#If there are prompts you’d have liked feel free to send me some and I’ll consider for future events. There are just so many good ones

[fumifooms]

Marchil March 2024!

A ship week event for the Dungeon Meshi pairing Marcille x Chilchuck! It will run from Monday the 18th to Sunday the 24th, in about a week.

The themes for the days are:

Explosion / healing

Fairytale / role swap au

Fashion / modern au

Hair / race or species swap au

Teasing / genderbend au

Gifts / date

Free prompt / food

You’re welcome and encouraged to put a twist on the prompts, pick either of them on any given day or mesh them both into the same piece, stick to them as much or as little as you want. For example, the race swap prompt mainly refers to elves, half-foots, etc, but you could just as well use it to draw them as cats if you’d like! There are essentially no rules, this isn’t inktober and there’s no pressure, feel also free to make things for it in advance rather than day to day. This is a ship week, but feel free to depict them in a platonic or queerplatonic way rather than romantic as well! This week is to celebrate them as a duo, and every work is welcomed: fanart, writing, edits, anything. Join the festivities!

Tag your posts for it "marchil march 2024"!

I’ll be hosting it on the @feedmarchil blog, I intend to reblog every piece made for the week there. Ty to Pupucachi for heavily inspiring the first ad card!

#Dungeon meshi #Delicious in dungeon #marchil #More people than i expected are saying they wanna try and participate! Joy~ #And just to be clear marchil is getting a ship week not bc it’s popular but bc i’m stepping up #Repeat after me the lesson that ao3 marchil is teaching us is that continued hard work does build up into something #Some ship positivity in these trying times #Marchil march 2024 #Marchil ship week #Kaboom kerchack #Gonna make a reminder post the day just before it starts too #If there are prompts you’d have liked feel free to send me some and I’ll consider for future events. There are just so many good ones #If u wanna participate everything is optional tbh. Idk do whatev u want we’re here to have fun. Gdbdgdg I’m a bad event host

[autlantic]

. • TRUTH OR DARE

BILL KAULITZ X READER

summary: being the opening act for tokio hotel entails a lot of alcohol and a lot of bad decisions.

warnings: alcohol, all your basic smut features

a/n: HELLO ALL !! this is my first time writing in over a year so this is a bit shabby, but we’re all in our kaulitz twins phase atm so worth it <3 feel free to send me prompts, i’ll write a lil drabble

. • . • .

Somehow, every night after touring ended up like this.

You, the opening act for tokio hotel, and the rest of the band sat round with an unhealthy amount of alcohol, playing the most stupid drinking games imaginable.

“Let’s play truth or dare.” You suggested, leaning back into the plush seats of the luxury hotel room. Playing Gustav’s card games had led to one two many arguments; mainly between the oh so competitive Bill and Tom.

“What about truth or drink? Or dare or drink? Truth or dare or drink even!” Bill chimed in, manicured hands reaching eagerly for the bottle of vodka set out in front of him.

Looking around, everyone nodded in agreement at the suggestion. Bill continued.

“Alright then, Gustav, truth or dare?”

The boy in question sighed, taking a large swig of his beer before answering. “Truth.”

“Is it true you’ve only slept with two fans this whole tour?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at Bill’s invasive question. Tom had girls in every night- you could hear them through the walls which was a massive pain and pretty gross- but as far as you knew Gustav wasn’t as interested in the groupies.

“Yeah, only two.” The drummer replied, causing an uproar of laughter from the rest of the band. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling at their childish antics.

As the game continued, the alcohol started diminishing. Tom had gone streaking down the hallway, Georg had been ding-dong ditching and all of you were completely wasted.

Finally, it had come to your turn.

“Okay… our favourite girl, truth or dare?” Tom asked, staring you down as if to challenge you. You leaned forwards, answering with a simple “Dare.”

Seeing as it was Tom asking, this probably wasn’t the best decision; he had a devious look in his eyes that made you instantly regret your decision.

“I dare you…” He started, spinning his lip piercing in thought as everyone waited intently. “To take a piece of clothing off every time someone drinks.” The dreadlocked boy finished, smirking proudly at his dare. Bill clapped in glee until you sent him a teasing glare. Before you could even respond, both twins had taken a large sip of their drinks.

“That’s not fair!” You exclaimed, pointing accusingly at the two, “Surely it’s only one item if you both drink at once!” Your complaints were ignored, met only with a chant of ‘take it off! take it off!’. Looking down at what you were wearing, you cursed yourself for having already removed your shoes. Thinking for a moment, you removed one of the necklaces hanging round your neck, Bill uttering a sound of protest.

“That doesn’t count as clothes, love.”

“You’re all pervs.” You teased, slowly starting to unbutton and unzip your jeans instead. Tom let out a wolf whistle as you slid the material down your legs, revealing the skimpy piece of black lace you’d thrown on this morning before knowing you’d be on display. Jeans were the safest option to remove seeing as you’d gone braless under your shirt. Now stood in your (barely there) underwear in front of a group of staring boys, it was time for some revenge.

“Bill, truth or dare?” You spoke, eyeing up the handsome singer. “My eyes are up here by the way.”

Bill slowly moved his eyes from the soft skin of your thighs and stomach up to your waiting eyes. God, they were all shameless.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss the most attractive person in the room.” You smirked, shameless yourself thanks to the ungodly amounts of alcohol you’d consumed in the last hour. You leaned slightly against the wall behind you, eyes narrowed expectantly at he gazed at you in surprise.

Jumping to his feet, Bill practically fell over himself rushing up to you, grabbing you by the hips before smothering his lips over yours. The kiss was wet, and you could taste the vodka on his breath as he pushed his tongue into your mouth eagerly. His fingers, nails painted black, gripped your hips and waist firmly as you pulled at his loose and for once not styled black hair. A moment later you were pulling apart, pupils dilated and gasping for breath.

“Well that’s just not fair.”

Glancing over, you fought back a laugh at the jealous expression painted across Tom’s features. His eyebrows were furrowed, arms crossed over his chest. He’d been watching.

It was a bit of an unspoken rule that you didn’t get with any of the boys; if anyone caught you, their opening act, in an intimate position with a band member, you’d both be in big trouble from management.

“Where’s my kiss, baby?” He continued, pouting and leaning towards you for a kiss. You threw a pillow at him, causing Georg and Gustav to fall over laughing. Bill still seemed shell shocked and followed you over to the sofa like a lost puppy.

“Shit, it’s almost 2am. We should probably get some sleep.” Georg spoke, checking his watch. There was a lot of travelling to be done the next day. Gustav nodded in agreement, standing up and starting to grab his things. The two more sensible boys headed out, not without a quip of “don’t have too much fun without us!”

You turned to Tom, and he threw the pillow right back at you. “Get out of my room lovebirds.” He snickered, laughing at Bill’s pink flush. You smiled and pinched his cheek, causing him to slap your hand away playfully.

“Come on, Billy.”

Bill grabbed your hand, pulling you through the door and into the hallway. Once the door was shut, he pushed you roughly against the wall, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

“You’re such a tease, you know that?” He spoke lowly, his brown eyes darkening as he trailed his thumb from your cheek to your lower lip, slipping it inside your mouth. Surprised at his boldness, you sucked softly on his finger, the cold metal of the rings he had on sending shockwaves right through you. He shuddered, withdrawing his finger after a few seconds and dragging you across the hall to his room. You suddenly felt all too conscious of your lack of clothing, your jeans still lying somewhere on Tom’s floor.

Once the door was shut, Bill’s lips were against yours once more, the warmth of his body pressed up against yours as the kiss grew heated and his hands began to roam across your flushed skin. Barely separating as the two of you stumbled over to his bed, you pushed aside any thoughts of possible consequences and focused on his mouth. Your legs opened automatically as he climbed on top of you, his tongue exploring the delicate skin of your neck as a breathy moan left your lips.

“Fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this.” He muttered, hands pulling at the fabric of your shirt.

“I don’t care.” You whined in response, letting him pull the fabric off of your body, revealing you to him.

His soft brown eyes gazed at your exposed skin, painted fingernails trailing soft lines across your skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. You pawed at his belt, Bill moving back slightly so you could undo the buckle with shaking hands. Pulling his shirt off, the singers lips attached to yours once again as he trailed his hands to the hem of your underwear.

He dipped one finger below the lacey fabric, smirking as you to pushed your hips into his hands desperately. Hearing your whimper of ‘please’, he finally pushed your underwear to the side, thumb pressing directly against your sensitive nub. You whined as he began drawing small circles, wetness seeping from you as your head fell back against the pillows. Without warning, Bill slid a finger inside your slick walls, drawing out a moan that made him grin. “Shh, baby. Don’t want anyone to hear you do we?” He cooed, adding a second finger and picking up speed as you tried to keep quiet. You could hear the slick sounds of his fingers as he curled them upwards, causing you to call out his name desperately.

Feeling pleasure build up inside you, you reached to palm him through his jeans, causing his motions to stutter. You whined as he pulled away, but watched on as he began to pull off the only layers separating you from what you really wanted. Eyes wide, you gazed as he pulled down his boxers, cock springing free and hitting his stomach. It was long, oozing precum and you couldn’t help but reach to grab it, slowly stroking his member as his eyes screwed shut in content.

“Please, Bill.” You begged, wrapping your arms round his neck to pull him closer, gasping slightly as you felt his cock press against the opening of your heat. For a moment, you both pause as desire permeates the air in the hotel room.

Pulling back for a split second, Bill pushes the head of his cock into your entrance, groaning at the feeling of the hot velvet surrounding him. Pushing forward further, you cry out as he buries his cock all the way in, legs shaking around his hips as he brushes your most sensitive spots. Withdrawing slightly, he suddenly bullies his cock back inside, picking up a pace that leaves you breathless and writhing.

“God you feel so good.” He groans, one hand gripping your hip as the other moves to your clit, adding a new dimension to the pleasure taking over your body.

Bill’s hips stutter, his grunts and moans becoming more frequent.

“Inside.” You manage to get out, lips parted and brows furrowed as you near your orgasm.

He falters at your words, spilling inside of you as his head falls to your shoulder. A loud moan spills from your lips as the combined feeling of his fingers and being filled so deeply push you over the edge, orgasm crashing over you like a tsunami.

A solid five minutes pass, the two of you still curled up against each other before he finally pulls out, cum dripping against the inside of your thighs.

“Sorry.” He grins, pulling you against his bare chest and burying his face in your hair. You flush pink, this somehow feeling much more intimate than hooking up itself.

“No you’re not.” You giggle, cozying into him and ignoring the consequences of the morning.

“No i’m not.”

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #kaulitz twins #kaulitz twins x reader #kaulitz twins smut

[carolmunson]

let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! series masterlist summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)

With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasn’t expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the school’s GSA) – which he’d only be annoyed about running if he didn’t absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didn’t hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.

At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then he’d feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start – you’d never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, you’d only been on one date. But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie. 

g’morning pretty  ew you’re obsessed with me. good morning, boy

He’s happy he knows you’re joking because he’s certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. That’s why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesn’t know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.

what’s your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but i’d really like to see you before you go. 

You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year you’d been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. You’re cute when you’re excited but he didn’t want to embarrass you by saying so – just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture.  “You were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? You’d be into pictures of fossils?" “Why are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid that’s into dinosaurs?” “No, he’d be so sad.” “So next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine you’re saying it to nine year old me.” “I bet you were a cute kid,” you thought out loud, “You’re a really cute adult.” 

“You think I’m cute?” “The cutest.” His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when he’d check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it.  “Did you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?”  “This is not appropriate class discussion guys,” his eyes would shut tight in frustration when they’d catch him texting you back and he’d reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age. “No because like, you’re so happy though. Look how you’re smiling when you text her.” “Mr. Munson’s got that W rizz.”  “Is she hot?” “Be fucking forreal. He’s blushing so hard right now.” “Smash or pass, Munson?” “Guys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now." Bzz. Bzz.

i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially He sighed, he didn’t want to wait until next Friday to see you again. 

i could run errands with you if you’ll have me. i’ll drive! you sure? it’s not super exciting stuff. you make it exciting. :) i’ll take you out to lunch. sound good? okay :) okay :)  see you saturday, cutie omg shut up 🙄 but yeah. see you saturday. :) 

He was nervous you’d notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning.  You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you aren’t for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the ‘second winter’ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside — reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you. “Hey you,” he smiles, “Good morning.”  “Morning,” you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you weren’t ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you.  “So what’s the agenda, sugar?” he asks.   “Okay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,” you say, raising your bag, “I have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and um…I think that’s it? They’re all in the same shopping center over by um – by the movie theater.”  “Oh yeah,” he nods, “I know the one.”  He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of God’s Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you don’t know it, but you don’t seem appalled or repulsed.  “Do you have a tunes preference?” he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, “It’s a long drive.”  “Uh…” your knee bounces faster, “I mean it’s your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.”  “Honey, I’m like your Uber driver today,” he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddie’s gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, “How’m I gonna get a five star review if you don’t like the music?” 

“I do!” you assure aggressively, “I do like it.”

“Here, I have a plan,” he nods, holding his hand out, “Gimme your phone.” 

You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, “Just trust me, give me your phone.” 

“Here’s the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,” he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the car’s Bluetooth and connects yours instead, “But I get to pick the songs. Deal?” 

A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, “That’s ridiculous.” 

“But is it a deal?” he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. It’s not fair that you look so cute this morning, it’s not fair that he doesn’t have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasn’t lying when he said you were so kissable. 

“It’s a deal,” you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you don’t notice. 

“Okay, so let’s see…” he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face. 

“Blood Brothers?” he asks, “Wow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I haven’t heard this album in years.”

“I started liking them for a boy back in high school,” you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, “Then started liking them forreal.” “That’s okay,” he smiles over at you, “You’d be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as you’d expect.” 

“No?” your brows raise, “Not a bunch of ‘Stabby Metal Scream Crunch Stab’ in your top ten?” 

