GP!Natasha Romanoff x Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Requested by anon: just an idea for a request: pegging GP natasha
Natasha's the first one to make the suggestion, and you think it's adorable how shy she is asking if you can take her on her knees. She’s curious what it would be like, and you’re excited to try it with her.
After buying an appropriately sized toy (you don’t want to start too big) and plenty of lube, you have Natasha propped up on all fours on the bed. You massage her thighs and butt as you tentatively move your hips forward to poke the toy against her hole.
You wait for her consent to push forward until just the head of the toy enters her. Natasha tenses, and your hand moves from her hip to her cock, stroking her gently until she relaxes again. You sink into her another inch, and she whines at the stretch, so you pause.
“More,” she says, and you keep going.
You swear her cock gets harder in your hand as you fill her ass. Natasha moans when your hips touch her butt, and you wait a few seconds for her to adjust before you start moving in short, jerky thrusts. You’re unfamiliar with this motion and you want to make sure you’re not hurting her, but based on the noises she’s making, you’re doing a good job.
“Y/N, Y/N,” she whimpers, her hips moving back and forth, alternating between the pleasure radiating from her cock and her ass.
“Almost there, baby?” you ask, noticing how limp she goes when your strap bumps against the sensitive spot inside of her.
“Yes,” she pants, dropping her head as she allows you to take control of her body and bring her to the most amazing orgasm she’s ever experienced. Your hips move faster, filling her to the brim, as your hand strokes her straining cock.
She cums without warning, spraying her own stomach and chest with her seed. Her back arches as you slam into her one final time, staying in place until her cum drips off your own hand.
“That felt so good,” Natasha admits when she has enough air to speak again. “Although next time, I’d love it if you filled me with cum...”
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childhood friend yandere
❥oh god, they have a shrine dedicated to you and only you! After all you are his bestie and they have the right to have your beautiful pictures dedicated!
❥it really depends from yandere to yandere because some would literally show off the shrine they have made while some would have a box or similar to a carton where you pictures are stashed.
❥the advantage they have is that they have been your friend for a long period of time, meaning they can get away with literally anything. after all they are just like you sibling~ (even though they hate to be called that-they are not your sibling! both of you belong together-)
❥ and of course if someone calls him insane or psycho you don't believe it! you don't because they are your childhood friend, what can they ever do wrong?
❥did I mention that they will take literally anything of yours? it can be hairclip, perfume, bed sheet literally anything-
❥they would totally drug you, no one would suspect it after all, them drugging you (except you probably, after the side effects of it)
❥ they know all about you, from your likes to dislikes and what not. They know all the details and are ready to use that against you.
❥ some do have the patience that one day you will accept them and then there will be nothing but both of you!
❥ while some actually start killing because they were merely with their beloved! and then comfort you while you cry on their shoulder you don't realize it was them who killed your partner.
"Don't. Don't say you love me." tears prick the the corner of her eyes as she speaks.
"But it's true, I do. I love you." Aegon looms above her, hips pressed to hers with his hands holding her wrists above her head.
"Stop. When you say that it makes my heart hurt, I can't have you. Not truly. So don't say you love me, I will only come back like a stray." the hot tears spill down her cheeks as a sob racks through her chest.
Aegon presses his body down further, burying his head into her neck. Small kisses are placed across the delicate skin. His hands come up to wipe the tears from her cheeks, she tries to turn her face away. His grip is firm, and irritation bubbles in his chest. Aegon's words are harsh as he whispers.
"You will love me, because I love you. My stray cat, I will always feed you, shelter you, and love you. No matter how many times you leave."
My "Morty Deserves More Relevance" rant:
My main criticism of S6 of “Rick and Morty” so far is that Morty hasn’t had nearly enough relevance to the season on any front for one of the two main protagonists.
I could probably excuse this if the show had been rather Rick-focused for the majority of its run, but the show has been about BOTH of these characters since the get-go.
I’m not someone that generally tries to hide my Morty bias. I relate to Morty in a lot of ways, and I don’t think that’s uncommon.
I think that the writers currently have more of a Rick bias (or, at least, find it more important to tell his story or show things more in terms of how they effect him).
I want to preface this by saying that I DO believe that Rick has a right to heal, grow, and get better. I guess I’m just saying that it’s not on us to forgive him.
I think that the writers kind of needed to put Morty to the side for a bit– to have him pushed into the background in favor of Rick– because it’s really difficult to begin to empathize with/feel bad for an abuser when the impact of their behavior on their victim is staring you right in the face.
(I rewatched the series to make this post, and GOD is some of Rick's behavior downright sickening and inexcusable in seasons 1-4...)
I don’t think that anyone else can forgive Rick for what he’s done to Morty. Only Morty can do that.
Again, I’m not saying that Rick doesn’t deserve the right to heal, but I don’t think that he should get to dictate the pace of the healing in their dynamic. I think this is why I have a hard time feeling bad for Rick in terms of Morty developing agency.
Rick most definitely deserves sympathy and support for what happened to him before he came into Morty’s life, but I have to say that I find Morty’s story a lot more tragic than Rick’s. Morty’s story is one about child abuse– about becoming a victim and having your identity swallowed alive as it’s dictated by the actions of an abuser.
Take the events of “Forgetting Sarick Mortshall,” for example. I think this is one of the episodes that really puts into perspective the extent of Morty’s trauma bond with Rick, and how that can manifest in a victim. When you’re a victim of an abuser, one of the only avenues of control you have is deciding whether to stay in the situation or leave. That is literally all Morty has. He tries to put his foot down only for Rick to “cold shoulder” him, which is ultimately just another manipulation tactic. He wanted Morty to be afraid of losing the only real connection he has left. That’s how narcissistic abuse works: they isolate you from every other reliable relationship in your life so that you are entirely dependent upon their approval. When Rick drops the bombshell at the end of the episode that he’s going to be leaving with the crows, that literally strips Morty of any control he had at all. Morty is left with absolutely NO choice anymore- not even to cooperate with Rick or not.
When something like that happens to a victim– when an abuser decides that they are the one who gets to dictate healing and growth– it’s technically within their rights to leave, grow, and heal, but it strips the victim of the only sense of autonomy that was left intact for them. It’s like one last vengeful powerplay, and we can see that play out in Morty’s decisions thereafter.
We see him desperately grasp for any control of the situation back, because he (the VICTIM) wasn’t ready for this to happen, yet.
