#and a few of the Holy Shit moments include

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF PRIORITY: TUCHANKA (PART 2)

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Lt. James Vega, EDI, Urdnot Wrex, and Dr. Mordin Solus With: Urdnot Bakara And a Special Guest Appearance by: Kalros, Mother of All Thresher Maws I MADE A MISTAKE! I made a mistake... big picture made of little pictures- too many variables. Can't hide behind statistics... can't ignore new data- my responsibility. Need to go- running out of time. Not your work, not your cure- not your decision. Had to be me- someone else might have gotten it wrong... Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

#mira makes gifs ✨ #sophie shepard #james vega #EDI #urdnot wrex #mordin solus #mass effect #mass effect 3 #me3 #mass effect legendary edition #dailygaming #i'm gonna continue the rambles in the part 2 gifset but one of the things i adore about tuchanka is the scenic shots #there are literally so many gorgeous ones that about half of part two is scenic shots because holy fuck tuchanka is beautiful #the kalros reaper ones especially? like those are so cool i had to include at LEAST a few of them bc that fight is awesome #and when the cure disperses?? literally the prettiest scene in the game #EDI and james have really cute dialogue together too!! i adored their moments towards the end of the mission #although i did say i was gonna give thoughts on mordin in sur'kesh and i think it boils down to him being an okay?? character in my book #like mordin definitely isn't one of my favorites but i will respect that he's definitely a very complex character and he's interesting imo #especially in terms of how he's written and his motivations/how he sort of grows and evolves over both ME2 and ME3 #like the quote i subquoted the post with is the one you get when you try to stall him from going up into the tower #(so it's not from soph's canon- but i love the scene so i used it anyways) #and one of the things i really like is that you can see the switch from mordin in ME2 who argues that what he did was RIGHT #versus mordin in ME3 who is starting to see what was wrong in the context of all the new information he has #and for me- seeing a character who can grow to recognize that they're flawed and made mistakes- i can respect the HELL outta that #even if mordin isn't my favorite character in the trilogy i'm gonna give him massive props for his character growth arc #because it's always interesting to see someone grow and recognize their mistakes and find a way to be a better person #to own their mistakes and fix the shit that they fucked up #i don't think i'd ever choose the option to not cure the genophage but mordin will always get props from me for his character arc tbh #i'll stop rambling now! have a good day wherever you are <3

[adhdheather]

just found out that only 3 other ppl opted out of the bike tour one of my professors is trying to plan for my class next semester (im p sure theres 25 ppl in this course)

and im having a moment of shock of “wow, 21 ppl in my class know how to ride a bike well enough to do a multi-hour bike tour???”

#when i let her know im gonna opt out. i made sure to include the info that i cannot ride a bike since its extremely relevant #but i am having a moment of Holy Shit that its only me and a few ppl who arent going. gonna be wild to see what alt activity she suggests #p

[kinopio-writes]

Hey love your works they are absolutely fantastic ❤️

This is an odd request but would you mind doing a Adam x Fem! Reader that is in the situation like Morty and Mr. Jellybean was? It is 100% a-okay if you don’t do this especially if it’s uncomfortable but I just wanted to know Adams reaction. Ignore if you are uncomfortable and/or just don’t want to do this ask!

Love your works!! 🥰🥰

A/N: Aww, thank you for the kind words :] I only have two works in total, lol. And, uh, I haven’t watched Rick and Morty, but I did search for some scenes on YouTube. Based on what I saw, do you mean to say how Adam would react if the reader was sexually harassed? Tell me if I’m wrong because holy hell did watching the scenes make me uncomfortable. And someone commented that it’s a really accurate depiction of what happens. Disturbing.

Words: 1,034 (not including the bullet points)

Warnings: Sexual harassment implied, Violence (because of Adam)

———

How Adam would react if Fem!Reader was sexually harassed…

In the middle of writing this, I just remembered that they live in Heaven. So I don’t know how or why a molester would end up in Heaven. Even if there was one, they likely got booted off immediately, so just imagine a sinner somehow managed to sneak into Heaven.

• Adam’s reaction would completely change depending on who you are to him (if you two just met for a date or are casual bang buddies)

• so I’ll just give you the best one for comfort (at least the best Adam could give) and make you two be in a close relationship (not GF and BF though. But you two go on not-so-platonic dates sometimes)

• I also think it’s good to mention that I try to keep Adam’s character as accurate as possible

• it might make him seem insensitive, so I suggest going to the last section if you’re here for comfort (the last section has a blue ‘•••’)

———

Adam recommended a place that had been recently open for a while. He actually burst through your front door to go there the day it was open.

Unfortunately for him, you were busy and will be for the next few weeks as well. Something about work that he didn’t bother to listen to because it was, well, about boring shit.

But now, you managed to get the whole week off, so Adam has you all for himself. And his first action of business was to get you to chillax. What better way to do that than to hang out with him?

He was so fucking hyped. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you try out the food there!

You two were going to have so much fun!

•••

“We need to go,” was what you suddenly decided after you came back from the bathroom, voice emotionless and firm.

Adam stared at you as if you grew horns and a tail. “Why? The fuck happened?”

Your face faltered at his question. “We need to go. Please.”

“Uh, it hasn’t even been an hour. Now get over here and fucking eat.” You only did so after a moment he munched on his burger, but not in the way he expected. You hid near his seat, gripping on the legs as you made yourself as small as possible. “The fuck are you doing?” He paused before grinning suggestively. “Learn some decency, (Name), jeez. If you wanted to…suck…”

Adam trailed off as he watched someone come out of the women’s bathroom, badly beaten and bruised. He…it didn’t have a halo on its head, and its attempt to cover up its slender and angled horns was fucking stupid.

His playful expression dropped and it shifted to anger when he saw it looking around, around for you.

You suddenly felt a strong gust of wind as the plates and glasses clattered on the table you were hiding behind. You peeked from your spot to witness Adam ruthlessly and relentlessly punch the sinner’s face, a hand slowly going over your mouth at the display of violence. You didn’t know he could be so brutal. He was saying things that didn’t reach your ears, but you knew they weren’t pleasant.

You only felt yourself move after you saw Adam lift his arms in the air, hands accompanied by holy light. “Wait! Adam, Adam, stop!”

“What!” He turned around to face you momentarily as he shrugged your hand off of his shoulder. “Let me at ʼim—!”

“Adam, you’re causing a scene,” you whispered, glancing around at the growing audience.

Adam was offended. “I’m helping!” He flapped his wings to stand up, his anger now directed at you. “You’re just going to let a Sinner do you like that? Huh!”

“I just want to go home.”

He stared at your face for a moment. “Whatever.” He scowled at the Sinner one last time before he began making his way outside. You quietly followed after him. “This place is lame, anyway.”

The whole walk, you kept your head down as Adam gave the finger and a nasty look to anyone who ignorantly tried to approach you to cheer you up.

•••

You didn’t know when you got home; you didn’t even know Adam stayed with you until he spoke up.

“Uh…do you need, like, shit, I dunno…something?” You heard the ruffling of his wings and the shuffling of his clothing. “I could order delivery. There’s this place I’ve been…” You further curled yourself into a ball on your bed. You didn’t remember when you got there. “Actually, maybe you should pick where this time, huh? How’s that sound?”

When you didn’t respond, Adam lowered his arms, his smile fading into a frown.

He debated whether or not to leave you here before you scooted to the farthest side of the bed, turning yourself over to face him but avoiding eye contact as you patted the spot you were just in.

Adam took one glance behind him before he slipped into bed beside you, hands on his tummy as he stared at your ceiling.

The silence was uncomfortable for Adam. He desperately wanted to fill it with some chatter. Without it, it felt as though there was no one with him in the room.

As if you read his mind, your hands hugged his arm, and it numbed his unease, if only for a moment. He extended the time by placing a hand on yours, caressing them with his thumb.

“I don’t want to see this,” you suddenly spoke after a minute.

“Huh?” He looked down at you, still not making eye contact with him.

“Take your mask off.”

He scoffed and turned down your request, “You’re not even looking at me.”

“Take it off,” you repeated more firmly.

“Why?”

“Then I’ll take it off.” You reached out to grab his horns, pulling them upwards. When it didn’t comply, you kneeled on the bed and pulled harder. “How do you take it off?”

“Why do you wanna see me so badly? Just go to sleep already.”

“Not until you take that off.”

“I’ll stay with you until you wake up,” he attempted to bargain.

“Adam.” You gave up on removing his mask yourself. “Take it off.”

He hesitated before sighing heavily, easily tugging it off of his head and tossing it on the nightstand.

With his real face revealed, you were able to look at him. His golden eyes brought you solace, and his human-like features gave you relief.

“There. Better?” he asked bitterly as he averted his eyes from yours. “Now go to sleep.” After that, Adam tried to face his back toward you, but you leaned over and held his face and shoulder, pulling him back. “What is it now—”

“You said you’ll stay with me until I wake up.”

“I will,” he said as if you were doubting him, but he knew you weren’t.

Satisfied with his promise, you stared into the soft glow of his eyes as yours started to grow heavy.

In the last moments of your consciousness, you felt yourself get pulled closer to something soft, and you heard the sound of ruffling as warmth enveloped you.

#hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #kinopiowrites

[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

[tending-the-hearth]

a (not entirely) comprehensive list of what i loved about the ballad of songbirds and snakes movie

(spoilers below)

i already gushed about it but the ENTIRE opening scene being shot for shot what happens in the first few pages of the book... like holy shit i was blown away

snow making the remark about the tessarae buttons reminding him of the maid's bathroom???? again directly from the book???

lucy gray's introduction, and her song!!!!

again this movie was... SO ridiculously faithful to the book it almost made me cry

tigris and snow's relationship was so beautifully portrayed, and knowing how they each end up makes it even more heartbreaking

sejanus always and forever my favorite character <3

the fact that they included arachne's death and kept it almost entirely identical to her book death?? and i'd argue that her death in the movie is more gruesome

the entire scene with reaper gathering up the bodies. it was my favorite scene in the book, and it's one of my favorite scenes in the movie. it's such a heartbreaking but powerful moment, like when peeta paints rue or when katniss gave rue a burial

the snake scene holy SHIT all the deaths destroyed me

but lucy gray singing??? and the snakes gathering around her like a dress??? and her voice just getting stronger and more steady as she realizes she won't die???

i might be wrong but i'm PRETTY sure that the first time we see lucy gray after the hunger games when she's singing in district 12 she's wearing mockingbird and jabberjay feathers in her hair!!!

and her snake bracelet that she wears!!

her smile when she saw snow in the crowd... if i didn't read the book i'd 100% be rooting for them

hearing lucy gray singing "hanging tree" was so haunting. i've seen people point out the difference in meaning in lucy vs. katniss' versions, and i'm definitely going to make a whole post abt lucy gray singing the song

omg the way people in my theater gasped SO loudly when lucy called the root "katniss"

while obviously not a good thing in context of the story, the way we could see snow slowly devolving and becoming more and more manipulative towards sejanus and lucy gray... absolutely terrifying storytelling

lucy's realization of what snow's done, and the way she holds herself together JUST enough to run away from him

the mockingjays and jabberjays coming together to sing "hanging tree"

tigris saying "you look just like your father" to snow at the end of the movie and us knowing that she also means the look of hatred in his eyes that she told snow she hoped she'd never see

THE FUCKING END WITH SNOW SAYING THE LINE AND HEARING RUE'S WHISTLE ECHOING AND EVERYTHING EXCUSE ME

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas spoilers #the hunger games #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow

[birdscribblepad]

Baked Goods

Alastor x Baker reader (slow burn romance)

Plot: During the 7 years, Alastor was missing the reader and Rosie became friends. Now that Alastor is back, Rosie is dying to introduce you. She just knows you'll get along amazingly, after all, she's a great matchmaker.

Warnings: suggested cannibalism, swearing

(Note: reader is a poisonous frog demon) Next

“Alastor!” Rosie was waving her hand in the air to get her friend's attention as she approached him. Her other hand was pulling someone behind her.

Alastor smiled at his friend before noticing the demon his friend was dragging behind her. Alastor was filled with curiosity and excitement.

“Rosie!” Alastor greeted, letting the woman hug him before turning his attention to her guest.

“I have someone I want you to meet” She smiles wide, pushing you in front of Alastor. You smile up at him, offering your hand, “Nice to meet you. I'm y/n.” You were beyond nervous.

You've been in hell for a while. You knew about Alastor and had even heard his broadcasts. You were a huge fan. You were also hugely disappointed when Alastor disappeared, but you kept his radio on display in your shop. In hopes, he would one day return.

Shortly after he left, you met Rosie. You were hoping to branch out and expand, and the cannibals were one of the few markets left. You had approached her about doing business, and the two of you quickly became friends.

Alastor shook your hand. “A pleasure,” his signature smile seemed genuine. Rosie quickly excused herself, leaving the two of you alone. Alastor looked you over a bit, amused, “So tell me about yourself.” Alastor led you over to a bench so you could sit and chat. After all, Rosie had made the effort to introduce you, which piqued Alastor's curiosity.

“Oh, um, I'm a baker.” You take your seat on the bench. “I've recently started working with Rosie to include meat in my menu.” You emphasized the word. A bit obvious, but that was the point. Alastor's eyes light up. That was interesting. “Oh? You must let me try one sometime”.

The two of you talked for hours about everything from recipes to music. It was getting late, Alastor stood up and adjusted his outfit “it's getting late, allow me to escort you home” You nodded jumping to your feet this earned a chuckle from Alastor. You'd never dream Alastor would be walking you home. You chatted more about meaningless things. All too soon, arriving at your home. Alastor gives you a bow, “goodnight, I do hope we meet again soon.”

“Holy shit!” You were pacing around your living room. Alastor, the Aalstor, the Radio demon himself, just walked you home. You couldn't sleep that night.

You contemplated closing the bakery today but decided against it. You had a feeling Alastor might stop by. You quickly eat and dress before heading to the bakery.

It was currently 9 am and business was slowing down. The morning rush was finally over. You were sitting at a table taking a much-needed break when 'ding' a customer. You sigh before getting up and turning to see Alastor.

“Hello dear” his smile widened at you. “I was hoping to try your meat dish”, Alastor emphasized the word the same way you had the day before.

“Of course!” You smiled and disappeared for a moment before returning with a plain white to-go box. Handing him the box.

