#cash x beloved

[terrence-silver]

I'm feeling pretty blue today - what would CK Terry (or any TIG characters you feel like writing about!) to do earnest, sincerely cheer up someone they love?

I wish you lots of elation and happiness. Hope these help. ❤️

---

― When Jan Valek met beloved he already knew it'll be a moment he'll memorize and cherish for the rest of eternity. He already knew beloved will be something or someone that'll bring only true goodness into his life. He equates them to the light of the sun he and his kind were bereft of for centuries. He equates them with everything that's still noble, genuine, warm and sweet about humanity at large even though he doesn't view other mortals in the most of favorable light exactly. He has this incredibly exalted and romantic opinion of them, so, oh, the idea they'd ever feel blue about anything when he puts them all the way up there with the stars --- well, it strikes him. It is like witnessing a beautiful flower being sad about something; it cannot be conceivable because it isn't the flower's intended purpose in the grand scheme of creation. He's all affection and worship, collecting every tear from beloved's face with his lips and fingers, hugging them to himself with both hands and hiding them in his cape. He coos them. Caresses them. Hides them. Reminds them that in his infinite glory, God didn't create them for moments of sorrow. He's created them for joy. In fact, such is the depth of Jan's comfort and consolation of beloved that it telepathically revibrates through the entire coven and all his children feel it too. Beloved's not only loved, they're embraced. He remains with beloved instead of retreating underground when daytime returns, finding some dark, concealed place where he can hold them for as long as needed, time truly being meaningless to him. He could do this for decades if decades was what it took. Centuries, even, if need be. Ultimately, he waits it out with beloved and his arms around them don't unclasp until he literally senses their blood, scent and pheromones sing out with a change of mood before beloved themselves even realizes that they're no longer quite as upset as they were before.

― Terry McCain would downright willingly and tactically make a fool out of himself it meant beloved will simply...oh...you know...crack a smile for him? Why is that? Well, when you're a hardened, hot-headed Chicago Detective who has a tendency of taking things too far, to the point of utilizing excessive force during investigations and arrests, the sensitivity training doesn't really come all that naturally and so he counter-acts this by goofing around, in ways, even if that means getting beloved an adopted fuzzy pet out of the blue, enduring a scolding even when he doesn't give them space to breathe because he wants them to tell him what's wrong or waiting in front of their locked apartment door for hours when they want to be left alone, notwithstanding the fact he's also likely to just, you know, break in. He will be nosy. He will be invasive. He will employ his own professional deformation and investigate to get to the bottom of beloved's bad mood in the off chance they refuse to tell him, but one thing is absolutely certain; He will never, ever, ever leave them alone during this bad time, even risking being ridiculous and possibly overbearing doing so. Which means beloved can expect a takeover of their own life during the period of their depression. They wake up, they find McCain prepping up breakfast, wrapping his oversized coat or scarf around on a cold evening walk, tucking them in next to the fireplace and being fully domestic, threatening to knock some joker's teeth if the cause of their upset came from another person, or hey, he might just jokingly bring up doing so to deliberately appear like some dangerous wiseguy and hopefully amuse beloved through his antics. He'll try so many things that statically, something's very likely to just entertain beloved enough, even if begrudgingly, to have them snort through their nose with laughter at him faced with a funny anecdote from his First Communion.

― Gus Travis is paranoid and he is convinced beloved's current bad mood has something to do with him and taking it a step further than that, he gets this agitated impression that their depression is a prelude to an array of more serious underlining issues that remain yet unspoken; like them wanting to leave him or at least really seriously pondering it just about now. That they're deeply unhappy by his side and if he doesn't do something now to prevent it, history will only repeat itself and he'll lose someone he loves. Again. Would he really survive that crap twice? He doesn't think so. All the signs are there, after all, with his past bad experiences only further exacerbating the issue to the degree that depending of how blue beloved is feeling and for how long, Gus might just take it as far as really seriously telling them they should leave. Run away together. From this life. From his associates. From his gang. His syndicate. Sever all ties to them. Cut loose. Break out on their own. Turn a new page. Start a new life elsewhere. Far, far from here. Head out to sea on a boat if they have to. Not say anything to anyone. Pack up the basics. Hop in their car and go. Just go. Meaning that Gus Travis is genuinely probably willing to quite literally erase everyone and disappear if it could potentially bring contentment to beloved and ensure that they'll stay together. Just the two of them. Man could very well be halfway through the State of Washington on an escape spree before the conclusion might arrive that he did not, in fact, have to practically run away to make beloved happy. A kind word would've sufficed. Maybe a hug. But, Gus is a man of aggressive impulse, with an impassioned, streetwise nature to boot. His dryland mermaid is sad and he's expected to just...handle it in stride without shooting someone in the head? Yeah, no. Before anyone puts two and two together, Gus and beloved are too far gone to ever be found, headed somewhere that is bound to make them happy.

― Terry Silver does anything to cheer up someone he loves. And I do mean anything. Therein lies the danger of someone he cares for being even slightly upset or depressed, because he'd stop at nothing. There's no boundaries. Nothing is too ridiculous. No such thing as 'too far'. And no, I don't just mean throwing excess money and acts of service on a problem until it goes away --- I mean, he'd literally abuse someone to make beloved laugh. He'd hurt someone. He'd hurt whoever hurt them; whoever he feels fucked up their sunny disposition because trust and believe he's ready to have an enemy. Just point at one. If you don't, he's capable of inventing one himself. Throw an expensive car in the mix, sure, as a cherry on top of a cake. Does beloved want real estate? A company? A private island? Do they want him to buy out half of Los Angeles? Do they need a lavish vacation to fix their mood? An encouraging pep talk worthy of a Sensei? Should he knock someone's teeth out while they watch? Should he avenge them to remind them just how adored they are? Should he kill? Drag someone's bruised and beaten body and drop them off at beloved's feet as homage like a devoted blood hound would? Should he fuck beloved? Please, kiss, lick and work their body until their physique registers it as happiness? His mind will be working overtime --- the gears in his brain spinning and spinning and Terry will be likely to cheer himself up at the prospect of all the things he could do. He giggles and snickers as he plans. It is honestly just safer to tell this man what it is likely to make you content so he can go ahead and just do it for you because if his mind wonders too far in its deviousness, he'll do some pretty unhinged things in the hope it'll cheer beloved you up. But, point here is; he'd do just about anything, yes and beloved will probably never be as upset and in need of uplifting that will ever match the distance Terry Silver is willing to go to uplift them.

― Going to go out on a limb and saying Cash doesn't immediately know how to cheer up beloved or anyone as for that matter because this is simply not something he ever frequently does or has to do. His line of work or lifestyle doesn't exactly demand this of him --- in fact, even when he himself's in a gloomy mood, he merely fixes it with a quick beer and just shutting the heck up about it until it goes away. But, just because it is underexplored, new territory for him doesn't mean he doesn't care to the point he's thrown off of balance, pacing back and forth around the room, absolutely exasperated, an annoyed hand in his hair, feverishly thinking of what he should do, his mood sinking to dark depths right alongside beloved. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't talk. Doesn't do anything. He can't think straight. He's capable of spending days in front of beloved's room, just sitting there like a watchful warden in a state of limbo, waiting for a single word from them, a sign, a signal, a hint, anything that could indicate they're doing better now, and until he gets that, he might as well rot into the arm chair he's nestled into for all he's concerned. Cash takes whatever's going on very much to heart even though it isn't outright visible or easy to immediately tell at all times, but one order out of beloved's lips is enough to put him into action there and then without a single bit of protest out of him. If beloved said 'Rob a bank. It'll make me happy.' man outright would do just that entirely wordlessly. He'd be there getting his gun, gloves and mask ready, making the necessary phone calls, gone within the hour and already back home by the time they've woken up from their daily depression nap. He cares immensely. He doesn't always know how to express it or act on it, but even when beloved's in an infinitely better mood it'll be days and even weeks before Cash wholly recovers from whatever it was that bothered them, even if he doesn't really talk about it.

― Jack Blaylock, or rather, Timothy Calloway sits down and genuinely talks to beloved about it. Yes. Talks. Although never doubt this man too would be prepared to go to some truly harrowing lengths to merely see the slightest shadow of a smile on beloved's face, I get this impression he fixes them a warm beverage, makes them a lovely, intimate meal for two and tucks in by their side on a cozy, quiet evening instead, the lights of the city sparkling in the distance through the windows because civilian problems require civilian solutions and beloved's a civilian, first and foremost; so, he approaches their sadness in a way he knows they'll respond to best psychologically, not wishing to frighten them with promises of knives, blades, guns, murder, carnage, gore and all the things he'd do to anyone or anything that would ever make them sad or encroach on their happiness. He tells them anecdotes. Tales from his travels. All the places he's been. Seen. Spirituality. Past lives. How this is all unsolved karmic baggage and in few days time, it'll seem like a distant matter that'll only grow more foggy as time passes but that he's here, interconnected with beloved through countless past lives, feeling every bit of dejectedness they themselves might feel. He's here to face the fray with them because they're soulmates and that's what soulmates do. It is genuinely the most intense and eye-opening conversation beloved's ever had. One of those goddamn near live changing chats that seem a bit dream-like and slightly haunting and strange the next day but beloved truly does feel better afterwards because Jack will literally talk them out of their sour mood. Of course, has to be said that there's a disturbing factor to all of this because it is almost like Jack saw into beloved's soul and just about scraped off whatever was bothering them singlehandedly. Was there something in the coffee he's made them? Something in his general air and manner, how he knows to handle people? The sex they had afterwards? Beloved cannot tell, but they do feel infinitely better.

#terry silver #terry mccain #jan valek #cash #jack blaylock #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #terry mccain x reader #terry mccain x beloved #jan valek x reader #jan valek x beloved #jack blaylock x reader #jack blaylock x beloved #cash x reader #cash x beloved #excessive force #ulterior motives #kk3 #cobra kai #vampires #the kidnapping #black friday #black point #comfort #bad mood #sad

[30-3am]

sitting with rancher!james in his truck, driving around vail doing farm chores, and folsom prison blues comes on and he just goes HAM

thumping his palm on the steering wheel and tapping his big ass foot and singing with the best johnny cash impression he can muster

when he sings “i hang my head and cry” he drops his voice as low as it can go just to make you laugh

yes this is me coming out as a johnny cash enjoyer. summer’s coming fast up here and for me that’s classic country weather

JOHNNY CASH MY LOVE

this is one of the cutest things i've had in my inbox...you'd just be sitting there, giggling in the passenger seat while he sings at the top of his lungs, putting on an overexaggerated country accent. as soon as the intro starts, he's turning it up, expressing his love for the song. and telling you to sing along with him.

also, if it was the live version, he'd say the "hi, i'm johnny cash," bit at the start and be all cute and UGHHH

he also uses your hand as a microphone and you genuinely get worried he's gonna crash the truck. and as soon as the song is over (and it's over quick because it's way too short and needs to be longer) he's laughing and telling you how good he sounded.

"best johnny cash impression you've ever heard right, baby?"

"sure..." and you'd just be giggling, smiling wide as the engine hums and james chuckles to himself.

#alana's thoughts #metallica #james hetfield #james my beloved #metal #80s metal #heavnlyhetfield #alana's faves ♡ #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield fluff #rancher!james hetfield #i'm going to sob #i feel sick this is so cute #best way to get me going is mention johnny cash #i miss that man #legend that he is #anyways #fee thank you #this is the cutest thing #i #no #stop

[venompeach]

self insert stuff guh

#aren’t hasn’t been cash money but idc jamie my beloved #street fighter six #jamie siu #my persona #self insert #oc x canon

[ozzgin]

Sorry to bother you, but the bodyguard post you did was just 🤤🥰😍 and I can't stop thinking about it day later

Have you ever seen Oshi no Ko? I'd love to see Bodyguard react to someone trying to do something similar as what happened to Ai.

Fans get wind their beloved idol might have feeling for her staff, so a crazed fan tracks down her private address. He plans to get revenge for "His idol cheating on him" but doesn't know there is a guard dog inside ready to bite any threat to his precious charge.

Sorry to keep ragging on about the topic, I just adore you work enough that it lives in my head rent free.

Happy holidays

-🌟

I sadly haven't seen Oshi no Ko, but your description sounds very interesting. Thank you for the idea! I've combined it with your previous suggestion, I think they work together really well. Happy Holidays to you, too! :)

Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (II)

Your new manager has sent you home for the holidays after persistent rumors surrounding you and your bodyguard. And, as luck would have it, the fan responsible for the accusations successfully sneaks his way in. Sadly for him, you’ve never left the watchful gaze of your loyal, mean dog.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

TW: violence, threats, mentions of stalking

(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)

"Enjoy your holidays!" 

