#a little behind but I WOULD LIKE THE LOCATION OF THE BOY PLEASE

[hxltic]

pt.2!! (i know that cliffhanger was menacing) 800 followers hello?!

part 1 | part 2

It was weird. It felt weird.

You sat with your chest bare, Kenma contemplating his own conscientiousness and conscious before you. Should he have any integrity, he would turn you around and fulfill what you came to do.

But he doesn’t. Intrusive thoughts win, so he dives straight into you to suck on your tits like a fucking baby.

Just watching in amusement as he tugged and nipped, it looked like Kenma was genuinely enjoying himself when he licked the bud in a single stripe, cat eyes gazing into yours devilishly by the way he could feel your back has a slight arch to it. His pale hands roamed from the small of it to your shoulder blades.

Your manicured fingers tread through the black locks that cover his tinted cheeks and reveal his long, black eyelashes. You mentally curse him for having them. Your upper back begins to stray away; Kenma just follows.

You connect strands of hair behind his ear (which he greatly appreciates you for) because he needs to see you, your curves, and body in all the bright rainbow light from the edges of his setup.

He removes the slim shirt entirely and discards it randomly in the room. He couldn’t care less where it landed. He grasps—literally grasps— both tits in each hand before looking up at you ordinarily, but in an anticipating manner.

“Take the rest of it off.”

“Say please,” you announced. Yes, you asked first, but you could still have a little fun (and refresh his manners).

“You do realize you’re literally in my hands right?“

“…So?”

He just blinks up at you and rolls his eyes in obduracy.

“Please, take the rest of it off.”

You tap a fingernail to your chin, “Hmm… say it like you mean it.”

If you could describe the ravenette’s face right now, it would be the most unamused you’ve ever seen him.

Kenma grabs you and roughs you off him, twists you ‘round, and adroitly unbuttons your jeans from behind you. Done with your shit, he peels them down and brings your panties along. He then pulls you back down to him backwards.

“See? Easy peasy,” he comments.

Slightly embarrassed from being absolutely manhandled, you shuffled against his front and dug your head into his sweatshirt on his left shoulder.

“Are you shy now? Not too long ago you were asking me to—”

“Shut up- Shut up.”

A giggle sounds behind you and lengthy, soft fingers trail up to your plush thighs anyway, then leads more inward. He pats twice to ask you to open up for him. You comply in spite.

With two delicate fingers he spreads you open, a third experimenting by dipping into your wetness. You were already getting throbbing having thought about it all day. Your friends constantly conversed about what their partners did and how good it felt, so you want as close to that as possible, but the problem is that you’re doing it while being unaware of how skilled Kenma actually is. You’re starting to question whether he was the right person or not. Or whether it holds up to its name. Or if you can do it at all.

He caresses you, rubbing the pad of his finger in circular motions against your clit.

“Okay,” his chest rises and falls, “just relax and think about whatever boy toy you want.”

You ignore his taunting. Your eyes trail downwards. He was going so slow, but if you thought you’d have Kenma pawing at you by the end of the night you had to be on something. So, you do what he asks of you and shut down any tense nerve in your body.

“There you go,” as you soften against his front, now two of his fingers locate your nub and continue the circling. Your thighs are spread apart on each chair arm, facing the dark idle screensaver Kenma had, the plush actively being kneaded between his free hand. Your center was tingly but not the trademark “oh my god!” tingly. It felt good but you weren’t screaming just yet.

Almost in time, he curls his hand farther forward and dips a finger into you. It was very slowly done for reactive purposes, and with your sight deactivated, the reaction he expected from your chest was granted. He sinks deeper and deeper until his palm is flat against you. Thanks to his patience, you were definitely wet enough.

He stills inside.

“I can’t do anything if you won’t breathe.”

“Sorry,” you apologized, and let out a breath you had no idea you were holding. His thumb reddens your clit even more while the other hand releases your thigh and slides up your body to tighten on your breast. You feel used with his hands all over your body, but in a good way.

Your regular breaths graduated to heavy ones, and those graduated to groans. Your voice wasn’t very high pitched anyway. When does the good part come?

The inactive hand rotated to your clit, while the other focused mainly on gyrating through your walls. His long finger reached places yours couldn’t, and adding a second would only increase the chance of him finding that single pile of nerves that could make you go haywire. He was close but he didn’t think to resort to that just yet.

Two of his hands meet around your front like a hug. His articulated digits roll inside you, each roll a tug on your resistance. A little to the left or a little to the right. His hand curled somehow even deeper on the hunt for your g-spot, so he takes a mental note: up and to the right.

“Oh shit,” your hips slightly stutter.

He smiles, “Right there?” and pesters the previous patch. Your hips lift off him the tiniest bit and your hand reaches up mindlessly. Really you just needed something to occupy yourself. He goes at it again and again, your tummy folded yet moving with him as he’s still going too slow when your body is screaming for more.

You rub his nape in an attempt to focus on anything else. Your arm is geniusly wrapped between the two of you by journeying under his neck. Your reflection in the screen is unbeatable, Kenma working you like it was his millionth time doing it. Everything had a job and you just had to sit and take it.

“That’s definitely you,” he mused. He kissed under your ear on the right side. You could say you weren’t feeling much all you wanted, attempting to lower his ego, but your contorted expression spoke differently with inaudible words. At some point his speed increased.

You unintentionally grind on him as your hips falter halfway. He tries his best to ignore it and keep your high ecstasy going because it was: A, the meaning of this entire operation; B, you’d be sore anyway, better to make the best out if it; and C, had he acted on it you would’ve squirted all over his dick. Which option C isn’t necessarily a problem, it’s just he’s almost certain you’d like to see yourself do it.

“Feels good Ken,” you mumble. The squelch sound could now be heard, and you both listened as he slotted himself in the crook of your neck and your head was thrown back on his shoulder. It was dead silent in the apartment, so silent you could hear your own thoughts and maybe even each other’s.

It sure seemed that way, because Kenma persisted with a finger and stimulated you simultaneously. Your head rolled back and forth, your calves flexed, and your pretty pink toes hung off the chair arms. The clip in your hair hadn’t bothered him one bit.

“Kenmaaa,” you insisted.

“I’m here, tell me,” he indulged. Your breaths were practically weights, yet shallow at the same time.

“Gonna come soon.”

“I got you. Just let it happen.”

Kenma knew you were close before you did. Hell, he was a part of your body now. Obvious signs were shown like when you tighten around him and your muscles contract, informing him everything was already in motion. The orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, taking you and your brain out to sea, but not your body. In fact, it left your disappointment behind too.

Nothing happened.

It took you a second to realize this though— considering it was still one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had—but also because Kenma hadn’t stopped.

“Please,” unaware of what you were calling for, you turned to his face, but he was already so close like he was waiting for you there. He’d slowed only a bit, but this makes little difference already being hypersensitive. Once again, you’re grinding on him, it’s just rougher now and more effective at getting him any harder than he already was.

You talked face to face and couldn’t decide what eye to look in. His lips were so close, and so very inviting. You kiss him.

Soft lips unite with yours meaningfully. You hadn’t known it would progress to this, however, Kenma now occupies your entire body, being, and mind. If you could dismiss how hard he was overstimulating you, just maybe you could kiss him with the passion you desired—but that was reaching because you couldn’t find the strength to kiss him back at all. Your lips were open yet hushed in all attempts to return the gesture, but your body fails you under the hands of lust.

You felt another coming. Your eyes had this faded look to them as if you weren’t here, so Kenma brought it upon himself to whisper to you.

“Tell me what you want and it’s yours.” His voice was soft in the air.

You respond with a light headed moan. Fuck all that shit about your voice not being high and you couldn’t pornstar moan, because to some extent it was and you really could.

“K-Ken I can’t—“

“You can,” he interrupts, “anything you want baby.”

Your hand quits fidgeting with the loomed bracelets adorning his wrists to move down to holding the both of his that were working you. The attempt is futile, because even if you did manage to get one hand away, the other would still be toying with your pussy. The veins that stretched from his muscles all the way to his forearm could be seen clear as day. Kenma adds another finger, and doubles into you as it sinks up and to the right.

“Oh fuck, Kenma, Kenma-“ you repeated. You tried pushing him off, except you wanted him to continue, except that you were in no state of mind to make decisions. Your back arched impressively and you were on the verge of crying. This quick?

He constantly acknowledges you, “Uh-huh.”

Kenma almost triples in speed. He continues to whisper to you. “Do it. I know you can. Show me how you come for me.”

You don’t feel it, but Kenma plants his feet and swivels the chair around as your mouth drops. You were pushing outward more than downward, and as Kenma pistons into you, there was no way you weren’t about to squirt. Just preferably, not on his monitor. He kisses at your face now turned away from him. “Just like that, you’re almost there. Open your eyes.”

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god-!” you breathe.

Kenma quickly runs back and forth over your clit encouragingly and doesn’t let up. This wasn’t a wave that rolled over you this time, but one that came up to shore first, dragged you along into sea, and sucked you under. It felt normal until it didn’t and you were releasing all over his carpet.

“You look so fucking good like this. Knew my girl could do it.”

Your hair was fucked from rolling on it. You had came so hard your body tensed and slightly cramped, rendering you idle as he continued until you were done. The clear liquid rolled down your own leg. You felt as if you were underwater. Your head bashed like there was no oxygen. Kenma was a man of few words but after you got what you deserved, he didn’t have shit to say.

He gripped your thighs, lifted them, and slowly lowered them to his. A darker color stained his sweats. Was it from you, or him? Neither of you know. His hand pets your forehead gingerly.

“Your girl?” You ask lazily.

“I think we both know you wouldn’t have let anybody else do this,” he establishes. He was right.

sorry if it’s not as good as first!! it was supposed to come out earlier but my dumbass queued it for the wrong day 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ also did you catch the easter egg😏😏 (I made this a little shorter to match up with the time it takes to…yk… that’s why all of my fics that aren’t penetration are shorter)

@iwouldbangchan @hislaevv @butterflyk04 @lilmisskreideprinz @ahahadumbo @bontensbabygirl @ninefuckingoneone @hwangsyunho @privthemis @anonymoussimper @frenchinator2sickk

#haikyuu!! #haikyū!! #haikyuu headcanons #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu hcs #god i want him so bad #kenma hcs #kenma headcanons #kenma scenario #kenma imagine #kenma x y/n #kenma smut #kenma #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #hq kenma #kenma x you #haikyuu kenma #kenma x reader

[st4rr-girrl]

Saviors

summary; When you have nowhere to stay- and you're falling tired- you turn to the Crescent Hotel to sleep. You roomed next to four people, and they help you when something traumatic happens in your hotel room.

warnings: Cussing, hella paranormal activity, major? injuries, anxiety attack. (i changed a few things from the video tho)

(a/n this post is kind of ass and yall keep liking it so ilysm but this is so shitty lmaoo i promise my writing had a glow-up)

pairing: colby brock x fem reader

Now playing; see how I circle / labyrinth

Up next; oblivion -grimes

Genesis-grimes

The sky started to darken, mirroring my negative mood. I sighed, feeling fatigue slowly start to take over my body.

Turning my black car's driving wheel, I drove into the 'Crescent Hotel" parking lot. I sighed, stepping out of the car and opening the trunk.

I grabbed an outfit, and shoved it into a bag before grabbing my purse and locking the car up.

I glanced up at the balcony of a room, seeing a dark figure stare at me intensely. My eyes widened and I felt goosebumps form on my skin.

The night was dark and cold, forcing a shiver make its way up my spine. I crossed my arms over my chest, as I shivered in my white dress. I approached the hotel doors, and quickly made my way inside, protecting myself from the cold misty air that surrounded me.

I walked in, feeling a heavy amount of energy fall onto my shoulders. I frowned deeply, before spotting an adorable black cat seated on the couch. I walked up to it and pet its soft fur, feeling my heart become warm. A smile grew on my face as I temporarily forgot about the dark, sad and longing feeling that lingered in the air, before walking up to the front desk.

"Hi, can I get a room for one night, please?" I offered a kind smile to the lady seated behind the counter. She returned the smile, and handed me a room key. 'Room 201'

"You'll be staying at room 201. That'll be 130$." My eyes widened at the price, but I was desperate for sleep. I opened my purse and grabbed my wallet, pulling out 150$.

"Keep the change." I smiled, collecting my stuff before heading up the spiraled stairs.

I was walking down a hallway, when I heard a faint "Damn baby! Back it up on over here, if ya will." In an accent. I turned around, fear gripping onto my chest. There was nobody there. I was completely alone. I frowned deeply, before rushing back to the stairs.

It took me a while, but I finally made it to my hotel room. I sighed happily, despite the feeling of sadness surrounding me.

I noticed a brunette boy leaving hotel room 202 and I smiled kindly at him. He returned the smile, as my eyes wandered to the camera located in his left hand. I tilted my head and raised a brow a little bit.

"Oh. I'm sorry." He laughed. "I'm a youtuber. Me and my friends are recording a video."

I was still confused. "What's so special about this place?" I looked around. I acknowledged the negative and sad energy around me, but shrugged it off.

"You don't know?" He asked me curiously.

"Know what?" I was a lot more confused now.

"This hotel is haunted." My eyes widened. it makes sense now. The figure on the balcony and the sad energy around here. No wonder.

"That makes sense." I shrugged, rubbing my hands up and down my arms.

"Why? Did you see something?" He asked me, concern swirling behind his blue eyes.

"Yeah I saw a figure on a balcony, but i just thought it was a person. Though it was creepy enough to give me goosebumps. It also feels sad. And angry here. Like there some sort of longing feeling. I also got catcalled by something that wasn't there. " I explained, giggling a bit at the end.

"Do you mind if i record you explaining that? If not that's alright. But it would be great to let the fans know."

"Sure, Mr. Popular." I smirked teasingly. He rolled his eyes playfully and turned on the camera and angled it at me.

"Okay so tell us what happened again...?" He trailed, searching for something.

"Y/n." I smiled.

"Okay so tell us what happened, Y/n."

"Soo, when I arrived here, I had no clue it was haunted until this handsome stranger told me." I smiled and winked jokingly. "But before I came in here, I saw a figure standing on a balcony and it was just.... staring at me. It gave me goosebumps. And after that, the second I stepped foot into the hotel the energy surrounding me felt, sad. Like previous people here were longing for something. And a bit of anger was hidden beneath the longing and sadness. I also got catcalled, but when I turned around I was alone. Whatever happened here must've been pretty bad." I explained for a second time but in more detail. "I still don't know what happened here, I just know that it's haunted."

I smiled at the boy behind the camera. "I'm colby, by the way." He mirrored my smile.

"Thanks for letting me know what I was getting myself into, Colby." I giggled as he put the camera down.

"Yeah, Sure." He laughed, his deep voice sending butterflies to my stomach. Heat rises to my cheek before he continued. "If you need anything me and my friend, Sam, will be in here. And maybe our other two friends. You're also welcome to join us, we're gonna be ghost hunting."

"Yeah, I'll consider it." I smiled kindly once more. "Thanks, Colby."

"No problem." he waved, returning the smile before walking down the hall. I opened my hotel room, rushing in and throwing my bag on my bed.

I sighed happily, finally being able to sleep. I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, and I shivered a bit before trying to push the thought to the back of my mind.

I changed out of my white dress, and replaced it for pajama bottoms and a long sleeve shirt with holes for my thumbs.

I put fresh socks on before turning out the light and quickly hopping into the big bed.

I saw something in the corner, just before fatigue took over my body.

--

'Wake up' A females voice whispered in my ear.

I shot out of bed quickly, my eyes wide. Sweat dripped down the side of my head as I looked around my room. "Hello??" I said out loud. No response.

I shrugged it off as my imagination, and tried to fall back asleep.

—

I rubbed my eyes, tiredly sitting up.

“Why do I keep waking up.” I whispered to myself, picking up a clock that rested on a nightstand to the left of me.

“3:33.” I read out loud. “Isn’t that an Angel number?”

I shrugged it off, before I heard a mumbling. My head shot up and stared into the darkness that lie before me.

I squinted, trying to see into the black fog. I saw a figure. Staring at me. Menacingly. My eyes widened as I froze in fear.

A faint “What do you want?” Tore from my parted lips.

It didn’t respond, to nobody’s surprise, yet still stood there.

I sat in the king sized bed, slowly building up to courage to make a run for it.

When the courage was built, I leapt out of bed and ran for the door, only to be flung away from it.

I hit the wall, with a loud ‘thud,’ before landing on the floor.

Tears welled up in my eyes after I groaned in pain. My back was definitely gonna be bruised.

I crawled for the door as fast as I could, but got violently dragged by an invisible force. I dragged my nails against the carpet.

Once it let me go I quickly rushed to stand up but got aggressively pushed against the wall. The side of my face slammed into the wall, as an unbearable pain shot through my cheek at the violent contact. A Bible flew through the air and hit me in the face. Blood dripped down my nose as I cried in pain. I heard loud knocking on my door and my eyes widened.

“Y/n!? Are you okay?!” A familiar voice shouted.

I tried to get to the door but cried out when a sharp, stinging pain shot through my back.

I sobbed, feeling myself get dragged once more before the entity let go. I jumped up and ran to the door, flinging it open. I was met with four concerned faces, three of them being un-familiar.

I sobbed into my hands, as the traumatic event played over and over in my head.

“What the fuck happened?!” Colby asked.

“Are you okay?!” The blonde boy next to him asked.

“Th-there was something in there!!” I cried out as a blonde girl rubbed my back comfortingly.

“Come to our room for a second. We’ll help you and you can tell us everything.” A black haired girl said, her brows furrowed in worry.

I nodded, following the two girls as the two boys checked my hotel room for anyone.

We entered their hotel room and I sat down on the red sofa.

The blonde girl brought back a tissue and a cold water bottle.

I used the tissue for my nose, after giving a small thanks. I placed the water bottle on the huge bruise on my cheek.

“I’m kris.”

“Celina. And the other boys are Sam and Colby.” Celina said.

“Th-thank you guys.. so much.” You smiled gratefully.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“I-I don’t know… there was this thing and it-it threw me around like I was a fucking rag doll.” I joked a bit, before wincing from the pain radiating on my back.

“I-I think it scratched my back.” I added. Colby came over to me and asked if he could raise my shirt. I nodded and turned around while he lifted it up.

Though I couldn’t see, they all had wide eyes and opened mouths.

“Holy shit!” Sam exclaimed. “Y/n do you mind if I record this?” He asked kindly, okay with either answer.

“You can, I don’t mind, it just hurts really bad.” I said in a pained voice. “Colby can you take a picture of it and show me?” I asked softly.

He said yes before snapping a picture of it. I stared at the picture in shock, a giant bruise on my side and three, long, bloody scratch marks starting from my upper back and ending right before the waistband of my shorts.

“Holy shit” i mimicked sam just as he started recording my injuries. I turned around and showed the rest.

“Do you wanna stay in our room for the rest of the night?” Colby offered.

“Yes please.” I said, a pleading look lingered in my eyes. “I don’t wanna go back into that room.” Tears welled up in my eyes as Celina and Kris both side-hugged me.

“It’s ok, Y/n you don’t have to.” Kris said, her brows furrowed.

“You’re safe with us. Especially the boys cause they’re a lot stronger than us.” Celina joked, attempting to lighten the mood. I laughed a long, wiping my tears.

“Thanks guys.” I said gratefully.

“Anytime.” The group postponed further exploration of the building so they could make sure I was alright.

Celina and Kris called it a night, heading to their own room to sleep or try to contact anything.

I started to get sleepy while Colby was treating my wounds. “I’m tired.” I admitted.

“I’m almost done, just try to stay up for one more minute.” He applied ointment to the scratches and ice to the bruises.

I was definitely gonna tell the hotel about this in the morning. Even though some people wouldn’t believe me, it was worth a shot.

Once Colby was done in informed me of it and I crawled under the sheets and lied in the middle of the bed.

Sam and Colby lied on either side of me, and yet I still unconsciously cuddled closer to Colby.

“Goodnight.” I sighed, feeling safe with the two boys I had only just met.

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

—

The end.

#sam and colby #colby brock #crescent hotel #sam golbach #colby brock x reader #colby x reader #callmekris #celinaspookyboo #sam x reader #sam golbach x reader #callmekris x reader #fem reader #celinaspookyboo x reader #Sam and Colby #sam and colby x reader

[shybunnie20]

Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

strangers to friends to lovers

★Teasers ★Locations ★My Masterlist

Summary: Eddie embarks on a new chapter after finally graduating. He expects to face a variety of hurdles that come with a change of scenery, but what he doesn't anticipate is falling head over heels for you.

Author's Note: Holy shit, I can't believe this is finally finished after 11 months. It’s the first time I've written smut in well over a year and I'm pleased with how it turned out (I couldn't have done it without the support of my beloved @eddiethefreakkmunson)

Location photos are linked above and in the fic at their first mentions. AU with no Upside Down, no use of Y/N, focuses on Eddie's POV, fluff and mild angst with a happy ending *wink wink*

Word count: 17.3k

Warnings: MDNI 18+! alcohol consumption/drunken behavior, subtly pervy moments, masturbation, fondling, dry humping, protected p in v, oral (f receiving), a little bit of praise & possessiveness, includes swearing.

Eddie was determined to leave Hawkins for good as soon as he tossed his graduation cap to the sky. He didn’t expect how expensive a venture like that would be, so he devised a plan. For a couple of months, he would stick around to save up a financial cushion.

To pocket every penny possible, Eddie took up odd jobs around town like mowing lawns and painting fences. With every task completed, he army crawled his way toward living life on his terms. He didn’t expect it to take him well over a year to save up enough cash.

On this sweltering afternoon, the atmosphere is charged with the promise of new beginnings. The summer sun peeks out from behind the dense clouds and casts irregular shadows on the dirt road of Forest Hills.

His van is packed to the brim with boxes of his belongings. After mentally checking everything twice over, uncertainty twists Eddie’s stomach into knots. What if I have car trouble? What if I get lost? What if it’s not everything I hoped it would be?

Wayne descends the concrete steps and joins Eddie. He lets out a belly-deep sigh that speaks volumes. You’ll figure it out. You’re gonna find your way. Your best days are ahead of you.

There’s a hint of sadness in seeing his boy take this significant step toward independence. But beneath that sorrow, profound pride prevails within Wayne. Eddie’s dreams reach far beyond the boundaries of Hawkins. Sticking around here won’t do him any good.

Eddie looks at the man who’s been his rock; the one who used to rise before dawn to plate crispy bacon and fluffy pancakes, meeting Eddie’s needs before his own. The memories are vivid as he reflects on the milestones his uncle guided him through. Without a doubt, Eddie wouldn’t be half the man he is today if it weren’t for Wayne.

His beloved van sits atop the very spot where he once wiped out while learning to ride a bike without training wheels. “It’s time to be a big boy,” Wayne said, urging Eddie to muster some faith in himself.

Reluctantly, Eddie mounted his small bicycle and clutched the rubber handles. With a push to set him off, he experienced the fleeting thrill of accomplishment as he pedaled forward. He only made it a few feet before his balance wavered.

The bike wobbled, sending Eddie tumbling to the gravel. His knees and palms bore the brunt of the fall, and the sharp pebbles embedded themselves into his scraped skin.

Wayne isn’t exactly a ‘rub some dirt on it’ kind of guy, but he isn’t the coddling type either. He cleaned Eddie’s wounds, slapped on some bandages, and told him to give it another shot. Faced with his nephew’s tearful protests, Wayne emphasized that just because failure stings, it shouldn't deter him from trying again.