Alastor accepts, “may I?” He gestures to the box. You nod, holding your breath as he opens it. In the box is a medium-sized pie. Enough for about 4 people. Alastor pokes a hole into the pie with one of his long fingers and samples the pies insides. His eyes light up. “That is fantastic!” His voice crackled with excitement. You can't help but blush. “I will have to return,” he smiles, turning and leaving. Stopping at the door, he snaps his fingers, the radio you had on display switches on, and music begins to play. “Such a lovely radio should be enjoyed, don't you think?” With that, he walked out the door.

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #hazbin hotel #bird scribbles #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction

[lowkeyrobin]

Mcyt with an s/o who's a voice acter for video game characters? They mostly do voice characters in horror games n stuff(like until dawn, where the characters are also modeled after the voice after if I remember correctly)

I just think their faces would be hilarious if the choice they make in the game ends up with y/n getting killed lol

OH MY GOD YESSSSS ; also tried to use different games and not the same for everyone but I'm not the heaviest story game gamer LMFAO ; also don't talk about how timeliness wouldn't make sense shhhhhh

MCYT ; video game voice actor

includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, & foolish gamers

warnings ; language & fictional violence and death/murder

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

somehow the topic of mc story mode came up and how you actually voice acted a few characters + one of the Jessie variants (whichever you picked as a kid 🙏)

"WHAT? WHY DIDNT I KNOW ABOUT THIS?"

"I mean I was like, fourteen. I don't think I even knew you yet"

"absolute betrayal"

he literally speeds to his office, downloads the first game and proceeds to stream for three hours playing it (he selects whichever Jessie you voiced of course)

"OH MY GOD THAT IS MY PARTNER, HOLY SHIT, LISTEN TO THEIR BABY VOICE!"

the tweets never end

"spot the difference" and its an old/new pic of you compared to jessie

💀💀💀💀

once he gets to the save Petra or Lukas scene he straight up pauses and playfully yells at you like you made the game?? 💀🙏

he dies so many times it's not even funny

love him tho

TUBBO

red dead redemption two 💀

forget the qsmp, once he finally downloads the game its all he's playing for a straight week

again, how the hell did he not know about this??

it was only 2018??

you voice a few of the townsfolk and a few of the supporting characters

everytime he hears your baby voice he's like "omg you sounded like that??" obviously he's been friends w you for a while so he doesn't notice voice changes

as an Easter egg, the player can actually kill one of the random townsfolk solely for being annoying with no consequences

it's modeled after you as well 💀💀💀

the npc just shouts annoying shit and doesn't shut up and is encouraged to kill the kid

tubbo kills the kid and unlocks the secret achievement

RANBOO

Detroit become human

the moment he finds out you voiced a minor character he speedruns trying to find you

the character is also modeled after you, so he's begging chat to keep an eye out for you too

you're basically just some very friendly person trying to help Connor but no matter what route he/the player takes, you wind up dead for the angst

ouuuu the heartbreak, the angst

if it's by being shot, betrayed, or committing your own death, you're gone bro

"y/n why the fuck does your character die in the worst ways possible?"

you shrug

"that genuinley hurt my feelings. I don't wanna play this anymore"

"you didn't get to Connors possible death scene yet!"

"WHAT?"

FREDDIE BADLINU

TLOU 2 (I don't support the makers zionist views, I just thought this fit. free Palestine and do your daily clicks)

was literally cheering you on the whole time when you were bts for voice acting your character

you had to take like scream classes to upgrade your screaming abilities lmao

you gave the voice to a character modeled after you, an infected teen who runs into ellie on her way through the game

she/the player is forced to put you down because you're not immune

L

he plays through the game and turns to you like "dude do I actually have to kill you to progress?"

you just nod

"I'm sorry, I didn't wanna do this"

THE DESPERATE SCREAMING GOT HIM

literally looked at you in horror

"...are you okay?"

you smile and nod

NIKI NIHACHU

life is strange

mf you would've been like 16?? damn get ur bag, okay

she plays through and you va (whoever you choose) and everytime she hears your voice she smiles

"omg that's my partner! that's y/n, you guys!! :D"

the cutest

literallt cries at the end of the game

"y/n, were you in life is strange two?"

"why?"

"Cause I wanna play it but I don't wanna get my hopes up about you being there"

"just play it, just play it. trust me"

ALEX QUACKITY

twdg s4

basically clem/the player gets really close to your character and ends up having to kill them after they turn into a walker

the angst, the heartbreak

he's never done a full let's play / game play like that before and especially with a full game series

when he got to s4 and heard you for the first time he literally started jumping around and screaming

now when you die... it's jumping and screaming alright (in anger and sadness)

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I PLAYED ALL THOSE GAMES JUST FOR YOU TO DIE?"

"I mean there's an option to prevent me turning, you're just a dumbass"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN? IM RESTARTING"

FOOLISH GAMERS

dead by daylight

you va'd multiple characters/killers

and the devs wanted to show appreciation by giving you your own playable character with your natural voice

when foolish finds out, he gets tubbo, quackity, tina & niki in a call to play dbd + stream for like 6 hours

loves seeing all the death animations you'd be given and all your voicelines

"OH MY GOD! guys this is my partner, they're so instantly talented at voice acting, holy shit!"

"we get it foolish, you love y/n"

"It's more than love, quackity, it's an obsession"

"my brother in christ, calm down"

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #ranboo x reader #quackity x reader #badlinu x reader #tubbo x reader #alex quackity x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #niki nihachu x reader #nihachu x reader #foolish gamers x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #mcyt x gn reader #they/them reader

[chiaraanatra]

Break Up in a Small Town

Request: What about break up in a small town by Sam Hunt? Pilot!Reader and Jake?! Love your work!! - @callsign-viper

Summary: You and Jake had known each other since high school and the two of you dated back at the Academy. After being stationed on separate sides of the US the two of you separated. Little did you know both of you would be called back to Top Gun. Little did he know you would be followed by a civilian boyfriend.

Warnings: Swearing, name-calling (slut), shitty boyfriend, Hangman to the rescue!

No Y/N; callsign Stinger; called Honeybee by Jake as term of endearment.

Word Count: 3k

AN: This took way too long and I’m sorry. It also ran away from me and I’m not sorry.

When I first started writing this, I was watching too much VPR and Tom is definitely based on Tom Sandoval.

For the parts 1 & 3 of this accidental series: pt 1: Cop Car || pt 3: Falling Like This

《 m.list || ao3 》

“Stinger!” You looked up from your spot in the common room, greeted by the commander looking about as pissed-off as usual, “My office now!”

Shit! What did I do…? Your thoughts ran rampant. You weren't a bad egg by any means but depending on the day the commander could go on a tirade over just about anything.

You stood in front of his desk, eyes trained straight forward. He was looking through a large manila folder. “Do you know why I called you in here?”

“No, Sir.”

“I have to send somebody from this squadron to Miramar…” Your brain was barely able to register the Commander’s words. “This might be against my better judgment, but I’m giving you your dream shot. I'm gonna send you up against the best. You’re going to Top Gun.”

Holy Shit…!

“Thank you, Sir.” You tried to keep a stoic look on your face but inside you were screaming. Top Gun was a big deal and you would be one of the few pilots included in the upcoming class!

“You ship out tomorrow. You're expected to be there Monday at 0500. Don’t make me regret this decision, Lieutenant. You’re dismissed. Go home and pack up.”

“I won’t let you down, Commander.”

You walked out and closed the office door behind you. You tried your best to contain your giddy smile. You bolted down the hall, running into the parking lot and towards your car. The first thing you did was pull out your phone and call your best friend.

Viper was stationed in Florida. The two of you were inseparable at the Academy, attached at the hip, and you didn’t let being stationed in different places stop this. Regardless of the distance, the two of you always stayed in touch, sharing whatever news and gossip came up wherever you were stationed.

“Hello?”

You couldn’t contain yourself and just screamed into the phone, “Guess what!!”

“Okay tone it down there, Sting. I don’t need you blowing out my eardrums.” She laughed.

“I’m going to Top Gun!”

“Oh?” There was a small pause, and you could hear her giggle softly. “That’s amazing, babe! I think there will be a lot in store for you there!" she paused for a moment. "You know, Top Gun, full of surprises!” You knew Viper was acting weird, but your excitement was taking over, and you couldn’t be bothered to ask what she knew. “I umm have to go but call me when you get to Miramar safe! Love you!” She hung up just as quickly as you called her.

Weird as that was you knew better than to question Viper. But the last thing on your mind was the fact that in the Navy, news travels fast and Viper knew much more than she was letting on. All you could think about was goodbye China Lake and hello Miramar!

“You accepted it? Don’t you think we should have talked about this first?” This was not exactly the reaction you were expecting from your boyfriend.

You met Tom about a year ago at a bar just off the China Lake base. You had been stationed at the Naval Air Weapons Station at China Lake since you graduated from the Academy. Being a skilled pilot with a talent for air-to-air combat, it was the perfect placement for you. Last fall, Tom moved to sunny California after being employed as a civilian contractor, hired to work on weapons navigation. The two of you seemed to click well and after a month of being friends, you decided to go out with one another. You hadn’t really dated anyone since the Academy, and it was a nice change of pace, for a while at least. As months went on Tom tended to, not so subtly, question your career as a naval pilot.

“I know, but this is Top Gun. This is a huge deal!” You said adrenalin running through, a giddy smile was plastered on your face. “This is the big leagues! And it’s still in California, only like a 4-hour drive.”

“I get that babe, but you really should have consulted me on such a big decision.”

Your smile began to fade, “You’re right I should have talked to you…” Tom always had a knack for bringing you down a couple of pegs.

“It’s cool and all but you have to consider how it could affect me, us. You know?"

“Yeah… I’m sorry.” You looked down at your feet.

“Hey, don’t give me that face.” He placed his finger under your chin lifting it so you would look at him. “You just have to think before you act.” He pulled you into a hug, “We’ll make it work.”

The drive to Miramar was surprisingly easy despite the traffic. You made it there in record time, partly due to your tendency to drive just a bit over the speed limit.

*Ping*

You looked at your phone expecting it to be Tom but the name on the notification read Phoenix. The two of you had gotten pretty close after her short stint at China Lake a couple of years ago. You were relieved when you found out that she was also accepted into Top Gun, the perspective of a familiar face made your nervousness subside.

You, me, Hard Deck 7 pm! The whole class is meeting up!

You smiled at the screen and all thoughts of Tom and the hope that he would text that he was glad you made it to Miramar safely quickly left your head.

You made it to the Hard Deck a few minutes after 7. As you walked in you saw a collection of khaki surrounding the pool table. You made eye contact with Phoenix, who lifted her empty glass with pleading eyes. You smiled, giving her a nod that indicated her next round was on you before you headed to the bar. You didn’t notice when more khaki uniforms shuffled into the already-packed bar.

“What do we have here? If it ain’t Phoenix!” A tall blonde made his way over to Phoenix and the others. “And here I thought we were special, Coyote. Turns out the invite went to anyone.”

She rolled her eyes, “Fellas, this here’s Bagman.”

“Hangman,” he smiled as if the snide comment didn’t bother him.

“Whatever.” She turned to Fanboy and Payback, “You’re looking at the only naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill.”

“Stop.” He tried his best to fain embarrassment.

“Mind you, the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War.”

“Cold war,” he corrected. “Different wars, same century.”

She smiled back at him, “Not this one.”

“Who are your friends?” He nodded toward the two men on either side of her.

“Payback. Fanboy. And Stinger’s at the bar grabbing drinks.”

“Stinger...?” he spoke in barely a whisper. Hangman could feel his heart skip a beat at a name he hadn’t heard in years but never forgot. There’s no way…

After a few moments you made your way over to the pool table, Nat’s tequila and soda in one hand and your drink of choice in the other.

“What did I miss?” You said squeezing in next to Nat and handing her a drink.

I knew I'd see her around.

I'd be at some party, she'd show up and I'd be walking out.

“Stinger! This is-“

You interrupted before she could finish, “Hangman. It’s been a while, Seresin.” The corner of your lip turns up slightly as you maintain eye contact.

“That it has…” Jake’s eyes wandered through the room, itching for an escape. He figured it was inevitable that he would run into you again, but he wasn’t prepared for it to be now. He saw Rooster out of the corner of his eye, “Bradshaw! Is that you?” Bradley made his way over to the group and you watched as the two men had a dick-measuring contest.

You moved closer to Nat. “Well, he hasn’t changed,” she sighed as she turned back to you.

“Nope. Sure hasn’t…” a small smile making its way across your lips. You downed the rest of your drink, “I think I’m gonna head out. I have a lot of shit to do before Monday.” The reaction between you and Hangman had Nat curious but she knew better than to bombard you with questions.

You were barely at the parking lot before you had your phone in hand dialing Viper’s number. Time differences be damned!

“You knew, didn’t you?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You could hear Viper’s smile through the phone.

“You knew he was here!”

“Okay maybe… Yeah, I knew. But come on Sting… I know you still have feelings for him.”

“That doesn’t matter I have Tom...” You didn’t even sound convincing to yourself.

Viper held herself back from sharing her thoughts about Tom. “Well, a lot can happen in a few weeks. Maybe keep your options open.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a soft sigh. “I’ll talk to you later V. Love you.”

“Love you too, S. Be safe up there.”

The first two weeks had been maddening. Top Gun training was a lot, to put it mildly. Being so close to Jake Seresin brought up feelings you thought you had long since buried and it didn’t help that Tom was MIA due to work.

You were wrapping up your post-flight checks, humming along to the music softly playing from the speaker on your workbench.

We just needed some time.

Your mood dampened slightly at the choice of song. You didn’t listen to much country before you met Jake. Coming from the Lone Star State, it’s all he would listen to. It didn't take long for the genre to grow on you. But even after all those years, there was a pull somewhere in your heart whenever a song like that would come on.

Thought I would be fine, but maybe not.

“Hey, Honeybee.” Jake mentally hit himself for the nickname.

Speak of the devil.

You couldn’t help the shiver that made its way down your spine. You wouldn’t say it out loud but you missed the nickname. One only he ever got to call you.

You turned around to see Jake walking towards you. You stood, adjusting your flight suit.

“Good job out there today.” Jake was looking down at the ground.

“Thanks. Same to you.” You gave him a small smile just as his gaze made its way to your face. “Mav’s a hard ass, but this is a good team and I think we have what it takes.”

