#caribbean sharp-nose
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Fishuary day 7: Blowfish/Pufferfish
I chose a Caribbean Sharp-Nose Puffer!
(Canthigaster rostrata)
These little guys are so cute, I love their little snouts. This is a late one (sorry) but I actually like the way he ended up. It took a while to get the colors to meld together in an orderly fashion but we got it done.
@fish-daily
#Just realized I made my watermark way too obvious#Srry abt that :(#fishuary2024#fish#soggy's art#pufferfish#puffer#blowfish#caribbean sharp-nose#fishblr
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Takifugu oblongus and Canthigaster rostrata from Marcus Elesier Bloch’s Ichthyologie ou, Histoire naturelle des poissons. Berlin 1796.
Source: Harvard University, Museum of Comparative Zoology, Ernst Mayr Library (online via Biodiversity Heritage Library: https://www.biodiversitylibrary.org/item/26748).
#takifugu oblongus in art#oblong blowfish in art#lattice blaasop in art#canthigaster rostrata in art#Caribbean sharp-nose puffer in art#puffers in art#pufferfish in art#tetraodontidae in art#fish in art#animals in art#Bloch#18th century#Ernst Mayr Library#biodiversity heritage library
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Take You There
A/N: I’ve been hearing in the streets that some of yall are tired of smut 👀 (my specialty 🥲) so I present you with a slow burn. I’m not sure just yet how many chapters there will be, and I don’t know how or why this idea came to me but I’ve fallen in love with the story. I also desperately need practice writing stuff other than porn because I have dreams of being a published author some day soooo all feedback is highly appreciated 💕
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Reign Adisa (black female OC)
Summary: Terry gets inspired in so many ways by a tattoo artist.
Warning: fluffy and angsty, no smut here so rated E
Length: This mf is 4.1k words long 😮💨🥴 my fault
Chapter 1
Wednesdays felt like her secret sanctuary, a rare calm in the whirlwind of her week. Most days, Reign’s life as a young Black woman running a buzzing tattoo studio in the heart of downtown Houston was anything but quiet—ink-stained hands, constant chatter, the hum of machines. Yet, in this moment, she savored the peaceful lull.
The community had embraced her with open arms, offering support, admiration, and more appointments than she ever imagined this early on. Clients lined up months in advance, eager to wear her art, while others knocked at her door with résumés in hand. Reign was already on the hunt for three more artists to keep up with the demand. It’s been a blessing, but it’s also been overwhelming.
So Wednesdays, Reign doesn’t take any appointments or walk-ins, she just comes to her studio to create, conjuring up beautifully original pieces to present to the world. Wednesdays helped her stay grounded so she didn’t lose herself in the fast pace of her career. They helped her hold on to her love and passion for her craft, it’s a necessity for her success as an artist.
Her studio was a reflection of her soul—beautiful, grounded, and something she took immense pride in. She had stumbled upon the space by chance, walking through the warehouse district one sunny afternoon. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed by smooth cement walls flooded the open floor plan with light, offering her the creative freedom to shape the space however she desired. Now, a vibrant neon orange sign reading "Lotus Tattoo" glowed outside, inviting passersby. Inside, the walls were adorned with art from local artists, while plush oriental rugs softened the industrial feel. Scattered lamps cast a warm glow in the evening, and cozy seating areas and lush plants created a relaxed vibe. Bamboo room dividers separated the space for other artists yet to join her.
Today she walked in and began her routine that now felt more like a spiritual ritual which transported her to another world. Opening the velvet mauve curtains to let the morning light in, lighting incense throughout the space to cleanse the energy, turn on her brown sugar playlist so soft r&b can set the vibe, and opening the wide glass garage door at the back of the studio to let the cool autumn breeze in.
She took off her crochet cardigan which matched her shorts, rolled up the sleeves to her cropped Anderson Paak shirt, and swirled her copper highlighted braids into a messy bun. Pushing her glasses further up her nose, she sat at her desk and hunched over her iPad, biting her pen as she imaged how to bring more texture to the hair of the Caribbean mermaid she was working on.
~~~~~~~~
Terry’s legs couldn’t stay still, pacing the length of his apartment like a caged animal. The space felt suffocatingly small, no matter how impressive the view of the city spread out below him. The constant barrage of honking horns and blaring sirens seeped in through the open window, filling his head with a cacophony that grated against his nerves. Overstimulated didn’t even begin to cover it. He let out a sharp breath, the simmering rage beneath his skin threatening to boil over. He hadn’t always been this tightly wound—once upon a time, people called him easygoing. But things had changed. He had changed.
He shoved his AirPods in, cranking the volume of "Killing in the Name Of” until the defiant shouts and pounding drums drowned out the noise in his head. As the music pulsed through him, he stormed out of his place, locking the door behind him with a sharp click. Instead of heading toward the elevator, he veered toward the stairwell, taking the five flights down two steps at a time, as if the rapid movement could outrun the memories chasing him.
Sure, everything had worked out on paper—the Shelby Springs police department was under investigation, the chief and a dozen corrupt cops were behind bars. Cases were being reopened, and lawyers from across the country were flocking to defend the victims of that backwoods nightmare. Hell, Terry had even won half a million in his lawsuit against the city. But what did it all matter? Mike was still gone. After pouring everything he had into saving his cousin, Terry was left with nothing but an empty victory and a gnawing sense of purposelessness. Lost, adrift, and suffocating beneath the weight of survivor’s guilt, he couldn’t shake the question that haunted him: At what cost?
As he exited his building, the midday sun greeted him with a mocking cheerfulness, bright and all consuming. Terry scowled, keeping his squinting eyes glued to the uneven ground beneath his feet as he mindlessly walked the downtown streets. He was so wrapped up in his disdain for life that he missed how people moved out of the way of his hulking form, how cops perusing the streets eyed him suspiciously, how birds scurried away from the sound of his thundering footsteps.
He walked for 20 minutes in a straight line before his mind finally went numb enough for him to take in his surroundings. He wasn’t far at all from his home, but this side of the downtown had a different feel to it. The buildings were shorter and wider, the foot traffic was less obnoxious, and beautiful graffiti covered almost every wall. He spotted a building that stood out amongst the others with its pristine alabaster paint over the cement and its glowing neon sign. “Lotus Tattoo”.
It had been months since Mike passed, but the thought of getting something permanent to honor him had crossed Terry’s mind more than once—though he didn’t need ink to remind him of Mike’s infectious laugh or goofy grin. As he approached the tattoo shop, he slowed, his fingers brushing the door handle. He gave it a tug but stopped when he felt resistance—it was locked. For a moment, he considered walking away, but movement deeper inside the studio caught his eye. He lingered, torn between retreating and pressing on, before finally deciding to make his way around the back, curiosity quietly pulling him forward.
~~~~~~~~
She doesn’t hear him walk in through the open garage door, so immersed in perfecting the fine details before her, and Terry doesn’t wish to bring attention to himself just yet. He takes soundless steps into her studio, as if the building itself was emitting a peace so relieving that he could feel the pressure of anxiety roll right off his shoulders. He took a deep breath in, nose filling with the earthy scent of warm patchouli and sweet jasmine. Walking further into her domain, his eyes bright with curiosity take in his surroundings-a chipped and loved on mug, the soft rug blanketing his steps, the petal shaped ceiling fans whirling quietly, and he chuckled silently at her grumbles to herself.
He instinctively removed his AirPods and put them in their case, snapping the lid shut and startling the both of them. Reign straightened her back with a gasp, turning so sharply on her stool that her glasses flew off her face and she toppled over, just barely catching herself in a clumsy fighting stance, knees knocked and hands in awkwardly placed fists. Terry, for what its worth, looked like a deer caught munching in the farmers garden, pupils blown almost wide enough to cover the steel gray, mouth open in a shocked ‘o’, eyebrow twitching from trying not to laugh at her horrible stance and the fact that her glasses slid right to his feet.
“Um…” Terry didn’t know what to say as he raised his palms to her, trying to appear harmless, “I was wondering…do you take walk-ins?” Reign let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and placed a hand over her thudding heart, standing more relaxed but still on guard.
“You almost scared me to death! Yes um-“ she squinted at the ground next to her, trying to find her glasses, “-um yes, normally I do, just not Wednesdays-“ she was caught off guard again feeling a warm hand on her shoulder. When had he even moved?
Terry stood so close that her nose brushed his shirt as she tilted her head to look up at him. He gave her a ghost of a smile and brought her glasses to rest on her nose, pushing her loose braids back behind her ears and studying her. “There.” His voice was so deep that she couldn’t tell if the goosebumps erupting on her skin was from the sound of it, or from being so close to him.
They stared at each other a moment longer, him admiring her gold septum nose ring against her beautiful mahogany skin, and her eyes darting between his plump lips and striking eyes. Terry finally cleared his throat and took a large step back, raising a brow at her. Reign blinked away the haze he’d created, her voice coming out high and breathless.
“I do take walk-ins! Not normally on Wednesdays, but what were you wanting to get?” Terry looked away thinking, and Reign used that as an excuse to look him over once more, eyes roaming his heavily toned muscles. He was undeniably handsome, like fine as hell handsome.
He looked back at her and she tried not to squirm under his gaze. “I want to get something for my cousin, today was his birthday.” she watched his eyes darken to a murky green as his expression turned somber, “I’m thinking like 2 fists bumping together, can you do that?”
Reign bit her lip in contemplation and Terry’s eyes darkened even further following that movement. “I can, let me just draw up something for you. It shouldn’t take too long, how much time have you got today?” He gave her another ghost of a smile.
“I’m all yours. I’m Terry by the way, you own this place?” She shook his extended hand and quickly pulled hers back, feeling heat rise to her ears and cheeks.
“Reign, nice to meet you Terry. And yup, only been in this studio a few months. I was working out of my home before.” His eyes were piercing, she felt see through, and turned back to her desk to start drawing something for him. “Gimme like 15, feel free to look around!” She called over her shoulder, and it took Terry a moment to move, far too interested in watching her.
He walked around her space with purposefully loud steps, mindful of not startling her again and glancing at her every once in a while. He picked up a binder from a floating shelf in front of him, flipping through the pages to see her drawings and creative polaroids of her work. He found himself drawn to her black and white pieces, struck by how realistic her portraits are. He flipped through more and more pages hoping to understand how her mind works, how she was able to capture a moment in time so realistically.
“Terry!” Her voice calling out to him had him coming to her immediately, surprisingly eager to be used as her next canvas. “What do you think?” She put her iPad in his hands and he listened as she explained what she wanted to do with the shadows and fading around the edges, but his mind was going back to the last time he fist bumped Mike, the last time he saw him alive.
“It’s perfect.” His voice was tight with emotions and Reign watched his jaw tick at holding back all the things he wanted to say. She wondered earlier if she’d regret taking work on her off day, but sensing the grief coming from this man, it must’ve been divine timing that sent him to her today.
“I’m glad you like it. Why don’t you show me what size you want and where you’d like it?” Terry nodded and started taking off his shirt, and Reign took a surprised step back watching his body flex. He somehow looked even bigger now. She schooled her expression to be professionally indifferent as Terry pointed to his right pec, opposite his heart.
“Here, and this big” he measured it out with his hands and Reign gave an awkward thumbs up, not trusting her voice just yet. She turned to print the stencil out for him and cleared her throat.
“Okay, we can do that. For that size my rate is-“
“I’ll pay whatever you want. I’m grateful you took me in on your day off.” Reign shyly glanced back at him over her shoulder and locked eyes with his very earnest ones. She gave him a small smile and continued on to prepare everything she’d need.
Terry watched her steady gloved hands come up to gently press the wet stencil onto his skin, he bent his legs slightly to make it easier for her, and she whispered out a thanks. He didn’t say anything, transfixed by her presence, her gentleness, the sweet jasmine scent he realized was coming from her. He unintentionally flexed his muscles under her touch and watched her swallow tensely. He wasn’t unaware of his effect on women, but he liked that she was actively trying to remain professional. It was cute.
“You wanna take a look before we start?” Terry nodded and she showed him to a mirror, standing behind him and off to the side, watching his face for any signs of dissatisfaction. She finally got a genuine smile from him, tiny but meaningful, as his eyes gleamed at the outline of the fists on his chest.
“I love it” he turned to her and she could see the smile had actually reached his eyes, and she returned it right back to him “I’m ready.”
~~~~~~~~
Terry, reclined in the comfortable leather seat, swept his eyes over Reign’s decorated skin while she worked on him, taking in the mismatched beauty and history of her story. “Did you do any of these yourself?” He asked quietly, referring to the artwork scattered on her body.
She pulled back from his arm to get more ink and glanced up at his face giving him a secretive grin. She was becoming addicted to his voice. It’s so deep, and quiet. There’s a heavy bass to it that could’ve been intimidating and over powering, but she could tell he’s choosing to be gentle and laid back. It was creating a growing intimacy between them that she hoped he felt too.
“Mhm I did a few of these” she replied distractedly, now focused on putting more ink on her needle.
“Which ones?” She liked his curiosity, and liked that he wanted to talk.
“Hmm I did this one on my thigh” she said offhandedly, now getting back to work, the hypnotic buzzing filling the space again.
He studied the imposing and fierce Medusa taking up most of her thigh, some of the snakes cut off by her shorts. The details were amazing, it almost looked like a Greek statue. Terry was impressed she did it upside down and it still looked stunning.
He hesitated a moment, not wanting to upset the tranquil environment she’d created, but he wanted to know more of her story, now privy to the fact that the both of them have a painful past. He wants to know how she got to this point of inner peace, he wants to get there too.
“Is it true?…what they say about Medusa tattoos?” She blinked at his question and her hands stilled, caught off guard, having gotten lost in the music still playing and the buzzing of her gun and the black ink on his smooth skin.
Reign’s teeth worried her lip, biting and pulling as she debated whether to answer that or not. She chanced a look at his face and his piercing eyes locked with hers. She felt like a butterfly in an empty jar. Delicate, exposed, with nowhere to hide. Not everyone gets a Medusa tattoo for the same reason, but she knew exactly what he meant. She simply nodded and refocused her attention to the veins of the fist she’s crafting.
She continued working and missed the dark shadow that fell over his face. He was trying not to imagine what the sorry excuse for a human did to her, he was trying to ignore the urge to bring the matters of justice into his own hands. He was well equipped with delivering justice, and something about her let him know that she deserved her vengeance. She saw his fist clench from the corner of her eye, and she told herself he was reacting to the carve of the needle in his skin, not the weight of her truth.
“I’m sorry that’s part of your story.” She gave him a surprised little grin, taking note of the gruffness in his voice she’d heard before.
“It’s not your fault. Besides, every protagonist experiences canon events. If this hadn’t been part of my story, I might not have this passion for creating safe spaces for people.” He stared at her face, her brows slightly furrowed and tongue just barely peeking out of the corner of her mouth. Most of her attention was on marking him with pristine lines, so her honesty flowed from her unfiltered.
He took in the entirety of her studio again with a new perspective. The healing warmth of the sun seeping in, the calming music lulling him into a state of serenity, the sectioned off booths that created some privacy for her clients but not so much that they feel caged in, the art on the walls depicting black love and black excellence. Damn. She did a hell of a good job creating lightness when the world can be so dark. He found that inspiring.
He wanted to ask her more but “Take You There” began to play from her speakers, and her voice softly hummed along, she was lost in her own world and he was happy to let her be. It was interesting watching her work. She seemed reserved and shy speaking with him before, but now her hands moved confidently, her expressions changed as she concentrated, her scent was positively intoxicating and her braids tickled his skin every time she moved her face closer to his body.
The pain grew more intense as she shaded a particularly sensitive spot above his nipple, and Terry groaned quietly, tightly closing his eyes and leaning his head back to rest on the seat.
“I know I know, I’m sorry” Reigned murmured barely being heard above the sound of the tattoo gun, “You’re doing so well though Terry.”
He tried not to react to that, but the mix of the pain keeping him grounded to her, and her sweet voice, it was getting to him. He hoped she didn’t look down any time soon. She had to roughly wipe the excess ink away from his skin before continuing, and he instinctively hissed at her through his teeth.
“I know soldier, we’ll be done soon” his eyes flew open at that and she paused to get more ink, looking him over. “I noticed the work on your arms. I’ve given my fair share of military tats” He nodded, forehead slightly damp from this whole ordeal.
“Do you wanna tell me about this one we’re doing today? Just if you’d like to share, I’ll be done in about an hour.” He didn’t say anything at first, just taking a quiet moment to feel the influx of emotions that bombarded him today, and she didn’t push him. Then he began to speak, gingerly revealing what happened in Shelby Springs, compelled by her peace to find healing in this moment. His eyes were clouded over, lost in the turmoil of his past, that he missed her frown of recognition. She’d heard about the horrors going on there in the news. Her heart ached for him.
She let him talk, and she listened intently as she worked, nodding and humming every now and then. He grew quiet and his whole face softened with his eyes closed as Reign drowned his freshly completed tattoo in the cold saline solution, gently wiping and repeating the process a few times.
She gave him a sad smile, so many thoughts swimming behind her eyes as she cleared the emotion from her throat before speaking. “All done” she tossed her gloves in the trash can, “lets go take a look.” She stood first, bending and stretching, her back popping from where it was curled over his body. Terry followed suit slowly, standing to his full height and stretching his arms over his head.
Reign looked away quickly, walking over to the mirror to wait for him, begging her hormones to relax. This was not the time nor the place for this, he’s a new client for fucks sake. She shook her braids out of their messy bun to relieve the tension in her neck as she watched him approach from his reflection in the mirror. He eyed her form appreciatively, not at all subtle about it either, and she played with her hands, trying not to feel so small next to him.
