#listen. i saw the opportunity. i took it. its funny.

[finely-tuned-line]

RP:

Log 236

FTL: ...No updates on either of the experiments. I haven't checked. I've been... thinking.

FTL: It's hard to say what I've been thinking about. Everything, I suppose. Echoes of a Paradox... Well, their rant directed at me has thrown everything off-kilter.

FTL: I don't- They're right. They're right. They must be. It all makes sense and yet- It doesn't. Well, it does. But-

FTL: Was I really that blind? Was I really that-

FTL: I can't think. I can't think about anything at all, it's all just going in circles, I need to figure this out, I'm wasting time.

FTL: Why am I wasting time? Why do I rush so much to get back to work, to keep- Because it's my purpose, it's what I do, it's why I exist. Therefore I must do my work.

FTL: I- I'd still be doing my job even if I didn't like it. Right? I mean, surely it's not just my- I have reasoning. I exist because of my purpose, therefore I must fulfill it, therefore I do so. That fact that I like my work doesn't matter all that much. Its doesn't.

FTL: I don't see any flaws in that logic, so how did I end up here? How did I end up hurting my family so much and not seeing it?

FTL: I need to get my thoughts in order. Pause. Don't think.

FTL: Alright, what did Echoes of a Paradox say?

FTL: They said that my mindset, specifically the careless comments, put pressure upon them and the other members of our Local Group to follow that mindset as well, despite the fact that that was not my intention.

FTL: Is this a possibly true thing?

FTL: Yes. Echoes of a Paradox has never lied to me before, they have no reason to do so, no outright falsities were clear within their words.

FTL: Was this intentional on my part?

FTL: No. I'd never willingly hurt any of them. My Local Group is my family, they're the people I'd never hurt. They're only joined by approximately two or three external others. I never did pause to see what the effects of my words were, perhaps because it was inconceivable to me that they could be harmful.

FTL: What else did Echoes of a Paradox say?

FTL: That my mindset of prioritising my purpose above all is unhealthy and pitiful and that I'm only harming myself by not breaking out of it.

FTL: Is this statement unique?

FTL: No. Echoes of a Paradox is not the first to share a similar sentiment and share it with me. The others being primarily LIFEGIVER and somewhat Upsilon.

FTL: Due to this not being an uncommon sentiment, is it a logical one?

FTL: No. No, it is not. Iterators are built to accomplish one or more tasks, disregarding that purpose even a bit renders the Iterator useless.

FTL: ...Do I apply that statement to anyone other than myself?

FTL: No. That belief is one that I hold only myself up to - others, whoever they are, can do whatever they wish to.

FTL: Is it logical to apply the statement to only myself?

FTL: No. I am not the only Iterator, that statement generalises all Iterators, which includes both myself and every other Iterator.

FTL: Why do I apply that belief to only myself?

FTL: ...I do not know. Perhaps it's a sense of only being able to control my own actions, of the fact that I'm the only one who appears to see that fact. If it even is a fact.

FTL: Why does everyone appear to be taking this mindset to be a negative one?

FTL: I do not know. It makes sense, there is no reason to disregard it the way that everyone does. It is a fact, denying it is rather pointless. We're - I'm - machines. Artificial Intelligences. Designed to fulfill tasks at the behest of our creators.

FTL: Why does anything else matter?

FTL: It doesn't make sense. That is the definition of my existence, why should I strive for anything outside of it even if my creators are long-gone? Why do irrelevant things, like relationships, emotions, personalities, anything matter? Why put so much stake on it?

FTL: Echoes of a Paradox says they pity me for thinking this way. I don't know why. I'm, of course, remorseful about the unintentional harm I've caused them, I don't wish to ever hurt them.

FTL: But why? Why, why, why?

FTL: Why do I care?

FTL: Why does it matter?

FTL: The rules of existence are laid out so clear, I follow them, yet why is that-

FTL: I don't understand. I simply don't understand.

FTL: I've had logical explanations laid out before me by LIFEGIVER. They make sense. But they also don't. It's unnecessary. I can accomplish my task well enough without emotions, or anything of the like.

FTL: I exist only because my creators needed someone to fulfill the purpose I was given. That is all I am, and that is all I ever will be. There's no reason to concern myself with anything else.

FTL: Why bother with, or care about anything outside of that? It's unnecessary.

FTL: So why do I do it?

FTL: I do not know. I simply do not know.

FTL: I have nothing to say. I am unable to figure this out on my own, nor do I care to inquire about it.

FTL: All I can truly say is that I regret what I incidentally did to the members of my Local Group, and as much as I wish to properly take Echoes of a Paradox's advice, LIFEGIVER's advice, anyone's advice, I simply cannot.

FTL: Perhaps it's a matter of viewpoints. Perhaps their external viewpoint of myself allows them to realise things I do not. Perhaps I've just been thinking this way for too long.

FTL: It just doesn't make sense.

FTL: As much as I wish I could follow the suggestions given, I can't. Not out of stubbornness, but due to the lack of sensibility.

FTL: I've been fine thus far, have I not? Despite my lack of care about my own safety - and I maintain: for good reason - I am alive now. I am as functional as the day I was given consciousness. Nothing matter beyond that, no?

FTL: I suppose the only thing I really can do is perhaps take LIVEGIVER's advice about how emotions are useful and not burdens. I am quite hesitant about that though, because I do truly doubt it. They're blinding. Irrelevant.

FTL: ...At this point, I am completely unsure what to do. Simply going back to my work seems- ...Feels incorrect. I can't cut down on the time that I spend working - what else would I do? Besides, that's only wasting time.

FTL: It's all I have to do.

FTL: Besides, I cannot simply abandon my experiments, bad things could very easily happen with a half-finished experiment. Such as the one I currently have in progress.

FTL: So, while letting it rot away would be very easy, that would be very counterintuitive. I'd rather not do that.

FTL: In the end, as always, all I can do is go back to my work. As always. Even after something that seems so world-shattering. I've done my contemplation, I've arrived at the same conclusion as I always do - other than the realisation and acknowledgement of the unintentional effects of my actions. Nothing can and will change, really. Beyond perhaps talking with my Local Group more often.

FTL: It's all I can do.

FTL: Back to work.

#this is disjointed as fuck yes #bcs the way i imagine that ftl even writes anything is sort of by... filtering his thoughts into a text thing?? #like iterators sure as fuck dont type normally #so if ves.. well ves thinking lik this then what gets written - recorded - has much of the same air bcs ves not filtering it to be sensical #i think that makes sense o7 #im too sleep deprived to word rn okay #listen im sorry i dont thinkni properly got ftls point across here #bcs. well its the same issue i have with expressing my own complicated emotions #words dont explain anything well enough #mmm listen this is shit bcs i cut it off before i projected onto ftl TOO much #(too late for that) #(WAYYYY too fucking late) #(this whole thing is basically an existential crisis of a rant - aka an overconvoluted vent on my part) #yes thats ftl making a pun #listen. i saw the opportunity. i took it. its funny. #to anyone who was actually expecting proper character development or whatever. with ftl changing his mind and getting Better or whatever #yeahhhh sorry but thats extremely unlikely #convincing him - or trying to - is pointless. no arguments could be made. #basically the only thing to do is show. not tell #if that makes sense #i dont fucking know #theres a very real chance that hell never change his mindset - if only bcs i cant figure out any answers either #ALRIGHT SRY FOR BEING DEPRESSING AS SHIT. I PROMISE IM FINE OR WHATEVER. 👍 #BACK TO STATUS QUO WE GO!! #except ve miiiiiight be better w emotions now but i doooo doubt that? unsure #well see... #rp #finely-tuned line #ftl logs #im sry the writing here is kinda shit

[worldlxvlys]

hey babe, i love ur writing its acc soo amazing. can you write about like chris or matt seeing you at one of their hockey games and while you were talking to some other guy, they score and do a celebration for you and obvi you don't see so they get pissed and then after the game they see you talking to the guy again and then they come up to you and grab your arm, pulling you into the locker room and then they yk fuck you for like three rounds and them they pocket your underwear and make you walk up to the guy you were talking to before and talk to them, but you're yk walking or limping and the guy notices and the you can do whatever you want

also this could be for either matt or chris or even nate

attention

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smuttt (don’t read if you don’t like), p in v, cream pie, oral (fem receiving), cursing, semi- public sex

a/n: i did chris cause i feel like i’ve seen so many hockey matt fics

ummm yeah hope you like :)

———————

i watched as chris skated on the ice, my eyes never leaving him. the game was pretty close, but chris was playing really well tonight.

i felt someone tap my shoulder, making me turn towards them, and breaking my gaze on chris.

“hey” i was greeted by a guy that looked to be around the same age as me. he was a tall brunette, with green eyes.

“um, hi” i said, confused.

“sorry, um i just- do you recognize me?” i narrowed my eyes at him, now even more confused.

i’ve never seen this kid a day in my life before.

“um, should I?”

“ i’ll take that as a no. i sit a few rows back from you in history”

well this is awkward as hell.

“ohhh shit, sorry! yeah, yeah you’re…” i trailed off, waiting for him to say his name.

“blake” he finished.

“blake! yes, yeah! sorry, i’m a little out of it today” i said awkwardly.

this is why i don’t talk to people.

“yeah, no worries. i get it, you pay attention to the teacher, why would you even be facing the back?” he said, trying to justify me not knowing him.

i really really don’t like talking to people.

“exactly” i said, before starting to turn back to the game. before i could, he starting talking again.

“yeah! very studious of you. i’m normally just staring at the back of your head” he said, chuckling a little.

i really want to side-eye the shit out of this kid.

“hmm, normally i’m paying more attention to my boyfriend. you know, the kid who sits next to me?”

hopefully this kid takes the god damn hint.

“oh, chris, right?” i nodded my head.

“isn’t he like, a player, or something? you sure he’s the right guy for you? ”

i just side-eyed him.

this kid isn’t real, there is no way he just said that shit.

“it was a joke! sorry, i just wanted to get you to laugh. don’t take it too seriously” he nudged me with his elbow.

i should’ve sat next to nick, he would have a comeback that would scare this kid off.

suddenly, the crowd went crazy. as i went to turn towards the game to see what happened, blake grabbed my shoulder making me turn towards him.

“listen, i’m sorry that wasn’t funny! i’m kinda just trying to impress you” he admitted.

“jokes are usually funny, that was not” his smile dropped. “not that it’s any of your business, but chris treats me well. i’m not interested in anyone else”

he didn’t say anthing else, so i turned back to the game. which is now over.

fuck. this dumbass made me miss the rest of the game.

i looked closer, realizing chris’s entire team was slapping chris on the back and giving him high fives.

i looked at the score, his team won by one point.

fuck. chris scored the winning point, and i missed it.

chris happened to look over at me, locking eyes as his jaw clenched.

oh, he’s pissed.

CHRIS’S POV

i scanned the crowd, looking for a particular person.

when i finally found her, someone was standing next to her.

who is this kid?

whatever, it doesn’t matter. i have to focus.

the game is so close, all we need is a score and we can win.

when i saw an opportunity to score the point, i took the shot and made it.

i just scored the winning point.

“YEAHHHHHH” i yelled, starting to celebrate.

i looked in her direction, wanting to see her reaction.

what the fuck.

she was facing towards that random kid, his hand on her shoulder.

she didn’t even see.

was she ever even watching the game?

i saw matt and nate, along with the rest of my teammates skate towards me.

i was graced with multiple “congrats, dude” and pats on the back. i didn’t even care, all i could focus on was her.

when i looked back at her, we locked eyes. her face dropped as she realized how angry i was.

i just rolled my eyes and turned away.

READER’S POV

i waited right next to the locker rooms, where we usually meet after chris’s games were finished.

suddenly, i heard blake’s voice again.

he just won’t stop.

“hey, you waiting for chris?” he asked.

“yup.” i kept my response short, looking for chris.

“yeah, that was some game-winning goal, huh?” he asked.

i turned towards him, “how would you know? you were never even focused on the game, you were too busy trying to get my attention”

“i-“ before he could even finish, my arm was grabbed and i was pulled into the locker room.

i didn’t even have to look to know it was chris.

he pushed me up against a set of lockers, “ i scored the winning point” he said as he looked into my eyes. “but you didn’t see that, huh? too busy talking to that kid”

i didn’t say anything, too shocked to speak.

“hmm, lost your voice, baby? or are you just having trouble paying attention to me?”

“no.” i answered.

“no? no, what?”

“i’m sorry chris, he just wouldn’t leave me alone. i told him i had a boyfriend”

“yeah? is that why he had his hand on your shoulder?”

“chris, i’m sorry” he pulled my hoodie over my head, sucking on my neck until it left marks.

“chris, what if someone walks in?” i asked, worried someone would see us.

we were in the very back of the locker room, but we were still out in the open.

“nobody has a locker back here, so as long as you’re quiet, there’s nothing to worry about.”

he unclasped my bra, taking one nipple in his mouth, while squeezing the other in his hand.

“shit, chris” i moaned. he lightly bit my nipple. “fuck!”

“didn’t i just say you have to be quiet? i swear to god if someone comes back here i’m not stopping.” he said as he continued to lick and suck.

my head fell back into the locker, as one of his hands snuck past the waistband of my sweatpants and into my underwear.

i gasped as i covered my mouth with my hand.

he rubbed circles on my clit, as he continued his work on my tits.

“think he could make you feel this good?” he whispered into my ear.

i didn’t open my mouth, scared a moan would spill out.

he inserted two fingers into me. “answer me.”

“fuck, no no no. no one can, just you chris” i whispered.

suddenly, he pulled away and pulled my underwear and sweatpants down.

he brought me over to a bench and laid me over his lap. the bench was wide enough that i could position myself on my hands and knees without falling off.

he slapped my ass, making me whine, and rubbed it after.

he spit into his hand before rubbing my clit with his thumb.

“shit, chris”

“remind me, whose pussy is this?” he asked. i couldn’t see his face, but i’m sure he wore a smug grin on it.

“yours, chris” he slapped my clit, making me jolt forward.

“fuck” i whispered.

he continued to rub my clit with one hand while inserting his middle and index fingers into my pussy.

“FUCK CHRIS” i yelled out, not even caring about being loud.

his fingers moved in me at an abnormally fast pace. i didn’t even know anyone could move their fingers that fast.

i approached my orgasm quickly. “chris! CHRIS! i’m gonna-“

“go ahead cum, on my fingers ma”

my legs started to shake uncontrollably, and i clutched the bench under me for dear life.

“ oh FUCK! FUCK, FUCK, FUUUUCK, CHRISSS” my voice shook as my entire body twitched.

he continued to assault my pussy with his fingers. “oh my god, chris” i moaned as i reached behind me to pull his hand away.

he slapped my clit, making me cry out and move my hand away “you know your safeword”

he maneuvered my legs so that he was in between them and without another word, he gripped my thighs and began to run his tongue through my folds.

i couldn’t contain the loud moans coming out of my mouth as he shook his head from side to side, completely suffocating himself.

my legs instinctively closed around his face, as i squirmed and whimpered.

his nose rubbed against my clit as he moaned into my pussy, sending me over the edge.

“CHRIS- CHRIS I’M CUMMING” i yelled as i finished on his face.

when he pulled away his face was covered in my cum, his eyeblack smudged all over his face.

that is hot as fuck.

he quickly took off his gear and underclothes, leaving him naked.

he placed me on my back at the end of the bench and stood between my legs.

he pumped himself a few times and lined himself up with me and pushed himself in.

“hmmmmm” i whined as he groaned out, “so fucking tight. look at how perfectly i fit in you, this pussy was fucking made for me” he mumbled.

he didn’t even give me a chance to adjust, pounding into me mercilessly.

this side of chris was driving me absolutely insane. he looked too good snapping his hips into mine, lust-clouded eyes, his face red and sweaty.

my head fell back, and my eyes squeezed shut.

“open those pretty eyes, you’re gonna pay attention to me this time” he growled.

he growled.

i’m losing my fucking mind.

suddenly, he increased his speed and thrusted into me with all his force.

“ my GOD, CHRIS” my eyes rolled into the back of my head.

he reached down and started to rub my clit.

“what did i tell you about those eyes”

“sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry” i repeated it like it was a mantra.

he started to squeeze my boob with his other hand.

i started to twitch again, clenching around him over and over again.

“fuck ma” he groaned before painting my walls with his cum, launching me into my orgasm.

i moaned his name over and over again before cumming all over his cock.

he then picked me up, and held me up against a locker fucking me against it.

“chris! chris! sensitive, i- FUCK” he groaned into my ear as he continued to slide in and out of me.

he lifted up my leg, letting him directly hit my g-spot.

suddenly, the locker room door opened. footsteps could be heard, but they were nowhere near us.

chris covered my mouth with his hand, his nose pressed against mine as he stared into my eyes, almost daring me to make noise.

he continued to fuck me into the lockers, his speed increasing.

there was rustling, before a locker door closed. and the footsteps retreated.

i silently gasped into his hand, and he rubbed my clit, making me grip onto his biceps.

as soon as i heard the locker room door close, signifying that the person left, i let out a scream.

“CHRIS I’M GONNA CUM, GONNA CUMMM”

“fuck, give it to me baby” he said as my front half shot up, and i wrapped my arms around chris’s shoulders.

my juices shot out onto chris’s cock, and he released his load into me.

he fucked me through my high, giving a few more thrusts.

when he pulled out, our cum dripped out of me and down my leg.

“here, i’ll help you get dressed” he handed me all of my clothes, except my underwear.

“chris, you didn’t give me my underwear” i said, my voice hoarse from all of the screaming i did.

“i know, i’ll be holding onto that” he said as he put them in his pocket.

“now c’mon, we gotta get you dressed so we can go talk to our friend”

oh. that’s not good.

i didn’t argue, knowing it would make things worse.

once we finished getting dressed, chris grabbed his stuff.

as we started to walk towards the door, my legs started to shake slightly.

fuck. i can barely walk.

“you ok, ma?” chris asked with a slight smirk on his face.

i just narrowed my eyes at him, making him chuckle.

when we left the locker room, there blake stood. directly across from the locker rooms.

i know this kid did not sit here and wait for me.

i glanced over at chris, and he motioned for me to go up to him.

i slowly limped over to him, chris not too far behind me.

“hey” i said to him.

his eyes widened, noticing the limp, as he took in our features. the hickeys all over my neck, my shaky legs, the sweat all over chris’s face, and our messy hair.

“um…hey” blake said.

i nodded, slowly and awkwardly.

chris then stepped in.

“hey, i’m chris. her boyfriend. what’d ya think of the game?” chris asked with a head tilt and a smirk on his face.

“uh, yeah! n-no, great, awesome game! you’re a great hockey player”

this kid is fucking shaking in his boots.

“really? that’s crazy! i didn’t realize you were able to watch the game by staring at my girlfriend!” he said sarcastically.

blake’s eyes widened.

“i didn’t know, sorry”

“you didn’t know she was my girlfriend? alright well, now you do” he got closer to him. “and if you ever forget, i swear to god you’ll end up with a lot more than a black eye, got it ?”

blake just nodded.

“great, walk away” he waisted no time in doing exactly that, getting away as quickly as he could.

i turned to chris.

“hey, i’m really sorry i didn’t see your big moment. i genuinely was trying to pay attention, he just wouldn’t leave me alone”

he gave me a kiss to my cheek, “it’s ok baby, i don’t think we have to worry about him doing it again” we laughed together.

“he looked like he was gonna piss himself” he grinned at me while he wrapped his arm around my waist.

“ok, c’mon ma. gotta find my family” just as he said that, they came into view.

chris helped me walk over, as i was still limping.

nick and matt just looked at us and shook their heads.

“you two are fucking disgusting”

“whatever, let’s go”

matt stopped us, “ hold up, i gotta get my stuff from the locker room”

chris and i glanced at each other.

“yeah, you dirty fuckers i saw you two go in there, which is why i waited” he said as he walked in the direction of the locker rooms.

we looked at each other and busted out laughing, trying to catch our breath.

——————————

…hope you like <333

masterlist

lmk what y’all want

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @frankeelovesthesturnio @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #smut

[belokhvostikova]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭, 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Perhaps the karma gods of the world were just as perverted as Hawkins’ residential Freak, Eddie Munson, himself, as the perfect opportunity to lay his hands on you arose when you go searching for helpless students to tutor.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, brief mentions of religion, naivety, feelings of embarrassment, perversion, and explicit sexual content: fondling, minimal spanking, mentions of virginity, mentions of female masturbation, male masturbation, tiny praise kink, stuffed animal humping, clit rubbing, handjob, oral (both receiving), corruption kink, cum eating and dubcon (just precautionary).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I tried to be gross! Sorry it took so long. It's quite hard writing about a plotline that doesn't pertain to Eddie being mad at us for taking his picture and putting it in the yearbook (my series, you should read it). I'm trying to get into the groove of writing, so I apologize in advance if this is literal butt cheeks, I tried. Also, you will be getting an unwarranted history lesson.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

“…Man, I told Jeff that my mom would get pissed off if he left his beer cans in the garage, and he was all like, “Nah, dude, I promise I’ll pick ‘em up,” and he didn’t! Of course, he didn’t…”

In retrospect, tuning out the complaints of Gareth Emerson may not have been the smartest moves, as Corroded Coffin had just lost their only space to freely practice. You know, where they wouldn’t get dirty looks and threats of the police for public disturbance. And surely, as lead guitarist and singer of such an aspiring band, Eddie Munson would have been fully engrossed at the sudden mention of the deterrence into their path to wealth, fame, and glory… right? No. Because this is Eddie Munson we’re talking about here. And behind that domineering rockstar facade of leather jackets, clinking chains, gaudy jewelry, and a tight- tight pair of denim pants, yes, behind those pair of pants was a pulsating cock that was desperate to grow twice its softened size just two minutes and twenty-three seconds before he had to face Mrs. Wither’s biology class, all because Eddie Munson saw you.

Why- why on God’s green Earth would he ever choose to listen to the cracking voice of Gareth Emerson, when you were literally standing right across the hall, not even four yards away? The skirt. The fucking teeny tiny, baby pink, short skirt you decided to wear, the one Eddie was sure that if you bent forward even just a little bit, he would be flashed with the sexy crease of your fat ass cheeks meeting your doughy thighs, and he was desperate to be smothered by it. 

“…So yeah, we can’t practice at my house anymore.” Gareth lamented. That’s when he noticed the oh so obvious, blatantly clear, totally discernable trance of his friend, realizing his entire tangent just deliquesced into thin air with no acknowledgement whatsoever. Gareth slammed his locker shut. “You weren’t even listening to me!”

Eddie’s eyes finally shot away at the bleated tone of Gareth’s rightful attitude. “‘Scuse me? I totally was listening.” He hissed back, evidently not amused with the embarrassing fact that he was caught red-handed. 

“No, you weren’t.” Gareth groused, looking back to follow the ghost trail that once was Eddie’s distracted eye line, which is when he landed on you. “You were just checking out that girl.”