“I guess this is it then.” Eddie wipes beads of sweat from his brow using the back of his hand.

“Yep, looks that way. It sure will be quiet without y’here. I got so used to living with all that racket of yours.”

“It’s called good music. You should take it for a spin sometime, it’s way better than that honky-tonk shit you made me listen to growing up.”

“I like my honky-tonk shit just fine, thank you,” They share a laugh.

Wayne will undoubtedly miss their banter, but it’s their Sundays together that weighs the most on his heart. Occasionally, the summer graces them with a few perfect days—pleasantly sunny with a stirring breeze. That weather maintained an unspoken tradition.

When little Eddie moved in, he was struggling to find his footing and hadn’t spoken much. Wayne took him to a serene lakeside spot where the water gently lapped against the shore.

He cast his line into the water in pursuit of a crappie dinner, and six-year-old Eddie gleefully played with the live bait. Over the years, their dynamic remained largely unchanged. Wayne watched his bobber from the swaying dock while Eddie kicked back in a folding lawn chair. It was simple father-son time that didn’t cost more than an afternoon or two. As of now, those days are over.

“You sure you’re gonna be alright without me, old man?”

Wayne shrugs and shoves his hands into his front pockets. “I suppose I’ll manage one way or another.” 

“Take care of yourself,” Eddie says firmly.

“Will do. Oof-” Wayne chuckles when he’s abruptly hugged. He smooths over the back of Eddie’s head with his calloused palm.

The men hold onto one another, their unspoken sentiments conveyed in the silent embrace. They exchange a pat on the back before parting.

Wayne’s eyes follow his nephew as he closes the rear doors and makes his way toward the front of the van. “Eddie, one last thing. Remember to take your chances while ya got 'em and strike while the iron’s hot. Don’t let nothin’ pass ya by.”

Offering a firm salute, Eddie hops up and settles into the driver’s seat.

With Hawkins in the rearview mirror, Eddie sets off. Chicago may not be the sprawling metropolises of New York or Los Angeles, but it’s a world apart from his hometown.

It’s far enough away to provide a much-needed change of scenery, yet close enough that he can move back home if things go to shit.

The drive goes smoothly overall with a couple of instances of getting turned around. By the time Eddie is finished with the long hours on the road, he’s bone-weary.

His new place may not be the epitome of luxury, but it’s a roof over his head and that’s all that matters. After lugging his things to the fourth floor, Eddie can finally consider himself moved in. His apartment lacks furniture and decor, but it’s a space he can call his own.

The throbbing of an unbearable intensity plagues his thighs, a fiery reminder of the multiple flights of stairs conquered. He collapses onto his twin mattress and emits a low groan. The sound bounces off the bare walls and echoes through the studio apartment.

Eddie starts noticing the difference in sounds around him. Gone are the barking dogs and tires rolling over gravel. His fridge hums like the one in the trailer, which is nice, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out the argument happening in the unit above his.

When the noise finally subsides, he hopes to catch up on some much-needed sleep. But just a few minutes later, the ruckus rekindles. In a bid for tranquility, Eddie clutches his pillow to his ears to block out the animalistic makeup sex seeping through his ceiling.  He’s praying that the man is a two-pump chump because this is a lot for a first night. Hell, it’s too much for any night.

In a matter of days, Eddie has already encountered a series of issues. Whenever he tries to use hot water, his shower head screeches like a banshee. And the upstairs neighbors? They wear bricks for shoes and have a hoedown at 2 a.m. on a nightly basis; that is, if they’re not at each other’s throats.

Job hunting has been fruitless. The gas stations, car washes, and tobacco shops turned him down for the same reason: no documented experience. This means that he’s going to be stuck with the makeshift bed frame he came with for a while, which is just wooden planks zip-tied together. He’s not sure how long it’ll be able to withstand his tossing and turning.

There’s good news, though. Eddie refused to succumb to defeat. Today, he strolled past a tattoo parlor and impulsively checked it out. When he approached the counter, Eddie was met by an imposing man with a rather unwelcoming demeanor. In spite of feeling a bit intimidated, he greeted the man warmly.

As expected, the shop owner Cliff, did not reciprocate. When Eddie inquired about job openings, Cliff promptly replied with a curt “no.” Eddie’s tone grew desperate and he nearly pleaded. Cliff became irritated and offered a non-existent custodial position just to get Eddie to shut up and leave.

Currently sprawled on the rickety mattress, Eddie holds Mr. Pickles in the air and looks up at him. His trusty plushie is a bit worse for wear, having had his seams sutured with crimson battle vest thread.

“We’re doing it, buddy. We’re finally doing it.”

Shortly after moving in with his uncle, he had trouble falling asleep in the unfamiliar trailer. Wayne, hoping to provide comfort, gifted Eddie the stuffed bunny. It swiftly became a treasured part of his life, symbolizing safety and support—two things he hadn’t received much of up to that point.

The floppy-eared companion got its name from Wayne’s favorite snack. Whenever his uncle would pop the lid on a fresh jar of pickles, young Eddie would erupt into a fit of laughter. He insisted that Wayne was going to transform into a pickle due to how fast he blows through a jar.

In his twenties now, Eddie still cuddles with Mr. Pickles every night. If his pal could talk, he’d tell him how proud he is. Eddie rolls onto his side and nuzzles the bunny’s worn fur. That smile lingers on his face while he drifts off to sleep, now with a sense of hope for the days ahead.

The time has come. Eddie has worn through his entire wardrobe and needs to make a trip to the laundromat. Having a washer in the trailer was something he didn’t fully appreciate until now.

Taking a quick look around his apartment, Eddie spots a cardboard box that’ll suffice in lieu of a laundry basket. He fills the box with the scattered clothes from the floor, slips on his sneakers, and makes his way out onto the street.

Nestled in the heart of his neighborhood, Eddie arrives at his destination. The air carries an overwhelming fresh scent of detergent. It’s not bustling by any means; there are only a handful of people here.

Compared to those who are well-versed in their routine, Eddie feels out of place. He chooses an available machine and plops his box of dirty clothes on the counter behind him. He inspects the front-loading washer, not versed in its functions and operation. Eddie goes to open the machine’s door but it refuses to yield.

His patience wanes with each futile tug. Just as frustration peaks, a sudden realization dawns on him, prompting a blush to sweep across his cheeks. There’s a lock hidden on the flip side of the handle.

With the press of his thumb, the lock disengages and the door screeches open. Hot under the collar, Eddie hastily scoops up his clothes and stuffs them into the damp drum. He slams the door shut with a mechanical click, the sound signaling the lock relatching. 

This place lacks helpful signage, to say the least. The only one here displays the cost of running a cycle, but there’s nothing to guide newcomers through the process.

Eddie pulls out his wallet to retrieve a few quarters. After inserting them, he figures out the detergent tray without much trouble. But as Eddie presses the START button repeatedly, increasing his force with each press, the machine stubbornly refuses to respond.

“You have to choose a setting.”

Eddie jumps at the sound of your voice, his brows arched and mouth hanging open. “Huh?”

You walk over from the adjacent wall of driers a few feet away. “It won’t start unless you select a wash setting first.”

He looks at you like a deer-in-the-headlights, so you step in and set the machine to delicate for him. The washer springs to life and water begins to fill the drum.

“Ah, that makes sense,” Eddie says while rubbing the back of his neck. “These are so different from the one I had back home.”

“Where’s home?” You ask, resuming your task of folding your clean laundry on the nearby counter.

Eddie is visibly taken aback by your continued engagement. “A town in Indiana that you’ve definitely never heard of,” He starts to fidget with the detergent jug’s cap, though it’s already sealed.

Suddenly, Eddie feels self-conscious about his appearance. Talking to a cute girl wasn’t on the agenda today, he didn’t dress for this. He regrets choosing function over fashion; his denim shorts are an old pair of Wayne’s jeans that he cropped to wear while mowing lawns. The raw hems are messily frayed and the light blue is darkened with grass stains.

“Indiana, huh? You’re a ways from home then. What brings you to The Windy City?”

Eddie’s attention lands on your pile of clothes, subtly assessing your wardrobe choices. “Uh- just needed a change of pace, I guess.”

“Chasing the dream, right? Figured Chicago had more to offer?” You peek at him, catching his stare fixed on a pair of underwear at the top of the pile—a standard white cotton panty, nothing worth ogling.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, his posture stiffening when you make eye contact. He swallows hard, averts his gaze, and shifts his weight between the balls of his feet. “Something like that.”

“Did you bring your band with you?” You take the undergarment in question and fold it, seemingly unfazed.

As you move the folded pile into your laundry basket, his clothes start thumping inside the machine, causing suds to splash against the glass window. 

Eddie’s brows knit together. “How’d you know I have a band?”

“You’ve got the look,” You remark as your eyes travel over him.

He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. “Is that so? Do enlighten me, what’s the dead giveaway?”

“Your hair,” You suggest charmingly.

Eddie swishes his brunette curls like a lady in a shampoo commercial. “Too predictable?” 

“I’d say it’s on brand. Let me guess, Slayer? Maybe a little Dio or Megadeth?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at you before looking down at his shoes. “Jesus Christ, you’re reading me like a goddamn book.”

You cock your head to the side, playfulness tugging at your lips. “And if I were to look for this book in a store, what name might I find it under?”

“Eddie,” He lets his arms fall to his sides. When you tell him your name, it bounces around in his head. How pretty, he thinks.

After lifting your full laundry basket, you step away from the counter. “Good luck with the dryers. Oh, and just a heads up, those doors lock too. Don’t go yankin’ the handle off unless you’re looking to take home a souvenir,” You giggle to yourself as you walk out of the laundromat.

Eddie’s mouth hangs open while he watches you leave. Once you’re gone, his attention drifts to the nearby bulletin board. Among the various flyers, one advertises an open mic night. He decides that he’ll check it out sometime this week.

At Double Barrel Bar, Eddie is swallowed by a sea of mainstream nonconformity. The bar-goers are dressed similarly to him, and while the crowd is mostly younger people, they’re still a touch older than him. 

A symphony of clinking glasses and animated chatter collides with the thunderous live metal music. The dense haze of tobacco smoke and the distant clatter of pool balls only enrich the ambiance. The walls are adorned with framed music memorabilia and band posters, a mix of global icons and local talents.

Eddie is enveloped with nostalgia. This place reminds him of the gigs he used to play with Corroded Coffin, although they never played for an audience this size. Staring at the stage, he questions whether he could engage such a crowd and persuade them that he’s worth listening to.

Between two other men at the bar, Eddie takes a seat.

Lee, the bartender, greets him. “What can I get ya?”

Eddie shrugs and hooks his sneakers beneath the rung of the stool. “I'll take a cold one, whatever's cheapest.”

“You got it. Bottle or tap?” Lee wipes his hands on the white rag draped over his shoulder.

“Bottle is fine.”

Lee retrieves a bottle of beer and deftly pops the cap before sliding it over to Eddie.

His fingers curl around the icy glass, the condensation cool to the touch. Eddie’s plump lips wrap around the bottle’s rim and he takes his first sip. The crisp liquid trickles down his throat, offering a short-lived remedy for the stuffiness of the room. 

As Lee tends to another patron, Eddie fidgets in his seat, causing the flier in his back pocket to crinkle. “So, you host an open mic?”

“Yeah, Thursday through Sunday. Are you any good?” Lee asks.

Eddie flips his guitar pick necklace between his fingers. “I like to think so. I guess you’d have to ask the ants in my kitchen, they’re the closest thing I've had to an audience lately.”

Lee snorts. “I've got a good feeling about you, I’m gonna reserve a spot.”

“Oh, uh- you don't have to do that.”

Lee waves his hand in dismissal and gathers the abandoned glassware from the now-empty seat beside Eddie. “No pressure, just swing by on Thursday if you’re interested.”

The opportunity intrigues Eddie, but performing alone is uncharted territory. Contemplating the offer, Eddie grapples with a cloud of self-doubt looming over his decision.

It’s been two months, and his routine is now established. Each day brings progress and a sense of reward, even though there have been occasional hiccups along the way.

Surviving the sweltering summer with a broken AC was sheer hell. He found himself spending ample time nude in his apartment or standing in front of the open freezer compartment of the refrigerator; sometimes simultaneously. Fortunately, September has arrived, and the temperature has begun to wind down.

Managing expenses requires a frugal approach, given the modest pay from his custodial job. Eddie resorts to taking power showers and using candles to keep his utility bill low.

Sometimes he forgoes meals to keep an extra couple of bucks on hand. But when he does eat, he opts for saltine crackers slathered in butter, bologna sandwiches, canned soups, and plain noodles. Occasionally he treats himself to store-bought pasta sauce, though it’s still the saddest spaghetti known to man.

Eddie faces skepticism from the seasoned artists at the tattoo shop, all military veterans who view him as an arrogant kid. Their perception fuels his determination to prove himself. To earn their respect, he’s dedicated to cleaning more thoroughly than he ever has in his life.

He’s become keenly observant, absorbing every detail of the professional tattooing process, despite never being included in those conversations. Within the circle of artists—Ace, Lunchbox, and Dozer—Eddie gravitates toward Ace, who becomes a mentor. Seeing Eddie’s genuine enthusiasm, Ace asks about his drawing abilities. 

Although Eddie’s sketchbook is brimming with fantastical creatures, Ace can recognize a young man’s raw ambition and desire for direction and purpose. He takes Eddie under his wing, allowing him to learn the medium while on the clock.

After taking Lee up on his offer, Eddie found himself on stage every Thursday night. His performances were rusty, as he hadn’t played in front of anyone since before he was working his ass off to get here.

As he strummed through the jitters, Eddie rediscovered the sanctuary that music had always offered. It felt like a part of him had resurrected, reviving the passion he sorely missed.

Playing Thursday nights may not rake in tips like the weekends would, but he’ll take what he can get. Eddie’s been saving up for some pre-owned furniture, and he’s happy to snag any extra cash he can for it.

Life is good right now. The worry about moving back home has lessened, and he’s genuinely amazed at how smoothly things are going. Just when Eddie thought things couldn’t get any better, a Saturday night slot opened up at the bar.

It would be twice as busy, packed from wall to wall with people who could bare witness to him fucking up. Doubt crept its way in, but when Lee mentioned that Eddie could pocket thirty-five bucks or more by the night’s end, it was a no-brainer.

Tonight marks his debut Saturday gig. Stepping through the red brick archway and out onto the stage, the creak of the rustic boards beneath his feet sends a ripple up his legs. Eddie hasn’t even made it to the mic and he’s already forgotten what foot he’s supposed to be stepping with next.

Beneath his t-shirt, his back grows slick. A lump lodges itself in Eddie’s throat, causing his voice to crack when he introduces himself to the room. Amidst the overlapping conversations and the flushing from the nearby restroom, the amassed noise seems muffled. The strong winds in his head distort the sounds, whirling like a twister.

Eddie hooks his guitar up to the amp and forces himself to take a deep breath. As he tunes his instrument, the upheaval begins to settle. Gradually, Eddie finds unity with his guitar and concentrates on perfecting the tone.

Throughout the performance, there’s a persistent undertow of nerves refusing to fully subside. In spite of his efforts to lose himself in the music, his fingers occasionally falter as they dance on the strings.

At the end of his set, Lee can be heard whooping and hollering over the sparse clapping. With a sense of relief, Eddie packs up and makes a beeline for the bar, eager to ease the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Normally, the rush is akin to a high, but this time around it’s so intense that he’s dying to dial it back a notch.

He splurges and orders something a bit fancier than his usual bland beer. Why not celebrate a little? Eddie claims a recently vacated table in the bustling crowd, seating himself on the leather stool adorned with studs. His eyes roam the room while he takes a swig of his drink, savoring the superior crisp taste.

His attention zeroes in on a figure just feet away, a quick recognition igniting in his mind. Eddie recognizes you instantly, due to the scarcity of memorable encounters he’s had.

Eddie observes from afar, observing your mannerisms as you execute your waitressing duties. You must only work weekends, which would explain why your paths haven’t crossed again until now. When your eyes meet his, a shock shoots through his body.

He sits in rapt anticipation as you make your way over. Time seems to stretch unbearably from your previous spot until you finally stand opposite of him, separated only by the circular wooden table.

A courteous smile graces your face—a skill that waitresses must master if they want to pay rent. “Ready for another?”

Eddie stares back at you. His eyes drift down to the almost full beer bottle in his hand. The cogs in his skull are scraping, unable to put the words you’ve said to him in a comprehensive order. He nods without making a peep.

You pivot to leave, but then turn back to him and lift a brow at his unaltered dumbstruck expression. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you don’t look it.”

He remains silent and shakes his head sheepishly, feeling foolish for agreeing to another beer and then changing his mind just because you asked again. Is there more dignity in being indecisive than a bumbling mess?

“You were just singing up there for nearly an hour,” you call him out, folding your arms and tucking your serving tray against your side. “I know you can talk.”

Eddie clears his throat, but he ends up making an odd sound. “Uh, my throat’s a bit sore, that’s all.”

“Did you forget to do your vocal warm-ups or what?”

“It probably sounded like I did,” Eddie laughs, the self-deprecation evident.

“Not at all, I thought you were great.”

“You did?” Eddie’s lips curl at your compliment. Heat blooms on his cheeks, amplifying the full-body perspiration. He takes a casual sip from his beer, a guise to moisten his dry mouth and escape your intimidating gaze.

“Totally, you really come alive when you’re up there,” you rest your forearms on the table’s edge. “Is it just Eddie, or do you go by a stage name?”

No way. There’s no fucking way that you remember him, his face is so forgettable it’s not even funny. Lee had to have said something about who was filling the Saturday night spot. Eddie is inwardly thrilled to hear his name roll off of your tongue, but he tries to maintain his composure. “I suppose not, I guess I never thought about it.”

“You could pull it off, it suits the whole ‘one-man show’ thing you’ve got going on,” You say while giving him a once-over. The intrigue on your face is unwavering as you walk away.

He’s drunk, he has to be. Or maybe his drink was spiked somehow. The room is spinning and he feels nauseous as all hell, despite only having taken a few swigs from his beer.

A short while later, Eddie’s bottle is half-empty as he sits, continuously replaying the moment in his mind. More specifically, he can’t stop thinking about the sparkle in your eyes; he’s never seen anything like it.

He snaps back from his daydream at the sight of your return, this time with an unopened beer in hand. Eddie looks nothing short of puzzled as you slide it across the table toward him. “Uh, no thanks, I’m-”

“Relax, it’s not for you. I’ll be clocking out in six minutes. I wanna hear more about that small town of yours. I mean, as long as that’s okay with you. I understand if you have other plans tonight.”

“No!” Eddie exclaims. “I mean, yes it’s more than okay, and no, I don’t have anywhere to be.”

You glance downward while scuffing your shoe against the floor. “Okay, cool. Keep it cold for me then?” 

“Yeah, for sure. You can count on me.”

Shit shit shit. How is he going to keep this beer cold? Of course, ways to heat it flood his mind. If you come back to a lukewarm beer, that’ll be the end of him. He’s going to fuck this up and any chance of getting to know you will be squashed.

When you join him again, your drink is still cold and the bottle has left a ring of moisture on the paper coaster. Eddie’s unsure of how he managed to not lose it; if he’s capable of anything, it’s misplacing something when his only responsibility is to keep it in his possession. 

As you slide onto the stool beside him, you’re quick to inquire. You ask him typical ice-breaker questions at first, and Eddie responds with a plethora of details. At times, he goes off on tangents. You don’t appear bothered by it.

Eddie talks about his ability to learn how to play songs by ear, and he delves into the intricacies of his favorite Dungeons & Dragons campaigns that he’s created over the years. He earnestly tries to convey its depth to you and throughout his ramblings, he doesn’t miss the concentrated look on your face as you try to keep up.

Lee is nearing the end of his cleaning routine and the other waitresses have left for the night. Neither of you is aware that the bar is devoid of a crowd, scorching lights, and blaring music.

Eddie has been too busy asking you about your origins and passions, his wide eyes and attentive demeanor affirming his genuine interest. Just as he mentions working at the shop and you’ve asked him how many tattoos he has, you’re interrupted.

Lee stands beside the table, armed with a damp rag and a spray bottle. “Awfully hard to wipe the seats when your asses are still on them. Scoot your booch,” Lee instructs by motioning toward the entrance.

Eddie doesn’t hesitate to slip off his stool. You, on the other hand, take your sweet time.

“Have a good night,” You say and give Lee’s shoulder a friendly pat.

Uncertain of his next move, Eddie hesitates while you make your way to an unmarked door. It’s half past two in the morning, and he feels a tug of concern about you leaving by yourself.

There’s a very good chance that you’d consider him clingy or intrusive if he waits here. Eddie opts to stand outside. He props himself against the building and idly nudges a loose chunk of concrete with his shoe to keep himself occupied. Soon after, you emerge into the night.

The slam of the heavy door prompts him to straighten up. “Hey.”

“Oh, I thought you left,” you admit and adjust your purse strap on your shoulder. “Thanks for telling me about Hawkins the Hell Hole.”

“The pleasure was all mine. Do you, uh…” Eddie inches forward, his Reeboks scraping loudly on the pavement. “Would you like me to walk you home? It’s pretty late.”

“I don’t live far, it’s just a few blocks.’

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you around then?”

Your eyes twinkle brighter than he’d previously seen. “I’d say the odds are in your favor.”

“Goodnight. Get home safe,” He says with a half-hearted bow.

“Likewise,” You reply, biting back a giggle.

Eddie watches you fade into the darkness along the unlit patches of sidewalk. Once you’ve turned the corner, Eddie smiles from the surreal sensation of floating on clouds.

In this moment, the feeling of joy is so potent that it’s borderline palpable. He’s the embodiment of elation, a soul soaring high. It’s a feeling he wishes he could bottle up and carry with him forever.

The next Saturday plays out much like the previous one, save for one detail: it’s considerably tougher to concentrate on stage knowing who’s in the audience. Post-performance, the routine echoes that of the prior week. The two of you gravitate toward the same table as before, establishing it as the one you’ll always sit at.

At first, a hesitation lingers before diving into more personal topics. However, as the night progresses and more beers are consumed, you seamlessly fall into them. Eddie weaves elements of drama and romanticism into his past, making it utterly engrossing for you to listen to.

When you propose getting together outside of the confines of the bar for the first time, Eddie eagerly accepts your invitation to show him around since he has yet to do any sightseeing.

Eddie is swept up in an exuberant wave of boyish excitement, and it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt. He never experienced it during his teenage years like the average person. The sheer thrill of having an instant connection with a girl is an entirely new feeling for him.

Week after week, your laundry days are synchronized and you’ve started the habit of making silly faces or giving each other the finger just because. During the late nights spent together at Dove’s Diner, Eddie finds enjoyment in seeing you eat. It’s a peculiar fascination, but it makes him happy. Seeing you completely at ease while enjoying greasy food is endearing to him.

When he arrived in Chicago, Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling of not wanting to move back to Hawkins. Even so, he wasn’t experiencing the same comfort here as he did in that cramped trailer.

There was a longing for familiarity that he had in his old surroundings. Eddie didn’t want to have to go back home in order to feel that sense of belonging again. He had his doubts about ever truly adjusting to life here until you came along. In your company, the foreignness of the city fades away, replaced by that feeling he’s been missing.