His eyes finally landed on his tattoo and immediately tears filled them. He hung his head silently as the tears fell down his cheeks and Reign panicked, not knowing what to do or say to help. She stepped closer, letting instinct guide her hand to gently rub his upper back. She peered around his body, trying to get a glimpse of his face in the mirror, and she watched his chest heave one deep shuddering breath. He brought big palms up to wipe his face before he looked up again, keeping her rooted to the spot with his sincere gaze.
“Thank you.” his voice was so deep and swimming with emotions, and she felt a lump swelling in her own throat. He wanted to say so much more, but he couldn’t at this moment, feeling a dam break within him. He just stared at her, imploring her with his eyes to understand the impact of what she’d gifted him.
She nodded, rubbing his back one last time before stepping away from him. “You’re most welcome Terry, thank you for trusting me with your story.” It was his turn to nod, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She turned away from him and went to find the wrap she would use to cover the tattoo, giving him some privacy with this new piece of his cousin he’d carry around with him forever.
He made his way back to her when he was ready, and she began the quick process of covering his tattoo in protective wrap, explaining how to take care of it and telling him all the things he shouldn’t do in the next few days. Terry shrugged his shirt back on as she cleaned up the area they occupied, and he could fill a pit form in his stomach. He was hooked on her already, and the thought of leaving her so soon was bringing back the empty feeling he thought he’d left on the outside of her haven.
He sent her his payment from his phone, including an incredibly generous tip, and cut her off as she began to protest being paid double what she’d expected.
“I’d like to take you to dinner, Reign.” She froze, rich brown eyes wide behind her lenses. He kept going at her hesitation, “I’m pretty new to the city, and I haven’t met anyone worth knowing here until you.” He stepped closer, invading her senses with his provocative woody scent. “I’d love for you to show me all the places that make you happy, and I heard the quickest way to anyone's heart is through the stomach.”
Reign smiled at that, it somehow wasn’t corny coming from such a fine ass man. “You got me there soldier” Terry smiled back to her and took her phone from her grasp, placing his number in it and shooting himself a text. He looked at her from underneath his lashes giving the phone back, and she swore she felt her knees buckle at the devilishly playful glint in his eyes.
“Is tomorrow night too soon?” She couldn’t resist his deep voice and overwhelming presence even if she wanted to, and her body had been growing warmer and warmer the longer he stayed in her space.
“I-I can make time for you” she stuttered embarrassingly at feeling the rough pad of his finger brushing her ear as he moved a braid out of her face.
“Good.” He walked backwards from her, hands in his pockets which seemed to make his biceps bulge, and he smiled softly at her “I’ll see you tomorrow pretty Reign.” he turned and she watched him saunter out the back of her studio, her breath returning to her when he was no longer in sight.
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Fuuuuck I didn't realize writing something without sex in it was so hard 😅 idk if I have the stamina for a slow burn but I will certainly try, just know that the smut will come with a damn vengeance! Please let me know what you think! this is my first time doing an original character 🥲💕
Taglist: @teddybeerz @liatreads @eviescloset @sageispunk @planetblaque @soft-persephone @violetmuses @miyuhpapayuh @iterum-incipi @slutsareteacherstoo @blackgurlnhermoods @helloncrocs @megamindsecretlair
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
#terry richmond x reader#rebel ridge#rebel ridge fanfiction#terry richmond x black oc#terry richmond#aaron pierre#terry richmond fic#sweet tea and honey butter#origional character#original work#Spotify
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Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby
Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie
⚠️18+: sexual tension, drinking, characters are drunk, clubbing, flirting and pining, i won't spoil the content of the chapter
wc: 14.5K
A/N: It's been... months. I know this. I got into a real bad writer's block and I am not sure it is entirely gone, but I have finally finished this chapter after struggling. I don't like how it turned out, feeling like I was all over the place with the idea and no matter how many times i proofread I just cannot get it right, but I hope that for the next chapter I do better! I hope you enjoy it and I am so sorry for taking so long!
Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!
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CHAPTER 16
“Wayne…”
“It’s not that bad Eds, with the medication and all–”
“You don’t understand pops. This– Fuck Wayne… You can’t leave me like this, with this condition of mine I– I have no chance of a partner… I will be alone…” He couldn’t lose Wayne. He didn’t want to believe what he read in the doctor’s verdict after many tests done on the old man.
The medication would only stall the end. There is no chance that lung cancer can be cured, and if there is any at all, it should have been caught before the spread… which did not happen in this case.
“Eddie, you don’t know that… And you don’t know if I will leave you son, don’t get rid of your old man just like that.” And Eddie could see Wayne’s eyes glistening with tears through the camera on his phone. He knows his uncle did not like these results either. He knows. Eddie could only think of the test results and knew how much money the chemotherapy sessions would cost. He knows that medication and hospital bills will go off the roof and Wayne’s retirement money is not going to cover it all up.
So Eddie has to make a decision. He needs to make money, lots of it, and his auto shop in the city is doing amazingly well. He needs to leave Wayne behind at Hawkins, even if it hurts him. He needs to take care of Wayne. His friends are here too, and Argyle was also planning to move here. He wanted to at least try to keep Wayne healthy. As long as he possibly can because with Wayne gone…
He would end up all alone.
He lets out a grunt as he secures the last lug nut of the center hub of a tire with his impact wrench. He turns it off and places it on the floor, rubbing the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He looks at his watch and stands up, wiping his knee that he used for kneeling.
“Gareth, did you finish the–”
“Yes, I fucking did, and it was a bitch, and I don’t ever want you to put me through that again.” The younger man whined as he tried to scrub off the excess of grease that was on his hands. Eddie winced at the sharp tone of his voice, but Gareth needed to learn how to do it, sooner or later.
It’s not an everyday occurrence to fix someone’s motor. A point where it’s not working but not broken enough for replacement. Breaking it apart, bit by bit in order to find the problem of it all and then putting it back together. It’s extensive, and it hurts your brain but someone’s gotta do it, and Eddie had already done it several times-
“I will put you through it whenever I want. Remember that you take thirty percent of what this person pays for fixing it. It’s not a cheap fix, maybe you can finally go to Hawaii.” Eddie chuckles and Jeff snorts in the background as he stops inspecting the motor of a car in order to laugh. Gareth scrunches his nose at both of his friends.
“It’s not wrong for me to want to be on a nice beach, drinking a coconut and then splashing on Caribbean water later on! Maybe even have a nice cute Hawaiian girl dancing next to a palm tree.” Gareth sighed dreamily while Eddie and Jeff turned slowly towards each other and let out a very ugly laugh.
“Okay, um, nice imagination there Gar.” Jeff chuckled as he went back to checking his own car and Gareth simply huffed, puffing his chest out.
“You’ll see the pictures and you’ll envy me.” And he pushed by Eddie, walking towards the large sink that’s at the back where the toolboxes are. Eddie has a smile on his face as he then shakes his head and hunches over to see Gareth’s work on the engine. He inspects the bolts’ placing, if the vents were positioned correctly and–
“Boss, she’s back.” Jeff sings with a wiggle of eyebrows and Eddie raises one of his at him and then turns his head to see a woman, arms crossed over her chest, office attire on, short black skirt, black blazer with a baby pink blouse peeking from the V cut.
Compared to Eddie, who was wearing a white wife-beater and some overalls covered in grease, one strap down, and a messy bun on his head to keep the hair out of his face, and probably more oil. His eyes scanned the woman again, from head to toe, and he felt a little bit excited about seeing her.
“My favorite customer.” Eddie smiles as you tap your foot on the floor, wearing your low heels that are formal yet somehow modern.
“I swear to god Eddie, I am cursed. I am losing my patience with my car.” You whined out which only made him roll his eyes. For the past two months you and he had become friends, your car had to go into his shop many times because one week was the oil tank coming off and the next it was your radio malfunctioning, and Eddie had told you, time and time again–
“Your car is shit sweetheart.” You only gasped at his words and shook your head.
“No, it is not! It’s a little old, yes, but– It still runs.” You said, proudly so, sticking your nose up which only made Eddie squint at you.
“Mhm… and what happened to it now?” He asked with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes followed yours, and he noticed it. He saw how your eyes flickered to his biceps, how they puffed thanks to the press. He held back a smirk as your eyes found his again, your posture becoming straight once more.
“Well, I feel the brake pedal a little bit hard to press. It started this morning.” He tilted his head in confusion at that because he had looked over your brakes, and they looked fine, almost the best thing in your whole car. His eyebrows were furrowed together as he scratched the back of his neck in thought.
“Alright. Let’s go see.” And you gave him a nod before walking out from the open garage door. Eddie looked to his side as he followed right behind you and Jeff only winked at him before proceeding with his own car. Eddie rolled his eyes but then, when they centered back, they fell on your behind.
The skirt hugged you tightly, and it was the right shade of black for you. It wasn’t too short nor past your knees. It was a simple office attire, something that shouldn’t get him going the way it is. And it has been happening more and more as time went on. Ever since that stupid night where he got to taste you, even if briefly, it was enough for him to admit the attraction he had for you.
He had been trying to push that urge away. You are a friend, you two share the same group of people, and it would be stupid to enter into a physical relationship with you… But fuck if he didn’t want to turn you around, get your ass on top of the hood of your car and raise your skirt far enough that you would reveal yourself to him.
He wanted to wreck you, ravish every single part of you and his curiosity of how you are in bed sometimes gets the best of him. The whole year filled of pent up anger and frustration over you didn’t exactly leave. Even if you were at the top of his hit list before, you were also this forbidden fruit for him.
He had looked at you many times when he was supposed to despise you in body and soul. He hated himself when he caught his eyes staring at your cleavage more times than they should. Your body as it moved when you went clubbing with the whole group. Your lips against another person’s and how they moved gracefully against them.
And now, he tasted them. The softness, the flavor… and fuck he wanted more of that. It was greedy, he knew that, and he would have stopped these thoughts and these urges…
If it weren’t for the fact that he knew, he absolutely knew, you felt it too.
Ever since you broke up with Billy, the physical touches became more frequent, tentative, testing, and only just barely. A graze of fingers, a press on the shoulder, a bump, a shove. He could feel your eyes, he could feel you scanning him from head to toe whenever you all got together.
He noticed how unsatisfied you were, whenever you complained about the hookups you had been having lately. He wondered if you were ever fully satisfied with Billy, but maybe your feelings made you feel like you were.
And he wanted to show you just how good he could make you feel. He wanted to show you what his body could do, what his urges could impulse him to do, and what his tongue could provoke. He wanted to brand himself in your brain and on your skin, mark himself in your memory.
He wondered now if he could make a dent in your hood from how hard he would pound–
“Are you listening to me?”
Your voice took him away from his thoughts, and he nodded at you as he wiped his hands with the rag he had in his back pocket. You had turned around, at some point, and to be completely honest, the need of tainting you didn’t leave him one bit as he saw your scrunched-up face.
“Let me check the pedal, first and foremost.” With that, he rounded your car that you parked at the front of his shop, and he opened the driver’s seat. The smell of your perfume filled his nostrils and he took a deep breath in and leaned down, bending over to reach the brake pedal and press on it.
Only for his hand to stop in the middle of it as a laugh exploded out of him.
“What? Why are you laughing!?” You asked, confused and stunned as he straightened up and held his hand up that now held something, your face flushing in embarrassment as you choked on your words.
“Isn’t this fucking adorable.” In his hand was a small hand-sized plushie, a Squishmallow to be exact, and it was a little bat. He squeezed it a few times and he assumed it was kind of like a stress ball for you.
“I– It must have… fallen from my purse…” You wanted the earth to swallow you whole, Eddie could sense it, so he chuckled and squeezed it hard.
“I might keep him as payment. Matches my tattoo.” And he noticed your eyes drifting to his right arm and then back at the plushie, rushing over to him to try to snatch it away, only for Eddie to be quicker and move his hand all the way up. You frowned at him, a challenge in your eyes.
“You know what I will do if you don’t give it back.” And oh he knew. He is expecting it. He yearns to feel your body against his like that time with the Pringles can. The way you clawed up on his body, your nails digging into his shoulder as your chest was almost at his eye level when you tried to reach for the can.
“You cannot do that now, your ass will show.” He only smirked at you as your mouth opened and closed, like a fish, and you looked at the bat plushie in his hand. “You didn’t have to make an excuse in order to see me, Peach.”
You scoffed at him and shook your head as embarrassment washed over you. He could easily keep pushing your buttons, but even he knows about work schedules. Begrudgingly, he handed over the small plushie to you and you snagged it out of his hand in a second with a glare in your eyes.
“I didn’t. You and I both know that.” You turned around to face your driver’s door, putting the plushie inside your bag again as you fixed things around and Eddie couldn’t contain himself. He wanted to have a smell of your perfume coming off from you. He leaned close, breath at the back of your neck and his voice three tones lower, sending shivers and electricity down your spine.
“Do we now?” He saw your shoulders tense slightly and he wished he could see your face. More confirmations that this thing was not one sided. He took a breath in and your scent is floral today, sort of, matching the air around you, the incoming spring.
What he didn’t expect you to do was to turn around with a small smirk on your face, a cocky one and it made his eyebrow go up in question. Your eyes stayed on his as he tilted his head to urge you to talk.
“Sounds like you were the one who missed me, Munson.”
And that really sent him close to the edge. He wanted to shut that pretty mouth of yours up. He wanted nonsense to come out of your lips. He wanted his name to be said, to be yelled as you unravel under his touch. Drooling so much that you wouldn’t be able to formulate words.
“Cocky, aren’t you Peach?” You rolled your eyes at him, those pretty eyes he wants to see rolling to the back of your head.
“But you are not denying it.”
And oh you are playing a very dangerous game here because–
“Eddie, I’m sorry to interrupt your flirting session–” Gareth interrupted and Eddie almost growled at his friends as you stuttered, looking at his friend.
“Gareth– It’s not–”
“Sure, whatever you two say. Eddie, Mr. Gomez called. Said he wants to book a service for his collectible.” And Eddie groaned at that, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He was the only one in the shop who had enough training and experience to work with delicate cars. He is the only one that can take this kind of tedious and slow job.
“Right.” He sighed in defeat as he slowly turned to look back at you, his arms crossed over his chest. “That’ll be a hundred bucks.”
Your mouth fell open as your hand raised and swatted his shoulder, finally letting out a held-in chuckle from his throat, prompting you to smile as well. The relationship was different, yet it wasn’t. There’s just this back and forth between the two of you, more than simple bantering, more than simply getting on each other’s nerves.
And he takes full responsibility for it, the question is… do you?
“No. You even tried to kidnap Carlisle.” Eddie frowned at the name, not understanding what you meant for a second, to then snort out, his eyebrows raising up in surprise as he looked at you.
“You named the plushie Carlisle? Are you serious?” You gave him an offended look and raised your nose at him. He wanted to crack up, but he held it in, you looked way too adorable to say anything about it.
“You named your Mustang She-ra.” He groaned and rolled his eyes, hating the day he told you about how he always puts a name on his most precious things. His electric guitar is called Gilda, while his van is called Kratos.
“At least she is known, I don’t know where you got a name like Carlisle–”
“Twilight.” And Eddie could only hold it in for one more second before snorting and looking away from you, pressing his fist to his mouth. You only rolled your eyes at him and gave him a small shove on his arm which only prompted him to keep chuckling.
“Of course it’s Twilight.” He only comments as he turns to look at you again. You flipped him off as you got into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut. He smirked as he crossed his arms over his chest. “No payment?”
“You want a kiss or something Munson?” He knows it’s a joke, he knows it is but he also feels and hears the suggestion, the small and indirect invitation. He only smirks as he bends forward, his crossed forearms coming to a rest on the rolled down window as his face moves close to yours.
Your eyes express confusion, but your body movement betrays you as you don’t move away from him, not even an inch. His grin is visible and his gaze holds fire and want as he quickly looks over your lips and then back at your eyes.
“Can’t get enough?” His voice was low, and you felt your whole body grow goosebumps at it and how intensely he looked at you. It was just one push and your lips would touch his, you could taste him again, and even more than before… but you can’t. You both can’t.
So you pushed him off on his shoulder, making him chuckle and stumble away from your driver’s window, still looking down at you. You cleared your throat as you started your car again and fixed the rear-view mirror. Your eyes lit up and looked at him once more.
“Oh, today we’re doing the pre-game at my apartment, so just bring whatever you wanna drink Munson.” His eyes widened slightly at that but still nodded at your instruction. It’s been a while since the group went out clubbing, and it would be the first time he and you would also go out on good terms.
Before, when clubbing, you two stayed as far away as one could, the only incident where he got close being the one where a guy didn’t understand the word ‘No’. Now there’s no need for that separation, for that space… Would you two dance together? Hopefully not… because you don’t trust yourself not rubbing your body seductively against his. And he doesn’t trust himself in not grabbing your hips to pull you flush against him.
‘Get yourself together.’ You repeat in your head to yourself. Eddie is a friend. Just that and nothing more. He can’t be something more. It’ll ruin it. Curiosity be damned.
“Alright, we’re going to Scorpion, right?” You nodded at the name of the club, and he gave a hum of approval and tapped on the hood of your car to get you going. “Go before you are late to an important meeting or something, Miss Executive.”
“I do my job well, what can I say.” Your voice is confident when saying that and Eddie has no power in teasing you about it. He liked it when you were sure of something, much more when it came to yourself. “See you later Eds.”
“See you later Peach.” You gave him one small smile before you got out of his parking and drove off. He let a loud sigh escape his lips as he looked towards the sky, not noticing he was holding one to begin with.
How the fuck is he going to survive you tonight?
He remembers the outfits you wore when going out, and he had stared more than once in a single night. He hated you more than he did at the time for catching his eye. The dislike he felt for you gave him the stop sign to not flirt with you, but now– the only stop sign there is, is doubt.
He is perceptive, been so since a teenager, but you feel like a challenge. He never once doubted when approaching a woman to take home for the night, never had a long-term lover either, but you are different. Everything is different.
