs, almost lovesick “You alright there Jamie?”

“He’s pretty,” you smirk and run your hands through his hair

“Yeah, he is,”

“You know he’s finally dating someone?” Oh, he’d got to that stage where he didnt know who you were “And they’re great, they’re really great, as great as Padfoot, and I love him, so they must be really great,” you stay very still, letting him continue “But I still feel jealous y’know, and I don’t actually know who of,”

“Maybe its both of them?” You suggest softly and he nods

“Both,”

Once you’d told a sober Sirius, that had opened up a rabbit hole, a huge one, one which included dates, that weren't really dates, and flirting that definitely was flirting. Sirius liked to make James - and you - blush, and laugh, and very flustered.

As the weather gets colder, you find yourselves in the common room more often, and on Wednesday, you enter and find James and Sirius cuddling on the sofa, this wasn’t new, it was something they’d always done, but today you needed a hug, and it made you slightly upset to see them so content.

“Hey Gorgeous,” Sirius greats and you smile, James waves “You alright?” you shake your head

“Need a hug,” you mumble, James goes to get up but you stop him “Want a James hug,” and so you sit next to him, and climb into his arms, sighing comfortably, Sirius’ hand’s find your hair, and James arms are around your waist. You were tired, tired of pretending that you didn’t like James, that you didn’t know he liked you, that he and Sirius haden’t loved eachother for years.

“James,” You start quietly “Do you remember getting incredibly drunk and forgettting who I was?”

“Uh- No?” you sigh and turn around, your elbows either side of him, you look up at Sirius and wink.

“I do,” and then you kiss him.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “mix of random dialogue and non-dialogue, smut and non-smut” prompts

“I’m a mess because of you.” “You’re my mess.” “I’m… I’m your mess.” (FUCKING HELLO BITCH DO NOT- WLKFNFKLN I’ll get on my knees for you, my love—)

“That’s my baby girl/baby boy.” (Can he just— HEWOQKNFWKELNF) 

“You look so hot like that.”

“God, you turn me on so much.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna come—” Character B whimpers, hips bucking into Character A’s. “Mm, yeah? Then come for me,” Character A murmurs, stroking their fingers through Character B’s hair. (The noises he made as he came undone were SO FUCKING HOT BYE. those WHIMPERS?? FUCKING DELICIOUSSSSS LET ME HEAR MORE OF THEM, I BEG- ALSO WHO KNEW I HAD IT IN ME TO SAY THAT TO SOMEONE LMFAO, “then come for me” WQBHRELWJKNEWF BITCH. GET OUTTT-)

Those sweet little noises Character B tries so hard to suppress but is unable to as they come undone.

“I’m such a fucking wreck right now…”

“Imagine how good I’d feel inside of you.” (FUCKIFKSKSKKSKSKS WHEN HE SAID THAT AND I WAS LIKE LKENFKLEWNF-)

“I love you so much,” Character B murmurs, hugging Character A closer to them. (🥹🥹🥹 HE SAID IT HE SAID IT HE SAID ITTT 😭 He’s said it over text before but now it’s in person and I’m actually gonna WEEP EWKLNFWEEFN)

“I love you for you, and I’m going to continue to love you. I’ll always love and support you no matter what,” Character B reassures after Character A spills out their anxieties and worries to them about a situation they’ve been so, so scared to tell them about; scared of how Character B would react. (…I’m just going to say I love this man so much.) 

“When I first met you, I didn’t know you were like this,” Character A murmurs, slowly grinding their hips down against Character B’s. Character B grins up at them, hands wrapped around their thighs, squeezing gently. “Yeah, and I didn’t know I was like this, either. And I thought you were shy when I first met you... Now look at you, huh?” 

Character A not knowing how sensitive their breasts are until Character B pays full attention to them with their mouth. (…I WILL NOT SAY ANYTHING ELSE BUT FUCK YES—) 

Character A tearing up as they try to be vulnerable with Character B, and Character B reassuring them by telling them they can take their time and it’s okay if they can’t say it right now; that they can say it when they’re ready. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so enamoured by someone,” Character A murmurs, caressing Character B’s face. (I’M A POETIC SIMP, WHAT CAN I SAY—) 

“Fuck, why are you— Mmh— why are you doing this to me?”

“We can take things as slow as you want. I want you to be comfortable, and as long as you’re happy, then I’m happy.”  (PLEASE WJDJJS IM CRYING AHH, how’d I get someone so sweet sjkdms)

“We can rent a hotel somewhere… You can be as loud as you want then, hm?” (HE’S JUST FUCKING OUT HERE, YOUR HONOUR!!) 

“Fuck me,” Character A whimpers as Character B’s hips picks up with speed. “I could if you wanted me to,” Character B grunts. (SIR- FUCK OFF ISTFGGG)

Character B placing their hand on Character A’s thigh while they’re sitting down.

Character B wrapping their arm around Character A’s shoulders and pulling them closer to them, letting Character A rest their head on their shoulder.

Character B leaning in for a kiss and Character A shyly leaning in to give them a quick peck on the lips. 

“Whatever I do, I’ll always be adorable to you, won’t I? Even if I do the most heinous shit known to mankind—” “Yes. Yes, you’ll always be adorable to me.” 

“You sure you don’t wanna close the blinds? People outside could see us…” “Trust me, they won’t.” (this FUCKING GUY, but I guess he wasn’t wrong after I took a closer look at the blinds—) 

“You’re enjoying yourself up there, aren’t you?” Character B teases, watching through hooded lids as Character A rides them while clothed. “Does it look like I am?” Character A questions, breathless. 

“You just… You make me happy.” (YOU DO TOO, MY LOVE <333) 

“You’ve always been so caring and supportive of me so I don’t know why I doubted you… I’m sorry.” 

