#Pillow Tabby shoulder bag

[ollywears]

Olly Alexander wearing a Coach S/S 2021 Pillow Tabby shoulder bag outside Global Radio in London (January 19, 2022).

#Olly Alexander #Years and Years #Years & Years #style #it's a sin #Night Call #Sweet Talker #Sooner or Later #starstruck #hallucination #crave #100% Pure Love #bag #purse #shoulder bag #coach #Pillow Tabby shoulder bag #london #Global Radio #coach s/s 2021

[luveline]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary You're having trouble sleeping and pot seems like the only solution. Good thing your dealer, Eddie Munson, knows of another method that he's willing to to teach you. You get more than you bargained for when he tells you what he gets off to every night - you. [8.8k]

warnings 18+ only smut, fem!reader, eddie teaches you how to masturbate, p in v sex, light praise kink, mutual pining/lusting, lots of kissing, dirty talk, weed ment, aftercare, they are not so secretly infatuated with one another, eddie is a soft dork but also dirty <3 r implied as dressing very femininely

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie kneels outside his trailer. 

You stop at the lip of the grass and wonder what he's doing. His back is to you, covered by a band shirt familiar even from this angle and riddled with rips and moth holes. You're about to call out to him when he speaks. 

"You're hot, huh, sweetheart?" Softer than you've ever heard him. "Why don't you go inside? Escape the heat, yeah?"

You approach slowly, footfall smothered by the lush green underfoot. He's scratching behind the ears of a tabby cat. 

"It's so hot out! The sun's gonna cook you," he says, whisper-shouting.

Like the tabby can understand what he's saying it stands, stretches tall and then slinks off into the trailer. "Good girl," Eddie says, standing up. 

"Are you collecting strays?" you ask lightly. 

He turns to you, surprised but not scared. "Don't worry, you're still my favourite." 

Good girl. His words ring loud between both ears. "I'm not a stray." 

"Uh-huh. What's my shy girl want today?" You spin on your heel and Eddie starts laughing. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Come on, you'll like what I have!" 

"You know I can't talk to you when you get like this," you tell him, pouting from over your shoulder. 

He pushes a mess of black curls behind his ear and beckons you forward. "Come on," he says, sing-song. "Let daddy set you up."

"Jesus Christ," you mutter, following Eddie into his house unhappily. 

You hate when he gets in this mood, not because he's ever really made you uncomfortable, but because you like to be teased, and he knows it. Or he likes watching you squirm. Either way, it's dangerous territory. 

"How much did you want?" he asks. 

The cool inside of his trailer is a blessing. You hold your naked arms away from your skin and try to take a deep breath of cool air. "I have thirty dollars. So… however much that is." 

"Babe, what the fuck do you want so much for?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder at you incredulously. 

You follow him into his room. "Do you not have it?" you ask, tracing posters you've seen upwards of ten times by now. Eddie's a good dealer – reliable, sweet, and prone to freebies without any pervy requests in place. 

He once swapped you an eighth for a cheap charm bracelet. He wears it now, the silver delicate and entirely too sweet for his metalhead appearance. It looks good on him, anyhow. 

He pulls open the usual lunchbox you hadn't noticed sitting on one of his amps and pulls out more pot than you've ever seen at one time. "Don't I?" 

"Woah."

"Uh-huh. Ern't she preddy?" he asks in a drawing southern accent. 

You hold out your hands and he lets you take it. When you open the zip lock bag, the smell isn't awful. The buds are thick with green fuzz, and your eyes water. 

You pass it back to him. "How much can I have for thirty?" 

"For you? Half." 

"Don't do that, Eddie. Gimme what you'd give anyone else." 

"But you're not anyone else, babe. You're my favourite customer." 

"I'm gonna put you out of business," you say, lightly chiding. "Can I sit down?" 

He hums and nods and you sit cross legged at the top of his bed. His bed sheets are pushed away and the space is cold. His pillow under your hand is colder. 

Eddie doesn't bother weighing it. You roll your eyes at him but also feel amazingly happy, because it's a lot of pot for not a lot of money, because his favouritism speaks for what you hope might be a small crush. Still, when he passes you the new bag you feel guilty. 

"Eddie, I can't take that. I know that's more than thirty." 

His eyebrows jump. "I don't care. What's the point in doing this if I can't give pretty girls a little something extra?" 

"I don't know. To make money?" 

He holds out the bag. You don't take it. "Fine," he says, sighing.

"Thank you." You watch him fish three or four bigger buds out of the bag. He presents you with a much more reasonable amount, his hands stained with the smell. "Thank you," you say again.

"Yeah. Wanna stay and watch a movie?" 

You've known Eddie since middle school. Classmates, not really friends, not not friends, though ever since you've started buying a small kinship has blossomed between you. 

"What movie?" 

"Whatever you want." 

You nibble the inside of your lip. "You'll roll up for me?" 

"Sure will." 

So you end up on Eddie's couch with the tabby cat that isn't his purring heavily on your lap as he rolls a couple of joints for you. You won't smoke anything until tonight so Eddie drops them into your newly acquired ziplock bag with papers and the leftover bud. 

He sniffs. "So, you're not sleeping?" he asks knowingly, straightening out with a groan and disappearing out of view into the kitchenette. You're a total overthinker. Pot helps you calm down.

"I'm sleeping." 

"After toking up." 

"There's…" You scratch the vibrating cat behind its ears, frowning to yourself. "Worse things to do." 

"Better ones, though. Hey, do you want a drink?" 

You say no and he brings you a glass of water anyways. His hands smell strongly of hand soap and faintly of weed as he passes it to you. You take it carefully, wary of disturbing your cuddle partner. 

"Like what?" you ask.

"Cranking one out, for starters." 

You wince, afraid to bring the lip of the glass to your mouth in case you choke on it. "Anything else?"

"Running?" Eddie suggests, sitting with you but leaving a more than comfortable gap between your legs.

"Not my thing," you murmur. 

It's weird, but anything above murmuring feels like shouting in the calm of his home. The movie plays on the TV and the cat purs, Eddie spreads his legs out and slouches into the cushions, his face surrounded by dark hair. He smiles at you like he always does, amicable if slightly flirty. 

"Maybe pot is your only option," he says mournfully. He pulls a lock of hair in front of his face and his eyebrows pinch together. "Make sure you brush your teeth after though. Or you'll get bad teeth."

"Bad teeth?" 

"Smoking ruins your pearls." 

You put down your glass of water and weave your fingers into the cat's rough fur. Eddie is really nice. Really really nice. And he probably likes you, so… what's the worst that could happen, by asking? 

I'm only asking, you decide. 

"Eddie," you say softly, disrupting a big tobacco rant that he'd started. "What- when you say cranking one out, that's-" 

"You know." He holds his hand above his crotch and squeezes the air. You feel a terrible heat start to collect in your abdomen. "Five to one? Uh- Nulling the void?" He grasps for words at your lost expression. "Making soup?" 

His voice goes high. You think he's as embarrassed as you are, and you're not gonna ask again. You giggle. "Oh, right." 

He drops his hand heavy against the seat of his pants and leans back. "Crank one out and sleep like a log." 

"That works for you?" you ask tentatively. 

"Every night." 

You sink down into the couch and hide your face in cat fur. Eddie starts asking about how your job is, a genuine, earnest interest that further cements your next decision. You clear your throat. 

"Eddie, can I ask you something?" He grins and waves his hand. "When you," you wince, "'make soup', do you just- how do you…" You slink down so far you're almost falling off of the couch. "How do you make yourself-" You gesture to your pelvis and then screw your hand into a fist, self-conscious.

He blinks. "Finish?" 

You look at the chain around his neck rather than his face. "Yeah." 

"Are you asking me because you want to know how I do it, or because you don't know how to do it to yourself?" 

You rub your cheek with your shoulder. "The second option." 

"Shit," he mutters. 

"Sorry, you don't have to- I just thought-" 

Eddie sits up. He looks more serious than he had before but not any less patient, elbows braced on his knees and head propped up in his hand. He parts his fingers over his lips. 

"You don't know how?" he asks. 

"I must've missed that lesson in sex ed," you try to joke. It comes out awkward. Eddie laughs anyways, a huff of breath. 

"Lucky you, I've sat through sex ed three times." He grins brilliantly, but his joking tone softens when he sees your hesitant expression. "If you wanna know, I'm happy to tell you." 

"Are you sure?"

"We're friends, right? What are friends for?" You don't miss the sarcastic twist to his words or his ironic smile. 

Friends like you and Eddie likely aren't meant to be giving one another lessons on masturbation. But really, he's the only person you know who you could ask and wouldn't feel totally looked down on. Eddie's nice to his core, but better – he doesn't judge. 

You struggle to know what to ask. 

The cat chooses this moment to wake and jump off of you, strutting out of the trailer's open door and back into the sunlight without so much as a grateful look back. 

And now you're alone with him. 

"How's your anatomy?" he asks. You shake your head slowly. "You know, grade wise? Are we passing? B? B-? C?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Munson." 

"Do you know what's what?" he asks concisely.

You sit up and press your knees together, suddenly very aware of your 'anatomy'. "I think so." 

He purses his lips for a few seconds before shrugging. "Alright. We can work with that." Eddie pushes his cheek into the couch and looks at your face unflinching as he says, "You know what your clit is?" 

You cringe. Full body. 

Eddie shrugs. "What? That's what it's called. You don't have to be embarrassed about it." 

"I know what it is." 

"And you can't make yourself-" 

"No." 

He doesn't miss your frustration. "Hey, hey, it's fine. Some people think that it's, like, a magic on-button, but it's not. There's a whole process." 

"How do you know?" you ask genuinely. 

His answering smile is wolfish. "I'm in a band, babe. Fucking a guitarist is like, a bucket list thing or some shit. Girls will tell you exactly what they want if you're willing to listen." 

Something about his knowing look has your heart skipping a beat. Maybe two. He pushes his hand across the couch and you're not sure if it's on purpose or accident, only that he's leaning in, a small smile on his face. 

"And I'm a damn good listener." 

You meet his eyes and know what he's offering. He waits, ring heavy fingers splayed wide in the space between you. It's the sight of them – thick, long and adorned in string-wrought calluses – that tips you over the edge. 

He's already pulling back with a reassuring smile on his face, lips parted to likely say something too nice when you interrupt him. 

"Will you teach me?" you ask quietly. 

A split-second of surprise is quickly overtaken by enthusiasm. "You're not high, are you?" 

"No." 

He gets up to close the door and starts for his room. You linger on the couch uselessly and he doubles back, hand on the wall. "Are you coming?" 

The noise from the TV fades as you walk down the hall and into his room. Your socked foot nudges into a tower of books close to the door and you reach out to steady them. Eddie pulls the sheets back into place and flicks on the lamp. He pauses by the stereo before turning that on, too. 

A song you don't recognise starts to play. Eddie climbs up onto his bed and stands there for a second, suddenly very tall. "You wanna take off your jacket?"

"It's a cardigan." You peel the thin white cotton off of your shoulders and shift from foot to foot, unsure of yourself. 

Eddie settles on his knees, pulls off his rings. "It's pretty. Come here," he says, holding out his arms. 

You slide onto the bed cautiously, naked calves rubbing against the sheets. You feel as though every sense has been dialled to eleven; you're thinking about every brush of fabric, every small sound that they make. 

Eddie takes one of your hands and you sit with one leg crossed and the other hanging off the edge of the bed, surprised at his soft touch. He soothes your hand and brings it to his lap, eyes on your now-bared shoulders. 

"You dress real pretty." He says it with his usual dramatics, though there's enough sincerity there to make you smile. 

You look down at your delicate clothes thoughtfully. "You think so?" 

"Mh-hm. It suits you," he says as he drums his thumbs against the back of your hand. 

He pushes one palm up the length of your arm and pulls it towards him at the same time. You've never been touched like this before and you want it bad, shuffling towards him with a shameful speed. He takes it in stride, hand bumping up the hill of your shoulder. His index finger slides under the skinny strap of your top and tugs at it playfully. 

"You look sweet. Really sweet," he says, his voice more hushed than before. His eyes drop to your thighs. "You'll have to take those off, though."

"My shirt too?" you ask weakly, eyebrows pinched up at the starts. 

"Not if you don't want to." You hesitate. He takes your thigh into a big hand and gives you a small shake. "It's okay. Take your time. Or, if you changed your mind, that's totally cool." 

"No, I haven't," you deny, voice trembling with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. You kick your legs out in front of you one at a time and ease your shorts over the slopes of your thighs and calves, pushing them off of his bed with your feet. 

“If you change your mind at any point-“

“I’ll tell you,” you say, nodding as you pull your knees together. 

Eddie manoeuvres so he’s close, twisted toward you with his hand braced by your thigh. The cold metal of the charm bracelet you'd swapped him bites into your skin. If you leaned back and he leaned forward, he could kiss you. You think maybe he has the same idea as his eyes dart to your lips. 

They linger. 

He blinks and it’s gone. 

“I’m gonna rub your leg,” he says quietly, “and when I get to the inside, I’m gonna touch you. Okay?”

As he says it, his hand moves onto your thigh. Down to your knee.

Slowly, so slowly, back up. His fingers caress the inside of your thigh. He pauses. 

“‘Kay,” you whisper. 

His fingers flex over your flesh as he draws in. Then, like a shock, his fingertips press to your underwear. 

“I’m not surprised,” he says steadily, fingers brushing over your cunt, ghosting but never truly touching where you want him to. 

“By what?” 

“That you wear such cute panties.” He strokes the hem with the tip of his finger and you hold your breath as he slides it under the elastic, running the fabric over his digit gently. “S’exactly the kind of thing I pictured you wearing.”

“You’ve pictured them?” 

He looks up from his teasing and your panties snap into place. You gasp on instinct and his eyes narrow, his lashes kissing in the corners. “Does that bother you?” he murmurs. 

You shake your head. His lips quirk up, a smugness that makes your heart race ever faster. 

