Tumgik
#BUT i do think they could do some WONDERFUL things with the system they already have for making ur brand logos
imawholeassmood · 3 days
Text
Read Between the Lines
read it on ao3
Lena reads the review, rubs her temples a few times, then reads it again. There is no way Super_Girl has rated this book five stars and then wrote multiple paragraphs waxing poetic about how fantastic it was. Lena already submitted her own one-star review which included her breakdown of the writing, the characters, and the plot, of which this book had none.
For months, Lena has been seeing Super_Girl reviews pop up on the same books Lena recently finished. She wondered at this point if Super_Girl might be doing this on purpose – reading the same books just so she could rate the book the opposite of whatever Lena did. At first, it was simple - “Loved it!” or “Couldn’t get into this one,” but as of late, the reviews had gotten longer and more descriptive.
Lena herself always used the same formula for reviewing books: overall star rating with a breakdown of her thoughts on the characters, the plot, and the writing. Books, like most things in life, are easy to rate when you understand the evaluation system. Books follow formulas and rules for a reason – it’s what makes them good. A romance novel, for instance, requires a “happily ever after.” Without it, it cannot be considered a romance, and it certainly wouldn’t be a good one.
So, as Lena reads the latest review by Super_Girl, Lena can’t help but leave a comment. Maybe this person simply needs an education on the book rating system.
“What criteria do you use when rating a book?”
It’s a good starting place for this conversation. Lena has amassed quite the following with people interested in her book reviews and the last thing she wants to do is stir up internet drama to damage her good reputation. She knows how easy it is for people to take something out of context.
The reply comes almost immediately.
“Vibes!”
Lena blinks a few times, then closes the browser and leaves her laptop for the night.
**
Super_Girl does it again with another five-star rating for a book that made Lena seriously consider contacting the literary award agencies to complain about their selection. The book sounded like it was AI generated and had zero plot. And the characters? Don’t even get her started.
“How can you consider this a masterpiece?” she writes under the review. “There is zero substance in this book. It’s just a bunch of flowery words that mean nothing and make no sense. If this is your idea of romance, then I’d hate to be your girlfriend.”
Her phone rings and Lena spends the next hour talking with her assistant, Jess, about the priorities for the week and when they can finalize some presentations. Later, as she lays in bed scrolling on her phone, Lena thinks to check her goodreads account. There, under her latest comment, is a reply from Super_Girl.
“Amidst the turmoil of the crumbling world around them, two people take the time to write love letters to each other. What’s more romantic than that?
I want to meet you in every place I have loved.
I want to be in contact with you.
Swoon.”
Speaking of taking things out of context.
While Lena can see Super_Girl’s point, that’s not enough to change her mind about the book. Especially not in the context of it being a sci-fi fantasy that relegated war to a backdrop in much the same way Hollywood did with Pearl Harbor. Don’t get her started. She types out a response before closing the webpage and going to sleep.
“Relationships develop over time. Even if I agreed with your assessment, this book still lacked any real narrative and there’s zero reason to believe these two people would fall in love. They don’t know anything about each other except that they can write a decent letter.”
**
Oh, no, Lena thinks. Her latest read has her questioning her entire belief system about books. She liked the book. Not because it had a great plot. Not because she was rooting for the characters. She liked the book because…it gave her good vibes. She genuinely had a good time reading it, despite it being a complete shitshow. This never happened to her before.
She opens her goodreads page to leave her review and finds that Super_Girl hasn’t read this one yet. She feels the slightest pang of disappointment but pushes through to her review. At the end of her standard format, she adds a new category: vibes.
It takes a few days, and Lena finds herself checking her account every few hours. She’s sitting at her desk and scrolling on her phone when she gets a notification that Super_Girl commented on her review.
“Vibes?!?! I’m SUPER proud of you! And we agree the characters were awful and the plot was weak, but it was well-written.”
She doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Jess comments about it.
“Oh, nothing,” she says and waves her hand. “Just a literary rival.”
Jess looks at her. “You’re smiling because of…a rival?”
Is that what they were? The word didn’t really feel like a good fit, but Lena goes with it.
“Agreed with me on a point. Can we please stay focused?”
And they do. Lena and Jess go over the latest reports and prepare for an upcoming meeting with one of their international partners. Lena doesn’t think about Super_Girl again until she’s lying in bed and that damn smile creeps backs onto her face.
**
Her next review is not a good one. It makes Lena question the romance genre as a whole. Has the world become so used to being treated like garbage, people can’t even tell the difference between healthy and toxic love?
She’s barely hit submit when Super_Girl comments on her review.
“They were flirting the whole time!”
Lena is still sour enough she doesn’t bother to hold back on her response.
“Flirting where? Being in each other’s orbit is not flirting. Why can’t people just say, ‘I like you and I’d like to go on a date with you?’ instead of whatever BS was happening in this book. Honestly, I’m worried for your love life if you think this is a healthy way to approach communication.”
Super_Girl goes silent for a long while after that.
Lena worries something may have happened and questions whether she should reach out. They haven’t gone this long without a reciprocal review since they started this little dance of theirs almost a year ago. She finds herself rereading their reviews and wondering about who Super_Girl might be behind the screen name. There’s no profile photo, no personal information at all. Just a single word.
Golly.
Lena smiles at that. In fact, she smiles at everything Super_Girl has written. While they may not agree on books, Lena can’t deny that whoever is behind the reviews is a wordsmith who comes across as the sweetest human on the planet.
It surprises her when she receives a notification that she has been selected to read a new release ahead of publication in exchange for an honest review. Lena doesn’t usually agree because she doesn’t want to give people any reason to think her reviews are biased or influenced in any way. She’s about to deny the request, but the cover art depicts two women, one blonde, the other brunette, and Lena never turns down a sapphic story. She accepts the request without another thought.
**
When Lena finishes The Write Stuff, she starts it over and reads it again, cover to cover. The writing, the pacing, and the storytelling are superb. It’s as if the author has studied every article about how a romance novel should be written. The characters are so well written, she has clear images of who each of these women are. She understands their desires, their fears, and their motives. Not only does she care about these people as a couple, but she also cares about them individually in a way she hasn’t cared about a character in a long time. As for the plot itself? It’s perfectly cheesy and still somehow realistic enough to be believable that it could happen in real life.
Lena hasn’t felt this…satisfied by a book since well, since she can’t remember.
So, that’s exactly what she writes in her review.
“I especially loved this line:
I would rewrite history if it meant a chance for a happy future with you.”
When she’s done, she looks up the author and finds that she’s written one other book.
Lena doesn’t recall reading it, but when she clicks on the title, she finds her review posted with a few hundred likes and several dozen comments. One star and zero positive things to say about it. Lena can’t help but think how far the author has come from this first book to the most recent one. It’s an impressive improvement, and Lena Luthor isn’t easily impressed.
Supergirl leaves a comment on her review a few days later.
“It looks like the author has been paying attention to your feedback.”
**
The following week, Lena is staring at the meeting invitation with furrowed brows and a healthy dose of confusion. She presses the call button on the speaker on her desk.
“Yes, Miss Luthor?” Jess says.
“Jess, why do I have a meeting with Supergirl on my calendar?”
Jess is quiet for a moment. She’s quiet so long, in fact, that Lena’s door opens and a blond woman with thick-rimmed glasses wearing chinos and a tucked-in button down steps just inside. She has a nervous smile and fidgets with her glasses.
Lena recognizes her from the photo bio she still has pulled up on her web browser and stands to greet her.
“Miss Danvers,” she says, “please, come in. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Kara Danvers, author of The Write Stuff, who Lena has been internet stalking for the past week shifts in the doorway. Lena comes around the front of her desk. They stare at each other in silence for a moment before Lena hears a faint “go” from Jess in the reception area. That makes Kara shake out of her stupor.
She brings her hand out from behind her back and holds her arm at full length with a bouquet of…plumerias. Lena can’t believe what she’s seeing. Her favorite flowers which represent love and new beginnings are being offered to her by this stunning woman who wrote one of her favorite books of the year. Lena looks from the flowers back to Kara’s face.
“I like you, Lena Reads” Kara says, “and I would like to go on a date with you.”
178 notes · View notes
izgnanik-a · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
MerMay GhostSoap 2
// MDNI // read at your own risk //
“They have me on an 8 hour shift surveying a fish tank!” Johnny muttered incredulously the moment he got back home.
His roommate, bless their soul who’d just gotten up for work, was brushing their teeth and humming in bored agreement.
“It’s nothing but darkness in there. And- and the water’s cold! What kind of fish survives cold water?”
His roommate shrugged, spitting into the sink.
“My whole shift, I couldn’t have my phone on me and there was seemingly no one else in the building but one other person at the door. And he and this other guy have it out for me.”
“Why would,” spit, “they have it out for you?” Slurp. Gargle. Spit. “They don’t even know you.”
“Exactly! But they all think that I’m not going to stick around.” Johnny muttered. “They keep saying I’m not going to last long, but I’ll show them.” He huffed in annoyance. “I’ll do it out of spite.”
“To be honest, the whole thing sounds sketchy anyways. They didn’t give you any information. Just put you in a room with a- fish tank?” His roommate furrowed their brow in confusion. “And said nothing else?”
Johnny shrugged.
“I’d quit.”
“They pay for breaks and accommodations. The only reason I’m getting paid cash right now because they said I’d last a week. So it’s standard to see if I stick.”
“Who says?”
“The guys who want me to quit. It’s happened before.”
“That’s fishy.” His roommate pointed at him.
Johnny pointed back. “Rent’s due.”
“I’ll take it.” They rolled their eyes. “But first sign of something illegal and you burn your bridges. I’m not living out of suitcases on the run because you decided to steal government property.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
x
Come night and Johnny was parking in the lot, past the gates, and coming up to the entrance he’d been guided through the day before. He swiped his keycard, given to him at the end of his shift, and stepped through the empty hall.
He wondered if he’d see someone else along the way, or if it’s be another dreary night. He also wondered if he could sneak his phone into the tank room.
“You.” Called a voice from behind MacTavish as he stepped into the break room. He turned, almost expecting to see nothing but a ghost calling to him. But instead, he was greeted by the friendly face of a stranger.
“Hello?” Johnny paused in the doorway. “Can I help you?”
“You’re the new overnight guard.” Said the man, more of a statement than a question.
“Yeah? Do I know you?”
The man held his hand out. “No. Kyle Garrick. I work the septic system and tank management.”
Johnny shook his hand, the first inviting person he’d met. “Johnny MacTavish.”
“To be honest, I didn’t think you’d come back another day.”
“Haven’t seen reason to turn it down.” Johnny said, moving to his locker, Kyle following, “Though everyone seems to have some bet on me leaving.”
“Don’t take it personal.” Garrick leaned against the lockers with his arms across his chest. “They’ve seen a line of people who didn’t make it past the first night.”
“Hard not to.” Johnny slung his lanyard around his neck as he finished putting his things away.
“Note to keep in mind: don’t keep the lanyard around your neck. It’s a choking hazard.”
Johnny furrowed his brow at Kyle. “A what?”
“It gets caught on things easily. Or worse.” The tone of his voice was eerie, but he refused to speak on it. Garrick showcased his lanyard strapped hanging from his side pocket, unclasped. “Keep it on you, but not around your neck.”
“Noted.” Johnny tucked it into his breast pocket and shut his locker. “Any reason why I’m watching the fish tank anyways? Is it the minister’s secret hobby or something?”
Garrick dropped his arms from his chest. “Not the minister’s. Shepherd’s.” He kept his voice low, as if there were eyes and ears all over. “Best to keep your head on a swivel, yeah?”
“Sure?” Johnny trailed off.
“I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Are you working tonight?”
“I’ve already finished. The tank should be a smidge cleaner. I don’t stay on site much, just clean it out twice a week.” Garrick put his fist out to bump. “Stay safe.”
Johnny met him half way, and watched him head down the hall he’d come up. With even more confusion in mind, he headed towards his hall.
He spotted the same guard from the night previous. “Quiet night?” Johnny snapped his finger guns at him.
The guard said nothing.
Johnny raised his brows and sighed, plucking out his lanyard from his pocket. “Hopefully the shift goes by quick.” He tried at conversation once more.
The guard pressed their keycard to the scanner as Johnny did, and the alarm blared as the steel doors came open.
Giving a mock salute, Johnny stepped inside and moved for the desk as he slung his lanyard around his neck. He glanced back as the door came closed.
As far as he could tell, the tank hadn’t changed one bit. It was still dark and cold, maybe even colder than before. Pressing his hands to the glass, he peered through the dark water. He knocked his knuckles against it, listen and looking for movement.
He shook his head, moving for the coffee maker on the desk and turned on the lamp. He wished there was a radio somewhere, or some form of entertainment besides the surveillance room. He opted to stay out of there, but did glance in there once or twice the previous night.
Coming to stand before the panel of CCTVs, he stared at the individually. One camera was situated outside the steel doors, another in the back corner facing the table. One watched him from the corner of the armored surveillance room, and another pointed directly behind the table and tank. There was a single camera that was new to him.
It was a small room with a short ledge following the wall, leaving a foot of space between the obstacle. Beyond the short ledge was nothing but a black void, within that void reflected the ceiling light, an eerie yellow color splashed onto the surface of stillness. A mesh net hung lazily over to keep the aquatic life from jumping out. The only entrance was a door with the faint, low quality words ‘EMPLOYEE ONLY’. No windows. No emergency exits.
The floors has a sheen of wetness to them, footprints left by its last occupant.
It was another room leading into the tank. It must’ve been a place above it, where Kyle could clean and empty it out. A place where only he had access to.
