#she should only have white hair and blue lipstick

[arabian-batboy]

Aside from that short story where they tried to make her a villain, I’m really surprised that DC never did anything with Nora/Mrs. Freeze character. 

#on a side note the blonde hair and blue skin they gave her was so ugly #she should only have white hair and blue lipstick #I wouldn't mind to read a story about her but I don't know what I want it to be #maybe a story where she's freed from her illness #but then something happens to her husband and then HE has to be frozen to not die #and she takes his place and become the new Mrs Freeze #who swears to not give up on her husband the same way he never gave up on her? #but I do want some difference tho its not like I want her to just be a female version of Mr Freeze #thoughts? #Nora Fries #victor fries

[earthtooz]

Just an idea that popped in my head (because i love you and your writing) but how do you think gojo would react when he's sitting on couch, waiting for reader to get ready so they can attend a party,and she emerges from their room,wearing the sexiest red dress and red lipstick?

Like,one min gojo is tapping on his phone,the next minute he's choking on air 😂

no mentions of reader's pronouns but reader wears a dress and makeup, suggestive, kinda deviated from what anon originally wanted, gojo is dumb and in love nevertheless.

“if you don’t kiss me this very second, i might die.”

“excuse me?”

“if you don’t kiss me this very second, i. might. die,” gojo parrots, putting more emphasis on his words, as his eyes burn blue flames of determination and unwavering grit.

a laugh slips past your lips, “you’re being silly, satoru,” is all you say before walking past him and towards the genkan where you put out the red heels you were planning on wearing tonight.

“but i’m being serious!” he whines, “you don’t want me to die now, do you?”

“what started this?” reaching down to put on your shoes, your boyfriend is beside you in an instant, holding out his hand for you to grab as if acting like a glorified stand. you take it easily, putting your weight onto him to balance. 

“when you’re looking this irresistible i can’t help it, and it’s a red dress, what do you want from me?” the white-haired whistles before bending down to his knees when you’re back on two feet. his hands then reach for the straps of your shoes, wrapping them up for you. “is it so selfish of me to keep you all for myself?”

he kisses your calf when he’s done, standing back to his full height. “well, you are a selfish man, after all.”

“only when it comes to you,” gojo reaches for your hand to place on his cheek. his other hand tightens around your waist, gentle with his grip, but fully possessive. “you’re too gorgeous for my health, i’ll die of jealousy before lack of attention.” 

you laugh, drunk on love and affection as gojo pouts at you. “oh satoru.”

“what?” exclaims the sorcerer. “you’re going to capture everyone’s hearts. i don’t like it when other men look at you.” 

“is that my fault?”

“no, never your fault, baby. i’ll fight off anyone who looks too long.”

you smile at him, eyes crinkling. “what am i gonna do with you?”

“stay with me forever?”

“if you’re good enough, sure.”

“how about a kiss, then?”

pinching his cheeks, you take a step away from him, breaking the hazy, lovestruck daydream that gojo had entered. “not when i have this lipstick on.”

(he takes a second to admire your retreating figure, only looking away when you send him a pointed and unimpressed look, to his dismay.) 

“why not?” his tone is one of utter distraught and like a magnet, the sorcerer finds himself drawn towards standing beside you again, hand snaking up to hold your hips as you check your appearance in the hallway mirror.

“it will leave a lipstick mark, duh.”

“maybe that’s what i want.”

“you’re awful.”

“just one kiss, please?”

“but it will ruin the makeup.”

“i’ll die otherwise, y/n, won’t you save me?” 

you scoff. “fine. one kiss.”

the look of pure joy on gojo’s face could rival the brightness of the sun and you wonder how you could ever learn to resist this man’s charms. turning around in his grasp, you pull him in for a kiss that fills his lungs with absolute adoration, a warmth that threatens to melt him into a puddle at your feet. 

his heart sinks when you pull away, and hits rock bottom with a ‘thud’ when you don’t return to him.

“hey! that was too short.”

“makeup, satoru,” you lecture pointedly. “we should probably leave now, don’t want to be too late-”

“-i think we just don’t go at all.” 

“that would be impolite and rude, we can’t-”

“-we can,” he murmurs before sealing your lips with his, this time with a lot more passion and weight than you likes. however, not one part of you moves to push him away, giving in to his touch despite how you know you shouldn’t. 

“satoru, you’re going to have lipstick marks all over you,” you reason against his lips.

instead, he kisses you harder. “just what i want.” 

when his hand bunches up your red dress in his grasp, you know you’ve lost this fight, bending to gojo’s wishes under him.

you arrive looking prim and proper whilst your lover’s neck is littered with kiss marks. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#MEDIOCRE WRITING ONCE AGAIN FOR GOJO SATORU LMFAOOOOOOOOOO ROFL whatever #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojou satoru x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #earthtooz: JJK

[costelloschoice]

Wedding Night

-Mizu x fem reader! -warnings: nsfw, pulling off the biggest W and getting married to Mizu, bottom! Mizu, top! reader, toys, pussy eating, dom and sub dynamic -minors don't read or I'll tell your mommy -comments and reblogs are appreciated (she's so cute in the gif waaa)

She never thought she would be doing this.

Getting married this first time was something she never imagined for herself, but here she is again. But this time she knows this is the real deal.

"This is it.." Mizu whispered, kneeling on the zabuton below her. This scene was so familiar to her in another life. A small saucer plate of sake in her hands, the scent of the fermented rice filled her nostrils.

She looks over at you, her wife. She feels a sense of pride just looking at you but also feel nervous. She wants this to work out, she prayed this would. But you look so beautiful in white, you look like you were meant to be a beautiful bride. To think she came this far after what life has put on her, it all felt like a reward.

You made a promise to her before this small ceremony. A promise she never had to be a man after this moment. She didn't have to pretend to be someone else. But Mizu just had to push through a bit more to be able to be free from this cage forever. Of course, if it was her choice to revert back, you would accept her decision. But you knew deep down she wouldn't.

A small bell rung three times, indicating you both to sip from your glasses. The strong taste of the rice wine went down her throat smoothly, a strong burning sensation heating up the back throat. She tried not to focus too much on the taste as she turned to face you.

You also tried to ignore the burning feeling of the sake. You never liked warm sake, you thought it tasted like dirt. Your body shivered at the heat growing in your throat, almost feeling like the heat was in your ears now, but you turned to smile at Mizu, your now wife.

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

Your relationship was not at all how others thought it to be. Of course, they also thought Mizu was man. But no one knows how much she loves to be your own personal whore.

Yes, she may present as someone who would be dominate, to make you submit to her and take what she had to give you. When, in fact, you knew how to make her melt and be putty in your hands. The samurai was actually a sensitive girl who would do anything to make you happy, as would you for her.

Carefully, she applied the white makeup to her skin, the kabuki brush evenly spreading the foundation to her makeup. The fine brushes applying the red lipstick to her lips and her eye lips. The candle lit room gave her a sense of calmness as she applied her makeup. She knew tonight was going to be special. You two have already had sex many of times, but now you're married, it's different to her. The sex tonight will be special to her. The beautiful and intricate design of her wedding dress was too good to be true. It was beautiful and picked out by you. Secretly, Mizu loved being dressed up by you, as if she was your doll.

Once she finished her makeup, she only waited now. Mizu took in deep breaths, her fingers tapping her knees. She waited for you patiently. Mizu looked up at a mirror across your shared room. She made sure everything was perfect, a hand running over her intricate hairstyle.

"Wait long?" you said, voice deep yet soft while opening the door to the room.

Mizu turned to see you. Your hair was down and out of the hairstyle from earlier and also wearing a men's styled yukata which was hers. Mizu smiled before shaking her head 'no'. Making your way towards her, Mizu turns her body completely to face you. She looked so beautiful on her knees in front of you, like a good little bride should be.

"You look beautiful, love..." you smiled, your thumb and index fingers catching her chin to look up at you. Her stunning blue eyes never failed to make your heart skip a beat, she was truly your weakness. "Such beautiful girl..." you commented before your thumb ran over her red lips. Mizu's breathed hitched at your words and actions, but let you do whatever you wanted. Soon, slipping your thumb into her mouth. her eyes fluttered closed, and she knew better, then sucked on the digit without being told, she knew how to pleasure you. Her tongue ran under the finger and twirled around, sucking and moaning at the feeling of something in her mouth.

As she continued you said, "Eager, I love it..." which caused her groan, looking up at up with those blue eyes you love so much. The eyes that held so many emotions and feelings. The eyes that made her different from everyone else you ever met. Soon you pulled out of her mouth, "Are you ready...?"

"Y-Yes..."Mizu breathed out, nodding her head. She watched you begging to undo the belt to the yukata. Eyes widening, she looks at the strap on you already had on. Your breast sat beautifully, your strap stood up proud, and your cunt was glistening just below the sexy toy attached to you. It's like you were the definition of lust. You gently grab her face to place her mouth on the tip, letting her use context clues to figure out the rest.

She closed her eyes as he headed bobbed up and down on the strap, a free hand moving to rub your clit between your lips. She knew that you couldn't feel her lips on the cock, but it was such a beautiful sight. Your moans were a reward for rubbing your pussy, "G-Good girl...Keep that up," you panted, smiling as her finger pushes inside you.

Removing her mouth completely from the strap, she quickly put your leg over her shoulder to kiss your lips with hers. Her nimble tongue flicking your clit as her long and slender finger works your g-spot. You moan loudly, trying to have some composure and stay in control. You look down to see how eager she was to suck on your throbbing clit.

"You like how that pussy tastes?"

"Mhmm.."

"Speak up when you talk to me,"

you snapped, making her pull away, her baby blue eyes look up at you. Lipstick and foundation around her chin smudged, "Yes, mistress..." Mizu pants, going back to tasting you. She added a second finger, curling them to rub the special spot. Your moans grew louder, your leg shaking as you feel your nerves being worked on.

"Enough..." you said, quickly pulling away. Mizu was pushed back on her ass, looking up at you. Taking off the rest of your clothes, you kneeled down to remove her dress. She wore nothing under her dress but a necklace you gave her when your first started to date, it was small but meant so much to her. She helped you get her out of the dress, tossing the clothes to the side. You quickly flipped Mizu on her back, letting her look up at you. Grabbing her by the waist, you lift up to rest her legs over your shoulders. You immediately started to taste her, your tongue running between her lips.

She was flushed, embarrassed from the position. Her moans were loud and whiny. Your tongue over her sensitive, hard clit felt amazing. Biting her bottom lip, her hands fondled her own breast. Her fingers pinching her nipples as you dip your tongue in and out of her wet hole.

"O-Oh yes...Please don't stop, mistress...my pearl..." Mizu panted. Even though this was a dom and sub situation, the loving nickname for you slipped out. It made you smile, making you work even harder to make her finish. One arm wrapped around her waist as the other moved to rub her clit, your tongue still dipping in and out.

Her groans and whimpers never faltered, her legs starting to shake from the pleasure you have her, "Oh...! Mistress I'm going to...c-cum! Please let me finish, mistress...!" she begged, looking up at you. You watched her pathetic facial expressions as you ate her out. Pulling away quickly, you only said one word.

"Cum..."

She immediately thanked you, moaning loudly while thanking her mistress for the release of pleasure. Her legs shook on your shoulders, making you smile. You rubbed her thigh as she came down from the high of an orgasm, "Good girl...you taste amazing," you praised, cleaning up the mess you made.

You took her legs off your shoulder, laying her down. She pulls you in for a few kisses, wanting to taste herself from your lips, "Mistress..." she moaned softly, her fingertips grazing your breast. Her hand cupping your breast, feeling the softness of your chest. The kisses between you two help her relax again, grounding her in the moment.

Soon she was on her hands and knees, instructed by you. She arched her back as your hands ran up her back, your hands feeling the curve of her spine. The candles in the room made it hotter, creating a thin layer of sweat. The smoke of the incense floating up, the ash growing by the minute.

She felt the tip of the strap on run over her slit, her breath hitched in her throat, "You want this, love? You want to be fuck like the whore you are for me? You want to please me, right?" you teased, making her groan. "Yes mistress, I want to please you..." she said, looking back at you, earning her a smack on the ass.

"Good girl," you said before slowly pushing in. You always made sure to be careful when first pushing in, as to not hurt Mizu. This is supposed to be enjoyable, not torture. Her soft moans were always the indicator on her feelings. you focused on them as you slowly thrusted in and out, trying to find the rhythm to move for her.

Mizu loved the feeling of you inside. The fullness of your strap made her warm, safe even. She knew it was you and knew you would never hurt her. She felt you start to move faster, making her moan loudly. This made you grab her hips, pulling her back into you as thrust into her.

"Mistress...You feel so good," she moaned, eyes rolling back as she focuses on the thrusts. The sound of skin slapping together filled the room, moans making a perfectly harmony with the it. You smiled and you thrusted, looking at her ass jiggling a bit every time you thrusted. You placed a hand on her shoulder, making the thrusts shorter but harder.

"Open your eyes...Look in the mirror," you instructed, making her look in the mirror. She felt butterflies in her stomach as she watched you thrust into her, "Look at you, taking it so well," praised, smiling at her through the mirror.

"You like this?"

"Yes mistress,"

"Good girl...You love taking my big cock, huh? Feeling so full by your wife?"

"Yes mistress..! You make me feel so full and good, please fuck me harder,"

She begged, making you do so. She watched her face as you thrusted harder. Mizu looked like pathetic whore in a brothel being fucked fora cheap thrill. But your praises and smiles reminder her that she was your wife, your own personal whore.

"You want to cum? Finish around this fat dick?" you asked with a deep voice, focusing on hard, fast, thrusts. Mizu moaned loudly, babbling the words 'yes' and 'please' like it was the only two she knew. Once you gave her the okay to finish, she screamed your name. Not 'mistress', your name, just how you like. it.

You watched her face as she was pushed over the edge of pleasure again. She looked so beautiful. You know she'll never see the beauty you do. Pulling out, you held her close in your lap. You stroked her face, praising her as she rested in your lap and regained her composure. Even with her training, she was a slave to pleasure, and she was a slave to yours, "You did so well, Mizu, you're such a good wife..."

After an hour, the two of you laid in bed. The candles were long put out, the incense burnt out completely. You smiled as you looked at her, "I love you, Mizu..." you whispered, kissing her softly. Mizu giggled and smiled back. "I love you more...".

"You're lucky I let you cum so easily," you teased.

"You love me too much not to let me get my way," she joked, giggling before kissing you.

She couldn't have dreamed of a more perfect wedding night.

#mizu x reader #mizu x you #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eye samurai x you #blue eye samurai x reader #bes #wlw love #bes x reader #bes fanfic

[jordyn-degas]

𝕊𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕨𝕖'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕥

Characters: Roronoa Zoro x fem! reader

Warnings: first time writing for him - be patient with me; light smut - MDNI; Zoro fucks you against a door because why the hell not?; yes, there is some alcohol involved; yes, we also have some soft Zoro thrown in there;

Base: crew mates; time skip; mutual pining; hidden feelings; everyone knows except them; some jealousy; clumsy confessions;

Taglist: @uchihabbynic - there is literally no way in hell i'm not tagging you in this piece 😂 as a wise character would say "Nic-senpaaaaaai!" 😂

Another island. Another battle in which the Straw Hats have emerged victorious. Another night surrounded by incredibly grateful residents, dancing and singing around a beautifully assembled bonfire while being offered humongous amounts of food, drinks and sweets. For pirates that refused to be called or considered heroes, you surely enjoyed the rewards.

“Do you think I can get his attention?” golden hair strands twirled in between manicured fingers, voice faltering with each note as nervousness washed over it — two women basked into the bonfire’s glow, gazes set on a very specific, yet unattainable man.

“Why wouldn’t you?” another raised an eyebrow, lips smacking together softly for the freshly applied lipstick to settle — fingers rushing through baby blue locks, ruffling them a bit for a more natural look. “He would be so lucky to get the attention of such beautiful women as we are.”

There wasn’t any trace of a lie in her words, both women of a beauty hard to deny. Smooth, silky skin unraveled from under the bit of clothing they both wore, bodies formed from nothing but perfect curves that would melt a man into submission in no less than a second. Adjusting their skimpy clothing, conversation of how to get in the man’s good graces kept pinching your ears to the point of annoyance. It did not even occur to you when an unwilling chuckle slipped, two pairs of eyes holding smoldering fires turning to the sound.

“Something funny?” the blue haired one asked, noticing quickly how she was the more confident one, annoyance dripping down her tongue.

“He doesn’t care.” short reply followed by a lazy shrug was offered as you didn’t meet their gazes, solely trained on the man having the time of his life while holding a bottle. “Women are not a priority.”

“She’s ..” the blonde swallowed hard, immediately lowering her head in an attempt to show respect. “.. a Straw Hat.”

“And?” arrogant amusement peeked from behind a pair of pearly whites that outstretched into a smirk. “Just because you weren’t able to catch his eye, which I don’t blame him for, it doesn’t mean we won’t.”

Before the sharp reply you prepared could be released, two bottles of sake flew by and landed into the hands of the two women. Surprise was written all over their faces, quickly looking in between the person standing behind you and the alcohol.

“Those should be enough to have Zoro look at you for longer than three seconds.” coldness laced Nami’s voice, an arm sneaking around your shoulders protectively — feather-like steps followed shortly thereafter, Robin joining in with an expression of such calmness it could bring down to their knees the most ardent adversary.

With a last mocking laugh, the two women left to pursue the only goal for the night: Roronoa Zoro.

Gaze lingered after them, hips swaying towards where the rest of the crew sat – Sanji’s eyes popping out of their sockets the moments the two beauties arrived. Golden earrings glimmered into the fire’s light as Zoro's head tilted slightly upwards to see where the sake bottles were coming from, eyes sharply flickered along the women’s form before meeting yours across the bonfire. It lasted more than any of you could count, abruptly cut off by the blue haired woman that sat down as if knowing perfectly where to. 

“Here.” Nami’s tongue clicked, placing another bottle into your hand. “Tonight we drink and party.”

“Blind leading the blind.” Robin offered a small smile, positioning herself enough to cover the scene where your eyes stayed glued on, feminine laughter coming with way too much ease.

“What do you mean?” brows dipped into a game of confusion, not daring to open a subject that could set ablaze the entire island – slight pang of guilt hitting your chest knowing what was deeply hidden from two of your best friends.

“Y/N.” name melodically slipping past Robin’s lips as her head cocked a bit to the side, bright blue eyes holding in them a familiar glint. “We know.”

“You’ll have to be more ..” fingers unscrewing the bottle’s cork and throwing it to the ground before quickly taking three consecutive gulps, feeling right away the alcohol hitting into the pits of your stomach along with the suspicion of what Robin was hinting at. “.. specific.”

“Really?” playful smirk curved Nami’s lips, arm tightening its grip around your shoulders, nose poking ever so slightly a cheek that felt hot to the touch. “You’re in love with Zoro.”

Each crack that was carefully sealed with each minute, day, week and year passed into his presence, reopened in a matter of seconds when the sentence you hid yourself from was uttered. Eyes snapped wide open, taking a step backwards while stumbling a bit over your own feet, the feeling of airways constricting as the sake rolled down the throat faster than needed. 

“I think you were too specific.” Robin chuckled lightly, steadying you on your own two feet while Nami patted away the violent cough rocking your burning lungs.

“I was right though.” Nami casually shrugged, both witnessing fingers clutching tightly around the bottle, jaw clenching as it pulsated under the skin, faint blush pinching your cheeks. “We all kinda knew for at least a year now. It’s not as hidden as you both think.”

“Both? Nami .. not both.” head shaking slowly, you sighed deeply as bitterness pinched the roof of your mouth. “Just me. And it’s fine.”

“That’s not ..” Robin began saying, quickly catching on to what you were trying to say and wanting to dismiss it.

“Can we not make a big deal out of it right now? Tomorrow’s another day.” arm stretching out towards your best friends with a small smile. “Tonight we drink and party.”

Nami and Robin looked at each other, both wanting to protest against your previous statement before realizing this was neither the time or the place. Laughter ensued, bottle passed around to seal the secret with the liquid that was bound to unravel what has been left unsaid for years on end. Arms thrown around their shoulders, you made your way towards the rest of the Straw Hats, passing right past the two women that were trying a bit too hard to get into Zoro’s good graces as his eye followed you.

“Y/N.” Zoro’s fingers wrapped around your wrist the moment you walked by him, abruptly stopping while a heavy knot formed into the stomach. “Drink with me.”

“Not tonight.” sharp reply came almost instantaneously, gaze kept forward and settling on Sanji and Franky that looked at the two of you with wide eyes filled with surprise – never before refusing to drink with Zoro, especially after such a glorious victory, always inseparable. “You already have great company.”

Every single muscle in Zoro’s body hardened, jaw clenching shut hearing the notes of your usually calm, kind voice drenched in a coldness he only heard in battles or when Sanji was overstepping. Head tilted upwards, dark gaze falling on an empty expression, calmly watching how you took another sip from the bottle, its content pinching your cheeks even more with a pinkish shade. The tension was of an uncommon heaviness, your crew mates watching the entire ordeal in complete silence, Luffy pulling out of his mouth a large bone with a “pop”.

“Is there any room for me there, Sanji?” just like that, all the coldness dissipated into the air as a warm smile graced your features, wrist slipping away from Zoro’s grip a bit too harshly for his taste. “Drink with me!”

“That was harsh.” Franky mumbled while moving to the side to allow for you to sit in between him and Sanji, everyone else resuming their antics, feeling their eyes darting back and forth between you and Zoro for a bit longer. 

“That was perfect.” Sanji grinned from one ear to the other, arm comfortably swinging around your shoulders before raising his voice. “Y/N, we’re going to have so much fun tonight!”

Night progressed with music and laughter swirling into the air, stars and moon being witnesses to Brook’s intoxicating notes complimenting Luffy, Usopp and Chopper’s shenanigans that had the residents filled with pure joy and a fun not lived in too long. As bottles fell, so did your worries, every single thought or feeling washing with each generous gulp of sake, accepting invites to dance with the island’s residents, laughing and forgetting, even for one night, where your heart truly was.

When one man became too many, Franky threw you over his shoulder while Luffy and Nami booed him for being a fun killer. Everyone knew that being a lightweight wasn’t one of your traits, recognising with ease that it was one of those moments when letting loose was the best option – simply tipsy and pushing as deep as possible any feeling related to the one that seemed to be unable to leave your mind.

“Franky!” frown dipping into a pout, arms crossed against the chest as you eyed the cyborg with a glint of vengeance in your eyes. “I can handle myself.”

“And the last thing we need is a swordsman out of control.” Franky barked back immediately, finger pointing so close it could touch your nose. “Sake or men.”

“Sake.” you mumbled, nose scrunching up, tip of the shoe tapping lazily against the ground. “Bottle.”

“Atta girl!” Franky laughed loudly as he turned around to leave and bring the only thing that would keep you under control at the moment.

“Hmpf! The audacity!” quiet growls coming out in waves filled with displeasure, aggressively blowing a hair strand out of your face. “Who cares what Zoro thinks? He can go fu ..”

Words died out into the throat the moment a step was taken backwards, back hitting abruptly a hard surface that had your muscle tense in a split second. Warmth engulfed you from head to toe feeling an arm wrapping around the waist, a low, deep chuckle you knew all too well brushing past the ear in waves carrying amused notes. Instinctually, your hand flew upwards, pressing softly against the one that held you tightly. Heart jumped into your throat with a never felt before speed, eyes closing for a brief moment to inhale the familiar scent of steel that replaced the Summer air, grabbing and pulling mercilessly at every single sense you possessed.

“You were saying?” Zoro rasped into your ear, eyes snapping wide open realizing with how much ease you began melting against him.

“Nothing that concerns you.” voice danced between warmth and coldness, fighting to get a hold of the person you were when not around him.

“I heard my name.” arm tightened its grip around the waist, being pulled even more into him than ever before while his other hand found your left one, fingers dangerously close to intertwining.

“You heard wrong.” another sharp reply slipped past your lips, mustering up the strength to evade the most comfortable grip in which you have ever been caught, quickly taking a step forward. 

Forgetting for a mere second who the person you were talking to was, guard was let down enough for Zoro to grab your wrist and hold you in place, feeling his dark gaze burning into the back of your head. Small smile forced its way towards the corners of your mouth, fighting to stretch them out, teeth nipping into the inner cheek in an attempt to keep yourself as grounded as possible.

“Let me go, Zoro.” annoyed sigh made its way into the air, wrist wiggling into its grasp.

“Why are you so mad at me, Y/N?” the question you’ve been avoiding being thrown out into the open, wincing slightly hearing how his voice danced between anger and calmness.

“Just because I chose to drink with Sanji, and not you, it doesn’t mean I’m mad.” you chuckled lightly, choosing to play the card of an innocence he never bought into. “He deserves a chance from time to time.”

“I’ll ask again.” this time his voice dropped more than an octave, detecting with ease the threatening notes that always made your skin crawl when going at each other’s throats for whatever reason that would be squashed in less than a minute. “Why?”

Before another, either mocking or smart, answer could be uttered, Zoro quickly tugged at your arm, body being spun around in the blink of an eye. Palm slapped quietly against his broad, tanned chest, the arm which he pulled at being locked behind your back with his own, breath hitching as surprise washed over your expression the moment his satisfied one met yours.

That is when the answer to the “Why so bold in public?” question came – half-lidded eyes stared completely lost into yours, cheeks pinched with the usual alcohol blush, his usually slicked back hair now slightly ruffled as its aspect, along with its uncanny green shade, reminded you of why Sanji called him Moss Head, and an arrogant smirk was the Zoro facing you tonight.

Drunk Zoro — a sight to behold.

“I- ..” whisper of a sentence that never came faltered, too enthralled by the man holding you closer than ever before as eyes filled with want couldn’t stop from tracing along the sharpness of Zoro’s jaw, lips parting while your gaze darted across his – fingers twitched against the warmth of his chest, slowly moving upwards until they brushed across the protruding collarbone.

“Y/N.” Zoro’s voice faltered into a whisper with each letter of your name, eye closing feeling the softness of your skin against his, deep inhale being taken – as if a spell was breaking, hand stopped before it could reach his face, eyes snapping wide open, erratic heartbeats breaking out loud enough for both of you to hear.

“You were busy.” snapping harshly, words coming out in a hiss, eyes darkening as you attempted to stare down the man you never could. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Busy?” Zoro’s brows fell into confusion before being taken over by a brief surprise, corners of his mouth twitching into a blooming amusement that decided to take the form of a smirk. “Hm.”

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Roronoa.” low growl erupted from the back of your lungs, swift movement changing the dynamic, forearm pressing against his throat. “And let me go.”

It was beyond impossible to maintain a defensive posture with the way Zoro’s dark gaze cut right through the core of your soul, too strong to wriggle out of his grasp while feeling being pulled even closer into the body that provided a warmth and comfort you’ve been dreaming of for far too long now. Breathing picked up its pace, heartbeats slamming against the rib cage and carving their way out, his head dipping so close lips ghosted over each other.

“You’re not going back to them.” Zoro whispered as his half-lidded gaze traced the movements of your quivering lips — danger blooming into his dark iris at the mere hint of the men surrounding you not too long ago. 

Alcohol tainted breaths embraced each other, Zoro’s right hand releasing yours from its strong grasp only to wrap around the waist, flushing your bodies together in a breathless closeness. His ever watchful eye began memorizing every imperceptible gesture of the muscles, quietly observing the haziness that began settling over your features as his left hand cupped your face, tilting it upwards a bit more only for the thumb to brush innocently along your lower lip. Shaky breath slipped into the air, each second taking away from you the ability to stay grounded into reality, dancing along the fine line that led into insanity.

Heavily intoxicated on the scent of the man you have secretly loved for as long as you could remember, mind barely able to debate between “should I?” or “I shouldn’t”, electric shockwave had your blood rushing with an unmatched speed the moment Zoro’s other hand swiftly moved away from your face to travel along the body, palm pressing against the small of your back before expertly smoothing over the curvature of your ass.

“Zoro ..” choked out whisper, desperately hanging between confusion and a hidden plea for more, brushed against his feverish lips. “What are you doing?”

Instead of being offered a sound, sane reply, you were met with fingers dipping into the flesh, Zoro’s hand grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing far from gentle. Lips parted to let out a breathless, quiet moan that almost went unnoticed by the man.

Almost.