"Do you do anything like this with yourself?" he asks. 

"I'm never this nice." 

"That's a crime," he says, and he laughs loud, momentarily shattering the distilled atmosphere that had settled over you both. "Thighs like these and you don't touch them?"

"Is that what you do?" you ask, insecure.

"No, but it's different. I don't need to get warmed up like you do." 

"Warmed up?" you whisper. Having to ask these questions feels so embarrassing. 

Eddie being so soft about it makes it easier. "Relaxed," he whispers in turn, laughing towards the end.

His thumb rubs the elastic of your underwear and drifts slowly inward until he's pushing over your folds. You gasp and it's slightly startled, sounding too close to panic for Eddie, who's hand flinches away. 

"Didn't like that?" he asks. 

You rush, "It's okay. Surprised." 

One big hand holds your thigh, the other strokes your cunt. He's a little firmer now, pushing the breadth of his thumb over your panties until he touches something very sensitive. "Here?" He pushes up a little higher and your breath catches. He makes an almost inaudible cooing sound and flattens his hand, rubbing the length of your cunt without finesse. It feels good anyway. It surprises you how much you like it. 

He pinches your panties.

"Ready to take them off?" he asks. 

"Yeah." 

You lift your hips and peel your underwear down, folding your legs to pull them off of your ankles. You clutch them in your hand, unsure. 

Eddie sits back and pulls you towards him. You let him manhandle you with a small gasp, his hands pressing into the soft of your tummy. You can't see his face anymore. 

"Alright," he murmurs, pulling your thigh over his lap and spreading you wide. His voice is loud in your ear because of his proximity, and you resist the temptation to turn your face to his.

"Let's just-" he works your underwear out of your hand and tosses them aside. 

His hand lands on your knee and moves down fast. 

You lean back heavily into his chest with your hands pulled to your sternum. 

"Eddie," you say, "what do I do?" 

He hums. "Touch yourself." 

You seize up and he's quick to soothe, fingers closing around the crook of your elbow.

"Hey, I'm gonna show you. I'm gonna show you," he repeats. He pulls at the lip of your cunt and spreads you open, groaning softly. You wouldn't hear it if his lips weren't so close to your face. "How'd you have a cunt this sweet and never touch it? I mean, fuck." 

His fingertips whisper past your pubic hair like he's going to say something more, but he only asks, "Hand?" 

You put your hand into his, the back to his palm. 

He sets it to your thigh. "Do what I did before, okay? Slowly…" He drags your hand up and down the length of your thigh. 

Your heart is racing. Every time you crawl close to your cunt the burning longing to be touched, to touch yourself, and to have him touch you intensifies. 

Eventually he pulls your hand to your clit. "You're so sensitive. Is it always this bad?" he asks sympathetically when you jump, tickled at the feelin. 

"I haven't tried in a while." 

"Oh, I see." Eddie encourages you to push your fingertip into the bead of your clit, drawing slow circles. "Poor baby. Just desperate to have someone take care of you." His voice is so low, so ridiculously soft, you find yourself sinking into his hold. He squeezes the crook of your elbow with one hand, the other still guiding your ministrations. You bite your lip at the sensation that's begun, the tiny spark of pleasure.

"Here, let me-" He lifts your hand away from your clit and you whine involuntarily. "Shh, sweetheart, I'm only gonna give you something to work with." 

You turn your head to him and watch as his mouth opens. He sucks the very tip of your finger between his lips, the heat of his tongue a momentary flash. When he pulls it back, your finger shines with his spit. 

Your eyes are half-lidded, watching through the crush of your lashes as he presses it back to your clit. "How's that? S'that better?" he asks, crooning. His tone sports an underlying mockery, a light-hearted teasing that's slowly turning intense. 

It is better. It's different. Your fingertip searches for purchase against the slick skin and struggles to find it, the wetness allowing for freer, faster movement. 

You push a second finger against the first. 

Eddie stops helping. You pause, confused. 

"No, you got it, sweetheart. You keep going," he reassures, grabbing a hold of your thigh again. He teases the dough there, never cruel but maybe close, fat moulding under his fingers as he squeezes. 

Your breathing builds with pleasure. Still, it's hot enough; there's no sign of an oncoming climax, no tightening coil in your tummy. You huff with exertion and frustration. "Eddie, it's not working." 

"I'm not done." He sounds almost stern. Your stomach flips. "You have to think about what you want." 

"What I want?" 

"What turns you on." 

You think of his hands and their rings. His happy trail. 

His voice. Good girl. 

You slam your eyes shut.

Eddie gives you another mean squeeze. "What do you think about, when you-" 

You don't let him finish. "What do you think about?" you ask, too loud. 

He stills. His nose pushes into your shoulder, his hair tickling your skin as he asks, "Are you sure you wanna know?"

Your breath catches. Your fingers stutter where they work into your clit and Eddie starts you right back up again. His lips brush your shoulder. 

"Yes," you say, gasping as pleasure like little shocks of heat shoot to your core. 

The hand at your elbow starts to rove, tickling your arm as he strokes downwards. "You first," he murmurs, teasing your wrist. You swear you can feel his smile against your shoulder. 

You breathe in through your nose. "Uh, I think of- of somebody…" You try, but you just can't say it. 

Eddie's fingers push down your crease. Stop right before your entrance. "Is this okay?" 

"Yeah." 

"Mmm…" He circles your entrance. "Now what does a pretty girl like you think of when she's touching herself?" You don't think he wants an answer. His middle finger brushes across the slick well and pushes in. You squirm and he holds you in place. 

There's something very hard digging into your spine. 

"Something sweet as you… Let me guess. Boy next door comes around to mow the lawn, you invite him in for a drink, one thing comes to another-" He pushes his finger in deeper. "And he's fucking you.

"That sound about right?" 

You shake your head. His own perks up where it rests on your shoulder. "No? Huh." 

Your circles have grown slow and staggered, distracted by his touch as he eases his ring finger in beside his middle. "Something more romantic? Wedding night, love of your life. Guy that's gonna treat you like a diamond. Way a girl like you deserves." He pushes in, stretches them out. You moan as he curls them, as his arm works back and forth. "Gives it to you gentle." His movements slow to match.

And sure, that sounds nice. But it's not what you think about. 

"No," you manage to get out through shallow breaths. 

"No? You don't want it gentle?" 

"Not- not all the time." 

"How about right now?"

"Please." 

Slowly, slowly, the shape of Eddie's hard cock against your back starts to move in time with the thrusts of his hand. He pushes in deep, fingers searching emphatically for the sweet spot, the thing that's gonna make you- 

"Fuck," you whimper. 

His cock jumps. You feel it. 

"You keep rubbing that pretty little clit of yours, sweetheart." 

You do as he asks. You're desperate enough now that you imagine you'd do most anything he says, your climax a tangible, physical possibility. Your tummy feels heavy and aching with want, worse when he probes deeply and marks your sweet spot again. His lips press to your shoulder, soft enough that you worry you're imagining it. 

"You see what I'm doing here? See what fingers I'm using?" he asks. You open your eyes reluctantly. His wrist turns. You watch his fingers sink into the gummy heat of your cunt. "Tight little hole's just pulling me in, fucking clinging to me, baby, she's greedy." 

You gasp, a hiccup of scandalised sound. 

"Want you to try, okay? You gonna do that for me?" 

"Yeah, Eddie." 

"Good girl." You moan, you don't mean to, but he's fucking into your quick and your finger pushes into your clit roughly. Eddie revels in it. "You like that? You like being called a good girl? I fucking knew it." 

You frown and start to turn to him. He presses his cheek to your head so you can't, stuck looking down the length of the bed at your trembling legs. 

"You looked so flustered, standing all sweet and quiet by the van out front with your thighs squeezed together. You think I didn't see that shit?" 

You're limp against him, thighs spread wide as you work into your clit, chasing this new feeling. You can hardly breathe, every exhale a keening moan that has you shame-faced and weepy. You roll your hips to meet his fingers, his hand slapping against your cunt with a slick slap. 

"You looked so sweet. Y'always do." He turns his lips to your ear and curls into you until your squealing. "Guess looks can be deceiving." 

You're so close, so close. Tendrils of heat curl heavily at your core. "Eddie, I'm- I'm-"

"You wanna cum?"

"Yes," you pant. 

He pulls his fingers from your cunt and you're so confused that you stop, your climax slipping away in seconds. 

"Sorry, but you have to do it yourself. This is all pointless if you can't get there on your own," he says. 

Your chest heaves. "That's mean. You're mean." 

"I never claimed otherwise. Here, middle and marriage, babe." He guides your hand to your entrance. You push your fingers inside, your tongue between your lips in concentration. Your fingers aren't as thick as his, they don't feel quite the same, but Eddie pushes your thumb into your clit. "Move your wrist. Feel that? Feel how soft you are? How fucking warm you are?" 

You're not nearly as good as he was but every clumsy touch feels electric. You push your thumb into sweeping circles and pant your frustration aloud, feeling close to tears. 

"You wanna know what I think about, when I jerk off?" he asks unexpectedly.

You nod, your head moving back into his collar. He rubs the lengths of your arms leisurely, his lazy demeanour in total juxtaposition to your desperation.

"There's this girl that comes to see me," he starts, coloured by a smug amusement. "Sweet thing, soft-spoken, always wearing these pretty clothes looking like something straight out of the movies.

"I think about a lot of things. Her thighs-" One of his hands falls to your thigh in time, massaging, "fuck, just wanna bury my face in them and never come out. Pull down those cotton shorts she's so partial to with the dainty stitching and-" He laughs and his lips part over your shoulder. His teeth scratch up, up, up. "Make her fucking cry my name. Feel those thighs tense up around me." 

You're so close your entire body shudders. You slow without meaning to, holding your breath in wait for Eddie to finish his story  

He gives you one final push. "Always wondered if she sounds as pretty as she looks when she cums." He kisses the small graze he'd given you mere seconds ago and everything is blue-white with heat. "Gonna clue me in, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me?" 

Your eyes close hard and you breathe out, an exhale ragged and weak and mewling. You don't moan so much as sob without tears, tensing up in Eddie's arms as bliss blooms. You pull your hand from your sopping cunt and feel your walls contract around nothing as you cum.

He pulls you close, throbbing cock pressing hard into your back. "Fuck," he hisses, hands placating where they lay. 

You go lax, head tipping back as you suck in air that had felt elusive moments ago. 

Eddie rubs your arms without saying anything. You cover his hands and try to summon up words. 

"Just as pretty as you look," he murmurs. 

He's so fuckng nice. So fucking nice, and what? He thinks about you when he jacks off? Since when? 

You sit up and drop your chin to your chest, panting still. 

"You okay?"

After a few seconds you smile and turn to him, intent on saying, Yes, thank you, and maybe something with more gratitude, something silly, just something. But you can't speak.

His face is close. 

Eddie brings a hand to the slope of your rising shoulder, follows a line to the curve of your neck. You look to his eyes and find him staring at your lips unabashedly. 

He pulls you into him. You close your eyes. 

Eddie Munson tastes like lots of things as he kisses you.

Cigarettes, unavoidable. Under that, sugar. Something sweet but heavy as bourbon vanilla. Your lips part and close in tandem with his, slow and hungry. Your heart races and your fingers are still wet as you twist in his arms and take his face into your hands. 

You climb up onto your knees and Eddie doesn't know what to do with you. 

He smiles so hard he has to pull away. Not smirking, smiling, a cheek-aching, too-happy smile that softens everything in your chest. 

You rub a shaking thumb over his cheek. You don't know if it's because of the post-orgasm rush of hormones or because he just kissed you and now he's smiling like he might do it again. 

He does. He kisses you and grabs your waist. His fingers mess with the hem of your shirt and he breaks the kiss short to say, "Take it off?" 

You sit back on your knees, feel the mess of wet between your legs spread as you grab at the edge of your shirt and pull it up. Eddie helps though he doesn't need to, and just like that you're shirtless. 

"Oh my god, I can't believe this is happening," he says, voice weak in what you suspect is one of his dramatics. 

He slides his hands up your sides and stops just below your breasts. His thumbs grace the undersides and his brow puckers. "Fuck," he mouths appreciatively. 

You flush head to toe. "Yours, too?" you ask gently. 

Eddie reaches back to pull off his shirt. His hair's in total disarray and he runs his hands through it, biceps flexing with the movement, torso taut. The black ink of his tattoos move with him and your eyes eat up every single one. 

He catches your eyes where they linger on the volley of bats. "You like that one?" 

"I've always liked that one." 

He grins and it's honey thick, hands at the small of your back and tugging. You spread your knees wide on impulse and find yourself flush to his chest, his arms locking you into place as he dives in for another kiss. Again you're surprised at how deeply he kisses you, how it ebbs and flows from slow to fast like he's both savouring and gorging himself on your closeness. 

You've never been kissed like this. You're weightless. You feel every contiguity between you, the hot and wet of his mouth, the crook of his elbow against the nape of your neck, your nipples peaked against his chest and the length of his dick pushing up into your aching cunt. 

"Fucking pretty," he says, pulling back just enough to kiss the corner of your mouth, your chin. He kisses your jaw over and over and over, lips pulling into crescents and then the same word. Pretty. 

His mouth opens wide at your throat, teeth scratching lightly as it closes. He sucks your skin between his lips and rolls it, hand spreading wide and palm flat at your shoulder blade. Steadying. . 

"That's cute," he says when he pulls away, lips shining. 

"What?" you ask, hand drifting up. You poke at the quick-forming contusion.

He nudges it aside with his face as he moves in to further mark up your neck. "You're so fucking pretty," he says, each word separated by a nipping kiss. 

His hands are everywhere.

Everything is warm and you can't breathe. You plant your hands at his shoulders and push away from him, and he stops you from falling flat on your back, levelling you with a worried glance. 

"Is it too much?" he asks. 

"No, I'm just hot. Really hot." You take a big breath and wipe your face with the back of both hands. 