Johnny wondered if he would ever see what was inside of the tank. He wanted to know what Shepherd was so enthralled by to have so many people watching, waiting for something to happen.
x
Johnny's dinner consisted of a ham and cheese sandwich that was as bland as the night. Tasteless, he didn't even feel like wasting another second eating it. As far as he knew, there wasn't any vending machines on the premises, so he wasn't going to find luck getting another bite.
However, his mind began wandering. Wondering where the other side of the tank could possibly be. He wouldn't necessarily go inside the room, he was just curious, bored out of his mind. He knew going through the doors he'd come through wasn't an option without question.
The only other door in the area was a side door that looked more like a closet than an exit. He proceeded towards it, giving the door a tug harder than he meant to, and it practically fell off it's hinges. He grimaced, looking behind him as if someone were ready to scold him with a wooden spoon in hand.
There was no one. He was safe, for now.
Up ahead of him, past the small door, there was a long hall unlike the room or the building alone. The hall was dark beyond compare, orange bulbs sparsely lit the corridor. Thick piping bordered the wall alongside the tank, giving a gentle heavy hum as he stepped in. He felt the pit of his stomach deepen, an uncanny feeling dwelling in his body as he ventured forward.
He should turn back, right? He should.
He looked back to the sanction of the whitewashed room, and continued into the dark corridor. He moved slowly, hearing droplets of water dollop from the walls and ceiling to the floor like great crashing waves within the pin drop silence. Everything felt amplified — his fear, his mouth breathing, the drips of water, the pipes groaning at his right, and the darkness overcoming his vision as he came to the end of the corridor.
A darkened boiler room sat within.
A flickering light beckoned him to his right, up a skinny metal stairwell. He stared at the ‘EXIT’ sign as he clasped the railing, that dead fishy smell growing stronger here. He gave a nod to himself before peering around the corner of the stairwell, a dirty white door waiting up ahead. A dead bolt latched over.
He was psychotic. He needed this job. He needed to go back to just sitting in his chair and minding his business.
But the door.
The ‘EMPLOYEE ONLY’ door above the tank. He needed to know what Shepherd was having him watch.
“If it’s something illegal, burn my bridges. Move on.” He began chanting to himself as he stepped closer to the door, his heart was pounding in his chest. “First sign of illegal, burn my bridges, move on.” He reached for the latch before turning the knob. “First sign of illegal,” he shoved open the door, “burn my—“
Out before him sat the edge of the tank, the short ledge, and darkness below.
“Fucking hell.”
Captain Search Dog MacTavish was nothing but a drug dog, easily trained to find anything he wanted. Including hidden rooms.
Chalking the spring hinged door open with the latch extended, he felt a nervousness peering into the water below. Slowly he leaned down to press his hands into the ledge, palms soaked instantly, and stared down at his reflection. From above he could actually see that the tank had a reef of dark corals, a small foam of microscopic organisms floating and dipping below into the void.
Around the ledge, assumingly Garrick’s, there were temperature measuring tools, a metal cup, a bucket, gloves, and scrubbing tools. But none of them had been left in the water. Nothing was close enough to even touching the water, but the ledge was wet, and fish guts had been left on the ground beside his feet.
Johnny grimaced but looked back to the water to his reflection. He looked to his mussed hair and collar, running a hand through the remaining length before seeing his reflection ripple. He hadn’t touched the water, and he was sure he couldn’t see any fish. He furrowed his brow, leaning forward.
His image morphed into a paled portrait, sunken in by darkness. His eyes grew darker, wider. It was something of a nightmare that drew him closer. His lanyard touched the surface of the water, distorting him entirely, and before he could pull it — something grabbed hold of it. Something harsh and strong.
The tie snapped before he could fall forward into the bottomless pit, but like a frightened fish, he flopped away. He fell back over the short ledge against the wall, clutching the back of his neck where the lanyard had pressed harshly into his nape. Gasping, he pulled himself up against the wall.
That’s wasn’t normal. There was no fish that had snagged him, no mammalian creature; he inched himself forward carefully to the edge of the tank.
Just below the surface of the water — a face stared back at him.
Frozen in his own body, Johnny watched it slowly fade into the water until it became nothing. And maybe he could’ve shaken it off as a hallucination, maybe he was beyond starving and he was making up things.
He didn’t see a man in the tank.
His lanyard didn’t get snatched off his neck.
He wasn’t going back to that room, no reason at all, just because. No other reason.
x
Next chapter coming soon
fic masterlist
25 notes · View notes
bmpmp3 · 7 months
Text
some fashion dreamer adventures from playing too much in the past two days :) (MY USER ID IS LGXwM6wQk5 FEEL FREE TO request stuff or whatever u do in this game i forgor) :
Tumblr media
(ignore shocked shane this aint about him) made my OC dave as my first muse so i am kinda playing hard mode with the type b body situation but im like. determined now. im gonna make the flashiest and cutest and over the top outfits i can muster with the scraps theyve given the the type b (jk jk its not TOO bad its the best we've gotten so far but I do wish i could wear shorter shorts and crop tops and some of those type a socks are so cute i saw some that were like bandage thigh highs. dave should be allowed to wear thigh highs. dave should be allowed to wear thigh highs)
still having a lot of fun tho! sometime i should get around to making a type a muse but most people i meet are type a so i never run out of people to dress either way LOL
like most people i have things i hope they add in the future (like i said before, the lack of zoom is DIRE) and right now some of the currencies and levelling systems feel a little unbalanced (i have so many of the star things and bingo things and a decent amount of gacha things but the photo prop coins are my most coveted thing rn i have like 1 single one JKDLSJFDS) but im enjoying myself a lot like i knew i would
Tumblr media
was trying to take a pic of this other player's muse that had this really neat witch situation but i accidentally made dave dab and got really scared <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
in the end we must all go to the photo egg. in the end we all go into the photo egg. the universality of the photo egg.
Tumblr media
kinda wacky from daylight savings time changes i always get wacky i dont know what year or time it is. i spent twenty minutes scouring the ACT cocoon for the showroom stream 'cause i couldnt find it until i accidentally went into this like. basement alley. its in the basement alley <3 <3 <3
i guess we dont just go into the egg. we also. go into the. cocoons. the cocoons. in eve? cocoons in eve have. eggs in them
anyway i just unlocked cocoon FUN and its so awesome and scary and so so scary look at this bear
Tumblr media
free this bear somebody please free this bear ignore dave posing free this bear cocoon fun has bears behind bars and gazebos that raise you into heaven its so scary and awesome
going back to the photo props my favourites so far are the flowers theyre so cute
Tumblr media
i dont do the vertical photos that often because theyre kinda hard to do (u have to like. turn ur head or the switch to the side..... im nearly exclusively a tabletop switch player so i cant imagine what its like for docked player LOL) but this ones cute!
Tumblr media
but yeah very fun and extremely addicting i need to go to bed. i need to go to bed. i have assignments and i need to go to bed. but i want. to make outfits..........i must.....make outfits......graaaaahhh........GRAAAAAHHHHHH (turns into a zombie before your eyes)
7 notes · View notes
tehstripe · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
this sequence of pages in act 5 is so striking to me.
in acts 1-4, jade is a mysterious, all-knowing figure who knows about sburb and how it needs to go, and shes very systematic about logging and remembering important things through the little bands on her fingers. even though shes just some goofy little girl, shes smart!! she knows whats going on and knows what she has to do, and shes been studying the clouds to make sure that she and her friends are ready. because honestly, what else is she going to do with her time? she's alone on the island, and this is her destiny. she's going to make sure it happens.
here, we're finally seeing a bit of her friendly and put together self image start to fall apart as she just gives up on keeping track of things. she's grieving the loss of prospit, shes just had her first ever nightmare, AND she had to deal with an obnoxious teenage boy (karkat), and she's reached her breaking point. and she just. gives up. forget the reminders, forget the systems, they aren't serving her right now, so off they go.
plus, we get this tidbit a few pages later:
Tumblr media
jade always knew she was going to die. she had seen herself, stuffed and perfectly preserved as a thirteen-year-old. she must have known that it was coming soon, but that didn't stop her from going through the plan to play the game with her friends. personally i think she thought it was worth it if she could at least see her friends, hopefully keep them safe, and have some fun times with them right before she had to die.
i wonder if theres a part of her unsettled by the fact that she's finally faced something she didn't already know was going to happen. she no longer has the comforting clouds of skaia to tell her what's going to happen - she's as clueless as everyone else. probably MORE clueless than some characters, like the trolls, who have a window into her future that she can't see.
jade's realized that she doesn't know all of the beats of this story anymore. she might just grow up now, and that means she has to go forth into the unknown.
2K notes · View notes
steddiealltheway · 5 months
Text
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays :) This is way longer than I thought it would be, but it's been a while since I've written, so I think I needed it. I hope you all have a wonderful end to your year <3
Steve thought it was fate when he reached into Dustin’s old Santa hat and picked up a crumpled piece of paper with Eddie’s name scribbled on it. He had a gift stored away for Eddie that he bought weeks ago, and he was hoping there would be some way to get it to him without making it a big deal or something. Miraculously, the tiny slip of paper gave him that chance.
Now, two weeks later, Steve feels like his nerves are on fire as everyone gathers around in his living room, waiting to receive their gifts.
He goes off to the guest bedroom where the party had dropped off their gifts under the bed with the promise of not peaking - per Steve's request. Mike complained that the system was a little bit much, and Steve couldn’t argue with him. He just didn’t want to give away that he was Eddie’s secret Santa.
And now that he has pulled all the gifts out from under the bed, his stomach churns and his heart races. He just hopes his gift doesn’t cross a line or bring up unwanted memories, especially since he and Eddie aren’t exactly best friends.
Well, okay, they’re close. Considering the number of times Dustin has insisted they all hang out now that they’ve all been trauma-bonded, Steve has spent a lot of time with Eddie. But he hasn’t gotten a lot of alone time with him.
Sure, there have been a few times when Eddie has stopped by work, but Robin was always close by - not that Steve minded at all, except he got tired of the looks she would give him after Eddie left as if she was expecting Steve to say something. He doesn’t know what exactly he would say, but he will admit that it was always sad watching Eddie go. Maybe he should tell Robin he wishes he could stay a little longer, maybe even after hours.
The thought reminds him of the one moment they spent alone that Steve can't help but recall often. Even his present to Eddie is based around that moment which resulted in him purchasing something definitely higher than the price limit, but none of the kids would know that so it’s fine.
There’s a light knock on the door behind him, and Steve turns around. “Hey,” Eddie says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”
Steve smiles back, willing his heartbeat to slow down a bit. “Yeah, just trying to figure out how to get them all at once.”
“Let me help,” Eddie says, already bending over to grab half the stack that Steve had pushed out from under the bed. “You don’t happen to have a Santa suit do you?”
Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “No?”
“Damn. Next year, okay? And I want to be Santa.”
The corner of Steve’s lip quirks up and Eddie's eyes light up, looking awfully proud of himself. The two hold the gaze for a few moments longer than they should, but it’s not like that's new to them.
“Guys! What’s the holdup?!” Dustin yells.
Steve sighs and offers Eddie a now irritated smile before leading the way to the living room, glancing down at the names on each present before handing them out. He and Eddie finish around the same time, and Steve notices there are two clear spots for them in the small circle on either side of Dustin. He almost makes a snarky comment to Dustin, but he holds his tongue, knowing Max and El will shoot them irritated glares if they start bickering.
"El, why don't you go first?" Steve suggests as he sits down, not giving the rest of the kids a chance to argue about it. After all, no one is going to protest after all that El did for them.
El smiles and carefully opens her gift, but Steve spaces out a bit, lost in thought about his gift and questioning if it will be an appropriate thing to bring up in front of the kids. Eddie had shared the moment only with Steve and even hesitated in doing so, so maybe he doesn't want it to be broadcast to the kids. Shit.
Steve snaps back to reality when El knee-scoots over to Dustin, pulling him into a tight hug and thanking him for her present. Dustin flushes an interesting shade of red that Steve is definitely going to bring up later when he himself isn't panicking. For now, he moves the game along. "Alright, Dustin gets to open his gift now since he was the Secret Santa," Steve announces, nervously glancing at Eddie, hoping the excited look doesn't mean the gift is from him. He's not sure if he's ready for Eddie to open his gift yet.
Luckily, the gift is from Lucas, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. But as the game continues and more people unwrap their gifts, Steve finds himself getting a bit impatient as he waits for someone to get their gift from Eddie. It's only when Max is last to open her gift that Steve realizes that he and Eddie are the only two remaining which means...
"No way," Eddie says with a big grin. "We're the only two who got each other."
Steve slowly looks down at the gift in his hand, neatly wrapped with a beautifully done bow that seems so unlike Eddie who always seems to be in a rush, doing everything with an almost frantic energy that Steve kind of adores. He wonders what he must've been like sitting still, carefully folding each curve of newspaper and taping it all together before neatly tying the red ribbon around the box into a beautiful bow. "You did this?" Steve can't help but ask, hoping he didn't just stick his foot in his mouth.
"Yeah," Eddie says somewhat bashfully as he pulls his hair in front of his face. "You do the honors." Eddie gestures to Steve's present and nervously rambles, "It isn't much really..."
Steve carefully undoes each fold, seeing the care Eddie took in wrapping a small box that Steve pulls the lid off of. He stares down at a small metal-looking thing and picks it up off the paper it's on top of. He presses it and startles a bit as it buzzes.
"A hand buzzer," Dustin laughs in disbelief.
"Maybe you two need to hang out more," El suggests innocently.
