#(….anyway how’s y’all’s nights going lol)

[metallatch]

i’m loving the Old Gay Men In Love rep. I really am.

but can we get well written Old Gay Women In Love characters, too?

[francy-sketches]

Look I love alicent she’s my meow meow but why are some of her stans so against her being compared to cersei they just objectively share similarities it’s not an insult to her I prommy. Like seeing them get upset at the comparison between the eye funni in hotd and the trident oopsie in got is just. Girl calm down nobody’s saying they’re the exact same but the pararell is so obvious lmao. Not everything is an attack on your fave hotd twitter is rotting your brain please go oustide we’re worried about you

[heart4gyu]

wet dreamz || sim jaeyun x reader

note: 18+ mdni!! y’all know the song lol changed it up a lil for the story tho :P this turned out longer than i expected and maybe needs a part two (??? lmk) also this is my first time writing full smut so i hope it’s not too bad and that y’all enjoy anyway okayy gn :3 not proofread sorry!! | pt.2 here |

this had honestly never happened to jake before; waking up in his bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked.

he just couldn’t help it though.

you hadn’t even noticed him before you got partnered up for a project. but him? oh, his eyes were on you the second you walked through that door on the first day of class.

how pretty you looked laughing with your friends. the sweet smell of your perfume as you walked past. the way you always got the answers right when you got called on. it started off so innocent, just a little campus crush.

after you became partners, everything changed though. the project went perfectly, of course, with both of you acing the class it was easy. but after it was over, you didn’t go back to sitting with your friends like jake thought you would. you stayed there, right next to him, every day.

you became friends. you exchanged phone numbers and you hung out quite often in the library or student center. the more time you spent together, the more jake’s want for you grew.

jake just didn’t understand how you could be so effortlessly perfect for him though.

you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing. you’d observed jake long enough to know that he’s probably never made it past second base with a girl.

the way he’d turn red when you’d scoot over touching your thighs to his. the way his mouth went dry when you’d lean over his desk in a very low cut shirt. even the way he’d stare at your lips after you applied your lip gloss.

all the things you purposefully did to get his attention. because obviously how could you not go after him, he was just your type. sweet, nerdy guy who was also extremely hot.

and so far, you were doing an excellent job at it. but you were getting a little impatient with him, so you decided to tell him about this loser guy who took you out the other day. and fuck it, you decided to slip it into the conversation that he couldn’t even make you finish.

you smiled when the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. how cute.

jakeyjakey: don’t let someone like that take you out again.

you: ikr. need to find someone who can get the job done…

jakeyjakey: if you gave me the chance y/n, i’d show you a great time.

it definitely wasn’t expected but who were you to complain when this is exactly what you wanted. so you let him know that your roommate would be gone visiting family this weekend & that maybe he should come over…

so he went to bed that night, thinking about the weekend coming up. thinking about you.

and he had a sweet, sweet dream. it was so realistic too. the way your pillows smelled like you as he laid back on them with you on his lap. how soft your thighs were as his fingers grazed over them. your eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, and your voice so quiet he could barely hear it over his heartbeat.

he felt the coil in his stomach tighten the second your lips were on his. you tasted like strawberries (or at least that’s what he thought you’d taste like because of your pink gloss).

you held his face gently as you kissed him. and your tongue slipped inside his mouth so easily when he let out a deep moan for you. his eyes squeezed shut as he felt you grind down on him. your pace speeding up the longer his lips were on yours.

“jake,” you panted, he didn’t know he could want to hear your voice more but you proved him wrong with the way you sounded right now. “can you touch me?”

he could’ve came right then but he took a deep breath to compose himself and nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. he dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, stopping at your ass to give it a squeeze to which you let out a whine.

giving his confidence a boost, he kept going up with one of his hands, pressing down on your lower back to close the small distance between your bodies and grinding up into you.

he broke the kiss to look down between your bodies and saw your hands working on unbuttoning his pants. he didn’t know how his breathing could become even more ragged but it did. especially so when he felt your cold hands pull his cock out of his pants, and he had to look away. he squeezed his eyes shut trying to focus but how could he with your delicate hands stroking him so perfectly.

“jakey, you said you’d show me a good time,” you said, looking up at him with those irresistible eyes of yours. fuck, fuck was all jake could think as he rolled you over, positioning himself between your legs.

“i know i did, angel,” he whispered by your ear, placing a kiss right below it. he reached under your skirt, then pulled your underwear all the way down your legs. “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

he lined himself up quickly, not wanting to look like he’d never done this before. then he leaned down for a quick peck making you smile into the kiss and hearing that pretty little laugh he loves to hear. now he could push in gently and it was easier than he thought it’d be.

there was still resistance though because you were tight. so tight he had to drop his head down beside you and just breathe for a second. he could honestly just stay here forever, his cock buried so deep in you. he loved the feeling more than he expected.

you placed a hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, your other hand soothing his arm that supported his weight above you. and he wanted this you always, every day, never wanted to hear you talk about another man again.

so he started thrusting into you, slow but hard thrusts. with you squeezing his arm, pulling on his hair, and moaning out his name, he was a goner for sure. “yes, that’s what i wanna hear,” he said, lips on yours as he kissed you again.

he kissed on your neck, and brought his hand down to rub circles on your clit just like in the videos he studied for you. he never heard your voice this loud before, couldn’t believe the way you looked with your head thrown back as you came around him.

he was close now too, knew his thrusts were getting sloppier. but you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “god, you’re so good for me,” he whined.

“i’m so close,” he said, kissing you again as you put your arms around his neck. then he heard you whisper something that he didn’t quite catch, he leaned in closer so you could repeat it.

“babe, please come in me,” you whispered. and that’s all it took for him to come undone, a moaning mess as he filled you up. he was panting at this point, trying to regulate his breathing.

and unfortunately that’s exactly how he woke up. in his own bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked. only one thing, or more specifically, person on his mind.

[ham1lton]

MISS BAD MEDIA KARMA

pairings: (alleged) charles leclerc x reader. lando norris x reader. george russell x reader. (platonic) sebastian vettel x reader.

warnings: misogynistic media and comments.

summary: after a night out with your fellow drivers, the media is alight with rumours and speculation about your romantic life. most people would call a pr meeting, you go through the funniest rumours on instagram live and rate them out of ten.

author’s note: i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in! also as usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote!

— part of my maneater series ꕤ

START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (20K WATCHING)

Y/N: hi guys! hi! how is everyone? how are you doing?

user1: Y/N NOTICE ME!

user2: y/n girl u look hungover as hell 😭

Y/N: am i hungover? perhaps. that’s probably why i’m doing this. jo is going to kill me but whatever.

user3: what are you planning on doing? 😭

Y/N: after yesterday’s… events. there have been a lot of rumours about me and my fellow drivers that have been spread around social media. so let’s talk through them and rate them out of ten.

user7: ain’t this a pr disaster?

user8: you probably shouldn’t do this.

landonorris: LMFAOOOOOO DO IT

Y/N: lando? how are you not hungover from last night? i’ll start with you. apparently according to this thread by twitter user y/nando, the two of us are secretly engaged to be married. okay first of all, why? second of all, no. i’m sorry. that isn’t happening any time soon. also, my schedule is too packed to be thinking about marriage plans. this one is 2/10 because c’mon.

landonorris: i’m searching that thread right now.

landonorris: wait lol why is this kinda accurate… are you sure we’re not engaged?

user7: LMFAOOOOOO

Y/N: we’re supposed to be EXTINGUISHING the rumours, not adding to them??? we are not engaged. we’re just friends. barely that if anything.

user8: BOOOOOOOOO

y/nando: it’s okay :) you’ll see that you’re perfect for each other one day.

Y/N: will we? anyways. next rumour. according to some monaco newspaper, charles and i have a secret child. this is apparently backed up by some anonymous sources.

landonorris: BOOOOO we get some shitty engagement rumour and you and charles get a child. i want a redo!

charles_leclerc: don’t deny our child y/n 😔

user6: y’all are MESSY 😭

user9: CHARLESY/N SUPREMACY 😍

georgerussell63: end the live y/n 😁👍🏻

Y/N: what is this photo? this is supposed to be proof of my pregnancy? i was just bloated from an evening of indulging at this amazing italian restaurant. it was gorgeous. whoever used this photo is dead wrong for that. this one is 5/10 cause i feel self conscious.

user12: no deadass 😭 if i was famous i would have had a million pregnancy rumours by now.

user68: no charlesy/n baby? BOOO!

Y/N: another one. george and i were spotted buying baby clothes in london. apparently george is me and charles’ baby’s godfather. there is no baby! charles and i don’t have a kid. so george is not the godfather!

georgerussell63: wait… why not? i would be a great godfather actually. i am offended.

user9: george going from telling y/n to switch off the live to being offended he isn’t the godfather of her alleged baby is crazy 😭

Y/N: also why was i shopping with george and not my alleged baby daddy? charles you’re a deadbeat to our non-existent child and that’s why this newspaper is saying that george is raising my kid?

charles_leclerc: apologies to leclerc jr but no way i’m letting george raise him.

georgerussell63: i’m not ready to be a stepdad but c’mon i’d be a great one.

user4: george isn’t the stepdad, he’s the dad that stepped up!

logansargeant: i’m upset that i haven’t been included in these rumors.

Y/N: if i was gonna ask anyone to be my baby’s stepdad it would be oscar. this rumour is 3/10 because it’s so unbelievable.

oscarpiastri: NOOOOOOOO 😰

user9: HELP???

user67: i’m watching this while doing my makeup. y/n is my favourite influencer!

user78: i was watching your vlog when i saw the notification!

Y/N: did you enjoy this vlog? for people who haven’t seen it yet, it’s detailing my offseason with my friends and family! we travelled a little and i did some work with my sponsorships! so check it out. we have some very interesting camera people.

user65: can’t believe you had the usher do your camera work for your superbowl vlog.

user8: you met beyoncé, you never gonna fail!

user67: be honest, did you faint at the sight of all the big celebs?

lewishamilton: y/n, this is all very interesting but maybe you shouldn’t be doing this? - sebastian.

Y/N: seb?? what are you doing here? and why are you on lewis’ account? don’t you have your own?

lewishamilton: i lost my login information 😅 and i got a message from charles telling me to shut this down - sebastian.

