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#[separate joke] about T

povlnfour · 2 months

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ CRASH LANDING (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!reader

summary: lando accidentally hits a stranger with his car — the internet can’t stop referring to it as a meet cute. (un)fortunately for lando, mclaren agree.

genre: comedy, fluffy

authors note: a continuation of the ending to beached! you don’t need to have read that to understand this, however it will give some insight to the mclaren matchmaker jokes <3 also in light of that, this is set a few races in the future! *oscarsgf user refers to the character in beached!

*faceclaim: keeahwah on ig (but please imagine her as you see fit!)

landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

tmz posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris posted tweets ੈ✩‧₊˚

lando’s texts with y/n ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just posted ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by carlossainz55 and 203,488 others

landonorris practicing safe driving

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user you are so unserious sir

user SOOOO IS THAT THE GIRL HE HIT BC

user no clue but she’s CUTE

oscarpiastri @/fia look here

landonorris i will literally remind your girlfriend of your murder attempts when you first met

user it’s giving meet cute

user i’d read a fic on it

yourusername you literally drove off BEFORE I WAS EVEN IN THE CAR

landonorris IT WAS AN ACCIDENT I WAS DISTRACTED

user ASSUMING THIS IS HER???

user @/user CLICKING ON HER ACCOUNT IT DEFINITELY IS

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by bestfriend, landonorris and 3,907 others

yourusername monaco recap🇲🇨 successfully didn’t get hit by too many cars!

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user AS IF LANDO HIT THE HOTTEST PERSON IVE EVER SEEN

user nah this is actually a full meet cute i’m sorry this is the shit you see in romcoms

bestfriend still can’t believe you didn’t take compensation but accepted a lunch date instead

yourusername can you blame me

user @/yourusername oh girl no one can you are so real for that

friend1 wait till everyone finds out you’re only there for another 4 days

user WHAT. i can’t have them separated already😶

user parasocial relationship with lando ended y/n is my new idol now

twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

[captions:

photo 1: lando paid for me to get my nails done !!!

photo 2: :D

photo 3: ur all romanticizing my life rn but this is my view in a fancy ass restaurant]

texts with your best friend ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris and 11,276 others

yourusername final days in heaven. i’ll miss so much about this place

👤 tagged bestfriend, landonorris

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user wait she doesn’t live in monaco?? she’s leaving??? just after i’ve gotten attached to her and lando???

bestfriend please come back to visit asap i cannot go too long without my y/n cuddles

landonorris seconded

user um lando sir,,, seconded the whole thing? cuddles included?

user this cannot be the end of the meet cute i refuse to

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri and 286,425 others

landonorris safe to say i’ve had a pretty good break between races

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user a whole post dedicated to her with THAT caption? oh yep they’re whipped

user please tell me y’all are going to stay in contact?

user my heart is shattering already

mclaren 🧡

user MCLAREN PLEASE YOU’VE DONE IT ONCE BEFORE

texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚

mclaren interview ੈ✩‧₊˚

[transcript:

o: safe to say you’ve had a pretty interesting break before this race

l: hey let me remind you what happened for you over winter break!

o: okay but i didn’t literally hit my girlfriend with my car!

l: oh so you finally asked her out officially?

o: stop deflecting!

l: okay okay! yeah safe to say i had a nice time. always need a bit of a change in life!

o: so how are things going now?

l: (awkwardly) well you know how it’s… yeah

o: ah i get it. quite literally been there done that got the t shirt. but hey you did say all that when i got my big moment about mclaren—

l: no no no don’t give them any ideas! they’re listening!]

mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 203,467 people

mclaren the boys are back! don’t forget to check out the new interview on our channel where lando and oscar talk all things hopes for the second half of the season, workouts and… girls?

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user mclaren. mclaren look at me. you know what you have to do

mclaren 👀

user when oscar asked him about y/n… i wanted to cry he looked so sad are things over between them?

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you’re such a gossip

oscarpiastri you love me for it

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you know what i’m thinking?

oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf plotting?

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri plotting!

user what on earth is going on…

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarsgf and 29,481 others

yourusername lately :)

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user you are so ! gorgeous !

user i can see why lando is obsessed

user speaking of… where is our favorite brit in the likes☹️

oscarsgf pretty girl!!!

yourusername oh?!? thank u cutie!!!

user ^ oh their plotting is in progress???

mclaren you’d look good in orange👀🧡

landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

an email from mclaren ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 287,456 people

mclaren it’s race day🫡

view all comments

user WHO IS THE GIRL

user IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS

user PLEASE TELL ME THATS Y/N

user LOOK AT HER STORIES ITS DEFINITELY HER

user SOMEONE WHO IS THERE KEEP US UPDATED PLEASE

user just posted a thread ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 106,544 others

yourusername i don’t know guys, do you think he’s cute?

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user OH MY GOD FINALLY

landonorris i will hit you with my car again

yourusername is that a challenge mr. norris?

landonorris @/yourusername oh you better run fast

yourusername @/landonorris well duh cause you don’t know how to do the speed limit

user i love them. i love them so much.

oscarsgf omg can we force the boys to do mclaren double dates

landonorris leave this comment section now

yourusername @/landonorris too late we’re already texting

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 300,091 others

landonorris we are successful victims of mclarens matchmaking services

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user THEYVE DONE IT AGAINNN

user new fav couple fr

oscarpiastri oh how quickly you all forget me

user @/oscarpiastri WE COULD NEVER

user clearly i need to work for mclaren to get a cute gf

oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf is the second photo giving you flashbacks as well

oscarsgf they’re stealing our thing

yourusername thank you for posting the nice park date photo of me

landonorris well in all the others you’re mid cartwheel

mclaren glad to be of service🧡 anyone else? @/patriciooward how are you doing?

landonorris i’m gonna stop you right there

———————

a/n: WELL. hello friends. i said i wasn’t gonna post a one shot for a while, then this happened. i just hope its up to standard! i’m a little rusty in my writing considering everything!

in regards to new works, gonna be working on getting my wips out soon, and maybe popping some new smaus out at the same time as they’re easy and quick-ish for me to work on considering everything going on! do forgive me if i do some random family orientated stuff — pregnancy hormones are giving me baby fever for everything (is it still baby fever if you’re having a baby?)

let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs/asks — i’ve missed talking to you all sm! i have anon emojis available if people wanna chat too🤍

for the first time in a very long time,,, love, giselle xx

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca

tags for this post: @the-untamed-soul @itsprashimusic @purplephantomwolf @jasminesacademia

#f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris au #lando norris imagine #mclaren #lando norris blurb #lando norris smau #lando norris scenario #lando norris one shot

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eccentricwritingbaby · 26 days

Text

funny wife, happy life

carlos sainz x wife!reader

summary - the grids beloved couple have begun a prank war, subjecting the drivers and fans to their hilarious antics

masterlist

request by anonnie :) thank you love! - hey you could write about carlos that he and Y/N his wife that they are the funniest couple in the paddock that Y/N has the same personality as carlos that they often play pranks on each other on tiktok

your knees were cramping, on the verge of giving out, as you held your hidden position in your husband’s drivers room. charles had told you he’d be back in a few minutes. a few minutes. ha! you’ve been sitting here for ages and you’re about to collapse. until finally you hear the sweet, sweet sounds of your husband's laugh approaching you quickly. you give a quick scramble to collect yourself and pull up your tik tok account in order to record the heart attack soon to be inflicted upon carlos. the door handle jiggles and opens, alerting you of his presence. his footsteps become closer to your hidden position behind a few large items and abruptly stop. you take it as your queue to jump but before you can-

“BOO!” your husband screeches at you with his phone in your face as you let out a mirroring yell and fall backwards on your ass.

“AYE DIOS MIO!” you hold your hand over your racing heart and carlos crumples to the floor in a fit of hysterics. you can’t help but join in soon, but not without playfully swatting at him in a joking matter of pretending to be angry.

“mi-mi amor,” carlos tries his hardest to get out in between laughs as he begins to sit up, “you’re too easy!” he falls again, most likely due him replaying the scenario again in his head.

“aye! easy? i believe i remember you begging for a date with me, señor,” you continue to chuckle at his phrasing, teasing him relentlessly felt like a duty to you.

“whatever,” he brushes off the playful comment and turns his attention to the video he recorded of you on his phone, “y/n, this is too funny,”

“si, bueno. i wish i got that video of you instead, though” you act out a solemn expression and carlos sees right through your jokes.

“well you didn’t, loser. i’m posting this,”

you and carlos had opted for a night in after the race due to his fatigue and your absolute need for a shower. after lando had pleaded with you both for a minute to rethink your decision as you were walking back to the hotel, he ultimately gave up trying and muttered a slight ‘old married couple’ at you and carlos while the both of you just laughed at his mini tantrum.

once inside your hotel room, carlos headed for the shower, but stopped and turned when he noticed you weren’t following.

“i thought you wanted to shower, amor?” he asked in your direction.

“i do, but i kind of want to shower alone tonight, lo siento,” you respond while biting your lower lip to not give away your amusement. see - you had a plan. while carlos was in the shower you were going to get to the vanity and paint on a fake hickey. set up your phone. and get him back for ruining your prank earlier.

carlos stands looking at you with a bit of skepticism. you rarely shower separately, only when upset with each other and he was beginning to worry, “aye, are you mad about earlier? me scaring you?”

“love, the only thing that is scaring me right now is how stinky you are. i’m not mad i just don’t need a smelly shower with you,” you shrug off his accusation with a laugh in order to lighten the mood and your husband catches on, chuckling with you.

“okay, you don’t need to tell me twice,” he begins to make his way over to you with his arms out wide, “you do want a stinky hug before i hop in, no?” calling your bluff he tries to latch his arms around you as you scream and try to run away.

“sto-stop!” you giggle as he grabs you in his arms, “eww! carlos!” the whine slips from your lips as he starts planting kisses all over your neck and face, tickling you causing you to let out more laughter. his grip loosens and he backs away towards the bathroom, grabbing his change of clothes off the dresser as he does so. one arm raised and a finger pointed at you he lets go of a very loose warning, “this isn’t over, cariño,”

“oh no!” you gasp in dramatics, “the tickle monster! what am i five?” carlos just laughs and releases a ‘loca’ under his breath as he shuts the bathroom door and turns on the shower. you then quickly get to work with your makeup, planting the perfect looking hickey in a place he hasn’t seen all day, but will very soon. once it was done, you discreetly hide your phone and patiently wait on the bed for carlos to leave the bathroom.

fresh out of the shower, your husband steps into your room with just a pair of sweatpants on as he continues to run the towel over his damp hair. you take that as your sign to begin your prank and tie your hair up into a bun - giving carlos the perfect view of your neck. walking over to him, you plant a kiss on his lips and step back from him as he turns his attention towards his wife. looking you up and down for a second, making eye contact with the hickey, you feign confusion and innocence by proceeding to ask, “que, mi amor? is there something on my face?” you attempt to turn and ‘check’ yourself in the mirror, but carlos pulls on your arm, spinning you around to face back at him. he quickly discards the towel in his hand, throwing it to the floor, as he looks closer at your neck.

“did you hurt yourself, cariño?” he asks softly, “maybe with one of your hair tools or something,” he finishes as if he’s almost assuring himself.

“no? what is this carlos?” you question, trying your damnedest not to let out a smile.

“tienes algo en el cuello,” you have something on your neck uh oh. carlos only spoke direct spanish with you when he was deep in a feeling - lust, happiness, anger. “parece un…” it looks like a…

“que?” you ask softly.

“a hickey, y/n. it looks like a hickey. y sé muy bien que no fui yo quien te dio esto,” and i know very well it was not me that gave you this

“oh, oh that? ya, um, actually that might be from my curling iron, you were right!” responding lightly only made carlos narrow his eyes at you further.

“y/n, qué hice mal,” what did i do wrong?

“oh no, carlos, baby, nothing- you did nothing wrong,” you panic at his sadness and hold his face in your hands, “it’s just a prank, los, te lo prometo,” i promise you

he looks down at you, widening his eyes in hope before he says anything, then you hear - so quietly you almost miss it, ‘take it off’.

“i will, i will baby. come here, come with me,” you lead him into the bathroom, grabbing your makeup wipes in haste and rubbing the fake hickey right off your neck. you hear your husband let out a long and deep exhale before he gives your sides a squeeze.

“you just took ten years off my life with that stress, amor,”

“lo siento, carlos. i’ll even show you the video where i put it on if that makes you feel better,” you turn around in his hold and give him not one, not two, but three quick pecks to the lips as you drag him back into the room to retrieve your phone. as of that moment, carlos begins plotting his revenge.

the next week, your husband and you arrive early at the paddock for race day due to his necessary media duties. with your hands intertwined, you begin making your way to the ferrari garage - passing a few reporters and fans on the way. while making your way, a few fans had called out to the both of you. carlos always joked that his fans loved you more than him, but every joke has a bit of truth to it.

“y/n! carlos! over here! can we get a picture?”

your husband - ever the gentleman - turns his attention to the young group of girls at the barricade and leads you both over to them. once carlos had signed a few things and taken a few pictures, you both turn to leave but are prevented by the girls.