I’m not saying that Morty isn’t a flawed character, but I think that a lot of people tend to forget about the fact that he is a CHILD, who wouldn’t otherwise be involved in the morally gray situations he’s in if he hadn’t been consistently neglected, used, and abused.
Every fucked up thing that Morty has done has been as a child who, truthfully, doesn’t know better because of the way his worldview has been consistently skewed. He’s put in these situations time and time again that force him to stray from his own moral compass. Rick even goes out of his way (like in “The Vat of Acid Episode”) to intentionally manipulate Morty into thinking that anything he wants to do that would stray from what Rick thinks is best will only result in more harm to other people.
There are other episodes that enforce this kind of philosophy (straying from Rick’s corrupt set of rules and regulations must be the only way to prevent death and destruction– even though that often means actively choosing death and destruction at face value), such as “Mortynight Run,” “Auto Erotic Assimilation,” etc.
Rick, on the other hand, is the adult in the situation. Everything fucked up Rick has done throughout the course of the show was done as an adult, who most definitely DID know better.
The core of this show is literally a “hardened adult meets naive child” trope, and I think that a lot of people have lost sight of the reason that Rick’s healing should feel so satisfying in the long run. The whole point of rooting for Rick’s healing in the first place is set up to be about giving Morty the grandpa he deserves. Morty basically has no one in his corner other than Rick, and Rick is riddled with an inky sickness that bleeds and infects Morty with every movement of his character that is too quick or abrasive. It’s important to give Morty the chance to view the world as an actual child might while he still has a bit of that innocence left inside of him– in the same way it’s important to give Rick the opportunity to foster that innocence instead of crush it for once.
I think that a lot of people (writers included) have started to view Rick’s “Crybaby Backstory” as an excuse for his shitty behavior over the first 5 seasons, when there really aren’t any valid excuses for what he’s put Morty through. There are only reasons that he did what he did, not excuses. Viewing these reasons as excuses for child abuse means that some people inevitably view the situation as not requiring communication, confessions, and apologies in order to right Rick’s wrongs with Morty– but those things are NEEDED in order for this to feel EARNED. Changing and growing without acknowledging the effort and will to change with the needs, wants, and feelings of the victim taken into account isn’t really conducive to change or growth in ANY character.
99.9% of abusers exist within a cycle of trauma, and this plays a huge reason in why I have such a difficult time letting Rick’s trauma serve as a satisfying excuse for his actions towards Morty.
I feel like a lot of the same people who allow Rick’s past to serve as an excuse are the same people who tend to hold Morty 100% accountable, but I would go out on the line to say that Morty’s actions are almost always more excusable than Rick’s. While being an adult who was traumatized but knew better isn’t a reasonable excuse, it IS a reasonable excuse to be a traumatized child who doesn’t know any better.
A good example of this would be in “Solaricks” when Cronenberg Jerry calls Morty out for leaving them and talking about them like they weren’t people. It’s pretty obvious that the audience is supposed to agree with Jerry here, but it falls flat for me. Nothing about that situation was actually Morty’s fault, ESPECIALLY the initial leaving of the Prime Dimension in “Rick Potion No. 9.” Rick was the adult in that situation, and Morty couldn’t have known better if he’d wanted to.
Morty is an insert character for anyone who has ever been abused/manipulated as a child, and I think that it’s not only a disservice to Morty, but also all of those people who connected with his journey, to essentially erase any relevance his feelings had to the plot of the show. I think that completely setting his relevance to the show aside was a real mishandle of his character by the writers. I understand that it would have made an exploration of Rick’s character progression feel less linear and clean cut, but I can’t say that I wouldn’t want to see Morty gain some agency in his relationship with Rick. I genuinely don’t care that Morty’s character progression has pushed him to be less compliant and more stand-offish with Rick, even if Rick is actively changing. Morty deserves to be angry. That would have felt earned– and it would have made Rick’s development towards being a more soft/docile familial figure and someone who cares about doing the right/noble thing a lot more earned, too.
Sometimes, growth is hard. Getting better is hard. It’s so challenging to move on from being an abuser because it’s one of the most difficult things in the world to look at the carnage you’ve left in your wake and actively pick up the pieces of the people you’ve broken. It sucks to have to face your actions and realize that no one is obligated to forgive you, and that you don’t get to spend an indefinite amount of time being an abuser and then expect to dictate when people feel bad for you. That’s ultimately what’s fair, though, because you aren’t the victim.
It’s unfair for Morty to not get to share his opinion on the matter all that much when the audience’s opinion of Rick shifts to something more positive and soft. We should at least get to see some of how this has effected Morty in the present.
Morty deserves his own “Morty goes to therapy” episode. Morty deserves his own solo scenes where he lumbers off to his room and breaks down. Morty deserves to be sad and broken and irreparably damaged in the eyes of the audience as much as Rick does.
I love Rick– I really, really do– but I think that part of loving Rick is rooting for his relationship with Morty to get better, too– and the reality of how all of this is effecting Morty as an equal has been a bit lost this season.
I hope that we get a more Morty-centric season next season, or at least a good handful of Morty-centric episodes that push Rick to the background in favor of Morty’s perspective to balance everything out.
pairing: Din Djarin x reader
warnings: fluff, allusions to spice
a/n: slightly grumpy Din who is also a sucker
While Din had been hunting his last bounty, you and Grogu had gone into the nearby village (you were allowed to because it was in the opposite direction the bounty had gone). As was usual, you went to the market to buy food and other staples that you liked to stock up on just in case you weren’t going to be on planet for a while.
The baby always stuck close by you and he was generally more well-behaved for you than he was with his dad. You were never sure whether it was because he felt less safe with you than his heavily armored and weaponed dad or if he thought you needed him for protection. Either way you weren’t complaining.
Today, as you were buying things, the vendors kept mentioning a light festival in the town, asking if the two of you were planning on going. Not knowing the area, you tried to subtly get information from different sellers (probably overly cautious, but Din had influenced you).
Apparently, there was a large garden at the edge of the village that was decorated in thousands of lights and there would be food vendors and live music. Grogu listened just as much as you did, and while you weren’t sure if he knew what the lights would look like, he was very interested at the prospect of food. And you knew that he would love the lights when he did see them.