Eddie clears his throat. "There's a note in there, too, but you don't have to read it out loud in front of the kids or anything."
Steve keeps ahold of the little buzzer and picks up the note, staring at a few numbers in confusion before following an arrow that elaborates 24/7 Walkie Channel - especially at night. Steve flushes a bit red at the joke, but as he reads further, he realizes it's not a joke at all. In fact, he knows exactly what this is referring to.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie walks up to the counter of Family Video and raps his knuckles on the counter. "Now tell me, what exactly is behind that restricted section with the red curtains?"
Steve rubs his temples and gives Eddie an unimpressed look. "You know exactly what's behind there."
"Well, maybe I want to hear it from my favorite employee. After all, you're supposed to help me with all my needs."
"Alright," Robin announces loudly, "I'm taking my break."
Steve hears the break room door shut behind him, and he drops his head in his hands with a slight groan.
"That embarrassed, Harrington? I thought you were like the expert here. Especially since Robin isn't allowed back there, but..." Eddie trails off but suddenly his voice gets much closer yet softer. "Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes I push too far without realizing and-"
Steve cuts him off with a short wave of his hand. "It's not that. You're fine really. Just didn't really sleep last night."
"Company or..." Eddie goes for a joke to lighten the second half of what he's implying.
Steve sighs and glances up at him. "It the 'or' option."
Eddie gives him a sympathetic look and glances around at the empty store before leaning on the counter, right into Steve's space, but it's comforting rather than intrusive. Eddie softly says, "I get it, man. The night terrors are... they're intense. I still see Chrissy when she..." He looks away, swallows hard, and takes a deep breath. "I get it."
Steve glances up and sees a matching haunted look in Eddie's eyes that Steve catches in the mirror from time to time. "It's harder late at night. I get this urge to reach out to everyone and make sure they're okay and..." Steve sighs and lowers his voice, "still alive." He shudders slightly and laughs humorlessly, "But it's not like I can just call everyone's house at night and wake up them and their family. I usually just wait for the urge to pass but it's harder for me with some people." Steve swallows hard, knowing what Eddie will ask next.
"Like who?"
Steve glances up at Eddie and says, "Robin of course because she's my best friend. Max is tough too because of how close she was to dying and you just never know if that thing will come back or not."
"He's gone for good this time. You know what Owens said," Eddie presses gently.
"Yeah, but I've heard it before," Steve argues. But he can't deny that things definitely feel more final now. Like maybe they're finally over. Still, he can't just let his guard down on the off chance that his gut isn't right for once.
Eddie shifts and nudges Steve's elbow with his own. "Anyone else though?"
Steve holds Eddie's gaze for a moment, and he sees the exact moment Eddie knows exactly what he's thinking as the memories of Eddie's lifeless body in Steve's arms flood in his head. "You were... gone there for a little while. And sometimes I wake up, and I think that you didn't make it. That the nightmare I keep having is actually reality."
Eddie gives him a pained look and places his hand over Steve's. "You can call me at any time. Day or night. I'll try my best to answer, especially at night."
"Eddie, I don't want to make you lose sleep any more than you already are."
"But I'm probably already awake. And I don't care if I lose sleep for you, okay?"
Steve glances up at him and flushes a bit as his eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips. For a moment, he thinks he might understand what Robin's looks mean, but he glances away before he can truly think about it. "That's not the only problem though," Steve confesses quietly.
Eddie just squeezes his hand, waiting for him to elaborate.
With a deep breath, Steve hooks his thumb on top of Eddie's pinky and squeezes back for some support. "I hate speaking in that empty house. My voice seems to echo, and it makes me feel more alone than I already am. And sometimes it feels impossible to speak about things. Like my voice doesn't work or something. I don't know."
"I get it," Eddie says simply, squeezing his hand again. "But really, if you ever need to call or stop by or anything. I'll be there." Steve holds Eddie's gaze, thinking maybe the upcoming night won't be so bad.
Before Steve can really say anything else, the bell on the front door dings loudly and he and Eddie practically jump apart. The customer doesn't even so much as glance at them, but they both still keep their distance, recognizing that the moment is over.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Steve stares at the little list in the note.
One Buzz: Checking in. I will buzz back so you know I'm okay. Two Buzzes: If you need to hear my voice. I will respond over the walkie and talk for as long as you like. Buzz multiple times, and I'll stop. And trust me, I will talk your ear off, so I won't get offended when you buzz. Three Buzzes: If you need me to call ever. Don't be afraid to use this one. Wayne is still working night shifts, so you're really no bother if you want to call first. But this way, I can be the one calling you so you don't have to worry about waking me up or anything. Really. The buzzes aren't too loud, so they shouldn't wake me up. Let me know if you want to add anything to this list. I have an identical list with my hand buzzer at home that I would be happy to add to at any time. Merry Christmas Love, Your Secret Santa
Steve stares at the note in his hand almost too stunned to speak. He doesn't think he's ever received a more thoughtful gift in his life. He pinches at his nose and tries to shut his emotions down a bit, and Eddie must catch on because he loudly announces, "My turn!"
Steve takes a deep breath, forgetting entirely about the gift he got Eddie. He watches as Eddie tears the wrapping paper off the small box then dramatically and very slowly opens it up with a big smile, knowing he has the kids' impatient attention practically in the palm of his hand. But when he finally sees the gift, his smile and whole act drop as a look of realization crosses over his face.
Steve's heart pounds in his chest.
Eddie slowly removes the little glass bottle filled with brown liquid and silently stares at it.
"What is that? Some type of fancy bourbon?" Max asks with a scoff.
Steve watches Eddie's eyes get slightly glassy, and he's quick to announce, "Something like that. But alright, we have to move on before your families start coming to pick you up. Was a snowball fight next on your cheesy list or something?"
Dustin is quick to defend the list the group came up with, but Steve is quicker in pushing them all toward the front door. "I'll be there in a bit. Eddie and I have to clean up."
The kids all rush to put on their coats and shoes, not wanting to be a part of any type of cleanup. Once they run outside, Steve closes the door and rushes back to the living room where Eddie's still staring at the bottle, a single tear going down his face. "You... you remembered... and you... you got... how?"
"Of course, I remembered," Steve says, thinking of what Eddie told him months ago.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Steve sighs and stuffs more things into a box from Eddie's closet. Dr. Owen's people had finally given the trailer the all-clear, so they were finally able to get the remainder of Eddie's and Wayne's things out of there. Of course, the kids had spent about an hour helping with the living room before taking a very very long break at Max's place. Steve assumes it will be lasting until the rest of the trailer is cleared out.
"They're great help, aren't they?" Eddie jokes as he brings another box into the room.
"Absolutely. Always willing to lend a hand. That is until they decide that the adults can just slave away for them."
"Someone needs to give them a lecture," Eddie sighs, pulling out a pile of clothes from his closet.
Steve scoots the box over and asks, "And why does that person always seem to be me? Especially when they don't listen to me."
"You're just so motherly," Eddie says with a big smile, dimples on full display.
Steve can't help but smile at the sight. And luckily he's staring his way when Eddie picks up another stack of clothes and suddenly hurdles something Steve's way. And even luckier, Steve's reflexes are quick, so he's able to easily catch the smaller glass bottle.
Eddie's eyes widen and he quickly grabs at the bottle, wrapping his hands around Steve's in the process. "Jesus H. Christ." Eddie's grip tightens as he stares at the bottle and breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his head to Steve's shoulder. "Have I ever told you that I'm so glad you're a jock?"
Steve snorts. "No, but whatever in this bottle must be important enough for you to admit it. So, tell me, what's in it? Alcohol? Some type of weird liquid drug?"
Eddie pulls back and looks away, still cradling the bottle and Steve's hands. "It's nothing. Just, hold it gently while I find another shirt to wrap it in."
Steve gently grasps the bottle and brings it closer, inspecting what it could be when he's hit with a bit of deja vu. He tests his suspicions and carefully removes the cap. "Eddie, why do you have an almost empty bottle of perfume in your closet?"
Eddie turns to him and asks, "Please, don't tell me you sprayed it."
"I didn't. The cap just gave it away."
Eddie quickly takes the bottle from his hand and puts the cap back on. "It's nothing. Like I said." He rolls it carefully in a t-shirt and places it in the box.
Steve slowly approaches and looks down at the box, frowning when he sees it start to blend in with the other pile of clothes in there. "I'll be right back," Steve announces before running out to his car. He opens the trunk and sighs, grabbing a shoe box and carefully placing his emergency date shoes in the corner of the trunk before taking the box inside.
When he gets back to the room, he reaches into the bigger box, fishes the shirt-wrapped perfume out, and places it gently into the shoe box before setting it aside. Steve glances up and notices Eddie staring at him. "Is that the emergency date shoe box?"
Steve is going to give the kids or Robin a lecture later about giving away people's personal information. "Yes," he admits.
"So, where are the shoes?"
"In my trunk," Steve says, moving onto Eddie closet to grab the last of the clothes.
Eddie pauses before asking, "You put your emergency date shoes the kids told me to never touch in your trunk to give me a box for my perfume?"
Steve shrugs. "Yeah." He stuffs everything down and closes the box, pushing it toward the door. But he's stopped by Eddie's hand on his arm.
"Why?" Eddie asks.
Steve straightens up and puts his hands on his hips. "It's clearly important to you, and I wasn't going to let you forget about it and accidentally throw it again when I'm not there to catch it."
Eddie holds his gaze for a few moments and Steve almost breaks the eye contact, not used to having Eddie's attention directly solely at him. But he feels like that will change in the future.
Eddie shifts and places a hand on Steve's back, leading him to where he placed the box. He picks it up and opens it, slowly unraveling the perfume and staring at it as if debating if he wants to share the story with Steve.
Steve just waits, not wanting to pressure him. Instead, he lets the moment play out.
Eddie breathes out, "It was my mom's."
It hits Steve all at once the implication of the phrase.
"She would wear it all the time. I remember she would put it on once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once before going to bed. I told her it was silly to do that before bed, but she told me it was only silly if I let it be." Eddie smiles at the memory before growing distant in his expression. "When she got sick, she started forgetting the time more and more. So, I would remind her. And toward the end, I started putting it on her when she felt too weak to spray it."
Steve shifts and lightly rests his hand on Eddie's back as he continues, "I told my dad that she should be buried with it. That she would want to have it with her and wear it all the time." Eddie's voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. "He told me that was silly."
Steve shifts closer to Eddie so their sides are pressing together, trying to give him physical support because he's unsure of what to say.
Eddie shakes his head and smiles sadly. "I kept it since then. And I used to spray it all the time, and god, the guys at school would make fun of me for smelling like girl's perfume, but I didn't care. But maybe I should've listened to them because now I only have this much left." He holds up the bottle to emphasize his point, the perfume so low that it seems to barely cover the bottom of the glass.
"One time, I brought it to a perfume store to ask what brand it was. I thought maybe I could save up and buy another one." Eddie shakes his head again. "But the lady accused me of stealing it. She said there was no way I would've been able to afford it in the first place. That there was no reason for me to even have it unless I was looking for a cheap buck to make."
Steve's grip on Eddie's back presses a little firmer as he feels anger and disgust toward the woman overflood his system. "That's fucked up."
"A bit, yeah," Eddie agrees. He glances at Steve, and Steve realizes how close they are, but he doesn't try to move away. "Do you want to smell it?"
Steve's brows furrow. "Eddie, there's barely any left in there, don't waste it on me."
Eddie smiles somewhat bashfully. "No, it's alright. I haven't used it in a long time, and after everything we went through, I need the reminder."
"If you're sure, then yes. I would love that."
Eddie holds out his wrist and lightly sprays the perfume. He uses his other wrist to rub it in before he holds it up to Steve's nose. Steve takes a deep breath and is suddenly taken back to a vague memory from a Christmas years and years ago when Steve was too young to succumb to the disappointment from his parents who were still around. But it's a happy memory nonetheless.
"What do you think?" Eddie asks.
Steve smiles softly. "I think your mom had great taste. And it smells really beautiful. I wish I could've met her."
"Me too," Eddie replies softly, staring at the bottle.
-:-:-:-:-:-
"My mom had the same one. Years ago it was gifted to her. I ended up finding the bottle in one of the drawers in her bathroom. It was still in the box, so it wasn't too difficult to find at the store," Steve admits. He holds out his hand and says, "Here. I have to show you something."
Eddie carefully places the perfume back in the box and takes Steve's hand, following him up the stairs and into his room. Steve regrettably lets go of Eddie's hand to pull out a box from under his own bed. He holds it up to Eddie who gasps, "Steve, this must have cost you a fortune."
Steve glances down at the five boxes of perfume and shrugs. "There was a Christmas sale. Plus, I was able to use my Harrington charm a bit."
Eddie grabs the box and carefully sets it on Steve's bed before quickly wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "Thank you. God, this is the best gift I've ever gotten."
Steve squeezes him tight. "Same with yours."
They remain in each other's arms for a few moments, not rushing the embrace or questioning how long they're allowed to linger. Only, when Steve starts pulling away, he starts questioning his next move. Because more than anything he wants to kiss Eddie.
The realization hits him hard. He knows exactly now what Robin's glances mean and what she's been expecting him to say. Of course, deep down he knew, but he just hadn't had to face it head-on yet. But here he is and... "Eddie," Steve says softly, lingering in his space.
"Steve," Eddie replies quietly, eyes flickering down to Steve's lips, already knowing what he means.
Steve takes a deep breath, feeling his heart pound in his chest as he asks, "Can I?"
"Hell yes," Eddie replies.