Y/N: what a snitch…

user23: he mad y/n didn’t accept their child 😭

Y/N: speaking of sebastian, here is my favourite rumour. that sebastian is my father and i’m his secret lovechild.

youryoungersis: wait…. is that why we look so different? you have a different dad???

lewishamilton: i’m not that much older than you? how can i be your dad? i’m only 13 years older than you! do i look that old? - sebastian, NOT your father.

user7: HELPSOSJSSJ

user5: NOT HIM CLARIFYING 😭😭

Y/N: that one is funny but no. we don’t even look alike! i hear a lot that we have the same mannerisms but that’s probably because i practically grew up around the guy. i’m rating this one…. 7/10.

lewishamilton: grew up around not with! - sebastian, NOT her father.

user2: BRO WE GET IT 😭😭😭😭

Y/N: so basically, time for the last one. this one is definitely the most out of pocket one.

alex_albon: BOOOOO I MISSED MOST OF IT

danielricciardo: 🤣🤣🤣

user98: HELSPSOSJ i’m laughing so hard.

Y/N: oh hi jo! how did you get in? WAIT!-

INSTAGRAM LIVE ENDED. (98K WATCHING)

[seungfl0wer]

Hyunjin As Your Boyfriend

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut🩷

Small note, hyunjin is really just- coming for me lately. So I needed this more than I knew lol

-🩵

•The hopeless romantic.

•He’s thinking of the best. Date ideas.

•They’re so thought out, so unique and cute-

•Takes you two to the beach for a beautiful picnic.

•Movie nights laying on your bed with a projected on the ceiling so y’all can cuddle.

•Plans cute painting dates.

•Speaking of paintings.

•Has so many doodles, drawings ext that are of you or things that make him think of you.

•Your first date? It’s a painting.

•That one picture he just melts seeing.

•It’s a cute little doodle he keeps in his phone case.

•Loves writings you little notes that you can put in your phone case.

•Loves telling others “that’s my partner”

•Gush’s about you a lot.

•Especially to the members.

•Which he always likes to tease you about them.

•”Ah- y/n why are you talking to innie? I’m right here? Your handsome boyfriend”

•And when you give any of them a hug.

•Mans whining “Right infront of me? How could you. We need to go home and change your clothes of his dirty touch”

•All in good teasing, makes you laugh, makes the members laugh.

•Sits and judges people with you.

•Like you don’t like someone?

•He’s picking up the same vibes but it’s plastered on his face.

•Random dance battles.

•Ending in you both on the floor laughing at each other.

•He’ll do the little “ew” thing to you when you ask for a kiss cause you pout and he just loves that.

•”Ew we can’t kiss! I have a partner”

•Likes to take you traveling with him especially to fashion shows.

•You’re always his plus one for anything.

•Tells you all the time “you should model you’re stunning”

•Ugh and this mans complimenting you so much.

•”My partner is just amazing, they look so pretty, they’re so stunning”

•Tries to learn about stuff you like so you both can do it.

•You like Knitting? He’s learning it.

•You like to play a certain game? He’s trying it out too.

•He gets the big sad when he’s away.

•Literally thinks he’s gonna die.

•Calls you from his room saying “I can’t go on my babies not here with me, it’s been 6 years”

•Dramatic man.

•Sends you so many dumb (cute) little videos.

•Also sends you so many pictures.

•So. Many. Pictures.

•Also listen- yall getting matching jewelry.

•Because he’ll be on tour and see these cute bracelets and need to get them for the both of you.

•He’s a really good gift giver too.

•Not that you want him too, and no matter how much you protest.

•He finds the most you gift. Like it’s scary.

•Overall this man is such a hopeless romantic.

•Be ready to be treated like a god.

•Cause honestly that’s how he views you.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•He’s just as romantic in the bedroom.

•Does the whole rose peddles to the bed.

•Candles, good music ext.

•His favorite way of fucking you is anyway he can see your face.

•He just wants to be able to kiss you.

•Hands frantically touching your body.

•Also think he’s very vocal. Not so much talking.

•More of he has his head in your neck moaning and groaning.

•Is definitely leaving marks on you. Thinks they’re pretty.

•Im a firm believer that he loves when you ride him facing him.

•He can hold onto tightly, hands running all over you.

•Both of your faces contorting in pleasure.

•Likes when you suck or bite his neck.

•Honestly probably likes when you choke him. Not hard but just enough.

•If he does talk it’s him whimpering about how good you feel or how good you’re doing.

•If you got tittie he sucking them. Feel like he’s a tittie kinda guy.

•Man also really enjoys shower sex.

•It’s just so so intimate.

•And this. This is the most loving kind of sex.

•It’s normally when he is really needy and just wants you.

•The feeling of the warm water while he fucks you makes him cum so fast.

•He just loves loves it.

•Aftercare with him is a lot of loving words.

•Cuddling on the bed as he pushes his hair out of your face.

•Telling you how much he loves you.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[kiwi-bitchez]

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

[rs-hawk]

bestie’s werewolf brother where he gets jealous of your werewolf neighbor and he makes sure your whole house smells like him by banging you in every room? 🤭

Calling Bestie’s Werewold Brother Liwanu, Li for short since y’all obviously want more so I feel like he needs a name. Lol.

Liwanu still hasn’t officially asked for you to be his mate, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want everyone else to know that’s his intention. He’s over constantly, making sure to be buried deep inside of you so his scent never leaves you. He loves the way that your eyes roll back into your head as he’s knot deep inside of you, whimpering and panting for him not to pull out-not that he could by then anyways.

It’s not until your new neighbor moves in, obviously a Beta or maybe a lower ranking Alpha, that he realizes that he needs to officially ask you to be his mate. He can’t have anyone else looking at you how he does. You’re his. His human. His mate. His. The next time Linwanu comes over and he sees that other wolf chatting with you on the stairwell, making you laugh, standing a little too close, even holding a bag of your groceries, he feels like he could jump over the railing and rip his throat out. It’s unacceptable. You should know who you belong to! Haven’t you always loved him?

He doesn’t say much as he approaches you, though his heart lifts with the way your face lights up as you see him. No, you know who you belong to. It’s every other wolf he has to worry about. The other wolf’s eyes dart between the two of you, obviously placing the scent that’s fading from you to him. A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips as he moves a little closer to you, taking the other bag out of your arms and going out of his way to touch your hands.

“Hey Li! I didn’t know you were coming today,” you say as he wraps his arms around you, scowling at your neighbor.

“I wanted to see you,” he whispers in your hair as he squeezes you.

The other wolf growls slightly, but he ignores it, yanking the bags out of his hands. You follow him to your apartment, waving at your neighbor before disappearing into your little apartment.

Liwanu is already almost done putting up your groceries when you get inside. “You didn’t have to do that,” you laugh, watching him put everything away.

“I wanted to hurry,” he mutters as he turns around, kissing you deeply.

Before you know it, he has you bent over the island in your kitchen, his fat cock slamming into your leaking cunt. You’re whining and whimpering for him to slow down, telling him it’s too much, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down. He needs your whole home to smell like him, and he needs that other wolf to know who you belong to.

It’s a long night. In the kitchen, on the couch in the living room, in the shower, up against the wall in the hallway, then in your bed, him forcing you to cockwarm him as you start to fall asleep. His knot is still inflated, keeping all the cum from throughout the day locked into your stretched out and pathetic cunt. Now no one will ever doubt who you belong to again, and it gives him a little more time to think about how to ask if he can mark you as his lifelong mate.

[lianaloverr]

Your safe with me

Paring: Sam Golbach x Fem!reader

Summary: your boyfriend just broke up with you after admitting to cheating on you, and you had to break the news to Sam.

Warnings: fluffy, some cussing, softy sam

Hey y’all!! Told u a fic was coming this weekend and I delivered! I hope u all enjoy this as much as I loved writing it! Not proofread. Just to say, Sam and Kat are NOT dating!!

Proudly my gif!

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

“Y/n it’s gonna be okay.” Kat says, as she and Colby try to comfort you. “Yea, don’t cry about him, he was a dick anyways.” Colby says while patting your shoulder.

“But not only did he break up with me, he cheated on me too!” You say while balling your eyes out. “I know, I know” Kat says and Colby nods.

Your boyfriend now ex broke up with you and had the audacity to cheat on you too, you were pissed and sad. You gave that man everything, you let him stay with you, you bought him stuff, you even let him shut out a bunch of your friends because he “didn’t like them and their attitude”.

“Have you told Sam?” Kat asks as you snap out of your thoughts. “No.” You say with your stuffed nose visibly heard. “I think you should tell him, he needs to know.” Colby says.

“Yea, I should huh?” You say to Kat and Colby as you start to grab your keys.

⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞

You pull up to Sam’s house ready to tell him everything that went down, you come up in the driveway and sigh. “Here we go.”

You knock on the door, waiting for him to answer. Suddenly, the door opens and you see your best friend of 12 years standing in your face, probably watching you go through your 100th break up.

“Hey y/n, why are you crying? Are you okay?” Sam says worried. “He broke up with me and cheated too.” You tell him. And you see his face instantly soften up. “Oh my god y/n come in” he says

☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎☹︎

“ what happened?” He says. “Well he texted me out for the blue, saying that he cheated on me and that he wanted to break up.” You say as he listens to every word.

“What the fuck dude?” You hear Sam say as he is pasting around the room. “Okay but, are you okay?” He asks. “Yea, now that I’m with you.” You say honestly.

You feel a sudden warmth of your best friend hugging you like the world was ending. “Listen, I will never let anyone hurt you. If you want me to beat someone’s ass, I’ll do it. I just want you to know, I love you so so much.” Sam tells you. “I love you too.” You say. “How about we get some ice cream and watch a movie huh?” Sam says and you nod.

࿎࿎

As you and Sam are watching a movie, you can’t help but to think back to when he said he loves you. You and him always said you loved each other, but this time felt different.

You had always had feelings for Sam, but since you guys were best friends you never tried to get with him and tried to distract yourself with boyfriends and one night-stands.

“Sam, I’m tired do you mind if I crash here?” You ask. “Yes of course, you know I’m not gonna say no.” He says with a chuckle. “Okay, thank you..” you say as you drift of to sleep.

As you close your eyes, you hear Sam say one more thing.

“Don’t worry y/n, you’re safe with me.”

༛༛

Heyy guys! I hoped you enjoyed reading this! Sorry it’s so short lol. But thank you for reading, I appreciate your support and everything. Lmk if you want anything else for Sam or anyone else on my masterlist!! Love u all and see you on the next fic!