The festival was going on for a couple nights so you would suggest it to Din when he got back to the ship. You knew better than to try and go just you and the baby, never being allowed to leave the ship without Din at night. Sure that between you and Grogu he would be convinced, the two of you grabbed some lunch before heading back to the ship.
That night, Din didn’t return until Grogu was asleep and you were getting ready for bed yourself. You were in the fresher but you could hear him take the bounty to the carbonite freezer and then he knocked on the door to give you the all clear. Once you were dried off and dressed, you went out and found him in the cockpit, clearly having just finished eating, but with his helmet back on.
You smiled at him and he held out a hand for you, helping you to sit sideways on his lap. The two of you were committed to be wed, and some days it felt like you couldn’t wait to be able to kiss him, see his face. The thought of getting to do it soon distracted you for a moment, but when he tilted his head in a clear mark of curiosity, you remembered what you were going to say.
Grabbing his hand in both of yours, you started playing with his fingers absent-mindedly as you started talking, “So Grogu and I heard about something that sounded like fun today.”
Din nodded and hummed for you to continue, though you also felt him shifting just a bit underneath you.
“The town is having a light festival this week with food and music and lights, of course, and I thought the baby would love it.”
“Just the kid?”
You smiled sheepishly, “Well, I would love it too. What do you say, can we go?”
He hummed in thought, which you thought was just to make you sweat. “Will I love it?”
You laughed and said, “I’m sure there will be things there you like. And if there isn’t, I’ll make it up to you.”
Din’s hands tightened on you and he said, “I think I need an example of that right now.”
Smiling suggestively, you readjusted to straddle him instead and said, “You can consider it a thank you.”
The next evening, the three of you set out for the festival, and just as you predicted you all loved it. Even underneath his helmet, you could tell that Din was enjoying himself. He made a lot of comments about how everything was constructed and pointed out the particularly elaborate displays to the baby, all while sticking very close to you. The two of you didn’t like to display affection in public (mainly because Din didn’t want anyone to target you because of him), but he did guide you sometimes with a hand on the small of your back or the light touch of his fingertips on your elbow.
You and Grogu got your fill of yummy food and drinks as you walked, and you made sure to pack some away in your bag for Din to have later. By the end of the night, Din had to carry Grogu back to the ship, all tuckered out from the food and excitement.
While you put Grogu to bed, Din ate, and again you found him in the cockpit and again, you sat sideways on his lap.
“So what did you think?”
After several seconds, Din just shrugged and hummed noncommittally.
For a second, you questioned yourself, wondering if he actually hadn’t enjoyed himself, but then you felt his hands sliding up your thighs and you realized what he was thinking.
“Oh no, Din,” you said, exaggerating your worry. “You didn’t like it?”
Again, Din just shrugged, apparently incapable of outright lying to you.
“Poor honey, had to spend all that time walking around with us,” you gave him your best sad eyes, knowing he liked it when you babied him a bit. You moved to straddle him, again, and then leaned in, tugging his cowl down so your lips could find his neck, “I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you.”
I will never be a hardcore DC fan. I will never read the comics and understand the timelines.
But I will ALWAYS be an absolute slut for the fandom. My gods you guys are so creative and funny! Please give me more Brucie Wayne and fluffy batfam and silly JL x Batfam headcanons, they give me life<3
eddie fic where he's sleeping beside the reader after a heated fight and he makes it up by fucking her from behind?
shisjskssj make up sex *faints.* thank you for requesting! <3
18+ mdni — afab!reader, she/her pronouns, fingering, praising, p in v, unprotected sex, light choking, biting, scratching, creampie
he never thought it would hurt to see your back facing him.
usually it excites him. knowing he'd surprised you, hug you from behind, wrap his arms around your waist and place his chin on top of your head as he greets you with messy kisses.
same goes for tedious nights, spooning you, encasing his own body in yours in benign possession; in a promise of protection to the people who thinks of harming you. eddie feels as though he's keeping his own heart against his chest.
but now, your back facing him squeezes his chest. and you're not even beside him — you're by the edge of the bed, curled into the ball with the blanket halfway through your torso, hands tucked beneath your pillow as you breathe unevenly. you're still awake.
it started at work. at some dingy restaurant where you waitered, serving some greedy and sordid men who thought a hand down your ass was enough of a tip. they never got away with it, because your boss knew it was wrong. and eddie knew that none of it was your fault — of course he did. he should.
but an old friend came over. an old boy-space-friend came over at work. sat on the booth right at the corner. and you couldn't help but catch up, because he was an old friend. but eddie got the wrong idea; standing outside the restaurant with a smile that slowly fell as you laughed and smack some other guy's arm as you did so — the way you'd do to eddie when you couldn't breathe from all the laughter.
he wasn't insecure. eddie knew you loved him. but it didn't mean he would trust the guys around you immediately. watching at the way the old friend eyed you like some fresh meat, the way his hand would go on your shoulder as he laughs like a pretentious dick.
jealousy burnt him alive. it put him in a sour mood even as he picked you up, chastised his kiss by placing it on your cheek, but his hand on your thigh was tighter.
and gasoline rained upon him when you went home.
"come on. i saw the way you touched his arm!"
"it wasn't even a touch, it was a slap! i slap my dad's arm like that all the time. what the hell is wrong with you?"
"maybe if you weren't flirting with some guy, i wouldn't have acted this way."
you weren't even the one who poured it.
as the fire died, residues of leaden smoke pervade the bedroom. as well as your irritation towards his irrationality. because for you, though he may not have said it, you think that he's lost his trust by the simple sight of another man laughing harmlessly with you.
it angers you. how he got jealous — even though you would have felt the same if you ever saw him with some other person. but you know you'd never shout at him, or accuse him of flirting, or any other detrimental acts that could break the chain in your tethered hearts.
but you're young. and you're petty. and you have every reason to be mad. so you are mad. sinking into your side, eyes shut even though the dreams refuse to start. you know eddie's staring at your spine, tracing the color of your thin shirt — your shirt rather than his. a detail he's picked up that leaves a pang to his chest that spreads everywhere.
he thinks of letting this go. letting you sit in your own cottage of anger until its wood has been burnt into nothing but lethal ashes. but if eddie sits this one out, there'll be nothing left to fix; what would ashes do if not be swept away by the wind?
eddie sighs. "(y/n)."
no answer. duh.