Several times, he’s been working in his sketchbook, adding to the pin-up style figures and faces that bear a striking resemblance to you. While engrossed in drawing, he hadn’t picked up on the similarities. But when he absentmindedly drew a simple heart, that's when it occurred to him.

Eddie like-likes you.

As your shift comes to an end, you head to the back room to gather your belongings. Eddie stands idly at your claimed table, picking at his hangnails while he waits.

“When’re you gonna ask her out?” Lee asks while tidying up nearby.

Eddie laughs heartily at the idea. “How about never.” 

“You should. I can tell she’s into you.”

“Yeah, right. I don’t stand a chance.”

Lee puts down his spray bottle and looks at Eddie. “Listen, I’ve known her for a while now. Trust me on this,” he dumps a used ashtray out into a trash bag.

Eddie emits a noise of disbelief, his mind flickering back to the painful lesson he learned in his youth—he’s no one's type. Lost in reflection, he doesn’t realize you’ve returned with your sweatshirt draped over your bent arm.

Despite the tiring evening, you're upbeat in his presence. “Okay, I’m ready! I was thinking we could get some takeout and watch TV at my place.”

“Sure, I could eat,” Eddie says with a grin. Lee is shaking his head, looking particularly smug.

Your apartment is the polar opposite of Eddie’s, the difference is like day and night. It has a homey atmosphere and there’s a notable absence of wear and tear. He does have band posters, framed personal photos, and furniture, but they fail to create the same inviting ambiance that your apartment effortlessly exudes.

Seated beside Eddie on your couch, you tease him. “You’re terrible at this.”

“I’m trying!” He attempts to mimic your technique, but the piece of chicken repeatedly falls from his chopsticks.

“I can see that,” you stifle a laugh. “And you’re total shit at it.”

Out of frustration, Eddie impales his sweet and sour chicken with both sticks.

Glancing your way, he catches you smiling ear to ear, watching him. Eddie smiles back as he chews. “What? This way works just as well.”

You laugh and refocus your on the TV while resuming your meal. Eddie swears that you’re sitting closer to him than when you first sat down. Your thigh is almost touching his and your shoulder is just as close.

The paranoia subsides as he gets lost in thinking about how he can feel the heat radiating off of your bare thigh. But Eddie’s pulled back to reality when your chopsticks cut across his vision and dig into his takeout box.

He doesn’t mind, not really; sharing is caring. Having said that, when you lean over to look into the box, your shoulder bumps against his. A particularly appreciative sound escapes your lips, one that’s borderline pornographic.

“That’s really good, I’ll have to get some next time,” you hum and place your takeout box on the coffee table. “Or I could just keep stealing yours, it tastes better that way.”

Eddie is frozen, eyes unblinking. As you return to your spot on the sofa, you’re unquestionably closer this time. Your beautiful skin is on display in those shorts of yours and your bare thigh is brushing against his own. He could choke on air right now if he were still breathing.

You look over at him, your brow furrowed. “You good?”

“Yeah, yep. All good,” Eddie avoids making eye contact and stares blankly ahead. “Peachy keen.”

“Okay, weirdo,” you brush off his abrupt awkwardness and scoot toward the edge of the cushion. After gathering your trash, you look at him. “All finished?”

“Mhm,” He replies weakly and extends his box toward you.

With your arms full, you head into the kitchen, leaving him by his lonesome in the living room.

Eddie releases a heavy sigh and drags his hands down his face. Your absence allows him to reenter his body, but it only makes him keenly aware of his not-so-subtle half hard-on that’s outlined through the thin fabric of his shorts.

His eyes widen in alarm and panic takes over. “Shit!” Frantically brainstorming ways to conceal it, Eddie spots a fuzzy blanket at the far end of the couch and he retrieves it, draping it over his lap. While he tries to make himself look as casual as possible, he catches a glimpse of your approaching shadow just before the kitchen light is switched off.

In the few seconds he has left, Eddie tries out various hand placements, but none feel quite right. Every position feels forced and conspicuous.

As you stride back to the couch, your sweet expression eases some of the tension in his bones. “I got a bit chilly,” Eddie blurts out, hoping to preempt any impending questioning. “Is it okay if I use this?”

“No, I’m totally gonna tell you that you can’t use a blanket for its sole purpose.”

Eddie laughs nervously, “Alright, alright.”

This is arguably worse, being wrapped in your scent. It’s awfully hard not to get any harder when your natural smell is flooding his head. It’s intoxicating, and he finds himself inhaling deeply to capture as much of it as he can.

“What’d I miss?” You ask while plopping back down beside him.

The continuous movement causes Eddie to clench his back molars together because an image surges before he can even think to suppress it. He’d bet all the money he has that you’d look stunning on top of him. There’s fantasy looming alongside the image; Eddie wonders what you look like beneath your clothes.

“Nothing, you didn’t miss anything,” He mutters. When you start to squirm against the back of the couch, Eddie shoots you a questioning look. “You got ants in your pants?”

You huff, “No, there’s an itchy spot on my back. Could you scratch it for me, please? It’s driving me nuts.”

“Oh, um, sure,” Eddie fumbles for words as you angle yourself and present your back to him. “Where is it?”

“Right between my shoulder blades.”

Eddie’s eyes zero in on the outline of your bra strap that’s visible through your shirt across your back. Given his luck, that would be the target. Just to be cautious, he starts by scratching at the higher middle part of your back.

“A little lower.”

Eddie swallows hard as his fingers tentatively inch their way down. His belly begins to swirl the closer he gets to the clasp, but thankfully, you stop him just before he reaches it.

“Right there! Yeah, harder.”

If this goes on too much longer, Eddie could very well pass out. But, per your request, he applies more pressure. Beneath the blanket, the discomfort has only intensified—his arousal is now raging with a persistent ache.

“Oh my god, finally,” You say appreciatively and settle back into a more relaxed position.

The overwhelming urge to touch himself skyrockets as his body begs for friction. Eddie repositions himself to adjust the blanket, hoping to keep his erection concealed. From the corner of his eye, his gaze drifts along your figure, pausing at the rise and fall of your diaphragm as you watch TV.

A jagged breath falls from his lips, but he’s determined to clear his mind. Realizing that he can’t leave here tonight with your blanket as a shield, he has to find a way to distract himself by the end of this program.

Miraculously, he survived. Now lying in his bed, Eddie is surrounded by the darkness, save for the glow of the moon and the faint residual light from the streetlamps filtering through the broken blinds. Eddie stares up at the ceiling while his mostly naked body responds to the vivid recollections swarming his train of thought.

On any ordinary day, Eddie would resort to the routine of using his hand and lotion to relieve himself. Be that as it may, the stirring in his core demands a different sensation.

With the thought of you weighing heavily on his mind, there’s an alternative means by which he’s going to alleviate the frustration and desire that’s grown too loud to ignore. Eddie, already shirtless, yanks his boxers off in a swift motion and kicks them off carelessly. Moving onto his knees, he leans over the edge of his bed and retrieves a pillow from the floor.

He sits back on his heels in the middle of his bed and contorts the stuffing with intent. For a moment, he’s not sure how he wants to use it. His body’s impatience grows, causing his erection to bob expectantly.

Eddie licks his lips in anticipation and sets the bent pillow down with the bend facing him. With one hand, he firmly holds the makeshift toy in place. With his other, he strokes himself languidly, blotting the fabric of the pillowcase with precum as he taps his cock against it repeatedly.

Experimentally, Eddie rolls his hips downward, thrusting the sensitive underside of his length against the smooth material. His eyes fall closed, and he can’t seem to pick just one aspect of you to fantasize about, not when every inch of you is so captivating. Eddie grunts, “Yeah, you like that?”

He adjusts his hips, angling them lower to get more friction. The heat blooming causes Eddie’s jaw to go slack. The usual five or six minutes have been halved as the thought of your smile makes Eddie embarrassingly close already.

Wanting to get in a few more thrusts before he’s spent, Eddie pistons himself against the pillow. “Tell me how badly you want me, I wanna hear you say it.”

With one fist continuing to pin the pillow down against the mattress, Eddie trails his other hand up his pale, slender stomach. He digs his gnawed-down nails into his skin, leaving red streaks behind, as he tries to imagine it as your touch. Eddie doesn’t know what it would feel like if it wasn’t his hand, but the thought of you is more than enough.

Devoid of any visual aid, the absence of a magazine or porno tape isn’t hindering him. Typically, when Eddie only has his imagination to utilize, he can beat off without finishing until he eventually gets bored and gives up.

This time it’s different. As his thoughts run wild, Eddie’s rhythm falters. The bed frame squeaks, and the wood shifts while he thrusts as hard as he can.

“Uhhh,” A coarse moan pours from his throat as his cum shoots onto the pillow. Eddie’s thrusts slow to a stop and he pants. The tension in his abdomen gradually subsides as he floats his way back down to earth.

His eyes flutter open, and he’s faced with the mess he made. “Fuckin’ hell,” With a sigh, Eddie decides that he’ll deal with it tomorrow.

After changing into fresh boxers, he chugs down a glass of tap water. Utterly exhausted, Eddie collapses back onto his bed. The aged frame creaks in protest to his abrupt flop. The intensity has been burned away, and what lingers is rawness.

Here’s the thing, Eddie has a way with words, and his unconventional charm comes without a second thought. But conveying himself physically is a different story. His upbringing lacked affection, and consequently, Eddie was robbed of particular milestones. Among those missed moments was sitting on the grass beneath a starry night sky on summer night.

Eddie never got to pluck the green blades from the ground as he gathered the courage to have his first kiss. He hasn’t so much as held someone’s hand before.

With Mr. Pickles tucked under his chin, a wave washes over his heart, wading him further into the tide of ache. Eddie may be inexperienced but he’s not stupid. He’s picking up what you’re putting down. Your persistent hints practically scream at him to make a move.

But your persistence only worsens the anxiety because Eddie’s not sure that he can take the leap like you want him to. It’s not that he doesn’t want you, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s uncertainty about what to do if he gets to be with you.

Eddie’s drawn to you, his poor pillow could tell you that much. This isn’t the first night he’s spent laying here trying to talk some sense into himself. When he practices being smooth instead of awkward, Eddie struggles to navigate through the hypothetical scenarios that he’s in complete control of.

If his bedroom walls could speak, they’d tell of those nights. But after the sinful act he just committed, they have a hell of a lot more to say. Those bold utterances were far from who he is. It was a facade, a portrayal of a self-assured man he’ll never embody.

Talking dirty made him feel powerful in the moment because the mask allowed him to avoid facing how he truly feels about you. At his core, what Eddie craves is to baby you, he wants to show you that he can be sensitive. He’d die on the spot to see you in a state of delight from being showered with adoration.

Eddie closes his eyes and envisions a world where he can be what you want. He’d never be oblivious to having food in his teeth, and he’d never push a door that should be pulled. This false reality is one where he doesn’t disappoint you by shying away from your advances. It’s unrealistic, he’s just not wired that way.

During his younger years, Eddie endured the worst of taunting. The other kids mocked his short frizzy curls by referring to it as a “rat’s nest.” They told him that he’d resemble a troll until his dying days.  It was ingrained into him that he was unworthy of any form of love—be it familial, platonic, or romantic. The remarks made about Eddie’s prominent nose convinced him that he was a walking safety hazard and he’d poke someone’s eye out if he ever dared to kiss them.

In the seventh grade, Eddie hit a breaking point. He was fed up with having chewing gum put into his curls. There are too many times to count where Wayne sat for hours with a jar of peanut butter, attempting to free the cemented wads from his nephew’s locks. One day, Eddie stood in front of the mirror in the cramped bathroom and cried at the discovery of another bright pink clump of gum tangled in his hair.

It may have been just one piece at that time, but it was the final straw. Out of desperation, Eddie did the only thing he felt would solve the problem for good. By taking matters into his own hands, he used the clippers to give himself a buzz-cut. As chestnut-colored locks cascaded down, settling atop the sink and his feet, the damage was done.

Wayne lent a hand in handling the patchy spots in the back of Eddie’s head that he couldn’t quite reach. The impromptu solution worked as he’d hoped, but it only opened the door to different torment. 

The following school day, his classmates didn’t hold back, likening his appearance to that of an inmate waiting to meet Old Sparky, or cruelly suggesting that he resembles his imprisoned father.

Eddie quickly came to understand that he was never going to be the guy girls wished would ask them to the dance. The scars of rejection were etched into his self-esteem, and since then, he’s come to terms with his inadequacy.

Perhaps you’re interested in Eddie because there are still things you don’t know about him. Surely, once you learn how unworthy he is, you’ll laugh in his face just as the others did.

Tonight he’s shielded from the nightlife commotion inside his van, parked along the curb outside your apartment. He sits patiently, watching the pine tree-shaped air freshener gently sway with the feeble push of air from the AC vents.

It’s Friday night, and there’s nothing he’d rather do than spend it with you. Eddie directs his attention toward your building as you descend the steps of your apartment’s stoop.

Eddie detects the effort, even from afar. Your shoes look new and you’re wearing more makeup than he’s used to seeing you in. These differences have him pondering the significance behind the deliberate choices.

When Eddie casually suggested catching a movie a few days ago, he hadn’t thought much of it. To him, it was merely something you hadn't done together. He didn’t think twice when you got so excited about seeing a late-night showing of Die Hard.

It’s dawning on him that it wasn’t because you’re a big Bruce Willis fan. The reason you’re all gussied up is because this is a date. He asked you out on a date.

This is not a problem, per se. Eddie’s thrilled about going on his very first date, but fear also has him in a chokehold because he’s unprepared.

Wayne never took the time to give his nephew the lowdown on dating. It didn’t come up because Eddie never displayed interest or curiosity about it.

He’s at a loss. Eddie doesn’t know how to carry himself, he doesn’t have a clue about what’s considered proper etiquette beyond what he’s seen on TV and in movies. Are those even reliable sources?

As you cross the sidewalk in his direction, Eddie’s palms grow slick. It suddenly registers that he should be outside, ready to hold the car door open for you. But before he can act on this realization, you swiftly swing the door open and slip onto the passenger seat.

"Hi," You chirp, the sound almost a squeak as you close the car door behind you. You subtly adjust the bottom of your dress before securing your seatbelt.

“Hey,” Eddie’s eyes wander over your body until he finds himself admiring your bare knees.

With a jolt, his eyes snap back to your face, only for you to be watching him with a pleased expression adorning your features.

Eddie clears his throat and busies himself with turning over the ignition. “You look nice,” he scrunched his face. “Pretty! I meant to say you look pretty.”

"Thanks," you reply appreciatively and inspect your freshly painted nails to ensure they’ve withstood the indecisive wardrobe changes of the past half hour.

Throughout the brief drive, engaging in small talk grants Eddie a temporary respite from his brain being in overdrive. Determined to maintain composure, he makes a conscious effort to avoid looking your way.

Eddie successfully carries the conversation as you enter the lobby and get through the refreshments line. Luckily, you secure the last two seats at the end of a row; he’d have been mortified if the theater was oversold and there weren’t any seats left.

The first half of the movie goes as one would expect; you’re comfortably seated beside him, occasionally whispering commentary to each other. Meanwhile, Eddie shovels fistfuls of over-buttered and under-salted popcorn into his mouth, crunching away as the scenes progress on the screen before him.

But then there’s a subtle shift in your body language. He assumes that your inability to sit still might be caused by the need for a restroom break. That is until your knee gradually inches closer to his.

The film has become an afterthought as Eddie watches you place your hand on your thigh, noticeably close to his own that’s casually hanging off of the armrest. It’s impossible to differentiate the pounding pulse in his ears from the blasts of gunfire booming through the theater.

When your fingertips graze his, Eddie rips his hand away to reach for the bucket of popcorn that’s resting in the ditch of his opposite arm. “Want some?” he fails to whisper while offering the bucket to you.

The explosive flashes of red and yellow harshly illuminate your face and without a word, you shake your head and go back to the movie.

Eddie puts the bucket back where it was, and in the hopes of distracting himself from the guilty tingle in his feet, he fidgets with his wristwatch. Repeatedly, Eddie clasps and unclasps it, making the strap incredibly loose and uncomfortably tight around his wrist.

A few minutes go by and without warning, his heart stops because you unexpectedly rest your head on his shoulder.

As if struck by lightning, Eddie leaps to his feet. The motion launches the bucket of popcorn into the air, and the people in the row in front of you are showered with kernels. He's as stiff as a board as he’s confronted with mild uproar and a chorus of expletives. 

Red-faced and unsure of whom to apologize to first, Eddie turns to you. “Shit! I’ll go get another one,” He doesn’t wait for your response and rushes down the stairs, practically leaping over them two at a time.

After bursting through the double doors and out into the empty hallway, Eddie brings his palm to his forehead, his other hand propped on his hip while he paces. Once he’s able to collect himself, Eddie heads toward the lobby, only to find that everything is powered down. 

Eddie decides to use the little time he has to rehearse what he’ll say. There might not be anything he can do to play off his peculiar behavior; at least, nothing that he can think of at the moment.

As he shows up empty-handed, Eddie doesn’t overlook your rigid posture. Your left leg is crossed over your right, pointing away from him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re just upset that he wasted the popcorn and didn't get more.

In your lack of questioning, Eddie feels compelled to explain himself. “Concessions were closed, so…” He gestures with upturned palms, but you don’t acknowledge that he’s spoken or come back.

Not having received a response, Eddie resorts to chewing on his thumbnail and his leg bounces in tandem. Lost in his head, he finds it increasingly difficult to focus on the remainder of the movie.

Exiting the theater and stepping out into the parking lot, Eddie’s voice lacks confidence as he walks alongside you. “What’d ya think? I give it a solid six out of ten.”

You reply with a casual shrug and wrap your arms around yourself. “It was alright.”

“How ‘bout I treat you to Dove’s? Wanna go for a bite?” Eddie suggests to salvage the remainder of the evening.

“I’ll pass. I’m not hungry,” you say curtly, taking a step ahead to open the passenger door for yourself, denying Eddie a second chance to hold it open for you. 

“Oh,” Eddie begins, but his sentence is severed by the slam of the door. “Okay,” he finishes with a sigh.

During the drive back to your neighborhood, the air feels dense. The radio commercials do little to fill the space between you.

Upon the front tire nudging the curb, you get out of the van before Eddie has put it in park. He hurriedly follows suit, rushing over to catch up with you as you head toward your front steps.

“I had a good time tonight. Did you?” Eddie blurts out.

Pausing in your steps, you turn around and face him. “Yeah, I guess.”

Knowing that he’s the cause of your deflated spirit punches a pang to his chest. Eddie offers a gentle expression. “Would you wanna go again sometime? Probably best if you hold the popcorn though,” he chuckles uncomfortably.

“Night, Eddie,” You say with finality before letting yourself into your apartment.

Once you’ve gone inside, dejection overtakes Eddie’s features. “Goodnight,” he mutters to himself, biting the inside of his cheek.

Sifting through the mental archive of wisdom passed down by Wayne, Eddie desperately rummages for any guidance that could apply to his current situation.

Eddie has officially had the world’s worst date, and it very well could be the only one he’ll ever get to go on. It only hurts more that the outcome was entirely his fault.

You’re avoiding him, that much is obvious. You stopped showing up to do laundry together and while he performs, you intentionally keep your back turned to the stage.

After your Saturday shifts end, you no longer stick around to hang out with Eddie, instead choosing to leave with your fellow waitresses.

One would think that it was a tough decision, but it makes perfect sense to him. Eddie gives up playing on Saturdays to avoid crossing paths with you. He reverts to his old spot on Thursday nights.

It’s a way to protect himself while making things easier for you. He can’t fathom how repulsed you are by his presence at this point.

Eddie sits at the folding table in his living room, his feet hooked with one another. The blaring thrash metal fills the room as he meticulously drafts tattoo concepts, completely absorbed in his sketchbook.

The incessant ringing of the telephone hardly cuts through the music. Eddie ignores it for the first two rings and lets out a reluctant huff before pausing the tape and picking up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Heyyy, can you come get me?” Your cheerful request weaves through the lively chatter and honking car horns in the background.

Not having seen you in two weeks, your voice hits him like a wall. “What for?”

“M’ready to go home.”

Eddie reads his watch and leans against the wall. “I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“You know what, forget it. I’ll just walk home.”

“Absolutely fucking not. What bar are you at?”

“Errr, The Dugout I think.”

“Stay put, alright? Wait for me inside, I’ll be there in a few,” After hanging up, he recklessly shoves his feet into his Reeboks and snatches his car keys from the counter.

Eddie arrives, expecting you to be inside. But there you are, sitting on the curb, right where you shouldn’t be. He calls out to you and jogs over, dodging a few bar-goers on the way.

At first, you turn your head the wrong way when you hear your name called. When you spot him, you scramble upright. “You came for me!” Excitedly, you raise your hands above your head and it slightly throws off your balance. 

“Holy shit, you’re plastered,” Eddie half-scoffs, half-laughs. His eyes roam your body, and he immediately takes notice of your scraped and bloodied knees. “Jesus, what happened?”

“Huh?” you ask, your drunken buoyancy unaffected by his evident concern. Following his guided point, you simply shrug. “I dunno, can’t remember.”

“You’re not here by yourself, are you?” Eddie scans the area, looking for any signs of someone accompanying you.

“Mmm... no, well yes. My girlfriends were here but they left.”

Eddie scoffs, “You’ve got some shitty friends.”

“Good thing I have you. My very own knight in shining armor is here to rescue me!”

“That tower of yours must’ve had quite the mini bar, princess,” Eddie remarks.

“Let’s go,” Eddie instructs, heading toward his van with the assumption that you’re following.  Peeking over his shoulder, you’re practically tripping over your own feet.

The long strap of your purse slides off your shoulder, snags on your bent elbow, and the bag thuds against your calf.

“What am I gonna do with you, hmm?” He steps back, takes hold of your purse, and throws it over his shoulder. Then, he wraps his arm around your waist and holds you snugly to his side, determined to get you home safely by whatever means necessary. After helping you into the passenger seat, he reaches over to fasten your seatbelt. “No hurling in here, got it?”

“Yes, sir,” you salute before sitting back so that your head is supported by the headrest.

Getting you up the stairs was the hard part. He unlocks the apartment door and gently steers you toward the bathroom.

You make a feeble attempt to resist, grasping onto the door frame before finally yielding to your waning strength.

Eddie lets go of you and begins to rummage in search of supplies.

“Okay, Eddie Bear. I’m ready for my bath,” You slur, leaning against the wall for support as you start to ease yourself into the tub.

“Eddie Bear, huh? That’s new,” he snorts before glancing over. “Oh, no you don’t. C’mere,” Eddie grasps you by the waist once more, guiding you to sit on the closed toilet seat.

With both hands, he cradles your booze-warmed cheeks, unintentionally pushing your lips into a pout. “Stay put, would ya?”

Mumbling to himself, Eddie goes back to gathering the first aid supplies. “I look away for two goddamn seconds. Nothing but trouble, I swear.”

The pout doesn’t leave your face and you cross your arms with an annoyed huff. As the seconds pass, it's as though there’s elevator music playing in your head while you wait for something to happen.

Eddie crouches at your feet. “So, what’s your justification for getting shit-faced on a weeknight?” The tip of his tongue peeks out from between his lips as he begins wiping away the dried blood on your knees with a damp cloth.

“Boys are dumb, that’s why.”

“I know, aren’t they just the worst?” Eddie concurs with a hum. He stands to rinse the cloth, washes his hands, and then fully gets to his knees on the tile floor to apply ointment.