They both move together at the same time, meeting each other in a gentle kiss which they linger in. Steve moves away to breathe and shifts to cup Eddie's face with his hands and bring him in again. He kisses him with all he has, filled with the awe of the thoughtful gift he received, joy of the gift well received, and the overwhelming feeling that this is right.
Steve breaks the kiss with a smile and whispers, "Merry Christmas, Eddie."
"Merry Christmas, Steve," Eddie says breathlessly before kissing him again.
And it really is a merry Christmas.
2K notes · View notes
adore-gregor · 2 years
Text
My homework asignment for uni is like way too deep and way too personal 😅🥲
#it happened#for a class i had to do a reading about biases (racial etc.)...#and there are questions we need to answer the last one was if i can think of any biases i have/had#i went way too deep on that one 😅😅🥲#i went on a full on rant about how i grew up and parts of my family were/are rather conservative spreading some biases#and how that at that time especially as a kid teenager kind of messes with your belief system a bit#but that i remained an open minded person and could not be so easily influenced :))#while I never believed them however i have definetly grown even further away from that now#well i wonder if my professor actually reads that 😅🥲#and what he thinks... he seems to be a pretty forward thinking professor so...#i would have never done that if he doesn't come off like that#i feel a bit nervous idk this was very personal#but also i do like sharing things lately because it's like i want people to know me more as a person#so i hope he enjoys reading it hahah 😅🥲#i don't know who i have told about this already but yeah parts of my family are rather conservative and hold some views i don't agree with#being with them is sometimes quite difficult you don't know what to say or do... :(#i want to say so many things but also i don't want to start a 'family fight'#also in regards to my parents especially my mom (who both share my views mostly)#i'm not a person who says you can't talk to people with different opinions (but there are a few where i draw a line)#however it's rather that when i'd say some things it's some family members who couldn't deal with that and get really offended#so well#i bite my lip often#well you can't choose all your family members 🥲
0 notes
theladysunami · 5 months
Text
I listen to a lot of audiobook murder mysteries, which has me thinking:
Shen Yuan transmigrating into a murder mystery… as the killer!
There are a couple of ways the story could go.
First Option: Shen Yuan lets his System know, in no uncertain terms, he will not be murdering anyone.
Its response: [Alternate Plotline Initiated. New Assignment: Designated Red Herring].
Poor Shen Qingqiu finds himself stuck in a whole murder mystery series, and any time anyone is murdered, he somehow ends up being the number one suspect!
The victim? Probably picked a fight with Shen Qingqiu at some point. (Shen Qingqiu tries to avoid such arguments, but it never seems to work!)
The murder weapon? Yeah, Shen Qingqiu is almost guaranteed to have touched it. (Shen Qingqiu is severely tempted to start wearing gloves 24/7.)
The body? Either Shen Qingqiu finds it himself at some inopportune time, and/or it was stashed somewhere “only” he is supposed to have access to. (At some point it's just: Shen Qingqiu opens a door… sees a body… closes the door. “Time to call the cops, yet again.”)
Shen Qingqiu ends up a tad paranoid about the whole thing, setting up cameras outside his house, in his office, in his car, etc. just to (hopefully) stop people from planting evidence any of those places.
If anyone asks about the truly absurd number of (eventually dropped) murder allegations, Shen Qingqiu insists he's cursed. Even with genre blinders on (making the number of convoluted murders in the area seem normal somehow), it's hard for anyone to argue the point.
For Shen Qingqiu's day job (when he's not busy being charged with murder) he works as a professor at a university with a highly regarded Criminology & Criminal Justice program. I'm thinking the original goods was a literature professor, with a strong distaste for cops, who was known for grading anyone in the criminal justice program exceedingly harshly. Naturally one of his students is the protagonist, Luo Binghe.
After his transmigration, professor Shen Qingqiu suddenly becomes a very kind and doting professor with a real passion for literature. This leaves Luo Binghe quickly smitten and makes him a very motivated amateur detective, since he's determined to prove his beloved's innocence as quickly as possible and as often as needed!
Second Option: Shen Yuan takes over after the original goods already committed the murder.
He wakes up with a splitting headache (the victim attempted to defend themselves presumably), looks at his bloody hands… looks at the victim… looks at the weapon… looks at his bloody hands again. “Damn it, Airplane.”
He decides he doesn't want to try and hide a body actually, just to be caught by the protagonist later and charged with a whole slew of things in addition to murder, so he calls the cops himself. He might as well take advantage of the fact he has a concussion and literally doesn't remember a thing. Maybe he can get the charges reduced somewhat and get a lighter sentence.
Of course the first cop that arrives at the scene is Yue Qingyuan, who as the #1 Xiao-Jiu stan gives Shen Qingqiu way too much benefit of the doubt. The most obvious evidence also keeps being erased or damaged by weird as hell coincidences.
Shen Qingqiu knows he certainly isn't responsible for damaging evidence and wonders if the System is working overtime behind the scenes to ensure there actually is a mystery for Luo Binghe to solve. (After all, it wouldn't be much of a story if Shen Qingqiu was already charged and sentenced before Luo Binghe had a chance to even do anything.)
To his complete bewilderment, after a few days leave to recover from the concussion, Shen Qingqiu is actually allowed to return to his university teaching job. He decides to make the best of it, since who knows how long he'll be a free man.
As in the first scenario, a few months later and Luo Binghe is absolutely smitten, not to mention all the other students and faculty that have come to adore him.
As Shen Qingqiu has successfully endeared himself to pretty much anyone and everyone local that could actually charge him or provide eyewitness testimony, not to mention all the shady shit about murder victim Qiu Jianluo the ongoing investigation keeps digging up, the plot stalls for a bit until the state police (aka Huan Hua Palace) are finally called in by Qiu Haitang.
Unfortunately for the ‘HHP’ folks, the protagonist himself is on Shen Qingqiu's side, and Luo Binghe is perfectly happy to muddy the waters by conveniently “losing” evidence, sending them after every single red herring he comes across, and “accidentally” digging up dirt on all the shady dealings going on in their department.
The System keeps trying to motivate Shen Qingqiu to hide evidence, lie, or do literally anything suspicious to progress the plot further, but all its punishment protocols involve sabotaging Shen Qingqiu's coverup attempts (of which he has none) or revealing information to the protagonist (who is complicit by this point) so it's fresh out of luck.
Eventually the System gives up and Shen Qingqiu is congratulated for “getting away with murder!” despite the fact he didn't actually do anything.
“Seriously? Does it even count as getting away with murder when the original goods was the actual murderer? I didn't kill anyone!”
[...]
1K notes · View notes
messylustt · 1 year
Note
i had this on top of my mind today
imagine ethan with a huge crush on y/n, having all these fantasies on her. once a week they would call each other for econ homework, but that day he's just too horny so he gets off to her voice. y/n is too oblivious, he would be palming himself through his pants. his breath becomes a little too loud and she kind of guess what's happening and takes advantage of it to tease him/make him embarrassed.
this makes me feel things
a little help — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : ethan can’t help but get off to your sweet voice.
male jerking off. teasing. innuendos. ethan has fantasies. wc 2.0k
Tumblr media
Ethan felt slightly embarrassed with how eager he picked up the phone His heart was already beating fast as your sweet voice filled his ears.
"Hey, Ethan!" You smile, placing your assigment and study papers on your bed, as you got yourself settled.
"Hey, y/n." He says, a smile he can never force down appearing on his lips.
"Did you get the new assignement from this morning's lecture?" You ask, as you flip through your pages to find it.
Ethan does the same, putting you on speaker as he placed his phone on the bed. "Yeah...I think so... yes." He says, placing the assignment details ontop of the rest of his work. "Why did Mr. Harold give out papers, instead of just sending it?"
"Ah, he's old, which can sometimes mean old-fashioned, I guess." You say, clicking your pen. "Oh my god, though did you see Sophie?" You chuckle, remembering the way she had tried to flirt with the poor old man, leaning forward as she pushed her breasts together.
"No...Sophie was in today?" Ethan knew of her vaguely as the girl who would fuck for good grades. But his focus had been on you in econ, sparing glances down your body when you weren't looking.
"How could you not notice?" You ask, shifting more comfortably on your bed. "I was scared her tits were gonna fall out."
Ethan stiffened at your words, and not because you had mentioned Sophie's tits, but because the his mind wandered to your own, and how he'd always have to readjust in his seat when you'd wear a tight top. Wondering how they'd feel in his—
"We should get started." You unintentionally break his train of thought, as he gulps, silently cursing at himself. "Because I barely understood Mr. Harold."
"Uh, yeah." Ethan coughed, forcing himself to focus. "What part didn't you get?"
"The third paragraph, where he talks about the inflation and economic growth. His question after confuses me. I'm not sure what he's asking us to answer." You speak so innocently, brows furrowed, as Ethan furrows his own for an entirely different reason.
For some reason your voice was sending small electric jolts through him. All the way down to his dick, which has begun to strain painfully against his pants. Christ, not now-he thinks to himself. He licked his lips, answering your confusion, as you hum with an "ah, that makes makes more sense."
Ethan's mouth has salivated, as all his built up fantasies of you fill his head. "So, when he spoke on analyzing the economy as a system, the list he followed on from..."
Ethan doesn't mean to drown out your words. Because he's listening. But more so to the hilt of your voice, and how it would sound much more breathy, as you gazed up at him. One of his fantasies had you on your knees, licking at his cock, as your innocent eyes held his. He had orgasmed extremely quickly, multiple times, when he found this imagine in his head.
"...he could have meant that these are the elements," you had continued, completely oblivious to Ethan's wandering hand.
He couldnt help it. He palmed his cock, as he listened to you speak. You always spoke so pretty. He could imagine your confused expression as you spoke on your problems. He began to rub himself, restricting himself to just over his pants, as he bit his lip.
He won’t do more. Just…relieve a hint of tension. You continued to speak and your words began to sound like something he wished he could grab, as his hand tightened on his bulge, his rubbing growing messy.
His breathing had grown heavier but he covered it up by saying ‘yes’s and ‘no’s, answering your questions.
“Sorry, I’m rambling. Did you have any questions?” You ask. You were there to help each other, not him only help you.
Ethan had to spare a glance at his work, scanning to see if he’d written down any problems, trying to remember if he had any. Because the only problem he could think of right now is how his over-the-clothes rubbing was doing little to satisfy his need.
His cock was rock hard, and his mind was beginning to cloud over with lust, and want for you. “I—I don’t think so.” He mutters out, his fingers reaching the button of his jeans, as he pulled the zipper down.
It was shameful, but he just couldn’t help it. “Okay, do you mind if I ask another question?—sorry I just saw it now.” You ask as Ethan absentmindedly nods wanting to hear you speak more, before he manages a ‘sure’, trying to act casual.
“Great, thank you,” and you began to speak on either the 8th or 9th paragraph as Ethan stuck his hand in his pants, feeling his pre-cum practically staining his boxers.
He imagined the way you would touch him. Would you be gentle and slow, or would you deep throat him immediately. Ethan’s breathing stutters as he strokes himself. The little hums you make when you think have begun to make his hips thrust up into his palm.
His other hand had tightened around the sheet, praying that you can’t hear him jerking off to you. Ethan grows lost in your tone as his cock twitches.
“Ethan?” You slowly ask, making his hips jolt at the utterance of his name from your lips, but he tries to keep his voice of some composure.
“Yes?” He had to press his lips together after a needy whimper nearly falling.
“Are you…okay?”
Your question makes him halt-much to his cock’s dismay. “W-what?”
“You sound out of breath.” You say, behind the line trying to think of why. Because he can’t be running, he’s in his apartment with his papers on his bed like you.
“I’m not.” He coughs.
You nod to yourself, but then you catch the smallest of sounds fall straight from Ethan’s lips. You had to be mistaken, because that noise sounded like one due to pleasure.
Your mouth opened in shock as you realise. He’s out of breath because he’s…
“Ethan.” You say again, hearing a stuttering whimper from him before he tries to cover it up by asking ‘yes?’ again. “What are you doing?”
Ethan curses himself because you sound suspicious. “I’m studying. Going over the study. Like you.” He says, really forcing down his cock’s want to just ask you to keep talking so he could reach his orgasm.
“Ah huh.” You hum, unconvinced. “And you’re sure you have no questions?”
“No. No, I’m all good.” He says, really forcing his words to sound normal, as he had slowly began to stroke himself again, his cock angry.
“No questions for me?” You ask now instead. Slowly coming to the definite realisation of Ethan jerking off.
“What do you mean?” Ethan asks, your tone going straight to his cock.
“Oh, nothing.” You hum, before you intentionally make your voice come out breathier, seeing what he’ll do. “Did I mention how nice your hair looked this morning?”
Ethan’s breath hitches as his hand quickens around his cock, seeming to have a mind of its own. “N—no.”
“Oh. Well, it looked really good, I just wanted to run my fingers through it constantly.” You pause hearing Ethan’s surprised whimper. “But that’s weird isn’t it, sorry.” You were teasing him now, your study forgotten.
“I—it’s not weird. You’re not weird. At all.” Ethan’s words are broken up by his panting.
“Aw, that’s so sweet, Ethan.” You hum, making Ethan’s hips thrust up into his hand, his legs having widened as you spoke.
“Y—yeah?” His eyelids have begun to feel heavy.
“Yeah. Your always so sweet to me. Helping with my study, making sure I have a seat in econ.” You shift on your bed, debating on if you go bolder. “You’re also very good at studying, hence why you never have too many questions. You’re also very good at teaching, making sure I know what I’m doing. Your just such a good boy.”