The driver cheerfully bids you goodbye and speeds away, leaving you behind the imposing gate. You drag your luggage inside and nonchalantly toss it with an annoyed huff.

What now? You're all alone in a hollow mansion. 

Early December you begun receiving worrying letters from a fan, making wild claims about you and your bodyguard. Naturally, you laughed it off. Your bodyguard found them equally amusing. So much, that he'd ask you to read them out loud as you rode him. "I w-won't stand for it. You know we ha-ave something special going on, (Y/N)-chan." You barely managed to form coherent sentences, feverishly clinging to the large man underneath you. "You heard the guy. Better be on your best behavior", he'd add with a chuckle, wiping the drool from your mouth. 

The new manager, however, wasn't as relaxed about it. He couldn't risk tarnishing the reputation of his beloved cash cow, so he suggested you take a break from personal assistants until the rumors tone down. If you remained within your expensively secured house, you wouldn't need any guarding. So, he caringly prescribed a dose of homely isolation for the upcoming holidays. 

"Don't be so dramatic", he said, "Jesus spent 40 days in the desert by himself. And he didn't have your indoor cinema or jacuzzi bathtub."

"Yeah, but he had the Devil to tempt him. Where's my bad guy?" You whined as a retort. 

You let out another groan and throw yourself on the couch, fiddling with the remote. Kind of them to decorate everything for Christmas, you think as you eye the gigantic kitsch of a tree slapped in the middle of the living room. 

Fuck. What an absolute waste of time. All because of one crazy fan. You almost wish he'd show his stupid face so your bodyguard could pummel it to bits and crumbles. You wonder what he's doing by himself. Is he going to be assigned to another idol? Probably not, two weeks is too short of a time for anything. You check your phone.

Suddenly, the screen lights up. A text notification. 

"Bored?"

Heh. It's almost as if he can read your mind. You smile to yourself and type your response, stretching onto the sofa. Your little back and forth messaging goes on until you look up and notice the room has gotten darker. Already evening. You can hear your stomach growl, so you get up and drag your feet towards the kitchen, searching for takeaway fliers. If you're going to be under house arrest, the least you can afford is junk food. 

Once you place your decadent order, you hop onto the counter and idly dangle your legs in anticipation. Your favorite off-duty guard dog has abruptly told you he needs to go and is now offline. "Something came up". What could possibly require his immediate attention? A mistress? You giggle at the idea. In all your time spent together, you haven't seen him glance at a single woman. If he must, he will engage with other people using one-word replies, visibly uninterested. You never considered him much of a talker, but his behavior with anyone else, in comparison, is downright hostile. 

There's a rustling sound and you jolt. Was the food delivered already? It hasn't been that long. You jump off the marble countertop and freeze in place once you see the man standing in the doorway. His face is concealed with a medical mask and he's audibly panting, the hot air fogging up his glasses. You notice the knife in his hand.

"How rude of you to cheat on me so shamelessly, (Y/N) dear."

Huh? Your eyes widen in realization. Was this the crazed fan bombarding you with threatening letters? Your features twist in utter disgust, still transfixed on the weapon within his grip. 

This little shit. Not only does he break into your home, but he decides to intimidate you with a department store kitchen utensil. Is that all you're worth? Is that any way to greet one of the top idols in this country?

You angrily pull the nearby drawer open and grab a long, sharp blade. The man tenses up and steps forward, but you stop him in his tracks, throwing the item at his feet. He stares at you, bewildered. 

"It's a Yoshihiro Sashimi knife. More than your monthly income, most likely." You state as you leer down at him, grimace plastered on your face. "Pick it up like the animal you are."

He cannot move. Is this his beloved (Y/N)? Her pretty, innocent smile and sparkling eyes have been replaced by this hateful scowl. He feels like a cockroach about to be stepped on, a mere vermin invading her personal space. This can't be right. It's him that should be upset, he's the betrayed party. When has she gotten so...Ah. This must be the work of that bodyguard. He's always known. The way he looks at her, with a predatory glint as if marking his territory. He should've noticed earlier. Poor, sweet (Y/N), at the hands of a brute. Tears form in his eyes and he opens his mouth to speak up, but a burning blow assaults his back and everything goes black. 

Your bodyguard casually walks in and lifts the intruder up by the nape of his neck. 

"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"

You blush and wipe your eyelashes dramatically, releasing a gentle sob from your puckered lips.

"Touch? He almost killed me! I was so scared...I thought I was done for."

He frowns at your words.

"I'll take care of it."

You can feel the familiar knot forming in your stomach. As he drags the body out of the kitchen, you follow behind enthusiastically. 

"Do it in the living room!" You almost squeal.

"Are you sure? It will get messy. I'm not letting this one walk out." He warns you with a worried expression. 

"Yes, yes!" you nod, all bubbly. "Right here, next to the Christmas tree."

Once the gory spectacle is over, the bodyguard sprawls onto the sofa, exhausted. He exhales loudly and runs a hand through his hair. You are about to join him, when a thought crosses your mind. 

"Now that I think about it, how did you know I was about to be attacked? That was some really extraordinary timing."

Out of reflex, he palms his pocket to check if his phone is still within his possession. Thankfully he hasn't left it in plain sight. You squint suspiciously. 

"Are you spying on me or something?"

He remains quiet for a few moments and eventually lowers his head apologetically, avoiding eye contact.

"Forgive me, Miss."

When he glances up again, your small figure is looming over him.

"Wow, what a pervert you are." You push his chin up with your dainty fingers. "How will you make it up to me for such nasty habit~?"

"Is there anything you want me to do?"

"Good boy."

#female reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere bodyguard #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #male yandere x reader #yandere original character #yandere oc

[queer-ffaerie]

On my: ‘I intensely dislike prequels’ bullshit again.

#oh my god x author is releasing a new book set in a beloved world!! #it’s a prequel #oh nvm #this isn’t about anything specific realllyyy #but I just really don’t like prequels #especially cash grab prequels #9/10 you just end up contradicting established canon or just making it confusing?? #this is such a petty grievance by the way #not like #serious media analysis

[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! ♡

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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

[squishycheekanon]

Your Sukuna fic was so fricking hot! Pls pls pls write for Nanami!!!!!

SugarDaddy!Nanami x reader

Warning: 18+, smut, slight degrading, praise, age gap.

The music and chatter downstairs was drowned out by the bed creaking with each roll of Nanami’s strong hips. The blonde man twice your age had ditched the party he was hosting, completely abandoning his rich friends all so he could take you upstairs and have his way with you.

The bedroom was a sight indeed, lit candles scattered around the room, rose petals on the floor, and a pile of cash spread aimlessly across the king sized bed. A testament to Nanami’s comment about a week ago when you’d asked him exactly how much money he makes, “Enough to fuck you on.” Was his reply.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, it was all too much. How were you supposed to cope when Nanami was absolutely destroying your poor pussy. And you were doing so well in trying to be quiet at the start of this, something Nanami wasn’t having at all.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ll make it so you can’t.” He smiled tantalisingly, removing himself from you and heading to your closet before coming back with one of the many vibrators he’d bought you.

Your beloved sugar daddy slipped it inside your clenching cunt, pressing the on button on the remote. You became a moaning and whimpering mess even before he’d slipped back inside you groaning at your tightening pussy.

“Dumb little bunny, all you know how to do is spend my money and take my cock.” your hole stretching around him in a way that made him look at you with an animalistic grin.

He watched you ravenously, your lips parted and wet and fuck he wanted in. His mouth crashing onto yours sinfully pushing his tongue in, licking into your mouth. Nanami’s large hand coming up to grip your jaw potently, it leaves you breathless just like the kiss.

He groaned his head thrown back in the throes of passion, sweat trickling down his thick skin, blonde hair slicked back with little strands falling over his brown eyes. He was fucking perfect, in his own world of desire the deeper he fucked you and all he could manage to say was, “Fuck that’s it bunny.”

Pleasure burns through you, it’s hot and almost hurts as he thrusts deeper each time, it makes you moan, wanton, crude, dirty. He’s hitting that rough patch so deep in your cunt, striking it viciously, desperately until your body becomes ridged and even you don’t recognise the sounds that slip out of your mouth.

His large arms enclose around your waist, one hand toying with your hard nipple, fucking you through your high until you’re completely spent.

You’re catching your breath when your gorgeously large man says, “That’s one bunny.” he chuckles deep and heavy, the sound spreads across your sweet glazed skin, a shiver racking through your exhausted form. There was more to come, he was going to pull as many orgasms as he could out of your helpless body and when you can’t take anymore, he’ll tell you that you can. Because he knows you can.

#jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami fluff #nanami x y/n #nanami x oc #nanami x me #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #squishycheekanon #squishycheekanonanswer #asks are appreciated #squishtalks #squishysneekpeaks #squishyreblogs #jjk fanart #SugarDaddy!Nanami #SugarDaddy x reader #sweet asks #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #jjk x oc #jjk x plus size reader

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

hi i love your work a lot i've been reading it a lot during this difficult blood moon time. i have a request if you don't mind tackling it!! this is gonna be very specific, but yandere! stalker x reader, BUT the yandere is not stalking reader -- the yandere is stalking a popular girl the reader knows in passing, and reader figures "well, i could use some extra cash", so reader approaches stalker and offers to sell phone numbers of popular girl, hangs out with stalker, and unintentionally ends up becoming the new target of stalker. surprised pikachu face on reader's end that her plan has backfired. bonus points if popular girl that same morning is like "i think stalker guy has finally stopped following me" before the reveal. thank you for reading :)

Based on your post, Imma assume she/her pronouns for our darling (you know what, I relate, gimme the money lmaoooo)

(Reader) slammed her hand down onto the cafe's table, startling the nervous looking man hiding behind his long, shaggy hair. He had been so focused on staring at Jenny (❤️), the angel of campus, and his unrequited love (of three months). Axle fumbled with his camera, nearly dropping it on the floor as he scurried to hide it in his lap.

"Um.. hi?" His exhausted eyes darted around the coffee shop, too nervous to look directly at the woman standing above him. "May I help you?"

"So you're Jenny's stalker." (Reader) smiled coyly, pulling a chair closer towards Axle so she could sit uncomfortably close to him.

His pasty skin flushed deep maroon, sweating under the harsh accusation . "No, you're wrong, I-I'm not-"

The poor hooded man was cut off by (Reader) grabbing his camera, too horrified by the situation to make a scene in the packed area. (Reader) flipped through the pictures, her smile fading as her eyebrows knit into a disappointed scowl.

"Damn, these pictures... suuuuck."

Axle was shocked, not expecting that response. "What?" His face went slack like a fish, unable to compute the young woman's critique.

"They're all... blurry. And, off center? Out of focus..." She handed back his camera, now with a look of mild pity. "Dude.."

With shaky hands, Axle yanked the camera back, not knowing if he should still be scared that he was caught, or offended.

"When Jenny was talking about how nervous she felt, having a stalker, I thought.. I thought you would be different." (Reader) cupped her chin in her hands, leaning in further, forcing Axle to lean awkwardly to the side, away from the strange woman. She seemed to be debating something, carefully contemplating her next steps. "Are you going to kill her?"

Axle gasped, mortified. "No! No, I would never!" He denied, a little louder than he had meant to. Axle sat stiff, fiddling with his camera. "I just.. really like her." A cute little blush dusted his cheeks, making (Reader) pray she wasn't being a fool.

She slipped a hand into her jacket pocket, and pulled out a picture of Jenny, one not from her social media. Axle grabbed it, admiring how the sunlight looked like a halo illuminating Jenny's hair. "Where did you get this?" Axle asked, full of awe as he stroked the image.

"I took it." (Reader) replied smugly. "Do you want it?"

Axle nodded, unable to pry his eyes away from the image. (Reader) pulled the picture back out of his hands, watching him whimper with a cold, unamused expression on her face.

"Twenty bucks."

"Huh?"

"Twenty bucks, and this is yours." (Reader) sat back in her seat like a mob boss, legs spread wide and head cocked to the side.

Axle yanked his wallet out, and fished out a twenty, absolutely giddy over receiving such a wonderful picture of his beloved.

"Pleasure making business." (Reader) smiled, pleased with how easy it was to trap Axle in her web. "Of course, with how awful you are at stalking, will you be okay with just that little picture?"

The young man froze. Of course, she was right. He was clumsy and skittish, often getting noticed while following Jenny, getting chased by campus police. Even the pictures he took of her were rubbish. "What do you mean?" Axle asked only to be sure he wasn't misunderstanding the situation.

