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#I have lots of replies that I have no idea if people saw
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Well there’s child that bites that’s Bruce jr I believe, there is the one that got stuck in the ketchup bottle that one is also real hyperactive so maybe HC those two as twins make em identical nightmare children. I saw a fanfic where one of Bruce’s kids was like super allergic and intolerant to practically everything which causes problems cause Bruce owns a restaurant. And of course there is anarchist daughter. You should definitely give Bruce and brandy at least one pair of twins or triplets to justify him eventually having like 8-9 kids by the time he’s like 40ish.
Thanks for the ideas! Since we basically know nothing about them and most of them I don't even think have names at this point (?) it can be kinda of difficult. Bruce was about 13 when their parents divorced and it has been about fifteen years so Bruce is only about 28 at this point. He's not done having kids but he's got several already.
"Those two are twins, Jr. likes to bite," Bruce grimaced a little as he showed John some pictures. Brandy insisted on driving back home, even though Bruce said he could do it. He wasn't sure what her game plan was but she wasn't taking no for an answer. John just silently looked at whatever Bruce showing him at any given time and didn't seem to mind the rant and chatter. "And his twin is really... hyperactive. I love them to death but wow, they are everywhere, you have no idea."
"I can probably fix the biting," John replied.
He'd been doing that, insisting he could help or fix things or whatever. Bruce really wasn't sure what to make of it. His first instinct had been thinking that John thought there was something wrong with his kid that needed to be fixed and that made him upset. Sure, Jr. shouldn't be biting and they would work on that but he wasn't some broken thing to be fixed.
John said everything so plainly and Bruce couldn't really determine his meaning.
But he kept telling himself that John wasn't exactly himself either. The doctors said he would probably come back to himself. He just didn't really know who his brother was anymore.
"Uh... this one is allergic to pretty much life in general, especially cats, for some reason?" he said, flipping through the photo. "Which is tough because out neighbor loves cats and well... he's been kind of taking a liking to them too."
"Feed him eggs from a farm with barn cats," John replied.
"Uh... what?"
John looked up at him and tilted his head a little. Bruce had to take a moment to take that in. Clay did the same thing. Geez, how was he going to tell everyone else? He'd figure that out later.
"Helps with allergies."
"Okay...? It can be difficult with the restaurant since there is a bunch of stuff he's allergic and intolerant of but we are working on a medication regiment. And he's not really supposed to be around the kitchen anyways," he continued, trying to keep things normal but his speech just kept getting quicker and more excited. "They are going to love you. They have always wanted an uncle living close by. I know technically you don't have to stay out here but it is the best and you have an in!"
"An... in?"
"Me!" Bruce nodded with a grin. "I can get you set up with a fantastic place when you are recovered, if you want. You can stay with us as long as you want, I just know a lot of people tend to be independent so I thought hey, maybe he'd want a little place on the beach or something instead but then again, we haven't really seen each other in..."
"Alright, honey," Brandy interrupted. "You are getting a little excited."
"Where else would he go? We are by far the most financially stable and it's Hawaii for heaven's sake. People would kill to live here. There can't possibly be anywhere better. He doesn't even have an address."
Brandy just shot him a slight glare in the rearview mirror.
"Uh, he's right... uhm about the address thing," John confessed. "If I needed to spend my leave off base, I usually just found a camping spot or stayed with one of my squad."
Brandy's face twisted into something interested and possibly mischievous. John wouldn't have been able to catch it but Bruce definitely could. "Oh! We would love to hear about them! You must be very close."
"We are," John shrugged, lightly. "Might as well be family at this point. Kinda curated an orphans, losers and runaways club. Or in my case, all three," he chuckled.
It was the first time Bruce heard any sound that could possibly be classified as vague amusement from John, although Bruce wasn't entirely sure if it was genuine. He knew one thing; he didn't really like the type of humor.
"Except for Chaz, he's just a fool," John snorted. "They wouldn't let me get rid of him."
"What about the others?"
"Dickory is one of the best. He's very cunning but you can count on him even in strange plans. Pete is retired, not that you'd ever know he was there in the first place. Barely said a word. We useta call him Growly Pete cause that's generally how he was."
Okay. Best friend. Crotchety old man. This was okay. This seemed normal.
"Tresillo... hasn't been with us long but he's shaping up to be a good kid. Needed some discipline but considering his parents weren't exactly in the picutre, I get where he's comin from. He's grown a lot in the time that he's been with us, we're really proud of him."
Brandy glanced at Bruce again. He knew what she was thinking.
He wasn't going to think about it.
"Anyone else?" she asked.
He listed off a few more. "And then... and then Delta."
"Oh! Who is Delta?" Brandy asked with a smile.
"She's mah girl."
His what?
"My partner in crime, the law, whatever you wanna call it," John replied, rubbing his arm and looking out the window. "Go-to gal, best friend, right hand man or I'm hers, whatever you got, it's us. By some miracle the military thought it best to keep us stationed together. She ain't crazy but probably a good choice on their part."
"So, I suppose we will be seeing her visit sometime?"
"I'll haveta call her sister and see what all happened after well, this," John shrugged. "But maybe. It used to be where you found one of us, you wouldn't find the other far behind. I dunno how that'll be now. Things are different, but uhm... I'm hopin' she''ll come around sometime.''
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jamespotterismydaddy · 3 months
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Seven Minutes
luke castellan x reader
A/N: i was so excited to write this request as soon as i saw it so i hope you enjoy!
TW: smut, luke being a cocky little shit
word count: 1,172 words
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Playing seven minutes in heaven is not an appealing idea to you. You don’t like the idea of being trapped in a closet with a guy who isn’t of your choosing and it isn’t some stupid kissing game that’s over in a second, but there is sadly no saying no to Silena Beauregard. Your friend is literally the embodiment of an Aphrodite child with her ability to persuade. For gods’ sake she actually has the word ‘beautiful’ in her name and everyone knows that someone with such a likeness to the love goddess isn’t someone that can be refused.
“There’s going to be lots of good looking people there I promise… Charlie, Clarisse… Luke.” Silena murmurs the last name.
“What?” You’re clearly pissed. She can hear it in your tone.
“What do you mean ‘what’?” She asks innocently.
“What was the last name you just said?”
“Oh, nothing. I was just listing people at camp who are objectively attractive.”
“Just objectively attractive or objectively attractive and playing seven minutes in heaven tonight?” You ask, giving her a pointed look.
“The second one.” She replies quietly.
“I’m not going if Luke is going to be there.” You tell her petulantly, stopping in your tracks like you’re going to turn around and head back to your cabin.
“So you did hear me.”
“I’m not going.” You start to walk back but she grabs your wrist.
“Yes you are!”
“I’m not. I hate him. I want him dead. I pray for his downfall on every quest he goes on.”
“All I can hear is that you spend a lot of time thinking about him.”
“Silena!”
“I’m sorry but if you think about it, all this hatred could just be pent up sexual frustration.”
“It’s not.”
“It could be!” She realizes that she isn’t anywhere close to getting through to you so she holds both your hands in hers. “Please just come. The bottle most likely won’t even land on him anyway. Just think about it as a fun night.”
“Fun night my ass.” You grumble but turn around and begin to walk back to the Aphrodite cabin. Silena giggles excitedly.
When you walk in, almost everyone of the older campers in Silena’s friend group are already there. Your eyes fall on Luke first and he gives you an annoying little smirk.
“Okay, now that everyone important is here…” Silena smiles before sitting down. Clarisse hands her an empty beer bottle. “I’ll go first.” She spins the bottle and grins when it lands on Charles. If your eyes aren’t deceiving you, you could swear Clarisse’s face drops for a millisecond.
The person next to Charles goes next, and then Clarisse goes and now, it’s your turn. You’re not really sure how it’s your turn already, but you aren’t about to argue with Silena over the spinning order. You look at Luke before you spin and he gives you another cocky smirk. You try to ignore him and spin the bottle, doing it perhaps a touch too hard because it goes in circles forever. When the bottle slows, it is clearly about to stop on some Apollo kid before it shifts a little more and lands on Luke.
What the fuck?
He looks away from a son of Boreas to you. “Up you get then, princess.” He stands.
You look at Silena with ‘help me’ eyes but she shrugs with a guilty grin. So now you’re walking over to Luke. He holds out a hand so he can lead you to the closet but you slap it away as you pass him. He turns on a dim light as you enter and shuts the door behind him.
“Look at my luck.” He says in a suave tone, holding his hands out like it was the gods’ bidding.
“Did you really bribe a wind god kid so that the bottle would land on you?”
“Perceptive.” He comments. “I was just lucky that I happened to be sitting North of you. So maybe it is the gods’ will.”
“You think it’s the gods will that we fuck in this closet?” You scoff.
“You said it, baby not me.” His right hand falls to your waist, gripping at your love handles. “But sadly, we don’t have enough time for me to fuck you properly.”
“Get your hands off me.” Your gaze is filled with a lot of passion. Whether that passion is lust or hate, he isn’t sure.
“Make me.”
When you don’t make him take his hands off you (which you most could) he takes that as a sign that you want him just as much as he wants you, so he pulls you in for a rough kiss. You hate how you kiss him back, whimpering into his mouth when you feel his hand slip up your thigh to rub you through your jeans. He slips his tongue into your mouth as he begins to make quick work of your zipper. Luke tugs your jeans down and chuckles at the sight of your lacy panties.
“Were you planning on getting screwed tonight or is this just coincidence?” 
“Shut up.” You murmur before forcing your mouth back against his.
He rubs you through your panties for a second but you both know you’re short on time so he slips them to the side, sliding his fingers through your arousal. 
“Gods, you’re so wet.” He whispers into your mouth before plunging two fingers inside of you, curling them in just the right spot. You whine softly, pissed at how good he is at touching you. He leans his head down and begins to kiss your neck. He suckles on the same spot for about a minute so he leaves a deep red mark. “Oops, left a little colour.”
“Luke!” You scold quietly and he begins to rub your clit with his thumb so you can’t think straight enough to say anything else.
“Just have to let people know who’s girl you are, princess.” He starts rubbing your clit a little harder. “Who’s girl are you?”
You’re feeling so good and you’re so close to your peak that you moan out, “Your girl.”
“That’s right. Cum on my fingers, baby.” He demands and you do right away, squeezing around his fingers as you get your release. “You better get dressed.” He says as he checks his watch. “You’ve got about 12 seconds before they open that door.”
He’s clearly amused as you struggle to get your pants back on in time but that doesn’t mean you don’t notice as he licks your cum off his fingers, moaning just a little bit.
“Times up, lovebirds.” One of the other Aphrodite girls says as she swings open the door.
You walk out as soon as she does and you don’t make eye contact with anyone as you storm out of the cabin.  
“We’re done with the game for today.” Luke says cockily as he quickly grabs both your jackets and chases you out the door for round two.
Silena grins. “I knew it.”
taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33
Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread @kissingyourgrl @vikimontethegirlblogger @maryann2013 @stark-head @remussbitch @ever8ea @batmandabest @jennapancake @junos-web @tanifsblog @stupidtween 
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cinnamonest · 20 days
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I'm not looking to start shit so I'm not linking it or anything, but you may have seen a recent anti-dark-content post circulating with a lot of notes making rounds in the x reader sphere and while I have nothing against people posting their feelings in their own private spaces, every time I see these kinds of posts there's a lot of misinformation that gets regurgitated in the reblogs/replies and I saw what looked like a battlezone in the replies, so.
I know posts like that can be very jarring and affects people like my readers, so to combat misinformation/shaming for anyone who saw it, I'm going to share some of my information on combatting fandom puritanism/misogyny/kinkshaming in its most common forms.
The most important fact, if you read nothing else, is this:
Most women have rape fantasies.
62% to be exact. I think the most pervasive myth on this content is that consumers are "weird" for it, when the numbers don't indicate that. You're in the majority!
The vast majority of people who have rape fantasies do not put them into practice in real life. A variety of factors can determine whether or not they do, particularly specific psychiatric disorders. (X)
To specifically address common harmful and pervasive myths:
the "go to therapy!" line
Generally any academic or professional resource will immediately tell you that consuming and engaging in "dark" fantasies is accepted and encouraged by mainstream psychiatry and part of the professional education for psychiatrists. (This also used to be pretty well-known until like the last 5 years or so, not sure why that changed.)
Here are some particularly insightful resources:
1) This article by Dr. David Wahl, in my opinion, hands-down does the best job of simply and thoroughly explaining why these fantasies occur and why couples practice CNC, as well as the fact that they are both harmless, psychologically beneficial to those with them, and not at all correlated to real-life rape.
2) Dr. Claudia Six has some of the best and most thorough material out there on the subject, specifically explaining why this is taught in mainstream academia psychology and how it is incredibly helpful to rape victims (X).
3) Lisa Diamond is a professional who focuses on this subject a lot, and was featured in the documentary "The Dilemma of Desire," in which she specifically focuses on how these fantasies are not correlated to real-life desires. (X)
4) Dr. Casey Lyle has specifically talked a lot on his socials about how fantasies, even in men/the perspective of the offender, do not correlate to actual risk of offending.
5) This article is not by a professional, but from the perspective of a survivor discussing how it is beneficial to survivors.
the "why would you want that?" line
The idea that fictional tastes = what you want to happen to you in real life is actually of misogynistic origin. I don't want to seek out or add links on this one, but if you're really curious, you can research about how the idea that "women read rape fiction, that means they secretly want rape!" was originally a classic "red pill"/MGTOW/4chan talking point that made its way into mainstream dialogue and thus the public mind in the last 15 years or so due to the incel epidemic popularizing those communities.
the "it's only valid for survivors then!" line
On one hand, yes it's very important to acknowledge that trauma victims use it to cope, however I feel that over-emphasizing that gives the impression that non-victims should be excluded from consumption of dark content, so to clarify, it's a very valid means for all women. Many women who have not personally experienced rape still fantasize about it, and that's fine.
The full explanation as to why this is true for many of them would be lengthy (and addressed in the aforementioned Dilemma of Desire documentary), but in the simplest terms, nonconsensual sex is the only context in which patriarchal society permits women to have sex at all without feeling guilt. For many women, particularly those in more heavily misogynistic or religious cultures, these fantasies are appealing because the idea of consensual sex may give them feelings of shame, guilt, "sin," etc. These fantasies allow them to experience the feeling of being desired without guilt of participation.
No society on earth is free of the psychological grip that cultural misogyny has on women, and shaming women for adapting to the conditions they are forced to exist under is as harmful as the misogyny that causes it itself.
ALL women experience a form of psychological trauma inherent to female childhood and female adolescence in a patriarchal world, and that is just as valid as coping with individual traumatic events.
Good resources on the subject of why women have these fantasies and how they are helpful in general:
(X) (X)
The "what you consume will make you do it in real life!" myth
Although the resources above already address this, it's important to establish why this myth is so prevalent and what its origins are.
The idea that consuming media with dark themes leads to or indicates desires to replicate those acts is a residual element of two major events:
1) Puritan revival culture, popularized in the US and UK in the 90s and 2000s (also known as "Satanic Panic"). A major facet of this movement was TV megachurch preachers making money off of exploiting well-meaning but paranoid parents into believing that your child playing Dungeons and Dragons or Pokemon would make them future serial killers and lure them into satanic cults. (X)
2) at the tail end of this, it was cemented in the public mind as a cultural ripple aftershock of the Columbine shooting, where this sentiment became popularized as the general public blamed violent video games like Doom and "dark" music like Marilyn Manson (whose life was temporarily completely upended by the events and took him years to recover/be safe from) for the 1999 shooting. This event had MASSIVE permanent and global effects in all sorts of ways that the public often underestimates the sheer scope of, notably that it solidified, prolonged, and, in the minds of many, "proved" the paranoias of the preexisting Satanic Panic. (X) This established a precedent, leading to virtually any major horrible event being blamed on the perpetrator's media consumption, including murder and sex crimes.
What this myth ignores in the cases it references (the slenderman stabbings, columbine, sasebo slashing, batman shooting, etc) is two crucial facts: that hundreds of millions of people consume the same media with no negative effects (helpful effects even), and that in every single case cited as "evidence" to the claim, the perpetrator had a preexisting psychiatric condition correlated to acts of violence (which usually went ignored, downplayed and even accelerated/worsened by those around them rather than the help they needed).
Sorry for the wall of text, but I feel an ethical obligation to combat this kind of misinformation, and I hope these resources are helpful for those who may be negatively affected by common misunderstandings.
You are not abnormal or wrong for the fictional content you consume or the fantasies you have!
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saltofmercury · 1 year
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Pairing: König x reader
Plot: Someone breaks into the house at night while you and König are sleeping.
A/N: Had a random idea about what would happen in this scenario.
“The Break in.”
Over three break-ins had happened over the weekend. All unfortunately 4 blocks away from your apartment. Break-ins didn’t scare you. You felt like your apartment complex was in better condition than most of the apartments surrounding the neighborhood. In addition to that, you weren’t too concerned because you were tucked away for the weekend with König.
You didn’t think a person who saw him would even attempt to do something, especially at his own house.
König, on the other hand, was worried sick.
“Maybe you could stay here for a couple more days. It wouldn’t be a bother, honest.”
You didn’t like the sound of it. Breaking into his routine which he then would be uncomfortable with. You knew how he liked his space. He needed a couple days to recharge, be with himself, and then come back to you.
You remember how antsy he got when you overstayed your welcome one weekend. He kept finding excuses to be alone.
“I’m going to read in my office. I’ll be back in about an hour.”
“I’m going to the gym for a workout. I'll be back soon.”
“I know you want to finish your show, I’ll be watching the game in my bedroom.”
It wasn’t until you were getting the shower that he had crept up and asked shyly if you needed company.
You laughed.
“Oh now you want my company?”
He traced his finger along the bathroom counter looking down.
“I never said I didn’t want your company, we just always shower together.”
So you knew keeping yourself here would only have him finding excuses in his own house to find privacy.
König would deny this. He loved your company, he loved waking up next to you with your legs on top of his. Seeing your toothbrush next to his on the counter. He loved seeing your products lined up on the bathroom shelf next to his. Your clothes piled on his dresser, your bras hanging on the doorknobs in his bathroom, or scattered around the floor after hastily getting to devour each other in bed. Small little pieces of you throughout the house reminding him you were home.
Sure he liked his space, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t distance himself from another room for him to recharge and come back to you.
He was adjusting rapidly to you being around him all the time. He wanted you around all the time.
Which is why he wanted you to stay here, in a house, where someone could protect you.
*
König never told you the missions he was on. You sort of preferred that way. He would just tell you the gist of the mission. He was very careful about not scaring you away with what his real job was. He was good at what he did, but he preferred to keep what he was out on the field away from you.
Calmly, while watching you, he gave you just enough to not try and scare you.
“It was a room of about 15 people. I was first one in.”
You stared at him. You knew he was hiding the real him. “Mercenary” was the word he used, however he never described the things a mercenary did.
There was nothing scarier knowing König was a shark at sea but there could be a bigger fish that would one day end it.
Part of you was glad he could protect you and himself from anyone and anything given his training and ruthless alter ego out on the field, but another part of you was worried someone out there would be quicker or one step ahead of him.
*
You packed your overnight bag with your dirty clothes.
“Where are you going?” He stepped out of the bathroom watching you collect your clothes.
“Home, I have a lot of work to catch up on and do laundry.”
“Okay we bring your laptop back here and we can start a load of colors here.” He replied so casually.
You laughed.
“Although that is tempting, it’s fine. I’ll be back this weekend.”
He didn’t like hearing that.
“Baby please, you know how dangerous it is around where you live right now. Just stay one more night. I’ll go pick up your laptop and —“
You cut him off:
“It was 4 blocks away, König. It wasn’t even my apartment. I know I’ll be safe.”
“Well I don’t care if it was in another town, I don’t like the idea of you staying alone when someone is out there like that.”
You turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
“You don’t like the idea of someone robbing houses when your job is ten times scarier?”
He leaned against the bathroom doorway, raising his eyebrow at you.
“Exactly. What if this guy is like me and he’s out there attacking houses because he knows how to do it so well that he’s not getting caught?”
You rolled your eyes
“I'm sure a trained military man is out there robbing houses for fun.”
“y/n!” He stopped you. “This is serious, would you want to run into me?”
You smirked, stood up, and went over to him.
“Yes I would actually, because I know your weaknesses.”
You gently ran your fingers down his stomach.
“I would know how to take someone like you down so easily.” You whispered.
You stood on your tip toes and kissed his chin.
He didn’t like the idea of you flirting when speaking about your life. With that, he took your bag and shoved it into the top shelf of the closet.
“You’re staying here and that's final. I’m not going to risk anything.”
He ended up taking you to your apartment, telling you to get extra clothes, your laptop, and anything else you needed. You settled back into his house again.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” You asked one last time.
“Of course not. I can never have enough of you.”
*
You both had dinner, showered, and got in bed.
He pulled you against his chest and held you close.
“Thank you for staying here. It gives me peace of mind. I enjoy your company.”
You blushed, leaned in for a kiss, and mumbled “if it’s not bother then okay…”
You settled into the night routine you both had. He watched a show on his iPad, while you read through a book before both falling asleep.
*
It was around 3AM when you heard the speakers in the living room turn on. Your eyelids still closed, you searched for König with one arm. An empty space in bed. You sat up, fear crawling up your throat.
König was already up and placed himself by the doorframe, a bat in hand, mask covering his face, and shoes on.
Had someone come inside the house? Another crash, scratches on the floor, and some scrambling.
König looked back at you, told you to stay put.
“Do. Not. Leave. This. Room.” He said it low, his accent had come out. He looked at you, but you didn’t recognize this König. He stood different, sounded different. You felt your stomach turn, the hair on your neck rise.
Where did he get the bat from?
Now you were scared. You weren’t ready to see this kind of person he was.
You heard his calculated footsteps as he checked the hallway bathroom and guest room, slamming open the doors so hard and loud they bounced against the walls. He continued to stomp all the way down towards where the sound was.
You suddenly felt safe, how thorough he was checking all the rooms and how bravely he went into each room announcing himself with just his body. You were now glad you stayed with him.
… then out of nowhere, you heard him laughing. A loud, boisterous, breathless laugh.
You shouted from the room “Who is it?!”
You hear him drop the bat, the bat clinking on the floor. Footsteps followed closer to the door.
“Not who schatz, but what.” His voice had come closer. Standing there, he was holding a small baby raccoon. The raccoon was being held up by his neck with one hand, and his other hand placed underneath him.
You screamed —“Becareful! We don’t know where it’s been!”
König tilted his head at you and then mumbled “it’s only Monty’s baby.”
Monty?
König went to the backyard and placed the small raccoon outside. He came back into the house, washed his hands, and walked into the room.
What just happened?
“What was that?!” You were confused, at a loss for words.
He settled himself back into bed and pulled you close.
“Monty is the raccoon that lives in the backyard. She had babies.”
You looked up at him still confused.
“All this time you’ve been staying here and you haven’t seen Monty and her family?” He asked innocently.
“I’ll tell you all about them.” He turned the light off.
What was happening? Was this a dream?
Part of you was still confused but you settled in and relaxed anyway. The other part of you was secretly relieved that because of him, you felt safe enough to go back to sleep.
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roosterforme · 3 months
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Explicitly Yours | Bob Floyd x Reader
Summary: When Bob met you, he fell for you hard and fast. He thought you might be his perfect match, the one that would make his days feel full instead of lonely. He never would have dreamed you had a secret. But secrets are known to be revealed at the most inconvenient of times, and Bob's surprised hesitation could cost him the thing he wants most.
Warnings: Smut, oral, fluff, angst, misogyny, language, mentions of adult film industry
Length: 11k words (what have I done?)
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Former Pornstar!Female Reader
This was written for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month hosted by @attapullman. Check my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger
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Bob was fresh off of a long deployment when he returned to work at North Island on Monday morning to find he would begin training as part of a new taskforce. He was tired and antsy, still overstimulated from being around so many people on the aircraft carrier, but he was also realizing how lonely he was. 
He'd arrived back to a sterile, empty, dusty apartment, slept for two days, and now he was back to work. He couldn't even have a cat or a houseplant. He really would like to have a cat or a houseplant. Mostly he thought about how nice it would be to have a girlfriend. A sweet one who would wait for him to return home so his apartment didn't feel so sad. One who didn't mind that sometimes he preferred it to be quiet. One who would let him dote on her a little bit when he was home.
When he was told to report to Classroom Six in his uniform instead of the tarmac in his flight suit, Bob knew it was going to be a long day. That idea only grew as soon as he walked in and was accosted by his friends. "You're back!" Natasha screeched, streaking across the room like a brunette cannonball and slamming into his arms. "It's not even fair that we weren't deployed together. I missed you!"
"Missed you too, Nat. Thanks for all the emails."
Then he felt Bradley, Jake and Javy all jostling him around until his glasses were crooked on his face. That's probably why he did a double take when he saw you. There was no way you were that beautiful. His glasses must need to be adjusted on his face. But he was wrong. You looked the same after he pushed his wire frames back into place. 
He swallowed hard and whispered, "Who's that?"
The guys all looked at him with matching smirks, and Javy told him your name. "Civilian. She's Warlock's new assistant. Got reassigned from a different department last week."
"She's real cute," Jake added. "And she looks so familiar."
"Why does she look so familiar?" Bradley asked, and Bob realized that the whole group was staring at you where you were conversing quietly with Warlock. "We've been trying to figure it out for a week."