“y/n! can we get a picture with you too!” carlos checks you over, asking you non-verbally if you’re okay with it and you slightly nod in his direction to signify the answer. bending down and over slightly, the girls grab a few selfies with you and speak to you about their love for your tik toks, tweets, and overall personality. with your light ego boost, you turn and chuckle to your husband.

“isn’t it great that your fans love me more?” you give him a sly smile and a poke to his stomach as he laughs along with you.

“aye, they’re just saying that to make you feel better, amor,” he shoots back quickly.

“nuh-uh,” you scoff back, “they love me so much more, i think i better be the one to race today,” at this point the girls are recording your interaction while giggling at the banter your husband and you have provided.

“in your dreams, cariño,” he bites back with a smile.

with that comment, you whip around to face the group, “do you hear how he speaks to me? my own husband! he hates me!” you sigh dramatically as carlos pulls you into his arms. the crowd before you erupts in laughter at your antics and your husband bids polite goodbyes, leading you away. you’re both leaving in cackles as you continue to jab each other back and forth.

as you round the corner to the ferrari garage, you both run into fernando walking towards aston martin.

“hola, nando!” you call out with a wave. he stops curtly and leans in your direction, arms parting for a hug. you receive it kindly, swaying lightly back and forth all while exchanging pleasantries.

“aye, he oído felicitaciones están en orden,” i hear congratulations are in order fernando presses with a smile.

“porque felicitaciones?” why congratulations? you ask back to him.

“oh! lo siento, ¿se supone que nadie debe saberlo?” i’m sorry, is no one supposed to know?

your confusion ends when you turn to your now - dying laughing - husband at your left, “¿le dijiste a todo el mundo que estaba embarazada?” did you tell everyone i was pregnant?

carlos can’t even shake out words at this point due to laughter as he just begins to vigorously nod his head yes. fernando takes this as his sign to head back in his previous direction, chuckling under his breath something about ‘these damn kids again’.

“you’re dead, carlos sainz,” you state matter-of-factly at him.

“i’m sorry, me or my fathe-”

“YOU KNOW WHO!” you yell back, cutting off his smart ass comment, “does the whole grid really think im fucking pregnant, you ass?” this time carlos’ laughter is cut short and he just slowly shakes his head yes, nervousness now overwhelming his features instead of amusement.

“do you now realize how stupid that was?” you ask him again. again he slowly nods his head yes, his eyes only meeting his shoes. out of your peripheral, you can see lando approaching the both of you and he holds out his arms in glee.

“there are my favorite soon-to-be parent-”

“SHUT IT!” you snap in his direction, “the only child i will be raising for the foreseeable future is the one in front of me,” you nod your head towards carlos, and his eyes - again - never leave his shoes. lando begins to laugh even louder than your husband did before at his friend being scolded like a child.

“oh i am so tweeting about this,” he lets out between laughs.

you take a glance over at your husband and whisper a light ‘karma’ into his ear before you kiss his cheek and head off to find his family in the garage.

after the race, carlos is doing interviews and you are searching to find him. not being in the media pen, but instead just along the gates talking to reporters, you easily walk up to your husband and wait over to the side for him to finish. the reporter speaking to him notices your presence and begins to wave you over. you shake it off quickly, wanting your husband to have his shining moment, but instead he also joins in waving you over - causing you to reluctantly head in their direction.

“hi!” you squeak out to the reporter, carlos pulling you into his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“hi, y/n! thank you for joining us for the interview!” the young woman starts.

“thank you for letting me crash!” you reply back with a giggle.

“not crashing, you’re here by invitation,” your husband speaks up, kissing your forehead after doing so.

“i’m sorry if we were too forward to invite you,” the reporter chimes in fast.

“no, no!” you assure back, “i just didn’t want to outshine ‘ole carlos over here, you know how it is,” you joke, giving the reporter and your husband a laugh.

“for sure,” the young woman gives you, “we love you two as a couple, you both have been informally deemed the grids funniest couple with all your banter and tik tok pranks, how do you both feel about that title?”

“it’s a heavy weight to carry,” you dramatically sigh, “i have to keep the people on their toes and give them what they want,” the reporter laughs once again at your comments as you shrug before your husband chimes in, “funny wife, happy life - right?” you all share one more laugh before the reporter lets you two depart.

as you’re walking out of the paddock, hand in hand, you reach up on your toes to plant a kiss to carlos’ lips. he hums back in approval, stopping you, with his hold moving to your waist and pressing deeper. you smile into the kiss and can feel him doing the same. once pulling apart, your husband stares into your eyes, the contact moving from eye to eye to lips. you almost crumble watching him shamelessly adore you.

“what are you thinking about, amor?” you gently ask, attempting not to ruin the soft moment with loud diction.

“just how much i love you, cariño,” his reply is simple, yet means so much. even though you both are playful with your antics and pranks, your love is something that never falters with seriousness. and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

2K notes · View notes

reysdriver · 8 days

Text

Keeping It Quiet | E.M.

Eddie comes to visit you when everyone is sleeping... or so you thought — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: suggestive content, making out, fear of getting caught, jokes about guns/getting shot

words: 1.7k

a/n: idgaf about timeline or continuity with the show when I do this series of oneshots, it's just kind of an alternate version of the show where Hopper is still here around the events of season 4 ig (also I LOVE this gif of joseph omg)

It was late at night, but you weren’t sleeping. You were taking advantage of the quiet house and catching up on some reading that finally wasn’t for school. You laid with the book at the foot of your bed, and your feet dangling over your pile of stuffed animals right by your pillows.

It was so comfortable, you forgot about the world around you.

And you were only brought back by the terrifying sound of someone knocking on your window. It scared you right out of your haze, at least until you looked outside and realised who it was.

Eddie was standing right outside your bedroom wall with a stupid grin on his face, and he was pointing to the windowsill, wordlessly asking you to let him in.

After rolling your eyes and marking your spot in the book, you got up and opened the window for your boyfriend.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, leaning over the separation to peck his lips quickly.

“Not quite the warm welcome I was expecting.” He grunted, using the log you had placed under your window to climb in your room. “You’re not happy to see me?”

“You scared the hell out of me ‘cause you didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

“I didn’t know I was coming over until I was already in my van. I haven’t seen you in forever, plus I had something I wanted to show you.”

The last part was intriguing, but you still wanted to correct his dramatics. You’ve learned that if you didn’t act as the voice of reason sometimes, he would start believing his own exaggerations.

“It’s been two days since you last saw me.” And it didn’t take long for you to give in to whatever he was hiding. “But what is it that I have to see?”

He let out an exaggerated sigh as he flopped down on the end of your bed. He looked up at you with fake sadness. “I should have known you would only like me for material things, Madonna.”

“So what if I was a material girl? You’d still love me anyways.”

He started speaking like he was in the school play, which he would never do. “It’s just sad—”

You jumped towards him to cover his mouth with your hand. As much as you loved his antics and would encourage it at any other time, it was all quiet in your house and you were petrified of waking your family.

“Are you crazy?” You asked him in a hushed scold.

He just nodded happily since he couldn’t speak with your hand still over his mouth.

“If my dad hears you, he’ll burst into the room with a gun in his hand. You might be able to charm the pants off of me effortlessly, but I think you’d get shot if you tried to test your charisma on the chief of police.”

You cautiously took your hand away from Eddie’s face while he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that and show me what you wanted me to see in the first place.” You told him, sternly but lovingly.

“Wow, you really are the chief’s daughter.” He joked as he stood up and took off his leather jacket.

You figured he was just making himself comfortable, but when he started taking off the t-shirt he was wearing underneath the coat, you wondered what was really going on.

Then you saw it.

On his right side, where his rib cage ends, there was a new tattoo. A flaming sword that you knew was based on his current—and favourite—Dungeons and Dragons campaign of his.

He pointed to the pommel of the weapon, which was a heart shaped gemstone.

“Did you see the end? It doesn’t have anything to do with the game, but I designed it while thinking of you.” He smiled at you, and you smiled back. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, Eds.” You answered sincerely. “When did you get it done?”

“Friday. Right after your dad picked you up from the mall.”

“Did it hurt?”

He shook his head as he gently pushed you back against your pillows, then positioned himself on top of you.

“Not as much as it hurts to be away from you.”

You had to stifle your own laugh at his corniness. As stupid as it was, you did feel kind of flattered by him at that moment. And that’s exactly why you let him kiss you, despite you being just a few decibels away from your sleeping father waking up and grounding you permanently for sneaking a boy in.

But you pushed all your worries aside and let him press his luscious lips against yours. God, how you couldn’t get enough of that sensation.

You loved how he kissed you just because he likes to kiss you, how he used flavoured chapstick so he could heal his chapped lips, and how he always tasted faintly of cigarettes and the lemon candies you got him hooked on.

You loved all that almost as much as what came next.

When he moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, and then your neck. He nipped the skin just lightly and then continued to work his magic. You had both noted another time just like this that your bodies must be made for each other, and this exact moment was perfect proof for that claim.

“Oh, god, Eddie. You’re so good at this.” You praised, trying to keep your voice down.

He mumbled an ‘mhm?’ against your throat. He was such a sucker for your affirmations.

“Yeah. Just be careful not to leave a bruise.”

Eddie lifted his head up, causing your face to morph into a frown from the expression of pleasure just a second ago.

“You don’t want little reminders of my love?” He asked, lips exaggeratedly pouted.

“Not when my family can see them, loverboy.”

He seemed satisfied with that response, returning his attention to you and practically attacking your neck with his kisses. The way his mouth was worshipping your neck damn near put you in a trance. It was so good that you didn’t even notice the soft knock at your door, nor the opening that followed it.

When your younger sister called out your name softly, that’s when you realised the importance of not letting your guard down. You tried to push Eddie off of you as he hadn’t seen Eleven there yet, but he got up quickly once he did notice.

You urged him to sit down and stay silent while you pulled El away from your bedroom and into the bathroom, all while your sister stared at you with a wide-eyed expression.

Eleven was the first one to speak between you two. “Who was that in your room?”

“That was my friend.” You said, partially honest. He was your friend, he was just also more. “His name is Eddie.”

“What were you and Eddie doing?”

You racked your brain, trying to think of something believable to say that would get your sister off your back. You really should have prepared a lie before this, because it was proving to be more difficult than you would have thought; of course, you never really thought about your sister catching you making out with your shirtless boyfriend.

“We were playing.” You answered as confidently as possible.

“Playing?”

You nodded. “Yeah, you know when you and I play-fight, like wrestling? When Dad sometimes thinks we’re hurting each other but we’re really just having fun?”

“So you and Eddie were just having fun?”

“Mhm.” You ran a hand through her hair, feeling somewhat guilty about your lie. “Why? Were you worried about me?”

She didn’t seem fazed at all by your fingers combing through her hair, but her cheeks flooded with pink when you asked if she knocked on your door out of concern for you.

“I heard you were awake and I wanted to know what you were doing.” Eleven told you.

It really was nothing embarrassing, she’s just a shy girl. And now you felt less guilty about lying since you know she was just curious rather than upset.

“Well, I was just playing with my friend. But, don’t tell Dad about Eddie, okay?”

“Why not?”

Another question you didn’t quite have an answer for. Luckily, you were quick enough on your toes that your little sister wouldn’t notice the nonsense spilling from your mouth.

“You know Dad can be a fun sponge sometimes. Like when he spends an hour questioning your friends before you can hang out, or when he won’t let us turn the couch into a pillow fort. If he hears about Eddie, he won’t let us have fun together anymore, and I would be really sad if I couldn’t see my friend.”

She seemed to be eating your excuse up, knowing exactly what you meant.

“Okay. I won’t tell him.” She agreed. “I don’t want you to be sad.”

“And I don’t want you to be tired, little lady. So, now that you know what you wanted to learn, how about you go back to sleep, okay?”

“Okay, goodnight.”

She opened the slightly creaky bathroom door and headed back to her bedroom, hopefully to fall back asleep soon.

“Goodnight, El. Sleep tight.” You called in a volume just above the whisper you were using just seconds before.

You stood in the bathroom alone after you heard your sister’s bedroom door close. For a minute, you just listened to everything around your house. The quiet wind blowing outside, the sounds of Eddie flipping through your books as he waited for you to come back, and best of all, not a peep from your father’s room.

It was safe to return to Eddie in your bedroom and resume the fooling around from before.

Once you silently pushed open your door, closed it again, and sat down next to your boyfriend on the corner of your bed, he pulled you onto his lap.

“So, we’re in the clear now?” Eddie asked you.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we can be any less careful than usual. That just proves my family can hear us, so let’s not be stupid.”

A flirty grin spread across Eddie’s face as he trailed his fingers under your shirt and up your sides. “Baby, I can’t promise anything. Stupid is my middle name.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x hopper!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction

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museumofferedophelia · 3 months

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Women are instilled from an early age with a deep shame regarding our female anatomy.

We're told our genitals smell like fish, that "roast beef curtains," are hilarious and a sign that a woman is a sl*t, that our natural pubic hair is offensive. That periods are disgusting and shameful, and should be kept secret. We aren't even properly taught about our own anatomy- a lot of women don't know until later in life that the vulva and vagina are separate, and that the urethra is not the same opening as the vaginal opening.