"That's true," he says, leaning back against the wall. His hands fall to your thighs. "Are you okay?" 

You drop your hands abruptly and can't believe the fondness you're feeling. "You're pretty, too," you tell him. Honest if very shy; meek, entirely sincere. "I'm okay. I want…" 

"You want?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"I have this fantasy," you begin. 

Eddie widens your legs to move from under them. It doesn't surprise you when he comes to lie on your chest, holding his weight off of you with an arm at the side of your ribs. His hair falls and hides the room from view. All you can see is his face, and it's beautiful. 

"Tell me about it." 

"It's- okay. It's…" You drift off as he dips down to kiss your collar, only chaste pecks but enough to distract you. "It's kind of like this." 

"Yeah?" His breath warms your chest. More ditzy kisses.

"I get here and you're coming out of the shower-" 

"Tasteful." 

"With a towel low on your hips," you add pointedly. It's useless, his sarcasm has pinned you spot on. "And you- you touch me." 

Eddie kitten licks the skin he's just nibbled and looks up. "Like this?" 

"Like this." 

"And after that," his hand moves between you to the zipper of his jeans, the sound of metal clicking metal ringing through the room, "what do I do?" 

"You push me down into the bed, and-" You feel the fabric of his jeans rub your thighs as he pulls them down. "You…" 

"What do I do, sweetheart?" 

"You push my legs up and you fuck me," you confess.

He scrambles back towards his nightstand, a hand on your ankle that says, I'm not going far. "How do I fuck you? Am I rough?" 

"Not at first." 

There, in his hands, the red plastic of a condom wrapper, bright as a maraschino cherry. He holds it up and you nod. 

"Not at first," he murmurs, ripping open the condom, hissing as he pulls it over his weeping cock. It's big – not too thick, but big, surrounded by a thatch of dark curls trimmed neat. "But eventually?" 

He rolls it on tight and then there's nothing but this admission of your guiltiest fantasy. You spread your legs without thinking and he pulls you towards him, thumb collecting slick where it's pooled and pushing it up towards your entrance. What's left on his fingers he smears over the length of his shaft. You watch him rub at the head and sigh. 

"Eventually," you agree. 

His cock rubs up against you as he leans down and pinches your chin between his fingers, lips parted from a sharp gasp and opening further. "Can I fuck you? Is that what you want?" 

You nod voraciously. 

He gives you a very firm kiss at the highest point of your cheek. "In words." 

"Yes, you can fuck me. That's what I want," you say without hesitation. 

"You tell me if I do something you don't like," he says, lining up. 

"I will," you say earnestly. 

Eddie pushes your leg up towards your tummy and holds it there. "Good girl," he praises, and pushes in.

You're already worked open by his hand, your own hand and your climax, and still it's a snug fit. You cross your arm over your chest with your lips bitten hard to stop from making what you anticipate to be a very great and mortifying sound. He takes it slow, real slow, towering over you with his brows furrowed just slightly and his back arching. Every move he makes is accompanied by a careful thrust of his hips. He's rhythm in motion. 

"Fuck," he mutters, more than once. He's halfway when you feel that stretch, your pulpy walls accommodating him with little complaint and a lot of pleasure. 

You drop your head back against the bed sheets and hug yourself. 

Eddie reaches for your hand where its cracking your breast absentmindedly and squeezes your fingers. "How's that?" he asks. "How's that feel?" 

You close your eyes. "S'good, Eddie." You lay out your own roll of expletives as he pushes in ever deeper. "You're really- oh," you gasp, "really deep." 

"You should see it, babe, pretty pussy gripping my every fucking inch." He leans down and his cock fills another inch of you. Your fingers ache with how hard he's squeezing them, and you look up to find his eyes on yours. "I'm gonna fill you up, okay? You gonna be a good girl for me and take it?" 

You blink and your lashes feel heavy with tears. "Yeah. I can take it. I can take it." 

"I know," he says, hovering over you, close enough to hug if you wanted to. 

He grabs your side and his thumb pushes into the soft swell of your breast, his grip tightening as he fits those last inches of his cock inside you. You rub your cheek against his bedsheets, your head fuzzy from being so full. He takes your bared neck as an opportunity and ducks into the juncture of it and his face fits there like it was made to, his nose bobbing against the column of your throat as he starts to fuck into you. His hips roll, a mess of his sticky pubes kissing your clit. 

This close you can smell him, the heavy scents of pot and smoke, the sweet nutty smell of oil clinging to his hair. Sweat, as you imagine you smell of too, and sex. The room is filled with it, the smells and the sounds of his thighs thudding into yours. 

"Eddie- Eddie," you whimper, muffled by the sheets beneath you. 

He pushes in deep and rubs his nose into your skin emphatically. "What's wrong, hm? What's got you all wound up?" 

You wrap your arms around his back. You're not sure if you're allowed to but you're hardly thinking ahead – you can't. Every thrust, every movement he makes is at the forefront of your mind, commanding all of your attention. The tickling of his hair against the side of your face. The skipping of the chains of his necklace where it teases your neck. 

"Babe?" he asks, pulling back to turn your head. He stills inside you. 

You protest, loud and completely unlike yourself. "Eddie, don't stop. Please don't." Your hands push into his shoulder blades. He ruts in at your request, thumb rubbing your cheek. "Feels so good," you say. You trip over your praise, voice breaking. 

He starts up again, whispering, "Do you want me to hold your leg up, pretty girl?" and, "Taking me so well- taking it so fucking well," and, worse, "Fuck, sweetheart, just like that," when you tigthen around him. 

You weave your fingers into the messy crush of black curls surrounding his face, careful not to tug as you covet the back of his head and nape of his neck, scratching his scalp lightly with one hand as the other strokes his side. 

Your moans become a half-sobbing sort of mess, quiet and desperate, drawn out of you with every tap of his cock into your soft spot. When he finds it he can't not search for it, rutting into it over and over until you can't produce anything but an unintelligible stream of babble and happy sighs. 

He laps lazily at your neck, the stretch of skin dampened and stinging from love bites. He thrusts in hard and hits something sweet that has you clinging to him. 

"You smell good," he says into your skin.

Your hips ache with pleasure. "I must taste pretty good," you say. What, with how he's willing to nibble on you like this. 

He squeezes your neck and narrows his eyes at you playfully. "I intend to find out." He moves down until your lips are a hair's width from touching. "Bet you taste as sweet as everything else."

You lift your chin and kiss him, dedicating your affections to his top lip. He groans into your mouth, hips moving slow and thrusts shallow when suddenly they're not. His cock drags out slowly and slams in deep, his pelvis hitting into yours. 

You keen into the kiss, gentle and at odds with his fucking. His fingers find your ear and his thumb follows down the shell until he's pinching your earlobe, a split-second touch that melts you into putty. He pulls away from the kiss and inhales loudly, his fingers under your ear and pushing your face to the side so that he can wade in from a new angle.

You curl your fingers around his wrist and let yourself be kissed and fucked and touched. Anything he wants to do, he can do. 

Eddie breaks the kiss.

"What did I taste like?" you ask breathlessly. 

He traces an invisible teardrop down your cheek with the back of his pinky finger. "Oh, sweetheart," he says quietly, lowering his lips to the shell of your ear. "That's not where I meant." 

Another hard thrust. You gasp at the dull aching spreading through your tummy and Eddie softens slightly, not so deep but just as fast, faster, his cheek to your cheek as he works you open. His rugged panting in your ear is everything you need. You force your hand between your body and Eddie's and search for the wet mess of your clit, chasing quick circles into the swollen bump. 

Eddie realises what's happening and his fucking turns desperate. "You gonna cum again? Shit- keep touching, I'll get you there, fucking promise you." He's hardly pulling out an inch before he's rutting back in, kicking up the speed until all you can feel is pleasure again. 

Eddie slows down as you cum, moaning as you tighten around him. He pushes away from you to kneel between your legs again, eyes locking onto your cunt obstinately, his panting loud as he drags his cock in and out. 

"Insane," he mumbles, hands coasting down your legs until he's grasping the fat of your thighs and pulling you back onto his cock. "You're insane." 

As if proving it, his hands rove the hills and troughs of your torso, your skin clammy underhand, his hips moving mindlessly. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand and blink back into focus. 

"Are you close?" you ask him, whispering. 

You're lucky he can hear you with the music he's playing and the sounds of your slick hole being stretched. Eddie tucks a lock of sweat-dark hair behind his ear and his eyes pause in their reverential searching to meet yours. 

He peels your hand off of your mouth and holds it. 

"Fucking teetering, babe. Been close ever since I felt you wrapped around my fingers." He pulls your hand and you take it as a cue to try and sit up. Eddie helps you into his lap, your thighs straddling his thighs, slipping down his length until you're stuffed to bursting. 

You hide your face in his shoulder and he rubs your back. "You're okay," he says sympathetically, "I got you. You just sit pretty, there's a good girl." 

You wrap your arms around his neck and try your best to bounce on his cock as he thrust up into you, a steady pace that turns sloppy. You rake your hands through his curls and kiss at the curve of his neck down to the slope of his shoulder, dizzied and cock-drunk, totally fucked out. You hum into your kisses with every prodding of his mushroom tip against your deepest spot, rambling nonsense at him in a way you hope is making a difference. 

"Fucking me so good," you mumble, equal parts tearful and euphoric, lips wet and spreading a shine like frost in the sun over his lean shoulder. "So good, Eddie. Thought about this too much." 

"Yeah?" he asks, sounding like a different person. Voice rough as hewn stone and hands bruising where they grip you, his heavy sack slapping into you with every sluggish rock of his hips. "Good as you pictured? M'I fucking you like you wanted?" 

"Better," you say sincerely. 

"Fuck, sweetheart," he says, and he's close, you know he is.

You roll your pelvis in circles and try your hardest, aflame as you plead, "Cum for me, please? Please, Eddie, wanna feel it." 

Despite your shy intonation Eddie goes rigid. He fucks in with one final thrust that sends shocks deep to your core and spreading out, cutting your happy little gasp short as he pulls your head tight to his neck. His hips twitch underneath you and he's making sounds that are going to haunt you, whiney, begging moans over your head. 

Eddie's tight hold on you slowly loosens. You're breathing fast, finally out of motion. Your thighs burn where they're spread over his lap and you squirm unintentionally. 

He pulls your neck back from his shoulder and looks over your face, concern lining the soft set of his eyes. He cups your cheek in question. 

"I'm okay," you say softly. "I'm more than okay. That was amazing." 

"It was amazing," he agrees, caught off guard.

"Yeah." 

You shift backwards and the two of you wince at the sensitivity. You ease your legs open and Eddie pulls out, pumping the sticky shaft once. His eyes flutter closed. 

You move off of his lap and turn to the side so you can stretch out your aching legs. Eddie follows suit, collapsing off of his knees and onto his back, the pillow behind him keeping him propped up. 

You watch him ease the condom off of his cock curiously, White cum has smeared and drips down the length of him, his pubes tangled by a mixture of your slick and his. 

He spots you watching and smiles. "What, sweetness? What are you thinking about?"

"I made you cum." 

His eyebrows jump but quickly smooth. "I think I went blind, for a second." 

You giggle at his hyperbole and he pulls you down against his chest, your side pressing into his navel. Your cheek to the space shy of his heart. 

His hand comes to rest on your forehead. 

"Do you really think about me?" you ask, knowing the answer. 

"Every night." 

You close your eyes and hide your smile in his skin. He chuckles and wraps you up in one arm, his hand a firm pressure as he massage the dipped plane of your back. 

Nestling your cheek into his chest, you say, "I think about it, too. All the time." 

"Uh-huh. Maybe we can make some more of those racy thoughts a reality. What was that one about me coming out of the shower?" 

You like this casual conversation and decide to try and make him laugh, stretching your words out low. "Well, you're coming out of the shower, and your towel slips open-" There, his bumping laughter at your over the top salaciousness. 

"That's awful. Most cliche, overdone, cheap porno concept ever," he chastens. 

"I never said I was creative." 

"What happens after that?" 

"The towel gets swept away by a sudden gust of wind, so I have to cover you. With my body." 

He bursts. There's no other word to describe it, his back arches with the force of his laughter and he holds his fist to his mouth, shaking and giggling like an idiot. 

"Where's the wind coming from?" he questions incredulously. 

"I don't know! The window?" 

"Oh my god," he says. He hooks his hand under your arm and pulls you up his chest, dotting a fond kiss to your forehead as you near. "And after that?" 

"Well, I told you that part." 

"Right, we hook up, but after that." 

You clench your fists, insecure. "After?" 

He brings the hand that isn't loving the length of your back to your face, stroking the skin under your chin with the backs of his index and middle finger, the flat of his fingernails sliding gently in a soothing back and forth. 

"I guess it's kind of like this," you answer eventually. 

"Does fantasy Eddie get another kiss, too? Or does he- do they stop, afterwards?" 

"It's a fantasy. The kisses never stop," you tell him. Adrenaline must linger in your veins; you can barely speak.

His expression becomes impassive, and a lull in the conversation blossoms. He searches your face for something and you don't know what, but he must find it, because he dips down and kisses you chaste on the lips. 

Your hands are back to tentative as they explore his neck. Your fingertips grace the curves of his throat and then sink behind, into the dampened mess of his hair. 

He stays chaste, dainty kisses, pulling back to dot them against your lips over and over. 

"Eddie," you say softly, "what are you doing?" 

"It feels like kissing," he says, tone a mirror of your own. 

You huff a laugh against his lips and kiss back. 

Later, after more kisses than you could ever count and an hour dozing on his chest whilst his hand rubbed circles into your tired back, you get dressed into your clothes that he likes so much and slip your goodie bag into the belly of your strappy purse. 

"Don't go over the top with it, alright?" he says, watching the green bud dissappear.

Jeans back in place and still bare-chested, Eddie sits on the end of his bed and scratches the back of his neck. You give him a grateful smile. "No, I won't. I actually think I might sleep really well tonight without it." 

He smirks. "I bet you will." 