he gently, so gently, places a hand on your shoulder to shake you carefully. you frown at his sudden touch, but you refuse to move and try to trick him into thinking that you were asleep. because you really just want to sleep.
but ever the fighter, eddie makes another sigh before he's scooting closer to you. until the curve of your back hits his chest and he hooks his arms around your waist, his fingers splayed around your stomach. "baby," he mumbles, pressing his lips on your clothed shoulder.
your tongue clicks with the roof of your mouth, the lines between your eyebrows deepening as you try not to melt into his touch. "what, eddie?"
his nose tickles the crevice of your neck, his breath hot as he huffs against your skin. "i'm sorry, baby," eddie pouts, his head lifting slightly to take a glimpse of your eye and cheek. "i didn't mean to yell. or accuse you."
hesitantly, you open your eyes, staring onto the poster that sticks to the plaster walls of his trailer, but your focus remains on the way his hand is lightly massaging your stomach and his lips that stay on your shoulder.
you turn around, the sheets ruffling along with your heavy huff. eddie etches a small, triumphant smile on his face, even though you're still frowning at him.
"sorry doesn't cut it, eddie," you whisper. his smile withers, licking his lips before he nods in understatement. "you yelled at me. you accused me of flirting with someone else. it's like you don't trust me."
eddie puts his hand on your arm, furrowing his eyebrows as he leans closer. "no. no baby, i trust you. it's just that—"
"you don't trust them. i know," you pinch the bridge of your nose. "but that doesn't mean you should yell at me. he was a friend. we were catching up. and i'm sorry if it made you think that way but we should have just talked about it."
guilt showers him. and embarrassment drowns him in this tub; because he knows you're right. eddie should have sat down, or approached you quietly, and maybe he should have just asked who he was and told himself that you'd choose him over anyone. because you would, right?
because you promised. and he believes it because he trusts you.
"princess," he whispers into the thin air, cold and cruel to exposed skin. "i'm sorry. i- i trust you with my whole heart. i swear. okay? i'll never do it again, i promise you." brazenly does he let his fingers dance up your arm to the side of your face where he pushes your hair away, swallowing thickly. "i swear to you. i swear on my hair. on ozzy osbourne. on the hellfire club. even dustin henderson. i swear."
you find the love in you to laugh and smile at him, despite the fact that it wasn't a joke and he knew that he'd actually swear on dustin — the kid he adores the most. you place your hand on top of his, the one on your cheek, and find comfort in the warmth of his flesh in this cold night.
"i still need to see some groveling, though," you half-jest. "i wanna see you on your knees tomorrow. cooking for me. iron my clothes. fold my laundry. everything." eddie grins, his teeth glinting between his thin lips. "that shows then how sorry you are."
"baby, i'd be at your service any time," he takes your hand and kisses the back of it, lips placed on top of a vein. "i'd be on my knees for you anytime." eddie says this with the hand beneath his body untucking itself so that it would travel down your stomach, coz he's a sucker for a great performance.
eddie nudges his nose with yours, his lips hovering in a ghost of a wanted kiss but never truly reuniting. his hand wanders down, cheeky fingertips lingering above your shirt before it comes down beneath to touch your hot flesh. "babe," you warn, letting your eyes flutter shut when his thumb grazes the skin beneath your breasts. "i still- i still haven't fully forgiven you. 'was supposed to give you the silent treatment but—"
"but we're here now, hm?" you gasp at the touch of his rough hand suddenly groping your tit, pressing your hard buds against his palm as his fingers dig onto your flesh, squeezing it like some pillow. eddie smirks when your eyebrows join, lips parted to let out small, quiet whines when his other hand decides to slither beneath your shirt and cup your tits with his thumbs running over your nipples. "gonna let me make it up to you, princess? we can start now, yeah?"
you know he's not fully in control, in the way his hands still stay on your tits and never really where you want him to. his thumbs and fingers that pinch and pull on your hardened buds awaits for your guidance; you take one hand of his, and shove it beneath your sleep shorts to let him cup the pool of wetness created by merely by the fondling of your breasts.
eddie chuckles, each beat drips boastfully. "all that for me? you're mad at me but you're still wet, huh?"
you tsk, frowning still with your eyes closed. "shut up or i'll fuck myself in the bathroom."
"with what?" he queries, fingers tracing the lace of your panties before they press against your slit through the fabric. eddie bites his lip when you moan quietly, subtly grinding against his palm. "your fingers, hm? thought you can't make yourself cum? because your fingers aren't as big as mine, sweetheart. you'll just anger yourself more."
still, despite his teasing, he moves your panty to the side and lets his fingertips drag through your slick folds. eddie swallows the moan that comes out by pressing his lips with yours — a messy, breathy open mouthed kiss that makes your hips stutter against his fingers that they slip to prod on your starving hole. he shoves his tongue in your mouth, flicking it with yours before he closes his lips around you to fully kiss you, silencing your moans.
his fingers decide that sliding them against your cunt wasn't enough, coming up to rub your clit in slow figure-eights. you squirm against him, slowly lifting when eddie's other arm wraps beneath you to push your head closer to him, resting on the side of your head to at least keep you still and quiet.
"eddie," you whine. "you're such- you-ah...you're an asshole."
your glinting slick coats his fingers. your supposed insult makes him press harder to your clit that makes you jolt, eyebrows clenched and raised when he does so. "i know, baby," he hums, smiling roguishly. "i'm such an asshole for touching you after we fight. i'm such an asshole that—"
he plunges his fingers — two fingers, right inside your hole. straight up until he's knuckle deep and his fingertips graze your g-spot when he curls them. you moan loudly against his lips, only to be muffled when he encases your mouth again.
"—i'm only fingering you," he finishes. "that i'm teasing you. because you want my cock, right? i know you want it. gotta give my princess what she wants, hm? but how will i be sure if it's my dick she wants if she can't even say it?"
you're panting, even though eddie's doing all the work by fucking you with his long fingers. he's pressing and tracing your gummy walls; scissoring his limbs in the way he knows you love that has your toes curling. your grip his forearm, nails digging on the bats on his skin until there's crescent indentations on his opalescent organ.
"say it, baby," he nips at your bottom lip, opening his eyes just to stare at your slacked jaw and wrinkled face. you whine and whimper when he picks up the pace and goes fast, a soft squelching noise heard beneath the blankets from your arousal.