He scoffs, settling on ‘Set Fire to the Face on Fire’, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, “I married the head cheerleader at my high school – I’d like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metal’s just, y’know, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.” 

“You a big fan of having something on the side?” you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. You’re quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.

“Why’re you so mean, huh?” he teases, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s had a lot of side pieces?” 

“Oh,” you start, giving him a once over, “Not even close.” 

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you drone, turning yourself toward him in return,  “I guess I am.” Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them. 

“So uh…before we hit the road,” his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, “D’you-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?” It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb – like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what he’s asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again. 

“Yeah, but it’s not stealing if I’m letting you have one,” you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one he’d been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. It’s as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment he’s been replaying in his head since last Monday. 

You both break apart but he doesn’t move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, “Are you nervous?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think maybe, yeah. But I’m excited, too. Y’know, to spend the day with you.” 

It’s his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too. But it’s  just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles. 

“I do have a rule, though,” his brows furrow, implying he’s serious. You look very seriously back at him. 

“I gotta kiss you every time you’re startin’a look a little too good,” he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driver’s seat while he pulls onto the road, “Cause I don’t know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.” 

You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, “You’re so stupid.” 

“I’m just a man, sugar,” he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than he’d planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do. 

‘Those cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!’

“Damn, me and the band shoulder cover this,” he nods to himself, “We’d fuckin’ crush.” 

“Can you scream like that?” you ask, turning your head to face him, “I feel like I’d blow my vocal chords.” 

“Eh, sorta kinda,” he tilts his head from side to side, “I got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff – lead guitar if you remember –” “I remember,” you smile, “And his wife Alycia.” 

“And is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,” he smiles, “You should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there – it’s super impressive.”

“Well when you cover it, I’ll come watch,” you nod, “You still haven’t really told me about your band.” 

“Corroded Coffin?” he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, “Not much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun – still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.” 

His eyes widen at the realization, “Twelve years, Jesus. I’m so fuckin’ old.”   

“Oh, thank god I only have two years until I’m fuckin’ old,” you laugh, “You don’t look old.” 

“You don’t look old either,” he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, “What can I get you?” 

“Oh no, no,” you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, “I’ll get it, seriously. You’re driving me.” 

“No, please, I’ll get it,” he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card. 

“I wanna pay for it, you’re already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,” you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, you’re very obviously not taken by his actions. 

“Look,” he shrugs, voice lowering, “I didn’t wanna say anything cause I didn’t know how you’d react. But this location actually doesn’t accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when it’s totally against all my shit. But since they don’t accept any payments from women, I’m gonna have to pay or else we can’t get coffee.” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hold back your laugh, “Fuck, why do you have to be funny about it?” 

“You think I’m funny, huh?” he grins, pulling up to the microphone box. 

“Yeah, funny lookin’,” you tease. Eddie ‘tsks’ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you. 

“What can I get you?” he asks again. 

“Medium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,” you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. You’re not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you don’t like it either. Or at least you don’t know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other – he wonders if you’ve ever known how to take. 

He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, there’s something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like he’s not supposed to see. 

“Hey, you know my rule,” he says, leaning in again, “You’re startin’ to look at little too good right now.” 

Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck. 

“Thank you,” he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Cam’ron’s Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically. 

“Another banger,” he exclaims. 

“You know this song?” you ask with surprise. 

“I grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,” he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you weren’t showing any sign that you did. 

“Got drops. Got coupes. Got trucks. Got jeeps. Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight So ma. Wassup? Let's slide. Alright. Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.” He likes that you’re impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines. 

You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatana’s. 

“Now I was down town clubbin’, ladies night, Seen shorty she was crazy right, And I approached baby like, ‘Ma, what’s your age and type?’ She looked at me and said, ‘Yous a baby right?’” He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. He’s surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool he’s being about it. 

“I told her, I’m eighteen and live a crazy life, Plus I’ll tell you what the 80s like, and I know what the ladies like, Need a man that’s polite, listens and takes advice. I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe. Come with me, come stay the night.” 

He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows he’s got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is. 

“You better be careful,” you warn, tongue caught between your teeth. “Yeah? I better be careful?” he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway. 

“You’re trouble, Munson,” you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, “You’re big trouble.” 

“She looked at me laughin’ like, ‘Boy your game is tight.’ I’m laughin’ back like, ‘Sure, you’re right.’” 

“D’you need a cart?” Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target. 

“Nah, if I get a cart I’m just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,” you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, “And while I’d love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.” “Basket it is,” he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where it’s encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you. 

He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, “I can hold it, Ed.” 

He gives you a small shake of his head, “Nah, I’ll carry it. You lead the way. What’s on your list?”  “I mostly just need to get travel stuff…like toiletries,” you think out loud, “I guess this wasn’t really much of a big errand now that I think about it.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, and he means it. 

You don’t go straight to the beauty section. You’re taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tati’s always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.

“So, do you want me to keep you on task?” he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, “Or do you want me to aid in you not being on task?” 

You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through. 

“We have all day, right?” you smirk. 

“All day,” he nods, “You a walking through the aisles type of girl?” 

“Is that a deal breaker?” you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow. 

“No, not at all,” he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m a walking through the aisles type of guy.” 

“Was I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?” you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.

“Well that’s the thing,” he says with a tilt of his head, “You’re always lookin’ a little too good.” 

He hums when you roll your eyes, “Hmm. How’d I know that was coming?” 

“Why’re you so nice to me all the time, huh?” you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand. 

“I guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,” he jokes back, “And an even worse Uber driver.” 

“So true, actually. Zero stars,” you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, “Y’know green’s a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.” 

“Oh…” he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So she’s been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way I’m always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think I’m cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it ‘cause we’re looking at towels? 

“Um, thank you. I’ll um, I’ll wear it more often,” he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but – this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy? 

“You should,” you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, “What happened to not being nervous?” 

“That’s a rule for you,” he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, it’s the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, “I can be as nervous as I want.” 

“Ah, I see, rules for thee, not for me,” you nod slowly. 

“See! Now you’re getting it,” he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, “Yeah, I want you to hold it.” 

When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They weren’t last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girl’s hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you — Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands. You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He let’s you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still aren’t sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but he’s caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever. 

You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddie’s fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing. 

“This is so perfect for my living room,” you murmur to yourself, “It’s so cute.” 

Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.

“Not seventy five dollars cute,” you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf. 

“Seventy five dollars?” he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, “What, did they shear the sheep here or something?” 

“That’s capitalism for ya,” you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, “Oh well, I’m sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.” 

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze. 

“Sweetheart…” you repeat back, “That’s cute.” 

“That’s cute? Okay,” he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, “I’ll keep note of that.” 

You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear it’s a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause they’re on TV? Frickin’ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that you’re cute when you’re mad. He can’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t even care that you’re both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something. 

“Oh, hold on, I gotta look at these,” you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twenty’s 3AM fades into Des’ree’s You Gotta Be. 

“Decorative wicker baskets?” he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store. 

“I need two for under my dresser,” you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, “S’for my socks and stuff.” 

He tosses you a look and you look back at him, “Don’t ask.” 

You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You aren’t mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. You’re so into it, too. He guesses this is what you’re like when no one’s around to watch you. How unfortunate that you’re so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it. 

“Hey,” he says, putting the basket down, “What did I say about looking too good?” 

“What?” you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, “Am I taking too long?”

“No,” he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, “No baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.” 

You can’t help but feel girlish when he’s like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, pressing you back with his body so you’re flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if you’ll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, breaking away, “We’re gonna get in trouble.” 

“You think I’m scared of getting in trouble?” he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you don’t do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, “I’ve been gettin’ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.” 

His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. He’s not sure if it’s pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever he’s doing, he’s pretty sure you like it – his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again. 

“Ed,” you mumble quietly, “I can’t be turned on at Target.” 

“Yes you can,” he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you. 

“Uh…hey folks,” a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention. 

“Sorry to uh, to interrupt but, um – y’know, this is a family friendly store and we just – yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not in trouble or anything,” he offers, stumbling over his words. 

“Thanks man,” Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, “Sorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, y’know?” 

The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest. 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, “Baskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.” 

Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, “Look, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?” 

You nod, “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll tell you where I am, okay?” 

“Cool,” he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “See you in a bit.” 

hey, where are you at? easter stuff, i got distracted  very godly of you

He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that you’re on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries.  “Easter candy?” he asks. 

“It’s the best holiday candy, easily,” you confess, “I know people will probably say Halloween since that’s the candy holiday, but dude, there’s something about Cadbury eggs.” 

“Yeah?” he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you don’t protest when he does, “Isn’t it supposed to be from the UK? Don’t they have better chocolate by proxy?” 

“I think so,” you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, “Have you ever had them?” 

“I’m sure I have,” he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, “I guess I’m more of a Halloween guy.” 

“Boring,” you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in. 

“Kobe!” you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddie’s feet on the tile. 

“Too soon,” Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, “How’re you gonna call out a legend’s name and then miss?” 

“I feel like you moved it so that I’d miss,” you accuse playfully. 

“I kept it exactly where it was, I think you’re just not very good at basketball,” he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you. 

“You just don’t wanna see me be great,” you tease. 

“Oh, stop,” he tutts, “You’re very great.” 

Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point. 

“You get everything you need to get?” he asks against your lips. You nod, a little ‘mhm’ squeaks out of your throat, “Good, cause they can’t yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.” 

The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendy’s waffle fries over the center console. 

Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. What’s going to come up next that’ll surprise him? What’s he gonna find out about you? 

‘Baby, I know you’re hurting, Right now you feel like you could never love again. Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove, That I love you.’ 

Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, “Oh shit. I haven’t heard this song in years!”

“You know this song, too?” you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire. 

“You really don’t think I’m cultured, do you?” he jokes, “I have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.”

“Of course,” you murmur with an eye roll, “What’s your favorite NSYNC song?” 

“Ooh, let me see,” he thinks while he turns onto the highway, “Definitely Drive Myself Crazy. I’d always try to hit JC’s runs.”

“You knew their names too?” 

“I told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,” he explains, “Mrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then I’d go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.” 

“Were you always there?” you ask, “At your babysitter’s house?” 

“Yeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. He’s y’know – he’s in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so – if I wasn’t at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school – but anyway – wow – off topic there – yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,” he finishes.  

“I’m sorry,” you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze. 

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay – I turned out pretty cool, I think,” he shrugs.

“You’re really cool,” you smile, Eddie smiles back. 

“What’s your favorite Backstreet Boys song?” he asks. 

“Hey Mr. DJ, easy,” you tell him, “It’s the most fucknasty song they’ve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. I’m trying to make a child to that song.” 

Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, “The most fucknasty song? We’ll have to play that next.” 

“You won’t be disappointed,” you say, “AJ sings it and he was my favorite.” 

“Oh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,” he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. He’s not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more. 

“I saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,” Eddie says, “For their Millenium Tour – was when I Want It That Way was huge.” 

“You got tickets?” you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face. 

“Summer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,” he starts. 

“So anyway, she finds out on the radio that they’re giving away tickets to a show in Columbus – cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows – and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like ‘Mom, he’s family’. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt y’know? But as a kid I was like ‘Damn you’re gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.’”

“Not Tool!” you laugh.  

“But it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which I’m sure cost her a fortune but – damn. I had a lot of fun.” 

“It sounds like you did.”

“The most crazy thing though – which I’ve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special – was when I saw them perform, I thought like, ‘Wow, I wanna do this when I grow up.’ So in a way, if it wasn’t for the Backstreet Boys, I would’ve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,” he confesses, “And I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff ‘cause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like ‘Damn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!’” 

“I love that,” you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head. 

He shrugs, “It was a cool dream to have but, I don’t know. That ship has long sailed.” 

“What do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,” you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth. 

He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, “No I can’t. I’m too old now.” 

“Too old? Shut up,” you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, “Metallica’s still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And they’re all like – in their sixties for fuck’s sake.” 

“Okay?” he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, “And? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. I’m fucking…thirty-two.” 

“Exactly! You’re only thirty-two,” you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, “You have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.” 

Eddie’s chest gets tight when you say that – it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. He’d missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissy’s praise when they’d get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage. 

“You can’t be saying shit like that to me,” he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his. 

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green. 

“‘Cause you’re gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, “Oh, okay. I’ll be meaner if that’s not what you’re going for.” 

“It’s definitely what I’m going for,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly. 

The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, I’ll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridges’ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. It’s a comforting touch, no implications other than – I like being here with you right now. 

‘The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl. You're the only one that I want, Wanna be around. Wanna be around, girl, Wanna be around, girl, Ooh, wanna be around, girl...’

“I like this,” Eddie says, his voice soft, “Who is this?” 

“Leon Bridges,” you answer, “The whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.” 

“I was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,” he enthuses, “I like the old timey vibe.” 

“It’s cozy, right?” you ask. 

“Very cozy,” he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest,  “You gettin’ sleepy?” 

“Kinda,” you yawn, “You’re not boring me or anything, I promise.” 

“That’s okay,” he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, “We’ll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.” 

You frown, “You sure? Am I being lame?” 

“Nah, you’re not being lame,” he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do. 

After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I don’t know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now? 

“What’d I miss?” you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped. 

“A few showtunes and Mariah’s Vision of Love,” he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, “I’m partial to My All but that’s cause I’m a professional sad boy.” 

“My All is on there, but it’s probably good I was out for Vision of Love – you didn’t have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,” you laugh.

“Do you sing?” he asks. You shake your head no. 

“I did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,” you explain, “But I wouldn’t call myself much of a singer.” 

“I’m sure I’ll find out if that’s true sooner or later,” he offers. It’s part way through Good Charlotte’s Girls & Boys, volume low so he didn’t disturb you sleeping. 

“This song makes me laugh,” you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard. 

“Like, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after – now they just sound like women’s empowerment.” 

“Tell me more,” he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again. 