Eddie walks with you to the front porch. You'd linger if you didn't have to go, and you're pretty sure he'd let you. There's a fraction of awkward silence.

"See you later," you say, walking sideways down one step, another. 

Eddie catches your hand. It takes you a second to realise what he's done: forced your crumpled thirty dollars back into your hand. Your heart misses a beat and you feel your stomach plumet – you hadn't fucked him for the free pot. 

"Eddie-" 

"My girl can't pay for her own supply. That's not happening." 

You take one step up. "Your girl?" 

He has the good graces to look nervous. "If you wanna be." 

You don't know how to answer. He looks pretty like this in the last dregs of sunshine, big brown eyes waiting patiently for you to say something, hand clutching his elbow. It doesn't feel entirely real. 

You step on tip toes and work your hands behind his neck to kiss his cheek before rubbing your forehead against his chin. "I'll come by tomorrow?" you ask hopefully. He relaxes under your weight.

"Any time you want. I'll take you some place nice, if you're up for it." 

You set back on your heels and pull away. "You don't need to go all fancy on me, Munson." You're happy to get stoned and eat burgers on the couch.

He looks you up and down, eyes catching on the flanks of your thighs before he takes in your face. His smile is almost dorky when he says, "No I- I think I do. I'll see you tomorrow, pretty girl." 

You nod with an aching smile and are a little ways away when he smugly calls, "Sleep well!" 

After the lesson he just gave you, you're sure you will. 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist

please reblog if you enjoyed, I promise it makes a big difference! ♡

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine

[officialabortive]

wolf hybrid!Bakugou x reader

You'd just finished running errands, grocery bags in hand as you approached the door to your apartment. You breathed a sigh of exasperation as you inserted a bronze key into the lock, knowing your (not so) little wolf hybrid was going to be in a mood.

He was expecting to tag along on your short outing, but to his annoyance you'd told him to stay behind. You gave him the excuse of 'needing him to guard the house' but the truth was you would be passing a certain convenience store that had a shop cat. Whenever bakugou laid eyes on the cat sitting on the checkout counter from through the window, he would try to fight the poor thing. You always had to pull the growling blond away from the window by his collar, the commotion causing the spooked tabby to scamper away down the snack aisle. All this under the guise of "the fucker needed to be knocked down a peg."

You kick the door back closed from behind. The muffled audio of the tv could be heard ringing throughout the house. Katsuki only watched cooking shows or the nature channel. When it came to the latter, he would occasionally lower himself into a hunting position. As if he was about to strike on the group of bouncing gazelles on screen. It really was quite endearing to watch.

You noticed how Katsuki didn't acknowledge your presence when you walked by. He's pouting, giving you the cold shoulder, all because you didn't take him out with you. He's such a big puppy.

After placing the groceries on the countertop, you rummage around in the bags untill you pulled out a box. Grabbing a couple of its contents to set on the counter, you placed the box and other items in the cobbord before wandering into the livingroom.

Katsuki still refused to look at you, not even spairing a glance. Bright red eyes remaining glued to the pixilated rabbits on the wide screen. But his ears still turned toward you, always listening.

"I'm sorry I couldn't take you outside with me"

It was hard not to crack a grin at his huff

"I promise I'll take you on a walk tomorrow" plopping yourself onto the cushion next to him

He rumbled a low growl, lip curled to reveal a couple teeth to show he was less than satisfied with your answers.

"Here, I got you something"

He finally turned his head to see your hand held out, a cookie rested on your palm. Katsuki quirked a brow at you.

You know he's not really into sweet shit. So the hell is this?

Nevertheless he leaned down to sniff it. It smells... good? Grabbing with his teeth, he takes it into his mouth and it's gone with one chomp.

His tail immediately comes to life, repeatedly colliding with the throw pillows. The thumping of his tail louder than the tv. His gaze is back on you to see your already holding out another. This time he takes it with such haste that he nearly bites your fingers.

Patting him on the head and rubbing his fuzzy ears you get up "I'll go grab some more"

You smile to yourself, not daring to laugh because he would surely hear you, while opening the cabinet. Pulling out the box that reads:

25 pack

Doggy Biscuits

Bacon flavor

You bought these as a joke. Who knew your big bad wolf, Katsuki bakugou, would like dog treats

MASTERLIST

#wolf bakugou #wolf hybrid bakugou #wolf!bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha #bakugo fluff #bnha x reader #bakugou drabble #mha #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou #bakugo #bnha bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugo Katsuki #Katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #hybrid bakugou #hybrid! bakugou #bakugou fluff #bakugo imagine #Katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou Katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #Katsuki x reader

[pfhwrittes]

housemate!kyle x gender neutral reader let's goooooo.

rating: PG-13 (for now) pairing: eventual kyle "gaz" garrick x gender neutral reader word count: 1.5k TW: bit of swearing, fluff, mentions of original characters AN: i fully plan on writing more of this, but i wanted to get the first part out before i start the next part. as always, barely edited so funky grammar and typos are still likely. this is completely self indulgent. please send love to @391780 for cheerleading me with this one!

–

your housemate sucks since meeting her new boyfriend. 

your normally sociable, polite and reasonable housemate has turned into some kind of lust-crazed succubus since meeting dale, spending hours upon hours of her time shut in her bedroom with him. and if she doesn’t shut the fuck up in the next five minutes you’re going to kick her door in. or castrate him. or possibly burst into sleep deprived tears.

“oh! oh god! fuck! dale, baby, oh my god!”

jesus fucking christ. it’s 4.30am and ruby is wailing like a cat in heat at the top of her fucking voice. she’s so loud you could swear she and her soon to be castrated boyfriend were fucking in your bedroom instead of the room next to yours. briefly you debate yelling at the top of your lungs but you don’t want to disturb the neighbours any further, so with a muttered curse you snatch your pillow and duvet off your bed and stomp downstairs to the living room so you can sleep on the sofa. 

you get settled onto the sofa and glare at the ceiling in the living room, the sound of rhythmic thumping and moaning still audible even with the increased distance between you and the nymphomaniac formerly known as ruby. you mutter and grumble to yourself as you shut your eyes trying to get at least a little bit of sleep before needing to get up for your job interview in the morning. 

–

at midday you kick the front door shut behind you and shrug your coat off your shoulders as you step further into the hallway. 

“hey i’m home!” you call up the stairs, “my job interview was an utter shit show so i’m thinking we get a chinese and a bottle of wine to commiserate, yeah?” you pause waiting to hear ruby’s usual reply reminding you not to order from the golden palace but silence greets you instead. 

“huh. weird.” you mutter to yourself as you pass through the living room, dropping your bag and coat on the sofa as you beeline towards the kitchen. ruby’s probably making something for lunch while listening to one of her creepy true crime podcasts. 

“hey ruby - oh.” you cut yourself off as you walk into the kitchen, no sign of ruby except for the used butter knife leaving a greasy smear on the counter and a pink post-it note stuck on the front of the fridge. you step forward to pluck the note off the fridge and squint at ruby’s loopy handwriting.

gone 2 stay w/ dale 4 a few days! look after widget for me - r xxxx

you huff a breath out of your nose and crumple the note into a ball so you can pop it in the kitchen bin with the crumbs you sweep off the side into your palm. ugh. it’s such a little thing but you feel frustrated tears well up in your eyes in response to having to clean up after ruby once again on minimal sleep. 

a tiny high pitched mrr! interrupts your internal grumbling and you turn around to face the little tabby that is waiting patiently by an empty food bowl. 

“hiya widge, have you been a good girl while i’ve been out?” you ask softly as you crouch so widget can bonk her head onto your outstretched hand. typically widget doesn’t answer but she chirps again before padding back to her bowl, politely requesting that you get with the programme and make with the biscuits before cleaning up the rest of the kitchen. 

you sigh and push yourself up from the floor, just another half finished job left for you. great. 

–

a week later, with no sign of ruby and your texts unanswered, your laptop chimes on the coffee table with a new email. you hope briefly that it’s one of the companies you’ve applied to responding to your application with an offer for a job interview, but your heart sinks as you realise it's an email from your landlord, john. 

you skim over the email and you feel your eyes sting as select phrases leap out at you. “i’m sorry to inform you that ruby has decided to end the tenancy agreement at 141 hereford way early” ... “you can choose to remain in the property as a sole tenant after an additional credit check to ensure your affordability” … “alternatively, please let me know when ruby has collected her belongings so i can advertise the room to other prospective tenants”. 

fuck. that utter bitch. she’s left you unemployed and now potentially living with a total stranger. fuck. 

your hands shake slightly as you reach for your laptop so you can start composing your reply to john. 

“hi john, thanks for letting me know. i haven’t heard from ruby in a week now, so i’m unsure when she’ll be able to collect her belongings but i think it’s probably for the best if you look at advertising her room as available to rent. i’ll start bagging up her belongings today. kind regards….” 

it’s official. your soon to be ex-housemate really fucking sucks. 

–

several days pass with a flurry of emails to john and even more unanswered texts to ruby, when a solid jaunty knock startles you out of the doze you’d dropped into on the sofa. you hiss as widget launches herself off your stomach using her claws for purchase so she can bolt up the stairs away from the noise. you swear under your breath as you kick one of the six black bin bags that line the hallway filled with ruby’s crap as you edge your way to the front door. the silhouette you can see through the frosted glass in the door knocks again just as you reach for the handle and pull the door open. 

“yeah yeah i’m here -” you cut yourself off with an embarrassed sound as you get a good look at the man standing at the threshold.  oh no, he’s fit as fuck is your first thought and you’re not wrong. 

the first thing you notice, as you flick your eyes over him quickly, is that he’s in incredible shape. the stranger has broad shoulders and a muscular chest that tapers off into a narrow waist. the second thing you notice when you raise your gaze back up to his face is that he has a jaw dropping smile when he flashes you a friendly grin. 

“hey, i’m kyle. your new housemate.” he says confidently, “john should’ve mentioned me.” 

you shake yourself out of the slight daze you’ve found yourself in - seriously no man should have skin that perfect - and you offer your own tentative smile back. 

“uh, yeah. sure. sorry i was -” you glance back into the hallway and cringe at the sight of the black bin bags “- um. in the middle of something.” you finish weakly, hoping you don’t look too obviously like you’ve been napping in the middle of the day. 

your housemate - kyle - rumbles out a slightly bashful chuckle. 

“no, no it’s fine. i would’ve been here earlier but i had to give a witness statement for the accident on the high street.” kyle reaches up and tugs at the brim of the scuffed blue baseball cap on his head awkwardly. 

“oh shit, really? what happened?” you query him eagerly, your love of gossip overriding your mild embarrassment in a flash. kyle’s eyes crinkle happily at your tone and he leans in conspiratorially, letting his hand drop away from his face. 

“some guy walked into an open manhole cover.” he says with a completely straight face. 

you burst out a startled laugh. “no fucking way!” 

kyle nods, his lips twitching in a poorly concealed grin. “yeah, stuck like winnie the pooh, i swear to god.” 

you have to hold onto the edge of the open door to stop yourself from collapsing into fits of laughter. “how -” another gleeful cackle escapes you before you can compose yourself, “how the fuck did he manage to do that?”

kyle shrugs. “he just walked straight through the barrier, surprised the lanky fucker missed it really.” 

you collapse into laughter again, feeling your cheeks ache from the width of your grin. holy shit, that’s the best thing you’ve heard all day. eventually your slightly hysterical laughter peeters out and you wipe at your eyes as you look at kyle who is grinning back at you. 

“so, fancy letting me in then?” he nudges at the frankly massive khaki rucksack at his feet after a moment of silence as if to remind you that he isn’t just here to charm you with silly stories and his offensively handsome good looks. your embarrassment flares once again as you realise you’ve just been looking at him instead of asking him to come inside like a normal person. 

“sorry, yeah of course.” you step back from the door and turn around so he can’t see the way your cheeks are now flushed from embarrassment instead of laughter. “sorry about the mess.” you say apologetically over your shoulder as kyle follows you into the hallway.

“oh i dunno, it doesn’t look too bad to me.”

you hear kyle kick the door shut behind him and you laugh again to cover up the way your stomach flutters at his tone. if you didn’t know better you’d say he was flirting with you, but you discount that as wishful thinking on your part as you lead him towards the stairs. 

it is wishful thinking, right?

#housemate!gaz #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #gender neutral reader #is that p starting a new wip series based on a whim? why yes it is! #smut is coming (no pun intended) but i wanted to post the set up straight away #eventually i'll cross post this over to ao3 #kg

[zanarkandskylines]

Tabby, Tuxedo, White Cat, Tortoiseshell, Maine Coon, and Sphynx for Katsuki!

Thank you anon! I'd love to :)

Tabby: Is your f/o snuggly? Are you? If so, what are your favourite ways to cuddle?

kat: all the damn time. not that i mind anymore, i’ve gotten used to her being clingy as hell. can’t really fall asleep without her being next to me anyways, i have to drag her ass to bed and hold her all night so she doesn’t stay up watching fuckin’ tv. rei: he can deny it all he wants, but no one is cuddlier than him after a long ass work day. he’ll come home and unwind before sitting on the couch with me, bullying his way between my legs to lay on my stomach and fall asleep. i’ve had to carry his ass to bed many nights cause he’s too stubborn to move and wants to stay put! kat: …shut up. it’s comfortable, alright?! why would i use a pillow when i have you? rei: see? told ya.

Tuxedo: Do you both prefer fancy dates where you dress up, or casual dates?

kat: we’re definitely on opposite ends with that. i prefer nicer dinners as an excuse to see her in sleek black dresses and show her off. is it selfish? absolutely. do i care? no. she’s mine at the end of the day and i get to spoil her - ‘s a win win for me. rei: i love getting dressed up, but sometimes going down to the local ice cream shop and stalking around the local arcade to win random prizes with fried snacks is my favorite kind of date night. i won’t complain about nice dinners, though. have you seen him in slacks? he always looks damn good.