There's hardly any research into female-specific medical conditions. Nearly 10% (1 in 10) women are afflicted with endometriosis, yet there's literally no research on what causes it. PCOS is also under-researched. It's all shoved under the rug, too stigmatised to be discussed.

While boys can talk freely about their dick and balls, the words "vagina" or "vulva," are still treated like a humiliating joke at best, and a vulgar obscenity at worst.

Men talk with pride about their genitals. To "grow a set" = to start acting tough and assertive. To "have big balls" = to be brave. "Big dick energy" = to be a charismatic "alpha" that commands attention.

Meanwhile, there are no positive cultural connotations regarding the vulva/vagina. Even "serving cunt" is used as a tongue-in-cheek memetic joke.

I think it's very predatory that shame, disgust and aversion about having a vagina/vulva is marketed as a sign that a girl/woman is dysphoric. That it should just be censored and called a "front hole" or a "bonus hole," to avoid the stigma. It's a cultural by-product of the crushing misogyny imbedded into society.

MOST women grow up feeling shame about having a vulva/vagina, and have to put conscious effort into unlearning that shame.

#lgb #radfem friendly #terfblr #feminism #radical feminists do interact #radical feminism #radblr #terf #dropthet #gender critical #trans rights #transgender #transmasc #transman #nonbinary #genderfluid

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lovers-rck · 4 months

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modern au where you accidentally send ellie, your bestfriend, a nude PT3

pt1 here , pt2 here pt4 here

n/a finally.

☆

ellie was lying on her bed. her eyes were closed, her mouth was mumbling the words of the song softly, not wanting to take the spotlight away from the voice that sounded through the record player.

outside, the sun was shining at its brightest, burning the people who dared to walk under its reign.

"uhg i love that song" ellie murmurs as the song ends.

"it's good" you agree. a bead of perspiration ran down the valley of your breasts "it's too hot in here. can you open the window?"

ellie nods and once it's done she throws herself back on the bed hard, bouncing you up and down. she giggles dumbly.

"you can put on your bikini if you want, you left it here the last time we went swimming"

"so that's why i couldn't find it" you can see how ellie smiles slightly "where is it?"

"second drawer on the right"

"got it."

you find your bikini folded neatly in the drawer next to her t-shirts. the bathroom feels a thousand times hotter than the whole house, so you hurry to put on your bikini top and go back out to ellie's room. she's still in the same position, singing songs from an album you don't know.

"we should go swimming again" you say as you walk in, your bare feet against the floor "it was fun"

ellie partially stands up with the help of her arms and watches you, walking around her room in your bikini top and shorts. the photo incident had already been forgotten in your mind, but ellie was still thinking about that moment.

even though she assured you that she had deleted the photo, the truth was that she still had it in her gallery, feeling guilty every time she looked at it.

"sure" ellie said, abandoning her gaze on your body "if you want to drown yourself again"

"i didn't drown" you protested "that wave came in unexpectedly"

you lie down next to her, staring at the ceiling just as she does, separated by inches. ellie's almost-kiss comes to mind, but you dismiss that memory as quickly as you can, trying not to fantasize about something that isn't going to happen.

she's your best friend. just that.

it isn't long before the album comes to an end, burying the room in a deep silence. The air is uncomfortable for ellie, who feels the need to speak up and confess her sin.

"i didn't delete the picture" she says after a few minutes.

you furrow your eyebrows and look at her "what? which picture?"

ellie abandons her gaze to the ceiling and looks at your breasts, and then at you "you know..."

the answer hits you "oh"

"i'm sorry" ellie says "i had to tell you, it doesn't feel right"

you look up at the ceiling again "why didn't you delete it?"

you hear ellie laugh lightly "isn't it obvious?"

you feel your heart in your throat, ready to come out the moment you utter a word.

"it's not obvious to me"

an immense heat takes hold of ellie's body, a heat that is not due to the temperature outside. she feels her cheeks redden and her lips feel extremely dry and suddenly the ceiling looks so interesting that she want to watch it forever.

"well..." in your eyes, ellie doesn't look as confident as usual, more vulnerable "i think i like you."

"you think?"

"okay, okay" ellie snorts "i like you"

"it's just weird" she continues "i mean, it feels weird that you like your best friend, you know? i don't know, i haven't stopped thinking about it since you sent me that picture"

you don't say anything, and ellie takes that as a bad sign.

"i'm sorry" she mumbles, looking at the ceiling and wanting to hit her head "i shouldn't have said that. i would leave if i could but it's my home so...."

"can you kiss me?" you speak and ellie looks at you

"what?"

ellie analyzes your gestures, looking for some indication that what you are telling her is a vile joke that you can both laugh at later, or pretend to laugh at.

"a real kiss this time" you say and ellie smile embarrassed as she remembers "kisses on the corner don't count"

"shut up. I didn't know how you were going to react."

"you didn't even see my reaction! you ran into the living room!"

they both laugh uproariously, although ellie laughs mostly out of embarrassment.

a few seconds pass. fifteen seconds if you ask ellie.

"well, are you going to do it?" you mutter.

ellie stands up and moves closer to you, leaning on one arm to support her weight so she doesn't fall on you. you can feel her confidence return as she provokes your lips by gently brushing hers across them but not making full contact.

"ellie" your voice comes out as a strangled moan.

and she finally kisses you.

the warmth of her lips impacting against yours and sending you into a dreamy spiral. her hands hold you as if you are going to disappear, encircling and touching your skin.

everything about her touch counterbalances her personality. her touch is kind, gentle, soft, and it's ellie's

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #tlou

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ozzgin · 5 months

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Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (IV)

Happy Holidays! Remember your plans to visit friends and family back in your home country? Scratch that. The Yakuza men have other ideas for you in this cozy Christmas special. And you finally get to meet their fearsome Boss, who has a request for you.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

You stare at your phone in disbelief, rereading each line and hoping you've misunderstood the kanji. Daitou and Kazuya are quietly frowning behind you, unsure how to help in such a situation. Their lack of response only confirms it.

The brief paragraph is written in bold, red font: Due to weather conditions, all flights are cancelled until further notice. Passengers have been refunded and will need to repurchase their tickets at first convenience.

One glimpse at the last-minute prices and you're certain of it: you won't be going home for Christmas. You slouch and sigh, somewhat at peace with the idea. What else can you do? You might as well get yourself a KFC bucket and stare at the holiday lights in the city center. You and the couples taking cheesy Christmas selfies, who will later wonder about the gloomy loner behind them philosophically crunching on spicy wings.

"Don't look so defeated, (Y/N). You can just spend that time with us instead. We're not such terrible company, are we?" Kazuya jokes, trying to cheer you up.

"We could even go on a trip around New Year."

Your eyes light up in anticipation, the sadness vanishing almost instantly.

"Can we go to one of those hot spring inns? I've always wanted to visit an onsen." You put your hands together pleadingly.

"Whoa! Take me out to dinner first if you're that eager to see me naked." The blonde man winks at you smugly.

"How would I see you naked? The baths are separated, aren't they?" You inquire.

"We can't go to the regular ones." Daitou pulls his collar slightly downwards, revealing a fragment of his traditional tattoos. True. A yakuza would never be allowed among the civilians. "We'd have to book a private bath, so there wouldn't be anyone else."

You blush at the prospect of being alone with the two men. Kazuya notices your nervousness and is about to continue his teasing, but Daitou speaks before him, unbothered and oblivious:

"Besides, you've already seen me naked. I can tell you Kazuya doesn't look much different. There's nothing to be shy about."

The blonde man can only gawk, taken aback, and you shove Daitou in a flustered panic, fumbling to find an excuse or a change of subject.

He didn't have to make your business public like that, or he could've at least announced it without you being present. Judging by the blonde's speechless reaction, you're guessing he hasn't been told about your sneaky office smooching that led to the occasional sleepover. If you think about it, there's nothing shameful about being intimate with your boyfriend, but...It's not something you're fully accustomed to yet.

As promised, after the coworker incident you were soon greeted with a job offer in the neighborhood. When you went to your old office to discuss the mandatory year contract, the managers nervously handed you an approval for resignation and refused to discuss any details. You were free to go, no penalty or obligation. They had a fearful demeanor and you hoped Daitou didn't dismember anyone involved. Regardless of his means, you were now at the liberty to pursue other careers.

On the other hand, you were rather anxious about your new workplace. You had flashing visions of drug cartels and gambling parlors, with thugs rattling their drinks at you and demanding proper service. Windows breaking and masked men rolling onto the floor, armed to the brim. Ginza hostesses scurrying behind you and asking for help against an angered client. The night before your first day, you restlessly shuffled in your bed, plagued by second thoughts. What could you possibly do for the yakuza? What ghoulish demands would they prepare for you?

Daitou was the one to accompany you in the morning. He showed you to your desk, and you could discern the blurred frames of people angrily discussing matters in the opposing meeting room, separated by a large window. You gulped.

"They're building a new apartment complex two streets down." Your boyfriend mentioned casually, helping you settle with your belongings.

"Huh?"

"Oh, sorry, I thought you were curious about their talk."

"I mean, I am, but...Is that it?" You gazed at him incredulously.

"What else? This is a real estate office. Upstairs is the stock investments."

"Oh...Oh...I thought..." You were a little embarrassed. The imaginary scenarios of bloody battles and crimes that kept you awake felt quite ridiculous now.

Daitou seemed to have picked up on your assumptions, because he chuckled and ruffled your hair, following with an explanation.

"Boss is very strict with our Ninkyo-Do. If you're caught with drugs or petty theft, you're excommunicated. We used to have a bunch of gambling casinos as main income, but nowadays there's too much pressure from the police, ya know? Half of our members aren't even officially registered with the Yakuza, so they can't be tracked. We mostly do stocks and real estate. That's where the cash is.

Heh. Kinda boring, ain't it? I'm afraid you showed up way after the golden times. Even I'm too young for it. If ya want, I can ask one of the retired seniors to tell you about it. He has a lot of great stories."

You held your tongue from bringing up his frequent killing sprees and just nodded, amused by the fact that his code of conduct didn't register human casualties as wrong. The Yakuza have strict rules of ethics that set them apart from regular mafia. Depending on the Oyabun, or Head of the Family, this chivalrous way of living is reinforced to all members or conveniently swept under the rug. Daitou's Boss seemed to fit in the former category.

Therefore your "office job" turned out to be an actual office job without the quotes. Although you were often reminded the people passing by weren't your regular salarymen. Many of them were entirely transparent with you, striking up conversations about their latest arrest, or complaining about the poor quality of their pinky finger prosthetic they'd ordered from the Philippines.

But this isn't the time to reminisce. The prolonged silence is unbearable and one could fry eggs on your hot, burning cheeks. Kazuya is the one to break the awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah...You coming to the Christmas thing this evening?"

"We'll be there." Daitou smiles innocently, unaware of the discomfort he just caused.

Kazuya raises his eyebrows in surprise and looks at you.

"Did you...?"

"Yup. It's all fine." The dark haired man nods reassuringly.

"Then I'll see you at dinner, little (Y/N). Don't catch a fever with all that steam blowing out of you." He laughs at your still baffled expression and places his large hand on your head, departing.

Daitou holds the door open for you and you hurry inside. As you both walk down the hallway of the luxurious restaurant, you can't help the nagging feeling that he's once again omitted some vital information.

"Can you tell me again who else is coming? Just Kazuya?"

"Oh no, it's a Family meeting. So Boss and the rest of the Seniors, too."

You gasp in horror, but before you can scold him, you find yourself behind the canvas screen divider, facing a table of older men in suits, holding their drinks and eyeing you suspiciously.

"Oi, who the fuck is this, Daitou?" one of them growls.

"I already told you before, (Y/N). My girlfriend."

"Huh? Did you seriously just bring a civvy to our meeting? I knew you got a loose screw, boy, but this tops it all."

Daitou frowns and steps in front of you, visibly annoyed.

"If ya got a problem with my woman being here, I can settle it for you, old man. When was the last time you fought someone?"

"'s that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've gotten too comfortable sitting up there and barking orders. Let me remind you why they leave the killings to me."

The thick tension in the air is quickly dispersed by a loud, relaxed laugh. At the end of the table, a heavily scarred man with grey hair is clapping his hands in delight, seemingly amused by the events unfolding. He glances at you and pats a cushioned seat to his right.

"There you are! Come join us, miss (Y/N). Ignore those rusty grumps, they ain't seen a woman outside a host club." He throws the instigator a brief glare. "Is that any way to talk to my guest, Oota?"

The man swallows dryly and mutters an apology. He goes back to his drink, preoccupied, and the rest follow suit.

You hesitantly kneel down to your designated place, sheepishly peeking at the mysterious figure. Could it be? As if reading your mind, Daitou places an encouraging hand on your waist and lowers his head to your ear, swiftly whispering "that's Boss" before going to greet the others at the table.

"I-it's a pleasure meeting you, Sir." You mumble nervously.

"No no, pleasure is all mine. I'm Eiji Ijichi, 8th Head of our Family."

His introduction is unexpectedly warm and his easygoing way of speaking reminds you a lot of Daitou. The faintest grin threatens to appear, but you cover your mouth. With enough imagination, this could be the equivalent of meeting your in-laws. This is Daitou's family, after all. A criminally scary one, but nonetheless you've been welcomed with open arms.

"Do you drink?" The older man asks you, raising his porcelain cup.