“Like, ‘Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money.’ Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money – I’m a person. ‘Paper or plastic, don’t matter, she’ll have it.’ Like it’s a bad thing! Sounds like she’s thriving, he’s paying for everything and she didn’t even ask him to, she’s just sitting there looking hot!” you continue, “Sounds like a dream to be honest!”

“Yeah!” he nods, mulling it over in his head, “Fuckin’ – good for her!” 

“I’m happy for her!” you laugh, he laughs with you. It’s nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that you’re sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you frown, shoulders slumping, “I wanna keep hanging out.” 

“I know,” he says gently, “I wanna keep hanging out, too – but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know,” you scrunch your nose, “So stupid.” 

“So stupid,” he agrees, “How dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weather’s nice.” “Well when you put it like that,” you say with a tilt of your head and a smile. 

“Let me get your stuff out of the trunk,” he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you. 

“Here,” he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your boss’s sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, “Sorry, forgot a bag.” 

He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, “Ed…”

“I didn’t really have to pee,” he confesses, “You just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.” 

“It’s really nice,” you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, “I just don’t want to like…feel like I owe you something.” 

“No, no, no,” he hurriedly shakes his head, “Please don’t feel like that. This really was just like – it’s not like a power move or anything I’m not like that, I promise – I don’t want anything in return, seriously.” 

“Except maybe a picture when it’s all set up nice in your living room,” he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception. 

“I’ll see you when I come back,” you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up. “You act like you’re going to war, sugar,” he teases, “Like you’re not gonna text me in five minutes.” 

“Ew, bye,” you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch. 

“Bye,” he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since he’s pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth.  it looks great in my living room. oh shit it’s only been five minutes. 😡 fuck you. 

By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you weren’t busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didn’t seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when you’d send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand. 

these would make cool dice for d&d, right? the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me. let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that. so needy.   oh, so you miss me?  of course i do :) i miss you, too :) 

“So when’re we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?” Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, “Or does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldn’t know about?” 

Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancy’s office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up. The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasn’t gay, they would’ve gotten married the day that they met. 

“Well she’s not my girlfriend yet, for one,” Eddie starts, defensively, “And if you wanna know if she’s real, here’s her Instagram.” 

He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, “Not bad at all, Munson.” 

“Let me see,” Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, “Oh, smash. Immediately smash.” Steve passes Eddie’s phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, “You didn’t fuck?” 

“Not yet, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, “I’ll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?” 

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugs, “I would’ve fucked her already.” 

“Yeah, we know loverboy,” Robin teases. Eddie’s shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, he’d definitely be able to take you. He’s hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day – Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his frat’s sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted. 

“Tell her to follow me,” Steve winks. 

“It’s the first thing I did when I met her, actually – told her to follow you,” Eddie jokes back. 

what’re you doing? happy hour with the group. well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way. fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control. also look at these cool rocks. oh, sick – what kind are they? the vendor said they’re ocean jasper do you want one? will you get a matching one with me? also linger is playing at the bar right now and it’s…making me think about you? stupid as hell. absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute? pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, he’s ‘linger’ing over my shoulder. lmao you’re so corny “Is she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?” he asks impatiently. “She’s still working, man,” Eddie flips his phone over so the screen can’t be seen, “And even if she does, I’m not gonna show it to you.” “Yeah, don’t be such a perv Steve,” Robin sasses, “Get me another rum and coke instead.” 

After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddie’s had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you might’ve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you. You’re busy and he’s bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks. “You look so sad right now,” Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, “You miss your girl?” 

Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, “I do.” “Guys this is the one, I’ve never seen him like this before,” Tatianna grins, “He’s down bad.” 

Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, “Hinge is the truth, I’m telling you.” 

“I mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,” Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of ‘C’mon Wheeler,’ sound out of a few of them. 

“When you know, you know, kid,” Gareth offers softly, “And I think Ed knows.” 

“When’re we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?” Erica giggles next to him. “Exactly what I was saying earlier,” Steve adds. 

“I don’t think you need to meet her, Steve,” Dustin laughs, “Let him have something, for God’s sake.”  “Well,” Nancy starts, “I mean, Steve’s party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.” 

“That’s actually such a good idea,” Tatianna agrees. 

“But I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,” Eddie sulks. 

“Yeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,” she argues, “You should tell her to come. We’ll take care of her before you show up.”  “I’ll take realgood care of her, Munson,” Steve grins.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s head is down on his forearms so he doesn’t know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again – this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now it’s every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat – Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tati’s art show?

He doesn’t have all the answers yet and he doesn’t know where you’re at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?

Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it.  

The following night he was up late grading papers he should’ve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadn’t reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage. 

The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser. 

hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdale’s and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. it’s no excuse honestly but i should’ve messaged you to let you know i was busy. i’m sorry, handsome :( thought about you all day if that helps 

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark. 

don’t apologize, sweetheart, i know you’re busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately. LMAO. i’ll take that as a compliment. what’re you doing up so late?  grading papers, but i’m done now. i’d ask why you’re up so late but it’s only nine thirty there. what’re you up to? trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?

“Do I wanna see it?” he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, “Of course I wanna see it.” 

yeah, show me :) 

He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand. 

And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, you’re so fucking grabbable he can’t even stand it. 

jfc you know what you’re doing  whaaaaat? what do you mean?  ‘what do you meaaaannn 🤪’ you know what i mean.  do you not like it?  i like it a little too much  you wanna see it from the back? 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers. 

of course i do 

He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how you’re turned to still have your pretty face in frame. He’d fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.

do you want me to hop on a flight or?? how much are tickets to az? i’m about to come thru.  you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn?  lmao you know i don’t 😏 sorry i’m all the way in a different state, i’d help take care of it. 

“Yeah?” he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, “You wanna take care of it for me?” 

yeah? you’d take care of it?  only if you asked nicely :) 

“Fuck,” he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand. 

i’d ask very nicely. i’d even say please.  what a good boy. :) 

“M’such a good boy,” he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, “I’ll be so good for you.” 

would you want me to use my hands or my mouth? 

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how he’d want you first. 

i like the idea of keeping your mouth full  oh you wanna shut me up? is that it?  i don’t think it takes much. 

His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off. 

“Yeah, suck it just like that…” he hums out, “Please more.” His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. They’d look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.

“T-take all of it,” he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that? 

Bzz. Bzz.

oh yeah cause you’re soooo big 🙄

“Psh,” he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so you’d stop being such a brat. 

you’re gonna feel so stupid when you see it  you sound very confident  because i am  is it big? 

He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times she’d seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls he’d pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit. 

its big, sweetheart. but i think you can take it.  i know i can take it.  so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you were here.  so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. 🙄 i can tell by how you’re talking that you really like the idea of that.  so you are jerking it in your bedroom?  the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs

He doesn’t know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how you’ll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good. 

🙈 stop  yeah? i can stop.  don’t actually, i’m just embarrassed 😩 how come?  cause i do have my fingers between my thighs 

“Fuuuuuck me,” he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss won’t hear you through the hotel’s thin walls. 

does it feel good, sweetheart?  it would feel better if you were doing it for me.  can i call you?

“Can I call you?” he reads out loud, in a whisper, “Can I…call you…” 

absolutely. 

Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like he’s on a roller coaster while it continues to ring. 

He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does. 

“Hey there,” he murmurs. 

“Hi,” your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan. 

“Hi,” he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again. 

“Do you wanna hear something embarrassing?” you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh. 

“Always,” he swoons out, low and warm. 

“Your voice is so hot to me,” you giggle, “I don’t think I could finish if I didn’t hear it.” 

“Ah, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,” he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax. 

“Sorry,” you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, “You having a hot voice isn’t embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.” 

He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head — his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead. 

“S’not embarrassing,” his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, “You all wet for me, sugar?” 

“Yeah,” you whine to him. 

“Wish I could be there to take care of you,” he huffs, “I’d make you feel so good.”  

“How?” you ask breathily. 

He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, “I’d take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.” 

“I’m not needy,” you protest. 

“Not needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?” he argues playfully, “Oh yeah, not needy at all, baby.” 

You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver. 

“You like that?” he asks lowly, “When I’m a little mean to you?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Fuck…” he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.

“Wait – are you actually jacking it right now?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Yeah,” he sighs back, “Are you surprised?” 

“How long have you been doing it?” 

“Since you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,” he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly. 

“Is that how you wanna fuck me?” your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, “From the back?” 

“Maybe not at first,” he starts, imagining he’s in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you. 

“I’d probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,” he offers, “Watch you take it.” 

You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over. 

“But if I’m being honest…” he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks he’s hearing right, you’re very wet. Just because of him, the way he’s talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low. 

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on that pussy,” he slurs out, drunk on the idea. 

“Mmm, fuck,” you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?” he asks, a light raise to his voice, “You like thinking about me between your legs?” 

“Yes,” you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like he’s the one making it punch out of you. 

“I know you’d take it so good, too. You’d get so messy for me,” he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, “Just like you are right now, hm?  Waiting for me to come over ‘n’ fuck you stupid?” “Please,” you whine into a growl, “Please fuck me stupid.” 

“Oh baby, I will,” he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, “F-fuck till you can’t fuckin – mmmf – can’t fuckin’ think.” “Oh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!” you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down. 

“Did you cum for me, sugar?” he drawls. 

“Mhm,” you squeak out. His grin doesn’t fade, it turns dirty, filthy, “Good girl.” 

“Don’t say that.” He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. He’s normally not like that, that’s not something he thinks he’s ever said in bed – at least not sober. 

“I won’t say it, I’m sorry. You don’t like that?” he asks thoughtfully. 

“I like it a lot and you’re too far away,” you say softly. 

“Poor thing,” he offers. 

“I am a poor thing!” you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, “I’m excited to see you again, when I come back.” 

“I’m excited to see you, too,” he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, “But lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.” 

“Visual learner?” you tease. “Physical, too,” he counters. 

“You really are trouble,” you laugh, “And um – I don’t want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.” 

“I don’t think that at all,” he assures, “I really, really like spending time with you. I’m – and this is gonna sound super lame – but I’m excited to keep on getting to know you.” 

“Lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” you laugh, “But also, same. We can be lame together.” “Oh – uh, by the way,” Eddie’s voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, “The group really wants to meet you and I know it’s gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steve’s birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if you’re gonna be too tired.” “Oh no, I’d love that!” he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, “Steve’s the one whose Instagram request I shouldn’t accept, right?” Eddie laughs, “Right.”

You both talk for a little longer before he tells you it’s getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesn’t want to hang up, but you’re both too old to be doing the ‘falling asleep on the phone’ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours. 

Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs – he’s tired. He doesn’t want to go to Steve’s party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but you’re gonna be there so he’s doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhem’s Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there. He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacher’s bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled – he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest you’d ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned. 

He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story you’re telling. You’re all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped ‘ARIZONA’ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere. 

“Eddie!” Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and he’s surprised he hasn’t already fallen to his knees. “Started without me, huh?” he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand. “I tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me one…or two,” you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steve’s eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, ‘Her ass? Insane.’ putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go. 

“Everyone’s been really nice though,” you smile, giving him a once over, “You look really good.” 

“Thank you,” he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, “You look too good. Don’t think I can let you stick around here too long.” 

“S’kinda hot when you’re like that,” you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequila’s blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell you’re just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy. 

“Like what?” “A lil’ possessive,” you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment.  “Okay,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that you’re chest to chest, both of you laughing against each other’s lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling. 

“I missed you,” he says confidently. 

“I missed you,” you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didn’t feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group. 

“What’re you having tonight, big boy?” Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug. 

“Surprise me – you doing shots?” he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartender’s attention when she makes his way over. 

“Can I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?” he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour. “I don’t really like Jameson,” you scrunch your nose. 

“Well baby, they’re all for me, so don’t worry about it,” he grins playfully, white teeth shining, “I’ll get you something else when you finish that drink.” 

You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatianna’s vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind. 

“Guess who it is,” she laughs. 

“Someone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,” he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand. 

“Look, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so – you can’t even be mad,” she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, “Come sit with us really quick.” 

Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, “She’s a big girl, she’s been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.” Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tati’s drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents. “So…” Eddie starts. 

“I really like her, dude,” Gareth grins, “Came in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.” 

“And you, mom?” he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face. 

“All I’m saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,” she shrugs, “‘Cause what if you had deleted the app that night? Would’ve never met the love of your life right there.” 

“Love of my life? You think?” he asks, eyes widening. “I know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,” Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, “And you’ve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.” 

“So you like her?” Eddie grins. 

“We love her,” Tatianna nods, “Consider her adopted.” 

“Steve loves her too, it looks like,” Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort. 

“He’s behaving himself, don’t worry,” Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, “We all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, he’s got two girls on his radar right now that he’s trying to take home if he doesn’t get too drunk – but y’know, we’re banking on the getting too drunk part.” 

“Always banking on the getting too drunk part,” Gareth laughs. 

The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all. 

“What do you know about this song?” Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monet’s Coastin’ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses. 

Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat. 

‘Think of the waaaays, The ways I wanna give you this ass, Just how you liiiiike, Feel like a Thursday how I’m throwin’ it back.’ “The ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?” he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him – you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows you’re about to say something bitchy that’ll make him fall for you even harder. “I don’t think you could handle it,” you flirt. 

“You know something?” he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, “I think I can handle you just fine.” You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. It’s fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too.  He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, it’s okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it. 

Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. You’re talking to Robin about a game that’s like Sims but 8-bit – 

“It’s called Unpacking and it’s so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the person’s story by unpacking their boxes – sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you don’t have to make up,” you enthuse. 

“Is it on Steam?” she asks, “I’ll literally buy it right now.” 

“We’re partying, Rob, don’t play a dumb game,” Steve whines. 

“She’s not gonna play it right now, Steve,” Nancy chides, “She’s gonna play it later. Don’t worry, we all know tonight is about you.” 

Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time. 