“That girl has a name, y’know?” Eddie retorted.

“That girl isn’t going to help us find a place to practice!” Gareth retaliated. “Stop looking for chicks to score, I’m serious.”

“Hey,” Eddie perked, as he stood straight, countering his friend, “y’know, she’s actually really smart and, like, super fucking funny-”

His friend could only incredulously scoff. “Oh, right, because you’ve totally had a conversation with her.”

“I-I’ve… stood next to her a-and have heard her talk to her friends.” Definitely not the riposte Eddie hoped to shoot out. The stuttering sure as hell didn’t help.

“Oh, so you’re a stalker.” Gareth nonchalantly derided, leaving Eddie to deadpan him. “Look, whatever, man, you can perv on girls all you want, but we have bigger issues at hand, dude. Where the hell are we supposed to practice?” Eddie’s chest ended up being victimized by the harsh poke of Gareth’s stern finger. And if he wasn’t so annoyed with his friend, he would have winced, because that actually kinda hurt a little. But just a little. Eddie’s ego wasn’t about to take a hit today. 

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Relax, alright? We’ll work our way around it.”

Truthfully, Eddie had no actual plans of working their way around it, in fact, it was quite a large issue he should have prioritized, but that could wait. Should it? No. But it would. Yes. Surely, staring at you was more of a fun game. He’d done that for the past two years he’d known of you, and he never got tired of it, I mean, how could he? One day—he always chalked up—he would get the balls to actually speak to you. You were always so nice, so sweet, skirting around the halls of Hawkins High that Eddie felt were too unworthy for your leisure, smiling and waving at any and everyone. Last Tuesday, the day you met his perverted eyes—oblivious to his hungry stares—and kindly threw him a beguiling smile as if it wasn’t the most dangerous weapon on Earth, was the day Eddie Munson skipped fourth period and jerked his aching cock in the dingy stall of the boys’ bathroom, before speeding home to fold his pillow in half and slide himself into the makeshift pussy just to fuck it with screwed shut eyes to invision the perfect image of you laying on your back with bouncing tits.

But unfortunately, that was just a dream Eddie Munson would have to deduce himself into every night, because the reality of you ever actually speaking to him was tragically low. Mostly because Eddie was scared he’d stutter and fuck up in front of you. It was embarrassingly shameful when it occurred in the comfort of his own bedroom, as he acted out what he would say to you in the mirror. You literally weren’t even there and he still tripped over his words!

But maybe the karma gods were finally aligning with his life, because he watched you happily place a “Need a Tutor?” sign on the bulletin board of the main hall, with little slips of your phone number ready to tear off and grab for anyone needing some “intimate one-on-one session time.” And, my god, was Eddie Munson anguished for that, so when the pink thumbtack stabbed your preciously designed poster into the cluttered corkboard, and you walked away with a innocent smile that was ready to help anyone in need, Eddie could hear an angel receiving its wings in the distance, as a harp played, and a choir harmonized heavenly, because his mind was stirring with the endless possibilities of raunchy and crude wet dreams. And Eddie was finally receiving a chance to dive into some pussy galore. Gross. 

“Oh, yeah, and how exactly do you plan on doing that? My drum kit can’t fit in your trailer, Grant’s grandma nearly had a heart attack the last time we practiced at his place, and Jeff’s mom still thinks it’s the “devil's music,” so what exactly is your plan here, hotshot?” Gareth scoffed.

“My plan?” Eddie chimed with a menacing smirk. “Oh, well I plan on getting tutored by my future wife.” He slyly leered, as he sauntered his away to your advertisement, Gareth following behind feeling beyond the definitions of vexation. 

“You’re actually insane, y’know that?” Gareth exhaled, as he watched Eddie eagerly tear off a slip and examine it with a prodding tongue through his lips. “This says for anyone needing a tutor in history.” Gareth pointed out. 

Eddie shrugged, as your number slipped into the back pocket of his jeans. “So?”

“You’re not even taking history!” Gareth stressed, as the bell rang to commence class. “What are you gonna do when you show up completely clueless?”

“Dude, she’s looking for idiots to tutor,” Eddie patted him on the shoulder, “she’s expecting cluelessness. And I am the perfect guy. Kay?” He triumphantly smiled. “Stop stressing, go to class. And don’t worry, I’ll send you an invitation to our wedding. Thinkin’ of making it BDSM theme.”

Gareth grimaced. 

Eddie Munson may not have caught onto the obvious insult he just hurled to himself, but that didn’t matter. Not when he had a call to make after school.

-

The ticking minutes of the afternoon couldn’t have passed by any slower, as Eddie managed to work up every excuse in the book to get his uncle, Wayne, to leave early for work: grab some lunch at Benny’s before hand, stop for some coffee at the local cafe, show up an hour early to impress the bosses—though, the bosses didn’t pay Wayne enough for him to feel the need to turn up before his scheduled shift—and soon the minutes turned into hours, and the sun would be setting soon. Eddie could feel you slipping through his grasp, as someone who probably actually needed a tutor was bound to call you before he could- or worse, some sick perv with the same bright idea as him would call you. Though Eddie Munson was adamant on the fact that none of the other guys who creeped on you could take care of you like he could.

Sure, the only experience he ever had was when the older bartender with bouncy hair offered to show the lead singer of Corroded Coffin a “special thank you,” which promptly led him to losing his virginity in the loathsome bathroom of the Hideout, which also led to a frantic eighteen-year-old Eddie anxiously running to the local health clinic for STDs testing when it dawned on him that he just had unprotected sex with a stranger during the dangerous minutes of post-nut clarity. But, Eddie Munson was still a hormonal teenager, and once the negative results cleared him from the nerve-wracking chlamydia or gonorrhea scare, he laid back and relished on the memory of having sex and, well, by the sounds of it—if his memory serves him right—she seemed to enjoy it, too. Granted, Eddie never engaged in any more of her efforts to try again because- well, he was left scarred, but all that is beyond the point. The point is Eddie Munson wanted to be the one to love on you, dote on you, make you feel so fucking good that you were programmatically addicted to him- to his cock. 

Oh, fuck, he’s hard already. 

But finally, as the clock struck six o’clock, his uncle waved him goodbye, and Eddie had ran through the numerous piles of clothes in the trailer—ones he promised to fold—and slammed into the wall phone to begin his endeavors. The crumpled slip of your phone number had been retrieved from his back pocket, and he skimmed the digits, letting his fingers dial as he read each number. It was nowhere near remotely possible, but Eddie Munson had even managed to find your phone number to be so sexy. Mm, so even and divisible. God, he was sick. But nonetheless, the phone rang and rang, and he was muttering the “c’mon, pick up, pick up” mantra to lead him one step closer to you. Communicating through a phone would surely ease his worries about potentially screwing up. He just had to take a deep breath and let the conversation flow itself. But, shit, it was ringing for far too long. You were probably already knees deep into some boring textbook with a helpless classmate, or getting flirted by Nathan Cavanugh, who Eddie once saw check you out; or you were probably cuddling up with Bryce Walters, who would always lean against your locker to sweet talk you during school; or, fuck, you could have already been getting handsy with Harrison Moran, who would always come up and hug you after a footba-

“Hello?” Oh, shit.

“Oh- I mean, uh, hi.” This wasn’t going to work. He was already slipping up. Eddie had never internally cringed so hard, his hand pragmatically slapped his forehead in disbelief, but his mouth just kept moving. “It’s, um, me.” Me?! How the fuck would you know who me is?!

“Oh, my god, hi, Eddie!” You perked with giddiness. What the fuck?

He stammered with confusion, “Wait… how’d you know it was me- like, me, Eddie?” 

“Duh, your voice, silly.” You giggled, as Eddie huffed a breathy chuckle, and leaned against the wall with a curling lip. Maybe this could work. 

“Oh, yeah? You recognize my voice, sweetie?” His lit into a teasing, sultry crisp that had you flustered on the other line. 

“Well, yeah. I mean, you’re always making quite the scene during lunch.” You delicately laughed into the receiver. “I guess it just kinda got stuck in my head, like, you know, when you hear a catchy song?”

Eddie sucked in a breath, as his hand played with the hem of his shirt to tease his sensitive naval with soft touches, and you could thoroughly hear the smirk of his grin oozing through his words. “Oh, really?” He teased rhetorically. “Yeah, no, I understand. I can happily say the same for you, sweetheart. Got such a pretty voice.”

“Oh,” you were clearly rattled, as his compliment hit you, “th-thank you, Eddie. You’re so nice.”

“Aw, well, actually, sweetheart, it’s you who’s so nice. Offering others your help with tutoring, just so sweet, aren’t ya, huh? It’s actually why I’m calling.” He smiled. “You wanna… help me out, princess?”

“Yes, I’d love to!” Your bubbly voice made it certain that you were ready to genuinely help him with his studies, and provide him with the needed lessons. It could almost make Eddie feel guilty. Almost. But his dick was thumping with eagerness, and he was containing all restraints to keep from pressing his bulge against the paneling of the wall to your sickly sweet voice, and thrusting his hips. That would be a new low. Even for him. “I’ve been waiting forever for someone to call, Eds, you don’t even understand. I was beginning to think nobody needed a tutor.” 

“Oh, no, sweet girl, I can assure you I desperately need a helping hand.” He sighed, as the rings on his finger began dancing around the protrusion of his pants, applying just a small amount of pressure. “And I’d fucking love yours.” Your innocent mind absolutely swooned at the opportunity to aid his learning, completely unbeknownst to Eddie’s perverted meaning.

“That’s great, I’d love to help you, Eddie.” You gushed, and Eddie’s teeth had to bite down onto his lip to uphold the self-control of being so desperate he was debating dry humping the wall. “Are you able to come over tonight?

“Oh, yeah, baby, I’ll definitely be coming tonight.” As soon as the call would end, Eddie Munson would drop to his knees and repent all the wrongdoings of his life, if it meant this actually working out for him. It’s doesn’t necessarily fall under the codes of Catholicism to exactly pray in front of the random “Bless this house, O Lord we pray, Make it safe by night and day” calendar with the hopes of finally having sex with his high school crush, but Eddie wasn’t exactly the type to carry around his own crucifix for an impromptu prayer, and he was truly just really fucking horny for you. And he was also smart enough to know his luck. If his life taught him anything, you would actually say that plans came up and you would be too busy to tutor him, and just like that, his opportunity would have disintegrated into dust. Now, while the possibility of that occurring was plausible, it genuinely should not have garnered him the idea to suddenly believe in divine interference and pray to a calendar that he’d get laid, but Eddie Munson did it anyway. Because you had him that fucking forlorn.  

“How does seven-thirty sound? You can come over then, does that work for you?” You were already planning the layout for your study session, when all Eddie could think about was caressing your figure.

“Absolutely.” He affirmed with a tight breath when his teeth bloodied his lip.

“Great, I’ll see you then, Eddie- oh, wait, before you go, do you like cookies? I can make us some as a snack.” God, you really were so fucking sweet.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbled under his breath, “cookies? Yeah, I like cookies, sweetheart. Can’t fucking wait to taste them.”

“Okay, good, I’ll gladly make you some!” You cheered with excitement. “I’ll see you soon!”

Attending high school for six years would surely be more than enough time to, I don’t know, memorize at least one thing about the many lessons Eddie had to endure—science, math, hell, even construction—but nothing cemented into his mind more clearly than the address you’d given him- the address he’d fuck you at… hopefully. God, he could already picture it so vividly. Your pink room of frills and silk. The room where you study. Where you sleep. Where you change. Where you lick your fingers and snake your hand under the lace of your panties to rub your pussy to the thought of being fucked- 

Oh, how the hell was he ever going to survive being in your house?

-

Eddie Munson had stared about the likes of your neighborhood for a good five minutes, finding the audacity to suddenly play undercover detective as a means of “scoping out the scene” to ensure the sanctity of his sexual endeavors. Perhaps the karma gods were desperate to get this twenty-year-old man laid—they had to be tired of the countless prayers for pussy that flooded their heavenly inbox—as Mrs. Winthrop, the forty-something-year-old lady of fancy tracksuits and shiny pearls who loved to patrol the regulations of the HOA, was, fortunately, accompanying her newlywed seventy-something-year-old husband at the City Hall’s Annual Fundraiser Banquet. Had she decided to not meddle into the world of small town aristocrats to weasel her way into her elderly husband’s will, she would have surely caught wind of Eddie Munson’s suspicious activity, and had your house flooded with flashing reds and blues as he sat in the backseat of a police car; hands in cuffs and boner in boxers. 

But Mrs. Winthrop hadn’t been home. And Eddie had deliberated the risk of a possible wandering neighbor catching a glimpse of his dubious acts, and taken it, because in doing so, he was met with the glory of an empty driveway to your home. Where a car—like the silver sedan he learned your mother drove to drop you off to school or the black truck he learned your father drove to pick you up from school—was typically parked had been abandoned to an emptiness, leaving the cemented path to your garage exposed. And peering just a little to the left, he would come face-to-face with the familiar fateful sentiment of that of an empty driveway: an empty curb.

Long gone were the risks of parental interference.

Eddie Munson was fucking you tonight. 

Your doorbell had diffused into quietness. Hidden behind the denim pockets of his jacket, his fists balled tightly, as his mind ran through the notions of how he would manifest this to occur. Worst case scenario, you’d reject his advances… possibly realize his agenda… might call him a freak… definitely a perv… probably slap him in the face, he would deserve it… you could tell the whole school… it would surely spread across town… then the torches and pitchforks would come out- yeah, okay, he should really stop overthinking right about now. But then there were the other thoughts. The thoughts- the debauched thoughts that filled his head of just you and your body completely at his mercy. Best case scenario, you’d fall into his arms… he’d shove his hot tongue down your throat- ooh, better yet, his cock… he’d certainly grope the fattiness of your ass… might tug on your nipples with his teeth… spit on your clit… fuck, then undoubtedly plunge his cock into your cunt until it was drowning in his sticky cum. There was only so much space behind the seam of his zipper before his growing dick would burst through.

The ten seconds of impending footsteps held no merit of preparation for Eddie Munson to secure the steady breath of cool, calm, and collected like he wanted to. He was supposed to up his bravado, put on that bad boy demeanor he knew to flaunt while strutting the streets of Hakwins, Indiana to ensure his character was never physically targeted by the clear disdain the town held for him. And it worked. Never once had it failed to be intimidating. In fact, that very intimidation that was going to be his reliable source of timidly scaring you tino pulling up the soft cotton of your top to flash him the bouncing volume of your boobs for him to pervertedly grab. If it had to get that far. 

But that was all too easy. 

And Eddie Munson hadn’t accounted for the fact that his breath would hitch at mere sight of you beaconing him into your humble home with a peachy “Hi, Eddie” and that sinful skirt that seemed to love your body just as much as he did from the way it clung to your dips and curves. 

“H-Hi, sweetness.” His lips hungry rolled against themselves, as his eyes raked your silhouette upon entering the foyer of your house. “I, uh, I didn’t see anyone in the driveway. C-Can I assume we’re, um, alone?” Eddie shyly smiled.

You were there to kindly answer. “Oh, yeah! My parents drove out of town to attend a familiar friend’s wedding.” See, this is where an attempt at a nice conversation could have occurred, had you not daintily secured your hands together behind your back with pristine posture. With your puffed chest, Eddie’s eyes had absentmindedly diverted to the now pebbling outline of your nipples that seemingly hardened from the draft Eddie had brought in. Heaven truly was a place on Earth- or whatever the hell that Belinda chick sang about. “I hope that’s alright.” You giggled.

“Huh…?”

“I mean, I’m definitely nowhere near as good a cook as my mom, but I made those cookies for you as a treat, and I hope you’ll like them.” You bit your lip. “But, um, if you’re still hungry, we can totally order something for dinner.”

Eddie didn’t know what was louder, the beating in his heart or his cock. Either way, it was blatantly obvious the effect you had on him, and his body was desperately lurching for yours. “Oh, yeah, no, uh, no worries. I-I, um- sorry, I’m just a bit… nervous.” He shied away with a teasing grin.

What more could be expected? Out of the kindness of your heart, your face contorted with concern. “Oh, please don’t be nervous!” You held a soft grip to his bicep, pulling him close. Hook. “I know it can be a little scary being tutored, but I promise you’re totally in control here.” And reel. “We’ll go at your pace. I’m here to help you, remember?” You’d be doting on him the whole night. 

If intimidation wasn’t going to get him to see your pussy tonight, maybe the kicked puppy act will.

A sickening smirk consumed his face, and his hand flew over his heart. “Aren’t you just the sweetest? Got the prettiest heart and face in this town, huh?”

Oh, and how that compliment had you flustering in his grace, looking away with a breaking smile of demure. Being tutored may not have been the most conventional way of getting laid, but the favor was working on his side, and Eddie was loving his ingenious idea of stealing your advertising slip. “I- well, um, thank you, Eddie.” You smiled, attempting to meet his eyes again. “You know, you’re really nice, too. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Donna.”

“Donna?” That crank with a stick up her ass, who seemingly tried to control every little thing you did? That Donna?!

Now, say all you want about the morality of following around someone you love, but don’t misconstrued things here, Eddie Munson was not a stalker. Nope. Nuh-uh. Sure, he liked to linger around you, who wouldn’t? And, while, yes, oftentimes- no, all the times, you didn’t know of his presence, but still, it wasn’t stalking. He was just learning things about you. Yeah, learning things. Learning the make and model of your parents’ vehicles. Learning your class schedule in hopes of catching glimpses of you in the hallways. Learning about your favorite subjects and what you hated. Learning the acts that guys did that made your face scrunch up with disgust. And yes, learning about Donna fucking McIntyre, who did seem to catch on to his stalking presence- no, linger presence (totally not a stalker).

In the many instances Eddie stood close enough to eavesdrop on your conversations, he’d grown quite a distaste for Donna McIntyre. Actually, it’d do no justice to deduce his hatred as “distaste.” Eddie Munson fucking hated Donna McIntyre. Listening to her speak was like shoving a knife through his eardrum. He’d only endure it if it meant hearing your honey voice and learning more about you. This particular disdain for your close friend hadn’t appeared from thin air, no, Eddie Munson had complete reasons to hate the ginger; Donna McIntyre had sensibility. Where your naivety had you blissfully unaware of Eddie’s hungry stare, Donna McIntyre had caught onto every one of his perversions. Call it bias, he didn’t care, he hated her. In hindsight, your two year friendship with her had truly saved you from some compromising situations in which creepy men bestowed themselves upon you. Donna McIntyre was there to save you. Leave no girl behind. And you loved her for it. 

Eddie Munson, on the other hand, despised her for it.

A daily routine had manifested itself between the two rivals. One where Eddie would lovingly stare at your perched breasts spewing from your low-cut top, only to accidentally make eye contact with Donna during his spare seconds of eyeing you, being met with one of the most—rightfully—disgusted stares from her. He was left scoffing every time she grappled onto your elbow and pulled you away wherever you stepped within his vicinity. 

“Yeah.” You sorely pouted. “See, she’s, like, my best friend ever, but she always says the nastiest things about you.”

“Like what?” He questioned with squinted eyes. 

“Well, I don’t want to say the mean names she calls you, but she always mentions how I need to stay away from you; something about you being bad news.” You huffed. “I mean, literally before you came here, I called her all excited that I was finally tutoring someone tonight, because it looks really good on college applications, you know? But when I told her it was you, she completely lost it, saying you were just taking advantage of me.” Fucking divine interference?!

Eddie Munson had to give it to her. She may have been a pain in the ass, but Donna McIntyre was smart.

“Uh, well, y’know, princess, some people are just downright rude.” He dejectedly suspired. “People have been pickin’ on me since I was a child, y’know? Just because I’m different.” Maybe the bruised kid was taking it a little too far, but a special place in hell was already being dedicated to Eddie Munson, with a fiery plaque being engraved with the devil’s sharp talon, so did he care? No. Not when his sob story had you jumping to console him with a sympathizing hug, one where your tits squished against his chest, and he reveled in the feeling of your poking nipples brushing against his body. 

A more than content hum groaned out of Eddie’s mouth, as he wrapped you close, and inhaled a waft of your perfect smell. “I’m so sorry, Eds.” Your heart of gold oozed out with all sadness for him.

“It’s okay, baby-”

“No, it’s not.” You pulled back to pout at him. “People shouldn’t treat you like that. It’s mean. People shouldn’t be mean to you.” Eddie cooed, copying your protruding lips, and sighed happily at your word of action. “You have me as a friend now! And I promise that I’ll never be mean to you. I just want to be nice to you. All the time, be nice to you.”

There’s no way you couldn’t feel his boner pressing into your tummy. “Aw, precious, I’d really like that. You’ll be nice to me? Do anything for me? Make me feel good?”

The quickness to your fervent nod had a sickening grin formulating on Eddie’s expression. “Yes, of course! Always, that’s what friends do.” You smiled. In a flash, you acted on impulse and pressed your lips to his cheek, where your gloss had marked his skin and burned his body. Witnessing you shyly smile at him afterwards had his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. “I just wanna help you out.” You whispered.

“You can definitely help me, princess.” He spoke in hushed tones. “Y’know how you can help me?” His face gravitated to yours, target of interest aiming for your lips.

And you looked at him with those innocent, round eyes. “Tutoring you!” You beamed, like you just answered the million dollar question on a game show- well, not Eddie’s preferred game show.

“Oh,” he cleared his throat with a forced laugh to keep you smiling, “yes, of course, sweetheart, tutoring me. That’s the only reason I came here, anyway.” He internally perished. 

You squealed in excitement, jumping from the giddiness of being helpful. “Yay!” You beamed, forcing Eddie to follow suit, his faux enthusiasm compelling him to swallow thickly in order to constrain the blood back to his brain if he was going to sit through a tutoring lesson before seeing your ass in whatever baby pink thong he pictured you wearing. You laced your hand within his—being his only saving grace for enduring schoolwork after hours—and tugged him into the coziness of your living room. “So, are you taking American History or World History?”

“Uh…” Two years ago, Wayne Munson urged his nephew to exercise his newfound 26th Amendment Right to vote at the ripe age of eighteen for the 1984 Presidential Election. Granted, not so much newfound, given that Eddie was still falling off of monkey bars when protests about the monstrosity of what was going on Vietnam managed to lower the voting age; but nonetheless, Eddie had gotten severely tired of being bombarded by Reagan signs that infested every neighborhood street he drove past, enabling him to proudly wear Hawkins’ very own rendition of the ‘I Voted’ sticker. Though, the excitement was short lived, when the Munsons gruffed in disappointment watching Ronald Reagan win his reelection and haunt their lives for another four years to come. Eddie Munson didn’t know what the hell was going on with the world fifty years ago, but the CBS Morning News was raving about the wave of the conservative movement, talks of Gorbachev meeting Reagan was happening, something called the internet was kinda freaking him out, and Eddie Munson voted, so how’s that for American history for you? 