Ethan chokes on a moan. This makes his eyes widen, because you definitely heard that. So he quickly goes to speak. “T—that’s sweet. Really sweet. You’re…really sweet.” His tone is still breathy though, as he imagines how sweet you really are…or taste.
“Am I?” You tease, as Ethan’s rapidly nods on the other line.
“Always so…sweet.” He says, his tone unintentionally dropping an octave.
“But I never seem to be able to help you.” You say. “I’m the one always asking questions.”
“That’s fine.” Ethan says. “I like hearing you talk.” He pauses, shit. “I—I mean, I like hearing your questions because then I can help you.”
A smile had edged your lips. “But that’s exactly it. You help me…” you drift off, speaking closer to the phone. “Let me help you.”
Ethan didn’t know what you meant but the tone you had dropped to makes his hand quicken as his hips had begun to grind into his palm. “W—with what?”
“Oh, you know, with many things.” You say, appearing innocent again. “One specifically would be your tension.”
Ethans chokes on a whimper as he places his hand over his mouth, still thinking you don’t know. “My…tension?”
“Yeah.” You say lightly. “I’m very good at massaging.” You hold back a chuckle as you tease him.
“You’d give me a massage?” In Ethan’s mind that’s the closest he could get to you.
“Yeah.” You say. “I’d start with your shoulders of course, getting essential knots out.” You fake normalcy in the conversation.
“Then I might let my hands drift down your back.” You pause. “You’d have to lie down, so I could get a good angle.”
Ethan’s mouth has opened in pleasure at the thought of you touching him on the bed.
“I’d have to ask where feels the nicest, before I’d drag my hands down your body.” Your words were growing bolder and if Ethan’s mind wasn’t hazed over with lust he might have been able to pick out your innuendoes.
“Really?” He asks, his stroking quickening.
“Yeah. Though, through your clothes it mind be hard to properly get that tension out.”
Ethan moans through his teeth, as his hips pathetically thrust at your words. “No clothes?”
“No clothes.” You confirm. “Would that be okay? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable—“
“Yes.” His answer was immediate, cutting you short. He coughs. “That would be fine.”
You grin. “Good. Because that way I could really relieve some tension. I’d have to straddle you of course.” You pause to hear Ethan’s heavy breathing and the faint sound of his hand gliding along his cock. “You may even have to flip around, because I’ve heard that the most tension can be by your collarbones and neck.”
Ethan nearly orgasmed at the thought of you straddling him, as your hands wandered his body. “As in straddling..my front?”
“Yeah, is that okay?”
“Uh huh.” He hums, his cock twitching with a soon need to release.
“I could give you that massage the next time we study.” You say, making Ethan’s breathing quicken at the possible reality of all that. “I could come over to yours.”
At this point he couldn’t care how desperate he sounded. “Yes. Please, come anytime.”
“Or maybe you should cum?” You ask, your innuendo strong, as pleasure began to rock through Ethans body. “W—what?”
“Come to my apartment.” You play it off, listening to the wet sounds his cock was making as you could hear how close he was to his orgasm.
“No. You should—should come here.” He says breathlessly.
“Do you prefer yours?”
Ethan just wants to see you on his sheets, all his fantasies having happened on this bed. He wanted to make one a reality, even if it was just a massage.
“I just have all the extra study stuff here.” Not that he couldn’t easily bring it, but he ignored that, and so did you.
“See, you are such a good boy.” And that did it. His orgasm wracked through him as quiet whimpers and moans left his lips his hips grinding into nothing. Wishing the air was you.
When the pleasure slowly ceased he heard words he never thought you’d utter. “Maybe next study session I could jerk you off?”
“W—what?” He chocked. Fuck, of course you had heard him. By the end he was being pretty obvious.
“Yeah, Ethan.” You grin. “Let me help relieve some tension.”
Tumblr media
© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
5K notes · View notes
eideticallys · 1 year
Text
Who Needs Time Management When I Have You?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: one of the many perks of having a boyfriend with flawless memory is that you do not have to remember stuff—he remembers them for you.
genre: tooth-rotting domestic fluff
word count: 1.5k
author's notes: i wrote this because domestic!spencer reid is a guilty pleasure of mine. i can definitely picture him as an attentive boyfriend because aside from the fact that he has flawless memory, he's an overall caring guy. with that said, i hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this! also posted on ao3 (spencereids).
Tumblr media
ONE OF THE MANY PERKS OF HAVING A BOYFRIEND WITH FLAWLESS MEMORY IS THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO REMEMBER STUFF—HE REMEMBERS THEM FOR YOU. Do you have a dentist's appointment at 9? Covered. He will be waking you up at 7 with breakfast in bed. Your sister’s birthday is coming up. No worries! He has already ordered a bouquet ready to be sent on the day. It is amazing, and you thank your lucky stars for him every morning when you wake up and see him cozily sleeping beside you.
However, you were out of luck on the boyfriend angle today. You had your monthly—or if the BAU is free—girls' night scheduled tonight. As much as you enjoy having girls' nights with the BAU girls, Spencer also likes to spend some time out with the guys for a nightcap or something, whatever the men at the BAU enjoy when there is no case. And that means, your boyfriend is busy getting ready to go out as well. Although Spencer has never forgotten a thing in his life—even when he is on the brink of life and death—you do not want to stress him out even more by asking him what you think you have forgotten to prepare.
So, today when you were running around the house like a madman trying to collect the stuff you need to bring to Garcia’s for girls' night, you have no one else to blame but yourself. You have depended on your boyfriend to remember stuff for you that you always leave the preparation at the very last minute. At the moment, you believe you’ve never hated yourself as much as you did now, which is quite the feat considering that you’ve hated yourself a lot before for chickening out on confessing your feelings to boy wonder—your boyfriend, Spencer Reid—only to find out he shares the same feelings.
Scratch that, you hate your boyfriend right now more than you hate yourself.
Currently, that same boyfriend has been snickering nonstop at you dashing left and right and gathering the things you need to bring. Face masks? Check. Wine? Check. What else were you forgetting?
“You know, there’s this study that says only 82% of people have a time management system.” 
Your ever-loving boyfriend, Spencer, decided to share. You were about to chuck the throw pillow at him because you could hear the I told you so in his voice, but you knew his fact-sharing and nagging was his unique way of saying, “I love you, but you could’ve remedied this problem by preparing the stuff you’ll need the night before.”
“No, I don’t, Spence. But, do tell.” 
At this point, you’re pretty sure Spencer was sporting a shit-eating grin and was probably holding in a laugh at the strain in your voice from recalling whether you’ve got everything so you can head over to Garcia’s. You’re pretty sure Garcia is about to talk your ear off if you’re running late. You missed out on the last girls' night after you bailed on them, wanting to spend the night with Spencer, watching Star Wars, and eating takeout.
“There's a survey done recently which revealed that 90% of people say better time management can lead to increased productivity.” Spencer started explaining, hands waving around as if to demonstrate the numbers in front of him. “However, only 18% of people have a proper time management system.”
“And?” 
“Well, it just reminded me of you.” Spencer pursed his lips now, as he tried to explain his thoughts without annoying you. “If you just had a proper time management system like a to-do list or a planner. You could save at least..” He stared at his watch and did the math, “You could save at least one hour and forty-three minutes of your time instead of panicking over whether you got all the things you need for girls' night.”
“I don’t need that when I have you. Don’t you think so?”
This made your boyfriend blush, and you giggled, heading towards his direction, so you could wrap your hands around his waist and bury your face into his chest. You were the luckiest person alive for getting to date someone as wonderful as Spencer.
What you just said would not have made anyone flush and nervous, but Spencer was different. You knew he’s never been in a formal relationship with anyone before you. Thus, from time to time, he still gets embarrassed by your antics which you’ll always be endeared by. You live to see your boyfriend getting flustered because it gives you a reason to shower him with affection like now.
“I love you too, Spence.”
You looked up at your boyfriend, who looked like he was about to burst from your directness. You and he may deal with a lot of blood and gore during work, but he can be the most fainthearted person alive when it came to your affections.
“B-but I didn’t say I love you..” He trailed off, confused as to why you were suddenly proclaiming your love for him. You grinned even more as you pinched the tip of his nose.
“You didn’t have to, Spence. I know your nagging is one way of you saying you love me, and I love you for that.” 
Spencer scrunched his nose and rubbed the back of his neck out of shyness. If you could keep him in your pocket for safekeeping, you would. He’s just too precious for this world.
“But, as much as I love you, I know just as much that Penelope will have my ass kicked by Emily if I get to her house late,” you broke free from your boyfriend’s comfy arms, checking the bags you packed while doing so. “I have to go, baby. I think I got everything I need.”
Picking up your bag and care package, you ruffled your boyfriend’s brown locks, which made him frown a bit and sigh. You snickered at his reaction and proceeded to walk towards the front door. You were about to reach the staircase just outside your shared apartment when you realized something. 
You forgot your car keys.
Berating yourself in your head, you were certain once you entered that door, Spencer would be on your case like a mother duck. He can be too fretful when it comes to you. Oh well, that is one thing you love about him. Huffing, you slowly turned the doorknob and found Spencer leaning on the wall just inside the door with his arms crossed, looking at you smugly. You rolled your eyes.
One thing about Spencer Reid is he can be a cocky little shit when proven right. And that happens most—if not all—the time, with his IQ of 187 and eidetic memory. Unfortunately for him, he also happened to date a cocky little shit—you—who likes to fluster the living lights out of him. And right now, you just thought of the perfect way to get back at him.
But first, your car keys. Spencer next.
Once you have retrieved the pesky item—like it’s the car keys’ fault, you forgot to get them—you turned towards the door, not paying any attention to your boyfriend, who was already cracking up at you. Only when you’ve reached the door, your back towards Spencer, did you smirk. Oh, he’ll never know what’s coming to him. You did a U-turn and 
“Forgot something, sweetheart?”
“Why, yes I did, Dr. Reid,” you stated plainly, beelining towards him, making him take a few steps back until he ended up with his back against the wall. He's so easy to fluster. "I forgot to do this."
You slanted your head and pressed your lips against his. Your bodies were snug against each other as you kissed heatedly against the wall. You could feel the flutter of his long lashes against your cheeks as he parted his lips slightly to kiss you deeper. You could taste your shared breath, smell his faint perfume, and feel the slight scruff of a stubble about to show up. Warmth blossomed in your chest when you felt Spencer caress your face as if you were fine porcelain.
Kissing Spencer Reid never gets old in your books. Despite his lack of romantic experience and being the eager researcher that he was, Spencer was an eager lover—he would kiss you every chance he'd get to know how to please you, which paid off, by the way. This may be a biased opinion but you think the best kisses you have shared were with Spencer.
However, like all good things, kissing Spencer has to end, or Garcia will have you banned from her house for running late.
You pulled away from Spencer and grinned at him, to which he returned with a stunned smile. You chuckled when you noticed your lipstick smudged on the corner of his lips and brushed a finger to erase it. You wouldn't want your boyfriend to be the subject of Morgan's teasing once they're together after this. Noticing the daze your boyfriend is under is about to wear off, and he was about to say something, you beat him to it by pressing a smooch on his nose and pulling away completely. 
"I gotta go, Dr. Reid. Don't miss me too much!"
You scampered towards the door and shot a wink at your bewildered boyfriend—who was now sputtering in indignation for interrupting what he was about to say. He is so cute.
4K notes · View notes
yanderenightmare · 9 months
Note
can we have more yan DEKU who terrorises his exgirlfriend? like, he sends her creepy letters and gifts, without mentioning it's him of course, scaring her straight back into his arms??
Deku - Midoriya Izuku
TW: yandere, hints of dubcon/noncon, size difference, stalker, mental abuse
Tumblr media
Green Paisley
You’d felt watched lately, and things were rarely where you remembered putting them. But thinking it was all in your head, you’d ignored it until you received the first gifts and saw the pictures. Eyes peeled while reading the letter with a shaky hand covering your mouth, you dropped everything on the steps to your apartment when quickly reaching for your phone.
I wasn’t going to write you any letters. I was happy just watching because I knew you were already spoken for. But I’ve noticed that the green-haired guy hasn’t come over lately, and I feel so sad knowing you’re home all alone…
You contact the police, but all they tell you is to invest in a new alarm system. After a little crying at the station, they show you enough sympathy to post a squad car in your neighborhood – but all in all, you’d say they didn’t seem very convinced.
That green-haired guy is a fucking moron. If you were mine, I would never let you go. I would take care of you, much better than he ever could. I would give you only the prettiest gifts and call you only the sweetest names. I’d treat you how someone like you deserves to be treated. Keep you safe and sound and happy to be mine…
You read the stalker’s letter again while browsing ways to upgrade your security – your thumb in your mouth, nail bending where you chewed on it – eyes panning over the photos that came in the box. Taken through the window – some innocent enough, candid pictures of you cooking in the kitchen or watching a movie on the couch. 
Others were not so innocent.
Your nail broke between your teeth as you looked at the revealing pics of you in your bedroom – wearing nothing but flimsy underwear. 
You looked back to the screen and continued scrolling through deals – but more than that, you were trying to distract yourself from what you really wanted to do…
Izuku had always been a source of comfort when it came to safety, and you know he’d come if you called, but since you broke up with him only a couple of months ago it seemed too selfish to ask. Besides, the reasons you broke things off were all because of his derogatory tendencies, and to beg him over because of something like this would only prove his point.
You couldn’t call him over. He’d see it as a win, and you’d decided you wouldn’t lose to his patronizing ways any longer. You needed to do this on your own – without his help.