From Pinterest

[papaya-twinks]

Hi idk of you've seen Max's stream the one where landos wearing a blue dime hoodie but in that stream lando made like music beats and they're like actually good but anyway I had an idea of smth with singer!gf!reader x lando where she like sings and he produces it and ppl go crazy over them and it can be like an upbeat love song like espresso by sabrina carpenter or smth idk just an idea xx

Warnings: swearing, banter

Pairing: Lando Norris x singer!fem!reader

Summary: Singing had always been your passion, and luckily, Lando was also your passion 😎 (don’t usually put summaries but this made me giggle in my on head, sorry if it’s not actually funny)

A/N - idk what the quality so bad tbh

SMAU

y/n

caption: POV ur too broke to produce ur own song 🥹

landonorris: just twerk on stage for money. Oh wait, u already do 😐

-> lilymhe: stop hating on my girl u hater

-> carmenmundt: someone had their hater-ade

alexandrasaintmleux: I’ll pay with charles’ money

-> charlesleclerc: tell me how I know I already don’t have a say in this

oscarpiastri: sell feet pics

-> carlossainz: I advise against it, I tried and i can’t stop

-> user1: WTAF

user2: help this is hilarious

lewishamilton: aw, y/n! Was getting excited for another song

landonorris

caption: did some practise, did quail, did a race, did a heist in order to obtain money, further used money to produce song, usual weekend

y/n: I bought u Starbucks don’t forget that

-> landonorris: oh yeah the thousands I spent on ur song is nothing compared to that

-> y/n: I also gave u head tho 😒

user3: y/n and Lando r wilding

user4: this is so unhinged wtaf

carlossainz: I thought there was a few thousand missing

maxfewtrell: y/n u suck I buy Lando everything

-> y/n: he’s just exploiting us max, see the truth, he’s a gold digger

-> maxfewtrell: oh my fucking god…

-> maxfewtrell: UR SO RIGHT AHHHHHHHHHHH

y/n

caption: it produced my song 😋

landonorris: ‘it’ was balls deep in u last night

-> y/n: LANDO TMI

-> landonorris: uploading the sex tape to my public story

-> y/n: LANDO STOP

-> landonorris: beg

-> y/n: PLEASEEEEEEEEEEE

carlossainz: I’m uncomfortable

oscarpiastri: his face looks weird from that angle

-> y/n: would u prefer the back? backshots?!

-> georgerussell63: y/n wtaf ur weird

-> y/n: Alr mr ‘my name is so common I had to add a number on the end to get a username that wasn’t taken’

-> y/n: (insult 👆)

y/n

caption: I love ‘it’

landonorris: look who’s thinkin’ about me every night 😨

-> y/n: lol not me

-> landonorris: for someone begging for back shots last night, that’s crazy

-> y/n: I humbly request to swallow my words and ask for more back shots

carmenmundt: ISNT THAT SWEET I GUESS SOOSOSOSOOSOSOO

lilymhe: mommy serving 🫶

alexalbon: wtaf is wrong with my woman

user5: not everyone loving it

user4: 🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞

y/n

caption: IM SO GLAD Y’ALL LOVE IT @/landonorris producer x singer 🫶🫶🫶😼😼😼

landonorris: AHHHH MY GF’S AMAZING

-> landonorris: YES YES YES YES

-> landonorris: MY BABY MY BABY MY BABY

-> y/n: ILYYYYYYY

user6: It’s a banger y/n!

user7: so proud of our girl!

lewishamilton: never Lets us down

fernandoalonsooficial: what does the ex not give to the man?

-> y/n: uhhhhhh breakfast in bed

-> landonorris: mhm 👍

landonorris: GUESS WHO JUST BUSTED OVER THE COVER AJAKKWKWKWOWOWKKWKAKAKAKAK

-> georgerussell63: Lando wtaf

-> landonorris: I’m gonna bust on u if u don’t stfu

-> landonorris: I was witerally hacked 😽

[blqstar]

＊ synopsis : as a surprise, todoroki spoils you as a way of showing his love (even though he spoils you everyday lol literally a day in the life of dating todoroki)

＊ pairing : shoto todoroki x black!reader

＊ warnings : none, just pure fluff + love

notes -> y’all this was so cute to write 😭 it might not be the best writing but i was tired so lmao. anyways, i hope y’all feel what im talking about (lmao) and hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing this!

+ as you know, your boyfriend loves to spoil you. whether it’s a materialistic gift or just his love and affection, you will never go a day or even a week without receiving something from him.

+ you always appreciated his love. he was always there to provide you with the comfort, attention, and quality time you needed. however, your pookie bear decided to act differently today.

+ once you woke up, you saw a breakfast tray on your bed and to your surprise, you also saw todoroki kneeling next to you, a big smile on his handsome face.

“good morning, love. how’d you sleep?”

“it was really good, babe. my bonnet even came off.”

todoroki laughs. “that’s good. i made some breakfast for you, i hope you enjoy it.”

+ you smile, thinking to yourself, ‘omg what did i do to deserve this man?’

+ todoroki has always shown you these acts of kindness but it never fails to make your heart jump in excitement and surprise every time.

+ when you finish eating, he gently picks you up and carries you to your bathroom, where a bath was waiting for you.

+ to put it simply, this was the most tranquil bath you have ever had. he comes along and bathes with you, carefully cleansing your luscious coils and your brown, silky skin, making sure everything is spotless while you do the same for him.

+ he even gives you small kisses on the body parts he washed (like 🥺 so cute)

+ after your done, todoroki decides to take you to your favorite mall. there, you get some food from the food court and walk around through the various stores.

+ todoroki holds your hand while you stroll, taking note of everything you scan through so he can buy it for you later (what a gentleman)

+ one thing you will never change about him is his generous side. he never lets you pay for him and if you do, he’ll find something that you want that he can pay for to owe you back. todo is a little old-fashioned and but honestly, you will always love that about him.

+ after your time out, todo ended the day off with watching a movie. you both made a comfy space on the couch, laying out comforters and pillows

+ it gave you butterflies how he set up your side with more pillows than his side (hes so sweet)

“did you enjoy today?” shoto asks, looking down at you with a small smile.

“yeah, it was great. y’know babe, you always spoil me to death. don’t you ever get tired?” you look up at him with a curious expression on your face.

shoto sighs and grins. “love, i will never stop spoiling you. you deserve everything you get and so much more. so to answer your question, i don’t get tired and i never will.”

+ let’s just say, the night ended with a small makeout sesh and a peaceful beauty sleep for the both of you.

[thementalshawty]

PAC The Aura You Give Off

HAYLOWWWWWWW welcome back lol I’m here with a quick PAC cos we’re almost there to 2000 followers oooop our tarot event is near!!! So to celebrate my 1985 followers huh isn’t that a Taylor Swift album? 🤔 anyways I’m here to let you guys know and see what kind of vibes you give off. I feel A lot of you like anime! I was pulled to anime images for this PAC and you guys know I do emojis. I also feel Red, Blue,Teal, & Purple are inportant to some of you or are actually the color of some of your auras they can be your favorite colors too maybe that’s how you should choose your pile? Some of you I heard!! Anyways let’s get this going you know this is a GENERAL reading take what resonated and the let the rest ROLL off it’s for someone else!!! Okay bitches let’s fuccin GOOOOOOOOOOO

Pile I

Yo this is deep and intense, I feel that’s the vibe you give off. You give off a death and resurrection vibes, the beginning and end the alpha and omegas I feel like there is plutonic energy about you guys, very scorpionic vibes. Some of you like black or are night owls. I get tortured soul vibes from you, very grungy. But so upbeat positive, unique, rare and goofy it’s like a goth singing 1000 miles by Vanessa Carlton I’m getting those vibes, pink and black vibes. You guys have been through so much shit! You guys give off defeated but thugging through with a smile vibe, happy go lucky. Sunshine on a rainy day I heard. You guys are a cloudy day but it’s still sunny. Very uranian energy too, you guys stand out and I feel you guys suffer for it. Very fun and outspoken. Outgoing! Risk takers and that’s gotten you guys into some deep trouble but you rose out of it! You guys give off soldier through war ptsd fighting for a happy ending vibes some of you have fake it til you make it vibes. Some of you. People see that you’re a warrior who’s been defeated but you’re not afraid of starting over from 0. The baddest period. Some of you may have sun in Gemini ♊️ which means happy birthdays gem babies!!! You’re unique be you and don’t worry about the pain you are the happy go lucky baby you will be ok!! You’re very strong you’ve died and came back so many times the transformations you’ve went through are endless.

Pile II

Ooof! So this pile gives off selfish bitchery vibes, you guys seem so motherly, maternal, paternal, parental, loving. Very caring and sweet but I think you give off insincere vibes like you have to give something to get something from you. I also feel people feel like some of you are players or that you’re heartbreakers, you’re very helpful I feel but people may be reluctant to take your help? Some of you may be Taurus moons?? You like money, luxury, having things, people can assume you’re bougie or stuck up!! You are very careful with who you help, again this is why people may assume the worst about you. You guys are very grounded and earthlyd. I feel like you guys have a lot and you worked for that shit! A lot of you are self made and I heard jealous! They are very fucking jealous of you! Your whole vibe and energy shit what you got too! Even if you don’t physically or materially have a lot. They want what you got, you just have it! youre the it boys/girls/its/thems! You got a lot of haters ! People try to make you guys out to be “better than them”. Idgaf that’s cos you are! You’re regal 👸🏽 🤴🏽 👑. They can’t take you and I feel like you guys defend yourself! You guys are hella motivational too you wanna see your people succeed & make it. You’re a cheerleader cos you clawed your way and fought tooth and nail I heard to make it happen for you and I am all happy for you guys I’m rooting for y’all to keep going fuck the haters and the ones that have negative thoughts Ik know getting the vibe of this guarded energy that people are mistaking for selfishness and that’s on them. Some of your guides are talking and they have attitude and I’m here for it! They don’t play about you and I think it’s cos they know what you had to go through to have what you have so protect that shit with everything regardless of how little or how much you think you have. You have a lot! I love this vibe p2. You are tight as fucc. I love you! Stay true and even if you’re bougie stay having high standards! Stay classy

Pile III

So this pile is a little sad, you guys give sad boy/girl/them vibes. It seems like you guys are very sentimental but you give off the vibe of being stuck in nostalgia if that makes sense. You can be the ones that still wear 90’s style clothes or listen to that music. lol I’m hearing still trying to make fetch work so maybe some of you like mean girls. Gretchen wieners I think her name was right? anyways you guys give off that vibe of being trapped when you’re not really trapped. You guys get into your head a lot! Some of you maybe Scorpio suns and Gemini Jupiters it can even be vice versa. I’m seeing that you’re over-thinkers and when you start thinking bout old times you can travel way back into your memories. Jupiter has to do with expansion and Gemini is mercurial mental energy so I feel like with that you guys are the biggest over-thinkers of this reading! You guys can stretch a thought for miles long! I feel like you’re hella intelligent too! You’re intense and you’re giving, romantic, sweet. You make everyone feel like they’ve met you somewhere before. You give have familiarity vibes. It’s just so easy with you I feel you can make others feel at ease and hella comfortable with you. Your aura and vibe is homely very warm like similar to p2 but more humbling. You’re generous. Kind. I feel like your aura is kind of trapped in a happy dream vibes. I heard happyland? I feel you guys are emotionally invested in your happy memories and good times. I feel in a past life you were trapped in some way. I also think you give off the vibe of being trapped so maybe some of you jail? I’m thinking that a lot of you think you’re deeper shit than you are, a lot of you feel like you’re trapped and you’re truly not. You just have to be grateful for those memories and create more, maybe you’re afraid to leave that happy space but there is a world beyond those happy memories! You’ll be surrounded by so much more happiness creating present love and happiness for yourself!