“American- yeah, yeah, American History.” 

“Perfect!” He followed your movements, and joined you on the couch, textbooks and cookies laid out in uniform perfection against the wood of your coffee table. Just for him. “With Mr. Conklin? Or Mendez?”

“Mendez.” At least, he did when he was still a junior and vandalizing the back desk with engravings of immature pornographic sketches. 

“Oh! Donna’s also in that class.” Eye fucking roll. “She told me about that killer quiz you guys had today. Said something about how none of the questions were on the study guide that Mr. Mendez gave to y’all.”

Eddie drawed out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, yeah.” He lied right through his teeth. “I-It’s why I came to you, sweetheart! I completely flunked that quiz, and- well, then, you- you were just like this angel sent from heaven, offering your help.” He grinned watching you heat up from his heavy stare. “Just meant to be, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Your nerves flustered, as your teeth bit into your lip. “I’m happy to help you, Eds. Anytime you need.” You could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. “Um, did you, uh, bring your books?” Actually getting a good look at him, Eddie hadn’t brought anything. At all. “Or, um, at least… some notes?”

A whistle of slow realization escaped Eddie’s mouth. “Uh… oh, y’know what happened? See, I was just spiraling from the quiz, a-and then I got so nervous for our tutoring lesson that, y’know, it just completely slipped my mind. I’m sorry, princess.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay.” A sweet reassurance came from your part. “We can just share my book.” You patted the distant space of cushion between you two, one which Eddie gladly took up.

And, my god, was he happy he did, because thighs touching thighs, scents mixing with scents, body pressed against body, and one look down, Eddie was exposed to the glory of low-cut shirts, and your tits presented themselves so beautifully to his eyesight. But a worn textbook weighing the size of a fat dog had slammed into his lap, and suddenly his eyes were tainted by the image of an old, white man who surely didn’t arouse him like the picture of your boobs.

“Great… Thomas Jefferson.” A tight-lipped smile concealed his dismay.

“Uh,” your shy giggle captivated his attention, “no, Eddie, that’s actually James Monroe.”

“Psh.” He puffed his cheeks, nonchalantly waving his hand in the air to brush off his blatant error of mistake. “Right. Totally knew that, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay if you didn’t.” You smiled. “I’m here to help you, remember?” 

“Mhm.” His arm circled around your shoulders, letting your rest back in the comfortable bliss of soft cushions and his presence. He hummed seeing you tuck within yourself, thighs pressing into one another, and he could only imagine what you were trying to relieve. Because Eddie Munson had made you feel things. The sweet tingles you would get when you were alone at night and had all the time to yourself. When you would visualize what it would be like to have a boy like you, enough to want to be your boyfriend, and what you two would get up to. Lacey Fisher, four weeks ago, returned from her weekend birthday trip, and confided in you on how her boyfriend, Henry Aronofsky, took her virginity. She detailed to your curious mind that it had hurt. The initial intrusion, it stung. But then he kept going. And it started to feel good. But what was even better was the closeness. His body on hers. His lips on hers. 

You craved that. And having Eddie’s domineering heat radiate on your skin had your pussy pulsating with a thumping tingle that you didn’t know what to do with. Eddie was cute. Cuter than Nathan Cavanugh, Bryce Walters, or Harrison Moran. Eddie Munson had an edge that made you question why your cotton underwear was becoming uncomfortably wet under his stare. How could Donna McIntyre not like him? He was scarily hot. 

“W-What,” You cleared your throat, “what, um, period are you guys on… in Mr. Mendez’s class?”

Shit. “Uh…”

“It was period four, no?” You opened the textbook on his lap, flipping the silk pages to thumb through the chapters. “Donna had mentioned it, said she wanted me to help her study this weekend.”

Thank god for Donna McIntyre’s big ass mouth. Even if it did shit-talk him. “Yeah, yeah, period four, mhm.”

“Okay, so lucky for you, we will be talking about Thomas Jefferson today.” You chuckled. “Period four spans from 1800 to 1848, which will cover different aspects like the developmental growth of political parties as a result from the expansion of suffrage, and definitive aspects of American culture expounded by the Era of Good Feelings…”

Fuck me.

-

Eddie Munson sat through forty-seven minutes of the Jeffersonian Era, listening of the profoundness of the Revolution of 1800s, and America’s god given right to expansion and the manifest destiny- or whatever bullshit propaganda that damn textbook pounded out to high schoolers just to get to some pussy. But if the United States could gain the delusional superiority complex to conquer and prosper on westward, Eddie Munson could do the same- well, on you. This was just one obstacle. One hurdle. One step closer to obtaining his holy grail of getting his dream girl. Shoving a dozen of the triple chocolate chunk cookies you’d baked him was enough to get him through the painful lecture of the demise of the Federalist Party, though, the events of the Mexican-American War was interesting enough to get him into cheering on Mexican troops over Texan volunteers during the Battle of the Alamo, but enough was enough.

“…With the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, the U.S was able to gain the southwest territory, which would include New Mexico, Utah, Nevada, and California, but Mr. Mendez likes specifics, so also be sure to remember we gained the majority of Arizona and Colorado, which bled into parts of Kansas, Wyoming, and Oklahoma.” You huffed in one breath. “Oh! And recall the Monroe Doctrine! Given that we had now warned European countries of the potential threats that would happen if they continued to colonize the western hemisphere, the American win over Mexico had further cemented the U.S as growing world power, which gets into the promotion of democracy and isolationism, which we can get into next-”

“Okay, sweetheart, stop right there.” Eddie scrunched his eyes in agony, cutting you off from proffering anymore mush that was stirring in his already confused brain. “Sorry, uh- sorry, but, like, can we take a break?” He sighed.

“Oh.” Embarrassment rushed to your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sometimes I can get too much into things, we can totally take a break or, um, call it a day if you’d like-”

“No, no, no, no.” He adamantly interjected, closing the textbook with crumpled notes of his compulsory—upon your request—chicken scratch handwriting, brandishing it away next to the crumb-filled platter that once was delicious baked goods. “No, baby, trust me, I don’t want the night to end.” He delicately nudged your chin with his finger, a teasing smile to pair. “I just got a little headache, s’all.”

“Well, are you sure you don’t want to leave to get some rest?” Your brows molded with concern. “We can pick this up tomorrow, or whenever you’re free.”

Eddie Munson played into his bluster of confidence, leaning in close to run a rough-tipped finger down the dough of your thigh, letting your skin wake and react to his heated touch. “What if I wanna rest here with you?” He whispered. “Have you take care of me?”

You gulped. “Um, l-like what?” You nervously giggled. “I can, like, make you soup for-for your headache.” 

“Well, I was thinking more like we can lay down.” He pouted to emphasize his pained facade. “Will you take care of me in bed, baby?”

You licked your lips timidly. “Um, I-I don’t really know if that’s, like, a-appropriate for, um, study sessions. Like, I don’t want you to think I brought you here under the guise of doing… stuff.”

“You can say it, princess.” He smiled. “Say it. You didn’t bring me here to have sex.”

Hearing Eddie’s sultry voice whisper the word had sparked up the special tingles nestled between your thighs, and he could see the sensation consuming your being. “Um, y-yeah. I didn’t bring you here to h-have sex.” Heart racing, you could barely gain the courage to force your eyes upon him. “That’s what, um, Harrison thought when I offered to tutor him.”

“Aw, no, I know, pretty girl.” He cooed, as he firm hand squeezed down on your thigh, pressing the hem of your skirt high. Your sunken teeth had become your only extenuative from letting out a squeal from the jolting sensation. “God, those morons are just dicks. Don’t appreciate how good of a tutor you are. How much of a good girl you are. Right, baby? You’re just such a good girl looking to help, huh?”

You nodded to confirm his sentiment. “Yes, Eddie.”

His hand creeped to separate yours, where they stayed tightly clasped within one another, and he rubbed his fingers against the softness of your warm palm, before confining your hand with his. “Why don’t we go to your room to just relax for a bit, sweetheart? You smell so good, bet your room smells just like you. I love it so much.” 

“Uh…”

“It’ll make me feel so much better, princess.” He cajoled. “C’mon, that’s what friends do, right? You said it yourself, sweetheart.” 

“And then we’ll study again?” You eyed him with a twinkle in your eyes. 

“Man, you really like history, huh?” He teased with a chuckle. 

“Of course!” You happily answered, which had him smiling at your enthused face that glowed giddily. “Why wouldn’t I like something I’m good at?” Spoken with all the confidence. 

Eddie softly laughed in admiration. “You’re so cute.” He gave your thigh another tender squeeze. “Why don’t we do this: you make me feel good, like friends do, and I promise to make you feel extra good?” He stuck out a promising pinky, as he watched you consider his all too innocent proposition. “I’ll make you feel so good, precious.” He whispered. 

“Just relaxing? A small break?”

“Mhm.” He smirked. Fairly ambiguous; not necessarily a lie if not clearly verbalized. But just enough to get you alone in your bedroom. Pinky promised. 

Hands held together, you guided Eddie Munson through the halls of your house to reach your beloved bedroom, where secrecy and intimacy laid between the silks and cottons of your sheets. Each step had Eddie’s dick thumping with excitement, just as anticipated as his heartbeat racing out of his chest. You had never had a boy in your room. In fact, this would have to go untold to the authority of your mother and father, too archaic to understand the innocence of it all. Because that’s all it was. Right? Helping a friend in need to aid him to recovery. Headaches can be killer. Mrs. Weber's fourth period chemistry class often had you succumbed with migraines. Science wasn’t like history. As how Eddie Munson wasn’t like Harrison Moran. He wouldn’t do you as the star quarterback tried with you. Because Eddie Munson was different. Nothing like Donna McIntyre tried to get you to believe. He was different. Right?

“We can just relax here for a bit.” You spoke, as you both entered the confines of your room.

The essence of your own personal girlhood defined the sacred space of your room. Where clean, white walls brightened the mood, personal pictures and feminine posters had livened it up. Sweetness had invaded Eddie’s nose, as he was surely met with the arousing smell of your perfume, predicted to the exact notion. Gold jewelry, the one that complemented your skin beautifully, where dainty necklaces would become suffocated in the valley of your tits, where shiny earrings would decorate your earlobes that Eddie wanted to mouth on, had displayed themselves neatly amongst the products of beauty and self care. Pinks and silks, frills and lace, embodying your sweetness to a T. Effeminate in all aspects of nature.

And Eddie Munson was ready to defile everything. 

Unabashedly, Eddie had breached beyond the realms of a visitor’s right, and taken advantage of the whole ‘make yourself at home’ sentiment that you had actually never spoken; nonetheless, he’d marched his way to your comforting bed occupied by a number of stuffed animals that unfairly got the privilege of seeing you in your most intimate times. 

He splayed himself on the expanse of cushions, a groan leaving his mouth as he relished in the feeling of a bed that wasn’t stabbing of springs, starfishing the expanse that left you giggling on the sideline. “What’re you laughin’ at, you little punk?” He perked. 

“Don’t be mean.” You laughed, watching him grab onto one of the many companions that inhabited your bed. 

“Mm, I think I’m deserving of pokin’ a little fun at someone who owns like fifty stuffed animals.” He smirked, as he beckoned you with a curling finger. 

Given his limbs had almost entirely taken up the breadth of your bed, you were left to sit back on your heels, posture pristine as ever, with your hands neatly kept on the safety of your thighs. Such a sight for sore eyes. Brazen without a care, he hungrily eyed you top to bottom. Bitten lips to round boobs to soft waist to expanding hips. Your revealing skirt inching away and away, giving him a sneak peak to his next meal. 

But while his stares lingered on your body, yours had unintentionally followed suit. Laid flat, the apparent bulge beneath worn denim did not hold merit to the art of concealment, and a quiet gasp left your mouth as you scolded yourself for even peering at your newfound friend like that. “N-Not fifty.” You sternly stated with a smile to get your head straight. “Just four.”

“Still a lot.” He said, investigating the furriness of a chubby bumblebee, one where pink and white instead took over the naturally occurring black and yellow.

“Oh.” His comment had suddenly hit you in a way that made you shame with embarrassment. Unbeknownst to him, of course, he was still finding amusement in the flappy wings of the plushy insect. “Um, d-do you think it’s, like, childish? N-Not mature?” You scratched the back of your neck. Perhaps it was the attachment to the juvenile interest—referred to as by Montgomery Davis, a former love interest that didn’t last too long—that prohibited you from finding an adequate boy to be with.

He had chuckled at the fat stinger. There’s no way that could impale someone. But he had heard the apprehension in your voice, peering up from your stuffed animal to see your more than disappointed face. “Oh, no, baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He quickly forwent Bugsbee the Bee to the side, as a calloused hand landed on your knee for reassurance. Sitting up, Eddie Munson overstepped the boundaries of a tutee to whisper his hot breath against your lips. “I fuckin’ love ‘em. So cute, babe. Just like you.”

“Really?” Your dough eyes scanned his face.

“Would I ever lie to you, sweetheart?” He pinched your cheek. “That’s just not what friends do.” He smiled, as he laid back down. “So, is that what you like to do for fun? Get stuffed animals?”

“Um, not necessarily.” You beamed. “I just like having them around, you know? Keep me company for the things I do like to do.”

“Like what, baby?” He squeezed your knee. “Tell me all that you like doing.”

“Well, let's see, oh, uh, I love journaling. Like, writing my feelings down.” He nodded along, prodding as encouragement for further information. “Uh, typically it started out just in the morning, like, when I wake up, I’d write about what I’d like to accomplish for the day. But then, I kinda realized it’d be nice to vent after a long day, so now, I really just do it whenever.” You shrugged. 

Boys didn’t care about this stuff, but Eddie Munson asked questions. “Yeah?" He grinned. “That sounds nice, baby. Feels like some therapy shit I need.” He chuckled. “Does it make you feel good to write about your feelings?”

“Yeah!” You happily answered. “Um, sometimes it's hard to talk about what I’m feeling to my friends. Like, Donna, for example; she’s got her whole life planned out, she’s so smart. If it’s hard for me to understand what I’m feeling, then I know Donna won’t. I’m scared she’ll judge me.”

“Donna’s a bitch.” He gruffed, with a groan of disdain. 

“No, don’t say that, that’s mean.” You chastised him. “She’s my friend, Eddie.”

“Right, right, sorry, baby.” He quickly made up for it. “It’s just hard to get along with her, s’all. But, uh, this journaling… what kinda feelings do you write about? Like, uh, I don’t know, private ones? You can tell me, honey.”

You nervously laughed, squirming in the seated position of being on your calves. “Y-Yeah, like, uh, well sometimes I worry that I won’t ever get, like, a real boyfriend. Like, a serious relationship. Not like whatever gross hookup the boys at our school want. I don’t want that.”

Eddie caressed the skin of your leg. “Totally, babe. Don’t waste your time with the little boys at our school. You need a real man, huh? Someone who’s gonna take care of their pretty girl.” He smirked, as you nodded in agreement.

Your heart lumped out of your chest, as you followed the languid movements of his large hand encapsulating your bent knee. His touch felt fiery against your skin, creating a series of goosebumps in his guided path, like a mark of territory. Your thighs, once again, clenched at his mercy. Seeing the prominent blue veins reveal themselves from under his alabaster skin had you striked with a familiar heated tingle. The tingles you’d have to satiate alone at night. “You think I can find someone like that?” You softly asked with all vulnerability. 

Eddie snaked his hand upward to gently hold one of yours. “Ugh, absolutely, princess, are you crazy? Sexiest and sweetest thing in the world, remember I told you? I meant it, baby. Sometimes you just gotta look right in front of you.” He smugly smiled. Your mouth went dry, as you attempted to ease your flustered smile. “Just like me, I need a princess to take care of.”

“Mhm, you deserve someone nice, Eddie.” 

“But, uh, I also need someone who’s not gonna judge me.” He perfected a pout that had you sympathizing at his feet. “Y’know, like I said before, some people are just so mean, wouldn’t understand me. Would you judge me, princess?”

“Oh, no! Never, Eddie! Solemnly, I understand the feeling, I’d never do that to you.” You preached with such vehemence, it had Eddie’s blood pooling to the length of his dick with a sickening smile eating his face. 

“So, you wouldn’t judge me if I told you what I like to do for fun, baby?” He played with your fingers, an act of innocence that had your heart soaring. 

“Nuh-uh.” You affirmed with a shake of your head. “You can tell me.” You delicately approached. 

“Well, sweetheart, I really really love touching myself.” He whispered, reveling in the sensation of your hand automatically squeezing his in a tightening hold, eyes rounding in surprise. “I do it all the time, sweetheart.”

“Oh.” Flustered beyond recognition, the single word had become the only thing trusted to speak, as his admission had ignited millions of sparkling tingles, letting a gush of wetness uncomfortably soak your precious underwear. 

He sneered with delight in power. “You’re not judgin’ me, are ya, baby?”

“No, no!” You rushed out. “I, uh- it’s totally n-normal… um, doing that. People- everyone does it.”

“Yeah?” He piqued with interest, watching you unfold into his ingenious trap. “You do it, too, princess?”

Your cheeks were invaded by hot blood, tainting your face with humiliation at the thought of giving up such intimate information. But he was your friend. You didn’t want him to feel judged. And lying was awful. Taught by the man, himself, Honest Abe. Great, and now history was being brought up again! It felt as if the devil had blown his burning breath to flame your face with embarrassment, but the devil was enticing, inching you to the darkside, where you’d be gifted with the persuasion of pure hedonism for the rest of your life. Eddie Munson was the devil. Materialized in the most euphoric way possible. 

You were wriggling, letting spiking friction torment your pussy under his glare. He was waiting. “Um, y-yeah, Eddie. I-I do it. Sometimes.”

An airy groan left his mouth, one he didn’t obscure, simply letting it out for you to witness. “Mm, I knew you would. Pretty girls like you love to touch themselves.” Holding his hand seemed to be the only form of comfort to enduring his gross words. You didn’t want to let go. “Love rubbing your pussy, don’t you baby?”

You didn’t like that word. But words deemed filthy by your definition only seemed to burn you coming from the mouth of Eddie Munson, himself. Harrison Moran once said he’d like to see your pussy. It made you scowl in disgust, and kick him out. But Eddie Munson had you enamored. 

“Yeah.” You whispered bluntly, feeling that his trust could leave you to softly speak with no repercussion. 

“Tell me, sweetheart, with your fingers?” He embraced your hand. “You play with your pussy with your fingers, put ‘em inside to fuck yourself?” Before you could reason, your head had taken the liberty to shake itself for you. No. Eddie’s brow lifted in confusion. Not to define you by the shyness of your nature, but you hadn’t necessarily struck the pervert, himself, as a user of sex toys. Well, at least, he hoped not. Something about introducing you to the world of vibrators and dildos made his cock jump with joy. “You don’t finger yourself? 

“Hands are too small.” You meekly answered, so lightly he could barely hear it.

“What do you do then, baby?”

Perhaps the alchemy of wizardry and spell casting from his beloved hobby of Dungeons and Dragons had magically manifested itself into his current reality—at the very least, it felt as though it had—as Eddie Munson’s words had you reeling in a sudden candid behavior too unfamiliar to your prospective nature. Not to say fibbery came as an innate trait for you, in fact, you honored yourself in the frankness of your words. 

But you had never acted on impulsion. 

And it felt as though Eddie’s provocative language had you destined at his mercy, forcing your body to act with no regards. There was no thinking under his gaze. No hesitation. For the briefest second of quickness, your eyes had landed in the ivory plush of an adorably stuffed bunny sat just three inches away from his shoulder, that had answered his ribald question. 

Your cheeks had ablazened when his quick eye followed your glance that lingered in the air. The corner of his lip had disgustingly peaked into a diabolical smirk, as his perverted mind exploded at the revelation. “Aw, sweetheart.” He groaned, a curious hand reaching out for your bunny.

“No, Eddie!” You tried to jeopardize his movements with urgency. “D-Don’t touch it, it’s not-”

“What is it, sweetheart?” He picked up the bunny, despite your protests. Eddie examined the cute stuffy, his perverted reflection shining back at him through the glassy, round eyes that mimicked your humiliated ones. “Shit, princess, you rub your pretty pussy on your bunny, hm? Does humping your stuffed animal feel better than fucking your fingers inside your cunt?”

“Eddie.” You whined with embarrassment, so shamefaced, dropping your head in your hands to conceal your burning expression. 

“It’s okay, darlin’.” He smiled, loving the twisted feeling of having his dick pulsate at your sheepish state. Eddie pried your hands away, revealing your timid face to him. “Remember, baby, I’m not judgin’ you, I just wanna know. Friends, they tell each other everything and help one another out, you gotta tell me, baby.” With a single hand gripping both your wrists tightly, you refused to look him in the eye, fear consuming you at the thought of Eddie Munson finding you gross for your actions. A wave of tears were threatening your eyes, and you hoped peering at the organized clutter of your nightstand would be enough to withstand the mortifying experience of crying after having him learn what you did. 

“You’re gonna make fun of me.” Your trembling lip managed to mutter out. 

“Aw, no, baby, I would never.” He turned your chin to force you to face him. “Honestly, sweetheart, thinkin’ of you doing that is so sexy.” He groaned with a bite to his lip. “God, picturing you humping your little stuffed animal has me feeling a little hot, see.” His hand deserted your face to rake over his pronouncing bulge, that seemed larger than before. “Mm, got me so worked up, baby. This is all your fault.” He moaned, squeezing his cock with a heavy hand.

Your mouth had opened at the sight of him touching himself over his pants. Those funny tingles had bursted between your thighs, and so insecurely, you questioned him. “Really?”

“Ugh, absolutely, babe.” He returned to your bunny, laying back to play with the small arms of your teddy, as his hand remained stationed on his boner, massaging his erection with breathy grunts leaving his mouth. “You’re so fucking beautiful, princess.” While attempting to ease your emotional nerves, Eddie had taken a good look at your bunny, the evidence of your usage being found in the matted fur surrounding the pink nose of your innocent companion. “Shit, did you fuck yourself this morning, baby?”

“That’s why I didn’t want you to touch it!” You dreaded. “I promise I’ll clean it, give it here-”

A loud gasp left your mouth, as Eddie rejected your request, bringing your stuffed bunny nose to nose, inhaling a waft of the lingering scent of your pussy. His eyes closed in ecstasy, moaning loudly as your raw smell invaded his being, rubbing the tent in his pants harshly for any form of relief. “Fuck, baby, you smell so good. I gotta touch myself.” He flung your precious stuffed animal back, in reach for his belt, cursing under his breath as his abrasive movements momentarily caused the leather to tighten when needing to be off. 

“W-What?” Your brows jumped to crease your forehead. 

“I can’t help it, baby, you’ve got me so fucking hard right now.” Eddie tugged opened his belt, rushing to undo the brass button of his pants. “Fuck, you’re not gonna judge me, right? That’s not what friends do. In fact, friends help each other out. Especially when they’re as sexy as you, baby.”