“Yeah, they are,” Your voice trails off as you look at his fingers resting firmly on your thigh, just above your knee, to prevent any inadvertent movement.

Engrossed in your own little world, you start humming an improvised tune. “Like them so much,” you sing-song to yourself.

Eddie glances up at you briefly. “What’s that?”

“Your hands,” you explain and poke each of his knuckles with your index finger. “You’ve got such nice fingies.”

“Fingies?” Eddie smiles as he secures bandages over both of your knees. He withdraws his touch from your thigh and he takes hold of your hand, turning it palm-side up.

“Mhm, the nicest.”

“Yours are nice too,” he comments as he cleans the scrape on the heel of your hand. As Eddie admires the intricate lines and wrinkles across your palm, he inadvertently brushes the cloth directly against your wound.

You make a high-pitched fuss in reaction to the sudden contact, reflexively pulling your hand away.

“Shit, sorry,” Eddie apologizes earnestly. He applies the ointment before applying a bandage. Rising to his feet, he theatrically brushes off his hands. “There, good as new.”

You reach out to him in a toddler-like manner and make grabby hands at him.

Eddie laughs and leans against the door frame. “I’m not carrying you. Brush your teeth so we can get you into bed.”

“You’re no fun,” you groan while you stand awkwardly, the bandages restricting full movement. You wet your toothbrush and squeeze toothpaste onto it, making sure to shoot a scowl at Eddie as you do.

After lackadaisically brushing your teeth, you plop the brush back into its cup. “There, squeaky clean. Happy?”

“As a clam,” Eddie says with a grin. He steps back to allow you out of the bathroom. “Go put your PJs on.”

With a dismissive wave, you drag your feet to your room and begin to dig through your dresser drawer.

Just as he’s about to start picking up after himself, he’s interrupted.

“Eddie,” You call out defeatedly. 

“Yeah?” When he doesn’t receive an immediate response, he cautiously steps into the doorway of your room. There you stand, still wearing your dress.

“I can’t reach it,” You say, turning your back to him and bowing your head slightly, signaling that you need his assistance.

Eddie swallows hard and mutters under his breath, “Right, the zipper,” Stepping into the room, his hands start to tremble.

Now positioned behind you, he carefully takes hold of the small piece of metal. Despite the trembling, Eddie tries his best not to make contact with your skin as it’s revealed by the descending zipper.

Dizziness consumes him as his eyes flit between your shoulder blades. Once your dress is completely unzipped, Eddie takes a significant step backward, putting distance between the two of you. “Is that all you need?”

You return to sifting through your pajama options. “I think so.” 

Eddie retreats to the bathroom. The image of your bare back is seared into his memory, he’s just gonna have to live with it etched into his mind forever.

After regaining his composure, he locates some aspirin and fills a drinking glass with water. “Are you decent?” Eddie asks hesitantly, not daring to step closer to the threshold without receiving confirmation.

“Uh huh,” You mumble, flopping onto your bed and committing to the first position you land in.

Holding the cup of water and two tablets of pain relief, Eddie re-enters your bedroom. He finds you sprawled and droopy-eyed lying on your back.

Eddie’s chunky metal rings clink against the glass when he sets it down on your nightstand. “I think you’ll appreciate this little visit from the aspirin fairy come morning. You’re gonna feel like shit.”

“Okay,” you murmur, your attention glued to how his strong nose casts a shadow on his cheek in the glow of your bedside lamp. Flipping onto your side facing the door, you yawn and stretch your toes.

Eddie gathers the jumbled blanket from the other side of the bed and drapes it over you, covering you up to your shoulders with care.

Although he wants to, he refrains from tucking you in, concerned that you might trip or get more hurt if you need to get up. “Well, goodnight.”

Just as Eddie turns to leave, your weak grasp seizes his hand before he’s out of reach. It stops him in his tracks, and his gaze follows the path from your joined hands, tracing up your arm until his eyes meet yours.

Fighting to keep your eyes open, you’re teetering on the edge of consciousness. “I don’t want you to go.”

He returns without needing any further invitation and sits on the edge of the bed by your belly. Releasing his hand, you rub your eye before tucking your fist beside your head.

Looking down at you affectionately, a grin graces Eddie’s face. He watches as your eyelids flutter closed, and your breathing becomes slow and steady. “Such a sleepy girl.”

With your eyes cemented closed, you adjust your head on the pillow before drifting off to sleep. Eddie stays put for a minute or two, simply admiring you. He’s never seen something so precious.

His heartbeat rattles his ribs, just as it did the first time he saw you waitressing at Double Barrel. That static-like tingling plagues his extremities as an old thought resurfaces. In those conversations where you shared your life stories, Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to be kissed by you.

Eddie’s eyes brim with tears at the fact that his presence is solely due to your inebriation, and this closeness it’s about to expire. “God,” he exhales, rolling his eyes skyward to hold back his tears.

“Sleep tight, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, pulling the blanket a touch higher over your shoulder. Then, he switches off the lamp and leaves you to rest.

Dwelling on the fact that you won’t remember tonight won’t do him any good. Getting this close to you would have never happened in sober circumstances. At least he got to take care of you in the way he always wanted, even if only for a short time.

Over the past few days, Eddie has been thinking about how he felt when you relied on him to get you home. He’s curious whether the call you made to him signifies that you still want him in your life. If that happens to be the case, then he can work with that.

Going through with this might worsen the sting of rejection, but Eddie has his heart set on mending things.

Within moments of entering the bar and scouring the room for you, he spots you conversing with Lee about a table’s order. Eddie begins to pat his thighs in an erratic rhythm as he feels his insides lurch.

As soon as Lee notices Eddie, he wraps up the conversation and gets back to work. You observe Eddie, noticing the hopefulness on his face as he strides across the room. “Do you need something?”

“Not necessarily. I was wondering if I could uh, make you dinner or something?” Eddie kicks one foot with the other and totters back and forth in place. 

Your expression changes to one of disbelieving annoyance. “I can slap together a PB&J at home, but thanks.”

“No, no. I’m serious, I’ll make whatever you want,” Eddie insists.

“What for?”

Eddie briefly looks away, scratching at the nape of his neck. “I miss hanging out with you.”

“I don’t know,” You ponder with uncertainty, your gaze monitoring the occupied tables in case you’re needed.

“Let me cook for you. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

His pleading eyes wear you down. “Fine, when?”

A bright smile spreads across Eddie’s face, stretching from ear to ear. He bounces on his tiptoes with enthusiasm. “I’ll call you tomorrow and we can set a time then.”

“Sure, yeah,” you respond, your attention diverted to a booth on the far side of the room where the seated customers wave you over. “Look, I gotta go.”

You’re already back in work mode and walking away before Eddie can say anything else. He just stands there, incapable of shrinking his smile to a mere grin.

Bowing his head, Eddie pumps his fists at his sides in a moment of triumph. With the opportunity for redemption sitting in his lap, he has his heart set on making things right.

In the days leading up to the agreed-upon dinner, Eddie makes several trips to the library, hunting for a recipe for the meal you mentioned. He dips into his emergency savings to purchase extra ingredients, dedicating his time and money to practice making it.

The first go around, he forgot to add two crucial ingredients, resulting in a bland and tasteless dish. Eddie couldn’t let it go to waste, so he settled for the less-than-impressive dinner that night.

On the second attempt, he tried to compensate for the previous mistake by adding more than enough seasoning. He didn’t exactly do it on purpose; it poured out of the canister much faster than Eddie expected. Regrettably, that meal went straight into the trash. Eddie couldn’t stomach a forkful of it.

Eddie absolutely, positively cannot fuck this one up. He can’t afford to, both figuratively and literally. Without a doubt, if he serves you a shit dinner, you’ll push him out of your life for good.

When you knock on the front door, the perceived silence on the other side of the door is broken with a clatter and muffled cursing. The quiet resumes and hangs in the air for a couple of seconds before the door swings open.

There stands Eddie, hair a little tousled. “Hello, hello!”

His stomach does somersaults at the sight before him; your clothes accentuate your figure, and your skirt suits you. Once again, you look stunning and appropriately dressed for a date.

Meanwhile, Eddie doesn’t have many options to choose from. The most formal thing he owns is a button-up shirt and it’s too dressy, but it’s all he has. Paired with it are his holeless black jeans. Before today, he never thought it was possible to be both over and underdressed at the same time.

“Come on in,” Eddie says, stepping aside with reluctance, allowing you to enter his apartment.

As soon as he opened the door to you, his mind turned into a whirlwind of second-guessing himself. The shirt is definitely too formal, but Eddie wants to prove that he knows it’s a date this time, and he means for it to be one. If only he owned an iron so that the material wasn’t as wrinkly as it is.

He wants to prove that he can clean up nicely, evident from the scent of aftershave and cologne. Eddie meticulously clipped his fingernails and tidied his eyebrows, ensuring that he is as presentable as possible.

“This is my castle,” He gestures to the space.

The entirety of the afternoon was spent tidying up and Eddie couldn’t bear to leave a single surface undusted. Any potentially embarrassing materials were tucked away and he washed all of his dirty dishes.

As you enter and survey his studio apartment, he takes the opportunity to rake through his bangs with his fingers. You spot his sketchbook sprawled open on the guitar amp and pick it up.

“Oh, those are nothing, you don’t have to-” Eddie moves forward and reaches out, intending to retrieve the drawing pad, but pauses when you point to the sketch he recently finished.

“This one,” you trace the lines of the drawing with your finger before looking over at him. “I’d get this one.”

“You’d let me give you ink?” There’s a hint of insecurity and surprise in his voice as he subtly retrieves the sketchbook from your grasp.

“Maybe. It depends if you’re still shit at it,” you shrug casually, interlocking your hands behind your back as you assess the living room area. Your attention falls on the antique bookshelf, adorned with miscellaneous items and framed photos. “Has Cliff let you take clients yet?”

“No, you’d be my first real canvas,” Eddie admits.

As you continue looking around, his gaze is one beat ahead of yours. His eyes land on it just before yours do, and his stomach drops upon spotting the one thing he forgot to hide.

“Oh my god!” You squeal, rushing over to the couch and scooping up Mr. Pickles. “Who’s this cutie?”

Pale as a ghost, Eddie stares blankly back at you. How the fuck did he forget to hide the one thing on this planet that rids him of all masculinity.

“I’ll introduce you another time,” Eddie silently urges you to put Mr. Pickles back in his spot, desperately hoping you’ll never bring it up again.

In actuality, he should be thanking himself for the oversight, because you look far more high-spirited than when you stood outside his door.

“I’m looking forward to it,” You brush over the matted fur on the bunny’s head before carefully placing him back on the sofa.

The tension dissipates on his body as he picks up on the change in your energy. It’s reminiscent of how happy you were to see him when you were drunk. But this time is different; it’s genuine, rather than influenced by alcohol.

You’re lured into the kitchen by the incredible aroma, and the steaming food matches the enticing smell. “There’s no way in hell you made that.”

“You bet your ass I did,” Eddie retorts with his hands on his hips while he makes his way from the front door to the kitchen.

You step closer to him. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before,” you purr, inching closer until your toes nearly make contact with his socked ones. With featherlight pressure, you place a tender kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

Eddie’s internal circuits fry as he tries to process the fact that he just got kissed on the cheek for the first time. His lungs refuse their vital function, denying him oxygen. He retreats by half a step, attempting to mask the blazing rosiness of his face.

“For god’s sake, I’m so sick of whatever this stupid game is.”

“What game? I’m not-” Eddie panics.

“You get me to throw myself at you by doing thoughtful shit like this, but when I finally make a move, you act revolted.”

“I swear to Christ I’m not playing with you. I mean, I’m not trying to,” Eddie explains, his words jumbling together. “I know I've been making a total ass of myself, and tonight was supposed to fix that. But I just- I keep screwing up because I like you and you make me so nervous.”

You scoff, halfway turned toward the door. “That’s hard to believe. You flinch if I so much as bump into you. You don’t want to touch me, I get it.”

A pang of guilt hits him like a baseball bat to the stomach. “No no no, I do! I wanna touch you,” Eddie admits. “Look, you mean so goddamn much to me. You deserve someone who can make you feel good, and I can’t do that.”

Still guarded, you sound agitated but you turn to face him nonetheless. “What are you talking about?”

His voice lowers, a whisper of shame. “I don’t know the first thing about pleasing a woman. Nobody wants to fuck the dorky virgin, y’know?” Eddie’s vision blurs from the tears veiling his vision.

You frown at the vulnerable quiver in his voice. “I do, I’ve been wanting to.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” he lets out a humorless laugh. “I wouldn’t be able to make you cum.”

“I have to disagree with you on that. You’re a fast learner,” You extend your hand to him at waist height.

Eddie stares at your outstretched hand, struggling to process the gesture. He holds his breath, torn between his anxiety and trust. Cautiously, he places his hand in yours.

The benevolent hold pulses a flash flood through his being, the frigid water jolting his systems alive. When you intertwine your fingers with his, the clamminess is evident against the softness of your palm. Insecurity floods him, worried that you’ll be repulsed by it.

Cracks of lightning electrify Eddie’s heart, rendering him unable to meet your gaze. Instead, he focuses intensely on your joined hands. “I have no idea what I'm doing though.”

“That’s okay,” you assure him with a confident smile. Giving his hand a slight squeeze, you add, “See, not so scary anymore, right?”

Eddie shakes his head, even though fear is still coursing through his veins. You pick up on his hesitation and knowing that he won’t do it himself, you guide his hand to your hip and leave it there.

He sort of caresses, not out of boldness, but seeking to alleviate the numbness in his fingers. The sensation has already spread to other parts of his body.

Your patient expression, graced with a grin, grows into a bright smile when you meet his eyes. Eddie’s confidence blossoms, and he uses his other hand to cradle your cheek.

Acquainting himself with the contours of your face, his thumb strokes lightly from beneath your eyes and along your cheekbone. He starts to smile too as his nerves give way to the feeling of reassurance.

As you tilt your head into his touch, your eyelids flutter closed, and you grasp at the loose sides of his shirt, pulling him closer. He steps forward willingly, but his voice retains an uncertain tone. “I really wanna kiss you, but I’ve never, uh…”

You lean in, and the tip of your nose gently brushes against his. The thundering of his heart in his ears drowns out everything but your voice.

“Close your eyes and follow my lead, okay?” The warmth of your breath encircles his lips, turning his knees to jelly. 

Eddie can’t even whisper a confirmation. At your request, he closes his eyes, leaving him solely reliant on his other senses. The smoothness of your lips against his registers as a gentle peck with just enough pressure for him to feel it. It lingers, and he finds himself incapable of moving his lips in response.

“Want another?”

With his eyes still closed, he murmurs, “Yes, please.”

Devilishly, you press a kiss to his wrist, the hand that is still gently cradling your face.

Eddie’s eyes open, a pout and a scowl simultaneously forming his reaction. “Nu-uh, right here,” he insists, leaning in eagerly. He’s caught up in the desire to feel it again but he’s still hesitant to initiate the kiss himself.

You happily close the gap and this time, Eddie slightly purses his lips against yours, doing his best to follow your lead. After giving it a few tries, he feels you withdraw but his head instinctively follows, chasing your lips.

His eyes swirl with affection as he grapples for something to say, feeling breathless and dumb. “Fuck, I don’t wanna stop doing that.”

“Then don’t.”

Finally, Eddie’s able to pursue, but only a fraction of a second before you. With determination, his pecks carry more verve. It’s easier than he thought it would be; granted, he can rely on his ability to keep a steady rhythm, a perk of being a musician.

Eddie didn’t think this could get any better—that is until your lips slot perfectly between his, wet and warm. He pauses, malfunctioning once more. As you kiss him deeply, his mind is dusted in a golden haze and it feels as though he’s floating within himself. Enveloped by the sensation of your hands on his collarbones, a soft noise escapes him.

Mortified, Eddie freezes. Instead of deterring you, it only spurs you on. You wrap your arms around his neck and mold your body against his. The intensity of the kiss only escalates, he’s chasing your storm, matching your every move.

Your fingers entwine in the curls at the nape of his neck, coaxing more noises from him. Eddie is so far gone that he’s unaware of the growing bulge in his jeans. His hand leaves your cheek, traces down your shoulder, and along the outside of your arm before clinging to your waist with both hands.

You hover over his lips, a stream of electricity fizzling between you. “Is it okay if I take my shirt off?”

Eddie forgets to respond but then nods fervently. With curious eyes, he watches intently as you lift your shirt, unveiling skin he’s never seen before.

He inhales and exhales shakily as your necklace falls back into its place against your chest. It’s not a swinging pocket watch, but Eddie is entranced nonetheless.

“You said you wanna touch me,” you draw his trembling hands up your sides. “Now’s your chance.”

Eddie’s hands ascend and meet the silky band of your bra, and you guide his palms forward to the plush foam padding. Your reassuring hold is encouraging, but Eddie tears his stare from your breasts to check-in. He finds you already looking at him, exuding a sweet demeanor. “Give it a try.”

Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobs in the thick column of his throat, his hands unmoving beneath yours.

“Like this,” You squeeze your hands twice before removing your guidance and allowing him to proceed at his own pace.

Adrenaline motivates him to cup them independently this time, and his cock twitches as he commits to the action.

“You’re doing great by the way,” You offer a smile.

Growing more confident, Eddie applies more pressure. His thumbs move in tandem, brushing over the area where your nipples are concealed. The innocent delight in his eyes burns dark into frustration after a few squeezes. Eddie huffs in annoyance at the fact that he’s only getting handfuls of padding.

“Easy, tiger. Want this off too?”

Heartened by the lack of ridicule, he feels safe. Regardless, Eddie fails to articulate more than a few words, his heart lodged in his throat. “If that’s okay with you.” 

“Come sit,” You suggest, taking his hand in yours to lead him to sit on the edge of the bed.

As he sits, Eddie thanks himself for having washed his sheets for tonight, despite never imagining that this would happen.

When you release his hand, both of them return to the plush of your waist, making himself at home there. The straps of your unhooked bra drape loosely on your arms, and his pupils dilate as the foam cups gradually gain distance from your body. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie says under his breath, his bottom lip shining after a swift swipe of his tongue.

Your hips receive an involuntary squeeze as his patience begins to waver. He then slides his hands back up to your ribs, using his thumb followed by the heel of his palms to graze the bottom of your breasts.

With a sigh of relief, Eddie no longer has to daydream about what they might look like. His beautiful brown eyes roam over your body like you’re a masterpiece, a sculpture carved from stone solely for him to admire endlessly. Savoring the moment, he takes his time to appreciate every second. Eddie doesn’t take your trust for granted.

After a minute or two, you scoot backward onto the mattress toward the pillows. “Let’s get more comfortable.”

He watches you recline half-naked on his bed, and his belly swirls at the sight. Eddie follows suit, crawling to you. Now positioned between your legs, Eddie hesitates as he looks down at you, your hips not making any contact.

His touch resumes at your waist, but this time he’s stroking the expanse of your tummy; it inadvertently brings comfort to both you and him. Until this moment, he’s never had the chance to see the tiny details on your face up close—the distinct aspects that compose your sheer beauty.

Eddie’s hazelnut curls hang over his ears as his gaze trails over your neck and chest. His intense adoration makes you want to hide, but the unease is melted away when he captures your lips with his own. Eddie feels like it’s already been too long since he last kissed you, the deprivation like that of extreme thirst.

Goosebumps prickle his fully dressed form, a surge of belonging filling the cracks in the surface of his heart. Timid pecking is a thing of the past, each kiss more fervid than the one before it. The wet click of your lips drowns out the inhibitions buzzing in his ears.

Eddie’s large hand paws at your breast, his thumb playing with your pebbled nipple, drawing a whine from the back of your throat. You tug him closer by his jeans, bringing his hips down against yours. Regardless of the denim barrier, this causes a change in him. When you lift your hips against Eddie, he grinds back just as needily.

As your lips part, he begins a trail of affection along your cheek, jaw, and down your neck. When Eddie reaches your collarbones, his mouth moves hurriedly. He’s itching to fulfill the longing that’s been something he’s imagined plenty of times before. Kissing every inch in his descent, Eddie hunches over and takes your nipple into his mouth.

The melodious sound that pours from you makes him painfully harder. His cock strains against the metal zipper of his jeans, fighting to defy the taut material. You arch into his mouth, and Eddie continues to grind against the apex of your thighs.

He licks his way across to give much-needed attention to your opposite breast, all the while maintaining stimulation on the other with his thumb. Eddie suckles and flicks his tongue, his breath hitting your bare skin like a sweltering midsummer heat wave.

The reciprocity of sincerity is blowing his mind; the way it feels to have your hands weaving through his hair. There’s a slight tug when your fingers catch on a knot, and the sting only fans the flames burning in his lower belly.

Eddie releases your nipple, leaving it bereft of the heat of his mouth. Following his previously explored path up your chest and neck, he bashfully looks into your eyes. “Could I, uh, kiss you down there, too?”

“Normally I’d have to ask for head. Are you sure?”

The melted milk chocolate of his irises practically drips off of his lashes as he blinks at you. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, sweetheart. I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”

“I’m not entirely convinced,” You coax him playfully.

“I’ll just have to prove how starving I am then, won’t I?” Eddie quips, moving out of the way to remove your skirt. As he does, the waistband slips from your hips and he slides it off your legs.

You’re in nothing but your panties and the white cotton is not particularly sexy, but they sure are familiar. That day at the laundromat, Eddie never imagined he’d see you in this exact pair at some point. He wonders if you did.

His fingertips tap their way up your thighs until they reach the band of your underwear. You look so cute with your hands resting across your belly like an awaiting princess—his princess.

Much like the skirt before it, the garment is tugged down the curvature of your legs. Your knees knock together as your legs reflexively close. Meanwhile, Eddie is mesmerized by the damp patch on panties hanging from his fist.

“You wanna keep 'em?”

Eddie nods with feigned innocence. These would go to good use, he thinks. 

“They’re all yours,” You grant his wish.

“I feel so spoiled,” he says while tucking them into his back pocket for safekeeping. Then, Eddie redirects his attention to the living art laid out before him. “Especially for getting to see you like this,” he drags his fingertips along the outside of your calves until they reach your knees.

Your legs fall open, proudly putting your glistening cunt on display for him. 

“Fuck,” Eddie says, moon-eyed. He repositions himself between your legs, lying on his stomach. Drool pools on his tongue, his mouth just inches away from your body. With one arm wrapped under your thigh, Eddie uses a finger on his free hand to collect the wetness that’s all for him.

“Don’t be a tease,” You fuss.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Eddie responds, ready to put his new skill to use. It starts with a testing press of his lips against your clit. He works his way lower, mouthing at you messily, making out with your cunt. Eddie licks his lips and rests his cheek against your inner thigh. “Can I use my fingers too?”

“Yeah, just take it slow,” You gather his hair and keep it out of his face so it doesn’t get in the way.

Eddie glides two digits through your folds, admiring the way the pads of his fingers glisten with the mix of your slick and his spit. Slowly, he eases his two fingers into your entrance. They sink deeper without facing resistance, and you soak him down to his bottom knuckles. Eddie looks up at you from between your legs, amazed. “You’re so wet.”

You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows to meet his gaze. “You own a mirror, don’t you? How could I not be.”

Flattered, Eddie smiles. He draws his fingers back before plunging them into you a little faster this time, though not by much. As you lay back and get comfortable, you instinctively roll your hips downward with each thrust of his fingers.