“Why does your Dragon’s Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?” Lucas huffs. 

“Don’t be so sad, Sinclair – you can always try to beat Red’s score,” Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair. 

“She’s 250 points behind you, and you’re both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,” he huffs. 

“What’d’you owe her this time?” he asks. 

“I can’t even tell you out loud,” he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this. 

“Are there any other games in there that you have a high score on?” you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going. 

“The Dracula pinball machine,” he replies confidently. 

“I’m gonna go beat it,” you grin up at him. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room,  “You even know how to play?” 

“You can show me,” you shrug. He doesn’t really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesn’t want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machine’s music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain. 

“Do you think I don’t really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?” you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder. “You caught me,” he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, “I’m sure you’re gonna do just fine.” 

And you do, in fact, you’re really fucking good at pinball and he’s almost mad about it. “Where did you learn to do this?” he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again. 

“Summers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,” you grin, “My uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer – my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.” “That’s so hot to me, oh my god,” he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddie’s breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not.  Rihanna’s Work starts over the speakers and  that’s when he knows it’s on purpose. Your movement’s pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. You’re a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade. 

While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesn’t realize you aren’t even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isn’t new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows you’re surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory – rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it.  

Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest. 

“You like bein’ a tease?” he asks, voice deep and daunting. 

“Just getting you back for what you did under the table,” you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, “You’re not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.” “Also, I beat you,” you grin. 

“Looks like you did,” he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen. 

“Do I win a prize?” 

“M’sure I can think of something,” he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall. “What do you think you deserve?” he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, it’s the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesn’t care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you. “Oh, it’s like that?” you giggle mischievously, “I don’t think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.” 

“Hmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,” he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull. “Kiss me,” you whine softly. “M’sorry, sorry,” he smirks, meeting your lips again, “You just smell really good, I like being in there.” “You’re a really good –” Kiss. “Mmm--kisser.” “Thanks, sugar, you’re –” Kiss. “Not so bad your –” Kiss. “Mmm shit – yourself.”  He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He can’t hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again. 

“You don’t wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy – oh, mmm – happy birthday?” you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place. 

“The only thing I wanna hear right now,” he purrs in your ear, “Is what you sound like when I’m making you cum.” 

The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other. 

He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you smile, “Just breathe. I’m still gonna be here.” 

The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours. There’s no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath. “C’mere baby,” he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways he’s been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips. 

You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.

“That’s all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?” he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, “Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. He’s testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands. 

“Finally got to grab it the way you wanted to?” you tease between breaths. 

“Mhmm,” he groans, “Now I just gotta smack it around.” 

You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums. 

“Ooh, you wanna spank me?” you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp. 

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asks, brows raised inquisitively.  

“Maybe not tonight,” you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, “Maybe only when I’ve been bad.” 

“Jus’lemme know,” he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, “So I can  — mmm, shit — teach ya a lesson.” 

“Next time,” you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that he’s on top.

“Next time,” he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, “But since you’re so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?” 

“I did beat you at pinball, so…” you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar. 

“You did beat me at pinball,” he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesn’t know if he can say that to you yet. He doesn’t know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it – you aren’t Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasn’t actually – 

“Oh!” you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves. 

“Y-yeah that’s just…where you’re kissing…that’s a spot for me,” you admit bashfully, unable to look at him. 

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, “Shouldn’t’ve told me that.” 

A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck. 

“Eddie…” you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He can’t help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind. 

Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it he’s on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddie’s eyes find yours when he’s kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft. 

He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that he’s found for the first time. 

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he could’ve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips. 

“You nervous?” he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.

“A little,” you giggle. 

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, “Just gonna make you feel good.” 

He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, you’d been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I won’t tease you, I’m sorry.” 

But he’s lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.

“Actually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since it’s so fucknasty…” gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.

“You said you wouldn’t teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,” you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks. 

“You like that, sugar?” he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel. 

You nod feverishly, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

“Mmm, don’t stop?” he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit. 

“Please,” you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead. 

“Well you’re asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,” he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, “But I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.” 

“Don’t be mean, Ed,” you pout. 

“Okay, I won’t be mean,” he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. He’s confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when he’s doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when she’s getting close, giving it to her over and over again. 

“Oh fuck, Ed — oh my god, baby,” you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him. 

“I like when you look at me like that,” he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling — snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger. 

“You’re so good — fuck — you’re so good at this,” you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue. 

“That’s good for you?” he mumbles. 

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, “Just…unhm, just like that.” 

He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you don’t like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time? 

“Earth to Ed…” he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, “You okay? You stopped and sort of just…stared for a second.” 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, “Just got caught up staring at you.” 

“Ew,” you giggle with a smile, “You think I’m pretty or somethin’?” 

Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, “Well I don’t wanna be too forward…” 

“You’re literally eating me out, you can’t get any more forward,” you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game. 

“Like I was saying — I don’t wanna be too forward, but I think you’re honestly so beautiful,” he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, “And I didn’t wanna be corny and say it while I’m like, neck deep in your pussy.”

“That’s very sweet, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. He’s excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear ‘em all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning — for like…ever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention — but he has a job to finish. 

“You’re very sweet,” he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until he’s between your legs again — he doesn’t tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you. 

“Eddie…” 

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him. 

“M’so close,” you huff, “That feels so good, please don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.” 

He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch. 

“Ooh, you can really take it, baby,” he encourages, “Look at you takin’ all these fingers.” He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back. 

“M’gonna cum…oh shit  — oh fuck Ed I’m g.. — ohfuck — fuckfuckfuck — mmm-ah!” Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak. 

“Thaaaat’s it,” he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head — exactly what he wanted.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers. 

“You okay?” he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you — but he knows your game. He knows you’re gonna lick it off and give him those eyes — so he pulls his wrist away, “Oh, no baby.”  

Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead. 

“I don’t like to waste it, sugar,” he croons, “I can make you something if you’re hungry.” 

His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate. 

“Why don’t I go get cleaned up,” he starts, before catching you in another kiss.

“You should pee since that’s the smart thing to do before and after,” he presses a kiss to your neck.

“And then I’ll take you to bed,” he murmurs huskily, “How’s that?” 

“That’s really nice,” you rasp back, turning so that you’re nose to nose, “But I am a little hungry now that you said that.” 

“You’re funny,” he smiles, another kiss, “I’ll get us a snack and then I’ll take you to bed, is that better?” 

“Much better.”  

Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didn’t get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks. 

“Do you like tiramisu?” he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen. 

“I do. My mom’s is the best actually,” you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face. 

“Will you still eat it if it’s not your mom’s?” he asks, offering you the plate. 

“Yes, of course,” you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, “But first I gotta –” 

Eddie’s taken aback by the kiss, but you don’t notice. He’s swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows you’re trying to fuck just as much as he is. 

“Baby…” he starts, regretfully breaking away, “Are you hungry or not?” 

You don’t answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn. 

“Shit…” you whisper, shoulders drooping. 

“Wh-what? What is it?” he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.

“I…” you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, “I really fucking like you.” 

He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk — because he’s also there, “Does that make you scared?” 

You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” he murmurs, “But if it’s any consolation…”

“I really fucking like you, too.” 

When you kiss again, he’s overwhelmed. 

“Fuck the tiramisu,” you breathe, “Let’s just —.” 

“Mhm,” he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, “I fucking need you.” 

Jingle. Click. Creak. 

“HONEY, WE’RE HOME!” calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, “Put your clothes on, sluts.” 

But it’s not just Steve, it’s the whole party — the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddie’s form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddie’s expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what they’ve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen. 

“So here’s the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Gareth’s phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,” she explains to the both of you, “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s seriously okay,” you laugh, “Please don’t feel bad. It’s you and Gareth’s apartment, too.” 

“Are you mad at me?” Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second. 

He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay.” 

“Okay,” she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, “Gare’s sorry too, but unfortunately he’s busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.”  Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, “She means Robin and Steve.” 

“I figured,” you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and you’re both alone in the kitchen again. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him. 

“What, why? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipa’s One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steve’s passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit. 

“Everything got ruined,” he frowns, “I’m like, kind of embarrassed.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, “There’s always next time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

“No?” he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stayin’ right here?” 

“Well, until I have to go to home,” you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room – You’re literally my best fucking friend. You’re my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much. 

Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you. 

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things s4 #eddie munson x y/n

[billybob598]

More Than You Know (Leah Williamson x Reader)

All right! So this is a F1 reader x Leah fic requested by anon. Again any feedback good or bad is welcomed! I'm sorry if there's lots of f1 talk and some don't get it. I have another f1 fic coming up but other than that nothing else so, if people want to start sending me requests, please do! I'll get more into that later. Anyways, enjoy!

Word Count: 2.1K (That's what Docs said anyways)

Set at Abu Dhabi GP, end of 2023

Thursday

“Hello everyone, and welcome to the final press conference of the 2023 Formula 1 season.” You fix your shirt as you settle into the seat. Max Verstappen, your teammate, on your left with Charles Leclerc beside him.

“Question for Y/N and Max, heading into the final race of the season the title battle is close between the two of you. What kind of mindset do you have for one of the most important races in your career?”

“To win,” Max says simply. All the reporters let out a laugh as you crack a smile.

“Y/N?” The guy who asked the question prompts you.

“Uh, well, I mean for sure to win is the goal but, trying to just stay calm and do what I’ve done for the last twenty-two races,” you explain. After a few more minutes of questions, they let you go. Walking through the paddock and into the Red Bull garage you can’t help but let your mind spiral. This was your first championship battle, this was Max’s third. You were only 22 years old, if you won on Sunday you’d be the youngest-ever F1 champion and the first-ever female champion. You knew you had to be a little lucky on race day, considering you sat five points behind Max. 

Entering your driver room you’re met with your girlfriend, Leah Williamson.

“Hey babe, what are you doing now?” She asks you, watching as you pace back and forth across the room.

“Track walk, I think.” 

“Okay, well I’m going to meet up with Alex in a couple of minutes so, I’ll see you later, yeah?” She presses a small kiss on your forehead. 

“Okay, yeah, see you later,” 

Friday

You loved racing around Yas Marina Circuit, it had just the right amount of technical corners and overtaking opportunities. You loved the lights and going underneath the hotel. Probably the worst part of it though, was the heat. Sitting in your car you feel like you’re going to die from the heat. Sweat just keeps pouring from every pore on your body, making your race suit damp. At the end of Free Practice 2 you were the fastest overall. This gives you a little bit of confidence, your race pace also seemed to be pretty strong so these were all good signs. Leah watches as you take your crash helmet and balaclava off, trying your best to fix your sweaty hair. You looked hot, and Leah was living for it.

“You’re drooling,” Alex, who happened to be right beside her, said. Leah shakes out of her trance enough to give Alex a light slap on the shoulder. 

“Whatever mate, if you had a girlfriend as hot as mine you’d be drooling as well.”

A couple of hours later, after all the media was done and the sponsor dinner was finished, you and Leah finally were able to settle into bed. Leah’s arm draped over you and her head nuzzled into your neck. She was just about to doze off when you spoke very quietly into the darkness,

“Would you be mad at me if I didn’t win?” Of course, Leah knew you were nervous, who in their right mind wouldn’t be? But, for you to think that she would be angry with you if you finished second? That was terrible.

“Of course not, love, I’d be sad for you, sure, but mad? Never.” This seems to calm you down a bit, and soon enough you both are sleeping soundly.

Saturday

“Good luck kiss?”  Your favourite blonde questions. It was a tradition in your relationship, whenever either of you were participating in a sporting event you had to make sure you kissed just before it started. 

“Of course,”  you say with a smile, not that she can see it. Your helmet already on with your visor up so she can see your eyes. Leah kisses where she imagines your lips are, you can’t help the dopey smile that comes across your face, the squint of your eyes making it obvious what you’re doing.

Leah watches on as your car pulls out of the garage and onto the track. After making it through both Q1 and Q2 easily now comes the biggest test, the top 10 shootout. Your banker lap for Q3 is solid, only six-hundredths of Max’s time and you know you can improve. As you cross the line to start your second flying lap you feel the adrenaline rush through your veins. Every turn of the steering wheel, every push of the pedals, and every G against your body feels just right. Heading into the final sector you know you’re going faster than your first lap. Crossing the line, your entire body relaxes as you hear your engineer over the radio,

“Okay mate, that’s P1 so far, P1 so far, but Max is yet to cross the line.” You wait anxiously for Max to finish his lap. Leah feels her heart sink as she sees Max’s name move above yours on the timing screen. 

“For fuck’s sake, fuck this shit, honestly,” you say over the radio.

“It’s okay Y/N, points come tomorrow,” your engineer replies.

“You’re right, you’re right, let’s get them tomorrow.”

Leah gives you a hug when she finally sees you after all the media and post-qualifying traditions.

“You did great love, don’t be too hard on yourself,” she says sweetly. You sigh, knowing she is right.

“Mhm, I’m not that happy but I’ll get over it. I think right now all I wanna do is go back to the hotel and cuddle with you,” you mutter with a little pout. Leah finds this adorable. So, when you guys do get back to the hotel she cuddles with you until you fall asleep, only hours before one of the most important races of your life.

Sunday

When you wake up you feel the nerves settle inside of you. Leah tried her best to get you to eat something before your race. Abu Dhabi was a night race so, you still had the whole day ahead of you. After going through the pre-race meetings with your engineers you feel pretty confident in the strategy for today. As you walk around the grid with the music in your headphones blasting you see your girlfriend walking towards you. Slipping one side of your ear so you can hear, you give her a questioning look. She never usually comes onto the grid before races, why would she now? 

“I just wanted to wish you good luck,” Leah says kindly, “I know you’re nervous, but don’t be, you’re gonna smash it out there.” Your heart melts at her consideration.

“Thanks Lee, I’ll do you proud I swear,” you say, looking at her with what can only be described as heart-eyes. 