"I'll help you out. I'll continue taking pictures for you, get you private information on Jenny, whatever you want. And you pay me."

He smiled oddly. "Pay? What you're doing is a crime, and you're fine with that?"

(Reader) grinned back childishly. "As long as you pay me."

Despite how uncomfortable Axle was with the strange young woman who hadn't even introduced herself, he couldn't pass up this opportunity.

~ 1 week later ~

Axle waited behind a dumpster, not quite sure how X had gotten his phone number. He still hadn't learned the mystery woman's name, only that she was eccentric, and possibly watched too many crime thrillers. (Reader) had told him to call her X, thinking it best that he didn't know her true identity.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when (Reader) popped up behind him. "You got the cash?" Axle squeaked, grabbing his heart.

"You scared me!" Axle stuttered out, looking better than he had the first time they met. His hair was no longer greasy, and the bags under his eyes had lightened up.

'Looks like he's had more time to take care of himself, now that I'm doing the dirty work for him.' (Reader) thought, staring daggers at Axle. He became flustered under her gaze, shifting anxiously.

"What are you looking at?"

"Just wondering why you're stalking Jenny in the first place." Axle pouted, thinking that maybe this was just a set up to bully him. "You're actually pretty handsome when you've showered."

"Huh?"

"Like, conventionally speaking, by societal standards, you are attractive. Maybe stop slouching and find a better jacket? But yeah, pretty sure if you took care of yourself and just approached Jenny like a normal human being she would have liked you."

His ears became warm at (Reader's) words, trying not to smile at the image of Jenny calling him handsome.

"But, better for me that you're a weirdo." (Reader) smiled playfully, holding out a manila envelope full of pictures she had printed out. "Money!" She said it like a question, empty hand opened expectantly.

Axle grumbled, plopping a wad of cash into her hand as he grabbed the envelope, heart palpitating as he saw more exquisite pictures of Jenny. Each one was amazing, with a sense of professionalism in their quality.

"These are incredible."

"Yeah, yeah. She's, like, super hot, I know." (Reader) absentmindedly responded while counting her earnings.

"I meant the pictures, dick."

(Reader) then did something unexpectedly, she stopped counting, and it looked like a little blush bloomed ever so faintly, genuinely surprised by the compliment. "Oh. Uh, thanks."

Axle noticed the way her back went rigid and the way she averted her eyes. It was.. kinda cute. His brain short circuited. Did I just think she's cute?

~ 2 weeks later ~

Axle's door knocked insistently, rousing him from his slumber. No one ever visited his apartment, not even his parents, so Axle was suspicious of who it could be. "I'm coming!"

He unlocked the door to find X, standing their with a shit eating grin on her face. "I never want to hear you say that again."

(Reader) brushed past the blushing mess, barging into his dark and creepy apartment. "How - why - how??" Axle was almost on the verge of tears, zipping around his apartment faster than the Flash to try and clean up, scooping up arms full of dirty underpants and pizza boxes, and just throwing them into a closet.

"Because I'm actually good at my job, that's how." She smiled triumphantly, flopping onto his bed while taking off her bag. "You know, it was really easy making friends with Jenny. She's so sweet.. it makes me feel a little guilty." (Reader) faked a sniffle, pretending to be torn up. "Maybe we should end this.."

"What? No!" Axle panicked, immediately regretting acting like a fool, as "X" removed her hands from her face, revealing dry eyes and a sarcastic smirk.

"Maybe I'll stay.. if you give me a raise."

Axle looked shocked, like he had actually believed (Reader). It was cute. "Fine.. whatever." He groaned, still standing with his arms cross.

"Aren't you going to sit down? I've got some things to show ya." (Reader) patted the bed.

"No!" Axle replied way too quickly, embarrassed about sitting with a girl in his bed. "I mean.. I'm fine standing." He rubbed his neck, avoiding eye contact as usual.

"You know, I know I'm not Jenny levels of hot, but it hurts that you never even look at me." (Reader) deadpanned, pulling out a pad of paper from her backpack, along with another envelope of pictures. "In this little notebook I have Jenny's phone number, her mom's phone number, her dad's phone number, I have her dorm address, I have her family's home address, I have the contact info for her past three exes, and I also wrote down some stuff I learned from talking to her, like the kind of guy she likes, her favorite food, her allergies, a bunch of stuff."

Axle was shocked, and kind of startled, by how thorough (Reader) was. He enjoyed following Jenny between classes, making sure she got where she needed to go, and yeah he liked climbing up the side of the dormitory to try and watch her sleeping, but this was beyond anything he ever could have hoped for.

"Wow. Maybe you do deserve that raise." He opened the envelope, ignoring (Reader) as she bragged about how she got all that information, overwhelmed yet again by (Reader's) photography skills. "Have you ever thought about becoming a photographer?"

(Reader) paused her rambling, nervously shifting her gaze away. Axle was beginning to suspect that she didn't receive compliments all that often, which was a shame, because she certainly was talented. Axle felt his heart thump heavily again.

"I, uh, never thought about it.." (Reader) lied. "Why, you think I should?"

Why did she look so cute right now, nervously asking a creep who was paying her to stalk someone if he approved of her talents?

As he was about to answer, he found a selfie of Jenny and (Reader) together. "What's this?"

"Oh, sorry that wasn't supposed to be in there. Jenny saw my camera and asked if we could take a pic together." (Reader) made a move to grab it, but Axle held it up out of her reach. Strangely, he realized that he had never seen the two side by side, and for some reason in the picture of the two of them together Ms. X was way cuter.

"I'll keep this one too."

"Huh? Why?"

"I like it."

~ 1 month later ~

Axle stared into the bright blue light of his laptop, looking at (Reader's) face. It was difficult to find her, as she didn't have much of a social media presence, and Axle didn't know her name, but he finally found her. He kept telling himself that he was just curious in what kind of lunatic agreed to work as a professional stalker, and why the hell was she so good at it? But as he lost track of time staring at the terrible family photos her mother posted online, he started to question why he never seemed to notice her before.

It felt even worse, since she noticed him.

The pictures she took were all neatly packed in a drawer except for the selfie she took with Jenny. Axle kept arguing with himself, insisting that that was simply the best picture of Jenny by far. But he knew deep down it wasn't the truth.

He had started to lose sleep again, trying to dig up information on his partner on crime. Partners in crime. Axle smacked himself in the head, pulling his hoodie down over his mop of hair. Unfortunately, he was a college student, and had classes to attend.

Out in the corridor, he heard the most wonderful sound in the world. (Reader's) maniacal laughter. Even when out with normal people, (Reader) didn't mask who she was. She was walking with a group of popular students, all cracking up over something one of them had said, and Axle was jealous.

(Reader) looked so natural with that crowd, hanging out like she wasn't a loser like him, glowing so brightly that Axle didn't see Jenny right away. He knew (Reader) said that she had "infiltrated their ranks" in order to learn more about Jenny for him, but it was still incredible to see. Axle wondered if he would look just as natural by their side, after all, (Reader) had said that Axle was "handsome". He suddenly became self conscious, regretting not showering before he left his apartment. When was the last time he washed this coat? Why hadn't he bought a new one when (Reader) suggested it?

It was almost like he had to remind himself to look at Jenny. She didn't look as angelic as he remembered.

~ 2 months later ~

"What made you like Jenny?" (Reader) asked, scrolling on her phone while lounging on Axle's bed. Axle was watching (Reader) while pretending to look at the pictures she had taken. She was so exposed, lying there as though this was just a friend's place, not a man's bed. Axle tried not to feel excitement seeing (Reader) so comfortable in his presence.

"I'm, um, not sure." And that was the truth. Why did he like Jenny? The way she smiled? Was it simply how beautiful she was?

The more he grew to know (Reader) as a person, the more beautiful he found her to be. Jenny paled in comparison to (Reader).

It was too embarrassing to tell (Reader) the truth, that the woman he loved so much that he couldn't stop thinking about her 24/7, now simply didn't interest him. Not like (Reader) did. If I take a picture of her, would she hate me?

"You should take more selfies." Axle stated, out of the blue.

"Why?" (Reader) snorted.

"Because you're pretty.." He blushed softly, smiling at the picture of (Reader) he kept on his desk.

~ 4 months later ~

(Reader) smiled wide eyed, almost unable to contain her surprise. "What?"

"Yeah, he's just, disappeared." Jenny took a sip from her coffee, confused but not complaining. "I haven't noticed that creepy fuck following me around, like, at all lately."

Many thoughts passed through (Reader's) mind like rapid fire. Was everything okay with Axle? Did he lose interest in his beloved? And if he did, was she no longer going to get paid?!

(Reader) ran to Axle's apartment as soon as the coast was clear. Partially worried for his well being, mostly worried for her pay check.

She didn't bother knocking, instead throwing open the door like she owned the place. Axle stood in the middle of his room, confused, and pink in the face. He had a fresh hair cut, showing off his dark eyes, and he had a new outfit on, one that fit him better than his oversized stained hoodie. "(Reader)? What are you doing here?"

"I was just-" she stuttered, blushing violently. He was incredibly attractive, towering over her now that he was standing with better posture. "Wait, how did you know my name?!"

An ominous feeling crept over her, as she thought about how many times she laid in his bed, not knowing that he was falling out of love with his target. He smiled sweetly at (Reader), behind him was a new camera he had bought for her, as a gift. Axle had meant to propose a new deal with (Reader), requesting pictures of her instead, but she had caught him dressing up in the clothes he bought to impress her. He pulled her into his room.

(Reader) only noticed the pictures of her scattered across the floor as Axle locked the door.

#yandere #yandere stalker #yandere stalker x reader #fem reader #college aged reader #tw stalking #thanks for the ask! #writing requests #i hope you like it #not proofread #bad writing

[astairo]

The Baker and the Chocolatier

Wonka(2023) x Reader

Warnings: fluff, tiny angst

Y/n L/n was one for sweets and pastries. Her beloved goods were too irresistible to a mouth. She would bake day and night, day after day, if she could. She was beloved by many, with hundreds lining up to greet her a good day at the counter as they asked for a good or two.

Therefore, Y/n was happy. Almost.

Despite being the beloved baker, she longed for a different love, a love her lousy husband failed to give. She wanted to feel her heart pound and flutter, to feel the butterflies erupt and conquer her stomach, to feel the adrenaline rush of a hand in hers.

She wanted that love like no other.

It was rare for Y/n to get quiet days. It was so quiet that you could hear the soft breeze through the windows of the empty bakery. Y/n was enjoying the silence when a man in a ridiculous magenta coat and old-looking hat walked through the doors.

“Bonjour!” Y/n smiled at him. “Anything particularly in mind yet, sir?” she spoke as she gestured to the display of European goods. The man smiled and nodded, “A croissant and a hot chocolate, please!” Y/n nodded and got to work. “I haven’t seen you before,” she spoke as she prepared his hot beverage, “You must be new, then.”

The man chuckled in response, “I guess you can say that, but I don’t plan on staying long.” Y/n frowned, “Why not? It’s a lovely town.” It was true; the town had the loveliest people you’d meet.

The man chuckled again, “You see, I’m somewhat of a magician, inventor, and chocolate maker.” he boasted, “Which leads me to believe a person like me belongs within the streets of Gallery Gourmet.”

Y/n chuckled and shook her head, “What big ambitions you have,” she placed his order on the counter, “But it’s not as easy as you think it is, either.” The man quirked a brow at her statement, “You don’t think I can do it?” Y/n quickly responded, “I’m sure you can, just not as easy as you make it seem.” she spoke, taking the cash he had handed her and stuffing it into the register.

The man leaned in, intrigued by her words, “Paint me a picture.” Y/n sighed, looking him dead seriously, “You want to sell chocolate, right?” The man nodded, “In simplest terms, please.”

Y/n chuckled, “You can’t get a shop if you don’t sell chocolate, and you can’t sell chocolate without a shop.” The man frowned, “Then how would I get the shop and sell chocolates?”

Y/n smiled, his change in her hand, “Hard work and dedication; be persistent.” The man nodded in appreciation before smiling, “Keep the change.” She smiled, "Thank you, sir.” He flashed her a grin as he picked up his order and left.

Y/n was sure that that was the last time she'd ever see the man until one night, only a few days later.

Y/n was finishing up behind the counter when the door opened. “We’re closed.” She stopped when she heard the familiar chuckle, looking to see the man again. “I’m not here for your pastries.” he smiled, “I’m here to ask you a question.”