“Settling whatever this is.” Zoro answered the question while taking a step back, releasing your body from his strong grasp and stretching out an arm, palm all open and welcoming.

It was blatantly obvious what was about to happen, yet you could not stop taking his hand, you could not fight the rush of hotness that ravaged your body from head to toe, blood rushing through the veins at the mere thought of finally reaching the point you’ve thought about for so long while cumming all alone, all over your fingers. With each step taken towards the house where all the Straw Hats were going to spend the night, your core dripped heavily onto the underwear’s material and drenching it beyond anyone’s wild imagination. After all this time, you knew Zoro better than the back of your own hand and, the heavy tension, the burning gaze, the alluring rasp with which he talked were dead giveaways, witnessing some whenever a woman was caught in his trap – he was either going to fuck you or kill you.

There was no in between.

“Settle it how?” the dumbest question you could think of slipped out, feet stepping inside the house, Zoro’s grip on your own hand tightening hearing it, walking through the darkness while climbing the stairs to the first floor – third bedroom on the left.

“You were jealous.” the force with which the words fell off his lips slapped the breath out of you, mouth agape as the door clicked shut behind, back resting against it as Zoro’s arms were crossed against the chest, dark eye solely focused on your shocked expression. “Why?”

“I could say the same thing.” out of fear of looking weak, a mere attempt at regaining yourself, choosing to raise an eyebrow rather than answering straight. “Which means, Zoro .. Why?”

“Because you’re mine.” the reply came with a venomous possessivity you’ve never encountered before, at the same time also with a baffling ease that pushed the knees into a trembling motion.

“I’m .. what now?” walls sprung, protecting any bit of the feelings you have been trying so heavily to hide, laughter escaping into the darkness, trying to act as if the moonlight did not fall right on Zoro’s not so amused expression, dark gaze glinting with determination. “Since when?”

In the blink of an eye and one swift motion later, you found yourself propped against the door, feet no longer touching the ground as the legs were wrapped around Zoro’s waist, mini-skirt riding upwards along the thighs while the strap of your tank top fell off the shoulder. Chest began heaving heavily, one of his arms wrapped around the waist for support while the other worked its way upwards, fingers tangling into the hair.

“Since we’ve met.” Zoro’s reply came as a whisper, warm breath pinching your lips as they hovered over his – truth spilled into the silence, chin trembling holding back all the pent up emotions.

“Are you?” dancing between reality and insanity, asking the question you wanted to hear a clear, truthful, spoken answer from, both separated right now only by a simple decision. “Mine?”

Zoro’s gaze darted from your face to your lips and back again, body filled with nothing but goosebumps at the feeling of having the woman he has been in love with since he can remember into his arms, mind twisted with never ending thoughts of ravaging every part of you until there was nothing left to give. Even with an alcohol induced mindset, Zoro always knew how to keep to himself, how to not reveal more than needed. However, seeing with how much ease your lower lip quivered, holding back what he thought to be so much time wasted in bottling up feelings, taking in the beauty in which your eyes bathed while silently pleading for an answer, he decided that if there was a person that was allowed to see him unravel, that was you.

“I’m yours.” Zoro swallowed the heavy knot formed into his throat, melting against your body as each muscle relaxed to allow you to understand that there was more than meets the eye. “Since we’ve met.”

The answer you’ve been waiting for far too long – everything needed and more.

Letting go, in a split second lips melted against each other, arms wrapping tightly against Zoro’s neck, bodies completely flushed together as his fingers lost themselves into your hair, gripping at each strand as if afraid of losing what was right in front of him. Tongue swiped across the lower lip, granting easy access into your mouth, not even fighting for the dominance you’d usually challenge him on a daily basis – you were his for the taking.

With each passing second, hunger surfaced over the passion, panting and teeth clashing in a desperate attempt to taste each other even more than possible. Arms fell off Zoro’s shoulders, traveling down the chest, not shying away for a single second when your hands worked over the clothing, one pushing it off his body while the other reached for what you wanted where it was needed the most. Mouthwatering hardness came in contact with your palm, skins separated by nothing but material and a guttural groan was released, one that had you clench painfully around nothing. 

“Impatient.” Zoro’s very particular chuckle, one that signaled danger, had you freezing – hand abruptly stopping from sizing him up, mouth agape, half-lidded gaze settling on his lips.

Fingers untangled from your hair, brushing across the sensitive skin of your neck before settling on the chest, being pushed backwards and leaning against the door once again.

It was impossible to look away from the beauty this man so easily displayed – defined muscles only Gods were said to be having, the broadness of his shoulders you found absolutely delicious were in full view, abdomen relaxing and contracting with each push of Zoro’s attempt to control the last bit of sanity he could hang onto right now as it fell into that, oh, so delicious, sculpted V-line, jawline of a sharpness that was not for the fainthearted, blush pink lips glistening with the remnants of your hungry kisses, half-lidded, dark gaze settled on yours along with the mess of a green hair from what had ensued so far.

Godly, you thought.

Too entrapped by the man haunting your dreams, there was no warning when his fingers hooked into the material of your tank top and pulled mercilessly, tearing it in one swift motion. Breasts bounced lightly when being released from their confinement, pebbled nipples coming abruptly in contact with the air, eyes snapping wide open at the gesture while a gasp erupted. Head cocked slightly at the sight, Zoro licked his lips hungrily before a smirk took over, taking a moment to admire the image in front of him, one he believed to be a whole lot better than whatever he imagined while fisting his cock at the thought of you.

“Stop staring.” you huffed, blush dusting the cheeks, one you knew was bright enough to outshine the moon, while playfully flicking his golden earrings.

“You were doing the same a minute ago.” Zoro grinned from one ear to the other, watching with a deep pleasure how you began squirming.

Opening your mouth in an attempt to be a smart ass, words died in your throat, being taken over by a moan the moment his mouth came in contact with your pebbled bud, tongue flicking playfully at it while his other hand gave equal attention to the other. Head fell backwards against the door, chest being pushed upwards, further into Zoro’s ministrations that were engulfing your mind in a pleasure induced haze.

“Roronoa.” fingers scratched against his scalp to which Zoro groaned loudly, grabbing at his hair and pulling backwards, darkened eyes staring right into his, skin brimming with a fire only the two of you could feel, panting desperately while being met with an innocence that sent a shiver down the spine. “Fuck me.”

It was either pride or amusement that could be read on Zoro’s flushed face – whatever it was resulted in his clothing fully dropping on the floor, eyes falling on the spot that interested you the most. Quiet, wet slap had you shivering lightly, breathing quickening its pace while watching his hard, veiny cock in all its might, standing up to attention and forcing for your eyes to not cross noticing the slight curvature upwards that was surely going to hit exactly the right spot.

Arousal pooled even more into your panties, feeling how soaked they were, inner thighs drenched beyond reality, his cock’s angry tip leaking heavily in anticipation.

“Up here.” Zoro rasped, hand sneaking in between your legs, fingers hooking into the material and pulling it to the side – eyes meeting his, completely lost on the expectation of what was about to happen, you hastily worked on the skirt while bunching it all around the waist. “Fuck.”

The word slipped out of both of you at the same time, Zoro’s fingers finding themselves completely drenched in arousal when settling in between your folds. Arms wrapped around his shoulders when feeling one finger slipping in with an embarrassing ease while his thumb pressed playfully on your needy clit. Slow, lazy movements derailed your mind completely to fall over the edge, needy whimpers slipping into his mouth as lips met yet again. Surges of hotness and pleasure rushed along the veins, hips beginning to move on their own accord wanting more.

“You can take another, yeah?” Zoro’s own panting revealed itself as another finger was pushed inside, the desperation of your needy cunt sucking them in with ease – whimpers morphing into moans, hips being pushed even deeper onto thick fingers as the first praise of tonight was released. “Good girl.”

“Wa-ah!-nna cum.” you mumbled against his lips, feeling that familiar coil building tightly inside, hanging onto dear life for more, thumb circling, playing lazily with your puffy clit, fingers slipping against that, oh, so delicious spot. “P-please ..”

“I know, I know.” that all knowing smirk carving into Zoro’s features, mocking tonality coming to play while gritting his teeth for control, feeling the way your gummy walls clenched around his soaked fingers – in a split second emptiness filled you, whimper and a confused expression following. “Wanna have you cum on my cock.”

Heartbeats thumped violently against the rib cage, Zoro bringing his fingers drenched in your juices up to his lips before sliding them into his mouth, pulling out of you a shameless moan at the sight. It was as if fighting a force of nature, the gesture enough to have your coil snap, holding back painfully to not cum right there and then - so fucking good, the swordsman rasped, watching with satisfaction how you fought to remain sane.

Strong hands settled on the hips, Zoro aligning himself with your soaking core that was dripping down the inner thighs and onto the floor, droplets falling with quiet slaps at the contact with the wood. Foreheads pressed together, eyes never leaving the other’s face, rock hard cock rubbed in between your folds for lubrication, drenching him completely. 

Feeling the tip slowly pushing in, gasping with no sound at the burn of an unfamiliar stretch, eyes widened at the size that you had to accommodate with, zoning away from him. Even after seeing it in full earlier on, you were definitely not prepared for it.

“Eyes on me.” Zoro commanded, voice faltering from aroused to careful, calm even – your gaze focused back on him quickly, looking for a confirmation that you were alright, a brief nod following right after.

With each delicious inch, the burn of the stretch turned into pleasure, accommodating to Zoro’s size and length being a work you never thought was needed. Teeth rolled in between them his lower lip, whimpers slipping out until you were flushed completely against him. Jaw went slack when he bottomed out, feeling the twitch of his cock against your stretched out walls. A few slow, lazy strokes followed, both accommodating at a whole nother level, broken moans beginning to fall off each other’s lips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Zoro’s head fell backwards, fingers dipping into the flesh of your hips as he guided your body as he pleased, up and down the length you wanted for so long. “F-fuck ..”

“M-more ..” was the only thing you could say, pleading to be fucked beyond relief. “P-aah!-lease!”

Teeth grazed across the sensitive skin of Zoro’s neck the moment his pace picked up another level, nails digging into the flesh of his muscular back, leaving trails of ownership with each stroke, wet slaps bouncing off the walls. Lips latched onto the skin, sucking viciously until you stole another moan from him, love bite threatening to form by the time this was over. Every single time your needy cunt was clenching around Zoro’s length, another loud moan would slip into the air, filling you with a possessive satisfaction knowing it wasn’t because of someone else but because of you. He was unraveling right under, contracting on purpose just to hear that sweet sound coming out of the greatest swordsman.

“S-stop .. doing that!” Zoro barked annoyed, slamming into you aggressively, the loudest moan that was let out so far, finally making its appearance – clenching once more, fingers grabbed at the back of your head, pulling backwards until you were met with the cool wood of the door and a dark, hooded gaze. “Brat.”

Using the surface as leverage, angling you just right, Zoro’s arms went under your knees, spreading them beyond perfection as his gaze fell right on the spot where the two of you connected. Hands settled on your waist, fingers dipping forcefully into the flesh, squeezing an annoyed hiss from the woman that has been challenging him since they’ve met. A vicious smirk pinched his puffy lips, dragging his cock out slowly before slamming it deeply into your cunt.

“FUU-AAH!-CK!” the scream that plunged out of your lungs had Zoro’s cock twitch violently, watching how your body arched in pleasure.

“Rough, ha?” rasped chuckle came from the swordsman, hands wrapping around his wrists. “That’s my girl.”

What you thought felt absolutely amazing until now, turned into absolutely mind-blowing madness as Zoro began using your dripping hole as he deemed fit. Bewildering pace filled with a stamina fit for none other than him set the tone of how his hungry cock devoured your needy cunt. Clenched teeth could be seen between the moaning and the grunts he let out, sliding in and out like a starved man, watching almost drooling the way you were desperately sucking him in. It did not even matter at this point that the door was trembling violently in its hinges, the way he was capable of hitting into that perfect spot, tip kissing your cervix in the most delicious of ways.

Sweat trickled down Zoro’s body, glistening muscles flexing with each movement, licking his lips at the sight of the white, creamy ring forming at the base of his cock. Droplets of the same exhaustion essence dripped down in between your bouncing breasts, nails digging into the skin of Zoro’s wrist as the knot holding everything together was about to snap into millions of pieces.

“‘m gonna .. ahhh! fuck!” your moans began to be erratic, these last words being from the string of coherent ones as the rest came completely mumbled out, slurred even along with the squelching noises of a drenched out cunt sucking in the best cock it ever tasted. “ .. c-cum ..”

“C’mon .. shit!” Zoro grunted, holding you with only one hand while the other came in between trembling legs, thumb and index fingers settling on the clit, squeezing it gently between them before twisting it slightly. “Cum on my cock.”

“I w-wa-aah ah!-nt .. w-with me ..” barely audible words falling off your lips, unfocused eyes crossing from the pleasure the swordsman was inflicting on you. “Cum.”

Without thinking twice, the coil that has been burning heavily snapped in a split second, starstruck release washing over the both of you. Zoro slammed as deeply as possible into the depths of your cunt that was milking him for dear life and more, filling you up to the brim with his hot, creamy release, the pool of your violent orgasm erupting and drenching the man, dripping onto the floor in a never ending rain of droplets.

Heavy pants ensued into the darkness, silence embracing the both of you, Zoro wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling towards him until flushed completely against each other. Lips peppered hot kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, traveling upwards under the ear and finding their way across the cheek until met with your feverish ones. Lazy, yet needy, brief kisses adorned your lips as his spent member slipped out of your warmth, quiet whine being let out at the loss of contact.

“Look at me.” Zoro whispered calmly, warmth pinching the tonality of a usually deep, aggressive voice – you refused by hugging him tightly, knowing exactly what he will see once allowed to. “Y/N.”

Slight, brief shiver took over, one that did not go unnoticed by the swordsman as he frowned briefly at the unusual occurrence, thinking, at first, that you were just tired. Pressing another kiss on your temple, nose nudging at it as a sign that you could not hide forever. Taking a deep breath, body moved slightly backwards, coming face to face with the only man that you wanted to fuck for the rest of your life. Zoro’s eyebrows snapped upwards briefly, barely visible to the untrained eye. Not to you. That was because you knew exactly what he was seeing right now.

Past the messy hair, flushed cheeks, puffy lips and sweaty body, there was the loud thumping of a heart that was never going to be able to settle after tonight and a very specific glint that adorned your eyes.

You looked utterly and irremediably in love.

What you did not expect to see, disregarding the words you both said to each other before everything began tonight, was that Zoro had the same expression on his face. Knot formed into the throat, teeth nipping at the inner cheek noticing the blush that bloomed onto his usually stone cold cheeks. You were both staring at each other as if caught red handed, as if doing something that you were not supposed to when, in fact, you had absolutely no idea that this was going to be the best decision any of you could make in their entire lives.

“I’m in love with you.” courage came out of complete nowhere, pushing you to be the first one to speak, knowing who was the man you were talking to – Roronoa Zoro, the man that would never say it hurts, rather dying on his own two feet than admitting to a weakness. “I have been for as long as I can remember. Yes, I was jealous of the two women that came to you tonight. Yes, I danced with all those men in hopes of getting a reaction out of you. Clearly, it worked and ..”

“Y/N.” Zoro tried stopping the avalanche, noticing how you kept fidgeting into his arms, fingers playing with the golden earrings – something you always did when nervous, uncomfortable or deep in thought.

“And you don’t have to say anything.” you followed, palm cupping his cheek while the other thumb smoothed over the scar adorning his left eye. “I can see it perfectly already. Don’t force yourself to be someone you’re not just for the sake of me hearing the same words. Tonight was enough for me to realize that you’re in love with me too.”

Zoro stared, lips parted in surprise hearing the words that fell past the lips he was kissing not even a few minutes ago with a love he had never shown another. You were the person that knew him better than anyone, he could go to the lengths of saying that even better than Luffy himself. He knew he did not have to say it for you to understand that his heart was beating in the same ways as yours did.

However, what Zoro was going to do was to show you as better as he can, willing to learn how to make you as happy as he wished for you to be with him – love, something Roronoa Zoro never thought he would be able to be blessed with.

“Thank you.” the swordsman whispered, lips pressing against yours gently, softness enveloping your senses, foreheads leaning into each other as he pulled back.

“And that?” innocent chuckle bloomed into the air, your finger pointing at the bright love bite fully settled into the skin of his neck. “Those two better know who you belong to now.”

“God, woman ..” Zoro laughed loudly – a true, rare sight – while playfully slapping your ass to which you jumped slightly, letting out the same laugh. “You’re killing me.”

“Exactly!” you chirped, grinning from one ear to the other, while being carried towards the bathroom. “No one else is allowed to kill you also. If you ever decide to die, I’ll happily oblige and do it myself!”

✨ Reblogs & comments would be much appreciated ✨

© jordyn-degas — work to NOT be copied, posted or translated anywhere else

#roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro smut #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa #zoro smut #one piece smut #zoro x reader #zoro x you #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

The More You Give ❧ (Part VI)

Pairing | Eddie Munson x shy!reader

Warnings | 18+ minors and blank blogs don’t interact, bullying, discussions of anxiety, oral (f receiving), virginity loss, protected P in V sex.

Word Count | ~16,400 

A/N | Oh you won't be able to move for all the fluff. Cheeky shout-out to @heydreamchild for this post which made me lose my mind in the tags and think about Eddie's relationship with Wayne's mug collection.

Taglist (please don't ask to be tagged if you won't interact with the fic)

Previous Chapter

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 You screw your eyes shut instead of watching the ping pong ball continue its high arch over the remaining cups on the other side of the table. You hear it hit the floor, the barely suppressed scoff across from you at another missed shot. 

Your cheeks are burning, have been since you started this game. You open an eye to find May smiling at you encouragingly as she lines herself up for her turn. She’s more practised than you. Invited to more of these parties, asked to play more of these games. The ball flies from her hand and lands with a gentle splash in one of the three remaining cups in front of you, her expression now tinged with satisfaction. You can’t blame her, you’d look the same if you were good at any of this. You fish the ball out and sip the lukewarm beer for a second before forcing the rest of it down just to get this turn over with. 

“Sorry,” you murmur, handing the ball to your partner and stepping aside to let him take his turn. Safely at the corner of the table, you glance quickly at the clock on the other side of the room. It reads 11:03pm, and you wonder if you could negotiate heading home by eleven thirty. 

Not likely. 

When you’d walked through the door, shoulders pressed between both your friends, you had yourself convinced that you would have a good time tonight. Tipsy from the white wine your mom let you drink under her supervision, warm with joy from an early evening spent with May and Heather in your room. It’s your favourite part of going out; the hour or two before. When it’s just the three of you, with nobody else to perform for, you fit right back together as you always did. Swapping gossip, exchanging compliments. Painting Heather’s nails a soft pink, her steady hands painting yours in return. You worked on May’s make up, smiled shyly  into the mirror when she set your hair up the way you like it and told you with a pout how jealous she is of its texture. 

You listened to Heather, gentle and happy at seeing her boyfriend, at the flowers he’d brought her. You spoke to May about the film you should rent for your next movie night; a comedy with popcorn or a weepy chick flick with chocolate. You’d watched from your bed, grinning and heartsore while May leaned into Heather’s shoulder, serenading her while she applied her lipstick. Heather rolled her eyes fondly as May crooned into her ear, “I can’t fight this feeling anymore!” 

Later, head truly fuzzy from paint stripper vodka and lemonade, you’d screamed all the words to Power of Love with them. Hands in the air, hips swaying, content in the knowledge that, if everyone in the house has drank as much as you, none of them will care to remember how you danced and sang tonight. It was exactly as you wanted it to always be. With your friends, believing entirely, at least in the moment, that you still put each other first. That you were friends now not just because you used to be. 

Only, Heather’s boyfriend had appeared like a grey cloud in the blue sky of your evening. Before you knew it, she was settled under his arm on a couch at the other side of the room, sipping light beer and talking with the friends he’d brought back from college for the weekend. All boys you can’t stand, and know May can’t stand either. The last time you saw them, when May had told them proudly that you were well on your way to NYU to study Comparative Literature, you’d watched two of them make eye contact, sniggering with each other into their beer. You weren’t proud of yourself for adding that you still might do Chemistry, not that it had helped much. 

Soon after, May was called over by some cheer friends. She’d grasped your hand and pulled you along with her, both a blessing and a curse that she refuses to leave you out. Lacking some of your usual self-consciousness, both from your continual sips at your drink and the fact that Caroline, blessedly, hadn’t shown up, you’d managed a brief, fairly friendly chat with Tracy about whether she was wearing too much blush (she was) followed by how well the basketball team will do this year (hell if you know). 

Then, when Josh, a boy May has had a simmering crush on since you were freshmen, invited her over to play beer pong, you let her pull you with her again. And here you are, paired with this boy in green and white. Ethan flashes his white toothed smile every time you miss a shot on account of your shaking hands. A charming smile that tells you how girls might get into trouble on his account; girls like Caroline, girls like Erin. You wonder if it was that smile that made Erin follow him upstairs that night, that made Caroline fall back into his arms with little complaint, all the blame placed elsewhere. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, squeezing the top of your arm before turning his attention to the table. May smiles at you again as Josh chugs beer down in a quick gulp, sending you all the signs of gratitude that make you feel guilty for thinking almost exclusively about the ways you could leave soon.

When it’s your turn again, you take stock of the cups across from you. Two on your side, four on theirs, so with any luck this is your last turn. You watch the ball just brush the opposite rim of one of the cups, before bouncing lamely to the table. “Okay, that one was close.” Ethan says kindly, elbowing you.

“Nah, her head’s in the clouds,” Josh says with a smirk, catching the ball and bouncing it a couple times off the table. “Too busy thinking about…Munson, right? Would not have thought that was your type, but uh, I guess that explains why you wouldn’t let Andy-”

“Leave her alone, Josh,” May cuts in, leaning away from him with a scowl. You feel a rush around your ears, your heart in your throat. You like to forget this fact, but sometimes you’re reminded of it like seeing it written in bright red neon. Just about everybody knows what happened between you and Andy to varying degrees of detail, and they can all use it against you whenever they want. 

“It’s not that serious,” he says, the following laugh more defensive when May rolls her eyes. “You are dating the freak, right?”

Your toes curl. “Don’t call him that.”

“C’mon, man,” Ethan sighs. “You’re killing the mood.”

“It’s dead and buried,” May corrects, face set in that brilliant frown that gets your heart pumping when it’s directed at you. 

Josh glances between the three of you, landing particularly on May and her crossed arms. He looks to Ethan again for support, throws his hands up when he finds none there. “Fine,” he says, smacking his teeth. “‘S boring playing girls anyway.”

He bounces the ball across the table to Ethan, and stalks off with his shoulders sagging. May’s face softens when she comes over to you, your chest warm at her concern. “You okay?”

“Mm. Thank you.”

She pouts, swaying a little. “Why are guys such jerks?”

“Um, I’m right here,” Ethan laughs, chucking the ball back and forth between his hands. There’s that smile again, easy and sharp and clean. You think of Erin, dragged through mud. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, barely glancing at him. 

“No problem. He’s an idiot when he’s drunk.”

If you were braver, you’d say he’s an idiot sober, too. 

“Looks like we need to even the teams up,” May says brightly. 

“Oh, that’s okay,” you answer, the only relief from the situation that this may give you a chance to escape for a brief moment. “I wanna get some water. You guys can keep playing.”

“You sure?” She asks, leaning in so it really is just the two of you, giving you a hit of tuberose and orange blossom, the same perfume she’s worn since your first high school party in ‘83. “I’ll come with you if you want.”

“It’s okay,” you say, squeezing her arm gratefully. “I’ll be right back.”

The air is fresher the second you’re in the hallway, without the clutch of warm bodies forcing you to mutter ‘excuse me’ enough that the words lose all meaning. The damp heat picks up again in the kitchen, smaller groups standing around with cups in their hands, some swaying to the distant music. You glance at the sink, find a couple crowded in front of it, their eyes intent on eachother. Even your slightly fuzzy mind decides against trying to navigate around them in search of water. 

“Hey, Ringwald.” It takes a good couple of seconds for you to register that the greeting might be for you. It requires a tap on the shoulder, Erin’s half there smile directed your way. She holds up a cup. “Want some?” 

You glance into it, find clear liquid that gets your hopes up. “Water?”

She snorts. “I know I’m pretty badass, but six shots of vodka in one cup is a little much. Even for me.” 

You take it gratefully, screaming at your tipsy brain to remember not to drink too much of someone else’s water. A couple gulps and you hand it back to her, surprised at how much you needed it, throat a little scratchy from singing earlier before your joy left with Heather. 

“So, uh, how are you?”

You nod, giving her a close lipped smile. “Yeah, fine. How are you?”

Erin tilts her head, her right eye narrowing. “No, I mean, like really how are you?” She waves her cup around, as if gesturing to the entire house. “Seems like you and May are friends again, I guess.”

“We were always friends,” you assure, heart panging. “She was just,” you search for it, unprepared for this conversation. Where you normally would avoid answering altogether, your cottoned up mind combined with the earnest desperation to defend your friend ends in a rambling answer. “I didn’t tell her the right way, you know? She was hurt, finding out from somebody else about, you know, Eddie and I. But we talked it all out and she’s forgiven me.”

“Forgiven…you?” 

“For not telling her myself.”

Erin taps a finger on her cup, considering you. “That’s what she was angry about?”

Your mouth opens, thoughts tangling. “Um, I mean, among other things,” you rush, giving her a reassuring smile. “But everything’s fine now.” 

“Okay,” she says, that half smile returning. “Glad to hear it, Ringwald.”

“I, um,” you step a little closer, forcing yourself to look right into her eyes. “I did want to say thank you for that actually. I just-” You just worried endlessly about approaching her, how you would even thank her for preventing you from being quizzed about your sex life in front of an entire group. You shrug, and luckily Erin seems to understand.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “You shouldn’t have had to explain yourself in the first place. But those girls are pretty vicious when they smell blood.”

You’re struck with a pity for her you know she’d probably hate you feeling. You try to remember what she was like before her entire friend group turned on her, before she was taken in by that sharp smile. She still had the sarcastic wit, you’re sure. But without the undertone of anger that comes along every other sentence; less bite. Erin has always been confident, but now she carries herself like somebody full of righteous indignation and nowhere to put it.

“You can have the rest of this,” she says, handing you the water and looking away like she’s read your whole thought process and wants out of the conversation quick. “Those six shots actually sound kind of appealing now.”

“Okay, well, see you later?”

She gives you a little thumbs up as she passes. You watch her elbow past the couple at the sink to reach the bottles and cups piled beside it. Already feeling more sober than you had when you walked in, you finish the cool water, resisting the temptation to start playing with the material of your skirt. 

“Hey, uh…hey.” You look over at Neil from your Physics class, recognising the sound of somebody trying and failing to remember your name. “Could you talk to Munson for me? Tell him I’m good for the money, it’s just that it’s another week before I get paid.”

You blink. The information takes a second to move from your ears to your brain, longer to process their whole meaning. You feel a flutter in your chest; something like excitement, something like relief. “Eddie’s here?”

“Yeah, and he’s making a really big deal out of twenty dollars, you know?”

You look over his shoulder as if Eddie might be standing out in the hallway, finding only the empty doorway. “Where is he?”

“Uh, he was by the stereo I think? So, you’ll talk to him?” 

“Um, sure,” you mumble, pressing past him to walk down the hall back into the living room. There’s May, laughing as Ethan tips his head back to drink, the table laden with a new set of cups. On the other side of the room, Heather, nodding at something and looking serious as ever. 

And then you catch him; a head of messy curls, denim on leather, the cut out t-shirt you know Eddie sewed on himself by hand. He’s standing right next to the stereo, sorting through records. His curls shift with a shake of his head and you just know his expression is dismayed, truly disappointed in the collection. To his side, a group of boys is searching their pockets, failing to hide their efforts to pool money together. 

Eddie’s presence pulls at you, an invisible but physical tug, and before you know it you’re crossing the room towards him. He jumps a little when you rest your palm on his back, his hand flying to his wallet chain. Then his brown eyes land on you, and you feel the unique joy of watching Eddie realising it’s you. His expression turns in an instant from guarded to happiness. Round eyes look you up and down once in surprise to confirm it’s you, once again in appreciation. He leans right into you, smile a little wolfish. “Well, hey. What brings you to my darkened corner, sweet thing?”