You didn't look familiar to Bob. You just looked pretty with bright eyes and a friendly smile, both of which were trained on him now. Of course you were looking his way now, because everyone had mussed up his hair and wrinkled his uniform. He didn't mind so much that you caught him staring, because you were the kind of woman who must get that a lot.
"Lieutenant Floyd," Admiral Bates said as he stood, and Bob saluted his superior officer immediately. "Welcome back."
"Sir," Bob replied, doing his best not to let his gaze drift back to you. "Thank you."
Then Warlock called the room to order, and Bob ended up sitting in the front row, directly across from you. Barely six feet away. You were so pretty, it wasn't even funny. The curve of your face and your neck and the way you moved were mesmerizing. Smooth and fluid. Confident. Beautiful. You kept Warlock on task and seemed to have all the pertinent information about the class memorized. But all of it was lost on Bob, because he was way too distracted. 
By lunchtime, he had sweat through his undershirt, and he was sure his uniform shirt wasn't looking much better. The way you turned to look directly at him with a slightly guarded expression when you stood made him blush. It must be obvious to you that Bob couldn't keep his eyes off your face.
"Hi," you greeted. "Lieutenant Floyd."
Bob swallowed hard before something that sounded vaguely like Hello came out of his mouth. 
Your smile was tinged with a little sadness as you stuck out your hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting the last team member. Welcome back from deployment, Lieutenant."
And then you were walking away, but Bob was still sweating.
--------------------------
For the next four days, Bob got there early to ensure he had that same front row seat. He had a full blown crush. Heart pounding, palms damp, unable to focus on anything other than his crush on you. When he wasn't at work looking right at you, he was daydreaming about you. When he wasn't daydreaming about you, he was asleep and having actual dreams where you were his girlfriend. In one of them, you gave him a back massage, and he woke up with an erection. 
He could barely even look at you for the nauseous feeling that took up residence just below his pounding heart, but he couldn't look anywhere else. He'd never been like this before. Sure, he'd been attracted to many women in the past, but this was something else entirely. 
"But why is she so familiar looking?" Jake asked Bradley at lunch. "You sure you didn't fuck her?"
"Oh, I think I'd remember fucking someone that looked like that," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Wait... did you fuck her?"
"I don't think so?" Jake replied, looking a little panicked. "She's not the one I went home with on my birthday, is she? Because you know I can't remember that night. And if I fucked her and can't remember it, then I deserve to be executed."
They both erupted into laughter with Javy, and Bob felt deflated. One of the three of them was definitely going to ask you out sooner rather than later, and instead of getting an occasional guarded glance in his direction, Bob would have nothing.
That night at the bar, he sat with his cup of peanuts and talked with Nat about work while everyone else played pool. "I guess we have another week or two of lectures ahead of us, but I can't wait to get back in the air."
"Yeah," Bob replied, glancing around the room in case the Hard Deck was your Friday night scene. It wasn't really his, but he came for his friends. And if he got to spend another week or two in the classroom, he wasn't going to complain; there would be no way for him to look at you when he was in the cockpit. 
"Bob!" Javy called as if he'd been trying to get his attention for a few minutes. He was waving a pool cue. "Take over for me. I need to go shoot my shot."
As Bob stood, he watched Javy head off into the crowd toward a woman who looked like you. He did a double take, his heart leaping up into his throat as Bradley started to push him closer to the pool table. Javy saw you. He was going to ask you out. A feeling of devastation filled his lungs, but then the woman turned around, and it wasn't you. Her smile wasn't nearly as pretty, and she didn't have the same eyes. 
Relieved, Bob sank the seven ball before running the table like he was some sort of pro. But he knew deep inside that he was going to have to ask you out himself or miss out on even having a chance with you. 
Every day the following week, he tried to give himself a pep talk. He could do this. Even if you said no, it would be fine. It would be good practice for him. But he knew it would not be okay. He liked the sound of your voice and the way you moved, and he thought about you in every room of his apartment doing a wide variety of things. Some of them made him blush.
He couldn't tell if it would be worse to never even try or to have to live with himself after you looked at him and said you weren't interested. At least if he kept things quiet, the guys couldn't find a way to make fun of him. And although they all liked to talk about you at lunch, to his knowledge, none of them had asked you on a date. Maybe they were as intimidated as him.
On Wednesday, you dropped your pen, and Bob picked it up for you. He got a "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd," in response along with a cautious smile. Then on Thursday, he helped you move the projector before class started, and you said, "Thanks. You're a lot stronger than I am." He felt like he floated to his seat after that. 
On Friday, disaster struck. You were organizing your stack of notes at the end of the day when Bob stood. But then Bradley was there, leaning on the table in front of you after everyone had been dismissed. "Hey, so the guys and I were wondering if you ever made it out to the Hard Deck on Friday nights? I'd love to buy you a drink."
Bob nearly collapsed back into his seat as he watched your eyes searching Bradley's face like you were trying to tell if he was lying. "No, actually. I play Dungeons & Dragons most Friday nights."
A strangled sound escaped Bob. "You play D&D?" he asked before he could think better of it. 
"Yeah," you replied easily, giving him a little smile. "Been into it for years."
"Me too," he added, and you set down everything you'd been holding. 
"It must be hard to be part of a campaign when you deploy on occasion?" you asked, and Bob was convinced he wouldn't notice if a freight train was about to hit him. 
He nodded and took a step closer, watching you stand up. "It can be, yeah. But I've been in the same campaign for a few years, so I'd like to think I'm an integral enough part of it that everyone else doesn't mind waiting for me."
You laughed. It was so pretty. "I'm sure they don't mind one bit, Lieutenant Floyd."
"You can call me Bob," he blurted out, eyes going wide as you licked your lips and grinned. 
"Okay. Bob."
He could do this. He was already part way there, he thought. Just a little further. "Maybe you and I could get coffee this weekend and talk about our characters?"
When he was met with silence and your softly parted lips, he wanted to disappear. But your expression was trained on his face, and even though you still seemed a little hesitant, you asked, "Like a date? Because I'm free on Sunday."
-------------------------
You were laughing so hard, you had to set your coffee cup down next to your scone, and Bob was basking in the sound of it. "No, Bob! That's why I made my character a Rogue! Because I could never be such a scoundrel in real life!" He just listened to your laughter taper off while he grinned in the middle of the crowded cafe where you only seemed to be focused on him. 
"Well, that's why I made mine a Sorcerer. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I can't actually cast spells."
You started to laugh again. "Could have fooled me." But he must have been looking at you for too long, because you brought your hand up to your lips and asked, "Do I have crumbs on my face or something?"
"No, your face is perfect," he replied without considering his words, but your look of slightly embarrassed delight outweighed the tinge of mortification he felt.
You searched his eyes, seemingly always trying to gauge his sincerity. Then you surprised him when you said, "You're really sweet. It's refreshing." 
Bob looked down at his hands, unsure how to respond but pleased nonetheless. "Will you let me take you to a movie? Or dinner? Or both?"
"Yes."
The following morning at work, you were as focused on Bob as he was on you. The sweaty palms and erratically beating heart were back, only exacerbated by your alluring gaze and the promise of a second date on Thursday night. You agreed to dinner at an Italian restaurant, and Bob was already excited. 
"Why are you acting so strange?" Nat asked at lunchtime. "You're like both weirdly quiet and also talking so much?"
Bob laughed and said, "I went out on a date yesterday." And when he said it was with you, her eyes went wide. "We're going out again on Thursday."
"Bob!" she gasped, and now all of the guys were looking at him, and there was no way he would ever recover from this as Nat told them he got coffee with you.
"Welcome to the big leagues, buddy," Jake drawled, while Bradley glared at him. "Just wish I could figure out why she seems so familiar. Like it's just stuck in the back of my mind somehow. Like I know her."
"None of you know her as well as Bob does," Nat said with a laugh that made him smile. Before you and he parted ways at the coffee shop, you'd squeezed his hand in your smaller one, and it was already one of the sexiest moments of his life.
"Fuck you, Bob," Bradley grumbled. 
But it didn't matter. Bob really liked you and the fact that you talked about your Dungeons & Dragons character for a full hour. And your pretty face and your laugh. And the way you seemed interested in what he had to say. You were checking off all of the boxes for him. Smart, funny, kind of nerdy, interesting. He wondered how many dates he should take you on before asking you to be his girlfriend.
On Wednesday, as soon as Warlock dismissed everyone, you handed Bob a folded up note.
I can't wait for dinner tomorrow night. Here's my number.
He waited until he was home and sitting on his couch before he texted you. Less than a minute later, you responded. And that's how he spent the rest of his night. He didn't even eat until after nine, too wrapped up in what you had to say. Those intrusive thoughts and daydreams and real dreams about you in his apartment were starting to seem like they could be a reality. That's what he wanted. He could already picture you on the couch, wrapped up in the afghan his mom made, watching a movie with him. Or in his kitchen, helping him make dinner. 
He fell asleep on the couch in his uniform, too absorbed in this conversation to even go to bed properly. But that was fine, because suddenly it was Thursday, and not only would he see you all day at work, he'd get to eat with you and learn more about you.
Once again, Bob slid into that front row seat, and you had to work at keeping the smile from your face all morning. When you did look his way, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He was sure he'd pass out if you kissed him, and suddenly that was the only thing he could think about. Warlock talked about aggressive maneuvering, and Bob thought about your lips. Warlock talked about safety protocols, and Bob thought about your lips touching his.
It would be a miracle if he made it through dinner, but he had to try. You stood and started walking out of the classroom at the end of the day, but you turned back and said, "I'll meet you there at 7:30."
Bob offered to pick you up, but you said you'd drive yourself, and now he had more than two hours to kill. He took a long shower and fixed his hair before dressing in the outfit that Nat had pre-approved for him. He made sure his glasses were straight and that he had his credit card. The only other thing he could do was hope the conversation would come as easily for him this time, as it had over coffee.
He shouldn't have been worried about that. What he should have been worried about was the way his heart stopped when you walked through the front doors of the restaurant and directly for him, wearing a pretty blue dress with your face all made up like he was someone to impress. 
"Hi, Bob," you whispered. Then you kissed his cheek at the same time that he started to turn his head, and his lips nudged yours. He stood there shocked as you slipped your hand into his, and you started to tug him toward the waiting table when his name was called. 
His ears didn't stop burning the whole night. His brain kept circling back to the idea of another kiss. An intentional one. A kiss after a second date was not something he'd ever attempted before, but he was going to do it tonight. Based on the way you were looking at him, he had to. 
"Do you want more wine?" you asked, holding up the bottle. 
"Yes, please," he replied, because that would definitely help his cause. 
You smiled as you poured him some. "You have lovely manners." When you set the bottle down, you added, "And really pretty eyes."
Bob counted to three and then said, "I know we didn't even eat dessert yet, but I really like you. And tomorrow is your D&D night, but maybe you'll let me take you to a movie on Saturday?"
After dinner, in the parking lot next to your car, Bob kissed you. Intentionally. The first tilt of his head was hesitant, and when his lips met yours, he started to get nervous and pull away. But you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and you chased him for another kiss. "Which movie are we seeing?" you asked as you rubbed your nose gently along his.
"You can pick," he replied before kissing you again. "I just want to be around you." And then his hands found the small of your back and you inched yourself closer until your chest was touching his and your knee was bumping his leg.
You were smiling when he finally pulled his face away from yours. "I'll text you my address and the movie I want to see."
Bob smiled, too. "And then I'll pick you up, and we can go to the theater."
This was probably the best week of his life. He watched you pull out of the parking lot, and you waved to him through your window after you blew him a kiss. He went home and thought about what he might be able to cook for date number four. Perhaps you'd want to do the movie on Saturday and then have dinner at his place on Sunday? He'd figure it out. Either way, he was excited for more. 
"A third date?" Nat asked on Friday when everyone was taking a break in the classroom. "Damn, Bob." 
He eyed you where you stood talking quietly with Warlock, and you glanced his way, a soft smile on your lips. "I really like her. She's different. In a good way. And she makes me feel comfortable."
Nat rubbed his back in slow circles. "Make sure you put your arm around her during the movie. She might be expecting it. But if she doesn't snuggle against you, then you should remove it."
He nodded and swallowed. "Right. I can do that. Is it too soon to invite her over to my apartment for dinner?"
"I don't think so," she replied softly. "And maybe you should buy some condoms."
Bob's cheeks immediately flushed, but he didn't mind too much, since it was just Nat. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet."
"She seems sweet. Just tell her what you're feeling when the time comes."
Now everything was making Bob a little nervous as he drove through your neighborhood on Saturday night. He passed modern beachfront house after modern beachfront house, and then his GPS told him he had arrived. He saw your car in the driveway, but the house was gorgeous and must be worth a ton of money. Maybe you had a roommate? 
He parked his old truck and headed up the sidewalk with butterflies in his stomach and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You opened the door before he even knocked, and then you were in his arms and invading his senses. "Are those for me?" you asked, kissing his cheek and poking the flowers. 
"Yes," he whispered, silently begging you to let him hold you for a few more seconds while he caught his breath and got himself under control. You turned him on in every way, and he'd never encountered this before. 
Your soft voice next to his ear as you chuckled and said, "Thanks, Bob," was not helping. You led him inside, and your house was incredible. There were no signs of a roommate, but there was a view of the ocean from the windows along the back of the house. He watched you bend in your little dress to find a vase for the flowers, and he felt completely overwhelmed. 
"Ready to go?" you asked, reaching for his hand a minute later. Your eyes were eager and sincere as you gazed up at him. Your fingers were laced with his, and Bob realized if he wanted to get to the next step with you, he needed to get through tonight.
"Yes." He kissed your lips softly, and you leaned against his arm as he walked you out to his truck. 
You spent the drive to the movie theater telling him all about your Friday night playing Dungeons & Dragons, and of course Bob felt more relaxed. He bought the tickets, and you got the popcorn, and when he put his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled against him, so he kept it there. By the end of the movie, the empty popcorn bucket was on the floor, and you had your palm resting on his thigh. 
"Did you like it?" you asked softly while the end credits scrolled. 
"Yes, I liked it," he promised, accepting another of your kisses.
"It's still early. Want to grab a drink somewhere?"
Bob really only knew one place, because he spent an awful lot of his free time there. "Should we hit up the Hard Deck? And then I can take you home and hopefully get another goodnight kiss?"
You had one eyebrow raised as you considered him. "Even after the third date? You're not going to try to make a move?"
Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he muttered, "Not yet." And then your lips were all over his like he'd answered your questions correctly, even though he felt like his thoughts on the matter were actually probably wrong according to most people.
Eventually the two of you made your way to the bar, but visiting the Hard Deck was a mistake that he didn't see coming. You were tucked perfectly against his side as Bob walked across the parking lot and listened to you tell him how much you liked working for Admiral Bates. Then you ordered two vodka sodas, and Bob had to pluck your credit card from your hand to keep you from paying for them. 
"Hey!" you complained, but he just smiled. 
"I'll give it back later." He was rewarded with another kiss on the cheek, this one very close to his lips. 
"Well, look who's here," Jake drawled obnoxiously over the music from the jukebox and the noise from the crowd. "Bob and his friend."
You rolled your eyes and laughed, but you kept one hand linked with his as the drinks were set down. "Should we say hi to your friends?" you asked, and Bob nodded even though he really wanted to just find a small table on the other side of the room. But Nat looked excited, and the other guys looked annoyed, so Bob thought a short detour might be fun.
"Hey," Bob greeted everyone as you sipped your drink. 
"How was the movie?" Nat asked, elbowing Bradley in the side before he could say anything.
"Pretty good," you replied. "You know, for one of those Academy Award bait films." 
Bob laughed and looked at you. "I liked it a lot, actually." Or maybe he just liked sitting with his arm around you for two hours at a time, but he wasn't going to say that in front of everyone else.
Javy tapped a pool cue on the ground and asked, "Do you like to see a lot of movies?"
You nodded with a bit of an apprehensive look on your face that had Bob just about ready to pull you over to the table that another couple was vacating. "Yeah... I like films," you replied softly. 
And then Jake's jaw dropped open and he slapped the edge of the pool table. "Oh my god!" His green eyes were wide as he looked you up and down from head to toe with a smirk that made Bob want to stand in front of you. "That's why you look so familiar! You're Roxy Luxxe."
"Oh, fuck," Javy said as he dropped the pool cue on Nat's foot, and Bradley choked on his beer. 
But Bob just stood there and watched your posture stiffen and the look of apprehension on your face grow. "Who?" he asked softly, but you wouldn't meet his eyes.
"She's a porn star, Bob!" Jake said a little too loudly as he hooted. "A very memorable one, too. Played up different movie genres. Everyone I Did Last Summer. Sisterhood of the Traveling Sluts. Laid in Manhattan. Some real classics!"
"I retired," you said firmly, holding eye contact with Jake even though your voice sounded strained. "I left the industry five years ago."
"Guys," Nat said with a warning tone as she looked at Bob who was frozen in place, his head swarming with wild thoughts. An adult film star? You? But you worked at Top Gun and played D&D and liked scones. You went on three dates with Bob of all people.
Now Nat was physically moving Javy, Bradley and Jake back toward the game of pool, snapping her fingers at them as they continued to ogle you in your pretty dress. "So..." you whispered, turning toward Bob, looking anywhere but at his face. "That was... yeah..."
He had no idea what to say right now, and the longer he went without saying anything, the worse he felt inside. You used to have a job making adult films? Bob couldn't even handle watching those without blushing and stuttering. You must have had sex with dozens and dozens of different men and probably women too, and Bob suddenly realized he could go home and watch them for himself if he really wanted.
"Right," you said, finally looking at him as your eyes started to fill with tears. "Well... no hard feelings, Bob. I'll see you at work on Monday." Then you set your drink down, covered your mouth with one hand and made a beeline for the door.
Bob looked at the drink in his hand, and then at the one you set down. He left his on the table next to yours and followed you out to the parking lot. He looked around, calling your name and checking to see if you were by his truck, but you didn't respond. You were gone. 
Roxy Luxxe. That name was made up, and he didn't think it suited you as well as your real name. That one was perfect, and he liked it. He liked you. He could drive back to your house, but if you didn't want to talk to him, then what was the point? He'd already embarrassed himself by clamming up. But even worse, he thought he might have embarrassed you. 
"Damn it," he muttered, angry at Jake and all of them for making you feel small, and angry at himself, too. He got in his truck and drove himself home.
----------------------------
Well. You got three perfect dates before it all blew up in your face. Three amazing dates with Bob who was going to look at you like you were no longer worthy of his time now. Sure, you would have told him eventually. After another date or two, you would have brought it up in such a way that perhaps could have been a little bit more flattering or at least slightly tasteful. But of course you should have been expecting this. It wasn't the first time. Getting older only did so much for your face, and it didn't matter how much you changed your hair and makeup: Once Roxy Luxxe, always Roxy Luxxe.
You really thought none of them recognized you. It was almost refreshing that Bob had never heard of your alter ego. He probably never saw a single video of you having sex with Sam Slick or Dickie Divine. He didn't know exactly what your tits looked like, because you'd never taken your shirt off for him in person. He didn't know how you sounded when you faked an orgasm. As you ran down the block and got an Uber, you could hear Bob calling for you.
You weren't ashamed or embarrassed. You were not. This was your life, and you made every decision along the way for yourself. Nobody else. You put yourself through school. You bought the house of your dreams. You had an amazing job at Top Gun now for fuck's sake. But Bob was the first guy you met in a long time who made you think you could have a relationship with someone who wouldn't judge you for your past.
You walked from your Uber into your house and kicked your shoes across the entryway. More tears were filling your eyes, but you didn't want to cry again. Not over this. "But he was sweet," you whispered to your reflection in the hall mirror. His friends were kind of assholes, but he wasn't. Even if he didn't want to be with you now, which was understandable, those three dates were something else. Dungeons & Dragons discussions and coffee and pasta. 
You sighed wistfully at the flowers in your kitchen. Maybe a few more years and you'd look even less like Roxy Luxxe. That might make things easier to navigate. You made yourself a cup of tea and grabbed some crackers and sat out on your back deck where the moonlight reflected off of the ocean. The way Bob had wrapped his arm around you during the movie made it easy to imagine him here with you, keeping you warm. Instead you grabbed a blanket and snuggled in as you thought about how he would have been an excellent boyfriend. 
"You win some, you lose some," you told the night sky. If he was bothered by your past which you had designed so you could have a future, then he wasn't the one for you. You fell asleep outside in your dress, and the rising sun eventually woke you up. When you stretched and stood, the chilly air sent you running inside and toward your shower. 
The memories of last night were hanging out in the periphery of your mind. Going to work tomorrow was going to be awful. If you didn't like Admiral Bates so much, you'd request to work under someone else. But then again, why should you have to go to work feeling bad? Yeah, it was going to sting to see Bob, but it was still your job, and you deserved to be happy. 
You showered and took your time until all of your skin felt fresh and new, and then you threw on some oversized sweats after you moisturized. After breakfast, you could see if one of your friends from D&D was free to hang out. You were finally just about to check your phone to see if Bob had attempted to reach you when you heard a knock at your door. 
Bob's truck was parked in your driveway just behind your car. You could see it through the front window. According to your phone, he tried to call you twice, and he'd send you a handful of texts. But now he was here and knocking again. It was obvious you were home, so you wrenched your front door open and stood before him with your chin held high.
"What do you need?" you asked, already feeling weak at the sight of his pretty blue eyes and his glasses. 
"Hi," he said softly, just staring at you. He looked exhausted, like maybe he hadn't slept. Then he fumbled around in his jeans pocket and pulled out your credit card. "This is yours."
You plucked it from his hand and started to close the door. "Thanks for returning it. I'll see you at work."
Then he said your name. Your real name. "Wait. Please?"
You pressed your lips together. "What do you want, Bob?" 
The soft rise and fall of his solid chest held your attention while he started stuttering. "L-Look. I'm really sorry about last night."
You nodded. "Me too." It wasn't like you wanted to know, but you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "I take it you went home and looked up my videos?"
His eyes went wide as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I didn't."
You actually believed him, but you felt like making yourself hurt anyway. "Your friends have all seen me naked. Watched me getting fucked."
He seemed surprisingly calm as he half shrugged and kind of nodded. "So what?"
As you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, you said, "I'm not ashamed of anything I've ever done, okay? And I would have told you about it after another date or two... before we slept together." When he remained silent you added, "I started out in the adult film industry when I was eighteen. I quit when I was twenty five. I just turned thirty last month, and I guess I was silly for thinking enough time had passed. But last night was a prime example of why I haven't even tried to date anyone. Ever, really."
Bob was gaping at you now. "Not ever? But you're... you're so..."
"I know," you said, cutting him off before he could finish. "I'm hot enough to do porn, but nobody wants to date me." 
You started to close the door again, but he scrambled. "N-No, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say you're flawless. A-And I shouldn't have let you leave the bar like that last night."
Your fingers loosened on the door, and soon it was drifting away from you, opening wider for Bob as he stood there with an eager expression. God, you just really liked him. And he seemed like he was being sincere. "What would you have done differently last night?" you whispered. 
He started to reach for you before tucking his fingers in his jeans pocket. "I would have taken your hand in mine as soon as I saw tears in your eyes." You bit your lips as he added, "And I would have told you that I like you so much. And if you wanted to leave, then I would have driven you home right away and walked you to your door."
He liked you so much. If there was a chance that Bob could be the kind of guy who still liked you with your past as Roxy Luxxe but also wasn't just trying to get in your pants and meet her for himself, then you wanted to give him a shot. "What would you have done after you walked me to my door?"
He was breathing deeper like he was nervous, and you wanted to touch him. "I would have asked you for that goodnight kiss that I'd been hoping for all day."
You were rushing for his arms, clearly surprising him in the process, but he held onto you as you gave him just the softest kiss. "I would have let you have it." Bob's hands found their way to the most respectful spot on your back, and you kissed him a little deeper. 
As soon as you broke the kiss, his fingers flexed against your back, and he said, "I want to go on another date with you. A bunch more. But I want you to be sure about me. I don't really care about Roxy Luxxe. I'm sure she was lovely, but I like you." You laughed. You couldn't help it. And he smiled as he asked, "Maybe you can think about it today and let me know at work tomorrow?"
"Okay."
He nodded and let out the breath he was holding. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."
Your back felt cold where his hands used to be as you watched him walk back to his truck. He waved to you as he pulled out of your driveway, and you waved back with a different feeling in your heart than you had twenty minutes ago.
---------------------------
Bob was disappointed to find he would be in the air on Monday. When he arrived on base, he changed into his flight suit instead of his khaki uniform, wondering what that would mean when it came to seeing you. He'd slept poorly, wondering what your answer would be, hoping you'd say yes to another date.
"Hey, Bob," Jake drawled as Bob zipped up his flight suit. "How was your night with Roxy Luxxe?" He had a devilish smirk on his face, and Bob's skin was crawling. All of the other guys were looking at him now, and he knew his face was beet red. 
"I guess she was as good as she looks on film if she rendered you speechless," Jake added with a laugh. 
"Whoa, no," Javy said, shaking his head at Jake before looking at Bob. "Cut it out, man."
Bob counted to five, took a deep breath and then raised his forearm, and at least Jake had the decency to look panicked. Bradley stepped into the fray as Bob used his arm on Jake's chest to push him back against the lockers. Sure, Jake was more muscular, but Bob was no slouch, and he had a couple inches on him. "Don't call her that again. Don't even talk about her. While you're at it, don't look at her either."
Jake raised one eyebrow and nodded slightly, and Bob released him, walking right out of the locker room and making a quick detour to the classroom. But you weren't there. He ran his hands through his hair before he headed outside to find Nat. 