Y/n nodded and leaned onto the counter patiently. The man sighed and looked at her, “I want you to come to Gallery Gourmet with me.” Y/n’s eyes widened at his sudden request. “Gallery Gourmet with you?” she stood perplexed. The man nodded in desperation, “Yes, please.” She chuckled nervously, running a hand through her hair, “I barely know you.”

The man removed his hat, bowing dramatically, “Willy, Willy Wonka.” Y/n giggled and curtsied, “Y/n L/n.” Willy grinned and kissed her hand, “Pleased to meet you, Y/n.” He stood straight and adjusted his coat, “So what do you say? Will you accompany me to Gallery Gourmet?”

Y/n couldn’t shake off the lingering feeling on her hand. The adrenaline pumped through her veins as her heart pounded against her chest, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She blushed for the first time.

“Y/n?” Willy snapped his fingers in front of her face, pulling her from the daze. He looked at her for her answer. Y/n took a breath.

“I’ll think about it.”

—

Part II

Please participate in this poll 💖 it’ll help me know what to do with this story.

#timothee chalamet fanfiction #chalamet #timothee #timothee x reader #willy wonka #willy wonka x reader #wonka 2023

[jinwoosungs]

{ 140 }

love letter of flowers.

jinwoo sung x florist.fem!reader

lately, there has been a handsome young man who frequented at your flower shop.

he was well dressed, always appearing within the cozy confines of your quaint little shop while in a pristine suit. with his ebony locks of hair falling across his features in gentle waves coupled along with grey eyes that seemed to shine beneath the sunlight, perfectly mirroring his emotions...

you found that you couldn't look away from him, even if you tried.

he had been visiting your shop daily for roughly a month now, with him buying the most extravagant of bouquets for someone you assumed that he loved a great deal. for some odd reason, just the thought of him already having a lover made your chest ache.

despite the bouquets he had purchased being chosen and crafted by your own loving touch, it made you yearn for a type of love this man and his beloved had. truly, the he had to be absolutely crazy about his girlfriend to buy her such gorgeous bouquets every single day.

as you were caught up in your reveries, you find yourself breaking out of your daydreams when the sounds of chiming bells alerts you to an incoming customer. as you trail your eyes toward the entrance, you felt your heart skip beats once more, seeing him again-

sung jinwoo.

he greets you with a kind smile before looking over at your collection of bouquets. curious as to what he was going to choose, you steadily head over to your cash register and keep sneaking glances at him.

after a few minutes of consideration, he chooses the bouquet he was going to gift, which had to be the most expensive one yet: a rainbow bouquet of roses consisting of bright petals shaded in a variety of colors.

your throat seems to close up in response to this man's dedication, ringing up the bouquet while tying a neat bow against its cellophane wrapping.

"your girlfriend must be lucky to have you." you find yourself telling him casually, trying to hide those stupid emotions that were felt bubbling within your chest.

"excuse me?"

hearing the absolute confusion within his voice makes you freeze and do a double take. gathering your courage, you look back up at him with a tilt of your head.

"you come in here every day to buy a bouquet... isn't it for your lover?"

after hearing your explanation, you felt your cheeks turn hotter in response to the sounds of his laughter. your assumptions seemed incredibly amusing to him, as he spent the next several minutes laughing all while trying to catch his breath.

"hahaha, y-you're so funny, haha..." you watch as jinwoo wipes the tears from his eyes, finally calming down before confessing to you.

"all of these bouquets are gifts for my mom... she..." he trails off, appearing shy all of a sudden as he rubs the back of his neck with a hand. "she was a victim to the eternal sleep disease, and she woke up not too long ago. i didn't want to take her for granted anymore, so i decided to spoil her whenever i could now that she's awake and well."

a sense of guilt was felt coursing through you, and you felt incredibly selfish for actually feeling envious over this whole ordeal. this man standing before you was not only incredibly beautiful on the outside-

but perhaps more so than that was the beauty he held on the inside, with you knowing that he had an unconditional kindness settled deep within his heart and soul.

as if he could read your thoughts, jinwoo gives you a lazy grin. "was there a reason why you brought this up?"

"n-no! no reason at all!" you take his debit card then and insert it into your card reader, taking his payment for the bouquet that had always been meant for his mother. you really hoped that jinwoo didn't catch on, or had any suspicions to your words-

but something about the look in his eyes made you think that he had probably known all along.

wanting to do something to make up for your asinine assumptions, you call out to jinwoo just as he held the newly purchased and precious bouquet within his arms.

"if you could wait a moment, sir, i- i have something for you."

jinwoo stops walking and gives you a gentle nod. as you go back to the aisles of your shop, your eyes finally land on the single bloom that you had been looking for:

a red carnation, to convey how much i admire him.

holding the red carnation gingerly within your hand, you tie a slender white ribbon over its stem before giving it to jinwoo.

"here, this one is on the house, just for... you know, your daily visits, and the fact that you're sweet enough to buy a bouquet for your mother every single day and all."

were your eyes playing tricks on you, or was it due to the lighting of your shop? because you swore you saw jinwoo's pale cheeks take on an almost rosier hue the moment he accepts your carnation.

"t-thank you. i'm not doing much, but i do want to make my mother happy."

giving him a nod, you wave goodbye to him the moment he leaves your store, letting out a dreamy sigh as you kept your gaze on him, never once straying away from him until the moment you could no longer see his retreating back.

{ ... }

it wasn't until much later that you realized just who sung jinwoo truly was-

and such realization came in the form of his supposed fans waiting for him to arrive to your flower shop as they seemed to linger outside of its periphery.

in fact, even jinwoo himself was caught off guard by those people who considered themselves a huge part of his fanbase. he seemed hesitant, and although the voices sounded muffled, you could hear bits and pieces of the conversation as you understood the gist of what was going on.

those people were absolutely smitten with jinwoo.

deciding to do a quick search of his name, you figured that he would be some minor celebrity due to some charity work he had done (because even the heavens know that the man has the heart to do so!)

so when his name popped up, and you saw his title as being yet another s-rank hunter within korea, you felt your mind go dizzy in response.

this explained how jinwoo was able to afford purchasing a new bouquet for his mother every day, with his card never seeming to decline. in fact, s-rank hunters were practically considered celebrities here-

and you felt your courage in admitting your feelings for him shrivel up in response to this newfound fact.

because you knew that you would never be able to bask in the same world as him, being labeled as a mere civilian who had no special abilities that could even survive the gates that would randomly appear, let alone fight in them.

so you continue watching the fans as they surround jinwoo with a sigh, yet, it seemed as though their interactions had taken on a bit of a stranger tone. jinwoo kept his hands upright, shaking his head at every phone and notebook that was pointed at him. he keeps gesturing at you and says a few words to them.

and oh, if you only knew that you were most likely going to have one of the busiest days of your life.

immediately, his haul of fans rush into your shop, taking bouquets and singular flowers alike as they lined up to purchase what you had to offer. despite how overwhelming the sudden influx of customers were, you were able to accurately sell the bouquets and flowers jinwoo's fans had purchased.

this went on for a few hours, and once the last of your customers had left, you were left looking at how your sales had practically doubled thanks to jinwoo. by the end of it all, your hair was left in a bit of a mess, with those loose strands falling out of your ponytail.

as you were trying to catch your breath, you hear the sounds of jinwoo's rich chuckles as he slides up towards your counter, this time with a simple bouquet of white lilies in his hand. you give him a look of suspicion, your chest practically heaving up and down in tune with your labored breaths when you shakily ask, "w-what did you do?"

a wide grin paints his handsome features as he lets out a hum while saying your name. "i don't know what you're talking about."

you purposely arch an eyebrow at him in response. "you're telling me that you had nothing to do with the sudden influx of people that nearly purchased my entire stock?"

jinwoo scratches at the tip of his nose in response, completely amused by the feign accusation in your voice. "well... i may have told them that i wouldn't take a selfie with them, or sign their notebooks if they didn't buy at least one item from your shop."

a sudden warmth was felt spreading across your chest when you ask with a bit of a tremor in your voice, "isn't that... kind of illegal?"

he hums and shakes his head, "i don't think so. after all, they were all loitering in front of your shop waiting for me... and i couldn't allow them to cause such an inconvenience to you without doing something about it."

"after all..." he suddenly leans closer to you, with his hands softly brushing back your hair as you felt your heart skipping beats in response when he tells you, "it was all my fault... they came here waiting for me, so... i took advantage of the situation to help you out, instead."

you were left speechless, unable to say a word when jinwoo hands you his debit card once more. as usual, you ring up the card and wrap another ribbon around the bouquet, and this time, you already had in mind what flower you wished to give him as a simple gift.

a pale pink ranunculus, as proof of how much i am enchanted by the sheer radiance of him.

you find the perfect bloom still settled amidst its sisters, happy that your patrons hadn't touched such a uniquely beautiful yet simple flower. giving him a shy smile, you place the pastel pink bloom on top of his bouquet of white lilies, basking in his smile.

he gives you another wave goodbye, promising to see you again the next day as you found your heart racing with anticipation.

when he leaves was when you allow your smile to disappear, turning solemn as you thought about how slim of a chance you had with him. despite how you knew that your heart was turning soft with feelings of love for him, you didn't wish to acknowledge such emotions-

because someone as bright and brilliant like jinwoo would never even spare you a second glance.

yet despite how deep down you knew you would never be able to admit your feelings for him, that didn't mean that you would stop conveying them to him-

after all, the least you could do was give him a love letter of flowers each time he came by.

{ ... }

jinwoo couldn't bring himself to allow the single flowers you had given him to die out. using his own hidden abilities as the shadow monarch, he manages to keep them in perfect condition, placing each colorful bloom within a large vase that was filled with water colored a gentle, violet hue.

he keeps such flowers separate from the extravagant bouquets he gives his mom, not even telling her or jinah of their existence. ever since he came across the beautiful woman's quaint little flower shop, he was quite enamored with her.

he would never admit such a thing to those closest to him, but he actually had a silly, ulterior motive to buying bouquets for his mother every day-

and that was to see you again, the beautiful florist who managed to capture his heart with your kindness and curious gaze.

with sigh, he spends the next hour or so simply admiring the single blooms you had given him, allowing his hand to gently caress at each petal, imagining the feel of your lips being just as soft.

"my king, if i could please have your attention."

jinwoo trails his gaze over to igris, one of his most loyal and trusted soldiers. he blinks at the former blood-red commander and gives him a nod, "what is it, igris?"

igris clears his throat while reading a book that had a picture of flowers on them. "may i ask what flowers your beloved has given you?"

"w-what- she's not my-"

"i apologize for the bluntness of my words, my king, but i must know. will you tell them to me?"

jinwoo sighs and carefully takes the precious flowers out of the vase while placing them on his desk.

a red carnation-

pink ranunculus-

pale pink carnation-

red chrysanthemum-

purple tulip-

a pink bluebell.

a deep chuckle was heard from igris as his chest seemed to puff out with pride.

"my king, if you look at the marked pages of this book of flowers and their meanings, you will come to realize that such blooms were were meant to signify that woman's love and devotion to you."

his eyes became wider, and the young hunter could feel his heart pounding from within his throat as igris places the book into his hands. sure enough, as jinwoo read the pages, he was able to piece together the hidden meaning from within each flower.

a red carnation for a deep admiration,

pink ranunculus as proof of someone's enchantment,

pale pink carnation for a new love

red chrysanthemum for a passionate love

purple tulip for a perfect love,

and a pink bluebell, to signify an everlasting love-

jinwoo quickly looks at the time before closing his eyes, searching through the consciousness of one of the soldiers he had placed with you as he saw you locking up your shop while standing on the sidewalk.

"exchange."

before igris would even utter a word, beru was left settled at the desk where his king once sat. the former ant king gives his colleague a look of confusion from suddenly reappearing within his king's room, causing igris to simply shrug in response.

"it seems as though our king has been caught up in the throes of love. we should let him be and wait for his return... with his queen."

{ ... }

you felt a sudden shift in the air the moment you left your shop, shivering slightly when you turn around and was met with the sudden appearance of jinwoo himself.

"wha- jinwoo?!"

he seemed unfazed by the look of panic in your eyes, dressed casually in a white t-shirt and sweatpants. you saw that he now wore simple converses as he takes casual steps closer to you.

upon closer inspection, jinwoo seemed to be blushing, becoming so prominent as even the tip of his ears was flushed as well.