He couldn’t help but smile, “Hard ass might be underselling it, but I have to agree.” He looks back at the ground once more. “Hey, I’m happy you’re here. While I had some doubts about some of the pilot selections, I never had a second thought about you being here.”

“Thank you, Jake. I-“ Before you can finish your thought you hear a door open next to you. When you look over the sight of Tom is a surprising one. He had barely spoken to you since your arrival, let alone mention coming down to see you.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Tom’s arm was slung heavy and uncomfortable on your shoulders.

“Tom, this is Lt. Jake Seresin. He’s also attending Top Gun.”

Hangman extended a handout to Tom, “Nice to meet you, Tom.”

“Back at you, buddy.” Tom leaves Jake’s hand empty, pulling out his phone from his pocket. “Hey babe how about you clean up your grimy self and we meet somewhere for a drink.”

You try your best to brush off Tom’s brazen attitude, “Umm yeah we can meet at the Hard D-“

Tom cuts you off, moving his arm from your shoulder and turning all his focus to his phone, “Yeah. Cool. Let’s meet there in a few hours?” Without waiting for your reply, he starts making his way towards the exit. “Just send me the address.”

You let go of a sigh that caught you somewhat by surprise. “Well, I guess I should wrap up my checks and get out of here.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Jake.

Jake was taken aback by the little interaction but bit his tongue. He had no right to comment on your current relationship, even if he hated how the guy talked to you. “Yeah,” he paused for a brief moment, “I’ll see you at the Hard Deck.”

You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face, “yeah, see you there.”

Jake sat at the bar of the Hard Deck watching Penny and the new bartender pour drinks while he debated his decision to come tonight. The second he saw you for the first time since the Academy, everything that happened between you and him came flooding back. Meeting you in Corpus Christi after your dad got promoted and stationed at their Naval Air Station, going to the Academy together, long nights spent studying, and even longer nights spent intertwined with one another. He missed you. He wanted to convince himself that he didn’t, but he did. He always wondered where you two would have been had you been stationed together after graduation or had you tried to make things work despite the distance. Maybe you wouldn’t have been with that jackass now…

Jake looked up from his drink to be met with a view of the said jackass. However, the hands that were hanging all over Tom, didn’t belong to you. Jake watched for a few more moments as Tom’s hands grabbed at the girl’s ass. Before he knew what he was doing, Jake was making his way towards Tom, taping the shorter, dark-haired man on the shoulder.

“What the-Ho, hey Jacky boy!” Tom’s demeanor quickly changed when faced with the taller blonde.

“It’s Jake.” Jake was straight-faced and unamused.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Any way you mind?” Tom’s eyes moved from Jake to the girl and back to Jake, hoping that Jake would catch the hit and keep quiet.

I wanna jump out, I wanna fight, I wanna say, "F- that guy!" but I can’t.

Jake knew exactly what that look meant. While he wasn’t proud of it, he had a past. When you first met in high school, Jake had a reputation for having a high “catch and release” rate. It was because of that it took him a while to convince you that he wanted something different with you. After you things reverted, never wanting something serious if it wasn't with you.

The doors to the Hard Deck opened and your gaze was drawn to Jake. Thoughts of Tom were nonexistent, to the point where you couldn’t be bothered to notice the shorter, dark-haired man or the shorter woman hanging all over him.

You waved to try and get Hangman’s attention. On further inspection, you could tell that the man was seething. Jake wasn’t one to share his emotions much and he wasn’t the most readable, but after spending years with him you could read him like a book. When you finally reached the man, you were met with the source of his anger.

“Tom?”

The girl turned to you with a look of disgust, as if you were beneath her. “And who are you?”

“Well, girlfriend doesn’t seem like an appropriate title anymore,” your attention shifted from her back to your ex-boyfriend, “does it, Tom?”

Tom let out a laugh that made you want to shrink into yourself. “Sure, sure. You know what? Fuck you! I could have any girl I want! I don’t have to put up with this bullshit!”

“What bullshit? You’re the one with another woman hanging all over you.”

“Oh, seriously?” Tom looked to Jake and back at you, “Like you haven’t been slutting yourself out to guys like him?”

“Hey hey hey!” Penny moved toward the two of you, “I will not have this shit in my bar.”

Tom scoffed, “And what are you going to do about it?”

Penny smirked and ranked the bell. The whole crowd cheered as Tom looked around in confusion.

“Overboard! Overboard! Overboard!”

Before he had time to think, much less react, Tom was hoisted into the air and carried toward the exit. Before he knew it his ass hit the sand and the doors to the bar were slammed shit.

Jake looked over to you, you had shrunk into yourself at Tom’s words but tried your best to hide it. He gently placed his hand on your shoulder. “You wanna get outta here?” He gave you his iconic smile and you couldn't help but give him a small smile in return.

“Yeah, I would rather be anywhere but here right now.”

“I think I know just the place.” He cashed you both out with Penny and led you to his truck.

“I hope this isn’t your masterful plan to get me back in your bed.” Half joking you look over to him.

He let out a breathy laugh, while he liked the thought of you back in his arms, tangled in the sheets of his bed, he knew that’s not what you needed. At least not right now. “Unlike some, I am capable of think without using my dick.”

The two of you drove in comfortable silence. You noticed that he had driven you back to Miramar. He parked and you looked at him with some confusion. “Come on,” he hopped out, grabbing two blankets out of his back seat before making his way towards the back of the truck and you followed. “You remember back in Corpus Christi when we would sneak onto the base and watch the planes take off.” He laid out the blankets and lifted you to sit on the truck bed.

“I remember us almost getting arrested senior.” I couldn’t help but laugh as you remember that night. You also remember that being the night you two first kissed.

He jumped up to sit next to you, “Thankfully, we don’t have to worry about that.”

Your eyes drifted in his direction, taking in his form. His strong arms, his hands that were much larger than your own. His strong jaw and beautiful eyes. You knew your timing could have been better, but you couldn’t stop yourself, “I’ve missed you, Jake…” Your head came to rest on his shoulder.

His head came to rest slightly on your own, “I missed you too, Honeybee.”

Tags: @callsign-viper @luckyladycreator2 @saturnsbabe69 @desert-fern @pono-pura-vida

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

#top gun #top gun maverick #jake “hangman” seresin #top gun fanfiction #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #no beta

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Oh my GOSSSSSH, with every chapter I post, we get closer and closer to the end and I'm literally wriggling in my chair in excitement, like holy shit! hahaha, anyway, I so hope you enjoy this new chapter and the remaining ones to come! ENJOYYYYY <3

Chapter 101: The Merciless Queen 

“If we are to give Flea Bottom gold to build new dwellings, whose to say that the other small folk across the realm won’t decide to take arms and demand the same?” Lord Tyland Lannister, elder brother of Jason Lannister and Master of Coin argued, seated amongst the other Small Council members who seemed to be in a disarray since the slaying of their previous King, Aegon.

It had been a few days since his death, and whilst Aemond and yourself could not keep your hands off of each other, there was no denying the tension that still circled around the two of you. 

You had been coronated as Queen Consort, a short lived affair in the throne room with only the Small Council present, letters written to be sent out shortly thereafter to their supporters. There was no celebrations to be had, no drinking or dancing. It was short, brief, and most importantly, political move.

And now, all sat in wait for the more pressing question at hand.

What was to happen to the treaty?

And yet despite this question, and the sheer multitude of meetings with the council, Aemond let the unknown hover over your head like smoke, filling your lungs thickly and choking you.

When once Maester Orwyle had asked the same question, which was asked more than once a day, Aemond had barely given the man a second glance, and redirected the question elsewhere. 

In no time however, much to the urging of Otto Hightower and Lord Jasper Wylde, word would soon reach Dragonstone, and the Green Council would need to be ready for such events.

There was a very real possibility that at the knowledge of Aegon being indisposed of, and the Greens thus only having one dragon rider, may invoke the wrath and fury of all the Black’s power. 

And in this moment, they had it. 

And the council, knew it. 

There was an all encompassing feeling of dread that filled each member. The anticipation being a most poisonous thing, and at any loud noise or uncertain sound, Alicent Hightower would jump in her seat, eyes skating to the doors of the chamber they were in, or looking out the window to the skies. 

“Then see to it that they do not.” Breezed Aemond, the Conquerors Crown seated atop his head, ruby glinting in the light of the chambers.

“I do not see why we need to do so in the first place, Your Grace.” Maester Orwyle spoke, “The small folk are not in need or want, nor do they know more than what they have.”

Aemond blinked slowly, finger impatiently tapping on the table as he looked at his men and mother, the gold ring upon is finger clunking on the wooden surface.

“We have the gold, not much, but enough. As it is, their disdain for us was exaggerated by my brother and his selfish disregard for their needs." Aemond began, "I couldn’t care for what they do below in their shit and piss, but my Lady wife has spoken of the benefits of having the love of the small people, and we are in dire need of support.”

You shifted in your seat, suddenly feeling the eyes of all the Lords at the table, and the ever present scowl of Alicent Hightower directed at you. Swallowing, you licked your lips, fingers finding your council sphere and spinning it in its dish.

“My mother is loved by the small folk, as was I,” Before they dubbed me the Merciless, “‘The Realms Delight', they named her, most beloved and fair, much the same for my sweet aunt Helaena."

You paused, letting your gaze stop on Alicent, "Where as when they think of the King, they have little good things to say. Two Kinslayers on the throne would no doubt further press their disdain." You turned back to Aemond, "The support of the common folk is important when ruling, it makes things easier, and if the time comes, they will take up arms to support your cause.”

Larys Strong’s voice carried across the table, his high lilt directed at you. His hands were crossed over the top of his cane delicately between his knees at the table, “My spiders have told me that there are ample supporters of your rule, Your Grace.”

You scoffed, “Supporters of the Faith perhaps, or the whispers of the old militant sect even, but that support lies with Alicent, and they would surely have issue with mine and Aemond's union, as is our tradition as Targaryens, and also the very issue of us both being Kinslayers," You looked to Alicent, "Which we are very much reminded of. But the small folk, the true small folk who live in poverty, where sickness and disease is ripe, have no positive feelings of loyalty towards a King who does not see them and gorges upon riches unimaginable. My father took to the streets and killed every rapist and murderer in Flea Bottom, punished thieves and crooks, and the small people felt safer.”

“They were scared out of their wits.” Otto sighed, “The small people need nothing but the clothes on their backs. Simple minds think not of extravagant pleasures.”

Anger rolled through you, “Having proper housing and not living in the streets is not an extravagant pleasure. I would say it is a right for them to live freely and happily, to pursue their desires and passions.”

Jasper Wylde placed his long fingers upon the sphere, several gold and silver rings adorning the digits, “The Queen makes a point, Your Grace. King Jaehaerys was loved by the small folk for his benevolence, and the actions of Maegor the Cruel brought him nothing but trouble. Perhaps the spending of a few Gold Dragons on Flea Bottom’s worse affected slums could bring you support, especially now that the treaty is in question.”

Lord Jasper Wylde, Master of Laws, opened the conversation for the treaty to be discussed. 

Again.

All eyes were now on Aemond, who sat stiffly in his chair, one elbow upon the armrest, the other still tapping against the table.

“Has word reached Dragonstone?” Aemond questioned Larys, noncommittally. 

The brunette leant forward, bowing his head slightly as he spoke, “As it were, a spider intercepted an attempt to alert them. Though I have no doubt they will receive word by the morrow.”

The King hummed.

“Will the treaty be renewed, Your Grace?" Maester Orwyle began, eyes flicking to you, then back to the King, "I believe it to be prudent that we do so. As it were, we are outnumbered in dragons. You are but the lone rider here at the Keep.” You narrowed your eyes at Maester Orwyle, “Perhaps if we sent word and new terms, Rhaenyra will be-“

“-No.” Aemond’s word cut through the air like a knife. Crisp. Icy.

Final.

“No?” Otto questioned, “The realm will fall to war again if-“

Your heart beat against your chest like a drum, iciness spreading across your skin and at the base of your skull.

No.

“What do you mean, no?” You breathed.

Aemond did not turn to face you.

You snapped, “If you do not sign a treaty, they will come for you, Aemond. My mother and father will come to claim what is theirs.”

The King’s nostrils flared, “Let them. I ride the largest dragon in the world. If my half-sister wishes to declare war at the risk of your safety, then it shall be your blood upon her hands, not mine.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“My blood?”

Aemond did not even turn to face you.

Your hands slammed against the table, and you shot out of your chair, leaning towards your husband as you sneered, "Have you learnt nothing? You are blinded by your hatred. You will be our ruin, not Aegon.”

Aemond breathed sharply, eye solely on you as he spoke to the table, “Send coin to Flea Bottom. Hire masons and workers, or let the small folk build it themselves.” He looked to his men before finishing, “Clear the chambers.” He commanded the room, and all Lords and Lady Alicent, stood and quickly shuffled out of the room, leaving Aemond with an enraged wife.

“Are you to doom us all with your stubbornness? Have you gone mad?” You growled, “Your thirst for the throne will kill us, Aemond. My mother and father are not to be trifled with. My brother and sisters are not to be trifled with. Do you think that we will survive this?”

Aemond simply stared at you, hand still on the table tapping, whilst the other gripped the arm of the chair fiercely, knuckles white.

“Is it your true desire to have another war? Or is this a foolish little boys dream?” You said in disbelief, looking down at him from your standing position, hands still flat against the table to ground you, “I barely survived the last one, and yet you wish to play games with my mother and father? With my life? Do you know what they will do to you? What they could do to you? You would be dead before you even reached the skies.” You sneered.

The King’s lips pulled into a thin line, brows furrowed as he looked at you, barely contained anger burning behind the violet of his eye.

“They would not do it if it meant jeopardising your life.”

You flinched backwards, as though he had hit you, curling your hands into fists at your sides as you tried to steady your breathing, but panic coursed through your veins, and your throat grew tighter with each passing second.

"Is that a threat?”

Aemond frowned at you, the lines in forehead pulling the crown down in the slightest of movements. It was as though he was offended by your question, and though you had questioned every natural fibre of his being. 

“You think I would harm you? After all that has happened? After all I have done for you?” His voice became raised, anger leaking into each syllable. 

You scoffed, “You just said that them acting would put me at risk. What will you do? Have Ser Cole at my side, sword ready to cast against my neck or plunge into my heart?” 

Aemond leant forward and sneered, “Do you truly think so lowly of me? I did this for you! I love you!”

“Then do this for me, too! Renew the treaty, Aemond.”

“I can’t do that.” He breathed.