"Hey, there you are," she said gently. "You okay? After the bar and everything?"
"I'm fine," he replied, still looking around. "Have you seen her?"
"Mmhmm," she hummed, pointing behind Bob, and he whirled around in time to see you walk out of the tower with Warlock and Cyclone. You looked as pretty as you always did, and Bob found himself wanting you the same way today as he had last week. All of the daydreams about making breakfast together after holding you in his arms all night were still there. So were the thoughts about you snuggled up, laughing on his couch. But now he could also imagine taking walks on the beach where you lived.
Your gaze met his, and he watched you excuse yourself from the admirals before heading his way. Nat squeezed his bicep, and muttered good luck before making herself scarce, and then Bob was standing there with you a respectable three feet in front of him. 
"Lieutenant Floyd."
He smiled softly. "Good morning."
"So..." you began, looking down at his boots and pressing your lips together. "I'm free on Wednesday night. Or pretty much all day Saturday." Your eyes trailed up his body until you were nervously examining his face. "What did you have in mind for our fourth date?"
He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He'd been so apprehensive, afraid you were going to tell him to beat it, he hadn't bothered to come up with an actual date idea. "Cooking dinner at my place?" he blurted out.
You nodded like that sounded good to you. "Wednesday night then?"
He couldn't remember if he already had plans, but if he did, he'd cancel them immediately. "Yes. Wednesday. The day after tomorrow. Wednesday."
Your soft laughter filled him up as you turned and started to walk away, giving him just one word. "Wednesday."
--------------------------
You showed up to Bob's place with just a bottle of wine. He promised to take care of the rest. An hour later, a completely homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella and herbs was baking in the oven, and you had your arms draped around his neck. His lips tasted like the pinot noir the two of you had started drinking while you made the pizza, and his body felt strong and sure. As of right now, you thought you'd made the right choice by coming here.
"I really like you," he whispered for the third time this evening, and you believed him. You liked yourself. Why shouldn't he? 
"I like you, too, Bob." You reached up and adjusted his glasses before letting your fingers trail back through his hair. As his hands slid slowly down to your hips, it was easy to imagine how he might be in bed. Authentic. Meticulous. Earnest. Just like he was at work. The thought thrilled you to no end, but you were also afraid of the way you'd feel afterwards if you rushed it just to get the first one out of your system. So you let him hold you like you were important. 
The timer buzzed, and Bob laughed as you jumped further into his arms. You buried your face against his neck. "It's not funny." But you were laughing, too, and his lips met your hair. "Okay, it's kind of funny."
His stomach was growling, so you slowly pulled yourself free of his arms so he could put on his oven mitts. "Looks good," he remarked, but your gaze was fixed on him. "What do you think, Honey?" 
Bob's eyes went wide as he set the tray down, like he couldn't believe what he'd said. Your heart was absolutely thundering in your chest. "Looks good," you whispered in agreement. You hadn't looked at it. You were sure it was fine. You'd eat anything anyway. But he called you Honey, and you didn't mind it one bit.
You shared the pizza side by side on his couch along with the rest of the bottle of wine, and Bob listened to you tell him about your friends you meet up with on Fridays. And then he told you about his deployment as he finished the last few drops of wine. 
"I never really talk about this with anyone but Nat. This is nice," he said softly.
"Is it lonely?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as he set down his glass and looked at you. 
You didn't want to rush him, because you could tell what he was going to say was important. And it was. His voice was a little rough as he looked at you and said, "Somehow it's lonelier when I come home. It's worse than being on an aircraft carrier in that I can't really have anything for myself here. There's nothing waiting for me. And a lot of the time, I feel like it would be too much to ask someone to do that. To wait for me. It would be a lot for someone to accept."
When you crawled onto his lap, he didn't stop you. And when you tilted his face up to make him look at you, his cheeks flushed pink, but his hands found your hips again. "I understand exactly how you feel." 
Then you kissed him, and you didn't stop for probably hours or maybe days. It felt that good. When you ended up beneath his warm body, you were so happy he came to your house on Sunday morning with your credit card. "Bob," you whimpered, and that seemed to bring him back from wherever his head was while he kissed his way down your neck and along your chest. His hair was a mess from your fingers, and his lips were a little puffy from the kisses, and you were pretty sure he wouldn't let you down again even if his friends were idiots.
You'd broken the spell, but he didn't seem to mind as he stood and pulled you to your feet. "It's getting late. We have work in the morning. Let me walk you to your car?"
At this rate, you were afraid you'd let him do anything he wanted, because he held your hand the whole way there. And he kissed you just right and told you he'd love to spend part of Saturday with you.
"Come over," you told him, and he promised he would.
----------------------------
It was chilly as Bob watched the sunset over the ocean from your back deck, but his body was warm from the combination of having you and your fleece blanket wrapped around him. You fit perfectly in his arms. Frankly, you seemed to fit pretty perfectly in his life. He wouldn't mind spending all of his Saturdays like this, listening to your gaming recap from the night before while you occasionally kissed the side of his neck. Your fingers were laced with his, and when you asked if he wanted to share a bottle of wine you got when you were in Napa Valley, he responded with a different question. 
"Is there any chance you'd want to be my girlfriend?" You shivered in his arms, so he wrapped you up a little tighter. "I can't stop thinking about you being the one waiting for me to get home from a deployment."
You didn't speak right away which made him apprehensive. He'd somehow been the one to push things too fast. This was something he'd never managed to do before. You tightened your grip on his hand as you said, "Bob... people are going to recognize me. It's going to happen sometimes, no matter what I try to do about it, and I-"
He cut you off with a kiss. "I don't care about that, Honey." Then more kisses. The bottle of wine in your kitchen was left forgotten as you carefully slipped one leg over Bob's lap and sat straddling him. You kept the blanket wrapped snug around both of you, your body nestled against his as your foreheads met. "I just really like you."
The sun had disappeared below the horizon. Everything was pink and purple and dusky and dreamy as your cheek nudged his glasses making him smile. "If you think you can handle being my boyfriend, then I'm not going to try to stop you."
Heart pounding, he asked, "So is that a yes?"
"Yes." Your kisses were slow and soft, and Bob kept chasing the smile on your lips, because he couldn't get enough. With his eyes closed, all he could hear was the ocean below and the soft sounds you made. All he could feel was your body everywhere. You smelled familiar. You tasted good. 
As you ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand trailed down to his shoulder, along his bicep and then across his chest. When Bob dared to let his hands dip from your waist to your hips and butt, you scooted a little bit closer. He realized when your fingers skimmed his abs that he had an erection. 
Embarrassed, he tried to break the kiss and move his hands, but as soon as he started to move, you pulled away first. In the dying light, he could see your wide eyes and the alluring rise and fall of your chest. Part of your lace bra strap was showing, and your nipples were obviously hard. His cock throbbed in his jeans as you asked, "Do you want to stop?"
He knew you could read the desire on his face. When he started to shake his head, you rubbed yourself against his jeans where he was hard for you. "No," he grunted, head tipping back as he panted. "I don't want to stop."
"Good," you whispered next to his ear, lips barely grazing him. "Neither do I." You took his hands in both of yours and brought them back up to your body, encouraging him to touch every curve.
He gasped your name as he watched you slowly rolling your hips against him, seemingly in no hurry as you bit your lip. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you didn't stop him, and he tossed it aside. Your body looked magical in the twilight, and as he reached for your bra clasp, realization hit him. 
You were used to a certain caliber of partner for these kinds of activities. Standards he probably couldn't meet. "You're hesitating again," you whispered, voice breaking a little bit on the last word. "If you don't think you want to do this with me, I completely understand, Bob."
It was getting difficult to read your expression in the darkness, but when you stopped touching him and pulled your arms to your sides, he started to panic. "It's not that," he promised. "But you've been with... p-professionals. Guys who know what they're... doing." He ran his hands through his own hair. "And I'm not the most experienced. I've only had two partners."
"Oh, Bob," you moaned, and his cock ached at the sound. He wanted you. His whole body was screaming for it, and then he watched as you unhooked your own bra and let it slide down your arms and fall from your fingers. Your body was flawless, back arched, every curve designed to make him crazy. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine as you leaned in closer and kissed him. "You'll be so much better."
Your bare skin was everywhere as the blanket slipped from around you. Bob's hands splayed across your back to keep you warm, but the supple feel of you had him thrusting against your core as he gingerly ran his thumb along the side of your breast. "So much better!" you whispered before pulling his bottom lip between yours.
He was still a little nervous, throbbing against you in his pants like a teenager as he cupped your breast in his rough palm. When you trailed your lips down his neck, he said, "I just want to be good enough for you."
Bob was thankful it was dark and you couldn't see him blushing as you nipped his earlobe and giggled. "Bob. You're better, because you're real. And you're turning me on, because we're not faking anything." You moved your right hand down between your bodies and squeezed his cock through his jeans as you sucked on his neck. "There's nothing fake about this."
He was gasping as he reached for your hand. "Honey." He couldn't take too much more teasing, or at this rate, he'd finish before his pants were off. "Can we go inside?"
You were off his lap and reaching for him with both hands, pulling him to his feet and closer to you. "My bedroom sound good?"
"Yes." 
It was honestly difficult to walk. You led him through the sliding glass door and inside where the soft lighting somehow made your topless body look even more stunning. You brought him down the short hallway to your room, walking backwards and looking up at him with a smirk as you unzipped his jeans. He made another unintelligible noise as he watched the way your breasts swayed and bounced with each movement. 
Your bedside lamp provided the only light, and Bob was still looking around, trying to get his bearings, when you pulled his shirt and undershirt off. "Oh," you gasped, running your palms up his flat stomach to his slightly broader chest. "God." He couldn't fathom that you liked what you saw and felt enough to leave you panting his name, but you definitely were. Then your hand was down the front of his unzipped jeans, and he grinned as you tried your best to wrap your hand around his length, your eyes growing wide. "Bob."
And now he wasn't really nervous, because this actually felt really easy and good with you. You were giving him all the queues that you wanted more. You were kissing him as you stumbled to the bed. You were trying your best to get your hand around his cock, but you couldn't. He picked you up and hauled you up to the pillows, and you squealed. All he could see was your beautiful smile as you kissed him over and over, only pulling away to run your nose along his cheek and whisper his name. 
He watched you shimmy out of your yoga pants and underwear and push them aside, and it was no wonder you were able to make a career out of using your body the way you did. But if most of that was just acting, then he wasn't going to let you down now. He watched as your head tipped back, and you pressed yourself up against his hands when he gently squeezed your breasts. Mesmerized by all of this, he let his hands drift down over your ribs and along your sides until he was met by your hips.
Bob worked his hands slowly back up your body and down again, pausing to press his lips to your breasts as you arched for him again. You felt soft, and you were sensitive, running your bare foot up and down his leg as you whimpered. When he squeezed your hips again, he let his gaze fall below your belly button.
His voice was soft and deep as he asked, "Is it okay if I taste you, Honey?"
You instantly spread your legs a little wider, grabbed him by his hair, and said, "Please."
---------------------------
Bob's hands were huge, with thick veins and graceful, calloused fingers. All he was doing was touching you and kissing you, and you were very fucking worked up. This was already a treat, just being with a guy who wasn't grabbing at you and trying to shove his cock in your mouth. But it was more than that. It was the soft tone he used when he said your name and the way he was looking at you. 
Gentle but strong. That was how you'd describe your newly minted boyfriend. You smiled at him as he stroked his fingers down your sides. You hadn't had a boyfriend in years, and Bob was so sweet and handsome, it was absolutely outrageous. 
"Is it okay if I taste you?"
All of that and he wanted to go down on you? "Please." Your voice was needy, and your body was so ready for him. You eased your thighs further apart so he could see all of you, and you let your fingers tangle in his soft hair. You were so excited, and when the wire rim of his glasses brushed the inside of your thigh, you shivered with pleasure. 
Then his lips met your pussy, and you almost went through the fucking ceiling. Those big hands were at your waist, holding you in place on the bed as he licked up along your slit, slowly tasting every inch before he hummed softly. You wanted to watch, but you could barely lift your head off of the pillow as he licked up again and again before kissing your clit. 
When you managed to prop yourself up on one elbow, you got a great view of his big cock hanging out of his unzipped jeans when he lifted his head away from your body. "Does it feel good?" he asked, and you laughed. He pulled away from you further, concern on his face as you started to reach for him.
Your nails scraped along the day's worth of stubble on his cheek as you sat up and kissed him, tasting yourself. You licked at his lips and chin, cleaning up the wetness before you whispered. "It feels better than good."
A few seconds later, you were on your back again, legs over his shoulders as he ate your pussy with fervor. All of your nerve endings were singing his praises. He had you spread with his rough thumbs, and when he looked up at you, even his nose was wet. Your hands were fisted at your sides while you gently rolled your hips against his mouth and whined at the perfect feel of him. "Shit. Fuck," you gasped. He sucked on you with just the right amount of pressure, and your toes were literally starting to curl. "Bob!" 
All you got in response was another hum of pleasure that made you squeal followed by some seriously lewd, wet sounds. His broad shoulders pushed against the backs of your thighs, and you felt him teasing at your opening with the tip of one finger. Tongue circling your clit, he glanced up at you over his crooked glasses. His cheeks were pink, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as you reached for his hair again. "I want you to fuck me."
"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head like he hadn't brought you close with his mouth. He looked a little dazed and pussy drunk, and you thought you could fall in love with that expression on his handsome face. 
"Come here," you whispered, kneeling so you could kiss him. "You taste like me," you added, licking his cheek and chin. "And I love it."
"Honey," he growled, and when you looked down, you could tell he was aching. You pushed him onto his butt and helped him the rest of the way out of his jeans and snug briefs, his thick cock bouncing for you. Then you looked at him there in just his socks and glasses, and your entire body clenched with a need you'd never known before. 
You took his cock in both hands, leaned down and kissed away all of his precum while every muscle in his abs and both legs tensed up. "Holy shit," he gasped. When you tugged on his shoulders, he moved with you, covering your body with his own. His weight and warmth against your bare skin felt essential to your happiness, and when you kissed him, he said, "And you taste like me." 
His cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you ran your tongue along his lips. You couldn't get enough. He shifted his body slightly, and his cock came to rest on your slick clit, making you moan into his mouth. You arched away from him, moving your hips back and forth a few inches at a time, using his body to bring yourself pleasure as you clung to his arms. "God, Bob. You haven't even been inside me yet, and I'm a mess." 
The veins in his neck and forehead were more prominent as he panted, a bead of his sweat rolling down to the tip of his nose. You licked it away as you shifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. He was thick, and even though you were soaking wet now, you had to use one hand to help guide him. You shook your head from side to side, your body taking him slowly. He buried his forehead to your neck, and the bite of his glasses against your collar bone kept you grounded. 
"Honey," he moaned, clutching at your hips as he finally, finally bottomed out. You were completely full, already clenching around him softly and enjoying the rough feel of his trimmed hairs against your clit. He thrusted a few times like he couldn't help himself, and you kissed his forehead. "Am I hurting you?"
His neck was a little slick against your fingertips. You'd been fucked too rough or without enough lubrication to the point of it being painful several times before, but this was the exact opposite. "Bob, you feel incredible." He lifted his head and kissed your lips, rewarding you with another thrust. Your legs tangled with his as you pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him harder. 
His lips found their way to your neck and breasts, and his thrusts started coming quicker, but every smooth movement left you gripping at him, your body begging for more as you whimpered and whined. He murmured your name against your skin, sucking on your nipples until you were seeing stars. And each thrust filled you somehow better than the last. And every movement left you grinding your clit up for more. 
You were going to come. You were going to come so hard. You could feel it. The buildup was delicious. Lips and stubble and glasses on your breasts. Hands on your hips. Bob everywhere.
"I'm not wearing a condom. Honey," he panted. "I'm not wearing a condom."
"It's okay," you whined loudly, suddenly gasping and clawing at his shoulders for leverage. "You can come wherever you want."
He chose inside you. And you came, hard and long and loud, hands on his face while you kissed him. You knew he was going to be so much better. You called it from the start. From when he surprised you by asking you out for coffee. He was immediately better than anything else you anticipated for yourself, and even when he fumbled, he recovered. You ran your lips along his cheek and back to his ear and whispered, "You're so much better than faking it."
He rolled both of you onto your sides, facing each other while he was still deep inside you. "Please don't ever do that. Fake it," he said, voice deep and raspy as he ran his rough palm along your cheek. "I want to know I'm good enough for my girlfriend." 
You smiled and tucked your head under his chin, and he wrapped his arm around you. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and his words were soft and gentle. When he climbed out of bed, he asked where he could find a washcloth, and he came back with it a minute later, ready to help you get cleaned up. He even held your robe out for you and waited while you used the bathroom, but you did that quickly, finding you wanted to be right next to him as much as possible.
Bob looked delicious in his briefs and undershirt, and you wrapped your arms around his waist as you asked, "Do you want to go back out under the blanket? With the bottle of wine? We could look at the stars. Listen to the ocean before bed."
He kissed your forehead. "As long as I'm with you."
-------------------------
Six months later...
After eight weeks away, Bob was excited to get home. He really hoped this was the start of his deployments feeling lonelier than the time between them did. Especially since he was going home to you and the house where he moved all of his stuff as soon as you asked him to live with you. He couldn't wait to hold you all night and hear all about your Dungeons & Dragons campaign and ask how you'd been enjoying work.
As soon as the aircraft carrier started docking in San Diego, he was at one of the lower railings along with the other aviators, and he spotted you immediately. You were bouncing around at the front of the crowd shouting his name and waving like a lunatic, and he had missed you so much. "Hey, Honey!" he shouted, and you just jumped higher. 
"Damn, Floyd. That's your girl?" asked one of the guys he'd flown with.
"Yeah," he replied, never taking his eyes off you. "That's my girl."
Six and a half minutes later, he was practically running down the long ramp with his duffle on one shoulder to the spot where you were waiting for him. 
"Bob!" you screeched as he scooped you up in your tiny dress and kissed you until you were as breathless as he was. "I missed you. I love you so much, and I missed you."
"I want to go home, Honey," he said, kissing you again. "Take me home."
"Gladly," you gushed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his own truck. "I have big plans for your big cock," you announced to everyone around you, and Bob felt his cheeks warm up. "Well, and the rest of you, too. We can make a pizza together and eat out on the deck."
"Anything you want," he promised, tossing his bag in the truck bed and pushing you against the door. "And I love you, too." 
You only let him kiss you for a few seconds, before you were pushing him away. "I know you do. Let's go home." You held his hand on the short ride, and when he pulled in the driveway, you yanked him right out and led him inside the house. 
This felt incredible, knowing you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, running hand in hand to the bedroom. Then you stopped short and turned to face him as he bumped into you with a laugh. "You know how you're kind of your alter ego right now when you're in your uniform? Lieutenant Floyd?"
"Yeah?" he whispered, leaning down to kiss you, but your lips curled into a smile as you backed away.
"Well... I thought you might like to meet my alter ego?" you asked softly, easing that little dress up to your hips and along your torso before pulling it over your head. You were standing there in the tiniest black thong and bra set known to mankind. "Do you want to meet Roxy Luxxe?"
Bob just nodded and reached down to palm himself through his khaki pants as he gaped at you and grunted, "Uh huh." If Roxy was just a playful extension of his girlfriend, then yes, he wanted to meet her. 
You bit your lip and coaxed him toward the bed, running your hands down your body to your hips where you played with your underwear. "Good. Because she wants to meet you, too. And she wants you to know she's only going to be available exclusively for Bob Floyd's enjoyment."
---------------------------
Thanks for reading this long one-shot! I wanted Bob to get to fuck a former pornstar, because nobody deserves such a treat the way Bob does! But then I got attached to them and had to make it special. Bob and the artist formerly known as Roxy Luxxe are adorable together. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for your help!
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slut4lrh · 2 months
Text
lover ; LN4
pairing(s) ; lando norris x swiftie!reader
summary ; in which y/n just wants to post pictures of her boyfriend, not expecting people to get the wrong idea
warnings ; smau, lots of fluff
note ; its 3am and i didn’t want to sleep til i finished this so idk what mistakes there probably is lmao😭 also just pretend the twitter stuff says 2024 i cba changing it all
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instagram ; yourusername
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liked by nando4lorris, carlossainz55 and others
yourusername i saw the dimples first and then i heard the accent 💓☺️
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user1 who are you
carlossainz55 you tagged the wrong account silly
yourusername you replied with the wrong account moron
nando4lorris you two aren’t slick
yourusename yeah ok mr nando lorris
nando4lorris you’re supposed to be on my side wtf
user2 i’m so lost 😭😭
user3 i’m confused someone explain
user4 babe everyone’s confused
user5 wait so is this carlos’ gf or not
user6 idk who you are but you’re hot as fuck
user7 ok i swear i’ve seen carlos wear that top in the 4th pic before
user8 yeah i think i’ve seen lando wearing it too tho
user9 but lando isn’t in this girls likes and comments
nando4lorris yeah guys you’re right she’s gotta be carlos’ girlfriend
yourusername nando4lorris fuck off i hate you so much 😭😭😭😭😭
user10 ????????
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instagram ; yourusername
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liked by landonorris, nando4lorris and others
yourusername i’d like to hang out with you for my whole life 🤗🧡
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user1 crying because lando liked on his main AND his burner (confirmed)
yourusername p.s. the tag in these pics is for PHOTO CREDS 😁
user2 LMFAOOO HER COMMENT
user3 girl said my mans is NOT carlos sainz jr🙅‍♀️
user4 i have so much to say
user5 the taylor love lyrics, the orange heart emoji, the flowers, the ladybugs, THE CAT CARDIGAN
user6 i think i would die for her
nando4lorris 🧡🧡
yourusername 🥰
carlossainz55 i thought you guys were still trying to be sneaky
yourusername carlos you’re the one making it hard to be sneaky
user7 oh it’s so lando
carlossainz55 oh well it’s been 4 years everyone already knew
user8 ITS BEEN WHAT JEHFKSKKS ????????
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instagram ; landonorris
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and others
landonorris i’ve loved you (five) summers now honey but i want them all 😁😁
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user1 oh my god
user2 FIVEEEEE SUMMERS????? EVEN MORE THAN CARLOS SAID !/?;&2!@:9(
carlossainz55 i’m sorry i just guessed how many years because i didn’t know exactly just that its been a long long time
yourusername it’s ok carlos you were close
user3 SHES BEEN TO RACES AND NO ONES EVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT HER OH MY GOD
maxverstappen1 finally mate
oscarpiastri wooo secrets out 🥳
user4 he used a taylor lyric for the caption im gonna be sick
user5 if you zoom in on the second pic you can actually see me drowning myself in the background
ciscanorris1 💓💓
yourusername love you🥰
user6 wait i don’t have twitter can someone explain
user7 oh BABE you’ve got some catching up to do
yourusername my fav boy love you to saturn ☺️🧡
landonorris i love you more than you love taylor swift🥰
yourusername ok settle down babe don’t go too far
landonorris no sorry you’re right
user8 when he understands that ones love for taylor is never beaten >>>>>
user9 i need them biblically
user10 i still don’t understand how they hid her for 5 years lmfaoooo
user11 yourusername ok y/n but did he take you to the eras tour
yourusername he got us tickets for a uk show later this year 🥰🥰
user12 now, how’d that curly haired vroom vroom bitch pull HER
liked by landonorris!
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Note
First off, not to kiss ass, but I really love your writing! I follow three people, one of which is my best friend, and you’re one of them. I always come back to your account for content! Anyways, I just wanted to voice my appreciation real quick. lmao
Aside from all that yapping, if you’re alright with it, I’d love to read some Alastor x reader headcanons, specifically about Alastor’s shadows, and how they act (and if they’re a little naughty sometimes with the reader 😏💀) before Alastor and reader start dating. Maybe they try to encourage him to ask her out? Idk, I just have random ideas floating around in my head. I completely understand if you’re uncomfortable with the idea or just too busy with others, but I just wanted to request since I saw your post about it!
Anyways, ily! ❤️
A/N: i appreciate you so much omg 🫶, thank you sm im so glad you like my writing it honestly means so much. I feel like Alastor’s shadows are so under appreciated but they’re also probably the biggest Alastor haters out here, like they probably piss him off a lot of the time when he isn’t doing business. As for the reader, they definitely steal Alastor’s girl 😏. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this!!
Warnings: shadow magic, AFAB reader, use of she/her pronouns, mentions of death, Alastor being Alastor, his shadows love you <3
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!
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Alastor’s shadows are almost always out to get him
Maybe it’s revenge, who knows, but Alastor hates it
When he first met you his shadows were over the moon about it
They always know what he’s feeling, even before he’s ready to admit them
So after you two first met they started to approach you more
You didn’t notice them at first, going on about your tasks in the hotel
Until you were cleaning a mirror and saw them behind you dancing
You just laughed and shooed them away lightheartedly, but it didn’t work
They tended to bounce between following Alastor and following you around
You had been taking a bath when one of them showed up, peering above the side of the tub
“Go away you, I need some sort of privacy” You said laughing, a bit of water spilling over the tub and within seconds the shadow was gone
Now we all know his shadows tell him any and everything
But they’re just as involved in the gossip as Angel
They’ll go to him and tell him things about you, who you were with, what you were doing, even down to the scent of your perfume
“Hello dear!”
“ Hello Alastor. Anything I can help with?” You asked. He grinned, his smile stretching ear to ear
“ Well I was just curious if you happen to know where the princess could be?”
He asks, his eyes flicking to the wall behind you for a minute.
The shadows dancing in with your own, making cringy gestures to Alastor, teasing him.