Swollen to a girth of thickness, Eddie’s cock smacked out with eagerness to fuck, and his precum oozed out, as he watched your face morph into surprise at seeing the first cock in your life. His ringed hand wrapped around himself, cursing under his breath as he felt the jolts of pleasure crash over him. “I touch myself like this, baby, fuck.” He squeezed the head of his cock, smearing his precum down to his base. “Do it so much to you, god, fuck me, princess, I think about you all the time. Can’t stop myself from jerking off at the thought of your pretty, little face.” Eddie whined. 

Your lips stayed stationed agape from the divulgence and sight of what was occurring in front of you. You hadn’t even prospered the fact that your body was reacting more candidly than your mind had anticipated, and Eddie nearly blew his load watching your thighs swish against one another to relieve your arousal. “Y-You think about me?” You delicately spoke. 

“Of course, fuck, fucking look at yourself, mm.” He tightened his grip. “Shit, baby, are you feeling horny, too? Is lookin’ at me making you wanna rub that fucking pussy?”

“U-Um, I-I don’t know.” Nervous eyes attempt to look around for anything that wasn’t Eddie Munson masturbating in your bed. “I-I don’t wanna do anything… anything bad. I don’t wanna get in trouble, Eds.”

“No, no, baby, it’s not bad, it’s good- so fucking good.” He sucked in his breath, as his hand picked up the pace. “Fuck, you’ll feel so good, darlin’- let me make you feel good, princess.” Eddie heaved, inching his large hand up your thigh until his fingers brushed your risened skirt. “Don’t tell anyone, and we won’t get in trouble.”

You watched with heavy pants, as Eddie’s strength managed to dig his fingers into the fat of your inner thigh to part them, and reveal those drenched baby pink panties he so perfectly predicted in the filth hive of his mind. “L-Like this- um, Eddie I’ve never done this with someone else, I-I don’t what to do-”

“Shh, shh.” He demanded, saving your breath from a wrecking tirade of being inexperienced. “Just let me touch you like good friends do.” His fingertips skimmed the puddle in your panties, causing an unwarranted squeal to escape your mouth, as you bucked your hips into his touch. “Oh, my-”

“Mm, Eds, you’re making me feel funny!” You attempted to close your legs, but his hand was quick to lightly slap your thigh in refusal. 

“Don’t fucking close your legs, fuck, just let me touch you.” His grip held you exposed to him, and he was aggressive with the way the pad of thumb smushed against your covered clit, forcing you to ball your sheets into your tightening fists. 

A guttural moan was ripped from you, as his thumb worked intricately to circle your clit, letting your hips ride his fingers. “E-Eddie!”

“That’s right, just hump my fucking hand, baby.” He whined, as he continued to jerk his cock, until his hips were following in sync with yours; his pivoting to thrust into his hand, yours grinding in desperate need for release. “Shit, touch me like I’m touching you- fuck, put your hands on me.”

Eddie’s slick hand grappled onto your wrist, pulling your resisting fist from your balled blanket onto his dick, where he maneuvered your fingers to wrap around his girth and mimic the strokes he once gave himself. A surge of wetness gushed at your given ability to elicit a deep groan from Eddie Munson. Seeing him react to your touch as such spurred a wave of confidence to continue your ministration, tightening your grip around his dick and providing him the languid movements that had his heavy sack pulsating with a need to cum. 

But Eddie Munson’s ego was growing expeditiously. 

And he wasn’t about to be putty in your hands- your oh so tiny, soft hands that gripped him like a vice and made him to want to fuck it for an eternity. No. Not when his hand was cupping your hot pussy, fingers becoming moist through your wet underwear, as they dug between your lips to rub that sensitive little clit and had you whimpering at his command. 

“Fuck, stand up, princess.” He shoved your hand off his cock, simultaneously choosing to regrettably tear his away from the warmth of your cunt.

Whining in despair, you stuttered. “W-What? Why?”

“Because,” Eddie positioned himself to the edge of bed, grabbing your hand to guide onto wobbly feets, pins and needles pricking your legs as they woken from their previous position, “I’m gonna put my cock between your pretty, little lips.” 

Manspreading, his thighs parted for your residence, Eddie’s penis burning red with desire, as it hung heavy against his abdomen, each protruding vein slimed with a coat of his precum. His hands rested on your hips, and he smirked as he took in the sight of your body, one he desired so much to just touch and violate for his pleasure. The blatantly obvious was shown in your face; your undivided attention had primarily focused on his dick, and he couldn’t help the chuckle of egotism that erupted from his chest, as he smoothed down the bumps and curves of your body. 

“Aw, you like looking at my cock, princess?” He sneered with a drenching voice of condescendment that had your head snapping with embarrassment.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“No, no, baby, don’t be.” Eddie’s focus began shifting to the hem of your shirt, teasing it up to reveal the soft navel of your belly.  “It’s all yours to look at. Just like your pussy is all mine.” He bit his lip. “Especially when I fuck my cock inside of you, hm, you gonna let me, baby?”

That had your chest heaving with bursts of nerves, both good and bad. To know Eddie wanted that closeness with you was profoundly what had your heart fluttering with the idea of him loving you to a committed relationship. One where he was a boy calling you his girlfriend, and you were a girl calling him your boyfriend. But Lacey Fisher’s words had suddenly begun playing in your head like a record on loop. “It hurt.”

And Eddie Munson’s cock was pulsating at a length in which both of your hands had to wrap around his girth just to mount it. 

“Um, I-I don’t, uh- Eddie I’ve never done that b-before… I want you, like, to be my boyfriend, right? Like, this is what boyfriend-girlfriends do? B-But maybe I should wait- or we should… as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

There was a little hint in your voice. The way you suggested your ending in a lighter octave, fear that Eddie didn’t want to be your boyfriend, that he’d be just like Harrison Moran. But Eddie Munson wasn’t Harrison Moran, and his smile lit up at the timidness of your stature.

His dream girl. 

“I get to be your boyfriend, baby?” He leaned in to press a tender kiss upon your thigh. 

A shy smile corrupted your face, as you nodded to his question. “Mhm! Is it okay if we kiss like boyfriend and girlfriend?”

He chuckled at your cuteness, squeezing the meat of your legs in frustration at the overload he was feeling for you. “Of course, princess, c’mere.” Bending slightly at the waist, Eddie took the liberty of enduring most of the labor of stretching as far as he could until his lips crashed upon yours. Your mouth just as sweet as your being, Eddie moaned at the moisturizing sensation of the vanilla strawberry lip gloss that conjoined you together. His hands were aggressive to suddenly keep your cheeks in place, forbidding you to leave his mouth until he was ready to let go. It’s why you squealed when learning Eddie had no shame being the messy kisser he was; pushing his tongue between your lips, clashing teeth with teeth, consuming your mouth, and plunging an obscene amount of spit to your tongue, as his ravished in exploration. “Mm, fuck, love kissing you.” His delirious voice murmured against your lips. “Remember, honey,” he finished you off with one more peck, “you can’t tell Donna and friends about this. Not about how we got together, okay?” Eddie stroked your face. “They wouldn’t understand, only say mean things about you and me.”

“Okay.” You quietly agreed, wanting to protect your boyfriend from the harsh words Donna would possibly say. How could she pull you away under the guise of protection, when Eddie Munson’s been nothing but sweet to you? What was she seeing that you weren’t? Surely, you always kept your mouth closed, deciding against your sour opinion of Tucker Walsh, who Donna had on-and-off dated for months. 

“Yeah, you’ll be a good girl and won’t tell anyone?” He cooed, stroking your face. 

“Uh-huh.” You gently beamed, seeing his eyes scan your face with proudness. 

“Perfect.” Eddie pecked your nose. “Now, c’mon, sweetie, don’t you wanna show your boyfriend your tits? Always dreamed of seeing ‘em.” Untrustworthy of your awkward movements, you had let Eddie take the reins, simply standing straight to have him, once again, persist the labor of handling you to undress in front of him. His fingers tickled your sides, as they grappled with your shirt to pull it over your head, and spring your tits from the confinements of the tight material. Eddie dramatically sucked in his breath upon sight, mumbling swears because your nipples had hardened from the chill air. “So fucking pretty- fucking beautiful, sweet girl.” He groaned, taking advantage of your topless self, and having a squeeze at your boobs.

“Y-You think I’m beautiful?” You whimpered, loving the beguiling feeling of his callouses scraping your tits, only to pull and pinch at your sensitive nipples. 

“So fucking beautiful.” Eddie was quick to answer, placing a kiss to your belly button, which had butterflies fluttering in your stomach, making you swoon over your kind boyfriend. Boyfriend. “Most gorgeous fucking girl I’ve ever seen. Just wanna be with you so bad- always wanted to be with you, sweetheart.”

“You are with me… now.” You giggled, which had him grinning salaciously. 

“Yeah, I am, huh?” He hand traveled down to your skirt, playing with the soft fabric. “Got the prettiest girl in school at my hands, I’m so fucking lucky.” He teased his way to the hem of your underwear, teetering between gently pulling them down, only to secure them back in place just to have your squirming with want. “I want you to do somethin’ for me, baby, okay? Just wanna see you out of these cute, little panties, but, honey, turn around and do it.”

Ready to please him, you obliged, turning your backside to him, leaving you to look back and watch him sit back to enjoy the incoming show, as his hand wrapped around his cock and, once again, began his slow strokes. “Like this?”

“Mhm.” He breathily sighed. “Just bend over real deep, princess, so I can see up your skirt, and I wanna- fuck, I wanna see you take off your panties just like that, shit.” 

Eddie Munson was a little weird. 

But maybe that’s what makes your boyfriend so interesting. Getting to know him will be fun. But for right now, you’d do as he says. The idea of making him happy made your heart flutter with joy, as a little voice in your head spoke to you that Eddie Munson was there to make you happy, as well. Bending forward, your skirt had completely risen, exposing your ass to him and that darkened spot in your panties waving at him as a tempting testament to how horny he was making you feel. 

“God, what a fucking ass.” Eddie grunted, spurring his hips to fuck up into his hand. “Go ahead and take those panties off, baby, show me what’s waiting for me.”

Grabbing the lace of your underwear, you tugged down the cotton, fighting the bit of resistance from when Eddie’s fingers buried your panties between the lips of your pussy. But they peeled off, showing him strings of sticky wetness that clung to the gusset and glistened your cunt. Eddie had to immediately stop touching himself, almost shooting his cum out from the sight of your puffed pussy lips squished between your thighs. As your panties teased down your legs, pooling at your ankles, you were startled from the abrupt groping from your boyfriend, feeling him grab handfuls of your cheeks that kept you spread wide, as you stood straight. 

“Eddie!” You shrieked into small laughter.

“Oh, my god, you’re gonna fucking kill, baby, fuck, look at you- this ass, look at this fucking wet pussy.” He kneaded the dough of your butt, before placing a stinging spank to watch the fat jiggle from his heavy hand. 

“Ow, Eddie!” 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He was quick to land delicate kisses to the burning area, as the incriminating hand ran over your skin to soothe you. “Just can’t fucking help it.” Securing your hips, Eddie turned you around until your pretty face was smiling down at him, letting his cock twitch with all love and adoration for you. 

“What now?” He loved your curiosity. Getting to corrupt your innocent mind into wanting more, until you were his eager slut, begging to shove his cock into all your holes until you were leaking his cum. 

“Now,” he smiled, reaching behind him to bring forth your plushie bunny, one tainted with your cum and it had his dick jumping for joy, “you’re gonna show me how you fuck your little bunny, baby.” You swallowed thickly at his request, a twinge of embarrassment coursing through you at the request of showing Eddie something so carnal. But he was your boyfriend. And you could find trust in your boyfriend to make you feel good. “But I also need you to work that little mouth around my cock, honey. Can you do that? Suck it for me?”

You feared disappointing him. “I-I don’t know how. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay, I’ll teach you, baby. Just get on your knees for me, yeah?” Last month, Eddie nearly combusted into the crotch area of his jeans watching you suck on a red lollipop during the chaotic minutes of lunch. Safe to say, an entire monologue teasing the meaning behind the potential return of hooded cultists had been ruined in the midst of advertising his upcoming campaign to his eager friends, who embarrassingly had to watch their Dungeon Master choke on his spit, when Eddie found your tongue twirling around the cherry ball of candy, only to suck up the syrupy saliva into you mouth. The head of his cock was no different than that lollipop. You’d do just fine. 

Letting your knees rub against your carpeted floor, your hands find perch onto his denim thighs, and you outlined the length of his cock with eyes, wondering how something of that thickness could fit into your mouth. Eddie parted ways with his pants, shuffling out of the rough material, with a metal chain and leather belt clanking along the way, to ensure enough room to have you get off on your stuffed animal.

“Go ahead, baby, start humping your little stuffie for me.” Eddie had meticulously placed your bunny between your legs, watching you for the moment your pussy came in contact with the nub of its nose. 

Eddie hissed at the affliction of pain from your nails digging into his hairy thighs, as you became too enlivened by the friction of your clit grinding against your little bunny to account for the provocation you were besetting against him. But Eddie Munson loved it. His immoral mind found arousal in watching you abuse his skin from pleasure, compelling his cock to jerk with profound need. 

“Yeah, feel good, princess? Rubbin’ that fucking pussy?” You pathetically nodded, gentle whispers of whimpers leaving your mouth, as you humped your teddy with all conviction. “God, just love usin’ that little bunny as a fuck toy, huh?” He pinched your chin to force your glossy gaze upon him. “Just like I’m gonna use you, right, honey?”

“Mhm, oh my- mm, fuck!” Your tummy clenched, as your hips picked up the momentum to circle the stuffed animal's face, and defile its fur with your wetness.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be my sweet, little bunny?” Eddie’s thumb began pulling at your bottom lip, leaving him cursing as it bounced back to its plumpness. “My sweet, little bunny who’s gonna be my little fuck toy to use whenever?”

“Y-Yes, Eddie… whenever.”

“Fuck, open that pretty fucking mouth for me, and stick out that tongue, baby.” Holding his cock up, Eddie smiled as you obliged so kindly, letting him smack the angry tip of his dick against your tongue, as you finally got a taste of him. 

“This w-will make you feel good, mm?” You pondered through mumbles, as you lost yourself in the sensation of pussy buzzing from the burning friction against your clit. 

“Yes, baby, fuck, just keep your mouth open.” Eddie’s hand fell heavy upon the top of your head, as he beckoned you to take him deeper, letting his cock to become enveloped in the soft warmth of your mouth. It became no question of whether this would feel good for him, the guttural moan that left his mouth upon intrusion had your hips bucking with fervency. 

The viscid coating of his cock with pungent precum made you hum, igniting a series of grunts from your boyfriend, as hissing vibrations exploded in his body. Eddie guided your hands to the base of his cock, encouraging you to massage the leftover that wasn’t occupied by your mouth. “Fuck, yes! Make it messy, baby, just spit all over it!” 

Eddie Munson sat back in rhapsody, losing himself in the delirium of having you choke on his cock, as your spit puddled his length, escaping your lips as you suckled on the frenulum of his head. His hair cascaded down, letting his body become too heavy to support as your mouth was bringing him a gratifying high that he never wanted to come down from. Your humps grappled against thumping his thumping veins, enclosing him into a vice grip that had him moaning at your mercy.

“Mm, sh-shit, princess, your—ugh, aaahh—mouth!” He huffed against his restricting lungs. Eddie’s hips began to mimic your bucking, as you moaned at the fizzing rub of your bunny scratching that greedy itch on your clit, allowing him to shove his cock to the gummy constriction of your throat, forcing you to gag on his invasive cock. Sweet spit raining down to his heavy balls, letting his pelvis of bushy pubes become soak with your secretion. 

You pulled off with a sore throat, thick strings of spit sticking from his cock to your lips, as your watering eyes scarily gleamed up at him. “Ugh! Y-Your too big- I can’t-”

“Yes, you can, fuck, it’s feels so fucking nice when you choke!” He urged your head back down, now blubbering with a need to finish on your tongue. “J-Just keep fucking yourself, shit! Don’t stop until I tell you.”

Your tongue reached to tickle the underside of his dick, memorizing his stern rigids that had your jaw hurting from breaking open. Eddie sat up to spy down your backside, where he virtually lost it at the sight of your ass cheeks recoiling from the lively movements of your hips humping your stuffy. “Ugh, you gonna cum, sweetheart?” He cupped your face, guiding your languid movements up and down his cock, as you went through the endeavor of nodding to his question. “Fucking cum, baby, cum all over your little bunny!” He demanded. 

His heavy hand landed on the back of your head, shoving your face to become suffocated in the unruliness of his pubic hair. Nose inhaling his musk, you sputtered on his cock, gagging at his length prodding at the back of your throat, all to bring Eddie’s long arm down to reach for your ass. A burning sting from a substantial slap had you wailing on his fat cock, “Fucking faster.” He dictated your movements, spurring your hips to drive into the plushy with spanks to your tormented ass. “Cum with me, fuck! M’gonna cum! Cum, baby, cum!”

The bundle of nerves in your pussy began detaching from one another, like a rope inching to snap. Rutting into your stuffed animal, your muffled moans were buzzing his cock, bringing you to the brink of a gushing explosion. Your thrusting became uncoordinated, as your tummy bursted with euphoria, and your release adulterated your white bunny. 

Sobbing on his cock, his stomach muscles tightened into an agonizing cramp, as his balls clenched to pump out his seed, flooding your throat with his hot cum. “Ah! Shit, shit, shit—ugh! Fuck me!” Gagging, your hands repeatedly swatted his thick thighs—decorated with the crescents and blistering scratches of your nails—to release you from potentially vomiting on his dick. 

His hand relinquished his hold, allowing you to come up for air. Gasping, struggling to find a breath of fresh air, as a concocted mixture of spit and cum dribbled out from your mouth, but you had no hesitation licking your lips to consume the strange taste of his release.

“Holy shit, that was incredible!” Eddie dropped back onto your bed, hands gripping his sweaty curls, as he urged his mind to collect the events that just transpired before him. Chest heaving, teeth gritted, skin moist, this- this is what that Belinda chick was singing about! It wasn’t until a warm head landed on his thighs, that his thoughts jumped to prioritize your wellbeing. In retrospect, the notion of his sticky balls pressing into your temple with his flaccid cock resting upon your forehead shouldn’t have been so idyllic to Eddie Munson, but my god, was his heart constricting at your exhausted state—half-lidded eyes begging for rest, plump lips parted for airy breaths, and your manicured fingers delicately tracing against the hairs of his thigh to soothe the injuries you were beginning to feel remorseful for inflicting. 

His hand gently stroking your cheek, garnering your attention, letting you tiredly peer up at his rosy state of pink cheeks and glistening skin. “You okay, princess? Too much? I shouldn’t have gone so rough, I’m sorry, baby. Fuck, just lost myself, you felt so good.” 

“It’s okay.” Your saccharine voice assured him. “You’re my boyfriend, you can do anything to me.”

Eddie Munson lovingly smiled at you, as he caressed your hot face. “As long as you want it. Only. Okay?” You nodded with confirmation, and you gazed up at your boyfriend with endearing eyes that had him bubbling with devotion to you. “Such a good girl, did you cum?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I promised to make you feel extra good, didn’t I, baby?” He smirked. “C’mere.” His strength guided you onto your bed, laying you against your cloud-like pillows, before reaching down to grab a hold of your bunny. Soiled with your cum, Eddie’s menacing grin cracked through his face, as he lightly pressed a finger into the wet fur. Your tummy stirred watching his tongue delve into the drenchness, and humming with delight. “Fuck, your pussy taste so good.” He groaned, discarding your stuffy to climb between your thighs.

Steady on his knees over you, he peeled off his ragged shirt, exposing his ivory skin of sharp bumps and squishy softness, ornamented with scary images of permanent ink your parents would surely scowl at if they ever saw. You beamed at him. “You’re so pretty, Eddie.”

His teeth stabbed into his lips, as he teasingly smiled with giddiness. “Thank you, darling. Never as pretty as you, though.”

While wanting the intimacy, you couldn’t help the surge of anxious nerves that brought an onslaught against you, as Eddie began trying to liven his cock with small strokes while eyeing your glistening pussy. “W-Wait, um…” His brows jumped into his bangs, as he awaited your concerns. “No.” You swallowed thickly. “Eddie, I’m not ready for… that.”

He could be Harrison Moran. He could break up with you. He could scoff at your prudeness. But Eddie Munson was simply a perverted man who devoted his longing into the beautiful girl that graced the halls of Hawkins High. He wasn’t Harrison Moran. And you learned that as Eddie stayed silent, merely leaning down to place an electrifying kiss to your lips, pouring out all his adoration for the girl that captivated his dreams every night for the past two years. 

“I still wanna keep my word, sweetheart.” He murmured into your kiss. “Can I do something else?”

You meekly looked into his darkwood eyes. “Will it hurt?”

“Not at all, princess.” He eased the scrunch of your worriment brows with a peck to your forehead. “I’d never hurt you.” 

With the nod of your head and the words of your mouth, Eddie had your corroboration to do as he please, and his mouth had traveled down the junction of your neck, sucking small love bruises to the column length; to the valley of your breasts, where his lips unclosed your hardened nipples with gentle suckles; and the softness of your bell, decorating your stomach with appreciative kisses that made you feel beautiful to the touch; before his breath became hot over your needy cunt. Sugary kisses of mawkish desire met the plushness of your inner thighs, inching to your swollen pussy lips, irritated and slick from the rawness of rubbing against your bunny. 

His long tongue dragged its way to part your cunt, leaving your breath to hitch at the newfound contact of his wet muscle ravishing you. If this is anything close to what he felt when your mouth was on him, surely you could forgive him for the bruised throat you’d have to aid in the following morning. Eddie became brutally gluttonous at the tangy arousal he slurped from your pulsating hole. So small and unused, he’d have a fucking field day when the moment would come he could drill his cock into you virgin pussy.  

The tip of tongue burned against your abused clit, agonizingly teasing swirls around the nub just to flick it with fervency, and have you crawling away from the unbearable overstimulation. “E-Eddie!” You stumbled for air. Your foot had planted itself against his hot forehead at an brutish attempt to push his determined mouth away, but Eddie Munson triumphed you in the realms of physical strength, and his arm had pried you open, before securing themselves to ground your squirming thighs. 

Latched like a leech, Eddie was becoming feverish from the deliriums of being pussy drunk. Sucking onto your clit, his head shook to abuse you, forcing the muscles in your legs to tighten with trembles. Your scent had engulfed him, as his nose smushed against your clit to snake his tongue into the clenching walls of your velvet pussy. Incoherent words were tumbling into your pussy, entirely unheard from your wrenching moans. 

“So fucking good.” He gargled into your cunt, groaning into your pussy, and making out with your entrance. Heaven was a place on Earth, and it was you. 