Pile IV

Okay! So I’m seeing that some of you may be some Aries sun and mercury Virgos. My roasters of this entire reading! You know how to read a bitch down hunny! I’m seeing that you are a wholesome and fulfilled person, who doesn’t rush, you know the value of working hard and waiting for your fruits to grow and ripen. Very family oriented. You know who you are and what you want which is why you don’t rush shit, you know that what’s for you is going to be yours regardless. I feel like this pile here is very humble and confident at the same time! You have a deep balance about you, very passionate yet grounded so you’re not all over the place, it’s controlled. Your circle is little and means the world to you. You are a legacy or you’ll leave behind a legacy honestly! Powerful and passionate energy. I also feel like you know how to manifest this pile gives me magician vibes, you know how to create physical and material things from energy. You’re a great friend; a great hang and a wonderful time. You are amazing and magical, you’re wealth, a lot of you may have wealth or are destined for it, material wealth. You are in charge, you are the boss if there’s a CEO you’re the boss of them; you know what you want and you accept only that nothing less than the best for you. I’m so glad that you have that self love! You’re a leader meant to rule, you give off big boss captain energy. You are meant to have lots of people following your rules or journey maybe admirers? Followers maybe online? I get this vibe that you’re that fighter who never stops punching even when they’re on the ground, you’ve never lost a battle. You’re a champion!

WELP! That’s it guys that’s all! I’m so happy that I can share this cool reading with you guys! Should I do more personal readings like this! I hope that it resonated with you guys and for my patreon group please get your questions in before may ends thank you!

[loaksbitch]

y’all imagine jake sully okay? JAKE SULLY coming back from hunting party (if that’s a thing lol) and found you curled up on the bed you share almost half asleep thinking how you’re adorable and small until you decide to tease him and he ends up fucking you — cuddle fucking 🧎🏽‍♀️

warnings - smut, yep it’s a smut!! neck kissing & biting, side ways fucking, clit stimulation, and cum stuffing also reader is the one who starts to tease alright, idk i’ll edit it if i find any other notes i’ll have to add :P happy reading!

“cuddle-fücking you.” — jake sully (⨳)

he did it again.

jake sully stood you up for another hunting party and he can’t imagine how he’s starting to hate himself now. “i’ll be back by eclipse, princess” he had said when he left and it’s now almost over, the eclipse.

climbing fast to your shared hammock, jake moves the fabric used as a door and walks inside, he wanted to call your name but couldn’t because you’ll probably be sleeping. “knucklehead.” he curse himself.

even the kids are already asleep too. your mate walks to your shared small room and was greeted by your figure laying on the bed you two share. fuck you jake sully, fuck you.

trying not to disturb you, he removes his fighting tools from his body and place them on the mat as gentle as possible. jake slowly walks to the bed and kneels on it making the bed to sink and cause you to shuffle at your sleep

on eywa he swore how breathtaking you are just sleeping with a relaxed face.

right after he let himself slid under the sheet, jake bits his lips hard when you move and call for him. “ma jake?” his heart pinches, he feels so bad. “i’m here baby, right here.” he quickly press his chest to your back as your face is turned to the other direction.

“mhm,” you sigh, satisfied when he pulls you to him by the waist. “how did the party go? did you wound yourself?” you, half awake, feel jake nod against your back. “i didn’t, princess i’ll all good” he tells you it went good.

you smile when you feel him press light feathered like kisses on the curve of your neck. “it’s ticklish” your voice was so pretty to him. everything, everything about you is pretty.

you feel jake finally let a relieved and satisfied sigh out, pulling you close to him. your mate loved spooning and you didn’t complain. it’s the best thing ever, he called it a human thing they do on earth but here, with you. deciding to call it a night out, you press yourself to jake more causing your ass to be pressed against his pelvis.

you closed your eyes and felt yourself sighing and your body doing the same like jake, and a smile touched your lips again.

then you felt it.

it was a subtle movement against your ass. his lower body had stirred, but that often happened when he laid down so you try to push the thoughts of what you’re thinking back to your brain. plus he didn't react to it anyway, so you chalked it up to the beginnings of a sleep boner.

then you felt it again.

you fight the urge to move against him. jake looked super tired and his deeper breathing told you that he was probably getting the sleep he needed. you pushed away the dirty thoughts that were starting to come to your mind in favor of letting him sleep.

yet you felt it yet again, and this time it was harder.

your mate inhaled and exhaled deeply, pushing his hips into you ever so slightly. that coupled with the feeling of his warm breath against your neck, and the lingering remnants of his scent he probably brought over him while hunting was making your body heat up.

the warmth beginning between your legs and spreading through your body. you try to cover your whimper while a light sleeping cough and gulp down your sinful sounds. now the feeling of tiredness and sleep empty, you’re trying to slow down your shallow breath.

his cock twitched again and you reflexively arched into him more, your ass pressing against his half erection. his lips parted and he let out a very soft moan in response. you chided yourself for moving and possibly waking him, but he still seemed to be sleeping.

jake on other hand was trying not to push his clothed yet growing bulge against your ass. he knows you’re tired and dosed off, but your unintentional ass pressing to him was making him hard by every second passing.

you squeezed your thighs together to feel a little friction and was rewarded with a couple short pulsing contractions. not a full orgasm, but enough to make your close your eyes because it felt good. you did it again when you felt his cock throb against you once more, and you started to feel the need to feel full.

you were starting to feel your moisture leaking out of you and dampening your loincloth, and you secretly wished he would wake up on his own so that you wouldn't feel guilty for waking him. you bit your lip and squeezed your thighs together again and jake felt his cock throbbed against you. this time he moaned a little louder and pushed his hips against you harder.

oh shoot! you scream inside.

you were about to apologize for waking your mate from his slumped before you felt him holding your hip with his free hand and began rutting against you. you could feel his abs contract and his body shaking as he moved his hips, the friction causing him to moan.

every sound and short cut sighs that escaped his lips made your pussy throb, and you started to rhythmically push your ass against his cock. your eyes shoot open when kisses are delivered to your exposed neck.

“jake,” your voice was soft and whisper, constantly reminding yourself the kids are asleep. the two of you kept this dance until jake was the first to make a move and remove the clothing for your breast made out of leaves.

jake, with closed eyes smile when he hears gou shushing yourself as your nipple roll between his fingers. he was massaging you so well. he began kissing your neck as he continued rutting against you, and you kept squeezing your thighs together as you pushed back against him.

the sound of sharp inhaled and soft moans filling the silence, you two kept rubbing on each other while you’re both supposed to be cuddling and sleeping.

gradually his hand crept down your belly, his fingers dipping between your legs. a long "fuuuck," exhaled in your ear, feeling how you had soaked through your own loincloth. you moaned at the feeling of him touching you, and you arched into him harder as a reward. this was definitely a mutual hormones.

jake, by now probably had leaked a pre cum cause of how you’re sexy when pushing back against him. you were about to roll over and see for yourself, but he began whispering instructions in your ear. "take these off," he breathed while pulling down the waistband of your loincloth.

you lifted your hips to help him remove them, and somehow he got his own off without getting out of bed. jake pulled away slightly and you felt him grab his dick and stroke it slowly while letting out a long exhale. "i’ve got something for you," he said.

be then brought his index finger to your lips and smeared his precum across them. you then opened your mouth and began sucking the salty liquid from his finger, loving the taste of him and thanking him for reading your mind and being so thoughtful. jake hisses when you lightly bite onto his finger.

“mhm.” your moan vibrates against his fingers and his cock twitches. jake pushes his cock in between your thighs almost on a thigh-fucking mode to lubricate his length with your nectar. you try to arch your back and press your ass more to him and whine when he bucks away, teasing you.

“you’re an impatient little thing huh? you don’t like me teasing you?” he mockingly ask, “i thought you were tired, lover girl.” you moan when his tip rubs your clit before he draws his thrust. “what if i want to tease you?” you can literally imagine the stupid grin on his face.

you lick your lips, chest having up and down fast. your back, for millionth time arches when the fat girth of his cock slips between your folds and he thrusts mid way inside your hole before stopping. oh no he did not.

“baby…” you almost cry at his torture. you’re chasing your blinding orgasm while he keeps pulling you from the cliff end to jump. “tell me, princess, what do you want?”

“you.” you say fast feeling his chest roar when he chuckles quietly. “not so shy, mhm?” oh shut up and fuck me! you wanted to say loud but you bite your tongue for him to give you what you want.

“jake.” you warn, a tiny tint of desperation found in your voice. “uh-uh, not till you say it” his cock was driving you insane, if only he could bottom out in you. “please baby, please.” you’re begging, pride thrown aside for now.

you were such a whore, “say it, pretty girl.” he demanded moving painfully slowly, “or else imma have to—“ he starts to pull out. “fuck me! please jake fuck me!” thank eywa it was night time now or you wouldn’t survive with the blush tinting allover your face.

"good girl," he moaned as he began fucking you deeper, grabbing your hip so hard it hurt. every thrust you could feel in your chest as he drove deeper, and you felt your orgasm building. jake slowed down and started long stroking while grabbing your breast so hard that it hurt in the best way.

you moaned as he fucked you slowly, arching your back as much as you could so that he was bottoming out with every thrust. you wanted to cum so bad and you know you’ll make it. he slid his hand between your legs again and started to massage your clit.

it only seemed like jake was reading your mind, but in reality he knew you, he could tell you were getting frustrated by the sound of your silent voice and by the way you tried to move your hips and encourage him to go faster. “easy girl,” he laughs at you.

you moaned louder and you almost felt your orgasm in your grasp. he moved his finger left and right across your clit just like you liked, driving himself deep inside you, breathing hard in your ear and edging you closer and closer. “that’s it baby, do it again” he growls. “tightening on me.” you do it again and jake let a deadly moan out.