"i- i want your cock," you mewl, legs spreading wider. when eddie shoves a third finger, your forehead touches his, greeted by an unsynchronized kiss where you take his top lip into yours. "p-please. i want your cock, eddie. your big, fat fucking cock inside me."
"atta girl," eddie takes his fingers away, shoving three of them to suck out your sweet juices. he moans as he does so, your eyes opening and you feel like you could just cum right there at the sight of it. "turn around, sweetheart."
you go back to your old position — your back to his chest. but this time it doesn't squeeze his chest. it makes all the blood flow down to his hardening cock, begging to be sprung out by his tight boxers and dive into your gaping hole.
still with an arm beneath you, eddie uses the advantage to lightly wrap his hand around your neck, pressing on the sides. your hand moves blindly behind you, searches for his cock that eddie tries to free as he removes his briefs and tucks it beneath his ass. he licks on his palm and jerks himself a few times, groaning when your palm meets his shaft and pumps him sloppily.
"fuck, baby," he pants. "god it hurts. i need to- i need to be inside you right now."
eddie nips at your earlobe, both your hands holding his cock upright as he presses his tip right into your hole that clenches on nothing but the sweaty air. you take a deep breath when he starts pushing in, his hand leaving his cock to push your leg up from beneath your knee, his length slowly pushing in until his thick mushroom bulges almost painfully at your cervix.
he stops then when he's pushed to the hilt; his balls right up at your neglected hole. eddie lets out a short moan, grunts when your nails scratch at his forearm and throw your head back where your hair meets his lips.
"‘y so tight, (y/n)," he sighs. "can feel you squeezing the shit out of me. i'm gonna move now, okay?"
you nod. eddie pushes his hips back, cunt halfway through his length before he slams back in, tip almost bulging out of your navel. your hand comes up to wrap behind his head, letting his lips evade your temple, trailing down to your neck where he removes his hand just so he can suck on your sweaty complexion.
he's slowly pistons himself, though despite the laggard thrusting, skin slapping is heard. eddie's panting on your neck, your moans high-pitched and sometimes mistaken as a whimper when you try to keep quiet as to not disturb neighbors nearby.
"love this cunt," eddie groans, his thrust slowly fastening. "such a tight pussy. pretty fucking pussy jus' taking all of me 'coz you're such a good girl, yeah? a good girl who deserves everything; even my fucking cock. come on, baby, milk me dry."
his grunting exceeds when he fucks himself faster, your ass grinding up against him. you wish to see his face, the way they would always scrunch up into his blissful haze at the feeling of your walls against his bare dick. but you're too cockdrunk, your limbs tangled into this clusterfuck of released anger and make up sex.
you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling his teeth biting at your skin. "shit, baby," you mewl, pushing up against him. "fuck me faster— oh, yes! yes yes, fuck!"
he removes the hand from your knee to rub your clit, almost ripping the seams of your underwear as his hand moves vigorously on the swollen nub. he circles, he rubs it left and right in a quick pace that almost matches his thrusts. his slick and your arousal creating the most lewd and loud squelching noises that the covers can't even muffle.
"oh- yeah," eddie moans, maybe a bit louder than you. "fuck, i'm gonna cum. i'm gonna fucking cum, baby."
eddie doesn't need your approval, anyway, because at one thrust, you're spilling all over his thick cock, painting his muscle in white, salty cream. he moans when he feels your warm substance coat him like the way your hand would. and soon, his tip pushes his seed deep in your pussy, paints you hot white like a blank canvas.
but despite his sensitive cock twitching, he's still slowly thrusting inside you. eddie pulls out when he's had enough, turns your panting into whimpers when his fingers scoop up his cum and push it back inside your spasming hole.
"eddie, i'm still sensitive," you say absentmindedly, eyes dripping.
"i know, baby," he kisses your cheek. "just gotta keep you full, okay? just keepin' it inside."
and when he's pressed your panties back in places and cleaned himself up with his hand, eddie wraps his arms around you once more, pushing you close to his chest and peppers kisses all over your head.
"i'm sorry," he whispers. "i still am sorry for what i did. i'll grovel tomorrow, i promise."
you hum, taking his hand and kissing the back of it. "you're forgiven for like, five percent."
"because you teased me," you playfully kick his shin. "now let me sleep."
rushed bc dude i need to take a shit
reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3
wearing eddie’s hellfire shirt and him just sorta malfunctioning when he sees you >>>
no but you are so right!!
no explicit warnings?? morning after. kissing/making out. swearing.
masterlist // inbox // add yourself to my taglist
‘Baaaaabe’, Eddie groaned as he felt the other side of the bed lose its warmth. You had woken up a few minutes ago and told him you would be back in a second, yet many seconds passed. You still were nowhere to be seen… not that he did see anything as Eddie had his face burrowed deep into his pillow, trying not to wake up properly just yet. ‘Come back to bed; I miss you.’ His voice sounded muffled through the pillow, but it carried through the entire trailer.
‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ you couldn’t help but laugh as you jogged back into his bedroom. You were greeted with the sight of Eddie’s bare back, his arms spread wildly, his hair a nest atop his head. Your clothes were splayed all over the room, together with his, as a result of the night before.
‘Are you there?’ he mumbled, shuffling around, not getting up just yet. ‘Stop staring and just get in here.’ His voice was so gravelly and coarse, having just woken up.
‘I wasn’t staring,’ you denied the allegation, most definitely doing what you were being accused of as you leaned against the door, with the goofiest smile on your smile. You couldn’t believe that this got to be your morning, and it could become a regular thing, too.
‘Yeah, yeah, and I’m not— is that my shirt?’ Eddie had finally rolled over and looked over his shoulder at you, and the sight of you standing before the bed immediately made him lose track of any of his thoughts. He rubbed his eyes open quickly.
‘Oh, uhh, yeah. I couldn’t find my shirt, so I just took yours– I hope that’s alright?’ maybe you should have asked before just taking and putting it on. You were ready to apologise and take it off, but Eddie stepped in:
‘Yeah, absolutely, sweetheart. Fuck— you look–’ he laughed sheepishly, completely lost for words.
‘Look what?’ you couldn’t help but tease his rattled expression. Eddie just looked so cute when he was flustered.
‘Just– ugh, there are no words.’ he grabbed for his chest, pouting dramatically. But you weren’t easily satisfied.
‘Will you at least get back in bed if I do?’ he bargained.