Even if you two have the same attraction and same need, how can he be certain that it won’t be weird afterwards? How can he be certain that it won’t destroy the group you two finally can enjoy together and in peace? Is he ready to sacrifice that in order to have a piece of you?
Now let’s say you two do end up having sex and continue doing so… what happens when one of you two decides to end it? Go for an actual relationship? How are you two going to face one another once that whole sex-buddy thing wilters into nothing? He doesn’t even know himself. He had always been confident but– this situation was new.
You’re no stranger. And that makes everything much more harder than before.
“Eddie! Mr. Gomez!” He can hear Gareth screaming from inside again and he turns with a groan and a frown on his face.
“I am going! Fucking christ!”
Those kinds of thoughts might need to be left aside for now.
—--------------------------------
You looked in the mirror to look at yourself one more time. You felt your heart race slightly from time to time and your belly turning as well, as if you had butterflies from nervousness and anticipation blooming inside.
And you know why. And you hate the fact that you know why.
You had cursed at yourself when you promised you wouldn’t shave and yet you still grabbed the razor that was sitting on the corner of your bathtub. You said you wouldn’t do a lot of make up to impress, yet you did a full face. You also said you were going to wear something comfortable tonight, not wanting anything but to have fun with your friends.
And now you had some high-rise oxford pants with a short crop top that had long bell sleeves, and high heels on your feet. Pants you often used to show off your ass when dancing. You wanted to literally punch yourself because you know who you want to show off to.
Why would you do this? To get some reaction from him? You already made up your mind that nothing was going to happen between the two of you. It cannot happen. The circle would break if you do… but maybe you end up not liking it and he feels the same way and you two end up as friends only?
That would be the best outcome. But what if you do like it and he doesn’t? That would make you feel horrible, and you know it because you want him to like it. To like you. To worship your body. You want him to remember you and even consider you his best. Maybe it is to show him what he has been missing for so long if he hadn’t been a douche from the start. Maybe it is because you just have an ego problem.
Either way, Eddie has made his way into your brain almost every day… and even in your dreams.
The first time you dreamt of him was after the quick peck you gave him back at his house. You went to sleep, a little bit of a carousel going on in your head thanks to the alcohol you drank that night, but even the spins didn’t stop your mind from imagining things.
You remember it, vividly so. He was at the end of your bed, standing and looking down at you. You were naked and felt as if you were burning all over, goosebumps forming in need of touch. His touch.
He was shirtless, and you could imagine it perfectly thanks to all those mirror stories he posted on Instagram. You could remember every tattoo he had. His chest, his neck, his arms… You remembered them all, even the smaller ones, and you wished you knew the ones on his back if he had any.
He leaned down, planting a kiss on your collarbone first, and you could feel the stubble on his face tickle you, send shivers down every skin cell of your body, goosebumps worsening. His hands, his big ringed hands that also were filled with ink, trailed your sides, exploring you and taking in every dent, curve, and chuckling at the feel of that chicken skin he provoked on you.
The chuckle sounded too real, so low that you truly believed he infiltrated your dream with a superpower he hid from all of you. Had he engrained himself in your brain so badly that you didn’t miss a single detail? You hadn’t noticed how much you’ve been wanting him till that night, and your body and brain let you know of that fact.
‘You won’t be able to fuck someone else ever again after me. Trust me on that Peach.’ That’s what he said before trailing his lips down your body, making you arch your back as his teeth often nibbled at different parts of your skin. You wanted those nibbles to turn into bites, teeth marking you, making you bleed, digging into the cells of your body until you were consumed by him.
He was reaching that part of you that ached for touch, for friction, for satisfaction. That part of you that can try to make the fire inside you diminish if touched or worsen it, but you wanted to find out. His lips kissed your hips, hands gliding downwards as you looked down at him only to see him looking back with a grin on his face.
You let out a moan as you parted your legs for him to slot better in between them, his teeth biting a little harder at the skin on your hip in approval. You saw him slowly lay down on his belly, his smile never leaving his face as you felt a breeze on your wet center. It felt too real, too vivid, too lucid. You felt the coldness of it, the air, the pleasure around your clit thanks to it.
But your body betrayed you that night and you jolted awake when your phone loudly rang, and the first thing you felt was the wetness between your legs. For Eddie. For Eddie Munson. You were wet for your past enemy, who became your friend, and now–
You didn’t know if you wanted to kill the person on the other side of the phone or thank them for stopping you from imagining stuff like that. It was just a wet dream you had and a friend was the protagonist. Those things happen, they’re normal… The problem was that the normal thing would be to feel weird and disgusted by it, but you felt the complete opposite.
You wanted the dream to continue. You wanted that dream to go on and dream of what it would feel like to have his tongue on you and inside of you. You wanted to know if your imagination was kind enough to let you feel it entirely, just like everything else. But it cannot happen. You should have been glad it stopped where it did.
But the dreams didn’t stop, and sometimes you found yourself daydreaming in your office about them again, making you straighten up or jolt whenever you caught yourself doing so. You couldn’t let your body indulge in it, and much less your mind.
It was no use. He just kept appearing in your instagram stories, and your eyes always looked for him in every room whenever you knew he was near or was going to be present. You are always eager to see him and it drives you mad. He drives you mad. And you hate him so much for making you realize–
That you want to ride him until he sees the earth from the moon or beyond.
Back in the present, you clench your eyes tightly so that you could forget those images, or how he leaned over today and his breath hit your face as well as his stupid cologne. It was leathery today, but also the hint of car oil lingered on him, which only made your stomach turn harder.
He knew what he was doing. You knew what he was doing. Is he brave enough and has the guts you don’t have to take the risk? Does he have the same lingering thoughts you do? The what ifs? The consequences of it happening? If he didn’t he would have done something already… right?
You can’t take that step yourself, afraid of ruining it all. You finally can be at peace in your circle of friends, you repeat this to yourself every time you think about him as more than just a friend. When you think about his naked body against yours. When you think of how he would feel inside of you.
Would he be able to satisfy you? Fill you?
You doubt it. But, what if–
You jump in your place as a loud ring snaps you out of your thoughts. Your intercom goes off as it yells at you that your friends have arrived. You took one last look at yourself and nodded as you promised that this thing you were doing wasn’t for Eddie. It’s just a passing attraction. Something that will die down soon if not indulged.
You sprayed one last bit of perfume before heading out of your room and into the living room area. You looked at the screen to see Robin smiling close to the camera with Steve and Jonathan behind her, waving at you. You shook your head at the goofiness of your friend and pressed the button to let them in, hearing the buzz through the speaker. They walked in and you unlocked your front door for them to just walk in.
You could feel your stomach turning a bit still, wondering if he would be in time, or if he was coming at all, and… the dread of seeing him with someone tonight. You didn’t think of that. Oh god, you didn’t think of– Why are you worrying? Isn’t it best if he goes with someone else tonight? Maybe if you see him with another woman, these desires will vanish… but what if it does the complete opposite?
What if you wish to be her? But he is nothing to you, just a friend, that’s it… You shouldn’t care if he goes with someone else, you really shouldn’t but why do you feel like you would be sort of hurt about it? Why do you feel like you are losing?
What did Eddie Munson do for your brain to be this mushed because of him?
You couldn’t think too much of it because Robin walked in, holding a bag as if in victory, letting you know she brought vodka for tonight. You winced towards Steve as he walked in through the door, already sighing at the night ahead of him as designated driver for her and Jonathan. Argyle was the designated driver for Nancy, Eddie and you.
“I swear Robin… I know it’s been a while since we’ve gone out but–” Steve started only to receive a glare from your best friend as Jonathan closed the door behind him.
“It’s been months! Plus, we can finally pregame all together!” And you were excited for it too. The pregames before being Eddie’s friend were a little tense, always on edge of saying the wrong thing in front of one another and making the night a bitter one.
Now another type of edge is nestled within you. Between you two. But it’s as if you cannot control yourself when around him. You always give a remark, a word, or a sentence with a double meaning, or you always one-up him in his closeness. If he brushes his thumb against yours, you brush your five fingers at the top of his hand.
If he makes a joke with a flirty tone, you follow it through… like today, asking him if he wanted to kiss you again. He was the one who continued it, getting close to you, testing you, not even in a teasing manner. You know it’s not one-sided. This thing that is going on is affecting the two of you, and it’s a matter of never doing anything about it or… waiting for who breaks first.
“Chill Robin, it’s going to be a calm night.” Is what you say but do you truly believe it will be? The twisting in your stomach came again so you walked towards your kitchen to get some beers out as the rest walked in, ready to prepare the glasses, snacks, and drinks. You immediately popped open a can and took a chug out of it, wanting to quench whatever was inside your stomach.
“Is it?” Jonathan asked with a chuckle, looking at how you immediately started drinking. You glanced at him and gave him an innocent smile, receiving a roll of the eyes back as he leaned over the island counter to grab a beer himself.
“Ugh…” Steve groaned as he looked at the beer, crossing his arms over his chest. “This is certainly not fair.”
“I drove us home last time. I held myself back because I knew you wouldn’t.” Jonathan chuckled and his boyfriend only glared at him in response, opening his mouth to say something to him only for the ringing to start again.
Goosebumps raided your skin from neck to toes. You moved a little too quickly as you walked out of the kitchen to rush to the intercom, looking at the screen. You felt your stomach twist when you saw him putting a cigarette out with a stomp as Argyle talked to him. Nancy was only shaking her head as she looked into the camera and waved.
You bit your lip as you pressed the button, taking a deep breath in as it buzzed. Eddie looked up into the camera before walking in and he smirked, flipping his middle finger up towards you and that made the tension in your stomach loosen a bit. A chuckle escaped you as you shook your head at his antics.
You can do this. If you keep this friendly banter like you always do it will be an easy task. It should be. You took a swig of your beer as you looked at the door and then back at the kitchen.
You have to appear uninterested because if you do, you will believe it. You have to believe it. Nothing can happen between the two of you, and it should be clear that it shouldn’t because your friends are in the kitchen, and more are coming up. This wouldn’t have happened months ago. Eddie entering your home wouldn’t have happened, ever.
You should appreciate what you have and stop asking for more. Stop desiring for more. Stop dreaming for more. It’s enough as it is, what you two have is enough. He’s been a great friend to you, letting you vent, lending you a shoulder, making you laugh, and it should be enough…
But that stupid fucking kiss always comes back.
The door opened making your head turn to see Argyle walking in first and immediately walking towards you to give you a kiss on the cheek as a greeting. You rolled your eyes as you smelled the weed on him already.
“Hello hello, my dudette.” He smiles at you as he looks behind him, making your eyes follow his gaze. Your breath catches in your throat as you see Nancy walking in, followed by Eddie who is holding a six-pack with one hand, the other stuck into the pocket of his denim jacket. Black shirt hugging his torso, tightly, the tattoos poking out from the small V-neck it has.
Your eyes drifted lower to see his signature dark pants with a few rips here and there, and then you went upwards again to see him in his– Your eyes widened when you just now realized he had his hair down. Your heart seemed to stop as you held your breath in because you only saw his hair down in those half-naked pictures he took of himself in front of his bathroom mirror.
And fuck– fuck–
“For fuck sake Nancy, told you you tightened it too much.” Eddie groaned out and you had to look away, you had to. But you couldn’t. He had you in a trance as Nancy rolled her eyes at him.
“Not my fault your hair is frizzy and untamed today!” You tried to control your own breathing a bit. He definitely caught you off guard with this one. You fucking swore his hair was tied up downstairs when you saw him on the intercom screen.
You snapped out of it by Steve yelling at Robin to stop. You sighed in relief as your eyes finally left his figure, landing on the kitchen’s open door, and seeing Steve taking the bottle out of Robin’s claws. You smiled knowing that she must have poured too much vodka on her drink, never knowing how to measure correctly.
“Oh the rest is here, Nance you’re gettin' lucky tonight!” Argyle yelled, not realizing just how loud his voice was. You snorted and looked away for Nancy to not see you laughing, covering your mouth with your free hand.
Eddie chuckled seeing Nancy’s reaction, her face beet red, but your snort made his gaze turn towards you and– God fucking damnit. You’re not playing fair. You really aren’t. He felt the sharp intake of breath that entered his lungs as he scanned your body, slowly, taking every inch of you and your outfit.
He knew it was going to be a hard night for him if he was going to hold back, but he never thought he was gonna go to war.
His hungry eyes scanned your figure, your neck, your shoulders, down your body, taking in every fucking detail he could. Your breasts, your hips, your thighs, your inner thighs… He was desperate to taste you, to try you, to have you.
“Don’t laugh!” Nancy’s yell made him snap his head back to his best friend as she continued talking, “Eddie needs a ponytail.”
The man mentioned only rolled his eyes, landing on yours again. You were already looking at him, and he noticed the little gleam behind them thanks to your whole facial expression, your body language.
The way he noticed how your breath picked up, your chest moving a little more elaborate than a normal pace, or how your eyebrows were sort of tense. Your eyes were open, yet he noticed how your top lids were slightly dropped. Your hands were gripping the beer can, tightly, and your legs were crossed while standing.
He could almost smell you from across the room.
“Here Nance, take these to the kitchen while Peach gets something to tame all this.” Eddie motioned to his hair and Argyle only laughed as Nance grabbed the six-pack from Eddie’s hand and walked into the kitchen.
“Can’t give you any tips my dude, my hair ain’t the same form as yours.” Argyle says before following behind Nancy. Your eyes followed them and then went back to Eddie who was already looking at you with a smirk on his lips.
“Can you tame it?”
And that question shouldn’t have made your entire insides turn. It shouldn’t mean anything but him talking about his hair, but you know it has a second meaning. You know it. He knows you know it and that’s why he does it.
So you always play along. Because you know it affects him as much as it affects you.
“I bet I can.” Your voice was low, eyes staying on his as you talked. His head tilted slightly in amusement, the tip of his fingertips itching to reach towards you, show you exactly just how untameable he was.
“Would like to see you try Peach.” And he took a few steps towards you, slow, boots hitting against the wooden floor, loud steps that matched the volume of your own heartbeat. He reached out and grabbed the can out of your hands and took a swig out of it. He then put it back in front of you, waiting for you to take it as his eyes held a challenging gleam, as if this was another test.
You knew he was playing cat and mouse with you, but you didn’t know who was who. Were you the mouse? Were you the cat?... No, you weren’t mousy anymore. You two were the hunters, but neither dared to pull the trigger to get the prey.
But you weren’t going to let this fucker get away with doing these kind of things so he would make you drool over him, to make you look desperate for him. Your body though… your body wants to see him squirm.
You grabbed onto the can and slowly brought it up to your lips, your eyes focused on the lid as you looked at the small drop of beer that was there, where his lips were just mere seconds ago. Your tongue darted out, and you looked back up at him before licking the lid clean from the beer.
His smirk dropped, his cockiness gone, as all that’s left was fire. A fire that was spreading rapidly and you were holding onto the large folding fan, intentionally waving it with a smile on your face. You fucking–
“Alright, I’ll find something in my room.” You talked and took a full on sip of your beer before turning around and walking towards your room. Eddie’s eyes immediately fell on your ass, as you swayed it side to side and he only scoffed at the situation, at himself.
The idea of not having you so easily is what made you more tempting, and it made him even more desperate to get you. He wonders if one fuck would cut it. If one fuck is all he needs for his curiosity to be over with you. If one fuck is enough to satiate this need to completely destroy you, ruin you, and make you lose your goddamn mind.
He doubts it.
He follows you across the living room and then goes into your bedroom. He takes a look around and now, enclosed in a space with you, in a space that is only yours made your perfume, your scent, grow tenfold. It almost makes him dizzy and fold over from how sweet, yet inviting it was. He wanted to press his nose in the crook of your neck and breathe you in, let you engrave yourself in one of his senses.
“Tidy.” Is the only thing that comes out of his mouth as you walk towards your vanity to open one of your drawers. You felt your heart beating in your chest as your eyes drifted to the mirror to look at your queen-sized bed and your imagination started being evil with you and your body.
Flashes of him pinning you against your bed came in a rush, like a camera shutter, picture through picture. The positions change in every single one. You gulped as you felt your center throb in need, so you straightened up and clenched your legs together, looking back down into the drawer.
If you had looked at him for just one second there, you would have noticed how he was now looking at you. His eyes ablaze, breathing growing elaborate as his nostrils flared…
“Well, of course, I had guests coming.” You finally grab a simple black hairband and close your drawer to then turn to him, ready to hand it over. “Here you go.”
A boyish smile broke on his lips as he walked over to the vanity’s chair to pull it out and sit on it, facing the mirror.
“You said you could tame it. Prove it.” You were stunned as you looked at him on the mirror. He wants you to do his hair? You cleared your throat as you got behind him and he straightened up as his eyes followed you, as if they had daggers in them just piercing you through.
“I don’t want to hear pain complaints, Munson.” He only chuckles at you, his smile making the butterflies in your stomach multiply for a split second.
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” And you didn’t catch the ulterior meaning of that. Your hands went towards his hair, touching it for the first time. You started brushing it a little bit with your fingers, your nails scratching his scalp a few times, sending shivers through his whole body as you kept going.
“I’m not gonna use a brush, it will just make the frizz worse Eds.” You take the time to comment as you feel the static on his hair. He sighs, nodding at your response.
“I know. I couldn’t find my comb today, so Nance brushed it out.” You groaned at the response, your eyes furrowed in a confused frown.
“Nance has curls, she should know that you don’t brush them.” He lets out a snort at your response, and you are glad that even if you feel that attraction towards him, there’s no awkwardness between the two of you. It calms you down, knowing that if nothing happens, because nothing will, your friendship will still be there.
“Right? And then she blamed me for breaking her hairband!” He complained, making you giggle as you examined his hair. Your tongue stuck out in thought as you grabbed hair from his sides and you pulled them back to hold them together. You looked at him through the mirror and you held your breath as he tilted his head to the side, examining the new look.
