#Collar Neck T-Shirts
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5 Easy Ways to Rock Mens Collar Neck T-Shirts and Stay Ahead of Fashion Trends!
Looking to elevate your wardrobe with a blend of style and comfort? Look no further than Wilqet Mens Collar Neck T-Shirts! These versatile pieces can easily transform your casual look into a sophisticated one while keeping you comfortable all year long. Here’s how you can style them to stay ahead of the fashion curve.
Pair with Tailored Trousers for a Smart-Casual Look
The beauty of Mens Collar Neck T-Shirts is in their versatility. For a sharp, semi-formal look, pair a full-sleeve collar neck T-shirt with tailored trousers. Opt for neutral shades like black, navy, or grey from Wilqet collection to achieve a clean, polished appearance perfect for work or casual meetings. The structured collar adds sophistication, while the comfortable fabric ensures you're ready for all-day wear.
Layer with a Blazer for Effortless Elegance
Need a quick way to transition from day to night? Simply layer your Mens Collar Neck T-Shirt with a well-fitted blazer. Wilqet T-shirts, designed for all-season comfort, blend effortlessly under a blazer, giving you a refined look without sacrificing comfort. Choose darker colors like charcoal or maroon to enhance the sleekness of the ensemble. The full sleeves add depth to your outfit, making it perfect for semi-formal events or a dinner out.
Team with Jeans for the Ultimate Casual Style
For a laid-back yet stylish look, pair your Mens Collar Neck T-Shirt with a classic pair of jeans. Whether you prefer straight-leg or slim-fit jeans, Wilqet’s T-shirts will complement them perfectly. Choose from a variety of colors like royal blue, olive, or white to keep your casual wardrobe fresh and on-trend. The collar neck elevates the otherwise relaxed vibe, giving you an effortlessly cool look.
Accessorize to Make a Statement
Accessories can take your outfit to the next level. Whether it's a sleek watch, a pair of sunglasses, or a leather belt, adding a few simple accessories can enhance your Collar Neck T-Shirt outfit. Wilqet’s versatile designs allow you to experiment with different looks, from minimalist to bold. Choose a fitted full-sleeve T-shirt in a solid color like black or navy, and let your accessories do the talking.
Tuck It into Chinos for a Refined Look
Tucking a Collar Neck T-Shirt into chinos is an excellent way to redefine casual wear with a touch of sophistication. This look is perfect for lunch dates or casual office wear. Opt for full-sleeve T-shirts in earthy tones like brown or beige, and pair them with slim-fit chinos for a well-balanced outfit. At Wilqet, you can find the ideal T-shirt that blends comfort with elegance, making it easy to upgrade your style effortlessly.
Sizes and Colors for Every Style
Wilqet offers a variety of sizes ranging from Small to XXL, ensuring a perfect fit for every body type. Our Mens Collar Neck T-Shirts are available in a wide range of colors including black, white, navy blue, olive green, and maroon. Whether you prefer a classic neutral tone or a pop of color, Wilqet has something to match every occasion.
Shop Now for the Best Collar Neck Full Sleeve T-Shirts
Ready to elevate your style? Head over to Wilqet online store and discover the best collection of Mens Collar Neck T-Shirts. Enjoy the convenience of online shopping and add a touch of sophistication to your wardrobe with just a click.
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I had to stop taking my adhd medication a few years back because it made my sensory issues significantly worse. I finally decided to try a different one, with the idea that this particular med would help with my sleep disorder as well, and I fear the same thing is happening again. I can feel Every piece of lint and cat hair touching my skin and I’m losing my minddddd. this was one of the exact problems I had with the last one, and it let up as soon as I stopped taking it 😭 WHY am I only allowed executive function OR a manageable level of sensory sensitivity!!!!! evil!!!!
#my executive functioning capabilities are truly abysmal rn so what is a girl to do!!!#i literally stretched out the collars of all my t-shirts the last time this happened bc i could always feel fibers and hair tickling my neck#so i’d run my hands along the neckline trying to find whatever i was feeling#but like i have cats and my own hair sheds a ton so there’s like never Not hair on me 💀#and i just became so sensitive to it that i was constantly pulling on my collar to the point that i basically ruined all my shirts#bc fun fact a stretched out collar ALSO tickles and is a sensory nightmare 💀#there are two wolves inside me#(adhd and autism)#and like i want them to be friends soooooo bad but those bitches hate each other!!!#the disabilities continue to disable me it seems who would’ve thought :/#ked rambles
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Men’s T-shirts: Stylish In Blue Splash
Men’s T-shirts are a staple wardrobe, upgrade it by adding blue t-shirts to apparel. This transforms a basic closet into a fashion statement. T-shirts for men are available in round neck and collar neck, but the vibrant blue color offers a refined twist that effortlessly enhances the outfit’s appeal. These T-shirts are a go-to choice for casual settings or laid-back gatherings. This article discusses how to style blue t-shirts and stand out confidently.
Men’s T-shirts: Exploring Wardrobe Essential Addition
These Men T-shirts are timeless outfits in every man’s closet because of their ease of styling and maintenance, coziness, and versatility. Let's dive in to discover why t-shirts are wardrobe essentials.
1. Timeless Elegance
T-shirts are meant for everyday wear and even allow a transition from casual to formal wear by adopting appropriate dressing. It has many layering options, including jackets, blazers and sweaters. These are suitable for many events from casual to lounging in the town.
2. Comfort Matters
Usually, T-shirts are designed from breathable fabrics and available in every fit from slim fit to oversized, offering comfort in a stuffy environment.
3. Style And Practicality
Round neck t-shirts and collar tees allow you to style that suit your personality. Even though T-shirts are crafted from premium fabrics, an affordable piece of clothing and don’t require any special kind of washing or maintenance.
4. Wardrobe Staple
T-shirts can be paired with many bottom wear like shorts, chinos, jeans, or cargo pants. The fashion is dynamic, it may change with time but t-shirts remain in wardrobe with updated designs and patterns.
Look For The Following Key Elements To Buy Best T-shirts For Men:
Check Fabric Quality
T-shirts are made from many fabrics such as cotton, polyester, and blended cotton. So check the quality of fabric that makes you comfortable after wearing them.
Fitting Size
An appropriate fitted T-shirt enhances the overall ensemble. Ensure the T-shirt size selected matches your style preference and verify its length.
Go For Well-Tailored T-shirts
When buying T-shirts, look at their stitching, and clean hems. Make sure that t-shirts are well-tailored.
Color Palette
Choose colors as per your personality and preference. Experiment with bold and vibrant color schemes. Just be careful that T-shirts won’t fade color after a few washes.
Price And Brand
When buying T-shirts from the branded store, be sure that a balance is maintained between the price and durability of the T-shirts.
Purpose To Wear
While Buying T-shirts, consider in which event you style, whether at casual or semi-formal occasions.
Blue Round Neck T-shirt: Styling Ideas
A versatile blueround neck t-shirt can be styled for ranging events from casual days out to nights out. Pair it with black or grey jeans, sneakers, and a watch for a casual setting. Combine this T-shirt with a jacket or blazer and loafers to acquire a more polished look. Complement your blue T-shirt with track pants and a cap for athletic activities. Give a trendy touch to your outfit and opt for patterned pants and statement pieces of necklace or bracelet.
Blue Collar T-shirt: Styling Ideas
T-shirts with collar details add a refined touch to the casual look. Blue-collar T-shirts can be paired for many occasions, ranging from casual outings to night hangs with friends. These days, men styled T-shirts for formal settings too. Combine a blue T-shirt with tailored formal pants and a blazer for an office-smart casual look. Opt to pair with dark-shade jeans and accessories for a stylish evening look. Style a blue-collar T-shirt with shorts and sandals for a laid-back weekend.
Conclusion
A blue Men’s T-shirt is a valuable addition to men’s apparel because of its versatility, providing comfort for any event, a touch of refinement, and can be paired with any kind of bottomwear according to mood and occasion. This vibrant hue enhances the overall outfit’s ensemble when complemented with appropriate layering and accessories. Explore Bukkum Athleisure wear store to upgrade your casual wear wardrobe.
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Upto 30% Off on Women T-Shirt online in India. Select from wide range of sleeveless tee shirts, collar t shirt to cotton t shirts & more at American Eagle India. Shop now : https://aeo.abfrl.in/c/women-t-shirts
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#Polo T -Shirts#Polo T shirt for Men#Polo T Shirts for Men#Polo Collar T Shirt#Polo Neck T Shirt#Polo t shirts price in India
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Material: Made from high-quality polyester, ensuring durability and a lightweight feel.
Moisture-Wicking: The fabric is designed to wick away moisture, keeping you dry and comfortable during intense workouts.
Breathable: Enhanced breathability to keep you cool in warm conditions.
Fit: Offers a comfortable fit that is not too tight, allowing for a full range of motion.
Design: Simple yet stylish design that can be paired with various outfits, making it suitable for both active and casual wear.
Easy Maintenance: Polyester material is easy to wash and quick-drying, making it low-maintenance. SHOP NOW
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Enhance your team's image with La Suma's upscale ready-made uniforms in Dubai. Each stitch reflects quality, style, and professionalism.
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Unleashing the Trend: Collar T Shirts for Men
When the sun is shining, and the city is buzzing with activity, there's a distinct style that you'll spot on the trendiest men around town: Collar T-Shirts for Men. This fashionable yet relaxed attire has grown exponentially in popularity and for a good reason. Imagine blending a collared shirt's sophistication with a tee's easygoing nature. That's what Collar T Shirt For Men bring to the table, and today, we'll delve deep into the world of these must-have staples.
Why Collar T-Shirts for Men are a Must-Have Collar T-Shirts, specifically collar polo t shirts, bridge the gap between formal and casual, creating a versatile outfit piece. They are the sort of shirts you can wear for a last-minute brunch with friends or a casual day at the office. The hallmark of the Polo Collar T Shirts is their adaptable style; they fit seamlessly into myriad scenarios.
How to Style Collar T-Shirts Here's where the fun begins. Collar T-Shirts for Men come in a delightful array of colors, patterns, and fabrics, each waiting to be paired with your favorite bottom wear. Here are some trendy ways to style them:
Classic and Cool: Wear a white collar polo t shirt with navy or black chinos. Finish the look with loafers or white sneakers—Timeless and always in vogue.
The Vacation Vibe: Pick a vibrant-colored Polo Collar T Shirt and pair it with shorts. Slide into some sandals, throw on some shades, and you're beach-ready.
Layer It Up: As the weather gets nippier, layer your Collar T-Shirt with a lightweight jacket or cardigan. It provides warmth without compromising on style.