What can you say to that? That in the six, seven hours since you’ve seen him, you’ve felt the lack of his presence? That you’ve spent the last hour in particular wishing you’d never come here, wondering why you didn’t go home with him instead? 

“Was surprised to see you.”

“Yeah, well,” he starts, gesturing with his head to the boys behind him. “My services were required, you see.” His eyes track down again, zeroing in at the place on your legs where your dress ends, the fishnet tights wrapped around your thighs. “You look, uh,” he clears his throat, clearly searching for the right word. “Shit. I mean, fuck. You look good.” 

Your cheeks warm. You turn to the side a touch, pressing your knees together. “Thank you.”

“I um, really like these.” His hand teases the hem of your dress, thumb brushing across the string of your tights. Eddie’s fingers are a warm sting that has your breath catching, your body aching to be closer to him, to more of his heat. 

“Munson?” Sounds from behind him, and the spell is broken. Eddie jumps again, hand parting from your skin like he’d touched a hot stove. His hair flies around him as he turns, face becoming impassive again. 

“Gentlemen,” he says, standing in front of you. “Managed to pool your allowances?” 

“Shut up, Munson.”

Eddie’s head tilts. “For future reference, save the shit talk till after you have the product in your hand. Unless you wanna add another ten percent for the ounce-”

“No, it’s fine,” another says, elbowing his friend. “It’s all there.”

Eddie sighs, taking the collection of rumpled bills from his hand. You watch him stand in front of the antsy boys, counting each note twice over just to watch them squirm. “Mm. Looks like it’s all here.” He brings his wallet from his back pocket, attached to his jeans by a chain, and tucks the money inside. Then, after glancing around him quickly, Eddie’s right hand disappears into the front of his pants. 

“Kept it warm for you, boys,” he cackles, pulling out a plastic baggy filled with green clumps and hurling it towards them. 

In the next second, he’s grabbed your hand and is pulling you through the crowd to the sound of, “Munson, you prick!” from behind you. You can hear Eddie’s almost manic giggling over the music, your heart pounding from speeding after him and the fear of the chance at being followed by five boys, all half drunk and furious. 

Eddie’s hand remains tight around yours until the cool air out the front door hits your heated skin, finally slowing to catch his breath, still chuckling to himself. You watch him, wide eyed, as he leans back against the front wall, head falling back and then forward to look at you. His eyes flash, his face tells you he’s proud. 

“Why did you do that?” 

His laughter stops when he spies the serious look on your face, your hands fiddling with your skirt. “Ah, shit. Sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t plan for you to be around but there wasn’t much I could do, sweet thing. It was already down there, y’know?” 

“That’s not what I- Why would you aggravate them like that, Eddie?” 

Something a little cold comes over his face then. “Satisfaction, pure and simple,” he answers. “The only kind I can get out of guys like that.”

“But, if you didn’t speak to them like that-”

Eddie’s already shaking his head. “If I didn’t speak to them like that- Hell, if I gave them that weed for free, got on my knees and asked for an ounce of kindness, come Monday they’re still gonna throw me, or Jeff, or any of the guys from Hellfire into a locker,” he tells you, voice a plea for you to understand. “Or call me a freak, or lock one of the freshmen, who still barely know their way around the building, in a supply closet for an hour.” Eddie tilts his head at you. “It’s got absolutely nothing to do with me aggravating them or not, okay? It's not about how nice I am, or how I talk to them - it's about this," he stresses grabbing his long hair, then his shirt. "And this. And D&D and the fucking trailer and my piece of shit father. No amount of sweet talk will fix it cause they don't want me to be nice; they want me to change. And I can’t do that, okay? More importantly, I won’t do that.”

Everything he says makes your chest hurt.

It makes sense, that this is how Eddie Munson thinks. Since your first stumbled word, you’ve been hiding yourself away, blending into the crowd to avoid all the pain that comes with being singled out. But him? Eddie has no interest in curling in on himself, shrinking his personality to fit in. Everything he says, every move he makes, is unapologetic. As true to himself as that shirt. 

But it hurts to think that something so unnatural to you could be right. For all your good will, all your work and staying under the radar, it hasn't saved you. Your need to keep quiet only led to Caroline’s harshness, the laughter from the cheer girls. Your desperation to avoid judgement only opened all the right doors for Andy to hurt you the way he did, for everyone around you to know exactly how. All your complacency, all your acquiescence, none of it kept your friends nearly as close as you’d wanted them. 

You swallow, catch Eddie’s eyes, and whisper in earnest. “I don’t want you to change.” 

You could cry at the relief in his face, the fast blinking that vanishes the shine in his eyes. His head tilts. “No?”

You shake your head vehemently, wishing he would hold your hand again so you could play with his fingers. He pushes himself off the wall and leans into your space, hair falling towards you. You look between his eyes and his collar, debating hiding your face there. 

“Not even my driving?”  

“Okay,” you answer, watching his dimples press into his face. “Maybe I’d like you to change one thing.”

“I knew it!” Eddie cries, throwing his hands up. “Sweet girls like you are only ever after one thing. You wanna fix me, huh?”

“No,” you whisper, smiling to the side. “Just, gently improve your interest in speed limits?” 

“Yeah? And what about my proclivity for pineapple and olive pizza?”

You chew the inside of your lip, suppressing giggles. “I think, given time, I can learn to live with it.” You feel a buzz of pride at Eddie’s laugh, the crinkle around his eyes he gets when he’s really, truly happy. “I do mean it, Eddie. I like you exactly as you are. More-” You take a breath. “More than I’ve ever liked anyone.”

Eddie’s hand finds yours again, your fingers curling into his, your knuckles at his palm. 

“Like me enough to come home with me?” 

You want to. Desperately. The relief you felt at seeing him, your whole body telling you that you’d rather spend an evening with Eddie than here, navigating social circles you’ll never really be a part of. 

“I have to tell my friends first,” you say, watching Eddie nod. 

“Sure thing. I can wait.”

“Okay.” Your gaze travels between his eyes and his collar again, stalling your departure. You want a kiss. Want to kiss him all the time, even for a short goodbye. Eddie, sensing your hesitance to leave, narrows his eyes a little like he's trying to work you out. He catches your eyes dart to his lips, and they curve. 

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to you. It’s a perfect, innocent little thing. But you like it, like the domesticity you’re learning with Eddie. You want kisses goodbye and hello, his hand in yours in the car. You want elbows meeting sides while cooking together, waking up in the middle of the night just to hear Eddie breathing before you fall away again, catching sight of each other in the mirror while you brush your teeth in the morning. You want your daily life, with Eddie in it, with all the things he adds just by way of existing. 

You give him another quick peck, face hot, and run into the house before your mouth asks him to leave with you now and never come back. 

You find May in the kitchen, huddled together with a couple of the cheer girls as well as Ethan. She waves brightly when she catches sight of you, gesturing you over. “Hi!” She calls, hair mussed, clearly having continued to drink since you parted. “Where did you go?”

“Um, I was thinking I might go home,” you say, fiddling with your skirt. “M’tired.”

“Oh, are Heather and Patrick leaving too?”

“No, no. I ran into Eddie. He’s gonna give me a ride home.” 

You brace yourself, the back of your neck prickling with tension. You watch the expression on May’s face shift from confusion, not to anger or disappointment, but amusement. 

“Ohh-kay, you’re tired,” she laughs, shaking her head. You make a noise in embarrassment, checking to see if the rest of the group are listening in and she grins at you, pulling you into a quick, floral smelling, hug. “Have a good night, okay? I’ll see you later.”

You give her a squeeze back, chest warm. “Yeah, later.” 

You give a half hearted wave to everyone else, navigating your way to the living room. Heather is where she has been all evening, under Patrick’s arm. “Hey,” you say, avoiding eye contact with the boys around her. “I’m gonna head.”

“Already?” Heather pouts. A quick throb or annoyance rises and falls, your anger that she wouldn't have noticed either way reasoned with the fact that it was your decision not to spend any time with this group. 

“Yeah, I’m tired.”

“I thought I was giving you a ride?” Patrick asks, leaning over.

"No, Eddie's gonna take me home."

There’s a moment of quiet, information sinking in before Patrick's face displays a shocked frown. "Eddie? Munson? You're getting in that scrap heap he calls a van?" 

You look from him to Heather, spy the clear guilt on her face when you say, "He's my boyfriend. Heather didn't tell you?" 

“She most certainly did not- when the fuck-”

“I’m sure she can fill you in,” you say, voice edging towards breaking, thinking about her encouragement, her fingers on the cross around her neck. Heather's mouth opens, her hand coming to that very pendant, and you shake your head. "Bye." 

She calls your name behind you, but doesn't come after you when you leave. 

Eddie is waiting for you still, balancing a seat on the porch rail and smoking when you emerge. A dimple presses into his face when he flicks the cigarette away and slides down. “All good?”

You grab his hand, bury your face into his shoulder to lean on him a little. Breathe in leather and drugstore shampoo - Eddie, Eddie, Eddie - until your heart stops throbbing painfully. 

“All good,” you mumble, turning your head to look at him from his shoulder. “Home?”

You realise how tired you are when you are settled in Eddie’s van, your eyes and limbs heavy. You half want to curl up in the soft seat and drift, but get taken in by watching Eddie as he drives. His fingers following the guitar licks of his music on the steering wheel, his hair shifting when he rocks his head forward. The way he glances at you when he turns, catches you staring and grins to himself every time. 

"You know, I didn’t really have you down as someone who’d be into paaarties,” he says, eyes wide with his mocking tone. He glances at you again, at your worn out state, and half closes an eye. “And I gotta say, you don't seem like you were having a good time."

You think about that for a minute, wondering how best to explain your complicated relationship with social events. “I like dancing with my friends,” you start with a shrug. “And getting ready.” You lean your head back. “It’s like the only time the three of us are together anymore.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, glancing over at you. “Why’s that?”

Why is that? You’ve wondered it yourself. It felt like, suddenly, though maybe it happened very slowly without you realising, whatever delicate thread held you together started to strain as you moved in different directions. Or, as they did; leaving you lonely in the place you used to share. Waiting for them to visit, when it suits them. 

They changed. You stayed the same.

Only, you must have changed a little. You replay that last moment with Heather tonight in your head, wondering if you’ve ever shown her your hurt, your anger. Six months ago, you doubt you’d even have left at all. It’s more likely that you would have stayed, wishing to be anywhere else, until they wanted to leave. 

Eddie looks over at you following your long silence, adopts the soft, encouraging smile he gives you to show you he’ll wait for your answer, regardless of the reasons it’s taking you so long to find it. You get an inkling, then, of why you’ve changed, if only a little. 

“We’re all just…different than we were,” you say finally. 

“People change, I guess,” Eddie nods. “For better or worse.”

You think you might be better.

Exhaustion takes over when you cross the comforting threshold into Eddie’s home; the familiar smell and warmth of it sending a message across your body that you can relax now. You clean your teeth with the brush Eddie presented you with the first time you stayed over, scrub at your face with warm water until all that’s left are panda eyes you don’t have the fortitude to deal with. When Eddie takes his turn in the bathroom, you search through the little drawer he’d cleaned out for you to find soft cotton pyjamas that have your eyes drifting the second you have them on. 

When Eddie returns, you’re standing in the middle of the room fiddling with your hands, still a little worried about the assumption of getting into his bed when he’s not there. 

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he says, holding the covers open for you and tucking them over your shoulder when you’re settled on the good pillow, the one he insists you take every time. You watch, heart sore, as Eddie removes every one of his rings, counting the little metallic clanks as he drops them on the table. Then goes his bracelet, his watch and his wallet chain. You stare shamelessly as he pulls his shirt over his head, soft hair following the collar up, up, up, and dropping down again in a curly mass around his pale shoulders as the fabric pulls away. You hear the distinct clink of his belt, curl your knees up at the heat the sound sends through your core. Eddie wiggles his hips a little as he pulls his jeans down, stepping out of them ungracefully, kicking them off his heels. He stands before you in his blue plaid boxers, all pale tattooed skin. 

“You’ve been staring at me all evenin’,” he says, approaching you, dropping down in a squat so his face is right by yours. 

You can’t argue, but find yourself fiddling with the duvet, pulling it up to your cheek and half hiding in it to mumble into the polyester. “I like looking at you.” 

“Yeah? Well, looking’s free. Usually touching would cost you,” he says, reaching out with a finger to pull the cover down from your face and leaning in like he’s sharing a secret. “But, uh, just between you and I, sweet thing, you can touch for free, too.” Your toes curl, glancing quickly at Eddie’s pink mouth, watching his lips tilt. “Need some of my services just now?”

“Yeah,”

He hums, his big hand capturing your cheek to tilt your face to his. Eddie’s kisses are gentle and warm. You taste dried toothpaste on his lips, the lasting smoke in his breath from that final cigarette. Then, when your kisses have turned too sleepy to last, just soft presses to his bottom lip, he climbs into the other side of the bed and reaches out for you, fingers wiggling. You tuck yourself into his side, and fall asleep quick. 

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You drift to waking, gently pulled from sleep by sunshine peeking through cheap blinds and the distant sound of a barking dog. You are comfortably cozy under the sheets. Even having shifted to either side of the bed in the night, no longer tangled, you can feel the heat of Eddie at your back. 

You half snooze for a long time, eyes drifting open to take in the contents of the room. The amps and the Corroded Coffin wall hanging, a closet slightly more full than the first time you were here, a floor still messy but less littered with piles of half clean half dirty laundry. Eddie’s acoustic guitar, his writing overtop in white, THIS MACHINE SLAYS DRAGONS. 

You close your eyes again. The next time they open, the room is brighter. Turning ungracefully, you come face to face with Eddie, and huff a soft laugh through your nose. Eddie’s hair in the morning is a beast, pressed to either side of his face from his tossing against the pillow. Some locks frizzed to the point of dullness, some still set in loose curls; both types tossed over the front of his face. Reaching out, you tuck each lock back until you can see him properly, every pretty feature of his face.

You consider trying to wake him, but find yourself simply shuffling closer, tucking yourself into him, nose at his neck. Eddie hums, one arm coming up instinctively to settle over your half asleep body. 

You finally jump awake to the sound of the front door falling closed in a swinging slam. Eddie blinks opposite you, fully registering the noise and your presence together. He hums, closes his eyes again, takes a deep breath through his nose and opens his mouth wide to yawn so loud he might as well have screamed. 

“Coffee, boy!?” Wayne calls as Eddie stretches and cracks his pale limbs. He glances at you in question. 

You chew the inside of your lip. “Should he know I’m here?”

Eddie takes this in for a second, then smiles. “I mean, he’s about to, either way.”

Regret at not having asked Eddie to set an alarm rids all the warm cosiness of the scene. Your face feels hot already at the thought of facing Wayne on a Saturday morning having clearly slept in this bed. “He’ll- he’ll think we-”

Recognition dawns on Eddie’s face, and he shakes his head quickly. “He won’t think anything, sweetheart,” he tells you, leaning in till he’s put himself in your eyeline. Eddie’s expression is earnest until it shifts into an amused smile. “I’ll even tell him you slept on the floor to preserve my innocence. Score you some points with the old man.”

Eddie’s sleepy laughter has some of the tightness in your chest abating. The sight of his eyes crinkling at the sides, dimples digging into his cheeks, is a treat you don’t usually get so early. 

“What time is it?” You ask, realising it may not be early at all if Wayne’s back. Eddie grabs his watch from the bedside table, blinks away residual blurriness.

“Nine thirty.”

Later than you’ve slept since school started back up, yet even now, the thought of curling back up in Eddie’s arms and snoozing for a little longer is an attractive prospect you’re seriously considering.

“I heard your caterwaul of a yawn, boy! How many coffee’s am I making!?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. You nod. He calls back. “Three! If you can count that high!”

The sounds of clinking mugs and sizzling oil mix with Eddie’s soft grunts as he gets himself dressed, jumping up and down to pull his jeans over his feet and searching through the closet for a t-shirt adorned with three angels, all smoking. 

He takes you in when he’s put his rings on, no doubt almost as messy haired as him, watching him from his bed. Brown eyes bright, Eddie leans in to give you a soft kiss. 

“Morning, sweet thing,” he says. His hand cups your cheek, letting you press into his wide palm. “Take your time, mm? I’ll assure Wayne my innocence remains intact.”

Your nose scrunches at his teasing, even as you turn to press a quick kiss to the centre of his hand. Eddie rubs a thumb under your eye, then shuffles out his door. Immediately, the noise of clinking plates is smothered by the exchange of familiar jabs and teases between the uncle and nephew. 

The days you’ve spent here have made you realise how special their relationship is. Not something less than father and son, but in fact something more. Wayne looks upon Eddie with the exasperated fondness of a dad, but reserves the true judgement they can be prone to. No passive aggressive comments about Eddie’s track record at school, nor questions about the way he dresses, despite the bookmarked King James bible that sits on the coffee table. He’s ruffled Eddie’s hair kindly every time he’s been here while you were doing homework, hung his latest C- graded test up on the fridge. Eddie told you Wayne bought him that acoustic guitar when he was thirteen, saved up for months to take him to a real music shop in Indianapolis and let him pick one out. 

You can see, even, the parts of Wayne that have filtered straight down to Eddie. Their humour overlaps, the way they can banter back and forth with each other, never crossing the line into hurt. Though, where Eddie can’t help but grin at a good joke, Wayne remains deadpan through every jibe. 

Wayne, when he gets talking, can spin a yarn the same way Eddie can. Stories about his nights at the factory, his old job driving trucks across the country, his youth, told not in a long ramble, but structured perfectly to have you on the edge of your seat. 

You know now that Eddie’s kindness, the way he treats you, was a gift from Wayne. His genuine interest in your life, your plans. His continual, earnest offer of food from his fridge every time he sees you. When your mom made a lasagne for you to take in thanks for all the evenings you’ve spent here, Wayne didn’t send the dish with Eddie to school, but drove to your house with it cleaned to a shine to hand it back and thank her personally. Soon after, Eddie let it slip that the daisies he brought you for your first date were bought at Wayne’s insistence. 

You’d wondered, that day at the lake, how a boy treated like Eddie is treated could be so bright and kind. 

Wayne was the answer. 

So you should be braver, emerging from Eddie’s room in that big hoodie of his he’d been lending you on and off and shorts you’d left here the last time you stayed over, no doubt still sporting panda eyes from last night. But you find yourself making use of the long sleeves, fidgeting with your fingers against the fabric. 

Eddie’s in the midst of getting his wrist thwacked with a spatula for attempting to steal a streak of bacon as Wayne transferred them from pan to plate. Gasping, he holds his hand in the air and lets his wrist fall limp. “I- I can’t feel my fingers!”

Wayne silently watches Eddie flop his hand back and forth, only a slight crinkle at his eyes suggesting he finds anything his nephew is doing at all amusing. When he catches sight of you, his gaze barely flickers from your messy hair to Eddie’s hoodie. “Mornin’,” he says, turning his back to a still howling Eddie to shake the pan. “Eggs? Bacon?”

The temptation to refuse, to be polite and pretend you don’t want anything from him prickles at the back of your mind. Only, experience has taught you he’ll only plate you up something anyway. There for you if you change your mind, something both he and Eddie say frequently.

“Please,” you nod. 

“You gonna set the table, Eddie?”

“How can I?” Eddie cries, wrapping his other hand around the injured arm and holding it up as if the ailment has moved all the way to his elbow. “With this!?”

Wanting to make yourself useful, you venture into the cutlery drawer yourself, giggling as Eddie shakes his limp hand at you, before pulling up the fold out table at the other side of the kitchen. “You’re on coffee duty then, Ed.”

Eddie gives up the routine at the prospect of picking out mugs, his eyes shining. It’s an activity he seems to enjoy deeply; shuffling over to the expansive collection and perusing them like he doesn’t already know exactly who’s getting what.

Eddie likes to give Wayne a novelty Garfield mug, something about the quiet, serious man drinking from the head of the large orange cat tickling him. For himself, a black mug with THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE printed in white letters around a cartoon duck. For a while, he has been trying out different mugs for you, showing the best of Wayne’s extensive collection. But he’s settled on a white NASA mug Wayne picked up on a trip to Houston. “For my smart girl,” he’d said the first time he handed it to you, expression all fondness and pride. 

Eating together is becoming familiar to you now. Wayne has picked up on your tendency to keep quiet the same way Eddie did, sometimes asking you questions but generally letting you decide when you want to speak without much prying. 

“You two got plans?” He asks, glancing briefly at you then turning to Eddie when you look unsure. 

“Uh, nothing solid,” Eddie says, focused on the construction of an increasingly complex breakfast sandwich. “But I was thinking about heading to Greenfield to pick up an album. I had loan of Accept’s newest record from Jeff before he remembered I had it.” His tongue peeks out at his concentration, topping the egg, bacon, hashbrown and tomato with a final piece of toast. “Didn’t think three months was too long to keep it. I mean, what’s an album between friends?”

You watch in near fascination as he manages to keep it all in tact through a large bite. He chews slowly, and swallows. “I’d welcome a road trip buddy if you’d be so inclined, Princess.” 

Your face warms at the name used in front of Wayne, but you nod. 

“There’s a good bookshop, too,” he says, clearly holding himself back from taking another significant bite. “S’where I got my copy of Orpheus.” He must see something, excitement probably, move across your face, because next Eddie is flashing a pleased smile. “Sound good?”

“Sounds good.”

When you’re all finished, dishes washed by you at your gentle insistence, face scrubbed further with luke warm water from the tap and hair finger combed through, you leave a yawning Wayne to his fold out. 

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The shop, located two towns over from Hawkins, smells like the music room at your first school. The memory hits you as soon as you walk through the door; standing in three lines and belting out an off tune Amazing Grace with another thirty kids. Playing with claves and tambourines. Eddie seems in his element here, directing you through display shelves of pop and country records around a corner to the back where his kind of music is kept. “Course, some albums I just use the cassette,” he tells you, rifling through a couple of records. You look around the section yourself, counting up the albums you recognise from Eddie’s desk, his glove compartment. “But when I love an album I kinda have to get it on vinyl, you know?”

You don’t, not really. You have your own pile of albums in your room, all plastic rectangles ready for your cassette player or your walkman. Your dad has a collection of country records, your Mom some Joni Mitchell, the Crosby, Stills and Nash records she played constantly when you were a child. Before Eddie started asking you to pick out albums you thought looked good in his room, you hadn’t touched a vinyl since your aunt asked you to put on the White Christmas over the holidays. 

Eddie senses your confusion, and shrugs. “I mean, I wanna see the album art for real,” he tells you, finding one as an example. “Not quite as effective at four by three inches, right?” You recognise it immediately as Holy Diver. Eddie has a shirt with this cover on it; a demon standing over a priest splashing in water. He was wearing it that day in the woods, when you ran right up and kissed him. He takes the record from you when you nod, placing it back carefully. 

“And there’s albums a stereo just can’t do justice to. They’re useful when I wanna skip songs. But hearing it from start to finish? At the highest quality? It just needs a record. Ah-” He finds the album he came here for and shows you. A blue background, with a chrome, blocky heart shape filled with valves and pumps. "Metal Heart," Eddie explains. "Latest, and best, album by Accept. They're this German heavy metal band? The lead guitarist, Wolf Hoffman?” He sighs wistfully, looking off into the distance. “Man, what I'd do if I got him in a room alone.”

You make an awful snorting sound when you laugh, have to ignore the delight on Eddie’s face lest you burn up entirely. "So,” you start. “Heavy metal is different from regular metal, or is it just another term for it?”

Eddie's face lights up at the question, putting on a refined accent. "Heavy metal, young lady, is a type of metal that encompasses many genres,” he explains, bringing a hand up to add to the role. “For example, one could say all thrash metal is heavy metal, but only a simple fool, would seek to claim that all heavy metal is thrash metal. Do you follow?” His character falls apart at your giggle. “I said metal too many times, huh? Note taken. You wanna listen?" 

At your nod, Eddie walks you back round to the front towards a row of glass booths housing record players and headphones. You watch his hands move carefully, treating the record with the same care he uses to hold your hand. When it's in place, he dons the headphones and places the needle, nodding his head until it reaches the start of the particular song he wants you to hear. His hair fans out a little as he removes them, making to place them over your ears until you flinch and he jerks them back. 

 “A little loud,” 

“Ah, shit, sorry,” he says, turning a knob on the record player. “I forgot. Princess ears.” He replaces the headphones, eyebrows raising in question. The volume more manageable now, you nod happily, listening to pulsing guitars build in intensity, joined by thrashing drums and eventually the telltale screeching voice that immediately transports you into Eddie’s room, the soundtrack of his life. 

Eddie’s eyes are all soft excitement, shining at you, watching for your reactions. 

If you had to make a list of all the things to like about Eddie, his passion would surely sit near the top. The way he fizzes all over to talk about music, and Dungeons and Dragons and Lord of the Rings. The way he’s desperate to share his interests with you. Not out of expectation for you to feel exactly the same about any of it, and certainly not with any assumptions that you should understand it already. Just to share, to let you in, to show himself to you. 

You wish you were more like him, that way. That you weren’t more comfortable hiding, keeping bits of yourself under lock and key lest their exposure leave the most delicate parts of you open to attack. You try to imagine Eddie using anything like that against you. You remember him leaning across the table to you on your first date, listening to you ramble about wyverns and etymology while your feet tapped your anxiety out onto the floor. He’d thanked you for sharing. Very metal, he’d said. 

Three minutes in, and you realise Eddie’s been playing the whole song in his head, because he brings his hands up to follow the chords playing in your ears with an imaginary guitar, hair shaking as he throws his head back and forth. Then he flashes his smile, soft cheeks displaying his dimples and smile lines.

You can’t help it. 

You step forward until your feet are patterned with his. You reach out for his sleeve, playing with the chains keeping the left connected across his wrist. Eddie’s still watching you when you tilt your chin, leaning towards him to press your lips to his. Anxiety prickles along your spine, but you know that nobody can see you. Even better, you know that Eddie is between you and the door, hiding you from the world. With the distinctive chains of his jacket in your fingers, his music sounding through your headphones, his lips on yours; everything around you is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. 

Safe, safe, safe. 

He pulls away with a huff of breath against your lips, giving you a series of chaste pecks like he isn’t quite ready to stop kissing you entirely despite protesting lungs. Your face burns, but it’s worth it for the way Eddie is staring at you when you finally open your eyes. 

“What was that for?” He mouths, gaze flicking to your lips and back to your eyes.

You bring your foot up, pressing the top of it to the back of your ankle and sliding it up and down your calf. A braver version of you would say what every part of you is screaming. Instead you shrug, still fiddling with his sleeve. Eddie tilts his head, clearly unsatisfied, but doesn't press you. 

"I like this," you tell him as it finishes, removing the headphones. 

"Well, that settles it," he answers, sliding the record from the player back into its sleeve. "You're coming home with me." 

You watch Eddie navigate the shop like it's a second home. He stops off at the cassettes, rifling through for anything new, anything he might not have heard before. He grabs a couple blank tapes too, looks at you to the side with pink cheeks. "In case I wanna make any more mixtapes." 

At the desk, Eddie places everything down carefully while you wait at the empty till. After a good thirty seconds, you start playing with the rings on Eddie's left hand while his other raps against the wooden desk. "Uh, hello? Anybody- ah, shit." 

"Munson," says the bespeckled boy who emerges from the back room. 

Eddie’s fingers twitch, and you cease your fidgeting to look up at him, find his face pulled taught. "Oh, hi. I, uh, didn't think you worked on Saturdays anymore." 

"Switched to the weekend shift," he answers, stony faced. "That gonna be a problem for you? Surely you’re not still in highschool?"

Eddie frowns, hand twitching again as he sighs. "Listen, man, I'm not looking to argue-"

"Don't know why else you'd show your face. You know your money's no good to me." 

Eddie slumps, all the easy happiness pulled from him. He hasn’t looked at you once, and your heart aches. 

"I'm buying these," you declare, searching through your bag for your purse. Tissues, no, lipgloss, no, mixtape, no. 

They both turn to you. The boy behind the desk takes you in finally, his nose wrinkling. "Oh yeah? You a metal fan?" 

"Mm hmm,” you say, voice higher than you’d like. 

"Okay, name three Metallica albums."

You glance at Eddie, find him rolling his eyes until you ask. “But Metallica only has two albums, right?" 