You had to wait through the weekend until Monday to call a guy. A new box came both days, each one more terrifying than the last. But after installing a new alarm system you felt a little safer.
But the next box stripped that safety away.
I know I must be creeping you out. After all, you have no idea who I am, whereas I know you so intimately. But you shouldn’t feel scared. I would never hurt you. My gift to you today is proof of that.
P.S. Security systems aren’t enough to keep me away from you. 
Beneath the letters were more pictures of you – this time sleeping – inside the house. 
You fell apart – caving in, calling Izuku in tears, begging him to come over in a hurry. “Izu- please, please, please come home-”
He’s sitting on your couch only a curt fifteen minutes later, a tight arm around your midriff, holding you close for comfort while you sobbed against his chest – a furl deepened his brows while reading, holding your stalker’s letters in the other hand with green eyes narrowing for every sentence he finished.
I dream of making you mine. As I watch you sleep, I wonder what you dream of. You look so lonely lying there. Maybe if I keep you company, you’ll start dreaming of me too.
“How many of these have you received?” He questioned when done, looking around at the gift wrap on the floor, green-paisley-patterned, and the several boxes filled with crepe and untouched pieces of what looked like different arrangements of lingerie, candy, and sex toys.
“Four, I think…” You muffled against his tear-soaked shirt, clinging to him with your legs tucked onto his lap.
“Four? Why didn’t you call me sooner?” He echoed, looking down at you with heavy curls shadowing his eyes.
You looked up at him through the blur, lip sucked between your teeth before answering. “I- I went to the police-”
“The police? You went to the police instead of calling me?” He cut you off harshly, making you flinch.
“I-I-” You stuttered, crying, and he shook from his misplaced anger and took your face in his palms.
“Shh-sh- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He apologized with a kiss on your forehead before pulling you close to his chest again. “It’s just… this is exactly what I warned you about. You should have called me sooner.”
“I’m sorry.” You whimper, calming down to the warm strokes his large hand smoothed across your back.
“Shh- it's okay… I’m here now… and I'm not gonna let any sicko touch you. I promise.” He soothed – his voice a calm and strong anchor for you to grip onto. “Come, I’ll help you pack a bag. You’ll sleep at my place tonight.”
“Okay…” You sniffle. “Thank you.”
He drove with only one hand on the steering wheel, the other on your lap, holding your hand – your bag by your feet – and you’re reminded of the first days you started dating. Sleepovers and overnight bags – his hand between your thighs on the drive.
His new place is bigger than the last – like something out of a magazine. Modern and simplistic – a little too clean, maybe, but very stylish. 
You knew he’d been climbing the ranks a couple of spots a week since you broke up with him, but you hadn’t known the new paychecks could afford something like this. It made you feel a little guilty thinking about it, then a little embarrassed, causing you to flush – standing there in guest slippers, bag in hand – your presence sticking out like a sore thumb.
“You hungry?” He asked, shaking you out of your meekness, where you looked up with a small nod and a slight hum.
He smiled, turning to the kitchen. You were so cute.
At dinner, it almost feels like old times. Izuku plays with your legs under the table even though you give him a look. He gets you to giggle after a while, surrendering to his hopeless flirting. You help him carry the dishes after you’ve finished – and even though he has a washer now, you slip right into that old routine and start filling the sink with warm water and soap. And then you stand there, the two of you – shoulder to elbow, and your chest flutters, wondering if he was always that tall.
You blushed and ducked your head, not wanting him to see you getting so flustered. You pretended to be throwing some scraps in the trash and that's when your eyes caught hold of it.
Green paisley.
You’re stunned for a moment. Still crouched down, your head hovering over the trash – face blank, body still.
“You weren’t meant to see that.” Came a voice.
Izuku stood next to you. Washcloth in hand, dripping soapsuds on the floor.
You’re breath shivers in your throat, and you drop to the ground with a gulp, looking up at him – now with building fear accenting your still shocked expression.
You blink a couple of times, trying to make sense of it but getting nowhere. “W-why?” Left you then, along with sudden tears that started slipping down your cheeks.
And it really was the only question you had. Why would he do this? Why would he torment you like that? Why would he-
“’Cause you left… And I needed a way to get you back.”
You cringed. Feeling sick – almost sick enough to turn around and throw up the entire dinner in the trashcan, all over that stupid green paisley print. But you didn’t. “You’re pathetic.” – is what you said instead.
You got up from the floor. Upset tears still rolled down your face, but you were mostly just pissed – kicking off your guest slippers, you sat down atop the shoe bench and started doing your laces.
“I’m leaving. Don’t call me. If I ever see you near my place, I’m calling the cops.” You uttered, grabbing your bag before yanking the door handle.
It didn’t budge – some strange new type of locking mechanism, which really made no sense to have on the inside.
“I’m going home, Izuku. Unlock the door.” You huffed, turning around to look at him sourly, only he’d approached you all too silently – making you gasp to see him standing right behind you.
“You’re not going anywhere…”
You’re taken to the bed, kicking and screaming – then pinned by hands thrice the size of your own beneath the big-boned body they belonged to. And now you’re really feeling scared.
Before, it had been such a distant threat – something you could pretend wasn’t there for most of the day and otherwise deal with by the soothing presence of a weapon in your house or a quick phone call to the police. But now – there was no comfort to be found anywhere.
“Shh, baby~ don’t fuss. It’s better this way.” He tried soothing, holding your fighting wrists tightly above your head in one fist. The other kept your lips shut, muffling all screams. Barring your thrashing legs beneath his own. “You need me- you couldn’t even last a single week without calling me.” He justified, hunched over you with his mouth only an inch above the knuckles draping your mouth. “But that’s alright, I don’t mind it. I always planned on taking care of you.” He cooed, rubbing his nose sweetly against yours despite you trying to shake away from it. 
You felt something rub against your thigh, and you knew all too well what it was. Fat tears streamed down your cheeks, facing the next events.
But Izuku shared none of your discomforts, rocking the bump against you with a moan slipping into his rant. “You like the new place I got, don’t you? You can stay in all day- I’d give you all you’d ever need or want- you’d be so comfortable you wouldn’t ever even want to leave-”
He sounded just like the letters.
And where it had ached you to know that he’d been the one to write them all… now it terrified you to understand how he’d meant every last word of it, too.
1K notes · View notes
groguspicklejar · 8 months
Note
can I get some gaz headcanons with a sensitive reader and she gets worked up very easily (she also cums very fast bc her sensitivity) love all the gaz appreciation btw 💋
oohh, i love this😍 nsfw!!! (fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex, p in v)
it's especially bad because it's Gaz and anything that man does gets you hot and bothered and he might not even be trying half the time.
he could be doing something as mundane as chopping vegetables and you're salavating because why does he need to look that sexy with a knife? it's not fair.
he didn't notice during the first couple of months of dating because you both wanted to take things slow. but boy, was it agonising. you did well to hide it so he chalked it up to either you being really shy.
how he discovered that you're sensitive? well, it was an accident. courtesy of the traditional makeout session after a wonderful forth date.
his hands were all over you when you were on his lap, groping your ass and thighs through the tight dress, pulling you closer to grind on him. he swallowed your little mewls, rocking his hips up to meet yours.
his mouth closes over yours, dragging the length of his clothed shaft over your soaked panties. his fingers slipped under the fabric of your dress, hiking it up to feel more of your warm skin. what he didn't know is that he had unintentionally brought you closer to your orgasm than he had intended. he was startled when you suddenly started to pull away with a faint whine.
"ah— Kyle—" he didn't mean to pull you back, grinding you harder against him. "wait—"
but it was too late. the way your body shudders is all too reminiscent of pleasure flooding the system. your thighs cling to his hips, fingers gripping his button up shirt, muffling a moan into his shoulder until you were spent.
your heavy breaths and the frantic beating of his heart was all he could hear. he's not even sure how that was possible. he didn't touch you, he's certain of that.
there's a quiet moment of sheer disbelief on his end before he shyly asks, "was that what i think it was?"
he instantly feels regretful when you tense up. you make no attempt to look at him as he heard your faint murmur, "sorry..."
your shoulders draw in as you try to slowly move off of him. the forlorn expression on your face broke something in him.
"it's okay, love. hey... look at me..." he pulls you back on his lap, cupping your cheeks. your eyes shut and you try to break free from his hold, but he won't let you. "look at me, angel. s'alright... you're alright."
it's clear that you're embarrassed, but he doesn't think that what just happened is anything to be ashamed of.
finally, when you look at him, your eyes are bleary with tears ready to fall. he places a gentle kiss on your nose, then your forehead. "in my humble opinion... that might be the most erotic thing i've ever seen."
you're silent for a few seconds. then you burst into a quiet laugh mixed with a sniffle as you rub your eye.
"well, i didn't ask." he chuckles into your neck, hugging you a little tighter.
it was such a joy when he found out that your sensitivity was practically off the charts. of course he couldn't resist the urge to tease you just a little bit because how could he not?
"you really like that? just a touch and you're a mess, hm?" you're jolted by the sensation of his fingers curling, grazing that spot inside your soaked cunt. "so sensitive..."
the bastard has the nerve to smile at your reaction. you'd be annoyed if you weren't so wet.
he spreads your legs on his thighs and settles as if he has nowhere else to be. as if he belonged there. your shaky moan echoes into his apartment when he makes gentle circles on your clit, your hand gripping his wrist to slow him down. he's barely touched you and you're already teetering precariously on the edge.
he curses under his breath once more, entranced by the exquisite sight. it's hard to escape his hungry gaze. "fuck, you're so beautiful."
you're truly mesmerising. spread open for him on his bed, pretty eyes dazed and fogged with desire. he likes you like this. trusting him with your vulnerability.
he keeps a slow pace, opting to go easy on you. cautious not to hurt you because you require a gentle touch. he gives your neck a few kisses, nipping your collarbone with his teeth. even then, it still seems like you're on the verge of imploding. he feels your thundering heart when he presses his lips on your chest.
you barely gasp his name as your knees close on his wrist. his eyes widen as your pussy convulses around his fingers. Kyle observes you unravel, ascending to cloud nine. he grins wickedly at this revelation.
nothing was ever the same since. he makes your life hell in all the heavenly ways possible. he takes full advantage of your weakness. in turn, he develops an addiction to touching you everywhere, especially your thighs.
makes you sit on his lap whenever possible and lays his hand on your thigh while the other rubs your back. he'll kiss your neck and nibble on your ear, knowing it'll fluster you and make you squirm while your friends were talking about something.
car rides? one hand grips the steering wheel and the other squeezes your thigh. he'll glare at you if you remove his hand and put it right back, not caring if you're mad at him or if he's mad at you about something. he can't bear not touching you.
he'll even go as far as hugging you from behind and kiss your neck while you're washing the dishes. and then his hands will wander with the full intention of making you horny. it thrills him knowing that it doesn't take much to get you so hot and bothered. it thrills him even more knowing that he's the one who gets to do this to you.
does he end up bending you over the sink to fuck you right then and there? probably. does he care that he might get dishwater all over you and himself? no, absolutely not.
he develops another addiction. the euphoric feeling of you clenching his cock. it's pure heaven. you're not going anywhere before he's wrung one orgasm after another, until the words muddle on your tongue and you can barely string a coherent thought.
"oh, fuck—" your orgasm catches him off guard this time, but he doesn't stop.
the lewd noises draw his attention to your pussy and his mouth waters. your eyes have rolled back, your legs weakened and barely able to hold up at his hips. so he pushes your knees to your chest and drives his hips a little harder.
it's too much for you to handle. you're barreling to your boiling point. the pleasure builds and climbs higher again, threatening to demolish what's left of you.
"K—Kyle..." you whimper helplessly, clawing at his shoulders, making him hiss sharply at the sting of your nails. "i can't—"
he bites his lip at the pain. it makes his cock throb agonisingly. he spreads your legs apart enough for him to lean between them and over you as he holds your wrists above your head.
"just one more, baby." he laments with his free hand rubbing your clit. "give me one more—"
your body tenses as you tip over, a sudden wail falling from your lips when you crash. your pussy squeezes him tight, but it's your desperate cry of his name that drags him down with you. his cum bursts hotly and spills deep, filling you up the way you both need.
his breaths are as shaky as yours but he steals one last wet kiss whilst his cock still throbs inside you.
i may have gotten carried away. sorry i didn't put it in headcannon form. it was already too late by the time Gaz weaseled his way into my head yet again
997 notes · View notes
the-dixon-effect · 9 months
Text
Daryl Dixon - idiots in love headcanons
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Daryl's never known anybody like you before. for the first time, a person has chosen him. you can make him feel loved just by talking to him, Hell, you can make him glow just by standing in the same room.
he thinks you're so beautiful. if love at first sight exists, which firmly believed it didn't before he met you, then this apocalypse was the best damn thing that ever happened to him.
it took Daryl a considerably long time for him to realise that his uncharacteristically affectionate feelings were love.
before Daryl realised he was in love, his brother used to constantly tease him about the way he was looking at you. he didn't even know he was doing it - "Whatchu givin' that girl puppy-dog eyes for, lil' bro?"
you two were definitely best friends before he confessed his love for you. you grew close during the prison era, and you were the first person whom he let his guard down in front of.
he can't stand to be apart from you. "If she dun' love me back, I can either be her friend or drive a thousan' miles west, an' never see y'all again," he had told Carol once.
his eyes inadvertently follow your movements, as if his subconscious felt like he needed to protect you.
everything somehow always comes back to you. a piece of jewellery he found on a run? Y/N would love that. the heating system in her house at alexandria's broken? he's fixing it tonight. in the meantime, he's at your door delivering a pile of woollen blankets. he spots a deer outside the walls? he's tracking it for days because he knows you love venison.
you love the way Daryl always steps into a situation to protect you. especially if it's another guy bothering you. he gets jealous so easily, and he doesn't even know it, like defending you is instinctual.