Picking the Perfect Fit When scouting for Collar T-Shirts, it's crucial to find one that fits just right. An overly baggy shirt can look sloppy, while one too tight can be uncomfortable. Aim for a Polo Collar T Shirt that skims your body contours without clinging. Also, the sleeves should hit around the mid-bicep for that perfect laid-back look. Remember, comfort is key.
Colors and Patterns to Play With While the classic white collar polo t shirt will never go out of style, there's no harm in adding some pizzazz to your collection. Think stripes, subtle prints, or even color-blocked designs. Pastel shades are all the rage and can be paired effortlessly with jeans and trousers. On the other hand, darker hues can be reserved for evening outings or more formal events.
Summary: Collar T-Shirts, particularly Collar Polo T-Shirts, are the epitome of relaxed sophistication. Whether you're going for the classic look or want to experiment with patterns and colors, these shirts promise comfort, style, and versatility. And with the ease of online shopping, adding them to your collection has never been simpler.
Conclusion: The world of Collar T-Shirts beckons, offering a style that seamlessly blends comfort with chic. So, the next time you're in a fashion problem, let the collar lead the way!
Authors Bio: The author of this article has a keen interest in fashion and gives productive advice on attire. This conclusion comes with a thorough research for a better understanding of the readers who wish to pursue a new fashionable lifestyle.
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A Guide to Captivating Fashion for Men | Udaipore Online
Explore the captivating world of men's fashion with our guide to Henley T-shirts on Udaipore Online. Discover tips, trends, and styling secrets for a wardrobe upgrade.
#black henley t shirt#henley collar t shirt#henley neck t shirt#henley t shirt#men's henley neck t shirt#mens henley t shirt#white henley t shirt
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made for lovin’ you
older!Eddie Munson x fem!reader
A bad Tinder date gets a whole lot better…
18+ MDNI┃9k
cw: age difference (30s/40s), alcohol, smoking, light choking, softdom!Eddie, face fucking, light hair pulling, fingering, piv sex, finishing inside, and aftercare ‘cos we deserve it ♥️
I’ve been in a Mood and now you all have to suffer.
eddie edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple
Holy shit, was this guy boring.
Not terribly surprising, unfortunately. Your expectations weren’t all that high to begin with. Most of your recent forays into online dating had been yielding overwhelmingly middling results and this one was no exception.
He had seemed perfectly nice on the app, when he was nothing but a handful of generic pictures and a smattering of inoffensive text bubbles. But any appeal he held had been in steady decline the moment he took his seat next to you at the bar.
He looked more scared of you than anything—fumbling his words and constantly having to push up his glasses as they slid down the bridge of his sweaty nose. You did what you could to help him relax, coaxing him into the conversation, asking all of those tedious first date questions.
And every single one, he answered with nothing but curt, clipped responses. Making no attempt whatsoever to follow up or ask you literally one single thing about yourself.
Then you made the fatal mistake of asking about work, and suddenly longed for the wall of silence. As soon as he got the chance, he launched into a long and droning explanation of his research on the behavior of crickets.
Acheta Domesticus, not that you asked. And he didn’t so much as smirk at your gesundheit joke.
You might have called it quits entirely by now…if it wasn’t for the guy at the end of the bar.
He had arrived not fifteen minutes after your date did, and slid smoothly onto a stool directly in your eyeline. Which was good, considering you would have snapped your neck trying to get a look at him otherwise.
In a word, he was beautiful.
Slightly older, with long dark hair that was wavy and ruffled. A short and scruffy beard that only further accentuated the hard line of his jaw where it met the thick, muscular column of his neck.
He was quite literally littered with accessories—a silver hoop that glinted in his nose, leather cuff and chains on his wrists, chunky rings on his fingers that rapped rhythmically on the bar.
Then there were the more permanent accessories in the form of black ink tattoos that covered both his arms and scrawled upwards to peek out from underneath the collar of his t-shirt. A mix of all different styles and designs, ranging in quality from the kitchen scratcher bats on his elbow to the larger and more artful pieces clearly woven in later to complete the tapestry.
You’d certainly never seen him here before, and that was sort of a feat for this place.
West End was one of your favorite places for this sort of date. It was close enough to your place to be convenient, yet far enough that there was no chance of a guy trying to invite himself over to “use the bathroom” or “wait for an Uber” or whatever other excuses they dredged up.
It was actually two businesses in one, sharing the same name, running out of opposite sides of the same building. Causing only mild confusion.
To one side was a wine bar with cozy seating nooks furnished with plush loveseats, sofas and overstuffed armchairs, all a mishmash of vintage styles from thrift shops and flea markets.
But the other side was all modern and industrial—a billiards hall with high ceilings, exposed brick walls, and a large, glossy horseshoe bar that surveyed the tables from the center.
You tended to frequent the wine bar with your roommate Robin whenever you found yourselves in need of a moody atmosphere and some low, soft lighting, your evening scored by the crackle of some great vinyl record. But the other side was better for dates because it automatically gave you the out of an activity in case you found the conversation lacking.
And boy was it lacking tonight.
He regarded the pool tables more like they were live alligators and quickly dismissed your offer to play before launching right back into his overly-detailed explanation of the differences in the eating habits of crickets and grasshoppers. You sighed, no longer attempting to disguise your boredom as you propped your elbow on the bar and rested your chin on your hand.
It wasn’t just that his research was boring—though it was. Really, the problem was all of his technical explanations were so dry and devoid of any emotion that it made you wonder if he even enjoyed it. You had more stimulating interactions with the bartender, for crying out loud.
He was new to you too, but he moved behind the bar with such ease it seemed like he’d worked there for years. He’d introduced himself as Steve, a row of pearly white teeth winking at you as he flashed a smile you were sure had won him his fair share of superlatives in high-school.
His look read more upscale mixologist, sporting a dark gray vest over a crisp white button down. Sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms that flexed with the pour of every drink, and the collar left open to reveal the glint of a gold chain resting on the soft down of his plentiful chest hair.
The hair on his head was shorter and lighter than the other man’s, but it was long enough to curl slightly around his ears and along the nape of his neck. The ends of it were kissed with caramel highlights that shone in the light when he flipped his head back or ran his large hands through the feathered locks whenever a piece fell forward into his bright hazel eyes.
Most importantly, he also seemed to be friends with your current fixation.
They had greeted each other jovially, hands meeting in a tight clasp over the bar before Steve grabbed a bottle of whiskey and started to pour without the other man even having to order. You watched with morbid fascination as those plush lips wrapped around the rim of his glass and his eyes fluttered closed as he took his first sip, the tattoo on his neck bobbing with the swallow.
Jesus Christ on a cracker…
Suddenly, as though he could sense you watching, his eyes popped open and immediately locked on yours. You started at the sight of the deep brown, almost black, vortexes in the middle of his face, nearly choking on the sip you were taking of your own drink—an excellent Malbec Steve had recommended when you first arrived.
A rush of warmth exploded on your face and you looked away, doing your best to pretend like he hadn’t just caught you blatantly staring at him.
Or that you hadn’t felt that egregious burst of excitement when he did. Did he care that you were looking? Was he looking at you now?
Doesn’t matter, you reminded yourself, trying to return your attention to the man in front of you.
The one you had made an actual plan to come here and meet; the one who was…still talking.
The next bit of your date felt like it took an entire year. You mostly phoned it in, reluctant to admit defeat too quickly. But over and over again, you found your focus drifting either to the stranger at the end of the bar, or to the bartender. And often, those two went hand in hand.
Again, they were either very old friends or both of them were extremely friendly. They talked and joked back and forth in between Steve helping other customers, bouncing from end to end of the bar with ease, charming smile never faltering as he enchanted every person he served.
As for the other man, you’d caught his eye enough times by now that there was no mistaking he was watching you. Though, you suppose that meant he knew you were staring at him as well…
At the end of your first glass of wine, you excused yourself from the bar—needing a break from this guy’s droning voice more than anything.
He nodded, finally taking a sip of his beer he’d barely made any progress on he’d been so entrenched in his recent soliloquy.
The bathrooms at West End were towards the back, down a long hall that obscured them from view of the rest of the bar. It gave the impression of being in an alleyway with black beadboard paneling that came a little over halfway up the wall and an eclectic gallery of pictures.
There were two bathrooms side by side, just single-room stalls adorned with brass apartment numbers rather than gendered signs, and you slipped into the one with no light coming out from underneath the door. And maybe you took a little longer than you probably needed, milking your break for all it was worth. Not stalling, just…taking care of some things.
Things like touching up your lip gloss that needed no touching up since you hadn’t said more than two words in the past half hour. Or like pulling up Tinder on your phone and setting your location to the absolute minimum distance. You know…just on the off-chance someone in the immediate vicinity happened to also have the dating app installed.
No such luck, you found.
A bit more deflated than you had any right to be, you tucked your phone back into your bag and rolled your eyes at yourself as you reached for the doorknob. You didn’t look up until you were almost at the end of the hall and when you did, you found brown eyes looking back at you.
He was headed for the bathroom as you were coming back and he caught you at the start of the long, narrow hallway leading to them. Your eyes met his as you approached and you paused, already anticipating that awkward shuffle of both of you trying to get out of the other’s way.
There was no awkwardness, though.
Heat pooled low in your belly as he held your gaze, and rather than breezing right by when you came to a stop, he stopped as well and leaned against the wall to let you pass. He was close enough now that you could see his hair was streaked with slivers of silver and more grays tinged the edges of his beard, particularly under his ears behind the hinge of his jaw.
Your shoulder just barely brushed his chest as you passed, eye contact holding until you were looking back at him over your shoulder as you returned to the bar.
He stood there, watching until you’d rounded the corner and were out of sight before he moved. Pulse thrumming, you slid into your seat with his cologne still in your nose, tickling your brain.
By the end of your second glass of wine, you were more than ready to go. Frowning as you took your last sip, you gave Steve a regretful shake of your head when he asked if you wanted another.
And beside you, Dale just requested your checks as he pushed away his beer.
You didn’t bother with feeling annoyed he hadn’t offered to get even one of your drinks. To be fair, you had not been remotely good company as it was, and especially not once the guy at the far end of the bar decided to call it a night.
Your heart sank just a little as you watched him stand and pull on a creased and faded leather jacket. He then headed for the door, his eyes locking with yours one last time as he went.
Beside you, your date cleared his throat loudly to get your attention and your head jerked up as you realized Steve had placed your receipt in front of you to sign. If Dale—wait, was it Dale or Dave?—noticed your fixation, he was too polite (or too chicken) to mention anything about it.
Tabs closed and coats thrown back on, you followed Dale (Drew? Dirk?) outside. The wintry air cut through your tights and you hugged your coat a little tighter around you.