You didn’t think a half ponytail would make a difference on his face but– fuck it fits him. You’ve never seen him with one before, and now you hate yourself for being the one who discovered this new look. The butterflies returned, and you shifted on your legs as your core throbbed once.
“Um… do you like it?” You asked, trying not to sound strained as if you weren’t about to choke on your own drool. “I think that a bun is going to be untameable in a room full of sweat.”
He only chuckles at your thoughts and doesn’t miss the way you gulp or shift in your place as you look at him. Do you really think he doesn’t notice? Do you really believe that he is not looking at your every move?
“It’s different but– Can’t say I dislike it. It’ll do for tonight.” You nod and let go of the hair. You are now more precise in the amount of hair you are grabbing, combing it with your fingers before pulling it back. You want to mess with him as you see him close his eyes, enjoying the moment. You bite your lip, smirking, and you pull hard on his hair, making his head reel back.
“Oops– sorry–” But your voice is cut off as a groan, a growl to be precise vibrates in his throat, his adam’s apple going up and down, and you hear him take a sharp breath through his nose. His jaw clenches as his eyes open and–
“I dare you to do that again, Peach.”
Your whole body burns. The way he was looking at you is just– it was strong, threatening but not in a bad way. Not in a murderous way. It was something else… something that gave you the feeling that if you followed through and pulled his hair back again, the thin line that was separating ‘Friendship’ and ‘something else’ was going to break.
You want to pull it back. You want to. You want to see what he would do if you played the brat. You want to know what he would say. You want to test it, to try it, to taste it. Taste him.
But you let go just a bit as you nod, taking a deep breath in and looking back down at the hair, trying to not let him see how flustered you got, how nervous you feel.
“Sensitive.” Is what you managed to reply with, trying to keep the act that it was just a playful act and that it didn’t faze you. Trying to keep the act that you are not fucking horny for the man that is sitting in your room. Trying to keep the act that you do not want him to push you onto the bed and take you like a fucking animal.
Eddie’s body is a furnace. He wonders how much he can push you to the edge until you absolutely break. Until you are begging for him, until you grab him by the shirt to kiss him senseless, for him to experience a true kiss with you. What the fuck did you do to him? He has to pull himself together. Even if he is willing to take the chance and make a move, it doesn’t mean you are willing to take that same risk.
He understands you and respects you above all. If it happens, it happens, but it would never be without your consent. But he is not reading the signs wrong. He is reading them correctly and very attentively.
Right now you could have followed his lead, but you didn’t, so he will back off… for now.
“No, it took me a while to grow all this amazing hair. I won’t let you yank it and destroy it.” His tone became playful once more as you tied the bun behind his head. He smiled again towards you and you returned it, a little forced. He wants to smirk knowing that he made you a little nervous, not in an uncomfortable way.
“You’re a fucking idiot.” Your hands finally leave his hair and he looks into the mirror and turns his face a couple of times, a raised eyebrow in exaggeration that makes you roll your eyes.
“Acceptable.” You scoffed at his simple response and he chuckled, getting up from the chair and towering over you once again. He turned to look at you, his eyes finding yours as your bodies stood a little too close to one another. You didn’t know if you were breathing correctly or not at this point. “Thanks Peach.”
“N-No problem.” Fuck, you stuttered. “Anyways, let’s go back with the others before they think we killed each other.”
“I mean, we could have also fucked, but yeah, we should go before they drink everything.” And just like that, as if he hadn’t said the most shocking thing, he walked out of your room, leaving you completely frozen. You were staring at the door, mouth slightly open, eyes completely still in position as your blood began circulating again.
Your body was on fire, your mind a mess, mixing with his scent and with his words, making matters worse for you. You felt your heart beating in your chest as little butterflies flew all about.
You have to keep your head centered, your mind needs to recollect itself because you cannot show this in front of your friends. And that made you look at yourself in the mirror, face relaxing a bit as your shoulders slump down a bit. Friends. Yeah. You need to keep yourself under control, you are not an animal. You can fight this urge, you had before in your life with other people, you surely can now.
He is a friend. This crush, this attraction, will pass if not indulged.
You managed to take a deep breath before walking out of your room, grabbing your beer from the vanity, and seeing your friends having moved their endeavors from the kitchen into your living room. Your eyes fall on Eddie immediately as he sits down on your couch next to Steve, beer in hand and listening to his best friend.
“Now that’s a new hairstyle.” You heard the freckled man comment as you walked towards the chairs they grabbed from your dining table, putting them around the coffee table where all the drinks and snacks were placed. You sat down next to Robin who was preparing Nancy her drink, making you wince at the amount of rum she was pouring in.
“Robs, maybe let others manage the drinks?” You commented, making your friend glare at you, putting the bottle down.
“Why? You got something to say about my bartending abilities?” And Nancy only winced next to her, taking the glass Robin was preparing and pouring half of the rum into an empty cup. Robin’s mouth fell agape as she looked at her girlfriend.
“You do make them pretty strong baby.” You noticed Robin’s blush and you held in a smile as you looked to your front, seeing Eddie looking at the same thing, his eyes clashing with yours with a smile on his face.
You were both happy your two friends finally made it official, but it was still pretty funny to see Robin blush after acting tough and dominating in the flirting stance of the relationship. It’s a funny dynamic to watch. Robin huffed and helped Nancy fill the rest of the glasses with coke as you took a sip of your beer.
“So, this bouncer is a regular at Jonny’s?” Eddie asked as he looked at Steve and then back at Jonathan and the latter nodded as he drank a bit of his drink.
“Yeah, he’s gonna let us go in for free, even give us two free drinks and VIP section.” At his words, Steve frowned.
“You sure he isn’t trying to come onto you? Does he know you are taken, my love?” Steve’s voice was syrupy, making you giggle into the can as you looked back and forth, but you had to be honest and say that… it did sound compromising on the other guy’s part.
“Pretty sure, he is married, has two gorgeous kids even.” Jonathan smiled but the mention of kids only made your stomach curl slightly. You looked down at your can, not noticing the pair of brown eyes staring at you, gaze softening as he watched your body language.
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to suck your cock Jonathan.” Eddie says and that made you spit your drink into your can, followed by your laughter, making him smile while looking at you. “You know I’m fucking right!” and you could only nod at that.
“Y-Yeah! It– It doesn’t mean anything Jonathan, oh my god…” You coughed as you tried to stop your laughter, the comment catching you completely off guard. The rest of the group was laughing except for the couple that was just frowning, one in confusion and the other in anger.
“I– I swear it’s not, it’s just– He is a regular with his other friends…” You knew Jonathan was putting the puzzle together in his head while Steve only groaned exasperated, shaking his head at his boyfriend.
“We’re not going.” His voice was low as he took a sip of his beer and everyone, including yourself gasped and started complaining at him. Argyle even stood up, pointing a finger at him.
“The other guy already compromised, when he sees Jonathan with someone else, he can’t say ‘no, you cannot go in!’” He stated and you nodded wildly, looking at Steve with pleading eyes.
“If he does, his intentions would be obvious! He just won’t invite Jonathan again!” Eddie nodded at your statement and looked back at his best friend. There was a hidden intent in his mind to try to convince his friend.
He wanted to watch you dance in that outfit.
“Yeah man, he already told Jonathan he would let him through.” And Steve only groaned in defeat, rolling his head exasperated.
“Fine. But I will punch his face in if he tries anything at all and I hope I don’t see him in the bar either after this.” He takes a sip of his beer while Jonathan rolls his eyes, sitting on the floor next to Argyle once more. Everyone else let out a sigh of relief and the music played in the background.
And after a few drinks, cans of beer, and a few little games–
“Okay no, I didn’t say that! I said–” You yelled with a slight slur as everyone else tried to hold in their laughter, Eddie chuckling as he shook his head.
“You literally said, HEAR ME OUT, when I sent you a video of Venom… of Venom, Peach!” You were laughing, your eyes slightly red as you sat next to Nancy in the backseat, Eddie sat in the passenger seat, and Argyle was driving, completely sober. Nancy was cracking up as she patted your shoulder a few times.
“You’re fucking right though!” She said to you and you turned to face her and nodded wildly with excitement in your eyes.
“Right!? It’s the tongue!” And you two could hear a groan of disgust from Eddie and Argyle at the front of the car. Eddie was buzzed as well, eyes glossy from laughing the whole drive to the club. He has been going at you from a past conversation you two had with your weirdest crushes.
He thought his were weird… he was wrong.
“It’s– He can literally eat you alive in two bites!” Eddie yelled as he ran his hands over his face trying to stop laughing and Argyle only nodded his head, looking at Eddie for a second.
“Hot.” And Argyle’s response made the three intoxicated people in the car start laughing once more. When Eddie and you are together with your friends, the flirty bantering drops completely, and it’s moments like these that fill you with joy. It’s just when the two of you are alone that somehow the flirty remarks escape your mouth.
You don’t want those moments with your friends to be filled with awkwardness, or nervousness if something were to happen between Eddie and you. You might lose that forever, and not to mention losing Eddie as a friend. You doubt that friendships remain the same after having sex with each other.
But the beer in your system tonight… it’s being your worst enemy at the moment.
After parking and getting together with the others, you all walked the block towards the club. You could hear the music thumping already, making your excitement grow as you all went forward to the VIP line that was forming outside. Eddie stood behind you as Jonathan stood in front of you all.
His hand rested on your lower back as he guided you in front of him through the line so people wouldn’t bump into you, and you couldn’t even feel the chill of the night because of it. Not even after everyone got inside after Jonathan proved that the guy, the bouncer, was actually being friendly with him. The club felt humid, hot, and you still felt the lingering touch of Eddie’s fingers on the small part where your skin showed between your top and pants.
Your mind needed a distraction from it all, but when you turned and saw how the lights of the club hit his face just right, you felt your stomach do a complete turn, twisting into itself. He was smiling as Steve laughed about something to him while you all walked towards the bar. You had to get yourself together, this cannot happen, not at all. Your urges can be satisfied with someone else, or by yourself.
But you weren’t the only one who couldn’t look away. Eddie noticed it. All the time. He knew that his mind, even if hazy, wasn't playing any tricks on him. He looked at how you leaned over the bar, giggling with Robin next to you and pointing to the card to see what you would order. His eyes scanned all over your body, slow, and uncontrollably so.
The alcohol is making his desire even worse than before and his rational mind is slipping away slowly, that little thread of doubt of making the next step disappear each second and song that passes.
His eyes widen with Steve when he sees the bartender hand you a bucket full of ice with champagne and redbulls inside while Robin grabs various glasses. You turn with a smile on your face as you walk over to them again, Eddie crossing his arms as he scans you.
“Well, you gonna share?” He manages to speak loudly over the music as you smile up at him and shake your head.
“Not with you Munson!” You giggled at him as Nancy guided you all to an empty small table for you to put the bucket on. He laughed as Steve rolled his eyes, huffing again for not being able to drink at all as they walked to the table.
“Robin! Get your hands off the champagne bottle!” Eddie yelled as he snatched the bottle from Robin’s hands, causing the blonde to pout at him.
“Fuck off Eddie!” Suddenly, the table rattles as someone deposits another bucket filled with ice and beers. Steves turns his head to see Jonathan smiling widely.
“Invitation from the bouncer. His wife is the cashier of the bar!” Steve only rolled his eyes while everyone cheered for the free drinks. Eddie popped off the champagne easily as you jumped in excitement next to him. He chuckled as he began pouring the drink halfway into the glasses. You helped by pouring the redbulls in, filling them all up to the brim. Everyone except for Argyle and Steve grabbed glasses and clinked them together before starting to drink.
The buzz was good, minds becoming even more blurry and hazy than before, yet keeping the consciousness intact, except for Robin because she always poured too much alcohol in her glasses at the pregames. Steve was trying really hard to take Robin’s drinks away but she only avoided him, grabbing Nancy’s hand and yours with the other. You giggled as you tried to keep your drink steady in your hand as Robin pulled you both into the dancefloor.
You laughed when Nancy and Robin sandwiched you in between them as they grind against your body, listening to SZA playing in the speakers, the lights blinding you slightly, making you a bit dizzy in a fun way. You took a sip of your glass as your hips moved from side to side, slowly, unaware of the brown eyes that looked at your every move from across the dancefloor.
Eddie chugged his champagne down, his eyes moving away from your body to try to think of something else, for someone to catch his eye and to occupy his mind but nothing worked. The spin in his head only made him turn his head towards you again. Jonathan was chuckling, pecking Steve on the mouth many times, trying to make his boyfriend laugh, and it seemed it worked.
Eddie’s drunken mind couldn’t help but wander to more dangerous territory, a place where you are still not there, and Eddie is thankful for that. When he sees Nancy or Steve, he wonders if there is someone out there for him. He wonders if he even has a chance. He wonders if there is someone out there that won’t let him be alone for the rest of his life like he always thought he was going to end up as.
But even his intoxicated mind sometimes connects dots, and he is stricken by the realization that… if he makes a move on you, what is going to happen later? What if it escalates into things he is not used to? What if he curses you with who he is? With what he is? Would you even want him if you knew half of what he was and is going through?
That only prompts him to grab another can of beer from Jonathan’s bucket. He opens it and starts chugging it, only to feel a presence by his side. When he looks down, his eyes clash with yours. You are smiling, and by how your eyes are half lidded, he knows you are drunk, just like he is.
And fuck you look hot like this.
“Give me one?” You asked, innocently, your hips swaying slightly to the rhythm of the music still, and his eyes darted downwards to them before looking away and getting a can out of the bucket. He was about to hand it over to you, your hand reaching out to grab it, only for him to rip it away again, making you pout. “Hey!”
“Magic word?” He grinned at you, wiggling the can in his hand. Your friends were oblivious to you two, already used to the antics of bothering one another. Nancy and Robin were making out on the dancefloor, Jonathan was pulling Steve towards it while Argyle seemed to spot someone and disappear into the crowd.
You stared at his hand and then back at him. The buzz made you bold, your worries slipping, your thoughts disappearing, making the impulsiveness take over. You wanted to mess with him. You wanted to tease him. You wanted to be mean, desired, try to make that thread that separates friendship to something else waver a bit.
You took a step forward, your body sticking to his, and your eyes never left his in every movement. His eyes didn’t widen, but his breathing became elaborate as you raised yourself on your tippy toes in order to get closer to his face. You could smell the beer from his breath, the wooden cologne, the sweat, and it made your insides turn and melt in need.
His eyes went back and forth between your eyes and lips, not knowing where to stay. He felt his belly burn and ache, twist as your perfume invaded his space, your body heat invaded his own, and all worries started to vanish again. All thoughts, all rationality were rendered stupid as he looked at your lips.
“Please…?” It was soft, a whimper, a moan almost. Eddie’s brain short-circuited, not noticing his arm lowered as his eyes looked into yours. You were so close, and all he needed to do was wrap his arm around your frame and lean down, take your lips into his, kiss you stupid, senseless, make you yearn for more.
You were trying to keep a cool exterior, but inside you were in flames. Would it be so bad to have a taste? Would it really cause all the chaos your sober mind conjured up? Would it be so bad to kiss his lips again? To tangle your tongue with his? Take him properly?
He tilted his head slightly at you, the music, the people, all just became muffled background noise. He could feel your chest moving up and down, your breathing turning quick. He didn’t even smirk, not a grin, as he lowered his head towards you, his voice lowering a few tones, but loud enough for you to hear him. His lips were almost brushing on yours as he spoke.
“Please what, Peach?”
You felt your knees becoming weak, wobbling slightly at the closeness. Your heart was in your throat, beating intensely, making your breathing elaborate. His eyes were stuck on yours, waiting for your next move, for your next retort, to know if you would continue or if you would back out.
And you don’t want him to win. Not this. Not like your Mario Kart plays. He cannot win this. You won’t be the one to break. You placed your hand on his hip, giving it a soft press and you saw how he closed his eyes and you don’t know if it was the alcohol, or the vibrations of the bass in the club, but you felt tingling on your fingertips and what sounded like a groan vibrate in his throat before he opened his eyes again.
“Please Eddie…” His stomach turned at your whimper, at your pout, at the needy look in your eyes. You both don’t know what you were asking for any more. Your eyes were going back and forth between his and then his lips. He could feel his hip burning where you were grabbing him, his heart racing in need as his head moved forward, a magnet. He was going in and you noticed.
But it was short-lived, as you snatched the can out of his grip thanks to him being distracted and you took a step back and away from his lips. His eyes were wide, looking at you as you opened the can, moving your hips happily from side to side to the rhythm of the music, not looking at him at all.
You took a sip, and even if you wanted to look at his reaction, you turned and walked back into the dancefloor. Your nerves were all over the place, your mind twirling like a carousel because of the adrenaline, the alcohol, and the worry that the sober you will deal with the next day. And Eddie watched you walk away, his eyes burning and he did a quick turn to grab a can himself and chug it down.
He was angry. Oh so fucking angry.
He didn’t want anybody right now. He felt like a predator and he had to calm down. He had to drink alcohol for his mind to shut off, afraid of how he could act here, in front of all of your friends. He could care two shits for the strangers, he would fuck you in the middle of the dancefloor to show you who’s in fucking charge here.
Eddie didn’t like that thought. He cracked his neck and chugged the rest of the can down, hoping the alcohol would take effect soon. He spent the night talking to Argyle once he came back, who was not the dancing type, just like Eddie was. He had seen a few of his past hook ups walking by, batting their eyes at him, but he didn’t want anything to do with them. His arousal plummeted at the thought of sleeping with them.
After an hour, Argyle said he would be back only to leave Eddie alone again, but not for long. Someone patted his shoulder and he turned around to see Steve holding Robin up with Nancy on her other side while Jonathan held all their coats.
“Robin is already blabbering nonsense.” Steve stated and Robin giggled, wobbling in her place as she shook her head.