“You already have, more than you know,” she smiles at you, giving one last kiss on your lips before heading back to the garage.

A couple of minutes later, you’re sitting inside your car mentally preparing yourself for the race. The entire formation lap your mind is blank, trying your best to not overthink. As you park in your grid slot as close to a billion people watch with their breaths held.

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix!” Crofty exclaims into his microphone.

You get a good start drawing alongside Max heading into the first corner, but he pushes you wide. As the pair of you continue to the first of two long straights, you follow closely behind him gaining a slipstream. When you enter the braking zone you decide to go for a dive bomb, getting your elbows out a little to barge past your teammate and take the lead. 

“She can’t fucking do that, mate. She pushed me off the track,” Max voices to GP.

“If Max has a problem with that, then he can cry in a crib, that was clean.”

As the race gets past halfway done, both you and Max had made pit stops, while also exchanging the lead of the race multiple times. Leah had about chewed her entire nail off watching. She was nervous as hell, she could feel something bad about to happen, she just knew it in her gut. 

You once again closed up to the rear end of Max with DRS. As you got close enough to pass you slightly jerked out to the left before cutting back to the right, effectively dummying him. You were on the outside heading into the sweeping left-hander of Turn 9, you tried your best to give him space, but he completely misses the apex and rams into your front wheel/side of your car. Your neck whips to the side as you try to keep control of your car. 

“What the fuck was that?! What a fucking idiot, I gave him shitloads of space! Is there any damage on the car?” You are pretty much yelling into the radio. The anger you’re feeling showing through your choice of words.

“So, major front wing damage we are going to have to box. Box, box.” Swearing under your breath you pull into the pit lane for new tyres and a new front wing. Stopping on your marks you sit there for what feels like forever before finally getting the green light and getting back on track. Leah knows you are fuming but she also knows that you’re very good at turning that anger into motivation. She readies herself for a wild end to the race.

“Okay, so the gap to Max is 30 seconds.”

“Just leave me alone, I know what to do,” you say sternly.

For the next 24 laps, you put in of the most impressive comebacks in F1 history. Closing the gap a little bit each lap. You fully catch up to him on the final lap of the race. The entire world sits on the edge of their seat as you stick right up to Max’s gearbox for the majority of the lap. Entering the final sector, you find the gap to stick your nose down. Making an unorthodox move down the inside into Turn 12. When it becomes clear that you stuck the move your side of the garage goes crazy. Leah screams, thinking it is too good to be true. As you head around the final corner, the Red Bull mechanics hang off the side of the fence cheering and yelling as you cross the finish line. 

“She’s redefined motorsport as we know it, and as she crosses the line Y/N Y/L/N is CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!” Crofty shouts. 

“AAAHHHH OH MY GODDDD! YESSS GUYS COME ON! I’M GONNA FUCKING CRY!” You scream over the radio. 

“YOU” VE DONE IT MATE! YOU’VE DONE IT! GOOD LORD!” Your engineer screams back at you. You start to cry as you go around for your celebration lap. When you park in front of the number 1 sign you take a minute inside of your car to collect your thoughts. Finally, you get out and stand on top of the car, raising your arms in celebration. You jump down and start sprinting to your team. After receiving multiple hugs and slaps on the back, mixed with a varying range of screams and yells, you decide to look for your girlfriend. Looking around you spot your favourite person on Earth and make a beeline for her. She pulls you into a bone-crunching hug, tears streaming down her face. 

“I’m so fucking proud of you, more than you know,” she says tearfully. You give her an award-winning smile before moving to take your helmet and balaclava off. You surprise Leah when you connect your lips in front of God knows how many cameras. 

“I’m a World Champion Lee, a World Champion.”

“I know Y/N, I know,” she giggles at how excited you look. After completing the post-race interview you make your way to the podium.

“And your Abu Dhabi Grand Prix winner and 2023 World Champion, Y/N Y/L/N!” 

The crowd and paddock below you roar as you make your way onto the podium, pumping your fists with joy. Stepping onto the top step of the podium, a sense of relief washes over you, everything you’d worked for this entire season, your entire life basically, had finally paid off. You take your cap off when your national anthem plays and begin to scan through the crowd until you meet blue ones. You give her a grin and blow her a kiss. She returns it. When you are finally handed your first-place trophy you raise it high with a little yell. After the rest of the podium is handed their trophies, you get to your favourite part, the champagne. Spraying it in every possible place, you can’t stop the stupid-looking smile from taking over your facial features. When the celebrations seem to die down a little you look over at Leah, mouthing,

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” she mouths back.

“More than you know.”

#leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #f1 reader x woso

[vulturv0lans]

you asked for neuvillette smut ideas and you shall receive. you've perhaps seen this prompt already and that's because i am ✨unwell✨ about it.

he should have a forked tongue, he would look so good with one🫠🫠🫠 and it should have interesting uses~

OH GOD I JUST READ THAT LAST NIGHT!! let me just say i love this idea so much that i have to post it NOW when i should be asleep 🫠 i’ll add my theme & formatting later <3

i like to think that you find out about his special abilities after a night out, because there’s no way you haven’t discovered this a good few months into a relationship :) like you’d meet him at a party or at a bar, and before you know it you’re pressed up against the wall in some dimly lit back room and this man is all. over. you. in a manner that even the chief justice in him cannot control. if anyone who frequents the opera epiclese finds him like this, they’d probably question that he’d been possessed by a completely different man - so impulsive, so needy, acting out his heart’s every desire.

with the way he’s kissing you so fervently, it doesn’t take long for you to notice something different about his kisses. when he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, your eyes shoot open and you pull back a little, earning a dissatisfied grunt from neuvillette as he chases after you.

“come back here-”

you reject his advances, holding him at an arm’s length and studying his features intently. he mumbles his disapproval and tries to tighten his grip on your waist, but you dodge his kiss, choosing to find out the reason behind the completely new sensation on your lips.

“open your mouth.”

you’re not sure what you sound like at this point. an impatient dentist, maybe, or a person so desperate for something more…primal. you feel like the latter is the more correct answer.

the frown on his face soon turns into a smirk, and it bothers you on a fundamental, cellular level to see him so smug, as if he knows something you don’t-

large hands encircle yours as he brings your arm up to his lips, before licking a sensual, bold stripe up the inner side of your wrists.

and you just about melt right there when you finally notice. the tip of his tongue is forked in a manner so perfect, that you can only compare it to something straight out of the legends and storybooks.

you gasp, the wet patch on your skin now feeling cool in the exposed air and the wet patch elsewhere is now feeling…wetter.

“seeing that you enjoyed it, i can think of several ways to put that to good use, hm?”

and the rest is history. you don’t remember how you got to his apartment, nor how you ended up half naked on his couch, with the chief justice of fontaine between your legs.

you start to question if his tongue has a mind of its own, which soon turns into alarmed curiosity about where exactly he learned these maneuvers. it’s not like he has loads of free time to just experiment, right?

but when your clit is caught between the split ends of his tongue, your brain ceases to be able to function overtime and all you can think about is that you need him to eat you out at least three times a day, if not more.

the tips are nestled so perfectly against your dripping pussy, spreading you open just enough for the occasional dips inside and the expert swirls of your clit. your back arches off the sofa as your legs close around his head, earning a moan that sends vibrations into the deepest parts of your body. you reach down to pull on his hair, the white strands matted against his forehead and your inner thighs from sweat and your juices.

“i’m gonna have to punish you if you keep doing this,” he warns, and for a moment you almost believe he’ll bring down the wrath of the oratrice mecanique on you. but he wastes no time in diving right back to his feast, dipping his tongue into your throbbing hole. your insides feel like they are on fire as he tickles nerve endings you didn’t even know you had, reaching so deep into your pussy that you cum right there and then with a loud cry of his name.

neuvillette doesn’t stop. instead, he only pumps in and out of you faster, the slurping noises now too lewd for even the wildest imaginations, mixed with praise mumbled directly into your pussy. even in your dazed and fucked out state, the only remaining piece of your conscience questions if you’ll ever come down from this high as he eats you out like a man starved, large hands firmly keeping your legs spread for easy access and your juices dripping down his chin. and still he doesn’t stop, not until you’ve cummed two, three, or four more times, until you’ve squirted all over his face, until there’s nothing else in your mind except for him.

you know there’s no getting out of it until he’s satisfied, but for this time you’ll happily oblige.

—

i want him so bad wtf

neuvillette m.list | m.list | rules | inbox

© vulturv0lans 2023, do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

#luna writes ☽ #anon asks ☽ #genshin impact #genshin smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette #screaming crying rolling on the floor

[javarium]

— Christmas Prompts

I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas and/or very Happy Holidays and New Year! Feel free to send me some of these dialogue prompts or use them for yourselves as well! ;3

[ the pics are not mine and the beautiful line divider to the wonderful @cafekitsune ]

prompt 1 — “The kids are gonna be pissed there’s no cookies for Santa because you ate them all.”

prompt 2 — “I’ll kiss you anywhere but under the mistletoe.”

prompt 3 — “It’s our baby’s first Christmas. I don’t think they’re going to remember you buying them all of these stuffies.”

prompt 4 — “Merry first Christmas together, baby.”

prompt 5 — “Of course I get sick on Christmas. Only me.”

prompt 6 — “The best Christmas present you could give me is letting me sleep.”

prompt 7 — “Dressing up as Santa isn’t so bad! See?”

prompt 8 — “I know you’ve been wanting to match sweaters. I was looking for ones you’d like to surprise you.”

prompt 9 — “Wake me up when December ends.”

prompt 10 — “I know this is the first time you’ve ever celebrated Christmas.”

prompt 11 — “No that isn’t how you make hot cocoa. You make it with milk, not water.”

prompt 12 — “If you ask me if I wanna build a snowman one more time, I’m gonna break your jaw and ban sexy time.”

prompt 13 — “Oh, my god. Cheesy Christmas movies. I don’t want to— Oh, this one’s actually pretty good.”

prompt 14 — “If that’s your best job at wrapping, I’d say Santa needs to hire some new elves.”

prompt 15 — “I bet there’s gonna be a Christmas pregnancy announcement.” “Yeah, it’ll be ours.”

prompt 16 — “You belong on top of the Christmas tree, angel.”

prompt 17 — “I used to write letters to Santa. No, it’s not cute.”

prompt 18 — “Let me take you to see Christmas lights.”

prompt 19 — “Let’s spend Christmas together. Me, you, and the store bought, pre-lit tree. No? Is it because I insulted the tree?”

prompt 20 — “Baby, I love you, but there are too many sweets. Even for me.”

prompt 21 — “Come back to bed. It’s okay to sleep in. I know you were up all night.”

prompt 22 — “You shouldn’t be cooped up in here by yourself on Christmas.”

prompt 23 — “Yes, I fell and gave myself a concussion and unfortunately had to call you to pick me up. No, hanging tree lights had nothing to do with it.”

prompt 24 — “I didn’t have anyone else to spend Christmas with. Hope you don’t mind if I spend it with you.”

prompt 25 — “I’ve never built a snowman before.”

#christmas prompts #prompt list #gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #wriothesley x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #midoriya x reader #bakugo x reader #hawks x reader

[faith-forgxtten-land]

Hihihi!

I'm not sure if your requests are open, but the fic I just read was a request and was posted within the last 24 hrs, so I'm gonna take the chance that they are (can you tell I'm autistic yet?😂)

Could I request a slightly nsfw (just a lil spicy) Bay!Raph fic where the Fem! Reader is watching him workout and offhandedly mentions that she wishes she could lift as much as he does?

Her question prompts him to let her lay on the bench and "lift" the weights (obviously he's carrying almost all of the weight). Just a corny little piece that shows our Big Red some love.

Thank you for your time!💜

Spotting | Raphael

requests are open dw!! honestly feel free to send as many requests as you want at any time, if they're not open you'll know because i'll plaster it somewhere obvious. and corny pieces are the best kind <3

since its valentine's day, i kind of went extra corny with a vague valentine's plot... i hope you like it and lemme know what you think! it's only slightly spicy and suggestive because tbh i wasn't sure how far to go.

warnings: suggestive, slight choking? (oops) valentine's day mentions, single people try not cry too much. everyone is 18+!! never proofread

summary: it's valentine's day and for some reason you have nothing better to do than watch raphael lift weights

word count: 1195

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Why are you lifting weights on Valentine’s Day?”

“Why are you watching me lift weights on Valentine’s Day?” Raphael retorts quickly and it’s such a good question that you pause.

Well, then. You sniff in mock indignance. “I’ll have you know that I was asked out by 12.5 different people ahead of today, thank you very much.”

You can’t see it, but you can tell he’s smirking. “12.5?”

“I figure Mikey only counts for 0.5 since I’m pretty sure he’d ask every woman he sees if he could.”

Raph snorts and your mouth pulls into a stupidly wide smile knowing you’ve amused him. He’s so relaxed like this, when it’s just the two of you, and your smile turns soft at the thought. There’s no one you’d rather spend the day with – Valentine’s Day or not – and the view isn’t bad either.

Speaking of... you tilt your head. Rivulets of sweat trickle down his green skin and you bite your lip watching the flexing of his muscles. He’s so much bigger than you, you’re pretty sure his bicep is bigger than your head, and he could cover your entire face with his palm – he’d done it just yesterday when you wouldn’t stop pestering him about a romcom you wanted to watch (it’s okay, you knew they were secretly his favourite kind of movie too, he didn’t have to protest so much – even grown turtles should be allowed to indulge in some Richard Gere and Julia Roberts). 

His size had intimidated you at first, had made you hesitant, but now it makes your knees weak and makes your heart accelerate with something entirely different to fear. It’s quiet apart from his breathing and the clang of his weights and you wonder if he can hear the thundering of your pulse.

“You’re staring.”

“Hmm?”

His muscles flex again and you’re quick to press your thighs together. You’re certain it's deliberate at this point. “You’re staring,” he repeats, his voice a little deeper.

