Bestie hehe whose pullout game is worst and whose is best out of the characters Evan plays???
the evans + their pullout game !
ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ kyle spencer ‧ jimmy darling ‧ james patrick march ‧ kai anderson ‧ peter maximoff ‧ colin zabel — nsfw ; MDNI 18+
a/n: hey bestie i love your mind
TATE LANGDON . (3/10)
his intentions are good. his execution? terrible. pull-out game is WEAK purely due to incompetence.
“fuck—wait, wait.. shit, i was supposed to-”
feels guilty as hell afterward. “you don’t think i did it on purpose, right? you believe me, don’t you?”
KIT WALKER . (2/10)
kit TRIES to be responsible. really, he does. but he’s also a man who fucks deep and loves even deeper.
a very passionate lover and in the heat of the moment, he forgets everything else.
honestly, he doesn’t even try that hard.
if you reminded him, he’d listen. but if you didn’t? yeah, he’s finishing inside.
if you got pregnant, he’d step up immediately. pullout game is terrible but he’s a great dad.
pre death .ᐟ KYLE SPENCER . (10/10)
doesn’t take risks; he’s got a good head on his shoulders.
his timing and self control are actually great. the pull-out game is strong with this one.
even before he met you, kyle doesn’t sleep around like most of his frat brothers, even though he totally could.
JIMMY DARLING . (6/10)
jimmy knows he can’t afford to be reckless. he’s working in a freak show—not exactly the best place to raise a kid.
he also worries about passing on his ectrodactyly. even though you tell him constantly that it doesn’t matter.
most of the time, he cums on your tits or ass.
but when he’s drunk, he’s super impulsive, emotional. all self control flies out the window.
if you got knocked up, he’d have a mini breakdown and go on a two day bender but would also step up.
he will also propose immediately (after he gets his shit together)
JAMES PATRICK MARCH . (10/10)
he is nothing if not disciplined.
if james ever decided to give you an heir, that decision was made long before the act.
lowkey has reservations because of bartholomew.
⟢ cult leader .ᐟ KAI ANDERSON . (0/10)
kai never pulls out. he never intended to in the first place.
at first, he’ll act like it was an accident—for the purpose of plausible deniability. he’ll moan about how tight you are, how good you feel, and then when it happens:
“fuck—couldn’t help it. you feel too good, baby.” he’s fake guilty, kissing your shoulder, murmuring “next time i’ll pull out, promise.”
next time never came. (but he did. inside you) at some point, he just stopped pretending.
“this is how it’s supposed to be. why would i waste it anywhere but inside you?”
if you tell him you’re not ready for kids, he’ll say “women are biologically wired to want children. you’re just brainwashed by feminism.” (i hate this guy)
0/10 cos he’s actively TRYING to fail.
if you got pregnant? he’d be ecstatic.
PETER MAXIMOFF . (5/10)
thinks he has great control, but he really, really doesn’t.
he’ll pull out last second. but he cuts it close EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
sometimes he miscalculates timing.
“uh. okay, okay—don’t freak out, but I MAY have just—wait, are you on the pill?”
COLIN ZABEL . (9/10)
very responsible. colin respects boundaries and never pressures you into risky sex. always wears condoms unless you explicitly ask not to.
“you sure? ‘cause, uh, i got condoms—like, a lot. not a weird amount, just… y’know, normal.”
lowkey wants to have kids with you… but suppresses the “selfish” fantasy.
his one weakness? when he’s tipsy.
the one time you were both drunk, making out on the couch, which led to hot and sloppy sex. you felt so good and he was so lost in it, and then—
“oh, shit.”
immediate panic. full-body guilt. buys you plan b, also flowers and coffee because he feels guilty.
overall he’s very reliable, just that one slip-up.
Characters : Tate Langdon ★ Kit Walker ★ Kyle Spencer (frat! & franken!) ★ Jimmy Darling ★ James Patrick March ★ Kai Anderson ★ Austin Sommers ★ Warren Lipka ★ Peter Maximoff ★ Colin Zabel ★ Cooper Day ★ Julian Dillinger
CW : mentions/allusions to sex but nothing descriptive, mentions of smoking & marijuana
A/N : English isn't my first language, feel free to correct any errors although this has been proofread. Feel free to suggest characters to add and I might edit them in. This one was fun to write despite the amount of characters. Enjoy!
★··»—›Tate Langdon
technically he doesn’t sleep, or need to
but he’ll still pretend he can if you wanna sleep with him
even if it’s him essentially lying there with his eyes closed and trying to keep his mind blank
there’s a good chance that the second you’re asleep he’ll just open his eyes and watch you though, thinking about you keeps the visions away
in terms of position, I think it’s needless to say he’d rather be held
whether you’re spooning him or holding him against you with his head on your chest, he’s happy
Tate seems like one of those people who sleep fully clothed, jeans on and all, biggest favor he’ll do you is take his shoes off if you ask
since he isn’t really asleep you don’t need to worry about noises or him moving, apparently with being dead you learn to stay still for long amounts of time
good chance he’ll pretend to still be asleep when you wake up and then coincidentally open his eyes within a couple of minutes and stir as if he needs a good stretch
if he does “wake up” first, he’ll be staring at you and smiling, and honestly it looks too sweet to be creepy (even if it slightly is), he might even say he dreamed about you just for the hell of it because he would if he could.