"how did you get here... were you always here?"

jinwoo swallows thickly, running a hand through his hair before letting out a sigh, "you could say that... but, that's not what i'm here for."

before you could ask him what he meant, he goes straight into it while telling you, "those flowers you had given me these past couple of days- you know, as little 'gifts?' yeah, i...i finally know what they all mean."

you froze completely when he mentioned the free flowers you had given him and how he knew their meaning. moving your hands up and down your arms to stave off the sudden chill you felt, you act completely oblivious. "w-what? i don't know what you're talking about. i mean, those were j-just pretty and cute flowers that i gifted for you!"

"a deep admiration..." jinwoo begins to speak in a bit of a trance, "feeling enchanted by me; a new, passionate and perfect love- an everlasting love."

you found yourself waiting with bated breath, not able to move even when he approaches you, placing a hand on your cheek while softly caressing at your skin. "that was the message you wished to convey to me this whole time...?"

your heart was racing once more, feeling your gaze narrowing at him when he inches closer to you. "y-yes... it's true..."

"hm..." he trails off, yet you could see the wide grin that spreads across his lips when he places a hand against your chin, keeping you still as his hot breath was felt tickling at your lips.

"i'm glad to know that you feel the same way. and don't get me wrong, i have every intention of taking you out on a date while claiming you as my girlfriend. but first-

i really want to kiss you right now."

your eager nod and the way you let out a dreamy sigh was all the confirmation jinwoo needed to press his lips against yours in a perfect kiss, making you feel grateful that your love letter managed to reach him after all-

(regardless of the fact that jinwoo needed some help to finally understand the message you were trying to convey 💐)

a.n. - it’s about time i wrote a full on fluffy oneshot that doesn’t have much angst in it for jinwoo 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung #.stories

[angelofthenight]

“Are We About to Kiss?”

(Vance Hopper x Reader)

Part 2 Part 3

(Reader is g/n but has mostly female friends so this can be read as g/n or fem!)

Summary: (Y/n) uses the weapon of flustering to get out of a violent situation with Vance

Warnings: Swearing, Threats, Slight public humiliation, Vance is kinda tsundere

Word Count: 2.5k

~

You walked down the aisles of the Grab N Go with one of your friends by your side. The two of you were going to a sleepover party to celebrate transitioning from freshman to sophomore when school starts again by the end of summer break. The whole place seemed to be pretty busy, considering it was 5pm on a Saturday.

“(Y/n), just pick one already. I don’t want us to be the last people at the party.” Your friend complained over your shoulder as you kept looking between two of your favorite snacks in the aisle. “Dude, relax, it’s cooler to be fashionably late. Plus it’s better to be the last person there rather than the first ‘cause we don’t have to wait for the party to start.” You explained as you finally grabbed one of your options.

Right as you got up from your knees to your feet the door hit the bell alerting everyone that someone had arrived. “Oh my god, look at who just walked in.” Your friend quietly said to you as you felt the air in the room go tense and people go still like if they breathed too loud they’d get attacked. You finally looked over to where everyone was looking to see the infamous Vance Hopper walk over to his beloved pinball machine.

Everyone knew this specific Grab N Go was Vance’s territory yet everyone still seemed to cower away from him. Just like the group of boys, who were always mean and harassed you and others, that were hanging around the game literally scampered away in a fearful sweat.

Vance wasn’t necessarily a bully, more of just an aggressive individual who will attack if provoked. So it was satisfying to see him scare off the ones who purposely brought out people’s misery. It was like seeing a lion among kittens; a jungle cat among house cats.

You went to middle school with him before he was held back twice and he was always very strange around you. He’d consistently sit next to you in the classes you shared and get very defensive if someone took his spot so it was clear he wanted to sit next to you but yet would never talk to you. And everytime you’d talk to him he would be very rude and a little passive aggressive. You still wondered to this day why he always sat next to you. Maybe it was because the seat was closest to the door, maybe it had the best view of the clock, maybe it had the best view of the board, maybe it had the best view of the window. Maybe he liked the scent of the perfume you wore everyday or maybe it was just easiest to cheat off your work. The list was honestly endless.

The Grab N Go slowly returned to its previous atmosphere once Vance got settled into his game. Your friend led the two of you to the line to the cash register to check out your snacks. Your features perked up over remembering something. You touched your friend's shoulder, “I forgot my drink, I’ll be right back.” You said simply before quickly walking over to the very last aisle where the fridges were. The drink you wanted in the size and style you liked was only sold here so you always liked getting it every time you came around.

You quickly rounded the comic rack that was right next to the occupied pinball machine. You glanced over to the boy who you haven’t seen all summer and was completely focused on his game. Your gaze lingered a little longer than you thought since when you turned your head back you had to halt your walking, almost knocking into the short child just standing there staring at the chips across the drinks. You moved around him to pull the clear door open to grab your favorite drink, managing to get the second to last one.

You let the door swing close on its own as you retraced your steps in pursuit of rounding the comic book rack. Your eyes moved back onto Vance’s focused face, that was your first mistake that led to your second mistake: getting distracted. Just when you looked back in front of you another child came running at you from around the comics. You yelped in surprise and threw yourself to the side to avoid letting the kid run right into you as he passed you to reach the other kid.

That was your third and worst mistake. Because when you thrashed yourself out of the way you caused your lower back to smack right into the side of the pinball machine.

Before the sound of loss even came from the game you jumped away from it in utter foreboding fear, eyes blown open in skittish terror. You clutched onto your cold drink, feeling the frozen coldness burn your palm skin to pink. You watched in absolute horror as the tiny metal ball fell through the bottom hole as Vance’s face watched helplessly.

You wondered if you had time to snatch the kid who ran past you and replace yourself from your spot with him, saving yourself while pinning the blame on the one who caused it. You also considered just digging your own grave right there and then. You debated if you should just accept your fate and take the beating like an idiotic champ, get at least a pat on the back for not crying.

Vance began huffing like a bull through his nose and clenched teeth as his fists tightened so hard his knuckles turned white. “Are you fucking-” he turned his furious face to you, eyes that burned with hellfire clapping onto yours, “-kidding me?!”

You were too frozen in fear to speak as you mentally weighed your pathetic options at the last second. You could beg for your life, you could try apologizing, you could try to make a run for it, or start praying to God. You wanted to just drop dead before he could touch you, already knowing you weren’t a fan of hospital food at all.

He lunged toward you like a wildcat and grabbed two fistfulls of your shirt, you dropping your drink in the aggressive process. You hopelessly listened to your drink shatter to glass as Vance wildly pounded your back against the cold fridge door, feeling the frosty fumes chill your exposed skin.

You grasped onto his wrists as you felt the floor suddenly sink away from your feet. Your eyebrows were curving upwards in fear as Vance glared with an enraged snarl. “You fucked with my game you goddamn bitch!” He brought your face closer to growl in close proximity, “I’m gonna crack your fucking skull open, twatty cunt!”

‘Okay, ouch. He didn’t have to add the last part.’ Your mind managed to say through the hot, buzzing feeling that was spiking through your senses. It was strange to have this much of Vance’s attention on you since for all the years you’ve sat next to each other your faces never really faced each other directly for a long amount of time, only fleeting glances and looking over right when the other looked away.

You wondered if you cried, you could make Vance feel bad a little and let you off with a threatening warning. Maybe you could say something like “Hey remember me? You always sat next to me in our classes? Haha, aren’t we good bro?” Your brain was in survival mode and racked for ideas in three seconds until you landed on one. Deescalate the situation by making it unbearingly awkward.

“Are we about to kiss right now?” You asked, putting on a wondering look.

There was a pin drop of silence after your statement, even Vance’s carnivorous expression dropping like a dime and being replaced with a sense of confused shock. He almost looked cutely innocent with that soft look in his eyes from being caught off guard. His lips were parted with a loss of words and his cheeks unmistakably faded into a dusted shade of pastel red. Whether from anger or flusteredness was unclear to you but you hoped it was weakening enough for him to let you go out of awkwardness or second hand embarrassment.

Vance’s eyes darted around your surroundings, looking at anything but you, appearing to not know how to react. You kept your face calm and serious to hopefully make the situation more uncomfortable for him. He bared his clenched teeth as he sounded like he struggled to say anything. He dropped your shirt, letting your feet touch the ground and your body slouch against the wall, and backed away from you with his hands up like if he touched you any longer he would catch something.

“What is wrong with you!?” Vance shouted with his face still flushed which made him look slightly less intimidating. “Of course we weren’t gonna fucking-” He stumbled on his words a bit as he couldn’t seem to even get the word out. “J-Just get out of my sight!” He yelled down at you and then added for extra measure, “Stupid cunt!”

You scattered up to your feet and sped walked away, briefly looking down at your shattered drink with a look of disappointment, and out the Grab N Go doors. All eyes were on your form as you ran off. You slumped your back against the outdoor wall as you caught the breath you didn’t realize you lost. It was only a minute until your friend came out with the snacks in her arms and ran over to you. “Holy shit, dude! I totally thought you were done for! Like, I literally thought he was going to crack open your head!” She exclaimed with a horrified expression.

You grabbed her free hand and placed it right on your heartbeat. “Feel how fast my heart is beating. My whole life flashed before my eyes… I sleep a lot.” You said with a humorous tone and relieved smile. “I still can’t believe you said that! And he was so stunned he actually let you go! Good to know your weirdness scared off the fucking apex predator of Denver. You tamed the beast!” She said as she hooked her arm around yours to start walking towards her car. “His friend teased Vance about it and he kept being like ‘sh-shut up!’ all flustered with the pinkest cheeks!” She laughed loudly.

You smiled small in amusement as you looked over your shoulder to the glass window that captured Vance still by his pinball machine. Once you looked over you caught him looking at you too but quickly whipped his head away as if he wasn’t.

~

The sound of the doorbell silenced the laughter filled conversation with you and everyone else at the sleepover party. You stood up from your spot on the carpeted ground saying, “I think that’s the pizza, I’ll go get it.” You jumped over your friends’ laid down bodies and pillows to reach the coffee table where everyone put in an equal amount of cash to pay for the pizza. You ran up the basement steps while tucking the money in a neat stack.

You reached the front door to unlock it before swinging it open… only to be faced with Vance Hopper. You swore you almost pissed yourself, fearing that he had made up his mind and wanted to finish you off after that little stunt of yours.

“Hey.” Vance said with his arms crossed tightly. Your brows pinched together in sudden puzzlement. “Did you follow me here?” He glared and barked in defense, “Don’t flatter yourself! One of my friends knows your friend's older sister.” You slowly nodded, still wanting to know how that conversation exactly went and how it led to you.

You placed the money on the table beside the door then leaned against the doorframe, folding your hands together. “So why are you here?” You asked. Vance dropped one of his arms to reach into his back pocket, pulling out your favorite drink from the Grab N Go. The last one. He handed it over to your delighted self. “You dropped your other one like a clutz.” He said simply before tucking his arms back away.

You smiled in surprise down at the drink in your hands and flashed a brighter smile back up at him. “Thanks a lot.” He turned his head to the side, “It’s whatever.” You were about to apologize for bumping into his game but he started talking before you could. His head faced you again and he leaned a little closer to you with a glare and his arms still tightly crossed. “Just so you know, we were not gonna kiss back there. I was getting ready to kick your ass and you just… caught me off guard. So if you thought it was because I like you, then you’re fucking wrong. Because I don’t.” He said with defensive aggression over something you didn’t even suspect.

Your eyebrows were slightly raised over how worked up he got about that theory no one even said aloud. He turned on his heels to walk down the steps but turned back around at the middle step, pointing a finger at the drink in your hand. “And I didn’t get you that because I like you! Okay!?” His voice got a little quieter, “It’s because you’ve always been cool and you were just stupid just this once.” You guessed that was his own weird way of forgiving you.

You watched him finish walking down the steps before you said to him, “Hey Vance, one more thing!” He turned to you with a waiting look. You smiled softly. “I miss sitting next to you in class. I hope you get to pass this year.” You said, hoping this makes things cool between you two and maybe even become friends.

Vance’s cheeks turned rosy as he casted his eyes back down. “Me too.” He said in a quieter tone than how he had been talking, letting you wonder which statement he answered with that. He looked back up and pointed another finger at you with furrowed brows. “And if anyone says that I like you just know they’re wrong and stupid! Okay!?” He added randomly but his warm cheeks kind of ruined it.

You smiled in amusement. “Okay.” He turned back around and started walking back to his friend's parked car in the street. “Bye Vance!” You called out. “Cunt!” He yelled back, returning to his more defensive tone.

Your group of friends all suddenly crowded around behind you, watching over your shoulder Vance and his friend drive off. “What was that about?” One of your friends asked with a mixture of confusion and protectiveness.