‘I think that depends on what you decide to say next, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, you are cruel,’ he glared at you, to which you only responded with a shrug. Eddie laughed to himself. ‘You… are… just the most…oh fuck, please just come here.’
‘You’re lucky you’re cute, Munson.’ You rolled your eyes, walking over back to the bed. But even that took too long for Eddie’s liking, and he pulled you in by the arm as soon as he could reach you, making you fall right on top of him. His arms wrapped around you, hugging you tightly, kissing every inch of your skin accessible to him.
‘All this because of a shirt?’ you asked, giggling, knowing fully well you could get so much worse about him for so much less. He kept kissing you but nodded at your question.
‘Don’t you ever take it off,’ he said once he pulled away from your collarbone to look you in the eyes. ‘This might honestly be the hottest thing you’ve ever worn.’
‘A bit conceited, considering it's your shirt.’ you booped his nose with your finger, which Eddie tried to catch with his teeth before you pulled back. At this moment, you were sitting in his lap; legs draped over his from each side.
‘You know what I mean.’ He kissed your neck a second after saying that, and you would have replied with something witty that might have ruined the moment because you would both burst out laughing, but his touch felt too good.
‘Ok, I’m getting a bit cold now; let me get back under.’ Much to Eddie’s protests, you got off his lap and slipped under the blanket. Eddie was, of course, quick to pull you into a tight embrace and made sure you warmed up quickly. Spooning you from behind in the early morning hours, you could fall back to sleep if it weren’t for the feeling that someone kept looking at you.
‘Stop staring,’ you mumbled, poking him.
‘Wasn’t.’ He mumbled right back, kissing your shoulder. ‘Logistically impossible from this angle.’
thank you for reading! please reblog and comment (maybe leave a review??) I would love to think what you thought of it <3
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if you do blurbs can u do a quick thing about morpheus making fun of his wife for getting really wet whenever she sees him do certain things??
Suggestive themes ahead, Minors DNI!!!
Also a quick reminder that I’m not officially taking requests, but if I’m really feeling a Morpheus thought you send me I might do a short blurb or include it in a fic.
“My love,” Morpheus finally breaks the long silence, still studying the book in front of him.
“Yes?” Shit, that came out way too high-pitched and breathy. You clear your throat and answer again, an octave lower. “Yes, Morpheus?”
“I am merely reading.”
You can’t decipher his tone, but if you had to guess, you’d say he sounds slightly... amused.
“That hardly warrants such... enthusiasm.”
He looks up at you through his lashes on the last word and... yeah, that’s definitely a glint of amusement in his eye, and his lips curl into that little smirk of his. You’ve been caught.
Not that you were trying very hard not to be. For the past ten minutes you’ve been sitting across the table from him in the library, watching him turn page after page. And though the concentrated little furrow between his brows is endearing enough in itself, it’s his hands you couldn’t tear your eyes away from.
Those lithe, pale finger, slowly caressing the blank edge of the page in time with his eyes skimming the text. The way he catches the bottom corner between his thumb and index, lingering there for the last few moments before he’s ready to turn the page. The occasional absent-minded move that has his nails lightly scratching the paper, vaguely reminiscent of times when he drags them down your back, leaving the faintest red lines and delicious shivers in their wake-
You knew it already, but you’re reminded again of how much you fucking love your husband’s hands. They’re so beautiful and soft and he uses them with such elegance, as if they’re making love to that damned book you’re starting to become jealous of.
And yet you were just sitting there, quietly squeezing your thighs together and hoping not to get noticed. But of course Morpheus did notice. He always does. It’s like he can smell whenever you get wet.
And boy, are you soaked.
“No,” you finally reply to his observation. Although if anyone can make the act of silent reading erotic, it’s Morpheus. “But those do.”
You give his hands a pointed glance, sheepishly biting your lip. Morpheus straightens up, holding your gaze as he carefully closes the book.
“Jealous of paper, are we?” he teases. He puts his index on the upper left corner of the book, then slowly drags his finger all the way down along the leather spine, inch by seductive inch. You’re practically drooling at this point, a ragged breath escaping you as though his long finger were tracing a line down your own spine.
“Very,” you breathe out.
“Then an apology is in order. My wife should not be neglected in favour of an inanimate object,” he gests. But with such thick hunger in his voice, it sounds dead serious. “Why don’t you come here and allow me to make real use of my hands, love.”
He doesn’t need to ask you twice.
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26 for eddie kisses pls <3
another ask from the archive but this one really got me thinking. its really just fluff and eddie being sweet <3
“i was supposed to take a shower alone but sure, jump right in”
It's cold. That's the first thought you have when you wake up. Your bedroom is dark and you're cold. The clock on your bedside table reads 7:30 pm. You stretch, legs and arms reaching in opposite directions to wring the post-nap haze out of you and you throw a hand to the other side of the bed only to find it empty. The sheets are still a little warm, so Eddie can't have been gone long.
"Eddie?" you call. No response. You rub your eyes and sit up. There is a dull glow under the bathroom door and now that you're awake you can hear the shower running. You haul yourself out of bed and immediately shiver. Maybe you should have put on more than just a t-shirt.
The closer you get to the bathroom the louder you can hear Eddie singing something. You can't make out the words, not really, but it makes you smile.
You knock on the door. "It's me," you call. "Can I come in?"
"Sure," Eddie says. You open the door and slide into the bathroom as quick as you can without letting out too much steam. It's bright enough that you have to blink a few times to adjust. It's much warmer in here. You can see Eddie's silhouette behind the curtain, his long, lithe body that you love so much. Just being in the same room as him again makes you feel held.
"Did I wake you?" he asks. He pulls back the curtain to smile at you, long hair a sopping mess down his bare shoulders.
You shake your head. "Are you using my shampoo?" His smile turns into a shit-eating grin before he disappears behind the curtain. You shiver again despite the heavy air of the room and decide to just go for it, stripping off your shirt and underwear and pulling back the curtain.
Eddie doesn't even yelp, as though he expected this behavior. "I was supposed to take a shower alone but sure, jump right in," he says. "Before you let all the water out." He reaches out a hand to steady you. His gaze travels all over his body as you step in with him but there's no heat in it, just fond warmth.
The spray is hot on your back, quickly wetting your skin. Your run one hand across Eddie's cheek, thumbing at the water droplets that drip from his lashes. "Hi," you say. He doesn't say anything as he leans into your hand but you can feel his cheeks move as he smiles, his jaw working as he nuzzles your hand.