“ Oh actually I think she left to an interview with Vaggie earlier today. But that was the last I’d seen her.” You reply, but you don’t notice them behind you. His smile strains, pulling you close and walking down the hall.
“ Well my dear since we are under unsupervised vision why don’t we go out for lunch! My treat of course.”
He’s casual, as if he didn’t just steal you away from his shadows who still wanted to mingle in your presence more.
Whenever he talks to you they’ll just get really excited and cheer a lot behind you, pointing to you and making little kissy faces
he hates it
When you two start dating they only get worse in their antics
They constantly follow you around, acting as if they’re your shadows
Sometimes they take things from you to mess with you but it’s all in friendly spirit
You were doing your hair once and got distracted because one hand insisted on dancing with you
Alastor can never really have you to himself thanks to them, which he absolutely hates
“ Do you mind?”
He’ll ask, the static in his voice only louder as he clutches you to his side. The shadows stand and cross their arms, giving him the sass right back
“ They’re just having fun.” You say, and he lets it slide only because it doesn’t entirely bother you
Now they have joined in whenever Alastor and you try to get alone time
This is also the only time they aren’t against Alastor but more against you
If you ever thought of backing up into a wall to get away from Alastor think again because he’s right behind you sweetheart ;)
If you ever do flirt with them they’ll get really excited and run to Alastor about it, excitedly whispering what you’ve done
If you ever need Alastor and he isn’t near, you’ll usually have his shadows bring him to you
The perks of being with Alastor is he can never really run as long as his shadows are wrapped around your finger ;)
It was late and the hotel was quiet. Sitting in a warm bath Y/n ran the soap over her arms and down her torso, unwinding from the busy day. Until she saw shadowy eyes staring at her from above the rim of the bathtub.
“ Oh hello.” She said smiling, pausing in her actions. The shadow did nothing, sitting still and watching her shyly. “Do you happen to know where Alastor is?” She asked, leaning over a bit so the water flowed off her body easily, her torso now visible.
The shadows eyes went wide, nodding furiously. “Hmm, how about you,” she said, now eye level with the shadow, getting closer. “ bring him to me.”
The shadow had never disappeared quicker, and in its place was a confused Alastor, now kneeling in front of the tub, noticeably lost.
“Oh, Hello my dear! Something the matter?”
He asked, before she grinned, her hand reaching forward to pull him to her by the tie.
“ You’ll find out.”
Bonus:
“Dear they are actively trying to take you from me.” Alastor says, his smile strained and eyes twitching.
“Don’t be so mean, they just need some love too that’s all. Isn’t that right?” You coo, the shadows huddling around you more in a group hug. You giggle as some tickle your sides.
“This is criminal.”
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fadedin2u · 4 months
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hey batter, batter
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MDNI 18+
synopsis: ellie and abby have been rivals for years, playing for their university’s softball team. one day you, their coach’s daughter, show up at their game and ruin everything.
content: ellabs x reader, reader isn’t specified to be fem or masc, reader is described as a “girl”, afab!reader, sub!reader, dom!abby, switch!ellie, cunnilingus(e! and r! receiving), fingering(everyone receiving), strap-on(r!receiving)
word count: 3.7k
notes: based on this, thank u to @andisalias for giving me the idea to do softball, i think it worked really well! disclaimer: i know NOTHING about sports and just did a lot of research for this fic, so if anything is inaccurate about softball, i’m so sorry lmao
ellie sits on a bench in the dugout, picking at her dirty fingernails as she watches abby go up to bat.
“i hate the fucking batting order, i swear to god that jared has a vendetta against me,” ellie tells dina, who’s up to bat after ellie.
jared, the coach for their university’s softball team, is standing off to the side of the field, watching each move anyone makes on the field like a hawk.
dina snorts, nodding towards abby; “i think he has a vendetta against you fucking with his star first baseman before she goes up to bat.”
ellie scoffs, “that bitch deserves it.”
dina laughs a little, “right.”
ellie shoots a glare towards dina and goes back to burning holes into the muscular blonde’s back with her intense staring as abby holds the bat up, ready to swing.
if ellie was honest with herself, she did find abby just a little bit attractive, but any attraction ellie felt was monumentally overpowered by her intense hatred and jealousy for the blonde. abby was an upperclassman and naturally excelled in softball, always managing to make ellie feel small just by walking past her, which ellie despised. luckily, she knew that abby was just as bothered by ellie in return.
the pitcher throws the softball and abby strikes out on all 3 throws. ellie’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised.
“oh shit.” dina remarks, “i can’t remember the last time i saw ellie strike out.”
ellie rolls her eyes, “she’s not that great, dude. she fucks up all the time.”
dina doesn’t reply, not wanting to amp up her teammate.
abby comes back to the dugout, simmering with embarrassment and rage. ellie stands up and bumps abby’s shoulder with her own as ellie goes to bat.
“nice going,” ellie sneers, her voice barely audible, but abby picks it up, her fists clenching at her sides as she takes a seat on the bench.
abby turns to look at the girl who distracted her in the stands, and it’s you, chewing a fat wad of Big League Chew. her cheeks grow warm at the thought of fucking up so badly in front of you.
‘knock it off, abs, you don’t even know her,’ abby’s brain supplies, and she tries to listen, turning back to watch ellie bat.
as ellie goes up to the plate, getting into position, she looks through the netting behind her to look at the crowd, looking to see if joel ended up making it to this game after work. she almost immediately finds joel, sitting at the front of the bleachers with a bag of sunflower seeds. ellie’s about to give him at least a nod, but is quickly distracted when she sees you sitting next to joel.
‘what the fuck? who the fuck is that?’ ellie thinks to herself, her cheeks reddening as she gets into position to bat.
she turns away for a second to catch another glimpse of you, but as she does, she feels the softball sail past her into the catcher’s mitt.
“strike one!”
ellie’s wholes face feels hot and she kicks herself internally for getting so distarcted that she didn’t even swing in front of one of the most attractive people she’s ever seen. she shakes out her head a little, and she hears joel clapping, offering some cheers of support for ellie, but it just makes her feel more humiliated.
ellie adjusts her position, avoiding eye contact with her coach as he silently fumes over his star players completely fucking up and out of their element.
when the pitcher pitches the ball again, ellie swings and misses. at this point, she can feel her rage physically in her stomach, burning. she wilts inside slightly as she thinks about you seeing her play the worst she’s played since high school.
on her last pitch, ellie swings too early and strikes out. ellie feels sick as she walks back to the dugout, tossing her bat on the ground with more force than she should use.
dina walks past ellie silently to go up to bat, knowing that saying anything to ellie about this right now would probably be a mistake.
ellie sits down on the bench, grinding her teeth as she makes a little hole in the dirt ground with her shoe.
abby leans over towards ellie, now smirking, “hmmm… karma’s a bitch, huh?”
ellie jaw thrusts forward, not replying or looking at abby in fear that she’ll lose all control and lunge at the bigger girl, which she knows their coach would probably kick ellie off the team for.
in the next inning, abby takes her position at first base as ellie takes center field. abby looks up at you, chewing her lip slightly as she does. she tries to push down the wild butterflies she has, cursing herself for how distracted she’s been getting by your mere presence and not wanting to fuck this up anymore.
abby looks back at her teammates, and catches ellie staring intently at the crowd. abby follows ellie’s line of sight back to you and she clenches her jaw.
as the game continues, abby and ellie both drag the team down significantly, the two most competitive and cutthroat girls now distracted and aloof, dropping balls and staring at you despite their efforts not to.
eventually, the game ends and the visiting team wins by a landslide. abby feels sick about being partly responsible for their first loss of the season. both girls walk with the team dejectedly as they file inside to the locker room, following their coach.
when they’re all in the locker room, jared lays in to them, specifically abby and ellie.
“abby. ellie. what the fuck was that? i’ve never seen either of you play like that. are you two fucking high?” jared reprimands angrily.
ellie’s face hardens, and she has to use every ounce of self control not to do something she’ll regret. abby, on the other hand, takes the criticism in, fully ashamed of how she played today.
“i’m sorry, coach… I was just off today, but it won’t happen again,” abby says, her head low.
ellie is so close to making fun of abby for kissing their coach’s ass, but before she does, you walk into the dressing room cautiously, sitting on a chair in the corner. ellie stares at you, confused, but her heart racing form just your presence.
jared shakes his head, “i just don’t get it, you’re both firecrackers normally, but today, it felt like you two weren’t even in the game.”
abby is stunned too, unable to come up with a response as she stares at you. you shift a little in your chair awkwardly as both women stare you down.
jared shakes his head again, “this better not happen ever again, got it? or else you’re off the team. you can’t pull this shit and off scott-free.”
abby and ellie both quickly snap their attention back to jared, knowing that both of their scholarships are from softball, and if they get kicked off, they’re fucked.
jared rubs his temples, “alright… i’m done for today. go home, and i’ll see you all at practice tomorrow.”
the team starts packing up their stuff, a few of them heading to the showers. ellie and abby watch as their coach approaches you.
jared gives you a hug, “hey, sorry that you had to hear that.”
you shake your head, clearly a little uncomfortable about watching jared reprimand the team. “it’s fine, dad, don’t worry.”
dad? ellie and abby’s jaws comically dropping at the same time.
as you and jared talk, ellie and abby tear themselves away to head to the showers, both of them irritated that the other is present.
‘jared’s fucking daughter??? there’s no way that dick made someone so beautiful,’ ellie sulks to herself, stripping her clothes.
both girls quickly shower and by the time they’re done and grabbing their bags, they’re the only two left in the locker room.
abby is determined not to say a word to ellie, but ellie has other plans.
“so, you have the hots for coach’s daughter then?” ellie asks as she stuffs her sweaty uniform into her bag, her hair wet and hanging in her face.
abby’s loose, wet hair dampens the back of her t-shirt as she glares at ellie, “please, don’t act like you weren’t drooling over her the whole game.”
ellie laughs a little, “well… yeah. i have eyes, dumbass.”
abby bristles, “so, you’re gonna ask her out or something?”
ellie shrugs, “and what if i did? afraid she might like me more, anderson?”
abby scoffs, “i’m more afraid of you harassing her.”
ellie glares at abby, taking a step towards her, “literally, fuck you.”
abby steps closer too, using her size advantage against ellie to try and intimidate her, “funny, it seems you ‘literally’ want to fuck her.”
“ummm…” they hear a small voice from the doorway of the locker room.
abby and ellie’s heads whip around and they see you standing there awkwardly.
“i, uh… my dad thinks he left his baseball cap in here and asked if i could find it before i head back to my dorm,” you over-explain, rambling a bit.
ellie’s eyes light up a little, ‘jackpot.’
“don’t worry, i’ll help you look around for it,” ellie immediately answers, going up to you, “i’m ellie, by the way.”
your cheeks are hot as you shake ellie’s hand, and abby realizes that ellie might be stealing her opportunity, and she walks up to you as well.
“hey, i’m abby.” she says, shaking your hand as well, her large hands engulfing yours, “and don’t stress, i know what his cap looks like, it must be around here somewhere.”
abby and ellie give each other murderous looks as they search the locker room for coach’s ball cap.
you look around as well, your brain racing as you contemplate what you overheard them saying before they saw you.
abby finds the ball cap on the counter and raises it up in victory, “found it!”
ellie takes a breath, trying not to get unnecessarily upset over something as trivial as this.
you grin, approaching abby, “oh thank god. i’m terrible at finding shit, i *really* appreciate you both helping me.”
“of course,” abby and ellie both respond at the same time, side eyeing each other slightly.
you stand in front of the two as an awkward silence settles over everyone.
you decide to be bold, for once in your life, and break the silence, “so, i, ummm… i overheard you two before walked in.”
abby’s eyes get big and ellie’s freckled face goes red.
“oh shit, i’m really so sorry,” abby says, running her hand through her loose hair anxiously as ellie stands there awkwardly, unsure of what to say.
you smile a little, “no, it’s okay. really.”
you step forward, closer to them, and the girl’s tense up.
“it is a shame that you can’t share me though,” you boldly suggest, surprised by your own confidence, but you knew that they wanted you. they certainly weren’t discreet during the game.
‘holy shit.’
abby’s jaw drops slightly and ellie pauses before slowly saying, “share?”
you take a step closer, looking back and forth between them, “yeah. share.”
abby turns to ellie, and in that moment, maybe for the first time, they’re on the same page.
“i wouldn’t mind sharing you,” abby responds, her voice soft and low.
ellie nods, taking a step closer to you, “i’m good with sharing too,” she quickly supplies.
a slow smile spreads over you face, your eyes sparkling as you press yourself against ellie.
“well then… feel like sharing me right now?”
abby laughs a little to herself at the lunacy of this situation, but she can’t say that she’s not already wet just from this conversation alone, so abby nods.
“fuck yeah i do,” ellie says enthusiastically before kissing you.
abby watches as ellie kisses you, and the fire in her stomach is a mix of lust and envy.
ellie’s hands are gripping your hips as she presses you more into her. you run your tongue over her bottom lip and she moans, letting you into her mouth.
you feel a warm pressure against your back and you realize that it’s abby.
“my turn, williams,” abby says, her hands gliding over your waist.
you break the kiss with ellie, and her pupils are dilated, her lips plump and wet with spit. “fuck.”
abby spins you around towards her and doesn’t waste any time before kissing you, her arms wrapping around you.
you feel ellie’s hands roaming as you and abby kiss, and feel ellie’s pelvis pressing against your ass. it takes you a moment for you to realize that she’s grinding herself against it, and the idea makes your underwear more soaked than it already was. abby nips at your bottom lip and you moan into her mouth.
ellie’s hands come down to palm and squeeze your ass.
“you’re fucking perfect,” ellie murmurs, still humping your ass like a bitch in heat.
you pull back from abby to take off your shirt, leaving you in your jeans and bra.
abby starts kissing your neck and chest as ellie unclasps your bra, helping you take it off. as soon as it’s off, ellie’s hands reach around you to squeeze your breasts.
“jesus christ…” ellie whispers, rolling your nipples between her thumb and index finger as you moan softly.
abby breath is coming heavier as she manhandles you to sit on one of the benches in the locker room. you don’t resist at all, completely ready for whatever comes next.
abby motions to ellie as she kneels between your legs, “come on, there’s one for each of us,” as she latches onto your nipple, sucking and squeezing one of your breasts.
ellie quickly goes beside abby, your legs spread as wide as they can with the two girls between them. ellie licks over your other nipple and blows on it, getting it hard.
“so fucking cute-“ ellie says before suckling your breast as well, her eyes closed as she moans in the back of her throat.
you look down, and your clit is pulsing against the seam of your jeans as you watch both girls latched onto your breast.
ellie pulls back, watching abby suck on your breast with flushed cheeks. abby notices that ellie is watching her and she pulls back to see what’s up. as soon as she does, ellie pulls her into a heated kiss.
you’re mesmerized as the two girls kiss each other aggressively, ellie’s hands coming up to tug on abby’s hair. abby moans as she gropes ellie’s small chest through her shirt. when they detach, ellie stands up, her eyes sparkling.
“i have an idea,” ellie says as she goes over to her backpack, rummaging around through it until she pulls out a satin, black bag. she opens it and pulls out a purple strap-on.
abby laughs a little, “williams, why the fuck do you casually have a strap in your backpack? do you bring that to every game or something?”
ellie’s face goes red, “fuck you. i like to be prepared, it’s not my fault you don’t have bitches. besides, are you complaining?”
abby snorts, “no, i guess i’m not.”
ellie takes off her shirt and pants, leaving her sports bra on as she puts on the strap. “anderson, lie down on the ground.”
too everyone’s surprise, abby follows ellie’s order.
“good girl.” ellie motions to you, “and you, take off your jeans and sit on her face, okay?”
you nod quickly, stripping completely naked before crawling onto abby. you look into your eyes, “you okay with this?”
abby nods eagerly, “very okay.”
you grin and situate yourself over her face, and you don’t have any warning before abby’s strong arms wrap around your thighs and pull you down so you’re fully sitting on her face.
you moan involuntarily as abby’s tongue laps over your wet cunt, completely vulgar noises coming from her mouth with a muffled, “you taste fucking incredible-“
ellie watches as abby pleasures you, and she rubs the base of the strap against her clit as she admires the two of you.
abby starts sucking on your clit and you moan loud, your eyes rolling back into your head. ellie approaches you two, watching abby eat you out.
ellie kneels down behind you, pressing her chest to your bare back, “wanna try and take me, baby?”
you nod eagerly, “please.”
ellie doesn’t need anyone confirmation before slipping two fingers into your pussy, curling them as abby suckles your clit. you moan loudly, your breaths heavy.
“so fuckin’ tight… you’re gonna feel fucking incredible on my cock, baby, i promise-“ ellie says as she takes out her fingers, sucking them clean, “fuck, abby wasn’t lying, you taste good.”
ellie positions her strap, rubbing the tip over your folds to tease you a little. you whimper, and that’s about all ellie can take before slipping the strap into you. you’re now on your hands and knees, with abby below you still at work on your clit, and ellie behind you as she starts thrusting into you.
“that pretty pussy is so fucking desperate for us, huh?” ellie says, her core tight as she grips your hips.
you moan at that, nodding, intense pleasure coursing through your body.
ellie laughs a little, thrusting harder, “do you have any fucking idea what you did to us out there, pretty girl? fucking distracting us- so fucking sexy-“ ellie pants, her eyes rolling back as she gets the friction she needs on her clit.
your orgasm is rapidly approaching, your body overwhelmed with stimulation. “i-i’m gonna-“
you nearly scream as you climax, your legs shaking with pleasure as you writhe around. ellie watches with a big grin on her face, fucking you as hard and as fast as she can through it.
when you come down, abby lifts you off her face with ease, “my turn.”
ellie takes off the strap and passes it to ellie, “oh, think you can fuck her better?”
abby huffs a laugh, “i know i can, williams.”
abby puts on the strap and strips off her clothes, keeping you in doggy as ellie come’s around in front of your face. ellie takes off her sports bra and boxers, sitting in front of your and spreading her legs, exposing strings of her arousal between her thighs, her auburn bush soaked in pre-cum.
you waste no time before diving in, your tongue lapping up her juices. ellie grunts and her hands fly to your head, keeping you in place, “jesus fucking christ-“
abby takes this moment to lick your cunt up from behind, tasting your cum from your previous orgasm before lining the strap up with your entrance and thrusting in deep without warning.
you moan into ellie’s pussy, and thrust your tongue down her entrance before replacing it with two fingers. ellie moans again, her eyes squeezing shut.
ellie fucked you relentlessly and hard, making you see stars, but abby fucks you like she’s trying to savor every moment, her eyes locked on your pussy as it stretches around the strap.
“you were made to take this dick, oh my god,” abby moans, thrusting deep and slow.
ellie starts whimpering as you suck on her clit, thrusting your fingers hard into her.
abby laughs a little at ellie’s reaction, never having seen ellie so docile.
“awww, you just needed to get your shitty attitude fucked out of you, huh, williams?”
ellie can barely respond, her head tilted back as you pleasure her, her stomach muscles trembling.
abby starts fucking you a little faster, wrapping an arm around you to play with your clit.
“can you give me one, princess? i don’t wanna be left out…” abby says, her chest pressed against your back as she fucks you.
every time you moan against ellie’s clit, still sucking it, and it sends delicious vibrations through it, amplifying ellie’s pleasure and making her tip over the edge, crying out as she climaxes.
you work ellie through her climax, despite your 2nd impending climax building in your lower belly.
as soon as she’s done, ellie stands up and moves behind abby, running her hands all over abby’s body.
abby moans as ellie plays with her nipple, her other hand coming down to squeeze abby’s ass before slipping a finger into abby’s cunt as abby fucks you.
abby moans unexpectedly, “fucking christ- more, elllie-“
ellie grins and slips in another finger, pumping her fingers in time with abby’s thrusts, curling them up each time ellie’s fingers bottom out.
abby’s pants come quicker, rubbing your clit faster. just as you’re sent into your next orgasm, abby cries out, fucking herself into you as she cums on ellie’s fingers.
when you both come down, abby slowly slips out of you, sitting on the cold locker room floor and leaning against ellie as abby pulls you into her lap.
“feeling okay?” abby asks as ellie brushes your hair out of your sweaty face.
you laugh weakly, still panting, “much better than okay.”
both girls giggle a little at that, and ellie asks with a cocky smirk, “so… who fucked you better?”
abby elbows ellie and ellie rolls her eyes, rubbing her arm.
you smirk a little and say, “hmmm… it was hard to tell. maybe we’ll have to do this again sometime to repeat the study, y’know?”
abby grins as ellie laughs, squeezing your thigh.
“well, in that case, we have to. in the name of accurate results. science, even.” ellie says as she settles in to abby’s side.
abby laughs this time, one arm wrapping around ellie’s bare shoulders, “damn, i guess we do.”
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whorekneecentral · 5 months
Text
Your Pick
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Fernando Alonso x Fem!Reader
Warnings: pr!reader, a bit of an age gap (reader is mid twenties) randomness from nando's end, unspoken feelings until now, thigh riding, penetrative sex (p in v), a bit of teasing, praise kink go burrrr, creampie.
Word Count: 2,358
Author's Note: I literally only picked the middle pic for @oconso, it was for her. you’re welcome.
merry smutmas series
--
Fernando enlists the help of a certain someone to get his Christmas shopping done but the list is oddly familiar.
A charity event that Fernando attended every year, some sort of mission for children and their dream of being a driver. Fernando gave them an afternoon of his time, indulging them in all of their questions and stories, sharing some of his own as well.
You were, of course, right there with him. You weren't needed for this event exactly but as his press officer, you followed him. Sebastian often joked when he saw you that you were to Fernando what Britta is to him; except for the fact that you are much younger and hadn't been with Fernando for as long.
The idea was the same, you did everything for him. From making sure he gets there on time to meeting fans and signing everything he can.
At some point during the long event, Fernando asks you if you can do him a favour, handing you a piece of paper.
"I need to pick up some stuff, you can take my car. Oh and my card." He tells you, fishing the keys and his card out of his pocket to hand it over to you.
The keys to his Aston in your hand, along with the card and a list with some words scribbled along the lines, both in English and Spanish. You'd just have to figure it out along the way.
"You don't need me to stay?" You asked, looking between the list and the man. Fernando shook his head, "I'm good here. You should be done by the time I'm done here, no?"
"Probably."
"Come back when you're done, I'll wait for you."
You nodded, telling him you'd text him when you're done before you head out. The car beeps when you press the unlock button, a slick, shiny grey DBX 707 sat in the parking lot. You smiled to yourself, getting into the car and shutting the door.
The list sat on your lap, you looked over the things on the list and the places you'd get to go.
First stop on the list was Chanel; a Chanel classic with the double flap in Tiffany blue. It was stunning, Fernando had dotted down that he wanted it in the medium size. You were surprised he even knew what that meant.
His card beeped on the machine, the woman smiles as she hands the bag over to you. You carry it as you walk down the street to Christian Louboutin.
Purses, clothes and shows lined the walls, you felt like you were underdressed but the massive Chanel bag you were carrying fit you right in with the other rich people in the store.
You asked the woman for the shoes that he had written down; so Kate 120 in black, size 8.
You waited for her to bring them back. "Would you like to try them on, miss?" The woman asks, the slick box in her hands. You shook your head, "that's alright, thank you."
"Is this all?" She smiles, and you nod. The woman leads you to the front, doubling checking the sizes of the shoes and packaging it up into the brown bag.
There's one more place on the list that you've got to stop; Dior.
It's a few minutes drive from where you were, you leave the other bags in the car and head into the store. Fernando has listed that he was looking for the Miss Dior perfume. You look around a bit, stopping at the back to look at the wall of fragrances they had set up. You look closely and carefully and still you don't see the one that Fernando had wanted.
You reach for your phone, texting the man.
To Fernando: Hey, they don't have the perfume you wanted.
From Fernando: Which one was that again?
To Fernando: Miss Dior.
From Fernando: Just pick another one.
To Fernando: Any one?
From Fernando: Yeah, you have good taste. I trust your judgement.
You reply with a thumbs up and decide to look for something that you liked. It was a bit odd that Fernando sent you out like this, he did it often but never like this. He was never one to have you shop for someone who was clearly a woman. She must be important to him if he's spending so much on her.
You ended up picking out Dior Addict in place of Miss Dior. This one had the same jasmine scent with more of a vanilla undertone. You pay and take the bag from the man at the counter with a smile.
Getting back into the car, you reach over and set the bag with the others. You texted Fernando to let him know that you were on your way back, to which he replied with a thumbs up emoji.
It was a 20 minutes drive back to where he was, and once you arrived, you waited in the car for him. You were scrolling through your phone when a tap on the window startled you.
Looking over, you see Fernando. You wind down the window, "uber for Fernando ?" He asks, a cheeky grin on his face.
You roll your eyes. "Haha," you say flatly. "Do you want to drive?" You look over at him and he shakes his head, walking around to get into the passenger seat. Fernando lifts your purse, setting it on his lap carefully.
"Where to then?" You look over at him, yet again. "Home?
"Yours," he says, looking through your purse.
"Stop that," you smack his arms, turning the key to start the engine. The car purrs in response, a sound only luxury cars have.
"Do you have gum?" He asks, still looking.
"Front pocket," you inform him, heading towards your place. It didn't strike you as odd to be heading to yours. Fernando often picked you up so you just assumed you'd get home and then he'd head out to his place.
What did strike you as odd was Fernando taking the bags out of the car and following you up the stairs to your front door. "What are you doing?" You turned, clearly confused.