“You– are nonsense, dingus~” She slurred and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh and nod, looking down at Nancy.
“I am assuming you are going with them?” He asks, noticing his tongue is a little slurred too, his anger slowly lifting up as his friends offer distraction.
“Yeah– Can’t leave her alone you know?” He nodded at that and patted Steve on the shoulder and leaned forward to whisper into his ear.
“Go to Jonathan’s. Just in case.” At that Steve sighed and nodded, making Eddie chuckle.
“I’m not stupid, of course I’ll go to Jonathan’s…” He looked back at Robin who suddenly made a gagging motion and he immediately spurred into action, straightening her up. “Alright birdie, time to go before you make a mess of yourself publicly.”
Jonathan wobbled towards Eddie and gave him a kiss on the cheek and then a pat before walking out of the club first. Steve guided Robin out and Nancy gave him a hug and Eddie knew she was also drunk, hugging her back.
“Alright Nance, go take care of your girlfriend.” At his words, Nancy only giggled in delight as she pulled away and bounced a bit in her place.
“Girlfriend, she is my girlfriend, yes, I gotta go take care of my girlfriend!” With that, she rushes away from him, leaving him alone at the table where you all gathered your drinks. He looks around, the people dancing and walking around and he realizes it’s just you, him and Argyle… who he hasn’t seen in a while.
So he ventures forth. He leaves the table behind as he walks through the crowd of people, rounding the dance floor, and in just two minutes he spots Argyle with a chick. Eddie wanted to holler at his friend, but by the way she was dressed and from pictures Argyle showed him… this was the girl he had been seeing lately. His perfect date and match as he called her.
He took a step forward and he felt his mind spin slightly and now he is feeling that last beer he chugged. He felt light, with a good buzz, his limbs relaxed as he looked into the dancefloor, and his eyes immediately found you.
You were dancing alone, a little bit of sweat on your forehead, moving your head from side to side to The Weeknd playing through the speakers. His feet moved automatically towards you, unable to control himself. His anger from before was coming back up again, but it wasn’t in full force.
You were oblivious to your surroundings, not noticing you were dancing alone at all. The beer you stole from Eddie was still in your hand as you took sips, your hips going from side to side. You wanted the distraction, because your mind was becoming less rational, less conscious of your decisions, impulsiveness taking hold of your body movements the more you drank from that can of beer.
Some people call it liquid courage, but for you tonight, it was liquid demise. Much more when a strong hand pressed on your shoulder, making your eyes open and turn around, trying not to tumble in your place. Deep brown eyes with red all around were looking down at you with an eyebrow raised in question.
His forehead was a bit sweaty, so his fringe was sticking to it. His hair was a tad greasy, making it look kind of wet, which only added more to the look. Your stomach only turned even more at the sight, and he leaned forward, his breath hitting your ear which made your center only pulse for him, asking for him.
“Everyone else left Peach. Argyle is with Eden in a corner here.” He whispered to you and you nodded a bit, but words were stuck in your throat from how low his voice sounded, of how close he was. His breath sent shivers down your spine as it hit your ear, squirming at his mere presence. You licked your lips as you took a sip of the beer and he pulled away.
“What happened?” You slurred and Eddie only laughed at your tone making you pout. He noticed the pout and he bit his bottom lip in order to not succumb to the alcohol’s impulsiveness.
“Robin was about to pass out. Nance went with her.” And it dawned on you that you two were alone… the only friend in the club was occupied, distracted, eyes averted from the two of you.
“How come you are not drunk?” You yelled through the music with your pout intact and he rolled his eyes, which was a bad idea because his head only whirled around and he only laughed, making you tilt your head confused but still smiling at his display.
“Oh, no, I’m drunk– Trust me, that last beer is starting to hit.” And you noticed the slight slur in his words, making you bite your bottom lip as you saw him smile, his canines showing in the middle of the purple lights of the club.
The song ‘Pray for me’ started playing and you threw your head back in delight as your hips started swaying seductively, taking a sip of your beer. Eddie’s smile slowly dropped as his eyes scanned the expanse of your exposed neck, the sheer sweat and glitter on your skin as he throbbed inside his pants for you.
You opened your eyes again, a smile on your face as you let the impulsiveness of irrational actions take over. You grabbed his hand, ignoring the shock that was sent to your fingertips, smiling innocently at him.
“Dance Munson!” You yell through the music as you turn around in order to give your back to him. He sucked in a sharp breath as you moved in front of him. His eyes roamed your body as it moved from side to side and his hands itched for more. You were still holding his right hand and his throat bobbed as he felt shockwaves through his body thanks to your touch.
You knew what you were doing, but you couldn’t care anymore. Your rational mind was gone, even if conscious and knowing what you were doing, you cared two shits for the consequences of your actions. Will you regret it the next day? Probably, but right now you just want to bask in this attention, in this need.
You took a sip of your beer as you moved lower, your ass almost touching him as you swayed it, and then straightened up again. Your breath catches in your throat when the hand you were holding lets go and starts gliding over your arm, slowly, and then goes downwards to grab onto your hip.
A strangled moan escapes your lips when his body is suddenly pressed against yours. His chest on your back, and his hips against yours. His other hand went to your hip but moved a bit more to your front, pressing the side of your belly with the tips of his fingers. That simple action made your pussy clench onto nothing.
You feel his hips moving slowly against yours and you press your ass onto him even more. You have danced close to Steve and Jonathan before, even Robin, but with him it was different. This wasn’t just a friendly dance. This is so much more. Every touch means so much more than just that. Every movement was intentional now, the alcohol controlling the both of you as the music guided your hips.
His face came close to your ear, his breath hitting your skin again, and your heart jumped to your throat as his fingers dug into your hips, your flesh, and it was making those areas burn. Your hips moved very slowly, never stopping as he talked lowly to you, tickling you.
“What do you think you are doing Peach?” You licked your lips as a sigh escaped them afterwards. In all honesty, you didn’t know, your mind is not ready to think of an answer to that right now. What were you doing? What was your plan? What’s going to happen?
That’s something you can worry about tomorrow.
You slowly turned around in his arms, looking up at him, squinting your eyes. His face was close, his breath and scent driving your senses to an overdrive. Your eyes were half-lidded thanks to the intoxication in your body, and his face was showing hints of redness as well. His right hand rested on your hip still while the left one moved upwards, getting hold of your waist.
“I’m just dancing… with a friend.” He wanted to laugh at your response. You were such a fucking bitch. You still dared to call him a friend after your words, after your ass pressed against his dick. His face became stern as he looked down at you, his fingers giving a warning press onto your hip.
“You are overdoing it tonight, sweetheart.” It was a threat, a line he was drawing between the two of you. You knew you were. You knew you were being a fucking idiot, but you couldn’t help it. Your eyes were fixated on his lips, and you shouldn’t do this while drunk. You shouldn’t but– when else were you going to?
Your arms went upwards and wrapped around his shoulders, the can of beer gripped tight on your left hand as you looked up at him. You pressed your chest against his as the hand on your waist moved towards your back, splaying his palm over the expanse of it to press you into him.
You two were drunk. Not smashed, but you can both blame it on the intoxication. It’s a good excuse. A perfect one. This is just the alcohol’s doing, just the stupidness of the drinks you took through the night taking effect. It was an opening, a leverage, an opportunity.
And you were going to take it.
“Oh, and you aren’t?” You mumbled as you pressed yourself closer to him, and everything around the two of you ceased. The music became low, suppressed, and reverbed even, as your ears pulsed at each bass drop. His body was broader than yours, his body felt hot against yours as his hands gripped you, his head lowering with a smirk in his face.
“Did I? You sound bothered.” Your lips were almost there, about to touch, even if barely. His breath was mixing with yours. You could smell the beers, and you could feel how hot the air around you two was. His fingertips were driving you insane, and your impulses talked for you.
Fuck this.
“Shut up Eddie.” And you connected your lips to his. Your brain short-circuited, completely, it felt as if the oxygen left it, leaving only fog, haziness, bliss. You sighed into his lips as he breathed out a moan, a very low satisfied moan.
He didn’t hesitate to move his lips against yours this time. This wasn’t going to be a peck. He needed to kiss you correctly, as it should have happened. His grip on you became stronger, his blood pumping rapidly through his body as the alcohol and hormones started to fight his consciousness, what little was left.
You dropped the can to the floor, not caring where it landed, there wasn’t much left anyway, you needed to grip his hair, get your fingers through his locks the way you have been wanting to do for so long. So you did just that. Your hands ran from the back to his neck towards his scalp, fingers digging where they could, the tightness of his half ponytail already loosened through the course of the night, letting your nails run freely.
Your lips melted perfectly with one another’s, satisfaction in both of your hearts, but you know this won’t fill you. You know this satisfaction is temporary, a small victory, so you will enjoy this for as long as you can.
He groaned into the kiss when he felt your nails scratch his nape. He felt himself twitch in his pants, wanting friction against you as he let go more each second that passed, which was dangerous. The hand on your hip traveled south, and ended grabbing a handful of your ass cheek, making you moan in surprise.
He took your moan as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and fuck– fuck he was ruined. He was in trouble. You were so sweet, even with the beer taste still lingering in your mouth, on your tongue, you tasted so sweet. Like a fucking peach. He couldn’t help the possessive moan that escaped him as he gripped your ass tightly once more.
You felt wetness pooling between your legs, the idea of doing something you really shouldn’t adding to the adrenaline, to the sensuality of the situation, but you couldn’t care less right now. All you could think about was Eddie. Eddie and his taste. Eddie and his tongue. Eddie and how fucking good of a kisser he is. Eddie and his big hands grabbing onto any part of your body that he could right now. Eddie and his tattoos. Eddie and his shirtless pictures. Eddie and the happy trail that always peeks out when he takes them.
His tongue danced with yours, desperately, sloppily, all saliva and teeth, as if this was something you two have been yearning to do for more than you actually think. And maybe it was indeed that way. You just wanted to keep kissing him, but you also wanted to take him home. You wanted to fuck him. You need to fuck him.
And Eddie won’t be satisfied with this. He knows it. Even in his drunken mind, he knows he won’t be happy until he has you completely. He fucking hates you for this, but he just decided to not care for the consequences. Sober or not. If he doesn’t have you anytime soon, he is going to explode, that’s how he feels. He needs to consume you. Taste you. Claim you. At least once.
You two don’t know how many minutes you spent it making out, like two horny teenagers, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care at all. Everything else didn’t exist right now. It was just the two of you, and your eyebrows twitched as you opened your eyes through the kiss and–
Oh, you were completely drunk. Opening your eyes was a mistake.
You pulled away, recovering your breath as your head fell backwards, eyes closing as your consciousness started to slowly slip away from you. Eddie’s eyes widened, his protectiveness overlapping his lust and his intoxicated state. He held you tightly, feeling you grow limp with each second that passed. He was breathing heavily as he looked at you, shaking you a bit in order for you to open your eyes.
“Peach? You alright?” His worried voice felt like a distant echo. You just wanted to sleep, your mind feeling as if it were on top of a horse in a carousel. It wouldn’t stop spinning, and you were starting to feel so sick.
“Mmm…” It’s all you managed to voice out as you opened your eyes, just a bit, and Eddie noticed that the last beer hit you harder than it should have, and what you two had done just now probably made it worse.
“Alright, time to go home, let’s get Argyle.” He held you close, and the only thing you felt was as if you were floating. The lights in the clubs were dizzying, your head swirling and your stomach ache worsening. You couldn’t even think of regret for all the drinks you took. You just want to be at home and make this uncomfortable feeling wash away.
You know you were being carried, moved, and it all felt like a rollercoaster. You don’t even know if you puked or not. All you know is that at one point the flashing lights stopped, the hum of an engine was heard, and then you swayed from side to side as your head laid somewhere. On something strong.
The often pinch on your waist waking you up from falling into slumber. More swaying, more ups and downs, and then your feet were no longer on the ground. There were warm lights, and the sickness sort of dulled through this whole amusement park tour you just did.
Then, softness. Just softness. You could finally close your eyes, hoping for this feeling to go away. Hoping that tonight would be forgotten, or hoping that whatever happened tonight would be enough. Sleep overtook you quickly, easily, but your dreams decided to still invade you. Sober you will wake up tomorrow… and probably regret it all.
But… that’s a problem for the you of tomorrow. For now, you’ll just enjoy this dream. One where a certain metalhead touches you all over, his tongue running on every inch of skin, kissing you senseless as he rubs onto you, caressing you. This was the only way it would happen, wouldn’t it?
And you slept soundly, with the scent of cologne all around you.
The wooden cologne.
end of chapter 16
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A/N: I DONT' THINK I CAN APOLOGIZE ENOUGH FOR HOW LONG I TOOK IM SO SORRY.
Taglist is closed! I will start deleting people that do not interact with my posts.
Taglist: @katethetank @seatnights @bebe07011 @seventhlevelofhell
@babez-a-licious @arsenicred @bl4ckt00thgr1n @harrysgothicbitch
@fictionalcomforts @sarcastically-defensive17 @lodeddiperrodrick @corrodedcoffincumslut @ghost-proofbaby
@take-everything-you-can @nope-thanks @eddiesxangel
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fics#eddie munson smut#stranger things#fanfiction#eddie munson ff#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#omegaverse#alpha omega#alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader#alpha eddie munson#alpha beta omega#abo#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fandom#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson stranger things#eddie x you#eddie x y/n#eddiemunson#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x reader#eddie x female reader#slow burn#smut#enemies to lovers#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff
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The tiger shark is a species of ground shark, and the only extant member of the genus Galeocerdo and family Galeocerdonidae. It is a highly nomadic species which inhabits tropical and subtropical waters world wide up to 3,000ft (900m) in depth, and is often found in coastal waters with particular abundance in the gulf of mexico, Caribbean sea, Indian ocean, and western pacific. Tiger sharks are often call the garbage cans of the sea and have reputation for eating almost anything. As such there diet is wide and heavily varied an is known to regularly include: small fish, jellyfish, crustaceans, cephalopods and other mollusks, rays, skates, sawfish, sea birds, sea snakes, sea turtles, other sharks, dolphins, seals, sea lions, dugongs, manatees, crocodilians, porpoises, and sick or injured whales. When near islands or coastlines they have been known to eat sheep, goats, dogs, pigs, rats, horses, deer, cattle, cats, camels, monkeys, inland birds, bats, lizards and inedible objects, such as license plates, cans, tires, books, boat oars, soccerballs and baseball bats. Tiger sharks are themselves occasionally preyed upon by orcas, great whites, and saltwater crocodiles. The tiger shark commonly reaches 10.5-14ft (3.2 -4.26m) in length and 385- 1400lbs (175 – 635kg) in weight, with the largest recorded reaching 18ft (5.5m) long and 3360lbs (1525kg). This ranks the tiger shark amongst the largest extant sharks on earth only being surpassed by the whale, basking, great white, pacific sleeper, Greenland, and blunt nosed sixgill sharks. They have a broad snout and stocky body with proportionally large fins and a long upper tail. Tiger shark teeth are unique with very sharp, pronounced serrations and an unmistakable sideways-pointing tip. Such dentition has developed to slice through flesh, bone, and other tough substances such as turtle shells. In the northern hemisphere the mating season takes place from march to may and the southern hemisphere from November to January, with males breeding every year while females breed once every 3 years. After a year long pregnancy mother tiger sharks give birth to 10 to 80 pups. Under ideal conditions a tiger shark may live upwards of 12 years.
#pleistocene#pleistocene pride#pliestocene pride#pliestocene#fish#shark#shark week#tiger#tiger shark
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BEHOLD THE KENNEDY TWINS, PARKER AND BINNA :D
The fraternal twins have a finalized design after months of pulling shit out my ass lol. Sometimes I get lazy sorry.
I feel like out of all the characters from the Resident Evil franchise, Leon having fraternal boy and girl twins just makes so much sense. I just know this man wouldn’t be ready to have a baby but ends up getting Eunjoo (my OC) pregnant and she wants to keep it, and after panicking for long while Leon’s just like “oh well it’s 1 baby it can’t be that bad—“ BOOM 2 BABIES!! I love it. And not just for my OC, I think fraternal twins suits Leon in general for any other characters he’s shipped with. That being said, I did my best to replicate both genes of the parents. Binna being darker-skinned but has Leon’s hair color and eyes. Her facial structure represents more of her mother by having a wider nose and rounded face. Then Parker having fairer skin but with his mother’s textured hair and eyes. His facial structure definitely takes on more of Leon with his slender nose and sharp features.
The twins were born on April 2nd, 2008. Making Eunjoo just under 25 and Leon 31. Parker is older by 2 minutes, Binna is the baby. Leon named Parker, Eunjoo named Binna. Then they it switched for their middle names. Binna (빛나) is a Korean name, meaning “to shine”. Aury is a Latin name commonly used around the Caribbean and means “Gold”. Joon (준) is also a korean name, meaning “ruler, talented, handsome”. Around the age they are in the illustration, they are in recruitment for training to be agents like their parents. Although both parents are against them going towards the line of field they work with.
I’ll eventually put out a lot more info for them when I do their individual character sheets, but feel free to ask questions or just tell me what you think about them!
#leon kennedy death island#leon kennedy re4#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil#resident evil fandom#biohazard death island#chris redfield#claire redfield#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy#re4r leon#leon kennedy x oc#resident evil oc#resident evil original character#biohazard#biohazard 4#jill valentine#rebecca chambers#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil x oc#resident evil fanart#resident evil 2#re4 ada#re4r luis#re4r fanart#re4 ashley#oc x canon#digital illustration#digital art#fanart
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Hello! I am here for the twst matchup (romantic, please) and no first years or the teachers .Thank you, and have a good day !