★··»—›Kit Walker
it’s not like you need to ask, if you’re with him you most likely already are married (or he plans to marry you if not) and live in his house
sleeping next to you is about as natural as breathing to him
such a large bed just so you can both be stuck to each other in the middle
unless you like your space or are the type to move a lot, he’ll usually sling an arm around your torso and pull you against him, head against his chest and all
it feels like a protective position and he likes that
he’s definitely sleeping in his white briefs and wifebeater, at most if it’s cold he might wear one of those classic flannel pants and button up PJs
besides you keep each other warm enough usually
he doesn’t move too much except on the rare occasion he’s getting a nightmare about briarcliff or the aliens
those nightmares usually wake him up anyway and he’ll get up to have a smoke outside the house before coming back to sleep and hold you a little tighter
if he wakes up before you (probably for work) he’ll kiss your forehead and reluctantly let go of you to start his day (with an effort to be extra quiet)
when he leaves early, if anything needs to be reminded for the day he’ll leave a note on the fridge with quick love you and a hastily drawn heart
on weekend mornings if you sleep in, the kids might join you and slide between you while trying to keep their giggles quiet
which delays getting up even more
he keeps telling them they gotta grow out of that but makes absolutely no effort to put it in practice
they probably will someday but for now just let them be kids and sleep in a little longer
★··»—›Frat!Kyle Spencer
you’ll probably be the one asking the first time and it would preferably be at your place because he isn’t so comfortable even having you over at his mother’s house or the frathouse
but it’ll be a very enthusiastic (secretly apprehensive) yes like a kid having their first sleepover
he was actually so nervous he didn’t sleep very well the first time but pretended like it was just the new environment—which is half correct and dismiss it as fine
at first he was a little hesitant with physical contact but eased into it over the nights (process is sped up if you initiated)
in fact now the default position is kind of all over each other, mutual holding
it’s not a very specific position, he doesn’t care
but he has a particularly soft spot for having you on his chest with one hand cradling your head and the other on your lower back while you have your arms around his back or neck
it’s comfortable, it’s safe, you’re real close and he can nuzzle his face into your hair and smell it (it’s just comforting don’t judge him), not to mention you can feel his heartbeat
I don’t think he puts too much thought into his jammies, probably sleeps in an old t-shirt and sweatpants, if it’s real hot he’ll sleep in his boxers and if it’s cold he’ll throw on an old hoodie with the graphic most likely faded and washed out
he doesn’t snore or move too much but he does get nightmares about his homelife and unknowingly starts making noise in his sleep
if it wakes you up and you wake him up in concern, he’ll apologize despite it not being his fault and might need a few minutes or maybe some light conversation before he goes back to sleep
if there’s nothing urgent in the morning like a lecture he might allow himself some laziness and stay in bed until one of you decides to be responsible and pull both of you out of bed
If he has plans or class and you don’t, he won’t wake you up and will instead kiss the nearest part of you before slowly sliding out of bed and tucking you in properly. If he has the time to make himself some breakfast, he’ll leave you some with a little post-it note and if he has to rush, he’ll leave a text for you to read when you wake up
★··»—›Franken!Kyle Spencer
A lot of similarities with his pre-death self
except that there is no asking phase, if you’re around, he’ll probably join you when you’re asleep like a scared child
he can’t exactly be on his own very much at the beginning even with just sleeping since his nightmares have gotten worse with his increased trauma
like they actually make him move around a lot before he eventually wakes up and loudly groans in anguish
He’ll need comforting for that because self soothing is a little complicated when the few memories you have of your life are the worst ones and your mind is all fragmented and foggy.
If you can’t read minds you probably won’t know what exactly you have to comfort him for since he can’t (and probably wouldn’t) communicate what exactly happened but as long as you’re there and seem calm or reassuring, it should be good enough; he tends to try and mimic your emotions, so just stay calm
Kyle still has a soft spot for the position previously mentioned because he’s particularly protective of the few things he holds dear in this world (i.e. you) however he does grow a certain kind of appreciation for reversing the roles and being held now
You’re essentially a teddy bear even if neither of you realize it in the sense that he’s purposely difficult if he has to sleep without you and you reassure him through nightmares and night terrors. Oh and you get squeezed just as much as a real one.
No, really, he can’t measure his strength and you woke up on a few occasions being suffocated or smothered while he was blissfully unaware.
He cares even less about sleepwear now since he’d sleep in whatever he’s given and probably would sleep in his day clothes if he wasn’t reminded to change.
He only gets up when you do, I mean he could wake up hours before you and wouldn’t budge unless he needed the bathroom or the world collapsed.
It’s essentially because his day depends on yours and until he gets better he’s not exactly trusted to roam around unsupervised anyway.
When you do get up, it’ll be a bit before he actually lets you go
I mean you’ll be standing and walking and he’ll still be holding you from behind and shadowing you despite how impractical it is until you tell him to let go.
★··»—›Jimmy Darling
He would invite you to sleep over a little jokingly, mostly an innuendo to sleep together but he does actually hope you’ll stay the night since people rarely do. His trailer gets a little lonely.
He also wouldn’t be opposed to sleeping at your place either.
A warm bed and you ? He’s convinced he couldn’t sleep better any other way.
After he’s done showing you how skillful he is with his hands, he just kinda lies there with you until one of you mentions you might as well sleep now which prompts you both to change and get into proper positions
Since his bed is a rather tight space, Jimmy is used to sleeping in a sort of fetal position to not use up much room.
With you in the equation, he sleeps in a similar sort of position facing you and tangling his legs with yours while giving you a little grin. He’ll hold your hand while he’s at it. Or sometimes he’ll reach out and trace his fingers down your spine while making light conversation or pillow talk.
There’s a chance the position might not stick since he moves a bit in his sleep and might turn around entirely but besides that his sleep is mostly untroubled
unless he’s been drinking, then it’s terrible and he’s slurring words in his sleep
Jimmy wouldn’t mind sleeping naked—and he has, but for actual sleepwear, he’s usually down to his briefs and maybe throws his wifebeater on if he feels like it. He’ll make the effort of throwing on the first pair of pants he can reach if he needs to go outside.
Jimmy usually wakes up at the same time everyday since the camp works on schedule and he is not missing breakfast, unless you make it worth his while. He’d let you sleep and try to casually bring a plate back to his trailer for you. If he’s at your place, he’d still wake up early out of habit and then get up to try and figure out how to make you something edible while you’re barely processing his absence in your bed.