“So, which way are you headed?” you asked, rushing out the words before he could ask the same thing and float the idea of sharing a ride.
“Uptown?” he replied.
“Ahh, I’m the other way.”
A derisive snort made your head whip sideways and your eyes darted to the source, landing first on the glowing orange dot of a cigarette and then on the plush pink lips wrapped around the filter at the other end. The snide comment locked and loaded on your tongue abruptly stalled.
It was him.
He leaned against the brick facade, foot kicked up behind him, watching your whole interaction. It made your cheeks burn with indignation, but the hungry look in his dark eyes made your entire lower half throb. His lips curved like the blade of a knife into a smirk as he stubbed his cigarette out on the wall and dropped it in a planter filled with sand next to him. You stared at him, your mind sort of blank, and his eyes remained fixed on yours as he strode back inside the bar.
“Okay, well…I guess I’m gonna go,” Dale sighed, a little petulantly.
You brought your eyes back to him and plastered on your most professional smile, shaking his hand formally like this was the end of an interview for a job he was never gonna get.
“Sounds good,” you said. “Nice to meet you.”
He frowned as he turned away, but you felt relatively certain you’d navigated that fine.
Surely he hadn’t felt the date warranted any other sort of follow-up or lie about doing it again—you certainly hadn’t been on your A-game. And you shuddered to think that was his.
Once he’d gotten in his Uber, alone, and you had assured him the one you had yet to call was on its way, you tugged your phone out of your coat pocket and checked the time.
Right now, you had two choices. It was still early enough that Robin could probably come pick you up with minimal begging required.
Maybe you two could get fries and milkshakes and watch some garbage reality tv before falling asleep in a little cuddle pile on the couch.
It was the reasonable option.
The logical, safe choice.
But all your dates lately had been so painfully reasonable and logical and safe. There had been no horror stories to regale Robin with at Sunday brunch, nor any explosive sexual exploit the two of you could squeal and giggle over while curled up on your overstuffed sofa.
It was downright boring. And you were growing pretty weary of it.
You glanced down one more time at your phone, still thinking. Your thumb hovered over Robin’s contact info, needing only a single tap to dial, while your index rested on the lock button.
With a subtle flex of your hand, you clicked the screen off and headed back into the bar.
One more drink couldn’t hurt…right?
“Back so soon?”
Steve was already smiling smugly at you as you approached, his eyebrow cocked as you slid back into your original seat and returned his smile with one of your own.
“I decided I couldn’t live without another glass of that Malbec,” you sighed dreamily.
He nodded, amusement still tugging at his lips as he uncorked the bottle you’d been steadily draining all night and took down a clean glass from one of the wire racks suspended overhead. You pulled your card from your bag and held it out for him to reopen your tab, but Steve waved it off as he placed down the newly filled glass in front of you and slid it smoothly across the bar.
“It’s taken care of, honey,” he said.
“Oh, really?” you chuckled. “By who?”
Steve smirked at your incredulous tone, his muscled forearms flexing as he leaned on them.
You leaned forward as well, crossing your arms under your chest, knowing how nicely it propped up your cleavage. It made the bartender’s eyes flash as he lowered his voice to a leading hum.
“The dirtbag at the end of the bar.”
He nodded his head backwards, making those caramel-kissed locks of his flop across his brow. Your gaze followed Steve’s nod, landing on the wild head of hair and all-consuming brown eyes you’d been distracted by all night. The “dirtbag” in question was staring straight back at you, the corner of his mouth curled as he raised his rocks glass of brown liquor and tipped it to you.
“Is he really a dirtbag?” you asked him, your eyes never dropping the stranger’s gaze.
“Nah,” Steve shook his head. “Just looks like one.”
“Good to know.”
You hummed to yourself, feeling almost a little cocky as you brought your glass to your lips and took an excruciatingly slow sip. The eyes of the man across the bar watched you intently, a fire burning in them that ignited your very being.
As Steve moved on to another customer, you pulled your eyes from those of the handsome stranger and let them fall briefly to the empty stool beside you. It was about as bold as you were willing to be at the time, but it did the trick. He promptly swiveled in his seat to slide off it and you smirked to yourself as you looked down, pretending to be fascinated by the garnet liquid swirling in your glass as he came around the bar.
“That’s a great Malbec,” he said.
God, his voice.
It made your cheeks (among other things) tingle, smooth and smoky as the whiskey in his glass you could smell as he placed it down beside your wine. The scent of it mixed with his cologne that was dangerously close to becoming your new favorite aroma—something woodsy and heady with a tinge of lightness like a salty sea breeze.
“It is,” you agreed, brow arching as he took the seat beside you. “You’ve had it before?”
“Nah,” he smirked. “You made it look so good, I had Stevie give me a taste. I told him to put your next one on me.”
Both of your brows raised at that. “And how’d you know I was coming back?”
“I didn’t,” he said, taking a cheeky sip of his drink. “I just hoped.”
You felt a smile burgeoning on your lips and pulled your bottom one back with your teeth trying, unsuccessfully, to fight it. He watched it spreading, the tip of his tongue running over the edges of his teeth as he offered you his hand.
You slid your own into his, feeling the exquisite pressure of chunky silver rings pressing on your fingers as he gave them a gentle squeeze.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Eddie.”
“Nice to meet you, Eddie,” you purred right back, offering him your name after a beat.
He repeated it once, all low and rumbly, taking his time with the sound of it in his mouth like it was a piece of chocolate melting on his tongue. Holding your hand a bit longer than necessary.
“So I’m assuming Desperate Dan out there wasn’t your boyfriend?” Eddie asked, chuckling into his next sip. The sound of it spiraled down your back, electrifying your spine.
“Nope,” you sighed heavily. “Just another drop in the Tinder bucket.”
Eddie’s dark eyes gleamed with something like mischief and he made a tsking sound with his tongue. “Well, if that’s the case, I sincerely apologize, sweetheart.”
“Oh, yeah?” You smiled at him. “What for?”
His eyes flickered again, this time taking a long moment to do a sweep up and down your body. Landing on your knees in your tights, flitting back up to your face as she shook his head.
“If someone like you has had to resort to dating apps…we’ve clearly failed as a gender.”
You actually shivered at the words, forcing your shoulders still not to show it as you propped your elbow on the bar and swiped the tips of your nails across your chin and along your jaw to play with your earring. Deepening your voice to a sultry murmur he had to lean in close to hear.
“No argument there.”
You rushed into the bathroom, flapping both your hands back and forth to fan your face and then under your arms. Safely hidden behind the door, your air of detachment could fall away and you could finally let out all the patently un-cool reactions you had been fighting the last hour.
With trembling hands, you pulled your phone out of your bag and fired off a text to Robin.
hey, I’m gonna share my location with you the rest of the night.
wait WHAT? Losera Annoyingus is getting a bang pass?
no he left…
…about an hour ago.
A blue bubble with three blinking dots immediately popped up on the thread and you imagined Robin’s thumbs actually smoking she was typing so furiously fast. But she must decide to abandon her message, because within a split second, a picture of you and her with your faces smushed together came up on the screen as she called you instead.
“Hey,” you whispered, praying your voice didn’t echo too much off the tiled walls.
“Explain,” she demanded. “Now.”
The excitement in her voice only increases your own, your cheeks still impossibly hot as you stand over the sink and fan yourself some more before another layer of sweat can form on your face.
“It’s this guy I met at the bar. He was like, making eyes at me while I was on my date and we started talking after and I just—I don’t know for sure, but it feels like he’s gonna take me home.”
“Is he hot?”
“Yes,” you breathed out a heavy, lustful sigh. “He’s so hot I wanna rip his appendix out.”
“Holy shit,” Robin whistled. “What’s he look like?”
“He’s…I don’t know,” you laughed. “He kind of looks like a Harley that came to life.”
“Alright then, you better go ride him.”
Robin’s snorted laugh makes you cover your own face with your palm. It’s searing hot now, your blood pumping furiously beneath the surface of your skin.
“Well, I have to get back out there to make that happen.”
“Go, go, go—have fun, use protection! Wait, hang on, not in that order!”
You laughed at her warning coming through faintly over the receiver as you mashed the button to end your call. With one last steadying breath, you leaned on the sink and nodded decisively.
“Okay,” you exhaled. “Let’s do this.”
Sage and sea salt filled your nose as you yanked the door open and nearly ran straight into the source of the scent. Eddie leaned against the wall across from the bathroom doors, shoulders shifting subtly as he twisted one of the large rings on his fingers.
You stood face to face now, hands hovering at your sides as you edged into the hallway.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, tucking his chin to his chest as he looked up at you from under long lashes. “Someone’s in the other one.”
You glanced suspiciously at the second bathroom door, seeing no light coming from underneath it. Eddie winced, still smirking adorably as you turned the knob and pushed it open to reveal it was empty on the other side. He chuckled, holding up his hands in a mock surrender.
“Fine,” he sighed. “You caught me.”
“Thought I was making a break for it?” you asked, pulling the door shut. Eddie’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek, his eyes roving over you slowly.
“I’d hate to think I scared you off,” he said as he kicked off the wall to stand up straight.
You crossed your arms under your chest, giving him a smile. “I don’t scare so easy.”
He nodded at that, his eyes still taking you in, scanning you like he was reading invisible stats. They lingered a few places you expected, like the curve of your hips and the swell of your chest. But then they landed on other things too, things you weren’t used to people noticing.
Things like your shoulders, or your calves in your boots, even your fucking ears.
“So…everything alright?” he asked, his voice lowering as he took a step closer.
“Yeah, I was just letting my roommate know I might be gone a while.” You held up your phone and tucked it back inside your bag with another coy smile. He chuckled.
“A while, huh?” Step.
“Yeah, you know...it’s pretty late.” Step. “Might be tough to get an Uber.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Eddie shrugged. “I live close.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You were nose to nose now, barely a whisper of space between you, the air thick with the heat radiating off your bodies in the narrow space.
The well worn leather of his jacket sleeve creaked softly as his hand came up to rest on the wall, caging you in with his arm.
“How close?” you asked, breath shuddering as you leaned on the door for support.
“Up the street,” he sighed. “But it’s still too far.”
His warm breath ghosted over your lips as they parted, the smell of the liquor coating his tongue making you feel woozy. Or maybe that was just the effect he was having on you.
He was so close now you could hear the bristly sound his beard made as he scratched at it with blunt fingertips. He’d barely inhaled to ask if he could kiss you when you surged forward to press your lips to his—the roughness of his beard on your chin a welcome abrasion.
Scratching the itch that’s plagued you all night.
It’s a hungry, lawless sort of kiss. Quick and clashing and difficult to tell if it’s actually mean or not—like two dogs play-fighting, both trying to see how much they can get away with before light snarls and soft snaps of their jaws turn to whimpers and whines.