You flush as you realise what he’s saying. “Not my fault you can bench press a truck,” you grumble to hide your embarrassment. “I’m jealous.”

The terrapin smirks again and sits up, his eyes bright. “C’mere.”

“Ex-squeeze me?”

It’s Raph’s turn to grumble. “You’ve been hanging around Mikey too much.”

You grin because it's true and walk slowly towards where he’s waiting. Your feet are clearly more sensible and less fuzzy than your brain (you are definitely not still thinking – and staring – at his arms, nope) because they stop just before you can stand between his legs. His eyes run along the curves of your calves and his gaze feels like a dizzying caress as it glides up your torso, lingering on the bare skin around your throat in a hungry way that makes you swallow just to watch him watch the movement. “What’s the plan, Red?” 

Your voice doesn’t feel like your own and you’re kind of impressed by how put-together you sound. It’s not the breathless wheeze you expected, it's low and sultry and suggestive and your eyes flutter as his breath hitches. The two of you have flirted before but this feels different. It’s intimate beyond your typical friendly banter and you have the urge to touch him.

He reaches for you first, pulling you closer and resting his hands on your hips. His hands are huge, and your mouth feels dry as he squeezes a little too hard to be innocent. “Raph...”

He squeezes again at your murmur. “Lie down.” His voice is rough and you shiver. He brushes his fingers across the goosebumps he’s raised, and you let him manoeuvre you with ease.

It probably looks so silly, and you fight the incredulous laughter that bubbles in your chest. The bar above you is ridiculously oversized and heavy and the thought of you lifting it is absurd and your laugh can’t be stopped this time as you look at the green-skinned ninja above you. His lips are twitching as you cackle and your eyes focus on the scar that decorates them, longing to soothe your tongue over it, as you regain your composure. “You good?”

“I’m good,” you reassure him. He’s so fucking cute, you think. You can see his nervousness now even if he tries to play it off and you feel like you’ve just swallowed a bucketful of butterflies. “Are you spotting?”

Raph runs his tongue – you do not shift your hips at how thick it is – across his upper lip, over that scar you want to taste for yourself. He looks torn for a moment, building himself up, and places his heavy hands on the bar above you. “Something like that,” he agrees before instructing you on how to position your hands.

You push up and immediately swear at the impossible weight. Raph snickers and you pout and glare simultaneously. “Don’t be mean.”

“You haven’t seen me be mean, baby.”

Oh. Your glare falters. That’s just not fair and he knows it. He’s grinning now and you curse him in your head. You push again and this time the bar lifts, as light as a feather. His hands are still wrapped around it and you’re not lifting a single thing, but the moment feels heavy. He hasn’t let his eyes drift from yours and you don’t dare look away. It feels intense and intimate and you can admit that your skin is on fire and your pulse is throbbing knowing how easily he’s carrying a weight that you couldn’t budge with all your might.

He guides the bar back down after a moment that could have been seconds or minutes or hours and you release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. He’s still looking at you as you sit up and he invades your personal space. You have to tilt your head back to maintain eye-contact and you shudder as his palm cups your chin.

He’s so tall and imposing and you have to bite your tongue as his hand trails further down. You let him wrap his fingers around your neck and you rest your hand on top of his in encouragement, unable to stop a needy whine as he heeds your silent request and squeezes gently. His pupils are blown and he’s breathing harder than he had been while working out and you feel smug knowing you’ve caused this reaction. In a blink he’s pushed you back and he’s leaning over you. He smells like sweat and his skin is damp from exertion and it's kind of gross and it really shouldn’t be turning you on, but it is and your legs spread involuntarily.

You expect him to close the gap between your lips as he hovers above you and your eyes that had fluttered shut open again when it’s clear he has no intention of moulding your mouths together. He’s got a soft look in his eyes paired with a devilish smile and it makes your chest burn. You don’t expect the next words out of his mouth.

“Be my Valentine?”

You splutter and he laughs as he finally presses his lips to yours.

#tmnt raphael #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt raph x reader #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #bayverse raphael #tmnt #tmnt x reader #bayverse raph #tmnt imagine #i never know how to feel about my own writing

[silversainz]

Hi, I have only now seen a prompt list, god all of them are amaizing it was very hard to choose.

But I was thinking 28 “I’ll fuck your pretty mouth, so shut up”

And

15 “nobody, not even him, could fuck you like i can”

So my idea was, after Monaco, Charles is pissed and dissappointed and he just needs to let off some steam. His girl is nowhere to be found and then he sees her chating with Lando(or someone else, I don’t know how you feel about him, but with penalty I thought it would fit well) or congratulating him on points

So he decides to punish her right there in his drivers room, when she finally makes her way back

# warnings — jealousy-sex, choking, fingering, p n v, dirty talk.

He was pissed steam practically coming out of his ears as he took off his helmet throwing it to the side while undoing the zippers to his suit. Another home race and they fucked me once again Charles thought as he ignored everyone in the garage, too pissed off and needing someone or something to blow off some steam he carried on his back.

He walked around the garage looking everywhere for you, people looked at him like he was crazy for shouting your name. But he didn’t care, you needed you badly.

“Where’s y/n” he sternly asked one of the engineers who only pointed to the mclaren garage where he swore he could hear your laugher from all the way over there. He wasted no time in running over to the mclaren garage, jaw clenched, chest heavy with tension.

Upon entering the mclaren garage he finally saw you standing there in the middle of the garage talking with lando, out of people fucking lando. The one person he couldn’t bare seeing at the moment. He scoffed rolling his eyes as he walked over to you.

“Y/n” you turned around eyes wide as you saw his red face and clenched jaw. “What are you doing here” he spat out sending a glance towards the mclaren driver.

“Was congratulating lando?” You simply said, hearing lando chuckle hand on your lower back. Which Charles saw and that made him grab onto your arm tightly stealing you away from the hold of lando. “Love, you okay?” you probably shouldn’t ask that, knowing full well what happened with his home race. But even at that, you’d never saw him this angry before.

“No” he simply said, a yelp falling from your mouth as he pulled you out of the mclaren garage.

“See you soon y/n” he heard lando shout which only pissed him off even more. He pulled you around like you were a doll, dragging you through the Ferrari garage going towards his motohome. Where he shoved you into the home, making you whine out in pain as his grip on your arm only tightened up.

“Okay Charles, let me go” he didn’t. Only pushed you up against the wall lips crashing onto yours in a rough and sloppy manner. His hand slipped underneath your sundress fingertips messing with the hem of your panties.

“No talking, or I’ll fuck your pretty mouth, so shut up” you moaned feeling him push your panties to the side before pushing two fingers in your cunt. “Was supposed to be by me, but instead you were with him” you gasped back arching as he brutally slipped his fingers in and out of your wet hole, cunt clenching around him made him dryly chuckle.

“Needed you so badly” his hand that was grabbing onto the wall for support made its way towards your neck, cold and rough hand wrapping around your pretty throat tightly. “And i had to find you with him” your eyes rolled back, head hitting the wall with a thud.

“Charles, fuck, I’m sorry” you choked out, legs closing around his hand as he hit that one spot that had you seeing white. “Am so sorry” he pushed his fireproof down, hardened cock hitting his abdomen as he hoisted you up, ripping your panties in half.

He angrily pushed inserted his cock in your cunt, not even caring to spear you a second to breathe. Your nails scratched down his back, loud moans and grunts filling up the room as his cock slipped in and out of your cunt.

He tugged your dress down freeing your breasts, his mouth immediately catching the nipple in his mouth sucking on it, before latching down with his teeth. The pain sent a wave of pleasure down your body. “Fuck, fuck, Charles” your hand threaded through his hair harshly tugging on it as you felt him bite down on every inch of your breast.

“Nobody, even him, could fuck you like i can” you nodded, head empty and too dumb to think about the words he was spitting out, only could focus on his cock hitting your walls so good it left you breathless and gasping for air.

“And next time” he ducked his head in your neck lips brushing over the shell of your ear. “Don’t even think about going to his garage”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc imagine #f1 drabbles

[callsign-joyride]

For some reason the link to request won’t work on my phone :( . Can I please request a Fall Fluff for Jake for prompt 15 where the reader is the one who is sick ?

Chicken Noodle Soup | Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Jake worries that you're having second thoughts about the relationship, only to find that the reason you haven't been responding is because you've been sick all day.

Content warnings: Fanboy being a menace, mentions of an illness/virus (NOT COVID-19), fluff

Prompt: 15. Sender lies next to the receiver (who is recovering from injuries or illness) and spoons them while staying awake to make sure their health doesn’t deteriorate overnight.

This was written for my Fluffy Fall Fantasy event. Feel free to send in requests!

Jake was stressed. You hadn’t been dating for very long, and you weren’t technically official, but it was Hard Deck night and you hadn’t responded to his text messages since last night. He was tempted to call you to check in and see if everything was okay, but he didn’t want to seem clingy and obsessive while it was totally possible that you forgot to plug your phone in the night before, or that you left it at home while you were getting ready for work.

“Honestly, man, I was thinking she’d ghost you a lot sooner than this,” Fanboy said as they were getting their things to leave. Jake didn’t even have the energy to react.

“You’re good at relationships, Rooster. Would it be weird if I drove by her house on my way home?”

“I don’t know, man. None of us have ever met her but maybe she’d be okay with it based on what you’ve said about her in passing.”

“Or maybe she doesn’t exist and he wanted to hide the fact that he’s not getting laid.”

“Dude, too far,” Payback said to Fanboy. Jake just shrugged it off and grabbed his bag before heading out to his truck and finding your address in his phone. You lived pretty close to base so it wasn’t a very bad drive at all. Right as he turned down your street, his phone started ringing and your name was on the screen.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you but I think I’ve got the flu or a common cold or something.”

“Do you want me to bring you medicine? I’m like five minutes from a CVS.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s Hard Deck night. You should be out with your friends. I can go another time. I think I’ll make some soup and go back to sleep.”

“Hard Deck night is a weekly thing and Coyote’s deployed so I kind of don’t want to go anyways. I’d have more fun staying in with you. Plus I’ve got a family recipe of chicken noodle soup and it’ll probably be the best chicken noodle soup you’ll ever have.”

After a moment, you sniffled and said that he could come over and that you’d leave your door unlocked. He walked into your house about an hour after he got off the phone with you with reusable bags on his arms. You were laying on the couch under a blanket while an 80’s movie played on the TV. 

“I brought medicine,” he said as he unloaded everything in the kitchen. You peered over the couch and smiled before taking a sip of your Gatorade that was on the coffee table. He came over to sit next to you after getting everything put away. It was almost unbelievable how sick you were, considering that you felt completely fine the day before. Your fever broke earlier in the day but you had been sleeping for most of it, living off of Gatorade and nearly stale crackers that you found in the back of your pantry. You changed the channel to something that you knew he’d like before nuzzling into the pillow that you brought from your bedroom.

“Poor thing. I’m gonna get your soup started. It should take about half an hour, okay? Let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded your head and scrolled through social media before going back to sleep for a little bit. The smell of the soup was what woke you up a little bit later, as Jake walked over and placed your bowl on the table in front of you. He made enough to last you a whole week, and he even offered to send you the recipe if you liked it. He was right, it was the best chicken noodle soup you’d ever had. Ten o’clock rolled around and even though it was considered early for you, you grabbed your pillow and blanket and started heading up the stairs. You were surprised when Jake followed you, considering that you had spent the few hours since you ate barely talking to each other. 

“I need to shower,” you said as you got your pajamas out.

“Okay. I’ll wait here.”

He had sent a few texts to the Dagger Squad group chat while you were in the shower, saying that he’d see everyone in the morning but that he had to take care of you. You took a big sip of water before crawling under the covers, Jake following suit.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he wrapped an arm around your middle.

“Staying with you, if that’s okay.”

“What if I get you sick?”

“I’ll take time off. Mav loves me so it’ll be fine. I don’t want anything to happen to you through the night.”

“Oh. Okay. Then yeah, you can stay. But don’t come crying to me if you get the man flu.”

“Trust me, I won’t. My dad taught me and my brothers better than to be dramatic so that a woman will take care of us.”

“That’s good,” you said with a chuckle.

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx @Lolliepops2501

Taglist form (Google form, email is not asked)

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #x reader #top gun maverick #reader insert #top gun #hangman fluff #callsign joyride's fluffy fall fantasy

[finniestoncrane]

12 Days of Kinkmas • Day 11: Piss - General!Boomerang x GN!Reader request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist • dividers minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: drunk boomer, piss, unexpected piss, oral sex

It was already well into Christmas morning, and it’s not that you were particularly bound to tradition, but you were desperate to get home. The party was supposed to finish at midnight, and you’d been suffering through the drunken revelry for way longer than you really wanted to. Digger of course, ever the life of the party, had other ideas, but it was dangerously close to encroaching on your ability to sleep enough before you woke up to open presents, so you had to find him and drag him home.

After looking in every bathroom available, assuming he might be slumped over one of the toilets, you finally caught sight of him in the kitchen, just the back of him, facing away from your view and delivering some disgusting anecdote to a group of people who laughed and cringed at his words.

“Oy! Digger, time to go home!”

Usually, he responded better to sharp, short commands. Like a dog. And it worked like a charm as he turned his head towards you, smile erupting across his wonky, drunken face.

“Babe! Check this out!”

He turned his entire body to you, and you saw that he had taped a clump of mistletoe to the top of his belt, thrusting his crotch in the air as the branches waved around.

“Gotta have a kiss under the mistletoe, eh?”

The others around him offered a pity chuckle and waved him off, returning to the conversation, glad to be rid of the attention hog that was now stumbling towards you.

“Whaddayasay?”

He slurred his words, and you could smell the beer on his breath, droplets of it falling on your shirt as he waved his half-full can around.

“George, I really just want to go home.”