★··»—›James Patrick March
once again, as a ghost, he doesn’t exactly need to sleep and once again, I’m not sure he even can
I don’t think he’d pretend to sleep either
but if you ask to “sleep” with him, he’ll happily oblige regardless
he’s a little thrown off at first since he isn’t used to sharing a bed (let’s be honest the countess did not share his bed after the wedding night)
And by that I mean he’ll probably lie on his side of the bed and call it a night until you tug him closer
you essentially have to move him in the position you want since it’s been a while since he last slept and once you’re comfortable he won’t move until you’re asleep
despite not needing any for a while, he probably has one of those classic silk pajama sets in black with initials embroidered on one side or pocket, with the robe and slippers to go with it once he’s up, please and thank you
so he won’t pretend he’s sleeping but he’ll still play his part in lying by your side (probably stare at you for a while) and pretending like he’s going through a morning routine once you’re up
whether he actually stayed the whole night is unsure, possibility is he got up to murder somebody and/or pour himself some absinthe but he’ll come right back anyway, so you’ll never know regardless
once you wake up he greets you good morning with whatever creative pet name he came up with during his hours of alone thinking and ask how you slept while moving your hair out of your face
★··»—›Kai Anderson
once you’re moved in with him, you’re sleeping in the same bed no questions asked
it’s called sharing a bed because it’s essentially how it is for a long while
you each have your sides and occasionally snap at each other over the blanket or room being taken up but that’s it
the only contact you’re having in it for a while is not sleeping iykwim
after a while and maybe after sex, you just might get the exclusive luxury of physical contact to sleep
this is Kai we’re talking about, don’t expect anything overly affectionate, the most you’d get is being pulled against his side like a stuffed animal and you aren’t expected to move or you’re losing that privilege for the night
for the most part if you want any kind of contact you’ll have to be the one to pull him back against you since he usually sleeps facing away from you
if he’s spooning you before you’re both asleep or once you’re awake ? Do not be fooled. He isn’t being sweet, he has other intentions in mind
not that the illusion would last very long anyway
he’s probably sleeping in a worn out hoodie or a long sleeved sweater and some loose comfortable pants, shirtless if it’s especially warm. He went to bed fully dressed on multiple occasions though
as for sleeping troubles, I don’t think he sleeps very long, be it adderall or insomnia, you’ll never know because he would dismiss the issue since he has better to do than sleeping anyway
so he’ll definitely wake up in the middle of the night and go do something else under the guise of being productive, 50/50 chance he’ll come back to crash in bed after a couple of hours
on the exceptional occasion that he wakes up at a decent morning hour (meaning 5-6AM), you’ll be waking up whether you like it or not because he makes no effort to be quiet or careful while he’s getting out of bed, it’s worth questioning whether he doesn’t shove you on purpose
either way your sleeping schedule will be forced to slowly mold into his because he’ll be pissy if you somehow come to bed after him and he’ll also be pissy if you “sleep in” (wake up after 6AM)
most of the time when you wake up he doesn’t even say good morning, no, it’s just “morning” and he already sounds grumpy. If you get more than that he’s pulling a whole quote, possibly from theater and he just might be mocking you, same treatment for good night. (think of the whole “good night sweet prince” shakespeare quote scene)
★··»—›Austin Sommers
He was quick to invite you over for a little “adult sleepover” as he called it, you’re still not sure if it was meant to come off as an innuendo or not, but with him it’s always fair to assume so
in fact he’s probably in bed before you are, lying on his back in the very middle with his arms behind his head while making it clear he’s been waiting for you
You can safely assume there’s a decent time gap between the moment you get on the bed and the moment you both actually tuck in to sleep, what else could you expect ?
That being said he can be surprisingly cuddly for sleeping, and a little childish about it too. Don’t turn away from him, he’ll just grab you and pull you back.
So in terms of position he likes being a little messy and essentially all over you — you aren’t getting up without waking him up which he will be very difficult about. As for the specifics, when he isn’t purposely trying to trample you he likes having his face in your neck, which always ends up with you teasing him for being a stereotypical vampire and being lightly bitten over it.
I can’t explain it but that man is a sleeptalker. Hell, he probably moans in his sleep, now whether what he’s dreaming about is related to the things he says is unknown since on the occasion he wakes up from a dream to jot down the idea, there’s a good chance he’ll scrap it by morning or rework it to oblivion and then it’s not even the same thing at all.
For sleepwear, the PJs from Charvet in Paris, they’re literally canon. Fancy, expensive, silk and dark in color, what more could you expect from him ?
The man is not a particularly heavy or light sleeper but he’s a big dreamer and since he works in a creative field, he does not like being woken up in the middle of a dream. That’s idea fuel, come on.
Also probably sleeps in particularly late just because he can. The deadlines are met so who’s gonna bother him about sleeping in until 12 ? Besides you, of course. Best of luck if you actually need to be up, he has no plans of making it easy for you.
★··»—›Peter Maximoff
He’d probably ask you to crash at his place (mom’s basement) first, in fact he probably did before you were even together but I digress
you still had to be the one to tug him to bed because unless he’s crashing after consuming too much sugar and caffeine, he’ll still be pumped for hours
honestly he strikes me as the type to dramatically throw himself onto the bed and accept whatever position he landed in as his fate, good luck molding yourself with that
it’s a bit of a pain in the ass to sleep with him because just like at any other point in his life; he can’t stay still
always gotta move a limb or two and within ten minutes, he’s in a drastically different position
either put some distance or put your whole weight onto him
if you chose to move aside, he’ll take that as a sign to relax and quit moving and will try to focus on that while pulling you back towards him like a petulant kid who’s plushie fell off the bed (which you probably did at least once because of him)
if you decided to use your weight on him ? also a good way to ground him although he might still be squirmy if you’re light enough, but ultimately he doesn’t want to accidentally push you away so he tries to hold you close
once he’s finally done wriggling like a worm ? Success, mission accomplished, Peter fell asleep. The world can finally be at peace (for now)
Besides his incessant moving pre-sleeping, he doesn’t have much trouble sleeping but he doesn’t exactly sleep as much as the average individual. But don’t think that hinders him, he’s already a menace by dawn.
He might’ve snored like twice in his life, second was with you and after you compared it to cartoon snoring (honk shoo mimimi, you see the vision), he swore to never sleep in whatever position that turned him into a cartoon character and internally doesn’t live it down
Oh the jammies are rad. Those kind of pjs with big franchise logos on the shirt and prints of that character all over the pants, you got him one of those sets with with Roadrunner from Looney Tunes and it’s his favorite, he treasures it like it’s worth gold (and he’s actively hunting for some matching Wile E Coyote ones to steal for you). That’s what he wears to bed, usually with socks. Oh and he always makes the roadrunner noise once he’s put them on as some kind of announcement he’s in PJs.