White Cat: Are your f/o’s eyes particularly striking to you? In what way? Do they find themselves captivated by yours, in turn?

kat: ‘course they are. hard not ta get lost in ‘em. rei: like you even have to ask - have you seen them? they’re gorgeous. especially if you catch him lost in thought, they sparkle like the reflection of a gemstone. or when he’s really fired up about something? they really shine then. kat: [turning his head away in embarrassment]

Tortoiseshell: Who has the worse temper? Can you get snippy with each other?

kat: …plead the fifth. rei: pfft, there’s your answer. it’s all outta love, though…mostly.

Maine Coon: Are you a stay at home couple, or do you like going on trips together?

kat: gettin’ out of the city is always my choice. rather be tucked away in a cabin somewhere or layin’ on a beach, unbothered and quiet. stayin’ home is fine, especially in our line of work but if it’s an option, i’m packin’ our bags and out the door with her over my shoulder. rei: agreed! couldn’t have said it better. there’s just something nice about getting away from home and the hustle of our schedules as heroes to just be…human.

Sphynx: Who prefers wearing sweaters the most? Neither, both? Do either of you knit? Would you ever wear matching sweaters?

kat: what kinda question is that? if i’m cold, i’m gonna wear a damn sweater. i fuckin’ hate the winter. we’ve worn matching christmas sweaters and that’s it - once and never again. i only did it ‘cause she made ‘em for us. rei: the only time i tried to knit something, they turned out okay! i thought it would be cute, and we were! no matter what he says. i steal most of his hoodies around the house cause i’m always cold year round, but he probably wears sweaters more in just the winter than i do all year long. he’s adamant about not being cold.

#f/o ask game #f/o imagines #self ship ask game #self ship asks #katsuki bakugo #☆.ask rei #☆.ExplodingStars #☆.katsurei

[washsandra5]

Coach Top Handle Handbags

The compartmented, cream interior adds a subtle flair, and the zipped middle pocket makes keeping cash and cards separate a breeze. A take on the classic ‘Parker’ design, this leather and coated canvas shoulder bag is a little cheeky in its presentation. The motif and colouring on the covered canvas section are reminiscent of vintage Louis Vuitton designs. Decorated in brass-tone metal details such as the ‘C’ logo around the twist-lock fastening and the chain which makes up a part of the shoulder strap.

For minimalists, solid leather bags in structured top-handle and cross-body silhouettes are more than worthy of adding to cart.

It comes in two timeless combinations—back/pewter and chalk/brass—which complement any outfit or color scheme.

If you choose to go down the route of looking for discount designer handbags, you will find that Nordstrom usually has handbags on sale.

Its iconic Horse and Carriage motif pays homage to the brand’s heritage.

A giant inflatable installation inspired by Coach's plushy Pillow Tabby bag is taking over London's Soho Square from Thursday. Our analysts are trained to combine modern data collection techniques, superior research methodology, expertise, and years of collective experience to produce informative and accurate research. VMI provides a holistic overview and global competitive landscape with respect to Region, Country, and Segment, and Key players of your market. A Sparkling Clutch That Would Shine on the Red Carpet Tyler Ellis's handbags are celebrity favorites, and the Perry is particularly award-worthy. Inside zip, cell phone and multifunction pockets Center zip compartment, Turnlock closure, fabric lining Handles with 13cm drop, ... Crafted in soft, lightweight pebbled leather with a bit of sheen, this simple, gracefully curved shape distills the satchel to its purest form. Crafted from suede and leather, the Drifter Carryall bag features dual handles, a sh... Make a wonderful appearance by adorning this plush patent leather bag. Lined with suede on the inside, it keeps all your essentials intact. It is equipped with a roomy interior to hold your essentials and much more. From the House of Coach, this Dreamer 36 satchel is surely worth the investment. It is made from multicolored leather on the exterior and comes with black-toned hardware and dual han... Alyssa Nakken made major league history as the first female coach on the field in a regular-season game when she took her spot for the San Francisco Giants on Tuesday night against San Diego. While Coach has undergone several rebrands over the years, it’s remained true to its heritage. Court Backpack In Signature Canvas - If you are unsure of what you can use this bag for. It can be used as a small diaper bag, purse or a carry-on backpack when traveling. Beat Shoulder Patch Bag- The patch detailing on this bag really brings the color and even the strap detailing to life.

Coach Top Handle Handbags

No bags will be physically shoppable on-site, but there will be QR codes around the structure that will direct visitors to Coach’s e-commerce site to complete the purchase. Sign up for PEOPLE's Shopping newsletter to stay up-to-date on the latest sales, plus celebrity fashion, home decor and more. As with all things on Rue La La, these secret sales are only valid for about 72 hours, and inventory is already quite sparse at the time of writing. To access the savings, you'll need to create an account with your email address . We strongly advise checking in on the site often so that you never miss a designer deal.

Leconi Large Shoulder Bag Shoulder Bag Women's Bucket Bag Women's Bag Leather Brown Le0055

Truly dainty and utterly delightful this is a smart-casual evening Rambler Crossbody 16 bag which will blend well with almost any outfit (as long as it’s not overly formal). This Chain Handled Quilted Leather Bag from Zara retails for $149, but it looks like it should cost way more than that. Style this gold and white bag with all of your fancy looks. https://bagtip.com/coach-womens-top-handle-handbags_154/ Shoulder bags are the season’s hottest ‘90s revival trend, and the jacquard Ergo purse is Coach's take on the craze. It features a zippered closure, inner pocket and credit card slots and an adjustable strap with a 10.5-inch drop. For an extra fee, you can customize it with hand-crafted leather tea rose blooms and metal pins featuring Coach motifs. Coach's secret sale includes dainty gold jewelry, sleek boots, and fall wardrobe essentials. But we suggest filling your cart with the label's leather bags, from micro satchels to laptop-sized totes. Harper's BAZAAR participates in various affiliate marketing programs, which means we may get paid commissions on editorially chosen products purchased through our links to retailer sites. Authentic, preowned, 60s vintage Bonnie Cashin for Coach 'Super Hero Lunch Box' aka hinged doctors bag in mahogany leather. New Without Tags Coach Signature Prairie Satchel Li/Khaki/Brown Women's Handbag. Updated in a graphic mix of custom-woven jacquard and smooth contrast leather, gracefully curved shap... Coach Vintage Classic Cognac Leather Top Handle Satchel Crossbody Flap Bag Leather Gold tone hardware Made in United States Handle drop 6.5" Removable shoulder strap drop 50&qu... Typically their more affordable bags are available at the Coach outlet where you are able to purchase bags at a more affront price. When I was in high school all of the cool girls had Coach handbags. You were considered lame if you didn’t have at least one Coach handbag. I got a real bargain and you just need to take the time and look for what you really want. As an individual obsessed with luxury bags, I can say that “if you desire it, you can get it.” What matters the most is actually not the price but getting something that is truly worth it. Okay, this is a small option, but it is half the price you would expect to pay for a regular size Gucci handbag.

#coach womens top handle handbags

[venuslcver]

JUST FRIENDS PT. 2 ⋆

pairing: bestfriend!sarah x kook!reader

synopsis: after sharing a moment with your best friend, sarah cameron, the night previously, sarah and you establish boundaries.

tw: pining trope, fluff, feminine described character, kissing, previous toxic relationships, pressuring of sexual activity (no use of y/n)

any type of interaction including likes, comments, and reblogs is appreciated! but ultimately not necessary. let me know if im missing any warnings!

after what had happened the night previously, you had fallen straight to sleep when you got home. you would have remained dead asleep if it wasn't for a text that you received. sending a large wave of vibrations onto the pillow your head was laying on. startling awake, you pulled your phone out, from under your satin-covered pillow.

it wasn't just a random message from a random person, it was a text from her. sarah. she had always texted you in the morning, if she wasn't spending the night, so what made it different this time? gleaming a smile before you had even read the text sent. but it didn't matter what she said, she could have insulted you in that text and you would have told her how perfect she was.

unlocking your phone with face id, you looked at the message she sent. she wanted to hang out at her house. shit you had made brunch plans with your mother and her friends, then you were going to go shopping with hannah, a friend from your private high school. letting her know that you couldn't come by until that afternoon, you began to fully wake up.

stumbling over the shoes that were scattered throughout your room. you were like a tornado when it came to the mess that you made when getting ready for social events.

"motherfucker!", you screamed while jumping on your left foot, holding the big toe of your right foot. my god were the katespade stiletto heels, that were scattered with a bow on the front of them, absolutely breathtaking on. but damn did the sharp heel hurt like a bitch when you stubbed the soft flesh of your small toe on it.

making your way to your white fluorescent light-filled bathroom. peeling your tiny denim shorts off, then your even smaller top off. steam poured from crevices within, making your shower glass only keep the heat in for a minute time frame. condensation rolling down all the glass surfaces in the bathroom.

taking thirty minutes to follow your shower routine to completion, you finally stepped out of the downpour of clean water, you twisted the handle in the shower off. reaching for your light pink dusted, monogrammed towels, you stood drying yourself off before making head back to your room.

taking a glob of brazilian bum bum cream into your hand, you began rubbing the lotion all over your body. letting it dry for a moment, you meticulously picked out a summery outfit, a flowery dress that would look amazing with the new flats that you got. perfect for brunch and shopping.

after applying your makeup and blowing out your hair, there was only one thing left to do— pick out matching accessories to go with your dress.

opening up your jewelry box, you began picking out the pieces you would wear— silver hoop earrings, tennis bracelets, tabby rings, and stacked katespade necklaces.

grabbing your new coach juliet shoulder bag, and keys to your car. you made your way down to your foyer, clicking said keys that unlocked your bmw. only in the car for very few songs, you arrived at the local buzzing country club. just a few minutes from your house, if it wasn't for the heat-filled air, you would have driven your golf cart instead of your car. not wanting to ruin your meticulously placed curled hair.

after finishing up your brunch with your mom and her friends, you headed towards the town square which had extremely overpriced clothing pieces that you ate up. i mean it was your dad's money being spent after all.

you always had a surprising amount of fun at brunch, with all things considered. your mother and her friends were a mere twenty-five to thirty years older than you. though that didn't stop you from thinking about sarah during both events.

it didn't seem to help at all that your friend, hannah, and the older woman could not stop asking about your love life. only able to laugh when the thought of you marrying one of the available, male, bachelors in the outer banks. norah, your mother's best friend, even mentioned how much you and that cameron kid got along. though she wasn't talking about sarah. only leaving you to let out an awkward laugh, which only lead them to push more, thinking it was some type of crush confession.

by the time both of your plans had concluded it was already 4:30 in the afternoon. pulling into her paved driveway, you yanked the driver mirror down, inspecting your face, you applied lipgloss, and sprites your now-gone perfume.

taking a moment to breathe, you slam the door of your car, not even bothering to lock it. too anxiety-ridden about what will unfold when you open the can of worms that had followed you around since the night before.

the cameron's front door creaked open, quietly closing the door behind you, your eyes subconsciously searched for the person that caused an unmeasurable amount of uneasiness. the same feeling that you had yet to experience. not even with kelce. which accounted for the amount of jitteriness that was coursing through your blue-tinted veins that traced your tan skin, caused by the sun.

the noise of the front door seemed to send a signal to every cameron within the walls of the house to spawn out of thin air. wheezie walked with haste to near the front door, "hey! you wanna go on a sunset golf cart ride with me?"

"no-not at this moment", you said brushing her off, uncharacteristically, forcing her to scoff and walk off. just as you were about to make your way into the room that belonged to sarah— you were loudly interrupted by rose.

"dear, would you like to go to the grocery store with me? i ran out of wine"

before you could respond, sarah rushed down the stairs with lightning speed, wrapping her hand around your forearm, "uh rose we were actually planning on doing something"

"o-ok"

you could barely hear Rose's response due to all of your attention being on attempting to not trip with the speed at which sarah was dragging you up the stairs.

closing the door behind her, sarah pulled you by the material of your dress, holding onto your waist, she kissed you passionately. with confusion flooding your mind, wanting to get an explanation for her sudden jumping of your bones, you pressed your hand against her cami-covered chest. to which she stopped her assault on your lips, looking at you bewildered, wanting to know why the hell you stopped her.

though on a moment of reflection, you began to think the same. why the hell did you stop her? pondering for a split second, you pressed your lips back to hers. breaking the kiss, you peppered kisses against her neck. turning her neck, allowing you more access. lowering your gaze to her prominent showing chest. you always loved this top on her.

just as you went to focus your mouth on her chest, sarah cleared her throat, "l-let's watch a movie"

"yeah, s-sure let's do that"

yet, again she yanked at your hand, forcing you onto her bed. grabbing a hold of a blanket located at the bottom of her bed, you leaned your back against her pillows, while pulling out a secret stash of sweet treats that she had in her bedside table. intention to hide it from wheezie, she could practically sense candy in her close vicinity. that girl could get on a sugar high like no other, jittery and all.

sarah feeling that you needed an explanation for her abrupt stop of physical stuff, sarah spoke "I'm sorry for that"

"what are you talking about?", you said playing dumb. in a sweet-driven attempt to not push. you never wanted to make her uncomfortable. both of you were in uncharted territory. you were far from a virgin, but you had never even come close to attempting anything with a girl, especially with sarah.

rolling her eyes at your ignorance, "you know exactly what. and i'm just not ready for anything like that yet. b-but if you need something like that then i understand"

sarah had never had sex, not even with topper. his pressuring was part of the reason that she broke up with him. letting out a laugh at her naiveness, "if i need something like that?", you questioned. just for sarah to childishly shrug. her not getting exactly what you were trying to lay down, you continued, "sarah do you even know me? i have never been that type of person. i have never done anything like this either. a-and we can take this at your pace."

a visible weight lifted off of her shoulder, though she still had a timid look written on her face. "i'm serious, ok?"

"ok"

sarah finally set on you being truthful, willing to not pressure her. unlike her ex who said that at the beginning, until it came to him becoming restless for sex. sarah cuddled up against you, head laying on your chest as you flipped through the netflix movie options.