"Naturally." You exclaim and lift your own cup enthusiastically.

"Attagirl!"

As the night progresses, the men at the table are loosening up under the influence of expensive alcohol. Kazuya seems to be caught in a terribly involved conversation with Daitou and one of their Captains, gesturing dramatically and occasionally raising his tone. You notice your glass has once again been filled by the waitress and take another sip, satisfied with observing their fun from the sidelines. Boss has a similar approach, gazing nostalgically over the rowdy group of thugs.

He reaches for his pack of smokes and you scramble to pick up the lighter, politely bowing as you light up his cigarette. He smiles at your gesture.

"I see Daitou's trained you already."

He ponders for a moment, gently blowing a cloud of smoke upwards.

"You'll make a good wife."

"Excuse me?" You question, startled by his sudden remark.

"It's hard to tell, but I'm getting pretty old myself." He snickers at his self made compliment. "Soon it'll be time to pick my successor. I have no children, unless you count that rascal I picked from the streets." He says as he tilts his chin towards Daitou.

"I love him like my own kid, but I'm sure you noticed he's a little off. Everyone is terrified of him. You can't have a leader if everyone runs away from him, ya know? I was starting to get worried I'd work myself through retirement. Kazuya can only do so much!

Then he comes up to me grinning like an idiot. I thought, 'There it is. He finally lost it', but instead he asks me if I want to see a photo of his girlfriend. Girlfriend?! I was ready to witness some crusty body pillow, my hand was on the phone to call our Family doctor. He shows me a cute foreigner standing next to him. Now I'm pretty sure he's not smart enough to fake photos like that, so it must be the real deal. 'How the Devil did ya pull this one?' I asked him. Cause listen, I was rather handsome back in my day and I still wouldn't have been this lucky.

And would ya look at that, it's the miss that moved into our apartments! How's the living conditions, by the way? Everything going fine?"

You nod energetically.

"Good, good."

He crosses his arms and nods himself, satisfied. He turns to gaze at you intently, with a face you can't quite read.

"You gotta excuse a drunk old man for rambling so much. What I'm trying to say...well...

Take care of him when he becomes the 9th, will ya? If he has you, I'm sure he'll manage. But don't tell him I said that! You gotta keep them humble. See, that's a lesson for you too. If there's one person the Head of the Family bows to, that's his wife! But I doubt he'd let the power get to his head."

You both turn to Daitou. He just finished pouring more sake to his superior and notices your stare. He blushes slightly and waves, unsure why he's suddenly being observed.

"I think so, too." You respond, waving back.

How would that look on a CV? Ane-san of a Yakuza family.

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

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kiwi-bitchez · 7 months

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Double Down, Triple Threat

Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader

Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension.

Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending.

Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.

Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics.

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways.

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something."

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order.

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret.

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on.

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that.

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were.

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers.

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar.

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well.

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig.

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him.

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface.

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer.

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him.

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket.

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that."

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull.

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt.

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards.

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night.

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot.

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive.

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot.

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something."

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road.

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt.

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong.

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk.

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one.

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood.

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper.

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful.

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door.

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks.

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go."

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step.

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking.

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live."

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies.

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?"

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought.

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat.

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here."

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights.

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought.

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?"

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar.

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward.

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on.

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped.

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close.

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy.

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat.

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.”

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside.

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now.

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane.

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this.

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond.

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that.

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say.

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well.

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile.

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago.

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips.

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window.

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form.

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much.

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue.

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner.

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise.

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be.

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.”

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath.

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch.

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief.

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow.

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind.

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there.

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing.

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights.

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow.

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.”

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel.

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale.

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request.

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut.

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes.

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did.

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it.

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off.

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him.

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.”

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances.

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over.

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were.

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…”

He understood, he hated how much he understood.

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him.

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run.

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat.

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive.

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt.

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails.

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers.

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed.

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point.

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction.

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale.

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot.

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice.

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip.

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction.

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?”

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill.

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away.

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands.

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom.

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on.

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself.

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark.

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked.

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you.

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious.

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present.

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed.

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream.

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go.

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around.

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin.

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways?

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away.

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back.

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel.

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging.

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.”

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up.

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.”

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most.

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs.

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way.

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you.

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time.

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?”

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him.

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand.

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary.

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else.

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes.

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch.

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top?

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching.

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment.

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point.

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end.

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold.

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean.

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two.

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his.

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could.

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen.

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong.

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep.

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you.

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months.

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control.

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed.

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze.

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue.

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true.

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper.

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment.

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall.

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl.

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time.

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over.

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was.

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear.

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.”

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this.

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.”

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips.

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you.

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom.

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips.

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom.

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets.

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you.

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed.

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away.

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself.

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect.

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck.

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.”

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body.

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long.

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs.

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up.

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks.

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.”

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away.

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.”

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit.

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred.

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.”

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask.

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest.

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip.

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle.

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?”

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other.

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you.

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning.

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone.

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest.

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit.

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand.

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time.

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment.

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare.

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening.

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more.

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more.

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time.

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go.

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you.

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time.

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state.

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you.

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you.

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could.

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all.

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now.

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him.

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter.

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue.

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you.

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you.

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts.

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future.

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page.

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock.

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips.

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake.

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his.

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours.

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses.

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.”

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center.

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you.

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name.

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release.

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements.

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm.

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name.

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van.

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets.

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss.

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all.

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice.

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come.

A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #smut #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson #stranger things smut #Eddie munson fanfiction

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bonesandchalamet · 10 months

Text

predictable - c.fisher

masterlist

requested: y- “Can you do a conrad fisher x reader where the readers family has a house next to theirs so they grew up going to cousins for the summers (cons age), and they are in love w each other but don’t want to admit it and everyone notices it around them/teases them. maybe a flash ward to their wedding in a couple of years and everyone’s speeches are like “yeah i won the bet they would be married by now” or smth like that?“

pairings: conrad fisher x fem!reader

warnings: fluff + jokes

a/n: I hope I did this justice anon! xx there are NO spoilers of book 2 or season 2!

you can hear his voice. it’s muffled, he sounds like he’s in your kitchen, a blessing of having the bedroom right above it, but you can hear him talking to your mother.

you don’t have time to think, you just fling your legs over your mattress and rush down the stairs at an appropriate pace. you’d just woke up, maybe not your best state to be in, but you couldn’t wait to see conrad fisher. the boy next door.

he’d gone to Princeton, smart cookie if you say so yourself, and you hadn’t seen him since last summer. in fact, you only saw him maybe once or twice outside of the neighborhood and that was getting ice cream and groceries. other than that, you live by the fence that separates your yards waiting to hear the laughter and conversations from the Conklin and fisher kids.

“just tomatoes? are you sure? I can go pick out some basil—“

“no, no laurel will kill you if you do any more yard work! I can get it.” you hear conrad protest. the fisher family was used to your parents generosity, the beautiful vegetable garden grew right on the fisher/y/l/n house line, the family was more than welcome to eat and take whatever they wanted, but it didn’t stop them from being kind enough to ask. Susannah raised those boys right.

“are you sure?”

“what’s going on?” you ask, it’s like the words floated out of you when you saw him. his brown hair a little longer than normal, his t-shirt a bit smaller on him, and he’s wearing small navy blue swim trunks. a sight to make any girl swoon for a fisher.

“oh, y/n, do you think you can help conrad get some more tomatoes from the vines? it seems to be the fisher-Conklin clan has run out.” your mother hands you Susannah’s woven basket that conrad was once holding. your mother looks at you with pleading eyes but she knows you’ll do anything that has conrad fisher involved.

“happy to.” you take the basket in your hand and gesture for conrad to follow. he thanks your mother once again and follows along out the back door. you can hear not only just your heartbeat, but the blood rushing to your ears.

being alone with Conrad was sometimes awkward. at least to you it always felt that way, because you never knew how to be around him as yourself. you were so deeply in love with him that just being in his presence was enough to make you fumble over your words.

“here I can get the tomatoes.” conrad pushes past you, his shoulder brushing against your body, you could smell his cologne, the salty ocean in his hair, and the mixture of the laundry detergent Susannah uses. it was an intoxicating smell, one to make your world spin.

“you sure? they are kind of all over the place.” you chuckle setting the basket down into the grass. you start picking the beautiful blush red ones and gently place them in the basket along side the ones conrad was picking. every so often your hands would brush or you’d about pick the same tomato. you both would blush and apologize instantly for the connection.

“would you guys just kiss already! you’re making me nauseous.” Jeremiah calls over the fence line from the pool, he’s watched about every embarrassing second of you and his brothers interactions.

“come on, con!” Steven hollers, it’s loud enough for the neighbors on the other side of their house to snicker at the boys energy for far too early in the morning.

“I don’t know what their problem is.” Conrad says and it’s only for you two to hear. he’s picked up the basket from the grass now, you’re stuck with holding a few more tomatoes that he claims would be more than enough for everyone.

“no seriously, just keep those ones.”

“we have enough inside, just take them—“

“fine,” he huffs out an annoyed sigh and watches you dump them into the basket, “can I at least make you breakfast with them?”

“sounds like a plan to me.”

that day, he made you more than breakfast. he made you feel the most indescribable feeling of love and excitement. he left you walking home as beat red as those tomatoes you picked. you could thank Steven and Jeremiah for their pressure and tease, because conrad fisher did in fact kiss you that morning.

—

FUTURE

“I’m so happy for these guys because today I became twenty dollars richer,” Jeremiah pauses, the laughter of friends and family make you both blush, “so thank you Steven for believing they would never get married. here’s to the bride and the groom!” Jeremiah holds his champagne glass up, others in the room follow.

“you really bet we would get married?” Conrad turns to his brother who passes the microphone to belly before sitting down beside him.

Jeremiah’s hands clap his brothers shoulder, “we also made a bet that you’d kiss her that summer. belly also made a bet that you’d have tomatoes on the menu, looks like you guys are the most predictable couple ever.”

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hidtired · 24 days

Note

Hey, I love your stories for Daryl Dixon! If you wouldn’t mind I had a request? Daryl and reader have a pre established relationship (met at the querry, got together at the prison, got ‘married’ at some point) of a few years. During the line up, after Daryl hits Negan for killing Abraham, Negan can kind of figure out him and reader are together by matching wedding rings. To punish Daryl, negan can hang the reader until they ‘die’ (stop moving) and cuts her down. After Daryl is taken the group can realize, after being sad for a bit, that the reader is breathing and is alive and bring a her to hilltop. Negan could have put a bag over readers head or something before being hung so that once cut down its harder to tell she’s alive, and they could have even taken a picture of reader hung up to mess with Daryl in his cell. Dual POV. Extra extra angst, and happy ending/reunion when Daryl escapes please! If you could, could it be a few parts long? I understand if you can’t do that or even get to this request at all and that’s 100% okay! Anyways, love your story’s!

Someone cooked here... this is beautifully messed up. So right up my ally!

Hangman

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: Y/N Dixon was to be punished for her husbands actions at the line up. Negan decided to do it in style. To have a rope looped for your neck, intended for your death. Daryl watches you hang before being dragged away. But you had still been alive by the time you were cut down.

2.1k words

Warnings (Mentions of suicide, gore, ANGST, violence, injury, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You met Daryl and slowly fell in love with him. Most say they fell in love at first sight. But you? It was slowly then all at once. He was a gruff man, but under that was the most caring person you ever met. You had caught yourself thinking of him differently while on the road after the farm fell. You were friends at the farm, joking and teasing one another.

"You bein' sweet on me?"

You sniffle wiping a tear and punching him in the arm. He had gotten shot by Andrea and had fallin on a bolt while looking for Sophia. The punch hurt your redden knuckles. You had turned and laid Andrea out on the grass. Her cry's of "Did I kill him?!" Sent you to shut her mouth. Your lip wobble trying to not met him eye to eye. Daryl sighed, "Come on girl. No water works for me." He chuckled at the sight, amused to see you so worked up for his sake.

He learned you cared for him that day. He also learned how much he did when everyone was separated after the farm fell. He hugged you. More of shoved you into him practically about to lift you in the air.

“What? Getting sweet on me Dixon?”

It didn’t become romantic until the first night at the prison. Better know to Daryl as ‘THE kiss’. You had finally felt safe for the first time in a while, and you were thinking of him like crazy. So, when he was a little too close and looked down to your lips for a split second… you took action and ran with it. You had grabbed him with both hands and slowly lean into him. Didn’t last long, a peck— a test. He looked taken aback before it clicked and he was kissing you more. Now this moment was better known to you as ‘scarring T-dog’. He had gone to find both of you for dinner and found Daryl pinning you to a wall while making out.

The question of marriage wasn’t proposed as much talked about one late night months into the prisons development. You lay down legs tangled you smiling at him like a fool. The people of the prison loved Daryl. So when a new comer he saved reference to you as Mrs. Dixon it got you feeling a way. “M’ not sure I wanna ask what’s got you all giddy.” You rolled into him more, a dumb smile on your face, “You~”. He raised a brow at you. There were moments when you got all lovey, on him, normally when you were about to start your period. Or ovulating which was a different kind of lovey…

“What do you think about marriage?”