God forbid another man lays his hands on you. that motherfucker is already dead before you can object in the slightest.
Daryl is the only man you trust to talk about your issues with. he'd never pass up an opportunity to listen to your voice, but some of the things you tell him break his heart like nothing's ever done before.
you'll sweetly ask if he'd just hold you. and he wraps you up in his big arms and lets you cry softly into his chest while he places a hand in the back of your hair. rubbing sweet circles into the back of your neck. nothing could make you feel safer than Daryl's embrace.
after countless intimate moments like these, you start to wonder if he's like this around anyone else. surprise, surprise: he doesn't. and a part of him wishes you knew.
oh, but how much you adore him. you wonder if he knows how pretty he is; and how much you want to show him. his unkempt chocolate waves that perfectly frame his face, how much you'd like to tangle your fingers in them and kiss him all over.
you feel as though you owe him for all the times you've cried into his large, comforting figure. he occasionally brings up his past, his brother, his parents, and how much you want him to let it out. to hold him and wipe his tears away while you press soft kisses over his eyelids and cheekbones.
maybe one day, underneath some lucky constellations, you'd let each other.
taglist: @alldevilsarehere90 @poisonmenegan @radcollectivesoul @emilykolchivans @pinchoftheoutsiders
2K notes · View notes
solarsturniolo · 3 months
Note
gonna need an nsfw alphabet from you for Matt if u haven’t already
Tumblr media
Matt Sturniolo NSFW alphabet
Tumblr media
Warnings: NSFW (obviously) / Sex / kinks / like it’s literally descriptive blurbs about what he’s like during sex idk what else to even put lmao
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A = Aftercare: Matt’s a sweetheart and he makes sure to take good care of you after doing the deed. He’ll clean you up and help you slip into one of his shirts before pulling you into his arms to hold you. Whispering soft praises against your hair, peppering kisses across your head and face. If there’s anything that you need, he’s doing it for you in a heartbeat.
B = Body part: His favorite body part of his are his hands, the one part of him that can feel every inch of you. He can hold you, squeeze you, caress you. His hands know every crevice, every crook and cranny of your body. He could navigate your body with his eyes closed. His favorite body part of yours are your lips. He’d kiss you for hours if you’d let him. He loves how soft they are against his skin when you kiss him, and he loves the way they look when you smile at him. Not to mention how pretty his name sounds falling from your lips.
C = Cum: He’ll typically cum on your stomach or face, but some mornings he’s too lazy to put on a condom and too high with bliss to pull out. It’s rare when it happens, and he knows the consequences that could come with it, but there’s nothing he loves more than finishing inside you after a round of filthy sleepy morning sex.
D = Dirty secret: He reads fanfiction to study things to say or do during sex. Sometimes you wonder how he comes up with some of the things he says or how he knows just what to do at just the right time. He’s just glad you haven’t found his tumblr yet.
E = Experience: He hadn’t had sex very much before meeting you, maybe only once or twice. It took some guidance from you but he was a fast learner.
F = Favorite position: He loves missionary, he thinks the intimacy and closeness only enhances the alluring moment between you both. That being said, he also loves when you ride him. He loves anything that makes you feel more close and connected to each other. He also just likes being able to see your face.
G = Goofy: It’s no big secret that Matt’s a goofball. This doesn’t change in the bedroom. Sometimes between positions he’ll tickle your sides, other times he’ll stumble over his words and make a silly face. Something about it is charming and admirable, like he doesn’t change who he is in these intimate moments. He’s still the same goofy guy you fell in love with.
H = Hair: He keeps it neat and trimmed. He’ll let it grow out if he knows he’s not going to see you for a long period of time, but he likes to keep it well tamed when you’re around. His facial hair, however, he will grow out for…personal reasons.
I = Intimacy: Gentle touches and caresses, soft kisses all over your body, sweet whispers of praise…Matt is very intimate. He wants to soak it all in, every delicious second of it. He believes the sensual foreplay and teasing is just as important as the actual intercourse itself. He wants to be as close and passionate with you as he physically can.
J = Jack off: He’s a very organized individual and he has a system for everything, jerking off is no different. Every time he knows exactly what pictures and videos of yours to look at, and he knows he only needs about fifteen minutes max. He’s quiet and composed, though as he gets closer he’ll slip up and let a few whimpers out. He’ll lift up his shirt enough to spill his cum onto torso, then he’ll clean himself up and go back to whatever it was that he was doing before.
K = Kink: Matt isn’t super kinky, but he does have a handful of favorites. He likes choking, spanking, and bondage, but he doesn’t go out of his comfort zone too much to try anything crazy.
L = Location: Matt is a pretty old fashioned guy when it comes to where he wants to have sex. The bed is his favorite because he has you all to himself and doesn’t have to worry about any distractions. That being said, he still enjoys the risk every now and again. The car and the kitchen are his other two favorites. He loves to come up behind you after breakfast and snake his arms around your waist, kissing your neck softly. “You take such good care of me,” he whispers in his gravely sleepy voice. He’ll gently push you to lean over the counter, his hands moving to grasp your hips. “Now let me take care of you.”
M = Motivation: He knows it’s time to drag you to the bedroom when you’re kissing his neck. It’s the one thing that drives him absolutely crazy, and you know it.
N = No: Matt has no interest in pegging whatsoever. He’s fine with experimenting with the submissive stuff, but he draws the line at anything penetrating him. He also refuses to use a gag toy. He wants you to be able to use the safe word if the time ever came, so he ruled out anything that takes longer than 5 seconds to spit out of your mouth.
O = Oral: He doesn’t really care about receiving. He loves it, of course, but he would much rather be taking care of you. He loves to be buried between your legs, in fact he’ll find pretty much any excuse to be there. He will not move forward with anything until he has made you finish on his tongue at least once.
P = Pace: it depends on the mood that he’s in. Most of the time he likes to take his time, slow and sensual sex with soft music playing. But some days he has the animalistic urge to push you down onto the bed and have his way with you. It’s not often, usually only when you get him riled up, like when you manage to incorporate thigh high socks into whatever outfit you plan out. It awakens something primal in him and all he can think about for the rest of the day is what he’s going to do once you get back into his bedroom that night.
Q = Quickie: Matt prefers taking his time with you, so a quickie isn’t necessarily his favorite. But sometimes, in the heat of the moment, he’s game to squeeze a round in before he and his brothers have to leave to film. It’s very rare though, because one time he didn’t get to finish before he had to leave and you could definitely tell that he was irritated by it in the footage they had recorded that night.
R = Risk: Matt does not like taking risks. No shower sex, he wouldn’t want to risk slipping and hurting you. No public sex, he wouldn’t want anyone to see or hear and potentially catch you. If he is feeling risky, he’ll take you to an empty parking garage to have sex in his car.
S = Stamina: Matt can really only go about two rounds before he’s done for the night, but fortunately he also lasts a fairly long time. However, when he hasn’t seen you in a long period of time, a third round is almost guaranteed. He can’t help it, it’s hard not to finish fast the first round when he hasn’t held you in almost three weeks.
T = Toys: This man owns a fleshlight, argue with the wall.
U = Unfair: Love is a word that doesn’t even begin to describe his feelings toward teasing. He practically gets off to it. Watching you squirm and beg for him all while he just tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. “What’s the matter, pretty girl? You don’t like when i do this?” He’ll smirk knowingly as you whine at his words, begging for him to do anything.
V = Volume: Hes not super loud, he doesn’t like the idea of anyone hearing what’s happening in his room when you’re there with him. Not because he’s ashamed, but because he doesn’t like to share. He likes any and all intimate moments with you to be only his. That being said, he still wants you to know how good you make him feel. He’ll grunt and moan softly against your skin, he’ll whisper dirty things in your ear about how perfect you feel around him. He knows just what to do to drive you crazy, he just likes to do it quietly :)
W = Wild card: He secretly enjoys being submissive sometimes, but he will never be the first one to suggest it or initiate it. But when you do suggest it, he is more than happy to fulfil your wishes as well as his own.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): Matt has a great build, he’s not too big but not super scrawny. He’s toned but not ripped. As for what’s in his pants, he has what would be categorized as the perfect dick. Not small but not huge, he has enough to fill you up perfectly every time.
Y = Yearning: His sex drive is pretty high, especially around you. When you’re not there, it’s easier for him to ignore it, but when you’re a foot away from him he feels this almost primal need inside of him. The need to push you down and make you his. When you’re around, there’s no telling when his libido will dip, he just wants it the entire time you’re with him.
Z = Zzz: Matt cherishes the time after sex, he loves getting to snuggle with you and watch a few episodes of your new favorite show or having an in-depth discussion about your ongoing beef with that coworker you don’t like. He doesn’t care as long as he gets to be close to you. He usually won’t fall asleep until you have, and even then he likes to stay up and admire you while you’re at your most peaceful state.
Tumblr media
a/n: hope you all enjoyed! please remember that these are all fictional.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tags: @flowerxbunnie @mattslolita @mattsbratt69 @oversturn @simplysturn @soursturniolo @megamett44-lover @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @plasticferal @cupidsword @liz-stxrn @sturniolosreads @sturnioloskies @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @matthemunch44 @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chris @tillies33ssss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @breeloveschris @meg-sturniolo @ellie-luvsfics @mattsfavwh3re @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @xtravrgnoliveoil @ghostlythinggoingaround @taekwite @rootbeerworshiper
622 notes · View notes
l3monlem0n · 2 months
Text
Some Murder Drones Episode 7 screenshots I thought were interesting and my thoughts on them :>
SPOILER WARNING!!!! is spoilering
Tumblr media
Nori, despite being a middle aged woman with a child, appears to be an Otaku or otherwise likes "edgy" and "scene" stuff, as well as listening to nightcore, very much like her daughter. Good for her tbh you're never too old to have fun
Tumblr media
She also has a photo of Khan and what I can only assume is baby Uzi, though it appears to have blue eyes, but maybe it's just the lighting. Still very cute she has a pic of her husband
Tumblr media
As well as all the previously mentioned Otaku stuff, she also drew herself as an anime character. She has a skinsona. Phenomenal (pos)
Tumblr media
Nothing much here, just Uzi coughing up blood. Girl got the goop (gore) inside of her already
Tumblr media
Lab Space. Apparently the Church was just down there and not even the humans know why. The canonicity of this is questionable; it could just be a joke
OT, as per google, stands for "Occupational Therapy". Makes sense for the context, and makes the bottom text funnier
"Fun Time To Universe Big Crunch: 87". The Big Crunch is a hypothetical way the Universe could end, where the universe folds on itself and shrinks into a single point. 87 "what" I don't know. If it's months, that 7 years and 3 months
Tumblr media
Honestly the Murder Drones lore is super confusing. I think what this is trying to say is that every other Zombie Drone is doing poorly, (Except for Yeva), they are trying to reactivate 002 (Nori) via the USB. I'm not sure what this means. Maybe they only got the results they wanted from the two of them, and are trying again with Nori since she was the only other one that worked (also why they got Yeva when she failed; this may all be referring to how the episode opened up) Also, the date says SER. As revealed in the episode Cabin Fever, Copper-9 has months that Earth does not. SER most likely stands for Seramorris, the month revealed in that episode
Tumblr media
Looks like the "bad event" wasn't the first one. Certainly was the last one though lol
Tumblr media
Just a good pic of ghost/hologram V with the scary stuff. Might use this as a wallpaper
Tumblr media
You can literally see the hole in his neck where N bit him in...
Tumblr media
...And it's to the point his HEAD FALLS OFF. (including because I didn't notice the first time around)
Tumblr media
Yup, the idea that Uzi became the Admin for N and V is completely true. I wonder what would've happened if she didn't, since Cyn didn't react whatsoever
Tumblr media
friggin bug (very pos)
Tumblr media
You would not believe how difficult it was to get a good pic of this (I'm using snipping tool lmao). Always a pleasure to see Uzi's doodles. Things her gun can do (upper right):
NOT judge her
Forced prom date (?)