Character A being ticklish on their neck whenever Character B plants soft feather like kisses there, so Character B plants even more soft kisses there, turning Character A into a giggling mess. 

Kisses on the eyelids. (The softest shit EVER)

“Didn’t realise your objective was to get into my pants all this time,” Character B teases, and Character A rolls their eyes, a breathless laugh leaving them. “You know that’s not true. I think you’re the one who has the objective of getting into my pants,” Character A throws back. Character B shakes their head with a chuckle. “That’s not true.”

“How are we gonna manage being away from each other for a whole month?” Character A murmurs softly. “Mmmh, we’ll somehow manage,” Character B reassures, stroking their fingers through Character A’s hair.

“How are you going to manage without this for a whole month?” Character B questions as Character A grinds down on them. “I don’t think I fucking will is the thing,” Character A admits, unabashedly.

Character B moving Character A’s hair out of their face to plant gentle kisses on their face.

Character B laying their head on Character A’s stomach and Character A fondly saying to them, “You’re such a baby,” while carding their fingers through their hair.

Character B snuggling up next to Character A, post-orgasm. (SIRRRR- PEHFLKEWNELKWNF) 

Character A moaning Character B’s name and Character B losing their self-restraint over it. (Maybe I did it on purpose to turn him on—)  

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

“All your words are but to say…when the men have died in battle and honour, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more.” – Éowyn

We all love this line, where Éowyn is really giving it to Aragorn over the unjustness of her exclusion from battle with imagery that is jarringly evocative. But what if she isn’t just painting a powerful rhetorical picture but is referencing the life of an ACTUAL WOMAN: Aerin of the House of Hador and kinswoman of Húrin (seen in the Silm/Children of Húrin)? What if Éowyn’s language is letting us know that these stories and legends of First Age communities of Men are still alive and well in Third Age Rohan’s oral history traditions?

I love this idea, which made its way to me from @outofangband (who shares a love of Aerin but also knows WAY more about her than I ever will!♥️). For those who don’t know, Aerin lived in Hithlum and was forcibly married to the Easterling leader Brodda after Hithlum fell in the Nirnaeth. She suffered greatly but didn’t let Brodda’s abuse stop her from secretly aiding the remnant of her people who were living then as beggars and thralls. Túrin eventually came to make a bloody mess of it all (as is Túrin’s way) and ran off with many men of Aerin’s community after stirring the Easterlings to wrath. Then Aerin, among the women left to deal with that wrath, lit Brodda’s hall on fire and perished in the flames. Sound familiar???

I simply can’t read Éowyn’s words now without thinking that she knew the story of Aerin and had it in mind as she spoke to Aragorn. There’s already some evidence the Rohirrim are familiar with the history of First Age humans even as they don’t know much high elven lore (I refuse to accept that they got the name “Haleth” by coincidence!), and this seems like an even more direct and natural connection, especially because the Rohirrim are distantly related to Aerin’s Hadorian people.

The thought that the Rohirrim have songs and oral poetry – their means of “documenting” and transmitting history – about these First Age figures is lovely to me. Tolkien makes such a big deal out of how much the elves and Gondorians love and revere lore, how they have libraries full of texts, etc., while positioning the Rohirrim as less sophisticated in comparison (they’re called “unlearned” and Aragorn suggests they barely remember things that pre-date the founding of Rohan itself!). They’re treated as though their lack of books and the fact that they don’t happen to be interested in the exploits of the Númenoreans or the Noldor means that they’re ignorant of everything or don’t care about history at all. But that’s not true!!

They’re absolutely invested in and take care to preserve the history THAT MEANS SOMETHING TO THEM. And what is that? Well, it’s not Fëanor or Tar-[Insert King Here], but apparently it is Haleth and Aerin – women who found different but equally impactful ways to lead their people and resist oppression. And for those to be stories that resonated in Rohan enough to be remembered and passed on from generation to generation makes a lot of sense to me. It’s a land of shieldmaidens, a land where women are still looking for and creating ways to resist and defy, a land where both women and men sometimes have unexpected views about gender roles.

Those are people who would be interested in the experiences of Haleth and Aerin, even as (and maybe especially because) those women aren’t particularly remembered and celebrated by folks like Aragorn or the Gondorians and the elves. Húrin is the man of legend from that time and place to most of Middle Earth, and Aerin lives in the margins of the history just as she lived in the margins of life. But an underdog people will love an underdog story and keep it alive while others have forgotten.

It’s also interesting to consider what “lesson” the Third Age Rohirrim are taking from Aerin’s tale. On the face of it, you might read Éowyn’s words as being scornful of Aerin, as she points to Aerin’s situation as one lacking honor. But I don’t think that means she thinks that *Aerin* is lacking honor. Their situations are very different – Éowyn lives in an unconquered land that is going to battle now to stave off their fall; the main events of Aerin’s story take place in a post-war environment, where there is no battle to be had but just the daily grind of living under brutal occupation. Aerin does everything courageous and meaningful that can be done in her scenario (other characters in the Children of Húrin basically say this, confirming that Aerin is good, strong of heart, and the very essence of righteous defiance), and I don’t think Éowyn finds any fault with Aerin’s choices or behavior. What Éowyn finds dishonorable and inglorious is the circumstance of being forced to live under occupation in the first place. She wants to go to battle so that she is never faced with the life that Aerin had to live. She learned from Aerin’s tale that she’d rather not be the resistance to oppression but instead the conqueror of it.

Anyway. Now I’m just rambling (as is my way!). But if even a hint of this was interesting to you, I urge you to check out @outofangband ‘s blog for all kinds of additional context and detail about Aerin and the infamous firing of Brodda’s hall, expressed in a more articulate way than here! Thanks for sharing this very cool connection with me, friend!