"Go on, I need to come in."
"What if I don't want you to come in?" Your question made him laugh, the man shaking his head. "Just go," he tells you, knowing you're just being difficult.
You unlock the door and walk in, Fernando sets the bags in the living room and makes himself comfortable on the couch. He had been to your place before it wasn't like it was awkward or anything. You just weren't sure why he wanted to come in.
"Want some coffee?" You called from the kitchen, filling the kettle. "Tea would be nice," he calls back.
You shake your head, setting two mugs on the counter. "I didn't offer any tea."
"I'm suggesting it then." He leans over the back of the couch, smiling at you. You roll your eyes, dropping the teabag in the cup while you wait for the kettle to boil.
Finding your way over to the living room, you sit on the floor by the couch. Fernando sets the bags on the floor next to you and you assumed that he was making space for you on the couch but instead spoke; "show me what you got."
The statement left you a bit confused, he had given you a list, of course he knew what was on it but you indulged, taking the stuff out of the bags.
You have them set on the floor in front of you, Fernando watches as you show him each thing carefully, not wanting to scuff or damage them.
"Do you like them?" He asks and you nod, "I do. Just a bit confused though," you look up at the man.
"Why's that?"
"Well.. you've always been the type of guy who shops for their women themselves so it just struck me as odd that you asked me to shop and pick up.. this."
Fernando smiles, "well I was busy and she's an important person to me, perhaps the most important."
You raise an eyebrow, looking at the driver. "Ohhhh okay.. so you have a girlfriend? C'mon, tell me, tell meeeee!" You nudged his knee, propping your elbow up on the couch as you turned your attention to him.
He doesn't say anything, he just smiles at you. This time was different; it wasn't playfully or teasing, there was something sincere about the way he looked at you.
It takes you a moment but you finally speak, "what? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"The stuff is for you." He says and you look at him, clearly confused.
"You made me shop for my own Christmas gift? Fernando, that's.." It hits you at once, all the things he had listed were things you had mentioned to him that you liked over the last year or so.
Your hands covered your mouth, looking at him in shock. "Fernando, oh my god.. no." You shook your head, "this is too much."
"It's not," he rests his hand on yours, "you've been by my side for as long as I can remember, you do everything for me. You're the only person I trust and well.. love. You deserve this and so much more."
"It's a lot," you whisper and the man hushes you, letting you pull him into a hug. "Thank you." You whisper yet again, unsure how to repay him for his kindness; you knew you didn't have too, seeing that it was a Christmas gift but still.
Fernando's hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing over your skin softly. He smiles at you, wondering how he got so lucky. Not everyone gets to have someone they love in their life and he was lucky enough to find that in you.
You can't help it, it was like instinct. Shifting onto your knees when you reach up, your hand wrapping around his wrist to pull him closer, your lips on his.
A part of you thinks he's not gonna react and pretend it never happened and the other part of you expected him to push you away but he did neither.
Instead, he kissed you back.
He helps you up off the floor and onto his lap, having you settle on his lap. "Let me take care of you," he says, his hand cupping your face, finally pulling away from the kiss.
"Yeah," you lean into him once again. You stay in his lap, Fernando pushes the skirt you had on up a bit, shifting you onto his thigh.
His hands rest on your hips, rocking you on his thigh; back and forth very slowly. His head leaned back and he lifted his leg slightly. The sudden change caused you to slide forward, clit rubbing against the denim fabric under you.
The sound that left your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.
“So beautiful,” he coos, pushing your hair back off your shoulders. “So good for me.”
You nod, pushing down on his thigh a little harder. “Let me hear all those pretty sounds, you don’t have to be quiet, mi vida.”
Little by little, your top and bra ended up on the floor along with Fernando's shirt. Your hands ran over his shoulders, down his biceps to his forearms.
His fingers creeped up under the hem of your skirt, "I've been waiting to have you to myself."
"Why's that?" You shift a bit to look at him, an arm over his shoulders as you look at him.
“Because I’m gonna ruin all that pretty makeup," he whispers to you, pulling you for a kiss.
It only spiralled from there; hands all over each other, clothes being tugged and pulled on. You’re both impatient, wanting more than you can get too at the moment. 
Fernando scoots you back on his lap, undoing his pants as your skirt gets pushed up on your hips, panties pulled to the side before you sink down onto his cock.
He bucks his hips and your nails drop down from his shoulders to the scratches along his back. He lets out a groan, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
"Oh god," you mumble, thighs on either side of the man as you roll your hips, arms over his shoulders. One of your hands tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck, giving it a solid tug.
Fernando tilts his head back, a soft groan slipping from his lips when he feels your own lips meet his skin.
“Fuck, do that again.” He mumbles, feeling you clench around him. Soon enough he can feel your hands on his shoulders, letting you set your own pace, bouncing on his cock as your nails dug into the back of his shoulders; surely leaving behind red marks. 
His own hands digging into your hips hard enough to leave behind their own marks but that was the least of your concern right now. 
“Fernando,” you whimper, forehead pressed to his.
He feels you clench around him, your hips stuttering and he knows you’re close. His hand moving from your mouth to between the two of you, fingers rubbing circles over your clit and your head falls onto his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds slipping past your lips. 
He rests a hand behind your neck, pulling you back slightly.  “Look at me,” he tells you, kissing you softly. You both knew the other was equally as close, orgasm on the verge of happening. His hand shifted to grab your chin, pulling your focus back to him. “Look at me when you cum.” 
His words were enough to push you over the edge, Fernando following quickly after you. 
You fall flat against him and Fernando lets you sit on top of him for a bit, his hand rubbing around your back softly, fingers tracing random patterns into your skin.
"You okay?" He whispers and you nod, sitting up a bit to look at him. "What?" He asks, seeing the look on your face.
"How did you know my sizes? You know.. for the gifts."
He smiles, kissing your shoulder. "I pay attention, you know."
---
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optimist-pine · 2 months
Text
Bodyguard
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Warnings: people are naked, but it's barely even borderline suggestive
Summary: You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone
Era: Season 1, the Quarry
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Your skin practically crawls from the buildup of dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that's managed to accumulate over the past three days. You still haven't quite adjusted to the reality of not having on-demand access to a hot shower and your scalp is all oily, and itchy, and eugh - gross. A little shiver runs down your spine at the thought - well, maybe that's just more sweat...
The bold shades of the sunset are beginning to fade as you make your way to the Dixon brothers' camp. Currently they're the closest thing you have to neighbors, your tent being between theirs and the rest of the group. You're dying for a quick dip and rinse in the pond, but you don't actually want to die for a bath, and you know it's a dumb idea to go alone. Everyone else seems busy though and you've come to the conclusion that Daryl seems to be your only option.
Most of the others actively avoid the brothers, and you can't say you blame them. Merle's constantly stirring up trouble and being a general annoyance, and Daryl's quick to jump to his defense. But, on the rare occasion when Daryl isn't being held under Merle's thumb, you catch glimpses of a very different person than what he usually puts out.
He's sitting in an old lawn chair by the side of a fire when you approach, poking a stick around in the coals. Little sparks shoot off where the fresh evening air hits them, and the smell of woodsmoke fills your lungs.
"Hey." You greet. A spot of doubt begins to arise within you, but you quickly stamp it out. With recent events you were beginning to discover that there wasn't much room left for second guessing or overthinking anymore.
"Need somethin'?" He asks, eyes flicking up to you for a moment before returning to the flames.
You hang your thumbs in your belt loops, fingers tapping against your hips. "If you're not busy, I was hoping maybe you could go down to the water with me? I'd ask someone else but they all seem rather occupied at the moment... and I don't think Shane'd let me go alone." You say.
He looks up, jaw set awfully close to a scowl. "I ain't gonna be yer damn bodyguard." He huffs.
"No- I don't want you to watch me or anything like that- I guess I'm just asking for companionship?" You reply. "You could do whatever you're gonna do here, but just do it down there?" You hike your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the pond.
He stays silent, but a sudden chorus of laughter flows out from the direction of the rest of the group. You study the way the firelight smooths out his rough edges, and you can't help but wonder if the look in his eyes is just boredom or if it's really loneliness.
"Unless you prefer Merle's company, then by all means I'll leave ya to it." You continue, trying your best to ignore Merle sawing logs in the tent, and erase the image of his hand too close to his crotch from your mind.
He jams the stick into the dirt hard enough that it remains standing when he lets go. "A'ight. Lemme get 'mah stuff."
"Awesome, I'll be over at my tent when you're ready." You smile, pleased and a little surprised that you'd managed to get him to say yes. Admittedly, Merle wasn't so bad when he was passed out, but it was reassuring to know that you were at least preferred company over an unconscious jerk.
---
Dirt and gravel crunch under your boots as the two of you walk, your knapsack bouncing steadily against your back with each step. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm not necessarily afraid of the dark or anything, but there's a lot worse things in the woods now than just coyotes." You explain. "And it's just nice not to be alone."
He simply grunts in response.
Good thing you didn't ask him along for his conversational skills.
When you reach the edge of the water you find a rock close to the shore to set out clean clothes and a towel. You see Daryl settle down, back propped against a boulder as he starts rummaging around in his own bag. "Whatcha gonna work on?" You ask.
He pulls out a whetstone and a couple large hunting knives. "Cleanin' mah tools." He replies.
You begin to undress, but a feeling of uncertainty causes you to pause. "Man, I wish I didn't feel like he's sitting up there right now with those binoculars..."
"Who? Shane?" He asks sounding surprised.
"Yeah." You shudder. "Guy gives me the creeps."
You hear scrape of the knife grinding against the sharpener. "Well, hurry up an'ere won' be anythin' ta see." He says.
"Yeah..." You keep your eye on Daryl while you finish, but he doesn't lift his gaze even once beyond sharpening his knife. "I won't be long." You assure him as the cool water rises around you.
As soon as you're far enough in you dive forward, the rush of water instantly reviving and refreshing your whole body as it flows past. You rise upwards as giddiness fills you and you break the surface with a laugh. "This is heavenly!" You gasp. You continue diving and twirling, every sore muscle and painful bruise easing away.
You pause to catch your breath and a small splash has you immediately alert. You left your knife up on the shore with Daryl, but you hadn't heard any sounds of alarm from him so surely it's not a walker. But when you look to the shore the sight has you almost equally as shocked. Daryl is chest deep in the water - bare chested that is - ripples being sent out across the still expanse as he sinks further in.
"Hey!" You yell. "I asked you out here because I thought you weren't some sorta pervert!" You hope it's dark enough that nothing in the water is visible because he's only getting closer.
The moon is full and bright, and the way it reflects off the water makes him look almost ethereal. "Can't protect ya if I'm up'ere an' yer alla'way out 'ere." He reasons.
"I don't need protecting." You roll your eyes. "And all the weapons are up there, Dixon!" You send a splash of water directly into his face.
He returns the splash. "Looked like I was missin' out on alla fun." He shrugs. "'Sides, ya never know when somethin' might jus'-" he disappears under the surface of the water and barely a second later something wraps around your ankle, tugging you under the surface.
When you're released you bob back up to the top wanting to be stern, but you're too busy giggling and swallowing mouthfuls of water to do so. When he surfaces behind you, you turn and splash him again sputtering, "Daryl you- that's not- I can't-" and end up full on belly laughing while trying to stay afloat.
You think you catch the shadow of a smile on his lips before he turns and floats away, like he's done nothing worthy of retaliation. 'Oho boy is he gonna get it.' As quietly as possible you lower yourself in the water, and using shadows from the moonlight, you swim under his head. Reaching up with both hands you use all your strength to grab his shoulders and pull yourself above the surface while pushing him down as hard as you can. Then you make a break for it.
You hear him gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you swim as fast as you can in the opposite direction.
"Get back 'ere, woman!" He shouts, his tone highly amused. "Yer gonna hafta pay 'fer that!"
You don't realize how loudly you're laughing until the beam of a flashlight is suddenly shining directly in your face.
"Everything alright here?" Shane questions, standing on the shore not far from your and Daryl's discarded clothes. A few of the others are with him; Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Morales.
Even in the chilly water you can feel your skin begin to flush all the way down your neck. "Yes! All good!" You squeak out, squinting in the harsh brightness.
"We heard yelling." Andrea chimes in.
You're confident that in all your life you've never been more embarrassed. "That was laughing, guys. I wanted a bath and I asked Daryl to be my bodyguard. We were just, uh, blowing off some steam and I guess we got a little loud... Sorry if we worried anyone." You glance at Daryl who appears to be doing his best impression of the invisible man.
You can make out Dale's hat exceptionally well even in the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Their hesitation to leave sparks frustration within you - do they really think so lowly of Daryl? Is that what this is all about? Sure, nobody really knows him all that well, but you're all practically strangers and he's done alright by you. The desire to defend him takes over and you snap at the group, "Ah, what're y'all, the fun police? Go ruin somebody else's night and leave us be."
You don't take a good breath until they're all headed back to camp, and it's once again quiet and dark. You sigh, tilting your head back to watch the stars so high above as you float. "Dead people walking around eatin' living people - ya think they'd have bigger problems to deal with than a couple'a skinny dippers." You remark.
A quick exhale of a laugh, not quite a snort, echoes across the pond. "People're always jealous of'a good time if they ain't havin' one." He says quietly.
You pull your fingers through the water, feeling the tension push against them. "So... are ya feeling jealous, or did ya have a good time?" You ask.
"S'pose it wasn't too bad." He says. "But I ain't yer damn bodyguard."
And you grin.
---
Yeah, maybe it's a little awkward getting dried off, getting dressed, and walking back to camp but you sleep more soundly than you have since you arrived. And maybe you're a little annoyed with the way everyone seems to have nothing better to do than gossip, but that new gleam in Daryl's eye when he looks at you wipes it all from your mind. And maybe a lot of things suck, but at the end of the day there's someone who actually likes you, and maybe that's enough.
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irisintheafterglow · 6 months
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hi!!! could i request pro hero!bakugo & pro hero!reader where bkgs doing an interview and they ask about relationships and his answer is “I thought you people already knew that im married”
i have no idea how to word things but i hope that was readable🙏🙏
keeping it in the family
wc: 1.6k
cw/tags: swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol, established relationship, dialogue-driven
note: RAHHH I LOVE HUSBAND BAKUGO. anyways !!! i hope you like this, i did get a little carried away when writing it so hopefully it makes sense. thank you for your ask!!!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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“And we’re on in five, four, three, two…give ‘em hell.” The roar of excited applause jumbles together with the late-night show’s opening theme and the screams of excited fans can still be heard even as Kirishima flashes a blinding smile to the camera. 
“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to Heroes on Heroes! We’re so glad you’re joining us tonight, seeing as this is the finale of season one!” The audience cheers with fiery passion and it makes the three heroes onstage chuckle nervously. This was going to be a long night, especially if the superfans were crying after every word they spoke. “I’m Red Riot,” he pauses while the cheering erupts once again, “and I’m joined by my fellow pros, Chargebolt and Dynamight.” You wince from your place at sidestage from the sheer wave of noise that slams into your eardrums when the latter is introduced. 
“Thanks for having us tonight, man,” Denki grins. He eagerly drums the armrests of his chair, to the left of Kirishima. “I’ve been looking forward to doing one of these since I saw Deku’s a few weeks back.” 
“It’s a great concept, really. I love being able to just chat with you guys and shoot the shit about hero stuff. It’s so manly.” Kirishima turns expectantly to the other hero sitting to his right, whose hot-headed nature was blatantly obvious by how he was slumped in his chair, squinting slightly at the burning spotlights and clicking cameras. You admire Kirishima’s confidence in forcing Katsuki to say something. “What about you, Bakugo? How’re you feeling tonight?” 
“I’m alright,” he shrugs indifferently. Your breath catches in your throat and you can hear the Dynamight agency’s publicist put his head in his hands. “It’s been a while, so it’s good to see you guys,” he adds with unexpected fondness and you exhale in relief. His eyes meet yours for half a second and he shoots you a wink that makes your knees wobbly. “I saw that save at the bridge collapse last week, Shitty Hair. Pretty decent work.” Kirishima blinks once, twice, and then glances at Denki. Katuski’s blank look narrows into a scowl. “The hell are you looking like that for? I got shit in my teeth or something?”
“No, no. Sorry, man,” Kirishima laughs. “I just wasn’t expecting a compliment from you so early in the show.”
“Yeah, we thought we’d have to booze you up a little more to get you to be nicer,” Denki jokes and he recoils a bit when he’s struck with a molten hot glare from the hero across from him. 
“Whatever you’re about to say, bro, don’t say it,” Kirishima warns and the crackles in Katsuki’s palms gradually dissipate. “But, I’m wondering too. What’s with the good mood?” 
“I guess I feel like playing nice tonight,” he answers cryptically, his gaze flicking over to you again with amusement. You can almost sense the fainting girls falling over each other in the front row. Kirishima’s attention subtly darts over to you and a knowing smirk grows over his face. It was the first time you and Katsuki were at the same press event, since you both thought it was too dangerous to sneak around until now. “But, talk about that bridge save. I don’t think a lot of people know that the guy was wanted by several agencies.”
“Ooh, yeah,” Denki agrees with a quick sip of his drink. He swallows and sets the glass down with a light thud. “He’d been giving us hell for weeks. It's not really the best matchup for a sand villain to be going up against an electric hero.”
“It was the sand villain and his wife, wasn’t it? That chick with the melting Quirk?”
“Yep, they were a nasty couple to deal with,” Kirishima confirms. “I had to keep track of this guy’s damn sand spikes and his wife turning the floor to goop at the same time.”
“Goop is a weird-ass way to put it,” Katsuki points out with obvious distaste. 
“Yeah, but he was a pretty goopy guy.” Chuckles ripple through the audience and you can’t help breaking a smile too at Kirishima’s joke. 
“I think for me, at least,” Denki adds, “the biggest pain was the fact that they were married, and they had, like, marriage telepathy or something.”
“Bro, I thought that was just me! Here I was, thinking that I’d incapacitated one and split them from the other, when bam! Both of them appear in front of me like a damn genie.” 
“You ever have to deal with villain couples, Bakubro?”
“Nah, not recently. We’ve been doing a lot of big raids on all the crime families downtown.” He flexes his right bicep and pulls back the sleeve of his shirt to show a gnarly purple spot growing on his skin. “Got this little beauty three days ago from a neo-Hassaikai asshole.” You're not fazed by the ugly shade of the wound because you were the one who stitched up the...less visible results of the raid.
“Jeez, man,” Denki says in disbelieving awe at his friend’s injury. “If you ever need backup, we’d love to do a team up with you.” 
“I think I’d rather die–”
“My agency would also love to team-up with you,” Kirishima interjects before Katsuki can finish his thought. The heart rate monitor of his publicist begins to rapidly beep behind you. “We can have a threeway team-up! That’d be pretty cool, don’t you guys think?” 
“What if we all just merged into one big super agency? Like a big family?”
“That sounds like the stupidest shit–” Again, Kirishima cuts off Katsuki’s brash protests and saves them from being taken off the air.
"That would be so awesome."
“Would that mean we’d have to get pro-hero partners, too? Keep hero work in the family?”
“I think Salonpas would have heart palpitations if we said we were trying to keep hero work within the family,” Katsuki points out and his friends nod in agreement. “On another fuckin’ note, that Half-and-Half idiot keeps hogging the number two spot and it pisses me off.” Though you didn’t often encounter Todoroki while you were on patrol, you knew that he was adamant about keeping work life and family life separate. It made him even more of a dedicated hero and a recent bust of a notorious crime ring bumped him into the number two spot over Dynamight for that month. You didn’t hear the end of it from Katsuki. 
“He and Deku just work really efficiently, Bakubro.”
“I can efficiently slam both their skulls into a–”
“You know what would solve that problem?” Denki butts in unceremoniously, covering up his harsh words for a third time. Katsuki grunts in response and the lightning-decorated hero gives him enthusiastic finger-guns. “Combining and making a family agency.”
“What are the chances that Sero would want to join too?”
“Probably pretty high,” Kirishima guesses. “He’s at my place every other week, anyway, so he’s basically my brother.”
“Alright, maybe this could actually work, then. I just need to find a smoking hot hero wife.”
“That’ll probably be the hardest part, buddy–”
“What about Bakugo?” You stiffen and the three guys turn their attention to a voice calling out from the audience. Speaking during the interviews was strictly prohibited until the question and answer section, but getting Katsuki’s attention was a surefire way to derail the entire episode.
“The fuck do you mean, what about Bakugo? Who the fuck said that?”
"Dude, just ignore them."
“Can’t be a family agency if Bakugo never gets into relationships,” the same nasally, irritating voice argues and your face feels like it’s been set on fire. Kirishima’s attention jumps to you for a moment and then back to his friend, whose palms are starting to spark like fireworks. “Do you just get no bitches, or something?” The audience gasps and security finally arrives to escort the disturbance out of the building. The director is ready to stop the cameras and jump to a commercial break, but Katsuki speaks before he can order the sound crew to cut the mics. To everyone’s surprise, his voice is nothing but amusement, like the insinuation didn’t bother him in the slightest. 
“You think I don’t get into relationships?”
“Bakugo…”
“It’s alright, Pikachu. I really don’t give a shit about whatever that guy said,” Katsuki reassures his friend with a sly glint in his eye. His friends watch him warily, like a grenade on the verge of exploding. Once again, burning red eyes meet yours with a single question that you answer with a resolute nod. “I’m not gonna blow up, so stop looking like that. Really, I don’t care.”
“Why not?” A tense beat of silence passes, then–
“I thought you people knew that I’m married.” A shit-eating grin spreads across your husband’s face as gasps of shock burst from the audience. Kirishima and Denki both shake their heads in exasperation. They knew already, of course, but they didn’t expect him to reveal his relationship status as a result of a heckler. “Yep, going on a year and a half, now. Around five years together total coming this winter.” More collective cries of jealousy, surprise, and betrayal shake the building’s foundation. "If you don't believe me, ask these guys."
"Yeah, we were at the wedding, too. It's hard to keep it a secret when all of your friends are also high-profile heroes."
“Can you guys believe that he fell in love during the winter?” Denki’s thumb juts out toward his friend, who frowns at the mere mention of cold weather.
“I fucking hate the winter,” he grumbles. 
“We know, man,” Kirishima says sympathetically, unsuccessfully hiding a chuckle. “You’ve been saying that since high school.”
“Yeah, and shit hasn’t changed,” Katsuki bites back with lighthearted indignance. “Look, they saved my ass when it was cold; how was I not supposed to fall in love with them?” To your delight, his complexion has turned a slightly darker shade of pink. “Yeah, I love them. What about it, asshats?”
“Is this a bad time to bring up the family agency again?”
“Let’s go to commercial before I blow this fucking chair to pieces.”
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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months
Note
grocery shopping with jason, beyond obsessed with doing domestic things with this big strong sometimes broody guy
Idk why the idea of Jason being the only sane person if the BatFam went to Costco or Sam’s club is funny to me.
Grocery shopping at night only. Jason is your scary dog privilege. I didn’t mean for this to be so short, I’ll probably do a target run at some point 😅
“Smell this one.” You hold up two various body washes for Jason to smell. One is a creamy, soft vanilla, the other is a fragrant, artificial strawberry with lilac leaves printed on the bottle.
“They both smell fine,” he insists after smelling them. “Why’re you asking me?”
“Cause I know you use it sometimes.”
He says nothing at this quiet truth. Maybe sometimes he’d reach for your bottle during his exhausted showers. Maybe he didn’t care if the smell clung to him for a good while. He didn’t mind one bit.
“That one.” He points towards the scent he preferred.
Essentials first. That was the quiet deal before getting produce. You loved asking for his opinions on a lot of stuff, since you practically ‘lived in the same bed.’
Jason didn’t particularly mind when he’d tread along with you when you wanted a new soap or lotion. Sometimes it was kind of amusing the array of options their turned out to be. You had a good nose, picking out scents he adored smelling on you every time he held you close, invading his hoodies every time you wore them.
“Do we have popcorn at home?” Came your first question after his arms settled snugly around your waist, holding you content to his chest.
“Half a box yeah, why?” You try to tilt your head up, but fail when Jason purposely rests his chin ontop.
“Just wondering,” he answers. “You ‘bout done here?”
“Yeah. Why? Too many single girls making eye contact?”
“More like a ton of single mothers.” He chuckles, breaking into a laugh when you lightly slap the back of his hand.
Checking for produce was a team effort. Sometimes you can’t remember if you have enough of this or that, but Jason’s good memory usually came in hand.
“You had one of these before?” You question whilst holding up a spiky, untrustworthy vegetable after grabbing some cheery looking bell peppers.
“Uh, no? Don’t think so. Don’t know how you would eat those.”
“We could ask Alfred,” you reply while slightly rocking the cart back and forth. “Anything else?”
“I’m thinking.” Jason keeps still, tilting his head back in thought. “I’m thinking got everything. Anything else you want, babe?”
You would say yes, but you don’t really know what you’re particularly in the mood for after filling up your shopping list, having extra money to spend.
This led to the both of you wandering around the store, slightly vacant due to most people settling at home, eating their meals or spending time with their families.
You peer along the freezer windows as you stroll by, nearly coming to a stop after examining some interesting coffee ice cream.
Bump.
The sudden soft prod of the cart frame against your behind made you scoff, turning over your shoulder to peer at a smirking Jason.
“Oops.”
“Rude!”
“Sorry. You walk too slow.”
Scoffing, you grab a bag of frozen blueberries and turn around, witnessing Jason quickly and carelessly toss a bag of frozen avocado into the cart.