With his cheek still resting on the inside of your thigh, he’s unable to bring himself to speed up, downright mesmerized by the sensation of your velvety walls squeezing around his fingers. When he accidentally flexes and curls them upward, it elicits a pretty gasp from you.

Eddie’s gaze flits up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What was that?” he teases and does it again, deliberately. “Did you say something?”

You moan, “That feels amazing,” You run your hand up your belly to your breast, massaging yourself in tandem with his improved technique.

He finds a steady tempo, rubbing the spot that makes your nerves flare. With nothing else on his mind, Eddie is fully engrossed as he drives his digits into you. Your fingers suddenly appear before him to rub your clit for added stimulation.

“Oh my god,” You moan unabashedly, arching your back off of the bed in response to the heightened ecstasy.

“You like that?” Eddie looks up at you, feeling a rush of pride as you writhe.

“Yes- fuck, I’m almost there.”

Eddie boldly nudges your hand away with his nose, swiftly replacing your fingers with his tongue, flicking it passionately.

Your moans fill his ears as he laps at you, enjoying the way you taste when you unravel. He’s so in the zone that he fails to realize you’ve already reached your peak and become overstimulated.

You squirm in his grip, gently pushing his forehead away. “Eddie, Eddie!”

“Yeah?” His fingers stop abruptly, and he looks at you with doe-like eyes, your glossy sugar smeared all over his lips and chin.

“It’s too much,” You say exhaustedly.

“Shit, my bad,” Eddie frowns, disappointed that his fun has come to an end. He slowly withdraws his digits, admiring the way you’ve coated them. He drags his fingers down his tongue like your arousal is cake batter from a bowl. A low hum emanates from Eddie as he sucks them clean, inadvertently making a show of it. “God, your pussy tastes good. Even better than I dreamed it would.”

“Come here,” You beckon him, smiling blissfully.

Eddie wastes no time getting onto his hands and knees and crawls up between your legs. Hovering over you, he gazes into your eyes, cheeks dimpled. “I made you cum.”

“I can’t remember the last time I came that hard either,” you chuckle, noticing the sheen on his face. You grab your discarded shirt to wipe it off. “Here, let me-”

“No!” Eddie angles out of your reach, his brow furrowed. Using his still-sticky fingers, he wipes at his lips and chin, licking his digits clean once more. “Can’t let it go to waste.”

After you tuck his frizzy curls behind his ears, Eddie’s tender grin fades. Your hands slowly move down his pecs to his belt, and you tug at the metal buckle. Just as you free the leather from the prong, he stops you.

“Uh- wait.” The hesitance in his voice brings your pursuit to a halt. The way you shrink back causes his heart to squeeze.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to go all the way if you’re not ready.”

“It’s not that. Believe me,” Eddie reassures you. He brings a hand to the side of your face and strokes your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’m just worried that you’ll never wanna see me again ‘cause I'm so terrible in bed.”

Your shoulders raise and lower with the deep breath that you take. “You said you want to make me feel good, right?”

“More than anything,” Eddie declares in a heartbeat.

“Your cock would.”

Eddie nearly shudders and his voice burns raspy. “Yeah? You want it?”

You hook your fingers through his belt loops and tug, staring back at him intensely. “Not want. I need you inside me.”

“Christ,” he gulps and presses his hips forcefully against yours, dampening the denim. Eddie lowers his mouth to your shoulder and kisses it. “I wanna know what it feels like so bad.”

You turn your head and nibble his earlobe. “Let’s take care of that, shall we?” When your hands return to his partially undone belt, Eddie doesn’t intervene this time.

“I don’t have protection though.”

Blindly, you unbutton and unzip his jeans. “Side pocket of my purse.”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away and awkwardly scoots backward off the bed. His pants hang low on his slender hips, exposing the snug elastic band of his blue plaid boxers. After finding the condom, he inspects it. “I have no fucking clue how to use this.”

Sitting up, you hold your hand out. “I can put it on you if you want.”

Eddie hands it to you, then it occurs to him that he’s still fully dressed. While you’re tearing the foil package, he yanks down his jeans and kicks them away, his belt jangling. Only a few buttons are undone from the neck before he gets impatient. Eddie tears his shirt over his head, leaving his mane disheveled.

He pulls at the waistband of his precum-soaked boxers indecisively, but the sight of your beautiful naked body reminds him that it’s only fair. Eddie pulls them down and his anxiety has caused him to go partially soft. When you look at him, he wishes the world would swallow him whole. 

Your eyes rake across his slim frame, then meet his eyes instead of drifting below his waist. Eddie climbs back onto the bed, sitting on his haunches. You crawl onto your knees to join him and pull his body against yours, kissing him.

Mumbling against your lips, he tries to apologize for already failing you by being unable to stay hard, but his words falter as the kiss deepens, his worries becoming an afterthought. Eddie grips your waist, and the sensation of your breasts pressing against his bare chest makes him feel woozy. As soon as you break the kiss, he’s immediately filled with fear once more. “If it’s small or it looks weird, don’t tell me.”

You effectively distract him from his insecurities by trailing your lips down his pulse, dragging your teeth along the supple skin there. Eddie grips your ass harshly, a shaky sound pouring from his throat as you kiss your way down his body. He watches, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

As you finally look at his shy cock, you run your palms up and down the sparse hair on his outer thighs. “You’re the perfect size for me,” You compliment him with a smile. 

“I am?”

You suck a bruise on the pale skin of his waist. “Yeah, you are.” 

Eddie’s eyes close, his hands resting on your shoulders as he focuses on the sensation of you licking and biting him. Lost in the feeling rather than inside of his head, Eddie’s cock gradually rouses.

Having previously set it aside, you grab the condom. “Hold it still for me, please.”

“O-Okay,” he secures it at the base, his palm covering the trimmed thatch of curls. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” With one hand, you fit the band around the tip, and with your other, you roll the latex down his shaft. That alone causes Eddie’s mouth to fall open, a ghosted moan tumbling from his lips.

“There, easy peasy,” Sitting back up and wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him flush against you. His wrapped, twitching cock is trapped between your bodies. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

“I’m not sure I could if I tried,” Eddie says, his eyes flitting between yours. “Is this really happening?”

“It’s happening,” After kissing the tip of his nose, you settle back bringing him down with you to get comfortable, your head resting on the pillow.

Eddie returns to the previous position, this time with your legs hiked around his hips, causing his cock to rub against your mound. Afraid of poking around too much, he asks, “Would you do the honors, m’lady?”

“Why, of course,” you say with a giggle. You guide the head of his cock right where it needs to be and look into Eddie’s eyes. “Go ahead.”

He swallows hard and inches his hips forward, the tip of his cock breaching your entrance. Eddie sinks until he’s halfway sheathed by the hot embrace of your cunt. As he pushes the rest of the way in, his jaw falls slack.

“You doing okay?” You soothingly stroke the bulging veins on his forearms.

“Mhm,” Eddie mumbles with his lips rolled inward. After a few seconds without moving, he draws his hips back and then drives them forward. The moan that rips from his chest is unholy.

After two or three agonizingly slow and experimental thrusts, the motion comes naturally to him after all that practice he’s gotten from humping his poor pillow in this very spot. “Fuck me,” The hand that isn’t supporting Eddie’s weight fists at the bed sheets as he thrusts repeatedly, falling into a slow and steady pace. “Jesus fucking fuck.”

“Look at you go,” you moan out. “It feels amazing, doesn’t it?”

“Feels… god, you feel incredible,” Eddie grunts, propping himself up on both hands. His hair hangs down, swaying with the tempo of his hips. In this position, he can watch the bounce of your body with each thrust and he’s doing just that.

The grazing of your fingernails along his flexing hips throws off his pace. It weakens him, especially when you’re looking at him the way you are. Eddie is so consumed by the feeling of you wrapped around him that he can’t be self-conscious about the fact that he’s moaning every time he sinks back into you.

The shame of virginity has been lifted away as Eddie experiences this night of firsts with the girl he’s crazy about. Eddie is struggling to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss a single second of this. He’s captivated by the way you’re watching his length disappear inside you over and over.

You look stunning lying on his pillow, anchoring his body to yours. Before tonight, he considered the concept of moaning someone's name to be cliché because it only happens in the movies. But Eddie’s had a change of heart because he can’t stop saying yours. It’s all of you right here, right now, all over, making a man out of him.

His muscles begin to tremble, and he lowers himself onto his forearms. Eddie rests his forehead against yours, his hips stuttering. “I’m so close, baby. I don’t wanna cum,” He slows his movement to stave off his orgasm.

“I want you to,” You express while gliding your hands down his muscular back.

“No,” Eddie protests, ceasing his thrusts entirely. “I want you to cum again first.”

“This isn’t about me.”

 “Are you shitting me? It’s always been about you,” he pulls back to look into your eyes. “I’d do anything for you, you’re so damn worth it.”

Just before you have the chance to respond, Eddie unexpectedly rolls his hips. With one hand, he thumbs at your clit, watching how your eyes roll back. He doesn’t even have to look down to see the mess you’re making because he can hear it.

Eddie’s moans dance with yours as he pushes his knees forward, adjusting the angle of his hips to mimic a ‘come hither’ motion. He knows he’s found the spot he discovered prior when your legs spasm around him. In response, Eddie rubs your clit harder.

The way your walls tighten makes it all that more difficult for him to hold back. He’s on the cusp, his abs tensing as he tries to fight it. Your hand flies above you to push against the headboard, your other one occupied with gripping his flexing waist.

“Cum for me,” Eddie growls, frustrated with himself as he teeters on the edge, just seconds away from spilling into the condom.

Your brows furrow and your eyes squeeze shut, a rush of air getting caught in your throat as you climax.

“Yeahhh, that’s it,” Eddie’s abdominal muscles tense to their limit. “Oh- fuck,” His voice pitches higher.

“I’m yours,” You moan prettily and guide him down, letting him bury his face in your neck to give his arms a well-deserved rest.

“All mine,” Eddie says between his labored breaths. He grips and lifts your hips while you kiss his shoulder. Losing their previous steadiness, his strokes become shorter and more sporadic. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. I’m gonna cuh- uh- mmm.”

Eddie lets out a whimper as he delivers two unsteady thrusts before slamming his hips against you, burying himself as he orgasms. His ass tenses and ripples, the muscles contracting as he rides out his high.

Panting loudly, Eddie stills his movements completely and props himself up to look down at you. “Jesus Christ. After that, I wanna have you for dinner every day,” he says against your cheek before kissing it. “As a snack in the middle of the night,” Eddie adds, kissing your temple. “Shit, you’d be good for breakfast too. It’s the most important meal of the day, y’know.”

You let out a winded giggle, your bodies sticking together as he struggles to keep himself propped up.

“Sweetheart, can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” You tease and smile wide when he rolls his eyes and snorts.

Eddie takes your hand, flattening your palm against his chest so that you can feel how vigorously his heart is beating. “Is this what being in love feels like?” He asks tearfully.

“Yeah,” you nod, placing his hand over your own heart that’s thudding just as hard. “Just like this.”

Reblogs are greatly encouraged and appreciated! ♡

★My Masterlist

★Tip Jar

tags: @nj01 @tlclick73 @foreveranexpatsposts @madelynraemunson

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things 4 #eddie munson fics #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddiemunson #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie the banished #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things eddie #st4 eddie #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #st4 #virgin!eddie munson #inexperienced!eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one shot

[alotofrandomfangirling]

Roronoa Zoro NSFW Alphabet (Netflix live action)

Warnings: smut 🫠 and cursing (18+ / minors dni)

A/n: i can't stop writing for this man please help okay so i had a bunch of smut headcanons for live action Zoro so i thought it would be better to fit them in a NSFW Alphabet ajdlajakaj it's the first time i write any kind of smut so please forgive me for any mistakes 😅 (i also didn't check the grammar because i was too embarassed to copy and paste it on google translate lmao sorry about that too ajskajskaj) female reader is adult and everything is consensual 🙏🏻 i hope you like it!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Zoro is very gentle after sex, he likes to hold you close and kiss your forehead as you both fall asleep together.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He is a boob guy. He loves your boobs, staring at, squeezing and sucking on them. He also likes kissing the valley between them.

And for himself he likes his chest and arms. He is super proud of how much you love to roam your hands on his chest and arms to feel his strong muscles.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He licks every drop of your cum when he makes you climax with his tongue on your pussy (we know he has strong teeth, so i'm guessing his tongue works well too 👀). And it's freaking hot when he wipes his mouth after that and goes kiss you with the same hunger he showed before.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves when you nibble on his ear.

You've recently gotten obsessed with the three earrings on his left ear and you want to suck on them all the time. He acts annoyed when you do it, but deep down he loves it, it makes him feel all tingly inside.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Zoro wasn't very experienced when you met, but, after all this time together, you've done it so many times that now he already knows by heart the exact spots he has to hit to take you to complete bliss.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves when you're on top of him. Watching your beautiful face from below, your boobs moving up and down, grabbing your ass... it's like poetry for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Well, Zoro doesn't smile much in his normal activities, so the same applies to while having sex ajskajakaj he's usually more serious cause he takes being with you and pleasing you very seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Well, he's nearly a pirate so don't expect much ajdkajskaj but if you ask him he'll take care of it, cause he will honestly do anything for you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It may be surprising, but he is so romantic. The thing is your relationship is very based on love and trust, so sex for you is really an intimate moment for you to share your deepest feelings with each other. He makes sure to show you how much he loves you by taking care of you and pleasing you the best way he can.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jerks off thinking about fucking you from behind with you wearing a mini skirt Nami had lent you one day. Zoro was never the same after he saw you in that lmaooo the sight stuck to his mind so he often remembers it 👀

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Okay so hear me out: Zoro with a praise kink. Boy's had a rough past, so he appreciates every little act of kindness you do for him. He loves when you praise him and whisper sweet things in his ear, for how good he is or how nice he is doing. You can literally feel how much he enjoys that.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your shared room at the Going Merry. The rush of having to be silent so that the other straw hats won't hear you turns him on even more.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your voice. He loves listening to you moaning and telling him how good he makes you feel, it's like music to his ears.

(In fact, anytime you're feeling mischievous and want to mess with his mind, you just use that sweet voice that you know will drive him crazy)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degradation. Or hurting. Not at all. You were the best thing that ever happened to Zoro and he made sure to let you know that, so he wasn't going to call you names or any of that. Sex was also a very intimate and special moment between you two so he enjoyed you both exchanging only nice stuff.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves a good blowjob. Hell, he loves how good your mouth feels on his dick.

You love to see how he melts under your touch while you're sucking him off. He looks so pleased and makes such pretty noises moaning your name you want to keep going just to keep listening to that.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends. Zoro usually takes his time in pleasing both of you. But when he's a bit frustrated or angry and wants to release himself, he gets a bit rough, but never hurting you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He prefers the real thing, but whenever one of you is feeling needy, sure, he'll do quickies.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Zoro is a simple man: he gets to fuck you, he is happy. So usually risking and trying new things only happens when the idea comes from you (and you sure have good ideas very often *wink wink*).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Several rounds. Your man's stamina is on point ajdkajskaj

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Zoro doesn't really like toys. He says just the both of you are enough to "feel really good". i mean are there even sex toys in the op universe i'll be in debt in this one ajskajakja

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to go straight to the point so he doesn't tease much, except when he wants you to beg for it so he can hear that sweet sex voice of yours that he loves so much.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's not very loud, but he grunts a lot (and it's delicious for you to hear). He also frequently lets slip curse words in your ear when he's fucking you because he can't take all the pleasure.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

That time you were at Kaya's and he showed up wearing that suit? You could barely concentrate on dinner for how aroused you were seeing him in those clothes. He looked so. freaking. hot.

The second dinner was over and everyone went to sleep you pushed him to your bedroom and had him take his pants off so you could ride him like there was no tomorrow (suit still on of course cause you liked it ajdkajskaj).

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Let's just say those jokes about his fourth sword are actually true.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Zoro is horny for you all the time lol of course he understands there's a right time for everything but whenever he has the chance he wants to be with you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It doesn't take much for him to fall asleep. He'll do the job, feel good and then fall asleep for how tired he feels (but not before kissing your forehead and praising you for all that you did together 😉).

Template

#roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro smut #one piece x reader #one piece smut #opla!zoro x reader

[candy-rat]

🌷○•･{Change Of Pace}

♡Luke Castellan x fem!Demeter reader

♥︎Summary: you and Luke are good friends but that’s it, right? || Luke Castellan Blurb!

☆Warning: none!

★A/N: I’ve only read the first book and a bit of the second + the two movies so I’ll be basing Luke off of the series(Charlie Bushnell)

♪ credits: i forgot where I found the divider but it isn’t mine so if someone knows who it belongs to please let me know!<3

+ Barely proof-read🤧

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I mean he’s cute and all I won’t deny that but I don’t like him like that.” You told your friend in Aphrodite cabin.

“Love, are you sure?” She asked “I mean you two just have this weird connection, not in a bad way of course it’s kinda cute if you ask me.” Your friend huffed.

“Oh I’m sure, he’s just a real good friend you know.” You reassured.

“Sure.” She stated “speak of the devil!” The girl spoke up at the sight of Luke from behind your figure.

You turned around still tense from his sudden arrival.

Sure he made you nervous at times but that’s just cause you really look up to him as a friend, right?

“Oh, hey Luke!” You smiled shifting your position on the bench to face him.

“Hey.” He replied.

“Mind if I steal her for a bit?” He asked your friend.

“Sure, she’s all yours.” The girl said with a smirk.

You felt your face heat up.

You didn’t have a crush on Luke, did you?

You’re just overthinking it.

He looked back at you looking for approval.

You simply nodded with a smile and got up, what else were you going to do?

“So? Where are you taking me Mr. Castellan?” You asked.

“You’ll see, just be patient.” He reassured.

“Okay.” You sighed.

He continued to guide you to this ‘mystery location’, you hope you’ll be able to find your way back but who are you kidding you’d be happy get lost with Luke.

Maybe you had to accept that you may have a little tiny crush on the boy but there no harm in having a crush.

“We’re here.” The boy turned back to you interrupting your thoughts.

“Where exactly is here?” You comment.

“Here, just close your eyes.” He instructed.

“Why?” You questioned.

“Just close ‘em, trust me.” He reassured.

“Okay, okay.” You chuckled.

“Here.” He began to guide you to your location, his hand was placed softly on your waist.

His hand placement and close proximity was driving you crazy, and more so what this so seemed surprise was and when you were going to see it.

“You can open your eyes now.” Luke spoke.

You opened your eyes and you were met with a beautiful array of different kinds of flowers and plants.

“Luke, this is-“ you didn’t have words.

“I know you could easily grow something like this yourself, but when I found this I couldn’t help but think of you.” The boy blushed.

You didn’t know what to say, you were speechless, it felt you were being over dramatic but how else would one of Demeter’s daughters react when faced with a secret garden that’s been here for years maybe.

“It’s beautiful!” You said heading into the small garden.

“Yeah, it is…” All the boy could do was stare at you as he mindlessly agreed.

“Oh god Luke, you’re too sweet!.” You turned to the boy.

“Thanks, I’m glad you like it.” He sighed in relief.

“I more than like it Luke, I absolutely love it thank you so much.” You told the boy as you brought him in for a hug.

He froze for a moment.

It wasn’t often he got flustered.

Especially around his friends.

But you two were different.

“Anytime (Name).”

He wrapped his arms around you, savoring the hug.

It wasn’t often either you had moments like this.

It was nice.

He was nice.

Maybe you had a little more than a crush on Luke Castellan.

And maybe he was head over heels for you too.

But for Luke, you wouldn’t mind.

Neither of you would.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: I originally wrote this with Apollo reader in mind but I suddenly changed it to Demeter to fit with the story.     Also this is my first time writing for Luke so I hope it wasn’t the worse🤧.<3

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #x reader #pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #charlie Bushnell

[poraphia]

“PDA: Public Displays of Affection”

pairing • secret relationship!wilbur x reader 1448 words • 9.1.23 containing • secret relationship, sorry boys production, immense affection my masterlist ~! ღ mrs. mania ღ on Tumblr

“We’re about to film a new Sorry video. Want to give me a good luck kiss first?”

♡♡♡

There’s one thing about Tom Simons that everybody knows the moment you click on one of his videos.

Some viewers may find him annoying at first,

And frankly, it’s not like he’s wrong.

After Wilbur and I started dating we came to an agreement to keep our relationship a secret. There were a multitude of reasons for this. For one, we wanted to enjoy the relationship for ourselves and because of Wilbur’s music and streaming career, it would have been impossible to relish in such when there are hundreds of thousands of eyes on you. This leads to our next reason. Most of Wilbur’s friends are streamers, vloggers, gamers, you name it. That being said, most of the time we find cameras on us already. So, in order to keep up with our special secret, we tell our friends that we’re not dating so that it’s a much easier job keeping it on the down low.

So what happens when a younger boy who considers himself Wilbur’s brother constantly sees a woman constantly with Wilbur? Well, you’ll see for yourself.

I’m known to be Wilbur’s co-filmer and editor in his fanbase, meaning that even if we weren’t dating, I had to be constantly around him to help out with video planning and creating a digital diary as he was on tour. This week his friends were all coming to Brighton to shoot Chapter 2 for their Sorry! improv group.

It was the morning of, and I was met by the familiar, warming embrace of his arms slithering around my body. I scoot back a little bit, feeling his heartbeat steadily beat against my back. “Hey, are you awake?” He groggled out in a raspy morning face. I hummed in response, taking one of his hands to kiss the center of his palm. He pulled me closer to his chest as the fabric beneath us crinkled.

“I’m so sleepy…” I mumbled. With his hand, Wilbur smoothed my cheek, caressing my skin. I melted in his touch.

“I know, but we have to get up soon, darling,” He whispered. Gently, with his arm still wrapped around me, he sat us up in the bed. The morning sun peaked through the slightly open blinds, decorating our skin with streaks of light. He buried his face into the crook of my neck as the drowsiness slowly drained from me. His arms kept firmly around my torso, holding me as close as he could. Once we felt ready to get out of bed, we walked into the kitchen as I prepared a quick breakfast for the both of us.

“Do you want strawberry parfait for breakfast, my love?” I asked, looking inside the fridge.

“Yes, please.” He smiled. I nodded before grabbing the container of syrupy strawberries and Greek yogurt. Wilbur went inside the pantry to find the box of graham crackers. After he finished crushing them, he noticed me standing on my tippy toes to reach for the two glasses on the highest shelf. With a cheeky smirk, he walked behind me and lifted me up by the waist, earning a slight eep of surprise. Nonetheless, I was able to reach the glasses before he placed me back down with my feet touching the cold tile floor. I turned around, awarding him with a quick peck on the chin, before continuing on making our breakfast.

Sometimes, it was painful keeping this a secret, but I think it’s what makes moments like these more special.

Once we finished our breakfast and got dressed, we met up with the rest of the guys at a park in Brighton. Today’s film idea was to run a hotdog van of some kind, but instead, call them burgers. Honestly, don’t ask me, it was the guys’ idea. Most of the guys carpooled to the location, whereas Wilbur and I decided to take our own car. After some time walking to the park, we were both ambushed by Tommy and Charlie, who were already flopping around in hotdog costumes.