#sarah cameron smut #sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron obx #sarah cameron #sarah cameron icons #obx #outer banks #sarah obx #sarah outer banks #rafe cameron #wheezie cameron #rose cameron #topper obx #topper thornton #kelce obx #⋆ sarah cameron fic ⋆ #bestfriend!sarah

[g0ldiel0ve-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: The Petite Pillow Tabby is designed w/ plush, ultra-soft metallic leather..

[oncelvdboutique]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Coach Pillow Tabby Shoulder Bag 18.

[notcool101]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Coach Pillow Tabby 18 Shoulder Bag in Pewter Ice Purple.

[datainteg]

Check out this listing I just found on Poshmark: 🌟Host Pick🌟 Authentic COACH Hangtag from Pillow Tabby Bag 26, BLACK *NEW.

[sinaitex03]

Coach Tabby bag

When we’re looking for a classic, buy- now- wear- ever bag, Coach incontinently springs to mind.

After launching way back in the 1940s, the New York fashion house has expanded into a full ready-to-wear and tear line but is cherished for its dateless bags and accessories. With one of the broadest ranges out there, Coach has a bag for every need and every style, from trending mini bags to commuter-friendly totes, being the perfect each- day everyday companion.

So to answer all of your burning questions like; How should I clean my trainer bag? Where are they made? And which Coach bag is the most popular? Then's our companion to Coach

Are Coach bags leather?

Obviously, this answer depends on the style of the bag. But yes, the maturity of Coach bags is made of ultra-expensive leather The brand’s origins are in leather goods, originally imprinting themselves as the Original American House of Leather concentrated on making beautiful yet practical pieces. So when you get a leather Trainer bag, you know you’re getting a high-quality piece that's drafted to last a continuance. They’re also committing to making their leather bags more sustainable, promising that 90 of their leather will be sourced from tableware- and Gold-rated Leather Working Group tanneries by 2025.

As well as leather, a lot of Coach bags are made of coated oil, which is where the woven oil material is carpeted in wax or resin to make it leakproof and defended. This is the material they use for their hand print.

Still, take a look at the veritably expansive selection of Coach tote bags, If you ’re looking for a Mary Poppins bag that will fit the kitchen Gomorrah. Coming in different sizes with classic design as well as further out- their styles, this is the bag for you if you ’re looking to splash out on your ever work bag that will fluently fit your laptop, book, bag and further.

A fairly new style to the brand, the Coach Tabby bag has come an instant classic. Whether you prefer a shoulder bag,cross-body or top handle bag, the Tabby comes in a range of shapes and styles to suit, with each bone being just as sharp and fluently dressed up from day- to- night. Not too small that it wo n’t fit your rudiments, but not too big that it would look out of place in a bar, the Tabby is a perfect medium.

If you're looking for a sophisticated and dateless bag the Coach Studio shoulder bag with its cubical shape is a favourite at the moment. Coming in trending colours similar as pale pink and pearl with an embossed croc finish, it ’ll be the one handbag you reach for every time.

The Coach Pillow Tabby is the new, conceivably cuter, surely more ultramodern family style. Indeed more, they've just launched a collection in light colours, always coming in similar bright, joy- converting styles there is n’t a better summer bag. There’s a larger and mini size for you to pick from, but tip for you they fit a lot more in than you actually suppose.

[sophsicle]

can you describe the life james wanted with regulus bc i need it for my mental health

It was a little something like this... It's late when James gets home from practice, the flat dark. He closes the door quietly behind him, kicking his shoes off and leaving them in the front hall. He knows he'll get hell for that in the morning but he can't quite bring himself to care. His whole body is sore, worn through. They've been on a losing streak recently so coach is working them overtime. As brutal as it's been, James actually does think it's working. Which is good, because he's tired of losing. "Meow."

An orange tabby cat hops up onto the arm of the sofa to greet him, sticking her little nose out, clearly hoping for a pet. Well, and a treat. Regulus is always accusing James of spoiling her. Honestly, it's less of an accusation and more just a statement of fact. James is pretty shameless, Regulus rolling his eyes every time he sees him pulling out the treat bag.

"Hey Gee," he says, scratching behind her ears before he bends down and gives her little head a kiss. "Where's Sal huh?" he looks over at the cat bed where, if he squints, he thinks he can just make out the the lump of black cat curled up in it.

"Meow," Gee says, clearly answering his question.

"Shh, we gotta be quiet okay? We don't want to wake them." She purrs when he scratches under her chin before pulling away.

The door to the bedroom is left slightly ajar, James squeezing in and quickly stripping down to his boxers, before he slides under the covers, fitting himself against Regulus's back.

"You're late," Regulus murmurs.

"Sorry, practice went long," he kisses the freckle behind Regulus's ear. He's a little obsessed with it.

"Is Buchanan finally covering his left side?" Regulus asks, and James can't help but laugh, trying to muffle the noise against Regulus's shoulder.

"Half-asleep and you're still giving game notes?"

Regulus makes an indignant "hmrf" noise. "He's clearly the weakest link. And it's such a stupid mistake. Imbécile."

"Well," James says amused, kissing him again. "I'll be sure to tell him that."

"I hope you do." James just hums, nosing at his hair, pulling Regulus closer.

"I mean it."

"I know you do baby."

"UGH," Regulus makes a disgusted noise, turning around in James's arms, now fully awake, James doing his best to hold back his laughter. Even in the dark he can see Regulus glaring.

"Call me baby again and I swear I will end you."

James is openly grinning. "Aw c'mon bab-" the word doesn't even make it out of his mouth before he gets Regulus's pillow in his face. A second later Regulus has rolled them over, straddling James's hips and beating him mercilessly.

"I," smack, "hate," smack, "you!"

James is laughing, eventually pulling the pillow away from Regulus and bucking his hips, causing the other boy to tip forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of James's head, their noses almost brushing.

For a moment they just stay like that, Regulus slightly out of breath. And then James reaches up and tucks one of his curls behind his ear.

"Nah," he whispers. "I don't think you do."

Regulus shakes his head, but a moment later he's kissing James. Body heavy and comfortable on top of him. They stay that way for a long time until Regulus is pliant and sleepy again, slipping off of James and letting him curl around him.

Just before he drifts off to sleep James finds that freckle again, giving it another kiss for good measure. Smiling against Regulus's skin. "I'm your's you know," he says, maybe a little nonsensically. Sleep pulling at his thoughts.

"I know," Regulus whispers back, just as sleepy. "My dickhead."

James laughs.

#choices #soph rambles #jegulus

[bergdorfverse]

Coach Tabby Pillow Bag

Hey everyone, here is one of my favorite bags of this season the Coach Tabby Pillow Bag. I loved the soft & minimalistic shape of this bag and the shades they come in so much so I wanted to create a version for Sims 4. I hope you will enjoy 💞 

You will get:

30 Swatches 2 Hand Placements ( L & R ) 2 Shoulder Placements ( Long Strap & Top Handle ) // ( L & R ) 2 Decor Versions All LODs // Disabled for Random // Custom Thumbnail

DOWNLOAD

Conversion // Do not recolor or convert without permission // Do not re-upload

Special thanks to @sashaadebayo for this amazing showcase photo 💕

Base Mesh Credit: 3DMonk

#bergdorfsims #bergdorfverse #bergdorfbags #bergdorfcoach #sims 4 custom content #sims 4 coach #sims 4 bags #sims4 #sims4cc #sims4ccfinds #TS4 #ts4cc #ts4cc clothing #sims 4

[house-of-slayterr]

Let the Games Begin!

@howl-fantasies

Tw: violence

Maggie’s POV:

I woke up to the smell of roses, and I scrunched my brow in confusion. I turned to see a bouquet arranged on my pillow with a not attached to it. Now I must admit, while it was a nice gesture, the flowers weren’t quite up to my standard. Roses had to be perfect. I smiled nonetheless less, pulling the note of the flowers. I noted that the thorns were still attached. Unusual choice.

“Good Morning Sunshine, meet me downstairs, I have a surprise for you.”

I furrowed my brows even further. A surprise from Oswald was never good. Normally he placed out an outfit for me in the mornings he was actually here, but one glance told me that Tabitha had pick out the outfit this morning.

I had to admit, she did have good tatse. I carefully made my way downstairs, weary of what was awaiting me. And my fears grew even more when I saw everyone gathered in the living room. Y/N and Victor were back, Tabitha and Butch were sitting on the ends of the couch, and Oswald stood in front of them with a big smile on his face. I narrowed my eyes.

“Good morning” I announced my presence.

“Ahhh, Maggie, you’re awake!”

Oswald hobbled over to me. He engulfed me in a hug, but noticed when I neglected to hug back.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I don’t like surprises Ozzy, they make me anxious.” I spoke honestly.

“We’ll then my dear, let me show you what we have in store today.”

I saw a smirk grow on Y/N face and I couldn’t help but become more anxious. He placed his hand behind my back and lead me to a room at the far end of house. Everyone followed behind. He flicked on the lights and I instantly recognised the situation in front of me. There was someone strapped to a chair in the Center of the room with a bag over their head.

“We found Wendell” Oswald said cheerful.

I couldn’t help it when my heart sank. As much as I hated this man, it felt wrong to see him so vulnerable. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked back to see Y/N.

“We’ll that’s not the expression I was hoping to see on your face Kitten.”

I sighed.

“It’s just, early. I only just woke up, haven’t even had breakfast yet.” I lied.

“Oh you poor baby.” She jeered.

Victor snickered from his spot next to him.

“I don’t know Love, torture sessions are always better on a full stomach.” He took my side.

I shrugged off Y/N hand.

“Thank you Oswald, really…”

I couldn’t think of a way to get out of this. Letting him get tortured was one thing, but I had an inkling that wasn’t how this was going to go. Y/N definitely had her hand in this, and if she had her way, which she usually did, she’d want me to get personal with this. She’d want me to kill him. I could feel an involuntary shiver crawl up my spine.

“Why don’t you get started without us Oswald.” Butch spoke up. “Tabby and I will take Maggie to get some breakfast. We don’t want her passing out from low blood sugar right?”

Oswald thought on it for a moment before lamenting.

“Yes, of course. My apologises, I just got so excited. I promise not to have too much fun while your gone.” He spoke to me.

“By all means Oswald, you found him, finders keepers.”

I gave him a kiss on the top of his head before following Tabitha out of the room. She pulled me to the side of the hall.

“You were shaking like a leaf in there Sweet Girl, what’s wrong?”

Butch placed a comforting hand on my back, running it up and down my spine. The warmth of it felt nice.

“It’s, it’s just a lot you know. I mean it’s been weeks since it happened, and I don’t even remember it. And I wanna be mad, I want to hate him, maybe I fucking do, I don’t know. But what I do know is, I don’t think I’m cut out for this. I don’t mind it when you guys do it, I would never tell you what to do…” I rambled.

I felt a sharp sting on my face, and suddenly realised I’d been slapped.

“Breath Maggie.” Tabitha demanded.

“How the fuck is slapping me supposed to help?” I questioned.

She shrugged.

“Works in the movies.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Look kid. This Wendell guy fucked you up pretty bad, if anything, he deserves what’s about to happen to him. At the end of the day, he’s your target, if you don’t want to be so hands on I’m sure Oswald will understand.”

I sighed heavily.

“Can we talk about this after I eat? I’m sure he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Make me those pancakes again?”

I gave him my best puppy dog eyes, which I’m sure I didn’t even need to use. He chuckled, lifting me up and throwing me over his shoulder. He carried me into the kitchen and I laughed Rey whole way there.

“There’s the sound we like to hear.” Tabitha purred.

“Yeah yeah, no more grumpy serious me today. I get it.”

“Everything’s about you today Maggie. I hope you know that everyone in this house, in one way or another, cares about you a hell of a lot.” Butch said.

“I Know, and I appreciate it. I may not understand it, but i don’t really understand a lot of things in Gotham.” I joked.

Tabitha talked me down all of breakfast, calming my nerves. Hurting people who have hurt you should be easy. But something about this whole situation felt off. Sure we’d bickered back and forth for a while now, but I never imagined Wendell would actually attempt to kill me. It like he knew Y/N was always around to stop him. But maybe that was the point, maybe he was hiding his time until she was busy. No matter how much I tried to remember I just couldn’t imagine it.

“You ready to go back? Oswald will have my head if we don’t return.”

“Wouldn’t want you to lose that now would we?” I teased.

Butch rolled his eyes. I reached out my hand going that ‘grabby’ motion that toddlers did and he looked at me confused. But he walked closer none the less and that’s when I planned my attack. I jumped on his back and wrapped my arms around him.

“Onward my noble steed!” I laughed out in a huff.

I frowned when he didn’t move.

“Oh come on! You get to pick me up and carry me around whenever you please, but when I wanna be carried it’s a no?” I pouted.

“She’s got a point Darling.” Tabitha said, stealing the last pancake from my abandoned plate and shoving it in her mouth.

“Fine, by you owe Tabs and I another movie night. No falling asleep this time, no matter how adorable you are.” He mumbled the last part.

I chose for his sake to ignore it.

“Fuck yes! I’m gonna me you watch My Blood Valentine and you’re gonna love it!”

“My Bloody what?”

“Is that a threat or a promise Bunny?” Tabitha asked.

“Both.” I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Fascinating.” She ruffled my hair.

We made our way back to the usually abandoned, but now very busy wing of the house. I hopped of his back before we made it the door. I didn’t want anyone to question my newfound closeness to the two assassins. Oswald would throw a monumental fit if he’d found out what we’d done at his club.

I had heard stories about Oswald’s Wrath, but I’d yet to see it in action. And boy was it terrifying. He had this intensity about him when he was focused, and I was glad I had yet to fall victim to it. The sight of him standing there, holding a bat and covered in blood sent shivers down my spine. But I pushed ahead like this was your average Tuesday, and I supposed to the people in the room it was.