Eddie parried with you for control, his tongue darting in and out of your mouth as he plied you with teasing, playful kisses you fought to deepen, tugging at his shirt. He pushed off the wall and reached down to grab your wrists, pinning them over your head to keep them in place.
The thrill of him trying to restrain you only made you unravel further, straining impatiently against his grasp. Breathless, you stretched out your neck and pushed your face past all his hair to place your lips beside his ear and pant into it.
“Can we go back to—”
“You wanna come back to—”
The both of you chuckled and exhaled with relief as your words and his overlapped, and you felt a sudden rush between your legs from the way Eddie’s eyes blazed with intention.
He released his hold on your wrists and your arms fell limp at your sides. In an instant, he had your hand wrapped tightly in his and was pulling you along as he angled towards the exit.
As you hurried after him out of the hallway and across the bar, you distantly registered music playing, picking out the chugging guitar and bass riffs of some 80s dance song. From behind the bar, Steve caught Eddie’s eye and you saw him offer his friend a two finger salute as the two of you burst through the door, your departure narrated by Paul Stanley’s deep, silky croon.
And tonight, I want to lay at your feet. Cause girl, I was made for you, And girl, you were made for me…
Eddie wasn’t kidding about living close.
Your boots clacked on the sidewalk as he ushered you along under his arm, the quick pace of your walk driven both by the chill in the air and the desire to resume what you started at the bar.
“This is me,” he said, indicating a four-story brick building just a block away from West End.
His place was on the top floor. It was a large studio with high ceilings and many features similar to the bar you’d just left. Half of the space was raised like a platform with a steel wire railing running along the edge. He had his bed up there and what looked like an office, but he’d created a divider of sorts with cube shelves filled with sweats, hoodies and t-shirts.
Promptly, you recalled him telling you he owned a company that designed and distributed merch for independent artists, and how he was constantly receiving samples from suppliers.
The kitchen was simple, sleek cabinetry and stainless steel appliances without a single smudge. A massive butcher’s block with a wooden top and wire racks underneath serving as an island. And a steel rack hanging down from overhead laden with cast iron cookware.
You took a few more careful steps inside, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath from being kissed stupid in the elevator while Eddie flipped some switches that illuminated the space with recessed lighting. Large black-paned windows revealed a view of the city and the night sky outside, some amber light from the street filtering in and casting across the oak floors.
In his living area was a massive brown leather sectional with extra-deep cushions and a chaise at both ends. It faced a plain wall with a screen you assumed went with the projector hanging down from one of the exposed beams overhead.
Every inch of your skin crackled with excitement as he came up behind you and reached around to grip the lapels of your coat and help you out of it, letting his fingertips skim your bare arms as he did. It made you shiver in spite of the warm air you could feel pumping out of the vents.
He hung up your coat next to his on a hook by the front door and you turned to face him as he sauntered back over. His gait was relaxed and casual, like he had all the time in the world.
Like he wasn’t driving you up the wall with every second you went without his mouth on yours.
“Did you want another drink?”
He gestured in the direction of a liquor cabinet, glass shelves lined with a modest array of wines and spirits, but you shook your head at the offer.
“Not particularly,” you said with a coy grin.
Reaching out and hooking a finger in his belt loop, you whirled yourself into him and slotted your mouth against his, licking into it to taste the smoky remnants of whisky there. He breathed into it deeply, his broad chest expanding with it and chuckling when he felt your hands on his belt.
“Easy there, tiger,” he teased, your lips breaking apart and taking hold of your wrists to still their efforts. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”
“Hopefully the kind that knows how to fuck.”
You smirked, the tip of your tongue flicking out between your teeth as your face veered in again. Your hips pressed with his and you began to sway back and forth, gently grinding them on him, resuming the dance you’d begun. His face came close, his hands settling on your waist.
“C’mon, honey,” he drawled. “Haven’t you heard good things come to those who wait?”
His lips trailed along the column of your neck, sending a riot of shivers down your spine causing you to release a breathy sigh.
“Sorry, what? All I heard was come.”
Eddie chuckled at that and his breath rushed across your neck as he smiled into your jugular.
“You’re funny,” he sighed. “We’ll see how funny you are when I get done with you.”
It was a miracle your knees didn’t buckle on the spot. Your eyes rolled back in your head, almost seeing the inside of your skull as his hand came up and he placed it around your throat.
“You want this?” he asked, his tone cool and precise, his eyes wandering across your face.
“Yes,” you gasped, all desperate and panting now you were so eager for him to start.
His thumb and middle finger pressed the sides of your throat, slowing the flow of blood just enough to make your head go fuzzy and your body to go just barely limp in his arms.
“Yes, what?” he growled. You drew a shuddering breath, unrestricted by his expert hold.
“Yes, I want this,” you answered. “I want you.”
Eddie took his time undressing you, softly kissing the new expanse of skin he unveiled with the removal of each piece of clothing.
He nipped lightly at your collar bones as he shed your blouse, canines catching briefly on the chain around your neck. He dragged his lips torturously slow over your stomach as he undid your skirt and it fell to the floor with a soft plop. His breath rush across your thigh as he kneeled to drag down the zippers of your boots, kissing your inseam though your tights all the way down to your ankles.
Every second was a kind of exquisite torture. Your heart hammered behind your ribs, the bones almost rattling with the force of it. And as much as you were dying to grab him by the back of the head and take over, you let yourself slip steadily under the spell of his affections.
You believed what he seemed to be whispering with his eyes in between every indelible kiss he dropped to your buzzing skin. He had you. He would take care of you. You could trust him.
And once you were totally bare in front of him, he held out his hand for you to take and he spun you in a slow circle like a ballerina in a music box, his eyes feasting on every inch of you.
If it was anyone else, you might have shied away. You might have felt some level of shame or concern about being stark naked in front of him while he was still fully clothed. You might have worried he would see something he didn’t like, some flaw or defect you preferred hidden. But the look on his face was nothing short of rapturous.
He walked you over to the couch and kissed you deeply as he removed his clothes. Showing not an ounce of the kind of care and consideration for his own as he did for yours, he stripped them off hastily and discarded them, tossing them away like they were garbage.
Your naked bodies came together in a full press, his arms curling around your form and his hands stroking your skin like he was trying to make sure not a single part of it went untouched.
At last, he sank down onto the sofa and his knees spread apart, his hard cock standing stiff and ready for you. He took your hands in his like he was going to pull you forward onto his lap, but you dropped to your knees instead, tucking your feet under your ass.
You looked up at him expectantly, your eyes darting between his face and his cock, the corners of your mouth curling upwards in a smile as your brows raised with a silent question.
“You sure?” he asked, circling his base with his thumb and forefinger to give a gentle squeeze. “I can take care of you, you know? Fuckin’ love to.”
“Don’t worry,” you said cooly, lashes fluttering as you scooted closer. “You will.”
You placed your hands on his knees and pushed them further apart so you could lean forward to kiss up the inside of his leg. Trying to give him a taste of his own slow, teasing medicine, you worked your way all the way up to the crease of his thigh and turned your head inward.
Eddie’s breath stuttered as your lips met his shaft, poking your tongue out to run it up the length. His head tipped to the side, his ear touching his shoulder to get a better view of you licking at him, halting grunts and gasps tumbling past his lips as yours puckered to kiss it more.
When you were satisfied you’d gotten him sufficiently worked up, you reached out and wrapped your hands around him fully, your fists stacked and twisting gently.
You stroked him off slow and even, your hands squeezing tight around his shaft, mixing your spit and the beginning of his spend that leaked from his tip. He watched you reverently, eyes hooded as he enjoyed your show. And looking up at him, a gooey sort of warmth filled your entire body.
You felt yourself slipping further into that sort of headspace you craved—all pliant and willing, your knees digging into his plush area rug as your legs tingled with numbness.
Your heart raced as you imagined giving yourself up to him completely.
Letting him take whatever he wanted from you.
As though he sensed it, as though he could read the desperation in your eyes, he cradled your jaw in his large hand and dotingly stroked the side of your face as he tilted his head at you.
“What is it, baby?” he cooed encouragingly. “What do you want? You can tell me.”
“Want you to use me,” you pleaded, fingers still sliding around him. “Use my mouth.”
Eddie gazed at you where you kneeled in front of him, your eyes having gone all big and round and glassy, shining with the tears you were dying for him to make spill down your cheeks.
Begging for it.
“Of course, baby, of course,” he sighed, gripping your chin and swooping in to kiss you deeply.
His firm hold gave you permission to go limp and you let your hands fall from his cock to rest on his muscled thighs, palms coasting over his tattoos and sparse leg hair. He pulled back, keeping your chin grasped in his fingers, holding your face still as he instructed you.
“You slap me three times in a row if you want to stop, okay?” he ordered in a husky rasp. “Do it for me now, so I know you can.”
You obeyed instantly, delivering three strikes to his thigh. His lips curled in a devilish grin.
“That’s it, just like that,” he hummed in approval. “What a smart girl you are, huh?”
The praise rippled down your back, his words making you tingle all over, much like your calves that were starting to go numb from sitting back on them. He reached around the back of your neck, gently guiding you into position so his cock was pointed directly at your lips.
His large hands nearly covered your entire head, holding it in his firm grasp, his fingertips digging into your scalp and causing even more shivers. Eyes locked with his, you let your mouth hang open and your tongue loll out fully, reaching almost all the way to your chin.
Eddie moaned loudly, mesmerized by the pool of spit you’d let collect in your mouth and the way it dribbled past your lips, running down your tongue and dripping onto your chest.
“Fuuuuck,” he chuckled low and rough, touching just the tip of his dick to your wet tongue. “You really want me dead, huh?”
Your eyes danced as you nodded, the motion causing your tongue to brush against his sensitive slit and spread his precum across the flat of it. A sharp gasp punched from his chest, not ready for the sensation, and his whole body shuddered with need. His eyes blazed and his nostrils flared as he gripped tighter around the back of your head and thrust fully into your mouth.
Lewd sounds filled the room as he pushed his cock past your lips, your mouth flooded with spit that poured out of you and pooled in the wiry thatch of hair at the base of his cock. You felt your body going lax and floppy as you gave yourself over to him, letting him hold your head up as you melted into little more than a puddle.
“That’s it, baby. Just let go, let me take what I need,” he drawled in that smoky voice, beginning a gentle thrust of his hips that pushed him deeper still into your mouth. “You’re doing so well…”
The salty tang of him covered your tongue as your jaw slackened to accommodate more of him, the sounds you were making coming out garbled.