Allows her to say she had friends before she frickin murdered them with sci-fi machinery
The cut off text at the bottom: Plan B: Normal gun + Shoot really fast
Tumblr media
This is while Tessa is looking for something in the lockers. Claws, chains, magnets, Wings, and scribbled "HELP". Looks like the lockers were all specifically to hold the infected worker drones. Oof
Tumblr media
We are in the future now baby. We have rererererereCAPTCHA. Funnily enough, it still couldn't stop a robot
Tumblr media
There is a message board where someone who doesn't like robots is talking. They also are scared. Also no one else is using this system, which is unsurprising. "Ur aight ;)" Wait is the winky face intentional foreshadowing? Or unintentional?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
We get the names of a bunch of other Worker Drones. Unfortunately for all 029 fans, her name was not visible. (also can someone tell me what "JWEB" could be short for?) And Yeva is said to have a patch. That may be the crucible thing idk
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Cyn (which I will be calling this version Skyn [Skin + Cyn]) apparently took of the space suit just to give Doll the Withered Foxy jumpscare. Honestly really terrifying. If this photo was teased before release I think the fandom would've exploded
Tumblr media
Just N being a good boy :3
Tumblr media
The MDs, Cyn's pets. Nori refers to them as "Nerfed" so the "Entity" can ensure control, and says they were made to destroy other hosts. I don't know why Cyn would want them dead, but I'm not the loremaster here. YouTube line is there because I couldn't be bothered after the Railgun image
Tumblr media
Probably already confirmed, but doubly confirmed that a symptom of the Solver is giving Drones organic insides. A Worker Drone body with a rib cage and guts. I wonder what would happen if the infection continued uninterrupted (also R.I.P. Doll I loved you :frown:)
Tumblr media
I'm sure everyone noticed, but when Uzi tried to manipulate Tessa, the ERROR noticed appeared. Already hinting Tessa is not all she says she is
Tumblr media
Apparently the Solver can create Black Hole Saws. Interesting development (Blackhole Blitz)
Tumblr media
I know most people (I think) see this as a joke and N just being a bit of goofball. But honestly, I think he did it intentionally to shock Cynuzi and give Nori a chance. In the Pilot, he licked V's sword to surprise her too, which means he isn't unfamiliar with doing something weird and surprising for the advantage
Tumblr media
Skyn eating Doll's core. R.I.P. Doll again. Seriously, was that Doll in Core Form like Nori was? Or was Nori a fringe case because she was "Exorcised" and this is just a regular core? Questions, questions. Also yeah the Solver also gives you a Core. Fun
Tumblr media
This tag makes me think that this body is Cyn's actual body. Not longer a hologram, but her actual body from the mansion. The reason Tessa gave N, J, and V their names was because that was the first letter of their Serial Designation (she's very uncreative). However, Cyn's tag was slightly faded, which meant her SD couldn't be seen, so Tessa gave her the name "Cyn" after her P/N, even though the other 3 already have the same P/N as Cyn (Tessa, again, is very uncreative)...
Tumblr media
...and for some reason, Cyn or the Solver, which ever theory you subscribe to, decided to wear Tessa as a skin suit for some twisted reason. It did help her with the Captcha. Also scary because this doesn't have the right proportions for an adult (unless Cyn really forced that skin on), which leads me to believe that this is a Younger Tessa, and she faked having an older voice. Maybe I shouldn't call her my wife... I'm sure Eldritch J is still available :^)
(Seriously, the eyes are burnt out, leaving two eye holes over the visor, so she gives herself two X eyes so it looks better. Also yeah we found out what that thing on the "It Came From Copper-9" poster came from. It really was Cyn or Skyn)
Tumblr media
Just a frame of the final...frame... for coolness. I'm probably also going to use this for a background. Also, this is definitely Copper-9. You can see the ring and ringless moon together on the right. Uzi somehow got sent to orbit after falling in the meat hole
Well that was all for now. This series has consumed me entirely, body and soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Goodbye and goodnight
461 notes · View notes
aluciahaz · 3 months
Note
Omfggg ur writing is SO unbelievably good i love it sm 😭🙏🙏
I got kind of a prompt for a sub!vox x gn (maybe afab) reader ✨ Okay so what if, since we all know vox is OBVIOUSLY a bratty bottom, the reader fucks the brattiness out of him? And he goes from trying to be a dom, to resistant bottom, to bratty bottom, to just begging to come with all his life, maybe even crying cuz the reader won’t let him
TYSM!!!! im glad you think my writing’s good ❤️ALSO FINALLY A VOX REQ AGHH
i have like 50094949 drafts for like all of the other stuff in my inbox but i just have to write this vox fic first ok im self indulgent i apologize 😭
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
—vox x gn!reader
—includes : sub!vox, dom!reader, light bondage, edging
Tumblr media
vox is so obvious.
he clearly has a thing for control. a need, a desire. it was practically his core personality trait. yet, he’s most certainly not made to wield it.
sure, he can try and sweet talk you, saying sultry things and bragging about his power in order to get you to feel below his level. but you know how frail that persona is. a single slip up, and it would all come crashing down into deafening static.
which, was almost impressively easy to do.
his claw-like fingers runs up your neck, one of them stopping at your cheek as he smirked. if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck up and draw blood. he was tip-toeing the small line here.
a small line that if he crossed, you’d switch up this silly little game immediately, taking the control of the show and making him the contestant.
live only for you.
but, you entertain his farce of dominance, a smile playing on your lips as you see what he has in store…if he had anything, that is.
“you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” he asks, clearly rhetorical as he caresses your cheek gently, his voice steady as he speaks. he leads you down to the bed with teeth raking your neck as he crawls over you. there’s something fun about watching him try and fluster you, to get you to say the things he wants. but you were no people pleaser.
“perhaps. unfortunately i can’t say the same for you,” you respond, your smile forming into more of a smirk at the ends of your lips as your hands snake around his delicate waist, tightening around it like a corset.
you can already see the hesitation in his eyes, the brief moment of surprise at your sudden grasp. it was too easy to surprise this man. it’s a wonder he hasn’t exploded yet.
“what do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both nervousness and curiosity, almost like he didn’t want to know. the fingers on your cheek seem to barely just get too rough as he looked at you.
“don’t act like i didn’t hear you in the office this morning, moaning my name like some prayer,” you mock, your knee slotting between his legs with ease. vox keels over at the sudden feeling, a sharp gasp getting punched out of his system with little effort.
“impatient.”
“what’s the big deal? am i not allowed to jerk off anymore?” he complains, bringing himself back up to his hand and knees over you as he glares with indignation.
“i told you to wait.”
“and i don’t remember needing to!” vox snarled, the grasp on your face tightening until you saw him pull it away, a droplet of blood adorning his finger.
simply unacceptable.
instantly, with a loud yelp of complaint and confusion, he hits the mattress with a thud, cursing in annoyance as he looks up at you. his face, once filled with irritation, shifted into one of almost astonished fear as he gazed upon your expression, cold and unforgiving.
“i’ll make you remember.”
his screen flickers before going back to normal, his face scrunched up in anger as he spat out his unwise words.
“i’d like to see you try.”
so, try you did.
his hands were cuffed with plush handcuffs to the bed-frame—you know he wouldn’t be able to handle real ones—and of course since he was never good with self-control, he had a cock ring on as a ‘treat’.
you’re delighted by how much of a fight he puts up though. considering how fragile his ego is, you were sure that he’d melt into your hands the moment you bound him to the bed.
“this is your plan?” vox rolled his eyes, watching you pour lubricant on your fingers with an unimpressed look. “not very impressive. you’ll need more—ngh! shit! give a guy some warning—!”
“beggars can’t be choosers.”
“i don’t fucking beg—!”
“you will.”
there was no mercy from that point forth. one finger after the other, shocks of electricity would course through his veins, mouth agape as your quick hand inside kept making him feel sparks of pleasure through his entire body.
“let me—cum! ass—zz—hole!” he shouted, tugging at the handcuffs to no avail. he wanted to touch himself so bad, yet you were adamant.
“if you ask nicely, maybe,” you tell him, circling your fingers before pressing deep onto that electric spot again, making him cry out in frustration and enjoyment.
all he could do was shoot you a disgusted look before yelling once more, kicking the blanket underneath him in exasperation. his anguish crackled through his veins like a current, trying to fight the urge to just submit.
but it was all too much. he was weak, even if he convinces all of hell that he’s not, he wouldn’t be able to fool you. the bucks of your fingers were replaced with the movement of your hips, making him wail for more.
an hour had passed, and his indignant claims of “i don’t feel anything!” or “you’ll never get me to beg!” shifted into more pleasant glitching screams of “don’t stop!” and “please, more!”
finally, he was using his manners.
“let me cum—ple—zz—se! i c-can’t—!” vox cried out as you quicken the pace, thrashing underneath you with his legs now wrapped around your waist, holding for dear life as you drive into him.
“i—hic—mm! ‘m s—zz—sorry! ‘msorry-AH! sorry!” his back curves off the bed as he squirms, crying in earnest now. tears fell his face with broken pixels blinking in and out underneath, his screen cutting at random points to an error warning from the overstimulation.
“pathetic,” you spit out, your hands digging into his hips as you practically manhandled the man, making him move once he lost all the energy to match your movements. “you listen to me. you do what i say, and you don’t talk back.”
you hear him shriek desperately as you grab his cock, red and weeping as you overwhelm him with pleasure, but never letting him over the edge.
“do you understand? you’re mine.”
you run your finger underneath his tip, and you see him glitch out into an expression you truly loved.
his screen was tear stained and his were graphics broken, yet it was clear enough to see the hypnotizing hearts that pulsated in his eyes as he yelled in defeat, small whimpers leaving his ruined throat as he babbled on and on.
“yours! your—yours! ngh—! please! pl—let me cum! plea—zz—oh, FUCK!”
his whole body trembles from need like electricity burned his skin. his legs fall from your waist, too weak to hold them around you anymore, yet you catch them, pushing the underside of his thighs until he was folded in half.
“cum for me then.”
instantly, vox does as you say as you slip the cock ring off of him, his wails loud enough to shake the room as he finds his release. his screen completely blanks out for a second as a shock flitters around his wrists, frying the cuffs and making them break into two before slumping back down to the bed.
you can’t even scold him for letting his powers go rampant before he pulls you over him, wrapping his arms around you as he sniffles into your ear.
“thank you—hic—thank…thank…”
this big baby. you sigh, rubbing your hands on his sides gently as you kiss his cheek. “yeah, yeah. just remember this the next time you think about acting out, okay?” you said quietly, feeling him nod into your shoulder as he starts to slowly relax.
but as per usual, he apparently forgets what you taught him in the next week.
fortunately, you’re a patient teacher. and you’ll remind him again and again about the lessons he foolishly dismisses.
Tumblr media
sorry that this is shit 💀 i tried my best but the writing juices arent flowing this week😭 hopefully this weekend i wont have writer’s block and will blast through all yall’s reqs!! trust me, im working on them <3
tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist
597 notes · View notes
ghouljams · 4 months
Note
Hi! Shy anon sharing brain rot once again. As always is about The Ghost Distribution System™, because that’s 100% how he’d act and i can’t stop thinking about it.
Anyway, i’ve been specifically thinking about Ghost catching the flu. Gets all of the basic but annoying ass symptoms. Runny nose, sore throat, the not-too-high-but-definitely-debilitating fever, the shivers and body aches.
And despite feeling like death, he’s still coming over to fix that leaky sink you complained about. (Because he’s been through worst and it’s not like he really takes that much care of himself, your needs go first anyway.)
So, you let him in, thank him again for offering to do it himself and saving you a couple hundred in a handyman that would take way longer to do what he insists it’s a simple task. But when he keeps on coughing and needs to stop every few seconds to wipe his nose cause it’s stuffy you definitely notice something is wrong.
And as much as he refuses and insists that he is fine and doesn’t need you to fuss over him (you already do so much for him, show him so much kindness and care. How could he dare ask for more?) you end up feeling his skin and noticing he definitely has a fever.
So now he is laying on your couch, soft fluffy blanket around him (that absolutely smells like you and it’s making his mind even more fuzzy), cold compress on his forehead and a random movie quietly playing on the background as you make him a snack (to help him recover some strength and get some fluids you said).
And while he’s laying there all he’s thinking about though his foggy mind is how he’s going to repay you for this, all the things he can do for you so you keep letting him in every time he comes back.
You're such a saint, you don't want to put Ghost on your couch, not after everything he's done for you. He kicks up a silent fuss when you offer your bed for a nap, his fingers flexing and balling into tight fists. Again you offer a piece of your sanctuary, a place belonging only to you, as if it's nothing. He's sick in more ways than one. Filthy with his desire for you. He argues with you, with his god. Benevolent as you may be, every prophet has challenges placed in the path of his devotion. The devil tempted Jesus with all manners of the flesh, so why wouldn't he tempt Ghost?
Your concern makes you agree. Settling Ghost so gently on your couch that he wonders if even this is too good for him. You disappear long enough for him to wonder against his choice, long enough for him to close his eyes against the fever. You return with pillows and blankets, arranging them and coaxing him to lay down. Your fingers hover around his head, as if laying it on your pillows might be too much of a burden for him. As if he's liable to break if he settles it anywhere but your warm embrace.
You leave him again and Ghost pushes his face against he offered comfort, breathes in your scent greedily and imagines he's laid his head in your lap. You must have brought this comfort from your bed, determined to give him everything he doesn't deserve. It makes his head spin, sick, filthy, he could never repay the goodness you give him. You pull the gently weighted blankets over his shoulders, wipe the sweat from his forehead with a cool cloth, he can't look at you. He can't face the radiant warmth you bestow on him. He's done nothing to deserve it, nothing to warrant this care, nothing that should lead you to coo your gentle praise. It all sticks in his chest worse than any bullet could.
He doesn't deserve it, can't deserve it, you should give your kindness to someone better, to someone who doesn't hoard your care for themselves like he does. It hurts. It hurts and yet the ache is intoxicating. His teeth itch to sink into you, to inflict some of the same pleasure you bring to him. As if he could ever be worthy of such a thing.
"Simon," You hum, melodic, hymnal. He feels his eyes roll with the pleasure of hearing his name before he can open them. You say it so sweetly, like he's never heard it before. His vision swims with fever, but the light halos you and you smile at him. Divinity in your every breath, he could live a lifetime in the moment when your eyes meet his.
"Love," he feels it on his breath, inaudibly whispered, just a part of his lips, a fricative against his teeth. Like any other God receiving prayer you don't hear it. It's better that you don't hear it, the casual affection doesn't fit you right. If there was a bigger word for what he feels, for what you are, he won't find it in this condition.
"Just rest," You bid him, "You can stay here tonight, if you want."
If he wants. As if he could ever want anything else. As if he could turn down an invitation to rest his head in your temple. As if he could ever have the strength to tell you no.
537 notes · View notes