Eddie’s immediate smile is warmth inducing, causes you to shuffle with shy pride. You thrust out the money in your hand, start gathering up the items again to place in your shopping bag while Eddie grins in the face of the scowling man. 

"Whatever,” he says finally. “I don't wanna see you around here again, Munson." 

Eddie gives him a little salute, then grabs the bag from you and takes your hand to leave.

"Jesus," he breathes as soon as the bell announcing the doors closure sounds. "You can't talk like that, sweet thing. We're in public. You’ve-" He scratches at the back of his neck. “You’ve really been listening to me talk about it all the time, huh?”

You frown. “Of course, Eddie. I like it,” you answer, tugging his hand to start the walk back to the van. “Who was that?" 

Eddie’s smile drops. "Uh, Peter? We actually, kinda used to be friends. I introduced him to all his favourite bands back in the day, you know? Then suddenly he’s the gatekeeper of metal- I mean it’s a fucking joke.” He opens the side door, placing your bag behind the front seat. “S'how I met Gareth, really. Poor kid couldn't name two Dio albums so he gets insulted buying the latest one, what the hell is that? We all have to start somewhere. I mean, when I met that guy he was a U2 fan. Anyway-” he continues, closing the door. “I told him he was being a dick and he got all pissy about it." 

You chew your lip. "He acts that way, because you called him a dick?"

Eddie blanches, his head falling back with a quick groan. "Okay, I wanna add a disclaimer that I was sixteen and dumb," he starts. "And he really was being a dick, acting like- like all those guys metalheads are supposed to hate in the first place, and-" 

"And?" 

"And I hit him. Real gentle. With my fist." 

"Eddie,"

"Sweet thing, even you woulda decked him if you'd been there. I swear. And, I just can't fucking stand that shit, you know?" 

You do know. Eddie is all gentle touch and soft smiles around you, but something changes in him when he’s witness to injustice. He'd had to miss a date just last week because he had detention, brought about by standing over a sophomore who'd dared to mess with one of the freshmen in Eddie's club. "You make one vague threat about human sacrifice and suddenly everyone's got an opinion on what constitutes bullying," he'd complained later. "If teachers aren’t gonna teach that kid not to be a cunt, why shouldn't I scare it out of him?" 

You've heard him call the whole group his little sheep, laughing like he doesn't kind of mean it. Like he doesn't think of them as weird kids he'd gathered together in something of a herd, a pack. Like he doesn't think of himself as their shepherd, as their protector. 

"Point is," he says now. "He's the one in the wrong, I swear. Shit. I can't believe he works weekends now." 

"Well, I can go in for you." 

"Yeah? You can set him straight, my baby metalhead. Fuck- didn't even say thank you. Was too busy trying to pretend I wasn't half fucking hard-" You make a soft noise and Eddie blinks, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. How much was it again?"

You press a toe to the top of your other shoe shyly. "Can't I buy you them?" 

"Huh?"

"Like a gift?" 

Eddie’s face twists. You thought he was just being a gentleman, when he’d paid sneakily on your first date. You know now that’s only part of it. He likes driving you places but won’t accept gas money, likes making you dinner at his home but won’t let you pay for groceries when you tag along on errands. The only thing he doesn’t get twitchy about is your baking, but that’s because you’re there eating them too. You think this might further influence from Wayne; a certain pride, a refusal to accept anything monetary from you. 

"But, sweet thing-"

"Please, Eddie?" 

He watches you, conflicting emotions passing along his expression. "Okay. But you’re picking out a book. A real fancy one. I wanna see leather binding yeah? And one of those little ribbons attached, okay?" 

Your toes curl, nodding happily. "Okay."

You feel more at home as you walk through a glass door to the smell of old paper and ink. 

Joan Baez croons from the record player in the corner. The woman at the register nods as you enter but offers no other greeting. Eddie follows after you when you make a beeline to the poetry section; full of battered, well loved books with cracked spines and fading covers. 

You send Eddie a shy look, spine prickling from being watched in what feels like a solitary activity. You rub your thumb at a dusty shelf, wondering how to tell him, when he leans in a little. "Hey, you’ve been taking all my music recommendations. Anything for me to read?”

“Oh,” you say, mind lighting up before dimming at the thought of being too pushy, or recommending something he might hate. “I don’t know.”

“C’mon,” he says, leaning in more until he's all you can see, tilting his head until you’re looking into his eyes. “What are you thinking?”

You chew the inside of your lip. “Mm. Maybe- Have you ever read The Metamorphosis?” 

Eddie leans back, shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Can’t say I have.”

“I think,” you consider it again. “I think you’d like it. It’s about, well- A man turns into…an insect.” You simmer over the fact you want to share, let yourself believe that Eddie will be as willing as always to hear it. “It was written in German, and the word for what he turns into literally translates to, like, an animal you can’t sacrifice. Like, vermin?” Eddie’s watching you round off this information in a rush, smiling a little. “Kafka, the writer, didn’t want the actual animal to be specific. But sometimes it’s mistranslated and people say he turns into a beetle, or…or a cockroach,” you trail off, cringing at the sound of yourself. “I’m not selling it very well.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he answers. “Sounds suitably weird. Kafka, you said? I’ll get searching.”

Eddie disappears round the corner, leaving you to comfortable contemplation of the poetry selection. Rilke's entire works, some Wilde, some Shelley. You search for something new and land on a name you've never heard. Drawing it from the shelf, you peer at the cover, a silhouette of a bridge bathed in orange, with the Selected Poems by Marina Tsvetaeva printed above. 

You read a couple of the shorter poems, struck by her voice, her imagery. Turning to a random page, see the original Russian on one side, the English translation on the other. The title, asking the question, Where Does Such Tenderness Come From? Your heart pangs in recognition of her feelings as you read, the best part of poetry always finding yourself reflected back at you. 

You and your eyelashes - she writes. Longer than anyone’s, as if she knows about the eyes you wish you had the confidence to stare into without respite.

“Found anything?”

You jump, closing the book quickly as if you’d been reading something illicit. Eddie gives you a quick up and down look, keeping his distance until your shoulders drop their tension. “Yes,” you say, turning the book so he can see the cover. “I’d never even heard of her but I like her already.”

“Enough to kick poor Rainer off the top spot?”

You feel that strange warmth that comes with being known, the little reminder of things that Eddie has learned and remembered about you. “Not quite, but I’ll still give her a chance.” You glance down at the book in Eddie’s hands, glad to see he’s grabbed your recommendation. “You like it?”

“Seems weird as fuck,” he confirms matter of factly. “So it’s almost like I’m contractually obliged to read it, you know?”

He pulls the new book gently from your hands, retrieving his chained wallet from his back pocket. "My turn," he says with an unusual seriousness. “You want any others?”

You shake your head, lean up to give him a soft kiss on the cheek, surrounded and sheltered as you are by shelves and books. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“Nah,” he says, face a soft pink. 

Later, when Eddie has followed you perusing shop windows, and you are full up on drive through fries, eaten in the front of Eddie’s van as you listened to his story of negotiating $20 of payment between his entire band for their nights playing at the Hideout, Eddie drives you back, glancing over at you every so often like he wants to say something, but turning his head back to the road every time instead.

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

You feel relaxed, content, sitting comfy on the couch outside of Eddie’s trailer. He popped his head in earlier and found Wayne still sleeping, so you settled here to read in companionable silence. You, discovering more of Marina’s voice, drifting back again and again to the one poem that makes your chest full. 

Eddie lies with his head resting on your lap, flicking through the short novella. You play with his hair throughout, curling locks around your fingers and stroking his fringe back from his forehead. Occasionally, you glance down at him, taking in his furrowed brow and eyes shining wet at a couple moments. 

“Well, that was fucked up!” Eddie cries, snapping the book shut and somehow managing to whisper a yell. “He just dies? And they don’t care?”

You close your book to focus on him, resting it next to you. You let your fingers tangle into his hair, scratching softly. Eddie, even in his indignation, tilts his head towards the satisfying feeling like a cat. “Mm. That’s the point. He was living his life for his family, but they didn’t really care about him.”

“Yeah, but there’s not caring about someone and there’s hurtling fruit at them,” he reasons. “That Kafka guy had issues, I can’t be the only one who’s noticed.”

You crack a shy smile. “I think he’s brilliant.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie’s dimples tease you. “You’re a freak.” 

Your stomach flips at the affection in his voice, fingers stilling in his hair for a second before resuming their gentle caress. 

It hits you then, watching Eddie's pretty face, that you’re going to be alone with him again through the night, without interruption, and your throat lumps. As if he realises at the same time, Eddie sits up, hair still at angles from your exploring hands. His mouth opens, then closes again, his eyes flicking from your face to your hands where you’ve started fiddling with the hem of your shirt. 

Forcing yourself to take on his example, you ask, “what are you thinking, Eddie?”

“Big question,” he says. “But uh, I guess, I never thought…I never thought sex was that important, you know? Hell, I lost my virginity in the bathrooms at the Emerson Theatre.” His eyes scrunch closed as soon as he says it, like he regrets letting that particular detail slip right now. When one opens, and finds you smiling at him encouragingly, he sighs with his whole body. “And, I hope you know that it wouldn’t matter to me if you had been with somebody else,” he continues, eyes wide. “Like, at all. But at the same time, I’m happy I’m first, you know? Cause I know I can look after you. I can give you what you deserve. Which, again, technically should be a big fancy bed and linen sheets, but some people have absolutely no patience, so-”

“Eddie,” you groan. But it has no bite. You’re already smiling at him, grabbing at his palm to play with his fingers, heart full. 

He clears his throat. “So yeah, that’s what I’m thinking about. Also seeing you naked, obviously. But that takes up a good 30% of my brain pretty much all the time so it’s not entirely relevant here.”

“You’re so annoying,” you laugh, watching him clutch his chest in mock hurt.

“I just bared my soul to you!” He cries, watching your giggles incredulously. “Do’st thou mock me? Have you no heart, woman?”

You bury the rest of your laughter in his neck, feeling a kind of dizzy happiness that makes it hard to stop. Eddie’s chest shaking under your cheek tells you that he’s as affected, a hand coming up to stroke at your hair as the mirth fades. Turning to look at where your hands have started up playing with his fingers again, you think about what you want to say.

“Eddie,” you whisper, pulling from his neck, looking between his eyes and his forehead as you search for the bravery he has in spades, the ease to tell him that it always had to be him. 

Only, the front door of the trailer opens, revealing a sleepy looking, shirtless, Wayne. 

“Oh, Jesus, have some decorum, man!” Eddie yells, covering your eyes with his hand. 

“Evenin’, Eddie,” he says, followed by your own name. You wave, blinking to Eddie’s palm. “Get everything you wanted?”

“Yup, sweet girl bought me my very own Metal Heart,” he grins, tapping the album where it sits at his side on the couch as you wrestle his arm away. “Sleep well?”

“As good as I can.” He answers earnestly. “Just makin’ coffee then I’ll hit the road. You want anything?”

"I want you to put some clothes on!"

“No, thank you,” you answer over him, shaking your head and leaning into Eddie’s arm. When Wayne's gone, you glance up, find those soft eyes, those long dark eyelashes. Longer than anyone's. 

"What are you thinking?" 

You answer honestly. "That you're gonna look after me." 

"I will," he nods, sounding almost stern. "As long as you want me to." 

You wish it was easy to say, but all you can do is think it. 

Always, always, always.

Wayne leaves with a gruff goodbye, a reminder to Eddie that there's left over pasta in the refrigerator. You remember the first time you were here at the same time as Wayne, the almost desperate rush to get into Eddie's room the second he was gone. 

Now, you and Eddie stay, settled into one another for a long while after, until the sun has moved from high overhead to just behind the trees in front, turning the scene to a silhouette backlit with orange light. Eddie disappears, comes back with bowls of that pasta. You talk about school, and Eddie's band. He explains more about thrash metal, you tell him your new favourite German word you’d learned only yesterday. When the orange fades to blue-black, Eddie looks over at you. 

"Ready?"  

You wonder what it means, that despite the increasing thrum of your heart in your chest, you don't even have to think about it. "Yes."

He holds your hand all the way to his room, guiding you through like you don't know how to find his bed at the end. When the door is closed, sheltering you from the world outside, you wrap your arms tight around him, give yourself the comfort of hiding in his collar, feeling the slow rise and fall from his breath. 

Eddie hums, his hand coming to that space at the back of your neck that eases everything in your body that you’re used to holding tight. “How you feeling, honey?”

“Good,” you mumble. Then, wondering if he can feel the heavy beat of your heart. “Nervous.”

“Okay,” he says, fingers stroking and squeezing at your tender skin. “What are you nervous about? Anything we can fix?”

You let that thought sit. You are still learning how much Eddie means it when he says things like that. Still practising the belief that Eddie wants you to share your worries, carry some of the burden for you. The responsibility of trying to shed the weight, the disappointment of knowing some of it just has to be carried.

You’re resigned to telling him, but finding the exact reason for the nerves twisting your stomach takes its own time. With anyone else, you’d be worried about pain, about what happens if you have to stop. These concerns float away on their own at the feeling of Eddie’s hand stroking at you, his lips pressing kisses at your temple. Then you land on it, and press your face deeper against the softness of his shirt.

“I don’t know, I guess- What should I do?” You ask, voice small. “So it’s good for you, too.”

You feel his sigh from the rise in his chest, the shake of his head from the brush of his hair against your cheek. 

“Will you look at me?” He asks, waiting for you to tilt your head to find him. “You want the truth?” You nod, chin still tight to his shirt. Eddie’s eyes narrow a touch, leaning down conspiratorially. “It will feel good for me,” he starts, his free hand rubbing at your waist. “If we can get your pussy all soft, first.” A surprised throb between your legs has you clenching down on nothing, close to whimpering at the gentle roughness of Eddie’s voice. “All soft, and wet enough that I can just slide in, fill you up easy. Making you cum on my cock, sweet thing. That’s what’ll feel good, for me.” Eddie gives you a wolfish grin as he starts walking you backwards towards his bed, raising his eyebrows in question. “Think we can do that?”

It’s easy, then. “Yes, Eddie.”

“Mm, my good girl,” he says, holding you with the backs of your knees pressed to the side of his mattress, his nose at your temple. “Can I kiss you?”

Even easier. “Yes, Eddie.”

His lips press soft across your cheek and down to your mouth, warm and waiting for him. He's gentle with you, none of the fierceness you've felt in Eddie's kisses more recently. Like he's restraining himself, learning how you like to be touched in the lead up to something new. Your hands find his shoulders, soft cotton of his shirt, and rub at the fabric. His tongue flicks subtly against your bottom lip, but you're already desperate to taste him for real, letting him press deeper without any more prompting. 

You feel it at the sound of his laugh, the sudden curve of his lips, the huff of air from his nose against your cheek. The addictive high of showing Eddie how shameless he makes you, the knowledge that he sees you as you are. Not a wallflower here, or a naïve girl. Not an ingénue, to be taken advantage of, or protected from corruption. 

With Eddie, you can be as you are. Inexperienced and desperate in equal measure, as nervous as you are sure. 

"Fuck," Eddie breathes, pulling away only to blink down at you for a couple seconds before he captures your mouth again, tongue pressing to yours, hot and wet. You whine slowly, rising in volume, your fingers clasping at him. "S'alright," he soothes, giving you another press to your pout. His hand rubs at the back of your neck, encouraging you to lean your head into his support, give him space to leave plush kisses down the side of your throat. 

"Eddie," you whisper, softer than you'd expected. Not a moan, or even a plea for more. Just to say it, to feel the shape of his name in your mouth again. 

"So sweet," Eddie says, voice a wonderful vibration against your sensitive neck. "Sweetest girl I've ever seen- fuck. Can I?" His hands tug at the hem of your sweater and you nod desperately, helping him pull it off over your head. His lips return to your skin the second the material is on the floor, a wet press down to the softness of your chest. You feel his smile, his excited breath. He sucks, pulls at your flesh until it aches and you squirm. “Mm,” he sighs. “Can’t help it. Wanna mark you up-”

Gentle hands peel your bra from your chest, the tenderness vanishing with his tongue finding the pert bud of your nipple, treating the sensitive peak to wet warmth and friction that has your toes curling. The quick scrape of teeth makes you bat at Eddie's shoulder even as your body tilts to follow his mouth when it retreats. 

He gives the other similar treatment, groaning when your fingers drift upwards to tug at his hair. Another little squeak at the graze of his teeth and he’s pulling away to look at you. Your heart jumps at the sight of him, hair mussed from burying himself into your skin, face a light pink, lips wet and kissed dark. The way his eyes flick about you, you’re sure you must be in a similar state. 

Eddie’s throat bobs. “Wanna sit up on the bed, there?”

You nod, letting him help you up to the mattress and stand between your swinging legs.

“Need to go over something else, before we really get started,” he tells you, walking you back to sit on the bed, legs swinging off the side. Eddie drops to his knees to take your ankle in hand and pull at your laces. He sets your sneakers to the side, pings your socks over after them. He presses tickling kisses up your calves, eyes all bright when you laugh and kick at him slightly. 

Once he’s back at your height, his hands move to your waistband, thumbing at the button of your shorts. “You know that any time you wanna stop, you just say, okay? I mean it, sweet thing.” He pops the button, pulls at the zip. When his hands smooth under the denim to your hips, helping pull them down, he continues. “Doesn’t matter when. Even if I’m making this face-” He scrunches his nose up and lets his tongue hang out in a gross approximation of his expression when he cums and you can’t help but cover your eyes at the image. “What, you don’t like it?”

“That’s not what you look like!”

“That’s right, you’re the expert now, huh? This better?” He asks, stretching his lips flat and crossing his eyes. 

“Stoh-op!” You cry, somewhere between giggly and mortified. Eddie’s face settles back into its regular pretty softness, all shining amused eyes and laugh lines. 

“That’s exactly what you say to me if you want me to, mm? Or slow down or anything else you want, okay?”

“Yes, Eddie,” you murmur, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. “Will you,” you swallow, playing with the neckline of his shirt. “Can you keep talking to me? While…”

“You say that like I'm gonna be able to stop talking. Hips up, sweetheart,” he says, helping you lie back so he can pull at your shorts. “Nah,” he breathes, hands disappearing to drag his shirt over his head. “You’ll be sick of my voice by tomorrow.”

Eddie helps you shuffle up the bed, your head falling easy to the good pillow. 

“Never,” you tell him, arms opening to pull him in. He finds your mouth again, kisses a little more desperate, already a touch breathless. Your fingers brush at the back of his hair, soft curls between his shoulder blades. 

Eddie’s hand dances over the soft skin of your stomach, pulling giggles from you when he hits ticklish spots. His fingers edge at the frilled waistband of your panties, waiting for your hips to tilt towards him to dip inside. 

“Oh, honey,” he says with a gentle pout, fingers meeting the hot wet warmth between your legs. “Should’ve told me you were feelin’ desperate.”

Your thighs twitch at the first gentle circle around your clit. Eddie’s thick fingers, the roughness at their ends that catches the sensitive bud so perfectly with each little rub. Already your mind feels light with pleasure, body sinking into the bliss of being touched by Eddie. You’re caught between watching his hand where it disappears, the impression of his knuckles moving under blue cotton, and pulling up the courage to stare back at Eddie as he scans every twitch of your face. He grins at you when you manage to turn to him, licking his lips quickly. The little peek of his tongue, the memory of all the ways it makes you weak for him, has your legs kicking and twitching.  

“Feels good, yeah?” He asks, eyes flickering to your lips as they open to let out a moan. “Want me to open this pussy up, sweet thing? Get you ready for me?”

You like that, enough that you nod desperately without thinking twice. “Yeah, want- please, Eddie?”

“Jesus,” he huffs a laugh, his fingers easing downwards only to drag slick from your pussy back up to your twitchy clit. “So fucking good, baby. Say please again?”

Your hips tilt up, chasing his hand though he makes no move to deprive you of it. Your whole body feels hot; from his words, his voice, as much as his touch. When you chance a look in Eddie’s eyes, all the warm brown has been swallowed up, leaving his gaze dark and intent on you. You curl your fingers into his shoulder, stare at the pick hanging from his necklace, swaying with the subtle movement of his torso following the pace of his arm. “Please, please, Eddie.”

You make a high noise of protest when his fingers pull away from your bud, shivers running up your spine at Eddie’s patronising coo, the jutting of his plush bottom lip. “Like I said, no patience. Isn’t that right, sweet thing?” He sighs, pushes at your thighs to catch a glimpse of the dark, sodden material between your legs. “Just gotta get these off you, give me space to work, hm?” 

Eddie disappears from your side, moving down the bed to sit between your legs. His fingers hook quick into your waistband to pull your panties down your thighs. 

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, rubbing the wet cotton between his fingers. “Maybe you can be patient. You been wet all day, pretty?” You watch him lean over, hooking your panties over the headboard.

“Eddie,”

He only flashes you a grin, hand strokes at your thigh, fingers digging into the softness to push your leg back. You feel the sticky split of your cunt as it opens up for him, the wave of cool air against your heat. 

“Fuck, look at her,” Eddie breathes, dropping down to his front. His wide eyes blink in near fascination, like it’s anything new to him, watching your cunt flex and shine. “You want two?”

You clench down at the thought. “Yeah.”

Eddie hums, nips at the skin of your leg as he drags his fingers through your slick. The first press inside is a good stretch, lacking the edge of pain that comes with three. They sink inside easily with a wet noise that would have you squirming away if you weren’t so fuzzy in the head, so desperate for the pleasure Eddie’s touch promises. The pads of his fingers find the spot at the end of you that he has mapped out, pussy fluttering around his fingers in protest every time they leave to press back in. 

“Feels good?” Eddie asks, rubbing his face against your leg. You hum. “You want another?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, craving more, wanting everything. “Yes, Eddie.”

“Mm. Open those legs just a little more, baby- yeah, good girl.”

Eddie gives you one final press of his lips to your thigh as he withdraws his fingers, stroking at you again to gather your slick across all three. You feel the blunt ends of his digits at your entrance, the first push and-

“Oh,” you whine, the familiar ache nothing compared to the euphoria of Eddie’s tongue coming to lap at your sensitive clit. Your hands fly down to his hair, clenching around soft curls as if there’s any possibility he might pull away. He groans, sending a pleasant thrum across your nerves. “Eddie, please.”

Your hips twitch when his fingers meet resistance half way deep, but Eddie stops his approach before you have time to register any discomfort. Clenching tight around his half buried fingers, Eddie lathes his tongue, wide and wet, from where his digits disappear inside to the top of your pussy. Your legs kick again, clit throbbing under his attention. He waits patiently for your body to relax into the pleasure, gently pulling his fingers back before pressing even deeper into your supplicating cunt. 

“S’good, Eddie,” you whine, thighs pressing at the sides of his head without your wherewithal. All you know is you can feel him everywhere you need him most. His curls in your hands, tickling the sensitive insides of your legs. His tongue on your clit, gentle sucks that feel like kisses. His fingers filling you, stretching you and rubbing just right at the top wall of your cunt to send tingles along your spine. Ecstasy builds everywhere you can feel him, from a aching twitch between your legs to a wave that passes over your entire body. 

Eddie’s name escapes you on repeat without shame. You hear him curse, feel the breath of it against your clit, as you squeeze tight around his fingers, pulsing with each peak of the high. 

You finally slump into the mattress again, boneless and tingly. You ignore the wet sound produced by Eddie’s hand leaving your pussy, focusing on how he grins at you as he crawls up your body to settle over you, eyes crinkled at the sides with his satisfaction. 

“Jesus, you’re so hot,” he laughs, leaning down to plant a breathless kiss to your lips. “Thought your thighs weren’t ever gonna let me up. Started planning a life down there, you know?” 

You giggle, but can’t think of anything clever to say back, caught up in the perfect view of Eddie above you. Pink and lightly freckled, lips dark, the entire bottom half of his face shining from looking after you until he drags your slick to his tongue with his thumb. His hair falls forward like a curtain around your faces, tickling your cheeks until you reach up to tuck it back. He leans absent mindedly towards your hand then, enjoying the warmth of your palm. 

As you caress Eddie’s face, he gives you a gentle, wide eyed look. “You still wanna?” He asks, a little rushed. “Cause we can stop right here.”

“I want to,” you answer, just above a whisper, but sounding as sure as you ever have done. “If you do.”

“Yeah,” he nods, like he hasn’t quite registered the full meaning. Then, as if he’s taken it in, “yeah. Okay. Okay.”

Eddie climbs off the bed, leaning over his bedside table to search through the drawer, hands emerging with a box labelled TROJAN and a bottle of clear liquid. You watch him fumble a little with the box until it opens, and pull out a square wrapper that has your face feeling hot, as if the presence of condoms is any more illicit that how Eddie has been touching you already. 

“Look away!” Eddie jokes when he finds your eyes on him as he pulls at his belt. “Gotta keep my modesty in tact.”

You jokingly cover your eyes, hearing his laughter along with the clink of his belt, his zip pulling open. The mattress dips with Eddie’s return, and you peek through your fingers at him before settling your hands at your sides. Your mind fizzes at the sight of Eddie naked, settled on his knees between your thighs. Your eyes trace all the ink that decorates his torso, the softness of his stomach. The patches of dark hair on his chest, between his legs. His cock is a dark pink, swollen enough that the tip kisses his stomach. Eddie drags a hand over it with a soft groan like he’s been tortured by the wait. If he registers your staring, he doesn’t point it out, focusing on tearing open the foil wrapper and pulling a clear condom down over his length with a sigh. 

Your fingers pull at wrinkles in the sheets as Eddie squirts some clear gel from the bottle into his palm, dragging his hand over his cock again to spread it. “What- what’s that?”

“Oh, uh, lube?” Eddie says, throwing the bottle down on the mattress with a bounce. “Makes it easier to, like, move I guess.”

“But-” You’d press your knees together if Eddie weren’t settled between them. “I’m wet.”

Eddie’s eyes flash, lips quirking. “You are, huh?”

“Eddie,” 

“Mm. I know, sweet thing. But a little extra never hurt, mm?” 

“Okay,” you murmur. 

“Okay,” he answers. “I think it’ll be easiest like this, probably?” He drags the spare pillow from his side, tapping your hips gently to place it under you, tilting your body up to him. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, Eddie. S’good.”

“Okay,” he breathes, shuffling forward. With one hand, he strokes gently at your thigh. The other finds your pussy, his thumb playing with clit until you’re feeling pleasured and loose, settled back onto the bed with fluttering eyes. “Still want this, Princess?”

You stare at him, heart sore as you take in his open expression. You can see the evidence of how desperate he must be, how much he wants this. But he looks at you, and you know he meant it when he said you could stop at any time, that he isn’t expecting anything from you, even now.

This body of yours is used to freezing up, follows a routine of tensing and shaking at questions less serious than this. You breathe, swallow, force yourself to look him in the eye. “I want you, Eddie.”

He watches you, searching for your certainty. You smile, a nervous thing, but real, and he nods. “Okay,” he says. “I’m gonna go slow. If it hurts, you say, yeah? Or kick me in the balls - whatever’s easiest.”

You giggle, shaking your head at him, your body feeling loose and relaxed by the time you feel the tip of him catch at your entrance. You make a soft noise at the back of your throat, wanting to watch him but also wanting desperately to keep yourself relaxed and open. You close your eyes, feel the softness of Eddie’s sheets under your fingers.

“Sweet girl,” Eddie murmurs, still circling your clit as the tip of him sinks inside. You feel the aching stretch of him, the pleasant warmth of Eddie’s cock under rubber. He’s saying something, talking to you like he promised, but you’re focused on your breath, on fighting the urge to bear down on him. 

He must be a couple inches deep when he stops and pulls back only to press forward again and you think, for a second, you will be able to lay back and take all the pleasure Eddie always gives you, but-

His thumb circles just perfect at your clit and your pussy flutters, the new tightness resisting the slow press of his cock. It’s a sudden, shocking hurt that has your hips flinching to another stab of pain. Before you can help it your body is tensing all over, a soft pained sound escaping your throat. 

“Fuck,” Eddie says, voice rough, and that the squeeze of your pussy must feel good doesn’t even register. You can only think that he must be as frustrated with your body as you are. Not in control, but a witness to it falling back into routine, pulling taught even as Eddie starts hushing softly. The more you tense, the tighter you feel, the pleasant ache of him pushing inside quickly turning to a stinging stretch that has you clenching fists in the sheets, tears springing to your eyes. 