While he does wake up early, he knows better than to wake you up unless you specifically asked him to, so he tries his best to be discreet and move the covers back on you, he might snap a picture on occasion either to make fun of you if you’re drooling or just for safekeeping if it’s cute
but then again, you’re in the basement where all his cool stuff is, so you might eventually get woken up by sounds from a videogame console or arcade machine and he’ll snap his head around like he didn’t realize noise could reach your ears. Half assed apology.
In truth he’s glad you’re awake again because he was, expectedly, getting bored, as per usual.
for someone who has nothing to do all day, he doesn't spend much time sleeping, says it’s boring and thinks of it as a waste of time. He used to pull all nighters back in his high school days and would end up snoozing in class.
★··»—›Colin Zabel
Before you guys moved in together, it wasn’t exactly some sort of planned “wanna sleep over at my place ?” kinda thing but rather if you go on a date and end up in bed together, you spontaneously decide to spend the night together too. All with due agreement because he would never impose himself, he’d rather walk home in the middle of the night than inconvenience you.
Once you do share the same place, it’s just classic couple routine
he does his best to keep a consistent sleeping schedule despite his rather demanding job so he can spend the third of his day where he’s unconscious with you
I mean he genuinely set himself some kind of bedtime, you once saw a reminder on his phone pop up to go join you in bed, the notification seems to be set daily.
once you’re both done with your side by side night routine, he’s immediately in bed with his arm stretched out for you
you both don’t always sleep immediately, sometimes you’re reading next to each other (because he’ll keep reminding you phone before sleeping is bad) or sometimes you’re spending any leftover energy on each other
he’s more of a stomach sleeper so any position is a little difficult but he always keeps an arm out in your direction so you’re free to mold yourself as you please with that
if you do manage to get him on his side (too sleepy to move or already dozed off), then you have more freedom
the position is essentially whatever you want as long as you can work with that since he’s essentially dead weight once he’s sleeping
he’s also a particularly heavy sleeper and hence has multiple consecutive alarms since he doesn’t wanna be late to work (in which case he tries to make up for it by staying later and buying coffee for his colleagues)
Colin actually has specific clothes selected as sleepwear, not even like proper pj sets but a specific plain tshirt he decided was sleepwear and same for a pair of simple sweatpants. Oh and he sleeps like that no matter the weather or season. Although he does get particularly cold in winter so on occasion you’ll catch him throwing a sweatshirt on like he’s admitting defeat to the cold.
As previously stated, he has multiple alarms so more often than not, you wake up with him despite him not meaning to force you to do so. Half of the time you open your eyes before he does since his hand mechanically moves to the button to turn off the alarm like a teenage boy asking for five more minutes in bed before school.
Just nudge him awake and it should work out fine, he’ll encourage you to go back to sleep if you don’t need to be up early and kiss your forehead. Otherwise, you both get up and start your morning routines side by side.
★··»—›Cooper Day
Ideally he’d rather you ask, he’s considered the idea plenty of times but wasn’t sure how to ask without being awkward about it. Or without it coming off as a massive innuendo.
But hey, his place, yours, doesn’t matter, he's just curious and wants to know what it’s like. He hasn’t been to a lot of sleepovers in his life and especially not with his significant other.
Out of laziness and love for his comfort zone, he’d be slightly more inclined for his house but hey.
Once you’re done properly hanging out and doing your routines, you’re both kinda giggly and awkward when you get in bed—the same one. Totally novel concept.
For a while you’re both lying a little awkwardly side by side like you’re afraid of getting comfortable or even making any kind of contact. Contest of who’s the bravest.
If you don’t make any move he’ll make a very dramatic huff before rolling over on his side facing you and throwing his arm over your middle.
He’s hiding his eyes under his bangs while he’s asking you if you mind because ultimately, he doesn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.
Once you finally get more comfortable in whatever position you like he’ll slowly (and totally smoothly) tug you closer little by little. It feels like he’s waiting to see when you’re gonna scold him, pushing the boundaries a little.
Being a teenage boy and all, he tends to sleep late and sleep in an be particularly cranky when woken up if it’s not a school day (on school days too actually)
He intends on sleeping all 8-10 hours he needs. He’s got a creative brain to fuel.
Cooper once mentioned he used to sleepwalk as a kid to tell you a funny story but was apparently unaware he didn’t fully stop when one time you found him ominously standing in the corner of your room, mumbling something about the door ‘not being placed right’ (which would be fitting since it’s not his room). Better take a picture or grab a camcorder if you want him to believe you in the morning.
His sleepwear is pretty much what you’d expect from him; old band tee, socks and some random loose pants that already have a few holes from being worn down. You also have to remind him to take his jewelry off half the time besides his rings.
As previously mentioned, if it's a weekend morning he’s waking up late no matter what and he’d preferably keep you there to be lazy with him. If it’s a school day or you both have plans early you have to physically pull him out of bed or he’s not moving. He doesn’t even wake up from his own alarm clock.
★··»—›Warren Lipka
He barely thought about it when he invited you to sleep over at his because it didn’t feel like a big deal. You both passed out on his couch a few times before after all.
If anything a bed felt like luxury after so many instances of waking up with sore joints and backs.
You both just kinda plop down in bed and talk while he rolls a joint (and offer to share it if you want)
It keeps going like that or you might put a movie on before you get sleepy.
There is no specific position, whatever position you were in before is the position you’ll sleep in—even if he’s lying perpendicular to you with his head on your stomach and his legs halfway off the bed. It’s fascinating the positions and places he can sleep in.
He supposedly used to sleeptalk especially when he’s dreaming but rarely does anymore since weed decreases REM sleep
His pajamas consist of… taking his pants off. Yeah that’s about it. Whatever top he had on, boxers and socks off. Cannot be bothered. He might sleep fully clothed if his pants aren’t too uncomfortable.
He’s the type of person to wake up ages before he actually gets up and might influence you with that bad habit if you’re not busy. Especially if he can get busy with you in the morning. But mostly he’ll stretch out all his sore limbs and ask how you slept before quickly moving to hunt for the closest edible thing.
★··»—›Julian Dillinger
You’re probably already living together by the time you can comfortably sleep together. He made a point to never stay the night at your place before then so if you did share a bed it would be his.