He was not expecting that. He froze thinking of his parents. “Never had a good example of it?” He just didn’t understand the purpose of it. What was to be married? More so with how the world is now. You lean your head against his chest, “I see it as just a promise. To promise myself to you.” He looked down to meet your eyes, “Thought ya were already mine?” You nodded with a smile, “Exactly, I’m already yours. But I would be caring your name as mine.” That is when it sank in, you a Dixon. The Dixons. Them. His hold on you became a little tighter. It would mean everything they already did. He knew the only death could part each other. Thats when you officially became his wife. Later with rings to match.

Till death do us part…

That lead you all to here and now. Face to face to death. Negan, finished with his brutal attack to Abraham. The remainder of what left of him desiccated. Negan swang the bloody bat splattering everyone with blood. His taunting made the hot head that is your husband try and attack him. He landed a crushing blow before getting pinned.

Your POV

It had happened so fast. Daryl was pinned with his own crossbow pointed at his head. The man holding it speaking, “I could end it right here.” You couldn’t even speak, you were shaking. Had a hand to your mouth trying to quiet your sobs. ‘Please don’t kill him… not him.’ Negan had noticed the ring on your finger and took a look to everyone’s face at that moment. He finally turned back to Daryl, “Nah, you don’t kill that. Not unless you try a little first.” A sick smile pulling his lips, “Put him back in line.” He eyed Daryl, “I don’t know what lying pricks you’ve been dealing with but I did say you only get one! No exceptions.” Negan leaned back before slowly turning to you and pointing, “Get her up.” You were swiftly pulled to your feet. Daryl’s voice booming in displeasure. Negan spoke again put to the group surrounding you, “We’ve never done this before! Simon… get the noose.” Some ooos rolled through the crowd.

Negan turned back to Rick. Daryl still wiggling free to help you. “See Rick I don’t like the look in your eye. Any of your eyes, you just don’t seem to get it!” It was Michonne voice urgent as she witnessed them set up the rope in a tree, “W-we get it. You don’t have to do that-“ Negans voice booming with amusement, “Oh I know you do but I did say no exceptions.” He turned his gaze to Daryl at the mention.

You were to be made as an example. To everyone but also for Daryl’s action. You couldn’t blame him for attacking him. He was a sick man doing horrendous things… and with a smile on top of it. You watched the rope go over a branch and someone put a wooden box down under the hanging rope.

You remember finding your Uncle hanging from a pipe in the garage. You were 8. The corners office stated he was hanging there for half a hour before he died, cause of death asphyxiation. The height he fell from didn't break his neck. The height of the box to the tree wasn’t high enough either.

Daryl was cursing and spitting threats as they dragged you to stand on the box. “I’LL KILL YOU, TOUCH HER AND I’LL KILL YOU!!!” But as the rope was looped around your head those threats turned to please, “No— PUNISH ME! IT WAS ME! NOT HER-“ He was crying and you looked on while he thrashed around. You smiled to him. You were scared sure, whether you were going to die fast or slow going through your mind.

Tears tracked down your face but you had stopped crying and had a look that could kill. Negan only seemed cheerful as always taking notice to your calming demeanor. You looked on to everyone on their knees as they stare at you with pure panic. You saw Rick’s hand shaking, mouth periodically opening to say something but he had nothing to say to get you out of this. Daryl had stopped thrashing and was looking to you with a face that pained you. He was pale from blood loss, eyes brimming with tears.

Your vision was blocked by a bag that was thrown over your head. You could slightly see through the fabric. Your heartbeat was in your ears. Negan had now come to stand next to you, “Now there is a new world order. You have shit I want so you give it to me or you could join— Hell her name?” You hear a savior state your name. “Ahh Y/N here… So let’s get this crystal clear for all of you now. You all belong to me.” He turned to you, “Any last words?”

You took a deep breath, “See you in hell.”

He chuckled. It was silent for a moment, air filled with anticipation. “Hope I don’t keep you waiting-“ He kicked that wooden box out from under you.

You felt gravity pulling you to the ground. Then the feeling of the rope tighten around your throat. Your ears picking up on the sounds of yelling and crying from your family. You had bobbed like a fish on a line. You put your hands to the rope on your neck. Struggling to breathe. Your body thrashing dangling from the tree. It wasn’t until you tilted your head back you got a little air. The noose didn’t seem to close all the way. Inside your mind yelled one thing, ‘go slack’. You slowly released your hands from the rope dangling with the rest of you. Soon after stopping any movement despite your body wanting to. You felt a pressure in the back of your eyes. The lack of sufficient oxygen making you feel like you were spinning. And the growing pain radiating around your neck was something you’ve never felt before. Like you were dying.

Negan had been talking throughout you struggling. But you hadn’t the mind to listen. It was Daryl’s sobs you recognized. He sounded like he was getting pulled away with the sounds of a heavy door slamming. A flash of light came through the bag on your head, click of a camera soon followed after. Negan talked again before you felt gravity pull you again. He had cut you down. You flopped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. You felt the wind get knocked out of you. Whatever wind you had left anyways. It took you a second before your first real breath came to you. But you try to remain still, to play possum.

You still remained there on the floor, yelling in your mind to stay awake. Coming up with anything to remain conscious like, math problems or names of your childhood pets. You had the feeling like you were on choppy water. Swaying back and forth on a boat. The deafening silence pulled you from your mind. Maybe you had died? But you decided you needed to move.

Group POV

Everyone was still after the saviors left. The first shuffling of gravel was Glenn moving to his wife after snapping out of the shock. His movement snapping everyone out of it to. Maggie clung to him while sobbing, emotionally and physically distressed. The sound of groaning and raspy noises made them all turn to you. It was Rick who spoke, “She turned…” You body propped up on hands and knees. They looked on before it was Carl moved to put you down, everyone else had even yet to move before him. Carl only got a few steps before you pulled the bag off your head.

Everyone froze again. Your fist clenching around the rope still around your neck. The chocking noises and tears sounds as you struggle with moving, “Holy shit she’s still alive!” Aaron had ran past Carl to then kneel beside you. Removing the rope from you revealed a line of black and purple around your neck. The rest had made their quick approach to you in disbelief. You were clawing at anyone next to you, you were in pain and didn't know who to act other then to wither. One hand still to your throat. Your eyes were blood red and the noise you made while attempting to breathe was high and liquidy.

Sasha had moved up behind you looping her arms behind yours, “Quick we need to get her to Hilltop! Maggie to!” Michonne moving for your legs to carry you to a truck the saviors left. Glenn helping Maggie into the passengers seat. Eugene began to list facts about being hanged like, 'it takes 10-20 minutes before a person died. You had been hung by a 'suspension hanging' but the height you fell from wasn't sufficient enough. The Saviors lack of knowledge had saved your life.' It was mostly a nervous habit to provide the information, a sort of coping. He was watching Rick and Aaron put Abraham's body in the back on the truck bed.

Maggie yelled to support your head to Sasha who you laid onto. You were still fighting unconscious, tears streaming down your red eyes. Glenn slipped into the drivers seat. Maggie speaking out the windows, "We got her. Get back to Alexandria. Plan to kick those monsters in the ass." Just like that they were off to hilltop.

The rest stood to see the car go off into the distance. Still shaken but the littlest bit more relieved you hadn't died in the worse way imageable in front of them. When they finally got back in the RV to go back home Rick just couldn't help but spot the noose on the ground from the review.

Daryl had no clue about you getting back up from that monstrous act.

Part 2

Feedback welcome and requests always open and encouraged!

(If you or a loved one are suffering and having thoughts of suicide please seek help. You are wanted and loved. Its cheesy but true when people say it gets better.)

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #norman reedus #twd daryl #angst #fluff

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urhoneycombwitch · 2 months

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foreword: typing this from my phone while blitzed sorry if this is messy. lol. based off of those Hoard pics of Joe Quinn. edible arms. u get it.

+18 mdni. husky!neighbor!Eddie x Reader

Cw: mutual masturbation, desc of Eddie’s larger weight (but purely in a fat-positive manner. big boys are hot period), soft!dom from both sides, R has breasts + a V and a lot of feminine nicknames are used.

Your surprise visit to Eddie’s apartment in the middle of the night has taken an awkward turn when, in the midst of your familiar barging in and subsequent ramble about the latest drama at your work, you realize Eddie is out of breath just from standing behind the counter.

“did I… interrupt something?” you ask, the beginning of a tease in your voice, squinting at the visible sheen on his skin (peeking out from a faded tee and sweatpants hung low on those plush hips. not that you were staring, per se...) “do you have a girl over?”

he rolls his eyes. “only girl over here is you, sweetheart.”

you lean into your forearms across the countertop, dropping to a joking, salacious whisper- “so you were jacking off, then?”

what you don’t expect is Eddie to scoff and blush, but that’s what he does: rosy pink tingeing his cheeks, eyes darting to the floor.

“oh my god.” you straighten, taking a step back, suddenly self-conscious. “you actually were? i- i was joking.”

Eddie shakes out of his embarrassment, trying to mollify you. “nah, don’t sweat it, angel. you couldn’t have known. maybe we just go our separate ways for tonight and-“

“I was gonna go home and do the same, actually,” you blurt out, feeling warm yourself.

that gets you his eyes, intense and suddenly focused on yours.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.” you take a step closer, rounding to his side of the counter. “I could… do it here. if you wanted.”

“holy shit,” Eddie murmurs, as you press against his front, his big arms automatically encircling your shoulders. “really?”

“where do you want me?”

“uhhh…” Eddie stalls for a moment then recovers. “the bed. my bed is good. let’s go in there.”

he leads you down the hall to his room, a bit of laundry hanging here and there but otherwise clean and lit by cozy lamplight.

“smells like boy in here.” you sigh happily with a gentle bounce onto the bed. you scoot towards the wall to make room on the bed for two, but when you look over, Eddie’s dragging a chair across the carpet to face you and sits in it.

“the hell are you doing?” you’re about to protest at the level of intimacy that you feel has ramped up in his favor, but Eddie just shrugs a shoulder.

“think of it this way, princess: you’ll get to watch me, too.”

his words stop you from complaining further. Eddie throws an arm over his shoulder to pull his t-shirt off, his guitar pick nestled just above the ornate crow tattoo covering his chest. staggering his feet on the ground, his thighs widen to show off the steadily-growing bulge in his sweats.

he’s fucking gorgeous. thick arms, a dark trail of hair smattering across the pudge of his stomach and dipping into his waistband. your mouth waters as you lie back on the pillows, wiggling out of your jeans and underwear without taking your eyes off of him.

Eddie palms himself through his pants, rings glinting in the low light.

when you spread yourself for him, the wet click of your stickiness between your fingers makes him moan.

“fuck yeah, sweetheart. touch that pretty clit for me.”

you obey, dipping your fingers down into the well of your wetness before rubbing circles against your bundle of nerves, hips bucking into your own touch.

“you can- ah- touch yourself, too.” your voice is strained but Eddie must’ve heard you; he wastes no time in pulling his sweats down around his balls, revealing a sizeable cock that drips precum steadily over his fist as he begins to stroke himself.

“fuck, Eddie,” you gasp, fingers working faster over your throbbing clit, other hand pawing at your nipples hardened through layers of fabric. “how’m I ever gonna take that?”

“we’ll work you up to it.”

that shouldn’t make you clench the way it does. “jesus, Eddie.”

there’s a slick noise with each of his movements, harsh slap of skin as he fucks into his own fist. “stick some fingers inside you, doll. how many can you take?”

the fingers on your clit stay but you slide your other hand to your mouth, sucking on the middle three before following them down the slope of your body to slowly push them into your gushing hole.

Eddie swears, hips snapping forward. “fuck yeah. just like that… be a good girl for me, curl ‘em up and fuck yourself.”

“wish it was you.” you’re letting the sound of Eddie’s fist set your own rhythm, eyes starting to roll back, wave of pleasure mounting. “wish it was your cock filling me up instead of my fingers…”

“next time,” Eddie says- and it’s the way he says is, all breathless assurance, that sends the wave crashing into you.

“fu-uuck…” the crown of your head tips back into the pillows, cunt clenching around your fingers as you come. through your own haze of peaking, you hear Eddie’s praises in rocky timbre.

“that’s it, baby. let it out. oh, fuck yes, you’re so hot- fuck, you’re gonna make me come-“

you open your eyes just in time to watch his shoulders curl in, ropes of cum shooting out of the ruddy head of his cock, painted against his chest and stomach, into the hair that’s fallen over his shoulders.

Eddie collapses back into his chair with a low-toned sigh, slack-jawed until you giggle him into speech again. “christ. that was incredible. goddamn. you're officially invited to interrupt my jacking off sessions any time, from now until the end of time."

#eddie munson x reader #e.m. thots from lu #eddie munson smut #husky!neighbor!Eddie #Hoard #joseph quinn #+18 mdni

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twst-rose-prisms · 2 months

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Hi! Can i ask for some preference for the twst boys? Like who would want a cute/naive s!o, who would want smart/ sexy s!o, silly/goofy one or something like that? Just the guys preference in s!o ? Thanks!