Eddie pulls out from you, and your chest throbs.  

“I’m sorry,” you cry, wanting to close your legs and hide away from him. 

Eddie’s warmth doesn’t vanish as you fear. In fact it grows as he leans over you, an arm coming to circle your waist. You feel his free hand at your hair, stroking it back from your face. “Look at me, baby,” he murmurs, his breath a gentle caress against your cheek. “You’re in that head, mm? C’mon out.”

The tears that had been bubbling under your eyelids spring free when you open them, tracking down your cheeks as Eddie shakes his head. He wipes each of them away with his thumb until they stop coming. “Sweet thing,” he breathes. “It hurt, and you needed to stop. It’s okay.”

His thumb strokes over your cheek again and you lean into it, resting your palm at the back of his hand as you sigh. Your fingers weave with his, everything better now that you can touch him, now that you can’t run away into your head away from his voice, so close to you.

“Wanna get dressed? We can watch something, mm?”

You shake your head immediately, feeling determined. “Can we try again?”

“We don’t have to-”

“I want to, Eddie.” You assure, hoping he believes you. You rub your cheek into his palm again. “But, can we stay like this?”

There’s a pause as Eddie blinks at you, then his mouth turns up. “Wanna change tactics, huh, Princess?” You nod, watching as he pulls away briefly to help pull the pillow out from under your hips, his hands pressing at your thighs so he can settle properly between them. You whine softly at the feeling of him, still hard and pulsing, between your legs. 

Eddie comes back to you with a kiss, lets you wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close, get your fingers pressed to his warm skin, playing with the ends of his hair. 

“Forgot who I was dealing with, didn’t I?” He says, rolling his hips so the tip of his cock drags over your twitchy clit. Your toes curl, the ball of your foot stroking a little at the back of Eddie’s calf as your legs curl round him. “My girl needs to touch me all over, huh?”

Eddie grins down at you, wiggles his hips just to hear you gasp at the friction of your clit, feel the way your digits dig at him, your right hand rubbing at a lock of his hair. Tension pours from your body at the weight of him all over you, the chance to watch Eddie’s joy at touching you, the pleasure he feels in tandem with yours at every roll of his hips.. 

He kisses you again, then both your cheeks and your nose and chin, peppers them in quick succession across your neck to get you giggly and soft. When he emerges, you watch each other. Eddie’s gaze flicks about your face while you count down the checklist of your favourite features; dimples and quirked lips, wrinkles at the sides of his eyes and laugh lines.

“Again?” He asks, one hand moving from your thigh to grasp his cock between you. You nod, press your digits into Eddie’s shoulder as his tip opens you up. 

“Good fucking girl,” he breathes through the first slow thrust, voice clear as day now he’s so close. “You’re so good, baby.”

Pleasant shivers run through you at the praise. When the stretch makes your body pull taught, your fingers press at Eddie’s skin, letting him feel your need to slow. When the sound of his shaking breath, the sight of his eyes fluttering at the tightness of your cunt around him, has you excited and pliant again, your fingers playing at the ends of his hair tell him that he can start moving once more. Eddie pulls back each time before pressing deeper, humming you through each new tender stretch until you feel the wiry hair above his cock tease your clit. Your hips tilt, chasing the delicious rub, and you feel Eddie’s cock twitch inside you.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, face dropping into your neck to groan. “How’s it feel?”

Your cunt flutters at the strain in his voice. This time, rather than sending warnings across your body at an unpleasant sting, your pussy bearing down aggravates a dull throb. Like pushing on a sore tooth, it’s painful and addictive all at once, clenching down again for the satisfying feeling of Eddie’s cock twitching inside you, the sound of him groaning against your skin.  

“Good, Eddie,” you say honestly, fingers stroking through his hair. “Will you- can you move?”

“Yeah- fuck,” he nods into your neck, laughing softly. “Just gimme onnnnne second. Jesus. ‘How do I make it good for you?’ She asks, with heaven between her legs.” 

Your body shakes as both of you giggle together, cut off by another whimpering moan from Eddie. “Aw, shit, don’t laugh or I’m really gonna embarrass myself.”

He tilts his head to the side, looking at you with his chin at your collar. His hips pull back, relieving your pussy of the ache until he slides forward again, letting you feel full, the weight and warmth of him inside you. It’s different than his fingers, which map out the best spots and play with them. Eddie’s cock, thick and heavy, drags along all of them at once. 

His face is so close by yours, watching desperately for every sign of pleasure, any hint of discomfort. You open your mouth to reassure him, but all that escapes is a soft, pleased sound that makes his hips stutter.

“Feels good?” Eddie gasps, nodding like he wants to encourage you to agree.

“Yeah, s’good,”

“Fuck,” he says. “You’re gonna want this all the time now, yeah? Need your pretty cunt full of me?”

Pleasant tingles of shame dart up your spine, and one of Eddie’s hands slips between your bodies to rub at your clit again. 

“Yeah? Say it, sweet thing.” He groans, hips stuttering at a clench of your cunt around him. 

“Like being full of you, Eddie,” you whine, fingers tightening in his hair. “Want it all the time.”

“Jesus- Christ, you’re so good,” he breathes, his fingers bullying your sodden clit. The ache of his cock falls away in comparison to the onslaught of stimulation there, leaving only the satisfying resistance to your cunt clenching down, the sweet fullness, the friction against your sensitive walls. “You’re so good, letting me hear you. Your pretty voice- fuck. Just for me. Think you can cum?”

“Uh huh,”

“Yeah? Like this? Just like this?”

You nod desperately, hips twitching towards him. Chasing the rub of his fingers, the feeling of being stretched full when he presses deep, the throb of his cock inside. 

“You cumming, sweet thing?” He asks, as if he can’t see the flutter of your eyes, feel your body clasp around him. “Yeah? Holy-”

Your high is a gentle thing, compared to what you felt with Eddie’s fingers and tongue. A quick rise and fall focused at the top of your cunt that shifts quickly into the numbness of overstimulation. The lasting ache is too present for anything more, but it feels like a promise, a hint of how good it can be with Eddie, if you do this with him again. 

You feel boneless and tired while he finds his pleasure, staring down at your warm, satisfied face as he groans. You can feel him inside, the twitch of his cock as he groans, the sudden warmth behind rubber. 

His body half collapses on yours, sweat slick skin sticking together. You wrap yourself around him, foot stroking at his calf, hands scratching at the back of his scalp while he tries to catch his breath against your neck. You can feel the pound of his heart where your chests press together, know he must feel yours. When they slow in tandem, beating together, you find Eddie’s wide, soft eyes. 

“That-” his voice cracks, his throat clears. “Was that okay?” When you nod, offering a tired smile, he strokes some of your hair back. “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?” He says, waiting for you to nod again. 

You take a shaky breath as Eddie’s softening cock pulls from you, stealing all the soothing warmth inside and leaving you with a sensitive, fluttering pussy. You whimper softly at the tender feeling. “I know,” he breathes. “I know, sweet girl. Gimme one second.”

Shivers run up your spine when Eddie disappears briefly to deal with the condom, a little prickle of something unpleasant at your neck. You’re only starting to replay everything you just did and said that might be shameful, embarrassing, in your head when he returns. Eddie wipes warm damp cloth between your legs. He smooths away the uncomfortable, cooling stickiness. Predictably, he tosses the cloth over his shoulder to fall back into bed and pull you into his chest. There, with his arms tight around you, his adoring gaze set on you, any shame your mind could convince you to feel falls away. Why would you dwell on it, when you can let yourself feel all the warmth Eddie brings? 

You lie together for a few minutes, tracing Eddie’s tattoos. Over and over, you drag your pointer finger over the lines forming CORRODED COFFIN under his ribs, letters on Eddie’s skin.

“Thank you,” you murmur eventually, watching Eddie’s eyebrows pull together. You kiss his chest. “I’m glad it was you.”

“Yeah?” He asks, voice breaking a little at your immediate nod. “Well, uh, thank you for trusting me, sweetheart.”

You lie together until the sweat on your bodies is cool and sticky. When the first shiver runs up your body, Eddie helps you stand from the bed like he expects you to be walking like a new-born deer. You manage into the bathroom by yourself, emerge washed and clad in cosy pyjamas, his soft hoodie. Eddie takes his turn, and returns to bed with steamed warm pink skin and dripping hair that sprinkles droplets on your face when he shakes it out like a dog.

You drift asleep with Eddie’s breath at your ear, his fingers stroking steady at your waist.

You wake the next morning to that same sunlight through blinds, the same dog barking in the distance. If it weren’t for the new ache between your legs, you might have thought you’d dreamt the entire perfect day, woken up to find it was Saturday again.

You turn yourself over to Eddie’s side, find his long bare back, pale and dusted with freckles. In a second, you’ll curl yourself around him, wrap an arm over his torso so he can wake up feeling something like the way you feel when he holds you. 

But now, your rapid pulse pounds in your ears. Even as he sleeps, your body won't allow you to say it, or even whisper it. Your throat closes up with the thought of too much, too soon. 

But you ache to do something, to let the feeling out somehow. Caught between your throbbing heart and the worries that have kept you quiet your whole life, you shuffle forward, reach out, and draw eight letters, one after the other, on the soft skin of Eddie’s shoulder. 

I L O V E Y O U

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

Next Part

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x shy!reader

[talkfastromance4]

Watermelon Sugar–Jake Seresin (An Arrangement Series)

An Arrangement Masterlist

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word count: 3.3k

warnings: some body insecurity, brief smut scene

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Enjoy!

Jake told you about the bbq pool party happening on July 4th, he really did, but you were nervous for two reasons; you didn’t have a suit and you were anxious for him to see you in one. While you were having breakfast on the patio the day before, he was going over how he’d be gone shortly in the morning to do a flyover at the base but then he’d be back at eleven with the others. He insisted you invite Brynne, Serena and Dom but Dom always heads back home to spend the holiday weekend with his family. 

“I think I’ve got all your favorite foods for tomorrow, and some hard seltzers in the fridge by the bar. Is there anything else you need?” he asked and you bit your lip. “What is it, Sugar?”

“I don’t have a nice suit to wear,” you admitted sheepishly. 

“No big deal, let’s go shopping,” he wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin and pulled away from the table. 

“No, wait–” you grabbed hold of his forearm, he looked down at you. “Can–can I go by myself?”

He opened his mouth but then closed it. “Sure. I’ll have Reynolds take you. Buy a suit for every day of the week, okay?” He kissed your hand that was on his arm. 

So you did, you bought the ones that made you feel good in them and decided to wear a blue two-piece with white stars. You also bought a blue wrap to wear over it as a safety blanket when you were in front of Jake. Jake kissed you goodbye before he left to fly and you slept for another hour before getting up and getting ready. 

You’ve just finished putting on red lipstick that matches the red ribbon tied in your hair when Jake gets home. His flight suit is tied around his waist, his hair still a little sweaty and his aviators are hanging off his nose. 

“Don’t you look pretty,” he smiles, tossing his keys and wallet on his dresser. You’ve moved all your makeup stuff in his room, he bought a vanity for you to use along with the makeup you use and a bunch of stuff you’ve only dreamt about using. 

“You look hot, I mean–” you shake your head, “you’re sweaty.” He smirks at your comment but doesn’t really acknowledge it.

“Yeah, it’s a scorcher out there,” he says, sifting through his drawers for an American flag style swim trunks. “Make sure to put on sunscreen. Everyone should be here in an hour.”

“Okay…do you need my help with anything?”

“All taken care of, Sugar. Too bad you’re all dolled up, was gonna see if you’d want to save on water and take a shower with me.” He stands in front of you, tracing the contour of your face with his fingers until they’re under your chin. He tilts your head up. 

You shift in your chair making sure your wrap is covering you. Jake notices, his brows furrowing but again, he doesn’t say anything. You’re thankful for that. 

“Maybe next time,” you finally respond coyly. 

“Okay, Sugar,” his thumb drags over your bottom lip. “I love this color red on you.” 

And then he’s gone heading towards his bathroom singing the chorus to ‘Danger Zone’ before shutting the door. 

***

The party is in full swing and you feel a little more at ease when Serena and Brynne arrive. They gushed about your new suit and admired the other ones you bought. As soon as the three of you entered the pool area, Rooster smiled at Serena who quickly went over to him by the pool. He was standing on the first step, beer in hand and a bucket hat on his head. 

“He better ask for her number today, or Dom is gonna kick his ass,” Brynne sighs watching your friend flirt with the pilot. 

“He hasn’t yet?”

“Nope. And S keeps dropping hints but he’s oblivious.”

“I’ll say something to Jake. I know Rooster’s crazy about her,” you smile then notice Phoenix by the bar. She keeps glancing at Brynne while talking with Bob, her eyes traveling over Brynne’s cherry red suit. “Hey, Brynne, have you met Natasha yet?”

You take Brynne’s hand dragging her around the pool towards the bar and in front of Bob and Natasha. 

“Hey guys, this is Brynne. My friend and coworker. Brynne, this is Bob and Natasha,” you introduce. Brynne’s eyes glitter when she meets Natasha’s and they shake hands and Natasha offers to get her a drink. 

They move to the other end of the bar initiating small talk and that makes you happy. Warm, strong arms wrap around your waist and hot lips are on your cheek in a kiss. 

“Hey Sugar, are you thirsty?”

You nod and he moves behind the bar to get one of your hard seltzers, he pops the tab and slips it inside a coozie. He adds a steel straw then hands it to you.

“Did you put sunscreen on?” he asks taking a pull from his own beer. 

“Umm…” you suck on your straw, eyes downcast. 

“Let’s put some on before you go in the pool,” he pats the side of your hip affectionately. “C’mon.”

“Jake, I–”

He gives you no choice and tugs you along towards the house. Coyote and Payback say hello to you, they’re seated on the lounge chairs discussing something about football. Fanboy is relaxing in the sun. 

The cool air feels good from the dry heat outside as you enter the house, Jake still leading you through the house and into the bathroom on the first floor near the laundry room. He opens the closet grabbing a tube of sunscreen. 

“I can put it on myself,” you say quietly, arms crossed over your chest making sure the wrap is still secure around you. 

“I can get your back,” he smiles clicking the top open. “And you can rub my back, too.”

“Jake, I don’t–” you cover your face with your hands. 

“Woah, hey, what’s going on?” 

You shake your head, eyes closed. 

“Sugar, talk to me please. What’s wrong?”

“I’m self-conscious,” you mutter. 

“Self-conscious of what?” he takes hold of your hands and you let him remove them from your face. You open your eyes to stare at your joined hands between you. 

“Of how I look. I’m not tall and toned like Serena is and I don’t have the nice curves like Brynne does…I’m…I’m not–”

“y/n, look at me,” his voice is soft. You force your eyes up, his thumbs are rubbing the backs of your hands. “You’re beautiful, exactly the way you are. Your height, your size, your curves, all of it. I told you you’ve been tempting me since day one and I mean it, you don’t even realize how much. If you don’t want to take off your wrap yet, that’s fine, I’ll get Serena to come and help you.”

“No, she’s busy with Rooster,” you shake your head. You take a deep breath. “You can do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod removing your hands from his. Your eyes stare at his white tank top covered chest as your fingers untie the wrap. You continue to stare at the center of his chest as you pull it off your shoulders and he remains silent. 

“Damn,” he breathes and you finally look up at his face. His green eyes are widening as he moves over your suit. “As I live and breathe, darlin’ you sure are a sight for sore eyes.”

Your cheeks are burning from revealing your suit and from his words. He reaches behind you to get the sunscreen and he pops it open again. He starts at your shoulders, making sure to rub it in under the straps and over the hills of your breasts. Your heart is hammering and you wonder if he can feel it. His fingers tickle your stomach as he rubs in lotion there, and goosebumps appear when he gets the sides. 

“Can you turn around for me?” he asks softly and you do. He squirts more lotion on his hand and starts at your shoulders.

You watch him in the mirror, his face in concentration and you avoid your own gaze in the mirror. He moves your hair over your shoulder and you feel his hand slip down behind the clasp at the center of your back. 

“Here,” you murmur and unhook it so the only thing holding your suit up are your hands cupping it to your breasts. Your eyes meet in the mirror, questions burning in both of your gazes but neither of you voices them as he continues to spread sunscreen on your back. 

Did his hands get hotter? You try to concentrate on your breathing, the tips of his fingers dip a little below the waistband of your bottoms. More goosebumps, more heat. Part of you wants to remove your top and see what happens, part of you wants him to do it. 

To your surprise, Jake hooks the clasp back together and brings your hair back into place. 

“Can you do me now?” he asks your reflection. 

You nod as you readjust  your breasts in your suit so they’re more fitted and you can see Jake watches your every move. The way he’s looking at you fills you with a bit more confidence each time. When you pick up the lotion bottle he yanks off his tank top and turns around, you choke on the air you’re breathing because he’s so tan and muscular. He has freckles on his shoulders and a small birthmark on the very low part of his back. It looks like a heart. 

You squire the lotion in your palm and then swipe your hand over his whole back. His muscles tightened and you were mesmerized by the strength of them as you rub in the sunscreen. You make sure to get his shoulders and up into his neck. Your hand curves with his spine as you go lower and get the sides of his stomach. Without even thinking, your nail traces over that birthmark, Jake takes a deep breath. 

“Okay, turn around,” you say. 

When he does, he crowds your space, his arms caging you in between him and the counter.

“I already got my stomach, can you put some on my nose?” he asks scrunching his nose in indication. 

“Yeah,” you bite your lip and put a little more on your two fingers. You stroke your fingers over his nose and onto his chin, pressing the excess under his eyes and onto his ears. When you’re finished, you keep his face held in your hands.

You stare at each other for a second before lips are on lips and you’re somehow on the counter with your legs wrapped around his waist. His body is hard and hot and muscled against yours, his hands pulling you into him, your back bowing so you’re as close as you can be. Your fingers are in his hair and he moves one hand to cup and squeeze your breast. You moan into his mouth and then he shifts the suit down, his thumb and forefinger tweaking your nipple. You moan again and Jake moves his kisses down your jaw and to your neck and then his mouth is covering your breast. 

His mouth is hot and his tongue is slick and wet as it circles over your nipple. His teeth dig into the swell of your breast while his tongue flicks and presses on your bud. 

“Jake,” you sigh falling against the mirror watching through hooded eyes as he opens his. He keeps his gaze on you as he shifts to your other breast, his hand yanking the suit down. He doesn’t close his eyes until his mouth is on you again, a contented sigh coming from him and you keep your fingers curled in his hair. 

The noises he makes as he suckles on you electrifies your blood cells and you need him closer. It’s when you start to grind your hips against him that you yank on his head. His mouth releases your breast with a pop and his eyes are bright green. 

“We haven’t–we shouldn’t–” you’re panting trying to get the words out because so many thoughts are racing through your mind. 

You’ve opened up to him more, you’re more comfortable with him, you’re sleeping in his bed more frequently but the paperwork and Betty’s health are at the forefront. This is just an arrangement, he’s said you tempt him and he’s been tempting you a lot more too lately. 

“You’re right,” he nods but peppers kisses along your breasts before tucking them back into your suit. “We have guests. I got carried away.”

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“No need to be sorry, Sugar,” he smiles crookedly and shifts on his feet. “I need a few minutes before I can go back out there.”

Your eyes immediately fly down to his waist where you can see a bulge over the stars and stripes of his suit. 

“Oh. Oops,” you bite your lip trying to hide your smile.

“Yeah, oops,” he murmurs, tugging your lip from your teeth into a kiss. He groans when you kiss him back excitedly. “Okay, trouble, time to head out before we’re discovered.”

“You’re the troublemaker,” you tease hopping down from the sink. You pick up your wrap and adjust yourself again. 

***

You went back outside and stepped into the pool water, you also needed to cool down after what you and Jake did. The rest were in the pool and Jake jumped in with a big splash then took you in his arms. Rooster started to complain he was hungry an hour later. You were the only one left in the pool floating on one of the floaties Jake bought special for the day.

Rooster and Serena were sitting on the pool steps and Brynne and Phoenix were sitting on the edge talking. You watched Jake as he gathered all of the grill stuff, and he even put on an apron that said ‘Kiss the Chef’. You suck on your drink through your straw watching his arms flex as he cleans the grill, a sheen of sweat glistening on his shoulders. 

You slip off the floaty and exit the pool just as Serena and Rooster wade in deeper, their fingers loosely linked. Jake’s eyes are on you as you walk towards him, water rolling over your body and when you’re close enough you lean up and peck his lips softly. His eyes flutter and he grins.

“What was that for?” 

“Your apron says to kiss the chef, so I did,” you giggle and finish off your drink. 

“I’ll kiss you too, Hangman,” Roster makes kissy noises behind you.

“Hard pass, Bradshaw. Go get your kabobs, man,” then he turns his attention back on you. “Did you put more sunscreen on?”

“Yeah, but it won’t work. I’ll still burn,” you shrug then turn around but Jake swats at your ass and you yelp. 

You grab another seltzer and the start taking pictures with Serena, Brynne and Phoenix. Jake and Bradley look your way when you all squeal as Coyote does a cannonball in the water. Phoenix and Brynne exit the pool getting cozy at the bar, Brynne even kisses Phoenix’s cheek for a picture.

“That’s good, Brynne is chill compared to the last girl Phoenix was with,” Jake comments.

“Yeah, your Sugar sure is sweetening up our group, ain’t she?” Rooster nudges Jake’s shoulder then goes over to Serena who is struggling with her beer bottle. 

When Jake has the food on the grill, he retreats inside to grab the extra plate of watermelon Rhea had cut up for the day. Jake always makes sure she spends holidays with her own family and he brought the plate out to you. You snatch a piece and take a bite, the juice dribbles down your chin and into your cleavage. You hold the piece up to Jake and he takes a bite, juice dribbling down his chin as well. 

You giggle then lean on the pool edge to swipe it from his lips. You suck it off your thumb.

“See, you’re trouble,” he cocks his head to the side and starts to stand.

“Leave the watermelon,” you tell him and snatch the floaty. You climb back on and make grabby hands for the plate which he hands you. “Thank you.”

The food is great as you all sit down to eat it and then Rooster runs off to grab the fireworks he brought. He sets them up with the help of Bob. Jake hands you some water because all you’ve had all afternoon are seltzers. The dry heat is really getting to you and your suit is starting to feel uncomfortable which only means one thing.

You’ve got a sun burn. 

You sit on Jake’s lap as Bob sets the fireworks off and you start to shiver now that the sun is no longer in the sky. Rooster and Serena were making out as the fireworks lit up the sky. You remember to tell Jake that Serena wants Bradley to ask for her number. 

“He’s an idiot, he has no game,” Jake shakes his head, “I’ll tell him.”

Everyone is gone by eleven o’clock and Jake tuts when he sees how red you are as you remove your makeup in his bathroom. 

“Sugar, you’re so sunburnt. You didn’t put more on after I did it for you, did you?”

“I did, I swear! But I told you…sunscreen doesn’t work on me for some reason,” you flinch when you dry your face off with the towel. 

He sighs heavily. “Take a cool shower and I’ll put aloe on you.”

You do what he says and it hurts when you put on the satin pajama set. The straps are thin but hit your burning skin in just the right way. When you exit the bathroom, Jake is already showered and tugging on the draw strings of his basketball shorts. 

“C’mere my little tomato,” he gestures to his bed and you crawl on it delicately. You lay down and lift your shorts up higher on your thighs and the bottom of your shirt. “Sugar…”

“Put it on please,” your body trembles as you shiver some more. Being in the heat all day is finally escaping you as you’re in the controlled temperature of the house. 

Jake rubs it on your thighs first, the cooling sensation of the aloe feels wonderful. It’s colder on your stomach, his fingers brush the underside of your boobs but you’re in too much pain to really get excited about it. 

“You’re gonna have to take your top off so it doesn’t cling to your skin, that’s not going to feel good,” he shakes his head. “You don’t have to sleep in here if you’re uncomfortable–”

“No, can I please? Your sheets are cooler than mine,” you pout and sit up delicately. 

“Of course you can,” he smiles gently. You begin to lift your top off but it pinches at your shoulders and you cry out. “I got it.” 

Jake removes it as softly as he can, folds it, places it at the foot of his bed and puts more aloe on his hands. He’s gentle as he rubs it over your shoulders and down your arms. By the time he gets to your back, it’s already dried on your front. He puts some on your hands and more on your chest because that’s where it’s the worst. 

“I’m getting you SPF 100 so this doesn’t happen again.” he sets the bottle on his nightstand. Your picture in a small frame.

“It won’t work–” you start to say slipping under his sheets. 

“Yes it will. SPF 30 was no help to you, Sugar.”

You sigh as you settle into his sheets, the coolness helps with the aloe but you’re shivering like crazy. Jake grabs your hands and blows on them. 

“If you wake up and it still hurts, I’ll put more on you.”

“You don’t mind I’ll be sleeping with my top off?” your teeth chatter.

“Sugar, I wouldn’t mind if you decided to sleep nude,” he kisses your cheek and shuts the lights off.

#an arrangement series #an arrangement #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman fic #hangman fluff #hangman x reader #hangman smut #jake sersin smut #top gun maverick writing #top gon fic #top gun maverick fic #hangman writing #jake seresin writing

[neuroprincess]

Broken Rules - Larissa Weems/Female Reader

Larissa Weems/Female Reader

Summary: An unfair deal, that's all Y/N gets from Larissa and was enough until it wasn't anymore. After a few glasses of wine and sudden courage she questions the woman, this could work or ruin everything for good.

Classification: +18, Angst, Slight Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, arguing, harsh words, swearing, slight sex, injury, denial of feelings, unrequited love, jealousy, hurt/comfort

Word count: +6400

Unrevised

There are three essential rules for this deal, in black and white, very clear imposed since the first night they spent together. The third is crystal clear, not least, never spend the night, this one is understandable considering the academy and how awkward a teacher leaving the principal's living quarters so early would be. That's the excuse Y/N gives herself every time she has to sneak through the halls of Nevermore in the middle of the night. Second rule, never tell anyone. This kills her inside, in these months all she wants to do in good and bad moments is to share with someone about how she feels, not even with the blonde can she talk because it would imply the first and most important rule. No falling in love, which means they don't talk about anything but professional matters, they don't kiss unless they are having sex and that is all Y/N can get out of this deal. Sex. Stress relief. Sometimes some sexual gift, nothing personal.  

The teacher repeats the rules mentally as she serves herself with a glass of wine, standing with back to her mistress who finishes paperwork at the office desk. Well, she arrived at the appointed time, but Larissa ended up delaying some important matters and now has to finish. Y/N asked if she should leave, receiving only a negative nod. The week was more exhausting than usual, a visit from a couple of parents for an unexpected situation, some student managed to break the plumbing of the bathroom sink and a gorgon accidentally petrified his friend, all problems that earned her complex resolutions, headache and extra paperwork to fill out. 

"So, why the parents came here?" she asks, still not turning around, putting the bottle in the same place and raising the glass to lips, sipping the sweet liquid "Both Nikolas and Lucinda are great kids." 

"They really are, but none of their families support the relationship between vampires and werewolves. Nothing that you, being a normie, understand."  

"Well, I may not be an outcast, but I live with them every day and I am in this world. You are one of those who advocates harmony between normies and outcasts, I don't understand..."  

"It's not the same thing." the blonde says simply and shrugs, her tone of voice unchanged, eyes still fixed on the printed words.  

Y/N huffs and takes a generous sip of wine, feeling the burning in the throat from alcohol, sorrow and a little bit of anger. She stares at her boss, clothes perfectly clean and well ironed, the red lipstick highlighting her fleshy lips, hair styled, long fingers wandering across the surface and blue eyes standing out in the whole scene, literally a sight to take breath away and maybe the rest of the sanity the younger still possesses after swallowing the entire contents of the glass in seconds. The glass is filled again and soon is empty, this repeats until she drinks the fourth in a row, the burning no longer bothers her, the heat rises through her body, head spins for a millisecond before turning to face Larissa again. She sighs and walks at a slow pace until she is in front of the large desk, her mind once full of things to say slowly becoming blank, void, just as it always is around the tall woman. Perhaps this is the spell and reason for them to continue in this unfair deal, it's like the white witch has put a spell on the simple peasant human, who would kiss her feet in adoration. 