The backs of your calves hit the edge of the chair as you leant back, looking at your uncle from down your nose, “You can. But you won’t.”

Aemond did not respond.

“Sign the treaty.” You said more sternly, anger causing the words to come out harsh, and biting.

The King's broad chest rose and fell in his robes shallowly, his one eye watching you as his hands flexed upon the table.

“Why do you wish to sign a treaty with them? After all they have done?” Aemond growled.

After all they had done?

“They cast you aside! Abandoned you here to be tormented by Aegon.” Aemond continued, voice rising.

“They did not abandon me!” You snapped, hurt and betrayal causing tears to prick in your eyes.

“Oh? But they knew what would happen to you once you were wed to me. They let you be raped. You were sold to me like a brood mare.”

“And who did those things to me?!” You screamed, a tear falling down your cheek, “Who, Aemond? Who raped me? Who defiled me? Who scarred me? Because it wasn’t them.”

Aemond’s anger seemed to bleed out of him as he looked at you.

You pushed the chair backwards hard with a kick of your foot, sending the high-backed wooden seat to crash against the stones loudly, “You raped me. You hurt me. You did that. Not them. You! You act as though you’re innocent in all of this!”

“I don’t-“

“-I will not survive another war.”

The anger was back.

Aemond’s lips curled in disgust, “You expect me to bend the knee to your mother? The very woman who wished to punish me after her son took my eye?”

Your face fell, “No.” You declared, “I expect you to give the treaty a chance. Countless lives will be lost if you start another war, Aemond. Needless blood will be shed. Could you live with yourself knowing this?”

“Yes.”

The answer came so quickly, that it seemed that Aemond had not even needed to give it a second thought. As though he had already weighed all possibilities against each other, as though he had measured the odds.

And still, he had said yes.

You swallowed thickly, wishing the damn lump to leave your throat. And so quietly, you asked a question which clawed at you from the back of you mind. A question of doubt. Of fear. Of another ‘what if’ that you had to bat away with a swift blink of your eye.

“Even if it is mine?”

It was an uncomfortable sort of silence, and this time, Aemond did not answer straight away. Not like how he had a moment before. As though he had not weighed up this question in his mind yet, or perhaps he had, and had come to no conclusion. You watched his face as he stared at you, his seeing eye flickering across your face as a finger twirled the ring upon his hand.

“I will not lose you." He began, making a move towards you, "But I will not bend a knee to Rhaenyra, and kiss her old cunny for the sake of peace.”

His tone was final, he had hissed your mothers name like a curse, and there was no changing his mind. No shifting of the tide that had been steadily building for months now, a tide which had moved away from the shore, sucking the water and life away from the beach, revealing the jagged rocks that were hidden beneath.

You blinked again, another tear falling down your cheek.

Your uncle continued, “And if it need come to war, then so it shall be.”

It was so point of fact. 

So emotionless.

Toneless. 

Void of anything other than finality. 

War was to come.

And there would be no changing that.

“But,” Aemond’s voice startled you from your thoughts, your eyes racing over his face, “You are Queen now. My Queen. Something that is and was always your birthright.”

“Like my mothers.” You sneered.

Aemond ignored your comment and continued, “And you, as Rhaenyra’s heir shall sit the Iron Throne in her place. And then, when the time comes, our heir shall follow."

It was clear to you then, that Aemond had thought on this.

"If Rhaenyra’s concern for succession is blood, then she can be satiated in knowing that the daughter she denied shall sit where she is owed by her birthright.”

You stepped towards him, hands clenching and unclenching, “Aemond, please. Think about this. You are asking me to depose my mother.”

“I ask nothing of you. I am telling you, zaldritsos. I will not have you be pushed aside again for your bastard brother. I will not bend the knee to my half-sister. This throne is ours. It is ours by birthright. And I will be damned if I let anyone take you away from me again."

The air in the chambers shifted, and you inched towards your husband as he continued to speak.

"Do you think that if I bent the knee to them, that your father would let you stay wed to me? Think on it a moment, Y/n. Do you think that your mother would let you stay wed to a monster? The man who killed her son? They will take you from me."

You stepped away from him, turning your back as your mind raced a as you looked around the chambers, eyes casting out the veranda at the clouded skies. Dread settled in your gut.

You didn't want to be parted from him.

You loved him.

The air was charged as you spoke, voice shaking, “So what now? Are you to send word to them?”

Aemond stood behind you, the chair scraping against the stone floors.

“I will be sending Otto and Ser Cole to Dragonstone as envoys to give word to Rhaenyra and Daemon. They will be told that their blood sits upon the Iron Throne as Queen. They will be allowed to live where they do. My half-sister can have Dragonstone, I have no need for it when I have Kings Landing and you. And they will bend the knee.”

You shook your head, still not turning to face him, “You should know that they will not.”

“Not if you don’t encourage them.”

Your eyes widened as you spun on your heel to look at him.

He was deathly serious.

“You wish for me to ask them to bend the knee to you?” You laughed.

Aemond frowned, “A letter from the Queen is a hard one to refuse. Especially if the Queen is their own daughter. Tell them of the fears that you have. That war will break if they do not swear me as their King and you as their Queen. They can remain on Dragonstone, and you shall remain here, with me. Where you belong.” 

He seemed so sure that it would work. So sure that a simple letter from you would bring the water back to shore. But the tide was gone from your reach, and you were anchored on the coast atop a beached ship with no way to get off. 

Aemond stepped forward, cupping the side of your face gently as he looked at you, "They will listen to you.”

You grasped his wrist tightly, “I am not so sure.” Your voice was quiet, so fragile, like the finest of glass from Essos. One octave higher, one shift against your throat could cause them to crack or break.

If you did this, you would be betraying them.

You would be deposing your mother.

Aemond pulled you into a reassuring kiss, one he poured love and adoration into as he cupped your face in his hands. When he pulled back, his eye roamed your face softly, “I do not wish to see bloodshed, nor do I wish to see you harmed. This is the only way, surely you can see that."

And you did.

You did see that.

You saw it all clearly.

Your husband pressed another kiss against the top of your hairline, your eyes sliding shut as you breathed through your nose, preparing yourself for what you had to do.

"I trust that my Queen will know what to do.”

And you did.

You knew what you had to do.

And so with a short nod, you agreed to his terms.

“I will have Otto deliver your letter by hand.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog @coffedraven @prettycutebunny @celestedonut @the-jess-life @ssulfurr @out-of-life @madislayyy @crazylokonugget @cicaspair418 @katwmk @relminnie @milovart @teagrex @visenyaverse @bellameshipper @toodlesxcuddles @tempt-ress @dontmindmereading7 @qyburnsghost @55gyi53vtnquwziq5 @notnormalthings-blog @maidmerrymint @qyburnsghost @madislayyy @chelseaouat

Bold is who I cannot tag!

#aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #hotd smut #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond x reader #dark!aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #dark!aemond #dark!fic #fic #series #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond #smoke fire and ash

[miniversse]

⭑ “snowbound” pt.3 ⭑

╰┈➤ OTHER PARTS ⭑ bang chan x female reader

⭑ content includes: oral (m receiving), hickeys, established relationship, non-idol chan, non-idol reader, work relationship, use of pet names (channie, baby, babe, princess), releasing, mentions of shower sex

⭑ note: last part of this series! i’m gonna miss it loads. not too much build up you can live hehe. lmk what you think!

⭑ minors dni

⭑——————————————————⭑

your hands are wrapped around his hard chest, and your legs were squeezed up to keep you warm from the winter mornings. before your mind could think of what breakfast to make today or what chans schedule will look like, you’re struck with memories of yesterday night, and that you and chan are no longer friends with benefits…

you let your mind relax, taking in the peaceful moment and listening to chans quiet snores. you let your fingers run over his biceps and you left a small pec on them, lingering to take in his morning scent. chan let out a grumble and pulled the blankets up to cover his chest.

“channie~ get up so we can make breakfast”

his head sharply turns to face you, and his eyes were bulging out of his face. it took him a few seconds to also remember yesterdays series of events and his head falls back down on the pillow, letting out a hearty laugh.

“good morning princess”

“‘cmon, i’ll make us pancakes” you jump out of bed and slap his ass jokingly, racing to the kitchen before he can chase after you.

by the time chan came over, you had set the table and mixed up the batter to cook it. his heavy steps approach you from behind and he wraps his arms around your stomach and lets his head fall in the nook between your shoulder and head.

“can we relax for a bit? im still hungover and my body aches”

“don’t we have work today? i barely have time to have breakfast with you and rush home to get ready”

“its newcomers training today, we have a day off” his nose grazes the inside of your neck, the cold metal of his piercing sending chills throughout your body.

you let out a sigh of relief. “thank god, i thought i’d have to get another written warning today”

“even if we did have work, i think we would be too busy to make it. hm?” he lets a breath escape from his lips and it graces your neck. he sucked and nibbled at the skin below your neck, moving his mouth down to mark another spot, your head fell back to fall onto his shoulders and you let go of the whisk, leaving it to chan to mix up a storm inside of you.

“pancakes sound great, but i can start your morning in another way.”

he turns his back to a counter and keeps his gaze on you, waiting for you to act. from day one you could tell that your boyfriend was heavily turned on in the mornings, and he wouldn’t let you go until you obeyed him. so you grab the claw clip next to the long forgotten mixing bowl and twist your hair up.

“come here” he stretches his hand out and brings you close to his body, connecting your mouths together. his body brought you warmth on this cold day, and he would do so for as long as you stay together. you let go from his touch, and brought yourself down, along with his shorts. his cock bulged from his underwear, waiting to be loved. he helps you in stripping his lower body bare.

“be good for me princess. hm?”

you nod, your mouth watering at the sight of his thick dick leaking of precum. you lick it off and plant a small kiss on his tip, warming up to his touch. you notice his breath getting faster and he gets impatient, placing his hand on the back of your head waiting for you to devour him whole. you close your eyes and open your mouth wide, taking him in and adjusting to his size. he lets out a long groan as your mouth dives deeper and deeper to take in his lengthy dick, the saliva coating your mouth covers his length and you continue to suck him with passion.

“holy shit, keep going princess” he whispers and lets his other hand hold onto the counter edge as you moved faster and took more of him in.

you tried your best to not choke on him yet keep him satisfied but it was difficult with him pushing your head further and controlling your pace. you slightly gag and retreat for a moment before you kept going. his head shot back and he let out consecutive grunts and whimpers, attempting to clear his dry throat. his length jerks in your mouth and he moves his hand from the counter edge to helping himself reach his release, pumping his cock as you licked his tip and moved back up again. his endless streams of cum fill up your dry mouth, and you swallow with every release he has. he watches you do so, agaped.

you bring yourself back up to fall on his chest, panting in symphony as you regain your breathing rhythm. his hand rubs up and down your back, planting pecks at the top of your head.

“thank you baby”

his kisses and touches continued in the shower. you promised each other to take separate showers and resist each other but it was difficult when you were both snowbound, and the warm water crashing on the both of you wouldn’t melt that away.

⭑ FIN

⭑ TAG LIST (PM TO BE INCLUDED)

@captainchrisstan

@strayywayy

#stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop #skz x reader #kpop smut #bang chan #bangchan x reader #lee know #lee know x reader #changbin #changbin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #han jisung #han jisung x reader #lee felix #lee felix x reader #seungmin #seungmin x reader #jeongin #jeongin x reader #smut #skz imagines #skz x you #skz scenarios #skz stay #skz fanfic #kpop x reader

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 15/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

hooo weee this is a long one. A reaction chapter part 1

A few things to clear up:

Sir Pentious is in Heaven

They do not know that yet.

He'll have a part in the sequel!

------------------------------------------

Charlie is beyond worried.

She and the entirety of Pride sat in anticipation as Hell's highest powers perform the ritual again. Her dad disappeared a month ago and in his absence, she thinks she had handled Pride rather well. Vaggie and her friends were a big help though, as well as her uncles and aunts if they could.

Charlie has not missed once broadcast ever since it aired. Every time she looks for her dad among the demons and every time she's disappointed.

She keeps watching anyway in support- no matter how busy she was. The hotel residents do the same, dropping what they were doing to all sit in the couch together and watch this 'til it ended. The first time it aired created a mass panic that Charlie had to induce a Hellshake to placate her people. It somehow worked.

After the panic, it became the biggest hit "show" in Pride, resulting in the production of legit merch and even a few parodies- like it's just a game, like this can't kill them all.

That craze lasted almost 2 weeks but even the fanatics stopped watching when it was apparent that this wasn't a quick fix. Panic again then calm then panic- over and over and over again.

Vaggie: Babe?

Charlie: Hey, Vaggie.

Charlie tried to give her lover her usual smiles but she thinks she haven't given one ever since her dad left. Worry and guilt are eating her whole and she's just trying to stay afloat.

Vaggie: Hey, come on. What's going on in that pretty head of yours?

Charlie: Flatterer.

Vaggie: Not wrong though. But don't try to change the subject. .. Is it about your dad?

Charlie: I don't think I remember a time in a hundred years when it wasn't. When did it go so wrong, Vaggie? We were so happy when I was a kid..

Something inside the princess whispered her mother's name. She shakes off that thought because there's no way. Her mom and dad loved each other.

'But then why did they split? Why did your mom leave? Why did your dad fall in love with someone again?'

The voices are making a point but there's no chance her dad was going to tell her everything and it's not like her mom is even an option.

When Vaggie told her that Alastor and her dad were something, she tried to think of every moment she saw of her dad and the radio demon together after the hotel was rebuilt. The princess of Hell trusts Alastor but she doesn't know if she can trust him with her dad.

But..

Charlie: Dad is happier.

Vaggie: Huh?

Charlie: Sorry. Was thinking of him and how Alastor is probably helping him come out more than I am.

Vaggie: Hey hey. I know your dad would be devastated if he knew you were thinking that. He loves you and you love him, right?

Charlie: More than anything.

Vaggie: That's my girl. Now why don't we-

Cherri: Holy shit! Guys! The broadcast turned on again!

All of them rushed to the lobby upon hearing the cyclops yell. They thought it was over 30 minutes ago when the nth overlord and Goetia fainted. Guess Vox was a bit afraid he would be next and turned it off to save face.

Angel: Holy shit!

Holy shit indeed. The one on the screen is none other than her dad! And a beautiful lady in white?

Husk: Who the fuck is that?

Nifty: She looks so clean! I wanna know what products she use.