“Christ, you sound so fucking sweet choking on my cock” he groaned. “What a good slut you are, huh? Giving me this mouth, letting me ruin it?”
You gagged loudly as his cock pushed in further until his tip met the back of your throat. He held the back of your head and your nose was nuzzling against the hair at his base, breathing in his thick and heady musk. Far earthier than his cologne, this was a smell that could only be him.
His eyes flitted to your hand clutching at him, your nails digging into the meat of his thigh.
But you made no move to tap out. Another tight spasm of your throat had him throwing his head back, his eyes pinching shut and his lips falling open in a desperate gasp.
“Shit, that feels so good,” he whined softly, his domineering mask slipping ever so slightly—the broken sound only making you go more feral.
Bracing yourself on his thighs, you began to push your head down to meet his thrusts, fucking your own face with his cock so hard that his grip on the back of your head was extraneous.
“Okay, okay—okay,” he grunted, chest heaving as he pulled you off him before he could blow.
His fingers held fast in your hair, squeezing it at the roots. You drew in air in great heaving breaths, panting from the effort, your tongue still hanging out of your mouth and head bobbing as you tried to chase the cock he had to drag you off of.
“You’re a greedy fucking girl, aren’t you, baby?” he chuckled, yanking your head back sharply so you were staring at the ceiling, eyes straining to look at him over the curves of your cheeks.
“Yes, sir,” you gasped back, chest still heaving.
“You want my cum that bad?” he teased lowly, pushing his face against yours and smearing the wetness of your tears across your cheeks.
“Yes, please,” you whined pitifully. “I need it.”
“Oh, you’ll get it,” he assured you, reaching down with his free hand to rub between your legs. “But only if it goes in this needy little pussy.”
Your entire body writhed as his fingers toyed with your swollen clit and dripping folds, scalp stinging where he gripped your hair with his other hand.
A pleasurable wail burst out of you as his thick fingers thrust inside your warm, wet hole and started to scissor relentlessly.
“YES, fuck—come in me. Please, please…”
More tears spilled freely down your cheeks as you begged him, drip, drip, dripping off your chin and onto your heaving chest, rolling down your naked body, leaving wet trails in their wake.
Eddie had to fight the urge to lick your clavicle.
He hauled you up onto his lap, scooting down so he could plant his feet properly on the floor. Your knees sank into the worn leather of his cushions on either side of his hips and you used all what little strength you had left to reach down and align yourself with him.
“Don’t you hold back—haah—alright?” he said, hissing softly as you sank down on his length. “I want that fucking loser from Tinder to be able to hear you from here. Understand?”
You nodded, hips beginning to slide back and forth, relishing the way his thick cock prodded at your insides and stoked your desire. Eddie let you keep control for a moment, his hands squeezing at the softness of your stomach, molding it with them. He watched you raptly, mesmerized by the undulations of your body, the way you let it writhe and rock and squirm on him until he thought you might come solely from your own movements.
A loud, exhilirated moan burst out of you as he suddenly thrust his hips upwards, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he slammed into your g-spot on the first fucking stroke—as if he could see straight through your flesh to aim for it.
The room filled with sounds even more lewd than before—the wet clap of his thighs with your ass cheeks, his balls slapping your soaking pussy, your mound squishing into his pelvis.
Eddie threw his head back, overwhelmed by the sight of every part of you bouncing so prettily on him. And as he exposed his neck, everything in the room went hazy except that thick, taught, muscled column. Sending you feeling.
You clawed at it desperately and drew hot, red streaks down it with your nails that trailed all the way to the middle of his tattooed chest.
“That’s it, baby,” he groaned. “Mark me up. Show everybody who owns me—”
He slid his hands back to grip your ass, spreading the fleshy globes wide and stretching your holes further open as he continued to slam his length inside you. He let one side go and delivered a single stinging slap that reverberated throughout your whole body.
The burn made you keen, arching your back until your chest was flush with his. He reached up to grip the back of your neck, taking your earlobe between his teeth and raking them over it.
“Now that that mouth is free, I wanna hear how good you feel,” he growled.
And if you thought you were loud before, it was nothing compared to now. The combination of his words and the perfect pace being set by his cock sent you instantly toppling over the edge, with Eddie’s own release following right behind.
In that moment, you vowed to send a fruit basket to every single one of his neighbors—an apology for making them think that a woman was getting murdered in the middle of the night two or three stories above their heads. The orgasm he brings you to makes you scream, practically sobbing as you cry out in immeasurable relief while searing hot pleasure ravages your entire body.
It’s an ascent you’ve never dreamed of reaching the peak of, the feeling spreading to the tips of every extremity, filling you with fire. It feels so good, it almost makes you sad to know you might never feel like this again. And if your brain hadn’t already turned to mush, you might have cared.
As you dwindled down from your high, you slumped forward limp and spent—your body still rippling with the effects, Eddie’s arms coming up to hold you against him as he peppered your shoulder with soft, sweet kisses.
“That’s it,” he breathed out in your ear. “That’s it, baby, just feel it…such a good girl f’me…”
He ran his fingers slowly up and down the column of your spine, creating waves of shivers waiting for your trembling to subside.
His length grew soft inside of you, but he made no move to slide you from his lap or to rush you in the slightest. He let you cling on to him, your face buried in his sweaty neck, his long hair tickling your face, losing yourself in his touch.
Slowly, your breathing grew deep and even, your racing heart slowing in your chest. Eddie turned his head and spoke to you quietly with his warm breath fanning across your cheek.
“You ready to move?” he asked.
You gave a weak nod.
Wobbling on unsteady legs, you stood and his hands quickly moved to the curve of your waist to keep you steady. He took you to the bathroom which looked more like it belonged in a spa than someone’s house, sitting you on the toilet.
From a hook hanging on the back of the door, he produced two bright white waffle weave robes, offering one to you. And as you wrapped the soft material around your shoulders, he turned on one of the faucets and held his fingers underneath it to test the temperature.
Once he’d deemed it warm enough, he took a fluffy washcloth from a little pyramid of them that were rolled up next to the sink basin. He held it under the stream, saturating the cloth and then giving it a gentle twist. You watched his hands every step of the way, mesmerized by the way his veins bulged under his skin and the muscles in his arms flexed as he wrung out the excess water.
He rubbed the warm cloth gently across your face, wiping off the residue of tears and spit and cum and what little was left of your make-up until your bare face shone in the soft lighting.
Once he had finished, he dropped the cloth into a hamper and cradled your face in his hands, his thumbs gliding easily over your slippery skin.
“So pretty,” he hummed, the words so soft you wondered if you were even meant to hear them.
From one of the drawers in the vanity, he brought out a pot of moisturizer and offered it to you with a smile. You frowned up at him, jutting out your bottom lip in a comical pout, not ready for him to stop taking care of you. It made him chuckle and a bemused smile spread across his lips as he tapped the tips of his fingers in the gel and started to smooth it over your cheeks.
“Come lay down with me?” he asked when he’d finished, head tilting back in the direction of the short set of stairs leading up to where his bed sat.
You nodded and he held out his hand to lead you out of the bathroom. You curled up on top of his dark duvet, your head sinking into the softness of his down pillow that held the faint scent of what you guessed was his tea tree oil shampoo.
The thick mattress dipped as he climbed onto it with you and draped a beige knit blanket over the both of you before he sidled up against your body.
It was…nice. More than nice. Shit, it was as close to perfect as you had felt in a long time.
The feel of his chest expanding and contracting against your back; his steady breath on the nape of your neck; the soft robe wrapped around your body and the comforting weight of the blanket on top of you. Not to mention Eddie’s arm curled securely around your waist.
Your eyes felt heavy, like your eyelashes suddenly weighed a thousand pounds, and you drifted fully into sleep, succumbing to the relief that had washed over you not twenty feet away.
When you woke, it was still dark out.
The street noise had lessened significantly and if you had to hazard a guess, it might have been close to one or two in the morning. Eddie’s place was darkened, lit only by orange street light that filtered through his windows and a half-dimmed reading light in the corner.
It was an arc lamp, suspended over a leather Eames chair where you could see that your coat and all of your previously discarded clothes were arranged in a neat little pile. But laid out at the foot of the bed right next to your feet were a pair of black fleece pants and hoodie, both about your size and emblazoned with the names of bands you didn’t recognize.
You sat up slowly, fingers hovering over the thick material as you debated. Were they for you? They looked a little big for Eddie, but maybe he had laid them out for himself? Was it a sign he was about to go to bed and you needed to get moving?
In the end, you slid out from underneath the blanket still draped over you and redressed in your clothes. After pulling your tights and skirt back on, stepping into your boots and zipping them up your calves, pulling your coat back on, you looked around the loft searching for Eddie.
From up here, you could see the bathroom door was open and the light was off…eliminating the only place he could actually be. And then your eyes fell on one of the windows that was cracked open with a short step-ladder built into the wall that had been pulled down in front of it.
You pulled your coat around you tighter the closer you got to the window and tentatively climbed the steps leading up to it. You pushed the large glass pane the rest of the way open and poked your head outside to find Eddie sitting on his terrace, resting with his back to the brick, head tipped back as he exhaled a cloud of smoke from his lips that drifted up towards the stars.
“Hey,” you said softly. His head turned at the sound and a wide smile spread across his lips.
“There she is,” he said in a gentle cheer.
You climbed through the window and a breeze carried the scent of the joint he was holding. You took a seat across from him, leaning back against the metal railing and letting your legs stretch out alongside his. He dropped his hand to rub your calf and he frowned at the realization you had redressed in your tights and boots. His brow furrowed adorably.
“Something wrong?” you asked.
He shook his head and took another drag of the joint before passing it into your waiting fingers.
“The clothes were for you,” he said. “Y’know, if you wanted something to sleep in.”
You paused, the joint just shy of touching your lips. “Like…if I was staying?”
“Would you stay?” he asked, a ribbon of smoke curling in the air as he exhaled.
Your mouth hung open, clouds of your hot breath escaping. “Oh, um…I mean, only if you—”
He cut you off with his lips, slipping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling you into a long kiss. Tiny embers scattered from the joint, being taken by the wind that blew and made the ends of Eddie’s long hair tickle the sides of your face. You pulled apart and he answered solidly.
“I want you to,” he said.
wasn't expecting this to be so long (that's what she said), but I hoped you liked it if you made it this far 🩷 love you, mean it!
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson oneshot#eddie stranger things#modern!eddie munson#older!eddie munson
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You can make Mens Collar Neck Full Sleeve T Shirt your wardrobe staple. You must know that these T-shirts are an effortless transition from casual to semi formal. They offer you a range of styling possibilities.