"What?" Weems asks raising her gaze for the first time since the other entered the room, a little annoyed by the sudden proximity "Did you drink before coming here?" the teacher just denies with a nod, continuing to stare at her with a neutral expression "So why do you look like shit? You know, I don't care, as long as you didn't show up in front of the students like that."  

The words sound normal to her, but to Y/N it's a painful feeling in the chest similar to an anvil being thrown, hurts, weighs down and she can't move staying in the same place. The neutral expression falls apart, eyes instantly getting watery and whole face burning as she fights the imminent cry, in fact she only realizes she is crying when a drop hits the document in front of her, the first of many that start to fall even though she tries to contain them. She knows she doesn't look like shit but at most blushing after drinking. There is no way she looks like shit because between the end of classes and going to the principal's office passed by her own dorm to get ready, try to look impeccable for their weekly "date", put on her new dress bought a few weeks ago on a visit to Jericho, touched up the daily makeup, brushed hair and put on her favorite perfume, the only one that didn't make Larissa complain.  

"Y/N?" the voice is low and nonchalant when she calls her, with a hint of concern that goes unnoticed.  

"I don't look like shit...I've tidied myself up, my hair is in place, I'm smelling good.... Why the hell do you hate me?" she asks finally after trying to defend herself uselessly, they are simply unimportant words when a dull expression takes over the blonde's face and then surprise at the question "You always act like I'm inferior, then say I look like shit and accuse me of getting drunk around the students, something I would never do because I love and respect them. Am I such a cheap person to you?"

"I didn't mean that..."  

"Then what did you mean?" the question is angry, totally emotional, and the voice comes out ragged, raw with genuine desire to understand the other woman.  

"Y/N, you are on dangerous ground, this is against our deal." Larissa says gently after pulling herself together from the initial shock "Don't do something you'll regret."  

"Damn, so that's what I am to you? I try to lie to myself that I am someone for you, someone you can.... Just can..." she tries to find words that get stuck in the throat and mind turns to blank mist again when she realizes that the principal is staring at her, an almost smile rising on lips, not a smile of encouragement, seems almost cruel like a hunter waiting for the hare to fall into the trap and the younger would not give her this taste or reason to smile "I am and always will be just sex for you, right?" the blonde just nods in agreement "Right." 

The teacher just nods while kneeling, which leaves the taller one momentarily confused until she finds her crawling to the middle of her legs, no longer caring about the condition of the dress, makeup drips down cheeks, eyes are distant and face is flushed, not in a positive way, now Y/N looks like shit and it's not a good feeling knowing she's the cause of it. Something presses Larissa's chest making the smile that was rising die instantly. Everything is too fast, the usually gentle fingers of the younger are quick and imprecise, desperate to lift the gray dress up to waist length. The woman lifts her hips helping, soon the lace panties are exposed, framing the path between the long pale legs. The fabric is just set aside as the head disappears under the table and fabric of the dress, the principal's hands grab a handful of the girl's hair pulling her to herself hoping to feel more pleasure, but there is nothing but a shiver and the slight sensation, she simply cannot delight in the skilled tongue circling the clit, nor touches that usually make her melt. A nagging sensation seeps into her chest and stomach churns, even as she closes the eyes trying to erase the pitiful image of the younger, unsuccessfully, the blotchy and weeping face invades her mind, it's intrusive and strangely... painful. Blue eyes open, she stares into the ceiling mirror feeling a little nauseous at the sight and a hand pulls Y/N's hair back, stopping her from continuing, also making her unbalanced falling on the floor and hitting the back of head against the wooden end of the desk. She just groans in pain, confused in a drunken state and not understanding exactly what had just happened.  

"What is it?" she asks taking a her own hand to head where it hurts, a little surprised to find the part slightly moist, but she doesn't care, everything hurts and that's the lesser of it "Isn't that what you wanted?!"  

"It was, actually it is. But not like this. Clean yourself up first, look decent."  

"So I have to look decent to fuck you? Got it." Y/N laughs humorlessly but stands up to do it, hands resting on the woman's thighs to stand without caring that she is being ignored, the blonde looks at some specific spot on the wall avoiding looking down "I'll be right back." she walks with slow steps to the bathroom attached to the office, closing the door behind her.  

"Shit!" Larissa lets out the air she didn't even realize was holding and lowers her gaze, the memory of the girl there still present, a shiver runs through her body and eyes widen as she notices contrasting crimson on the pale knees, the perfect mark of fingers stamping across skin. She barely has time to think about it as the sound of something falling in the bathroom makes her jump out of the chair "Y/N?" without an answer. 

She waits a few seconds still unanswered until walking quickly to the bathroom, opening the door without knocking or asking for again, extremely relieved to find the younger bent over the sink rubbing her face with the running water, black mascara staining the white sink, a little red mixed in. A decorative plant is scattered on the floor, that is the less important thing. The image scares Weems, she freezes in place for an instant and the next is running around the bathroom looking for a towel or something that can wipe the head of her, grabbing a white hand towel from the cabinet. Without a second thought she pushes Y/N lightly, opening space so she can moisten the cloth and gently presses it where the injury was.  

"What are you doing?" the teacher asks confused as she lifts the face, finally seeing her condition clearly in the reflection of the mirror, feeling even more miserable.  

"You hurt your head..."  

"And? Not like it matters." she shrugs, grabbing another towel from the cabinet to dry her face, wiping the last remnants of makeup off "You can drop it and go back to your place, I just need a moment."  

The woman drops the towel and walks away with hands outstretched in surrender, almost rolling the eyes at such stubbornness.  

"I'm going back to the paperwork, you can go to your dorm."  

 "You don't want to anymore?" Y/N asks with head down, not having the courage to look her in the eye.  

"No." she replies simply and walks away, her conscience seemingly clear that she seems to be physically fine despite everything. 

She sits down in the chair again, staring at nothing, and eyes wander to the table in the corner of the office, the bottle of wine reserved for the night practically empty. That explains everything. Y/N is weak to alcohol, one glass is enough for her to be a complete mess for the rest of the night, one bottle can be... terrible. After two minutes without any movement or sign of life from inside the bathroom the worry takes over, what if she fell in the bathroom? No, there would be noise. Or she sat down and lost consciousness? If she is feeling sick... Larissa interrupts her own thoughts trying to tell herself that Y/N is a grown woman and can handle it, while she can barely control the panic with the idea that something serious is happening. It is a bloody cut, the one on the back of the head, one of the most fragile and dangerous places to hit. She is brought out of thoughts when she hears the door being opened, immediately looking for the younger and sees her struggling to walk, barefoot with the shoes in one hand and the other holding the towel. Face now clean, hair pinned up and she looks a little more sober, only looks, because legs cross each step, causing her to almost fall over after losing the support of the door frame. 

"Leave me..." she whispers when feels the presence of the other woman, who has run in stride to support her "I'll handle this on my own."  

"Fuck off, stop being stubborn." the tall takes her in arms ignoring the protests to leave her on the floor and walks quickly to the other door attached to the office, this one leads to a private bedroom "Be quiet." she says harshly when the younger doesn't stop complaining, trying to get out of her arms. That manages to make silence reign.  

Everything goes by like a blur, Y/N being placed on the soft bed, large elegant hands working to push the hair aside so that the severity of the injury can be checked, to great relief discovering it to be something superficial, but still needed some extra care. The small cut is carefully cleaned with cotton, saline and antiseptic, then gently dried, Larissa improvises a bandage with gauze and adhesive tape. The pain makes the girl moan from time to time, no matter how hard she tries to hold herself together it's almost impossible, the drunkenness that washes over her body also takes away any extra resistance. When the bandage is finished she tries to get up, being stopped by the same hands that took care, making her sit against the mattress again. They stare at each other for a few seconds before the older one turns her face away not supporting the eye contact.   

"Now can I leave?" Y/N asks after a few minutes of awkward silence.  

"No. Lie down." the blonde orders and gets up, walking to the closet from where she pulls out extra pillows and blankets, when turning around she almost drops everything on the floor at the sight "Please, put your clothes back on."  

Y/N props herself up on elbows and stares at her confused, sex is the only thing Larissa wants from her, she has made that clear many times and half an hour ago too. It's just sex. That's what sums up the "relationship" and the reason for the deal that makes her days miserable. And in the same night the woman denies it twice, in fact now seems even disgusted to look at her. She rises feeling defeat coursing inside, from flesh to bone, everything hurts, but nothing compares to the pain that forms in her chest every second she spends in this place. Soon her underwear and dress are put back on, the fabric already crumpled, a bit mismatched, very different from how it was before.  

"Here." the principal places two pillows on the left side of the bed, fluffing them and indicating with a hand for the other to lie down, which she does without asking questions despite the extremely confused look, as if it were nothing more than a strange dream "You need to stay awake for at least an hour, to make sure it was nothing more serious, after that you can go. " the younger just nods, carefully laying down, a groan of pain escapes as head reaches the pillow, soon a pill is placed in front of her "Painkiller." 

"Is it dipyrone?"  

 "No, ibuprofen, I know you are allergic to dipyrone."  

"Thank you."  

"Okay." Larissa shrugs and walks to the other side of the bed, sitting up "You know we can't continue after today, right?!"  

"Why?" her voice comes out broken, a lump forming in the throat at the mere thought of not being with the woman anymore, even if only for sex.  

"We broke the rules, you talked about feelings, I took care of you and now I'm letting you spend the night, none of that is part of the deal." they don't look each other in the eye for different reasons, the blonde sighs before continuing "That breaks the idea of friends with benefits."  

"To be friends with benefits we should be friends in the first place, but I don't think we ever were. You despise me." Y/N whispers bitterly and turns away, she would not give the other the pleasure of seeing her cry.  

"You're right."  

Time passes torturously slowly, Y/N tries not to cry again, which becomes impossible with the indifference and tension that builds more and more every second, then concentrates on not letting it become obvious, holding back sobs and shaking body. Everything hurts, face, chest, hands gripping hard on the pillow and an annoying headache, despite having taken ibuprofen earlier. For an hour and a half Larissa calls her sporadically to check if she is awake or not, occasionally asking if she feels nauseous or anything else, soon discovering that these are symptoms of post-drinking so she stops asking little by little until is completely quiet. That's when the teacher finally falls asleep, the blonde and usually kind (to others) principal in her mind, still trying not to believe it's over. Trying to fool herself with the idea, maybe the slightest possibility, that it's a nightmare where everything they had just slipped through her fingers because of a bottle of wine. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A week later Y/N finds herself running through the halls of Nevermore, dressed impeccably in a casual women's suit set in her favorite color, high heels tapping against the floor, hair brushed presentably, makeup light and she was glad to finally have the bandage off, it would surely spoil the perfect look to finally meet her students' parents. It has been six months of preparation for this moment, of course there are parents who were not very receptive to the idea of their children being taught by a simple normie who was not even raised in Jericho, just as there were those who supported her hiring and seem equally excited to meet her. Parents' Weekend is the opportunity to do that. She stops in front of the door and sighs, smoothing the fabric of the suit so that it is totally flawless, then smoothed the thin tank top under the blazer, for some reason it seems to be looser against the chest and dangerously close to the edge of the neckline, a few necklaces adorning majestically. The teacher knows she should be feeling fabulous with this look and the greetings she has rehearsed for hours memorized, but nothing takes her away from the miserable state she has been in for a week since she woke up alone in Weems' bedroom, with only a note on the bedside recommending that she go to the doctor and the best way out, without the danger of being seen, would be through the side door. Since then she has been trying to pull herself together, which means trying to avoid the woman as much as possible until it stops hurting.  

"You can do it, Y/N. You can take anything for 10 seconds, so just start over and everything will work out." she whispers to herself, closing the eyes in concentration "Allons-y!"  

And it all worked out, better than she could have imagined, the principal was nowhere to be seen, at least not in her field of vision. The first parents to show any interest were a vampire's parents, of the youngest, who complimented her highly on how she helped him adjust away from home, the three greeted each other happily before a gentle conversation. Which caught the attention of another vampire family, these were quieter, but equally kind. After an hour of the event she couldn't even count on fingers how many parents she managed to talk to and captivate, all making clear that despite initial reservations they had a good surprise and results with her hiring. This cheered the younger up a bit, at least something seems to be working out in her life, it's that saying, lucky in gambling and unlucky in love. 

"So you are the beautiful young lady my son talks so much about?" a voice comes up behind her after saying goodbye to Ajax's parents, when she turns around finds a tall man with striking features, sculpted body highlighted by the cut of his suit and a pair of mesmerizing chocolate eyes "Lucien Corbyn..." 

"Elijah's father?!" the parental connection between them is obvious, the boy being a souped up image of him "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Corbyn! Your son is a great student and very kind." she extends a hand expecting the man to shake, being surprised by the touch of his rough hand leading hers to his lips, where he leaves a lingering kiss, staring her in the eyes the whole time.  

"The pleasure is all mine." he whispers and smiles lowering his hand, still holding hers "Of course Eli is, he's my son and was raised by me...only me. All credit to his father." and blinks, trying to hint that he is a solo and consequently single father ��

"I'm not surprised, you two are so much alike. Strong genes." Y/N comments nonchalantly, not realizing how this affects the instinct of the werewolf, who raises an eyebrow feeling audacious and also lucky to have finally found the perfect woman after the former wife's leaving.  

She may not have noticed, but the tall woman across the courtyard did and felt extremely uncomfortable at the sight, Larissa was present at the event the entire time, the first 40 minutes spent solving small problems and talking to the parents who donate money to the academy funds. Trying to be as invisible as possible, at the same time her eyes were always on her, the girl who torments days and takes away sleep at night with the simple fact of existing. Sometimes she got lost in the topic of some parent because her focus was too much on the teacher interacting with the families and giving attention to each one of them, after she pulled herself together, she excused and tried to dissipate it from mind, uselessly, since in the next second she was already doing the same thing. And she mentally thanked for repeating the behavior. Corbyn is a wealthy werewolf, leader of the wolf pack, they went to university together, in fact the man was a great conqueror until he married and had the son, but werewolves like big families, have lots of children to make the pack bigger, and he has made it clear in the last two years that he is in search of another mate to give him that.  

She greets the mother of some siren she can't even remember the name of, and walks slowly over to where the pair are talking, watching the interaction from a distance. Lucien still holds her hand, his other hand caressing her elbow, but Y/N barely notices because she is too excited talking about his son, one of the favorite children. His eyes are no longer on her face, the blonde can see the lust stamped on the werewolf's face as he stares at a lower point, the teacher's breasts. The two mounds are partially exposed by the neckline of the tank top she wears under her blazer, showing flushed skin and a small part of her lace bra, shit, even she can't look away and has been there, she knows every detail by heart, the softness to the touch, the nipples and how sensitive they can be tearing out sinful moans. Everything about her is sinful and Larissa was once the greatest sinner. As approaches she unconsciously takes off the gray coat, which is landing on Y/N's shoulders in seconds, she is startled by the touch and almost cannot believe it when she hears the familiar voice beside her, nor that the soft delicate gloved hands she misses so much are around shoulders holding her tightly, if it were someone else she might say it feels like a possessive touch.  

"I believe Elijah is expecting his father to spend time with him and not with the teacher." she says with venom in voice, a huge fake smile on the lips, staring at his hand hoping the man gets the hint.  

"You are right, Principal Weems. I am here for my little wolf." Corbyn agrees with an even more fake smile as he understands the message, instead of letting her go he squeezes the hand even tighter and brings it to his lips again "I hope to see you soon, beautiful young lady. The pack can't wait to host a dinner on your behalf." he winks and finally lets her go, looking directly at the blonde "See you later, Principal!" and doesn't get a response.  

Y/N keeps a neutral expression until Lucien disappears from sight soon after finding his son in the crowd and as soon as she doesn't see him uses the arms to try to get rid of the coat, but the long arms stop her and Larissa turn around so that they are face to face, without saying anything she adjusts the piece against the girl's body, covering her breasts and then fastens the buttons quickly. They stare at each other in the process, feeling the strangeness of the moment hit the pit of their stomachs, one feeling nauseous and the other boiling with anger inside, sunk in a feeling similar to jealousy, even if she denies it to herself.  

"It's cold." she says shrugging and adjusts the collar of the coat, not failing to notice how big this looks on Y/N, like a big fancy dress, it's almost.. cute to look at.  

"I have coats, you can have yours back." her voice comes out in a whisper and she tries to take off the coat again, but is stopped by the taller one, arms wrapping around her again so she doesn't do that "Principal Weems..."  

"Let's go inside."  

Before she can refuse she feels herself being held by the hand and dragged across the courtyard, barely able to keep up with the woman's steps, partly because of the height difference and also the heavy piece of clothing larger than her, which drags along the ground, none of them caring. On the way some parents observe the scene, from curious to pitying looks, thinking that maybe the teacher was in trouble for some reason, none of them had seen this angry expression on the principal's face before. She just lowers the gaze as just lets be led, knowing that there is no point in arguing, making a scene in front of parents is the last thing she wants.  

"What the hell were you thinking flirting with a student's father?" Larissa asks loudly, holding herself back from screaming, once they enter her office.  

"I wasn't..."  

"Yes, you were. Corbyn is the leader of a wolf pack, an alpha looking for a wife and someone to have his little wolves." she interrupts the younger angrily dumping the facts on the table.  

"And?" the answer is simple and mocking, increasing the tension in the room. The blue eyes fill with more anger.  

"You don't really know the werewolves, the alphas...they are...you are more than that. More than a trophy to exhibit, than a... breeding slut." the words coming out of her mouth surprises them both, vulgar language compared to her exquisite vocabulary.  

"What if marriage and children is something I want? At least Lucien would treat me well, not even hide me." Y/N teases and shrugs, even though she is completely disgusted inside at the idea of that man touching her in this way, besides, she really doesn't know much about werewolves and the classes of the species "And maybe I would be loved."  

In less than a second she finds herself practically lying on the armchair with the woman's body on top of hers, kneeling on the floor not caring about the expensive dress, faces inches apart, warm breath against lips and their eyes meet once again, there is fragility in both, many buried feelings suddenly showing. One hand of Larissa's holds the smaller wrist to the top of the armchair, above head, and the other lands below thigh, lifting the leg for the younger to wrap around her waist, so she does instinctively. 

"I can give you all of this, right now if you want me to." the older whispers without leaving her eyes, for the first time since they met she showed some vulnerability and to their surprise tears emerged, falling down her face faster than it came "Y/N, I can and want to give you all of this, whatever you wish."  

"Then why?" she is confused and shocked, for the past few months the thing she wished most is that someday hopefully her feelings would be reciprocated, receiving only coldness and indifference, accepting the crumbs of the deal they had, it was enough until no more, "Larissa, you despised me for months, as if I was nothing, invisible, even professionally, doubting my abilities just for being a normie. You made me feel...worthless, unworthy of love."  

"And I'm miserable for doing that to you, it was never my intention, but when I realized I was already putting up barriers and more barriers to keep you away, yet I couldn't. My romantic past is terrible, I've been hurt a lot by people whom I gave myself to and trusted blindly. For a blind person, as I was, pushing you away and hurting you seemed better than letting myself be hurt once again. I know, that's no excuse for all the shit I put you through. But I was broken emotionally when I met you, so that's why..." the principal stops talking when she feels Y/N's free hand gently wipe away her tears, thumb resting on the now flushed cheeks "I'm not trying to justify it, but I really was afraid to let you in, then when you were gone I realized that being afraid of losing you is bigger, also hurts more. That night I cried hiding in the office after you slept and uselessly tried to convince myself that it was the best thing for both of us, even if it was burning me up inside. And now that I saw that disgusting man touching you hurt like hell, I realized that I can't stand the idea of someone else being in your life like that."  

"I..." 

"Please forgive me, you were never worthless, I never despised you, never thought you were any of that, fuck, I don't even care that you are normie and I hired you precisely because you are fucking bright, a great teacher and role model for our students. I just can't say I'm sorry for being an asshole and for all the cruel words I've said, if you want I'll wash my mouth out with soap. Y/N, listen very attentively to my words now." Larissa leaves the wrist and long fingers run across the girl's face, admiring every detail, feeling her chest heavy as she remembers that damn night when she was a complete idiot, hurt her in so many ways and made her cry, when she thought lost her forever "You are worthy of all the love in the world, all the happiness, all the affection and you deserve only good things, I made a lot of mistakes, I was the worst person. But..." she sighs and tries to wipe the new wave of tears, anxiety taking over mind and heart "Can you give me a chance? To reward you and show you how much I appreciate you, if you want the world I'll try to give you just to show how deeply I love you."  

"You what?" both are shocked at the sudden declaration.  

"I..." red painted lips quiver and her eyes become clearer, like crystal water, Y/N sees the pure truth about her feelings behind them "I love you." she finally says, word for word, loud and clear.  

"I love you too." the younger whispers, those words meaning more than that, it's forgiveness. They draw closer and slowly bring their lips together.   

It's gentle and soft, as if this is the first time and they are discovering each other, very different from the real first time their lips touched months before, which led them to start everything. Neither can believe that this is really happening, or how amazing they feel with a simple kiss after having done so much more than that before. Lips move in sync, hearts racing and they engage in a tight hug, the blonde's arms taking the smaller body to herself, holding her lovingly by the waist and the back of neck. What makes Y/N groan in pain between the kiss, they separate momentarily only for Larissa to check if she is okay, that injury haunted her for a whole week, only reassured after threatening the doctor to tell about the health condition of her beloved. She soon discovers that the teacher is fine, as she is pulled in by Y/N to continue kissing, this time more intense, tongues meet immediately, feeling and exploring each other's mouths with affection and desire, so much desire that makes the skin burn, feverish with love. It's a kiss that is full of all the feelings hidden for months, of the pain they have gone through in different ways, but about the same thing, the desire to be together. 

"What are we now?" Y/N asks as soon as their lips part and they are looking at each other again, this time instead of tears there are genuine and almost shy smiles "And what are we doing?"  

"Well, I was planning to take you on a date and propose formally..."  

 "Really, Weems? I thought your silly hand was driving us to another thing..." she points to the long fingers under the coat, between the fabric of her tank top and the waistband of the pants.  

"I'm sorry." she is about to take the hand away from there, but is stopped and feels the soft lips against hers again in a quick kiss.  

"It's okay..." the buttons are slowly unbuttoned, the tank top showing and when Larissa moves closer to kiss her the fabric is accidentally pulled, exposing even more breasts along with the lace bra that almost drove the principal crazy earlier.  

"If I didn't know you I'd say it was all planned." the two laugh and the taller one nods in denial, then pulls on the coat wrapping herself in it, bodies pretty much attached inside "Please, never let Lucien come near you like that again. Just seeing him touching and looking at you like that made me boil inside, I wanted to kill him."  

"He wouldn't have come close if I already belonged to someone."  

"Fair enough. And that brings us to the previous question, are we more than girlfriends?" the blonde asks a little fearfully afraid she's jumping the gun, they've been sleeping together for about six months now, but under her stupid terms, fruits of damn insecurity "Or...?"  

"We are whatever we want to be." she thinks of an objective answer, but not even she, who has always wanted this relationship, knows how to define what they have.  

"Then you will be mine, in every way. Body, soul, and mind." they intertwine fingers and Larissa has to fight back new tears when the other nods in agreement, the fear of speaking this fading, her heart speeds up even more "We have a lot to fix, I have a lot to make up for, but I want to be better for you, to be worthy to call you girlfriend and one day wife."  

"You are already worthy, you just didn't know it." Y/N whispers with emotion in voice, fighting back her own tears as she faces the woman she loves in the same state, their heads touch and both close eyes just enjoying the moment, feeling the calm after the storm "It's okay now."  

"It's okay now." she agrees opening a smile and they gap a little, staring at each other "Damn, I can't believe I finally had the courage to say I love you." 

"Neither do I, it's like you're a different Larissa, a better Rissa, who talks, gives affection, knows how to express yourself." the younger's hands run down the principal's neck and rest on the soft face, caressing cheek, then the temple, eyebrows, nose, chin and finally the fleshy lips that quiver at the gentle touch "And love me."  

Their lips come together again in a delicate and emotional kiss, still a new feeling to be able to touch and be like this after all they have been through. What they are doing is no longer relieving stress or satisfy horniness trying to control all the built up sexual tension, there are no sloppy kisses, rushed hands, cold touches and even less the usual neglect. It's exactly the opposite of that, affection is conveyed with every touch and the kisses seem simply addictive, like they could live this moment forever and if at some point they parted it would fade away, just like their dreams before.  

"I knew I couldn't kiss you this way before or I would fall to my knees in love..." Larissa murmurs between the kiss and points to how she stands in front of the armchair, on knees between her legs, hands holding her "And I was right."  

"You're such an idiot, Rissa." they smile and the blonde pulls her around the waist, rubbing hips against Y/N's intimacy, both moan at the friction "My Rissa..."  

"Only yours. And you only mine."  

"I have never been so happy to break rules in my life."  

"And I thank you for it."  

They feel deep happiness and peace, nothing matters around, Parents' Weekend, not even the rowdy students, this is their moment. As soon as their lips touch again calmness hangs over heads, there is no more fear, pain or anything like that, just the feeling of being realized and complete after letting love speak louder.  

"I love you, Y/N..." 

taglist: @opheliauniverse @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @scarr0713 @missdowling @dvrkhcld @heidss @loudchaoscoffee @xvyzxx @quailbagutte @renravens @thoroughly--confused @winterfireblond @milciak @messynessi @gela123 @ctrlamira @milffilm @taurus-baby-34  

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#larissa weems x reader #imagine #female reader #larissa weems #gwendoline christie #angst 'cause you ladies seem to love it

[sut4tcliff]

Snapshots of Domesticity

Grelle Sutcliff x gn reader!

As a celebration for getting past @transfemswagbracket 's 1st round, I decided fuck it why not get this Grelle x reader fic out of my brain

Slight content warning for reaper backstory stuff. It's only slightly discussed but still some tw for mentions of suicide. But it's fluffy overall!

It wasn’t always easy dating a grim reaper, but you had grown accustomed to it, in a way.

It didn’t stop you from worrying as you stared out the window at the rain that pelted the London streets. It was pitch black out and the harsh wind made the rain almost pour sideways. Yet, in a perfectly-timed flash of lighting (to this day you didn’t know how the very world around her complimented her flair for the dramatic) your lover stood in the doorway.

“I’m guessing you got caught in the rain,” you commented, quickly getting up to remove her long crimson jacket, now sopping wet.

“What led you to that astute observation?” Grelle responded sardonically, exhaustion seeping into her voice as she sat down at the kitchen table.

“Hard day?” you asked, your voice soft. You handed her a towel to wring the rain out of her fiery red hair.

“What else is new? They always work us to the bone, rain or shine. You have no idea, darling. I mean, I’m happy you have no idea how this feels, but still…” she sighed.

You scooted a chair so that you could sit next to her, her still-damp head falling to rest on your shoulder. Of course you didn’t know how she felt in her eternal punishment. You often mentally cursed the wretched system that punishes those who were already suffering. Those who are now reapers only wanted a reprieve from the weight of this world. In return, a far heavier burden is placed on their backs. A punishment for feeling pain. There are few things in this world that seemed more cruel.

“Come here, sweet girl…” you say, your arms open wide.

Grelle immediately wraps her arms around you, finding solace in pressing her face into the crook of your neck, even though it makes her glasses press uncomfortably against the bridge of her nose. She takes comfort in how your hands card through her long red hair. After everything that she has been through, after everything she has done, you still hold her in your arms like it is where she belongs most in this world. And sometimes she thinks it is.

Grelle often finds herself thinking about what she has done, where she has been in her life and her afterlife. And all of it feels worth it when she gets to come home to you. She often cannot believe that she has somewhere she calls home after everything. Someone who she falls asleep with every night and wakes up next to every morning. Someone who helps her put on her makeup in the morning when she doesn’t have the energy to do so herself (even if you tend to smudge her lipstick one way or another).

You were one of the first people to tell her that you thought she was beautiful. You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The sky is blue, the sun rises in the East, Grelle is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. Your words of kindness to her rest on the line between fact and poetry. And it is more than she could ever ask for.

But in this moment, you rest in your shared kitchen, in your shared home. You wait for her to remove her head from the crook of your neck, but you know she will not let go of you as you walk into your shared room. She would never give up the kindness of your touch, a kindness she is still so unused to. With her in your arms, it feels more like a dance than a walk, with the way you sway from side to side and the way her arms encircle you.