Vaggie: Do you know who that is?

Charlie: Probably who dad was looking for.

Goodie: Such words! Angel, was self-preservation not included when you gave them the fruit of knowledge? Lucifer: Apparently not.

Okay, they clearly missed out on some context because her dad just arrived and he's mad. They watch as Lucifer grabs Velvette's face hard enough to bleed. Everyone is kneeling and seem to be locked in place. Husk eyes Alastor's monstrous form in the background warily.

Husk: Something happened.

Lucifer: I can't blame you. I was not the most present ruler, after all. But I thought I made something very clear when I dealt with that moth man.... I guess one example isn't enough.

One moment Velvette was struggle and the next her fucking jaw is gone!

Angel: Holy shit!

Husk: Ugh! You keep saying that. Don't you have any other words than holy shit?

Angel: 'M sorry, Huskie. But what else am I supposed to say to that huh??

Charlie's winces but her eyes are still glued to the screen as her dad summons his flaming sword and brings it down to the pink demon.

Lucifer: So, let me keep it simple. I'm Lucifer Morningstar. The creator of the first sin. The angel that damned humanity. Í̷̫̈́́͂̒̚̕͝͝͝'̶̨̛̺̤̿̀͒͛̂̿͋̄̑͆́͘͠͝M̴̝̯̖̦͍̽̎̏͆̔ ̴̛̛̄̋̈̑̓̀̓̃̄͐͗ͅŸ̷͇̙̟͈̭̥̬̻̙͔̠̱́̽̊̊ͅÔ̵̤͙͈̬̫̪͕̼͍͌̀̔͜U̴͈̼͖̯̤͌̀̀̓̾̔͆̈́̊͑͗̕͠͝R̵̨̹͍̦͒͌̋͒͆͌̄͛̓͑̔́͜ ̸̝͑̐̀̉̃͠͝F̵̞͖̮̗̗̜̯̯͔̮͒̊͒̈́̈́́̽́̂̂͑̎͝U̵̟̙̱̙̯̤̼̙͈̳̘̫͊̈̀C̷̙̞̔̅̊͌͋K̷̖͙̼̪̠̾̄̅̾͘I̵̛̩̘̜͖̩̙̿̐̽́͊́̒͆̆̎̑͗N̴̤̏̂͝G̸͋̋̍ͅ ̵̡͈̩̹̗̹̝̻̬͍̗̬̲̳̟̍͋̽͛̒̉̍͊͑̑̋̅̽Ḳ̷̡̬͔̞̱̤̬̮͉̙͇̪͛̅͊̚I̵̤͙̪̞̝͔̱͎̜̩̖̺̟͔̙͊Ṉ̵͈̤̘͚̻̙̼̓͂̌͋́̎͜ͅĢ̸̭͔͇̹̹̳̭͋̓̒͗̈́̉̈́̂̚.

They all had to avert their eyes as a giant ball of flame came down to finish Velvette off.

Lucifer: Û̶̪̌͐́̂̆͠͠n̸̛̟͕̱͍̫̘̻̣̱͈͈͇̱̜͛̓͗̏̅̇͋̒͆͊̓͗̚͠d̷̢̢̨̼̙͈̞͈͓͈͙̂̌͋̔̂̉̍̈́͆̿̈́̕͘͜͠e̵̛͍̯̫̼̫̐͛̊̒̆̉̓̊̽̓̒̒̚͘ŗ̶̨̢̧̮̜͙̪̹̯̙̪̤̠̝̓́̒̋͆̆̓̿͐̄̓̕̚̕ş̷̛̮͖̰̝̟͇͕̟̞̳̟̪̥̂̀̈́̈͗́̿̐̔̎̕̕͠t̶̮̖̭̹͓͉̪̣̦͙̖͍́͐͂̑͒̑͂̑̾̓̍̊͝ô̵̥͓̥͐̄̏̀̾̀̽̆ò̴̜͇̣̣̳͖̗̹̟̇̓͑͝ͅd̸̨̨͈͓̠͑͑̒̎̈́͘͠?̸̟̎̈

Even the sinners in the safety of the hotel nodded in fear. Lucifer made a delighted noise and with a clap, Velvette is back in one piece, albeit trembling in Vox's arms.

Lucifer: What? Do you really think I killed her? Sounds counterproductive. We still have a situation at hand and you are no use to me dead. Goodie: Up now! My sister is becoming restless.

Everyone let out a breath they didn't know they were holding. Angel collapsed to Husk's side, when did he even stand up? Nifty didn't move a muscle but her maniacal smile is gone. Cherri started fiddling with an ignited bomb out of nowhere which Angel had to move to throw.

Goodie: Remember, angel, if this fails, you must do what I have told you. Lucifer: Let's start.

Angel: Holy shit.

Holy shit indeed.

-----------------------------------------

Part 16 will be the 2nd part of the reaction before Lucifer goes in!

Dk if I will post on Wednesday as it will be my birthday! yayy

#hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin lilith #hazbin vaggie #hazbin nifty #hazbin cherri bomb #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin niffty #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #hazbin hotel sir pentious #radio demon #radioapple #alastor x lucifer #lucifer x alastor #duckiedeer #appleradio #alastor and lucifer #lucifer centric #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne

[peachhcs]

Sammy is so happy after last nights win for BC- especially since Will got his first hat trick and was named mvp of the game 🥺

no one else i’d rather celebrate with

yes she was! she had the game on her computer in her dorm where both her and hannah were cheering for the boys as they watched them celebrate on the ice.

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will blurb)

samy couldn’t be more proud of her boyfriend for tonight & they desperately wished they were in the same place to celebrate

i wrote this at like 1 am and i’m actually pretty happy with the outcome LOL keep sending in requests! i’m slowly working though my inbox, but i wanted to get this one out since it just happened and i didn’t wanna wait too long :)

au masterlist

as soon as the buzzer sounded, samy was jumping out of her chair, screaming in excitement with hannah. the two girls grasped one another’s arms, nearly in tears as all the boys immediately stormed the ice to celebrate one another and the hockey east victory.

“they won! holy shit, they won!” hannah couldn’t stop screaming, probably making their neighbors wonder what the hell was happening.

samy scanned her screen for her boyfriend. she quickly found his number 6 and the big smile on his lips warming her heart seeing him so, so happy. she couldn’t believe he scored four entire goals and his very first hat trick of his career.

despite all of the joy in her, the disappointment settled beside it that she couldn’t be there in person celebrating with him and the boys. this was the worst part about long distance. they had to celebrate over a facetime, hiding the disappointment that they weren’t together in person.

the cameras were panning to different shots of the bc boys celebrating. one picked up the freshman exchanging tight hugs with one another. samy’s heart warmed seeing will and gabe exchange a loving, proud hug with one another and she knew how much both of them dreamed of this moment together.

“i’m so proud of them,” the brunette gushed, her eyes glued to her computer.

“they played so well. i just know they have a national title in their future,” hannah agreed.

another few minutes passed before awards and honors started getting announced once the commotion settled down.

“with four goals and 1 assist in tonight’s championship game, we would like to announce forward, will smith, as the 2024 hockey east tournament mvp!”

more screams were heard across the small dorm. samy couldn’t contain her excitement watching will skate up to the coaches, another huge smile on his lips as he stood up between them for the photo and his plaque.

all of his hard work finally payed off. the brunette knew how hard he worked all season for this moment and seeing it all come together had tears lining the girl’s eyes.

“oh my god, you’re crying,” hannah pulled her roommate into a tight hug.

“sorry, i’m just so proud of him. he deserves this so much,” samy wiped some of her tears away.

oh how badly she wished she was there in person to give will a giant hug as soon as he walked out of the locker room.

all-tournament was announced with will and gabe included. samy loved how big their smiles were getting praised for doing so well in the sport they loved.

the live stream ended leaving the girl to patiently wait for will’s call. she knew it’d probably be awhile with press and celebrating with the team, so she tried busying herself with some schoolwork.

will’s contact flashed across her screen forty minutes later. samy didn’t waste anytime picking it up, smiling wide when she saw her boyfriend’s own smiling face.

“we’re tournament champions!!” the boy exclaimed and showed off his impressive medal.

“i know!! i’m so, so proud of you, will! you deserve it,” the girl gushed, blowing quick kisses into the camera.

“did you see my four goals?” will asked excitedly and samy nodded.

“watched the entire game. you played so well. i can’t believe you got four goals,” she gushed again.

“me neither. it still feels like a dream i haven’t woken up from. look at my plaque!” he held up the circular piece of hardware with the words most valuable player carved across the bottom.

“it’s incredible. where are you gonna hang it up?” samy wondered.

“i’m thinking right above my bed. what do you think?” will flipped the camera around so samy could see. she nodded.

“i like it there. gotta show it off,” she grinned. will flipped the camera back around, propping his phone against something so he could lean back in his desk chair. his curls were damp from his shower still and he still had his suit on.

“i wish you were here. i miss you,” the blonde said with a sad smile.

“i wish i was there too. at least you got the boys to celebrate with,” the brunette chuckled some.

“i’d rather celebrate with you. i came out of the locker room just instinctively thinking you’d be there waiting like always. i forgot you wouldn’t be,” will’s confession had samy’s heart clenching. a blush spread across her cheeks as she tried finding something to cheer him up with.

“at least summer’s only two months away,” the girl offered.

“two months too long. doing all of this without you by my side like always has been hard to adjust to,” will leaned forward closer to his phone. his second admission was gonna make samy cry.

long distance really did suck sometimes. especially during moments like these ones.

“you’re gonna make me cry,” the girl frowned, but smiled nonetheless.

“i’m sorry, i don’t mean to. i miss you a lot. i really can’t wait for summer,” will chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood.

“your haircut looks nice by the way,” samy commented which instantly made will touch his hair. he flushed.

“it does?”

“mhm. your short hair is cute,” the girl nodded.

“gabe begged me to get a mullet, but i just couldn’t do it. i figured i’d cut in shorter to get rid of dead ends,” the boy chuckled earning a giggle from samy.

she dragged her finger across her desk, seeing the time tick closer and closer to 10:30. she had early morning practice tomorrow and she knew will probably had celebrating to do with the boys after their big win.

“i should probably let you go. you probably have a party to get to or something to celebrate the win,” samy said after a moment despite not wanting to hang up the call so soon.

“what? no. you’re hanging up already?” will quickly sat up. his words had her flushing.

“i mean..i don’t wanna keep you from the parties,” she laughed briefly.

“no, no, you’re not. i promise. i told you i’d rather be celebrating with you,” will urged.

“really? i mean there’s not much we can do over the phone. we can celebrate over the summer. belated celebration. maybe there will even be a national title to celebrate too,” the girl grinned.

“let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” the blonde laughed. “you know i’d rather spend the night on the phone with you than at some party where i’d just be thinking of you the whole time, right?” he searched her eyes through the screen. another blush spread scores the brunette’s cheeks.

“you’re sure?” samy asked just to make sure. she hated keeping will from doing things with his friends because she truly didn’t mind knowing tonight was a big night.

“i’m sure,” will stuck his pinky out.

samy copped his motion and the two pretended to hook their pinkies together.

“plus, i can think of a few ways we can celebrate over the phone,” a look crossed in will’s eyes and samy immediately knew what he was thinking.

her poor blush got even worse, glad that hannah was in the bathroom so she didn’t hear what he said.

“will!”

all that could be heard was a laugh from his end and the two sharing wide smiles.

#hughes!sister x will smith au #will smith hockey #samy x will #boston college #boston college hockey #samy hughes #umich hockey #will smith imagine #will smith x oc #uofmichigan #will smith hockey fluff #willl smith fluff #gabe perreault #ryan leonard #jacob fowler #aram minnietian #drew fortescue

[actual-changeling]

bear with me here but i think michael would actually be quite a nice person if they were alone with someone they're not in a power struggle with.

we see what heaven is like, the higher your position, the more influence and power you have over the other angels, archangels included, and being a low ranking angel fucking sucks.

there is michael and uriel hashing it out over gabriel's position and they never STOP doing that, every single time we see them they're still competing to see which one will take the empty throne/have the most to say. it's michael bringing up being duty officer, it's uriel being the one to turn off the alarm with that smug little look and voice, it's the entire scene with the match box - all of it.

gabriel has no one to fight for power and he makes the others feel it. especially his arrogant, almost mocking "you can ask but i don't have to answer". the fact that they all let him go and only belatedly are like "fuck me he doesn't have a desk".

and then how absolutely terrified they all are when they realize who the metatron is. did we do something wrong and suddenly all power struggles with each other fall away because holy shit he can hurt us in a way we cannot (and never would) hurt each other.

i think an interesting little tidbit is also michael's behaviour when they bring the holy water to hell for the trial in season 1. that aura of smug superiority to defend their status and be the person with the most power in the entirety of hell in that moment.

all of this does have a point, and we're getting to it now.

get michael and dagon alone in a room, and, after the initial awkwardness and once they realize there's no reason to play tug of war with power, i am certain they'd bond. angels are lonely, and dagon honestly seems like fun (their fake vomiting gets me every time), and give michael the room to just relax for a fucking second and a person to catch them, and they will.

we see it happen with crowley and aziraphale, we see it with gabriel and beez, even with muriel in their initial conversation in the bookshop.

dagon and michael having somewhat secret meetings because their companies are a fucking mess, and it's nice to share the responsibility with someone, to not have to keep up a mask. a few meetings in, michael's had a horrible day, and right before they leave for heaven, they hesitate.

it's a i don't wanna go back and it's nicer here with you and i'm exhausted and it scares the shit out of them. but there's that moment during which they just look at each other, and dagon is a demon, they're not supposed to feel any good feelings, let alone love or care, yet they reach out and squeeze michael's hand, and they're both so shocked they let it pass without a word.

then michael spreads their wings, dagon mutters "fucking show off" because it isn't actually necessary, and with one last thankful little smile, they're off.

(somewhere in heaven, the metatron gets a sudden headache.)