“WILBUR! (Y/N)! MY FRIENDS!” Tommy exclaimed, hugging the two of us. Wilbur pulled Tommy to the side, almost putting him in a headlock as they shared their own brotherly love. I hugged Charlie before stepping back to examine his outfit.

“You look… Meaty. You been working out?” I joked. He grinned before flexing one of his arms.

“Ah, so you’ve noticed my meaty and tender gains I see! I’ve been working on these babies just for this exact moment.” He said pridefully. Charlie flexed one of his muscles before kissing his bicep. I rolled my eyes before we both trailed back to the rest of the group. I greeted the rest of the team and even hugged Kristen to catch up with her since we last saw each other. Tommy and Wilbur then ran up to the group promptly as Russ explained exactly how the food truck was going to work. After some careful instructions, the film crew, which involved me, were told who was to record what. Per usual, I was directed to film Wilbur’s shenanigans.

“Alright, is everyone ready?” Russ asked, looking up from his clipboard. Everyone exclaimed their noises of agreement. I looked over to Will, who I noticed was patting down his pockets for something.

“Will, you okay?” Phil asked as he adjusted the scarf around his neck.

“Yeah, I just— I think I left my wallet. Uhh (y/n) can you come with me? It’s probably in the car.” He said, looking over to me.

“Oh— Yeah, sure.” I handed my camera to Russ in the meantime before walking with Wilbur to the car. I kept my hands in my pockets in the meantime to resist the urge to walk with fingers intertwined. It was far too dangerous now.

Once we made it to the car, I reached into my pocket to unlock it, but in return Wilbur just stood there, smiling at me. I tilted my head, a bit confused.

“Weren’t you going to go look for your wallet?” I asked. Instead, Will leaned on the car, smiling down at me with his chef’s hat a bit lopsided and his arms crossed.

“I actually did have my wallet. I just wanted to have a good luck kiss before we started filming.” He smiled. I rolled my eyes before grabbing him by the shirt collar so that he was now at my height.

“You know you can be annoying sometimes.” I scoffed, but a wide smile was plastered all over my face.

“I know. I just miss you.”

I placed a quick peck on his lips, but before I could pull away, Wilbur held me gently by the neck to keep me in place. Slowly, I felt my body melting by the touch of his soft lips as butterflies danced on my skin. I wrapped my arms around his neck, moving me closer to him. Tiny droplets soon started to drizzle down on us, but we weren’t leaving each other's lips anytime soon. That was until someone caught us.

“Wilbur? (y/n)? Guys it’s starting to rain and— OH MY GOD!”

We both immediately pushed each other away, only to meet with the shocked face of Tommy standing paralyzed in his hot dog outfit.

“OH MY GOD YOU GUYS ARE DATING! I KNEW IT. I FUCKING KNEW IT—”

“I— Uh— Tommy—!” I was rendered speechless as the poor boy rapidly glanced at the both of us. Wilbur ended up breaking the standstill as he walked up to Tommy, placing two hands firmly at his shoulders.

“Yes, me and (y/n) are dating.” He said firmly. “You’re not going to tell anyone, my boiled hotdog boy, alright?” All Tommy could do was nod in response, his mouth still open ajar. Wilbur patted him on the back before heading in the direction of the food truck. I jogged over to Tommy, shaking his shoulder a bit to snap him out of his thoughts. He turned to look at me, a hand running through his hair. I shrugged, a half-apologetic smile on my face before we both walked back to the park.

“To be fair, the reason I was so shocked was because last month I tried to set you two up on a date.” Tommy mentioned nonchalantly, playing with his fingers as he walked.

I chuckled a little bit. “That’s kind of funny—” until the realization hit. “WAIT HUH?”

♡♡♡

a / n ~ thought this was cute so I jotted it down like a couple mins before waking up lolol. Reblogs and likes are super appreciated mwahh

#poraphiafanfics #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot oneshots #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #will gold #lovejoy #wilbur hc #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur x reader #mcyt headcanons wilbur #wilbursoot #tommyinnit #tommyinit mcyt #sorry boys #the sorry boys #charlie slimecicle #philza minecraft #philza

[happilyhertale]

Destiny is all - Osferth x female!reader, Part 1

Summary: You are Finan's sister. You live in a village in Scotland, near the border with Northumbria. You lead a quiet life until your brother decides to visit you with his boys and your life changes completely.

Pairing: Osferth x fem!reader

Author’s note: Hey you (:

Now I am finally sharing my little Osferth story with you. The events are a little different from the story in the series. (No, Osferth will not die either). I hope you will enjoy it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 2.2 k

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The sun, which has been high in the sky all day, is slowly tilting towards the earth. Four men ride silently side by side. Every now and then an exhausted grunt can be heard. As soon as the grunt is silenced, it is usually answered with another grunt. They have been riding like this for days now. Uhtred, Finan, Sihtric and Osferth are on their way from the northernmost point in Scotland back to Wessex.

The men are exhausted by the long distance they have already covered on horseback. The not very restful nights they have already spent in various forests do not diminish their exhaustion.

"Lord. We could spend the night in a village today," Finan says after another grunt.

Uhtred turns slightly in Finan's direction, "If we ride through the night, we should be in Northumbria by tomorrow"

"But Lord… We should stop and rest. I'm tired of the sight of my horse's head... his ears in particular," Osferth chimes in.

Sihtric turns to Uhtred as well, "I wouldn't say no either"

Osferth continues to nod in agreement.

Uhtred sighs, "Very well… The next village is headed for"

"We would have a place to sleep there for sure too," Finan says to Uhtred with a grin. Uhtred sees Finan's grin and becomes curious.

"Do you have a sweetheart up here?" asks Uhtred with raised eyebrows.

"Not exactly. My family lives there and we could sleep and eat there"

"What? I thought you were from Ireland," Osferth looks at him questioningly.

Finan nods, "We're originally from Ireland. But my parents moved over with me and my sister"

Uhtred just shakes his head with a smile.

The men rode on again in silence. Every now and then a grunt can be heard. But it was a done deal, they were on their way to Finan's family.

You stand in front of your little house. The evening sun shines on your face and you enjoy it. You close your eyes for a moment. Your little house is located on the edge of a village, near the forest. You enjoy the peace and quiet that the location offers you, and that you can let your gaze wander into the forest at any time as soon as the hustle and bustle of the village becomes too much for you. Slowly you open your eyes again and take a deep breath. You still want to water the flower bed before you retire for the evening. As you put the bucket down, you hear noises in the forest behind you. You turn around, but in the twilight you can't really see if anyone is there. Out of habit, you reach for the dagger tucked under the skirt of your dress.

"Who is there?" you ask in a firm voice.

But instead of an answer, you only hear the rustling of the bushes at the edge of the forest.

Suddenly a Dane steps out of the forest and you instinctively hold up your dagger. You are ready to defend yourself. Your breath catches in your throat, but the Dane just grins at you. "Finan! I didn't know that your parents can also produce something beautiful", the Dane says.

Finan? How does he know your brother...?

"Aye! Lord! Shut up!", Finan suddenly stands next to the Dane. Your lungs fill with air again as you see your brother smiling at you from a short distance away.

You don't hesitate for long. "Finan!" you shout and run towards him. You throw your arms around his neck. He wraps his arms tightly around you.

"Heey... my little one," he says softly and presses you closer to him.

You sob a little. He loosens the embrace and takes your face in his hands, "Ey... y/n.... If I had known ya missed me so much, I would have stopped by sooner," he smiles at you. You wipe tears from your face and have to laugh for a moment.

"What are ya doing here?" you finally ask your brother.

"We're just passing through and I thought we were due for a visit"

Only now do you become aware and remember the Dane. But when you look behind Finan, you see two other men standing there. But your gaze immediately falls on the blond monk. However, he immediately averts his gaze from you when he realises that he has been caught staring. Now you notice another Dane. Somehow you seem to like this mixture of the troupe. Finan turns around as well, "Sorry y/n. This is Uhtred, Sihtric and our baby Monk, Osferth"

You notice the monk giving Finan a warning look. The Danes, on the other hand, give you a friendly nod. Finan turns back to you, "Where are mother and father? Are they in the house? We are starving!" Finan is all euphoric.

You gently touch his forearm, "Finan...", you speak softly. He looks at you, but you only shake your head slightly.

"What...?" he whispers, sadness crossing his face.

"The fever took them last winter... First mother, then father..." you whisper.

He shakes his head slightly now too and you wrap your arms around him. After a short silence, you hear Finan murmur into your hair, "You're here all alone?"

You nod, "That must be enough for you now"

He just nods slowly and you can still see the sadness in his face.

You smile up at him, "Come, let's go into the house... I've put on some soup"

Together you go into the house. The men sit down at the table and you serve them the soup. There is not much talking at first, as they simply enjoy the warm meal. When they have finished, you prepare ale for everyone. Light conversation now fills the room. Osferth tries to comfort Finan, to say something nice about your parents. But Finan doesn't want to hear about it at the moment. After a while you take the dagger, which is again under your skirt and presses uncomfortably against your thigh, and put it on the table.

"Feisty... You always carry a dagger with you?", the Dane, Uhtred asks you. You look at him a little amused, "Men sometimes don't understand what 'no' means. So it can't hurt to have something with you to back up your opinion"

Uhtred grins and raises his cup "I'm afraid that's true"

You grin at him and join him in a toast.

When there is a knock at the door, you get up and go over. You open the door and your good mood is immediately dampened.

"Edward... what do ya want here?" you ask, a little annoyed. Alarmed by your tone, Finan looks at the door. From the door, there is no view of the table and so Edward does not notice that he is now being overheard by four guys.

"Y/n... I thought... maybe you'd like some company tonight...?"

He is visibly drunk and grinning at you.

"No, Edward. I told you the other day that it wasn't going to happen again"

Finan's expression darkens.

"Oh come on... Don't you miss it...?" he winks at you.

"What would she miss?"

You startle a little as Finan suddenly stands behind you. Edward looks startled too and just stammers around. Words like "nothing" and "just making sure everything is okay" leave his mouth.

"Good. And do not worry, everything is fine here," Finan lets Edward know as he closes the door.

You look at him indignantly, "Finan! I can handle it myself!"

He just walks back to the table and takes a big gulp of ale. You stand in the room a little speechless. You look at Finan and shoot daggers at him. But Finan continues to stand with his back to you and does not look at you.

Sihtric and Uhtred just grin and look at each other. But you notice Osferth looking at you again. He is probably shocked that a woman would seek the company of a man even though she is not married. You sigh softly and go back to the table. You sit down and shake your head slightly.

Finan looks at you again, "What...? You're my sister. I'll always look out for ya. And... the last time I was here, ya liked Edward, didn't ya?"

"I did," you emphasise, "Until I found him between another woman's thighs"

Osferth chokes on his ale and you look at him somewhat amused. He has to grin now, too, and he wipes the ale running down his chin with his hand. You have to chuckle a little, but somehow you like the sight.

But Finan turns your attention back to himself, "He did what? That bastard... Let me go to him..." Finan is about to get up, but you pull him down by his arm.

"No... There's no need for that. That's done and in the past. Really," you smile at him, but Finan doesn't really look convinced.

He just grumbles something to himself and drinks from his ale. You stroke his arm gently.

The later the hour gets, the louder the conversations become. You laugh a lot and talk to each other across the table. You enjoy having your brother and his friends with you. At some point, Uhtred has persuaded you to show him how you can defend yourself against men with your hands if you don't have your dagger with you. But it always ends up with Uhtred putting his arm around your neck from behind or you just giggle and somehow try to bring Uhtred down.

Eventually you sit down at the table again. You are still a little out of breath when Osferth, who is now sitting next to you, addresses you directly, "Lady... isn't it dangerous for a woman to live here alone?"

Uhtred interjects, "Well... if the possible attacker just stands still and doesn't fight back, then y/n has a chance to defend herself," Uhtred grins at you.

But you do not answer Uhtred, instead you kick him under the table.

Uhtred laughs as you turn back to Osferth, smiling.

You look at him curiously now, "Would it be safer for a woman somewhere else?"

He scratches the back of his neck, "Well... if you were at least in company... and there was no Edward lurking outside your door"

You have to chuckle a little and notice a smile forming around his lips too as it dawns on you. "Ooh yes! I'll come with ya"

Now Finan chokes on his ale and Uhtred grins again. As he calms down, he looks at you, "No way. You're safer here than being out with us"

"Finan!" you utter indignantly, but he just shakes his head.

When Sihtric speaks up, "Honestly, she's probably safer with the four of us. There's no one here to look after her"

Uhtred nods slowly in conviction.

"And if we go into battle?", Finan looks slightly overwhelmed.

"Then of course I won't be there. Then I'll cook you dinner in the meantime... Or keep the bed warm," you answer with a grin. As a sister, you know what drives Finan up the wall.

He gives you a warning look and continues to shake his head, "That's not funny... and that's out of the question"

He stands up and goes outside to pee.

Now you shake your head and stand up.

"Guys... It's late... I'm going to sleep now. This will not end well here otherwise"

Sihtric and Uhtred nod at you. Osferth smiles slightly at you, "Good night lady y/n" and you return his smile.

When Finan returns, he sees that you have gone to bed. He sighs and sits back down at the table with the boys. Uhtred's gaze is on Finan, "You know it would be the right decision. She's here all alone, and I'm sure Edward's not the only one knocking on her door"

Finan gives him a warning look.

"I'm just saying. Your parents aren't here anymore, she has no one here to look after her. And with us, she'd have four men by her side looking after her", Uhtred continues

Silence now reigns at the table as the boys continue to drink their ale. Until Finan just nods and gets up from the table again. "Okay... But if even one of ya tries to hit on my sister..." he adds warningly before disappearing into an adjacent room.

The next morning you come out of your chamber. Three men lie on furs on the floor. Light snoring fills the room. You leave the house and go into the garden behind it. Everything is still quiet, a few birds are chirping. You watch as the sun slowly rises and makes the shadows of the forest look less threatening.

Suddenly Finan is standing next to you. You are startled and flinch briefly.

"Holy Lord! Finan!", you lightly punch his arm. He says nothing, but smiles slightly. He also looks in the direction of the sunrise.

"Ya can come with us. Although I know it's dangerous for ya to accompany us... But I also have to admit that it's probably more dangerous for ya to stay here alone..."

You smile at him.

Slowly he looks in your direction, "Ya have to listen to me though"

You grin at him, "I never have Finan"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357 @chainsawsangel

#osferth #osferth x y/n #osferth x reader #osferth x you #osferth smut #osferth tlk #baby monk #the last kingdom #seven kings must die #osferth imagine #osferth the last kingdom #osferth fanfic #uhtred of bebbanburg #finan tlk #sihtric #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #ettore #tom bennett

[jsluvtzu]

location

im nayeon x fem!reader

summary: there’s no point in hiding, she already knows.

cw: hs!au, smuttt, mentions of killing, cursing, nayeon is soso jealous, men dni

wc: 2.7k

a/n: this took forever to come out i’m sorry!! but jealous/possessive/toxic nayeon.. i need you…

“wait, so you’ve never gone anywhere without letting her know first?”, your friend was appalled at hearing how nayeon kept tabs on you at all times.

“no, never. i always have to call her first and tell her exactly where i’m going and when i’m gonna be back home. it’s fucking ridiculous.”

you were beyond frustrated with your girlfriend’s possessive nature and borderline stalking.

“well.. except for today.”

“holy shit?? she doesn’t know you’re here? what if she kills you..” your friend’s eyes widen at her sudden realization, “what if she kills me??”, she points at herself and watches as you smack your forehead and lean back against her couch, cackling at her ridiculous question.

“mia, she’s not gonna kill you, relax. she’s just a little protective.”

honestly you were trying to convince both her and yourself. there was always a small possibility that your girlfriend could actually kill somebody.

you knew how carried away she got when it came to you.

—

nayeon was the captain of the cheer team. the popular superstar who ran the social scene at school. she was always getting hit on by random boys and no matter how many times she rejected them, they always came back desperate for more.

people basically kissed the ground she walked on, willing to do anything to please her and make her fall for them. it was an honor to get even a second of im nayeon’s attention.

you however, couldn’t care less even if she was in the same class as you.

in your 6th period physics class, being able to have nayeon as a lab partner was like a dream come true. boys would swarm her desk like bees immediately at the mention of a partner lab, but you never understood the big deal behind it.

of course you thought nayeon was pretty.

her daily pinked-out outfits, perfectly styled hair, not too heavy makeup, and the skin-tight cheer uniform she wore every friday. everything she wore accentuated her proportions insanely.

she was beautiful, but losing your mind over her like everyone else was just pointless to you.

you had one person you were willing to be friends with out of the whole class. mia.

she was just like you. normal and not nayeon obsessed. the two of you always stayed towards the back of the room and kept to yourselves. nayeon noticed that.

well more specifically, nayeon noticed you.

she noticed the way your hair was always a little messy, your oversized shirts always had a little wrinkle to them, your pants were always too baggy, and your worn out converse were caked in with dirt and childhood memories.

she could fix you.

when nayeon first approached you about her overdue homework in the halls, you acted as if she was bothering you instead of granting you the privilege of her presence. it wasn’t the usual interaction she would have with somebody.

unlike the rest of the school, you were the only one able to make eye contact with her and not fold in half.

for the first time, nayeon could have a genuine conversation with someone without being treated like a celebrity.

you were special to her. and she wanted you all to herself.

when you two started dating, word spread around like wildfire. everyone wanted you dead.

the football team threatened you everyday, calling you a lowlife loser and confidently describing the ways they would steal nayeon away from you.

it’s not like you were worried about nayeon being “stolen” from you. it was bound to happen given her popularity. but nobody knew that it was actually nayeon who was worried about you being stolen from her.

she was terrified of losing the one person who could actually love her for who she is and not just what she looks like.

nayeon was worried about one person in particular. your friend, mia. you were always oblivious to the fact that she had a slight thing for you.

the subtle touches here and there, the way she complimented you, the way she looked at you. it was all just platonic to you, but to nayeon, she was a threat.

now imagine how she feels when she finds out you’re suddenly at mia’s house. alone with her.

—

there was a random movie playing in the background while you both sat on the couch sharing a blanket, talking about your girl problems.

mia listened to you with a heavy heart, knowing she could definitely treat you better than nayeon can.

“is she just protective or is she crazy..? i mean you deserve to go places without her knowing your whereabouts 24/7 right? it’s your life, you can do whatever you want. if i was your girlfriend, i wouldn’t be so fucking insane.”, mia was disappointed at how long you’ve had to put up with this.

“hey, she’s not insane okay, it’s all just new to her.. the whole authenticity thing with another person. she doesn’t know how to handle it yet.”

you were slightly offended at mia’s harsh words about your girlfriend, but you agreed with her nonetheless. it was draining having to constantly tell nayeon where you were all the time.

a sudden buzz on your phone made you jump and freeze at the fear of facing your reality.

nayeonie 🎀 1m ago i’m outside.

“what is it, y/n?” mia asked with a hint of concern in her tone, seeing how your demeanor changed.

“she’s.. outside.”, your heart dropped reading your girlfriend’s text, scrambling your brain together to figure out how she tracked you down.

“what do you mean she’s outside??”

“i don’t fucking know, mia. okay?! she just found out somehow, and now she’s fucking here.”, you didn’t mean to yell at her, but your anxiety overtook you.

“i have to go.”

you threw the knitted blanket off your legs and grabbed your bag, racing out the door without saying another word.

nayeon’s car was parked along the curb and her almost illegally tinted windows blocked you from seeing her face.

you slowly walked towards her car, clutching your belongings tightly. a weak attempt at stopping your heart from beating out of your chest.

when nayeon was angry, it was like a flipped switch. she became explosive and aggressive.

but surprisingly, when you opened the door, nayeon kept her eyes straight ahead. she didn’t say a word to you. she had her left arm hanging loosely over the top of the steering wheel, and her right hand gripping the gearshift, fingers tapping a frantic beat.

you were afraid to break the silence. the atmosphere was suffocating and filled with nayeon’s concealed, but obvious irritation.

“how.. how did you know where i was?”, your leg bouncing restlessly and your voice hoarse from nervousness.

nayeon didn’t respond and that only worried you even more. usually she would be screaming in your face about something like this, but today? pure silence.

“nay.. answer me? please?”, you turned to look at your girlfriend and saw her stoic expression. you hated this. you would rather just hear her go off on you instead.

“i’m sorry for not telling you, okay? i just needed some space.”

nayeon slammed down on the brakes and your whole body jerked forward. your mouth fell open, shocked and unable to form any words. you were just glad it was a secluded road with no cars behind.

“space? you just needed some fucking space?”

nayeon stared daggers into your soul, her eyes darkened by her jealousy.

she pulled over to the gravelly side of the road, taking her key out and clicking off her seatbelt.

somehow she appeared on your right side in the blink of an eye, yanking the door open and forcefully grasping your arm.

nayeon peeled you out of the seat, simultaneously opening the backseat door with one hand. she guided you forward until you reached the perfect spot for her to shove you down into the hard leather.

you winced at her roughness and caressed your head in pain, composing yourself enough to sit up and scoot yourself back against the window.

“thought you could just go to some other bitch’s house and i wouldn’t find out hm?” nayeon slid into the seat behind the passenger’s and slammed her car door shut.

she was smiling like an absolute psychopath. her face contrasted her words drastically between her soft tone and bared teeth.

“was the ‘space’ you needed in her bed? huh? needed some space between your fucking legs?”

nayeon surveyed the skimpy clothes you wore, messing with the thin fabric of your skirt.

“you even dressed up all nice and pretty for her baby. you were tempting her weren’t you? hm? just wanted her to see all your pretty parts?”

nayeon rubbed her warm hands along the length of your legs to the insides of your thighs, squeezing them lightly on the way up.

“please can we just talk about this, nay. i don’t wanna fuck right now.”, you were trying so hard to fight back the urge to give in when you felt your girlfriend’s hand get dangerously close to your clit.

nayeon hummed and moved her hands up to your waist, rubbing her thumbs over whatever was exposed from your tight crop top.

“but there’s nothing to talk about, is there, pretty girl? you knew this would happen. you knew i would find you.”

nayeon moved to the middle of the seat and grabbed your legs, pulling you over to straddle her lap. her hands flew to your ass, rubbing and grabbing at your flesh under your skirt, making you whine.

“nayeon, i’m serious. i’ve never told you mia’s address before, you’re fucking scaring me.”, your hands wrapped freely around her neck, feeling her warmth radiating against your fingertips. your faces were impossibly close together in her cramped car and your lips grazed each other faintly.

she smiled at you again. “i have my ways, sweetheart.”, nayeon leaned in to kiss you, but you pulled away.

“i’m not giving you anything until you talk to me.”

you weren’t going to deny the fact that you were unbelievably horny right now, you just wanted to clear the air beforehand.

“i don’t think you have much of a choice in this position, angel.”

throwing your head back in annoyance was a bad idea.

nayeon took that opportunity to attack your pulse point with her soft lips and wet tongue.

her arms held your body tight against her, locking you in with no escape.

your whiny moans only gave nayeon the primal urge to nip and suck on your perfume soaked skin.

she kissed her way down your throat to bite the point of your shoulder and ran her tongue back up to your ear, whispering in a deep, raspy voice that sent chills down your spine.

“g’na mark you all up for that desperate little bitch to see exactly who you belong to.”

bruises and bite marks immediately formed on every inch of your neck, evidence of your girlfriend’s sadistic message to mia.

nayeon shifted her hand underneath your skirt and palmed your pussy through the damp fabric of your cotton panties, cooing and mocking you for being turned on by her teasing.

she kept one arm wrapped around your lower back, her middle finger tracing circles lightly around your clothed clit.

soft moans escaped your lips and you found yourself subconsciously grinding against nayeon’s hand.