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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ when it comes to putting you back in your place, no one does it better than sylus
⋆。°✩ tags: sylus x fem!reader, established relationship, d/ry humping, t/easing, s/ucking him off through his sweats, m/istress kink, whiny!sylus, r/estraints, b/dsm, o/rgasm control, t/ease and denial, dom!reader (for like, a little while) -> sub!reader, p/leasure dom!sylus, noncon (reader ties sylus up first), o/ral sex, petnames (baby, kitten, little dove), s/ir kink, b/egging, r/uined orgasm
⋆。°✩ dawn says: SYLUS DAY TOMORROW !! may all the sylus wanters be sylus havers 🙏🏼 also tags were glitching on me so i had to change up the warnings format SORRY :')
"Hmm... what's this?"
Sylus blinks the sleep from his eyes to find you straddling his thighs, a smirk in place.
It's not like the Onychinus leader to ever let his guard down, but give the man a break—he's exhausted after trying to escape a raid last night.
And instead of letting him sleep, what does his precious little lover do?
That's right—she's got him all tied up to their bed.
His brows furrow, and he tugs on the knot, frustration growing alongside his respect. The knots were a solid 10/10; he could barely move if given a chance.
"Little one, what is this?" He tries to sound understanding, concerned, even.
You snicker. "What does it look like, Sy?" The pretty manicure you got on his card makes him pause. He barely blinks, taking in the sight of your hands sliding down his bare chest. He thinks the red and black combination suits you very, very well indeed.
Blood-red eyes narrow and his jaw ticks. "I would say you're playing with fire, kitten. Let me go—now."
It's an order—one you don't listen to.
"Say, Sy," you casually drape yourself all over him, enjoying his squirming. "Your neck is very sensitive, isn't it?"
Your finger trails from his jaw right to his jugular, hovering over the strip of skin.
"Shit, no," he cusses, flinching back from your touch. "Don't even think about it—"
Your lips replace your finger, trailing hot kisses down his neck. Sylus swallows down an embarrassing gasp, hands turning to fists above his head.
"Kitten, I'm warning you."
But, you don't listen to him—you never do.
Your mouth moves from his neck down to his chest, circling over his well-built chest. Your hair tickles him, trailing after your mouth that moves from chest to stomach down to his pelvis. So dangerously close to where he can feel you the most.
"Kitten, I'm serious here." His voice is a low growl, shooting a dirty thrill up your spine. "Stop teasing me and let me go."
You hum, moving your teasing little mouth to band of his sweatpants. Sylus' abs constrict the second he sees your naughty tongue lick a strip across his happy trail and he swears Devil horns appear on your head.
You grin, running your hand down the seam of his inner thigh.
"Sy," your tone is innocent, though a lustful demon is controlling you. "You're naked underneath those sweats, right?"
The 28-year-old underground leader is no idiot. He can tell when a kitten is itching to stretch her claws.
"Don't even think about it," he warns. Except, you're already doing it.
You touch the impressive bulge, proof that he was not immune to your teasing.
Oh, if only the Hunters Association could see you now. Sylus aches all over thinking about how he's gone off the deep end and ruined you—Linkon's shiniest Hunter—all for the sake of satisfying his dirty games.
The old you would never have found the guts to tie him up to his own bed and suck on him through his sweatpants. She would never have the nerve to be such a little slut.
But, he's changed you. For better or for worst, he can't decide.
Especially not right now when you straighten and he finally notices you in his black silk shirt, buttons sloppily done like a child did them, the too big collar slipping down to expose your shoulders.
Shit. An unwilling groan slips past his clenched teeth when you straddle his lap again and he sees you have no panties on. Fucking hell... she's out for my blood.
"Y/N," he growls your real name now, dead serious. "No more games. Untie me right this instant—fuck."
You grind down on his still clothed bulge, blinking your eyes innocently.
He growls, shaking his head. "I'm the one who ties you up. Or, have you forgotten, kitten?"
A tinkling laugh reaches his hot ears. "You sound like you're not enjoying yourself when this—" you reach for his dick and squeeze it, ignoring his hiss of pleasure. "—is proof that you are."
Oh. He narrows his eyes, licks his lips. You're going to get it this time.
But, your hand on him feels too good, and Sylus can't deny that a sick, twisted part of him is loving this.
His arms tense, tugging on the rope, his expression a cross between ecstasy and pain.
"If you beg me, I'll suck you off," you promise.
A hollow laugh. "Beg you? Beg. You? Shit, a-ah—no way. I'm not giving in. Not gonna give into you. I'm not—" He chokes on a moan. You're fondling his tip through the scratchy material. "Fuck. Fuck. Okay. Okay. Please?"
His voice goes quiet at the end, and you hum.
"Please, what?"
Sylus bares his teeth. No fucking way were you being dead serious.
You grin, twisting your wrist. "Say it, Sy. Please, Mistress."
His jaw ticks, glare deepening. You think he's going to give in—his surrender right at the tip of your tongue.
Suddenly, he starts to laugh. "Oh, Y/N. Sweet, sweet little kitten. You forgot something. Wanna see it?"
You stare at him in confusion, not sure what he's hinting at.
Sylus' smirk deepens, and he exhales another diabolical chuckle.
"You forgot to loop the tie, you foolish little Hunter."
Before your fast reflexes can kick in, his super fast ones have you pinned to the bed, beating you at your own game. The ropes you restrain him with are now around your wrist and you're tethered in the same spot you once had him in.
Pink dusts his cheeks, and Sylus is breathing hard like he's run a marathon. His frosty locks are a mess, but nothing is as terrifying as the sneer on his face.
It burns through you, leaving you breathless when he presses his face closer; you can physically smell the triumph radiating off him.
"What was it you said just a few minutes ago? Ah." His voice drops to a hush whisper; deep baritone caressing the shell of your ear as his hitched breathing teases you, drawing you deeper into the pit of your mistake.
Rubbing in your face how wrong you are for trying to play the master manipulator himself.
"Call you 'Mistress'? Make me beg? Oh, my little dove." He yanks the knots tighter and you yelp at the bite of pain. Sylus leaves enough room for you to wiggle around and make sure the blood still flows, though there's no other give.
Once again, you're trapped under him.
"I can smell your fear," he mocks, raising a brow. "It's so... addictive."
Returning the favor, Sylus nudges your chin up. "Lift your face up, baby. Lift it."
His mouth touches the nape of your neck, dragging towards your pulse point, your jaw, and back to your collarbones, leaving hot and wet kisses everywhere he can reach. Your sweet sounds are addictive, driving him crazy.
"You kissed me all over my body," he drawls in that seductive accent.
Another wet kiss on your shoulder. Sylus takes his time to unbutton the shirt you stole from him, humming under his breath. You flinch once your chest is exposed, and his smirk deepens.
"No way to escape for you now, kitten."
"Sylus, I'm sorry," you blurt out, but it's too late. He's already decided on your punishment.
"Tch." Clicking his tongue, he stands, looking ravishing in just his low slung, gray sweatpants. "I'll be back, little dove. Wait for me."
You can't see where he's disappeared to, only hearing him come back with more loops of rope.
"What's that?" you squeak.
"Nothing for you to worry," he hums, grabbing your ankle and fastening it with a round of rope, attaching it to the bed post. He does the same with your other ankle, and you're truly spread out for him with no way to escape.
Caught in his web you spun of your own stubbornness and greed.
"Sy—"
He shushes you, bringing a dark material right to your face and you tremble when you realize what it is.
"I told you that you have nothing to worry about, little dove," he murmurs, fingers working deftly to secure the blindfold around your eyes.
Darkness encases you, and you're tied to his bed, spread-eagle and helpless.
The bed dips beside you, and you feel the heat of his body hovering over yours.
"Now, what did you do to me a few moments ago, little dove? Oh, right." He grabs your face, tilting your head back. "You kissed me all over my neck."
His mouth resumes its carnal path across your sensitive skin, your hips bucking whenever a bite of pain from his teeth grazes you.
"My chest."
Sylus mouths at your collarbones, smearing hot kisses down your clavicles, over your breasts, stopping to suck and tease your nipples until you cry out in pleasure.
"Oh, I forgot how sensitive your sweet buds are," he murmurs huskily, pinching your nipples until they swell and throb. "What else did you do, hmm? Oh, yes..."
The marks of heat move down your body, right to your tummy; his kisses loud and lewd.
"Mhm, you kissed me right over my stomach..."
"Sy." Your whimpers draw another evil smirk on his handsome face. He can tell you're crumbling in real time. "Please."
You have no idea what you're begging for. But, Sylus hears you loud and clear.
"Don't worry, little dove. I won't tease you like how you teased me." His voice is magnetic, drawing you deeper into his web with his husky baritone and deep whispers. "Not... like... this..."
As he speaks, he caresses your stomach, loving how it flexes and twitches when he moves his touch right to your inner thighs.
"Do you want me to eat you out, kitten?" Sylus hums, and you fight back a shiver at the possessive undercurrent in his question.
"Yes," you admit, unable to help yourself. Your hips quiver, a moan falling past your mouth when he presses a languid kiss onto your inner thigh. "Yes, please."
"Please, what?" he taunts, drawing circles on your hips with his thumb. "Ask me nicely and I might oblige, little dove."
This is Sylus in his element—on top, domineering and controlling all the ropes. You have no choice but to give into him if you want to feel the barest hint of pleasure that he's holding back from you.
"Sir," you gasp, flinching at the bite of his fingernails digging into your plush thigh. "Please, Sir."
The second the word leaves your mouth, he's all over your drooling cunt.
Sylus eats you out in broad, languid strokes, focusing on your clit; using his tongue to play with it, bathing it with tender mouthfuls of praises and degradation all in one.
You wanna come, baby? Wanna mess up my face?
In another breath, he pushes a finger past your quivering pussy, curving it upward to hook on your softest spot. Your hips drive forward, a yelp perforating the heavy air.
No, kitten. You can't come. You can't—oh, fuck.
Sylus drinks in your taste, spreading your shaking thighs further apart. His broad palms trickle up your chest, cupping your heaving breasts and playing with your stiff nipples. He pinches them just as his tongue slips inside your tender heat, nose rubbing against your clit.
Tears stain the blindfold, your mouth hanging wide open in ecstasy. Sylus wishes he could paint a picture of you looking this wanton and needy.
You can't come, baby, he murmurs in between your folds. I won't let you. You've been such a bad girl. I'm gonna edge you until you can't think. Ah-ah. No cumming. No, no. He grounds you back down onto the mattress with those large palms, stopping you from grinding on his face.
I'm gonna ruin every orgasm you have—don't think I don't know when you're coming, baby. I know you. I can taste you. I know when you're close.
Your body is taut as a bow, teeth gritted and nails digging crescent indents into your palms.