Hi hi~ First of all, I'm super sorry for not answering for a long long time cuz I was out of this blog and fandom 😭 If you're still active then this one is for you my amazing rosie! My first request ever so I'm still learning bu~t I tried my best! (shout out to my bestie for helping me a ton with this 🙏🙏) Btw I'm separating this into 3 parts so it won't be too long~

Twst boys preference for their partner

Characters: All NRC students (except Ortho) x Reader Genre: Fluff Reminder: This is just a headcanon post, so even if you aren't your loved one's preference, do not worry! Remember, love might have preference, but it's never the final thing that decides one's partner, so rest assured~ Your lovely twst boys love you no matter what 🌹❤️ Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon) | Part 3 (coming soon)

🌹 Riddle 🌹

- He would definitely like someone who is responsible and serious about their work just like himself. He admires it whenever they're strict to follow the rules and understand the importance of it like how he is as well. Seeing how diligent they are about their schoolwork would also earn a good impression from the housewarden himself, even better if they're a decently knowledgeable person. - Though he probably needs someone who's always there in his most tired, vulnerable moment too; someone who will comfort him, tell him that he did well, etc. just be there to whisper sweet words, like how hardworking he was on that day, he'll melt into their embrace almost immediately. Let him rest his head on your shoulder or chest, slowly drifting off from tiredness yet his face looks so peaceful and content... Your warmth and gentleness are something he definitely needs after everything that he endured and went through. Of course, those moments are rare since he need to put on a front being a honor student and a dorm leader, so be sure to stick by his side to catch it. - He needs a s/o who can tell him to get loose and take breaks occasionally too, due to how he always being strict on himself. Or whenever he gets angry, they'll be there to calm him down so he won't start an outburst knowing how easily angry he can get. - He isn't really keen on appearance too much, but he would prefer it if his s/o know how to dress properly and formally enough. He is a housewarden after all, so a partner that dress as good as him is enough for a great impression towards Riddle. No need for such things like super fancy make-up or expensive jewelries. - Bonus: if his s/o knows how to bake, surprise him his with favorite sweet strawberry tart occasionally! He'll be pretty flustered that they put so much love and effort into this beautiful tart and would just melt internally, and every bite would taste like heaven for sure 💖

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♥️ Ace ♥️

- He's definitely into people who know how to make jokes or have fun, it's one of the most important things to create impressions toward a guy like him after all! It never hurts to let loose and have fun once in a while y'know. - Though it doesn't have to be someone fun all the time, it could just be someone who could be able to keep up with his shenanigans most of the time or just know how to get loose instead of being uptight or serious. Of course, that doesn't mean letting this guy commit whatever horrible thing he's about to do, his s/o has an important mission and that is to stop him from getting scolded again by the teachers! - He's definitely an appearance type of guy, I mean, just guys being guys y'know; he's probably into cute, cheerful type or maybe a bit girly. But his s/o doesn't have to appear to his taste entirely, just someone being confident enough in their look also earns a point from him too! Giving him a big, goofy grin while making funny hand sings definitely would earn a laugh out of this guy for sure. - Because he's a rather mischievous type of guy, his s/o could be someone who can keep up with it. Or even better, being teasing or joking back at him, it would catch him off guard his s/o actually followed along and that would definitely want him to get their attention. The more unexpected they're around him, the more he would want their attention since he thought they're the most interesting person he has ever encountered! (He won't admit that it's because he falls for them though) - Bonus: One way to get his affection is to watch him playing basketball, like cheering him on or patiently waiting for the match to be over. Just imagine his reaction when you give him a cheerful grin and give him a cool drink as a way to tell him he did well! I'm sure you've earned a spot in his heart at that moment 💖

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♠️ Deuce ♠️

- Because he used to be a rumble delinquent, he probably needs a s/o that would accept his past and encourage him to not be scared, because they'll accept him for who he is no matter what, and that's what he's looking for the most in his partner because he too, want someone to tell him that it's okay to have a bad past, but what matter is how he is himself now and they love him for it~ - No matter how he acts, specifically, whenever he switches to his delinquent mode by accident in front of his s/o, he doesn't want you to be scared or avoid him because of it. That is the last thing he ever wanted - to hurt his partner. And if you saw his "bad boy" mode by accident, be sure to reassure him that you are totally alright with it and it won't drive you away! - He will admire a s/o who is diligent, smart and hardworking, since he is also a hardworking person after all. If his s/o is someone that shows their knowledge in a way that goes "Oh, I read this in a book that..." then our boy is gonna be super impressed! He loves it when you also talk about something you like too and share your knowledge with him, he'll always be ready to listen just to be impressed all over again like the first time. Since he's a slow learner, it would also be great if you could be patient and teach him things that he asks you, don't worry, he is very attentive, especially since it's you being his tutor after all. - He'll probably like it if his s/o is someone strong physically, even better if they don't appear like it; just imagine the astonished look on his face when he sees them easily carry heavy things despite their appearance! He'll be impressed but in another way (if you get what I mean...) - Bonus: If his s/o is someone who can take the lead or initiate a relationship then it's definitely something that will make him melt! Like just imagine if they kiss him or hold his hand suddenly, just being surprisingly affectionate and he'll become a blob! He might not admit it, but it's probably something that he's into, considering how easily flustered he can get when it comes to things like romance 💖

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♣️ Trey ♣️

- I think that out of all the twst characters, Trey is the most easy-going when it comes to partner preference. He's pretty open to any type of people so to him, preference isn't something that he keen on too much, also since he's taking care of everyone most of the time or being the older brother figure, you can expect him to be the perfect, caring boyfriend~ - Though I think he would have special feelings more towards people that are mature with a somewhat older siblings vibe that is capable of taking care of others just like him. He might not appear like it, but he would really appreciate it if he's the one receiving instead of the other way around once in a while, it's the most effective way towards his heart! - It doesn't have to be a s/o that's mature or has an older sibling vibe all the time, they can also just be someone really sweet and supportive. Actively helping him out in the kitchen or tagging along with him in school, that is enough to tell him how affectionate they are towards him, and he too, would be affectionate back towards them. - Perhaps it could also be a s/o that likes hearing jokes or easy-going like him too. Occasionally, he would joke around or make small teases, and if his s/o replied with a laugh or just showed how much they're having fun around him, he would feel really relieved that they love this side of him too, since not many people can take jokes well or sometimes they would even take it seriously. (Ex: the Walrus seal oyster sauce joke) - Bonus: If his s/o is someone who loves sweets then get ready for a gift full of sweetness (literally and figuratively) delivered to them almost everyday! Simply complimenting how delicious they're with a happy expression and that would be enough to earn a heart point from Trey! Even more if his s/o gives him something that they baked themselves as a gift, I'm sure he'll treasure every single little bite with how much effort they put into them 💖

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♦️ Cater ♦️

- Because he's a trendy, fun loving person, I think he would definitely like a s/o that is a fun fellow to be around him! Even better if they also like trendy things; just imagine you guys talking for hours and hours about the latest trends and how do you 2 can follow it, especially those couple trends on magicam. - But of course, it doesn't have to be someone with the same preference as him, it could just be someone chill and easygoing too. If his s/o is a curious, attentive person then he'll definitely love sharing his interests and all the latest trends if they ask him. They don't have to follow it, the way they give him a curious cute look while listening to him talking is already enough to show how much they care about him, and he would be so into them! - He's still overall a chill person that wanna take it easy, so he probably would like his s/o to be the same as him too. Sometimes, just a comfortable silence between the two of you would be enough as he scrolls through his phone casually, with your head on his shoulder or vice versa. - He might have a few preferences when it comes to appearance, such as a cute, trendy or confident s/o who knows how to style themselves. It's totally okay if they're someone more casual, but a well-dressed appearance is if not, a must if you want to impress him first hand. - Bonus: I think Cater is not a person who falls in love easily, but if his s/o tell him how much they love him with a genuine expression, eyes full of sincerity like they really, really mean it, then he'll fall more than just hard~ He probably received a lot of compliments before but none probably meant genuine for him, until he meets someone as amazing as you 💖

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🦁 Leona 🦁

- Oh, you're pretty daring enough if you wanna date someone like him. I mean, he's the housewarden of Savanaclaw we're talking about here, a real lion prince, if you managed to get his heart then I'd say you're already pretty great yourself! I mean, you already saw how others think of him with their tails in between their legs... - Though, if we're talking about preference, he would definitely like someone who won't be noisy and interrupt his precious napping time. Maybe someone that lets him lay down on their lap, stroking his hair or his fluffy ears while he's sleeping. He might deny it but those low purrs and growls are telling a whole different story. Sometimes he could also use them as a great pillow to hug too, with his head on your chest and arm wrapped around your frame, just be prepared for staying like that for the next 3 hours though... - He would find naive s/o interesting too, so easy to mess around and tease, their expression is truly entertaining to watch with the way their round eyes look astonished, then blush brightly from the way he tease them. Like a lion messing around with the little naive herbivore~ He could never get enough or tired of it. - Maybe he would also like a s/o that can be bold or challenging at the right time. Surprises are a welcoming thing, and Leona isn't an exception to it. A somewhat teasing, flirty relationship between you two would be entertaining and also something fun that he would seek for, he does like it when his "prey" fight back after all, though he'll just eat them up in the end like a lion he is. (interpret it as however you want...) - Bonus: One way to really catch the lion prince off-guard is outsmarting him. Pretty hard to do considering how Leona is, I know, but once your wits manage to catch him by the tail, he'll be pretty surprised his s/o is someone more than just his expectation. Maybe acting a little bit daring while we're at it, but I'm sure that he knows how special his s/o is and that no one else is like them 💖

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🐆 Ruggie 🐆

- I think for Ruggie, he probably would prefer a s/o that is smart and witty like him, maybe even better if they're street smart too as he'll be very impressed someone is the same as him. After all, people who have great practical skills can't be someone lazy from a spoiled, rich family right? Don't get him wrong, he didn't mean bad things, but it's just so because he grew up in such an environment, you couldn't blame him for thinking like that. - Though of course, it doesn't have to be someone like him, it could just be a s/o that likes to take care of others or be very supportive too. They can help him out with his errands; expect him to ask if you want anything in return though, since it has been his mindset for a long time now. But hey, if you help him enough in a sincere way without asking for something else, he might start to open his heart to you a bit and trust you more...? Everything takes time including love after all, so be patient~ - Another preference he would like maybe a somewhat naive s/o. Teasing them is nothing but fun for a cunning hyena like him. I mean, he could also use this chance to impress him with his skills in a way too, their face is just so entertaining to watch, but he probably warns them to be careful or bad people gonna get to them easily~ (ex: Ruggie himself) - Because Ruggie grew up really poor, he is someone who treasures and treats food way more important than normal people would, so if his s/o is someone who knows how to cook then he'd feel like he just stepped into heaven~ I mean, just imagine the happy but surprised face when they feed him such luxurious handmade food that they put so much love into, he feels like he's eating a buffet! His s/o could also make lunch for him daily as well, you two could share together as you feed him your homemade food, and his round ears would twitch in happiness for sure. - Bonus: Something sweet, surprising and genuine would be the best way to get his heart. For example, a bag full of warm, fluffy donuts would do! He loves those sweet treats a lot, so if you have free time be sure to bake some for him alright? As there's a phrase goes "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach" after all 💖

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🐺 Jack 🐺

- He would like someone very responsible about themselves and take their work seriously and fairly with no underhanded methods or cheating. Seeing how diligent they are, he definitely would think his s/o is a great and respectful person to be with. I think if they recognize him and compliment him back, that will get him flustered too, though he might deny it with a grumpy expression. (He's just being a bit of a "tsundere" as you call it) - Someone with a moral worthy of his respect is also one of his preferences too. Do try to not misunderstand his coldness, he's a real softie deep down, so if you act kind towards him with no ill intent whatsoever, he'll quickly understand what kind of a person you are and won't be cold towards you much the more you two hanging out... and maybe it'll turn into something more precious than just friendship~ - Once you earn his respect, he'll become your biggest protector that you can imagine. Nobody will dare to mess around with you once you have a giant bodyguard like him tagging along. If his s/o is a bit of a tease and affectionate person, remember to thank him with small pecks on the cheek or a hug, our wolf boy would be pretty flustered with a wagging tail! Speaking of that, he wouldn't mind a bit of a tease too since I think he would like it. (Although he'll deny it again or so) - He isn't an appearance type of person, but if his s/o is someone smaller or shorter than him then his protecting instinct would happen more often. Also, it's cute when your smaller frame tries to wrap both arms around his bigger one, he would unconsciously feel flustered but also found it a bit cute. - Bonus: While it might sound a bit rude to him... or not, but I think if his s/o treats him like he's a big, cuddly and fluffy dog he would get super flustered. Like imagine you give him a big, cute grin while petting his big ears or his super poofy fluffy tail, oh the wolf boy would be so "tsun" about it. His s/o is the only one who can touch his tail or brush it! It's also a way to show affection towards a big wolf like him too, so don't hold back 💖

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To be continued! Stay tuned for part 2~

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twst wonderland #twst #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #jack howl x reader #twst fluff #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland

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ellemj · 5 months

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Letters to Santa, Part 1: 12 Days of Smut #11

Bucky Barnes x Reader 2-Part Fic

Request/prompt courtesy of @stuckysbike:

Warnings: profanity, mentions of orgasms, allusions to smut, dirty letter writing, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I wasn't planning to do any sort of multi-part stuff for this 12 Days of Smut thing, I wanted to churn out a bunch of smutty one-shots so you guys could have a lil Christmas meal every day. But when I started writing this today I kinda fell in love with the last couple of paragraphs and it felt so RIGHT leaving it the way I did. So, it looks like you guys will be getting part 2 of this tomorrow which will be s m u t t y and also a separate smut #12 tomorrow. Thanks to @stuckysbike for this amazing prompt that I’ve been thinking about for DAYS now.