**Appearance:**
I'm a 5'5" girl (165cm) (she/her, straight ). I am a brunette with short dark brown hair, round light brown eyes ,and transparent framed glasses. People often say I have a soothing aura when they look into my eyes. I have a round-ish kinda face with big cheeks, a small nose, and defined lips. I'm pale cause I mostly stay at home and avoid getting a tan. I have 8 beauty marks on my face. I have eyebags, which might be due to anemia, and I always look tired unless i use blush , i care about my skin doing skincare and such(i try(i want to be beautiful🥲).people say I am cute and pretty but it's hard for me to believe them (insecurities and self doub go brr...)
**Hobbies:**
drawing (digital and traditional ). I adore all forms of art, paintings , music , sculptures..ect .I enjoy reading, although it's been a while since I found a book that peeked my interest ,I mostly read fanfics recently . Video games hold a special place in my heart, I LOVE the different art styles and plots in each game. I have some sewing skills, mostly for patching things up .I learned to crochet and knit recently as well .Crafting is another hobby I enjoy, I am good with my hands. I love learning new stuff. biology and chemistry r my fav subjects(i like learning about anatomy whether it's animal's or human's +plants in the medical field ). I speak 3 languages: Arabic (native), French, and English. I plan to learn Spanish, Italian, or German next, depending on my mood. I'm a quick learner and adapt easily to different situations(that's something I admire and take pride in) .i hate and can't cook, except eggs and simple stuff.but in baking ,if you give me a recipe, i will make the most delicious desserts you've ever tasted(but I still hate it). Anything involving lemons is delicious (especially lemon tart😋).
Even though I am a good swimmer (I did swimming for 2 years) I have thalassophobia (ironic) but i do like me some facts about marine biology, with jellyfishes, anglerfishes, and Caribbean reef octopuses being my favorites.
**Personality:**
My personality is quite flexible and depends on both the people I'm with and my mood. When I'm outside , I tend to feel anxious, although I do my best not to show it. I come across as calm, chill, and reserved, but I'm friendly and won't reject anyone who wants to chat, although I dislike small talk and feel a bit uneasy around boys I can be quite sarcastic with a sharp tongue at times, kinda(really) annoying. Once I get comfortable with someone, you'll find I'm pretty blunt and honest .I am polite and respectful. I've had trust issues due to past betrayals, so I'm cautious with my relationships now (whether it is friends or family ,no lover tho ,don't get me wrong i can be quiet the romantic but the only man that I would probably get attached to would be fictional for sure lol)
With my close friends, I'm more open, and relaxed and cheerful?. I talk a lot about my interests, sharing random facts . I'm caring and sweet toward my friends . My love languages include gift-giving, physical touch.
I would describe myself as creative, observant, passionate, smart, meticulous and a perfectionist.I can be lazy and unmotivated. I am an INTP-T, Enneagram 5w4, and a Libra. I'm an older sister.
I am a burnt-out gifted kid , but I try to be the best version of myself in all aspects(i admit i do feel down thinking that i am never gonna make it ,but i always try to push these thoughts aside).I often feel I'll never be good enough for my mother (she has high standards for me that I can never seem to meet). I was bullied cause of my looks and weight, which made me depressed and anorexic for a year. Thankfully, I've changed a lot over time, tho it affected me making me antisocial, having trust issues and insecurities(but i am getting better). I like energy drinks. My music taste varies from pop, alt/indie, classical( my fav pieces are moonlight sonata 3rd movement, danse macabre , in the hall of the mountain king and la campanella ) ,jazz, to rock/metal, with a particular love for rock & roll. Comfortable baggy clothes are my go-to(makes me feel good in my own skin) .
***what I prefer in a partner?***
Anything is fine really , smart maybe? ,I can't cook so a good cook ,I just want someone to listen to me and make me feel included ,never getting annoyed by my behaviour and my clinginess , I want someone who I can truly be myself with (flaws and all)
I'm soooooo sorry for taking so long 😭
Tried to add some extra detail to make up for it <3
Hope you enjoy 🙏❤️
---
I match jellyfishuuuuu with...
🐍 Jamil Viper 🐍
-:-:-:-
You are one of the few people who have gotten to know the true Jamil behind all the walls he puts up. He never puts on a mask around you, always being as genuine as possible.
He adores you quite dearly, you'll often find him just staring at you from afar, even if he doesn't realize it himself. He just wishes to cherish you, and make you see just how precious you are, to him, and to your companions. He needs you to know just how much he thinks you're worth, constantly going to the extra lengths in your relationship, determined to make you love yourself as much as he loves you.
Everyone knows how good of a cook Jamil is, but he gets on a whole other level when cooking for you. He pours his heart and soul into each dish, every time. He'll be by your side as you eat, analyzing every reaction so he can make the next meal even more delicious for you. He's also very willing to help teach you how to cook.
If worry ever shows in your expression, he'll pull you aside to ask after your wellbeing. He won't take "I'm fine" as an answer either, he wants to listen to what bothers you, he wants to help in whatever way he can. He's always there to comfort you, making time even on the busiest of days.
Jamil's constant responsibilities can tire him out. Allow him to lay across your lap, or if that's too uncomfortable, lean on your shoulder, and he'll relax extraordinarially. He'll slowly doze off, fingers intertwined with yours, feeling at peace knowing you're there with him.
You guys swap clothes a lot, seeing as though you have similar styles. If you're missing a hoodie, I'd check his closet.
He's very patient. If you're ever not in the mood to socialize, or don't feel like being around him for whatever reason, he'll respect your wishes and leave you be.
He's impressed by your affinity for languages, even asking if you'd be so kind as to teach him some words or small phrases.
Constant praise. For the big things, for the little things, he wants you to be proud of yourself. You can tell he means every word of it too, by the way he looks at you with such adoration.
Since you like crafting, you could probably give him hand-made gifts. He'd find great joy recieving something from you, always treating you extra, extra special afterwords. The next day, you'll probaby be bombarded with triple the amount of gifts you gave him though, each more heartfelt and thought-out than the last.
Extra stuff as an apology for taking so long:
Before Jamil and you started dating, Kalim would constantly make excuses to have Jamil invite you to Scarabia, only to goof off elsewhere and purposely leave the two of you alone. Kalim was practically the matchmaker for you two, Jamil probably would have had noooo idea how to ask you out otherwise. Kalim was also the first to figure out Jamil had feelings for you.
If you ever wake up to frantic, jumbled texts, Jamil has been found by a bug. Please save him 😔
Your first date together wasn't really 'official' more like Kalim organizing the event then dipping at the last minute. He booked a real fancy restaurant, and only cancelled when both you and Jamil were already seated.
He pokes your forehead and sticks his tongue out at you when annoyed. Kinda childish.
A song for the relationship:
My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski.
Other options: Trey, Idia, Malleus and Ruggie.
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@conjurerandking || Continued from here
Loki listened to her explain her faith in Jack, and Loki just couldn’t help but think of it being blind faith and nothing more. He shrugged at her question, he couldn’t really explain it. “I just have a bad feeling about this island.” He summed up, not content with depriving her of at least a simple answer. He looked at her, and she had gotten much closer than before, a grin spread over his lips and he watched her, intently.
When she touched him, his stomach fluttered internally and his grin softened to a sultry smile. She was toying with him, and he was just captivated. A boy in love for the first time, it seemed. It was like he had forgotten what he had seen just hours ago.
Loki lifted his feet a little, hooking the heel of his boots on a branch so that now she was standing right between his legs, and he leaned over her a little bit. He couldn’t answer her question honestly. How could he say that he had thousands of years of experience without actually saying that? “I told you, it was not as bad as we initially thought.” He answered smoothly and his eyes hooded slightly. “And I am just That good, darling..” His voice dropped an octave, just loud enough to hear over the waterfall behind them.
“Trying to understand me is a slippery slope…” He warned and slowly got down from the log he had been sitting on, stepping into the water with her now, towering over her a bit more. He took small steps into her, egging her to back down, even in such an innocent scenario as this one. “One that I think you are not ready for, even if you are ready for just about everything that comes to you.” He was backing her into the wading pool again, waiting for her to come to the drop off and when they did, Loki slowly held her waist so she wouldn’t stumble or sink, and his tip toes could still just barely touch the rocks below.
Elizabeth remembered how Leo had behaved during their journey. The look of his eyes resolute, calm, and animatedly alert, as never before. Perhaps he was right and this island was a dangerous place to be wandering around. Then again, what place could be considered a safe environment? Especially in the Caribbean.
Her heartbeat elevated when his voice dropped an octave, her eyes unable to look away from him. If it were anyone else she would have dropped her gaze, but with him she was drawn in closer. Her eyelashes fluttered in response as he got down from the log, unconsciously stepping back when he tried to invade her personal space. Something about the way he moved was bewitching.
“Are you really?” She almost whispered, “really that good?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. For the first time in her life, she thought she'd found someone she wasn't sure she could challenge without losing herself in the game, and even though she was well aware of the danger, it didn’t stop her. “Oh how you have learned the art of evading personal questions, it’s most impressive.” She studied his face with amused eyes. What was he trying to hide? Or did he simply choose not to tell more about him because he thought it to be a tactical advantage?
The sound of the waterfall louder then before as he had guided them deeper into the pool. They were maddeningly close, his attraction almost inhuman. When she felt his touch it sent a tremor of fire through her. In responds her hands traveled from his towards his shoulders for support, her legs embracing his waist, lifting her up. She was towering over him now. A nice change of scenery. She gratefully took this opportunity to admire his face from this new angle, their noses grazing softly. So this must be what it feels like, to be so intimidating.
His cheekbones appeared chiseled into shape by a master craftsman. They were of such sharp contours, it looked as if they were sculpted and pared to perfection. Eyes as bright and spellbinding as lode stars, enchanting all those who fell under his steady gaze. Why did he have to be this captivating? “and what if I’m not afraid of wandering on that slippery slope?” she challenged ignoring the warning in his voice.
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things ended today heartbreaking but amicable loving but tiring i cried so much my cheeks are stinging and my nose is sore , i know not many who have felt the depths of love in the way that i do, to truly lean in and sink to the bottom, sitting there with all the discomforts and fully knowing its fleeting tendency.
i thank the universe for my caribbean tongue, sharp & full of clarity the gratitude i feel for my ability to love knows no bounds
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18/19.03.23
Went to the Caribbean with my family, we were on a very beautiful but very touristic island with many touristy attractions. One of which was a wharf you could walk along and look out to this old 18th century pirate ship which had run aground in the bay. Barnacles and rocks had grown around it over the years, so it stuck up out of the shallow water almost like an island. There was also a sinkhole in the bay just next to it, creating a really dangerous whirlpool, so there was some conjecture that maybe, at the time, it had been a deliberate attempt to sink a ship there and ‘plug’ the hole so to speak. It obviously didn’t work as, there were plenty of signs saying not to go near the shipwreck due to the dangerous currents and whirlpool. You also couldn’t get too close as it was home to colony of dangerous birds who were just incredibly off putting and uncanny to look at.
From the distance we were at, at first glance it actually looked like there were lots of people sitting on the shipwreck. The longer you looked, or if you paid to use those viewfinder things, you could see how alien they actually were. They were maybe just over a metre tall and quite stocky, with very broad hunched backs. Their necks were not clearly defined, especially at the back of the head which just basically rolled down into the shoulders. They initially looked like they were wearing modern clothes, but it was actually short feathers in different colours, in patterns to mimic human clothing. They didn’t have wings, but were holding their arms crooked at the elbow like birds would, and the elbow itself was elongated and sharp. Their legs were short and crooked with very large thighs and very skinny calves. Both the arms and legs ended in claws, with a set of three long, sharp talons instead of hands/feet. They didn’t have beaks but their mouths/jaws kind of jutted out in a weird way and they had a wide mouth with tiny little sharp teeth all along the gums. No noses, just slit nostrils set back into the face. It was the eyes that really freaked me out, as they looked so human but were just a little too far apart to be natural.
Our guide explained that, because of the whirlpool, the pirates on the original ship had been stranded there when it ran aground. They were able to fish for food and drink rainwater, but men have other needs and ultimately this led to them all having sex with a flock of pigeons. Those pigeons then gave birth to half-human half-bird hybrids, who were the ancestors of this colony.
I do remember being confused, firstly that a bird could give birth to something tht much bigger than itself, and secondly that surely as hybrids they would be sterile like mules. But ultimately I was too frightened of the actual birds to ask many questions, I was just fascinated by watching them as it was sunch an uncanny experience. They looked just enough like humans (especially in the eyes) to make their animalistic movements oddly upsetting.
There was also the fact that they had very sharp teeth and extremely sharp claws, and were kind of watching us watch them. As well as the whrilpool warning their were lots of signs saying “Don’t Feed the Birds” -basically warnig not to swim or sail too close to the shipwreck where the brids could potentially reach you and eat you. The guide explained that the birds were extremely lazy and actually quite stupid (she mentoned a lot of the pirates were Irish ,as if this explained it,which i was quite annoyed about but anyway) so they could never get from their little shipwreck atoll to the island where we were, but they were still dangerous wildlife. They were carnivourous, and although they didn’t like to exert themselves to hunt, if food came near them they were strong, viscous and deadly.
The guide was telling us different incidents of people getting torn to shreds by these birds, mostly ignorant tourists daring each other to get too close, but sometimes those who thought as the birds were half-human they could be ‘civilised’. They quickly learnt the hardway that the creatures had humanoid bodies, but birdbrains. There was no reasoning - or pleading for mercy - with them.
After looking at the creepy killer bird-men shipwreck, me and my family went to get food in a buffet hall, provided by the cruise company. It was up really, really high on these ridiculously steep cliffs. Like, we were up so high we could see clouds below us.All along the serving line of the buffet were these windows looking out over the sheer drop below, and at one point a woman leaned over to get some ornge juice and just - fell out. She was screaming for what seemed like so long. Everyone was quiet and uncomfortable for a moment, but no one did anything as we knew there was no point trying to save her. We just ate our lunch instead.
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DESCRIBING THE PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES OF CHARACTERS:
Body
descriptors; ample, athletic, barrel-chested, beefy, blocky, bony, brawny, buff, burly, chubby, chiseled, coltish, curvy, fat, fit, herculean, hulking, lanky, lean, long, long-legged, lush, medium build, muscular, narrow, overweight, plump, pot-bellied, pudgy, round, skeletal, skinny, slender, slim, stocky, strong, stout, strong, taut, toned, wide.
Eyebrows
descriptors; bushy, dark, faint, furry, long, plucked, raised, seductive, shaved, short, sleek, sparse, thin, unruly.
shape; arched, diagonal, peaked, round, s-shaped, straight.
Ears
shape; attached lobe, broad lobe, narrow, pointed, round, square, sticking-out.
Eyes
colour; albino, blue (azure, baby blue, caribbean blue, cobalt, ice blue, light blue, midnight, ocean blue, sky blue, steel blue, storm blue,) brown (amber, dark brown, chestnut, chocolate, ebony, gold, hazel, honey, light brown, mocha, pale gold, sable, sepia, teakwood, topaz, whiskey,) gray (concrete gray, marble, misty gray, raincloud, satin gray, smoky, sterling, sugar gray), green (aquamarine, emerald, evergreen, forest green, jade green, leaf green, olive, moss green, sea green, teal, vale).
descriptors; bedroom, bright, cat-like, dull, glittering, red-rimmed, sharp, small, squinty, sunken, sparkling, teary.
positioning/shape; almond, close-set, cross, deep-set, downturned, heavy-lidded, hooded, monolid, round, slanted, upturned, wide-set.
Face
descriptors; angular, cat-like, hallow, sculpted, sharp, wolfish.
shape; chubby, diamond, heart-shaped, long, narrow, oblong, oval, rectangle, round, square, thin, triangle.
Facial Hair
beard; chin curtain, classic, circle, ducktail, dutch, french fork, garibaldi, goatee, hipster, neckbeard, old dutch, spade, stubble, verdi, winter.
clean-shaven
moustache; anchor, brush, english, fu manchu, handlebar, hooked, horseshoe, imperial, lampshade, mistletoe, pencil, toothbrush, walrus.
sideburns; chin strap, mutton chops.
Hair
colour; blonde (ash blonde, golden blonde, beige, honey, platinum blonde, reddish blonde, strawberry-blonde, sunflower blonde,) brown (amber, butterscotch, caramel, champagne, cool brown, golden brown, chocolate, cinnamon, mahogany,) red (apricot, auburn, copper, ginger, titain-haired,), black (expresso, inky-black, jet black, raven, soft black) grey (charcoal gray, salt-and-pepper, silver, steel gray,), white (bleached, snow-white).
descriptors; bedhead, dull, dry, fine, full, layered, limp, messy, neat, oily, shaggy, shinny, slick, smooth, spiky, tangled, thick, thin, thinning, tousled, wispy, wild, windblown.
length; ankle length, bald, buzzed, collar length, ear length, floor length, hip length, mid-back length, neck length, shaved, shoulder length, waist length.
type; beach waves, bushy, curly, frizzy, natural, permed, puffy, ringlets, spiral, straight, thick, thin, wavy.
Hands; calloused, clammy, delicate, elegant, large, plump, rough, small, smooth, square, sturdy, strong.
Fingernails; acrylic, bitten, chipped, curved, claw-like, dirty, fake, grimy, long, manicured, painted, peeling, pointed, ragged, short, uneven.
Fingers; arthritic, cold, elegant, fat, greasy, knobby, slender, stubby.
Lips/Mouth
colour (lipstick); brown (caramel, coffee, nude, nutmeg,) pink (deep rose, fuchsia, magenta, pale peach, raspberry, rose, ) purple (black cherry, plum, violet, wine,) red (deep red, ruby.)
descriptors; chapped, cracked, dry, full, glossy, lush, narrow, pierced, scabby, small, soft, split, swollen, thin, uneven, wide, wrinkled.
shape; bottom-heavy, bow-turned, cupid’s bow, downturned, oval, pouty, rosebud, sharp, top-heavy.