It's a special kind of comfort to be naked with him like this. To be vulnerable and raw, to just want to be near him so badly that you'd stumble into his shower as you're still waking up from a nap.
"Can I wash your hair?" he says. "I've done mine already." You nod. Eddie kisses your palm.
"Sing that song for me?" you ask. "The one you were singing before I crashed your shower?" He laughs before gently grabbing your shoulders and switching your positions so that he's in the spray.
"I'll sing if you give me a kiss." He puckers his lips cartoonishly.
You roll your eyes. "Oh, what a hardship. Ask for something easier, Eddie." He palms your bare hip and you can't keep up the act for long, leaning in to kiss him softly, chastely.
And then he starts to hum against your lips. You burst into laughter.
"Okay, wash my hair rockstar." He twirls his finger so that you turn around. His voice is soft as he starts to sing a song you've never read before, pressing kisses to your bare shoulder, the back of your neck. It's the most peaceful shower you've ever taken.
Kinktober Day #18-Somnophilia [A.T. + Lannister!Reader]
House of the Dragon/Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!reader
Warnings: Somnophilia, soft Dom!Aemond, mild breeding kink, P in V
(Content for 18+ | Minors DNI)
You moved the brush through your husband’s silver hair as he rested in the hot bath. You could feel the steam on your own as you watched the wisps evaporate into the air. You rather enjoyed these tender moments with him. Battles and bloodshed waged beyond the walls of the castle (even inside at times) and you were thankful for these moments of reprieve. Aemond’s eye patch rested on the table; the sapphire that rested in the orb sparkled in the candlelight. Very few people saw him like this, but he trusted you. His ever loyal wife of noble Lannister stock. He was the dragon, you were the lion and both craved things beyond your reach.
“Go, my lioness, I shall meet you in our chambers,” he murmured.
“I shall see you soon, husband,” you smiled. Your ladies helped you change into your soft golden nightdress and helped you beneath the sheets. You were half asleep by the time Aemond joined you, shivering when you felt his hand push up your dress and slide up your thigh. You made a soft noise.
“Shhh, just relax, my lioness, I’ll take care of everything,” his voice purred. His firm yet soothing touch kept your body at ease. Flittering between the land of dreams and reality as he took his place between your thighs. Hard as a rock, he slowly entered you while he pushed your dress up further and cupped your breasts in his strong hands. Soft, low gasps escaped your lips as you lazily wrapped your legs around his waist. Your eyes remained closed as your belly burned with pleasure. His thrusts were steady, his breath tickled your ear and neck as his face found it’s favorite place in the crook of it. You allowed him to take the reigns as you remained half asleep and gave your body over to him entirely. You felt the warm burst of his seed fill you up before he collapsed on top of you.
“My dragon,” you whispered, fingers tangled in his hair as you drifted fully off into a peaceful sleep and hoped your belly would soon swell with his child.
Thinking about Peter accidentally breaking the bed when he's fucking you😅
mdni. 18+ only.
the moment it happens your eyes widen, and peter thinks that it's him making you cum (which he's about to, but that's not the point). the point is that it's a bit terrifying for the bed you're on to suddenly split at the leg and peter doesn't even notice.
"babe, you broke... the..."
"shhhh," peter interrupts you with a sloppy kiss, gripping your thighs with bruising force as he rams into you. it's an agonizing pace that's somehow even faster than the own pitter-patter of your heartbeat or the thunderstorm outside, but you take his intentions seriously and knock your head back in paradisiacal bliss.
his super strength gets the best of him even further when his hand's around your throat, expletives babbling from his mouth as he's practically begging you to cum. and you do, and the look on his face from watching you almost looks as if he's in anguish but really, the pretty pink of his mouth is wide open along with his fluttering gaze.
and then he's helping you ride out your high with more hard thrusts so that he can get his fill -- he's so close after watching you, after all -- that the last slam of hips against yours causes the whole bed to shift backward in which the hind wooden legs completely snap under pressure.
"you stupid idiot," is all you can breathe, chest slick with sweat heaving up and down while your hair falls backward onto the mattress that's currently slanted in an almost cartoonish way. peter's above you while you're slightly bent upside-down and he can't help his laughter, kissing you with it until both of you are in hysterics.
"well, now i have a reason to convince may to get rid of this twin bed. i'm a growing boy."
"peter, i don't know if i could handle it if you grew even more."
immortal yanderes with a darling who is reincarnated every time. They are immortal and you are the only thing which makes them happy, they cannot and will never think of losing you. Never.
immortal yanderes who are ready to tear apart the whole Earth for just a mere human. They know that you are just their first love's reincarnation but their first love was also you.
immortal yanderes who know that no matter how much you run away you will always end up with them. Since, they know you way to well than you know yourself.
immortal yanderes who are ready to chase you in death too. They don't care if all this is illegal or not because they have existed forever and that too the number of times when someone tried to kill them and had failed. It simply never bothers them.
immortal yanderes who will always be ready for the next time you will reincarnated. Always waiting. Since, they know you will never be able to outrun them.
Mmm Aegon thoughts
So like. Aegon riding you, and he can't make himself feel good. He's helplessly bouncing on your strap, he keeps whining that his tummy hurts. All you can do is stare and smirk at how pitiful he looks. Hair sticking to his forhead with sweat, his body is flushed and covered in hickeys and bites. Drool is dried to his chin and he's been crying.
You take pity on him and ask if he needs help. Aegon just whines and nods, then lays against your chest while you just fuck into him. He's mewling and panting and his cock is pressed between his stomach and yours and the friction and the pounding on his prostate is just too much and he cums all over both of your tummys. When he finally comes down from his high, he doesn't want to move. He wants to lay with you and kiss you and play with your hair and fall asleep like that
✧·˚ ༘ * ༄ before bed time.
“you’re staring again darlin’” jake says eyes still glued to his phone. you’re both in bed this late at night but he had to text rooster to ask him about something with scheduling or something— he told you but you were too tired to actually listen. so while he finishes up text his friend you sleepily stare at him and wonder silently how you got so lucky.
“am i?” your eyelids feel heavy but you want to stay up just a little longer for him so he doesn’t go to sleep alone even though you are physically right next to him.
“you’re starting to make me wonder if i have something on my face” an idea pops in your head.