“You know, I think he admitted he likes me… in his own weird way.” You said with an amused her confused head tilt over what just happened.

#the black phone imagine #the black phone x reader #the black phone #vance hopper imagine #vance hopper x reader #vance hopper

[strawbsj]

The hoop to my heart!

Summary: your coach was always harsh on you, but behind that tone there were deeper feelings…

Pairings: basketball player and coach Yunjin x basketball player fem reader!

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: virgin reader, p in v, unprotected sex, reader implied to have some family issues, reader mentions their grandma, slightly mean Yunjin, not proofread and just smut and slight angst!

Wish you could just punch that stupid smirk off that, good looking face. Her voice, her smile, her attitude, the hold she got on you. Just making you hate her more And more. ”Be faster y/n, how do you think we can win if you keep this snail pace on?” Yunjin complained, you just scoffed and handed the ball to your teammate, walking towards the changing room, too worked out of everything. Your school has been stressful, your mom and dad constantly bickering, basketball competitions coming up, just everything.

Basketball was usually the hobby, you always came to when you felt lonely, sad, stressed or happy. It was your home, but the last months were tough and after the number one player and your coach Yunjin started playing with your team. She couldn’t stop complaining about how you throw the ball, how you hand the ball, AND even how you walk with the ball. It’s like she loves pointing out anything she thinks is “wrong”.

Yeah, she is the coach and she must criticize some stuff, so you can improve and get better, but it’s not like that, it’s only you, you were her problem and you were the only one she criticized. Even her tone when she criticized was bitter and acerbic.

You walked towards the changing rooms tiredly, today’s practice leaving you no energy to use, you quickly unpacked your stuff and decided to shower at home since you don’t want to spend more time at this place. Why did she dislike you this much? Why is she nice to others but you? Thoughts were constantly crossing your mind, or more like questions.

The walk home was peaceful and you needed that the most, the sky dark, the only light in it are the stars. It was nice till you came in front of your house door, The shouting could be heard through the door. You shut your eyes tightly, and took a deep breath before sliding your key in, and twisting the lock.

The door opened and you walked in on your parents in the kitchen yelling at each other. You sighed deeply and didn’t spare them a glance,walking straight to your room.

You just collapsed on your bed. The soft cushions pressing against your face, you grabbed the teddy beside you, that your grandma gave you when you were born and just snuggled it. The aroma of your grandma and the clean bedsheets bringing you comfort and peace. The place you could always come to.

Growing up your family was not the best emotionally, your dad a busy business man and your mom a designer. Both of them traveled a lot and you were left here alone, sometimes you went to your beloved grandmas house, the house that was your real home. Financially your parents were very stable, they had a very good income and a good cash balance. But that didn’t suffice your relationship with your parents emotionally. As well your parents were very strict and made sure you didn’t date anyone, and thats why you have never dated or even kissed anybody.

You suddenly were out of your thoughts and noticed that the loud voices got quieter. You sighed in relief, finally. You were staring at the ceiling blankly, unknowingly drifting to sleep.

You woke up to shouting again, the usual. You were sore from the practice, remembering that you were supposed to shower but you didn’t. You groaned, now you have to shower at morning!

You took a nice hot shower and wore your clothes, you didn’t really like morning showers but this was surprisingly relaxing.

You walked downstairs and grabbed an apple, not wanting to sit in that tensed environment, you decided to eat your apple on the way to school.

You entered the school and immediately walked towards your class, when you were walking you saw Yunjin with bunch of girls, girls she’d probably fuck tonight. Bet she didn’t even know their names.

She gave you a dirty smirk before grabbing one girl for a kiss, during the kiss her eyes never left yours, making sure you see how she is basically eating that girls mouth. You don’t know why but you definitely know that you are not supposed to feel that way, what is it?

Annoyed? No

Furious? No

Jealous? No…Yes

You suddenly catch yourself staring and quickly walk away, at the end you have a class you should go to. You felt slightly embarrassed, you just stared at your annoying coach, Yunjin kissing a random girl. And you feel kinda jealous, but you don’t know why? You hate her so why are you feeling this way? You surely didn’t like her? Did you?

The school day was shit, really shit. You forgot your book and got yelled by your teacher, the milk you bought from the cafe spilled all over your shirt, you got detention for being too “loud” in class. What?!?!?

Now you are sitting in the empty classroom, staring at the wall unimpressed and grumpy. It was one hour which will lead you to be late for the basketball practice, and that means yunjin will yell at you again and the day will just be even more worse.

The one hour felt like 10, but you managed to get out. You were ready to be yelled at by yunjin. But hey! Showing up late is better than not showing up at all.

You carefully walked and you were met by Yunjin, arms crossed, face bored and eyes dark. “You are late!” She stated apathetically, you looked at your feet “I know, I’m sorry” you simply replied.

You didn’t want to hear her response so you hurriedly walked towards the changing room. The practice was even worse than usually, or was it because you had a bad day? Yunjin didn’t let you breathe, the whole time she was just picking on everything you do. The most unnecessary things, “y/n be faster!” “y/n hand the ball properly!” “Y/n don’t walk like that!” And that’s when you snapped, tears running down like a waterfall being unstoppable and eyes becoming red.

You started running to pack your stuff and go.Yunjin was shocked, did she really push you this far? She decided to go check on you, and maybe give you an apology.

She walked on you, and saw you,hair out, nose and cheeks red with tears actively flowing and sniffing constantly. The sight made her heart clench and guilt wash over her.

She approached you slowly and looked at her feet, scared to meet your eyes. “I’m sorry for being harsh on you all the time…I have liked you for a while now and I wanted you to feel anything for me, even if that means hatred” she confessed, you swore your jaw would have dropped to the ground if it could, and your eyes widened.

You don’t know what to say, and were confused because you think you like her but she still used to treat you like shit. You let your inner thoughts win, placing your hands on her cheeks and taking her in a soft kiss.

You opened your eyes and saw her shocked expression, before kissing back. The kiss was so soft and gentle, the hatred and hurt in you flooding away. She placed her hands on your upper back, guiding you to lay on the bench.

Her lips were hungrily over yours, you hardly had time to respond to her. She was kissing you like she had been starved. Her sleeveless arm meeting your silky soft skin. Her hands found their way down to your shirt, you parted your lips and looked her deep into the eyes.

“I’m virgin” you breathed out, after hearing that her expression quickly softened and the hunger and lust in her eyes got replaced with warmth. Her hands left the hem of your shirt, but you were quick to place it again there. “I want it” you uttered, “are you sure baby? I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do this” she questioned, you gave her a reassuring nod and she pecked your lips before her hand slowly slid your shorts down and slid your shirt over your breast and unclasped your bra. She suck in a deep breath before blurting “such a pretty pair”. Her hands found their way, and started massaging them slowly. Earning soft moans from you, the contact from her hands making your panties stick to your folds, wetting your panties. “I need you Yunjin ” you whimpered, her touch way too slow for your liking. She smiled and took a look at the wet patch before moving your panties to the side. Getting a good look at your pretty pussy. Her pants getting way too tight for her, she groaned deeply. She hastily took her pants along with her boxers off, before placing her mushroom tip at your entrance. “Are you ready?” She asked, care visible on her face. You gave the same nod you gave a while ago. She finally pushed in, pussy squeezing her too tightly. Her eyes rolled to the back of her skull, at first you let a gasp of pain, it hurt but the feeling of being full overtaking you.

It was too difficult to move due to your cunt suffocating her deliciously, her whole body was burning with sensation. She placed Open mouth kisses all over your neck and chests. Before her tongue grabbed one of your nipples, her tongue moved professionally around the two breast, moving from one to another. Her tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. She made you forget the pain down there by her mouth. Her length started slowly thrusting in and out of you, your cunt sucking her in deeply.

Both of your moans could probably be heard, you didn’t care everyone is gone by now. She continued the ramming in your pussy, the pleasure driving both of you insane.

You were the best fuck she ever had, better than any of those sluts that she fucked every night and couldn’t care less about.

Her tip continued the abuse on your cervix, she was close so close, and she could be cumming any time. You were also very close, the sweet clench you gave her indicating you were close.

Few more slow but harsh thrusts from her and you squirted, your orgasm leaving you exhausted. Her thrusts never slowed down, your pussy now was squishing her even tighter. Clenching and unclenching around her base, she let out a loud deep moan and pounded her liquid into you. The creamy white ropes of fluids painted your walls. Both of you feeling satisfied. She cradled you in her arms and nibbled on your neck gently. “You are my girlfriend now, right?” She asked you. You found the question ridiculous so you decided to give her a peck to answer her curiosity. She smile and returned the peck. “Let’s go shower now!” She demanded, picking you up and taking you to the shower in the changing rooms.

#le sserafim smut #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin x you #huh yunjin x reader smut #huh yunjin x fem reader #huh yunjin smut #huh yunjin fluff #huh yunjin #jennifer huh #Jennifer smut #le sserafim x reader smut #le sserafim x fem reader #le sserafim yunjin smut #le sserafim #yunjin x reader #yunjin smut #yunjin x you #yunjin #yunjin huh

[kakujis]

if i could just get my hands on you.

feat: bonten!mikey, kokonoi, kakucho, + sanzu. i really wanted to put the haitani brothers in but i cant think of anything rn ;-;. afab! reader x bonten.

a/n: this probably, most definitely ooc bc lets be real they would most likely not hold back(unless ur kakucho) but this was self indulgent for me!

warnings: i say “maybe” a lot. face-fucking (kokonoi), voyeurism + panty!! stealer!! kakucho my beloved!!!, a bit of angst, drug mentions/usage(sanzu), squint and there’s some yan, oral f! receiving(sanzu). minors dni.

manjiro sano always gets what he wants. it doesn't matter if it's something as simple as taiyaki or becoming the most notorious gang in japan. every request is met with a "yes, sir.” but for some reason, mikey, just can't have you. his pretty receptionist. he’s not entirely sure why he doesn't just order you into his room, bullying his way into your tight cunt and fucking you dumb. maybe it's the way you always smile at him, even as he's just ordered sanzu to kill the three rival gang grunts begging for their lives off-site. or maybe it's the way you make him his tea every morning, doing your best to make sure its just right and none of it spills. you're so sweet to him and yet every time he touches you, he feels the way you stiffen. the way you begin to tremble when he gets too close. he thinks you shine brighter than the sunlight that peeks through the curtains onto his desk. perhaps, there is still a piece of the old mikey left, because he just can't bring himself to hurt you. so instead, he fucks the next whore that sanzu throws at him wishing it was you.

due to his massive amount of wealth, kokonoi hajime, loves to spoil his girls. anything they want, he gives, as long as he gets what he wants in return. which means face-fucking them until he shoots his load down each one of their throats, throwing them away until he calls them up again with another tempting wad of cash and the promise of luxury. you walked in on him once, trying to fulfill one of mikey’s orders. a small gasp left your mouth once you realized what was happening. you shut your eyes, immediately apologizing and slamming the door. after that incident kokonoi wanted you to see him again. he’d think about it every time he shoved his cock deep into one of his playthings. would you run away again? probably. or maybe, you'd join in and beg him to take you next. he'd like that, he thinks, as he slams into one of his girls, a bit frustrated that her moans and wails were doing nothing for him. ah, if only he had the guts to ask mikey if he'd want a new receptionist.

kakucho is in love with you. every morning, he waits to hear you greet him. and every night, he waits for you to take his blood stained coat off and welcome him home. unfortunately for him, you do that for all of them. bonten's little maid, who runs around the base tending to each and every one of them. sure, they have the money and the access to all the top doctors in japan, but most of the time you're enough. as japan's top gang, no one really ever stands a chance against them in a fight and anyone who does is promptly shot. he feels so guilty, stroking himself with your used undies, outside your bathroom door. he drinks in your sweet voice as you hum a familiar tune, his little songbird. he desperately wishes he could slip inside your shower, your back arching against his chest, fingers sinking deep into your cunt. he imagines kissing you to swallow your moans, hand coated in your slick as he fucks you thoroughly on his fingers. ever so gently, he’d ease you onto his aching dick, feeling the flutter of your plush walls. he thinks you’d look so beautiful, more than usual, being bounced on his cock, water running down your body. he climaxes quickly once he hears the water switch off, stuffing your soiled panties into his pocket. he hopes you won’t notice this is your third missing pair.

sanzu haruchiyo needs you to need him. its only fair considering how badly he needs you. when he finds himself slipping from reality or sobering up from a bad trip, your voice always calls out to him. “sanzu… sanzu?” he blinks, your fuzzy form bringing some much needed company. as he continues sobering up, you always bring a cup of water to his lips, coaxing him to drink. it’s mind numbingly sweet the way you swipe at his scarred mouth when some liquid drips. you always dim the lights as well, not wanting to overstimulate him as he sobers up. if he wasn’t so fucked up he’d probably pounce on you then, ripping your clothes to shreds as he dives face first into your pussy. sanzu wants to feel the tug on his pink locks, envisioning how you would desperately grind on his face inching closer and closer to completion. what he would give to taste you just one time, to be completely soaked in your juices. he could probably eat you out for hours, licking and sucking on your poor puffy clit. maybe he’d tongue fuck you next, ignoring your pleas and overstimming you until you’re a trembling mess on his bed. but those are just dreams and by the time he’s grounded in reality, you’re gone, back to mikey’s office.