He raised his eyebrows over and over, eyes half-lidded, but not equally on either side. Just the sight of him made you giggle, and you let out a delighted squeal when he hooked his arm around you and brought you in to him, his words muffled as he rubbed his face into your neck. His free arm fumbled around, reaching for the handle to the bathroom door just beside you.

“C’mon… just a little kiss! I’ll leave right away if you just come with me into this bathroom and give me a little smooch… under the mistletoe.”

Whenever he was tipsy, he was ridiculously amorous, always on you, showering you with compliments, hands pawing at your body. It was hard to resist his sloppy charms at the best of times, but this was love bombing to the Nth degree and you were very happy to be targeted by them. And knowing you would get to go home and have some fun with George when he was in such a good mood felt like a win/win.

"Fine... but you better be quick."

"Am I ever anything but?"

He winked at the blatantly false self-deprecation and led you, stumbling, into the bathroom. As he shut the door and locked it, you sank to your knees in front of him. His fly was already undone, typical of him, so when you undid his button, he was quick to slip his fingers below the waistband and shift his pants down, his semi-erect cock bouncing up a little when freed. He had pulled the mistletoe off as his pants fell to the floor and held it now against his flat abdomen, resting in the patch of dark red pubic hair above his shaft.

"Well, are you gonna kiss it?"

Leaning in with a sultry smile, you pressed your lips to the tip of his cock, feeling it twitch at the contact, at your warmth on the red and sticky head. Swelling slightly, stiffening and rigid, you grasped at the base of his thick length and opened up the kiss, letting your lips slide down his girthy cock until you could feel his head at the back of your throat, your nose flat against his body.

Pulling your head back with a gasp, you took a breath and then enveloped him in your mouth once more, careful not to take in too much, just enough that you could taste him, savour him, and make him moan as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked on him.

Out of it, in part due to the amount of beer he had drank and out of the fog of arousal, Digger's body relaxed, all tension falling away as he released himself. Not in the manner you had expected though, as your mouth was flooded with a slightly sweet, intensely salty flavour, liquid hitting the back of your throat forcefully until you pulled back in surprise. The warm, yellow liquid flowed from the tip of his cock, the stream coating your face and dribbling down your chin. As it began to trickle to the floor, Digger noticed and with a look of panic on his face, he tried to step back, but you kept a grip on his cock, aiming it down, letting his piss cover your shirt as he stared down at you in disbelief, eyes wide, body trembling as the stream softened to a tiny trickle and then ceased altogether.

Both of you stayed perfectly still for a few moments, not entirely sure what to say until the ice was broken in true, blunt, Digger fashion.

"Well, fuck me! That was pretty hot babe... remind me about it tomorrow when I'm sober, 'kay? I'll uh... I'll wash your shirt for you, maybe buy some plastic sheets..."

Wiping your thumb on the corner of your mouth and lifting your coat to cover your shirt, you nodded, knowing you wouldn't let him forget it in a hurry.

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #finnie writes #george harkness #captain boomerang x reader #captain boomerang fic #captain boomerang fanfic #captain boomerang x you

[ghost-bxrd]

blog guidelines and tags

Hi! I’m GhostBird! This blog is dedicated to any and all things Batman and Robin related featuring copious amounts of fluff and feels 💚

First of all: be kind. Both to me and to each other. If there’s a prompt/opinion you don’t like please keep scrolling or simply block. Rude commentary or harassment of any kind will not be tolerated, and yes that also applies to ships you may find distasteful. If I have too many people going anon to be rude I will be turning that function off. This is a safe space, and I will enforce that with prejudice. 🐍

Second of all: Have Fun. Go wild. I love talking and brainstorming with you guys. And if you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask 🦅

TAG GUIDE

prompts — plot bunnies that hit me over the head at random times of the day. If you get inspired, feel free to write something for it. Or if you’d like to brainstorm for a certain prompt just reblog and tag me 💚

Digital Art — my art (unless it’s reblogged) ranging from sketches and little comic doodles to full paintings. Usually of the angsty variety ⛈️

Owl Song — for the Talon!Dick fic series I’m writing featuring lots of feels 🦉

what you’re longing for you claim to abhor — for the fic with Jason pretending to be a hallucination where the Bats think Hood was Jason’s boyfriend 🫀

Shuck — Church Grimm Jason AU 🐺

The Antithesis of Magic — for the fic where Jason Todd adopts a young Bruce Wayne from an alternate universe and takes him back to his own and now has to navigate being a dad to a traumatized ten year old who’s hell bent on becoming a vigilante while simultaneously juggling his night job as a crime lord, all while keeping both their identities secret from the Bats 🦇

ghost talks — responses to asks and suggestions, some general musings, and random thoughts 👻

brainstorming — brainstorming for fic ideas or existing fics

Fae Dick Grayson — the Fae au with multiple headcanons and little convos without an actual fic (yet) lol 🌲

Court Family — the batfam as part of the Court of Owls AU 🪙

Selkie Au — Selkie Jason 🦭

Etsy — updates and stuff for my Etsy store, mostly Batboys related 🦅

And… that’s pretty much it for now. I’ll update this list when or if necessary ✨

Edit:

My ask box is currently open for follow up requests for my existing (finished) fics! I can’t promise I’ll write them all but chances are good I’ll take an interest. Just let me know which fic you want a follow up scene on (with a specific!!! scenario pls that fits into the verse) and I might write a couple hundred words for it and post it in Ghost Stories. 💚

#blog guide #tags #rules #please respect the rules 💚 #Batman #Robin #dcu #jason todd #bruce wayne #batdad #dick grayson #tim drake #red hood #Nightwing #red robin #Damian wayne #Damian al ghul #batfamily #friendly reminder that if I see any more posts/replies/asks with ship bashin I’ll write a ship fic out of spite #seriously pls just be respectful of others #and quietly back away if you see something you don’t like #it’s not hard

[fluentmoviequoter]

dalton lambert + prompt 7 please?

i love your work its amazing x

Thank you so much!! This is the last of the requests from the 100 followers celebration, but my requests are open so feel free to check my requests rules and send me some!

Warnings: fluff, reader can drive, mentions Foster and Kali, Dalton knows the reader really well, this is mostly dialogue. 0.4k+ words.

100+ Followers Celebration Masterlist

Prompt 7: "Can't you stay a little longer?"

“Do you think she’ll like it?” you ask, looking over at the wrapped present sitting by his bag.

“Kali will love it, I promise.” Dalton smiles.

You look down at your phone, sighing as you see the time. “It’s time for you to go, your dad is probably waiting."

“Can’t you stay a little longer?” Dalton asks, catching your wrist as you stand.

“You’re going to be late if I don’t leave now; I’m sure you have a few more things to do,” you answer with a smile.

“They’ll understand.”

“Will they? Because I’m pretty sure you haven’t mentioned me.”

Dalton moves his hand down to hold yours. He looks at your joined hands before lifting his eyes to yours.

“Then come with me, meet everyone,” he suggests.

“Dalton, I’m not going to crash your little sister’s birthday party.”

“Fine.” He sighs as he lays back on his bed. “Then I’m not going.”

You let your head fall back and stare at the ceiling in frustration.

“Looks like you’re staying,” Dalton points out, a little too much pride in his voice.

“Will your parents be mad?”

Dalton smiles as he realizes you’re considering it.

“Nope,” he answers confidently. “They’d love it honestly. And Kali will probably give you the third degree if my brother doesn’t beat her to it.”

You bite your lip as you think, glancing at your phone to see what time it is. Looking back at Dalton, you nod and send him a small smile.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll come with you.”

“Yes!” he cheers as he stands and grabs his bag. “We’ll stop by your dorm on the way to the car so we can get your stuff.”

Dalton grabs your hand as he leads you out of his dorm and toward yours.

“Wait, Dalton, who’s driving you?”

“You are.”

You stop, pulling Dalton to a stop as well. “What?”

“I talked to my mom last night and told her that you’d drive me. She was completely on board.”

“How did you know I’d agree?”

Dalton steps a little closer and smiles as you look at him. “I know you. And if you said no, for some reason, such as you stopped loving me.” He pauses as you gently slap his shoulder. “I would have told you the truth and asked if you could at least drive me. You still don’t actually have to go to the party.”

“No, no, I’m going to the party. I’m sure Foster would love to hear some stories about you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

You begin walking, pulling Dalton with you. “Try me. I’m in now, so expect me to stay for a very, very long time.”

Dalton smiles as he falls into step beside you. “I’m counting on it.”

#dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert #insidious #insidious the red door #100 followers celebration

[diodellet]

Hihi Lili here, this is the first time I’m requesting something on here/ I'm not used to tumblr very much TT so i’m sorry in advance if I get anything wrong!!

For the valentine’s event would it be okay to ask for 1. w/ Jamil :3 and have she/her pronouns? As for a descriptors the only thing I really have for that is long black hair and warm brown skin if that’s alright :>

Also I just wanted to mention too, I absolutely love your writing especially the way you write Jamil it’s so so so good omg

💌Jamil Viper + Prompt #1 (“It feels… good to be around you.”)

The simple admission catches you both offguard, spills out into the dim silence of Jamil’s bedroom like moonlight.

You look up from your lap to meet his gaze in the mirror. He’s partway through fixing your hair into two braids, with the first completed one resting over your left shoulder. You can faintly detect the lingering fragrance of the hair oil that he applied beforehand. 

“I’m sorry?” Your pulse thrums erratic in your ribcage.

He clears his throat, but it does little to diminish the embarrassment in his voice. “Please forget I said that.” 

“No, no I didn’t mean to—I like being around you too…!” You turn to face him properly but he puts a stop to that action with a free hand planted atop your head, keeping your gaze pointed towards the mirror.

“Let—let me finish first.”

“...okay.” And you keep your head still, your nerves hyperaware of his touch and each gentle tug as he continues the braid.

“I didn’t mean to let that slip out, but I’ve been thinking about…this for a while now.”

Of course, there wasn’t any denying the fact that the two of you were in some kind of relationship, something deeper than friends but not as exclusive as boyfriend and girlfriend. Nevermind marriage, that was completely out of the question. Yet even something as amorphous as soulmates has crossed your mind more than once.

“And I realized that this hasn’t—that I haven’t—been fair to you. Especially if I keep being careless.”

Maybe that was part of the problem, that until this point, the both of you were careful not to disturb what you’d kept unspoken. That you merely followed his lead, folding yourself neatly along the boundaries that guided his life. That you left yourselves susceptible to moments of sudden openness.

“So you don’t have to keep playing along, I’ll understand.”

With a final twist of the hair band, his fingertips brush against your shoulders before pulling away.

Before he moves out of reach, your hand closes around his. “Jamil. ”

His expression is one of practiced calmness, but there’s a tinge of vulnerability in his irises that tears at you. “Yes?”

“Never put words into my mouth again.” And you grab him by the front of his shirt to pull him in for a kiss to punctuate that statement. If he got the wrong idea from that, well.

a/n: aaaaa ur too kind lili 🤧💕💕don't worry, ur doing absolutely gucci!! (belated) happy valentines!! thanks for sending in a request ahahahaha i think i got a little bit carried away with this one oops, either way i hope u enjoyed reading this💕💕

#aka jamil viper would it kill u to stop catastrophizing for 0.5 seconds #jamil accepting rejection as a contingency plan THIS GUYYYYY I SWEARRRRR #this drabble was jamil basically going: i like u oops wait that was too honest bye #and reader going: u fucking dumbass i like u too stop running #dellet-writings #dellet-asks #just-a-little-silly #jamil viper x reader #fem!reader #twst x reader #jamil viper #twisted wonderland x reader

[misc-obeyme]

This may be a little bit of a harder ask, but I saw this post (https://www.tumblr.com/l3viat8an/727484739449143297/mc-i-should-warn-you-im-not-very-good-at?source=share) the other day, which made me think— could I request something with Solomon and tickling for flufftober? It seems really cute haha

if you’d like a scenario or a little more to work with, please feel free to lmk and I’ll send another (probably anon lol) ask in!

Hi there, anon!

I fear my love for Solomon is probably rather evident in this one lol. I really enjoy writing for him. Anyway, as we discussed in your other asks, I included MC enjoying being tickled, but not necessarily wanting to tickle others. And of course I wrote it for a fem!MC! Hopefully it turned out okay!

Thank you for submitting a prompt!

FLUFFTOBER 2023

fem!MC x Solomon

Warnings: none!

There were a lot of things that Solomon loved about you, but he found he could never quite get enough of hearing you laugh. It sounded like a bright waterfall full of music, cascading melodies accompanied by your bright smile.

Most of the time he was just content to observe you. You were so easy with your laugh, letting it bubble out from you simply by being with the people you cared about. Solomon could just watch you as you interacted with demons and angels, the way you so effortlessly engaged with them, laughing happily in their presence.

You certainly didn't hold back when you were talking to him either. Most of the time, all he needed to do was say some witty remark and he would be rewarded with that sweet sound.

But there were times when Solomon just could not help himself. Times when you weren't quite paying attention, completely unsuspecting, and it was just too easy.

And there was something a little bit different about the way you laughed when he tickled you. It was the same beautiful sound, but with a tinge of embarrassment, even a little bit of protest.

The first time he had done it, he had been trying to get you to tell him a secret he knew you were keeping. The attempt was a success, as you finally caved and told him what it was. You looked so guilty about having revealed it that he had offered to let you tickle him back. Solomon noted the way your demeanor instantly changed. You became shy, pulling back your hands and looking away.

When Solomon pressed you a little further, you admitted to him that tickling others made you uncomfortable. Solomon was overcome by how cute you were, bashfully telling him how you didn't like to tickle other people and then reassuring him in the same breath that you didn't mind being tickled.

Solomon wasn't sure he believed you at first. It seemed unlikely that you were really okay with it. He suspected you were only saying that so he wouldn't feel bad.

Until you very deliberately tried to get him to do it again. You started casually mentioning that you had a secret and then pretending you didn't mean to say anything about it. You even made a joke about him tickling it out of you.