Every time you climb towards the point of no return, Sylus drags you back down; backing away from your pussy, leaving you squirming and desperately writhing on the bed for minutes on end until your orgasm fades away—only to restart the entire process again from square one.
"Now you feel my pain, little dove?" He wipes your tears away, humming lowly. "It's not nice to tease people, isn't it?"
Point taken. You mumble his name, and twist your head as if trying to search for him. "Sylus, please. I wanna come."
Oh? This delights him. You're finally breaking down. You want to come, little one? Then, beg.
Your hips clip all needy against his, and your mouth puckers into a frown.
"Sy—"
He grabs your chin, holding you fast as his lips barely touch yours. Beg me.
Please. You lick your lips, tasting nothing but him. Please, Sy. Please, please. Make me cum.
He's back between your thighs, a fiend for your pussy. Sucking, licking, moaning and breathing deeply—it's erotic and obscene, salacious sounds bouncing across the walls. Your head is spinning, the entire room tunneling into one singular sensation of his tongue deep in your cunt.
Those slender, calloused fingers are back on your nipples, bringing you to the brink of insanity. You've bitten your lips hard enough to draw blood; your hips buck, and you're begging for him to give you a reprieve without a second thought.
Please, Sir. Please. Please make me come. I can't—I need it. I need you.
Yeah? A ghost of his chuckle caresses through your folds and you think he's going to relent.
Going to give you what you want, so you try again.
"Please?" You're so close it almost hurts. Your thighs are cramping, arms straining, back about to break with how tautly you're struggling in his restraints. "Please? Please, Sy. Please."
"Mhm," he murmurs, and you think he's going to give in. Finally going to let you climax after stringing you along for what feels like hours.
"No."
He kisses your clit as tears of frustration trickle down your face.
Sylus was never going to give you what you wanted—not when he already has you in the palm of his hand.
— scenario inspired by one of my fave y2f audios <3 feedback and reblogs are appreciated <333
©️ lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, or translate across other sites. do not copy my sentence structures, plot or characterization.
#🦢 writes#sylus love and deepspace#sylus x reader#sylus smut#lnds smut#sylus qin#lnds sylus#sylus x you#sylus drabbles#lads sylus#l&ds sylus#lnds#sylus#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace mc#love and deepspace x reader
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18+, MDNI, angry!Nanami, unkempt!Nanami, loss of social propriety and sloppy about it
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Nanami Kento was always pristine; never unkempt. Except, for the one time that he was. That one mission. The mission. The mission of no return. Once you'd seen him like that, you weren't sure you could ever see the cufflinks and starched collars the same ever again.
And god knew he couldn't shake how you looked at the end, with your hair in his hands, and his name on your tongue, and your lips kissed plump.
He had arrived late, that evening; not his fault, you noted, as his car skid to a halt in the hammering rain-- you had both been called to this after-hours emergency.
Kento looked frazzled, irritable, and tugged his tie knot as he jogged through the downpour to meet you. The tatty awning over the lean-to against the old school building, did little to keep either of you dry.
"Sorry--" Kento huffed, jostling against you to squeeze under the awning, still suited but reluctantly so, "--sorry, I was just about to have dinner, and-- why the hell have they called you, too?"
"Two person job, apparently," you peeved, flat. Kento shot you a glance of weary annoyance, which you reflected straight back at him. Cursing at the rain water dripping down his neckline, and scowling back at the building, he sniped.
"In there, is it? Let's not waste any time, I'm already on Overtime and I don't have the patien--"
"Not there." You tapped your foot atop a manhole cover, a heavy metal grate, "Here."
Kento froze. He did a double-take. His annoyance loomed over you, tension fizzling across his shoulders and his fist white-knuckled around his blade.
"You're serious, aren't you?"
You nodded, bending to lift the manhole cover aside. "As a car crash, Kento."
Kento shoved the manhole cover the rest of the way with his foot, and a growl. His handsome face twisted, and his stomach rumbled, and you felt yourself pale under the anger thudding off him.
"I'll go first," he clipped, his beautiful brown shoes beginning to click down the ladder, with his blade between his teeth and his voice muffling around it, "and we'll get this over with."
Hours, hours later, Nanami Kento flung himself out of the manhole, soaked to the bone, spitting curses like venom. You followed him, a drowned rat, and watched the finely woven threads of him fall apart at the seams.
Kento stalked through the streetlamp-lit rain to his car, his shoulders hunched and his hands in his pockets. His hair was ruined, his glasses shattered, and his suit soaked and torn, sticking to the peaks and planes of his electrified body.
"Come along," Kento barked behind him, and you jolted to attention, drawn in by the jabbing authority in his voice. You watched him, feeling a blush creep up your neck, as he ripped his clothes off with utter abandon, and replaced them with sweatpants and a t-shirt stored in the boot of his car. His slim eyes glared, hands flinging, and he thrust an enormous hoodie at you in stony silence.
Even his rage was gentlemanly, and he turned his back on you while you stripped to your underwear, and changed. You felt indescribably naked in just a hoodie and so, like any good man, Kento bustled you into his passenger seat, and joined you, warming the car up.
Kento drove without speaking. You side-eyed him, and though you knew his irritation was not for you, you knew one wrong word would incite a clipped sarcasm. Kento skid the car to a halt, eventually, and turned to you, flat-eyed and cold.
"What do you want?"
So many ways that question could be answered, and they fought for precedence in your mouth. In the end, you just looked at him, dumbly. Kento huffed, a smirk playing on the edge of his mouth. He rolled down his window, to a drive-through speaker, and repeated himself.
"What," Kento enunciated, "do you want?"
Whatever you ordered, despite your appetite, couldn't have been a quarter of what Kento did. You found yourself stunned again, to see Kento sat in sweatpants and a t-shirt, still damp and mussed, cramming a burger into his mouth at breakneck speed. He'd have been a quiet eater, but the satisfied noises he made were sinful. He tip-tapped his third box of fries, and tipped the last handful into his mouth with a happy groan.
You felt heat pool in your belly to see him looking like, well...just a guy. Just a big, hungry guy, pissed off with work and slumming it. You didn't realise you were staring until Kento reached over without looking, and urged your hovering hand closer to your mouth.
"Eat," he grumbled, "I know I'm not exactly civilised right now, but don't let it put you off your food."
You swallowed hard, chewing through a chicken nugget, "It's, uh...its not that." Kento shot you a challenging side-eye, "It's...kind of sexy. Seeing you so...so comfortable."
Kento froze. He dropped a pinch of fries back into the box, closing his eyes and shielding them with one long-fingered hand. You felt the prickling, queasy heat of embarrassment spread from your stomach up. You opened your mouth to apologise, mortified, before Kento spoke, his voice gravelly.
"Don't say something like that," he warned, low and groaning, "don't say something like that-- when you're in my clothes in the passenger seat, and all of my decency has gone out of the window--"
You looked at him. He looked at you. He swallowed hard to feel his cock twitch to life, his grey sweatpants barely hiding how he swelled. You reached over to swipe mustard off the corner of his mouth with your thumb, and licked it off, not breaking eye contact. Kento's eyes darkened, and he almost laughed.
All pretence of good society was shattered. By the time the doors closed on the lift up to Kento's apartment, he had lifted your thighs around his waist to carry you, and taste your lips on the way. You and Kento staggered into his apartment like this, spinning, thudding into the walls, knocking a vase off the table, kissing, nipping, biting, groaning, unhinged and unsupervised.
You squealed with laughter when Kento threw you onto his sofa, and climbed on top of you, rolling along until you were on top and he was on top and you were on top and he was on top and--
"Fuck--" Kento rumbled into the plush of your belly, "--fuck-- sorry-- utterly disrespectful--" He groaned again, cursing and leaving his mark in blooming petals, to hear you whimper.
"--disrespect me harder--"
"Shit-- yes please--"
Kento practically ripped his hoodie over your head, his hands clutching at your bared body with trembling force. He panted, shuddering. His eyes pleaded with you; as if they had to. With gritted teeth, he dragged your hips to the edge of the sofa, and swiped your panties aside to delve his tongue into your sweet heat to continue his meal.
You thought (in a nebulous way, between whimpering bursts of pleasure), that Kento must have gone mad. He couldn't restrain himself, even, from hooking his weeping cock out above his sweatpants, and stroking himself in time with his wet, hungry suckles on your clit. Kento had thrown off the shackles of propriety with a roar, and he cried his relief into your cunt like you were aqua vita.
"Ken--" you cried, your voice cracking to hear him answer you with pre-cum slick plap-plap-plaps of his fist and rusty moans, "Ken-- can't-- ungh, fuck, I'm gonna--"
Kento didn't think twice, delving his free hand between your thighs to sink two long fingers inside you, yanking your orgasm from you with devastatingly accurate, come-fucking-hither-strokes.
You arched off the sofa with a breaking cry. Kento released his cock, now angry and needy, with a shudder, just to hold you to his mouth so he could taste you through your orgasm. You twitched, jerking and incoherent; Kento dragged it out until you convulsed, your ecstasy made sharp with involuntary little moans of his name.
"--not done disrespecting you--" Kento hissed, pressing you back as you moved to sit up, "--not until I'm dripping out of you, just for me to fuck it back in again-- good girl--"
You clapped your hand over your mouth, in disbelief at the utter filth coming from this beige man. Kento scoffed, a smirk on the corner of his lips. He pressed his sweatpants down just enough to free his heavy, aching balls. He stroked his cock head between your folds, making you twitch every time his slit caught on your clit, giving himself a sly pussyjob and bearing over you to rumble against your lips.
"I thought the tie would have been a dead giveaway," Kento whispered, and before you could answer, filled you to the brim with one smooth roll of his hips. You squealed again, and Kento clapped his hand over your mouth, as if you catch the sound and bottle it for later. You tangled your fingers in his hair, your cries muffled behind his hand. Kento dragged his cock back out of your slick, inch by torturous inch.
"Hold onto something-- pull my fucking hair-- good girl--"
Kento took you at a relentless pace, blond hair flopping in his eyes, still scratched and bruised from your mission, and his eyes alight with bliss. You fell apart beneath him, rammed against the back of the sofa, feeling him belly deep, tugging his hair and sinking your teeth into his forearm until he hissed with pleasure. You mewled, blinded by the insistent thrusts to your core.
"F-fuck m-meee-eeee-eeee, ohhhh-hhh, Ken-- where's Ken-- where's Kento gone--"
Kento laughed, breathless and stilted, and plaiting his fingers with yours to pin your arms above your head. His pace never faltered, and he nuzzled into your throat, scoffing, "--same man-- same-- same man-- just one bad day away-- shit, I won't last-- squeeze me harder-- unnnnghhh l-- I'm gonna come--"
Kento's fingers fumbled against your clit, sloppy and harsh and dragging another orgasm from you, and coming with a bark as you dragged his out of him. As promised, he filled you, with ropes of seed so long and thick, that his balls must have received the same let go memo.