And the few times where you did sleep over were simply because you were thoroughly exhausted—his fault, really.
But once it becomes more of an established thing, you’ll probably be in bed before him thanks to his very busy job
but he does make a point to come to bed at a decent hour since he absolutely needs a minimum amount of hours of sleep to be efficient—and also to have a little time just the two of you.
he usually doesn’t do anything before bed since usually he is tired by the time he gets there (or if he isn’t, he’ll tire himself out with you) and just drops on the mattress like dead weight
he pretends to be annoyed when you pull the covers over him like you’re tucking him in but he secretly does like it and only then does he move into a proper sleeping position : the soldier
you genuinely make fun of him for it because why does he sleep like that ?
he’ll vehemently defend it despite the fact he looks like he’s ready for the casket
he doesn’t move, like, at all. You’re free to cling to him but he generally will just stay still, maybe unconsciously roll his head to the side to face you. Over time he might make the very generous effort of bracing his arm under your head but he’s not gonna cling to you.
you’re getting some of the best sleep of your life by the way, memory foam mattress and all, ridiculously expensive stuff even in his bedroom just for the sake of putting unnecessary tech everywhere.
because of his back sleeping position he tends to breathe a little loudly, not snoring but nearing that line. He refuses to believe you or listen when you mention his back sleeping could give him sleep apnea.
As for sleepwear, he’s not exactly a fan of sleepwear that looks like, well, sleepwear, as in the classic ensemble of matching button up and pants. Think more like form fitting shirt—long sleeved and thermal in the winter specifically, for bottoms either shorts or longer normal pants but from luxury brands like Ralph Lauren or something with a brand logo on them. Probably all black or in some muted color.
The process of Julian waking up is very… military style. The alarm sound goes off three times, no more no less and he sits up and stretches before getting up to start his day. But not before a very groggy good morning and a lazy kiss to your hand as he debates whether he should try to get you up too. If he does, it’s usually by trying to lure you to the shower or with some good pastries for breakfast.
masterlist ⁞⁞ bold is 18+/nsfw ; posts are otherwise tagged
↳ tate langdon ; phantom gunmetal ⸝⸝ constellate ⸝⸝ leavings ⸝⸝ bitten ⸝⸝ praise ⸝⸝ use once and destroy ⸝⸝ overstimulation ⸝⸝ near shore
↳ kit walker ; holy rider ⸝⸝ virgin white ⸝⸝ daybreak ⸝⸝ atonement ⸝⸝ spring to come ⸝⸝ blessings (i just wanna love you) ⸝⸝ cloudburst ⸝⸝ doves ⸝⸝ morning after/night before ⸝⸝ baby, baby ⸝⸝ a purifying love ⸝⸝ lay all your love on me ⸝⸝ lunchbreak
↳ kyle spencer ; similarities ⸝⸝ myths ⸝⸝ hold me without hurting me ⸝⸝ calculations ⸝⸝ show me love ⸝⸝ ragdolls
↳ jimmy darling ; caretaking
↳ james p. march ; centennial ⸝⸝ halo full of fire (i'm rising up)
↳ kai anderson ; martyr me pt. 1 ⸝⸝ pt. 2 ⸝⸝ lead me to war / false prophet
↳ colin zabel ; swing ⸝⸝ nights / mornings ⸝⸝ period hcs ⸝⸝ nightmare ⸝⸝ mistletoe ⸝⸝ baby ⸝⸝ better with you ⸝⸝ say it like this ⸝⸝ by firelight ⸝⸝ honey ⸝⸝ what i want ⸝⸝ close to me ⸝⸝ hand me downs ⸝⸝ just a little while, babe ⸝⸝ blue seasons ⸝⸝ playground talk ⸝⸝ flutter ⸝⸝ after hours ⸝⸝ incandescent ⸝⸝ miles away ⸝⸝ sunrise ⸝⸝ anamnesis ⸝⸝ [ event - cosmo's 15 ways ]
↳ julian dillinger ; sextape ⸝⸝ necklace ⸝⸝ scold ⸝⸝ ecstasy ⸝⸝ montblanc ⸝⸝ executive ⸝⸝ dynastic ⸝⸝ guests ⸝⸝ floors ⸝⸝ heir ⸝⸝ convergence ⸝⸝ paramount ⸝⸝ you get me so high [+ warren]
↳ warren lipka ; flamingo ⸝⸝ you get me so high [+ julian] ⸝⸝ prince
↳ peter maximoff ; mr. & mrs. ⸝⸝ reflexes ⸝⸝ ready, set, go! ⸝⸝ restless ⸝⸝ condom ⸝⸝ pocketed ⸝⸝ climb in bed with heaven ⸝⸝ game on!
↳ cooper madsen ; casual ⸝⸝ oral sex ⸝⸝ up & down ⸝⸝ get even
Whatever this is but I'm not telling you who I thought of when I was thinking about it.
(tagging it as the characters I write for so take a guess at who I thought of)
18+! MINORS DNI!
⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷
Your lips fell in a silent gasp, head tilting back silently. Fuck...you were currently the hottest thing on the planet to him. Here he was, holding the backs of your thighs as he kept them split, filling you up with every inch of him slowly. He had to supress a loud groan that bubbled through his lips as a quiet whimper.
No one outside that room knew you were gripping the edge of the desk, back arched up slightly as you painstakingly silently enjoyed yourself. The fact your legs were split open only brought him further pleasure. Fuck, he'd definitely press his thumb to your clit if he wasn't holding up your legs.
Trembling with every thrust, you were in pain from not being able to moan out his name. Letting the world know who was making you feel this good. "So good...god.." he mumbled out, letting out a quiet breath after as he only picked up the pace.
Oh, if only the people outside the room knew. How badly you needed his cock, and how willing you were to let him defile you on the desk right then and there. No condom either. How brave.
✘ summary: {Extinguish thou my eyes: I can still see thee. deprive my ears of sound: I can still hear thee, and without feet I still can come to thee, and without voice I still can call to thee. Sever my arms from me, I still hold thee with all my heart as a single hand... – Rainer Maria Rilke} James March becomes obsessed with you, realizing that you were the wife he was supposed to have.
