#i planned out the chords in the last few weeks and was waiting for a song

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can you write a smutty story with Ethan Landry maybe giving your bf a blowjob while he’s playing video games with his friends…

Request: Ethan with “stop distracting me” and turns into something more 🤭

Please forgive my lack of video game knowledge. All I’ve ever played is animal crossing, pokemon and some crash (the orange fox) car race…when I was 9 to 12

Warnings: smut, blowjob

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Are you done soon?’’ you asked for the seventh time, waiting for Ethan to be done with his game.

He’s been playing video games for what seemed like hours now, turning your netflix and chill plans into a gaming night with Chad. You had nothing against the guy, but since Tara broke up with him a few weeks ago, he’s been interfering with your and Ethan’s plans and it was starting to really get on your nerves.

You get that he’s sad about Tara and needs a friend, but he’s got plenty. Why doesn’t he bother someone else?

‘’Yeah. Just a little longer, babe.’’ His eyes were fixed on his computer screen, fingers moving on his controller while Chad talked to him through the headset.

You were tempted to unplug his computer and abruptly end their game, but you didn’t want to be that girlfriend. So you sat patiently on Ethan’s bed behind him, playing with a plushie toy you found on his shelf. It was likely a collectible of some anime he liked, but you were careful with it.

Another hour passed and you had enough.

You stood and wrapped your arms around Ethan’s neck from behind and kissed his face, trying to distract him enough so he would abandon Chad and spend time with you. It was childish, but sometimes you had to play that card.

‘’Stop distracting me.’’ Ethan leaned into your touch, but didn’t tear his eyes from his screen, focused solely on the game before him. ‘’Go, I’ll cover you,’’ he said into the mic of his headset, then began jamming the buttons on his controller and shooting at the people.

You thought of flashing him. He could never resist your boobs, but the last time did so while he was gaming, Ethan clumsily hit his knee against his table and almost spilled his drink all over his expensive gaming set.

You needed to think of something else.

Ah! A mischievous grin curled on your lips as an idea sprung into your mind. It was more dirty than any stunt you’ve pulled before, but you knew this would win Ethan's attention.

As quietly as possible, you crawled and slid under the desk, trying to not accidentally unplug any chords and sabotage your own plan. The space was cramped under there, but you made it work and found a way to situate yourself comfortably enough.

You reached for the button of Ethan’s pants, your unexpected touch startling him in the process.

‘’What the fu—’’ He looked down underneath his desk and saw you at his feet. Ethan drew his eyebrows confusedly. ‘’What are you doing?’’ he asked in a hushed voice, covering his mic so Chad would not hear.

You ignored his question and undid his pants, holding your smirk when you brushed his sensitive cock and heard Ethan bite a moan. His eyes shifted between his screen and you, his heartbeat starting to pick up from the panic and excitement. This was every gamer’s fantasy and he couldn’t believe it was happening to him.

You pulled out his cock from his boxers as gently as possible, soft but heavy in your hand. His hips pushed up instinctively and you kissed his tip just to tease him further, causing Ethan’s breathing to falter for a split second. He was so sensitive to your touch.

At first, you jerked him to get him hard, spitting into your palm. You spread it over his growing shaft and stroked slowly.

He was keeping it together surprisingly well.

But when you gave his leaking head a little squeeze, that’s when he slipped, grunting softly as his abdomen tightened, his cock twitching in your hand. Panic flashed through Ethan’s eyes, praying Chad had not heard that. It would be so embarrassing.

You giggled amusedly, going back to pumping him. You kept your strokes slow, taking revenge for all the hours he made you wait. Next time, he’ll tell Chad to find another gaming buddy.

The thing about Ethan was that he was very sensitive and whiny. So the more you stroked him, the more sensitive he got and soon enough, he was shifting restlessly in his chair and having to bite his hoodie’s sleeve cuff to muffle a few needy whines.

Then, you push the level of difficulty to the next step, leaning forward and taking him into your mouth. You sucked gently and started to bob up and down his cock.

Ethan’s brain short-circuited and he almost dropped his controller. ‘’Fuck.’’ He quickly caught it and ran after Chad like a small child running after his mommy.

You pushed your teasing further, relaxing your throat and taking him all the way. Ethan took a deep breath, fighting the moan coming up his throat. He wanted to drop his controller and grab your hair into a ponytail to push you over his cock until you gagged on his length, but other duties were calling him.

‘’You there, dude?’’