“Oh Maggie, you’ve come to join us!” Oswald exclaimed.

He calmly handed off the Bat to Y/N. I locked eyes with her for a moment, and I swear I saw a hint of guilt. It was so subtly, and happened so quickly, that it was more likely I’d imagined it. She tortured people all the time, why would this be any different. I mean she’d literally shot him the first time I met him.

“So, what do you think? Would you like to take a crack at him?” He asked, gleefully.

I knew better than to say no to Oswald, but I just couldn’t get myself in the right mindset right now. Torturing someone was a lot.

“Maybe I could just watch for right now?” I suggested.

Tabitha seemed to notice my reservation and she gave me a soft smile from across the room. She took a pointedly deep breath while looking at me, which I gratefully mimicked.

“I dont exactly know what I’m doing.” I clarified.

Y/N spoke up this time.

“We’ll than why don’t you watch the master at work?”

Before my attention was even fully on her, a loud Whack sounded through the room. The sound of the bat hitting his rib cage echoed in my ears in and cringed. It was quickly followed by the sound of Victors laughter. I watched as she handed him the bat and walked over to the metal table beside where Wendell was placed. She reached for a pair of pliers and grabbed them with vigour. Wendell squirmed as she walked back over to him, seemingly knowing what was to come.

“What finger should I start with Kitten?” She asked.

I sighed heavily. I had to pick an answer or she’d make this worse for everyone involved.

“Trigger finger.” I tried to keep my tone bored and disinterested.

“Excellent choice!” She said with a smirk.

I watched as she clamped the pliers down on his finger.

“You’d do well to scream for me, won’t you boy?” She taunted. “Oh wait, you can’t, not with that rag in your mouth.”

It was like watching her kick a puppy. Granted a very violent and deranged puppy. But something about this whole situation felt off. He didn’t look like a man who was guilty, at least not of the crime he was being tried for. He looked genuinely scared, and hell, I would be too.

She began to wiggle the pliers, twisting them both side to side and up and down. I watched as his nail lifted at the edges, the red starting to build up. With a glance at me, she ripped them towards her with force and a strangled cry left his mouth. Though it sounded more like a gargle. I couldn’t stop myself from flinching, but I had just hoped no one had noticed. This went on until his right hand was fingernail-less. She let out a sigh and turned to Victor.

“I’m bored. He’s boring.”

It was like watching a lightbulb go off in her head.

“But you, Kitten, aren’t boring.” She handed me the pliers.

I glared at her before rolling my eyes. She really was a sadistic creep sometimes. But it suited her well. Tabitha seemed to also perk up at this, drawing closer, but not too close as to cause suspicion.

“It’s really simple, just twist and pull, even a baby could do it.” Y/N explained.

‘Patronise me again and I’ll rip off your fingernails’ I thought.

I finally approached Wendell, crouching down to look him in the eyes. But I didn’t see what I expected. I mean the anger was there, that was obvious. But he seems genuinely terrified, I guess it didn’t feel good to be on the other end of this. But I also saw distrust, and confusion in his eyes. It was confusing, it’s why I never liked to look at peoples eyes for too long. They told you everything you needed to know, they were so personal. But I guess this was personal.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before clamping down in a fingernail on the left hand. I honestly wasn’t even sure which one I picked, and I didn’t much care. With one more deep breath I copied Y/N’s earlier movements but much quicker, ripping the nail from his skin. It was an odd sensation to be sure. I quickly discarded the nail in the trash and handed off the pliers back to her.

“Oh come on princess , I know you can do better than that” Victor said.

I pushed past him, walking over to the table of tools. I ran my hands over a few of them, before I felt a soft wood. It felt nice compared to all the cold metal. An ice pick. Without hesitation I walked back over to Wendell. I locked eyes with Victor and blindly stabbed into Wendell’s hand.

“There, you happy?”

“Very” he smiled at me.

I nodded my head toward Wendell, singling at Victor to have his go ahead. He gleefully walked over to the trembling man. I turned around to see Tabitha smiling at me, but Butch’s eyebrows were scrunched in confusion. I just shrugged. I walked over to Oswald and he pulled me into a side hug.

“How did it feel? You know, I’m very proud of you Maggie.”

“Proud?”

“Not many people would actually be brave enough to hurt their abuser back. You did well. I knew you had some fire in you.” He complimented.

I chuckled dryly. It was odd, to have someone be happy that I’d just stabbed some. I bent down to whisper in his ear.

“Would you- would you mind if I had a moment alone with him?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“Please, Ozzy. I just, I need to hear him say it, I need to hear him say what he did to me. You’ll be right outside the door, I’ll scream if I need you.” I begged.

He nodded solemnly.

“Ten minutes, not a second more.”

“Victor!” He shouted suddenly.

The madman in question stopped what he was doing, and it was now I noticed Wendell was entirely missing a finger. It took everything in me to to let out the most disappointed sigh I had ever had.

“Step away from the Victim, little Maggie here wants some time with him.”

He looked toward the door and everyone seemed to catch his drift. Butch placed a gentle hand on my shoulder before leaving. I smiled up at him. The second I heard the door shut I rushed forward to the man in the chair.

“I’m gonna be blunt, if I take of this gag and you scream, I’ll call Victor back in her to cut out your tongue, got it?”

He nodded. I slowly removed the gag, testing him.

“You fucking bitch” he hissed.

I slapped him across the face.

“We don’t have time for insults right now. Somethings wrong here, and I can’t pinpoint it. And I’d feel pretty fucking bad if I let them kill you before I figure this out.”

“What game are you playing? You know I didn’t do anything to you!”

“Actually that’s the thing Wendell. I don’t. I don’t remember that night, or that week for that matter. You did threaten me last time we spoke, it wouldn’t be unreasonable for you to come back and try to finish the job.”

“If I wanted you dead, you would be, here untie me and I’ll show you.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Did you, or did you not torture me?”

“No. I didn’t.”

“And you’re aren’t lying to me right now?”

“No. I’m not. I had a hit on the other side of town, Barbara Kean ordered it, talk to her, she’s my alibi.”

“I Will. Why would someone set you up? Who wants you dead?”

“Half the fucking city Little Girl, this is Gotham, everyone wants everyone dead.”

“Shame, you could have been more useful. Clocks ticking Wendell, talk, or don’t, I don’t really care at this point.”

I tried to be nonchalant to see if that would make him talk, but much to my dismay it didn’t. When that didn’t work, I switched up my tactic.

“Look, they’re gonna come back in here and I won’t be able to stop them from what they’re about to do.”

“Please, you have them wrapped so tightly around those fingers of yours, they’d do anything for you.”

“If you really think that, you’re delusional. Liek you said, this is Gotham. And if they don’t want me dead yet, I’m gonna do everything in my power to keep it that way. It’s that simple.”

“Good to see you aren’t as naive as I thought you were. You’ve grown since our last real encounter.”

“It appears I have… oppps, times up.” I said. “Sorry about this.”

“Sorry about wh-“

I shoved the gag back into his mouth. As I heard the door click I picked up the knife and plunged it into his shoulder, carful to avoid any major arteries.

“You stupid Bastard!”

I played up my role. I mean I did want to stab him, even if I find out he isn’t lying, he’s still not a friend. It was easy to make my emotions believable, for the tears I just thought back to the day Moira was killed in front of us, and for the rage I just imagined I was stabbing Slade. I felt strong arms around me pulling me back.

“Shhh, it’s ok, just breath Maggie, can you do that for me?”

It was Butch. I could feel eyes on us but I didn’t much care. If this was the worst thing they suspected me of, being friends with Butch, then it worked out in my favour.

“I hate him!” I cried.

I threw my arms over Butch’s shoulder, engulfing him into a hug.

“Ew” I heard Victor say.

Then a smack sounded through the air and I knew Y/N had slapped him. Despite not looking at him, I could feel Oswald shaking with rage.

“We should get rid of this leech!” He shouted. “Nobody makes Maggie cry!”

“Just say the word Boss.” Victor said with boredom in his tone. 

I heard the click of Victors gun and I flinched.

“No wait!” I shouted.

I pushed myself away from Butch and locked eyes with Victor.

“Don’t kill him.”

“Why not?”

“Yes, Little one, why shouldn’t we kill him? That cute little heart of yours is getting in the way. Turn it off.” Y/N suggested.

“There’s nothing wrong with having a heart, Y/N. But that’s not what I mean. Killing him would be too easy. I don’t care what you do with him, just don’t kill him.”

Y/N clasped her hands together over her mouth, being her smile. But Victor broke out in a full grin.

“I knew I trained you well Kitten.” She complimented.

“You heard her.” Oswald ordered.

I turned back around and sunk my face back into Butch’s neck. I had to admit, his scent was addicting. No wonder Tabitha was in love with this gentle giant. He held me close. Tabitha stroked my hair from above.

“Why don’t we go bake something?” Oswald asked me.

It was clear he was trying to cheer me up. I shook my head.

“Do you want to watch that movie you were talking about earlier?” Tabitha suggested.

I again shook my head. I finally pulled back to look at the trio.

“I think I just wanna take a nap.” I concluded.

“I’ll walk you to your room.” Oswald said.

“No, I just wanna be alone right now.” I concluded.

“Alright. I don’t like seeing you sad like this” Oswald relented.

I offered him a weak smile.

“Naps make things all better.” I joked.

I bid everyone a goodbye, Y/N and Vic paying no attention to me as they went to work on Wendell. The idiot should have spoke up when he had the chance. Everything was so blurry and so confusing right now. Before I knew it I let my feet Cary me all the way back to my apartment. The lock was still broken so I pushed my way through the door. I threw myself onto my bed, screaming into the pillow to release what was left of my pent up frustration. Oswald would be mad but I could deal with that later, the threat had been subdued.

That’s when I felt it, something was in my bed. I flailed my arm around until I heard a thunk. I’m confusion I raised my head from the pillow, finally taking a deep breath I wasn’t even aware I was holding in. There on my bed was a book. I sat up and flipped it over on my hands. My eyes widened, it was stunning. I opened it up and note fell out.

“Dear Maggie, I enjoyed our spontaneous visit the other day. I thought a lot about what you said about my taste in literature, and you were right. I am too predictable. So I read some of your favourites, and I’d love to discuss them sometime. But it felt a waste to just put this book back on my shelf to collect dust, I figured you’d cherish it more then I could. See you soon, your friend, Bruce Wayne.”

I couldn’t help the squeal that bubbled in my throat. God why did this kid have to be so adorable. Everything he did was so pointed and thoughtful. It made me have hope for the future of this god forsaken town. A book club did sound fun. I’d have to write him back. I took a moment to study the book thoroughly. The cover was stunning, and it seemed to be a rare combined copy fo Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking glass. But it was the back of the front cover that caught my attention.

“Twinkle twinkle little bat, how I wonder where you’re at! Up above the world you fly, like a tea-tray in the sky!” - Lewis Carroll

I froze. It was his actual signature. I was holding a signed copy of Alice in Wonderland. I was glad nobody could see me “fangirling” right now because I’d be incredibly embarrassed. I hugged the book tightly and fell back onto my bed. Emotionally I was exhausted.

“What an odd poem” I spoke out loud, to no one in particular.

I fell asleep with the book in my hands. Dreaming of places with redder roses.

An: Alice in wonderland is genuinely one of my favourite books of all time. I’ve been obsessed with it since I could read. So it’s obvious I love Jervis Tetch very very much!

#gotham oc #magnolia blossom #maggie #gotham #victor zsasz #gotham imagine #victor zsasz imagine #oswald cobblepot #tabitha galavan #butch gilzean #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #alice in wonderland #through the looking glass #classic literature

[dinogoofy]

Erron black/F! Reader

Old friend.

This one took a little bit, sorry if it's not quite as quality as my other fics!

MAJOR TW for Guns, threats, and Kano being a dick to precious puppies.

You and Erron black had grown up together. Two kids brought closer by horrible lives. Sharing the scraps of food you had with each other. Ranting about awful parents, ranting about school. In your teenage years, you were the one to patch him up after fights. He was the one to beat the shit out of your bullies. The two of you hated that town and everyone in it. You used to think the two of you would stay as thick as thieves forever. Your paths only split when you wanted to live a normal life. Live the peaceful, country way you had seen so many others do, but never grew up with yourself. Erron, however, only wanted money, glory. He wanted to take the back roads and do all the things normal folks wouldn't dare to get his fill. 

You didn't understand his choice to be a mercenary, but it wasn't your choice to make for him. Whatever life he wanted to have was good enough for you as long as he made it out of that shitty town. He didn't contact you much. He only really showed up on your doorstep when he was dying and needed someone to patch him up. But at least he was coming to see you, right? 

With a sigh you stepped into your little country home, smiling slightly at the immediate sounds of your fur babies running to meet you. A blur of orange fur rushing to thread between your legs and trip you, while your sweet pound mutt waited patiently for you to set your keys on the key rack. 

"Hey boys." Chester meowed at you rather loudly, only to take off when you leaned down to pet him. The crazy feline darting under Archie's body as he happily waited for his own pets. It was easy to smile at the warm welcome, immediately a little more relaxed after finally getting home. You stretched at the door, setting your bag down to head into the kitchen.

The first thing you settled on was giving your boys their long-awaited scoops of food, both of them sat down neatly next to each other. Only Archie waited for your go-ahead, Chester already digging in by the time you gave him a laughing "Ok, Archie." 

You patted your mutt before taking some leftovers out, eyes catching on the printed photo of you and Erron from senior year. It's been a few months since last he came to visit. The thought made you a little sad. But the memory of the photo gave you a nostalgic, happy feeling. With an arm slung around his shoulders, and a goofy look on your face, Erron was the complete opposite of you. The goof pretended to be annoyed at your antics, but you could see the slight smile at the corner of his lips.

"Come on! Just one photo. It's not like it's going to kill you, Erron."

"It's not going to kill me, no. But I might end up killing you."

"Pfft- yeah right."