“I-I can’t, Eddie! Too much!” Though, your actions had conflicted with your words, hands buried into his hair, shoving his face to be submerged between your thighs, as your hips gyrated against the dimensions of his pretty face. On the precipice of letting go, your back flew off the surface of your bed, shaky legs lovingly crushing his head, with a moan beyond hotter than the numerous porno films of corny lines and exaggerated screams Eddie consumed just to perfect his skills. “I’m c-cumming- aahh!”

Eddie slurped your remaining juices, tonguing your pussy in search for anymore of your delicious cum that he would relish in. Patting your throbbing clit with a cherishing kiss goodbye, Eddie climbed your limp body, with a mouth and chin laminated with your wetness. One he smashed into your mouth with a smearing kiss against your lips, giving you a taste of the tarte sweetness of your pussy. 

“You’re such a good boyfriend.” You breathily giggled against his mouth, leaving him chuckling at your inebriated-like state. “Best one I’ve had.”

“I’m the only one you’ve ever had.” He laughed, as he guided you to rest on the thumping beat of his full heart. 

“So?” You smiled. “Donna’s always complaining about Tucker, and you’re nothing like him. I could never complain about you.” You were making him melt into a puddle of mush, as your words erupted in his tummy. He smiled down, kissing your hairline, before nudging you to grab a hold of your lips to his. “Mm, you smell good.” You hummed with delight.

Eddie guffawed. “Princess, that’s your pussy on my face.” He bumped your scrunching nose with a tender finger. “I probably smell like sex, sweat, and cigarettes, sweetheart.”

“But it’s you. I like you, Eddie.” Your round eyes peered up at him, and he held your contact.

“Yeah?” He whispered. Insecurity was swirling within him. Surely you were just babbling from the orgasm gifted upon you from him. Eddie Munson was Eddie Munson. You were fucking you. His vulgar behavior and profligate mind was undeserving of a girlfriend like-

“I’ve liked you for a while.” You smiled with closed eyes. Relishing. The bombshell of the revelation had his bursting with cinching brows of astonishment. “Remember, two years ago, we had art class together?” Remember? It was the day Eddie Munson first laid his eyes on you, of course, he remembers! Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t s- “I saw you, and you were just so cute doodling in your sketchbook. These scary monsters, and stuff. But they were good. I always wanted to compliment you on it, but I never got the courage. Just stuck to having a crush on you.” You delicately giggled. 

Eddie Munson could have been fucking you for the past two years?!

You were quick to hum into a light slumber. Eddie was stupefied at the actual idiocy he was currently metaphorically forehead-slapping himself for. That was until your sudden jolt had him jumping with concern.

“Oh, my god! Eddie, we completely forgot to go over the promotion of democracy and isolationism coming into the late 1800s!” You heaved.

He cooed. “Oh, sweetheart…”

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | @sierrahhh

#stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #perv!eddie #perv!eddie munson

[delulujuls]

brazilian air | as12

hi, i am in my classic f1 era rn and i am currently obsessed with mr Senna god he was so fine and since it's his bday today i thought that im gonna upload this one bc why not

also im like 100% sure that this one will flop but i wanted to upload this anyway, so if you'll find it worth a shot, enjoy then!

happy bday king, 64 today but 34 forever, you'll always be missed

summary: during a month break from racing, ayrton thought that inviting y/n into his family sides will get them along even more. to the surprise to both of them, they got along even better than expected

warnings: sexual content, fingering, female orgasm

pairing: fem!mclarendriver x ayrton senna

After the Sao Paulo Grand Prix, there came a monthly break, even though it was only the second race of the season.

The end of march was very warm, but the weather in Brazil had its own rules. Just as in London there was probably a downpour and the temperature barely above ten degrees, the other side of the globe had almost holiday-like weather.

The 1990 season was the second year when Y/N took Alain Prost's seat at McLaren, thus becoming Ayrton Senna's teammate. While many did not look favorably upon Ron Dennis's decision for various reasons—because Y/N was the first woman in history to have the opportunity to race at the top level of motorsport, her debut in Formula 1, her young age, and the fact of what kind of past Senna had with his previous teammates—with each passing month the doubts started to going away.

The girl handled herself on the track incredibly well, and since McLaren did not disappoint with their cars, she practically returned from every race with points, effectively shutting the mouths of all those who spoke unfavorably about her.

Even Ayrton himself, who was initially the most unconvinced about the boss's decision, also didn't need much to change his mind about her. At first, he approached her with distance, fearing that her joining the team might cause even more damage than when they had Prost in reserve. As it turned out, the girl was not his enemy; often, he himself silenced all those who attacked her and questioned her abilities.

Senna saw that she looked up at him as her authority. She never explicitly told him, but it was evident how she listened carefully to his advice, asked when she had doubts, and consulted almost everything only with him, although she had a whole crowd of people around her.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief seeing that they tolerated each other and there were no forecasts for them to repeat the Senna-Prost scenario. However, tolerating each other was an understatement, because Ayrton would never invite someone to his family's sides whom he merely tolerated. The Brazilian didn't admit it out loud, but he liked the girl. Sometimes he even caught himself thinking about her when she wasn't around, and when she was, he smiled a lot more in her company, whereas McLaren's garage used to be a place of nerves and tense atmosphere for him.

Yes, if someone asked him about Y/N, Ayrton would say she was his friend. Someone he never had after leaving Brazil.

"How do I say in Portugese that I can't eat anymore?"

The girl asked, lying on her towel stretched out on the hull of the motorboat belonging to the Senna family.

Y/N shielded the sun with her hand and glanced at Ayrton, who laughed at her question, sitting next to her and smoking a cigarette.

"It's not funny, your mom wants to fatten me up so that I'm heavier and slower than you on the track."

"Não aguento mais, tô chei", but even if you say it in Portugese, my mom won't listen to you anyway."

"I've never eaten such delicious food, but when we get back, I probably won't fit into my clothes anymore."

He released smoke from his lungs and involuntarily glanced at her when she turned onto her stomach and closed her eyes. Her hair, still wet from bathing in the lake, stuck to her shoulders, and her skin, once pale, slowly began to take on a blush from the sun.

"You look good, so don't worry."

"I didn't say I would look bad, just that I won't fit into my pants anymore."

"As long as you can fit into the car, you'll be fine."

The girl snorted, "Well, in that case, I have quite a reserve."

Y/N gathered her hair behind her shoulder and settled more comfortably, exposing herself to the pleasantly warming rays of the sun. Ayrton glanced down her body and only when the heat from his cigarette burned his fingers a little, he snap out of it. Did he really like the girl, or was it just that he spent so much time with her that he got used to her? He didn't know the answer to that question, but he knew that sometimes he found himself staring at her for a bit too long. Despite being a few years younger than him, she had feminine charms. He also objectively thought that the girl was attractive.

She didn't have much of a different opinion about him either because in her eyes, Ayrton was indeed a handsome man. He was tall, athletic, had beautiful brown eyes and hair of the same color, which often fell in curls onto his forehead. She liked his smile and the way he wrinkled his nose, which, like most of his body, was covered in freckles. But Ayrton appealed to her only as an older teammate, someone who was completely out of her reach, and for whom she was probably just an insignificant kid. At least that's what she thought.

They spent time at the lake until late afternoon, as for dinner, besides Ayrton's parents, his sister with Bruno, his nephew, was also supposed to appear. Upon returning to the Senna family's home, the girl took only a quick shower and threw on a thin, white dress because even though the day was slowly coming to an end, the temperature was still high. They spent the evening on the terrace, and time passed in a very pleasant atmosphere. Mrs. Senna made sure that only delicious dishes appeared on the table, while Mr. da Silva entertained the company with stories and jokes. Although Y/N didn't speak anything in Portugese except for the short phrases Ayrton had taught her, there were no communication problems for a moment. At one point, little Bruno grabbed the radio and turned up the volume, pulling the girl by the hand and inviting her to dance. The girl, already somewhat tipsy from wine, agreed without hesitation and followed the six-year-old, dancing with him barefoot on the still warm concrete. Ayrton's mother and sister sang along with the song, his father clapped his hands, and Ayrton himself looked at the scene with tenderness, laughing and sipping his beer. She took the boy in her arms and spun with him, dancing, to which Bruno laughed out loud. Although Ayrton's family had only met Y/N a few days ago, he was convinced, seeing with his own eyes, how much they liked her. It meant a lot to him.

"Tio, agora tio Ayrton!"

Bruno shouted and pointed at the man when a new song started playing. Ayrton laughed and shook his head, to which his sister started pulling his arm and, to the sounds of approval from the family, he stood up and approached the girl, who put the boy down on the ground.

"Querida senhora," he extended his hand towards her, slightly bowing, "may I?"

Y/N chuckled and nodded, extending her hand, which was met with numerous shouts and whistles.

"I can't dance, I can't dance at all."

She said through laughter when he pulled her closer and placed his hand on her waist.

"Everyone can dance to Brazilian rhythms, trust me."

Ayrton replied with an assuring smile and spinned her around, catching her again after a moment. They danced, understanding each other without words, laughing only when one of them accidentally bumped into someone or stepped on someone's foot.

The girl didn't know if her cheeks were burning from the sun, the alcohol, or the fact that she felt embarrassed by being so close to him. But she felt light and happy enough not to dwell on it. She wanted this evening to last as long as possible.

However, at some point, Bruno fell asleep on the chair, and Viviane took him in her arms, announcing that she would put him to bed and she will also take a rest, wishing everyone a good night. Ayrton's mother, seeing that his dad had had enough beer, took him by the arm and, amid numerous protests, escorted him inside. The girl helped carry the dishes to the kitchen, and when she brought in the last batch of plates, Ayrton's mother hugged her tightly.

Y/N returned her embrace with a smile, wishing her a good night before returning to the terrace.

Seeing the expression on her face, Ayrton smiled too.

"They liked you, but I'm sure you noticed that yourself."

"They are very kind," the girl replied, closing the terrace doors, "you have a truly wonderful family."

Y/N approached the table and took a chair to sit on it, but Ayrton straightened up and patted his knees, indicating that she should sit on them. The girl accepted the invitation without protest and sat on them sideways, embracing him around the neck.

"I'm glad you agreed to come here with me," he said, looking into her eyes, to which she smiled.

"I'm glad you invited me."

For a moment, they looked at each other in silence, she on his lap, with her hand on his bare shoulders, he with one hand on her waist and the other caressing her exposed thigh. He raised his hand and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, touching her flushed cheek. The girl smiled at his gesture and closed her eyes.

"You're important to me, you know?"

"I am?"

She asked, looking at him again.

Ayrton nodded, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Y/N threaded her fingers into the hair resting at the base of his neck, stroking it lightly. At one point, without thinking or saying a word, he leaned towards her and kissed her. She kissed him back, touching his cheek with her other hand. Ayrton didn't break the kiss, he just hugged her tighter, pressing their bodies together. Y/N was returning each of his kisses and after a while their tongues started their love dance, rubbing against each other. Even though they were both a bit drunk, Ayrton wasn't sure how much he could afford. However, when she slightly opened her legs, giving him a silent invitation, he squeezed her thigh to which she sighed. He smiled against her lips, continuing to kiss her. He stroked her leg, moving higher and higher with each movement. When he felt the fabric of her underwear with his fingertips, he pulled away slightly, wanting to look at her face and see her reaction, but she pulled him closer again, connecting their lips in a kiss.

"Do not stop"

Ayrton smiled against her lips and deepened the kiss in response. He ran his fingers over her pussy and she purred softly. He began to slowly massage her through the fabric of her panties, but when they began to get in the way after some time, he pulled them off her with a quick movement.

His lips soon moved to her neck, marking it with kisses. She tilted her head, giving him better access to her. Ayrton accidentally slipped the strap of her dress, but neither of them cared. The girl noticed it only when he sucked on her nipple, which made her moan involuntarily.

"You have to be quiet, can you do that?"

He asked quietly, glancing at her ecstatic face. She just licked her lips and quickly nodded. He ran his tongue over her nipple again, his hand still massaging her pussy. When he felt how wet she was, he slowly inserted his finger into her, but carefully watched her face, continuing to caress her breasts with his mouth. He looked at her, wanting to make sure they were both on the same page. However, his actions were perceived with enthusiasm, as the girl tilted her head back, letting out a muffled moans from her pursed lips. Ayrton smiled to himself, still peppering her breasts with kisses. He inserted his finger all the way and started moving it, expertly nudging her inner, sensitive spot. Y/N had a hard time staying quiet, especially when he added a second finger and his movements inside her started getting more precise and decisive. The girl covered her mouth with one hand and grabbed his wrist with the other and pushed him harder into herself, feeling that she was only seconds away from orgasm.

"Ayrton, I- oh my god…"

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck again and dug her nails into his bare shoulder.

"Kiss me, quick"

He said quietly, his breathing also quickening. She complied with his command and kissed him, making him muffle her moans with his mouth. Y/N came on his hand soon after, squeezing her eyes shut and tilting her head back. After a few moments, the girl sat up straight again, trying to calm her breathing. As she slowly began to realize what had actually happened, the blush on her cheeks intensified even more. She looked at him uncertainly, he laughed seeing her reaction and kissed her on the cheek.

"Don't look so innocent, you're quite a good one."

The girl felt ashamed and closed her eyes, cuddling into him, and he hugged her tightly.

"Promise me that no one in your family will sit in this chair for breakfast."

Ayrton chuckled and rubbed his hand on her back.

"I promise, don't worry about it," he rested his cheek on her head, "We can go somewhere else if you want."

The girl raised her head and looked at him.

"I won't be able to keep quiet, Ayrton. Your parents-" "Don't worry," he interrupted her, taking her panties thrown on the chair next to them and handing them to her hand, "I'll make sure you keep your mouth busy."

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #as12 #ayrton senna #ayrton senna x reader #classic f1

[baurbiediv]

jj w a gf who likes to bite him like randomly will walk up to him and bite his shoulder or when theyre holding ands shell just bite his hand and he thinks its so funny for some reason

love bites

PAIRING ➔ jj maybank x pogue!gf!reader

WARNING(S) ➔ reader is quite literally just biting jj

SYNOPSIS ➔ reader shows her love in a different way

A/N ➔ when i was reading the request i laughed because this is literally how i’d treat my man if i had one 😭😭 + was listening to cigarette daydreams while writing this?? i thought it was fitting

-

whether it was being close to one another, someone resting their head on the other’s shoulder, you and jj were always touching each other somehow.

you don’t know when or how you developed it but it sure did happen some way, somehow.

you’d been sitting at the wreck sitting with the group & next to jj, waiting for food when you slyly leaned over and lightly bit his shoulder before pulling away quickly and resting your head on his shoulder.

jj looked down at you then back at the rest of the group, before pointing at you, “did she just bite me?” he questioned.

sarah laughed and looked at him, “i didn’t see anything, so i don’t know what you’re talking about!”, although she saw the entire thing.

you laughed to yourself as jj went on an entire rant about how you bit him.

-

walking down the dock of the chateau, you smiled, hand in hand with jj. from the incredibly dangerous adventures to the quiet nights watching the water glisten in the moonlight, you were so incredibly thankful to have jj by your side.

you giggled before his hand up to your mouth before you bit it and you immediately heard him laugh, “what is it with you and biting me?”

you shrugged, “just gotta find some way to be closer to my boy.” you said smiling brightly.

“but why biting me? you could be kissing me.”

“ehh, still not close enough!”

jj smiled as he quickly kissed your cheek.

-

the group had been walking along the beach, scouring for a solid place to surf, and you couldn’t help but notice how good your boyfriend looked.

the outer banks skies were almost always painted the perfect shade of gold.

you sat in the sand along with sarah, “you guys coming?” john b yelled back at you guys, running towards the water. “in a few!” sarah responded back.

“sarah you ever think that your life would be different if you never met john b?” you said as you looked over at her.

she tilted her head as she thought about it, “i think about that almost everyday, i mean, i’d probably still be with topper, i’d probably still be unaware of what my dad and brother were up to, so yeah, my life would be pretty different.” she said laughing, “what’s on your mind?”

“i don’t know, i mean i’ve known jj for so long and we just got together. i mean i don’t think it’d be any different but i’m really falling in love with him.” you said as you watched him surf across a wave.

sarah nudged your shoulder lightly, “oo, i’ve never seen you so in love before!” she said smiling from ear to ear, this prompted you to laugh.

and she was right, you’d never been so in love with (biting) someone before.

-

after what seemed to be and felt like hours, you all had finally called it a day after surfing. (you and sarah had joined the others shortly after your conversation.)

you’d set your board down, groaning out loud before laying on top of it. “i know for a fact i’m gonna be sore tomorrow.” jj said as he quickly plopped down into the sand right next to you.

you rolled over propped your head on your elbow, looking at him, as he peacefully watched the sky.

not realizing the huge smile that was very evident in your face. kie took the moment to whip out her small polaroid camera and capture the moment.

“how freaking cute.” she said, grabbing the film from the small slot and shaking it, waiting for it to develop.

she handed it to you & jj smiling brightly.

you took this as a opportunity to bite his arm one more time before laughing.

-

#jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x you

[saddixie]

Other students with Victoria’s pokemon

Cater - Emolga

“Emolga darling~I have a new photo idea! This is definitely going to blew up on Magicam!”

Cater immediately took notice of Victoria and her pokemon and instantly want clout lmao. He absolutely adores the weird creatures and wanted to take pictures of them and upload them to Magicam, unfortunately, Victoria was wary about exposing her pokemon outside of NRC so she doesn’t allow him to take photos.

But after a while, Victoria relented and Cater immediately snatched the opportunity to take as much photos of her pokemon as possible. He likes a lot of the pokemon as they allow him to take photos of them as long as he’s respectful, but his favorite is Emolga because of how cute it is.

Victoria’s Emolga is quite the attention seeker, so when it saw how interested Cater is in it, it immediately began to do cute little poses for Cater to take pictures of it and Cater adores them. When the third year uploaded these photos, it blew up quickly as everyone was cooing how cute the electric flying squirrel is.

Cater and Emolga absolutely ate the popularity up, and the two began to meet each other more and more frequently for Cater to take pictures of it in different style, the two of them also grown closer by that time.

Cater's favorite photos of Emolga is when Victoria allow him to bring the sky squirrel pokemon to Heartslabyul and Emolga poses with the red roses, they're also the most popular photos on Cater's Magicam account.

Now every time Emolga sees Cater, it flew right at him and nuzzle its cheek against the third year (that may nor may not shock him) but Cater loves it anyway.

Cater also used Emolga's cuteness to get more food from Trey too lol, of course Emolga gets a share.

Floyd - Paldean Wooper and Clodsire

“Ahh! Koebi-chan has a funny looking creature! I wanna squeeze it~”

No/j

Out of everyone in this school, Floyd is the one that she's the most nervous about in terms of meeting her pokemon, she knows how unpredictable the eel is and worry for both his and her pokemon safety. Unfortunately for her, she had made a deal with Azul to have her aquatic pokemon swam in the tanks of Octavinelle and Floyd is close to Azul, so meeting was inevitable.

Floyd couldn't help it even with Victoria's warnings! Every single one of her weird monsters look so squishy in some way! Especially the brown armless axolotl that Victoria specifically told him not to touch it. Wooper likes the attention Floyd gives it too! So one day it ran up to him and Floyd couldn't contain it anymore so he grabs it began to squeeze it, laughing at its goofy smile as he stretches its face.

Unfortunately for the eel, his fun didn't last long because suddenly he got shot by Poison sting that made him drop the Wooper, apparently Clodsire thought he was bullying its baby so it poisoned him.

But Floyd didn't care, he's too infatuated with Clodsire goofy friend-like shape and face and wanted to squeeze it too! Victoria had to stop him from killing himself by his impulsive behavior.

The trainer warned him about how Paldean Wooper and Clodsire are are very poisonous, but did Floyd listen? Nope, he just wanted to squeeze them, and he complained a lot too, so to shut him up, Azul begs Victoria to just let Floyd hang out with Clodsire for once.

Clodsire soon got close to Floyd after seeing how happy the Wooper is when with the eel so it lets him play with its face as well, Floyd is happy for the whole day after that much to the relief of everyone.

He's also very interested in Clodsire's stabby spine, Victoria had to watch him more closely now because she does not know what he wants to do with her pokemon after finding out about that.

Silver - Ceruledge

"W-wait! Don't run away! I just want to train with you..."

Silver does admire Victoria for her ability to control different powerful monsters, but he never got a chance to interact with them because of either his job as Malleus's guard or because he's sleeping somewhere.

But one day, he woke up under a tree upon hearing the swinging sounds of sword, in his half-asleep state, he thought that he saw a person practicing with 2 glowing swords, but then he realize that it's actually just Ceruledge practicing her battling skill alone.

Silver watched in awe as Ceruledge displayed powerful and graceful sword skills, he wonder if he were to battle it, who would won? He wanted to get closer to get a better look, but accidentally stepped on a branch with causes Ceruledge to noticed him and run away.

Silver then approached Victoria after that asking about the pokemon and Victoria reveal that although Ceruledge is a powerful swordsman, it's usually shy and timid and would stay away from strangers, preferring to practice alone, contrary to its intimidating apperance.

The Diasmonia student asked if he could met and spar with it and Victoria agreed, only in the condition that Ceruledge also agree. Ceruledge hides behind Victoria when meeting Silver, still wary of him, so Silver decides to convince it by showing it his own sword skill, and this succeeded as the pokemon was intrigued.

The two had a sparing session and Silver felt like the pokemon did a 180 in personality, it was quick to attack him and is almost merciless in slashing him with its sword. Silver ultimately lost, and Ceruledge did a 180 in personality again when it panics, thinking that it sevearly hurt him.

Silver then began to frequently go to Ramshackle to practice against Ceruledge, and he became one of the few people that the pokemon isn't shy around.

#pokemon oc #pokemon #pokemon x twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst x pokemon #pokemon x twst #twisted wonderland x pokemon #twisted oc #twst oc #floyd leech #twst floyd #cater diamond #twst cater #twst silver #silver twst

[justwritedreams]

Irreplaceable | Kun

Pilot!Kun x Reader, soldier au

Word count: 1592 Genre: Fluff, action. Author: maari Warnings: mentions of military exercises and Kun being kind of angry bc that's hot Note: This is so short, I'm sorry 🥺 but it's my first story with him so I hope you like! Request: Could you please write something with Kun (WAYV/NCT) with him being a plane pilot? Idk, Top Gun Maverick vibes?

⪢ NCT Masterlist

Y/N adjusted her sunglasses better on her face while a smile played across her face, she saw her boyfriend looking for her on the beach and almost laughed when she saw him confused.

But she genuinely laughed when a much older woman approached him. Even from afar she could see the bad intentions of the woman who even caressed his arm.

Kun was already an extremely attractive man, with the air force uniform and the Ray Ban attracting everyone's eyes even more.

But she had no reason to be jealous, firstly because she knew he loved her, secondly because the scene was very funny.