"you feel so good, baby," he moaned. "so fucking tight." you clenched around his dick at his words and he moaned again. you could tell he was close to losing control. his thrusts were becoming jerkier, and he was panting in between moaning expletives. “so. fucking. tiny.” he growls.

your man, jake removed his hand from between your legs and replaced it with yours, and you started to rub your clit, essentially masturbating on his dick. “ngh, jake… f-feels so good” you cry out, eyes widening when you feel him lifting your leg, holding it in the air, and starting to fuck you hard and fast again, making you moan loudly.

“shh, you’re gonna wake the kids.” you nod, drunk with pleasure. your body tensed as you felt your orgasm crashing over you, and you cried out every time your pussy squeezed his dick. but jake didn't stop. he fucked you hard through your orgasm, not caring how hypersensitive you were becoming or how you felt like you couldn't take anymore.

deep voice hovers over your ear, “take it, you’re doing good. make me cum.” your ears perk up when he requests to make him cum. but the overstimulation was becoming too much. just before you were about to tap out you felt his dick get even harder and more rigid.

he’s so close.

you bit your lip and let him keep fucking you because you were a big girl and you could take the beating he was giving you as he chased his own orgasm. jake suddenly slowed down, signaling that he was right there. it was his tell that he was about to come and you mentally started the countdown.

jake growls and bottoms out while his hand his still on air with your legs held up. “baby.” he whines, he fucking whines and your inside tighten. “jake please,” you don’t know what you’re begging for now. “give me it.” you tell him.

that was the last push to send him over edge and making him fully bottom out in you and spill his frustration and tiredness in you. “taking me so well, i know princess i know” he says seeing how your whole body tensed when he filled you up.

“such a good girl for me only.”

“you’re amazing,” he tells you his voice already tired. “you’re amazing too, ma jake.” he smiled and playfully bite your shoulder. “i love you” he says not waiting for a respond cause him still being inside you was an “i love you too”

too spent to move, you don’t even tell him to pull out and lean against him ready to sleep. everything is now peaceful making you both easily drift to a deep slumber.

uhm-uhm *clears throat* this was a 2k+ words worth it i think. but like seriously, i’m scared i’ll lose my interest in human men because this obsession isn’t obviously right 😐 — hope you enjoyed reading! like + reblogs are appreciated and not pressured!! mwah i love each and everyone of you babies.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Reflections | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: alcoholism, toxic relationship dynamics, mentions/descriptions of smut (MDNI 18+ ONLY), angstangstangst, the crippling reality of being broke and in your twenties, an ambiguous ending! Up to your imagination what happens next :)

Word Count: 5026

A/N: For a lovely nonnie!! This fic hits close to home LMFAO as does the song the fic is inspired by. Not to call you out nonnie but tell me you’ve been in a situationship that ended horribly without telling me you’ve been in a situationship that ended horribly… lol. Anyway, i hope y’all enjoy this absolute angst cesspool of pre-season one Dean!! 

Songs of the fic ! (did anyone else’s exes listen to the trifecta of male manipulator music aka car seat headrest, cigs after sec, and the neighbourhood? bonus points if chase atlantic is thrown in there, too)

Reflections by the Neighbourhood

Casual by Chappell Roan

Working for the Knife by Mitski

It’s Only Sex by Car Seat Headrest

Cry by Cigarettes After Sex

Queue up your favorite music streaming service if you’d like, and have a wonderful read!

Meeting Dean Winchester was among the more wonderful things that happened to you. After graduating from college, your life had been complete hell. Between non-stop job interviews, working shifts at a crappy restaurant job you’d had since sophomore year to be able to pay your rent, and a crumbling relationship with your family, you were drowning. Needing a night off, you decided to go out with a few of your friends. 

It was that night that you met Dean. As soon as you walked into the bar, he caught your eye. He was busy chatting with a pretty blonde with long, toned legs, but you hardly noted her. He was all muscle, tall, freckled, and had probably been sculpted by the gods. 

Men didn’t usually hold your attention. You were too busy and had too many previous relationships with frat boys and abusive idiots to worry about or focus on another one. Dean, however, was different. 

Through the night, you tried to just enjoy your time with your friends, but every piece of you was hoping that the beautiful stranger would come over and talk to you. And finally, finally, your silent prayer came true. 

His confidence was intimidating. Your friends all blushed and giggled when he approached, and your best friend pulled your other two girls away to another table to let you and Dean talk. 

“Your friend seems disappointed,” he said evenly. 

“In what?” you asked, a smile pulling at your lips. 

“That I’m talking to you and not her,” the man replied. 

Oh, god. You knew his type. You knew he’d be horrible for you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “You’re very sure of yourself…” you trailed off, waiting for him to tell you his name. 

“Dean,” he told you. 

“Dean.” The name felt good rolling off your tongue. “Nice to meet you, Dean.”

“Trust me, pleasure’s all mine,” he replied. 

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You can drop the cheesy lines.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. 

“C’mon, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” you smirked, taking a sip of your beer.

“Most girls like ‘em,” he said, confidence unwavering. 

“Do you think I’m like most girls?” you asked, eyes challenging and lustful. 

“No,” he smirked. 

***

That night was officially marked in the calendar as the night you had the best sex of your life. Dean was incredibly giving in bed, and he wouldn’t let himself finish until you did. He knew when to be gentle and when to be rough with you, and you appreciated how attentive to your reactions he was. 

After that, Dean came over to your apartment every night for four days. And yet, you still knew very little about him. 

“Where ‘re you from, Dee?” you asked, sitting on the couch across from him with a beer in your hand. 

“Lawrence. In Kansas,” he replied shortly. Dean normally wasn’t as curt with you, and you knew you needed to press further into that.

“We’re a long way from Kansas, Toto,” you joked. “What’s got you out here?” 

“Eh, y’know. My brother’s off at Stanford, my dad’s a dick when he’s not around, and I just needed to get away for a bit,” Dean explained, shrugging. 

“Brother?” you asked. 

A smile spread across his face. “Yeah, uh, Sam’s his name. He’s in undergrad for law. His freshman year.”

“Oh, damn. He must be really smart, then,” you prompted. 

Dean nodded, still grinning. “Yeah, he is.”

“What about you?” you asked.

“What about me?” he replied, taking a sip of his beer. 

“College?” 

He shook his head. “Nah. Dropped out as soon as it was legal to.”

You snickered. 

“What about you? What are you doin’ out here?” Dean asked, sinking further into your couch. Even the way he sat emanated confidence. 

You sighed. 

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you—”

You shook your head. “No, no! It’s okay. It’s just— It’s complicated.” Dean allowed you to collect your thoughts for a moment. “Went to school, got myself a degree, and I graduated last year. And now, I’m barely keeping myself afloat. Applied to tons of places, got interviews at some, and all of ‘em fell through.”

“Oh,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, taking a deep breath. “It’s alright. I’m sure every new grad goes through this shit.”

“What about your family?” Dean asked you. “You close with them?”

You scoffed. “All of them can suck my dick.”

Dean chuckled, clearly caught off-guard. “Jesus. That bad?”

“Absolutely.” You stretched and put your empty beer bottle down on the coffee table. “Life’s not all bad, though.”

“Oh?” Dean prompted. 

“I met you, didn’t I?” you smiled lopsidedly. 

The man chuckled but said nothing. 

Immediately, you felt embarrassed. “Sorry, I— I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I did. I know we’re just hooking up, and—”

Dean shook his head. “No, no. It’s okay. Just… I wanna be upfront with you. I’m just rolling through. I’m never gonna be in one place for long.”

Your heart sank. “Oh.”

“It’s nothing against you, trust me. You’re—” Dean cut himself off, sighing. He sat up fully, put his beer down, and turned to face you. “Trust me. It’s not you.” He put his hand over yours, making you look up at him. 

‘Damn his gorgeous face,’ you thought. You would never be able to stay angry with him for too long. You surged forward and pressed his lips to yours, pushing him down on the couch. 

***

If you couldn’t have anything else with Dean, you were going to have sex with him as much as humanly possible. Slowly but surely, he was giving you indications that he was forming feelings for you, too. 

Dean started staying the night around a week into the two of you hooking up. You were pleasantly surprised when he’d hold you while you slept, too. The sex became more passionate as opposed to rough and hard, even though you thoroughly enjoyed both. He asked you questions about your upbringing and your job, and was giving you every signal that he was interested in you for more than just sex. 

And then, he disappeared. You called him several times, but you never got an answer. To say you were crushed was an understatement. 

Even though you’d only known Dean for three weeks, you were falling hard for him. He had an effect on you that no one else did. Dean was kind, compassionate, funny, smart, and although immature at times, he had all the makings of a wonderful man and partner. And just like that, he left. No word, no note— nothing. Just the night before he was telling you how glad he was that he met you. Maybe that should have been a sign that something was wrong, but you supposed hindsight was 20/20. 

At work that day, you were a complete mess of smudged eyeliner, knotted hair pulled back in a claw clip, and puffy eyes from crying. 

“You good, (Y/N/N)?” one of your coworkers asked when she found you on your smoke break. 

The cigarette trembled between your fingers, and tears poured down your cheeks. Your only response was a frantic head nod. 

She gave you a deadpan look. “What’s wrong?” she asked. 

Holding the cigarette away from your face, you scrubbed your hand over your eyes. “Just this fucking guy.”

She grimaced, sucking in air through her teeth. “Shit. That’ll do it.”

“Yeah,” you sniffed. “On top of everything else that’s fucking falling apart in my life, I thought—” you cut yourself off, sighing. “Whatever. He’s a dick.” You took in a deep breath, trying to steel your nerves, and took a puff of your cigarette. You let out all the air and smoke from your lungs and turned to face your friend. “I gotta get back. I’m sure table twenty-five needs another fucking bucket of Michelob.” Having smoked almost the entire cigarette, you dropped it on the ground and stomped out the remaining embers.

Your coworker laughed as you opened the back door to the kitchen for her. “Let me know if you need anything,” she told you. 

Nodding, you smiled in thanks for her kindness.

***

Truthfully, you were drowning. Bills just kept piling up, two more job applications had fallen through, and the restaurant had been slowing down on the weekdays steadily since summer ended. Tips were shitty, and your situation had gotten so bad, you’d need to start working a second job and taking the bus to work. If you couldn’t find a second job or a job your degree suited soon, you were screwed.

After yet another fight with your parents over how much of a screw-up you were in comparison to your brother and sister, you were done. You needed something to numb the world out. None of your friends were able to go out, seeing as it was a weeknight, and they all had “real” jobs. 