You watched Kento through his ecstasy; buckled over you, a sweating, stone-carved beauty, released from the confines of his cage. He shook with exertion, eyeing you with shrewd reproach.
"You tell no-one," Kento growled, tickling your ribs when you began to laugh, his cum dripping where you remained joined, "you tell no-one--"
"Or what?" You squealed, tugging him down by the hair. Kento bit into your neck, burying himself deeper inside you in challenge. You felt him twitch back to life, and shivered, a bunny in the jaws of a bear.
"Or I'll put my suit back on."
"You animal--"
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Men's T-shirts; Round Neck and Versatile Vibes
Men's T-shirts are a mandatory outfit in men’s closet. It comes with a wide variety in terms of designs, patterns, fabrics, and colors. Though men’s T-shirts come in various neck designs, still round-neck T-shirts are considered a versatile outfit. These T-shirts offer comfort, paired with any bottomwear, or layered with a jacket, can be styled for any casual to formal setting and get a decent stylish look. And because of all this round neck T-shirt becomes a versatile outfit. This article tells about how to style a round-neck t-shirt and get a versatile look.
Bukkum: Your Top-Most Preference
As you have many options to buy men’s t-shirts, then also you think that Bukkum is a good option to satisfy your shopping cravings. Why Bukkum is your first preference to buy T-shirts for men? Just check it out:
Men’s T-shirts Are Design With Quality Fabrics-
Men’s T-shirts are designed using natural and artificial fabrics. Bukkum uses premium quality fabrics that offer comfort and flexibility when you pair them for workouts.
Men’s Tshirts Are Available In Your Size and Colors-
Sometimes you have experienced that the wrong fitting size causes discomfort. Bukkum has every size that fulfills your fitting requirements. Even oversized is also easily available for those who like to wear oversized T-shirts. Bukkum has T-shirts in multiple colors that bring out your look as versatile.
The Use of Modern Technology To Manufacture Men’s Tshirts-
With what technology t-shirts are manufactured is important. The inappropriate technique might loosen the T-shirt’s fabrics and cause discomfort during workouts. Bukkum uses Anti-microbial technology and Anti-Static technology that wicks sweat prevents odor-causing microbes and keeps you fresh and hygienic during intense workouts.
How Round Neck T-shirts Help to Get A Versatile Look?
Up to Now, You have the information about why Bukkum is your first preference for Shopping. Within a short time, you will learn how a round-neck t-shirt helps you get a versatile look. You may have paired a round-neck t-shirt incidentally. Let’s find out how you can make your look versatile by pairing a round-neck t-shirt.
For a Versatile Look in a Round Neck Tshirt, you can opt:
Experiment With Colors-
You can experiment with colors from bold to light-toned for a versatile look. The choice of colors easily transitioned your look from daytime casual to a sophisticated evening ensemble. The color diversity allows you to play with different combinations and create a look that matches your mood and occasion.
Pairing a Navy printed round-neck t-shirt with gray fitted joggers and sports shoes effortlessly brings out a versatile look.
Styling Sky Blue T-shirt with a Printed “Start Moving” Trackpant and jogging shoes and get ready to hit a Morning Walk. And Start Moving in a direction that makes you fit and healthy.
Experimentation With Mix And Match-
Round neck t-shirts easily blend with any bottom wear and can be styled with shorts, formal trousers, or track pants. This simple neck design seamlessly allows you to create versatile looks for different events.
Pairing an “Authentic” Red T-shirt with black formal pants and be authentic to your client. For a more formal look, ensemble a jacket or blazer, wristwatch, and formal footwear.
Combining a Maroon round-neck training T-shirt with Chinos, and sneakers, a smartwatch elevates your look as versatile for casual events.
Conclusion
From the wide range of men’s T-shirts, Round-neck T-shirts are versatile staples for men’s wardrobes. This T-shirt effortlessly matches any bottoms, easily suitable to your mood and occasion. This simple neckline t-shirt allows the transition from office looks to casual looks. Every colored T-shirt allows you to get a versatile look with a basic neckline T-shirt. When it comes to styling a round-neck t-shirt for the next time, implement our suggestions for a versatile look and see the difference in your personality.
Bukkum is always ready by your side to help out concerning any issue, be it a return and exchange, or refund. It has an accessible refund policy and sends notifications on whether your refund will get approved or not.
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The Versatility of Women's Fashion: Exploring V-Neck Dresses, Off-White Printed Collar Dresses, and Short-Sleeved Cotton T-Shirts
Introduction
Fashion is a powerful form of self-expression that allows individuals to convey their personality, mood, and style preferences. In recent years, women's fashion has evolved to offer a wide range of choices, catering to various tastes and occasions. In this article, we will explore three versatile wardrobe staples: women's V-neck dresses, off-white printed collar dresses, and short-sleeved cotton T-shirts.
Women's V-Neck Dresses
V-neck dresses have long been a classic choice for women's fashion, and for good reason. These dresses are characterized by their neckline, which dips down into a V shape, creating a flattering and elongating effect. V-neck dresses are available in various lengths, from mini to maxi, making them suitable for both casual and formal occasions.
One of the key advantages of a V-neck dress is its versatility. It can be dressed up with accessories like statement jewelry and heels for a night out, or dressed down with sneakers and a denim jacket for a relaxed daytime look. Whether you opt for a solid color or a playful print, a V-neck dress is a timeless addition to any woman's wardrobe.
Off-White Printed Collar Dresses
Off-white printed collar dresses represent a blend of elegance and individuality. These dresses often feature intricate prints and patterns on an off-white or cream-colored backdrop. The addition of a contrasting collar adds a touch of sophistication and uniqueness to the garment.
Off-white printed collar dresses are perfect for those looking to make a statement with their fashion choices. They can be worn to weddings, cocktail parties, or even as work attire, depending on the style and print. Pair them with heels and a clutch for a formal event or with sandals and a sun hat for a more relaxed summer look. The options are endless, and these dresses are sure to turn heads wherever you go.
Short-Sleeved Cotton T-Shirts
Short-sleeved cotton T-shirts are the backbone of a comfortable and casual wardrobe. These versatile pieces come in various colours, styles, and designs, making them suitable for every season and occasion. Cotton T-shirts are loved for their breathability and softness against the skin, making them a go-to choice for everyday wear.
Pair a plain white or black cotton T-shirt with jeans for a timeless and effortless look. For a more stylish twist, opt for T-shirts with fun graphics, slogans, or artwork. They can be layered under blazers, or cardigans, or worn on their own during the warmer months. These T-shirts are perfect for running errands, hitting the gym, or simply lounging at home in comfort.
Conclusion
In the ever-evolving world of women's fashion, having a few key pieces like V-neck dresses, off-white printed collar dresses, and short-sleeved cotton T-shirts in your wardrobe can provide endless style possibilities. These garments offer comfort, versatility, and the opportunity to express your personality through your fashion choices. Whether you're dressing up for a special occasion or embracing a casual chic look, these wardrobe staples have got you covered. So, go ahead and embrace your unique style with these fashionable choices that are sure to stand the test of time
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I'm just imagining having spent the night with a lover who isn't in the 141, only to wake up the next morning and there's in intervention waiting for you in the rec room.
Like, at first you're just confused. But when Price opens his mouth to ask you about how you slept...you have a bit of a meltdown. Why does it matter? Why is everyone staring at you? What's going on?
Soap grabs the collar of your t-shirt and pulls it down so everyone can get a look at the dark hickies dotting your neck. You slap his hand away, tears in your eyes.
"So all of you can do whatever you want? Sneak bitches on base and fuck around at all the bars we pass through! But I'm not allowed to do anything with someone I actually like?!"
It hurts. It feels like you're being stripped bare in front of them.
Price sighs, his gaze softens. It's obvious he doesn't want to have this conversation but something you've done has given him no choice. Soap just stands a few feet away, chest puffed out, eyeing you with a strange annoyance. You know if you try to leave he'll stop you.
"You are...not in the same position as us." Price tries and winces. He's obviously not putting his thoughts into soft enough words, but he continues. "You are...it is our responsibility to keep you safe."
"Safe? You're trying to keep me safe?" Your voice is raised higher than you've ever raised it at Price. "Safe by what? Fighting off all the guys at the bars? Safe by spreading lies about me to all of the PMCs and the other Task Forces?"
Price just closed his eyes and set his jaw. He had to know about the subterfuge you'd been experiencing for well over a couple years now. Everyone in the room was guilty as charged.
"You're and asset. And you're also a liability." Ghost speaks up, eyes narrowed, stance way too relaxed against the metal folding chair he sits in. "Do you remember what happened to the 7th Division?"
Saliva pools in your mouth, a sudden queasiness filling your stomach. Yeah, of course you remembered. Their beloved medic had been kidnapped by a group of angry drug lords using a mercenary group as their muscle. The 7th Division had gone in guns blazing to get their member back and well...they'd been wiped out. And their star medic they'd sacrificed everything for? She'd been brainwashed and inducted into the very agency that stole her away.
KORTAC
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" You mutter. "Please tell me you're not."
"We can't have you fraternizing with anyone." Price states smoothly. "As our medic, you have a responsibility to us, your team. We can't have you getting caught up in something bigger."
"I understand what you're saying, but can't you see how ridiculous this is?" You try to reason. "I'm human, I have- god this is embarrassing. I h-have wants and...needs, just like you guys."
The silence is loud. You can't meet anyone's gaze. Price steps closer to you, swallowing hard. His next few words are spoken softly, conspiratorially.
"All of your needs will be taken care of. We will never let you suffer by yourself."
Price cocks his head to the men before you both. All of them straighten beneath his gaze. Price places a hand on the small of your back.
"Whatever it takes." He commands them. "I better not hear or see anything. Do I make myself clear?"
A trio of "yessirs" bounce off the white walls. Price just smiles and nods. He pats your back.
"There we go. You'll be fine." He sighs. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to your guest."
Your eyes widen, your throat drops into your stomach.
"Wait!"
"We've got ye, Bonnie. You n' all yer needs."
Six hands are on you from several different angles. Their massive frames block out the fluorescent lights.
"Ah, where are you goin'?" Gaz chuckles, his arm wraps around your belly.
You try to run after Price but the rec room door is slammed shut and locked. You try to push the closest man away, but he just grins down at you.
#cod imagines#mw2#call of duty#mw2 headcanons#simon ghost riley#cod mwii#john soap mactavish#captain price#simon riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick
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