“Hey, theirs a system Todd!” You step closer, quickly rearranging the produce and snacks back into their ‘original’ spots.
“Says the woman playing Tetris with our food.”
“The avocados crushing the bread!” You gesture towards the produce. You click your tongue and scoff again to Jason’s delight as you left the bread untouched.
Good thing too. You almost saw the ice cream he had hidden underneath it.
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Going grocery shopping with the mans 🧍🏽‍♀️
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freedomfireflies · 7 months
Text
Jealous*
Summary: The fourth part to 404*
The one where Harry's even more annoying when he's jealous.
But he's kind of cute, too.
Word Count: 5.6k
*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*
(Note: This edit is not mine!! I believe the @ is on it, but full credit to the incredible creator! It's so perfect!!)
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“Head back, tongue out.”
Quickly shifting onto your knees, you glance up at the man before you. Watching eagerly as Harry’s large hand strokes the hardened cock that lingers near your lips.
His other palm reaches out for your neck, slowly sliding up into your hair before tugging you back even further. “Like this,” he murmurs, only satiated when you oblige. “Good girl. Show me your tongue, Tink. Come on, not gonna ask you again.”
Quickly, you rush to obey, presenting it to him willingly as you scoot closer and silently plead for his offering.
He gives you a rare, pleased smile that makes your insides jump before he brings his cock closer to your mouth, tapping it twice. “Gonna swallow it all, yeah? Like a good little cumslut?”
Nodding fervently, your lashes flutter in a somewhat desperate attempt to coax him closer to release.
To this, he exhales an amused breath, smirk growing until you see that familiar and infuriatingly charming dimple. “You’re a lot less annoying when you’re desperate, you know that?”
You swat at his thigh. “Shut up and cum in my mouth already.”
“Eager, are we?”
“The fuck do you think? Just do it, come on.”
“See, there you go again. Don’t know how to romance a guy, do you?”
“And why would I ever want to romance you?”
He laughs and sweeps the tip of his cock along your bottom lip. “Because deep down…you like me. Don’t you, Princess?”
And before you can reply with another quippy retort, he’s sliding himself along your tongue, and filling your mouth completely.
It doesn’t take long for that warm, salty tang to go slipping down your throat. Effortlessly coating your taste buds as Harry tightens his grip on your head and releases a rather lascivious groan.
“Fuck…there you go, that’s a good girl,” he murmurs, using his other hand to brace himself against the wall to keep upright. “Take it…fucking take it, Tink, good. Feel so fucking good, don’t you? Such a tight little mouth, yeah?”
He’s babbling, a string of nonsense and praises falling from his tongue, but you revel in it. Indulge in the way you’re the only one on his mind, the only one to make him fall apart so quickly.
And you imagine you’d both like to stay here in the lobby coat closet for at least a few more minutes (or a few more rounds), but before you can entertain the idea, your phone is going off.
The shrill alarm cuts the moment in two, slicing it right down the middle as you pop off his cock and reach over to turn it off.
In turn, Harry blinks, breathing still a tad ragged as he steps back. “What…what is that for?”
“Oh, I have a meeting with Mr. Prescott in five.” You straighten up onto your feet and swipe the back of your wrist across your mouth. “This was fun, though. Thanks.”
Harry blinks. “Wow. Way to dine and dash.”
“Funny,” you snort as you head for the door. “Anyway, I think I’ll be good for a while, so…no need to keep dragging me in here.”
“I didn’t drag you,” he argues with a huff while yanking his jeans back up. “I casually suggested it and you jumped at the opportunity.”
“Mm…wrong.”
“Mm…right. Face it, Princess, you can’t stop thinking about me.”
“Actually, I think about everybody but you,” you tell him. “Seriously, just the sound of your name kills my libido. It’s quite sad.”
His eyes roll. “Fucking go already, I have shit to do.”
“Fine, but you have to wait at least three minutes,” you remind him as you slip out into the hallway. “I mean it. Cassie almost saw us last time and I was mortified. So be less suspicious this time.”
“Come on, do you really think I want people to know we’re shagging?” he retorts, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall in wait. “Getting seen with you at the bar was already bad enough.”
“Yeah? Is that why you stuck your hand down my pants in front of everybody?”
“Okay, you know what—”
“No, I don’t. Bye,” you call before swinging the door shut.
Harry’s muffled grumbling follows you all the way to the elevator.
You can’t help but grin as you step inside and hit the button for the fifth floor, flashes of his hands and practiced fingers flooding the forefront of your mind.
You might still hate him, but you suppose you don’t mind his company as much anymore. He’s not as irritating as he was when you first started this little arrangement, and you’ve noticed his technique has gotten better. He’s always been good, but recently he seems to be trying incredibly hard to make each time the best. 
Not that you’d dare complain. After all, it’s not like you’ve really—
“Wait, hold the door!”
Quickly, you reach out and press your palm against the sliding entrance, keeping it inside the frame as the stranger swiftly slides through.
You watch as he gratefully slumps against the railing, seemingly out of breath as he nods his appreciation and allows you to release your hand.
“Thank you,” he exhales, head dropping back against the wall as the elevator takes off. “Thought I was gonna have to take the stairs.”
“No problem,” you return before gesturing toward the buttons. “Which floor?”
“Fifth,” he answers, smiling when he notices it’s already been selected. “You, too?”
“Yeah, I work in the lab.”
Curious, the man straightens up. “No kidding. You’re one of the engineers?”
“Mhm. For about four years now.”
“No fucking way,” he replies, studying you with interest. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah, actually. Pay is good, hours are better.”
“Ah, very nice,” he muses. “In that case, do you think you’d be able to show me to Prescott’s office?”
“Sure. I’m headed there now, actually.”
“Yeah?” His head tilts. “Wait, shit…you wouldn’t be working on the Keaton Project, would you?” 
Surprised by his knowledge on your current work, you blink. “Uh…yes, actually. How did you…?”
“I’ve been hired to help with your development operations,” he tells you. “Just for a couple weeks, see where you’re at.”
“Oh, that’s good. Harry and I could use the help.”
The mystery man smirks. “Good. S’what I like to hear.”
With that, the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open, allowing you and the stranger to begin down the hall and toward the main office.
After a rather interesting discussion with Mr. Prescott, you learn a bit more about Lucas, your new project partner. 
He’s incredibly smart and well spoken, he’s got some wonderful ideas for the website, and he’s absolutely going to drive Harry up the goddamn wall.
You’re practically giddy as you lead Lucas back to the lab to help him get set up. Already imagining the scowl on Harry’s face when he learns he’ll be sharing a space with someone else. Someone arguably much better suited for the position and with much fresher ideas. 
Unfortunately, Harry has already left for the day by the time you return. And while you’re somewhat disappointed that you’ll have to wait on the introductions, you use the rest of the shift to get acquainted with Lucas.
Turns out, he’s delightful, and you laugh harder with him than you have anybody else in a long time. He’s rather flirty, too, you notice, but you don’t mind. It’s nice to have such forward attention and you revel in his sneaky smiles and playful remarks.
You leave the lab that afternoon with a large grin, laughing when he calls, “Goodbye, Duchess,” as you walk out the door.
Come Monday morning, Harry is in a foul mood. You notice it before he’s even set foot into the room, the exasperated expression on his face visible from the parking lot.
He walks differently when he’s upset, you realize. With his hunched shoulders, clenched fists, and heavy footsteps that echo through the halls.
Everyone within a hundred-foot radius takes notice, shooting him odd looks as he strides by, but he pays them no mind. Instead making a beeline for his corner of the room where you reside before throwing his things down with a huff.
“Morning, Sunshine,” you call, turning in your chair to watch while he slumps into his. “What the hell is going on with your hair? It looks…well, like shit.”
A venomous glare is shot through the dark frames of his glasses. “Blow me, Princess. I’m not in the fucking mood today.”
“I can see that,” you reply calmly, hiding a smirk behind the rim of your coffee mug. “Hope you’re at least a little nicer to the new guy.”
Harry’s frazzled and irritated shuffling stills. “What new guy?”
“The new guy,” you say, nodding toward Lucas who’s beginning to make his way through the lab. “Prescott told you, right? He’s working with us for the next couple of weeks on development operations.”
Harry’s attention follows the tall, lanky figure as he moves between the tables, a frown beginning to form. “What the fuck?” he scoffs quietly but full of repulsion. “I’m sorry, since when do we need a fucking babysitter?”
“He’s not a babysitter, Harold. He’s just extra help—”
“We don’t need extra help,” Harry bites back. “Okay, I had it covered—”
“Clearly, yeah. Is that why the simulation kept glitching—”
“It wasn’t glitching, the code was just off. But I had it handled—”
“Sure, yeah. Obviously. That’s why Prescott hired someone else—”
“Duchess,” comes a new addition to the conversation, forcing you and Harry to lean back as Lucas approaches. “Hey, listen. Thank you again for showing me where to set up my shit, I really appreciate it.”
“Of course,” you return with a smile. “Seriously, anything we can help you with, just let us know.”
He nods. “Perfect, yeah. Most of it is just working on the HTML, but eventually I’d like your input on the file transfer.”
Peeved, Harry’s eyes flitter across the man’s face. “Right. And you are?”
“Lucas,” he replies brightly, offering you both a charming smile. “Yeah, sorry. Met Duchess here the other day on the elevator. You must be…Harry, right?”
Harry’s eyebrows begin to weave together, broad shoulders straightening up ever-so-slightly. “Why the fuck were you in our elevator?”
“Well, Duchess was showing me up to the lab," Lucas says, nodding his chin at you while you share a smirk. "Helped me set up, which was really sweet.”
You wave the compliment away while Harry slowly turns to you and subtly mouths, “Duchess?”
You shoot him a pointed look. “Yes. Well. Anyway, Harry and I are really excited about working with you. Aren’t we?”
Harry merely returns your stare with a glare of his own before gritting his teeth. “Fucking ecstatic.”
If Lucas picks up on the charged air between you, he doesn’t comment on it, instead grinning again as he steps back. “Perfect. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
You nod. “Absolutely. Oh, we’re still on for lunch, right?”
“Of course,” he calls before returning to the hallway, leaving you with a very displeased partner. 
You blink.
“Lunch?” Harry repeats, almost incredulously. “You’re having fucking lunch with the babysitter now?”
You snort. “It’s lunch, not an orgy. Relax, Harold—”
“And what the fuck is with the degrading nickname?” he continues, nodding his chin in the direction Lucas disappeared to before nudging his glasses back up. “He sounds like a fucking twat.”
“For your information, Duchess means queen,” you tell him haughtily. “And I love it. It’s a lot nicer than anything you call me.”
“I call you the same fucking thing—”
“No, you call me Tinkerbell,” you correct. “And Princess. Which is nice. But Queen trumps Princess. Sorry.”
He makes another noise before spinning around in his seat, turning his back to you. “Fucking ridiculous. Fine, have your fucking tea parties and your fucking nicknames while I get some real shit done.”
“It’s not a tea party, it’s lunch—”
“Oh, my apologies, your Royal Fucking Highness.”
You smirk.
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“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Got it stuck right up there. Poor thing had to go to the emergency room just to get it removed.”
Lucas laughs – a loud, infectious laugh – while glancing down at his plate with a shake of his head. “Shit. I bet he enjoyed that.”
“No. No, not at all,” you chuckle. “And he wouldn’t speak to me for about a week afterward. Honestly? It was the best week of my life.”
“I imagine.” He runs a long finger around the rim of his glass in thought. “So, he’s always been like that, then? Kind of…sullen? And moody?”
Smiling to yourself, you run through your memories of the brooding man you’ve known for years. Remembering the first day you met, and the way you instantly became enamored by those bright green eyes and chestnut curls.
“No,” you admit. “No, he used to be…fun. Nice. Shy, even.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, he was…I mean, he was nervous, I think. It was one of his first jobs out of university, and I think he just wanted to do a good job.”
“Makes sense,” Lucas replies. “From what I’ve seen, he’s quite good at what he does.”
“He is,” you agree, almost begrudgingly. “Always has been, which is really annoying.”
He smiles. “So, what happened? What made him switch?”
You release a heavy sigh and shrug your shoulder. “Honestly…I don’t know. There was a bit of a dark period. He stopped talking to people, stopped going out. Got a motorcycle of all things. And then he just…wasn’t the same.”
“And he never talked about it?”
You snort. “No, Harry doesn’t…talk. About personal things. At least not with me. And asking never gets me anywhere.”
A quiet pause settles over your small table before Lucas leans closer.
“I think he trusts you, Duchess,” he says. “And I think he’s scared of how much.”
“That’s quite an observation from someone who just met him.”
“What can I say, it’s my superpower,” he teases. “But I mean it. His hostility felt…forced. Like he was putting up a wall to save face. And if he really didn’t like you…he wouldn’t spend so much of his time trying to be near you.”
It’s a nice thought. Sweet, even, and you’re almost tempted to entertain the idea.
But you know Harry. You know his cruel jokes, and his pensive demeanor. You know that he fucks to drown out the rest of the world, and that he’d rather spend the rest of his life alone than in someone else’s company.
So, you simply sigh, and offer Lucas another shrug. “Yeah, well. If that were the case, I’d hope he’d at least—”
“The fuck is all this?”
The two of you turn toward the sound of Harry’s huffed remark, smirking to yourselves when you see that familiar frown.
“Uh…lunch,” you reply calmly, raising an eyebrow. “Like I told you.”
Harry comes to a stop just beside the table, flicking his glare between you. “It takes you a fucking hour to eat?”
Your eyes narrow. “It hasn’t been an hour, and we were talking.”
“So you were wasting time?”
Lucas grins, and you catch the way he glances down at the table to hide his amusement.
You straighten up and direct your displeasure toward Harry. “We were not wasting time, we were eating and getting to know each other. Is that all right with you?”
“No,” Harry says simply, and it infuriates you. “You don’t get paid to talk shit.”
“We were not—” You suck in a sharp breath, silently commanding yourself to remain relaxed. “Do you want something?”
“Yes, actually. Prescott wants to see us.”
You blink. “Why?”
“Don’t know.”
You look to Lucas, confused and slightly annoyed while Lucas leans back curiously.
“I’ll come with you,” he offers as you both stand. “If it’s about the project, maybe I can help explain—”
“We don’t need your help,” Harry interjects bluntly. “And he didn’t ask for you. He asked for us.”
You shoot another peeved look his way. “Harry—”
“Really, it’s no problem,” Lucas tries. “I probably need to get caught up, anyway—”
“Then catch up on your own fucking time,” Harry nearly snaps, large hand outstretching to snatch onto your upper arm. “If we need you, we’ll ask for you.”
With that, he begins to drag you away from the table, leaving Lucas and his mystification behind.
Stumbling along, you begin to fight against Harry’s firm grip, already wildly annoyed. “What the fuck is your problem—”
“Your car is fixed, right?” is all he says, keeping his eyes forward as he leads you through the lobby and toward the parking lot.
You hesitate. “Uh…yeah? Why?”
“Where is it?”
Your lashes flutter as you look from him to the array of vehicles before you. “Um…there. By the tree.”
With a short nod, he yanks you forward, guiding you to your car without so much as an explanation. 
Still irritated, you slip yourself free right as he stops beside the trunk. “The hell are you doing—”
He opens the backdoor. “Get in.”
“What?”
“I said get in,” Harry repeats, “Duchess.”
You frown. “And why would I do that?” 
“Because I’m gonna fuck you.”
And you almost want to laugh because you can’t believe where he got the nerve. “You’ve got to be kidding—”
“I’m not,” he says, rather assuredly before guiding his glasses back up. “Get in.”
“Harry…this is so fucking—”
“Don’t care.” He nods his chin toward the backseat. “In, Princess.”
You reckon you should stand your ground and refuse him. Tell him how childish he’s being, how vulgar, how rude. Make it clear that he doesn’t get to stomp his foot and demand you do as you’re told just because he’s upset.
And yet…your legs urge you forward until you’re slipping inside the car and settling on the other side.
Harry follows suit, yanking the door shut to close out the rest of the world before facing you. “Take off your jeans.”
However, your expression is menacing as you begin to fumble with the zipper on your pants. “You’re so fucking pathetic, you know that?”
“Yeah,” he says simply, but he’s beginning to smile as he tugs off his own belt. “But I’m not as pathetic as whatever the fuck that was.”
“What was? A harmless, friendly lunch?”
“Please,” he snorts. “He was clearly flirting with you, and it was hard to watch.”
Your eyes roll as you tug your jeans down your legs. “He was not flirting with me, he was just being nice—”
“Guys aren’t nice,” he retorts. “Not for nothing. He wanted something from you, and I spared you from having to pretend you were interested. You’re welcome.”
“Oh, really? And what did he want? To fuck me? Like you so desperately want to do?”
He scoffs, but he’s smirking. “I fuck you to make you feel better.”
“Right, okay.” You wiggle your underwear down your thighs. “Who’s to say he wasn’t gonna do the same?”
“He wasn’t,” he replies simply. “Trust me. Get up.”
With a huff, you oblige, turning around so you can settle on your hands and knees while Harry gets situated behind you. Strong hands melding to your hips to keep you steady.
His fingers move to smooth between your cheeks and down to your cunt, stroking it softly to prepare you.
Then, he chuckles. “And who is this for, hm?” he taunts, dipping into your arousal to spread it around. Ignoring the way you inhale a sharp hiss. “Me or him?”
You brace yourself against the seat of the car, chin dropping to your chest. “Him,” you grit. “Obviously.”
Harry hums, thumbing at your clit. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Suddenly, there’s a sharp smack to your left ass cheek that makes you reel, the pain instantly dissolving into pleasure as you whine. 
“Try again,” he tsks before slipping a practiced finger inside. “And this time…be honest.”
“I’m always honest,” you argue, already breathless from the feel of his touch. “How could it ever be for you?”
You can’t see him, but you imagine he’s smiling, entertained by your bratty behavior as he adds a second digit. Curling and pumping at a deliciously slow pace. 
“You’re right,” he finally answers. “You hate me. You’d never get wet for me.”
You swallow another noise. “Exactly.”
“And if I fuck you…you’ll moan his name. Won’t you, Tink?” 
“Yes.”
“Think about him the whole time. Beg him for what you think he can give you.”
“Shit—”
“Imagine his tiny, soft little cock. Too small to get you off. Probably wouldn’t even feel it, would you?”
He’s cruel. Sadistic and outrageously annoying. But he knows exactly how to play you, and you damn him to hell for how well it works. 
He reaches around your body to tug your shirt up, pushing it over your tits until he can take a nice handful.
You love his hands. Love the way his skin feels against yours. The way he tweaks your nipple and rolls it around.
“Like that, don’t you?” he coos, the rhythm of his strokes through your pussy ever steady. “Know you do. Cause I know your body, Princess. Better than he ever will.”
You try to ignore the pleasure that ripples across the deep of your stomach, keeping your focus on the stitching beneath you. You hate when he’s right.
Suddenly, and without warning, he rips his fingers out, leaving you empty and dripping while you groan.
“Easy,” he tuts, now tugging his cock free. He shifts some, propping his leg up onto the seat while his other foot remains on the floor. “Gonna have to be quick, aren’t we? Since you wasted so much of our lunch break with him.”
You exhale a scoff at this, glancing back just long enough to glare.
He grins.
“Stay still,” he instructs, dragging the tip through your folds. Spreading you gently and moaning when he sees his cock glisten with you. “Just like that, s’a good girl. Gonna make it better. Gonna fuck you right.”
The first push in is heaven. It always is, and you aren’t sure why. Like adding the final piece to the puzzle. Complete, in a sense.
Your nails curl into the seat below, a futile attempt at finding some stability as his thick cock stretches you open. 
You hear him hiss through gritted teeth, his hands once again finding your waist to hold you in place. “Breathe,” he suddenly calls, smacking your leg once. “You’re not breathing.”
“Sorry,” you gasp, forcing air back into your lungs. “Don’t…don’t know why I do that.”
He makes a small, entertained noise before allowing you a moment to adjust. “Feels that good, yeah? Do I take your breath away?”
“Blow me,” you retort, but you can’t help smiling. 
Finally, he settles himself all the way, sinking into your warm cunt rather comfortably as you both release sighs of relief. 
“There it is,” you hear him murmur, his fingers curling into your side before he pulls back. “Okay, easy. Easy, Tink, yeah? Shit—”
The rapid but hard pace is addictive. Perfectly full and pleasurable with each thrust and snap of his hips against your ass. 
Despite the somewhat small space, Harry finds a way to bend your body to his will. Keeping you below him as he drives himself faster and faster. Uncoordinated and unrhythmic. He’s merely chasing the feeling, chasing the way your pussy pulls him in. Clenches around him, soaks him, keeps him warm.  
“You know what?” he suddenly seethes, surging forward until he finds a new angle. “I think you were right…think you should have gone with him.”
You want to respond – want to make any other noise besides these strained whimpers, but it’s useless. Your voice forming around his name yet again as your toes curl.
“You were better before he came along,” he says, hand coming down to slap against your ass. The sound echoing around the tiny constraints of the vehicle. “Tighter. Needier. So fucking easy.”
Your lashes flutter, eyes rolling back. He’s feeding into the part of you that likes to be degraded, and you feel a chill dance down your spine.
“Did anything I fucking wanted. Took my cock like a good girl,” he continues. “Let me stretch you. Let me train you. Break you. Have my fucking way with my fucking pussy. Behaved so well for me.”
Another spank is had to your tender skin, and you cry out as you bury yourself into the seat below.
“Now, well…now you're just useless to me. Aren’t you, Princess?” His movements get sloppier. Faster. “Now you waste your time with him.”
In any other moment, you’d refute his comments. Play his game, egg him on.
But in this moment – a moment where your singular focus is him and only him – you find that you can only shake your head quickly and with misery. “No. No, just you.”
You hear him chuckle, and it makes a new wave of arousal rush between your legs. A type of praise you thrive on. “Just me, huh? But you’re not my whore anymore, are you? You’re his—”
“No,” you whimper, writhing when he reaches down to press his fingers to your clit. “Yours…you…only you.”
“I don’t know, Tink. Seemed awful smitten with him. Same way you used to be smitten with me—”
You can do nothing but whine pitifully as you push back into his touch, ass raised and spread in front of him.
Another smack ripples across your cheek before he kneads the flesh with his free hand, circling your clit with the other. “What? What do you wanna say, baby, hm? Wanna beg me to let you cum? Is that what you want?”
You try to nod, but your cheek is pressed firmly to the seat of the car. 
“I know you’re close,” he murmurs, shifting some so he has a better position to fuck himself into you quicker. “God, you’re so fucking close. Can feel your pretty little walls clamping down on me. You’re fucking shaking, baby, come on. Come on, let go. I’ll let you cum. Go ahead.”
To accompany his instruction, he begins to rub the sensitive nerves in a harder fashion. Pressing them down as he forces your body to comply.
It happens all in the same moment. There’s no time for preparation or warning as you release a strangled gasp that disappears into his equally fervent moan.
Instantly, he releases your clit to take hold of your hips with both hands, and slam his cock into you – sheathing himself completely as he releases his load.
It’s familiar and incredible. The car is hot and filled with the sounds of your ecstasy. You’re drowning in it – drowning in him. In the way he makes you feel, in the blinding pleasure that still travels down the back of your neck all the way to your toes.
It’s deep and it’s full and it’s endless. One of the best you’ve had, and you can’t help but smile as you work to catch your breath.
You begin to slump forward as Harry chases after you. Slipping his arm beneath your stomach to keep you upright and turn you toward him as his cock slips out. 
“Hey, hey,” he mumbles, glancing over the part of your face he can see. “You all right? You breathing?”
You nod weakly. “Mhm. M’good. So good.”
You catch his soft smile. “Good.”
He reaches for your panties, gently dragging them back up until they settle around your hips. Keeping what’s left of his cum inside of you.
“Just in case Lucas gets any ideas,” he teases, shooting you a wink before helping you sit up. 
You both begin to wrangle your clothing back on, redoing belts and buttons as you work to catch your breath. 
Oddly enough, Harry doesn’t rush to exit the car, and you find yourself somewhat surprised. Instead, he merely readjusts his glasses, runs a hand through his hair, and slumps back against the seat.
And for some reason, the sight of his flushed cheeks and dilated pupils makes you grin. And you find that you can’t resist moving closer and crawling onto his lap.
Once you’re straddled across his thighs, you dip down, and take his lips with yours. Kissing him hard and with everything you haven’t been able to give him before, ignoring his look of his surprise. 
But he kisses you back, exactly the way you knew he would. Taking hold of your body once more to keep you close.
Tongues and teeth clash – it’s messy and rushed, yet effortless and easy. And you can’t help but smile giddily as you tug on his bottom lip.
When you finally pull back to breathe, Harry is wearing a similar expression, seemingly dazed and amused as he holds you on his lap.
Chuckling, you swipe your thumb across his mouth. “God, you’re so fucking annoying.”
He nips at your finger to make you squeal. “I know.”
A quiet moment settles then as you study him, feeling entranced and relaxed by the soft green behind his crooked glasses.
With a gentle smirk, you push them back up, and whisper, “Were you really jealous?”
His snobby scoff makes you laugh. “I was not fucking jealous, Tinkerbell. You just don’t know him.”
“Neither do you,” you retort. “He’s really nice. He just wants to help.”
He groans again, letting his head drop back. “For fuck’s sake, Princess. You’re so goddamn trusting—”
“Yeah, I am. After all, I trust you.”
His eyes fall to yours. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He smiles again, and you feel your heart flutter. Reminded yet again of the way things used to be – a time before the hostility and angry comments.