“aw, is my pretty baby getting all needy for me? does she need me to fuck her that bad?”

you nodded your head and whined in nayeon’s ear, trying your best to sound as sweet as possible.

nayeon’s lips made contact with your neck again, sinking her teeth into your flesh, driving you absolutely crazy.

she quickly moved your panties to the side, giving herself free reign to make you feel good.

she ran her fingers through your slit a couple times before inserting herself inside you slowly.

nayeon’s fingers were long. everytime you compared hand sizes, the length of them next to yours triggered the most sinful thoughts in your mind. the way she could palm your full asscheek with one grab drove you crazy with need.

the tips of her two fingers kissed the deepest part of your cervix when she bottomed out inside of you. she kept her movements still and allowed you some time to adjust to her length.

you let out a drawn out moan and brought your own hand down to grab at nayeon’s wrist.

nayeon pulled out of you slowly, staring at you with nothing but lust in her eyes.

when she left your pussy feeling empty, you mewled and gave her your best puppy eyes, pleading for her to continue fucking you with her stupidly long fingers.

“please.. just fuck me already, please baby, ‘need you..”, your hips chased her fingers in search of your own pleasure, but to no avail. nayeon just tsked at you and gripped your hip to stop you from squirming.

“you know what i want, sweet girl.”

it took you a moment to realize what she was asking for, but you quickly remembered how much nayeon liked to watch you fuck yourself on her fingers.

you nodded and sank yourself down slowly onto nayeon’s digits, keeping eye contact with her the whole time. you forced your eyes to stay open, letting out short, breathy moans.

“that’s it baby, that’s my girl.”, nayeon praised you as you moved your hips in a rhythm, riding her fingers and pressing your forehead against hers.

“just keep looking pretty like this for me. fuck.. all for me. you’re all mine, right baby?”

your eyes were squeezed shut, but you could tell that nayeon’s gaze never left yours. her tongue running across her lips, licking them to keep herself together.

she helped you out by thrusting her fingers in sync with your movements, matching your pace. your clit landed perfectly on her flexed palm every time you lowered your core back down.

“yes, fuck- ‘m all yours nay- only yours.”

nayeon could tell you were getting close when she felt your walls tightening around her and your pace getting sloppier.

“yeah? you mean that?”

“mhm, fuck- nobody else can fuck me like this. god, you feel too good-“

you were so, so close to cumming. the built up pleasure in you was ready to release, but nayeon had a different idea in mind.

hearing you reaffirm that you were hers made it incredibly hard for her to control the urge to just fuck you senseless, but she didn’t want you to have that sweet release. not after the stunt you pulled. you were just lucky she was even touching you right now.

nayeon snatched her fingers out just when you were at the edge of your high, steadying you with both hands back at your waist.

“aw, did my dumb little baby really think she was gonna cum after she tried to be sneaky like that? poor thing..”, she was taunting you now by slapping your clit harshly, knowing it would make you finish anyways.

you gripped at nayeon’s shoulders, bunching up the sleeves of her shirt in your hands and hiding your face in the crook of her neck, mumbling out small apologies in between choked whimpers.

nayeon heard another alert ring on your phone. you were too fucked out and tired to be aware of it, so she hugged you with one arm and leaned forward to reach for your phone in the cup holder up front.

she typed in your password and went to your messages to see a text from her.

mia 🧸 2m ago u good?? hope ur gf didn’t get jealous or wtv lmao

your “gf” laughed at mia’s audacity, tapping the camera icon next to the message bar.

“smile for the camera, baby.”

nayeon lifted your head off her shoulder and adjusted the strands of hair that stuck to your forehead with sweat, angling the phone to capture every freshly purple mark she left on your neck and your cutely flushed face.

you heard the sound of the photo being sent and looked down to see nayeon with a big smile on her face, typing something along with it.

“ 'd you really have to do that, nay?”, you shook your head at her while wiping the sweat off your top lip.

“it’s either this, or i kill her and her whole family.”

and she meant every word.

#twice imagines #twice x reader #twice smut #kpop x reader #kpop gg #nayeon x reader #nayeon smut #im nayeon

[theostrophywife]

here in your arms.

author's note: couldn't resist writing for my little foxy boy. this is the twin to this request.

eris preferred to sleep alone.

at least, he used to. when it came to his bedchambers, the autumn court heir abided by one simple rule: he could invite whomever he pleased to bed, but they were not to overstay their welcome by any means. it was a good rule and one that he had upheld for centuries. until you came along.

eris wasn’t even sure how it happened. the most likely scenario was that the two of you had stumbled into his bed after a night of drinking and debauchery, taunting and teasing one another as you were wont to do. you were the one person at court whose sarcasm rivaled his own. ever since you where children, you had kept eris on his toes with your sharp wit and fiery personality. you challenged him and though he'd never admit it, the future high lord was absolutely soft for you.

perhaps that was why he hadn’t objected when you had fallen asleep on his bed, blankets greedily wrapped around you while you cuddled with his favorite pillow. you looked so serene laying there, still dressed in your ridiculous ball gown with your hair loose and unbound, fanning around you like a waterfall and framing that beautiful face eris had come to memorize.

he had simply crawled in beside you, his eyes heavy from the alcohol and his thoughts flowing like honey. the last thing he remembered was your hand reaching for his, weaving your fingers together.

the autumn court heir convinced himself that it would only be that one exception, but then he laid in bed the next night, tossing and turning. unable to sleep without the warmth of your body next to his or the soft breaths that lulled him into sweet dreams or the way that you reached for him even when you were unconscious.

he thought he could will it away. eris had survived centuries sleeping alone, so there was no reason for him to suddenly crave a bedside companion. he didn't need anyone to cuddle with. night after night, that's what he told himself. until two days passed, then three. finally after an entire week of fitful sleep, eris admitted the plain, ugly truth to himself.

you had utterly and completely ruined the male.

so he pushed aside all of his pride and walked to the other end of the forest house where your bedchambers were located. you had opened the door to find the rumpled, weary redhead glaring at you with accusation.

"what have you done to me, woman?"

you yawned, pulling your robe on tightly. "i have various schemes and plots against you at the moment, so you'll have to be more specific than that, pumpkin."

eris sighed exasperatedly and marched right into your suite. you shut the door behind him, watching with an amused smile as your friend paced in front of the hearth. "yes, eris why don't you come on in. it's not like you were interrupting my sleep or anything. of course, midnight is a perfectly reasonable time to drop in unannounced."

the eldest vanserra rolled his eyes. "i can't sleep!" he whirled around, folding his arms in a regal, yet disdainful way. "and it's your fault. it's been an entire week and i cannot take it any longer."

"and how, pray tell, is your sudden bout of insomnia my doing?"

"because," eris stated matter-of-factly, "ever since that night that you fell asleep in my bed, i haven't been able to get your damned lily soap scent out of my sheets. my room is too quiet without your obnoxious little snores and my legs are perpetually warm without you pressing those frozen icicles you call feet against them."

"let me get this straight," you said with a snort. "you marched all the way across the forest house, just to insult my soap, my snoring, and my cold feet."

"as future high lord, i am allowed to voice my displeasure with court subjects."

"as your loyal subject, i am also allowed to tell you to kindly fuck off."

eris bit back a smile. "i'm being serious, y/n. i cannot lose any more of my beauty sleep. it is absolutely maddening."

you rolled your eyes. "then stop being an insufferable twat and sleep with me."

the redhaired male opened his mouth for another snarky retort, but you merely tugged him towards the bed. you peeled back the covers and gestured for eris to make himself comfortable. he did so, albeit looking a bit peaked as you slipped in beside him.

“oh, you look positively virginal eris.” you said with a chuckle. “fret not pumpkin, i have no plans on ravishing you. now come cuddle before i come to my senses and send your sorry arse back.”

eris scrunched his nose in feigned annoyance. “you’re such a bossy little fox. you are aware that you’re speaking to the heir of the autumn court with such insolence, aren’t you?”

you tugged him to you, pinching his cheek as he laid against your chest. “i wouldn’t have to resort to insults if the big, bad future high lord had the balls to simply ask for what he wanted.”

“and what do i want?” eris asked, shifting to face you as you ran your fingers through his luscious hair.

“to be babied,” you declared. “admit it, pumpkin. you just want someone to play with your hair and cuddle you at night and give you all the kisses.”

“you’re wrong,” eris declared, his lids fluttering shut as you snuggled against him. “i don’t want just someone. i want you, little fox.”

you smiled. “well, i’m already playing with your hair and cuddling you so all that’s left is —“

eris took your face in his hands and pulled you down to him. his lips were velvet against yours, playful and teasing just like the male you were kissing. butterflies erupted in your stomach as eris clutched you closer, his breath warm against your cheek as he deepened the kiss, filling you with the taste of freshly picked apples and rich cinnamon with a hint of mint toothpaste. eris pulled away reluctantly, pressing his forehead against yours.

amber eyes full of heat pierced through you as you smirked. “it took you damn well long enough.”

eris rolled his eyes fondly before pulling you against his chest. “you absolute menace,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “you’ve finally pierced my wretched heart. it feels as horrifying as i imagined.”

you buried your face against his neck, smiling against his skin. “good night, you insufferable drama queen.”

#i am simping #eris #eris vanserra #eris fluff #eris fic #eris vanserra x reader #eris x you #acotar fluff

[kairiscorner]

okay I don’t know if you know that one video of kim kardashian taking off her dress and asked pete davidson ‘babe, do you want to shower with me really quick?’ and then he just dropped his phone before following her like a little boy NOW imagine THAT with miguel🤭🤭

HELLO, ok so i only found out about it when you brought it to my attention, and LMAO...... mans is so down bad for her (like me for miggy <333) I REALLY LOVE THIS IDEA AAAAAAA I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS <3

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

babe, do you wanna shower with me real quick? — miguel o'hara x reader

summary: miguel has been focusing too much on work that you think he deserves to focus on something else, something much more worthwhile–those strings on the back of your dress, you believe, are better for him to focus on. word count: 557

you looked up at miguel who was tirelessly working on hunting down the location and coordinates of several anomalies and assigning units to track and take them down, but you wanted miguel to get off work now and let him be pampered by you. of course, he could never say no to his sweet little partner, his sweet little partner who was just excellent at tempting and swooning him every chance you got.

"miggyyyyy..." you called out for him from below as you slinked around his office, with him momentarily pausing his tapping and scrolling on the screens at the sound of your bewitching voice ringing throughout his ears. he tried his hardest to keep his concentration intact, but when it came to you... all focus would be put on you, and you alone.

"what is it, nena?" he asked you in a composed voice, one that tried not to sound too curious at your sudden arrival. you smiled, you knew he couldn't say no to your offer. you stepped closer towards miguel's platform as it slowly descended; he hadn't brought his platform down for anybody all day, not until you came and gave him a reason to with your arrival.

you waited until he turned around slightly to face you, and when he did, you began to toy with the strings on the back of your dress as you looked up at miguel. his mahogany brown eyes were focused now on your own gleaming ones as you smiled mischievously. "wanna... take a little break, mig?" you asked him in a sultry voice, which made miguel pause again for a little bit. you know he could never say no to you when you used that voice on him, you really were his little temptress.

miguel took in a small breath and resumed his work. "querida, i'm awfully busy right now." he said in such a nonchalant voice, but there was no fooling you–he just needed a small... push to say yes. you chuckled lightly at his excuse. "well then... guess you don't wanna shower with me, then." you teased as you pretended to be disappointed and looked down at the ground.

and at that moment, when miguel heard the words, 'shower with me,' he immediately tore his eyes away from the screens and hopped off the platform–his eyes wide and his lips apart slightly at your offer. he walked over to you in a slight hurry as he muttered, "ah, nevermind, then, someone else can take care of that. now, shall we?" he offered you as he placed his right hand on your shoulder, and his left index finger curled as he lightly ran it across your bare back.

you giggled at miguel folding for you all of a sudden and put your hand on his as you turned your head around to meet his gaze. "of course, miggy." you cooed to him as you pulled yourself away from his touch and teased him at the sight of you toying with the strings behind your dress that were the only things holding it up. forget the anomalies' coordinates, all miguel can focus on right now are those flimsy strings on your dress that he'd rather want to tear off of you.

such a tease, you are, and yet every time... he folds for you. every. damn. time.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @jrrantss @fictarian @yuridopted0 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction #atsv #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv imagines #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse imagines

[d0youc0py]

👋🏻 Hello! May I please request something for the 141 boys with Ale and rudy? Where reader goes berserk on the field and the boys have to calm them down cause they are completely out of it ?

He was thankful he was the one who trained you or else he would be on his ass. Him shouting your name seem to have little effect on you, those normally soft eyes glazed over with such malice it made his knees weak.

He finally maneuvered you to where he wanted you, trapped between him on the wall, your back pressed tightly against his chest. Your legs kicked about, trying your absolutely hardest to escape out of the iron grip he had you in.

“Fucking Christ kid, it’s me.” The lowness in his voice seemed to lull you more than the shouting. He could feel your rapid heartbeat. “It’s over, yeah? You did good.” He kept his voice soft, only speaking up to communicate his location through the comms. Your legs began to give out and he allowed both of you to sink to the floor. You rested your heated head against the icy wall. His grip on you loosened when he realized you weren’t trying to kill him anymore.

He kept you against his chest, hoping to anchor you. There have been many times he wished he had someone to bring him back down- although he would never admit it. He was use to fighting alone, but maybe with you it could be different.

“I-I-I.” You couldn’t even get a syllable out, every letter getting cut off by a whimper.

“It’s alright.” His voice was so soft- so understanding. Didn’t he see the total mess in front of you? “Come on.” His firm hand gripped your arm guiding you into an opposite room, away from your mess. “Breathe with me.” His gunmetal blue eyes were trained on you, making sure you did what he had asked you to. Your frantic eyes darted around but he held your chin in place. “Breathe with me.” He repeated. You did as you were told.

The lightness in your head slowly began to fade, but you couldn’t shake the uneasiness in your legs. You gripped onto his vest for support and he made no move to stop you.

“I don’t know what happened.” You were finally able to get the words out in a soft pant. He nodded his head an assuring half smile on his lips. He had always been calm on the field, but he had been a witness to this many times.

“It’s alright.” He whispered. “Gonna have to work on getting you out of that little head of yours.” He tapped the furrow lines between your brows.

“Shite.” He growled. He had heard the screams from upstairs, his feet making quick work of the steps. “Y/N.” He scolded. He sounded like he had just discovered a dog chewing on his favorite pair of shoes- not like he just walked in on someone brutally executing a room full of people. His confidence faltered a bit when you tried to stab him. “No, we talked about this remember?” He took advantage of your dazed state, pining you to the ground.

You fought him- hard. He was definitely going to make you feel bad about all the bruises you left on him later. He had finally exhausted you, the red behind your vision slowly turning back.

“I’m sorry, Bubbles.” You groaned. He let you out of a headlock, both of you trying to catch your breath.

“I expected a bit more of a fight if I’m being honest.” He smiled, patting your thigh. You rested your face in your hands, but he quickly shushed you. “None of that.” He chided, holding your face between his gloved hands.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, your voice cracking. His baby blues softened. Wrapping an arm around you he tucked you under his chin. You turned your head hoping to catch the sound of his steady heartbeat.

“It happens, kid. You’ve heard me through the comms before, yeah?” He gave a one sided chuckle.

“Heard you got a bit of battle rage, huh?” Kyle watched you with careful eyes as you paced back and forth. He had been summoned over the comms by Price to calm you down. “Let’s get you out of this room, yeah?” He extended a hand towards you, praying you weren’t too far gone. You stopped pacing, blank eyes looking at him. His heart dropped down to his stomach. Your dead eyes always made his skin crawl. “Don’t be that way sweetheart, come on.” He curled his fingers, ushering you along.

The pet name chipped at the cold freezing over your brain. “Ky.” You whimpered. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“There you are.” He smiled. His soft smile was enough to break you. You took his hand, your head beginning to turn to take in the damage you had caused. He quickly stopped you, placing a warm hand over your eyes. “It happened, we’re moving on.”

He had never been prouder.

You had taken out an entire warehouse by yourself.

He was so proud.

The feelings began to diminish when he caught sight of you. He recognized that look immediately, his own face graced with it more often than not.

“What happened, Mi sol?” He hummed. You were exhausted, the burning feeling in your stomach slowly beginning to fade. You suddenly felt all too human. “I know, I know.” He soothed, taking in your frenzied eyes. His hand gripped the back of your vest, tugging you to your feet. “Let’s get you out of here.”

He did his best to guide you through your wreckage, using his arm to block your view.

“Ale I’m sor”-

He grunted disapprovingly, cutting you off.

“You did good.” He said. “Very good. Don’t want you getting into that head of yours, hmm.” He pressed a fleeting kiss to your temple.

When you didn’t answer him over the comms he went into a little battle rage himself. His mind always assuming the worst. He imagined you laying on the floor in a pool of your own blood, scared and dying.

He really needed to stop underestimating you.

“Y/N.” His voice was firm. The tone usually snapped you back into place, yet now it had zero impact on you. “That’s enough.” His hand gripped yours tugging you towards the exits. He couldn’t wait to get to the safe house and hose you off. The foreign blood dripping from you turned his stomach. At least it wasn’t your blood.

You snatched your hand away from his, your eyes boring into his like he was a stranger. “Y/N.” He pressed. “That’s enough.” He extended a hand towards you again. You swatted him away, your leg extending out to knock him down.

Luckily he thought ahead, grabbing your ankle and tossing you to the ground before you had time to think. “You done?” He asked. You growled, trying for him once again. You must’ve forgot how great at defense he was. He was finally able to get you against his chest, trying to ignore the rough punches you threw at it. He whispered soft things in your ear, little reminders of who you were.

You stopped.

“I’m sorry, Ru.” You practically sobbed against him. He hushed you gently, resting his chin against your shoulder.

#d0youc0py #doyoucopy #cod #cod men #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod mwf2 #fluff #sfw #simon ghost riley #ghost x gender neutral reader #ghost x reader #captain John price #price x reader #price x gender neutral reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #alejandro vargas #Alejandro x reader #rudy mw2 #Rudy x reader

[arachine]

my eyes r rolling omffff waht is wrong w u and how r u so talented! it’s not fair 🙏 but anyway i can’t stop thinking about more stepbro!neteyam and how you’re going through heat and he helps you out

claiming 🫘 if it’s not taken 😁

— sinful desires !

+ pairings :: step!bro neteyam x female na’vi!reader 

+ genre :: mature

+ general tags :: 18+ (explicit sexual content, explicit language)

+ content warnings :: characters aged up (20), dark content, pseudo-cest, reader gets her heat, corruption, dacryphilia, vaginal sex, f/m ejaculation...not proofread

+ note :: hi nonnie bb! wrote this as a thirst…went a little overboard hehe :3 + not my usual format ;( bc i wrote this before going to the dining hall LOL! but yeah, this is just smth light before i get started on my actual WIPS.

“c’mon, don’t look at me like that,” he thumbs your cheek, tilting his head with an avian flutter of his lashes. neteyam could be so…generous. always too eager to help—too eager to make everybody’s problems, his problems.

right now he had you splayed out in a clearing, one hand holding his weighty cock, and the other holding the back of your thigh. you’ve been in this position for a while, all heavy breaths and squirms, physically (and mentally) fighting the urge to relinquish your body to him—to let him you.

you always pictured your first heat going a lot smoother than this. that when the time came, you’d be prepared and mated—but you were neither. so, one could only imagine the moral dilemma that arises when you’re forced to choose between two (very bad) options: 1) doing nothing and ultimately succumbing to the pain, and 2) fucking the only guy who conveniently happened to be within proximity.

the latter was obviously, not something you would’ve chosen for yourself—but the pain was excruciating—debilitating, and your current location wasn’t giving you much room for choice.

“look, you can stay here and suffer, bound to the forest soil, or you can let me help you,” the boy slides the weeping tip of his cock over your exposed folds, “which one sounds better? wallowing in pain or big brother helping you, hm?”

the tail of his query is accompanied with a prod to your hole, and you whimper in response, arching up to grasp at his chest. neteyam finds amusement in this, chuckles under his breath and gets real low on top of you.

“c’mon, baby, say it. tell me with your words. not gonna make you do something you don’t want to do,” and with that he’s lifting your chin up, using the pad of his loitering thumb to swipe away crystalline droplets.

you nod your head slowly. first once, then twice, lifting your hips up to meet him halfway. he takes your silent acquiescence as an invitation to glide into you. and, fuck, it’s so easy…fits right in like a glove. overwhelmingly wet and warm, a terrible combination that scares him.

you’re trouble, he thinks. because he knows that after he fucks you, gives you what you want—he’ll only want more. and that hunger will only grow, it’ll fester and fester, until the only way he can get off is with you. and that couldn’t happen, no—because this was only supposed to be a one time thing.

what would the people think of their future olo’eyktan messing around with his little sister? surely, they’d denounce his claim and deem him unfit to lead, right? and what would your parents think? they’d probably disown the both of you, or worse, disown you. and that’s the last thing he wants—to ruin you.

which is why this has to be the first time and the last time.

“‘teyam make me feel good please!” you clasp your hands behind his neck, forcing him to lay atop of you, “wan’ it to stop hurting…please, just…help me.”

there’s a flicker in your eyes when you say it, and he likes it. makes his spine tingle and his pupils dilate. because he wants to hear you do it again.

“you want me to make you feel good, huh?” a slow, drawn out thrust, “want big brother to make it feel better here?” he unsheathes himself from your gummy cunt and taps the top of your mound with the weight of his length.

“mhm, need you now, ‘teyam. please, hurry!” of all the years he’s known you, he’s never known you to be a beggar. the sheer desperation in your voice alone was enough to make him forgo all of his disciplines.

without pause, he guides his mushroomy head back to your leaking hole, and pushes himself all the way in until the fat of his balls is plush against your ass.

its’s so swift, the way he completely takes charge, like he’s done this before—like he’s been inside of you. your body was foreign to him, a stranger, and yet, it wasn’t. and he convinces himself as much because of the way you’re responding to him.

you are putty under his touch, and every moan, grab, clutch, and clench only confirms this.

faster, deeper—harder, you preen. and he obeys. does it when you command it, and doesn’t ease up. it’s almost unreal, the way the two of you are moving in perfect synchrony. like you’re liquified metal, melding together to form one.

“shit, feel you clenching. are you close, baby?” he syncopates each word with a harsh thrust, letting his weight distribute to one arm as he encases the side of your head. you nod eagerly, mumbling a string of expletives, followed after a series of strangled cries.