Dear Santa,

All I want for Christmas is any one of the following, you can pick for me because I’m a little indecisive:

someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present

someone to give me a Christmas miracle (three orgasms in one night, if that’s not too much to ask)

someone to cum down my chimney

With love,

Y/n

“Oh my god, this is perfect!” Natasha laughs out the words as she waves your letter around in the air. “We have to mail this. I need someone to find the address for the North Pole.”

“Come on, Nat. Santa’s already put me on his naughty list. I’m not getting anything this year.” You say with a pout, pushing your bottom lip out.

“It’s true, I saw her submit a half-finished mission report last week.” Wanda points out. You roll your eyes before leaning back on the couch and raising your nearly empty beer bottle to your lips. You take a long sip as Nat, Wanda, and Sharon continue reading each other’s dirty letters to Santa and teasing each other. You’re enjoying sitting through the fun of girls night like you do every Friday night, until you hear the elevator ding across the room. Just as you turn your head to see who it’s carried upstairs, the doors slide open to reveal Sam and Bucky. Sam opens his arms wide upon seeing the four of you piled together on the couch, clearly loving that he’s just stumbled into his first girls night.

“Is this what I think it is?” He asks excitedly, quickly making his way over to the couch and seating himself on the end of the sectional.

“A bunch of girls writing dirty letters to Santa? Yes.” Sharon reveals all. You shoot her a faux-angry glare.

“Sharon, he’s a guy. You’re not supposed to tell him anything about girl’s night.” Wanda reprimands her jokingly. Sharon lifts her hands in surrender.

“Hey, this is the first one I’ve been invited to, no one told me the rules. I’m also a little drunk, it’s not my fault.”

Your eyes snap back over to Sam just in time to see him peering over Nat’s shoulder, trying to get a look at your very own dirty letter to Santa. You’re quick to scramble to your feet and snatch the piece of paper from Nat’s hand, narrowing your eyes at Sam.

“If you don’t have a sled and…eight…no, nine reindeer, then this isn’t for you.” You say coldly, carefully folding the letter and setting it on the coffee table that’s littered with pens, beer bottles, and various snacks.

“I could have a sled.” Sam offers, eyeing where your letter now sits.

“You have wings, it’s not the same.” Sharon quips. As everyone continues to joke and tease each other around the coffee table, you’re sitting back and enjoying the nice buzz you feel from the alcohol you’ve consumed so far tonight. After another minute of listening to your friends have the time of their lives, you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched. You let your eyes float around from Wanda to Nat, then to Sam at the end of the couch, and then to Sharon. No one’s looking at you. That’s when you remember the silent sixth person in the room. You turn your head and look over your shoulder, finding Bucky standing in the kitchen, sipping from his own bottle of beer as he stares right at you. Any other person caught staring would look away. That’s the normal thing to do, right? But Bucky has never looked away, of all of the times you’ve caught him staring. Maybe it’s an alpha male type of behavior you could learn about on Animal planet, hell if you know, but whatever it is Bucky has it bad. Sam jokingly refers to him as the bionic staring machine and you’ve never heard anything more accurate. However, you’ve noticed lately that Bucky stares at you a hell of a lot more than he stares at anyone else. Is it wishful thinking? Maybe. You have no problem admitting that the man is annoyingly attractive, and the fact that he tends to be so quiet and elusive only adds to the attraction. Like they say, a crush is just a lack of information. If Bucky talked more, you’d easily lose your attraction to him. You’re sure of that.

You’re lightly engaging in the conversation with Sam and the girls again, but you can still feel Bucky’s gaze burning a hole in the back of your head as you speak. When he finally silently slips out of the kitchen and disappears down the hallway that leads to everyone’s rooms, you’re relieved. You don’t know why you always find it so hard to relax around him. He puts you on edge for a reason you’ll never understand.

“Okay, I think it’s time for everyone to get to bed. We have a full day tomorrow with baking Christmas cookies, the gingerbread house contest, and the Christmas dinner.” Wanda reminds everyone. She’s the first one to rise from the couch, gathering up the pens and blank pieces of paper to put them away. You’re quick to start collecting the empty beer bottles from the coffee table, trying to do your part. You’re so preoccupied with straightening up the small mess you all left in the kitchen that you don’t even notice Natasha tucking your dirty letter to Santa into the waistband of her pants. In fact, the dirty letter doesn’t even cross your mind as you finish up in the kitchen and head to your room for the night.

Natasha thinks of herself as a matchmaker of sorts, or at least someone who’s good at reading chemistry between people. She might not know enough to say that two people are destined to marry and have a bunch of kids together, but she knows when two people would have a good physical relationship. That particular skill of hers is what leads her not only to steal your dirty letter to Santa, but to slide it under Bucky’s door as she passes his room to get to her own a little while later. What a devious Black Widow your best friend is.

---

Someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. Someone to give me a Christmas miracle of three orgasms in one night. Someone to cum down my chimney.

Bucky has read the letter a total of four times, each time making his dick a little harder and his chest rise and fall a little faster. He stares at the bottom of the page where you so neatly signed your name. It’s the dirty letter you wrote just earlier during girls night. Bucky isn’t even questioning the fact that this is how the four of you chose to spend your evening. His only question is how and why your letter ended up sitting on the floor right inside of his door after he finished showering. Did you slide it under there yourself? Did someone else do it? Are you expecting him to give you one of these gifts?

He sits on the side of his bed still staring down at the piece of paper in his hand, but he’s not reading it anymore. He’s thinking back to every single interaction he’s ever had with you, from the most minor to the most memorable. Hell, they’ve all been memorable. Every lingering look, every seemingly accidental touch of your thigh against his when you’re in the quinjet or in the conference room for a briefing, every damn word you’ve ever said to him. There’s always been some kind of a spark between the two of you, a clear sexual tension that was begging to be broken, but neither of you ever did a thing about it. So, why now is Bucky thinking about doing something about it? If you slipped the letter under his door, then it’s obviously something you want him to do. You gave him a fucking menu of choices. But if you didn’t slip it under the door, then who else has noticed the sexual tension between you two and decided that it was their job to remedy it?

Someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. Someone to give me a Christmas miracle of three orgasms in one night. Someone to cum down my chimney.

Bucky folds the piece of paper into a small rectangle before placing it in the top drawer of his nightstand and taking a deep breath in.

All of the above. That’s what he chooses for you.

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#bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier #12 days of smut

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rubra-wav · 3 months

Note

Hello! I saw asks were open and I wanted to drop a request! What if Husk, Angeldust, and Alastor (separate) had a s/o who revealed that they could break deals on their (the collared's) end given some time?

Husk, Angel Dust and Alastor with a Dealbreaker S/O

[Part 2]

A/N: Alastor's is written as purely platonic tho per my personal boundaries

My Hazbin OC actually is a powerful Dealbreaker, so I'm going off of the lore I've thought up on this topic for him haha

I will maybe write a part 2 where reader actually manages to break the contracts rather than just saying they could.

CW: Sfw, angsty asf in places, reference to addiction, mention/reference to violence, Angel's touches a bit more on abuse response/trauma response type stuff, body/ horror imagery in Alastor's (Alastor being the creature he is basically)

Husk

- Husk would not believe you at all at first.

- He would be tending the bar and then stop mid-drying a glass as a heartbreaking hint of hope (the first hope he'd felt in centuries) passes over his face for a second before crumpling and turning to extreme bitterness.

- "That's not funny." He'd growl through grit teeth at you, thinking it was some kind of cruel joke.

- When reassured that you are absolutely serious, he gives you more of a look of almost pity, sighing as if deeply tired.

- He tells you that multiple people have told him the same thing over the years, and that they have all failed just the same.

- All skilled people who were known to be able to break even soul ownership deals wide open.

- The leash Alastor had on him was air-tight.

- He basically tells you it would be a giant waste of time and that you should give up and focus your time on something better then a poor old sinner like himself.

- When you don't back down from the discouragement, he sighs again, but feels warmth burning in his chest at the fact you wanted to help him so badly.

- He's not hopeful, but he wants to have faith in you even if he's trying to discourage you and scare you straight as much as possible.

- He wants so badly to be free so he can be with you without any limits of his commitment to you and only you. To not have to think about whether he's going to be summoned to some bullshit getup again whenever Alastor gets bored of the Hazbin Hotel.

- Deep down he's absolutely desperate for you to succeed in your mission.

- He wants the catalyst for his alcohol problem to go away so he can live and finally actually be happy without the heaviness of his deal weighing on him at all times, making him desperately need the escape.

- He absolutely will tell you very very seriously to not to let this slip that you're doing this to anybody though - or talk about this in a place you aren't absolutely confident doesn't have any certain member of the hotel listening in.

- Husk doesn't think that Alastor would harm you physically over this, that asshole would probably just find it amusing. However.

- Husk's worst fear would be you trying to get him his soul back by signing away yours, something very possible Alastor would offer as a trick.

- He'd be skeptical, fearful of you succumbing to a deal with Alastor, and not very hopeful at all as he's tried time and time again to break the contract on his soul. You are so... optimistic that you'll find a way, but again, his collar is air-tight. You'll have your work cut out for you breaking the deal of someone who's notoriously a dealmaker.

Angel Dust

- When you tell him that, he tenses up with a sharp inhale of breath, a complete 180 from how he just was seconds before, winding down from his night in his hotel room with you.

- Angel's deal would be logically way more easier to break. However, what Valentino's deal doesn't directly hold of Angel, the moth's manipulation keeps him stuck imprisoned under him.

- Angel absolutely would have thought of contacting a dealbreaker, however never actually would due to how terrified he is. If it turned out one of those people were a mole for Val trying to catch him out, Angel would be in so much pain from the punishment that that would entail. You cannot trust someone claiming to be a dealbreaker in hell isn't lying to you through their teeth.

- When he realises you are absolutely serious though, and obviously confident in your abilities, a myriad of harsh emotions pass across Angel's face. Fear (for both his and your safety), and hope made themselves the most apparent.

- Fear of what Val would do to him if he ever found out about this conversation. What he'd do to you.

- Valentino was certainly not above hurting people to get his way. Angel knew that better then anybody. But if Val ever caught wind that Angel's secret lover behind the scenes was trying to steal away Val's biggest money maker and favourite toy, he'd kill you. Straight up.

- That fear was there and was deeply terrifying to him. But so was the hope. A flurry of hope that fills him with relief and brings tears pricking at his eyes at the idea that he could actually be free of his captor and go do whatever you two decide and be fully happy without fear of Val.

- Live with you not as Angel Dust, but as Anthony. Completely his real, authentic self.

- "How." He whispers breathlessly.

- You tell him that you need to see the contract itself, analyse all the ins and outs and come up with a counter-contract.

- There would be a few ways you could actually break the deal from there, and although they would be time consuming and possibly (very much probably) dangerous, you were confident you could break him out.

- Angel would be extremely fearful, but also hopeful. You seem confident in your ability as his contract is messy and poorly crafted. He's reassured as you say that what's mostly chaining him down is the psychological control Val has over him.

Alastor

- When you tell Alastor this, I feel he could respond two ways depending on how you've learnt that information.

If he hasn't told you himself:

- If he hasn't told you this or doesn't know how you've found out, he's going to be absolutely pissed. At you and probably Husk (assuming Husk told you)

- He'd turn towards you with jerky, unnatural movements, bones and joints cracking loudly in a cringe worthy way. Overhead, the lights would be flickering as static begins to fill your head.

- Towering over you, he'd be still bent in that weird position as he grips sharpened claws into your shoulders. Your friendship is the only thing keeping him from making you nothing more then a stain on the wall.

- "Who told you about that."

- When you tell how you've found out, he likely let's out a chuckle dripping with anger that makes you want to cover your ears as the sound scrapes into them. "And what makes you think you could do what even I cannot?"

- He has analysed every single last clause, letter, meaning of the words used, every possible loophole in his contract to the point it's driven him to have multiple psychological breakdowns. To him there is no doubt in his mind at all that he's completely fucked by the contract he was tricked into and there's no chance in hell that you would ever be able to even assist.

- When you push and say that you want to do this for him, he's not even a little flattered at all, in fact, it bruises his ego massively that you'd have the audacity to confidently imply you could do what he's worked so hard to for 7 years.

- In instance one, he's incredibly pissed off at you for claiming you could ever undo his contract after learning about it from someone other then him, so angry he almost kills you. Leaves you alone shaking and afraid in the hall telling you not to say anything to anybody else about his deal, and to never so flagrantly exaggerate your own worth so massively again. Your prior confidence stamped down to embers.

If you are close enough of a person to him that he's confided in you about his collar however:

- He'd just chuckle, calling it cute that you thought you could do that while walking away.