(somewhere in... somewhere, god smiles)

#alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable administration #michael good omens #dagon good omens #good omens season 2 #go2 #ineffable divorce #i'm sorry i am fully on board with this now #i wasnt an ineffable bureaucracy shipper but this is my post season 2 crackship now #let me have this #also i see them from a lesbian perspective and there's something to be said about being attracted to the characters you ship #and i SO am #anyway anyone else here with me #also i'd love angelfish as a shipname but the tag is full of well. fish

[messrmoonyy]

Come to mommy

Tess Servopoulos x Fem!reader

Prompt: this is an whole amalgamation of the absolute onslaught of Mommy!Tess requests. To name a few snippets of some of them ‘ okay but mommy tess with the strap? 👀’ , ‘ can you write Tess fucking reader over the table or the counter ‘ , ‘ mommy!tess gives off big ‘ wearing the strap under clothes ‘ energy. Do with that what you will ‘, ‘ honestly need mommy Tess to fuck me brainless ‘

A/n- first of all, everyone say thank you to my fav anon Tess thirster for bringing up the idea of Mommy!Tess and sending you all cuckoo for coco puffs. so. Ugh. Yeah. I did not realise how feral you all were for Tess with a mommy kink. Like. Holy shit. I had just, so. So. Many varying asks asking for something or other that included it so I honestly just smashed them all together into this.I only proof read this once. EDIT: this fic has been reading weird if you are viewing in app, I recommend reading on browser or over on my ao3 instead! The link is over on my masterlist

Warnings: 18+ || tess, smut; soft Dom mommy kink tess, use of sex toys ( a strap on ), fake p in v ( reader receiving ) , praise kink, overstimulation, mild dumbification, tiny bit of choking, oral ( reader receiving) , mild degradation

Word count: 4.5k

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Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

The first time it happened it had been an accident.

You were a sobbing mess of a woman, shaking and sore and overstimulated beyond belief. She’d been working at you for hours. Well, that’s what it felt like at least, you’d long since passed the point of even knowing your own name never mind telling the time.

She’d gotten jealous after some nobody on your work detail had flirted with you, Taken you home and made sure you remembered exactly who you’d belonged to, her hands, her mouth, even the small selection of toys she’d scavenged over the years had made an appearance. And you were a total wreck.

And it had just… slipped out.

“ mommy please “ she’d froze, the hand currently fucking open your abused cunt with… you didn’t even know what toy it was at that point, stuttering for a moment. You hadn’t entirely even realised you’d said it, far too spaced out to process a straight thought. But Tess had processed it. She’d heard it. And Lord did she like it.

“ I know pretty girl, you’re doing so good for mommy arent you? “ she continued her prior actions, dragging the toy in and out of you at a brutal pace and eyes locked firmly on your face. Not that you could see clearly anymore, eyes blurry with tears and so drunk on the sheer presence of her “ come for mommy baby, it’s okay “

You’d never come so hard in your life you were certain of it, half hour after you were still shaking and floating. Brain on vacation somewhere sunny and warm and no longer in your body. To say it had been intense would have been an understatement.

You’d not discussed it at all afterwards. Maybe because you didn’t actually have a one hundred per cent certainty on if you’d actually even said it, or just simply imagined the whole thing.

But you had. And it had unlocked something practically primal inside your girlfriend.

She’d waited a few weeks before bringing it up again, leaving you to stew on the idea of whether or not you’d actually said it. Some internal debate on whether or not you should be embarrassed as hell or not. Was she not talking about it because she thought it was weird? Or because you’d not even said it? You didn’t know. And you weren’t about to ask her either. So you tried to forget it.

But it soon came back around.

Tess could always tell when you were in a bad mood. Granted, You weren’t exactly good at hiding it but she could read you like a book. She knew from one glance what mood you were in. But you weren’t exactly subtle about it in that moment. So you were not in a mood to talk to her that morning.

It was a rare thing for you to leave without saying goodbye, even if she was sleeping you’d shake her awake enough to drop a kiss to her lips and tell her you’d be back soon. But you’d woken up in a foul mood, whiskey hangover lingering in your skull even though you’d not drank half as much as Tess and Joel had. They could handle their drink. You couldn’t.

You’d debated staying in bed all day, but you had shit to do. So you’d reluctantly gotten up, silently changed, grabbed your bag and headed for the door. Thanking your lucky stars that Tess’ usual ability to wake up at the slightest sound was hindered when she was sleeping off an entire bottle of whiskey. So you’d scribbled a quick note and left.

The fresh morning air actually helped your head a little. October was in full effect, the air crisp and the early morning sun granting a little warmth as it cut though the fine layer of fog covering the QZ. The city air wasn’t particularly what you wanted, you wished you could be outside the wall and inhale some mildly fresher air. But you had shit to sell, and you weren’t stupid enough to go out there alone.

You started with the FEDRA officers. Knowing they were a little less dickish in the morning, not enough time for someone to have pissed them off yet. You knew who wanted what, and how much you could get for it. Knew exactly who to avoid too. Some of the guards would have arrested you on the spot, others would’ve taken far too much advantage of the fact that you were a woman. But you’d been at this for years now. You knew your clients.

So after a couple hours the pills, cigarettes and varying other stuff you’d taken out with you were gone. The space in your bag had been replaced with stacks of ration cards, ammo and a few other bits and pieces.

At least by the time you made it back to your apartment your head was much clearer, Your little hangover practically gone but still a niggling feeling of annoyance scratching at the back of your mind. The same way it had been for the last 3 weeks debating if you were gonna bring up the whole… mommy thing again. Or wait for her to. It was silly that it was still bothering you. You’d been with Tess for years, you should just talk about it.

But what was it. Maybe some sense of embarrassment that yes, it had slipped out by mistake, but it had only slipped out because you’d been thinking about it. That you’d wanted to say for ages and unfortunately in that moment you’d slipped up. Is that why Tess hadn’t brought it up? Had she thought it was weird? Had she thought talking about it would only embarrass you more?

Either way. It was pissing you off.

You unlocked the front door to find her sat at the table, looking far too alert for someone that had drank as much as she had the night before.

“ where the fuck have you been? “ she asked, eyes following you as you kicked off your shoes and headed for the kitchen.

“ working “ you said, dumping your bag on the counter and pulling the box of ration cards from your bag ready to count them. You heard the chair she was sat in scrape against the floor, the sound of her heading your way. She came up behind you, arms looping around your waist as you continued counting out your cards, her chin resting on your shoulder.

“ what’s going on? “ you didn’t answer her, counting under your breath and stacking the cards into piles “ baby “ you sighed as you lost count of the stack in your hand, her lips pressing softly against your neck distracting you immediately.

“ nothing “ you didn’t have to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes at you. You stacked the cards neatly as her arms tightened around you with a sigh, placing the cards into the box you stored them in ready to be tucked away under the floorboards again.

“ nothing “ she said, sarcasm lacing her words “ come on, tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. Why’d you leave without waking me up? “ you sighed debating just coming out with it and asking her. But you really weren’t in the mood for that conversation.

“ I just woke up in a funny mood. I’m fine” you reached into your bag again, making a note of how many cards you had and what stock was left. Tess shifted slightly behind you, her fingers slipping under the hem of your sweater.

She was quiet for a little while, watching you jot things down until you sighed. Putting down your pen, fingers pressing at your temples as your hangover threatened to make itself known again.

“ headache? “ you nodded and she pressed a kiss to the side of your head, then trailed her lips down across your jaw, nuzzling her nose behind your ear in a way that actually made a smile tug at your lips.

You almost hated her for how simple it was for her to pull you out of a bad mood, just by being sweet on you.

“ is that a smile? “

“ no “ you felt her smile against your skin and you forced yourself to suppress your own. Just to prove a point.

“ but you look so pretty when you smile, why are you in a bad mood? “ she was kissing at your neck again, her cold fingers moving further under the warmth of your sweater “ do you need mommy to make you feel better? “ you tensed as she said it, her voice in that low sultry tone that made you wet instantly. Never mind when she was saying… that.

“ i- Tess- “ words failed you, brain short circuiting as you tried to comprehend what was going on. What she’d just said. She’d really had you worrying all this time, when she liked it? Had she been worrying too? Or had she done it purposefully, waited a while to get you wound up thinking about it ready to pull the rug from under you by dropping it so casually?

She was evil

“ is that a yes? “ the way you could feel her grinning as she pushed at the collar of your sweater to nip at the juncture where your neck met your shoulder. She grabbed a hold of your hips with her hands, pulling you back against her and you gasped at what you felt.

“ is that- “

“ answer the question “ she said, pulling at your collar again to try and find more skin to smother in kisses. You wiggled your hips, trying to determine if you really were feeling what you thought you were.

“ yes “ you breathed out, hand reaching behind you and slipping into her sweats. Your breath stuttered as your thoughts were confirmed, fingers wrapping around the warm silicone of her strap “ you’ve been waiting for me to get home? “ you turned around in her embrace, resisting the urge to moan just at the sight of her.

“ figured when you left without telling me you were in a pissy mood. Only way to fix that is to fuck you until you forget why you’re mad in the first place. Isn’t it?” Your cheeks flushed and more embarrassingly, you could feel your clit throbbing in your pants as if it had its own fucking heartbeat.

God you were fucked.

She stepped impossibly closer to you, your back pressing against the edge of the counter, fingers nudging under your chin so you’d look at her face and not down at the phallic shape between her legs.

“ and I know nothing else gets you more braindead than taking mommy’s cock, isn’t that right pretty girl? “ your brain short circuited at her words, glitching as it attempted to process what she was saying to you. Whilst looking down at you like you were tiny, vulnerable. You could already feel your brain turning to nothing but a pile of mush inside your head.

Because she was right. Of course she was. You loved nothing more than letting her mould you and use you and turn you into brainless little toy, not a single care or thought in your head. Nothing to worry about except for her. The most perfect escape.

“ yes mommy “ it came out as a whisper, your voice already starting to fail you. You were certain you caught her breath hitch as the name fell past your lips, clearly enjoying it just as much as you were.

She captured your lips suddenly, a kiss so desperate that told she really was enjoying this. Your fingers grabbed at the hem of her shirt as she kissed you, hard and bruising in a way that would leave your lips swollen when she was done with you. Not that you cared.

Her hands were pushing at the waistband of your leggings, shoving them down as far as she could without breaking her lips away from yours. She grabbed at your waist then, hoisting you up to sit on the counter and standing between your knees and pushing your leggings the rest of the way off.

You whimpered as the toy brushed over your still covered cunt, already becoming desperate for her. You pulled away from her lips, pushing her shirt up and urging her to take it off.

“ please. Wanna see you “ she let you take it off, smirking at the way you practically drooled at the sight. Your fingers ghosted over the scars and bruises that littered her chest, her ribs, her stomach. When she was feeling particularly accepting of your affections, she’d let you smother every single one with kisses. Replacing the harsh memories and the pain, with your gentle touch.

You leant forward, unable to resist the urge to touch her when she was standing so close to you. Exposed in a way only you saw. Eyes flickering up to hers, waiting for her to stop you as you took a nipple between your lips. You sighed dreamily when she didn’t tell you to stop, relishing in the joy you got any time she let you touch her. She laced a hand into your hair as you covered every inch of her that you could reach in kisses, taking the opportunity to graze your teeth over her skin and mark her how she so often marked you.

You knew any other day she’d have scolded you for it, but today she was feeling nice. Letting you get away with things you wouldn’t normally because you were in a bad mood. Or had been anyway. It was impossible to be moody when you had a woman like her half naked in front of you.

“ feeling better already? “ she asked, her voice low, tugging lightly on your hair in a way that made your scalp prickle but not enough to hurt

“ mhm “ you mumbled, happy to just sit there and keep your lips on her tits all day. But she’d never let you do that.

“ I guess you don’t want me to fuck you anymore then “ you let go of her immediately, a pout on your face.

“ no no- please “ she smiled, a smugness that was almost annoying. You looked back down between you, wrapping your fingers around the toy as if to prove your point. That you very much did want her to fuck you. God you wanted nothing more.

Her eyes were locked on your hand, watching intently as you shifted closer to the edge of the counter, as you ran the tip of her cock against your still covered cunt. You sighed softly at the small amount of relief you got at finally having some kind of contact.

“ someones eager “ she gently moved your hand away “ baby girl you’re wet for me already? “ your cheeks flushed pink, squirming on the counter under her gaze. Her fingers brushed over the wet spot on your underwear and you let out a shaky breath “ what does my pretty girl want? “ she asked, pushing your underwear to the side, too impatient to even bother taking them off.

“ need you to fuck me “ you whispered, watching with blown out eyes as she spit onto her fingers, rubbing her hand over the toy in a way that shouldn’t have made your cunt throb the way it did “ god. Please “ you whined “ please mommy “ you sounded pathetic. Desperate.

“ shh baby I know, I know. Mommy’s gonna make you feel better “ she cooed, one hand grabbing onto your hip and the other pressing her cock against your clenching hole. You whimpered as she pushed in, adding inch after inch until she was flush against you “ such a good girl, look at you taking every inch of mommy’s cock “ you looked down at where your two bodies met, marvelling at the way you managed to take the whole length of her.

You eyes fell closed, trying to make your brain think a single tangible thought. But all you could think about was how full you felt. How deep she seemed to be inside of you, your walls clenching around the silicone.

“ fuck “ you breathed out as she started moving, her movements proving she was just as eager as you seemed to be. You wrapped your legs around her waist to keep her as close and deep as you could get her, nails digging into her shoulder as she drew a string of lewd sounds from your mouth.

“ that’s it baby, taking me so well “ you forced your eyes back open, locking them on hers as she fucked into you an increasingly brutal pace “ you like that, hmm? Like it when mommy fucks you like a little slut? “ you couldn’t answer her, high pitched moans the only thing leaving your throat. Her hand slipped around to the nape of your neck to keep you looking at her “ answer me “

“ yes “ you said breathless, forehead dropping onto hers for a moment. She was hitting the perfect spot with every thrust of her hips, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with every bruising move. It had only been a few minutes and you already were creeping closer by the moment.

You didn’t know what was more addictive, the look on her face as she slowly worked away any remains of your bad mood, or the feel of the tip of her cock as it brushed over the spot that made you see stars over and over again. In the past, with your ex, you’d found it incredibly difficult to come. So the way Tess could have you there with such ease baffled you every time.

“ fuck it’s so good “ she smirked at you as you tightened your legs around her waist, clinging onto her for dear life as you tried to stave your orgasm off. Not wanting it to be over yet. But she knew you too well.

“ already baby? “ you shook your head and tried to focus on keeping it away. But all you could think about was the stretch of your cunt, the pressure of her fingers on your hips. She’d pushed you into that far off space in your head, where your mind drifted and you didn’t have a full control over your body. It didn’t take much anymore.

“ don’t stop “ you begged, letting yourself drift further and further into your own head, arousal clouding your thoughts.