✘ w a r n i n g s: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! SMUT, female reader, no use of y/n, foul language, rough sex, p in v, DARK CONTENT; very dubious consent, psychological manipulation, mental coercion, pining, watching you sleep, invasion of privacy, blood, gore, suffocation, choking, eventual reader death, forced marriages.
✘ a/n: started writing this in september and wanted to get it out before it fell into the void of never finished fics. obsession idea requested by anonymous, if they're still out there! not beta-read as per fucking usual shhhh. banners by @/veejiez @/strangergraphics, and @/bronzewasp!!
↓ fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!
The first thing you did after the breakup was book a hotel. After being kicked out of the house that you both shared, you had nowhere else to go, so a hotel was the only option. Specifically, a hotel in downtown Los Angeles called the Hotel Cortez. It was outdated, certainly, but the price was right and they had availability, despite your late notice.
The second thing you did was cut all your hair off — a short, very fashionable bob. You'd heard it said that hair held memories. Your boyfriend had always loved your long hair. So, naturally, it had to go.
As you breathlessly lug your two suitcases down the hallway, a rich and heady smell fills your nostrils — some cologne, paired with the smokiness of cigarettes. It's strong enough that you feel you must be sharing the space with someone else. You sniff, inhaling it, and gaze down the hall. First in front of you, then behind you. There's no one there, forcing you to assume that it's just years of lingering remnants of occupants — all of which have either retired to their rooms or checked out. Somewhere further down the hall, jazz music drifts towards you, creating an odd, liminal feeling. You furrow your brow, listening to the melange of music and crackling — it sounds like it's coming from an old gramophone.
"Weird."
You fish the key out of the pocket of your jeans and insert it into the slot, turning it carefully. Most hotels these days have key cards — not this one. The lady at the front desk made no apologies for the state of the hotel, only took your money, handed you your key, and sent you on your way.
That night, you call your best friend, Victoria. With your phone pressed against your ear, you stand in front of the open window, curtains fluttering on either side of you like ghosts. The streets of Los Angeles hum beneath you, while the city goes on living without you. You run your finger along the hemmed edge of one of the curtains and heave a sigh.
"Yeah," you say, bringing your hand to your hair to absentmindedly wind a piece of hair around your finger. "I know… but how was I supposed to know that I didn't matter to him?" You pause. "I loved him."
A cold breeze rushes in, sending an uncontrollable shiver down your spine. Your flesh prickles at the feeling, when suddenly, a shadow whizzes by in the corner of your vision. You turn sharply to face it — but are met only with your empty room. "What the fuck?"
On the line, your friend asks what's wrong and if you're okay.
"Yeah… yeah, I'm just… I thought I saw something. It's fine. Anyway…. yeah, well, it still hurts. I can't stop crying about it."
You feel the tears well up as you voice that, and hurriedly chew on the corner of your lip as she speaks, advising you that you need something or someone to get your mind off of him. The idea of a rebound sounds less than ideal, but truthfully, you're up to numbing the pain in whatever way you can.
"I guess so."
You meander over to your baby blue suitcase sitting on the edge of the bed and unzip it, flipping the lid over onto the mattress. With one hand, you rifle through the clothes until you find your pajamas — a matching set of sleep shorts and a button-up top. There are cherries and bows printed all over the fabric.
"I'm going to go to sleep. Maybe order room service, drink a few bottles of champagne, and cry some more."
You hold the phone away from your ear, muffling the shouts of protests from your bestie.
"I'm joking, I'm joking! Fuck, relax…. okay, bye. Love you too."
Ending the call with a tap of your thumb, you toss your phone onto the mattress. With your pajamas draped over your forearm, you head towards the bathroom. As you pass the front door, however, a folded piece of ivory paper slides underneath the door. There's no signature, but it reads:
"Early to bed, and you'll miss all the fun."
You furrow your brow, looking at the penmanship with a peaked curiosity. It looks old-fashioned, the sort of handwriting that you'd see on a vintage French postcard, with lines of unimaginable romance and tenderness. Still, you're unmoved by the invitation. Perhaps someone made a mistake with your room number. You toss the letter in the trash as you enter the bathroom.
After washing your face, you shed your clothes. You'd shower in the morning — you were too tired tonight. As you change, you pause, staring at your naked body, letting your eyes fall over the gentle swell of your breasts, the soft curve of your hips. You wonder passively when you'll be touched again, if ever. You heave a mournful sigh and button the shirt over your breasts before flipping off the light. Every bit of you aches with longing, but there's nothing you can do.
You'd promised Victoria that you wouldn't cry anymore, but as you sit on the velvet seat in front of the mirror to brush your hair, the tears well up in the corners of your eyes again. This would be the first night you had slept alone in years — and the thought terrified you. You'd given up so much for him, done so much for him, only to be tossed away like garbage when something new came along — years of your life, wasted. You reach up and wipe away the hot tears with the backs of your hands, trying to swallow the pitiful sobs that echo against the walls.
What was the sense in crying? Despite that thought, you couldn't help it, and more tears fell.
After a few moments, you lift your wet eyes to the mirror. At first, you think it's some mascara floating amongst the tears, creating imagery that isn't there. Next to your own reflection, a man in a navy pin-stripe suit stands beside you. Although you can't see his face, you suddenly hear his voice as he speaks.
"Exquisite. Your beauty is wasted in sadness, my dear."
You whirl around, searching the room behind you. It's empty. As empty as it had been all night, as empty as you felt. Apprehensively, you turn back around, facing the vanity again. The man still stands beside you. You should scream, but the way that his hand is ghosting over the curve of your shoulder is — not quite touching you, but there's a tenderness in the gesture that sends a shiver down your spine and quiets you. He leans down, hinging at the waist to bring his mouth close to your ear. It's then that you see his features. He's handsome; dark-haired, has a perfectly groomed pencil mustache, and his eyes are so dark, so intense that they're almost black. The longer he stares at you, the heavier his gaze feels, and you shiver.
"Do not waste your sorrows on the undeserving."
You blink hard, forcing a few heavy tears out. When you open your eyes again, the reflection next to you is gone. The room feels colder than before, and smells faintly of smoke — of smoke and that same cologne that you smelled in the corridor. Again, you inhale the rich smell, letting it stain your lungs. It's both comforting and unsettling, you decide.