“f-feel it coming, don’t stop.” you’re so close, so, so, so close to that sweet release that you’ve been chasing after since it happened, and you’ll be damned if you don’t get it.

unconsciously, you wrap your legs tighter around his torso, and pull him down by the neck until his face is mere centimeters away from yours. you’re close—too close. so close that if he were to dip his head down just slightly, he’d kiss you.

your eyes flit to his lips, to his eyes, and then back to his lips. calling. beckoning. pleading.

kiss me, is what he thinks they’re saying. but he’s scared it’s too…intimate. a kiss would solidify things—feelings—and he didn’t have the mental fortitude to come to terms with that just yet.

this was supposed to be something he did to help you, he reminds himself. he was just doing you a favor, because that’s what brothers did, right? just a favor. nothing more, nothing less.

but eyes stare back into eyes, and breaths intertwine with breaths, and shit, he’s a weak man. this was another deadly combination that could only be blamed by the forced proximity. damn this.

he presses his lips to your own, harsh and heavy, leaving no room for anything. no room for hesitation—air—not even for protest. and when you kiss him back with just as much want, just as much need? he’s melting into your touch, ramming into you with such unbridled velocity, that you don’t even register the accidental love bite you gave his lip.

he works through it though, licks the blood up and continues his assault on your cunt. lays thrust after thrust until your body falls lax in his hold and your thighs clench shut around him.

“that’s it, sweet girl,” he coos, “go ahead, give it all to me.” with the encouragement of his sweet words, you come undone all over his cock, with his own release not too far behind.

“fuckfuckfuck, where you want it?” he grunts out through broken moans.

“inside, do it inside!” you sob, grabbing for his neck once more, pulling him down to your chest. you help to draw his release out by moving your hips in unison with his, holding yourself up on your forearms as he sheathes himself in and out of you at a dizzying pace.

with a final piston, he finishes inside of you. the two of you stall in the air briefly before he gently lowers you down onto your back, him following soon after to lay on your breasts.

when his breaths even, and the bioluminescent plants begin to glow, he unsheathes himself from inside you and sits back on his knees. you look so pretty, he thinks. with his spent seeping from your hole, and your skin all slick with sweat.

“this can never…” you breathe, chest still heaving and breaths ragged, “never, ever happen again.”

a beat. he doesn’t answer. and you repeat yourself, only this time, with more power behind your tone.

“hey, this can never happen again. got it?”

he can only manage to give you a nod, but he doesn’t give you his word.

because this? this wouldn’t be the last time. he was going to be selfish, and if that meant ruining you for anyone else in the clan—if that meant keeping you from finding a potential mate, he’d just have to ruin you.

© arachine 2023

#dark.content #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x reader smut #neteyam sully smut #avatar x reader smut #atwow x reader smut

[brujahinaskirt]

I love rdr2 for the little things--like how sleeping arrangements over time reflect narrative arcs and interpersonal decay (or bloom).

Just a really quick observation:

The most obvious and important sleeping change, I would argue, involves the Marstons. At the start of the game, John has abandoned and disavowed Abigail & Jack; they sleep on the ground in a flimsy shelter while he, the returning golden boy, sleeps in a bed under a comfortable tent. John's tent arguably affords the most privacy in the game, and this makes sense early on, when he's trying to maintain a distance between himself and everyone around him (especially his family, including Arthur). In Shady Belle, John has welcomed Abigail and Jack into his bedroom, and -- notably -- he sleeps on the floor this time. It's as much a signal of John's growth as a person who is allowing himself to be a little more reachable as it is a sign of his fledgling sense of regret and apology (for abandoning them in the first place), and it is a sign of him warming to the idea of Abigail and Jack as his family. But it doesn't happen all at once; Abigail and John still refuse to sleep beside one another. In the epilogue, as they actively attempt to rebuild their lives together, John and Abigail finally sleep side-by-side as a couple.

I read someone once point out that Uncle transitions from sleeping all over the camp, wherever he happens to pass out, to sleeping directly behind Arthur's tent in Beaver Hollow. This was so cleverly observed. What a powerful sign of the overall degradation of the character of the gang as Uncle (the character most representative of optimism and comfort) begins to fear for his safety and future enough to take physical shelter behind Arthur. What a note of confidence and clarity re: the true person Arthur is beneath the air of danger he has worn like a job title and a suit of armor. (I hunted for that original post to no avail; if it was yours, please let me know so I can link back to it!)

Molly & Dutch and the sliding divide. We start off with a present but muzzled level of friction between these two. Molly sleeps on the only bed in Dutch's lavish tent; Dutch sleeps beside her but... sitting up (haha okay very healthy)... because there's no room for Dutch and Molly. Later, Dutch commandeers the master bedroom at Shady Belle while Molly drunkenly collapses in an isolated place, usually by the kitchen window, blasted with light (see: truth) but far removed from the others, a reflection of her self-isolation and detachment from the gang and anyone who might be able to help her.

Dutch's tent gradually drifts farther away from the center of camp, at its maximum distance in Beaver Hollow. Micah, Cleet, and Joe linger closest to Dutch at this point, noticeably even more so than Javier and Bill.

The slow pull-apart of The Girls. Similar to Molly, after Sean's death, Karen can increasingly be found slumped over drunk in various locations at the periphery, semi-conscious. This is never more apparent than the Beaver Hollow era. Meanwhile, Mary-Beth and Tilly remain sleeping tightly next to one another, not far from Sadie.

God only knows where Micah sleeps.

(Might come back and expand this more later! But that's all she wrote, rushed, for now.)

#rdr2 #redmeta #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #john marston #dutch van der linde

[cheriladycl01]

I'm not scared! Colby Brock x MotoGPDriver! Reader Part 3

Plot: You made a tweet about Sam and Colby and were in a podcast and they brought up Sam and Colby where you talked about the paranormal and how it doesn't really scare you because you drive motorcycles at over 200mph.

Credit to misscalliopecruz for the GIF

A/N: I have made up a place in the UK for them to investigate as I have specifc haunting I want to happen, and if I'm talking about an actual haunted location I would rather be accurate out of respect for that place. More ghost stuff in the next part!

Sam and Colby spent most of their time around the garage. They were excited watching as you told them all bout your bike.

They also loved seeing you race, they'd never experienced something where the adrenaline wasn't for fear or excitement of themselves like they normally got on their investigations.

As they watched you go round the high speed turns, your leg so close to the floor, or any time that you bike wobbled a bit when you broke too quickly and the apprehension of whether you would fall off and crash out.

But you didn't, and you actually won the race on the last day with the boys cheering for you. You rushed over to them, pulling your helmet off your hair being a little frizzy from the sweat across your forehead.

You jumped into the arms of Sam and Colby pulling them into a huge hug.

"You were fantastic out there!" Sam grins and shakes your shoulders.

"When do you race in the US! We have to watch you at home!" Colby admits.

You celebrated a home race podium, there was something always so amazing about standing on the top of a podium listening to your national anthem in your home country.

You sprayed the champagne and were drenched by your colleagues.

For the rest of the day you celebrated with your team and Sam and Colby. You guys travelled to London and spent the night going between bars clubs and casinos.

Sam and Colby ended up crashing in the spare bedroom in your apartment because you were all so drunk from the celebrations and they couldn't make it back to the hotel without you and they refused to let you walk back alone.

You woke up the next day with a massive headache and walked straight to the kitchen. You completely forgot about the boys in your spare bed room and didn't bother changing or fixing your hair. You walked out pulling some paracetamol out orange juice to try cure the insane headache.

"Y/N?" a groan from behind you on the sofa calls and you nearly drop your glass from shock.

"Colby? Fuck!" you exclaim looking at him sprawled out across the sofa, he was shirtless and you could see all the tattoo's going up his arm, chest and back.

"Mmbhhg" he groans rolling over.

"I forgot you were both here" you sigh before pouring two more glasses and looking at what looked good to potentially order the boys for breakfast.

"I feel like I've died, you podium celebrators really know how to party" he groans wrapping the fluffy blanket you had laying across the back of the sofa. Colby finally turns his eyes onto you and his eyes bulge wide seeing the attire you were in.

"Sorry, I forgot you were here, if I'm being honest but I'll change and we can wake up Sam and order food!" you explain.

"No need, I'm already awake!" Sam grins walking out seemingly completely hangover free. He heads over to the arm chair next to the sofa.

“What the hell, you look like you didn’t even drink last night!” You exclaim looking over Sam’s seemingly fine and not hungover demeanour.

“And you look like someone who forgot they had house guests over” he admits, smirking at your T-shirt and undies combo you were currently sporting.

“Well, this is my house and you guys crashed here so I’ll wear what I please! I’m going to go shower, but here’s my phone order food whatever you want” you grin looking at them before rushing off to your en-suite.

You take a shower, washing your hair from all the champagne grime and club sweat that had built up and make sure your face was completely clear of makeup.

You scrub all of the grime from your body making sure you were in too top condition to go collect the food and to potentially make some content with Sam and Colby.

“Im back, what did you guys order?” You ask with a big grin on your face and they both look over at you guilty.

“We went with McDonalds but we haven’t ordered yet because we didn’t know what you’d want!” Sam smiles.

“You also had a few messages come through. We tried not to read them but they kinda popped up and stayed there a while. One was from Lando Norris, saying Congrats same as George Russell and ‘Mum’, I’m guessing for yesterday. The other one was from your Jack Miller about going for drinks some time?” Colby almost asks and you take the phone of them, thanking Sam.

You add your go to McDonald’s order before hitting verify payment. You phoned down to your reception letting them know you ordered food, which they normally offer to bring it up for you as it’s a security risk as there’s a lot of high profile people in this apartment block.

“Lando and George are my Motorsport friends. They race in F1. I think mum is self explanatory and you both met Jack Miller yesterday but I doubt you’d remember that” you giggle knowing you’d introduced them to your teammate early on at the club.

“Oh he’s your teammate right?!” Sam offers having a more clear memory of the night that you or Colby.

“Last night was wild” Colby says rubbing his eyes.

“Mmm what can I say, once the champagne is popped we don’t stop” you cheese at the phrase you’d picked up from George when you first met him.

“Is it alright if I just grab a shower and freshen up?” Colby asks and you just giggle nodding him to Sam.

“Im sure he can show you to my facilities considering he’s used them”

“How do you know I’ve used your shower?” Sam inquires raising an eyebrow at you.

“I mean, your hair is still damp and there’s no way you put on fresh clothes without a shower” you admit folding your arms over one another.

He jokingly grumbles out about you catching him red handed before showing Colby in the direction of the spare bedrooms bathroom.

Eventually you guys are sat in the living room in front of Colbys laptop looking at locations that you might potentially be able to look at and do an investigation at in such short notice.

You were sat so close to Colby, and now that he was showered you loved how he smelled like your home. He’d obviously used your bathroom products and you couldn’t help but lean closer to him at the comforting smell mixing into his general aroma.

“How about here” Colby says pulling up the website of a place.

“Dannamore Castle?” Am I saying that right. He asks looking to you. You didn’t expect your faces to be so close when he did and a blush immediately forms on both your faces at the awkward closeness you both hadn’t expected.

“Better than your pronunciation for Chillingham Castle that’s for sure!” You joke having watched all their England videos.

“It says here that there are over 50 active spirits that roam the halls of Dannamore Castle with Drake Dannamore being one himself” Sam reads out.

“Woah, that’s kinda an active spot” you smile looking at the location on a map.

“Yeah over 50 is crazy!” Colby offers and you shake your head.

“No no it’s on a leyline intersection. See” you say pulling up a map on your phone showing them and both the boys grin.

“Oh I like the idea of this already!”

“Let’s read some more about it and I’ll make some calls” Sam smiles pulling open some more tabs.

Taglist:

@richardsamboramylove55 @braveangel777

#sam and colby x reader #sam golbach x reader #sam and colby imagine #sam golbach #sam and colby smut #sam goldbach x reader #sam goldbach imagine #sam goldbach smut #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #colby brock #sam and colby fluff #sam and colby fanfiction #sam and colby #colby brock x reader #colby brock fanfic #colby x reader #colby brock one shot #colby brock x y/n

[sehodreams]

Could I request ways Riize members are toxic and possive and how utterly turns into sex

I hope I understood the request, toxic!riize is so interesting, maybe I lost myself a little bit, and sadly I couldn't imagine everyone. Also, Sungchan one is based on a few headcanons I've read before in the platform, I kind of almost wrote a full fic there and with Eunseok hahahaha

TW and tags: toxic!riize, dark!riize, manipulation, lying, a touch of verbal abuse, sexual content.

Eunseok, like I've said before, is really controlling. He wants to know where you are, who you are with and why you are even out, being capable of flooding your phone with texts demanding your location and, if you don't answer, going straight for your friends. This is pretty much based on how possessive he's with you, even before he starts courting you, he sees you as a potential partner only if he sees you're willing to obey him, for example, watching you for some time and how you talk to your parents, "yes dad, I'm here at school, I'll call you when I get back home", "dad but I want to stay, please... 'kay, I'll be waiting for you outside", and finding that you're a good girl easy to manage, he'll go for it. So, throughout the whole relationship, he won't have a hard time telling you to come back home, sometimes he did with nice words and little bribes like gifts and desserts, and in worst cases, lies about him not feeling well and hurting. The last one, of course, he only used it when you made things difficult for him, and it's not hard to convince you to come back, but it's hard to make you stay when you're so angry you can't stop crying while you say how preoccupied you were, you're honest, you say that only because you really were like that, so to stop you from leaving him, he'll apologize with that sweet voice he has, pushing you until he has you under him, and after that he would treat you as good as never before to make you forget why you were even mad, whispering exactly what you want to hear, all the praises you wished you had heard before, "such a good girl, listening to me so well'', and filling you with love remarks to make you remember that there's no one who loves you more than him, ''my pretty baby, crying for me because you were preoccupied, there's no one as good as you for me out there, my perfect girl.''

Sungchan is a really jealous boy, he loves his smart girl, he loves that whenever he says the name of your university everyone's impressed with the catch you are. Pretty, smart, kind, you're just perfect, which sounds amazing when he shows you off, but always makes him paranoid when he's not with you. He doesn't study with you, he's pretty, but he's not smart, so he lives in the gym and does his best to live as a trainer, and he knows he shouldn't bother you when you're so busy, but he can't stop himself. He calls you ten times a day and needs to meet every one of your friends, to feel calm and check that none of them put his position as your boyfriend in danger. He goes for you when you finish class to walk you home, and if you have a party, he's going with you. He's so fucking afraid of losing you that he can't even sleep well, and he's usually nice in bed, but if he sees you talking to a man or about a man too much, he gets lost when he touches you, leaving his nice side and pretty smile aside, he touches you until you can't talk anymore, a mess after so many orgasms, "so smart and pretty at the same time, I'm the only one who can make you this dumb, right?", because he believes that, if you can't even walk out of his apartment, of course you'll never leave him behind.

Sohee is extremely insecure, he wants to trust you, but he just can't. He tries to be good and contain himself, but before he notices it, he's already doing everything he knows he shouldn't, like checking your phone when you go to the bathroom, creating a fake profile to watch your social media and your friends, and watching all your and their stories to see if you told him the truth or not. He has tried numerous times to stop, he knows he shouldn't do it, that if he wants to have a healthy relationship with you he should trust you, but he can't, so when he sees you start suspecting he checks your phone and you take it to the bathroom with you, he decides he needs to do anything to see what you're hiding. So he fucks you even better than normal, the fire inside him pushing him to continue and continue thrusting inside you, "I'm sorry baby, I'll change, just feel how much I love you, you trust me right?", the insecurity giving him the strength to make you cum until you pass out, and once you're just like he wanted, deep asleep after everything he has done to you, he finds himself finally relaxing when he sees your phone as much as he wants, because that's a cycle that has no end.

Wonbin feels he has the right to control you and your decisions, what you eat, where you go, and especially, what you wear, so he's always judging how you look, sometimes even choosing your outfits himself because you really can't do anything well, and he can't let himself be seeing beside you if you're not looking your best. Like he says, he has a reputation to maintain. And doing all that, of course he decides when to fuck and where too. If you're in public and he feels the need to have you, you don't really have an option, whether you're on a reunion, a public place, even if you're extremely busy, if he wants to slip his hand under the skirt he chose, make you lie down and push to the side your pretty shorts or order you to go to your knees and suck him good, you'll do it, after all, he chose your outfits with the aim of getting what he wants fast and easy, and if you're good, he'll talk to you with a hint of affection and pride "shit baby, you'll have to redo your makeup, just look how you're crying all your eyeliner, but you look so good like that too", but if you don't leave him satisfied, he'll talk to you without an ounce of care, almost hurting you, ''Don't you dare come out looking like that, I don't need my girlfriend to look like a slut.''

#riize smut #dark!riize #eunseok smut #sungchan smut #wonbin smut #sohee smut #riize hard hours #riize hard thoughts #dark riize

[hornyhornyhimbos]

Happy By The Poolside

pairing: steve harrington x afab!reader

summary: while they wait for the annual pool party to start, steve knows exactly how to keep his lover happy by the poolside ☼♡

word count: 1,477

warnings: MINORS DNI (18+ CONTENT) oral f!receiving, fingering f!receiving, semi-public sex (sex by the pool), nicknames (baby, sweetheart), edancy appearance because i said so, allusions to steve jerkin it in the bathroom, no pronouns or reader descriptors used other than reader wearing a bikini, color coded speaker tags!

genre: fluffy, established relationship smut ♡

extra notes: did y'all really think i'd let fourth of july go by without slutty 'i <3 swimming' steve?

beta read by: @lcvingprentjss (love u sm)

masterlist | location smut prompts | ask box

it was hot. it was oh so hot. but it wasn't the 80° heat that had you feeling that way. no, what had you feeling that way was a certain brunette boy in big sunglasses and loose-hanging shorts.

you all but stared as steve emerged from the pool, blue swim trunks settled low on his waist, accentuating the trail of hair on his lower belly and the dips of his adonis belt. you practically drooled as he shook out his wet hair, beads of water flying about and landing in various spots on the concrete and your chaise.

he reached for the towel that he'd tossed at the end of the chair, a few loose droplets of of water falling onto your feet as he did so. you'd been happy right where you were, enjoying a magazine as the sun rays beat down on your body, fingers crossed that you'd have a tan after this, not a nasty case of sunburn. steve had been pouting half the morning, trying to get you in the pool with him, but you hadn't budged, saying you were happy by the poolside, waiting until the rest of your friends had arrived for the pool party.

still, even an hour after you'd sat down on the chaise, he wasn't letting up. "baby," he said, somehow managing to make the term sound conspiratorial, "are you sure you don't want to join me?"

you shook your head, putting this month's edition of cosmo to the side and taking off your sunglasses to meet his gaze. "everyone should be here soon. then you'll have plenty of time with me in the pool. it's not like dustin would ever let me miss the annual chicken fight."

he chuckled at your statement, but took your hand in both of his and gave you that look, the one he always gave you when he was determined to get you to do whatever he wanted. "come on, baby. please?" his bottom lip puckered out like a child in a candy store. "just for a few minutes?"

"nope," you answered, putting your sunglasses back on as the sun moved further overhead. "i only have so much time today to start on my tan. besides, they'll be here any minute."

in protest, steve pulled you up from the chair and tugged you toward the pool. "come on, at least dip your toes in."

you supposed you couldn't argue with his compromise. he walked around to the steps, slowly submerging himself in the pool once again, while you sank onto the concrete, dipping your feet into the contrastingly cool water. you chuckled as steve went limber, letting the small waves of water carry him through the pool. "you're missing out," he stated, like it was an absolute fact.

"i'm perfectly fine right here, my little fish," you teased. you kicked your feet softly in the water, watching as tiny ripples floated to join the bigger ones that carried steve. from this new angle, the sun was hidden behind his neighbors' trees, prompting you to place your sunglasses to the side and get a better look at steve: the once dark blue shorts now a beautiful cerulean, just a tad darker than the water he floated on, his normal wavy tufts now a sea of dark curls, the way his skin practically sparkled in the sliver of sunlight that wasn't hidden behind his neighbors' sugar maples. you watched as beads of water slid down his stomach, dragging along every crevice and line of his abs. you'd be lying if you said the sight didn't have you turned on.

steve must've noticed the way you'd been staring, forcing himself upright again and wading through the water toward you. unbeknownst to you, that little red bikini you had on was doing a number on him, his inner monologue and thoughts being driven by his little head at this point. he made his way over to you, placing a delicate kiss on your leg, looking up at you through water-matted eyelashes. "baby," he said, his tone teasing this time.

"hmm?" you hummed in response, afraid your voice would betray you if you said anything more.

his eyes flicked between your eyes and the place where your thighs squeezed together. you needed him, and you both knew it. "you okay?"

you managed to nod, the friction between your legs not at all aiding the want that had taken over your body. "i'm good," you said sheepishly, a blush creeping up your skin.

"are you sure? because," he paused, placing his giant palm on your knee and pulling your legs apart. he smirked at the wet spot he'd unknowingly created on your bathing suit. "you seem like you could use some help over here," he finished, his hand making its way up to your thigh.

the logical part of your brain managed to take over for a moment. "steve, people will be here any minute," you protested, despite the irrationally horny side of your brain that was currently fistfighting the logical side.

"then i'd better be quick," he said, his hands inching toward your bikini bottoms.

he left a space of availability in the air for any more protests you might have. after all, even though you were in a very established relationship, consent was always key. but you made no more argumentative comments, only approving moans and the occasional, "please," as he pulled your bathing suit down.

his lips met your clit with soft licks at first, giving you time to respond with just how hard and fast you needed it. your hands met his hair, tangling in the wet curls as you pulled him closer to you, letting out a soft moan as he suckled your bud.

he pulled your bikini bottoms all the way off, setting them aside on the concrete before meeting your pussy once again. your legs wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you again. his damp hair settled on the sides of your thighs, sending a shiver up your spine.

his tongue worked itself in heavenly figure eights around your core, while one of his hands met your entrance. he toyed at your hole with his fingertip, waiting for some kind of approval to continue.

you gave him exactly that, letting out a whine that sounded like an attempt to say, "please, stevie," but was nearly incoherent. he slipped one finger inside you, the sensation absolutely intoxicating.

he left a series of open-mouthed kisses on your clit, his digit continuing to bury itself inside you. he moaned at the taste, and the vibration had you inching closer to your release. your fingers curled into his hair while your toes curled into his back as his finger reached that sweet spot deep inside you.

the logical part of your brain took over once more as you spared a quick glance at your watch. "steve, they're gonna be here any second," you said through moans, hands pulling so hard at his hair that you were surprised you hadn't ripped it out yet.

"patience, baby, patience," he reminded you, immediately diving back into your cunt. his finger was accompanied by a second, his thrusts only becoming faster and deeper with every flex of the digits. your eyes had started to roll back and your toes had started to curl even harder. you were close, oh so close, and you both knew it.

the familiar rumble of eddie's truck trumpeted from what sounded like a few houses down. "steeeeve," you let out, ever so close to your orgasm.

his fingers drove impossibly deeper into your cunt, his mouth only parting from you to say, "cum for me, sweetheart."

as if on cue, your orgasm rippled throughout your body, pain and pleasure taking over all of your senses. a moan escaped your lips at the last possible second as the truck turned off outside the fence.

steve left one last open-mouthed kiss on your core before rushing to pull your bottoms back on. "you let them in while i go, uh, fix something in the bathroom."

you giggled, watching as steve padded toward the back door. surprisingly, you managed to compose yourself between the fifteen feet that lied between the pool and the gate, a smile making its way onto your lips as you let your friends in. "hey, guys," you greeted, moving to let the trio in.

mike entered first, while eddie and nancy stepped in behind him, eddie's arm tossed around his girl's shoulders. "you okay?" nancy asked, seemingly having noticed your wobbly legs.

"i'm fine," you answered. "just stood up a little too fast. got a little lightheaded."

steve chuckled as he closed the glass door behind him, making his way inside the house and heading toward the bathroom. if you thought that was lightheaded, just you wait until the after party…

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