“ look so pretty when you’re taking cock baby” she said, breathless, that smug grin still plastered on her face “ taking it so fucking well for me “ you were reaching a point where it felt impossible to hold on any longer, your orgasm so close you could taste it. Silently you begged she wouldn’t make you hold it off, wouldn’t be her usual mean self and edge you for hours.

But it was like she read your mind.

“ I won’t make you beg baby it’s okay, come for mommy. Show me how pretty you look when you come on my cock “ her filthy words were the final piece of momentum you needed, eyes screwing shut as your first orgasm hit you like a freight train, cunt squeezing around the thick silicone buried inside of you “ that’s my girl, that’s it “ she said a softly, slowing her movements until she came to a stop.

You leant your head back against the wall behind you, trying to catch your breath. Your mind wasn’t your own, far off somewhere leaving you with no control over your own body. Brainless, unable to form a single thought other than Tess.

She pressed kisses across the damp skin of your neck. You pulled weakly at the hem of your sweater, too hot to leave it on any longer. She gently pushed your hands away and took it in her own hands “ i got you baby girl “ she said softly, pulling it over your head before going back to trailing kisses across your skin. You arched into her touch as she pulled at the cups of your bra, kissing at your neck as she squeezed your tit in her hand. You moaned as her thumb brushed over your sensitive nipple, cunt fluttering around the toy that was still buried inside of you “ was that good baby? “

“ yes mommy “ you sighed, eyes closing again as she grazed her teeth across your neck.

“ can you give me one more baby? Mommy wants one more “ as the afterglow began to lift you gave her a nod, opening your eyes again to look at her “ that’s my girl “ you whined as she let you go and she pressed a soft kiss to your lips to silence you. You winced as she slipped out of you, feeling too empty without her there “ can you stand pretty girl? “ your legs felt like jelly but you gave it a try anyway.

She held your waist as you slipped off the counter, grabbing onto her arms to keep yourself steady for a moment. She finally helped you out of your soaked underwear, then took your face in her hands once you got your balance, brushing her lips over yours for a moment before kissing you. You melted into her, hands wrapping around her wrists to keep her there. It was so unbelievably gentle compared to the way she had just fucked you. It always baffled you how quickly she could switch between the two.

The way her body pressed against yours had you getting worked up again embarrassingly easy, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to find some relief. She noticed your squirming, reluctantly pulling away from you and glancing down at the way you were squirming around.

“ aw baby girl “ she cooed, reaching down to cup your sticky cunt with her hand. You whimpered at the touch, hiding your face in her neck in some desperate attempt to be closer to her. She pressed a kiss to the side of your head and you just thanked your lucky stars that she was being nice to you today. Granting you the chance to come without begging, even wanting you to go a second time and not spend hours edging you until you sobbed.

“ mommy “ you whimpered into her neck, nuzzling your nose against her. Her other hand cradled the back of your head as she pushed a finger between your swollen, sticky lips.

“ I know baby I know “ she gently circled your clit as you whimpered against her skin, gripping onto her bicep “ so needy huh? “ you hummed an answer as she kept up her gentle pace on your clit. She loved it when you were like that. Desperate to be close to her, clingy and needy. You wrapped your hand around her wrist, trying to urge her to give you a little more. As if she hadn’t just fucked life out of you once already “ turn around for me baby “ she said after a few moments. You reluctantly let her go, turning around as she gently pushed at your back “ that’s my girl, just like that you got it “ your breath hitched as you felt her brush the tip of her cock between your sensitive folds, gasping when she caught your clit.

“ please “ you said, voice quieter than you’d expected. But she heard you anyway.

“ so fuckin needy “ she said, hand sliding down over your waist to your hip and squeezing lightly “ don’t worry baby. Told you. I got you “

You whimpered as she re entered your over sensitive cunt in one smooth thrust, giving you a moment before settling herself into a steady rhythm again. She was slower this time, but just as deep. Just as bruising. And you knew you wouldn’t last long at all.

Your brain was shattered. A pile of broken, useless mush rattling around inside your skull. Able to think of nothing but the feeling of the heavy silicone dragging against your tender walls, Tess’ fingers pressing at the flesh on your hips, the obscene wet sounds your body made as she used you. Tess.

You gripped onto the edge of the counter as her hips snapped against your ass with every thrust she made, knuckles blanching with how tightly you were holding on.

“ fuck baby you look so pretty like this “ she gripped tighter to your hips, pulling you back as she fucked you harder “ doing so well “ she praised, earning another whine of an answer from you as you relished in the words that left her lips “ taking mommy’s cock so well baby. Such a good girl for me “ her words shouldn’t have made your cunt flutter the way it did, words so filthy but said with such a gentle tone.

Your legs were shaking and you were almost afraid your knees would buckle beneath you, especially once your already looming orgasm hit you.

“ I need- I’m gonna- mommy “ you were far too deep inside your own head to form a coherent sentence. But she understood. She looped an arm under your waist and pulled you back up against her, your head falling back onto her shoulder.

“ want to come for me baby? Gonna come on mommy’s cock again? “ you nodded, unable to keep your eyes open anymore. The new angle was almost too much, the way she fucked up into you making your vision blur, hitting a spot you didn’t even know existed. Her fingers wrapped lightly around your throat, squeezing gently “ god look at you “ she breathed out “ mommy’s braindead little slut huh? “

And with that you were gone. The lack of oxygen reaching your already useless brain made it somehow more intense than the first. Your eyes rolling back as your whole body shook, trembling as you came for a second time.

“ that’s it. That’s my girl, there you go “ if it wasn’t for her arms around you you were certain you’d have fallen. Your body didn’t feel like your own anymore. Your bones made of jelly, your mind blank of anything but the woman who still had her cock buried in your aching cunt “ I want one more “ she said softly by your ear, nuzzling her nose against your cheek “ one more pretty girl. I know you can give mommy one more, can’t you? “ you weren’t entirely sure you could. You didn’t think in that moment you could even recite your full name, your legs were useless, your brain was gone. She’d done as she always did, turned you into a wreck.

“ I don’t- fuck “

“ you can take it baby girl, I know you can. Hmm? “ as much as your body felt done, you were actually curious if she could draw another orgasm out of you. It had been a while since she’d kept you going that long.

So you nodded, trying to steady your breathing.

“ that’s my special girl “ to your relief she scooped you up into her arms, carrying you over to your bed and laying you down. Thankful that she wasn’t going to make you try and stand any longer. You watched through half open eyes as she rid herself of her strap, climbing on top of you and pressing a kiss to your cheek and then your lips “ you’re doing so fucking well baby “

“ thank you mommy “ you whispered and smiled up at her, keening at the praise and sighing as she started trailing kisses down your body. She took her time, kissing along your neck, your collarbones. Take extra time to toy with your nipples and lick at the underside of your tits in a way that made your cheeks burn. She carried on further, lips trailing over your tummy and thighs. She gently nudged your legs apart, soothing her hands over your still trembling legs.

“ you gonna be a good girl for me and give me one more? “ you gave a small nod, lifting your hips off of the mattress to urge her to move. She gave a small laugh, patting your thigh lightly before dropping a gentle kiss to your cunt “ okay pretty girl, I got you “

It bordered on a little too much as her tongue made contact with your swollen clit, still sensitive from your previous two orgasms. She was the most gentle she’d been since you’d started, small gentle licks from your clit down to your abused hole.

You looked down at her, watching as she slipped her other hand down between her body and the bed. If she hadn’t wrecked you so much you’d have begged her to let you help her. But you knew in that moment she wouldn’t let you. And you were okay with that. Watching her devour your cunt, whilst toying with her own clit was enough to make you drool.

“ fuck “ you whimpered at the sight, feeling her smile against you as she suckled at your clit. Your skin prickled with goosebumps as she worked you towards the edge again. Your nerves were frayed, every single one buzzing from the never ending stream of pleasure you were being gifted.

Watching her hand pick up speed made you want to force your exhausted body to move and replace her hand with your own. It made your entire body blossom with warmth that she was so turned on without having even being touched by you. That fucking you, watching you, touching you, was enough to have her chasing her own orgasm.

As your back arched off the bed, orgasm number three wracking your body, you felt her hand tighten its grip on your thigh. A stuttering breath leaving her as her own climax peaked. You forced your head up to watch her, desperate to see the way her eyes screwed shut at the pleasure washing over her. You had the face committed to memory, seeing as you so rarely got to see it. It was often an image you replayed to yourself when she disappeared from time to time, using it to get yourself off.

She took a moment to compose herself before crawling back over you, a gentle hand cupping your cheek

“ hey baby girl “ she said softly, brushing your hair way from your damp forehead “ you did so fuckin well. So good for me “ you leaned into her touch, eyes too heavy to open now “ I’m gonna clean you up okay? “ you shook your head weakly, grabbing at her arms and tugging her down next to you

“ no “ you whined “ not yet… stay. Please “ she hesitated a moment but then moved to lay beside you, pulling you to lay on her chest. You snuggled against her, pressing your face into the crook of her neck and sighing dreamily. Looking well and truly fucked out “ hmm…better “ she stroked your hair softly as you both caught your breath, and you let your mind piece itself back together again.

And you took a moment to try and remember why you’d even been mad in the first place.

#well #there you have it #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos #the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us fanfic #Anna torv #lesbian #lgbt #other characters for exposure: #Joel miller #ellie williams #smut

[everythingharrypotterblog]

charmed [15]: 'padfoot' (wolfstar x reader smut)

a/n: HOLY SHIT GUYSSS. we're ALMOST NEARING THE END. enjoy this short lil part. its spicy, its sweet, its sad. it's rly been a journey and i am so not ready for it to end. as always, itd make me so happy to hear from you.

warnings: smut, mmf threesome, oral f! and m! receiving

series summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.

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15.

1980. Very shortly after Y/N joined the Order.

“Dog.” Remus pointed out.

“Dog.”

Y/N and Remus were on a walk in a little London park. 

“I need to pet it so bad.” Y/N said. Remus chuckled, sneaking a glance at her.

And luckily enough, as they walked past the owner, the fluffy golden retriever with a waggy tail proved to be friendly, running over to Y/N and Remus.

“Hi! Hello!” Y/N exclaimed happily as the dog ran up to her, sniffing and licking her legs. “May I pet him?” She looked up at the owner.

“Of course.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet aren’t you— oh!” Y/N giggled, kneeling down and petting the dog, giving him good scratches everywhere and letting him lick her face.

Remus looked down on her with fondness on his face before crouching down beside her to pat the dog’s head.

“Have a great day.” Y/N smiled as they got up. The owner tipped his hat at them, and they walked away from each other.

“Big dog lover, eh?” Remus said.

“Yes.” Y/N smiled. “I just love them so much, they’re so cuddly and happy. They make me feel better every single time.”

“That’s really cute.” Remus said, refraining from saying “you’re”. They had just began being friends, he was way too shy to let his crush on her show just yet.

+

It was a Tuesday evening in November and a few Order members were gathered at Number 12 Grimmauld Place after a meeting.

“Hey Y/N, you okay?” Remus said as he walked in on Y/N in the living room, laid down on the couch under a blanket.

“Yeah.” Y/N replied. “Just traditional seasonal depression. It makes me want to hole up and do nothing.”

Remus took a seat at her feet. They stayed in silence for a little while until Remus sat up suddenly. “Wait here.”

He went to the kitchen where Sirius was and whispered something in his ear.

A few moments later, a big shaggy black dog burst through the living room, running straight for Y/N.

“Oh my GOD!” Y/N sat up immediately, closing her eyes as the dog jumped on her and started licking her face. “OH MY GOD, WHERE DID YOU COME FROM—“ She squealed out of happiness as he wagged his tail, nuzzling her and happily accepting her scratches.

Remus felt warmth fill his chest and cheeks as Y/N’s hearty loud laugh filled the room. He realized that he loved seeing her happy like this. And he did like that it was his doing.

+

The kitchen was filled with the clunk of glass Butterbeer bottles hitting the table, the crunch of biting into a handful of chips and loud booming voices.

“Y/N, your turn.” Remus said.

“Mkay,” Y/N said, leaning over to pick up a card. She read it, “Question. Have you ever lied to me and if yes, what was the lie? Hmm…. I’m gonna ask it to the both of you, can I do that?”

Sirius shrugged from across the table. “Okay. So a time where both Moony and I have lied to you?”

Y/N nodded, leaning back in her chair. She looked at the two, smiling. “This should be good.”

Remus and Sirius looked at each other, pensively. Remus burst out laughing. “Well, there is a big thing that we’ve been keeping from you…”

“What?” Sirius looked at Remus confusedly. Remus stuck his tongue out and panted, and Sirius threw his head back in laughter upon comprehending. “Okay, yeah, Y/N there is one thing.”

“What?” Y/N asked in anticipation.

“You know that black dog that Remus brings around whenever you’re sad?”

“Yeah…” Y/N raised an eyebrow. This was not where she expected it to go. 

“Well… it’s ME!”

Y/N spat out her drink. “The fuck you mean it’s you?”

“It’s literally me.”

“Shut up.”

Remus was laughing to the point of tears right now.

Sirius stood up, did a little twirl and transformed into the dog. Y/N fell out of her seat.

“WHAT? REMUS JOHN LUPIN, THIS WHOLE TIME THAT DOG YOU’VE BEEN BRINGING IS MOTHERFUCKIN JUST SIRIUS??? SIRIUS?!”

Remus nodded, unable to speak as he wiped the tears of laughter from his face.

“Hold on… SO THAT’S WHY THEY CALL YOU PADFOOT?” Y/N yelled at the dog. Remus let out a howl of laughter. Y/N was under so much shock that she didn’t even think of admitting that she herself was also an Animagus.

Sirius transformed back into human form and come up behind Y/N to hug her.

“I feel so betrayed what—“ Y/N laughed. “I let you sleep on my lap!”

“And you still can, darling.” Sirius winked.

Remus rolled his eyes. 

“What, jealous Moony? Get over here.”

Remus joined his friends on the floor and the three tangled themselves in some sort of three-way hug.

“Guys?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you guys.” Y/N said, voice muffed in their embrace.

“To friendship.”

“To friendship”.

+

Y/N found herself watching Sirius undo his long mane of hair and comb his fingers through the knots before he threw it back into an updo.

“Siri?” She hummed.

“Yes?”

“You have such nice hair.” She complimented him.

He blushed slightly. “Well, thank you lovely.”