And so, you sat on your couch and drank alone. You didn’t want to run up your power bill any more than it would already be this month, so you sat in silence with candles lit as you drank. Your logical mind knew this was a horrible idea— combining emotional exhaustion, fire hazards, and alcohol— but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

***

Your next late-night escapade with drinking came when you discovered you could numb out the feeling of being hungry with alcohol. The fridge and pantry were virtually empty, and you hadn’t had enough time or spare change to go to the grocery store after barely scraping by on rent and your bills the week prior. 

Drinking also helped you to sleep through breakfast, so the only time you really needed to eat was lunch before going to work. You’d stopped responding to your friends’ texts, and your routine didn’t consist of anything aside from working, drinking, and applying to jobs. 

The weeks droned by, and despite the chaos in your life, your thoughts were still of Dean. Why did he have so much power over you? You didn’t even really know him, and here you were, a complete fucking mess because he left without a word. You knew you couldn’t have been in love with him; maybe infatuation was a better way to describe your feelings for him. 

Finally, your friend, Melanie, came over to drag you out of your misery. She did your hair and makeup, forced you to eat something, and brought you out on a Saturday night with your friend group. Her kindness was very much appreciated, and you thanked her profusely for it. 

Your night out with your friends relit a bit of a fire in you. What kept you on even more of a high note was the interview you had a few days later at a bar. It had gone incredibly well, and the manager told you to expect a call very soon. Hope filled your chest at the thought of being able to have more than just a few cents left in your pocket after the monthly billing period. 

***

You’d done it. You got the job! Your friends took you out once again as a celebration, and you felt like you were finally getting back to your old self. However, that was when your friends noticed something was wrong. You’d never been the friend to get blackout drunk; you were always holding your friends’ hair back while they threw up in the bathroom. And yet, you were as sloppily drunk as ever. 

The next thing to catch their attention was you stumbling over to them with a seemingly arrogant prick’s arm around you. 

“Guys,” you swallowed, “guys! This is…” you trailed off, not exactly sure what his name was. “Sorry, handsome, what’s your name?”

That was when another of your friends, Syriah, pulled you aside and away from the man. “(Y/N), what is wrong with you?” she asked. 

Your eyes were immediately dewey. “What? What’d I do wrong?”

“Babe, you’re all over the place. What’s happening to you?” she asked compassionately, steadying you with her hands on your shoulders. 

Tears slipped down your cheeks. “I don’t know,” you said earnestly, collapsing onto her shoulder when she pulled you into a tight hug. “I don’t like how this feels, Riah.”

She petted your hair and just held you against her. “Look, I’ll get you a cab. We just need to get you home safe, okay?”

You nodded into her shoulder, still hiccuping. 

Once you got back to your apartment, you flopped down across the couch. Against your better judgment, you called Dean. Of course, he didn’t answer, so you left a voicemail. “Hey! Hi, Dee.” Your voice sounded funny because your cheek was pressed against your couch, and you laughed at yourself. “Sorry for calling, I, um—” you swallowed harshly, “I just miss you. A lot. And I don’t know why. ‘Cause I kinda hate you for leaving me, y’know? Like, what the— what the fuck is wrong with you? I’m a catch, okay.” You paused, hiccuping. “And another thing, it’s rude to leave without saying anything. I thought we were better friends than just fuck buddies. Why wouldn’t you— why wouldn’t you say something? Anything?” Sniffles and tears escaped you. “You suck, okay? But also, I miss your dick. Bring it back, okay? But fuck you.” And then, you hung up. 

***

Thankfully, you woke up just in time the next day to get to your new job for training. You looked like a complete trainwreck, but you did your best to smooth out your hair and conceal the bags under your eyes on the bus ride there. 

You went about working absentmindedly and did your best to smile and joke around with your trainer. After an exhausting day with little time to recount the events of the night before, you went back to your apartment to catch up on sleep. However, your nighttime routine was interrupted by frantic knocks on your door. 

“Alright, alright I’m—” You cut yourself off, mouth going slack when you found Dean standing in front of your apartment. 

“Dean?” you breathed out. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smirked awkwardly. 

You suddenly snapped yourself out of your surprise and became incredibly angry. “You have a lot of fucking nerve showing up here, do you know that? What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. Can we— Can we just talk, please?”

“Why should I even give you the time of day?!” you snarked incredulously. 

“ ‘Cause you told me you miss me. And my dick,” he tried to charm you. 

You scoffed. “What?! No, I didn’t.”

He clicked his tongue. “Yeah, you did. In your voicemail last night.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you remembered flashes of leaving that horrifically embarrassing voicemail. “Oh, fuck.” You dropped your face toward the floor, pinching your temples and thinking. “You’ve got five minutes,” you finally told Dean, letting him into your apartment. 

“Look,” Dean began while you closed the door behind him, “I didn’t wanna leave.”

You scoffed again. 

“I know. But I had to,” he explained. 

“Why?” you asked. “If you had to leave, fine, but why couldn’t you at least call me back?”

“Because this isn’t good! For either of us,” he responded, voice rising slightly. 

“Why?!” you pressed. “And what gives you the right to make that decision for me?!”

“Because I can’t give you what you want!” Dean argued. “I can’t stay for longer than a few weeks at a time. I can’t. And I can’t tell you why. And I’m making that decision because I know you won’t make that decision for yourself.” 

“You don’t know me, Dean! We hooked up, for like, two fucking weeks!” you laughed incredulously. “I am perfectly capable of making decisions for myself, thank you!”

“I do know you. God, we are so much alike, and that’s just another reason why we don’t fucking work,” he responded. Then, Dean’s voice quieted considerably. “And, sweetheart, it’s not that I don’t want you. ‘Cause I do.”

“But we can’t see each other. ‘Cause you’ll just leave again,” you nodded, hugging yourself protectively. 

Dean nodded, his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry I left like I did.”

“I’m sorry I called you,” you told him. 

He shook his head, eyes still fixed to the floor. “Don’t be.” Tears began to cloud your vision, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “What are you still doing here, Dean?”

He didn’t respond for a moment. When he finally spoke, your breath caught in your throat. “I don’t wanna leave you.”

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. Through the rest of the night, the two of you apologized and made up and apologized again with deep kisses, your bodies connecting, and words murmured through shuddering breaths. 

***

To your surprise, Dean was still in your bed the next morning with his arms wrapped around you. As much as you were angry at him for a little over two months, the night you shared and words you exchanged had you forgiving him easily. 

He hummed, alerting you that he was awake, before promptly pulling you closer to him and burying his face in your neck. You giggled as Dean’s breath tickled your neck, and he peppered kisses against your skin.

“Mornin’,” his deep voice rumbled against you. 

“Mm, morning,” you replied, a smile stretching across your face. You bit your lip, and you tugged at Dean’s hair while he sucked a dark mark onto your collar bone. “I better be able to cover that up with my work uniform, or I swear to god, asshole—”

“It’ll be fine,” Dean replied, kissing your collarbone. “You got work today?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “New job.”

“Oh, wow! Good for you,” he told you, picking his face up from your neck. 

“Eh, just another gig to make ends meet. Bar this time, though.”

“And the other one you work at’s a—”

“Restaurant—”

“—restaurant, right.” 

You smiled at the fact that he remembered. “I’m working, like, fifty hours a week, now. But I gotta keep my lights on, y’know?”

“Jesus, that’s a lot,” Dean grimaced.

“What about you? You never told me what you do for work,” you told him. 

“I don’t,” he replied quickly.

“Oh, god. Just what every girl wants to hear,” you joked. 

Dean chuckled. “My dad’s settin’ me up to take over the family business since Sammy’s off to be a lawyer, or whatever.”

“Family business?” you prompted, hoping he’d explain a little bit more. 

“Yeah,” he responded. You could tell he was dodging your question, but you wouldn’t make him talk if he didn’t want to. “For now, I’m just road-trippin’. Makin’ the most of my youth.”

“Well, I don’t know that hangin’ out with a girl like me is ‘making the most of your youth’,” you joked. 

“What?” he replied. “You’re awesome, what are you talking about?”

You shrugged, getting out of your bed. Dean’s eyes followed you as you moved around your room trying to get yourself ready for the work day ahead. “I mean, I ain’t got much. Two bucks to my name, a useless ass college degree, fifty-thousand dollars in debt, and two siblings with a long list of accolades that make me look like literal sewer trash in comparison.”

Dean nodded. “In case you haven’t noticed, sweetheart, I’m pretty much in the same boat.”

You turned to him while you brushed your hair, struck by his words. “Yeah,” you nodded. “I guess you are.” A smile began to tug at your lips. “Makes me feel a little better knowing I’m not the only disappointment to their bloodline out there.”

Dean laughed. “Amen to that.” He then noticed the bottle of beer you’d pulled from the fridge across the small studio apartment from his position on the bed. “Whoa. Little early for that, isn’t it?”

You shrugged, “It’s five o’clock somewhere, I guess,” and took a large swig. 

***

That day at work had been okay, and you were exhausted when you got back to your apartment. Dean was coming over, but you told him ahead of time that there would be no sex happening since you needed to get up early the next day. He’d given a petulant yet funny response but seemed eager to get over to you. 

And that was how your routine continued for a few days.  He would come over after you got off work, you’d have sex, rinse, and repeat. Then, after a particularly rough day, Dean found you indulging in the binge drinking habit you’d adopted. 

He burst through the door to your apartment concerned only to find you watching the television with a beer in your hand. “Holy shit, (Y/N), why the fuck didn’t you answer?” Dean then seemed to notice the several empty bottles on your coffee table. 

“I just didn’t wanna talk tonight, Dean, take the fucking hint,” you grumbled before finishing off the bottle in your hands. 

“Okay, you’re cut off,” he told you, trying to help you up from the couch. 

You jerked your arm away from him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Dean seemed angry, but his expression melted into something else. “How long has this been goin’ on?”

You scoffed. “Why do you care?” The words came out slurred. “You’re not my boyfriend or anything.”

“Dammit, (Y/N), that shouldn’t matter,” Dean insisted. “You know this isn’t good for you, right?”

A laugh escaped you. “You said the same thing about you, and you’re still here, aren’t you?”

That caught Dean off-guard, and he was silent, for once. 

“Just go away, Dean,” you said quietly. 

And he did. 

***

The next day, you were horrified by your actions. You called Dean once; no answer. The second time you called, there was still no answer, but you left a voicemail. “Dean? Dean, I’m so sorry. I— I remember what I said to you last night. God, that was fucking horrible of me. Please come back. I’m so sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll talk to you later, please?” You hung up, running a hand through your hair. 