“you do, it’s handsomeness” you say offering a sleepy smile to him when he looks over at you. he place his phone down and turns of the light next to him then turns back and scoops you up in his arms to hold you.
“you’re purely the reason i have such an ego you know that?” he kisses your neck then your cheek and finally your lips. you love complimenting him, he always gives you so many kisses after and kisses from him are the best thing in the world and you’re pretty sure you’ve developed an addiction to them if that’s possible or maybe you just really love his chapstick.
“i only speak the truth when i’m sleepy, you know this” he brushes back your hair from your face and he smiles at you.
“i’m gonna marry you someday” you rest your head against his chest and hum in agreement.
“and i can’t wait for it” sleep starts to take over your body and you feel him take your hand in his along with a soft kiss on your head before you allow sleep to consume ￼you. jake is left alone in his own thoughts for just a moment as he feels sleep creep up on him, he imagines a family with you and how peaceful you look asleep on top of him right before his own eyes feel heavy.
“i love you darlin’ sleep well”
i have an addiction to blurbs and when they take place before or during bedtime, so buckle up buttercup
.love always <3 pearl
pairing: Javier Peña x reader
warnings: kinda spicy, Javi is just a bit ass-ish at the end, but in a hot way lmao
a/n: longer than I expected!
Working at a bookshop had its ups and downs. As with any customer service job, how each day was was usually dependent on the customers themselves. Your store was on the outskirts of Chicago proper, so you had regulars who lived in the area and then people from the city as well. For the most part, though, everyone was great and you had a lot of downtime to read if you had all of your stocking and organizing duties completed.
Since the holidays were coming up, things were busier, but you didn’t mind. You had control of the music so you could play only what you liked, decorations were up, and everyone who came in looking for a gift was always so happy when they found the perfect thing (or failing that, a gift card).
One day in early December, you were busy stocking the mystery shelves when you realized that you needed to put some things on the top shelf and you hadn’t brought your little step stool. It was only three books though, so you thought maybe you could try to get them up there with some reaching and jumping.
You started with one because they all went in separate spots, and couldn’t get it just reaching. So you got on your tiptoes, as high as you could go, and used your other hand to balance yourself. Stretching as much as you could, you could just get the bottom edge of the book on the shelf, but couldn’t push it into place, and as soon as you let go it would fall.
Huffing, you thought for two seconds before you placed your foot on the bottom shelf.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” came a voice from no more than three feet away and you whipped around to see a tall, broad shouldered man standing with his hip cocked out and a smirk on his face.
You could barely keep from literally looking him up and down, but you did notice his full lips, mustache, and aquiline nose before you met his eyes. While his comment could have seemed condescending, the twinkle in his eyes was playful and his tone was flirty.
More than a few customers had tried to flirt with you before. Most of the time, you were polite but refocused them on the books or their transaction. A few times you had had coffee with regulars that never went anywhere, and once or twice you had slept with one. And this man, whoever he was, was handsome, very handsome, and you didn’t mind his flirting at all.
“Oh yeah? Are you some kind of bookshelf expert?” you asked him, matching his tone. Your eyes flicked down to his hands and then back to his face, “A carpenter, maybe?”
He smiled and laughed, “Not a carpenter, I’ve just done a lot of stupid things and got hurt in my time. If you’d like, I can put those books up there for you.”
You bit your lip, hesitating for a second because you didn’t want to inconvenience him. Then again, he offered, and he was looking at your lips. You smiled, “I shouldn’t say yes because I shouldn’t let customers do my work for me, but… yes, that’d be super helpful.”
The man took a few steps over to you and held out his hand. You gave him the first book and noticed how small it looked comparatively and had to look away.
“Okay, that goes in between Clark and Clay right there,” you pointed to a spot nearly right above you. There was just enough room for deniability’s sake, but he got close enough to you that you felt the air his body moved on your back and suppressed a shiver.
It was the same process for all three books, except both of you moved a little bit closer each time. By the end of it, you were ready to just push him up against the shelf and make out.
But you controlled yourself and instead turned to face him (still incredibly close) to say, “Thank you very much for your help.”
He smiled charmingly at you and held out his hand, having to bend his elbow past 90 degrees so that it fit between your bodies, “I’m Javier.”
You shook his hand, trying very hard to keep your voice from getting shaky as you responded because his hand was so big and warm.
A few seconds more than a normal handshake went by before either of you let go, but when you did, you asked, “Is there anything I can help you find, Javier?”
Before answering, he reached out and grabbed a book off the shelf that was at waist level for you, and you weren’t sure if his hand brushed your waist on the way back or if you just really hoped it did.
“I’ve got the book I wanted right here, but I’d appreciate a guide back to the register,” he told you and you were glad because if you rang him up you could write your number on his receipt.
On your way back to the front, you realized just how dead the shop was. It had been slow all day because of the weather, but now you realized that the person you checked out before meeting Javier must have been the last person in the whole store other than the two of you.
When you got near enough to see the window, you understood why. It was snowing thick enough that you couldn’t see the shops on the other side of the narrow street. It was also clear that the wind was strong because most of the snow was falling diagonally.
“Oh my goodness,” you murmured, stopping before you even reached the front desk just out of surprise.
Javier came to your side. You heard him breathe an expletive and worried that the weather was going to disturb whatever plans he had for the day. But then he surprised you by saying, “Well as long as the power doesn’t go out, I think I’ll just stay here and get a start on this book.”
He had gestured to the couch that was in front of an electric fireplace the owners had installed because they loved creating a welcoming and cozy atmosphere more than anything.
A few seconds went by while you processed everything that had just happened in the last five seconds. And then you smiled slowly and said, “I might just join you, that stocking was my last task today other than the register.”
Javier smiled back but it wasn’t slow and it held a lot more meaning than yours had. “Well, sweetheart, the only thing that could make this better is if you had some whiskey stashed away somewhere.”
You gasped softly, ignoring for the moment the flush of heat on your neck and between your legs when he called you “sweetheart,” and then told him, “I think this is getting to be our lucky day.”
As you hurried off towards some sort of office, Javi watched your retreating figure. Especially the way your hips moved and how your flowy skirt threatened to expose the lower swell of your ass with every quick step. He grunted softly and sat down in the middle of the couch, ready to keep you close because he was pretty sure his day wasn’t the only one that was getting lucky.