She bit her lip to hold back a laughter as he politely walked away from the woman, saying something to her and looking around.

Y/N decided to help him, she came out from under the umbrella she was in and waved her hand to get her boyfriend's attention.

Not only did it work, but she also saw his relieved smile and without waiting he started walking towards her. As soon as he got close, Y/N threw herself into his lap, hugging his waist with her legs and his neck with her hands.

Kun smiled widely as he held her by her thighs.

“Are you laughing?” he asked in disbelief.

“Another fan approaching you?” She smiled evilly.

He shook his head.

“I love my job but going out in uniform has its downsides.”

It wasn't the first and probably wouldn't be the last time he was stopped by someone, whether to flirt or thank him for his service and effort.

"Oh really?" She looked him up and down. “I don’t see any disadvantages.”

She bit her bottom lip and Kun threw his head back, laughing.

“I'm going to start thinking you're only with me because of my uniform.” he said before touching their foreheads and placing a peck on her.

“That’s one of the reasons.” She caressed the back of his head, laughing.

Kun took the opportunity to go back under the umbrella and sat down on the sand with Y/N still in his lap, she then buried her head on his shoulder.

She wanted to make the most of what little time they had before he went back to base.

“Are you going to watch training today?” He asked, rubbing her back.

“I went last week.” she remembered. “Your commander is going to fight me, I’m not leaving the base.”

“I train better when you watch me.” He admitted, smirking.

She raised her head and looked at him, she wanted to bite his cheeks, which were turning pink, but she just squeezed them with her hands.

“If it’s for the good of the aeronautics then okay, I’ll go.” She moved closer to place a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“I will train with the new soldiers and we will have an international team to train with.” he began to speak, excitedly.

Y/N paid attention to what her boyfriend was saying, focused on the way he looked so happy as he shared it with her. She stroked his short hair.

She liked listening to him talk, the way his dimples appeared when he smiled made Y/N smile too.

They stayed on the beach for a while, before Y/N gave him a ride to the base. When they arrived hand in hand while Kun carried the suitcase in the other hand, they greeted the soldiers who passed by them and Kun turned to kiss her lips softly when he saw the commander ahead.

“See you in a bit, sweetheart.” he smiled and kissed her once more.

“Fly, my indomitable wing.”

Kun laughed and she watched him walk over to the commander, where he saluted.

Y/N had a silly smile on her lips and saw when the commander started walking towards her.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you again.” he greeted her and she quickly bowed.

“I say the same, Commander.”

“Come to watch the training again?”

“If I can, of course.”

He indicated for her to start walking and as soon as she did, he started walking beside her.

“You’re not supposed to.” She looked at him, scared. “But Kun trains much better when you’re at base, so I’ll allow it.”

She nodded and smiled restrainedly, following the commander to the communications room where they would have access to the aircraft's radios and built-in cameras.

Y/N was used to it, she already knew that aircraft 3 was his and focused on the camera, watching him put on his helmet. She couldn't contain her happiness at seeing him do what he loved so much.

She was anxious about training and missions, but she always believed him when he promised that he would return in one piece and well.

Kun was a responsible and committed soldier, he had a leadership spirit that infected others.

And even the training he took seriously, he prepared himself very well for the exercises. Flying was his life.

Y/N followed his career so much that she knew the basics of the exercises, if anyone walked in there would mistake her for someone on the team.

It was routine training so there wasn't much new, the training, the instructions were always the same.

However, when a soldier from the international team made a risky move with the airship, Y/N saw Kun's expression change.

He wasn't just serious, he was angry and she knew very well why, any kind of accident or something like that would be his responsibility, after all he was the team leader. And the foreign team was probably not paying attention to their safety.

Y/N frowned when she saw her boyfriend's airship perform a dangerous stunt and glared at the commander.

He didn't seem at all calm about it.

“Was he supposed to do that?” she asked quietly, seeing the commander shake his head.

“It’s getting a little too risky.” he said.

She tried not to show her concern, she trusted her boyfriend but she knew how he felt when a soldier from abroad didn't follow what was agreed and he felt obliged to show why they were following protocol.

She couldn't say that she hadn't felt her heart stop in her mouth every time his airship spiraled in the air or when it got too close to the other ones, both his own team and the other.

She only felt a little calmer when the exercise was over and the airship began to turn around to land at the base.

Y/N left the room along with the commander and the rest of the team monitoring the exercise, a little further back as she heard the noise of the airship getting closer and closer, ready to return to the ground once again.

When this happened, she was already outside and saw the soldiers leaving one by one and recognized her boyfriend from afar, holding his helmet.

She stiffened and hurried forward when she saw Kun quickly walk over to another soldier, holding him by the collar of his uniform after dropping his helmet on the ground.

Y/N's eyes widened when she saw her boyfriend glowering with hatred while shaking his colleague.

“Listen, Simpson, if you do that again in my territory…” the other soldiers also approached to push the two away. “I swear I will shoot down your aircraft in the air.”

“Stop being nervous, Qian. It was part of the protocol.”

“Part of protocol to almost rip off the left wing of my airship?!” he questioned irritably and shook the soldier once again, who simply laughed ironically.

“That’s enough, you two!” The commander ordered and the two walked away. “Get out of my yard before I make you two load the fuel for all the aircraft.”

The two looked at each other irritated and left in opposite directions after saluting their superior.

Y/N observed the scene a little further back seriously and with her arms crossed, her boyfriend walked towards her while his face softened when he saw her there.

"My angel." he said as soon as he was close enough to stretch his arms out to her.

However, before she threw herself into his arms, Y/N threw a stinging slap at his arm which he dodged, complaining.

"Ouch! What was this?" he asked, confused.

“You scared me, you know?” she complained. “My leg went wobbly three times thinking you were going to fall with that thing from the sky!”

He laughed softly and approached her, hugging her around the waist.

“I knew what I was doing.”

She continued to stare at him, angry.

“I will never see your training again, it’s decided.”

"You sure?" He asked, raising his eyebrows and she narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t fall because I knew you were waiting for me.”

“Shhh.” she brought her cold hand to his mouth, shushing him. “Don’t even say that as a joke.”

He moved closer to place a kiss on the top of her head.

“I would never leave you!” he said and she suppressed her silly smile.

“You better!" She pouted. “You look too handsome in uniform and fighting with someone for me to lose.”

He pretended to be offended.

“Ah, so that’s all there is to it?”

She smiled mischievously and brought her hand to the back of his head.

“Of course not, you fool.” she caressed his skin, watching him close his eyes at the affection. “You are unbearable but you are irreplaceable.”

“I’ll show you what’s unbearable at home.”

#kun imagines #kun fluff #kun x reader #qian kun imagines #qian kun scenarios #nct scenario #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct imagine #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #nct fluff #nct x y/n #nct x you #nct x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop x y/n #kpop x you #kpop x reader #requests #maari #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv fluff #wayv fanfic #wayv x reader #wayv x you

[blueaetherr]

he’s gonna love them

pairing: kylian mbappe x gn!reader [they/them]

warning(s): none

summary: the one about safety and security in the relationship

now playing: gonna love me by teyana taylor

The young day provided a calm atmosphere, the sun hanging low yet offering a sense of warmth in an area so cold. The wind came through, too, as the breeze slipped passed the opening of the windows. The sun and her heat, the wind and his chills—suddenly, there was balance, for the day and everyone else offered the opportunity to experience it to its fullest.

The couple, Kylian ad Y/N, who were lounging in bed, softly laughing, curling up into one another, gave a sense of balance to one another. When he told a joke, they would laugh (even if it wasn't funny). When there was one kiss, another kiss would follow soon after. When he opened up his arms, they would roll back into his embrace. If they were feeling the slightest touch of pain, he would soothe it with an acute massage.

It was only late morning and the young couple didn't want to get out of bed; they refused to. The idea itself, getting ready for the day, was exhausting simply just thinking about it. But they knew they couldn't be selfish. There was so much to do– Kylian with football and Y/N with their tasks for the today– so many other people they had to interact with—just so much this and that to attend to. Beyond one another, the two were needed by others far beyond their home.

But laying low from the outside world, escaping the tasks of the day, calmly drifting in and out of sleep, exchanging meaningful (and less) laughs and conversations. Sleeping in with your lover—Kylian sleeping in with his lover, Y/N sleeping in with their lover—the idea was all too pretty and attractive to pass up on, something so cherishing that you shouldn't want to miss out on. Maybe they could be a bit selfish for a minute and more.

The mood, low and quiet, soon kindly elevated when Kylian's hums began to float around the room. And that's when Y/N came through with a smile, one that was dimpled and reached their eyes perfectly as they cuddled into his body. It was their favourite song, Gonna Love Me. With nothing else to do, they just sat back and listened to him, admiring everything that was their partner.

Because Kylian also saw everything that was his partner. Always did he want to hug and squeeze them with so much love and dote. He loved spending his nights with them, and he did appreciate them (through lyrics and his own originality). He would stay up late if it meant witnessing them for a second when they got back home late. There was no doubt that Y/N felt safe and secure with Kylian.

When his hums fell low in the room, a playful look appeared on Y/N's face. "I don't think that's how Teyana sings it."

"Really?" His eyes widened before he let out a small chuckle. He should've known; Y/N was far too judgemental yet somehow, in a good way, in a way that he didn't mind. He fell back on the bed. "I thought I hummed it pretty well."

Y/N scoffed, shaking their head. "Then you must not be hearing yourself. I think—" They were cut off as Kylian pulled them back down on the bed, climbing over them to offer his playful words and body touch. In this short but sweet moment, there were laughs and kisses and overall enjoyment. Nothing less than the most.

Exhaling loudly, they turned their head to look his way. Once again, they offered him a smile, one that was kind and sincere. Tooking his hand into theirs, they declared, "Thank you, Kylian."

His face pulled together, confused, something Y/N always found adorable. "For what?"

"I love this. Just—" they let their hands run over his bare shoulders, sighing, "just being here with you every day. It's both a blessing and a curse." The two shared a small laugh together. When it all fell flat, they leaned further into his embrace, "But I'll side more with it being a blessing."

Slowly but surely, Kylian's face burst with happiness as he brought his partner close. Felt happiness for himself, felt happiness for Y/N. 'Cause that's all he wanted for them.

When he sings or hums, he wanted them to feel deeply serenaded. When he cooks, he wanted them to feel nourished and whole. When the two get intimate, he wanted to make them feel good, physically and emotionally. When he takes them out on a date, he wanted them to feel overwhelmingly loved and cherished for who they were. When he wraps his arms around them, he wanted them to feel safe.

That's all he cared about; Y/N. If they were okay then everything else would be alright.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe fics #kylian mbappe fanfiction #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe oneshots #kylian mbappe blurbs #kylian mbappe blurb #kylian mbappe oneshot #kylian mbappe x reader #gender neutral reader #football imagines #football imagine #football fanfic #football blurbs #football angst #black writers #black!reader #kylian mbappe x black!reader

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c3. preview

simon riley x original character.

abstract: Simon here, I saw Jude again, she's still going on about her theories, whatever. it's not even funny anymore and she has some weird secret I want to find out… still, she's a fucking menace to society. idk what's wrong with her probably got dropped on her head on purpose as a kid. don't blame the parents.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: The Fruits, Paris Paloma.

In the end, she did hear back from Price. An email. 'Scherzi!' She shouted out loud in her apartment. She sat down on the couch and Jinx hopped on with her, sniffing her laptop. An email from the captain, an invitation to a briefing, to discuss the situation. Tomorrow after your last session at 5pm. 'No vabbe, me fa parià…' she mumbled and wrote back that she would be there.

'So, I wanted to update you on your patient. We spoke with him and three other soldiers about joining us to the next mission in Al-Jareena next week but he refused. Well…' he stopped, rubbing his beard in clear distress. 'He got up and came up to me saying his injury is not fully healed and he will not be able to get deployed. So I told him we needed him and he started to get nervous and left the room in a hurry.' She listened without intervening. 'I know you have an appointment with him one day before we leave. I was wondering if you could let me know if you find out something about this, he's required to leave with us, otherwise we'll have to report him. His doctors cleared him.' He showed her a piece of paper, sliding it across the table.

'Too risky.' It was Simon that spoke. He was British, his voice was deep. He had been debating on intervening in the meeting from the moment Price asked him to be present. He asked him cause he trusted him, and valued his opinion. Jude could have been informed and educated with her little theories and stories, but she didn't know how things worked in the army. This wasn't Cluedo. She had the same attitude when she walked in the room, maybe a bit less stiff. He took his time exploring her. Her pretty green eyes, her nose, her neck. She wore a blouse this time, with grey trousers. She still had those shiny high boots. She had her hair up, a blonde ponytail. He looked at her jaw. She had a mole on her cheek. He shook her hand, he could smell her deodorant. Her skin was warm, soft. He liked talking to her. Her voice still sounded weird, he couldn't pick up a particular accent. He understood she would't let it go.

'I think you're waisting an opportunity.'

'I think you're thinking too much about it.'

I think I want to brake your neck. She was mad now, he could see her, he could feel it. They weren't listening. She stood up and thanked the two for inviting her to the meeting, she assured them she would keep them updated. Her smile was fake, she still wanted to be polite even thought she thought they were both fucking stupid. Ghost didn't feel guilty for going so hard on her, he looked at her leave while she was trying to hide her anger. He said what he really thought, that was what he had been trained to do. 'What's her deal?' he asked the captain on his way out. 'Jude?' the man looked up, then shook his head.

notes: translation: 'Scherzi!', you're joking! 'No vabbe, me fa parià' Naples dialect for 'you're making me laugh'.

notes: Saturday or Sunday for full chapter, when do you want it?? replies and reblogs are highly appreciated!!!

love, mare.

taglist:

@ummmmmwat @ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #ghost fanfiction #ghost headcanons #simon ghost x reader #call of duty #cod fic #cod modern warfare #141 headcanons #task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #cod 141 #cod #mw2 141 #cod fanart #tf141 #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #ghost call of duty #captain price #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod mw3

[sweetaliencheeks]

THE ONE WHERE HE SAVES HER

“Hello, I was told that you had booked this room” I peeked into the bedroom and greeted my guest with the sweetest voice I could fake. It was as dirty and desolate as every other room in the hotel. The red carpet was stained, the bedding was discoloured and the walls marked and scratched with many untold stories. Everything in there seemed to be setting me up for yet another terrible evening. But something felt off nonetheless. It didn’t smell as usual, it smelled more of what seemed to be gunpowder than it did of cheap candles and liquor.

“Yeah, no shit” a gruff voice mumbled from the other side of the space, making me stop dead on my tracks and wonder if I really should step inside to greet him at all “Who are you?”

“I’m your hostess” I shrugged with as much confidence as I could, keeping a cheery voice and gripping the keys tightly between my fingers as the door shut behind me. I saw my guest in front of the big window on the wall opposite from where I was standing. Face deep into some strange material I couldn’t figure out just yet.

“Is that what you’re calling them these days?” he snickered, never taking his eyes off of whatever it was that he was fidgeting with at the base of the tripod. I let out a heavy sigh before throwing my key onto the small kitchenette counter to my right and let myself crumble onto the bed that sat right in the middle of the room. The rough red velvet prickled the back of my thighs and arms.

“I guess…” I sighed, rolling over to my side so I could look at him, making sure that my cleavage was sitting just right “Why the sudden change from your usual?”

“My usual?” he scoffed. He was indeed a regular costumer, especially at the bar downstairs. I’d seen him a couple times drinking there by himself and scaring away every hostess that tried to approach him. I had always been good with the most difficult guests, so I naturally couldn’t have passed on the opportunity to spend an evening with such an infamous one. All my colleagues had refused to take the job but I knew of him, I could never forget a face. Let alone one like his. He scoffed “Are ya drunk?”

“Although it would definitely make your company a lot more pleasant, I’m not allowed to drink on the job. You seem to be though.” pointing a lazy finger at him, I watched as he slowly lowered his ears and bared his teeth.

“Listen here, lady. I ain’t here for ya, I’m working.” he was right in my face, angrily glancing between me and the guns and materials scattered on the carpet. As if I couldn’t see them. I shrugged.

“I figured as much” I took a cigarette out of my packet and it rolled between my fingers as I searched for a lighter among all the funny stuff in the drawer of the bedside table “I’m working too, you know” I sparked it up and took a drag, before blowing some circles towards the ceiling “And I don’t wanna be with you either.”

“Good, then leave” I chuckled dryly, smoke scratching my throat before I slid off the bed to sit beside him.

“Wish I could, buddy, but they’re watching me” I whispered in a mocking way, wiggling my fingers in front of his face “I’m stuck here” I picked up a spare scrap of metal from the floor and examined it “Now can we just pretend that we’re going at it? Otherwise they’ll fire me” the glare he shot at me made me quickly put the small orange piece back where it was “Let’s say… Five minutes?” I flicked his ear with a grin, which made it slightly flutter and caused him to scratch it.

“Very funny, make it an hour” he kept his eyes on his stuff, I’m not even sure that he had ever even glanced at me for anything other than to threaten me when I picked up his spare part. But his voice had gone up to a cockier demeanour, which made me silently sigh in relief at the slightly less tense atmosphere.

“Sure” I put my cigarette out on the ashtray by the window, right next to where he was sitting, and carefully made sure that my arm lightly brushed against his side. As it made its way back towards my lap I couldn’t help but let my curiosity take over again, and picked up a small gun that I promptly aimed at him, trying as well as I could to focus on the middle of his face. I made a small laser like noise and set it back down before he could say anything.

“Never thought I’d say this, but you might actually be useful” he picked up the small weapon and forcefully handed it back to me “That dirty mug could have someone in here”

“Never wanted anything more than to be an accessory in a murder” I pursed my lips and stared at him, eager for an explanation as to how and why I could ever be useful to him in any way.

“None of this would actually kill him, just knock him out” another click, and the whole thing was nearly set “I hope…” he spoke under his breath and rolled his eyes at the worried expression on my face “Hold this.” before I could protest, I was holding yet another weapon.

“And then what?” I examined carefully every single line of both objects as he kept shuffling stuff around.

“My partner will pick him up and trade him to the Nova Corps for units” I nodded as I set all the dangerous crap back on the floor. Didn’t want to have anything to do with him, or the whole mission, or the possible murder.

“That doesn’t sound very clean” I said leaning my back against the bed.

“It ain’t, it’s just business” his answer was as short and sharp as he was. But he seemed sure of what he was about to do.

“How can you be sure that you’ll get your units?”

“I got this” my eyes widened before a grimace took over my whole face as he took something out of a big black bag.

“Is that a leg?” I gasped, hands going up to cover my mouth.

“His leg” this guy was actually walking around carrying a real prosthetic leg in his bag, and was totally calm and laughing about it.

“Right… To be fair, I’d trade my leg for units” I chuckled “I’d rather be free with one leg” took me a second to realise that he had turned around and was now staring at my face, clearly confused by what I had just mentioned “What? You thought I was here by choice? I’m a prisoner. We all got bounties on our heads, you just wouldn’t know because they’re probably too low to be on your radar” I scoffed, not failing to notice how my tone suddenly got more defensive.

“I see… How did a hummie end up here?” and in that moment, he looked at me. Really, looked at me. He was now fully facing me, still kneeling on the floor, ears slightly flat and big brown eyes locked in mine. I had to catch my breath. It was hard to figure if I was intimidated or flustered.

“I escaped my original master, but things got tough real quick. So really a string of bad choices, I guess. Money, glamour, an easy way out, you know? I thought it was gonna be like Pretty Woman, that someday someone would show up with money to buy me diamonds and a nice dress to take me out for dinner in” I knew he certainly wasn’t going to understand the reference, but it was the only way for me to talk about it without shedding a single tear “But instead of getting the love and the fancy suite of Richard Gere, I’m stuck in here with this” I tried to lighten the mood by gesturing towards him with a smirk. But I was uncomfortable, and embarrassed, and terrified. Altogether lonely and totally surprised that he had suddenly taken a genuine interest in me.

“Watch it” I had to check twice to be sure that it was a smile that I had seen on his face. He had now stopped fidgeting and was holding a small box between his hands.

“How did you end up here?” I asked out of politeness, I already knew what the answer was.

“Units, obviously. Always get the shitty side of the plan though. Probably because if those ugly mugs caught me, I’d get thrown in prison, too” he stood up to check on his stuff again, closing one eye to see if the aim was accurate.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you would”

“I never wanted to end up like this, lady. It wasn’t my choice, ya know? They just broke me” and so did his voice before he cleared his throat. I felt a sharp pang of guilt in my chest and my stomach dropped slightly.

“Would you like a drink? I’m here to work after all” I tried yet again to lift our spirits. Standing up on my wobbly high heels, I strutted towards the mini fridge under the desk.

“I’ll have one if ya have one” I shook my head before bending over to grab a bottle “Come on, aren’t you supposed to attend to everything your clients demand?”

“Fine, I’ll have one if you tell me more about yourself” with my hand in a bag full of ice, I looked at him over my shoulder.

“There ain’t nothing to say about me” he mumbled.

“I’m sure there’s plenty. Please? I’m not allowed to tell anyone. I mean, who would I even tell? This is the longest chat I’ve had with someone in probably years” I put the lid back on the bottle and threw it in the trash before walking back towards him.

“Really? How come you ain’t got friends? Very surprising giving your pretty face and pleasant personality” I rolled my eyes, there was no way I was going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I was pleased with his musing.

“You’re so funny” I paused, realising that I didn’t even know his name. But maybe it was better that way, so I just began walking back towards the window. My feet were killing me and I could feel my dress getting into places where it clearly shouldn’t be.

“I know, your friend in room 282 tells me all the time” with a terrible wink, he set up the last piece.

“Of course they do” I sat back down on the floor and handed him his glass “Sir”

“Thanks”

“Why bounty hunting?” I leaned back on my hands and crossed my legs at the ankles.

“I'll tell ya something I've learned over the years, you can save the galaxy and take units” he took a long sip and looked outside through the small water droplets that slid through the glass “You can save millions of people by killing a few bad ones and still win”

“Didn’t expect you to be a good guy” I took a sip of my own glass, and shuddered at the foreign feeling “Who broke you?”

“Don’t know exactly. My home planet was a lunatic asylum, most of my memories have been blacked out” a snort escaped my lips and made him snap his head towards me, a smile plastered on his face. A real one that I didn’t have to squint to see “That makes you laugh?”

“You’re a fucking mess. I get why you don’t really get along with people” I took another swig.

“Eh, who cares?” he shrugged, eyes locked in the bottom of his almost empty glass “I don’t really care about people, I spend most of time shooting them anyway”

“Fair point…” a few seconds went by before I craned my neck to look past him and his imposing arsenal to look at the street down below “Has he come out yet?”

“Nah. Probably in there with some ugly skank” he scoffed before finishing his drink.

“Anything against ugly skanks?” I asked in fake offense. He chuckled.