You sit, stunned, at the vanity. Had you just actually hallucinated? Surely, you weren't going to accept the possibility that you'd just seen a ghost — those didn't exist. Hallucinations, on the other hand, were far more plausible. Especially in your distressed state. You reach underneath the fringed lampshade and turn the light off before straightening up.
You thought you'd dream of your boyfriend — ex boyfriend. Nightmares. But, instead, your dreams are strange. Very strange. Even erotic. They're filled with imagery of that man you saw in the mirror. He's naked, proudly, in front of you. You feel the crushing weight of his desire even as he stands near you, cock rigid and begging for somewhere to sheath itself. He ardently pursues you, touches your face, your neck, your breasts, and grazes over the soft, warm flesh of your thighs. A wet tongue laves over your cunt, parting her and tasting the sweetness that lies within. You arch your back, calling out a name you don't remember upon waking. At one point, you feel the mattress give way to weight. When you open your eyes, there's an indentation in the shape of a body next to you.
As the morning sun filters in through the curtains, you stretch until your muscles shake. Your hands lazily rub the sleep from your eyes, rousing you from your slumber. Surprisingly, you'd slept well. The bed was comfortable, the room was cold all night, and you slept soundly. You're grateful for it.
You blink the fuzziness from your vision, and that's when you notice that the chair is no longer facing the vanity, but instead, angled towards the bed, like someone had been sitting in it, watching you. You're certain that you hadn't left it like that.
Your eyes drift naturally to the mirror — your own reflection meets you, but as your eyes fall, you notice a single red rose rests on the vanity, next to your makeup bag. Your stomach tightens and drops to the floor.
Someone had been in your room.
Someone had been watching you sleep. You knew it. More than that, you felt it.
You push the covers down from your body and crawl over to the edge of the bed, scraping at the vanity until you claw the rose towards you. With a pitiful sigh, you bring it to your nose and inhale its sweet fragrance deeply. Though it has started wilting, the petals are velvet soft and pliable, drooping ever so slightly, the fragrance it holds still fills your lungs.
Romance.
To be longed for… you'd forgotten what that felt like. It had only been a day, but you'd completely forgotten what that felt like.
You drop the rose on the mussed-up sheets and head to the bathroom to ready yourself. Victoria had said that you should explore — and while she'll probably meant downtown LA — you were going to do just that. This aging hotel held secrets, and you were going to find them. After a drink. It didn't matter that it was nearing noon. It was four o'clock somewhere, right?
After showering, albeit nervously, for you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched the entire time, you dress yourself in a simple summer dress and head downstairs and directly to the bar. There was no shame in a little drink, you decide. That's exactly what a blossoming alcoholic would say, Jesus Christ.
The bartender, a very fashionably dressed woman, makes your drink and carries it carefully across to you, setting a napkin beneath it before lowering it down. The black and gold napkins are printed with "Hotel Cortez". Although clearly not the most popular hotel on this stretch of LA street, the branding was on point. The first sip of your martini goes down smooth.
A young, cute guy across the bar smiles at you, raising his glass to you. You return the gesture, and smile softly. Perhaps he was going through a breakup, too. No, you thought. That was silly. He was probably on a business trip. Had a wife to go back to. Something normal. Something sweet. The thought deters you from moving seats to go talk to him.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a well-dressed man as he crosses the room swiftly, heading straight for you. You can't explain why, but you're suddenly feeling like a rabbit caught in the sight of a rifle. As he approaches, it takes you all of those few seconds to realize it's the man you hallucinated last night — a fact that you wouldn't dare admit to him, even as he boldly takes a seat next to you, sliding into it as though he belongs there. Somewhere in your gut, you feel he does.
"Good afternoon," he says.
"Hi." You swirl the liquid in your glass around nonchalantly, like you aren't trembling deep within your core. "Can I help you?"
"I am James March, owner of the hotel in which you so graciously sit." He speaks with such proud diction, enunciating each word carefully. He must be well educated or something. Maybe one of those history buffs.
"Okay…"
For a fleeting second, you see his brow furrow, almost as if he's frustrated that the title didn't immediately grab your attention. You presume that it had so many times before. The expression is gone in an instant and replaced by the cool, collected one he approached you with.
"Though you denied my initial attempts at meeting you, may I be so forward as to say that you, my dear, have taken my breath away by simply existing."
You swallow. That was forward. Your brain stuttered on the first part of that sentence — his initial attempts? What did that mean?
You roll your eyes. "Existing? Is that what I'm doing? I thought I was trying to drown it all out."
You take another sip of your drink, savoring the taste of the alcohol as it bites you back. Next to you, James leans forward, desperately trying to get your attention. He cranes his neck into your line of sight until you turn slightly, bringing your gaze to him, an eyebrow lifted on your forehead.
"Ah, the world can be so loud." Every word from his lips is as smooth as whiskey, dripping with refinement and elegance. You cross one leg over the other, disguising it as a casual movement.
"My dear," he starts, reaching for your hand. You resist, but only briefly. The minute he exerts any force in pulling your fingers from the stem of the glass, you succumb, drowning in the feeling of a man's hand on you again. "I offer relief from it all… from the grating echoes of misery."
"What… what are you talking about?" Your hand is limp in his grasp, allowing him to entangle his fingers with yours.
"In losing him, you have gained me. A true lover, a husband. Love should be rapturous! Fierce! Eternal! I can offer you all that and more!"
You choke on nothing. A husband? In losing him? Had he been listening to your conversation with Victoria?
"Excuse me? I… I don't understand."
"Oh, but you do." He nods earnestly. "You do. The rose enamored you, did it not? Enchanted by your dreams last night? It was destiny, my little turtle dove, that we met."
The world around you feels like it tilts off its axis, though still spinning haphazardly. The feeling is terrifying, and you yank your hand away from him to hold onto the bar with both hands. Your breaths come out in frightened little gasps, and you stare at the remaining liquid in your glass. It's only then that you wonder if your drink was spiked. Or perhaps you were hallucinating again.
"There, there. The realization of destiny is always a crushing feeling, my love. I was foolish in thinking I felt it with my first wife. It doesn't hold a candle to the sensations I feel now! Ardent! Demanding!"