You think back to what Lucas said. His inquiry on the shift, and while you’re sure nothing good can come from your prying, you find yourself asking, “What happened?”
Harry blinks. “What?”
“To you. To us, I guess,” you ask, growing oddly nervous under his confused stare. “When you first started, you were so…nice. And happy. And sweet, even.”
His expression falls, settling into a chilling frown.
“And then…I don’t know, something happened,” you continue, now a bit quieter. “You changed, you got…angry, and tense, and you just…you hid yourself away, you know? And don’t get me wrong, I like bickering with you, I just…I guess I’ve always wondered what…went…wrong?”
You feel him tense beneath you. The way his hands tighten and the way that soft green turns into a raging storm of indifference and spite.
Almost within the blink of an eye, he disappears into another version of himself. One that refuses to participate in this discussion and one that desperately wants to remove himself from you.
You can feel him slipping away. Can feel the drop in your stomach – a pit a mile deep. Normally, you like to piss him off. But this is different, this is…this isn’t what you want.
He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing once. “Why does it fucking matter?”
“I don’t…I guess it doesn’t,” you stammer, shrugging once. “I just wondered, is all. I don’t mind, or anything, I just…I was thinking about it—”
“Why?”
“I…I don’t know. Lucas asked, and I thought—”
“Lucas?” It’s a venomous scoff that makes you jolt. “Let me guess. He was just trying to help—”
“No, he just…he asked what you were like, and I said that you…you—”
“I what?”
“That…fuck, I just said things used to be different,” you huff, but your cheeks feel warm. You’re embarrassed. Disappointed in yourself for pushing. For ruining the first calm moment the two of you have ever shared. “And it made me think about it, so I…I wanted to ask—”
“Well don’t,” he seethes, releasing your waist as if trying to get away from you. “It’s none of your fucking business.”
“I know,” you agree, sliding off his lap to give him a bit of space. “I know, I’m sorry, I just…I thought maybe I could help.”
He shoots you a look that splits right through you. It’s cold and it’s incredulous and it makes your throat run dry. 
“Why?” he says again, studying you closely. “Why the fuck would you want to help?”
Truthfully, you aren’t sure. “I don’t know. Maybe because there’s a part of me…a very small part…that doesn’t totally hate you? I guess?”
You wince as you say it. You hate the way it sounds. Hate what it implies because you do hate him. 
But not enough to leave him when he needs you.
Harry’s lashes flutter at your response, and he watches you for a moment more before he leans back, and his expression twists.
“Yeah, well…it doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, almost to himself as he reaches for the handle on the door. “So don’t fucking worry about it.”
Confused and somewhat dejected, you lean forward. “Har—”
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“…what?”
He sighs, looking down toward the floor. Refusing your eye. “I can’t do this anymore, I can’t…I don’t want to do this. With you. It’s too fucking…there’s too much extra shit. All right, it was fun, but I don’t…I’m done.”
There are a hundred things you want to say. A hundred excuses, a hundred pleas, a hundred retorts.
But none of them feel fitting as you watch him push the door open and step out. 
He hesitates, almost as though expecting you to stop him. To argue and call him back.
Yet you don’t. Because you know that nothing you say will ever be able to change his mind.
He’s already decided.
“Fine,” you whisper, offering a short nod. “Yeah, fine. Whatever you want.”
He looks at you. Finally. Expression filled with a solemn sort of goodbye before he nods as well.
And the door slams shut.
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tryslora · 1 month
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On Writing Combat and Sex Scenes
Today I want to talk about writing sex and combat (and no, I do not mean combative sex). This post is inspired by a few recent events:
Once, a long time ago, I read a blog post that said “if you can write a combat scene, you can write a sex scene” and that was mind-blowing for me because while I was well-versed in writing erotica, I couldn’t write combat to save my life.
More recently, at Boskone, I participated on a panel about writing combat, and the research involved there-in.
Even more recently, I had someone look at me say, “You’re not a gay guy. How do you write gay sex scenes?”
So. Let’s begin.
I get it—sex and combat aren’t interchangeable. But at their core, they have some strong similarities which can be leveraged while writing. Both are intense, high drama, and can involve a lot of anxiety and quick thought. Both tend to narrow focus down to the moment and the current feeling and action. Both are heightened emotion and physical reaction. Both can involve actions that lie outside the author’s personal experience.
I started writing erotica when I was a freshman in college. I posted it online (does anyone remember rec.arts.erotica?) and was surprised (and pleased) by the compliments I received. Turned out my readers were not expecting the idea of emotion being entangled in their erotica. They were invested emotionally in how the stories went, and how my characters felt. Since I was writing from the point of view that made sense to me at the time, they were het stories from a female perspective, and they were very focused on the emotional connections and how the physical events heightened those emotions.
Male readers were surprised by the intensity of the feelings that these stories gave them (as opposed to pure arousal). It got me thinking about how I wrote, and why I wrote, and I tried to talk about it some at the time. I was eighteen. I was still a new writer. The internet itself was new. I wasn’t entirely certain how to frame it, but I remember getting one comment where a guy was surprised at how struck he’d been by the moment in the scene where everything shuddered to a halt due to an event in the story that interrupted the action, and I replied that that was because I wasn’t writing about the sex. I was writing about the character’s reaction to the sex.
Which has always been how I write. At the time, that was my only tool: put myself in the character’s mind, and write what they feel. If that’s affection and attraction and physical reaction, write that. Tangle it up, and hope the reader feels that entanglement.
Now, fast forward several years, and take a little side trip onto a tangent wherein I learned something very important about writing craft.
I was reading Syne Mitchell’s End in Fire, I think it was, and I kept having panic attacks. Now, I did most of my reading late, often when I woke in the middle of the night due to stress, or just because my brain refused to rest. I was in a rough place in life in general, with a lot of external work stuff going on and very small children. I wasn’t sleeping well. And it took me some time to figure out why I was struggling to read a book which I actually loved (and when I read it later in life, I enjoyed it greatly).
It was the sentence structure.
In order to induce the emotion of the scene, the sentences were short. Sharp. Quick. There was no time for the reader to breathe, much like there was no time for the heroine to do anything but act. The reader was caught up in the rising tension, to the point where my anxious, sleep-deprived brain, caught a panic attack from it.
The technique was brilliant.
Now back to our original timeline, wherein I read a post about how if you can write combat, you can write sex scenes. This post assumed that more people felt comfortable writing violence than sex. I was the reverse. I’d been writing about sex for over a decade when I saw this post, and it made a light bulb go off in my brain.
If writing sex was like writing combat… was the reverse also true? Could I improve my skills at writing battles by analyzing what worked when I wrote erotica?
So I tried doing just that. Back then, I found combat overwhelming. There was so much going on, and I was trying so hard to write good description that I lost all of the intensity. I was focusing on everything that was going on at the same time.
Thinking about how sex scenes were all intense emotion and narrowed focus, I applied that to my combat scenes. I wrote only what the point of view character experienced, and tied everything to their actions and reactions. I thought about how they breathed, how they moved, how they thought. I used those short, sharp sentences as they processed the scene. 
That doesn’t mean I forgot about everything else going on in the scene. That’s impossible. After all, in any story the things the character doesn’t pay attention to might be as important as the things they do focus on. Stuff still happens, and there is still fallout. I needed to know what else was happening so that if the character moved from one place to another, or did something that put them in the path of a different part of the action, I could have them start processing it.
But it also meant that on the page, out of sight was out of mind. Everything narrowed down to the now. The immediacy. Suddenly my combat scenes snapped into focus.
During the panel at Boskone, all of the panelists had experience with different fighting styles (fencing, street combat, and of course, me with taekwondo). I spoke about how for me, that narrow focus is very real when I spar. I know there are some people who naturally see a move or two ahead while fighting; I don’t. I am stuck in act and react mode. Can I kick them now? Can I attempt a head shot? Oh, no, circle back and away or they’re going to hit me… that’s how my brain works during a sparring match.
It’s not like a total blackout—there should be a vague awareness of things around the character. Sounds in particular, or sometimes flashes of movement. Something distracting can catch the attention of the fighter, but the personal fight will always pull the character back.
Combat feels easy when I’m writing like that.
Of course, there’s still the question of writing about something if I’ve never experienced it. As someone did point out to me: I am not a gay man, so how does that affect writing sex scenes? I’ve also never fought with a sword. Brawled. Fought from horseback. I have, however, held a blade, shot a gun, shot an arrow, rode a horse. I have a vague idea of how these things work, much like I have a working knowledge of sex in general.
So yes, research gets involved. Sometimes research is observational, sometimes it’s reading (there’s so much good stuff out there). I highly recommend video for combat scenes—find things that have the feel that you’re going for, then put yourself in the place of the character you want to write about. Practice. Work through the ideas of how things fit together, and what your character will (and will not!) know during the fight.
If you need to, stand up and block the scene by thinking about how you would experience it. What can you see, and what is out of sight? If someone is coming at you with a blade, what are your options? How do height differences affect you? Yes, I have asked friends and husband to help me block scenes. 
“Stand right there and show me what it looks like if you punch me. Okay, so if I do this then…” Yeah. It’s a thing. But it works.
When doing your research, remember that movie fighting (and hell, movie sex scenes) isn’t realistic. It’s meant to look good. For combat, if you can find re-enactments, or sparring videos, I highly recommend taking a look at those. 
Anyway, the point is: I don’t have to have shot someone, and I don’t have to have had gay sex in order to write about them. What I do need to know is how it feels emotionally to do those things, and I can extrapolate that from what I do know. I need to know enough about the details so I can get it right, and that’s where research will help me. Also, use language to create emotion. Because emotions are where we grab the reader, and how we pull them into the scene.
Combat and sex aren’t so different when it comes to writing, and the personal experience. Now, go forth and write!
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smutstevington · 8 months
Text
Resensitized | Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: You need a place to move in, and your new friend has a spare room. Turns out, he's a porn star, and now you can't stop thinking about him. What ever will you do?
Part 2 here and part 3 here :)
Word Count: 7.6K
Warnings: MINORS DNI PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING, smut, Pornstar!Eddie x fem reader (no defining characteristics or use of y/n), modern day, friends to lovers...kind of? Fingering, oral (fem receiving), protected p in v, the knee thing™️, Eddie is a soft dom but also a simp, reader is his exception, and they were roommates(!)
A/N: I'm baaaaack! I was randomly inspired by this concept and couldn't stop thinking about it until it was done. Please know I wrote this with as much respect to sex work as I could, but there might be some inaccuracies just because I'm not too familiar with the industry nowadays. Until next time! xx
-------------------
You met Eddie at a party. He was a friend of a friend’s plus one, so he didn’t really know anybody, and you noticed nobody was talking to him, so you went over there and struck up a conversation.
Eddie was sweet. Eddie was goofy. Eddie was a little rough around the edges, but ultimately gave you good vibes. You ended up talking to him for quite a while, and when the night came to an end, you realized you didn’t want to stop talking to him. 
It wasn’t, like, a crush thing - although, he was handsome and definitely crush material - it was more that it was hard making friends as an adult, and you liked being around him. So many times, you’d met people and left them just as fast, and you didn’t want that to happen with Eddie.
You gave him your Instagram, which he followed, and then you requested to follow him back, which he accepted. 
You didn’t talk much for a month or two. He didn’t really post anything, but would comment or react to your posts and stories. Most often, you complained about your living situation - your landlord and your roommates were awful, and eventually your lease came to an end. You jokingly posted - “who’s gonna help me find a new apartment?”
Eddie replied - I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I might be able to help.
It turned out that Eddie had a room vacant in his two-bedroom apartment. The idea seemed kind of out there at first, but you realized it wasn’t much different than searching for roommates online. Besides, this was safer, since you knew Eddie already, and you couldn’t afford an apartment by yourself, so…
You went over to look at his place, and holy shit. It was incredible there. Clean, although slightly cluttered with his various belongings - movie posters, music, video games, and the like. Also, the rent he was asking for was absurdly low. It felt like a no-brainer.
“Eddie, this is - I mean, this is perfect,” you told him. He grinned. 
“Okay,” he said with a nod. “Uhh, there’s just one thing I feel like I should tell you before you move in.”
“What is it?” you asked. Suddenly, you saw Eddie get nervous, and you couldn’t possibly predict what would warrant that reaction. He took a deep breath. 
“Maybe you already know, but it feels like you don’t know? So I just - ugh. If you don’t know, I think I gotta tell you.” You stared at him, confused.
“Eddie, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
He smirked slightly, then sighed as his hands fell to his sides.
“I…do…porn?” he said at last. You stared at him blankly as you processed this.
“I’m gonna need you to elaborate,” you replied. “Like OnlyFans?”
“Sometimes,” he answered. “Look, I - I’ve done it for a few years, and I guess I’m kinda popular. It’s why a lot of the time, people stay away from me, because it puts them off. Or, they’re embarrassed about recognizing me, which I guess I understand. But anyway, that’s why I was surprised you never said anything or asked me about it. Judging by your reaction, I’m guessing you had no idea.” 
Huh.
“I…really didn’t.” 
It wasn’t that you were judging him - not at all - but living with someone who did that sort of thing brought up all kinds of questions. Eddie’s anxiety returned. 
“Ah, shit. That ruined everything, didn’t it?” He ran his hands through his hair. “I just - It’s how I make money, but it’s not my whole life or anything. But I felt like you should at least know about it if you were gonna live with me.”
“Do you do any of it here?” you asked. Eddie shrugged.
“Sometimes.”
You nodded slowly.
“Like, in the living room or just your room?” His eyes narrowed as he tried to assess how you felt through your line of questioning.
“Uhh - my room. I mean, I guess there was one time on the couch, but for the record I’ve gotten a new couch since then. Oh, and if you move in and don’t want me filming anything here, I won’t. Not even solo stuff. Shit. Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, I just have a pretty casual view on sex and I kind of forget that not everybody -”
“I think I’m okay with this,” you decided. 
“Really?”
“Yeah.” You looked around the beautiful apartment that would save you a crap ton of money, and you realized you couldn't pass this up. Besides, you weren’t a prude. “My last roommates had loud sex all the time, and our walls were so thin it felt like I was intruding, somehow.” Eddie laughed, his anxiety easing slightly. “Plus, I don’t care what you do. I bet it’s good money. As long as I’m not in any of the videos, we’re good to go.”
“Wow,” he responded, stunned. “I honestly didn’t expect you to be so cool about it.” You shrugged.
“Just don’t eat my food and we should be fine,” you concluded. 
“Deal,” he replied. You shook his hand, and thus began your time as Eddie Munson’s roommate.
-
Ohhhh, this was a mistake.
Living with Eddie was a total breeze for the first two months. He was respectful and didn’t talk about work at all unless you asked him about it, which you didn’t. You both were pretty busy people so you didn’t even see each other that often. 
But then, two months in, you got curious and watched one of his videos.
Holy. Shit.
First of all, you couldn’t believe you’d never stumbled across him before in your searches, because he was, like, really popular. He’d undersold himself, for sure. Although, you didn’t watch porn that often (you preferred reading it or listening to it), because usually there was something off about it. Like, the women felt like they were acting, or they weren’t even trying to hide that they were acting and were really bad at it, or the dirty talk was weird, etc etc. 
Eddie’s videos were not like that. 
(Yeah, after the first one you watched a few more).
Look, the man knew what he was doing. He had chemistry with everyone, and something about it was captivating. It’s not like you were getting off to them - that would have been weird - but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you the fuck on.
He hadn’t been lying either about the locations. None of the videos you’d watched were recorded at the apartment. 
You weren’t sure if you would have cared if they had been, though. Like, as long as any shared furniture was cleaned after, it wasn’t a huge deal, right? Pretty much every couch anywhere you go has been used for sex at some point. So, this wasn’t much different.
Anyway, watching Eddie’s videos had been a mistake, because now when you saw him in the morning, pouring himself a cup of coffee in his robe, you knew what he looked like naked.
Fuck.
“Morning,” he said casually. “Want some?” You nodded, and then he took another mug from the cupboard and poured coffee into it for you. When you went to the kitchen counter to grab it from him, his knuckles brushed yours, and you jumped a little at the touch. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. You went to the fridge and took the creamer from the shelf, then topped off your coffee with it. 
“How’d you sleep?” you asked. 
“Good,” he replied. “Oh, so I’m going to the grocery store in a bit. You need anything?” You took a sip of your coffee before answering. 
“Uhhh, yeah, but I was actually planning on going myself,” you said. 
“We could go together,” he suggested.
You took another sip of coffee as a way to stall, even though it was too hot. You had no reason from his perspective to say no - the two of you had gone on errands together a few times, and it had been fine. Besides, you legitimately had to go to the grocery store, so if you said no and went later it would just look suspicious.
”Sounds good,” you agreed with a smile. He smiled back, then nodded. 
“Great, just let me know when you’re ready.”
You finished your coffee in your room, because being around him was making you nervous. It was so dumb, feeling this way. Nothing had changed. You were the same people you’d been yesterday. Watching that video was an incredibly poor choice, but at the same time, how were you supposed to refrain? You lived with a guy who was famous for getting women off. You wondered how you hadn’t known any of this when you’d first met him, but then pieces came together. The reason he was alone at the party. Why his Instagram was private. Why he didn’t have a roommate. 
When you agreed to move in, you promised yourself you wouldn’t be weird about it, and now here you were, hiding in your room because you were too awkward to maintain small talk with your roommate. 
Eventually, you got dressed and psyched yourself up for what was to come. You just had to get those videos out of your mind, that’s all. 
Easy enough, right?
Wrong!
“Did you listen to the song I sent you yesterday?” he asked as you walked to the car.
“Uh, no, not yet,” you replied. He clutched his heart as if you had broken it, then laughed.
“Okay, well then I guess I know what we’re listening to on the way.”
Once again, all of this should have been easy like it always was. But you couldn’t stop staring at his hands on the steering wheel, the rings on his fingers, and - God forbid - his lips. And his eyes? Forget it. 
“Good song,” you said, staring straight ahead at the road.
“Of course it is, I picked it out,” he teased. You saw him glance at you in your peripheral vision. “Everything okay? You’re quiet today.”
“Everything’s fine,” you blurted out, maybe too quickly to be convincing. 
“Ooookay,” he responded. “Well, I don’t believe you, but you can keep your secrets.”
You remained slightly awkward and flustered around him, particularly any time he touched you. He’d tap you on the shoulder to get your attention, or reach across you to grab a bunch of bananas that you were standing in front of, and it came to a point where you told him you had to go off on your own to grab something just because you knew you were totally giving yourself away. But after a few more minutes to yourself in the chips aisle, you felt relatively normal again. 
Disaster only really struck on the way home. 
“So, this tattoo place on the right,” he said. “That’s where I usually go. The guy who works there is incredible. His designs are sick as hell.”
“How many do you have?” you asked. He scrunched his eyebrows as he thought about it.
“I guess it depends on what you’d count as one,” he replied. “Like, I have almost a half-sleeve on my right arm, but I didn’t get it all done at once.”
“Count them however you’d like.” He thought about it some more, then shrugged. 
“I have a lot of them, and I always want more.” 
“I’ve heard it’s addictive,” you replied. “So, what would you get next?”
“I’m thinking about adding to the one on my thigh,” he answered. 
“The witch?” you asked. He raised his eyebrows. The tattoo on his thigh was pretty iconic, actually. It was a woman on a broomstick with her tits out. Not something you would ever personally get, but Eddie pulled it off. “Are you going to give her a friend? Or a bra?”
Eddie snorted laughing, then covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle it. It didn’t work, and he burst into laughter again.
“Come on, my joke wasn’t that funny,” you said, rolling your eyes. Eddie’s laughter finally faded enough for him to explain. 
“I never told you what the tattoo was,” he informed you. Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake.
“I - um -”
“That’s what’s going on! You looked me up!” he exclaimed. Despite your absolute humiliation, he seemed to only find it amusing. “Don’t get all shy about it. It’s fine. I’m honestly impressed you held out this long.”
“Can we not talk about it?” you asked, trying to awkwardly laugh with him but mostly wishing you were six feet underground. 
“Whatever you want, roomie,” he replied with a grin. “I’m just glad I didn’t do anything wrong.” You bit your lip, then released it.
“No, you did pretty much everything exactly right,” you responded, deciding to lean into the awkward situation. Eddie licked his lips and smirked. 
“Good to hear,” he said, smug. He pulled into your apartment complex, parked the car, and took the keys from the ignition. You felt like you couldn’t breathe in there, so you rushed out of the car and made a beeline for your front door as soon as you were able. He caught up as you worked the lock open, and you could feel his eyes on your shaking hands. “You know, you’re cute when you blush,” he said.
The door unlocked and you pushed it open, but it’s not like the apartment you shared with him was going to be any less charged. You tried to continue acting less nervous than you were. 
“Oh, you’re flirting with me now?” you teased, leaving your keys on the counter. His voice continued behind you.
“I flirt with everyone,” he said. “Sorry, I’ll reel it in. Just, we were talking about -”
“No, I know,” you interrupted. You turned around, deciding to face this situation head on, since you were already knee-deep in it anyway. “Okay, let’s talk about it.” He raised his eyebrows at you.
“About what I do?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Alright. What do you wanna know?”
You took a deep breath and asked something that you’d been wondering for the last two months.
“Is it weird, knowing that most people you know have seen you naked?” 
Eddie didn’t seem fazed by the question in the slightest - not that you expected him to be. He shrugged.
“I like the way I look,” he replied. “It actually doesn’t bother me at all.” You clicked your tongue to your teeth and asked another question.
“Does anything about it bother you?” To your surprise, he took the question seriously, taking his time as he came up with a response.
“It definitely feels like I live in a different world a lot of the time,” he answered. “Like, I go to work, I meet the person I’m supposed to fuck, and then I do whatever I gotta do to get them off. That’s all it is, really. After a while, it just feels like going through the motions. The excitement isn’t really there anymore. On the other hand, I make a shit ton of money to have sex with beautiful people, so…”
You tried to ignore the way the heat rose to your cheeks as he talked about work. From what you’d seen, it was clear that not one person had faked their enjoyment for him. Of course, it made you a little curious what it would be like, but not curious enough to do anything about it.
At least, not yet.
“You’ve never, like, caught feelings?” you asked. “Or maybe gotten coffee with one of them? Wait, do you ever have sex off camera?”
“Wooow, you’ve really been thinking about this, huh?” he teased, jumping up to sit on the counter beside you. Being next to him was starting to feel comfortable again, now that you were speaking freely. “Uhh, well for starters, I don’t have sex off-camera very often, honestly. My job doesn’t make it that easy to date. And yeah, I’ve met up with partners after if I feel like we’d get along, but I don’t know. It always feels more like friendship than anything else.” You cocked your head curiously.
“But you had sex with them,” you pointed out, confused.
“You’ve never fucked one of your friends before?” he asked. You shook your head. “Oh. Well, like I said, my perception of this kind of thing is a little skewed.”
You nodded slowly, then realized those were all of your main questions. Talking about it actually did make things a whole lot better. 
“Thank you for being so open about it,” you told him.
“Thank you for sticking around,” he replied. “And seriously, you can ask me anything. Or, we can never talk about it again. Up to you.”
“Thanks,” you said with a smile. “I’ll let you know.”
He went off to do his thing and you did yours, and that was that. Things went back to normal again, more or less - at least for another week. 
The problem was, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. When you were trying to sleep at night, your curiosity coursed through you to search his name again, and it became increasingly difficult not to succumb to it. You didn’t want to cross that line, though. It felt like a necessary boundary to have. 
Instead, you did what you usually did. You read, you listened, you pictured things in your head.
Your mind always wandered to your roommate anyway. 
One night, Eddie had left, and he was supposed to be gone until morning. You used it as an opportunity to walk around naked, watch romantic comedies on the couch, and listen to music he’d hate as loudly as you wanted. It was glorious. 
You were in your room dancing in a t-shirt and underwear, and it was turning out to be an excellent night. Eventually, your friend called, so you chatted with her for a bit on speaker phone as you put away your laundry. Naturally, Eddie came up. 
“Okay,” she said. “There’s a really simple solution here, and it’s to fuck your hot Sex-God of a roommate.” You rolled your eyes.
“That’s not simple, and it’s not a solution,” you replied. “And our relationship isn’t like that. I can’t believe you looked him up.”
“Of course I looked him up! One of us had to!” your friend shouted back. “And, can I just say - damn.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you responded with a sigh. “I’m just trying to be…respectful.”
“It sounds like he doesn’t care at all,” your friend noted. “But I get it, I guess. You’re a lot stronger than I’ll ever be.” You laughed.
“Thank you, I think I deserve a medal for going through this while also not having had sex in six months.”
“Absolutely,” your friend agreed. “Alright, girlie, I’m headed to bed. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
You hung up the phone and hung a few sweaters up in your closet, then walked into the kitchen to grab yourself a drink. The problem was, when you got there, you realized that Eddie had beat you to it.
“Want something?” he asked, bent over into the fridge.
“Fuck!” you yelled, jumping back. “What are you -? Why are you - ? When did you -?” Eddie laughed and grabbed two beers from the fridge, then closed the door and handed you one. 
“Relax,” he said. “My plans fell through so I came home early. I like your pants, by the way.” You looked down at yourself to realize you weren’t wearing any. You chuckled, then pushed him away from you.
“Dick,” you said, cracking the can open. He did the same, and then you clinked your beers together before each taking a sip. “Thank god I’m wearing some clothes. I wasn’t a few hours ago.” 
“That’s hot,” he teased. 
“Shut up.” You turned to go back to your room so you could put real pajamas on, and were confused when he followed you in. 