You did the only thing you could think to do in the moment and pulled out another beer. Your tolerance had certainly increased since you started binge drinking, and a bottle in the morning had become the equivalent to a cup of coffee. 

Against your better judgment, you called out of work. You needed the money from both shifts you were scheduled for today, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in. 

Finally, Dean called back. 

“Dean!” you squeaked as soon as you answered the phone. “God, I’m so sorry—”

“I know you are,” he told you. The silence between you was thick; neither of you completely sure what to say. “How long you been actin’ like Lebowski?”

That actually made you laugh despite the perhaps tone-deaf nature of the joke. “Meh, I’ve always liked to drink.” You considered your next words carefully. “It, uh, it started after you left.”

Silence encapsulated the two of you again. 

“I’m so sorry,” was all Dean could say to you. 

“No, no no!” you said. “It’s not your fault. I’m just a fucking mess, ‘s all.”

“Yeah, but if I would’ve picked up the fucking phone—”

“Dean,” you asserted. “It’s not your fault.”

He sighed heavily. “I’ll be over later, okay?”

“Okay.”

You took the day to try and get yourself together a bit. By the time Dean arrived, the apartment was sparkling, the empty beer bottles were picked up, and your hair and face had been washed. 

Dean smirked lopsidedly when he noticed the work you’d been doing. “Good for you, sweetheart.”

***

That night, it was taking both you and Dean much longer than usual to fall asleep. 

“What’s on your mind?” you asked him quietly. 

“I’m not a good person, (Y/N),” he said, voice barely above a whisper. 

“What?” you asked, putting your hand on the side of his face. However, he wouldn’t turn it up to look at you. “How could you say that?”

“I shouldn’t have left you,” he said. 

“Dean, we already talked about this—”

“No,” he cut you off. “I meant last night.”

“Oh,” you replied, stomach flipping.

“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” Dean reiterated. “I just— I got so angry. ‘Cause you’re right. I’m not good for you. And it’s selfish of me to keep you on the hook like this.”

You felt your heart cracking in your chest. “Dean, I have no idea what we are or what we’ve been doing, but…”

“I know,” he said. “I care about you a lot, too.”

“But we’re not good for each other,” you admitted quietly. “I can’t— I can’t be what you deserve.” You swallowed harshly, tears brimming your eyes. “I’ve got too much shit going on. I can’t—”

Dean cut you off again. “I know,” he said, seeming like he was crying, too. “And I’m gonna have to keep leaving. And I don’t wanna leave. I don’t— I don’t know how to be alone.” Dean’s admission broke your heart, and you grabbed his hand. “I can’t give you a relationship. There’s just— There’s no room in my life for that.”

Your lip was trembling, but you tried your best to force your next words out. “It’s okay,” you said, even though it definitely didn’t feel okay. 

“I don’t wanna just keep having sex while you’re in the state you’re in,” Dean continued. “That’s not fair to you.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

He snorted, caught off-guard. “What?”

“Thank you. ‘Cause I wouldn’t have been able to tell you to go,” you said. “You were right.”

“I know you, (Y/N). I see too much of myself in you,” he admitted. “And I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” 

A long moment passed between the two of you, the only noise coming from the window unit in your apartment.

“I’ll be gone when you wake up,” Dean told you, holding you against him. 

As much as your heart was breaking, you stayed resting against Dean’s chest, the rising and falling of it soothing you to sleep. 

When the sunlight streamed through the curtains and hit your eyes, you realized Dean followed through with his promise.

***

Four years went by. The first one had dragged as you healed yourself from your addiction and the loss of Dean. Admittedly, you’d tried several times to get in contact with him, but the number had been disconnected. The next year, you began to feel happy again. You’d gotten a steady job, had tons of alcohol-free fun with your friends, and generally had a more positive outlook on life. 

That third year, though, your life would change forever. The world of monsters, spirits, and demons was unveiled to you when your sister was found dead. The police arrested her husband since your mother had told them the couple had been having problems in the months leading up to her death, but you knew your brother-in-law wouldn’t do that. Everyone insisted you were just in denial, but your gut told you there was something else going on. 

The way she died raised red flags for you, too. It almost looked like she’d been mauled by an animal, and some of her organs were missing. Her husband was a relatively stable person; no way was he capable of something like that. And if he was, where were her organs? Why would he have left her on the living room floor in a pool of her own blood? Why did he call the cops himself? Nothing was adding up in your mind. 

As any person desperate for answers would, you turned to a psychic. She introduced you to the idea that your sister had died being attacked by a werewolf. At first, you laughed, insisting she was crazy. When all the evidence was presented to you, though, it was the only explanation that made sense. 

From that moment forward, you trained and researched relentlessly to try your hand at hunting. You knew that going it alone would be dangerous, but there wasn’t exactly anyone else in your life you could talk to about what you knew. 

The day after you met with the medium, you abandoned your apartment, cell phone, laptop, and car, and hit the road. 

A year into your new life of motel rooms and gas station dinners between ghost hunts, your job brought you to Wisconsin where a college athlete drowned in a lake outside her home. You’d already interviewed the girl’s father and brother as well as the local police chief that morning. Around one o’clock, you were starving and headed out of your room to get some lunch. 

When you rounded the corner of the building to head to your car parked in the front lot, you slammed into a wall of solid muscle. The man grunted, as did you. 

“Oh my god, I’m so—” you cut yourself off when you realized who you were looking at. 

“(Y/N)?” he breathed out. 

“Hi, Dean.”

Forever taglist is open! :)

[junabuggy]

Hi! I love your writing! Would you be up for writing a fic where reader has super bad separation anxiety from Al, but he has to go somewhere without them and either Angel Dust or Husk is in charge of taking care of them/keeping them calm while he’s gone? Thanks a bunch!!! ❤️

Separation anxiety! GN! Reader x Alastor/husker?

A/n: Of course !! Honestly this has been super fun and I’m more than grateful for all the people who seem to enjoy my silly little fanfictions/headcanons, many thanks everybody ♥️♥️

Also, if you couldn’t tell from a lot of my writing, I’ve taken quite a liking to Alastor… So I get it, I love him too y’all ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Warnings: Mentions of separation anxiety, Mentions of alcohol, Alastor being Alastor so light mentions of blood and cannibalism (doesn’t actually happen)

Fluff✔️ Comfort✔️ Angst❌ Smut❌

Hope yall don’t mind a few headcanons first about this :33

📻𖤐 it’s hard to tell how Alastor would realistically react to someone being attached to him in that way..

📻𖤐 Like do I think it would bother him? No, he wouldn’t mind you tagging along wherever he went as long as you didn’t bother him too much or get in the way of things but there are just times where he requires or wants to be alone. Which is where Husker would come in lol

📻𖤐 He probably wouldn’t leave you with Angel, even if Husk wasn’t available for whatever reason he’d just get Charlie to look after you while he was away.

📻𖤐 I feel like he cares/loves in an odd way.. like he wants to tear you apart and lick up all your delicious, sweet blood but in an affectionate way??? If that makes sense?? Remember that pomegranate cannibalism metaphor that went around on TikTok for a bit there? Think that.

📻𖤐 of course, he wouldn’t do that, he wants to keep you around.

Okok I’m done yapping about silly radio man lol, onto the fic

Unfortunately, today was one of those days you couldn’t tag along with where Alastor went, he was attending an overlord meeting and obviously you not being an overlord it meant that you couldn’t go with him despite all of your protests and begging.

Before his departure, he sat you down at the bar with Husker and gave you a little pat on the head, telling you that he’d be back shortly and walking out of the hotel doors.

The grumpy cat demon poured himself a drink as he stared at you, this wasn’t exactly the first time Alastor had left him on “babysitting” duty with you and he didn’t exactly mind it. You were quite sweet for somebody who landed themselves in a place like hell.

“Where’s he off to this time?” Husker asked before taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage he held in his hand, attempting to make some form of conversation with you.

“Oh.. just some kind of silly overlord meeting…” You mumbled out a short reply whilst looking a bit glum. He simply nodded in response, setting his glass down on the bar countertop to mix you up a little something as well.

Husk didn’t understand your attachment to the Radio Demon to be completely frank with you. He and a lot of others viewed Alastor as something to fear, respect, and try to avoid contact with the best they could… so seeing someone who enjoyed his company was a foreign idea to him. But he wouldn’t judge you for it. It wasn’t exactly his business anyways and at least he seemed to treat you decently.

“Don’t stress it kid, he’ll be back soon. He keeps his promises I’ll give him that much.” Husk attempted to reassure you, giving a slight smile as he slid a drink down to you.

You smiled back weakly and nodded, taking a deep breath as you grabbed the drink he had slid over to you. You took a sip and it tasted like a screwdriver, not too bad of a drink and it would probably take your mind off of things a little bit if you had a few of them. Which was probably the goal Husker was trying to reach.. he couldn’t imagine separation anxiety to be very fun.

Later into the night once you got a few drinks in you, you started to forget all about why you were upset and/or stressed out in the first place. Chatting with Husk about random stuff and occasionally mentioning and talking about a person or two.

Husk wished there were more nights like this, more time spent with you… and who knows? Maybe you’ll be visiting the bar more often for him after tonight if he was lucky. He was pretty good at playing his cards right, after all.

(Sorry this was kinda short !! I wasn’t sure what else to write. Lmk if you guys maybe want a part two with Alastor coming back from his little meeting, I might do that :3)

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲

[campingwiththecharmings]

Can't Hold Back

AN: Hey y'all! This is kind of an unofficial sequel to Down Time, in the sense that I was thinking of while writing but made no actual references to it lol. ANYWAY. This was written for @triplefrontier-anniversary! Hope y’all enjoy 🥰

(Un-beta’d)

You can’t go on like this, having him but not having him. You want more, you deserve more…

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,554 Pairing: Santiago “Pope” Garcia x F!Reader Warnings: Very light on the plot here lol, friends (who are secretly in love with each other) with benefits, p in v, a smidge of angst then cliche fluffy fluff (please let me know if i missed anything). AO3

——————

Santiago fucks into you, his thrusts slow and deep, his body draped over yours as you cling to him, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to stifle your moans. He buries his face in your neck, muffling his groan as he loses himself in your warmth. He mouths at you, his tongue dragging over your sweat-slicked skin before coming to rest just below your ear. 

“Feel so good, cariño,” he slurs, his voice low and raspy. “Feels like heaven when I’m inside you.” 