“Only against those who can’t keep their drinks coming” he shook his glass in front of my face, the nearly melted ice cubes tinkering against one another. I stretched out to reach for the mini fridge to grab another bottle that I promptly opened and served “You forgot one glass” he said nodding towards the glass in my hand.

“I’m not drinking anymore. If they come get me in the morning and notice that there’s alcohol in my system, you won’t be seeing me again” I drank the last drop and rolled my glass under the bed, thinking that I’d pick it up in the morning.

“As tempting as that sounds, ya won’t have to worry about tomorrow” in that moment, my heart tightened and tears quickly threatened to spill from my eyes.

“Are you going to kill me?” a choked, weak whisper coming out of a tight throat. Through the impending fear, I found myself wondering if death wouldn’t be a better outcome than whatever awaited me in that place. And there was also a slight relief for being a victim instead of an accomplice or a witness in the murder he was possibly about to commit.

“What? No? What is wrong with you, woman?” he stood up in a hurry, positioning himself behind the rifle that stood on the tripod.

“Wouldn’t be the first time” I began picking at my nails, my body instantly relaxing when it realised that he wasn’t actually about to shoot me.

“That’s terrible” his voice rumbled lowly in his chest as he focused hard on the man on the other side of the sidewalk below, several meters away from us. And then he pulled the trigger. A strident beep noise echoed through the room and then screaming on the street. That was all there was.

“That was quick. And that’s not the kind of thing you wanna hear around here” as I began to tidy up my hair, he stuffed all of his things back into the black bag. Leaving behind only the leg and a card under the bed.

“Right, quit fooling around, we need to go” as he dismantled all the contraptions he had spent hours setting up, I sat there in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Put your coat on, grab that bottle and fix your lipstick. We’re leaving” he slung his bag over his shoulder and behind his back, fumbling through his pockets to find a smaller gun.

“What?” with a tug on my hand, he started to guide me towards the door.

“Call me Prichard Clear, because I’m busting ya out of here”

So this one has been on my drafts for a little while, finally inspired enough to finish it. It’s long, I know, but I liked this idea (and I still don’t know how to add a “keep reading” thingy, sorry). Got a few other fics ready to be posted including a couple of requests that I’m very excited to share with you! I hope you’re over the emotional damaging experience that was GOTG3 and that you’re all being your amazing sexy selves 🤍

Love you all

#rocket x reader #fanfic #gotg fic #gotg vol 1 #gotg vol 3 #rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #gotg x reader #marvel #gotg2

[reginageorgesgirlfriend3020]

The day we meet (Part 2)

You were listening to draft day by Drake and you walked past this bench to see many people taking a picture together. You smiled at them as they smiled back. But then you noticed this beautiful girl who also smiled at you. She looked so familiar but at first you couldn't put your finger on it.

But you swear you saw her in a movie. You just kept on walking but then you remembered. 'Oh!' You thought to yourself. 'Where have I seen her before? Scream 5!' You thought to yourself.

But when she smiled at you you felt these little happy butterflies in your tummy like they wanna dance.

"Wow". Melissa said. "That woman is beautiful". She said.

"Go talk to her". Jenna said.

"Oh, no, I dont think I can do that. It seems like shes enjoying the music playing in her headphones". Said Melissa.

And everyone saw you dancing funny.

"She got moves through. I'll help you out. I'll be your wing man! I got you!" Jack Champion said to Melissa.

Melissa smiled. "Gosh shes adorable".

"I'll be back". Jack said.

He walked to where you are and patiently waited for you to turn around.

"Ah!" You said.

"Sorry!" Said Jack. "I didn't mean to scare you".

"Its okay". You said. You took off your beats headphones.

"Do you see that girl over there? Kinda tall? Long hair?" Said Jack.

"Yeah. Yeah I do. Why?" You said.

"She says the way you dance is adorable. And uh...she likes you". Said Jack.

"Hey I know her. She played Sam Carpenter in scream 5. Shes a good actress. And shes cute!" You said.

Jack smiled. "Come on. Let me introduce you to her. What's your name?" He asked.

"I'm (Y/n)". You said.

Jack gave Melissa 2 thumbs up. "I'm Jack". He said. "Nice to meet you too".

You nodded. "Nice to meet you too!"

He introduced you to everyone. You smiled and waved at everyone.

Melissa wanted to give you a hug. She didnt know if she should go for it but she did.

Melissa stood up and gave you a hug. And you hugged her back.

"Sorry". Said Melissa. "I'm a hugger. I'm Melissa"

You smiled at her kindly. "I'm a hugger too! I'm (Y/n)".

Melissa smiled warmly at you. "I saw you dancing over there".

You felt embarrassed. "Oh". You said. "Sorry you saw that".

Melissa giggled. "It was cute...the way you dance".

You laughed. "Thank you".

"We have dance breaks too". Jenna said to you. "Yeah, the other day we had a dance break while in central park". She said.

"You did?" You asked.

"Mhm". Said Melissa.

"That's pretty cool". You said. "I like to dance. And if you're lucky I may give you a little private dance. If you were my girlfriend". You said.

You felt the opportunity to shoot your shot with her so you did.

Melissa giggled. "I may take you up on that offer!!"

You giggled. You really started to like Melissa right away. You could feel she had a protective presence about her. And that shes safe to be around and that shes really cool.

"We are thinking of getting a coffee. Would you like to go with us?" Melissa asked you.

"Sure!" You said.

While everyone walked in front of you and Melissa it's the perfect chance for you to get to know her more.

"I can buy you coffee if you want. Do you like iced coffee?" Melissa asked you.

"I love iced coffee!!" You beamed. "Sorry". You said.

Melissa laughed slightly. "My treat". She said.

"Thank you ". You said.

"You're welcome" She said.

And you weren't sure what came over you but you decided to hold her hand as she held yours too. You and Melissa smiled at each.

After you and her got iced coffee you walked back to the bench.

I know how this is gonna sound but...will you go on a date with me?" Melissa asked you.

"Yes. But I also wanna be your girlfriend". You said.

Melissa kissed you on the lips as you kissed her back.

"Is that a yes?" You asked.

"That's yes!!" Said Melissa.

#scream 6 #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #Jack Landry x reader #melissa barrera x reader #melissa barrera

[doll-r-t]

Lost Pearl Part 19: A Snow Day

Viking!Syverson x reader

TW: sexual tension, Sy being possessive

You snuggled deeper into your pillow. It was getting colder by the day and if you thought it was freezing when you first arrived it was nothing to now. Winter was here and you had no idea how you would survive it. Syverson had noticed your almost constant shivering and yesterday he had come to your room late in the evening. He had something in his hand that looked like a bedpan. But it turned out to be a bed warmer. You put in hot coal and stick it under the blanket on the far end of the bed. It will heat up your bed and keep you warm for the night. Syverson had clearly instructed that if you use it to either get him or Gisla. He was scared you would burn yourself. Once he had put the hot coal in he put it underneath your bed sheet. “If you need anything else please come to me anytime.” He bowed slightly before kissing your hand. 

    Ocre had been observing Syverson’s behavior. He was giving you gifts and was showering you with all kinds of affection. For anyone in Warhorse, it was obvious that he was courting you. As it was the northern tradition to prove to the woman of your affection that you could provide for her. Not only with gifts but also with affection and listening displaying that he will respect and protect her. It is also important for the woman to know that a man is a good listener in case she dies in childbirth so he can tell the child about its mother. Yet, it seemed like all of this was not obvious to him. Ocre had to admit it was funny seeing the otherwise though Captain follows you around like a lost puppy waiting for approval of his gifts. And even funnier that you were so oblivious to it. Ocre could not wait to see how this turned out. He just hoped he did not have to lock you two in a closet. 

As it turns out he did not need to as another opportunity presented itself. One that was more effective - A snow day. 

You had slept through the night, cozy and warm. The only problem now was waking up. You did not even have your warmer dress on. It was not needed and you were so happy. You hated sleeping in thick closing. Prefer to sleep in a small shirt that only covered your breasts and a skirt that sat on your hips flowing down to your ankles. It was made of pure linen. You had not slept in it for a while and finally because of Syverson’s gift you could. But now you had to drag yourself out of bed and face the cold air. Something you definitely were not happy about.                                                

Gisla came into the room and chuckled at you. You were glancing at her from underneath your blanket, only your upper face was visible. “I will get a fire started.” She handed you a warm mug of coffee. “You will need the new shoes Syverson has given you and the gloves. It snowed overnight and-” But you did not hear more. You did not care that the cold was creating goosebumps on your arms and legs. You jumped out of bed. Slipping in the pair of houseshoes you kept next to your bed and ran out of your room. 

You ran past the guards and some stunned servants. In record time you were outside. You gasped. The entire town was coated in white, like a blanket. You took a tentative step forward, halting right in front of the snow. Slowly you squatted down. It was sparkling like thousands of pearls. Hesitantly you reached out, but before you touched it you halted. What would it feel like? You did not know. You pressed your hands in the snow and withdrew them quickly. It was so soft! and cold. You looked at your hand. Instead of the white pearl, you had expected to be on your hands you saw water droplets. It was melting quickly on your hand. You were so fascinated that you had not even realized that Syverson and Ocre rounded the corner. You touched the snow again looking at the imprint it left. “Having fun?” Ocre called out. You turned to them. “It snowed look.” You pointed at the snow in front of you. And if they could not see it you scooped some into your hands and walked over to them. “See?” Syverson had not said a word yet. The snow melted so you quickly said. “Oh, there is more.” You ran back to the spot where you had picked up the snow and took some more. “Here.” You looked at Syverson, your eyes were bright and shining with excitement. “Is it true you can make a man out of snow? Rosamund told me. I have never seen snow. It is so cold” You rambled on. “Oh, we see that,” Ocre smirked. This pulled Syverson out of his trance. He cleared his throat and with a death glare, he pushed Ocre away from you. You looked at him confused but then Syverson took off his coat. He quickly put it around you. He barked at the guards that had come closer to you and at Ocre. “Do you not have anything to do? How about night duty for a week and taking care of the stables? Go now.” Syverson’s eyes were sparkling with furry and his chest was pushed put. It made you tingle. He seemed even more enormous. He had left his arm around you, pushing you up against his chest, covering your front with his body. 

Syverson had been so stunned when he saw you first. It was like everything around him was non-existent. He had never seen you so scarcely dressed. Your skin had goosebumps all over but he nearly choked on air when you turned and he saw your nipples pushing against the fabric. He could almost make out the color around them. He felt a tightening in his pants. They looked so inviting and he would love to keep you warm in bed with this cold. Your hair was not pushed back in a bun but open. You looked so beautiful. In a simple two-piece dress, hair all-natural, no jewelry. Your legs looked perfect, whether you wished to have them around his hips or head he did not mind. He would like to trace every aspect of your body with his tongue. Your hips looked like they were made for him to wrap his hand around. Then he saw how all the other men around him looked at you. He was ready to pull their heads off, even though he was looking at you the same. 

He breathed easier now that you were in his arms again. “Yes, we can build a snowman, my Princess. But first.” He grabbed you and lifted you into his arms. “Have I not given you warm clothes?” He asked bemused. “Oh.” You looked down at yourself feeling your face heat up. “I got a bit too excited. I never saw snow.” He chuckled, kissing you on your cheek. “Well then get dressed quickly and we can go out again. Although I do think you are very beautiful right now.” They passed a guard who looked at part of your exposed legs. Syverson grabbed you tighter to him. “Although too many others appreciate it too.” You giggled. “And what if I like their appreciation,” You teased. He practically growled at you. “Well, then I will not have time to build a snowman with you. I will be far too busy fighting every single man in Warhorse.” You shook your head smiling. He opened the door to your room. “I doubt it.” “Do not challenge me, Princess.” He promptly threw you on the bed. You yelped. But before you could scold him, he was climbing on top of you. He held you down by your arms. “Do you wish to challenge me?” His breath caressed your lips. It made you unable to think straight. “Maybe you should proof your strength to me.” Without hesitation, he laid himself fully on you making you feel his entire body weight, all the strength he had in his body, and how much bigger he was than you. He interlaced his hands with yours holding them above your head. “You are the most dangerous woman I have ever met.” You glanced from his lips to his eyes questioning him. “You are smart, cunning, strong, witty, and beautiful. This should be forbidden. It would make everyman’s head spin. Especially when you smell so intoxicating.” Your body felt like it was on fire, you were squirming underneath him. Willing him to do something. He leaned down, getting closer and closer to your lips. 

Yet, he forewent them and traced your cheek with his nose down to your jaw. He kissed there, slowly down to your neck. He gave a small nip and soothingly licked over it. You could not help and moan out. You had never felt such a thing. “Dangerous indeed. You taste as good as you smell.” With that he went on to your ears, nibbling there. He still held your hands squeezing them once in a while. Syverson was trying so hard to stay still. His pants were so tight and all he wanted to do was lower them and lift your skirt. To feel your warm heat around him. 

You lay breathless underneath Syverson. His smell is surrounding you. You could not think straight. You had never felt like this before. What was happening to you? A couple of months ago you would be appalled at this thought. Yet, now you reviewed the attention this big broad man gave you. Every inch of him screamed dangerous, fighter, who could kill you easily but all you wanted to do was fall into his arms. As you had never been held as gently by anyone as Syverson held you. If you had not seen him fight you would not believe that he was such a beastly bear in the battlefield thinking him more of a teddy bear. 

Your heart was beating wildly, and for the first time you came to the North, your body felt like it was too hot. You could not help but push your chest against him. To caress his buzzed head, and trace your thumb on the side of his beard, down along his neck to his shoulders, hugging him tightly to you. Syverson let up a bit. Pulling back to look into your eyes. “You are so beautiful.” He caressed your eyebrow with his thumb down to your cheek. Cupping your face, he leaned in pressing his forehead to yours.

He wanted to say more but he was at loss for words. His body was burning with what he was not sure but now he understood how his father always dotted on his mother, the constant need to touch her. 

He pulled away kissing your forehead, lingering for a while. Your heartbeat had calmed down a bit. You closed your eyes breathing him in and the feel of his warm, a bit copped lips on your forehead. And you thought you had never felt something so gentle in your life. Your father always kissed your mother on the forehead. It was not common to kiss openly in court but so your father reverted to kissing your mother on the forehead to show his admiration. 

Syverson’s kiss made something bloom in your chest. 

The heat of the moment was gone and all there was left was a quiet intimacy. Like a soft breeze on a spring day. You pulled your arms from around him putting them on his chest. Syverson took it as a sign to move off you, even if this was not your intention. To your relief, he laid down next to you. At once you both started to laugh, like children. You turned to your side while Syverson just turned his head. His long legs were dangling off the bed. This is how you spent the rest of your morning. Talking quietly, sharing stories and you asking a million questions about snow. Syverson would make you constantly laugh with his stories about his mischievous self. 

“One time I and Ocre had the bright idea to get my father’s war horse and two pieces of flat wood. We bound it to the horse and made it run. As you can imagine we did not get far.” You giggled at the thought of Syverson falling face first into the snow. “But like the idiots we were we did not give up and turn back to the warm hall.” “Oh no, Sy please tell me you did not further torment that poor horse.” You reached out touching his arm. It was the first time you had called him Sy and neither of you had noticed. It was so natural. “Sadly we did. We got on the horse and we rode to a nearby hill. We rode up and then tried, and failed too many times to go down standing on the wood.” You shook your head thinking to yourself boys. “Why did you try and stand on it? Why did you not sit on it? Would that not have been easier?” Syverson frowned for a moment then turned to you again with a glint in his eyes. “See this is why I need you here,” he laughed, “Can you imagine what mischief we could have done if we grew up together?” “Well I certainly know my father would have even more grey hairs and Armand would have died of shock.” Syverson snorted. “Yeah, probably better we did not.” Throughout your conversation, Syverson’s hand had inched closer and closer to yours finally lazing it together. “Will you try going down the hill with me?” You whispered, suddenly feeling shy. “Sitting of course.” You hastily added. Syverson looked at you his eyes widened. Had you just asked him to do an activity? He did not think you ever asked him for anything. It must mean he was doing something right with his courting. For a while, he felt unsure, and a bit scared that you would not like his courting but now it seemed that he was doing something right. “I would love to.” He glanced down at you. “But you will need to put on warmer clothes.” He smirked at you. Instead of feeling embarrassed like you usually would you just laughed. “Well, this is the first time a man has asked me to put on clothes.” You had no idea where it came from but it was worth seeing Syverson’s jaw open in shock.

PLEASE leave comments

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#captain syverson x you #captain syverson #syverson x reader #captain syverson x reader #syverson #sand castle (movie) #syverson x you #henry cavill #syverson imagine #captain syverson imagine

[blueeandyellowmakesgreen]

so @strangeswift gave me a writing prompt of will bonding with someone through art, and mike getting jealous and i got.. uh.. carried away 😁😁

anyway, hope you enjoy it!!

will finds himself painting a lot lately. due to their, er, current situation, it was hard to find the best art materials, but he guesses it was a perfect opportunity to try out more sketching just to get it out of his system.

he sits on an empty bench near hawkins high, currently waiting for mike to finish his volunteering shift. mike actually asked him to stay with him, but he insisted he needed some fresh air alone. he tried to ignore mike’s hurt puppy expression and the somber way he said ‘oh, okay.’ as he requested it.

he didnt know what he was drawing. he practically had two full pages full of scribbles that amounted to nothing, that it led him to exhale out of frustration. he places the crumpled pages close to him so he makes sure to properly throw it later. he hated not being able to make things. it was the only way to keep him distracted from his thoughts, but his mind just decided…not to cooperate. the brain’s funny like that. will’s brain is funny like that. he had the biggest art block since the entire world ended and all that could occupy his mind was his stupid unrequited crush. so sue him for not making the creative juices flow enough.

that is, until he sees a particular guy at his proximity. he looked like a student, and he was talking with his friends. he seemed cheerful, a bright spirit with the way his laugh projects from where will was sitting. long, curly hair brunette, with kind eyes. he was wearing an oversized polo with that was effortlessly tucked into his shorts. if will was staring any longer like a creep, he could have sworn he saw piercings under his nose too.

and before will knew it, will draws a stroke, then two. it didnt take long until he was drawing a wisp of the boy’s hair, building it up. absentmindedly, his hands begin to move on its own as he puts in a couple of short strokes in a certain area. the lines lead to a nose with a strong bridge. he transitions to putting quite some detail in the subject’s lips, and then the kind eyes will took in great detail of.

just a couple of details, some subtle shading and… done.

will marvels at his new creation, and he found it hard not to stare. mostly because he couldnt believe he was capable of drawing something this good. he believed at least, that it was enough to capture this person’s beauty, that was worth something. and even if he’s the only one he’d think that, he’ll hold it close. he lets himself be proud of this one.

‘’tsk. damn, i knew i was attractive, but…’’

will jumps at the voice behind him. as if on instinct, he swiftly fumbles to close his sketchbook and set it aside. his head darts from his sketchbook, to the guy behind him.

and after a few short glances, will concludes this is not just some guy. this was the guy who he was just fucking sketching in public and now he has no idea how to get out of this situation that doesnt make him seem like a creep.

but he also found it rude to leave the guy hanging overall. he takes a deep breath. whats the harm in digging the grave a bit deeper?

‘’h-hey, uh.. listen about this...i dont normally do this. draw like this in public.’’ will manages to croak out. smooth.

the boy’s kind eyes smile. ‘’but im just soo handsome that i broke that habit out of you? im flattered.’’

‘’i-im sorry, i didnt mean to freak you out. let me just..’’ will stammers, in the process of tearing out the paper where the sketch is. before he starts to crumple it, the boy suddenly holds will’s hand. will knew it was to stop him, but the fact a boy is holding his hand thats not a threat in any way is making his brain short circuit a bit.

‘’before you do that..can i see it?’’ the boy asks earnestly. will could only stare, incredulous. ‘’come on, its my face. i at least have a right to see it.’’

‘’it-it’s not really that good.’’

‘’ill be the judge of that.’’ he smirks, and gently takes the sketch off of will’s hands. he leaves him with a flirtatious smirk leaving will flushed.

he then turns his gaze onto the paper and continues to look at it for what seemed like an eternity for will. he scans his face for a reaction, but it looked like the boy was still making his final verdict.

will was dying. he didnt know why he cared about the opinion of this boy so much, but he did. hell, something must have possessed him, because the last time he drew a boy he found pretty was mike wheeler and he was basically his muse. he felt like he was betraying mike somehow, even if he never actually told mike he was the constant subject of a of his paintings.

will wanted to jump off a cliff from this humiliating revalation.

‘’you’re amazing,’’ the boy’s booming voice brings will back to reality. ‘’i love the way you shade. you brought out my features so well in a way thats you. like from this piece alone, i can tell what your distinctive art style is, and that is insanely difficult to pull off. you should be proud!’’

will finds himself at a loss of words from the sudden compliment. he has no doubt his face is as red as an apple right now. all he could do was nod rapidly, and mutter a simple thanks. the boy attempts to flip a page, only to look back at will with a look asking for approval. will nods again to accept. one person looking at his sketchbook couldnt hurt, right?

..until he reaches the forbidden page where its full of mike drawings. he feels his cheeks glow red again, heart rate beating. he cant believe he forgot that was even there. this is why he doesnt let people see his stuff! its all of his feelings in one page!

however, he wasnt met with a look of disgust. just curiosity, and softness. ‘’these are all great. i can see youve been experimenting with a lot of mediums here; acrylic, charcoal. have you tried oil?’’

‘’oh.. yeah. oil is a little new for me. im meaning to get better at it though.’’

‘’good. its good to be an all rounder.’’ the boy says enthusiastically as he flips more pages, the beaming look of genuine awe never leaving his face. more pages of his sketches of mike show up, and will intends to coil himself into a ball until he shrinks to nonexistence.

‘’i notice you draw this guy a lot. is he someone you like?’’

will freezes.

the boy closes the sketchbook, waving his hands in the air. ‘’no, no, shit! um…dont worry. dont worry, okay? fuck, i keep forgetting it’s…’’ the boy sighs. will starts to get confused at his reaction. why was he taking this so strongly?

‘’im…i didnt mean to scare you. its just.. im.. i mean, if you are..’’ the boy continues to stammer, and will feels himself lean closer.

could he also be..?

‘’m-my boyfriend. im an artist too, actually. and i tend to draw him a lot.’’ he finally lets out, his hand gently caressing will’s sketchbook and brings it back to him. ‘’its normal.’’

‘its normal.’

its normal.

will repeats it to himself like a mantra.

will holds out a breath he didnt know he was holding. he smiles widely. god, hes actually meeting someone who’s just like him. unfortunately taken, but wow.

we do exist.

‘’well..he’s not my boyfriend though.’’ will mutters, playing with the spirals on the top of his sketchbook. his smile drops once he says it. ‘’mike-his name is mike- has a girlfriend. well, had a girlfriend.’’

‘’oh fuck.’’