“Your friend has a point by the way,” Eddie said. You froze in your tracks, then pivoted to face him.
“What?” you asked, your stomach dropping to the floor. “Wait, how much of that conversation did you hear?”
“Uhhh, well I definitely heard that whole last part about me,” he replied. “Six months, by the way? I agree, you do deserve an award for that.” 
Jesus Christ.
“Oh my God I have to move out,” you said. Eddie laughed, then pulled you closer to him by the wrist. You felt your breath hitch at being so close to him. Your eyes met his, and you immediately felt hypnotized. 
“Listen,” he said, his grip on your wrist burning into your skin. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off, but six months is a long time, and I could help out if you wanted.”
“Eddie, are you seriously suggesting…?” The corner of his lip twitched up slightly.
“It wouldn’t mean anything, obviously. I just know you’re curious, and since you’re going through a dry spell or whatever I could be of service. And then it would be out of the way, and you could move on.”
You stared at him, having a million thoughts at once.
Yes, you wanted that very much. The thought of it alone was already making your core ache and throb for him. You knew he would blow your mind, and it had been so long…
Then again, you also knew it was a horrible idea. You both lived together, and having sex would complicate things. Most of all, you knew that - despite what he was saying - it would mean something, and you wouldn’t move on. He could, but you couldn’t. That’s not how it worked for you.
“I can’t,” you said. He nodded and dropped your hand.
“Alright,” he replied casually. “Then you should go fuck someone else so you stop thinking about me.”
“I’m not thinking about -”
“Good night,” he smirked.
He left your room, and you heard him walk to his own room and shut the door. 
He was probably right. You needed to break your dry spell. So, you did what any sensible person would do and re-downloaded Tinder. By the following night, you’d found a suitable guy to hook up with.
You invited him to your apartment instead of going to his, because it felt safer. And Eddie unshockingly had no problems with it, so that wasn’t an issue. He said he was going to stay in his room and listen to music, and to just text him when you were done. 
So…you did that. 
The sex was bad. Like, remarkably bad. The man clearly had relied on his good looks and big dick and felt like that was enough. The worst part was that he thought he was nailing it the whole time. He was only over for about 45 minutes total, after which you told him you had to get to bed. He seemed disappointed, but also he’d just had sex so he wasn’t too bummed about it. 
You texted Eddie, and within a few minutes you heard his door open and his footsteps approaching your room from down the hall. 
“Damn, he’s gone already?” he teased, staring out the window to see your Tinder hook-up driving away. “That’s a shame. I wanted to meet the man that caused you to do the worst fake orgasm sounds I’ve ever heard.” 
“Eddie!” you yelled, wrapping your robe tighter around yourself. “You said you wouldn’t listen!” 
“I got curious! Sue me!” he shouted back. “Now we’re even. Curiosity got the best of both of us.”
You stared at him for a moment, then realized he was right. You sighed.
“Fine,” you said. “Thanks for recommending I do that, by the way. Now my body count is higher and my dignity is shattered.” Eddie laughed.
“Body counts are bullshit anyway,” he replied. “Sorry he couldn’t get you there.”
“Guys usually can’t,” you told him. Which was true - you mainly could only come using toys, and most guys seemed intimidated at the idea of using them. Like it was emasculating or something.
“I bet I could,” Eddie said with a smirk.
“I bet you could, too,” you agreed. “I’m gonna go shower.”
“Have fun,” he teased. You rolled your eyes and made your way to the bathroom. 
Showering did clear your mind a bit, but made you no less sexually frustrated. You tried to touch yourself, but weren’t getting anywhere, so you just got yourself clean instead. You put a fresh pair of underwear on and wrapped your robe around yourself, then headed back to your room. 
Eddie was right beside your door - leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He eyed you up and down, then took a step towards you.
“I have a question,” he said. 
“Um, okay.”
“Have you ever gotten off to my videos?” 
He asked it so casually, you needed a minute to even comprehend what he was saying, and even longer to realize he wasn’t kidding.
“Eddie, what the hell?” you replied. You tried to maintain your composure, but your attempts were futile. Especially when he looked at you like that. 
“I’ve just been wondering,” he continued. “Curiosity, that’s all.” You swallowed. 
“Not to any of your videos,” you answered. 
“To the thought of me?”
Yes. Not intentionally, but yes.
Your breathing became shaky, his words enough to get you worked up again.
“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice soft. 
“I’m helping you out,” he responded. “Salvaging your night.” He hooked his finger into the tie around your waist, then tugged you even closer to him. “I mean, if you want me to. The offer is there.”
Fuck it. You were tired of fighting your attraction to him. You nodded. 
“Okay,” you said. “Let’s just get it over with.” He smiled. “How do we start? Should I lie down? Is there anything off limits? What do I-”
“Don’t think about it,” he said, answering your line of questioning by silencing you. “Get on the bed.” He let go of you so you could walk into your room and follow his orders. You watched him rub his hands together and crack his knuckles as if he was getting ready to go to work - which made sense, all things considered. Then, he followed your footsteps to your bed and made his way towards you until he was settled beside you.
His hand trailed up your body until it settled in your hair. He gripped it tightly so he could angle your head to the side, then leaned over and pressed light kisses to your neck that sent shivers down your spine. 
“Do you like things on the gentle side or more rough?” he asked against your skin. 
“Healthy mix of both,” you answered. He hummed in approval, then licked a stripe up your neck until his lips were to your ear. 
“Talk to me during, okay?” he said. “Tell me what you want.”
Okay, this was officially worth it no matter the consequences.
“I like what you’re doing,” you responded. You felt his mouth return to where it had been before, except this time he found a sensitive spot and sucked on it. You gasped, so he did it again, harder. 
“Hickies?” he asked. 
“I’d rather not have them, but also please don’t stop,” you muttered. Your eyes fluttered closed as you enjoyed the sensations. His lips were soft but firm, and every point of contact with him felt like it was on fire.
“I can work with that.” 
While he continued kissing and nipping at your neck, his hand left your hair to snake down and pull the tie on your robe until it was undone. 
You expected him to take your robe off like he was unwrapping a gift - quickly and without precision - but instead he took his time with you. He was slow and deliberate with every action, opening you beneath him little by little and addressing each new exposed part of you before moving on and continuing. He groped at one of your breasts while kissing you, then kissed down your neck and to your other breast. His lips settled on your left nipple while his fingers worked the right one - pinching, sucking, biting, driving you absolutely crazy. 
“Fuck,” you moaned. “N-need more.” He released your nipple from his mouth with a pop.
“More what?”
“Everything,” you whined. You would have been embarrassed by how into this you were, but you were too busy enjoying to feel anything other than pleasure. “More. Harder.”
“Mmm,” he said. He adjusted his technique, now grasping at you more intensely. He grabbed the soft skin at your waist and squeezed, then curled around to cradle your lower back. His lips returned to your neck, and this time he bit and sucked so hard you let out a yelp.
“Too much?” he asked, leaning back to gauge the look on your face.
“No,” you responded. “I love it.” He nodded and got back to it, continuing to suck at your pulse point while his knee dipped between your thighs to push them apart. He bent his leg to slowly drag his knee up until it reached your center. It rubbed against you, hard, causing you to let out a gasp.
“Oh, shit,” you said, your voice desperate. “Do that again.” So he did, and then you found yourself grinding against his knee at your own pace. You were definitely going to leave a wet spot on his jeans, but he didn’t seem to care. Your breathing picked up, and you clutched at his hand so you could lead it to the band of your panties. He slid his fingers beneath the fabric and down your slit, spreading you open and exploring the parts of you most slick with desire. He circled your clit while he kissed your collarbone, slipped one finger inside you as he bit at your breast, then added a second finger and rolled them inside you until they found the soft, spongy spot that caused your eyes to roll back in your head. His mouth latched onto your nipple, tongue circling it in time with his thumb down below. You rocked your hips against his hand, needing more pressure. You needed him to fuck you, actually, but he seemed to be in no rush of doing so. 
Your stomach tightened as you felt yourself rising for him. He was going to make you come already, when he hadn’t even been touching you for that long. 
Suddenly, you were cresting over the edge. It happened so fast you didn’t have time to prepare or warn Eddie, although he seemed to know it was happening before you did. 
You gasped and moaned and cried out his name, your vision completely blacked out. Your hips continued to buck and your legs started shaking. Eventually, the waves crashed and you were centered in your body again. 
“Okay, wow,” you said breathlessly. 
“That was too easy,” he responded. You scoffed. 
“Yeah, yeah, you win,” you replied. “You’re just as amazing in bed as you look like you would be-”
“No,” he continued. “I mean - that was too easy, and I like a challenge, so I’m gonna see how many times I can make you do that.”
Within seconds, he was making his way down your body, pulling your underwear off of you, grabbing your ankles, and tugging your body towards him. He laid your legs on either side of his shoulders and dove his head between your thighs, kissing the spot that was still extremely sensitive. It was overstimulating, but felt so good you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop. He ate you out like he was poisoned and you were the antidote. He plunged his tongue into your hole as his hands spread you apart as far as you’d go. He kissed back up to your clit and settled there, teeth latching around it gently. Then, his fingers slid back inside you, and he continued to suck on you, and somehow you were already going to come again. One of your hands found purchase in his hair, and you pulled his head against you even more. The other hand clutched the sheets beside you desperately, crumpling them into a fist as you unraveled against his mouth. 
You hadn’t even realized how tightly your thighs were clenching around his head until you released him, but he didn’t move from where he’d been. He continued finger-fucking you and flicking his tongue side to side against your clit all the way through your orgasm and beyond. There was no recovery period or moment of relaxation. It hurt to have him there, a little bit, but not in a bad way. He bit at the fleshy part of your thigh so he had a second to catch his breath, but kept kissing you everywhere he had access and treating your body like it was his most precious belonging. 
Because in that moment, you did belong to him. 
Your third orgasm immediately followed the second. It was like he was destroying you - breaking down every wall you’d ever put up leaving you an absolute mess underneath him. His motions slowed, ever in tune with your body. It was like he could read your mind. 
“Holy shit,” you whispered. He sat up straight and removed his fingers from you, immediately putting them in his mouth to suck them clean. “You’re really good at that.” He grinned, his mouth and chin shining. 
“It’s my favorite part,” he replied. “Are you tapping out?”
“No, I -” Your head was spinning, but you absolutely did not want this to stop. “I just need a minute.” He chuckled, wiped his mouth, then pressed a quick kiss to your ankle. He moved your legs off him and back onto the bed, and then he laid down beside you and joined you in staring at the ceiling. 
“So,” he said, his hands clasped on his stomach. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” you replied. Your gaze traveled down his stomach to the very noticeable bulge in his jeans. “So, oral really does it for you, huh?” Eddie turned to see your eyes fixed on his crotch. He exhaled sharply - the start of a laugh - then nodded. 
“Yeah. I’m good at it and I like it. But, I don’t know whether I’m good at it because I like it or if I like it because I’m good at it.”
“A real chicken versus egg kind of thing,” you said. He laughed. 
“Exactly.” 
“What else do you like?” you asked. 
“Hmm?” He seemed genuinely confused by the question.
“I mean, what else do you like? Not considering your partner’s pleasure, just your own.” He narrowed his eyes.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because we’re about to have sex,” you replied.
“Are we?” he teased. You rolled your eyes.
“Answer me,” you told him. “I want it to be good for you, too.”
“But that wasn’t the deal,” he countered, sitting up. “I’m doing this for you, not me.”
“Why can’t it be both?” He still looked at you as if you weren’t making any sense at all. “Eddie, come on. Just tell me what you like. You’ve never been shy about sex stuff in the past, clearly -”
“I like being bit,” he answered quickly. “Especially on the neck and lips. And, like, the crook of my elbow for some reason?” You nodded, urging him to continue. He sighed, then laid back down beside you. “I like the idea of someone using me just to get off - degradation, treating me like I’m nothing, all that jazz.”
“The idea of it?” you repeated, turning on your side to face him. “You’ve never tried it?”
“Not really,” he responded. “I’m kinda known for the soft-dom thing I have going on, so that’s usually what I end up doing.” 
“Hmm.” You thought about his answer in the silence that followed, until he spoke again.
“You know what’s weird?”
“What?”
“Nobody’s really asked me that before.”
You looked at him, completely baffled at the situation. This poor man had only focused on his partners this whole time. No wonder he’d grown jaded to it.
“It’s been a minute,” you said. “I think I’m ready to keep going.”
“Yeah, okay.”
You could visibly see him shift back into work-mode. His eyes lit up and focused in on you again, and his hands went to his belt buckle to unfasten it. You sat up and kneeled on the bed, then helped him take his pants and boxers off and tossed them to the floor. You shimmied your robe off your shoulders and let that fall to the floor as well. He sat up in the bed with his back to the headboard so he could take his shirt off, and now you were both completely naked.
Woah.
You stared at his body, mesmerized by all the ink in his skin. You traced a finger delicately over the tattoos on his chest, shoulders, and forearms. He watched you appreciatively, a soft smile on his face, his expression peaceful. You reached over to your bedside table drawer and grabbed a condom from the box you kept there.
Then, you straddled him. 
“Hey, wait -” he said. “Look, I know what you wanna do for me, but it’s probably not gonna happen. Like, I don’t usually come from sex unless I help myself out.”
You kind of saw that in one of the videos. He’d been going with this one woman for like a half hour straight and nothing.
“I want to try,” you told him. He still didn’t look convinced. “Come on, you think only porn stars are good in bed?”
“I just don’t want you to feel bad if -”
You leaned in and kissed him, hungrily, your hands tangling in his hair. Yeah, he’d taken care of you, but you were far from satiated. You wanted him badly, and you wanted to make him feel just as good as he’d made you feel.
You could still taste yourself on his swollen lips, and that’s when you realized the two of you had never actually kissed before. You broke from him, concerned that you’d crossed a line.
“Sorry, I should have asked if kissing is okay first -”
He was kissing you again before you could even get your sentence out. His arms went around your waist, hugging you tightly until your chest was against his. You tugged on his hair, hard, and felt him smirk against your lips. 
He was growing impossibly hard beneath you, which only encouraged you to keep going.
You clawed against his back and his mouth opened up for you. You used this as an opportunity to suck his bottom lip into your mouth before biting it. 
He whimpered, which was just about the hottest sound you’d ever heard.
Your mouth traveled down his jaw and to his neck, where you gave him the same treatment he’d given you.
“Careful,” he managed to say (though his voice was weak). “I can’t be marked up for work.” You nodded, then grazed your teeth across his skin. He gasped, the grip of his hands tightening on your waist. You kissed him and bit him and sucked him on both sides of his neck, leaving no spot behind and making sure you didn’t stay in one place for too long. Eventually, you felt yourself craving him again - this time, you wanted all of him. 
Your hips rocked against his erection, and you knew it was game over the moment his bare cock slid up your folds. You moaned, then reached for the condom beside you so he could put it on. You shifted yourself a bit further down on his lap as he rolled it down his length, and then your eyes caught the tattoo on his thigh that started this whole thing - the witch, in all her glory.
“She’s looking right at it,” you said, your eyes fixed to the design. Eddie huffed out a breathy laugh. 
“Yeah, uhh -” he began, flustered. “It’s her - shit, okay - it’s supposed to be a joke where she’s looking at my dick because my dick is a magic wand, but that’s dorky as shit so usually when people ask I just joke that it’s because she’s a voyeur.” You smiled, then shook your head. 
“So, why tell me the truth then?” you asked. “What makes me different?” You looked at his blown out pupils, deep brown and infinite, and wondered why you’d spent so much time trying not to look into them. Maybe because now that you’d done it, you weren’t sure you could ever stop.
“I don’t know,” Eddie answered. “I don’t know why you’re different.” 
You maintained eye contact as you lifted yourself up and lined his cock with your entrance, and then you slowly let him sink into you. 
Oh.
The immediate stretch was incredible. Eddie was well-endowed and thick, and it was going to take a little work to fit him completely inside you. You started slowly, lifting yourself up and down - all the while, your eyes stayed fixed to his. 
His hand snaked between you to rub your clit slowly, getting you wetter and allowing you to accommodate his size better. You moaned loudly, unable to stop yourself, then began bouncing at a faster pace. 
You kissed his forehead, the sweat on his brow leaving your lips slightly salty. Then, you kissed the spot right next to his eyes, his cheek, his jaw, before finally reaching his lips again. 
Hungry. That was the best word to describe it. It felt like the two of you had each never wanted anything more in your lives as much as you wanted each other. He bottomed out inside you, and you began to lift yourself up and crash back down, slowly, but with force. 
“Faster,” he muttered. “Please, faster.” His voice was breathy and weak. A part of you wanted to tease him more - you wanted to drive him crazy and then watch him explode, just as he’d done to you. But the other part of you wanted exactly what he wanted, so you obliged. 
You started to ride him faster, rolling your hips in such a way where he was hitting the spot inside you that made you scream his name and pull his hair without abandon. He continued to work your clit until - somehow - you felt yourself building up to yet another orgasm. 
“Fuck,” you whined, continuing to fuck him exactly as you’d been doing. “I’m gonna come again.”
He whimpered your name, and then his words became incomprehensible. But you wouldn’t have been able to hear them anyway, because pretty soon you were coming so hard you were transported through space and time. Seriously, the feeling was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. He was taking up all the space in your body and your mind. 
“You’re so good, Eddie,” you said. Your words were muffled against his mouth, but you knew he understood them. “So fucking good.”
Your motions slowed down, and you started to make your way back to the room. He was staring at you, his eyes no longer piercing. They were soft and vulnerable instead.
“I’m sorry I didn’t -”
“That one was for me,” you interrupted. “This next one's for you.”
“What-?”
Your lips crashed into his again. You’d gotten your fill - more than your fill, actually - and now you just had one goal. 
Make Eddie Munson come. 
Easy enough, you figured. He’d given you more than enough clues to tell you how. With his dick still deep inside you, you kissed down his neck to his shoulder, then lifted his arm so you could make your way to the crook of his elbow. You sucked at the tender, sensitive skin. His eyes widened.
“Oh, fuck,” he said. You smirked, then dropped his arm and promptly fucked him as fast and rough as you possibly could. 
Eddie threw his head back in ecstasy, groaning and grunting and continuing to talk under his breath - only this time you were able to understand some of it. 
“Holy fucking shit…Jesus Christ…Just like that…”
Most of it was curse words. 
His fingers dug into your ass as he guided your hips exactly the way he needed them to go, and then all of a sudden he was twitching beneath you, his hands flexing, his jaw dropped. He desperately pressed open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone and breasts, holding you flush to him as you milked him for all he was worth. 
His breathing slowed, his face still buried in your tits. Finally, he leaned back so he could look up at you. You smiled and waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. He just kissed you instead - this time lightly and without urgency behind it. 
You let him slip out of you, then collapsed beside him, completely blissed out. He stayed seated and upright, although he did take the condom off and dropped it in the trash next to the bed. His eyes had turned pensive, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.
“Everything okay?” you asked. 
“No,” he replied, staring straight ahead.
“What’s wrong?” He shrugged. 
“I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I felt like that.” You cocked your head in confusion.
“And that’s a problem?” you wondered. You maybe would have freaked out had you not just had four orgasms - Instead, you were just concerned.
“I don’t know.”
His head turned until you could see his expression fully, and you noticed there was a hint of a smile on his face. 
“Um, is there anything I can do to help?” you asked. 
“Yeah.” He grabbed your hand and took a deep breath. “You wanna go on a date with me?”
(Part 2)
-------------------
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mr-walkingrainbow · 7 months
Text
CALLING ALL MONSTER HIGH FANS. I JUST MET GARRETT. AND I WAS ABLE TO SCAVENGE SO MUCH LORE AND CONFIRMED HEADCANONS TO YOU. THIS IS ALL SAID BY GARRET OR CONFIRMED. I HAVE SPOKEN TO GOD AND HE HAS SPOKEN BACK
#1. Robecca and Venus were implied and ARE dating!!! He said it was like. Just like other monsters they had tried putting hints and characteristics into monsters that we could see and relate too. (He also said it outright down here. Lol I got all the proof guys!)
2. They never actually came up with Jane Boolittles Origins. And yes Dr. Morou and Dr. Boolittle raised her. But it was always a thing to them they'd say ‘oh well get back to this’. And then they never did. When asked; he genuinely doesn’t remember what they had planned for her.
3. a REALLY big mystery solved and lore dump guys. This one’s juicy. I KNOW HOW SPECTRA DIED. I KNOW HOW SHE DIED. AND WHAT THE TRAUMATIC STORY WAS FOR HER. I ACTUALLY FUCKING KNOW! Y’all ready? Drumroll…. It was, a, CAR CRASH! Yes you heard me. THE VONDERGEIST FAMILY ALL DIED IN A CAR CRASH. I think he said he she just came with her family off skirts and they got into an accident. I’ll reblog this with the video of him saying it!
4. Toralei lives in a monster high housing/boarding building when she is not attending school. This place is used for kids who do not have a place to go too, or if their home is too far to return to easily. I think there was an error somewhere where she mentioned parents? I mentioned that to him and he was very confused/didn’t remember. Reconfirmed that if she wasn’t in the monster high housing area. She would have been in either Jail or The streets.
5. Robecca was not rebuilt for 100 years due to Misogyny. Also because it had to go into the lines of her ‘mysteriously’ disappearing for her to have her comeback. I asked about how it was low key such a dark story, and he mentioned that since technically Monster high was the ‘horror’ genre. He was able to get away with things like that.
6. the Vampire Heart mystery! So remember how in Friday night frights we all see Ghoulia place a Robot Heart into Robeccas chest. Something that is very clearly not the Vampires heart? But then suddenly in Frights camera action it’s there? Well, technically that’s an official Error by the crew. He actually said he noticed it, and told management and stuff like ‘won’t people notice it?’ And they were all like ‘nah it will be fine no one will notice’. But then we all clearly did lol. He also said that because if this, he came up with the idea that the Vampires heart was ENCASED in the Robot heart we saw in Friday night frights. Ergo, explaining how Robecca had two hearts in one body! (It’s also confirmed Hexiciah placed the Vampires heart into her while he was building her. Which would explain why she didn’t remember it was their).
#7. Gooliope Jellingtons Origins. I asked what her origins were. And basically, she DOES NOT have any parents. She was CREATED IN A LAB. Which apparently didn’t treat her right. So she ESCAPED the lab and ran away to the circus! (Or blobbed away?) because he also confirmed, she was the blob. Or based off the blob. She wasn’t actually like. The daughter of the blob. She WAS the blob itself.
#8. Kiyomi Haunterly is Gay! I know this is was already somewhat canon and said before. But I asked and he confirmed it that she was in fact, Gay. And he tried to show it in her diary.
#9. We’re reaching some only implied/supported things. Not fully confirmed or intended. But Kala Mer’ri has BPD. I asked about if she has anything like BPD cause I relate and saw that a lot in her. He replied that he did try to make attributes for each Character specifically so we could related to them like that. And that it was to also make sure every character wasn’t a carbon copy of another. Basically. He didn’t like. Outright say ‘yes. She has bpd’. But he also didn’t disprove it. And he reacted positively to the idea and supported it.
#10. Robecca Steam has ADHD. It’s basically the same as above. Although he did like the note that I (someone with adhd) specifically had the same traits with Robecca, even more specifically, that we both are ALWAYS late. And can never keep track of time to save our unlife.
11. Dedyet DeNile Origins. He actually completely forgot about Cleo’s Mother eventually being reunited. I had asked how she had ended up in that same weird time loop Tomb thag Hexiciah was stuck in. (Which they were eventually freed by Robecca in her SDCC diary). He said he completely forgot about that. And genuinely didn’t remember anything about it. I basically re-explained the whole thing and he was very interested. Unfortunately. Not to much origins to go on.
11. here’s a canon one! What happened to Aamanita Nightshade after she left the DeNiles in the tomb. It was kinda funny, but he basically was like ‘Amanita went up and was just like ‘Peace!’’ And then never came back.’ She goofed around a bit, buuut it wasn’t entirely like her fault? She quickly went back to sleep after breaching the surface. So yeah. She was not awake for long. She quickly went back into flower mode until she woke up again at the Gloom and Bloom party.
12. He’s working on another one of his Monster prints! He sells them on his online shop here
He’s currently working on Toralei!!!!! He said he was working on her on the way over. And that he was trying to go in Order of the G1 doll releases. He mentioned he had only done Skelita out of Order because she was like ‘that one’ who was INSANELY popular with fans when she came out. Especially in Mexico. It’s also why she was the only Funko pop made who was not part of the main ghouls.
13. Random. But he actually didn’t create each backstory individually by himself. In the beginning he did A LOT. Like Frankie was the first backstory he ever created. And it got more help and divided as more and more characters were introduced.
14. he has read every single diary for every monster. Cool little fact cause DAMN theirs a whole bunch of them.
15. everything in the Ghoulfriends book series is CANON in the monster verse.
And that is ALL FOLKS! I had held those questions in for about 7-8 years. So it was everything to me to have them answered and confirmed! I really tried to ask everything that was a huge mystery to us monster folks. And I hope you guys are excited to see all these new CANON facts!!!
I’m sorry if this is not everything. Just like Robecca. I forget stuff pretty easily. I’m wracking my brain for every little detail. Unfortunately my father didn’t record as much as I would have liked. But he did get some perfect key moments! And I’ll make sure to reblog with those moments as proof of confirmation!
I love y’all! Make sure this goes viral so every monster high fan gets to hear the news!
Signing out, I’m Tumblr Spectra Vondergeist, and I report the news.
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