Nose
descriptors; broad, broken, crooked, dainty, droopy, hooked, long, narrow, pointed, raised, round, short, strong, stubby, thin, turned-up, wide.
shape; button, flared, grecian, hawk, roman.
Skin
descriptors; blemished, bruised, chalky, clear, dewy, dimpled, dirty, dry, flaky, flawless, freckled, glowing, hairy, itchy, lined, oily, pimply, rashy, rough, sagging, satiny, scarred, scratched, smooth, splotchy, spotted, tattooed, uneven, wrinkly.
complexion; black, bronzed, brown, dark, fair, ivory, light, medium, olive, pale, peach, porcelain, rosy, tan, white.
#writing prompt#writing ideas#writing tips#creative writing#writers of tumblr#writers block#writing things#writers#writing advice#characteristics#character description
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Caribbean sharp-nosed puffer (Canthigaster rostrata) off the coast of Cozumel in Mexico
François Libert
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Tied and untamed
Pairing: Johnny Depp x Reader
Anonymous requested: Johnny x reader. The reader admits that she’d love to have sex with captain Jack Sparrow while watching a POTC film...
NSFW. Smut. 18+ only. Proceed with caution! Mentions of roleplaying, cursing, restraints & unprotected sex.
@kittenlittle24
We’re sitting on the couch. I’m watching Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl. Johnny has his nose buried in a book and hasn’t moved for the past hour. He’s never sat through one of his films and whenever asked about it, would be adamant that he’d rather be tortured than forced to watch himself. Having him in the room was progress, even if I knew for a fact that his attention was deep in his book and there wasn’t much hope in breaking his concentration.
It was quite a shame, really. I love watching his films, even if he’ll argue that having the real thing in front of me is better than the sight of him on a screen.
“You know, I’ve always found Jack Sparrow incredibly hot.”
He looks up from the top of his book and frowns at me.
“You know, I’m sitting right here. Am I not good enough?”
I laugh at him and lean up to kiss his cheek. He always acts as if he’s so offended when I tell him things like that, as if it’s a competition between him and whatever character is on the screen.
“I’m just saying, if he wanted to take me for a ride on the Black Pearl, I’d let him in a heartbeat.”
---
Not a single word had been mentioned about my Jack Sparrow admission since I’d brought it up. Either he’d brushed it off, or was thinking of a way to use it against me. I’m busy finishing brushing my teeth and turning off the faucet tap when I hear him call through from the bedroom.
“Are you done yet?”
I move on through to stand at the door of the ensuite, and have the perfect view of him sitting up in bed shirtless, the covers over his lower half.
“Come on, come over here to Jack.”
I’d recognise that voice anywhere and can feel the heat of a blush rising into my cheeks. Is this really how he plans on teasing me about it?
“You’re making fun of me for earlier. I knew you would.”
I walk into the room and fold my arms over my chest, standing at the foot of the bed.
“I am not. You told me that you wanted to have a night with Captain Jack Sparrow, this is me indulging you.”
He reaches out to grab ahold of my arm, pulling me down onto the bed so that I land on top of him. I alter my position, so that my legs are on either side of him in a straddling position. “See? Isn’t this much better?”
He leans up, capturing my lips in a feverish kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth with confidence and dominance. He pulls back and scrapes his teeth over my bottom lips harshly.
“I have an idea… Go and see if you can find any shackles.”
He looks up at me with a grin, his eyes lighting up in unadulterated mischief. It takes me a moment to work out what he means by ‘shackles’, but then I remember the films. He means handcuffs, like in the scene where Jack gives up every ounce of control and lets himself be cuffed to the Black Pearl by Elizabeth. I know for a fact that we don’t own anything of the sort in the house, but come up with a quick improvisation.
“Wait there, just a moment.”
One of his scarves that he always has lying around the room is the perfect quick solution. He’s looking over at me with an adventurous grin as I’m holding it in my hand.
“Am I tying your hands behind your back, or to the bed posts?”
He licks his lips.
“Mm, now you’re talking… Whatever way you want to take me, love. I’m yours.”
Everything about him is Jack Sparrow right now, from the character voice, to the smirk on his lips, and the glimmer of mischief in his eyes.
“Behind your back.”
I’m not sure where the surge of confidence is coming from, but I’ll take it. Johnny complies by putting his wrists together for me to wrap the scarf around, binding them. I make sure to tie a tight enough knot too that I’m confident he won’t break free from.
“But since I’m all tied up, you’ll need to strip down for me yourself…”
I take no hesitation in lifting my shirt off from my body and tossing it to the floor. I don’t know what’s going through his head or what tricks he has up his sleeves, but it’s exciting and intriguing. I’m pretty sure that Johnny knows it too.
I come to sit on top of him, fully aware of his gaze taking in my body. I can almost see the frustration in him too at the fact he can’t touch. There’s something that feels gratifying in being handed over this much power and trust at once.
I nip at the skin at his neck, sucking on it enough to be certain to leave a red mark and begin to kiss down towards his collarbone, down to his chest and towards his stomach. With every brush of my lips, every groan that I hear rumbling from the back of his throat, each thrust of his hips grinding against me, as if he’s encouraging me further, the confidence grows. As I reach his navel, I contemplate just what my next move is going to be. Will I continue to tease him a little more to push him? Or will I be a little adventurous? I look up at him with a devilish grin.
Johnny has other plans.
I’m not quite sure how he manages to do it, but he somehow manages to flip positions so that I’m beneath him. He’s staring down at me with a triumphant grin. He must have been planning this all along.
“You’ll remember this,” He moves his hips to grind down against me, and leans down into my ear. “As the night that you almost tied up and tamed Jack Sparrow.”
He begins to kiss my neck, his teeth scraping along my skin, sending immediate shivers down my spine.
“Less talking, more action.”
He finds the junction to my neck and shoulders and bites down hard.
“Sparrow.”
I roll my eyes at him. When he’s in character, he’s immersed, it’s as if it takes him over.
“Sparrow.”
It’s as if the name is a source of encouragement to surge him further. He’s pressing his already dangerously hard cock against the inside of my thigh, as if he knows it’s taunting and driving me wild. He’s soaking up every moment of it too.
“God, you’re so hot.”
“Glad you think so.”
He winks playfully at me and moves his hips so that his cock is brushing through my folds, and gof does it feel amazing. The suspense is toe curling. I need him inside of me.
“Johnny-”
“Jack.” He corrects firmly. “You asked for it, love, remember?”
“You’re driving me crazy.”
I bring my hands up to rest at his back, my fingernails gently digging into his skin, not enough to hurt him, yet.
“Then my plan is working.”
I still don’t know what this ‘plan’ is, but the thought of it is driving me wilder and wilder by the second.
“Fuck me,” I hiss, digging my nails further into his skin and dragging them down his spine. I’m sure of the fact that I hear a little out of character whimper from him.
“All you had to do is ask, savvy?” He grins conceitedly. “How hard? I’m thinking of pounding into you and making you cum until you’re screaming and begging for me to stop.”
Being in control suits him. I’m not even sure if he realises how much of a turn on for me it is, or how much I want to feel him inside of me. It’s starting to become painful just how much I want him.
“God, John, I need you.”
I’m unashamed at the fact I’m practically begging for him to take and bury himself inside of me.
“I should punish and make you wait for bringing up this other man again.”
He wouldn’t date.
Hands still tied behind his back, he moves so that the head of his throbbing cock is pressing against my entrance. Without any warning, he pushes inside in a way that is anything but gentle, and barely gives me a moment to adjust before he’s thrusting and pounding into me.
“Fuck,” I whimper, moving my hands to tangle and pull in his hair. The sounds of skin slapping, moans, and pants start to fill the room. It feels amazing. I’m completely powerless to him and the hold that he has. He pulls himself out, only to ram himself back in and fuck me even harder than before.
“You feel so good, fuck.” He growls under his breath. “I love you underneath me like this…” Each word is met with another rough thrust. I know that at the rate and speed that he’s going at, the two of us aren’t going to last long, but it also feels so good that I never want the pleasure to end.
His lips are pressing kisses to my breasts, before he takes a nipple between his teeth and tugs hard. I pull on his hair roughly, feeling my walls begin to tighten around him.
“Don’t hold back for me, sweetheart. I want you to cum for me and hear how well I’ve fucked you.”
I’m not sure whether it’s the thrusts or the words of encouragement that pushes me over the edge more. The familiar heat rushes to my stomach, followed by the intense rush of pleasure and the shaking as I spill over him.
“Good girl.” He brings his lips to mine in a passionate kiss. His own thrusts are beginning to slow down and become sloppy, to the point where he can’t keep up with himself. He groans as he reaches his climax too, and spills out deep inside of me.
I lie there for a moment trying to catch my breath and come down from the intense orgasm that I’ve just experienced.
Johnny still has another trick up his sleeve. With a sharp tug of his wrists, he unfastens the tie and shows me his free hands.
“Next time, we’re going to need better restraints.”
He mumbles and rests his hands on my hips.
“My turn.” He pulls out the scarf to it’s full length and grins wickedly at me. “After giving you such an earth shattering orgasm, I think I’m worthy of watching you ride me.” He slides down from being on top of me and waggles his eyebrow suggestively.
I roll my eyes at him fondly, I’m hardly going to deny him, but can’t resist throwing in a cheeky comment. “Aren’t you supposed to be too old for this?”
He laughs and shakes his head. If anything, I’ve probably just fuelled him for the night even further. “Never.”
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sunrise
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: 2,798
summary: He’s not sure what he’s done to earn each morning, but fuck, does he love it.
warnings: There’s a fight between the two but it is in fact angst to sweet good fluffiness <333 also cussing lol
a/n: Thank you so much to @captswilson for commissioning this!!! I had so much fun with it!!!!!!!
There is something majestic about the sun rising. It peeks through the curtains in Bucky’s room, little bit by little bit. It illuminates the desk and then creeps across the floor, towards the edge of the bed.
He’d done his best to organize the room in a way that would ensure you wouldn’t wake up to the sun in your eyes. His precious girl loved sleep and he was going to make sure you got as much of it as you wanted.
The light has only reached the foot of the bed, and he knows he probably has another thirty minutes to an hour before you wake up. Maybe two if he can find the will to leave your embrace and fix the black out curtains that are supposed to prevent this sort of thing.
But you’re so warm and soft against him and he’d just gotten home from a mission the night before and there’s a million other reasons keeping him in bed and all of them start and end with you. He’s also scared to get out of bed for the fear of you waking up while he’s not cuddling you.
There’d been a fight the morning of the mission. One that had resulted in crying and you suggesting that you be gone by the time he got back.
And he hadn’t said a word. He’d just left.
“Jamie?” You mumbled as you felt him get out of the bed, despite how hard he’d tried to not wake you.
The super soldier winced as he turned around to face you, to look at your sweet, sleepy face. “Hey, baby…,” he said soothingly as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Where are you going?” You asked, even as your eyes saw his phone in his hand and the message he’d received. “You’re leaving?”
He hated the way that your voice cracked and the little quiver in your lip. “It’s just a quick in and out mission, sweetheart,” he said reassuringly. “I’ll be back in three days tops.”
You were wide awake then, pushing yourself up.
He’s distracted for a moment by the sight of you in one of his t-shirts. Especially considering that he knows there’s nothing on underneath.
But it wasn’t the time for that.
“Three days?” Your voice is sharp and bordering on angry now. Frustration lined the contours of your face as you stared at him, hard. “But what about our trip? We’ve been planning this for months and I finally got the time off of work!”
And fuck, he knew that. He knew that this weekend was special. It was your anniversary, and you two had finally planned a trip away for yourselves on one of Tony’s private islands in the Caribbean.
But with the mission call, those plans had disappeared, as well as the plans for the ring box buried in his side of the closet, in a pair of unworn boots hidden amongst all the other pairs of black combat boots.
Bucky wanted to tell you to just quit your job and work for Tony or even just let him take care of you. You’d never have to work again.
“Baby, I have to go,” he said softly as he tried to reach out to cup your cheek. A crack ran through his heart as you jerked away from his touch. “You know I do… They call and—”
“Yeah,” you said, cutting him off as you stared at him long and hard. “You go. You always go. It’s fine.” But by the tone of your voice, he knows it’s not fine.
He could always read you. Bucky was able to tell how you were feeling just by how you breathed, the way your hands moved. But for the first time ever, he can’t. He has absolutely no clue what you were feeling.
And that scared that absolute shit out of him.
He whispered your name as he tried to reach for you again, but you got off the other side of the bed and stood up, moving towards the closet. “What are you doing?” He asked.
“You’re the one always leaving. Maybe I should, too,” you muttered as you began to pull your clothes from the hangers.
“What?!” He was full blown panicking then. You couldn’t leave. “Baby, baby, no. Don’t leave. Please.” He rushed towards the bed, grabbing the clothes you’d already tossed there and began to hang them back up. “Can’t we talk about this?”
“Talk about what? Talk about how I’m never going to be your priority? How you’re going to keep telling me that you’re gonna retire soon, only for it to never happen?”
Bucky knew he didn’t have a right to get angry at that, even though it was true. He had been telling you for over a year that he’d retire soon and then you two could really settle down. Maybe get a dog or have a baby.
And every time you asked, he’d just say it wasn’t the right time.
But he did get angry. He was human, after all.
“Real fucking mature,” he said with a scoff, shaking his head. “You know, if it wasn’t for my paycheck, and therefore these missions, you wouldn’t even be living in this fancy apartment. You wouldn’t have a suite you live in for free in the fucking Avengers Tower in the center of Manhattan,” he snapped. He was going too far, but he was so frustrated and angry. Because he did want to stay. He did. But he had debts to society that he needed to repay. “Hell, your little office job wouldn’t even pay for an apartment in Jersey City! I give you everything, and you can’t even handle me going away for a few days so we can have everything that we do!”
You took a step back, your eye glassy. “So that’s how you feel,” you breathed out.
Bucky had gone way too far. He’d said things he’d never even thought before, but it had come out because he was hurting and there came that mean streak inside of him that insisted that he hurt you back.
He shook his head, a few rogue tears falling down his cheeks. “No… No, that’s not how I feel,” he said quietly. “Please… Can we please just talk about this? I—” He was cut off as his phone dinged again, and he cursed under his breath as he realized it was Sam texting him that they needed to leave in ten minutes.
A snort.
His eyes met yours right before you looked away, crossing your arms as you moved to the window and stared out at the waking city. “We’ll talk about this when I get back,” he said definitively.
But as he headed for the door, he heard you say, “Sure we will.”
He was in a state of constant anxiety the entire mission, wanting nothing more than to call you and explain but now knowing exactly what to say.
What could he say? He was cruel and mean and horrible, and god, he really wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t there when he got back.
The mission ended up taking seventy-nine hours, and he had worked himself into a tizzy the entire jet ride home.
He stormed down the ramp and into the car that would take them to the city, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for Sam and Wanda to climb in. “If you don’t hurry up, I’m leaving without you!”
“We get it, you’re excited to go home to your girl,” Sam chuckled as he got in, Wanda quickly following.
She was quiet, and he knew it was most likely because his thoughts were too loud to keep to himself. There was no way she didn’t know about the fight you two had.
“Did something happen between you two?” Sam asked, glancing over at him as they started towards the city. “Usually you two are on the phone every chance you get during a mission.”
Bucky’s forehead rested against the cold glass window as he stared at the passing scenery. “Yeah… Something like that…”
When they got home, he went straight to your shared apartment, hoping to every god there was that you were still there. Maybe you’d be at work and you could get that vacation time back and use it next weekend or something.
He just needed his baby.
Bucky’s hand rested on the door handle, his key card in his hand. He was terrified to go in, and he took a few steadying breaths, just like his therapist had taught him.
What was he gonna do if you were gone?
He finally opened the door, his eyes going wide as he saw you putting away some laundry. “You stayed,” he breathed out.
“No. I didn’t,” you said quietly, your voice cracking. “I left. I packed all my stuff up and I left and went to a hotel. But then I… I couldn’t just leave.” Tears welled up in your eyes.
“I don’t care,” he said. “You came back. That’s what matters. And I’m here now and I…” Like the broken man he was, he fell to his knees in front of you and clung to your shirt. “Baby… I need you. I’ll do anything, please… Just don’t leave me…”
He was surprised when you fell to your knees with him, breaking down as you threw your arms around him. “I’m sorry I said that stuff. I love you. I love you. I’m so sorry, Jamie.”
Kisses were pressed all over your wet cheeks as he shook his head. “No, I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I was cruel and I was lashing out because I was so scared, but I should’ve just talked to you.”
“So you didn’t mean all that stuff?” You whimpered, almost shocked. “About me using you for your money or whatever?”
“No. No. I could never think that stuff.” He cradled your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours fiercely. “I was just upset and lashing out and I… I swear to you, I will never say anything like that ever again. But please don’t leave.”
You curled against his chest, comforted by the heat of his embrace. “I won’t. I’m not leaving, I promise. I love you so much.”
“I love you more.”
There’d been a lot of crying last night after you two had made up and talked through everything.
And then a lot of make up sex, but there was usually a lot of sex after he got back from a mission, no matter how long he’d been gone.
A smile creeps t across his lips as he reaches down and lightly brushes his fingers against your inner thighs, feeling the heat from the beard burn he’d left.
Sunlight’s crept a little further up the bed, reaching your tangled legs. Your foot brushes against his calf as you start to stir, your nose smushed against his chest.
Bucky coos softly, caressing your soft cheek to get you to fall back into your slumber. It takes a few minutes, but he does it. Somehow, he manages to untangle your limbs and slip out of the bed undetected. He freezes as you mumble, shifting towards the warmth of the spot he’s just vacated, and he feels kinda bad. He knows how much you love how warm he is.
But he needs to get something.
He takes a moment to fix the curtains so you can sleep a little longer before heading for the closet.