Solomon was a smart man. He knew what you were trying to do. And when he finally gave in, your secret was that you didn't have a secret at all. He already knew that, of course, but hearing you say it was almost sweeter than the laugh you said it through.

Ever since then, Solomon didn't stop himself from tickling you if he saw the chance. He didn't do it all the time, usually saving it for when he really needed to hear that special laugh.

It was a quiet day in Cocytus Hall. You had been back from the House of Lamentation for a little while already. You were quiet at dinner, but it was subtle. Solomon could barely tell, but he still knew that you were feeling a little down.

He had gone to his own room, removing his cloak and preparing to do some reading, but he couldn't stop thinking about the look in your eyes. How your smile didn't quite brighten them, like it was a show you were putting on for him.

Solomon sighed and left his room, going down the hall to yours. The door was open a bit and he stuck his head in to see if you were there.

You were standing with your back to the door, looking out the window. Your hands were hanging at your sides, subconsciously tugging on the fabric of your dress. He could see your somber reflection in the window's glass.

Solomon snuck up behind you, making enough noise at the last second that you would be aware that he was there. He circled his arms around your waist, tickling at your stomach and sides.

The sound of your musical laugh greeted him and he smiled into your hair, even as you squirmed in his grip.

You protested halfheartedly as you managed to turn yourself around in his arms. You slapped lightly at his chest and leaned your head against him as he showed you no mercy, your laughter uncontrollable.

"Stop, stop!" you cried, pushing away enough to practically double over. "I can't breathe!"

Solomon was laughing now, too. He gave you a minute to catch your breath, even stepping away to make you think he was retreating for good.

You took a few steps toward him, ready to start pretending like you were offended when he moved in again.

You twisted and tried to get away, letting out a little yelp of surprise. You managed to trip over your own feet and then you really were grasping onto him.

Instead of keeping yourself upright by grabbing Solomon's arm, you only succeeded in pulling him down with you as you fell backward on your bed.

"Woah!" Solomon yelled as he fell, managing to stop himself from crushing you by putting both hands on either side of your head.

Solomon looked down at you, eyes bright, cheeks flushed, breathing heavily. He reached out to run his fingertips along your lips.

"What was that about?" you asked. "I don't have any secrets."

Solomon smiled at you. "It's hard to tell because you're so beautiful when you smile, it dazzles everybody. But I still know when you're having a bad day, MC."

You huffed a little. "You were trying to cheer me up."

"Did it work?" he asked with a smirk.

You laughed again, soft and short and lilting. "Yeah," you said, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. "It did."

Solomon leaned down to kiss you. He was satisfied. At least for now, he had managed to tickle away the sad look that had been lingering in your eyes.

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me flufftober #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc #om solomon #solomon obey me #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #misc flufftober 2023 #misc writes

[pebbleswritessometimes]

Hi!! Since everyone is sending in fluffy prompts, let’s change it up and add some angst *evil laugh* but not so much cos I can’t handle it. Can I request a Larissa x teacher!reader where they both have a crush on one another but they’re friends so no one says anything. They’re always together on their free time but lately, since a new teacher transferred, it seems like Larissa is always with them (because the teacher has a crush but Larissa is just helping them get settled). R isn’t really the type to get jealous so they’re just sad and pulls away from Larissa, opting to spend time with another teacher (in a besties way) but it makes Larissa jealous so they confront reader and they finally end up telling each other how they feel. This was long. I’m sorry. Thanks though!

Misunderstanding

Larissa weems x reader

Sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted ❤️ not proof read

Fluffy/angst/not really angst :)

Gods, you loved her. Yes, of course she was your friend, maybe even your best, but it was so much more than that. What you would do just to hold her in a much more vulnerable way. To hold her face and be the one to reassure her, but the risk was too big. You’d be damned if you lost her simply because you couldn’t contain your feelings.

You two were set to meet in her office for your usual glass of wine in front of the fireplace. Typically, you’d ramble about your day, random mischief that your students would get up to and she’d tell you all about the new sponsors, events, or ideas for the school. Today though.. today, she mentioned a new hire in the administrations office. She went on about how bubbly her character was and how much of an addition she presumed she would be. She’s just being an enthusiastic boss, so why are you jealous? “Goodness, honestly! She couldn’t have arrived at a more appropriate time,” Larissa chuckled as she began to down the remainder of her glass. “I’m sure! She seems like she’s quite the woman, huh?” You forced out a strained smile. You two finished your glasses and ended the night in a tipsy, silly haze.

Finally the weekend arrived. Usually, you would spend your Saturdays enjoying the the scenery that the academy provided, or you’d go with Larissa to the Cafe for a cup of tea. Greeting colleagues, you waltzed your way to the courtyard. “Morning, Rissa!” You spoke. Looking beautiful as ever, she grinned, “Good morning, Miss Y/L/N. How are you doing? This is our new hire, Miss Green,” turning back to the shorter woman. Miss Green waved as you spoke, “I- uh. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Green,” you attempted to conceal the confusion in your tone. You weren’t sure why she referred to you as if you two were still working. “I wanted to see if you’d like to come get some tea with me like we usually do,” rocking back and forth on your heels, you looked up at her. You loved the lines that formed when she smiled down at you. It was as if an artist carefully put a pencil to her features. Shading her lips and defining the apples of her cheeks.

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss Y/L/N, Miss Green and I are going to take a trip around Jericho,” she spoke with a smile. You couldn’t help the furrowing of your eyebrows, she had always loved going to the town with you. Even when she went with others, she always asked you to join. “Oh…okay. Hm well, I guess I’ll see you later… Miss Weems?” Unsure about how to address her. You politely said bye to the new woman, spun around and headed back in, opting to relax in the library for a little instead. “Haven’t read this one yet,” you mumbled to yourself, picking up a small novel. “Hey, Stranger!” Shooting backwards at the sudden voice, you tumbled into a bookshelf. “Oh my god! Don’t do that! You scared me,” clutching your necklace in an attempt to steady your breath. “Pfft, sorry! I didn’t mean to, really. What’re you doing in here? I thought you were going to the cafe with Larissa,” Marilyn bent down to pick up some of the fallen books.

Sighing, you told her about how she said she was going out with the your new colleague. “I don’t know, it was just weird. I understand she’s busy sometimes and her life doesn’t revolve around me, but..she just,” unable to find your words. Marylin decided she was on a mission to make you smile. She went through jokes, comparing books, and even made a poor attempt at a portrait of you. It may have looked more like a sheep who put on a milfs business suit, but the heart was there.

What felt like minutes turned into hours of laughter and bonding between two good friends. Unbeknownst to you, Larissa and Miss Green had arrived back at Nevermore a couple hours ago. Miss Green retired to her quarters early and Larissa spent the rest of the afternoon looking for you. She wanted to tell you all about her trip with Miss Green. She knocked at your door, checked in your study, and wondered around the courtyard. She even glanced into her office to see if you were there waiting for her. “Where the hell is this woman?” She thought to herself. Suddenly, just as she was walking past the library, she heard an eruption of laughter. One that was unmistakable to her. It was a laughter that she could play in her mind like the bumps in an old music box.

“And she did! She actually went up to this poor guy and made him dance with her,” Marilyn spoke through broken laughter. With both of you wheezing, you didn’t notice the tall figure whose presence filled the empty corner in the library. You were practically folded into yourself, tears making their way down your cheeks. “Sounds like you two have had quite the time today,” There was a tinge of disdain in her voice. “Larissa! Hello! I heard you went with the new girl to visit Jericho,” Marylin smirked as she leaned and pushed against her knees to stand. “Ah. Yes, that we did,” clenching her jaw as she closed the distance between you three. “How was it? Have a good time?” She spoke as she packed her two chosen novels into her bag. “Yes, it was lovely. Good weather,” giving a short response, grabbing your book from the table and examining the cover. Marylin had bid adieu to you both and gave you a look as she exited the library.

Pulling your mouth into a thin line, you bit the bullet and spoke first, “Im glad you had a good day.”

“Thank you. Um so..you and Marylin seem to be pretty close,” her face stuck in a constant furrow. Silence took over the room again. Larissa sat down next to you on the seat, fiddling with her fingers. “What is it about her?” She questioned. “What?” Squinting at her question, you didn’t understand what she was talking about. “Marylin. I was looking for you for a while, only to find you in here with her. You’ve never been one to stay inside on Saturdays. And the way you laughed, that was your real, full laugh and it seemed effortless for her to make you-“ her rambling came to a halt as she felt your hand grab hers. Offering her a soft smile, you reminded her to take a breath. “Well..I- earlier today, when I spoke to you?” waiting for her acknowledgment. She nodded. “You turned down tea with me, which is okay, you know. I know I can’t have you all the time, but then you referred to me as Miss Y/L/N. I was just a little hurt and it made me sad so I decided maybe I’d just gather myself here. Marylin scared me,” chuckling at the memory, “I ended up bumping into a shelf and knocking down a few books. We’ve been here since.”

“I made you sad? How did I-“ stopping to think. You could’ve melted with the way she looked at you, holding your hands. Taking a deep inhale, “You referred to me very professionally. Normally that’s fine, when we’re working, but we usually spend most of our time together. I felt as if maybe you didn’t want Miss Green to know that..I don’t know, I guess I thought maybe you were embarrassed of having me as a friend or maybe you saw something in her and didn’t want her to think that we were involved? Like romantically? So.. I- I came here.”

You heard her sigh, feeling her hand come up to hold your face. Leaning into her touch, you closed your eyes. “Look at me. Y/N, please,” She swept her thumb across your cheek. “I would never be embarrassed of you and I’m sorry that I made you feel negatively. It was never my intention, I promise. And as for being interested in Miss Green.. she’s lovely and her work ethic is phenomenal, but if there’s anyone that I’d have a desire to be with, it’s you,” a blush creeping upon her features at her admission. Grabbing her face, you nearly lost yourself in her eyes, looking for an ounce of malicious intent or a lie. You found nothing but truth, nothing but love as she committed your every blink to memory. Before for you knew it, your mouth was on hers. She tasted like the strawberry chapstick she faithfully put on over her signature red shade. Moving her hand to the back of your neck, she deepened the kiss. You two would’ve been there for hours if you hadn’t pulled away, swollen-lipped, at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Took you two long enough,” Marylin must’ve forgotten something in the library. She chuckled as she made her way back out of the door. Both of you busting out in laughter.

You and Larissa decided to head to her office for your usual glass of wine, giddy like two teenagers who just had their first kiss.

Turns out you got to hold her the way you wanted to, after all.

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principal larissa weems #principal weems #wednesday weems #larissa x reader #weems #lucifer morningstar (the sandman) #wednesday 2022 #Larissa imagine

[intothegenshinworld]

I have a habit that I learned from my mother where if anyone’s lounging next to me with their bare legs, I’ll instinctually start massaging it.

Of course, it only happens with my friends and family. If I ever did it to a stranger I would die @.@

Anyways, acolytes’ reaction xD

Hey hey! I chose a few characters I personally liked to write about, but feel free to send in another ask if I missed the characters you wanted! I also changed the prompt here and there; it’s basically ‘’an unexpected massage’’, hope it’s still alright :)

Note: not proofread, wanted to post it tho

It had been a while since you first arrived on Teyvat. Everything is a lot more peaceful and you're able to enjoy your days with relatively little stress. 

One of the only chores you needed to do included paperwork. You have an office of your own where you do most of your work, usually with the help of some acolytes. Generally, you'd be at your desk, but today was a couch day. So as one does, you plopped down and patted the seat next to you

Venti is constantly testing how far you'd let him go. He'd hug you, attempt to cuddle up to you, he even tried to sneak in a kiss! So when he'd lounge himself onto the couch it's no surprise that he'd move his legs into your lap. Venti thought you were too occupied with your 'stupid paperwork', so he assumed something like this would bring your attention back to him. He'd be surprised when you'd continue to read the paperwork while your free hand starts to gently massage his leg. His shock passes quickly, and suddenly he doesn’t seem to hate the paperwork as much as before. When you notice that his constant nagging stopped, you look up; Venti isn't usually silent. When he throws a cheeky smile your way, you realise the situation you brought yourself in and get flustered real quick. 'Don't worry your Grace! I'll return the favor any time, ehe!'

Zhongli has no trouble helping you. He liked spending his time with you and felt happy whenever he could aid you in these tasks. His voice was a bonus for you as well, and you always listen carefully when he points out the important parts on the papers. His figure is close to yours and you’d been leaning closer to get a good look at the papers in his hand. Unknowingly to you, you had grasped his free hand in yours and had started to gently massage it. Believe me, he didn’t want you to stop but it was hard to point out things on the paper without a hand. He'd bring the situation to your attention and would give a deep chuckle when he'd see you get flustered. After he further explained the paperwork, he decided to massage your shoulders instead. Perhaps some closer contact would help your focus? 'Do you wish to remove my gloves, Your Grace?'

You were in Mondstadt for the upcoming weeks and decided to visit Diluc at the Dawn Winery. There had been enough time for you to visit the city and other places, but the endless workload still chased you. After procrastinating for a good while, you decided that Diluc could be your motivator! If he’s working, you might feel obligated to work as well! At least, that was the idea. At one point during your stay in his office you invited him to sit on the couch with you. Unfortunately, from that moment forward it’s Diluc that’s unable to work. The moment you moved closer to his figure,- his brain stopped working. He could feel his leg touching yours, -and why did you have to place your hand on his leg to massage him? He was certain you could hear his heartbeat. Are you doing this on purpose? It’s only when you remove your hand after finishing your paperwork that he regains the ability to think. ‘Hey Diluc, you’re not procrastinating right?’ You tease him. He huffs in response and returns his focus on his work, hopefully then you wouldn’t see his face. ‘I’d never.’

#Genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin isekai #genshin impact #sagau #sagau isekai #venti #venti x reader #venti x y/n #genshin venti #sagau venti #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x y/n #genshin zhongli #sagau zhongli #diluc #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #sagau diluc