- You miss the way his eye twitches.

- He'd still be incredibly angry about it, but due to not being surprised you knew of his biggest secret, he'd hide it much better.

- Continues to laugh when you insist you can do it, and would passive aggressively respond about how you should not overestimate your abilities and mind your own business essentially.

- Again, he's pissed off and his ego is bruised about it. But this time, he's hiding it behind his smile and is passive aggressive as fuck about it rather then outwardly aggressive. He won't let you know how much you've actually gotten to him even though he would have let his walls down to some extent to ever tell you that.

A/N I was actually already planning a fully written x reader fic that's not just the dot points with Angel at some point where reader saves him from his contract, so like... Maybe I'll do full fics for dealbreaking Husk and Alastor's contracts as well because I'm kind of interested in exploring a fic w them after writing this now

(I'm probably gonna say this then eat shit via the universe straight after lmfao 💀)

#hazbin hotel #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #this was actually so cool to write thank you for requesting this one

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thedroneranger · 5 months

Text

Dine Out

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Synopsis: Mrs. Seresin packs a special surprise for Jake's first day as Lieutenant Commander.

Notes: Part of the To-do List collection.

Warnings: 18+ only; smut.

Word count: 2.6k.

Busy making sure all his pins were absolutely straight, he didn’t notice as she snuck up behind him. She felt his shoulders drop as she wrapped her arms around his waist and forced herself underneath his arm.

That radiant smile appeared as he accepted her by his side. “Good morning.” Her voice was still thick with sleep, which made Jake immediately picture her wrapped in their sheets.

“Mornin’, baby.” He kissed the top of her head and she leaned into his side. She watched him in the mirror. It was a rare time she got to see his candid expression as he looked at her and paid no attention to the mirror. She then looked up at him and they exchanged smiles. He pressed a kiss to her lips.

She slipped out from under his arm, breaking the lip-lock, and stood between him and the mirror. She inspected his uniform, making sure it was wrinkle free, pins straight, collar flat.

Jake took a deep breath, looking past her into the mirror. She returned to his side and also gazed in the mirror. “I didn’t think a couple extra pins could make you hotter.” She kissed his bicep as she leaned into his arm.

He cracked a smile and leaned down. “That’s called a rank kink, honey,” he explained before again pressing his lips to hers. She gripped his arm tighter so he couldn’t break the kiss. Jake melted into her but they both pulled away, suddenly realizing they had no idea of the time.

“I’m going to make your lunch. Can’t have you late for your first day.” She untangled herself and let her hand trail down his arm to his palm. She squeezed it before stepping away. Jake sighed longingly as he watched the bottoms of her ass cheeks jiggle as she walked.

She was wearing one of her own crewneck t-shirts, which wasn’t quite long enough to cover her backside. He liked the view but also liked when she wore his shirts. They were oversized, so she didn’t bother with underwear. Given her shirt also didn’t cover her crotch, she was wearing a lacy thong—just enough fabric to be considered underwear.

By the time Jake came downstairs, his lunch and coffee were waiting on the counter, and she’d ventured into the laundry room to fold clothes. Jake peeked around the counter to find her softly singing along to the playlist she selected while she folded his shirts. She also had changed into workout gear, ready to hit the gym after Jake left.

Jake’s fingers grazed her hip as he stood behind her. She turned her head to meet his lips as he pressed his front to her back. “Mhmm, have a good day,” she said.

“You, too.” He gave her one more kiss before separating from her. She playfully snapped the shirt she was about to fold, striking his ass. She knew it stung—the snap was loud and he stopped in his tracks. Her lip was between her teeth and mischief in her eyes as he turned to meet her gaze with feigned annoyance.

“Bye!” She quickly became interested in the creases as she folded the shirt.

Day 1 was going well. Jake led his first briefing, which went without a hitch. He was glad his squadron respected him enough not to heckle him, especially on his first day as a lieutenant commander.

He was glad when lunchtime came so he could take 30 minutes to joke around with the squad. Jake definitely needed to ease into his new leadership role. Going from a co-worker to a superior would be an adjustment that took time.

Jake already knew his lunch was leftover carbonara. His mouth watered as he thought about the handmade pasta he was about to eat. Unzipping his lunch bag, he froze. Jake blinked and closed the lid. After a few seconds, he reopened it. His eyes did not deceive him. Atop the Tupperware lie the lacy panties Mrs. Seresin was wearing this morning.

He didn’t dare take them out. In slight duress, he almost missed the note. He plucked it out of the bag to read it.

Your office. Noon.

Shit. It was 12:05. Jake damn near fell out of his seat as he gathered his things and sprinted walked with purpose to his office. When he reached the door, he took a minute to collect himself. With a deep breath, he twisted the knob and slipped inside.

Jake was met with red bottoms kicked up on the corner of his desk. Mrs. Seresin had made herself at home, reading the contents of one of the folders neatly stacked beside the blotter. She dropped it to look at him. He locked the door as they stared at each other.

“Missing something?” Her panties dangled from his finger. A smile graced her lips as she dropped her feet to the floor and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the oak desktop.

Jake was a simple man, and his eyes sank to the neckline of her shirt. He couldn’t see the entire outfit, but he knew exactly which one she was wearing. One of his favorites, a pencil skirt with a structured button-down.

The first time he saw her in this outfit, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Since then, she’d worn it a handful of times to fulfill Jake’s librarian fantasies.

“I thought you might want a treat for lunch on your first day,” she replied. Eyes still on Jake, she pushed herself out of his chair and walked around the desk. She leaned against the front edge and began to undo the rest of the buttons on her blouse. “Lieutenant Commander.”

Fuck, his new title sounded even better when it came out of her mouth. Jake’s cock twitched. He began to walk toward her. She stood to her full height as she pulled the tails of her shirt from her high-waisted skirt. Even in heels, their height difference required her to tilt her head back to meet Jake’s gaze.

“Sometimes I worry these encounters are just really, really vivid dreams.” The hint of his accent, always thicker when he’s horny, sent shivers down her spine. Jake leaned down and pressed a kiss to the hinge of her jaw, and then the side of her neck. She shimmied her shirt to her elbows to expose her shoulders. Jake took advantage of the visible skin, kissing her shoulder caps.

He dropped her panties beside her on the desk. “Turn around.” Jake’s voice was soft yet stern. He had pulled away just enough that they could exchange glances as she made a show of facing the desk. Jake took her shirt as though he were helping her out of a jacket and tossed it onto his desk chair.

As she planted her palms on the hardwood, she was sure to shift her hips so her backside grazed Jake’s crotch. He pressed his full body against her as he leaned over top of her. He placed a kiss to her hairline, followed by another on her temple.

Meanwhile, his hands traveled down her sides and along her hips. Finally, his fingers came to the zipper on the side of her skirt. Slowly, he pulled it as he continued to pepper her with kisses.

Mrs. Seresin didn’t realize she had been holding her breath. A gasp escaped her when Jake yanked the fabric and it pooled around her ankles. She felt the smirk on Jake’s lips as he kissed her jaw one more time.

She bit her lip in anticipation as Jake sank to his knees behind her. He smirked when her tiny “good girl” tattoo appeared. His thumb swiped over it as he knelt down. He tapped each of her ankles for her to lift her feet so he could completely discard her skirt.

“Wider,” he directed. She compiled, sliding her feet further apart. Softly, he wrapped his hands around her calves and slid them up the backs of her legs to her ass. She bit back moans as Jake left wet kisses along the same path.

She whimpered as his index finger skimmed between her folds. “Awe, baby,” he cooed. “You’re so wet for your Lieutenant Commander,” he said. Jake ran his fingers along each lip, spreading her arousal. Then he quickly swiped a digit from her clit to her entrance. She shuttered, her knees giving slightly. Jake smirked.

“I don’t want to rush you, but lunchtime is going to be done by the time you dive in,” she said over her shoulder.

An open palm met her ass cheek. She bit her lip and dipped her head to remain silent. “Lunch ends when I say it does.” Mrs. Seresin felt the heat in her low belly build just from the tone of his voice.

Jake lovingly bit the round of her ass before he sank his face between her folds. He laved her clit and dipped his tongue into her. She gasped and shifted to her elbows, allowing him better access.

Spreading her and holding her open with the pads of his thumbs, Jake continued to lap her core, alternating between dipping his tongue into her and licking her bundle of nerves. She did her best to stifle her moans. His fingers replaced his mouth as he spoke. “If you don’t be quiet, those panties are going to end up in your mouth,” Jake warned.

Without warning, Jake’s palm met her ass again. She bit her lip to keep quiet, and Jake smirked as he felt her clench around his fingers. He sank his teeth into her ass cheek as he continued to pump his fingers.

She bounced her hips, falling in sync with him. “That’s it,” he commended. Jake got to his feet, and as quick as possible, he undid his pants and lowered them just enough to expose himself.

Mrs. Seresin let herself melt onto his desk, cheek and chest flush against it, as Jake slid into her. He ran a hand along the exposed section of her spine until his fingers were at the nape of her neck. She enjoyed the light pressure. Jake listened to her practically purring as he languidly pumped. Each snap of his hips drove hers into the edge of the desk.

Then his hand moved to her arm, skimming along the limb until his fingers entwined with hers. She pulled their hands so they were tucked against her body. Jake trailed wet kisses along her shoulders and neck, while he fed her praises.

Her eyes squeezed shut as her orgasm built. She was so close. So close, but she wanted it a little rougher. Before she realized what she was saying, she was mid-sentence. “Is that all you got, Lieutenant Commander?”

Jake smirked. He untwined his hand from hers and placed it back at the nape of her neck, pressing her harder onto the desk. “I’ve got whatever you want, baby.” She bit back a whine each time his hips snapped into her. Jake was doing his best to hold out until she came, but every time she clenched around him, his resolve melted a little.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath as she squeezed him again. A thought popped into his mind. “Knee.” Knowingly, Mrs. Seresin hiked her knee onto the desk, and Jake pinned it there with his arm.

He hissed, enjoying the new angle, and Mrs. Seresin was biting her lip so hard she was shocked she hadn’t drawn blood. However, she was successful in remaining silent as Jake continued to pound into her.

This was it. Jake's release imminent, he moved his hand from her neck to her clit. The rough feeling of his fingers helped push her over the edge. Jake let himself go, so they came close together. She released her lip as Jake’s motions slowed to a halt. His cock pulsed a few more times.

His body came to rest over hers. She could feel his pins digging into her back—it made her smile. After a few minutes of postcotial bliss, Jake’s body heat disappeared. Mrs. Seresin moaned as he helped her get up.

Once his clothes were back on and in order, he helped her dress. She was buttoning her shirt when he grabbed her panties from the desk. “I want you to wear these home.” He knelt and held them out.

A hand on his shoulder she put a foot through each leg hole. Then Jake pulled them up as he stood. He held her by the waist for a lingering kiss. She pulled away before it could become more. She smiled at him as she picked up her skirt and put it back, completing her outfit.

“Did you enjoy lunch, Lieutenant Commander?” She winked at him. He extended a hand, which she took it and allowed him to pull her back into a hug.

“I did.” He pecked her lips. “We may have to make it a regular thing.”

She pretended to mull it over. “I’m sure I can pencil you in.” They both smiled, and he kissed her again.

They both froze as the doorknob jiggled, followed by a sharp knock. Jake quickly unlocked and opened the door. Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson breezed in.

“Admiral.” Jake stood at attention.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Mrs. Seresin. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Seresin.” Cyclone’s voice was surprised. Also airer, and much softer, than when he spoke to anyone in uniform.

“Good afternoon, Admiral,” she responded.

“What brings you to base?” He squared himself to her, taking full interest.

She smiled. “I wanted to see the Lieutenant Commander’s new digs and assess what we could do to spruce it up a bit.”

“Mhmm,” he responded. An idea clearly percolating. “Next time you're at North Island, I should have you look at my office. It’s a little stale.”

“I’d love to, Admiral.” She gave him a sweet smile. “Well, I should let you two get to work.” Mrs. Seresin closed the gap between her and Jake. She pecked his cheek. “I’ll see you both for dinner tonight?” The men nodded. “Great! I’m making short rib lasagna,” she noted as she segued to the door.

Cyclone winked at her, thanking her for the heads up about the menu. It’d make pairing a wine much easier.

He and Jake had always gotten along and grew to be friends. Each time he came to Lemoore, they were sure to invite the Admiral over for dinner.

Jake excused himself to walk his wife to her vehicle. “Smooth exit,” she whispered as they walked.

“Thank god you’re a charmer.” He gently squeezed her ass.

“Jake!” She stumbled a bit. However, Jake was right behind her to keep her from falling. He put a hand on her waist to steady her and placed a kiss on her cheek from behind.

They walked the rest of the way to the vehicle in silence. “Thank you.” She turned as they approached the driver’s side. She gave him one more kiss, and he opened the door for her to slide into her seat. He then shut it as she started the engine. He shook his head as he watched her drive away.

On the walk back to his office, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened his calendar. A month from today, he added an event, made it recurring, and sent the invite.

After Admiral Simpson had left his office, Jake was alone, sifting through paperwork. He looked over when his phone lit up with a notification. He smirked as he read accepted next to her name. Their next lunch date couldn’t come soon enough.

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