Everything is out of its usual order thanks to your hasty exit and then return. Neither of you had cared much about the proper order of the closet once he had you in his arms.
But that’s beside the point.
It’s not hard to find. He gets on his knees and goes through the line of his shoes, finding the very last pair of black combat boots. They’re shiny and brand new, lacking the wear and tear of his other pairs. Bucky reaches into the right shoe and pulls out a small ring box, his heart hammering.
Is he really gonna do this?
Yeah. Yeah, he is, because he’d been more scared the past three or so days than he had been in his entire life.
He would rather go through everything Hydra had put him through again than ever risk losing you again. All the torture, all the pain, all the wiping. All of it has led him to you and god, it was worth it to wake up to your sweet face.
There weren’t girls like you back in the forties, and he couldn’t imagine going back like Steve had.
But he supposes if Steve felt about Peggy the way he feels about you, then… How could he blame him?
The lid flips open as he sits on the closet floor, the diamonds gleaming in the light.
It had taken a lot of work to get the ring that had belonged to his Ma, which was ridiculous considering it’s his family.
But the Smithsonian apparently doesn’t like giving back items that could be considered stolen property.
It took him threatening to break in and take it by force (as well as a lot of other stuff) for them to hand it over.
He then got it cleaned and resized for you, and it’s been sitting in that shoe for three months now, waiting for the perfect time.
But there is something he has to do first.
Bucky creeps to the bedside table, sneaking a glance at your peaceful face as he grabs his phone and then disappears into the bathroom. It’s there that he types out his message to Pepper and Sam.
Bucky: I’m out of missions permanently. I’ll train new recruits and if there’s a Thanos level threat, I’ll jump in, but otherwise, I’m done. I gotta think about my girl.
He turns off his phone before he gets a reply, setting it back on the table as he climbs into bed, the ring box clutched tightly in his hand. There’s no space for missions when he wants a future with you, with the possibility of a family, maybe a few little ones running around in a few years. He can’t handle seeing the fear in your eyes when he kisses you goodbye anymore, or the disappointment when he slipped off to the quinjet.
And he wants to be there for your future. He doesn’t wanna leave you as a widow or a single mother. He wants to be there with you for every step of life.
His lips press to your forehead as he gently curls around you again. God, he could just stay in bed with you forever.
“Jamie?”
Bucky can’t say he’s shocked when you wake, your eyes slowly blinking open to find him already looking down at you. “Good morning, pretty girl,” he whispers, almost like he’s afraid to break the stillness of the morning.
Even though he’s sure it’s almost noon.
He takes a breath, resting his forehead against yours. “You know how much I love you, right?”
“Well… yeah,” you say quietly as your nimble fingers reach up to run through his shaggy brown hair. Maybe you would give him a haircut soon, sit on the bathroom sink as he stood in front of you.
“If I…” Bucky swallows around the lump in his throat, suddenly overcome with emotion. “If I told you that I texted Sam and told him I’m out of missions forever… If I told you that from now on I’m only gonna help train new recruits…”
“Yes?” You don’t move, blinking up at him with a fond smile on your lips.
And god, he’s so grateful for you and your patience. You know whatever he’s going to say is important and he needs your full attention.
That, and you’re also excited about the possibility of not having to worry about him dying every other week on a mission.
He brings the ring box into view, his mouth drier than the Sahara as he opens it up. “Will you marry me?” He breathes out.
A giggle escapes your lips as you lean forward and kiss him fiercely, your arms thrown around him. “I thought you’d never ask,” you mumble against his lips. Everything that had been said in the heat of the moment those few days ago is forgotten as he slides the ring on your finger and holds you to his chest.
And Bucky can’t help but smile as the sunlight hits your face, illuminating your gorgeous eyes. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve this morning with you, waking up next to you in his t-shirt, but he’d spend the rest of his life earning every single sunrise.
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Tied With a Bow
A Holiday Drabble! I wrote this on my break so hope y’all enjoy it (please let me know what you think!)
Warnings: nonconsent/rape, kidnapping, mentions of stalking.
You open your eyes but the world remains black. You smell a fire and hear the crackle; the warmth waver against your bare legs. Your jeans are gone, the rest of your clothes too. All that hides your body is an unseen bra that tickles the front of your breasts and a thin, barely discernable thong.
You shiver. Your blindfold is thin and cool. A thick length of ribbon knotted at the back of your head.
You remember slivers of what came before. Christmas Eve. You just finished up with your mother for the night. Your parents left the next morning for a Caribbean getaway and you were content at a quiet day to yourself.
You never made it home. You recall that much. The footsteps just behind you and a glimpse back revealing nothing more than the snowy yard and your parents' glowing decorations.
It happened in the car. The engine rumbled and you drove off without haste. You remember a rustle behind you and suddenly a hand around your mouth. You lost control and it all went black.
Then you were here. You sit there for what feels like forever in the din of the fireplace flickering on the other side of your blindfold. You smelled pine and felt the nip of snow as it rattled the windows.
Then voices. Deep, unfamiliar. You hold your breath and wriggle in the chair. Your hands are bound behind you and your ankles to the wide legs, you can do nothing but listen as the strangers come nearer.
"If you weren't do damn late," the words grow clearer and your veins sear with adrenaline,
"Your present's just in there."
You're frantic as footsteps sound on the floor.
"Oh? You actually got me something this year?" A sardonic chuckle dies halfway as the steps stop. "Buck?" His tone turns to surprise.
"All yours," the other man responds, "a few scratches but she's in good shape."
"How--" he clears his throat, "wait..." suddenly the footsteps are marching towards you. You panic and struggle to free yourself. The chair rocks and is caught before it can fall over. A hand grabs your chin and stills you. "It's...her? You know?"
"All those solo missions. Always distracted. You usually catch on when I tail you but," the clap makes you flinch, "Surprising but I suppose you need something."
The hand falls away and you feel the stranger move past you. "And?"
"And what?"
"You don't think I'm crazy?"
"She's cute. Sweet. Hell, if I'd seen her first, I might have been the same way." A sniff between words. "How did you find her anyway?"
"Just... chance. I..." the man is hesitant. You're petrified. He's been watching you but you don't know who he is. "She has a family. They'll look for her."
"Let me worry about that," a snicker.
"I..." he's breathless as your heart is pounding.
"Hear that," the other taunts, "go on and introduce yourself. Maybe she won't be so nervous."
There's a silence and you sense more movement. He's in front of you, you know it even though you can't see him. He says your name and you scrunch your nose to keep from crying.
"Get away from me," you utter, "go!"
"Sweetie," he touches your knee and you try to shake him off. His hand grips you tighter. "I'm not going to hurt you." He sighs. "What did you do to her? You have to tie her up like this?"
"Got in a bit of a bender but she's fine," the other assures, "you can untie her but she's your problem then."
The man lets go of your knee and reaches around your head to untie the ribbon. He kneels before you as he looks you over, rubbing the ribbon between his fingers. You know him. You've seen him before, but never in person.
Steve Rogers is even bigger in real life. He smiles. Those blue eyes that always seem warm in pictures are startling.
"Please, let me go," you whine.
His brow twitches and he tilts his head; confused, pleading, you cannot tell. But you know from that look he won't oblige.
"You're scared?" He leans back on his heels. "You know who I am?" He watches you and all you can do is gape back at him. He holds out his hand. "I'm Steve."
He realises his mistake as you only blink at him and he drops his hand. He rubs his palms together and hesitates before he stands.
"I'm sorry about my friend," he looks to the doorway, "Buck, can you get her a blanket?"
The other man huffs but you hear him go. Steve turns to the fire and stoops to move a log from the metal basket onto the dwindling embers. He turns back and shifts his weight on his feet.
"I... I want to untie you but you can't run." He says carefully.
"If you think I'm going to run, why would you want me to stay?" You hiss.
"You can," the other man speaks as he enters. "One of us will catch you."
You glance over your shoulder as he nears and hands Steve the blanket. He watches and lets out a breath.
"I dress her up all nice for you and you’re coverin' her up?" he tuts.
You recognise him too. Captain America's ever loyal sidekick, Bucky Barnes. He grins as he meets your gaze and winks.
"Isn't she cute? Maybe I should have put her in white." Bucky sneers and smacks Steve's shoulder.
"You're scaring her," Steve smacks him with his knuckles, “sweetie," he turns back to you, "will you be good if I untie you?"
You look between him and Bucky. You squirm and blink away another wave of terror.
"Please," you whisper at first then repeat yourself louder.
Steve nods and rounds you. You feel him picking at your binds as Bucky rolls his eyes.
"Don't say I didn't try to help," Bucky grumbles and goes to the fireplace. "Any plans for her? I'm sure you've been thinking about it for a while."
"Enough, Buck," your hands fall loose and Steve comes back around to free your ankles. He looks up at you. "Please, don't listen to him."
You don't say anything. The whole situation is too confusing. Surreal. Your ankles come away from the chair legs and you slide forward. Steve stands and catches you by your shoulders before you can stand.
"You okay?" He plays with the fringe at the edge if the blanket as it rests over your shoulder.
You sit back and shrug away his touch.
"I don't understand," you say, "I really don't."
"I didn't think it would be like this--" Steve is interrupted by a scoff and sends Bucky a sharp look. The latter raises his brows and strolls from the room with a sarcastic salute.
Steve backs away and you watch as he passes the chair you sit in to sit on the long sofa. He pats the spot beside him.
"Can we talk?" He asks as if you could day no.
You rise and sweep the blanket around you before it can fall. You near him and sit as far from him as you can.
"I didn't think he would... it's my fault. I just could never build up the to-- to--" he looks down bashfully and drags his nail along the faded denim along his thigh. "To say hello."
"How do you... know me?" You ask.
"MrsRogersTeddy?" He smiles as his eyes flick up. The username, almost forgotten, has you pressing yourself against the arm. You shake your head at him in disbelief.
"I haven't posted in years," you murmur, "how..."
"Well, that's why I went looking. The blog was inactive but I love your stories. They're so good."
"They're trash. Sometimes you just get so bored that living in dumb fantasies is better than anything in the real world. They were just stupid fics. They didn't..." his face falls and you speak slower, realising you've said you much, "mean anything."
He frowns and sits back, deflated. His fingers tap on his jeans. “They mean something to me.” He says deliberately. Slowly, he turns. “Don’t I mean anything to you?”
“I don’t know you,” you regret your words the moment they hang in the air before you.
“Then why would you write about me? Why?” The vein in his forehead sticks out and his jaw squares. “I don’t get it.” He grabs you before you can react and pulls you to him. The blanket slips between your bodies. “You wrote about us!”
“No, no, they were all made up. It wasn’t about--”
“Shhhh,” he hushes you as his hand stretches across your throat. He flexes his fingers as he pushes you onto your back and lowers himself with you. He crushes you beneath him as he frames your faces with his hand. “You love me.”
“No,” you murmur, “Steve…”
“Don’t.” His voice is harsh as you stare up into his eyes. His pupils dilate and he smashes his lips into yours.
You push against his chest, the blanket twists at your waist. The bra, a dark blue with white fur trim, threatens to reveal all. His hand brushes down your neck and arm as he traces the length of your body to your hips. He pulls your leg around him as he moves between your thighs.
A rush of panic rises within and you whimper into his mouth. Your head is spinning and you can’t breath. You can barely think. You’re trapped with a stranger. Smothered by THE Captain America. And for days, weeks, months, who knows, he’s been stalking you. You never knew. How could you? It was unthinkable.
He draws away and gazes down at you. “Say you want me,” he purrs.
Your lips part but you can’t speak. He doesn’t wait anyway as he kisses you again. He’s tugging at the thin string of the thong, exploring your body with his hands. He shoves his thumb beneath the cup of the bra and teases your nipple. He grinds against you like a puritan.
You gasp as you turn your head away. You gulp for breath as his lips continue to your throat. He’s ravenous, unstoppable. He’s kissing, nipping, and sucking your flesh. You grasp at his thick bicep and claw at his firm chest. He is immovable but you are not.
His hand slides along your pelvis. The thong is scrunched from the friction of your bodies. He hums as he grazes your cunt with his fingertips. He nuzzles your neck and fumbles with his fly.
“No,” you beg, “Steve, please…” you’re desperate. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“I’m not,” he groans as he wriggles and pushes down the top of his jeans and rolls down the elastic of his briefs. He struggles for a moment and you refuse to look anywhere but the ceiling. “I’m not, I’m not…” he recites more to himself than you.
You kick your heels into his legs but he doesn’t even flinch. His hand is still moving between you. You feel him prod along your soft thigh. You writhe, you need him off of you. You’re sweating, stolid. You’ve never been so afraid. He drags his cock against your folds.
“Steve--”
He claps his hand over your mouth and enters you in a single thrust. You exclaim into his palm as he shakes and holds himself deep in you. His head hangs beside yours and his fingers curl as he muffles your distress.
He rocks his hips carefully. You squeeze him between your thighs unable to do much else. It hurts how full you are. Each time he tilts, he’s deeper inside you. Your walls cling to him and you close your eyes to the world. You want to forget where you are but you can’t as he brings you back each time he moves.
His tempo builds steadily. You ache; for him, because of him. Your body rebels as your mind shouts for rescue. There is no escape. You are caught in his embrace; in his scent.
He lifts himself and his hand falls away from your mouth. You bare your teeth as he pins your shoulders and holds himself over you. He slams his hips down and you yelp. Your lashes flutter open and you see a beast atop you. He is not the saviour painted across glossy magazines and inky newspapers. He is a man, base and bestial.
His flesh slaps loudly against yours. You peek down at the joining of your bodies, his shirt rides up on his firm stomach as the thong digs into your skin. Your tits are out as the bra slides further down your arms and torso.
He growls and your eyes meet. He hums but not for long, instead grunting with each thrust. He licks his lips as his gaze ventures down. He sits back and holds your hips. You cover your face with your arm. You’re cumming. You don’t want to but you can’t stop the tide that swirls around you. You’re drowning. You’re lost. You cannot find your way back in the storm.
His voice is louder. His groans carnal. He raises your left leg to rest against his chest. He hugs it as your muscles strain. You’re quaking, the entire couch is trembling. He bites his knuckles to stifle a cry. He bucks wildly as he spills into you.
When he is still, you feel as if you are still moving. Your thighs tingle and your vision clouds. He drops your leg and bends over you as he catches his breath. He blindly cradles your face as his breath washes over your chest.
“Merry Christmas, Steve,” a shadow appears behind him. You see Bucky watching you with a grin. “So… where’s my present?”
#steve rogers#bucky barnes#dark steve rogers#dark bucky barnes x reader#drabble#dark!steve rogers#dark!bucky barnes#steve rogers x reader#one shot#holiday#captain america#mcu#marvel#fic#dark!fic#dark fic
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5 🍹
Stede fizzled with excitement, a gentle buzz lingering just under his skin; an electric promise of things to come. He’d planned this for months, simmering with the prospect of the open ocean and sea-salt air, only to be wrecked with worry the moment he’d stepped inside the travel agents ( what if this was the wrong choice? What if it was a waste of time? Was this really what he was choosing to spend daddy’s money on? ).
But then the teller had been so kind and encouraging (‘ This for your wife, honey?’ - Stede had nodded nervously, to which she cooed- ‘How sweet. Wish my husband would buy me a cruise, but he’d never be that spontaneous. Aren’t you just a darl!’ ) and the world was righted once more, knocked back to its correct axis.
Now the day was here (Valentines Day, very apt), and everything was laid bare (the tickets, the promotional photos, his soul–hopes, wants, dreams) across a white-orange checkered tablecloth.
Stede’s hands were gently, delicately laid over Mary’s eyes, keeping her hostage within the suspense. This is what couples did, right? Surprise each other? Book activities to do together? Make grand, sweeping gestures? He hoped so. Stede had proved rather miserable at most other pursuits, the least he could do was be a good husband, a good partner.
He pulled his fingers away, revealing the stage to Mary, the audience; praying she would be rapt with the scene before her. “What do ya think?” Stede asked, voice frayed with anticipation ( What had Mary called him once? Reliable? Steady? Never one for spontaneity. Surely this was fun and impulsive enough for her ).
“It’s a cruise.” She said flatly, observantly, brows furrowing as she picked up a ticket from the kitchen table with distinctly less enthusiasm than Stede was anticipating.
“What would you say going on a cruise like that, for a few weeks?” Stede knelt next to her chair, in a position not un reminiscent of a beg, “You, me... at sea.” Endless blue. Endless possibility.
“Why on Earth would we do that?” Mary asked, turning towards him with a frown he unfortunately recognised, and his throat closed up. He’d been wrong. He’d messed up. Miscalculated. It was stupid, really, the whole thing but-
“I don't know.” The words fell from his lips before he could consider them, “Break the monotony.”
“Our life feels monotonous to you?”
“No!” Stede exclaimed, taking Mary’s hands in his; a gesture he hoped was reassuring, “No, it doesn't, does it? I just think that for our anniversary, instead of doing something here… we could be on a ship having adventures.”
“Do you know I hate the ocean? I've said so before.”
“What? When?”
“When we were on a plane to the Caribbean for our honeymoon! I didn’t like it then, and I don’t like it now.”
She pulled her hands away, retreating from her husband, and pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers; like an frustrated, exasperated parent dealing with an uncontainable child. Stede felt small, tiny ( you’re the fuck-up, Baby Bonnet. A soft, pathetic little fuck-up ) . He knew she wasn’t trying to be cruel, but the whiplash of excitement to abject disappointment stung nonetheless– a sharp, piercing bee sting he likely deserved.
“I don't want to be on a boat, Stede. Not when I'll be three months pregnant, in the throes of morning sickness,” Mary said, softer, her tone not unkind.
“No... No, of course not. This- this is just an idea. This is it. Don’t worry about it. I'm sorry.”
Stede deflated, like a balloon expiring after the joy of a birthday.
“That's it.”
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