“Darling, you should change before we sleep. You don’t want to sleep in your wet clothes,” you say.

“But I don’t want to let go either. I want to stay in your lovely embrace!” She protests with her usual dramatic flair.

But eventually she relents. Re-entering your room in her long, flowing white nightgown. Typical for the current fashion.

And with that she returned to her sanctuary nestled against you. With her head buried in the crook of your neck and your legs tangled together. Her glasses sat atop your book on the nightstand, a snapshot of domesticity that still made your heart feel tender. And the girl in your arms smelled like home, like roses and iron and the coffee she so often drank. You could only watch with love as her eyelids fluttered closed over her chartreuse eyes

“I love you, darling.” she murmured, already half-asleep.

“I love you too, Grelle.” You responded with ease, the same way you’ve said over and over again.

You blew out your bedside candle and pulled her closer, listening as her breathing evened out. You closed your eyes and drifted into sleep, knowing that you would wake up to your favorite sight in the world.

#i was so desperate to see SOMEONE be nice and sweet and caring towards her. but no one in kuro would so its MY TURN #grelle sutcliff #kuroshitsuji grell #kuroshitsuji #grell sutcliff x reader #grelle sutcliff x reader #grell sutcliff #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji x you

[sejanusbaby]

Being in a Relationship with Eddie Munson…

A/N: I literally manifested Eddie into Stranger Things. You don’t understand. He is actually dream boyfriend for me. I’ve never become so attached to a fictional character like this. I might make an NSFW version of this, or just turn this into a fic instead.

Warnings: Like, one curse word. Reader is female and uses she/her pronouns. Reader is also a bit of a “girly girl,” if you will. It’s also implied that the reader is shorter than Eddie. This might as well be a fic, but here we are.

I did not proof read this and sort of threw it together last minute, so I have everyone likes it. Let me know if I should turn this into a series instead! Also, send me any of your Stranger Things requests please!

Contains possible spoilers for Stranger Things, season four!

You had just transferred schools when you moved to Hawkins. Much against what you wanted, your parents had convinced themselves that the small town was the best place to be.

You wouldn’t have minded it, really. However, they chose to move right before your senior year began. This caused a ton of unwanted stress, on your part. You were forced to make new friends, in a new environment.

Your first day couldn’t go that bad, right? You stuck to your usual routine, styling your hair to perfection, wearing your pink lipstick and glittery eyeshadow. You had already set out your outfit for the day too. A light pink, long sleeved blouse with some ruffles on the sleeves. Your nicest blue jeans, with a pink belt, and some white flats.

Sure, you weren’t trying to impress anybody, but it wouldn’t hurt to make a good first impression. Right?

The assistant at the front desk was kind enough to give you your schedule for the semester. The school wasn’t too big, but still intimidating, nonetheless. She could probably tell by the look on your face.

Behind you, in one of the chairs, a boy, not much older than you, sat slouched over. He was tapping his foot, drumming his fingers on his knee. He had long, curly brown hair, tattoos scattered on different parts of his body, and wore a shirt with “The Hellfire Club” across it.

He must have felt you staring at him, because his finger drumming ceased, and he glanced up at you. His eyes were a warm, but dark brown. He smiled at you, causing your cheeks to flush, and you turned back to face the assistant at the desk.

“Okay,” the woman started to say. “Here’s a list of different clubs and extra curricular activities you might be interested in. Also, don’t forget the deadline coming up to pay for your cap and gown for graduation.”

You nodded, eager to figure out where your classes would be. As you took the paper from her, she glanced right behind you to the boy you had just noticed. “If I let you go now, do you think you could stay out of trouble for the rest of the day, Mr. Munson?” She inquired.

The boy stood up instantly, nodding his head, smiling. “Of course, Mrs. Nelson. I swear.” He said. The lady, Mrs. Nelson, rolled her eyes.

“The other condition is that you assist Ms. Y/L/N today, with helping her find her classes, and giving her a tour of the high school.” She stated, taking a seat in her chair.

“Yes, that’s no problem at all.” He said, still wearing a wide smile on his face. He rushed by you, opening up the door to the office, and gestured for you to go before him. “My lady, after you.” You smiled shyly. He was cute, for sure. Not someone you thought to be your type, though. Plus, you hadn’t even met anyone else yet. I’m sure there were plenty of other people in Hawkins that could be a match for you.

Eddie, on the other hand, felt his heart racing for some reason. You were so cute, the way your hair framed your face, the pink lipstick perfectly applied to your pretty lips, and the way you smiled. He needed to calm down, though. He didn’t even know you. He, quite literally, just met you.

“So, I didn’t quite catch your first name, hun.” He looked over to you. You blushed again, your eyes meeting his, only for you to break contact with them almost immediately. “It’s Y/N.” You said. “What’s yours?”

“It’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.” He shot a toothy grin at you. “So, where are you from, Y/N? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I used to live in New York, but my parents wanted somewhere more quiet to live, so here I am.” You explained to him. He listened, not interrupting at all.

“So, let’s see what we have here.” He said, snatching the schedule from your hands. “Hey, your first class is with Ms. O’Donnel. I have her first period too. Maybe we can talk more about you over a boring English lesson. What do you say, New York?” He teased you with the nickname. You smiled, starting to feel comfortable in his presence. “Totally.”

—

“Mr. Munson, are you and Ms. Y/L/N going to join us today?” The teacher asked, clearly annoyed with the whispering and giggling coming from you and Eddie.

“I’m sorry, Ms. O’Donnel.” Eddie cleared his throat. “I’m just helping Y/N here get comfortable with Hawkin’s High.” He nudged you with his elbow playfully, smiling at you. That damn smile, again.

—

Eddie helped you find each of your classes after that, even inviting you to sit with him and his friends at lunch.

After your first class, the day went pretty smoothly, until it was time for lunch. As you walked into the cafeteria, tray in hand, your eyes darted around to find Eddie, or at least an empty table to sit at.

Somehow, Eddie was able to spot you pretty quickly. He sauntered over to you, grasping one of your hands in his. You could feel the coolness of his rings on your own fingers. You had just met this guy. Why did it feel so natural to hold his hand? “Hey there again, New York. I saved you a seat right next to me.” You smiled as he led you to said seat.

“I’m honored to get to sit next to you, Munson.” You playfully teased. He laughed, “Hey, not many others have such privilege to be in your spot, New York.”

You noticed his friends eventually began to take there seats at the table. They were all sporting the same shirt that Eddie had been wearing. “So,” you began to say, “the Hellfire Club. What is that?”

“Have you ever heard of Dungeons and Dragons?” One of Eddie’s friends asked. He wore a baseball cap and had curls like Eddie. “I’m Dustin, by the way. Dustin Henderson.” He smiled brightly at you. You gave him a smile back. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Dustin. And yes, I know of D&D. I’ve never played though.” It was true. You had a younger brother who was into the game, though you never agreed to play with him and his friends.

Dustin was about to speak, when suddenly Eddie began speaking in a very deep voice, a magazine held up close to his face. “The Devil has come to America. Dungeons and Dragons, at first regarded as a harmless game of make-believe, now has both parents and psychologists concerned. Studies have linked violent behavior to the game, saying it promotes satanic worship, ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even…” he trailed off, only to slam the magazine onto the table in front of him, “murder!”

You giggled at his impression, along with the others. “We’re freaks because we like to play a fantasy game.” He stood up on the table now. “But as long s you’re into band or science or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets…”

Across the room, one of the basketball players stood up, looking at Eddie with a face of disgust. “You want something, freak?” He yelled. Eddie just stuck his tongue out at the guy, laughing while doing so.

“It’s forced conforming.” Eddie spoke. “That’s what’s killing the kids! That’s the real monster.” His friends laughed once again. Finally, he took his seat next to you again. “So, guys, this is Y/N.” He introduced you. His friends made brief introductions to you.

“So, uh, speaking of monsters, uh, Lucas has to do his, uh, balls-in-laundry-baskets game.” Dustin spoke, nervously. Eddie just glanced over at him. “So…” He trailed off, laughing, probably due to anxiety. “He’s not gonna be able to make it to Hellfire tonight.” He continued on, “And I know there’s no way we can beat your sadistic campaign without him. So, me and Mike were talking, shooting the shit, and we were thinking that maybe we might…” He paused.

“Postpone!” Mike finally spoke up, finishing off Dustin’s thought for him. Almost instantly, the majority of the group protested. After a heated discussion, Eddie came up with a solution for the two boys. Find a sub for this Lucas guy.

Dustin gestured to you. “What about your new girlfriend here, Eddie. She said she knows enough about the game. Have her sub for Lucas. Plus, you’ll get to spend more time with her that way.” The boy teased, chasing your cheeks to turn bright red. Eddie chuckled, looking to you.

“What do you say, New York? Just one time?” He asked, reached over and giving your hand a squeeze. “For me?” He put on a fake pouty face and batter his eyes at you. “Sure.” You agreed.

—

That was the beginning of you and Eddie’s relationship. You two became pretty much inseparable. Two best friends. You trusted him enough to try weed for the first time. Since then, you two met up at his trailer almost every day to smoke and hang out.

Your parents weren’t huge fans of him, as polite as he was when he came over to hang out with you. But they managed to tolerate your friendship with him.

One particular night, Eddie invited you over after school, and suggested a sleep over. “We can go pick up any movies you want to watch. We can even get pizza and smoke and have a good time.” He proposed to you, leaning against the lockers next to yours.

“I don’t know, Eddie. My parents would never let that happen. And I have that huge test on Monday to study for.” You rambled on. You were so cute, Eddie thought to himself.

“C’mon, sweetheart. It’s one night. Just tell your parents that you’ll be at Nancy’s. Plus, you have the rest of the weekend to study. I’ve barely gotten to see you this week.” He pleaded with you, holding his hand over his heart dramatically. You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Just pick me up from my place at 5 o’clock. Just so I can get some stuff together.” He smiled, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles.

“Of course, my lady. Your chariot will arrive at 5 o’clock sharp.” He said, smiling down at you. He was so pretty, you thought to yourself. “I’ll see you later, New York.” He called out, heading to his next class. You shook your head and laughed at him.

—

After picking you up, the movies up, and the pizza, you found yourself at Eddie’s trailer again. His uncle worked nights, so you knew you guys would have a smooth, undisturbed evening.

Eddie passed the blunt over to you, and began to set up the movie on the small TV that sat in the living room. You took a couple of hits from the blunt, and once your felt comfortably high, you passed the rest of it back to Eddie. You knew he’d finish it off, anyway. He always did. He knew you hated the burn.

The movie started, and you and Eddie began to eat your dinner together. He would make fun of the actors or characters most of the time. “Come on, Y/N. It’s so cheesy.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Someone’s got an attitude tonight.” He remarked, poking at you for fun.

“Eddie, I swear to God, if you touch me again, I will personally have to lay you out.” You laughed, threatening him playfully. He chuckled. “I would love to see you try, sweetheart.”

Without warning, you reached your hands over to Eddie, and began to attack his most ticklish spots. His ribs. “Not fair!” He protested, only to be cut off by more of his own laughter as you kept going.

At some point during all of this, you ended up on top of him, holding him down during your brutal attack to his sides. Eddie was able to get one of his free hands and start his own attack on you. “Hey!” You exclaimed, laughing uncontrollably now. You were both flipped now, Eddie pinning you down this time. He smiled down at you, and his hands ceased their attack on you. Once your caught your breathe, you noticed Eddie smiling down at you, his brown eyes locking into yours.

“Eddie—” you started to say. “You know, you’re so pretty, New York.” He said quietly. Without hesitation, you reached up to grab his face, and kissed him. He returned the kiss, his own hands finding their place on top of yours. He pulled away suddenly. “I’m sorry— I don’t know what I was thinking—” Eddie cut you off with another kiss. “Why are you apologizing. Don’t you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” He said quietly against your lips.

From that point on, you two were the knew “it” couple. Not for the same reasons that Steve and Nancy were. But because nobody understood why a girl like you was with a guy like Eddie.

Hell, even Eddie didn’t understand it. But he just knew how much he loved you and how lucky he was.

You two still continued to hang out pretty much every day. The hardest part was telling your parents about it. You told Eddie that you could tell them on your own. But he refused. “Your parents already don’t like me very much. The least I can do is be courteous and tell them I’m dating their daughter.” He had told you.

You were at every single band practice, too. And you showed up for every concert, as small as they were.

Everything was perfect. Eddie was completely in love with you.

He loves when you play with his hair, or even style it for him.

He’s just so proud of you. You’re the love of his life and he gets to call you his? It’s almost too good to be true.

Totally sneaks in through your window, now that your parents don’t let you have him over as much.

He usually takes you with him anytime he’s “doing business with someone.” This time, it happened to be Chrissy. Much to both of your surprises, but you could tell she was going through it.

It seemed like your presence with Eddie made it less intimidating for her, and you were glad it did. But when she asked for something stronger, and you and Eddie took her back to his trailer, everything went from totally perfect to a complete disaster.

#eddie munson #x reader #smut #imagine #fluff #headcanon #stranger things #joseph quinn #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader

[survivalist-anon]

Log 14: An expensive and deadly game

Las Vegas: 11:37 A.M

The Paris Casino: The Security Suite

Sleen was briefing Selene on the day's schedule as always. Closer to repeating the same schedule as a form of control rather than for occupational instruction.

"-when Tulio ropes you back up, you'll land on this platform right here and the lights go off, also, Kathy quit this morning, so you'll have to step in as Artemis this show as well. Can't for the life of me figure out who's going to be Orion now 'cus my nosey brother juuuuuust wanted to ruin my show again.", pouring himself a sizable serving of gin and tonic.

A frustrated huff from Selene was all it took, she had cursed under her breath in Comorian, than slowly to French, "tu m'esclaves comme si je n'avais pas d'âme, gros cochon fumé".

Sleen shuffled his shoulders in depraved glee, "oooooh I just loooove it when you talk all Frenchie like....makes you sound attractive too. Hehe", Sleen obviously couldn't speak the language of course, it was the only way Selene could ever be truly free from his influence.

Her sharp, glare, brightened by her piercing ice blue eyes, a rare trait in for home country. Stabbing Sleen with her gaze, "if you like it so much, why not hoard the prostitutes that are walking the streets....Au lieu de moi...", her time with Sleen was closer to imprisonment than anything. She has been lucky that Sleen enjoys the idea of tormenting her with sex.

She had been fixing her hair, braided into tight cornrows for the character. Since she had begun, she has been dying her hair a stark white with small strands of blue and silver. Unfortunately for her, she had to always be in character.... especially for Sleen.

"Oh come on sweetheart, why would I want to two bit, dime a dozen whore when I can have the goddess of the moon, the fairy of the dawn...and now.... the huntress of the night, besides you have something Kathy doesn't, a pretty face and a fine 'derriere'...", taking a long drag of his cigar, he looks at Selene like he was looking at a pork cutlet.

From the vanity mirror, she could see him starring at her, "You know. Sleen....I'm still off limits.....you wouldn't want my..... sponsor.... finding his best purchase soiled .... wouldn't you?", considering Selene's origins, her sponsor was an anonymous off shore individual. Paying Sleen to keep her in Las Vegas in the meantime, before being shipped back to some other country for her to pay her services.

However, like Sleen's appetite for third servings at the buffet and money, he's been taking an extra portion for himself. At least in regards to poor Selene, his plan is to purchase her from her sponsor, so he can have her no strings attached.

Sleen's more upbeat mood had soured to frustration. "Mmm...yes....good old Mr.Fe...what a stupid nickname....anyway....you should be greatful, my little bird of paradise. I know you have to go out for some shopping right? I'll have Hans escort you....", he leans close to her face, laying his chubby hand on her arm, "so no funny business...you got it? 'Mo ne mi'?". He slowly walks to his bodyguard, "lose her again....I'll make you lose your balls.". He leaves the bulky man and Selene alone.

She had no expression on her face she couldn't have. She felt like mawling everything in sight like a revengeful caged, lioness. But one thing that had kept her from expressing her fury.

A little sign of hope. A note

'Meet me in Rome. Where the circus is internal. For us to meet in darkness.'

~Mr.Crow.

Just the lingering vision of seeing the tiny, handwritten note had nearly given away her thoughts.

"Let's go Hans...I just need to stop at the dressing room."

As the two go down to the employee theater entrance, the game begins.

Selene walks to her usual spot, the twins where there ready for her signal. "Bonjour.", she picks up a signal lipstick.

The twins head straight to Hans.

"Hey big boy, whatcha doing tonight?", Magan cooed.

"hmmm your so big and strong, do you work out", Angelina began to hang her arms around Han's neck, ready to nuzzle him.

"Ladies, I'm working right now.", he probably knew what their angle was. Suddenly, one of the stage hands comes up to him.

"Hey you big lug! Whatcha doing with my girl?", Magan's official boyfriend had come from the gym early.

"Quincy! I was just haven a conversation.", she now had to act fast.

"I don't have time for this bullsh-", it was then he realized that Selene had disappeared. "Fuck the boss is going to kill me for this. Alright you assholes, wheres the girl?!", he demanded.

Magan, Angelina, and several other staff members were silent. One of the members of the back stage staff, had rope.

"Hope you like BDMS big guy....", a stage hand jokingly said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caesars Palace 12:05 p.m

As I stand quietly within the currently unopened teacher for one of the performances at Caesars Palace, I ponder what to say to Selene. To express that there was no time to waste....and that we must disappear this week.

The longer it takes, the more difficult it will be.

"I'm telling you homes, Hans is not going to be that stupid to fall for the same trick again.", Tulio sat watching on guard with me. A true companion in crime.

"I had the rest of the cast in on it.", I responded.

I swear he almost had a heart attack.

"What?! You crazy! Sleen is gonna get people fired for that!", he had a point.

I couldn't help but conduct my own brand of chaos, I've already invested William Sleen from his background history down to his most recent purchases.....one thing is for certain....he can not afford to attract the attention of law enforcement... he already has enough on his plate given his criminal record. "As per union law, he can't just fire the whole cast....he knows he can't.". I could see Tulio had now begun to understand my gambit.

"Ah yes, hehe, fire the whole cast, the casino loses money ....good thinking Wick. Say, are seriously still interested in beating that Mark guy? Seriously for someone in the military, he's got some chip on his shoulder.", Tulio's warning was not to be taken lightly.

Airman Mark is...a careless maverick....to say the least. It is not an uncommon trait amongst those to take to the skies. I myself have been criticized for the very same reason.

"Yes. I refuse to let some low ranking pilot gain the upper hand against an experienced flier like myself.", over the years my arrogance has become more unbecoming. Yet it is a shame I must bare for the sake of my own sanity.

*click clack, click clack*

There she was, my night sky, my moonlight. "Tulio, she's here, make sure that the coast is clear and that our inside man is ready.", to Tulio, Selene was no where to be seen. I personally could hear her entering the casino hall from yards away amongst the other gamblers and patrons.

Looking around, he decides to trust my instincts. "You got it Wick.", he leaves to one of the hidden employee doors.

I await for Selene. I could see her, smell her sweet aroma, feel her presence. As hidden as one can be, my eyes laid upon a woman with a dark hooded jacket, moderate heels, and eyes of starlight. Her smile, petit yet so bright.

"Selene.", all I could breathe was her name.

"Mon corbeau.", her touch upon my arm sent every follicle of hair on end in anxious passion. Her lips upon my cheek, my upon hers. "We must go.", her whispers were like a shot of adrenaline to me.

We take flight to the dressing room theater, hiding ourselves in the comforting darkness of the backstage of the Colosseum theater.

If we could not make love in our false Paris, than we shall make love in darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Downtown Vegas, within the bowles of the Trump Towers.

A meeting commences between another party within the dark underbelly of the city's crime syndicate.

Tapping his foot furiously, Sleen waits for his connection, "c'mon c'mon c'mon, where is that giant freak?! He better be here with my money.", the sudden scrabbling of claws, gnashing teeth echo and footsteps heavy enough to crack the pavement bombard through the empty halls of the basement level parking lot. "G'Ah! Who's there!? I'm armed!".

The low, grumbling laughter, "Arm'd? Yus call dat be'in Arm'd?! HA!", a large, tall, very smartly dress "man", surrounded by his own wall of guards, with two women oh so gently wrapped around his arms, steps forward just enough to obscure his face. "Dat ain't evens nuff to even scare Scruffy.", referring to his oddly shaped and gnashing "dog". Who's only desire is to take a bite out of Sleen.

"Oh! N-nice d-oggie-seriously what the actual fuck is that thing?", his momentary fear dampened by the logical side of his perspective.

"SHAHT IT, you 'ave it?", the voice boomed.

Sleen shakingly handed one of the guards the finest, smuggled tobacco one could get. "ok here you go Mr.Green. hehehe. Now where is it?", although a coward, the one thing to stoke his courage was money.

"hmmf, 'ere, just make sure you spen it soon. It ain't cheap yus knows.", a large heavy bag is handed to Sleen.

"ok .....but how am I supposed to use it if I ain't even allowed to open it??", Sleen had never once questioned his connection. All he knew when was to bring these teeth to Mr.Fe's man in San Diego California, then money would be granted in equivalent to its value. He knew what Mr.Green understood about the bag's contents is that it CAN be used a currency.

Mr.Green gave a horrible, yet cheerful grin. "Ha! Yur problem! Not mine, just make sure da scrap at South Point gets fix'd. I ain't losin to no "El Nino", sounds like a CHUMP." he snapped his fingers, him, the wall of guards and his lady friends left Sleen, by himself in a dark, dank basement area.

"....sheesh...what an asshole.", he quickly leaves the basement area and into the nearest elevator. As it goes up, a class from his phone blares through the music. "Yeah? What is it?.......WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE QUIT?!? He can't quit on me how's am I supposed to be running around without a meat shield like Hans?!?! Who's going to be my thug now?!", it was one of the stage hands back at the Paris Casino.

"Look, boss, ain't his mom and I sure as hell ain't his damn babysitter either. He just left and quit.", Angelina was currently sitting on the trunk of one of the staff's car, ready to drop Hans off at the nearest strip club. The banging on the top of the trunk nearly makes her lose her balance and popping her chewing gum. "Wooh!".

Sleen, heard something in the background, "what was that?", he interrogated her through the phone.

"Just a rat passing by, really did spook me.", she looked to her fellow staff members, all giggling at the illegal mischief they have committed.

Sleen....knew something was going on. "....is....Wick there?....and WHERE IS SELENE?.", his patience has run thin by this point.

"I don't know boss, she's with some of the girls at the mall or something, I don't have the budget to be spending on what they can afford.", blowing another bubble.

The cogs in his head had turned a little, "I'll pay you triple in what I'm paying you now...to tell me what the hell is going on.".

This was anticipated even by Wick. "Oh...hmm...me AND Magan get triple.....", covering the mic part of the phone, giggling with her sister. "....and...I'll tell where Wick is."

His grin widened into a grimace..."good....now...spill it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caesar's Palace: 15:25 p.m

We had just finished another beautiful performance between the two of us. Laid upon my bare chest, and I on the chaise couch.... admittingly a size too small for my given size.

A satisfied sigh from her was evidence of my love for her, but I must tell her before we may not have another chance before Sleen finds out. "Selene, we must leave the city. You must escape."

She gasped, "Wick, is it not too soon? Sleen will hunt us down for certain. I fear what he is going to do with you.", she laid her head on left heart, hearing my hearts beat.

"I know mon épervier. Please trust me in my urgency. Even if my plan does not fully work....I can make sure it will....the great goal is that you can escape unharmed.", I speckle a few kisses on her head. "I would die to make sure your story is told, to make sure you're back home with your family. Safe and sound.".

Her eyes lit up brighter than I've seen. "Mon corbeau. You have been brushing up on your French.", she guilded me with lips under my jaw.

"Tout pour toi mon amour", our lips embraced each other. "All for you.".

We check the time, we both had to leave back to the Paris Casino for the show. "Oh dear, two hours before 'showtime'."

It was a struggle to consider the performance a show by this rate. "Let us leave in separate times. You need to meet with the girls at the shopping center here in the casino. I'll meet with you later.", we parted with another embrace.

End of log 14

@kit-williams @barn-anon @egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @walking-natural-disaster @starfrost740 @squishyowl @sleepyfan-blog @lawnchair86

#space marine husbandry #warhammer 40k #space marine #survival log #space marines #space marine husbandry sentience #raven guard #sketchy shit happening at trump towers guys press L on the chat

[romanarose]

Leather and Lace Universe: Halloween Special.

TF boys and their respective partners.

Summary: After the events of Will's story and before Benny's story starts, the group gets together for Halloween.

Warnings: a lil drinking, mentions of traumatic pregnancy and birth, brief mention of death by several different means in reference to how kurt cobain, selena, james dean etc died.

AN: currently, I am writing Will's story, For The Longest Time, and have written Take Your Time (frankie's story), after Leather and Lace ended. you can read this without having read TYT or FTLT, just know frankie and jana are back together, Lorelei is Will's girlfriend and the mother of his child and Santi and Laci had a baby. Right now in the time line, it's early summer, so this is a flash forward, and I'll pick back up in the summer during FTLT. I tried to keep things as vague as possible esp in regards to what gender Laci and Lorelei are having, and what exactly is going on with Ben and why Alice is suddenly not invited... but it will be clear as Will's story progresses.

*********************

They all needed this. 

The fall had been hard so far with everything going on with Ben, and the group needed a night away. Without Alice.

Everyone got a babysitter to be able to spend time together and focus on each other for a night. 

Jana’s brother, Jacob, had Rosie, and a very pregnant Jana and very sober Frankie were driving Benny, Lorelei, and Will. Alice was not invited. Santi had originally refused to go all in for a costume, so after seeing the Barbie movie in the summer, Laci and Benny had planned on being Barbie and Ken together. When Benny’s girlfriend vito’d the idea, wanting to be Barbie, Santi had caved and let Laci dress him up. Benny’s disappearance was hurting Laci terribly, and Santi was trying his best to fill in the gaps. Benny spent Halloween weekend with Alice dressed as cowboy barbie and Ken, but had allotted Halloween day for his friends. This was a positive step forward since the more the year went on, the more Ben withdrew. The group of friends valued the time they could get with him.

Will’s mom came to their house to watch their baby, and had offered to watch Santi and Laci’s newborn. They were very hesitant, considering how young the baby was and the circumstances of the birth, but they wanted to see Ben. He’d only been over to see the baby a handful of times.

Santi and Laci were the last to arrive, Laci hanging on Santiago who had an arm around her for support.

“You made it!” Benny shouts, enthusiastic and also drunk, raising his hands as he cheers. He pats Santi’s back, but just smiles at Laci.

Santiago apologized, stating it was hard to say goodbye to their child, even if only for a few hours, then asked everyone to introduce their costumes.

Lorelei was dressed in a 1950’s style dress, hair done up in curls and her signature red lipstick. Will had on a white shirt and red jacket, his hair slicked back. “We’re Judy and Jim from Rebel Without a Cause.”

“Who the hell is that?” Santi asked.

Will butted in. “I’m James Dean, that’s all you need to know.”

Lorelei would not be had. “Who the hell are you?”

Santi wore a suit, his hair also slicked back with way too much hair gel and Laci had drawn on a thin mustache. Laci, for her part, had her straight blonde hair in pig tails and a shimmery two piece club outfit that looked fit for a 60's club dancer. 

“We’re Blue Jones and Baby Doll from Sucker Punch!” Laci announced proudly, Santi helping her do a little spin. She was still recovering from her emergency C-section and needed to take it easy tonight. 

“You know Blue is the bad guy in that movie, right?” Ben asks from the table. “He tries to r-”

Santi shushes him. “AHT! I tried to tell her, she wont have it. She tells me I look like him and she wanted to wear a cute outfit.”

“Even if my body hasn’t bounced back yet.”

Santi turned to Laci chastisingly. “Mi vida, you had a baby 1 month ago, your body looked exactly like it should.” She just kissed his cheek and thanked him, then turned to the others. Laci hadn’t gained much weight during the pregnancy, and in fact began losing weight before the birth.

“Okay, your guy’s turn!”

Jana did a twirl, her long curls flying and the sparkles on her outfit making her look radiant as ever- Jana had a much easier time pregnant, she was glowing. 

“I’m Selena Quintanilla.” She wore a maroon sparkly jumpsuit that flared out at the calved. The outfit had bare midriff that proudly showed Jana prominent pregnancy.