Your smile grew a bit wider. You sat down at the table alone as you finished your dinner. Erron had always been a strange one. Always tough, trying to be unfeeling. Not wanting anyone to be close. Not wanting any affection besides the one-night stands and the women he infatuated. Always the one to flirt, but never with you.

No. Not ever with you. You smirked. He always acted differently around you. More nervous, more fidgety. You'd been in love with him since before you even knew what love truly was. And you had known for years that he loved you back. You had just been waiting for him to admit it. You'd scoffed at yourself time and time again for not making the first move, but Erron wasn't ready for that. You didn't think he was, at least. You just wished he had gotten therapy like you had asked him to.

The scraping of your fork against your plate was your only indication that you had finished eating, you definitely spaced out a bit. You always did when you thought of Erron. Maybe he would visit soon. Maybe you should stop thinking that to make yourself feel better. 

The plate clicked lightly against the floor when you set it down for Archie to lick before you set it in the sink. By the time you turned off all the lights and headed to bed Chester was already asleep on your pillow, Archie curled up in his own bed next to the nightstand. You moved the orange tabby slightly to the side so you could lay down, and he yelled in protest the way that annoyed kitties do. It was easy to slip into a comfortable sleep with your boys next to you. 

The sound of your sweet Archie growling a feral warning was what woke you up that night. You shot out of bed, ripping off the covers and grabbing the shotgun from under your mattress. Archie never growls. An unhinged bark sent a jolt of panic through you, along with Chester, who woke up to sprint under your bed and hide. Archie certainly never barked. Not like that. Not in that way. Something was wrong. You clicked off the safety and cocked the shotgun.

You moved slowly at first, creeping your way over to the sound of Archie's growls, but when he let out a sharp whine, your vision went white-hot with rage. 

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY DOG!" You shouted, finally turning the corner and into the living room where two figures lurked. The lamp was still on, and as your eyes adjusted you could make out the masked face of Erron, and the form of some asshole looming over Archie with your baby backed into a wall. 

Erron didn't respond at all at the sight of you. The unknown figure by your dog stood up slowly and whistled.

"You did say she was a feisty one." You scowled, keeping the gun pointed squarely on the man.

"Erron. I don't know why you're fucking here, but please tell me you don't know this asshole so I can just shoot him." Erron rolled his eyes at you. The figure laughed, moving away from Archie, who sprinted over to you so that he could cower behind your legs. Your eyes were trained on the figure as he proceeded to sit in your own fucking armchair.

"Name's Kano. Leader of the black dragon." The black dragon. The group of mercenaries that Erron had joined. Why the fuck did Erron bring this guy into your home. Erron called your name.

"Set the gun down, sugar." You didn't take your eyes off of Kano. 

"Respectfully, Erron, I don't think I will." Kano laughed, but you didn't think anything was funny. Erron called your name again, strutting over to you carelessly. Archie growled as he got closer. He set a hand on the gun, pushing it down.

"Calm. Down." You huffed but gave in. Sending your friend a nasty look as you lowered your defense. Erron wouldn't willingly let you be in danger. There's no way he would. You had to remember that.

"We came here for some help. 'Know that cave at the edge of your property?" The cave? You found it when you had just moved in, part of an old interlocking set of mining tunnels carved out of the land in the early 1900s. When you checked it out at first, it was Erron who actually went with you. You had a fond memory of fucking around in the tunnel, only to find an old elevator next to a dead-end tunnel with bloody handprints and markings that trailed across the wall and into the elevator. That was enough to get the two out of there. What would they want with it?

"What about it?"

"Those runes we found in it match what a client is looking for. We just want to check it out, and get outa' you're way." You laughed, glancing between Kano, who was currently putting a cigarette out on your favorite chair- and Erron, who still stood next to you in an almost defensive manner.

"Am I supposed to believe that there's no catch to this? No killer secrets? No blackmail?" Kano snickered, standing from his chair and walking over to you. You stood strong, but the beating of your heart sped up. You hated feeling afraid.

"The catch is, you show us the cave, and we leave your little buddy here alive." You scowled, and Erron sighed deeply at his boss, knowing already that he had started something.

"First of all, you don't get shit if you threaten my dog, asshole. You piece of human sh-"

"Just think of it as a favor between friends." Erron interrupted. You frowned at his words. His paycheck was definitely depending on it. Your thoughts split In two different ways. One, the fact that he's using your friendship to manipulate you into doing him a favor, two… it felt relieving that he still thought of you as friends. 

You finally gave in, sighing and relaxing almost completely. Archie nuzzles your leg before running off. You turned your head just slightly to watch him out of confusion when a sudden yank catches your attention. Kano had snatched your shotgun straight out of your hands. Erron stiffened next to you.

"I'll take that!" 

"You-!" Erron held out back just as you went to lunge at Kano. You struggled against him for just a moment before he gave you a bit of a push to set you back. What had gotten into him?!

"Ah ah ah! Sorry, Sheila, there's no way we're gonna let you keep this on you. Erron?" Kano taunted. You went to yell in protest but only yelped, Erron's hands suddenly holding onto your arm.

"Just comply. It'll be over soon." Erron whispered. You grumbled in protest but didn't fight it as they took you from your warm house. 

Kano walked proudly ahead of you and Erron while navigating to the cave. Fucker didn't even know where he was going. You had been scowling the whole time, a surprising feat while Erron was around. Speaking of which, His hand on your arm had softened its hold, but the strangest thing was that he still wouldn't look at you.

"This is your idea of a visit?" You mumbled to him. He shook his head, his heavy steps landing on a twig he forcefully snapped as you walked. He was definitely in a mood.

"This' a business trip, hun. Wouldn't be here if it weren't for that." You snickered.

"Yeah right. You'd end up here eventually." You said the words but didn't quite believe them as you walked. "Don't think you could stay away if you tried."

"-And I tried." You ignored the painful sting in your chest, going silent before shouting another set of directions to Erron's dipshit boss. You could almost feel Erron's gaze change as his eyes remained on you.

"-look, I didn't want you to get caught up in all this. It's bad enough that I'm here now." The words made you frown slightly. You elbowed Erron in the side, trying to make a little light of the situation.

"Better than Kano coming out here by himself." Erron laughed. 

" 'Betcha you'd've killed him the moment he stepped into your house."

"I almost did." You couldn't see Erron's smile through his mask, but the happy look in his eyes was infectious. You couldn't help but blush a bit, walking closer to him. His hold on your arm was loose and comfortable at this point, and you couldn't make yourself break out of it.

"You lovebirds done shit-talking or what?" God, you hated this Kano guy. The rest of the walk was silent. After about 30 minutes of almost tripping on fallen limbs, you finally made it to the cave. 

"Quite a big place for such a little property, huh?" You didn’t respond to Kano. Ignoring him as Erron guided you to walk past him.

"Oh don't be coy. Where'd all that fire go?" Kano was taunting you again, but both you and Erron ignored him this time. Erron spoke over him when he tried to speak a third time.

"Which way d'you go from here?" You laughed.

"You think I know? I try to stay away from this place as much as I can. Haven't been here since you were with me." Erron furrowed his eyebrows, taking a moment to click a flashlight on. He looked around for a moment, before setting out in a direction. Kano followed behind, a little too close to your back for your liking. 

Shivers ran rampant across your skin when you finally found the elevator. Kano pushed past you forcefully, knocking you off balance. Erron caught you with a steady hand around your waist. You relaxed in his touch, and once again pushed forward.

"Ahh! Look at that beauty!" Kano took out a camera, and you flinched at the flash. 

"I'm sure the client won't mind if we keep a few copies of the pictures to ourselves, now would he?" Kano laughed. Being around Erron was nice, but you were losing your patience. It was late, you had work in the morning, and you were just plain tired of this black dragon bullshit. You didn't notice when Erron's arm fell away from yours.

"Look, I showed you the cave. Just give me my gun, and let me go back to bed." Kano snickered at your words, Erron loomed behind you. 

"I don't think you'll be going far." Kano spat on the ground after he spoke, you scowled. 

"Excuse me?" Kano's smile was gritty and disgusting. He whistled at Erron, walking past you with your shotgun held loosely in his grip. You contemplated snatching it, but when you whipped around-

It almost felt like you couldn't breathe. You were staring down the barrel of Erron's pistol for a long moment. 

"Look kid, we can't have someone like you knowing about this cave thing, it's too risky and all that blabber, you understand. You've been such a delightful host and all, but it's time for you to go." Kano laughed.

"Can't tell any divine dipshits about our little meeting if she's dead anyway, now can she Erron?" Erron had never been so out of focus before, his stomach wringing in knots. He hardly knew what to think as he pointed the gun at you, something he'd never thought he'd ever do.

"Hey?" A little voice called out. A little face leaning down to peer at the little boy with his head buried unto his knees. He hardly glanced up. 

"Hi." He had murmured so quietly.

"Do you want to share this sandwich with me? You look lonely."

"Erron?" Your voice quivered. Panic was written all over your face. His finger lingered on the trigger as his chest squeezed.

"Sit still, dumbass." You squeezed his bloodied arm.

"That shit burns!" He hissed out. You laughed at him, dabbing at the large cut he had gotten from some idiot with broken glass on the school grounds.

"Well duh. It's isopropyl alcohol. It's gonna burn like hell." He was cute when he was confused. You laughed. 

"It disinfects the wound, Erron."

"... I knew that. I'm not fucking stupid." He had grumbled.

"Nothin' personal." He finally spoke. The words hurt him as they came out.

"That's not how you use a rifle." Throwing popcorn, at Erron, you quickly stole the remote to turn the volume up.

"Shh! Just shut up and enjoy the movie. Westerns aren't exactly supposed to be realistic."

"Well I can't really enjoy an unrealistic western, can I?- he's holding that wrong-"

Your face started to shift from panic to anger as kano patted Erron's shoulder, walking back into the rickety elevator.

"Panicked now, aren't ya Sheila? Want to beg? Or are you the proud sort?" You snarled at him.

"No." You said stiffly. "No. I want to see you do it, Erron." Kano laughed from the elevator. Erron remained stiff, his smooth voice taking a moment to come out.

"Look, you don't know-"

"I said do it, Erron!" You snapped, stepping closer to the cowboy. He didn't step back, his hand didn't waver. You stepped close enough to him that the barrel of his pistol pressed to your forehead. 

"Go ahead! Be Kano's little lapdog. Shoot me." You spat, the adrenaline working its way into your system. "Shoot me and say goodbye to all the FUCKING years I took care of your ass and bury me in that shitty town we grew up in Erron!" Erron's stone-faced seriousness finally broke, and even though he was wearing a mask you could still see the rage in his eyes as he grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and forcefully yanked you closer to him. He kept the gun pressed to the side of your head.

"Do you have any idea who you're provoking? You. don't. know me. anymore. Sugar. You don't have any idea what I'm capable of!" You let out a curt laugh.

"You and I both know I still do." You snarled. Both of you went silent, the tension crackling between the two of you. You could see the panic that hid under the steely overlaying emotion in his eyes. Only Kano's ongoing childish taunts remained.

"Well then, Erron? Get on with it!" Erron's stiff posture remained, he spoke to Kano, but his eyes remained on yours. 

"Fuck off Kano." Kano didn't take that well.

"Excuse me? I'm your boss, dipshit. You can't just-" All of a sudden, Erron pushes you back, reels around, and shoots through the spaces in the old metal elevator, the bullet hits the back of the wall, and ricochets through the old, decaying pulley rope that held it up. Kano looks up in horror and rage. His screaming and cursing faded as the elevator launched down and crashed to the very bottom of the mine.

All is silent. All that can be heard is your labored breathing from all the shouting and adrenaline.

"Still want me to shoot you?" Erron asks. Speaking smug words with a tone only you could recognize as him trying to hide his panic. You scowled again. Walking over to him with tears stinging at the corner of your eyes.

"You're such a fucking asshole!" You shouted, punching him in the shoulder. Erron didn't flinch.

"And?" You couldn't stop the tears now. All the pain, and heartbreak, and sadness rushing out at once. You weekly hit his shoulder one more time, and grappled him into a hug, burying your face into his chest without being able to stop your sobs. Erron stood stiff. After a moment, his arms slid around your waist, and he held you back tightly.

"Kano's gonna kill you for that." You laughed through the tears. Erron didn't respond. His hand left your side for only a moment, and when it held onto again he had taken off his mask, letting it drop to the floor. Erron buried his face into your hair, holding you a bit tighter than before. 

It was quiet again. Erron squirmed after a moment.

"...I wouldn't have buried you in that town." You snorted, not taking your face out of his chest, biting your nails into the fabric of his shirt just a bit.

"So you admit you would've shot me?" Erron didn't react to the words. He only sighed into your hair, lifting a hand to pinch your ear. You pulled yourself out of his chest with a laugh, and his hands settled on your waist. You wiped your tears, your nose, and tried to make yourself a little better. It didn't really work. Erron could see that. He lifted a calloused hand to your cheek anyway.

"Just because you've come to your fucking senses doesn't mean I'm not still mad." You sniffled, smiling still as the bitter words fell out of your mouth.

"Yeah, well you should be. Kano was being an asshole anyway. That's the only reason I let you go." Erron coughed, you raised an eyebrow at him, clearly not buying it. He rolled his eyes, huffing through his nose.

"... Maybe not the only reason." The smile returned to your face, and you rolled your eyes at him this time. At this point, it was almost like he didn't realize it himself.

"God, you're really not fooling anyone, dumbass." Erron scowled, about to retort when you decided, Fuck it. And clutched his face to pull him into a kiss. He didn't respond at first, stiff and uneasy.  Always so stubborn. After a second or two though, he melted into your lips, pulling you closer. It was hard to hold on to all your anger when he was just so kissable. He'd get his ass beaten for this little stunt. You would make sure of that, but right now all you wanted to focus on was the relieving kiss you had waited so long for.

#mk erron black #erron black x reader #erron black imagine #erron black reader insert #mortal kombat x reader #mk imagine