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo revengers smut #manjiro sano smut #sanzu haruchiyo smut #kokonoi hajime smut #kakucho hitto smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #pibby writing #kakucho x reader #manjiro sano x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #kokonoi hajime x reader

[lilirari]

🧋 everyone thinks pedri should stop pining for you because you 'don't give a f*ck' about him but they don't know what your actual relationship with the footballer is.

💌 pedri gonzález x fem! joao felix's bff! reader (social media au)

🌟 cw : pedri being a total simp, cheesy pick-up lines, translated spanish & portuguese sentences, timelines don't matter

💭 author's note : this is for my beloved pookie @leclercloml ! ilysm <3 idk if the ending parts make sense but please just bear with it 😞

instagram 🎥

yourinstagram

📍 new york city, usa

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, jennaortega and 13,193,299 others

yourinstagram the wind was a paid actor

view all 17,929 comments

pedri 😍😍😍

pedri eres la chica más hermosa que he visto en mi vida.

pedri i ought to complain to spotify for you not being named this week's hottest single

-> spotify complaint received 😉

-> user59 oh spotify's definitely on the pedri x y/n agenda

pedri do you happen to have a band-aid ? i just scrapped my knees falling for you

-> yourinstagram deserved fall down again

-> user80 HELPDHSHDHSHDH WHY IS SHE LIKE THIS

-> user44 poor pedri but this is kind of funny 😭

jennaortega my favourite girl (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)

mikkykiemeney 🫶🫶🫶

saraguendogan gorgeous !!!

user45 the way two of the most popular barça wags are in her comments.. joão really must've introduced her to everyone in barça by now 😭

joaofelix79 minha linda melhor amiga 🥰

-> yourinstagram te amo joao 🫶

user33 babe wake up pedrizz gonzález is in the comments of y/n's post again

view more comments

yourinstagram

📍 ibiza

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, ferrantorres and 15,364,748 others

yourinstagram i love pink <3

view all 20,273 comments

pedri and i love you 🥰😘

-> yourinstagram ew

pedri ¿dónde has estado toda mi vida? 😍

pedri if beauty was a crime, you would've been sentenced for life in prison

-> user11 omg this is actually so good y/n please accept his love 😞

emmamyers 🩷🩷🩷

ferrantorres ❤️

liked by yourinstagram

joaofelix79 my prettiest girl 🫶

-> yourinstagram joao best boy !!!

user34 pedri should just stop trying to win y/n's heart man she clearly has no interest in him he's just wasting his time..

user50 i want a friendship like y/n and joão's 🥹

user96 is something going on between y/n and ferran ?? 🤔

user23 wait i'm a new barça fan and i came from x after seeing a post about pedri commenting on this girl's post.. who is she exactly ?

-> user22 she's y/n l/n, an upcoming model and also the bff of joão félix ! ^^

-> user23 ooh she's so pretty i get why pedri wants her lol

user82 huh ?? wasn't y/n in new york like literally yesterday ? how is she already in ibiza 😭

-> user25 queen's working so hard fr 😞

user75 pedrito i know you'll get the girl of your dreams someday i'm rooting for you !!!

liked by pedri

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yourinstagram

📍 lisbon, portugal

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, frenkiedejong and 20,182,838 others

tagged mikkykiemeney, saraguendogan, annalewandowska, taia_belloli, joaofelix79

yourinstagram on a trip with my girls (there's an imposter among us)

view all 25,999 comments

pedri quisiera ser joyero para poder apreciar un diamante como tú todos los días 🤍

-> yourinstagram bro please stop before i block you 🧍‍♀️

-> user77 pedri i think you should listen to her y/n can be absolutely ruthless 😭

pedri ok but why did joão get invited and i didn't ?

-> yourinstagram bc you're not one of the girls ???

-> pedri and joão is ??

-> yourinstagram yeah !!! ☺️

-> joaofelix79 i was forced to tag along against my own will, hermano 😞

mikkykiemeney had so much fun with you, love ! 🫶

annalewandowska thanks for inviting me, angel ❤️

joaofelix79 who's the best tour guide & chauffeur ??

-> yourinstagram you are !! 🥰🥰 thanks for making this trip fun and memorable, amor 🫶

-> joaofelix79 yeah yeah i accept thanks only in cash and credit

saraguendogan 💋💋

taia_belloli mi novia 🥰

user23 AHHH Y/N WITH THE BARÇA WAGS

user81 OMG THOSE POOL PICTURES OF Y/N AND SARA ARE SO PRETTY

user43 wait does this mean y/n is a barça wag ?

-> user19 i don't think so but i also won't be surprised if she's dating one of the guys

-> user01 nah, i think she just got really close with the wags because of félix

user99 MOTHER IS MOTHERING !!!

user45 MY WIVES 💅

user55 can pedri please just give up on pursuing y/n.. she's CLEARLY not interested in you bro

-> pedri 🙉

-> user39 shut up man he clearly doesn't give a fuck about what people like you are saying

user26 no bc are we sure joão and y/n are not dating ?

-> user34 yep pretty sure

-> user84 they sure are sus for two best friends who call each other 'amor' and say 'ily' to e/o all the time

-> user07 i'm sure it's just in a platonic way, man

-> user02 what ? can't two people of the opposite gender say ily and still be only friends ? this is just a healthy friendship bro

user43 y/n please notice pedri and treat him properly challenge 😞🙏

user46 AHHH i hope joão showed them all the best places in lisbon ❤️🇵🇹

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yourinstagram

📍 paris, france

🎼 my love mine all mine : mitski

liked by joaofelix79, oliviarodrigo, gigihadid and 33,127,289 others

yourinstagram bts for the photoshoot of a new magazine cover for vogue ! oh, and i got some flowers today ;) 💐

view all 42,569 comments

joaofelix79 nice flowers

joaofelix79 who's that man though 👀

-> yourinstagram idk you tell me 🫣

jennaortega already omw to pre-order 1000 copies of the magazine

-> yourinstagram please i love you 😭🫶

gigihadid perfection 🫶

-> yourinstagram love u gigi

heidiklum 🤍🖤

konichan7 🥰

adrianalima xoxo 💋

_ferminlopez 🤭

-> user77 ariana what are you doing here

user34 some of the biggest names in the modelling industry are here in the comments... y/n really has come so far i'm so proud of you girl 🥹

user27 here for y/n's famous era !!!

user97 our prettiest princess !!! we love you y/n 💌

user36 SIS IS THAT A MAN I SEE BEHIND YOU 😧

user05 don't be shy y/n show us a picture of the man in the second slide

user72 the song... the picture... the flowers... HAVE WE LOST Y/N TO A MAN ???

user55 um guys where's pedri ?

-> user78 EXACTLY WHAT I WAS THINKING

-> user40 WHERE'S OUR GOLDEN BOY AND HIS SHITTY PICK-UP LINES

user95 pedri's @ is not there in the likes...

user33 no cringey pick-up line comments from pedri and he's not in the likes either.. what's happening..

user67 i'm guessing that man must be her bf ??

user15 well ig at least we all know that the man with her is not pedri since he's nowhere to be found 🤷‍♀️

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yourinstagram

📍 barcelona, spain

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, louispartridge_ and 40,932,389 others

yourinstagram hi barcelona

view all 45,693 comments

joaofelix79 what are you doing here

-> yourinstagram came to visit you bestie 🥰🥰🥰 i missed you sooooo much

-> joaofelix79 what a liar 🙄

oliviarodrigo love u girlie

alejandrobalde 🤍

liked by yourinstagram

taia_belloli you are glowing, sis !!!

jennierubyjane pretty in white ♡

alexiaputellas 💓💘

user13 my sunshine !!! 💛☀️

user04 what's balde doing here 😧

user82 BALDE ??? HELLO ????

user75 pedri in the likes but still no comment...

user16 what is happening with y/n and the barça boys

user30 damn i kinda miss pedri's comments 😭

user27 has pedri finally stopped trying to rizz y/n up ??

-> user08 i hope so.. he doesn't deserve her she seems so annoying

-> user89 how exactly is she annoying ??

-> user08 she's always dismissing/ignoring his comments and being mean to him what a bitch

-> user89 i don't think she's actually being mean though.. and if he isn't bothered by the way she acts then why are you ?

-> user75 please stop calling y/n names and trying to make her a villain she's an absolute angel

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, jennaortega and others

user66 the way we see different barça players comment on her post everyday 🧍‍♀️ guess today's man of the day is balde

user05 THAT DRESS IS GORG SIS

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yourinstagram 10 minutes ago | pedri 2 minutes ago

seen by joaofelix79, pablogavi, frenkiedejong and 17,929,199 others

y/n's dms 🏷️

☆ joaofelix79 replied to your story !

husband ??? 😰😱

yourinstagram

yuh

☆ user56 replied to your story !

HUSBAND ???? QUEEN WHO ???

☆ user69 replied to your story !

please tell me that's just a beyonce reference and you don't actually have a husband.. 🥹

twitter 🫖

imessage 💬

mi esposa 💌

i think it's time

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

wait really ? are you sure about this ?

mi esposa 💌

yeah 100% sure i'm ready

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

alright then

mi esposa 💌

it's been a good run, hasn't it ?

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

it sure has...

3 years ain't that bad

mi esposa 💌

frfr !!

we're a bit too good at this 🤭

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

i second that

mi esposa 💌

i'll drop a head's up now

see you on the other side 🫡

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

let's go give the world a shock, mi amor 🫶

twitter 🫖

instagram 🎥

yourinstagram

📍 tenerife, canary islands

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, jennaortega and 50,199,143 others

tagged pedri

yourinstagram i'm guessing this wasn't the type of news y'all were expecting, huh ? jokes on all of you bc pedrito and i have actually been together for three years now. we were just a bit too good at hiding our relationship 🤭 anyways happy three years together, mi amor, and also happy 6 months of our marriage ! te amare por siempre, my golden boy 🤍

view all 60,000 comments

pedri my gorgeous girl

pedri te amo, mi vida 🫶

liked by yourinstagram

pedri te voy a denunciar a la policía por robarme el corazón

-> yourinstagram oh no ! i can't be behind bars now — i've got my whole life ahead of me ! 😰

joaofelix79 ahh finally !!! keeping your relationship a secret was probably the hardest thing i ever had to do in my entire life

-> yourinstagram you're the absolute best joão thank you 🫶

-> joaofelix79 as i've said before, i accept thanks in only cash and credit

-> yourinstagram sending you some money rn

-> joaofelix79 😁😁😁

jennaortega my favourite couple !!!

-> yourinstagram my maid of honour 🥹🫶

pablogavi ❤️

gigihadid still in awe over this look of yours you really are the prettiest bride

mikkykiemeney 😍😍😍

annalewandowska my babies 🥹🥹

fcbarcelona the best couple 🫶

ferrantorres ❤‍🔥

user81 .... girl what

user90 WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUVK

user12 three years... THREE YEARS ?????

user04 not only have you been together for three years but URE FRICKING MARRIED ????

user24 HOW TF DID NO ONE KNOW ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP

user46 HUHHHHHHHHHHH 😧😧😧😧😧😧

user57 we are all fvcking clowns

user68 another day of blaugrana being an entire circus

user38 THREE YEARS ???? but félix joined barça only this year.. huh how did you guys meet i'm confused

-> yourinstagram pedri and i have actually known each other for a long time now 😭 most of you may just know me as joão's bff but only some people know that i'm friends with pedri's brother hehe so we got to know each other through fernando :)

user72 HOW DID YOU GUYS HID YOUR RELATIONSHIP FROM US FOR THREE HECKING YEARS ? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE ?????

user01 HOW DID THE MEDIA AND PAPARAZZI NOT CATCH YOU WHAT

user07 goodness idek how to react to this

user29 wait so you were just pretending to hate pedri in your previous posts... but why ?