“Oh!” Laci clasped her hands together. “Are you going to do karaoke?”

Jana confirmed she would absolutely be singing Selena.

“And so will we!” Benny proudly announced, pulling Frankie in with his arm. Frankie looked less than thrilled to be doing karaoke, but right now they were just happy Ben was with them.

“And you two are?” Laci asked.

“Kurt Cobain and Chis Cornell! We’re gonna do Hunger Strike, I’ll be singing Eddie Vedder’s part.”

Laci’s jaw dropped in a slightly dejected face. “You guys did a theme without us!”

Jana looked confused. “What, singers? Only three of us are and mostly by accident.”

“No!” She pouted, not seriously sad. “All you guys are people who died young!”

The group looked back and forth at each other, so Laci clarified. “James Dean died in a crash at 24, Natalie Wood was killed by her husband, Selena was shot, and Kurt and Chris committed suicide! We’re left out!”

“Relaje, Laci” Jana pulled her in for a playful hug. “That was on accident. At least your boyfriend didn’t reject a couples costume to dress up with his boyfriend.”

“I’m not Ben’s boyfriend!” Frankie tried to protest, but Benny wasn’t helping.

“Yes, you are.”

Frankie’s smile grew. “Yeah, I kinda am. I did go to pride with you two years ago.”

That caught Lorelei’s attention, looking up from sipping her red wine. “You went to pride?”

“To make sure Ben didn’t get hate crimed or something!”

Jana smiled slyly, enjoying riling him up. “You’ve never gone to pride with me.”

Teasingly, Frankie flicked her shoulder. “Fine, you got me.” Then turned to Laci and Santi. Ben had gone quite at the mention of pride, so Frankie changed the subject. “What would you guys even be if you were famous people who died young, there can’t be that many people who-”

Lorelei had an answer. “Marlyn Monroe and Buddy Holly, next question.”

This erupted into a very adamant denial by Santiago that he would not be caught wearing glasses, Lorelei insisting he’d need them soon, the old man, and Laci and Will looking at each other and laughing.

*

Jana had indeed gone on stage, singing Si Una Vez by Selena. Jana’s spanish was not perfect, having grown up with only one spanish speaking parent, but she could get along in both Somali and Spanish.

“Wow.” Will mused, watching her. Jana was a woman of many skills, and it should not have been surprising she had a decent singing voice. “She’s not even looking at the lyrics.”

Frankie sighed, crossing his arms and huffing as he slid down his seat a bit. “Yeah, she uhhhhh, listened to this song a lot when we broke up.”

Santi patted him on the back and they watched her perform.

Laci watched her friend, and as it ended she turned to Benny. “How are you? Anything new?” She asked him, trying to strike up conversion.

He smiled at her, looking nervous. His eyes kept darting around like he was going to get caught talking to her. “I’m good. How’s the little one?”

“Great.” Laci beamed. “Perfect, actually. Worth everything we went through to bring them here… Maybe you could come by this week?”

“Yeah, I’ll see what I got going on…” Laci knew what that meant. Benny wouldn’t be over. Benny had nothing going on except blacking out drunk and Alice. 

“Okay… you’re welcome over any time, you know that.” Laci was on extended maternity leave. Working at a women’s shelter, they knew the importance of this time with a new baby and they were not in any dire need for her to return just yet. Laci, however, was getting a little stir crazy. Santi was almost always around, Will and Lorelei visited, and Jana and Frankie were over a lot as the godparents. Still, Laci missed her Benny. In the early months of coming back to the states, Benny was her godsend. He treated her like a normal person, and as much as she adored her husband, Santi’s hovering could be a lot. She wanted him with her, and she wanted him to get to know the baby.

“Frankie.” Benny nudged his friend, pointing him to where Jana stood after exciting the stage. She was talking to a very drunk man, looking thoroughly unimpressed and visibly cringing. “Someones trying to steal your girl.”

“Oh now what the hell” Frankie grumbles as he pushed Santi out of the booth. “AYE PENDEJO! SHE’S CLEARLY PREGNANT!” Jana was not the kind of girl to need rescuing, but Frankie would be damned if he left her like that.

For three hours, they all hung out, laughed, sang and drank. Santi even offered to sing karaoke with Laci since Ben had bailed on I’m Just Ken with her, but Laci was a shy singer. She needed someone to carry the show for her. Plus, she knew it would make Santi uncomfortable to be on a stage, and she wouldn’t put him through that.

At around 12, after Benny and Frankie won the couples costume of the night (proving Jana’s point), Laci’s head was resting on Santi’s shoulder.

“Hey Munequita.” Santi nudged her. “You ready to go home?”

Laci nodded sleepily. 

Everyone said their goodbyes, and Santi helped Laci down from the chair and out the door of the bar.

“Wait!” They heard Benny’s voice from the bar doorway, dashing outside without a coat.

Santi and Laci stopped, Benny running up to them but slowing down in time to be careful with Laci. Gentle, he bent down the considerable height difference between them and hugged her. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Benny.” Laci teared up, letting go of Santi to hold him fully. “I’m here for you, we both are.”

**************

@pimosworld @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @missdictatorme @milkymoon2483 @poeedameronn@itspdameronthings @miraclesabound @babymills16 @rayslittlekitten @ellenmunn @hon3yboy

#leather and lace universe #halloween special #triple frontier #benny miller #william miller #santiago garcia #francisco morales #take your time series #leather and lace series #for the longest time #romana tfverse

[obsidiancreates]

Okay so Psych Makeup Collection

Under a Read More because this got long and rambling

On one hand I think having a singular Shawn and Gus palette would be very fitting, but on the other a Gus-focused standalone palette based around his best shirts called The Lavender Gooms palette is just *chef's kiss* so we'll go with that idea. I feel like some sort of face gloss works too, like the head oil- maybe it should just be an actual lavender-scented hair oil, a little outside of the "makeup" definition but not an ungeard of inclusion (see: Glamlite having a shimmer body oil in their first Barbie collection).

I feel like some colorful eyeliners fit well with Shawn tbh, as his part of the college. We've seen him canonically wear eyeliner more than once in his edgier phase, so colorful ones feel fitting for his brighter personality when he's older while still holding onto that same essence. Psychic Green, Pineapple Yellow, Santa Barbara Skies Blue, Hair Thicker In HD Brown. No, wait, that last one should be a brow gel, maybe a mascara.

Blushes based on Jules, yes obvious, a blush palette inspired by her extremely bright early seasons shirts. But also I want something for her iconic gray pantsuits, so perhaps an Eyeshadow stick/crayon- a little more one-and-done, practical, can be easily traveled with. I think that fits. Or maybe one of those blushes that looks dark gray in the pan but turns pink when you put it on?

Struggling with Lassie a bit because my brain is screaming Eyeshadow Palette but I want everyone to have a Unique Thing in this collection and Gus already has the Eyeshadow Palette... I can't imagine what else fits for a Lassie piece though. Gus’s would be largely purples and pinks, and while Lassie would also be largely cool-toned it'd be more blues and grays inspired by not only his sweet salt-and-pepper hair and cannonball blue eyes, but the blue shirts and such he'd wear in earlier seasons and the grays of his beloved gun.

I want to give Chief Vick something too, I feel like a line of contours fits her character but that feels not quite Enough for how important she is. We don't have lipsticks yet, but I don't know if I see her for lipsticks- if anything it'd be a line of glosses themed around Jules, or maybe glosses themed around some of the various Love Interests of both Shawn and Gus through the show like Mira and Abigail and that hippie girl and so on.

Bronzers themed less around A Character, more just a reference to the Abduction/Speed Dating episodes with the fake tanning ties.

Henry doesn't get a product. ... Alright, maybe an ocean spray scented makeup remover of some kind. But that's it!

Wanna give Buzz something, because I just like him. Maybe he can have the highlighter. Call it the McNabbin' That Glow or something, because he's a little ray of sunshine and while his wit is dim his smile sure ain't.

And a makeup bag shaped like a Pineapple, of course.

OH maybe The Chief gets a brush set? But I also see that working for Lassie... I can see a Henry set to tbh but I don't like him so I want either Lassie or The Chief to have the brush set.

Oh and Buzz still gets a highlighter but there's also another highlighter just called Mary Lightly.

I wanna give Yang something, she deserves it- maybe she gets the lipstick (not gloss, those go to the Various Love Interests). Oh but also an eyeliner pencil/liquid liner duo kit with the pencil in black and liquid liner in white... oooh...

Guh I have too many ideas. I'd need to do like 10 different collections like fucking Makeup Revolution and their billion never-ending Simpson releases

#psych #psych usa #psychusa #psych 2006

[thunderstomm]

Talking About The New Scare-adise Island Dolls (Monster High G3)

Monster High G3's newest line, beach wave Scare-adise Island has just fully leaked! As always, I am just delighted to see new dolls and want to talk all about them and my opinions on each doll, and if i will be buying them once they release.

The Line Overall

Not many people know this, but I love beach lines. They're a staple of any doll line naturally, but I love to see the takes that a brand does on swim wear or summer fashion, and how they make it both fashionable and practical. And for the most part, I do think Scare-adise Island does a good job at this. Each doll, bar one, comes dressed in swimwear, and all of them come with a bag, sunglasses, a drink, and an extra accessory. There is also a playset, which comes with a lot more accessories, as well as a doll.

Clawdeen Wolf

Clawdeen's doll is quite interesting, and I don't excatly think it captures a beachy vibe. Clawdeen comes dressed in a green leopard print swimsuit, with holes in the sides. She also wears a transparent purple pair of long pants with black patterns, transparent pink shoes, and a transparent purple visor, both made of a "gummy" plastic material. She comes with a purple bag, lavender water bottle with sipping straw, green crescent moon sunglasses and a novel, titled "Howler Thriller".

This look doesn't fully read as "beach" to me- the pants, and more full heels paired with her swimsuit almost read to me as being a "dance" look. I think Clawdeen would have been improved by one thing- having shorts instead of long pants. Her accessories are cute, and I especially like the water bottle, even if it is a recycled mold from G3 Basic Clawd. I also think her shoes should have matched the visor- why are they pink?? At least the green sunglasses match both the swimsuit and earrings. Her pink lipstick is also a little weird- MH PLEASE give her a natural lip. Or even, purple! I think her side ponytail is cute, but I cannot help but think it will be poly, again.

This Clawdeen is cute overall, but she is not for me.

Frankie Stein

This Frankie doll is super cute- and looks so transgender in all of the best ways. They are dressed in a silver and white top, and black and white checked board shorts, with yellow lightning bolts streaked across them. Over top, they wear a black button-up top, with yellow lightning bolt patterns. They have long straight hair, which is black, white and blue streaked, and sport a silver bucket hat, with blue and yellow rings piercing the brim. They wear cute black heel sandals, and come with a blue bag, yellow skullette drinks cup, yellow lightning shaped shades and a green sports ball.

I personally adore this Frankie, and I think it was the best possible thing they could have designed for them. I think the color combo of the look is great, and I hope it stays the same in the animated series. One of the only complaints I can really give is the pink lips- Frankie do you only own one pot of lip gloss? This Frankie would have been so cute with a black, blue, or even yellow lip! I suppose it is an easy fix for any customizers, though.

This Frankie is so so stunning! I think they are worth a buy for any fans of Frankie and beach wear.

Draculaura

And another banger! Draculaura looks absolutely stunning in this look, sporting a pink sunhat with black bat shaped bow, pink and yellow cobweb earrings that look almost like a sun, a pink bikini with cobweb patterns and black ruffles, and a transparent cover up with cobweb patterns. Draculaura wears pink pumps, and comes with pink sunglasses recolored from her core look, sunscreen, a mocktail with little bat wings, and a black, bat shaped bag with a pink charm. She wears her hair in a low ponytail, and it is mostly black with pink streaks.

This Draculaura is pretty perfect, and I don't really have any complaints other than she could maybe use a necklace or two in her look. She is oh-so very pretty, and I love the way that they made the cobwebs of the design look like suns.

I think that this Draculaura is great, and an absolute must own for Draculaura and beach doll enthusiasts. So pretty!

Heath Burns

Making his first ever doll debut in G3, it's Heath Burns! And honestly, I like it! Heath Burns has orange skin, and orange eyes, and has plastic hair, which is made to resemble a mohawk. The hair is shaved on both sides, and he has red painted hair. Heath's face sculpt also has small pointed ears. Heath wears a blue hoodie with flame patterns, and blue board shorts with a similar flame patterns. Heath also sports a pair of slip-on sandals, which are dark blue with flame patterns. The Heath Burns doll also comes with a blue tote bag, an orange, volcano shaped drink, a bottle of sunscreen, and orange sunglasses with flames on the frames.

As somebody who loved G3 Heath with all my heart, I have to say that I just love this doll. I do wish his face sculpt better matched his show counterpart, by having bigger ears, a longer, thinner face, and a different nose shape, rather than looking similar to the other boys. I also am a fan of bald Heath, and prefer it over the mohawk. The outfit is similar to what he wears in the show, except for the shoes. I do wish that this doll had come out in another line so that it could better match the show, but now is better than never, and Heath is the last member of the "poster cast" (characters featured on promotional posters and advertisements) to get a doll. Also, I really hope he's short! I NEED him to be shorter than Abbey!

I like this doll! He's pretty good for a boy doll, and I will be getting him so he can sit next to my Abbey.

Lagoona Blue

Lagoona Blue is the playset doll for this wave! However, I won't be talking about the playset, just the doll. And this Lagoona, oh boy she is PRETTY!! Lagoona has long yellow hair, with teal and pink streaks, styled mostly out, with a small ponytail in at the right. She has gorgeous pink lips, and soft makeup. Lagoona wears a pastel tie dye bikini top, with black ruffles and straps. She sports a matching skirt with drip patterns, black pleather ruffles and plastic pink rope-esque belt-cover piece. Lagoona's shoes match, being pink, and seemingly tied up with plastic textured to look like rope.

I personally love this Lagoona doll so much, and think she is so pretty. I am almost upset that she is a playset exclusive, as that just means that she will be more expensive for me to buy. I don't have any design complaints for her, it's a pretty perfect doll!

If you like playsets, then I'd give this one a buy JUST for the exclusive doll!! Lagoona is so pretty!

What Do You Think..?

#thunderstomm #monster high #monster high g3 #doll talk #frankie stein #clawdeen wolf #draculaura #lagoona blue #heath burns #scare-adise island #swim dolls #swimsuit dolls #beach dolls #doll #dolls #monster high doll #monster high dolls #talk #reblogs okay

[duothelingo]

-- Junu ootin' stars break the mold It's a cool place and they say it gets colder You're bundled up now but wait till you get older But t he meteor men beg to differ Judging by the hole in the satellite picture The ice we skate is gettin' pretty thin The water's getting warm so you might as well swim My world's on fire How 'bout yours That's the way I like it and I'll never get bored Hey, now, you're an all-star {Shouting} Get your game on, go play Hey, now You're a rock star Get the show on, get paid And all that glitters is gold Only shootin' stars break the mold {Belches} Go! Go! {Record Scratching} Go. Go.Go. Hey, now, you're an all-star Get your game on, go play Hey, now You're a rock star Get the show on, get paid And all that glitters is gold Only shootin' stars break the mold -Think it's in there? -All right. Let's get it! -Whoa. Hold on. Do you know what that thing can do to you? -Yeah, ! I'm an orge! You know. "Grab your torch and pitchforks." Doesn't that bother you? -Nope. -Really? -Really, really. -Oh. -Man, I like you. What's you name? -Uh, Shrek. -Shrek? Well, you know what I like about you, Shrek? You got that kind of I-uttons. -All right then. Who's hiding them? -Okay, I'll tell you. Do you know the muffin man? -The muffin man? -The muffin man. -Yes, I know the muffin man, who lives on Drury Lane? -Well, she's married to the muffin man. -The muffin man? -The muffin man! -She's married to the muffin man. {Door opens} -My lord! We found it. -Then what are you waiting for? Bring it in. {Man grunting} {Gasping} -Oh! -Magic mirror - - -Don't tell him a \ adas And getting caught in the rain -Princess Fiona. If you're not into yoga -She's perfect. All I have to do is just find someone who can go - - -But I probably should mention the little thing that happens at night. -I'll do it. -Yes, but after sunset - - -Silence! I will make this Princess Fiona my queen, and DuLoc will finally have the perfect king! Captain, assemble your finest men. We're going to have a tournament. -But that's it. That's it right there. That's DuLoc. I told ya I'd find it. -So, that must be Lord Farquaad's castle. -Uh-huh. \

Hi my name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that's how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don't know who she is get da hell out of here!). I'm not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he's a major fucking hottie. I'm a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I'm also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I'm in the seventh year (I'm seventeen). I'm a goth (in case you couldn't tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

"Hey Ebony!" shouted a voice. I looked up. It was... Draco Malfoy!

"What's up Draco?" I asked.

"Nothing." he said shyly.

But then, I heard my friends call me and I had to go away.

次の日、私は寝室で目覚めました。雪が降ってまた雨が降ってきました。私は棺の扉を開け、持っていた瓶から血を飲みました。私の棺は黒い黒檀で、中には端に黒いレースが付いたホットピンクのベルベットがありました。私は棺から出て、パジャマとして使っていた巨大なMCR Tシャツを脱ぎました。代わりに、私は黒い革のドレスを着て、五芒星のネックレス、コンバットブーツ、そして黒い網タイツを着ました。ピアスを4つつけ、髪をボサボサお団子のような形にまとめました。

私の友人のウィロー (AN: レイヴンはあなたです!) が目を覚まし、私に笑いました。彼女は腰まで届く長い漆黒の黒髪をピンクの縞模様で翻し、森のような緑色の目を開いた。彼女はマリリン・マンソンのTシャツを着て、黒のミニパンツを着て、網タイツを履いて、とがったハイヒールのブーツを履いていた。私たちは化粧をします（黒の口紅、白のファンデーション、黒のアイライナー）。

「OMFG、昨日あなたがドラコ・マルフォイと話しているのを見ました！」彼女は興奮して言いました。

「ええ？ それで？」私は顔を赤らめながら言いました。

「ドラコは好きですか？」私たちがスリザリンの談話室を出て大広間に入るとき、彼女は尋ねました。

fun fact i got a strike on my twitch for reading this during a stream. i got to chapter 20 something and i like to think that a member of twitch staff had to suffer through it.

[azure-firecracker]

ATLA Live Action Stream of Consciousness (Episode 7, Part 1).

Did Ozai try to try Zuko in the original? Did I just forget that? EDITING PHOEBE: It was Zhao but yes that did happen I just have a shit memory.

Does Zhao have enough pull for that?

They definitely didn’t know that he was the Blue Spirit (in the OG)

Nice moment between Zuko and the lieutenant though.

Yeah this is new but I like it. Makes Zhao scarier (editing me: No it’s not)

Aang: Zuko seemed so… Me: Sad.

Okay Northern water tribe is like the only thing that looked significantly better animated. The CGI detail usually looks good but here it drains some of the color (especially the purple)

Arnook…lowkey can’t act.

Why did they do that to Yue’s hair lmao? I have a specific reference I’m thinking of that I’ll link here. (There’s multiple photos in this article. It’s the one with the big hair).

Zhao is a better liar than I remember. But like if he’s this competent now will that diminish Azula’s effect if they get a book 2? Part of why she worked so well was that Zhao was not the best villain.

On the “below average” stuff with Azula: I think it works for this iteration of the character but it’s not in keeping with the original. I wish they’d kept it closer to the original since it’s important to show different kinds of abuse, and I think OG Ozai would only say those things to Azula behind closed doors, but I think it works in isolation.

LIZZY YU IS ACTING HER ASS OFF.

“That I’m the one” who what? Interesting writing choice there. They feel the need to overexplain everything else but they can’t finish this line.

Sokka’s humor is coming through.

Aaw this is a cute Aang and Katara moment.

I liked Pakku as a straight up sexist asshole in the original but I’m not sure that that would have translated so well so I’m glad they gave him some half decent moments.

IS YUE DOING MAGIC?

Aaw Yue’s getting some more cute moments that’s sweet. I love original Yue but I like her candid, grounded moments here. She feels more fleshed out. She and Sokka are cute too.

I like Sokka’s arc but give Katara some of that characterization.

Wait was Yue the fox spirit? Why did they make that choice? How does it serve the narrative?

Hahn doesn’t suck now! Not sure how I feel about that since Yue’s tragedy was not about who she was marrying in the first place, rather about the fact that she had to get married.

“My friends helped me” Aang tbf it was mostly you.

I like that we’re getting some more exploration into healing.

Are they finally gonna let Katara be angry? PLEASE do!

My dad asked why Sokka is wearing so much lipstick.

OH Yue broke off her engagement that’s NEW. Where are they gonna go with this?

Kuruk development that’s cool!

Gordon who tf wrote your dialogue in this scene (and how many times have I written that question in some form or another?)

Why are we into LOK spirit world stuff? This remake can’t handle the material it has.

Can we have one character without an angsty backstory please?

They need to stop harping in this “the hero needs to do everything alone” idea it’s overdone.

They should have given Yue white eyebrows.

This is new and I don’t mind it (with Yue)-confirms my theory that she was supposed to be the avatar.

See Sokka does have a good heart but you can’t make that the center of his character it’s also the center of everyone else’s character. Why does the whole main trio seem the same?

I hate this Aang/Kuruk scene it’s so generic.

More on the way (Y’all KNOW I have thoughts on part 2).

#atla #natla #atla live action #netflix atla #avatar the last airbender #atla stream of consciousness #ozai #zhao #zuko #aang #yue #azula #sokka #katara #master pakku #kuruk

[yespolkadotkitty]

One of These Days - pt 1

Thank you so much to the lovely @hederasgarden for requesting this. I hope you like it!

Words: 1400 ~ Pairing: Rhett Abbott x female doctor reader ~ Content: mentions of injury, swears

* *

It’s busy in the Handsome Gambler tonight.

You weave your way through the throng of patrons. Two couples are playing pool and joking around. A cluster of good ol’ boys prop up the bar, talking about everything and nothing. A group of girls, in their early twenties perhaps, gossip and record TikToks on their phones.

“C’mon,” May, your new boss, yells over the noise of whatever’s on the jukebox. “The Abbott boys are over there. I want you to meet ‘em.”

“Okay,” you agree.

You’re the new doctor in town - the current only doctor at Wabang Town Clinic. You were due to do a handover with Dr Martell, but she left her post yesterday, unexpectedly early, diagnosed with pre-eclampsia.

But it’s OK. You don’t need a handover really. You would like to get to know the town a little, though.

“Boys!” May calls. She has a loud, take-charge voice that matches her fire-engine red hair and perfectly applied ruby red lipstick. 

The two men at the small, scarred table in back look up. One wears a white cowboy hat. He’s older, has a sort of resting bitch-face.

The younger one has antique-gold hair. It curls a little at the nape of his neck, and it’s tousled, like he’s run his hands through it. His eyes are a startling blue, and his gaze meets yours as you and May approach.

“This here’s the new Doctor at clinic,” May says, and adds your name. “This is Perry Abbott and his younger brother, Rhett. They run the ranch a ways outta town.”

Perry touches a finger to his hat, and sips what looks like a whiskey. Rhett stands up, offers his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

He’s got calluses, but his hand is warm and his grip is firm.

“Likewise,” you say. His eyes are the blue of the arctic ocean in summer. You could drown in them. He has a poet’s mouth; soft, a contrast to his face of planes and angles. He should be on billboards.

“Rhett here will be a frequent flyer in your clinic,” May says, leaning on the table.

“And why’s that?” you ask.

You and Rhett break the handshake and your skin tingles with the loss of his touch.

“I’m a rodeo rider, ma’am,” Rhett says, and his voice is all sugar and grit. “It’s in my blood. My daddy was a rodeo champ.”

“Is that right.”

“Royal Abbott was rodeo king in these parts for near a decade,” Perry chimes in. 

“I don’t think I’ll hold out that long,” Rhett mutters, smiling wryly. “My back’ll be fucked soon enough. I wish I could stop, but the thrill of that animal under you - the lights, the cheerin’ - it’s an addiction like no other.”

The way his says addiction just curls up inside you and for a second you have a flash of desire so strong it sets you off kilter. Rhett’s hands on your skin, his mouth ravishing yours, murmuring endearments in that honey bourbon drawl. You bite your lip to stop from making some sound. That’d be hella embarrassing.

“Well, I hope I don’t have to see you to often, Mr Abbott. Don’t take that a wrong way.”

His gaze holds yours for a long moment.

“Call me Rhett. Mr Abbott’s my father.”

*** 

In fact it’s only eight days until you see him again, and it is in clinic.

The bright strip lights in the consultation room don’t lessen his handsomeness.

They should. No fucker looks good under those harsh lights. But somehow the glow catches on the little hollow of his throat exposed by the open neck of his button-down. Somehow it kisses the jut of his jaw. Makes his eyes the blue of a summer sky in your hometown.

Dammit. You cannot allow this. He could be married with six kids for all you know.

“Mr Abbott,” you greet him.

He takes off his stetson and holds it against his chest.

He smiles a little. The left side of his mouth tips up before the right. It’s endearing. “Didn’t I ask you to call me Rhett?”

“Can’t be getting too familiar with patients, Mr Abbott.” But you’re fighting a grin.

He sits, dominating the space despite his lean form.

“How can I help you?”

He flexes his left shoulder, and inhales sharply. “Bull threw me off.”

You make a note on the computer. “How many seconds?”

His grin is quick and devastating. “Nine.”

“Well done. How long ago was this?”

“Two days ago.”

You vaguely remember people in the local store talking about how they were “pulling for” Rhett. “Let’s get that jacket off and have a look. Any pain except when you move it?”

“Kinda a dull ache all the time.”

You frown as he gingerly takes the leather jacket off. 

“Mind if I examine you?”

He nods solemnly. “Go ‘head.”

Somehow you expected him to be - cockier? Quick funny quips and sarcasm? But he has a kind of earnestness to him that’s, quite frankly, captivating.

You gently twist and press his shoulder, noting his hiss of pain. You rotate his arm as far as it will go and he swears under his breath.

This close to him, you can breathe him in. He smells of pasture sweetgrass and just a hint of whiskey, and old leather. It’s intoxicating. You want more. You want to lick the spot just under his pulsepoint.

“Seems like tendonitis to me. It’s inflamed,” you add. “I’d like to do an x-ray to be sure there’s no fracture.”

“Okay,” he agrees.

“I’ll have the hospital call you with an appointment.” You log this on the computer. “Meanwhile, rest it. A hot bath wouldn’t go amiss, either. I hope you don’t have another rodeo coming up.”

He looks chagrined.

“You don’t, do you?”

“There’s one in the next town over,” he admits. “Week from today.”

You frown over this. “And you were going to go, with your shoulder like that?”

He shrugs with his good arm.

“Why?”

“Rodeo’s all I got,” he says softly. He doesn’t ask for pity, he just says it like he’s telling you the time or the day of the week. “Only thing I ever been good at.”

“I doubt that, Mr Abbott.”

He frowns a little, and his hand clenches and unclenches on his thigh. “Well, you’re ‘bout the only one in Wabang who might.”

He reaches for his jacket and can’t hide a grimace at the pain that shudders through him.

You take pity on him. “I’m going to write you a prescription for pain meds, okay? Do not take more’n the maximum amount per day. They’re strong.”

“Thankyou, ma’am.”

You offer him the piece of paper duly signed, and he stands.

“In my professional opinion, you shouldn’t ride until you’ve at least had the x-ray,” you say softly.

He sets his hat on his head. “Thank you for your time, Doc.”

You think to say something else, but what? If he wants to ruin his body ridin’ the rodeo, well, it’s his to with as he pleases. He looks young and fit, after all.

He opens the door and it closes with a click behind him, and you listen to his footfalls on the corridor fade away.

You both do and don’t want to see him again. 

There’s something about him that draws you. You’re Io circling Jupiter, helpless in his orbit, and you know that if he asked you to dance one night at the Handsome Gambler, you’d say yes.

----

@callsign-phoenix @wildbornsiren @a-reader-and-a-writer @lorecraft @sebsxphia @writercole @juniebugg @nerdysuperchick @hoe-on-the-range @tallrock35 @lawfulgranola @chicken-ona-stick

@skvatnavle @green-socks

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott series #rhett abbott fanfic #lewis pullman #outer range #one of the these days #reader insert