He walked out of the kitchen. Remus, who was sitting across the table from Y/N, lifted an eyebrow. He put down his coffee mug and a mischievous smile came upon his lips.

“Dove…”

“Hmm?”

“Can you come here for a sec?” He asked, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs.

No need to ask twice for that. Y/N hopped up, and took a seat on Remus’ lap.

“What’s up?” She said, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Can I ask you something?” Remus said cheekily, tracing his thumb over the side of her hip. “Do you find Sirius attractive?”

That was not what Y/N was expecting to hear. She looked slightly taken aback. Her cheeks heat up. “He’s your best friend, Remmy!”

Remus shrugged. “I know. I just wanna know. I wouldn’t be offended you know, the opposite even.”

Y/N looked at him weirdly. Remus let out a shy chuckle. “I’ve never admitted this to you but… Sirius and I… we have in the past… occasionally…”

Y/N’s eyes widened.

“WHAT?”

That was even less of what Y/N expected to hear. “I’ve known you for a while now, and I’ve never heard of this!! What else have you not told me?”

“Just this, I promise.” Remus laughed, burying his head in her neck.

Y/N licked her teeth. “Damn. That’s kinda hot.”

“Really?” Remus lifted off her, reading her face for expression.

“Yeah…” Y/N said. She felt herself become shy. “And to answer your question, yeah Siri is cute. But you know you’re the love of my life, Remus.”

Remus smiled broadly. “I know. But it doesn’t mean we don’t get to have any fun, right?”

Y/N swallowed. She felt herself get aroused. And she knew that Remus would be able to smell it. It was a sense that had been permanently changed since his werewolf bite.

He did.

“You like the idea?” He whispered into her ear, hand sliding up between her thighs.

“Yes.” Y/N breathed, closing her eyes.

+

Y/N hummed to herself as she twirled around in her room in a bright red dress that she had just made herself. 

She heard the apartment door open and two pairs of footsteps walk in. It must be Remus with one of the other Marauders.

“Knock knock.” A voice said.

She looked up above her own reflection in the mirror. “Siri!”

Sirius came in and gave her a quick hug. “You’re the only one who calls me that.”

“It’s cute. Do you mind it?”

“No, not at all. What are you all dressed up for?”

“Oh, nothing. Just one of my latest boredom creations.”

Sirius hummed. “It looks nice.”

His gaze was respectful. It always was extremely respectful with Sirius and Y/N. He was like her gay best friend, except he wasn’t gay. At least not fully.

“Thanks.” Y/N smiled. “If I were to go out in this, how would I do my hair?” She pondered, going back to look at the mirror.

“Up. For sure.” Sirius answered.

Y/N gathered her hair up. “Like this?”

“Hmm. Yeah, but— may I?” He asked. She nodded and Sirius made his way to her.

He settled behind her and ran his fingers through her hair to gather it up in a ponytail. His fingers felt soft as they grazed her scalp.

“Like that.” Sirius said, holding the ponytail with one hand as his other came to rest on her bare shoulder. She felt her pulse in her neck dangerously close to where his hand was.

She looked at him in the mirror’s reflection. He met her gaze.

“Well, well, well, what fun are we up to here?”

Remus stepped in the room, jolting Y/N and Sirius apart. He let go of her hair and it came cascading down. 

“Hey!” Y/N whipped around to face him.

Although nothing really out of the ordinary had happened, the energy was different in the room.

“It feels like I’m interrupting something.” Remus chuckled, a hint of cheekiness in his voice.

“Course not.” Sirius said, plopping himself onto Y/N’s bed.

“I was just showing Pads my newest project.” Y/N gave a light twirl to show off the new dress. “You like?”

Remus licked his lips, stroking his chin. “Very beautiful.” Y/N grinned. From the side of his eye, he caught Sirius watching her too.

“Sirius, you like?”

Sirius broke off his gaze. “Hmm, wha- oh yes of course, our little bird’s quite the seamstress!”

Remus walked up to Y/N, greeting her with a hug. He leaned down placing a quick kiss on her lips. Y/N smiled through it.

She was about to pull away but Remus wrapped his arm around her waist. He slid his finger along her jaw and deepened the kiss.

Sirius looked away.

Y/N opened her eyes, giggling nervously. “Um, baby, Sirius is right there.” She whispered.

Remus opened his, glancing over at his friend on the bed. “Sirius, want to join?”

Both Y/N and Sirius looked at him, taken aback. They grew shy.

Sirius laughed it off, insinuating Remus played too much. But Remus didn’t drop the question.

“Listen, I don’t want to make any of you uncomfortable.” He began. “But… I do know for a fact that you two do find each other attractive.. and God knows it would be the hottest thing for me too. Maybe we can have a bit of fun?”

Y/N swallowed. She did not know what to feel except for a certain ache that began pooling between her legs.

“I- uh.” Sirius breathed. He ran his hand through his hair. He laughed, biting his lip. Y/N almost whimpered. “I’m down for anything if you are.”

Y/N let go of Remus. She nodded. Taking a hesitant step towards Sirius, she glanced back at Remus, who winked at her.

“Why don’t you climb onto his lap, dove, you love doing that.” Remus said, taking a seat in a nearby chair.

Sirius leaned back on his elbows, licking his lips as he watched Y/N climb onto him, a knee on either side of him.

“You’re such a pretty thing,” Sirius sighed.

“Could say the same about you,” Y/N responded as she ran her hands down his chest.

Sirius sat up, placing both of his hands on her hips.

“You can kiss her,” Remus grunted, thoroughly enjoying the sight of this.

Taking a deep breath in through their noses, Sirius and Y/N pressed their lips together. Letting out a moan, Sirius pulled her tighter against him, pressing her center to his.

Y/N cried out, the sound muffled by the kiss, as she wrapped her arms around Sirius’ neck and ground her hips under his hold.

“Merlin,” Sirius panted as the two pulled apart. “You’re exquisite. Can I touch you, sweetheart?”

Y/N nodded and Sirius brought both hands up, sliding up her ribs and coming to cup her breasts. He squeezed them, sending Y/N’s eyes rolling back.

“Such cute tits, oh I wanna see em,” he said, pulling the dress out of the way. He smiled when they were revealed to him, bringing his mouth to one of her nipples.

Remus loosened his tie from his corner, feeling hot.

“Isn’t she something?” He said, getting up and walking towards them. “I bet you’ve got Pads all hard and straining under there.”

Y/N grinned and nodded. “Let’s take care of that.”

She climbed off and Sirius undid his belt, pulling his pants off. Both Remus and Y/N kneeled down in front of him.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius swore again. It wasn’t even his birthday or Christmas.

He revealed himself. He indeed was already furiously hard.

“Gorgeous.”  Remus hummed. It had been a while. He placed a soft kiss on the head, licking over the slit.

Sirius hissed and squeezed his eyes closed. Y/N leaned forward, dragging her tongue down the base of his shaft as Remus sucked at the tip.

“Fucking hell!” He dared to look down, the sight of his best friend and his girl both sucking him off simultaneously enough to bring him closer over the edge.

He cradled both their heads with one hand, shaking and swearing until he finally came. Y/N wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “Wow”.

Remus smiled, catching his breath. His eyes darkened. He could smell Y/N. And she was sopping.

“You wanna taste Y/N, Padfoot? I promise you she’s got the prettiest fucking pussy you’ll ever see.”

“Hell yes.”

Y/N whimpered, squeezing her thighs together before switching places with Sirius. Remus climbed onto the bed behind her, pulling her dress off over her head. Her breasts were still pink from Sirius’ hands beforehand.

Sirius’ eyes trailed down to her stomach, to the navy cotton underwear that hugged her hips. She spread legs and revealed a wet spot that had soaked through. Sirius almost fainted.

“Aw baby, you’re this wet huh? Sirius teased. He brought a finger to the warm fabric, spreading it and pressing against her clit.

Y/N cried, throwing her head back and Remus was behind her to bear her weight. “Who got you this wet, huh dove?” Remus asked, looking at her panting face as she settled her back nicely into his chest.

“You. You two.”

Sirius removed his hand and replaced it with his tongue, licking along the wet spot and dampening it even further. 

“Oh fuck,” Y/N gasped, crumbling onto Remus. “Take them fucking off.”

Sirius slid her panties down her legs, her pussy so wet that it already dripped and stained the sheet beneath her.

“Open up darling, open up. Let Padfoot see.” 

He slid his tongue up her folds once and wasted no time brushing it over her clit, taking it between his lips and sucking it.

Remus ran his warm hands over her stomach, then brought them up to her chest. With the pressure of Sirius’ tongue on her clit and Remus’ hands on her breasts, she moaned in ecstasy and threw her head back on Remus’ shoulder.

She cried, a string of half-gibberish swears leaving her mouth. Remus’ hand came and caressed her throat, then he ran his fingers over her lips, parting them so she can suck on them.

“So fucking good.”

+

Present day. 1993, Hogwarts.

Y/N took a swig from her goblet of orange juice as she opened the Daily Prophet that was laying around on the teacher’s table in the Great Hall. The headline wrote: “Sirius Black, newly sighted near Hertfordshire”. She lay her goblet down and quickly turned the paper to another page.

She glanced over at her side. Remus was quietly enjoying his breakfast.

“Anything interesting?” He asked.

She shook her head. “Nah.”

#remus lupin x reader #charmed #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar smut #remus lupin smut #sirius black smut

[sombersynth]

Steddie Fanfiction Masterlist Rec

I've been reading steddie fics for a solid four days now, and I wanted to share my favorites with you all! Some of these are still being updated. I hope you enjoy!

Too Hot, Too Greedy by nikol_eyes, 8 k, mature. “King Harrington.” Eddie smirked, grabbing Steve’s hand and bending low once again, and if he’d had any more time to react Steve was sure he would’ve snatched his hand away on reflex. Instead, he felt the soft brush of Eddie’s lips against his skin, heard the raucous laughter that erupted from both Eddie and Robin, and felt his skin raise another few degrees in temperature.

There's a Clock in my Head (is it Wrong? Is it Right?) by Cloverspies, 15 k, teen. Ronance as well. In the relentless, revealing light of early morning, Robin took one look at Steve's dazed expression and said, "Oh my God. Holy shit. Did you—?" Steve stared at her. A moment later, a bright grin spread across his face. "Did you?"

Feel this Burning, Love of Mine by Judasofsuburbia, 15 k, explicit. Vecna is defeated. Steve Harrington stays in the hospital to be with Eddie Munson, despite everyone's confusion, including his own. After Eddie gets released, he has his first night terrors and immediately calls Steve for help. How can Steve resist?

Understood by Dykealert, 21 k, explicit. “You say you crave connection with people and then push us away when we try.” “Yeah, I guess I do.” Eddie hits rock bottom. Steve’s there too.

I Know The End (The End is Here) by Thrynn_Star, 24 k, mature. “Well if it isn’t Eddie Munson,” Steve drawls, swinging his car keys round his finger, offering Eddie a wink, “Bit early to be picking a movie. I haven’t even unlocked the door yet.” Eddie shuts the passenger side door of his own van, hoping he looks as confident as he tries to sound. “Not here for a movie, Harrington. Here for a job, if you’re still offering?" // Set after Vecna's demise (and written before Season 4 Vol.2 is released), Hawkins seems eager to move on, and eager to leave Eddie Munson behind. But when he gets a job at Family Video, Eddie discovers that with the help of some unlikely friendships, he can move on as well. And maybe, just maybe, he can be happy too.

We Survived (Together) by Plistommy, 1.7 k, explicit. ”I can’t lose you. Not you.” Steve confessed and Eddie swore his heart skipped a beat and soon, he was leaning down to catch Steve’s hungry mouth once more. He dropped his keys to the floor and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, careful not to hurt the other while Steve kept roaming his hands on his chest. ”Bedroom.” Was all Eddie said before he started to push Steve.

Steady As He Goes by Anonymous, 37 k, explicit. Steve and Eddie are under the misconception that they dislike each other.

Look After You by Stedieon, 32 k, explicit. He remembered screaming. He could excuse it as panic, the threat of the unknown piling on top of everything he’d already bore witness to over the past days. But really, Steve’s grim smile and 'no complaints' echoed in his head, and Eddie couldn’t help but feel like this should have been expected.

Ain't It a Gentle Sound by prettydizzeed, 10 k, explicit. So. There’d be no, like, veneer to it, sex with Steve; if Steve hurt him, it’d be with the transparent acknowledgment that that was the point, that Eddie wanted him to, no layers of setup or characterization to give any distance. Which is honestly so fucking vulnerable, in a way that’s hard to think about sometimes, but fuck if it doesn’t make Eddie’s toes curl.

So It Was Thought by SpiritedKaway, 35 k, mature. Eddie Munson was supposed to meet his end in a heroic death, Max was supposed to live, and they were supposed to defeat Vecna once and for all. He had played his heart out, and he was ready. He wouldn't run. Not this time. But when he woke up, and Eddie couldn't help but feel like he hadn't woken up in the afterlife. He should be dead. He was supposed to be dead. So it was thought, my friends. So it was thought. But Eddie — lives.

Anything Goes in the Winnebago by ChronicRabbit, 6 k, explicit. “Harrington’s got her. Don’tcha, Big boy?” That’s what Eddie had said to him with that huge shit-eating grin he always seemed to flash after one of his cheeky little jokes. Because it was a joke. There was no reason for Steve’s heart to thud in his chest like it was trying escape the prison of his ribs. He was so fucked.

The Edification of Steve Harrington by ChronicRabbit, 28 k, explicit. It had been two and a half months since the end of Spring Break. Eddie had been cleared of all charges, The Byers were back in Hawkins like they’d never left, Vecna was dead and gone, and everything was back to normal; or rather as back to normal as Hawkins could get. Unfortunately for one Steve Harrington, his new normal seemed to be not only his inability to get a date, but also his newfound proclivity towards staring at Eddie Munson’s mouth while he dramatically narrated during a five hour Hellfire session, or counting the freckles on the bridge of his nose, or memorizing the patterns in his honey coloured eyes. What the fuck was wrong with him?

The Affliction of the Feeling by Nondz, 27 k, explicit. “Hold on,” Robin interrupts. “Hold on, is this— are you, like. Do you know what masochism is?” “I know like I act like it sometimes, Robin, but I’m not actually fucking twelve,” Steve says. OR: Eddie has a black hanky in his back pocket.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fic rec #steddie fanfiction #steveddie #steveddie fic #my fic recs