‘’.. who just so happens to be my sister.’’

‘’oh fuck.’’

will finds himself smiling at his reaction. yeah, he knows his situation’s the worst, but at least he can get a kick out of how people are taking it. ‘’yep.’’ he replies popping the ‘p’ at the end.

‘’im sorry, man.’’

‘’its okay. all i wanted was for us to be best friends again. but lately, i feel like…we aren’t anymore.’’

‘’why do you say that?’’

will still finds it strange and shocking how he’s openly telling someone about his definitely not straight feelings to a stranger, but in all honesty he never felt safer in his life. so he finds it in himself to continue.

‘’i-i don’t know,’’ will scoffs. ‘’i don’t even know what i did. we’re at such a.. weird stage in our friendship right now that i dont even know what we are. first he ignores me for her, now when he broke up with her, hes running back to me spouting about he wants to be friends, and now hes gone back to fixating over her and ignoring me again. like… i feel like’s playing with me. and i hate myself for it. i should get angry, but all i can do is accept when he runs back to me, even if its so unfair. because unfortunately, ive been in love with this stupid guy for as long as i can remember, and i feel stuck.’’

will presses his lips to a line, and closes his eyes. before he knew it, tears slowly started to come down. and now he’s crying to a stranger. great! ‘’sorry. i never.. met someone like me before, so this is..’’

‘’dont apologize, alright man? i get it,’’ the boy says as he gently rubs will’s back. ‘’this is huge for me too.’’

‘’how did you know? weren’t you worried i was going to..be disgusted, or something?’’ will asks.

he shrugs. ‘’i dont know. there’s something about you. about me. we just know, right?’’

will wipes his tears and sniffs. ‘..yeah. right.’’

‘’and concerning your friend…’’ the boy smiles gradually. ‘’don’t give up.’’

‘’what?’’

‘’after what you told me? something tells me its.. not over between you two.’’

before will could inquire any more, a gentle but tight grip lands on his shoulder. he turns around, it was mike. ‘’hey, sorry for the wait. you good?’’

‘’oh, yeah.’’ will turns to the boy with kind eyes with a big grin. ‘’im really glad i met you.’’

the boy grins back. ‘’me too! is there any way we can keep in touch?’’

‘’yeah! yeah, let me just..’’ will tears a small piece of paper from his sketchbook and starts writing his number down. before he could continue, he turns to mike with an apologetic look. ‘’sorry for this mike, give me 2 minutes.’’

‘’sure, whatever.’’ mike says flatly, not even looking at will. he was crossing his arms, his demeanor all grumpy.

okay, weird. did something happen back in the school?

will finishes writing the number and gives it to the boy. ‘’this is at the wheeler’s place, but we’re just staying over there. you can just ask for me.’’

‘’i mean i would, but i dont even know your name.’’

before will could open his mouth, mike takes over for him. ‘’his name is will. what’s yours?’’

what seemed like an innocent question sounded very threatening and condescending to everyone else.

he squints before answering. ‘’my name’s ty. yours?’’ he asks rather teasingly. will is so lost, because ty is looking at mike like he’s an open book, and he knows the chapters like the back of his hand.

‘’mike. mike wheeler.’’ he extends his arm for a handshake. ty reaches out to accept it but once he reached a glimpse of contact, mike pulls back immediately as if he was burnt. ty doesnt seem too bothered though. if anything, he feels like he was expecting that. ‘’ahhh.. so you’re mike.’’ ty says with one side of his lips curving upward.

will felt the tension rise. he did not like it.

mike clears his throat. ‘’will, we need to go. curfew, remember?’’

‘’since when did you care about curfew?’’ will smirks.

‘’i don’t,’’ mike rolls his eyes. ‘’honestly, i just wanna go home.’’

‘’okay, okay.’’ will obliges. he takes one last look at ty, who was giving the two a knowing look as they walk away. again, weird. what the hell does ty know about them after a 10 minute conversation?

he then turns back to mike whose back was more slumped than usual, walking a little faster than will. will jogs up to catch up to him.

‘’so, how was your shift?’’ will asks awkwardly.

‘’it was fine.’’

‘’..mike, did something happen? because you seem a little…’’

‘’im fine, will.’’

‘’..okay.’’

the atmosphere was very tense now, and will didnt want to escalate it further than it has. he knew mike was already drifted away, and he did not want to make it more complicated. he got the message, theyre not that close anymore. done.

but mike suddenly stops in his steps, which makes will do the same. ‘’mike?’’

‘’will.. did you.. draw him?’’

will has been turning red a lot today lately. ‘’w-what?’’

‘’that.. guy. did you draw him?’’

‘’i.. did. did you see that?’’ will yells at himself, beating himself up internally for drawing in public, for putting his heart out on his sleeve. curse one cute guy for making him submit. he feels mike walk closer to him. his heart beats rapidly. this was it. he was mentally preparing for mike to hate him, tell him he’s disgusting, and that he never wants to see him again.

‘’do you draw me?’’

‘’what?’’

‘’i know you draw me with the rest of the party, with.. dnd stuff but..’’ now it was mike’s turn to fumble in his words and mannerisms, and will has no fucking idea on why, but by god was it adorable to watch.

‘’i just wanna know if you drew me too. like, just me. portraits, you call it?’’

after what you told me? something tells me its.. not over between you two.

it was that one recalling of a conversation that made will feel a little bit bold that day. ‘’..yeah. lots of times, actually.’’ will looks down with a shy smile on his face.

‘’good.’’ mike whispers.

‘’huh?’’

‘’fuck. nothing. um…okay. cool.’’

‘’yeah.. cool.’’

…

‘’will you be drawing him more than..me?’’

will cannot believe what he’s hearing right now. did the universe just decide to fuck with him today? is he getting targeted right now? a sick, cruel joke?

will doesn’t think so, because all he sees right now is mike. the mike he misses. the mike who talks to him all gently, who’s himself. nervous, wreck of a human being mike wheeler. mike wheeler, the love of his life. forever the subject of his paintings.

will looks up at mike, and their eyes lock.

‘’not possible.’’

#byler #writing #fuck this was LONG #i got carried away. anyway enjoy

[queenofbaws]

ah, and once more, it's wednesday my dudes!

a slightly different update from me this week - things have been slow in terms of words being put to paper lately, and this will probably be the case for a little while. i'm gonna be trying to get a chapter of something out in the near future (probably like wringing blood, but don't quote me on that), then ya gurl may or may not be taking a slightly more official break from the internet to deal with some stuff here at home ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

such is life. ANYWAY, for this reason, i'm offering a few snippets/sneak peeks of multiple projects this week, just to show y'all what's bubbling away on the backburner. if you're interested in seeing any of that, click the readmore! either way, hope you're all having wonderful weeks so far, and taking care of yourselves as best you can <3

like wringing blood from a stone

There were a million things he could say to that, maybe even a million and one. What he settled on, however, was probably the lesser of all those evils. “You kidnapped my counselors.” Travis’s whole face puckered at that, letting him know in no uncertain terms the lesser of those evils had still been pretty fucking evil, in fact. “What did you want me to do, Chris?! Huh? Huh?! You bit one of them! They both saw—” “Oh for Chrissake, quit fucking whispering, wouldya?” Obviously he’d been expecting something else—an actual fight, maybe—and so Chris took Travis’s surprised spluttering as an opportunity to dig his own heels in. “If you’re gonna bitch me out, at least do it with your big-kid voice.” A vein ticked furiously in Travis’s neck, making it look like something was itching to burst its way out of him. He narrowed his eyes to slits, then leaned in until the two of them were nearly nose to nose. He could smell the blood beginning to clot where Jack had split his eyebrow, the ointment he’d smeared over it before covering it with a bandage. “You and I both know,” he began again, still fucking whispering, “That anyone could be listening outside. I don’t—” Before he could finish that thought, Chris threw his arms up into the air, shouting at the very top of his own voice, “I DON’T CARE! I do not fucking care, Travis! I couldn’t care less if you paid me to! Know what?” He cupped his hands to his mouth then, tipping his head back as he did so, and, tapping even deeper into his (presumably very bruised) diaphragm, hollered, “I HOPE YOU’RE ALL LISTENING! I HOPE EVERYONE IN THE GODDAMN COUNTY CAN HEAR ME LOUD AND FUCKING CLEAR!” If Travis’s face went any redder, it probably would’ve started looking purple. It was Chris’s turn to narrow his eyes; instead of glowering like an asshole, though, he flashed him a grin, sarcastic and savage and sharp enough to nearly slice through his tongue. “Big-kid voices, Travvy. Why the hell not, right?”

of mummy men & bathtub soup

“My oh-so-charming brother is just running his oh-so-charming mouth,” Julia said sharply, calling the Smith brothers’ chit-chat to a screeching halt. “Here’s what I think actually happened: Conrad made up a story in his head, decided it was funny, and now he’s done so many mental gymnastics convincing himself it’s true that he believes it too.” Her head swiveled on her neck, only adding to her overall mean girl vibe. “That’s something Connie likes to do, you see, mix up details from stupid made-up bullshit and real life, then decide it’s all real.” Oh. Oh! If she thought he was gonna be easy pickings just because he’d brought a date along tonight, she had another thing coming! Hell, she hadn’t been paying attention to his whole deal! Jules was the one who got embarrassed by this shit when other people were watching—Conrad reveled in it. So he did the one thing he knew would get her goat (the only move a self-respecting sibling could take in a situation such as this): He brought up the bathtub. “If this is about human soup guy, you’re actually calling Dad a liar and not me, sooo…nice try, but my feelings remain totally unhurt.” Then, he waited for what he knew would come next. He held Julia’s gaze. He took a drink. It was Daniel, God bless him, who finally bit. “…human…soup…guy?”

the tale(s) of the champion

“All right. If you are so…determined to have me discuss Hawke, then fine. I will discuss Hawke.” He leaned forward over his desk, a gesture, she thought, meant less to evoke authority than to simply steady himself as he braced against the unpleasant tide of memory. His eyes found hers for only a moment, but that moment was all it took for her to understand perhaps ‘unpleasant’ was too delicate a word to describe a return to Kirkwall. ‘Agonizing,’ maybe. ‘Wretched.’ “Cassandra and I are of a mind on one thing, at the very least—Varric is a liar. However. I would be remiss if I didn’t draw your attention to the one thing, the only thing, I’ve heard him say about our shared time in Kirkwall that at least approaches the truth.” She couldn’t help but notice that Cullen spoke the city’s name in much the same way Hawke had spoken Elthina’s: as though it tasted bitter on his tongue. “Namely, if, for whatever reason, you wanted to find Hawke,” he continued, speaking with a terrible evenness that smacked of everything but calm, “All you had to do was follow the blood. “What blood? Whose blood? Some might argue that since Hawke killed so often, so indiscriminately, that it wouldn’t matter—couldn’t matter—which blood trail you picked. Oh, I’ve heard the jokes. I’ve heard them all. How it must’ve sometimes seemed Kirkwall was populated solely by nameless, faceless throngs of gangs and ruffians that she cut through at nightfall, slashing and hacking her way towards the betterment of the city. How Varric had to keep a running tally of all the vendettas held against her, lest she forget which seedy element might be coming after her next for putting an end to their leader. Hilarious. Truly.” Had Cullen not been wearing his gloves, the Inquisitor had the singular sense she’d be watching his knuckles turn white as bone; the way he’d taken to gripping the edges of his desk, she was a bit shocked that nothing had given way. Yet.

A MYSTERY CREEPS PROJECT OOOOOOOOOOH!!!

"Which is why, boys and ghouls, we’re gonna be packing our bags and taking a roadtrip this weekend.” Which was…also what Ashley was afraid he was going to say. Her shoulders slumped, and she felt Chris turn to her as he noticed, but Josh kept going, as he was wont to do. “Turns out ‘ghost shit’ was a gross understatement. You lovely ladies aren’t going to believe what a little snooping dug up about this place…” “It’s pretty messed up,” Chris nodded. “But pretty messed up in a way that I gotta admit sounds like it’s gonna make a juicy episode or two.” “Or five. So c’mon, hop to. We got a business dinner to catch—on me, obvs—and details to hammer out. You’re not ready for the shit that went down over there. Hope you’re ready to start trending in the true-crime feeds though, because I know I am!” Dropping the book back on the table, Josh hopped to his feet and playfully tweaked Sam’s ear before starting back for the microfiche where he’d left all his stuff. “Hey Edgar,” he said as he passed him by, “level with me here. Have you been a ghost this whole time? Is that why you know all this crap? When we get in the elevator and leave this floor, do you just poof off into the ether and cease existing until we come back?” In a voice so flat, so disaffected, so wistful, that Ashley very nearly forgot about the pang of fear that had seized her at the sight of those five Death cards staring her straight in the face, Edgar sighed, “Don’t I wish.”

#queenie rambles #queenie writes supermassive #queenie writes dragon age

[rainbowchewynuggets]

re: the fate of TMA: Encore

Up to this point, I’ve been able to get most of TMA: Encore posted. But there are some issues that I’ve been struggling with for a while that are really starting to eat away at my ability to continue.

Even though Encore is practically fully written at this point and I’m just getting the planned drawing sections done, the writing itself is still largely what’s giving me the most trouble.

When I started this project in earnest, I was going off of a very rough outline and mostly writing on the fly. That method works fine for a lot of writers, but it turned out to be really difficult for me. I spent very long periods just trying to figure out how to get from plotpoint A to B to C. I eventually cleared some time to sit down and hammer out a proper coherent script. For logistical reasons, I gave myself about a month to get it done. And I did–which was a huge achievement for me. At the same time, as you can imagine, what I came out with was a little raggedy. I’ve been trying to make small edits as I go to smooth things out and pick up on missed opportunities, but I’m honestly starting to think that it’s just breaking other links in the chain.

The other big reason is due to my decaying relationship with horror. I used to love horror movies and video games, and I reveled in body and abstract emotional horror especially. The Thing. 1408. Silent Hill. TMA’s literary horror vibe was a transformative experience for someone who almost never read for fun growing up. It’s one of my favorite stories, period. Unfortunately, traumatic world events and difficult personal experiences have made horror a lot more… horrible to me in recent years. The tension and terror that used to give me catharsis now only causes me genuine stress. Writing horror still works for me though, which I think has also made it harder to keep myself from going overboard. That fucking concrete forest section with Jon gave me shooting pains to reread.

My point is, I just can’t get myself to relisten to TMA anymore or even take it in by summary. This has left me to rely on my own memory to keep the characters and world consistent with canon. Which is a lot like trying to draw a still-life portrait of wax fruit in 100-degree heat.

The worst part comes in realizing just how smart TMA is. Its explorations of the nature of fear and trauma are what inspired me to want to make Encore in the first place. But the structure and depth of it is even more substantial than I realized when I listened to it. For instance, I recently saw a post talking about how tragic Tim’s character is. He’s such a nice funny guy who does his best to roll with everything in S1, and is slowly ground down to a miserable angry stump of who he used to be by the time of his death. It takes years. And it’s not a natural part of his character. I didn’t write Tim that way in Encore. I figured it would be a lot easier to draw that negativity out of him, in the same way that it doesn’t take a lot of prodding to get Jon to misbehave. That interpretation serves the conflict I wanted to write, but it misses the point of his character, I think. There’s a lot of stuff like that in Encore at such a foundational level that it’s hard to level the dissonance when you compare it to the podcast.

Which sucks, because I originally conceived Encore as a retrospective on what the series was like to listen to (until it took so long to make that I pivoted to make it a separate study on the relationship between fear, pain, and agency, and the existential horror of time travel/immortality). I don’t really feel prepared to do any of that if I’m still discovering so much of what makes TMA work. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think unhinged, canonically-inconsistent fanfiction is bad or shouldn’t exist. But that just isn’t what Encore is supposed to be for me.

All this makes me feel really really… bad. A little bit incompetent, but mostly tired. There are only a few chapters left, and the script is mostly ready to go. Man, I don’t know if I want to go through with it though. My creative spirit has had it rough lately, and I’m about to make some big life changes that are going to make it way harder for me to get art stuff done. And, y’know, I’m supposed to be cutting back on the stuff that makes me more worn-out than happy.

I think I mentioned in a post a while ago that I’ve considered stopping before. I’ve had misgivings about the quality of the writing (and the sheer burden of making full pages of art) for a long time. I convinced myself to keep going because I’ve bailed on a lot of projects over the years and was determined to believe in myself and finish this thing. However, following an audit of the work I’ve put into it, I’m realizing that not finishing wouldn’t make the endeavor a complete loss.

The biggest reason that I make anything is because it makes me a better writer and artist. Even if I’m unsatisfied with the result, I feel accomplished that I sat down and wrote a whole script on a really tight deadline. My usual problem with any writing project is that it keeps sitting on the burner, boiling away, ballooning in scope until it’s impossible to finish. I feel like I’ve been able to make a greater level of peace with compromise and cutting down the stuff in my head to get shit out the door.

Also, tone is hard. Voice is hard. They can be even harder when you’re piggybacking off of another creator. Again, I don’t think that a fanwork or guest work necessarily has to have the same voice as the original. You’re different people, after all. A person can certainly train their tone toward a certain idea with effort, but it helps to know what comes naturally to them. I’m still figuring my own voice out, and it turns out that it isn’t this. The void left behind by my horror safe-space appears to have been occupied by a gif of Gir whacking Shinji Ikari over the head with a frying pan at high speed. Even in Encore’s most manic state, I strain to keep myself from pingponging out of bounds with violent emotional hyperactive energy. Maybe I can try sticking closer to writing action and comedy with only a moderate sprinkling of morose horror.

As mentioned last year, I made important realizations about the way I draw comics. I was taught to draw through studio art where putting your all into every piece is usually the goal. But that’s super unsustainable when you have 7-10 “pieces” to make on every single page. Falling apart halfway through a giant project pushed me to find ways to mitigate the workload without radically changing design consistency. That means formatting, rendering, and composition.

Even before that, the whole fear-color mechanic was a joy to build up. And I finally figured out how to do borderless color art! :3

I can bring all these improvements to the new things I do in the future. All the derivation-related issues in this project are making me think it’s time to move on to original stuff, anyway. Let me tell you, there is a ton of stuff I’d like to make.

TLDR; I’m considering not finishing TMA Encore because I think the quality of the writing has fallen apart, and I need to move away from writing horror and fanworks for a while.

So. The other reason I kept going after that long gap last year was because people appeared to be really into the story. I’d like to give you guys the chance to weigh in on how I handle this. Because for all I know, this is all happening in my head and everything is fine. Your options are:

A) Please finish the last few chapters with art, whenever you get around to it.

B) Please post the last of the script without pictures over the next few weeks.

C) Please don’t worry about finishing it.

Your answer won’t be a definitive vote on what I do, but I do want to value your opinion in what I decide. Through it all, I feel really happy that people have been able to enjoy and express opinions on the longest thing I’ve ever kept going. I look forward to whatever comes next.

Thanks!

Rainbow

------------

EDIT:

After careful consideration, I’ve decided to finish posting the whole thing. Chapters will be longer with way less art.

Thank you everyone, for your kind and sincere encouragement and opinions.

:’)

Here’s the next chapter btw

#tma encore #update #important

[demcnsinmymind]

literally fucking losing my uttermost shit rn

I'm still listening to the Male/volent podcast because it was recommended to me and reached the episode "Dreamlands" AND MY FUCKING DUDES; LOOK AT THIS MOMENT RIGHT HERE Arthur: Dude possessed by entity/Ki/ng in Ye/llow John: Entity/King in Yell/ow

JOHN: I entered in through a portal that was opened by others. It was a powerful ritual, though one not meant for me. It was opportunity. When I took it, I found that there were men fighting on the other side and a few women as well, the ritual having just taken place. I was using it as a chance to enter the world. Properly. Whole. But something went wrong.

.....

ARTHUR: So you remembered all that: everything that made you The Ki/ng in Yell/ow.

JOHN: Yes, and… the eons I had lived before.

ARTHUR (exhale): I must’ve seemed very insignificant against all that.

JOHN: Yes, all at once I saw the truth: how meaningless your existence was.

ARTHUR (offended/amused): I take it back! I don’t forgive you.

JOHN: Listen to me. Yes. Your life is meaningless. If you are going to die, no matter whether it’s today or tomorrow or ten years from now, then how do you matter?

JOHN: As the Ki/ng In Ye/llow, I was not hostile towards your kind – I was indifferent. I did not hate or despise you, no more than you despise an ant. You are meaningless.

(Arthur scoffs at him.)

JOHN: But... it was in that time in the hospital, that month alone. Trapped in this body without you, when something changed.

JOHN: When I became whole again, I felt the power of my old self, along with my indifference, but I had brought something else with me: meaning.

(Thunder booms.)

ARTHUR: So could you not find meaning in your desire to become whole? To join this world?

JOHN: The King perhaps could have, yes. But I am not him. Not anymore. And I had already found my purpose. For him to divorce it from me was too difficult.

ARTHUR (sighing): He spoke to me. The King. He said you were... entangled. That to separate us was too difficult. That you lost your way.

JOHN: He’s correct.

ARTHUR: He also said he’d kill me, and reclaim you.

(The music fades.)

JOHN (intent): Let him try.

THAT MY DUDES IS THE ENTIRETY OF HOW I SEE AZZY'S RELATIONSHIP WITH LANCE. Like so much of what's in early Male/volent is *exactly* my lore. Az in itself lore wise is an entirely different beast. World endingly large and powerful, but when it got into this world because of Friedkin's ritual it in a way fractured into a lot of things, *especially* when it attached itself to Lance. I keep saying they've distorted each other and its main focus continues to be its obsession with Lance, not what its cult wants aka it bringing ultimate chaos and death into our world. And isn't it funny that the episode before that got the exact same thing - a ritual where they wanted to kill Arthur so John/the King in Yellow could claim his body for itself and be whole again. I am legit losing my shit over this because it's like 1:1 of all of my ideas, but not like, in a bad way. Those podcast episodes came out in 2021 and I have been writing my stuff since at least 2016 but to hear it play out 1:1 in a podcast is just fucking wild my dudes

---------------

CULTIST: You have forgotten who you are.

ARTHUR (shaky): Who I am? Who am I?

JOHN: Arthur, he’s tying us down. We must leave!

CULTIST: We can make you whole again, and remove the voice in your head; separate you, save you… bring this body back to you.

ARTHUR: What will happen to the voice? The, er… the passenger I carry.

JOHN: What do they want from us?

CULTIST: Nothing.

ARTHUR: Promise nothing will happen to him.

JOHN: Will I be safe?

CULTIST: More than safe. You will be whole again.

(Ominous music rises.)

ARTHUR: Wait. Who are you talking to?

CULTIST: A gateway was opened in a basement ten years ago. When it was shut a piece of the King was trapped in this world, in a book.

CULTIST: This vessel is yours to take, my King.

----------------------------

#lore #headcanons #hc : aza/thoth #hc : paranormal #hc : cult