-> yourinstagram oh it was just a bet we made when joão joined barça this year. most of you knew me only when joão joined barça and pedri and i had already been working on our marriage plans by then. we've hid the facts about our relationship for three years now but marriage is a huge thing and there was no way we could hide our wedding for years so we just wanted to see how long it would take for the paparazzi to catch up on the news lol. to help hide our marriage a little longer, we just pulled an unrequited love act on my instagram posts and i pretended to ignore him irl too for fun 🤭

-> user57 this is absolutely insane... you guys are geniuses

-> user80 OKAY BUT WHO WON THE BET THOUGH ???

-> yourinstagram technically no one since we both thought the news wouldn't get out until next year but we're spending our honeymoon in barcelona rn and we just got a bit too bold in public and sadly got caught 😞

yourinstagram ok correction you guys we never really hid our rs tbh i guess you guys just never knew me or like paid much attention to things so it just got really easy to date him without having to deal with the media 🤷‍♀️

-> user03 now that i think about it... i feel like you've appeared in a few of the gonzález family photos, y/n 🤔

-> yourinstagram yes i have ! but if i remember correctly, most people just thought i was fernando's gf or sumn 😭

-> user99 omg we were so fucking blind 🧍‍♀️

-> user67 well we just never expected pedri to have enough rizz to pull a beauty queen like you ig

-> pedri HEY

-> yourinstagram LMAO FOULLLLLL

user44 i love how y/n just spilled the whole tea to us 🥹 she's so iconic

user12 GOD I LOVE Y/N SO MUCH FOR THIS LITTLE STORYTIME UNDER THE COMMENTS

user06 THEY'RE SO FUCKING ADORABLE I LOVE YNPEDRI

user55 SUCH A BEAUTIFUL WEDDING DRESS 🤍

user21 what is with joão and money though LMAO

-> joaofelix79 if barça doesn't have enough money to buy me, then i'll provide them the money instead

-> user02 I'M IN TEARS THIS IS SO ICONIC OF YOU JOÃO

-> user74 LMFAO WHAT A LEGEND

user23 PEDRI IN THAT FOURTH SLIDE DAYUMMMM

user16 i hate you both so much for lying to us for so long but also congratulations on getting married !!! 🥹

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pedri

liked by yourinstagram, pablogavi, _rl9 and 69,239,839 others

tagged yourinstagram

pedri feliz aniversario, mi vida 🤍

comments on this post have been limited

twitter 🫖

♡ translations of pedri's pick-up lines !

“eres la chica más hermosa que he visto en mi vida.”

: you are the most beautiful girl i have ever seen in my life.

“¿dónde has estado toda mi vida?”

: where have you been all my life ?

“quisiera ser joyero para poder apreciar un diamante como tú todos los días.”

: i would like to be a jeweler so i can appreciate a diamond like you every day.

“te voy a denunciar a la policía por robarme el corazón.”

: i will report you to the police for stealing my heart.

© LILIRARI, 2023 ★

#🪼 lili's verse ‧₊˚✩彡 #football #futbol #fc barcelona #barça #spain nt #pedro gonzález lópez #pedri gonzalez #pedri #p8 #pedri x reader #pedri x you #pedri x y/n #pedri fanfic #pedri imagine #pedri fluff #pedri smau #pedri blurb #pedri one shot #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #footballer x reader #football fanfic #football imagine #football fluff #football smau #football blurb #football one shot

[the-kr8tor]

Ok, it’s a bit early for this type of request but hobie brown on Valentine’s Day with reader. Even though he hates the capitalist part of it, reader convinces him it’s all about the love and they celebrate together. (They make each other homemade gifts, and if they want something from the store hobie would steal it) <3

-🪩

Thank you for the adorable request!! Ly 🫶 (uploaded early bc i tend to forget abt valentine's day lol)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader, CW food mentions, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The loud music blares right inside your eardrums, chocolate aroma filtering through the entire flat, there's dried bits of it in your hair, apron and hands. You hum while putting the melted chocolate in its heart shaped molds.

Hobie's initials are freshly painted using icing on the prototypes or what you called ‘the rejected batch’ after you dumped more cocoa powder in it, making it lumpy and in turn making the hearts look wonky.

Stretching your aching neck, you place the tray of chocolate inside the freezer to cool, nodding to yourself at how you've practically perfected the last batch; now you just have to wait for it to freeze over so you could paint his initials and cartoon versions of you two on the chocolate. After that you can finally box them up and gift them to Hobie's as a valentine's gift—

“What's all this then?” A chin plops atop your shoulder, fingers taking off your earbuds for you.

You jump in your skin, back hitting the fridge door in surprise. “Fucking fuck!”

Hobie grins at your reaction, his hand hidden behind his back. “Cute apron. You look bloody fit in it.”

You clutch your imaginary pearls. “You're such an ass.” calming your racing heart, you flick his forehead. “You're early.”

“Time is a construct.”

“I'm not done with your gift.”

“Valentine's day is a sham holiday that capitalists invented so you could buy shit your partner doesn't need.” He raises a brow at you.

You loop your arms around his neck, smile widening at every word he utters. “What's that behind you then?”

“Flowers,” he sighs, revealing a bouquet of flowers from behind, the colorful paper crinkles, a thin red ribbon tying it all together. You're sure you've seen the flowers somewhere. “Before you say anythin’ it's from my garden.”

“You're an absolute sweetheart, Hobie brown.” eyes sparkling, you lean to press numerous kisses on his whole face, he scrunches up, feigning offense at your comment, but the way he subtly chases your lips says otherwise.

“My big punk sweetheart got me flowers!” You can't help but squeeze his cheeks. “From his beloved garden no less!” Pressing kisses in quick succession, he surrenders to you, sighing with every smooch you give him.

You lean away, affection satiated. He looks properly smooched with his face relaxed and lips smiling lopsidedly. His eyes are the same shape as the chocolates you've been making.

“The holiday's still a bloody cash grab.” He huffs, not an annoyed huff but a content one as you wipe the sheen you've left on his skin.

“I know it is.” You chuckle, busying yourself on cleaning his face. Your movements remind him of a cat grooming another cat; tender and soothing for the one they love. “It's about the thought, the love that comes with the gifts. Purchased or made there's love underneath it all.” Voice soft, lashes fluttering, you look at him like you've got the whole world in your hands.

“Or stolen from a multi million store that doesn't pay their employees fairly?” Hobie holds you by your middle, spare hand still clutched around the precious bouquet.

“Oh especially then!” you take his gift, smelling the petals. Your heart is full.

Smiling, you embrace him that he welcomes wholeheartedly. Nose nuzzling the crook of his neck, you leave a soft kiss on his jaw for good measure.

“Based on the chocolates on the walls, 'm guessing you got me a new guitar?” Hobie jokes, voice muffled by your temple that he's currently pecking like a man deprived of kisses. (He isn't)

“Wait a few more hours to get your gift?” You lean away to look at him, he's eyeing the prototypes on the counter.

“Stay with you for the rest of the day, getting snogged by you every second?” You nod, giggling. “Sounds like pants.” Before you could say something witty, he crashes his lips to yours.

Hobie tastes chocolates in your lips, making him kiss you deeper. Hands gliding along your lower back, he finds penchant on your hips, molding the soft skin in his hands.

He leans back, watching your flustered face gawp at him. “Tastes good, love.” His voice is deep and saccharine. You're absolutely melting in his arms, the bouquet almost slipping from your clammy hands.

“Let me get another taste.”

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #valentine's fic #hobie brown x gn! reader #spider punk x gn! reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #x reader #hobie x reader #hobie fluff #cw food mention #fanfic #🪩 anon

[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ deep in puppy love ]❜

ft. luca kaneshiro x f! reader — luxiem, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ luca is just like cerberus, the three-headed hellhound of the underworld— terrifying, but a puppy nonetheless for his master┊1k words

contains: smut!! dom reader & sub luca┊puppy-hybrid luca, pet play & pet names (puppy, good boy), lingerie, receiving oral, giving praise, coming untouched

➤ author's note: i love powerful men being submissive and down bad

₊˚ʚ 💌₊˚✧ birthday gift to the wonderful moot & writer @cryingaboutit1514!! (i hope a luca will suffice)

luca kaneshiro is the most infamous mafia boss in the nation who doesn’t have a single competitor for his title because they have either been integrated into his group or stomped out entirely if they refused to go out peacefully. his pockets are deeper than the mariana trench and bursting at the seams with cash and gold, helping him secure his choke-hold on the city’s corrupted authorities. just his name alone is enough to bring dread to any of his enemies who still haven’t been picked off by his men. shockingly, he isn’t in power primarily because of the terror factor, it’s because of the undying loyalty his men and executives have for him where they are willing to lay down their lives for him at their own volition.

as scary and intimidating as he seems to be, those close to him like family and friends will know how sweet he truly is. his iconic white fedora helps to hide his fuzzy ears while his back is never turned to show his fluffy tail, he’s true to his half-blood of being a golden retriever and well-beloved because of his innocent personality at heart that loves to get along with everyone.

although, even family and friends occasionally feel like they are walking on eggshells when interacting with him, anxious that one wrong word could spell their name on his list of those on his bad side. there’s only one person who didn’t have to watch their words so closely around him and could freely be themselves around him without the fear of crossing him, the only person who could boss around the mafia boss with him wrapped around their finger.

his tail wagged and thumped against the hardwood floor, his violet eyes staring at the beautiful black lace that graced your skin. he could see your arousal with his heightened sense of smell and it was driving him absolutely mad, trying to get closer to you so that he could get a taste. if you weren’t pushing back his head, he probably would have forgotten to rip it and would have tried to give you oral through the fabric with how excited he was.

“please, please, please,” he whimpered, voice filled with desperation to the point that he seemed like he could crack and cry if he didn’t have his face on your pretty pussy at that very second.

“please what, puppy?”

“please, let me eat you out… you look so sexy…”

“well, since you asked so nicely…” stilling keeping him at arm’s length, you slowly slipped off the intricate underwear along your leg and presented your glistening folds to his eager eyes. his hand moved to grip his erect cock that was painfully straining against his abs with white beads of pre-cum leaking out of the angry red tip, but you stopped him in the act and tutted, “you can touch yourself once i say so.” he looked so cute when he pouted and whined that you were half-tempted to change your mind, “don’t you want to be a good boy for me?”

as soon as the words “good boy” left your mouth, his demeanor changed immediately as any desire to pleasure himself evaporated back into the desire to serve you. it really took everything in him not to pounce on you and fuck you into the mattress, but he wanted to remain as your obedient puppy.

you gasped in surprise at his speed once you let go of him, his large hands grabbing onto your ankles to pull you towards him. his tongue roughly glided over your sopping hole, greedily lapping at your clit and flicking at it with the tip. he was so sloppy and loud, the sound of sex and your moans spurring him on to get drunk on you. no thought or calculation went into it, just pure unaltered passion and need to make you undone.

“ah, fuck, g-good boy!” you panted and began lightly grinding your cunt against his face, reaching out to scratch at his floppy golden ears. “doing so well for me!” the stimulation had your mind all fuzzy and almost numb as you continued to cry out words to praise, his actions becoming more erratic with everything you said.

no matter how many times he’s done this, he’s still so goddamn messy. his lack of self-control has your juices spilling down his chin and onto the expensive silk sheets below, just like a starving dog would when it’s able to feast at last.

his tongue kept assaulting your entrance, swirling around and curling against that spongy spot that sent electricity up your spine. he felt your thighs twitch and wrap around his head with the end of his blonde hair tickling the skin, driving him more into you and telling him that you needed just a bit more of a push.

in just a few more seconds, your vision sparked white as you climaxed and made a mess all over his lower face, arching your back as you flooded his lower face. he still licked away at your sweetness even when your legs loosened their hold on him, riding out your orgasm until you told him (nearly begged him with how pussydrunk he was) to stop.

when he finally pulled back, panting and out of breath with a flushed face, you could see a white splatter on his muscles indicating that he was already finished without any stimulation. he didn’t even realize that he came yet, his cock still rock-hard and begging for your attention.

you chuckled at his disheveled appearance and reached out to bring him closer, allowing him to join you on the bed instead of kneeling at the foot of it. “aw, does the puppy want a reward for being good?” you almost audibly laughed at how promptly he nodded his head, leaning into your touch to rest on top of you and begin to not-so-subtly rut into your leg. he really is a good puppy even though he’s acting like a bitch in heat for you, but that’s what happens when the mafia boss is madly in love.

#📜. her works #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji smut #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #luca kaneshiro smut #luxiem #luxiem x reader #luxiem smut