Your cunt clenches at his words and he grunts, his movements stuttering slightly. Your chest heaves in an effort to stay quiet, knowing your friends are sleeping just on the other side of the thin walls of your shared vacation rental. They didn’t know about you and Santi, didn’t know that you’d been secretly fucking for months, didn’t know that you were head-over-heels in love with him. 

To be fair though, Santi didn’t know that last bit either. 

Your arrangement had been fun when it started, had scratched the proverbial itch, but as time had gone on, you’d started to want more. The sex was great, but you hated when it ended. Not just because it was over, but because one of you always left. That had been part of the arrangement: no staying the night. So you didn’t, he didn’t, and you ignore that ache you feel in your chest every time he rolls off your bed and starts putting on his clothes, ignore the queasiness that roils in your belly when he leans in and kisses the side of your head gently in goodbye, ignore the way your heart cracks as the door to your apartment clicks shut and you’re left in silence, alone. 

You’d been planning to tell him, tell him that you couldn’t do this anymore, that you wanted (needed) more, more with him…but then he’d started kissing you and every other thought had flown right out the window. So here you were, writhing in pleasure beneath him as he played your body like a well-loved instrument, willing yourself to stay quiet so as to not alert the rest of your friend group. You shiver, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers the filthiest things. The sound of his voice, coupled with his words, pushes you higher and higher, and you whimper softly as you near the edge, your cunt fluttering around his cock.  

Santi shushes you gently, pulling back a little to watch you, his dark eyes heavy and blown wide with lust. Your gaze locks with his, and you swallow hard to keep your moans at bay, your lips parting and releasing a soft, strangled sound. He pulls his lip between his teeth, nostrils flaring as he breathes hard through his nose, his body moving steadily over you. 

As you watch him, the moonlight illuminating him from behind like an angel, you’re struck with the urge to cry. No, not just cry, full on sob. You can’t go on like this, having him but not having him. You want more, you deserve more…but you’re worried. Worried about how ending this will affect your friendship, that you’ll have to put up with seeing him date other women (or worse, that he won’t care when you start dating). You want to be present, be in the moment, want to enjoy yourself if this really is to be the last time. Even so, you can’t stop the tears as they slide down your cheeks, can’t stop the weight pressing on your chest, can’t stop the fracturing of your heart. A strange combination of euphoria and sorrow war within you, and you can’t do much more than ride it out, can’t do much more than cling to him like it’s the last time you’ll ever hold him (because it likely is). 

He must notice your crying because he suddenly leans in, whispering comforting words that don’t really register in your brain as he kisses away your tears. He presses his forehead to yours, pushing you closer and closer to your peak, grinding his hips into yours and making you see stars. 

You whimper softly as you come, your body shaking, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure washes over you. Santiago leans in, smothering his moans in your neck as you squeeze him, pulling him closer to the edge until his body stiffens, his sticky warmth coating your inner walls. The urge to wrap yourself around him, to keep him with you, keep him inside you, is so strong, but you resist, knowing it won’t make a difference.  

Santi pulls back, smiling softly as he gazes down at you. You try to smile back, thankful for the darkness of the room as it means he can’t see the tears that are still leaking from the corners of your eyes. He swipes his thumbs over your cheeks and pauses, his lips twitching down when he feels the wetness there. 

“Estás bien, cariño?” he whispers, his eyes quickly darting over your face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

You shake your head, willing your tears to stop falling. 

“I’m okay,” you say, forcing a smile, “Just emotional, I guess.” 

He grunts, and you can tell he’s not buying it. You never were very good at lying. 

You do your best not to look at him for too long, knowing the longer he looks, the more likely it is that he’ll see, see it all, everything you’re trying to hide, trying to bury. Just when you think he’s going to let it go, you feel his hand cup your cheek. 

“Look at me,” he whispers, his breath fanning across your cheek. 

You try not to, really you do but, when it comes to Santi, you just can’t help yourself. 

Your resolve crumbles the moment your eyes meet his, the words you’ve held back all these months spilling from between your lips like water from a broken dam. Tears blur your vision so much that you can’t really tell what effect your words are having on him, but you suppose that it doesn’t really matter in the end. You can feel yourself spiraling, your chest heaving with barely suppressed sobs, when Santi’s finger presses against your lips halts your descent. 

“Did…you just say you loved me?” he asks softly, his voice and face unreadable. 

Icy dread slices through you at the question. Had you said that? That you loved him? You don’t remember, but you must’ve, right? You panic, stuttering as you try to explain, your brain racing a million miles per hour as you search for the right words…but it turns out you don’t need them. 

Santiago stops your lips again, this time with his own. 

You’ve kissed him a thousand times before now but, somehow this time it’s different, this time it feels different. He takes his time, his kiss somehow both gentle and deep, like he’s pouring everything he has into it. He pulls away before you can kiss him back, a faint glimmer of something unfamiliar shining in his eyes when he meets yours again. 

“I love you too,” he rasps, smiling down at you softly. 

Your eyes widen a little, searching for the truth of his words in the darkness. “You do?” 

He chuckles, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I do.”

You exhale sharply, a relieved laugh slipping from between your lips before you can stop it. You clap your hand over your mouth in surprise as Santiago’s smile widens, his eyes shining. You spend the next few hours wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about everything and nothing, content to just be.  

You wake hours later to the sun streaming in through the windows and Santiago’s warmth at your back, your still-naked bodies tangled in the sheets and blankets. His arms are wrapped loosely around you, his face pressed into the back of your neck, and you can’t help the mix of relief and giddiness you feel knowing it wasn’t all some crazy fever dream. Your eye lashes flutter as sleep tries to call you back, the warm tendrils reaching for you, pulling gently— 

Until the sound of someone clearing their throat drags you back to full consciousness. 

Your head snaps toward the sound, your widened eyes meeting amused blue ones. 

Santi stirs behind you, sighing softly as he presses a kiss against the base of your neck and rasps, “Morning.”

“Mornin’,” Benny responds, a smug smile on his lips as he takes in the sight of the two of you tangled in each other. 

You feel Santi pause briefly before turning to meet his gaze.  

“Breakfast is gettin’ cold,” Benny continues, suggestively pumping his eyebrows as he backs out of the room, leaving the door wide open. 

Benny walks back to the kitchen, his footsteps thunking loudly against the wooden floor of the house as he calls out something about the other guys owing him a hundred dollars.  

Santi snorts behind you, pushing his face against your shoulder as he dissolves into laughter, and you can’t help but follow suit. 

“Guess we should go deal with that,” you chuckle, looking over your shoulder at him. 

He smiles, his eyes shining with laughter as he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. “Guess we should, cariño.”

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[midnightwriter21]

jjk hcs: their fav pet names for you

characters: reader x gojo, sukuna, fushiguro, itadori, nanami

warnings: language (i be cussing a lot sry), suggestive in gojo’s but not rly

AN: first jjk post!! hope it doesn’t flop lollllll

GOJO

pet names he calls you: sweet thang, sugar, princess, babe, mrs. gojo

now u alrdy knew before even reading that his goofy ass has a million an one pet names for you lol

but anyways

he’s got a MAJORRR sweet tooth hehe

like bro is always snackin on something sugary

hence the pet names sweet thang and sugar

“whatchu doin sweet thang” holding up his blindfold so you can see him wink at u lmfao

but when he calls u sugar i imagine him doin it the way those sweet old southern ladies say it if ykwim lmao

now

princess and babe are much more casual

like he’s calling out “babe i’m home!” when he gets back from a mission

or y’all are at the school and he’s calling for you even tho he 100% alrdy knows exactly where u are bc of ur cursed energy “princesssssssss where are youuuuuu??”

and mrs. gojo is used in either a VERY romantic situation when he’s tryna rizz u up

or

he’s tryna embarrass you in front of the students

there is no in between

“well, me and mrs. gojo gotta head out! she has stuff to do!”

“satoru.. we are not married. my last name isn’t gojo.”

“… yet” 😼

“and what stuff do i have to do?”

“me. i’m stuff.” 😼

*que megumi, yuji, and nobara fake gagging in the background*

SUKUNA

pet names he calls you: my queen, darling

he’s the king of curses so the first one should be self explanatory

cmon every king needs a queen yk

now he’s powerful as hell right

bro demands respect for himself

but let somebody say som to you in the wrong tone

girl rip that person fr

“you dare to speak to my queen that way?” and he’s busting their ass

also that’s how he introduces you to everybody

introduces himself first. and then hits them w the “and this is my queen, (y/n)”

darling is more of a laid back casual pet name

but he uses it all the mf time

“come here, darling”

“you look beautiful as always, darling”

“darling, you are the one that is important to me.”

darling darling darling

FUSHIGURO

pet names he calls you: babe, love, sweetheart

he likes to keep it simple

most of the time he just calls you by your name

def keeps the pet names to a minimum in public

or when he’s around his friends

especially when he’s around gojo lol

i mean cmon the second he calls u a pet name and gojo overhears?

poor thing is being teased til he’s bright red with embarrassment

in private tho?

ur real name almost never leaves his mouth lmfao

it’s “babe can you do this?” “come take a nap with me, love” “what are you doin, sweetheart”

idk i just know he’s soft for u

ITADORI

pet names he calls you: baby, cutie, peaches/peach

this man loves you and isn’t afraid to show it!!

NEVER uses ur real name

EVER

baby and cutie are his casual nicknames ofc

for things he’s sayin to u in passing

he’s hugging u from behind with a “hey cutie”

or when he’s whining abt something lol

“cmon baby you can’t be mad at me forever”

but he uses peach and peaches the most

the man likes ass

he said it himself

it’s canon

so ofc he’s referring to your “big juicy ass” his words not mine when he calls you that lmfaooo

but it also cute asf

“come peach get dressed! i’m taking you to watch a movie with me!”

NANAMI

pet names he calls you: sweetheart, darling, my love, honey

I. LOVE. HIM.

i rly don’t even have any reasoning behind his usage of these pet names they just fit him

he’s such a serious, sophisticated, gentleman

so of course he takes his relationship with you seriously as well

makes sure that you know he adores you

his love language is words of affirmation ik it

gojo jokes that y’all talk to each other like an old married couple

which u do

but it’s cute!!!

it’s the middle of the night and he has to leave for a mission and wake you up on accident?

“sorry, sweetheart, go back to sleep. i’ll be home soon”

he gets home from the mission and as soon as he opens the door he hits you w the cliche

“honey, i’m home!”

this next one is an every day occurrence

and i MEAN EVERYDAY

“good morning, my love” IN HIS DEEP MORNING VOICE meowwww

and y’all go on a date an you get dressed up for it?

“you look absolutely stunning, darling”