…first wife…
"Say yes, my dear, say yes, and all your troubles will drift away."
You turn to look at him, just for a moment. You stand up from the stool and open your mouth to decline his offer politely, but nothing comes out. Instead, the world tilts the other way, and your body goes limp, crumpling forward into his waiting arms. The last thing you remember is the feeling of your cheek pressing up against his suit jacket, inhaling the intoxicating scent of him, paired with something so antique you couldn't name if you tried. As your lids droop once, twice, three times, you're vaguely aware of the guy at the other end of the bar standing up as you droop into the iron support of James' arms.
You say something — a single word before the world drifts away entirely. You, unfortunately, don't remember what it is.
In your unconscious state, you dream of strange things again. You dream of being woozy and bright and relaxed. You dream of holding his hands briefly, before holding out your own hand. You dream of kissing him tenderly on the mouth and taking hold of his shoulders and dancing with him in an empty ballroom.
When you wake up again, the bar is gone. In fact, the entire scenery has changed. Above you, ornate light fixtures are turned down low, casting a golden hue over the entire room. You're lying horizontal on silk sheets; you can feel them beneath your naked back as you writhe back and forth. You look down at your body fearfully. You'd been undressed without permission. Your ankles are tied to the bedposts, spreading your legs slightly. Similarly, your hands are bound tightly above you.
"Ah, there you are."
Your head snaps in the direction of his voice. He stands at your bedside, his nimble fingers undressing himself steadily. He wears a white, sleeveless undershirt and his trousers, which are quickly pushed down his legs.
"Where… Wh-what… what are you doing?"
"My dear," he starts, stroking his mustache thoughtfully. "Consecrating our beloved union!"
"What?"
James takes another calculated step, nearing the bed. He leans over you, looking deep into your wet eyes with a poignant reverence. He reaches above you, to your right hand, and carefully twists the ring on your finger. You feel the sensation of something there, something substantial that wasn't there before.
Your heart sinks. The dreams were anything but. "N-no, I didn't… I wasn't…. you can't do this… I never… said! Wait, please… oh my god, please…" Your lower lip starts to quiver as you speak, while confused, hot tears stream down your cheeks.
With a small, low vocalization, he kisses your trembling frown. "Now, now. No more of that. My little one, your tears are senseless — you mustn't be ungrateful!"
His cool hands trail down your naked stomach, the middle finger ghosting over the dips and curves of your abdomen. Still hinged at the waist, James allows his mouth to pepper the most darling of kisses in the wake of his fingers, like he's savoring each spot. For a moment before reality slaps you across the face again, you revel in the feeling of being touched, of being treasured. He reaches your mound and continues downwards confidently.
"W-wait wait!"
"Ah." He clicks his tongue. Your cunt, which is on display for him, has betrayed you in ways you'd never imagine. He draws a single finger up between your folds, and you feel no resistance to the action. In fact, you feel quite the opposite of resistance. Arousal that shouldn't be there — hot, sticky arousal.
"You see, my little darling, even you cannot fight love's truest natures."
You want to scream — but what would that do? Your own body has turned any future cries into a joke, into a useless persistence that he'd not believe.
He continues to savor your body. Kisses it, touches it, bites it. Tenderizing it until you're practically coming undone from that alone — and only then does he climb atop of you. His cock head nudges your entrance like a hound's nose in a rabbit's burrow, determined and predatory. You look into his eyes, and find nothing but the indescribable coldness of a mausoleum. You also notice the frightening gash that lines his neck like a collar. The flayed skin opens as he stretches his neck upwards, revealing deep, crimson gore that makes your stomach turn. Surely, a laceration like that would've killed a man.
The thought disappears with a new pressure.
"You were fashioned for me," he says before sliding himself into your wet, aching center. Once inside, he wastes no time. The savoring is over, and his purpose is clear. His thrusts are bullying, and with the intoxicating way he uses you, your body quickly feels like mush in his grip.
He picks up speed suddenly, his cock sliding in and out of your slick, swollen cunt at a dizzying pace. In turn, your moans match his thrusts, coming out in quick, shrill cries as his hips slam against your ass with a vigor that rocks your entire body like a rag doll. Above you, James clenches his jaw and growls deeply. "Mm, how delightfully vulgar you sound! Louder! I want every room in this hotel to hear your cries!"
Your orgasm erupts within seconds, clenching around his cock like a steel vice. Your voice echoes off the walls and rings in your ears. Perhaps marriage isn't so bad — not if it feels like this. With a deep, throaty moan, he loses himself inside of you, and his once-perfect rhythm falls apart.
"Now," he starts. "To finalize our marriage."
You're woozy again, gazing up into his cold, black eyes with a lust-blown softness. His hands trail up the warm column of your still-sweaty throat. They graze the sides of it, lovingly. Your chest heaves with labored breaths.
"I thought about all the ways I could do it, you know…" he continues, not letting you speak. "But strangulation, you see, is the most intimate." Suddenly, his strong hands clamp down on the front of your throat, tightly. Too tightly. Your body lurches upwards, but the weight of his is too much to fight. "Quite literally taking one's last breath from them… Ah, what could be more romantic than that, hm?"
You flail, gripping his bare forearms desperately. The pressure on your throat increases, and the smallest of stars circle your vision. He's going to kill you if he doesn't stop.
Oh god.
He's not going to stop.
You look up at him with pleading eyes and try to choke out words, promises, anything to make him cease his actions, but instead, he tightens his lips into a reassuring smile and softens his gaze for a moment.
Pity? No. Adoration.
Your head is swimmy, your face feels hot. You can feel the blood throbbing in your veins as he continues to strangle you, mercilessly. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air, and all he does is hum above you.
"You're confused, my darling. I know." He presses down harder. Your voice cracks in agony.
"Marriage, delightful fornication, and now I'm killing you?" He clicks his tongue once more. "Seems so contradictory, but I assure you… this is the only way we'll be together, as we are now, until the end."
Your muscles go weak, and your grip on his arms drops off. Your
Your consciousness fades into the cool, looming darkness that surrounds you.
As the light fades from your eyes, he knows that he'll see you again and you him. But you don't.