‘’Y-yeah!’’ Ethan stuttered, gripping the controller so hard as his tip hit the back of your throat. ‘’I’m having issues with my internet connection,’’ he explained, making up a lie.

You stayed there for a few seconds and moaned, sending vibrations to his cock. ‘’Mmh, you taste so good, baby.’’

Ethan hummed, leaning back into his chair and closing his eyes for a brief second, jumping when Chad screamed through the mic — again. ‘’Shit. Sorry, I— Sorry,’’ he apologized, his face burning in embarrassment. ‘’Yeah, yeah. I’ll cover you.’’ His fingers jammed the buttons of his controller, returning his attention to the screen.

You continued your work until you felt Ethan close to his release, getting him exactly where you wanted him….and stopped. With a smirk, you pulled back cold turkey and he nearly groaned in agony at the loss of your warm mouth around him.

‘’I was about to cum. Why did you fucking stop?!’’ Ethan said out loud, looking down at you and forgetting about Chad on the other end. 

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz

[thekingdomsfiles]

Life Could Be A Dream || Kaz Brekker x Reader

Modern Kaz Brekker x Reader, Established Relationship

Summary: You and Kaz enjoy a sweet moment after hosting a dinner for your friends.

Inspired from Sh-Boom by The Chords

Warnings: None

Word count: 1,137

A/N: Hello, this is my first little story I’m posting. I was originally going to wait until I’m ready with my series but I got this idea and thought it was just so cute. It’s not very long, just a short and sweet one. I hope you all enjoy.

Can also be found on Ao3 - Life could Be A Dream (1139 words) by TheKingdomFiles

You carry the plates from the terrace into the kitchen, carefully balancing a couple glasses on top. The plates clashing together slightly as you lay them in the sink and spray hot water on them. You start to pack up the leftovers of the Pasta alla gricia, that kaz and you made for the 1st time hours prior to now. Friday night dinners are the one thing you always look forward to every two weeks. Being able to just enjoy delicious homemade meals and sometimes take out when it’s been a hard week with your friends, feels so relaxing. You all just get to let go of life’s problems and enjoy each others company. Nina, Matthias, Inej, Wylan and Jesper are people anyone would be lucky to call their best friends. They quickly became like family to you just a few weeks after walking into their lives and the bond you hold with everyone of them has just gotten stronger with each passing day. 

As you are reminiscing of tonight’s dinner you hear the music, you had playing lightly for the night, get louder. You tilt your head in confusion and walk to the end of the kitchen to look out to the terrace. Your heart warms at the sight of kaz humming and swaying slightly to the song. You walk to the doorframe to watch him. As you walk up kaz looks up to smile fondly at you. You of course smile back with just as much love as him. Kaz walks over to you and reaches to connect your hands together. Kaz lightly pulls you out on to the terrace as he sings the lyrics.

“If you tell me I’m the only one that you love” Kaz softly sings. He pulls to closer to him and rests his right hand on your side and keeps the other in your hand. Kaz starts swaying you both slowly to the music.

“Life could be dream, sweetheart, hello, hello again” you smile sweetly at him and follow along to the swaying and slight swinging. Sh-boom and hopin’ we’ll meet again, boom. You both smile at each other as kaz continues

“Life could be dream, If only all my precious plans would come true, if you would let me spend my whole life loving you” Kaz leas forward to give you a quick peck and pulls back away to spin you softly in a circle. He brings you back into his arms and continues swaying with you. Kaz looks at you with just as much fondness as he has since day one. You still remember the day you you saw the look in his eyes for the 1st time.

You were sitting in his office working on the plans for the next few weeks, as he worked on his normal things. Unknown to you, anytime you were distracted by a book or paperwork, kaz would sneak glances and sometimes, just simply watch you work. He would of course always make sure to look away as you lifted your head.��

“Oh, I called Mr. Rowan to reschedule your meeting for next week instead of this Thursday and he agreed, said it actually worked better for him as well” you speak without looking up. Kaz lifts his head up from the papers laying on his desk to look at you with a confused look.

“Why did you reschedule?, was there a double schedule or something?” He goes to open his calendar on his computer while awaiting your answer. You answer while still keeping your eyes on your work

“No”

Kaz looks at his schedule for this week trying to figure out why the meeting was changed. You glance up as you hear his clicking and smile slightly. You look back down to continue working.

“I changed it because you have had a busy last few weeks and I knew you wouldn’t give yourself a an extra needed break, so I scheduled one in for you” you speak softly. Kaz leans out from behind the computer screen and watches you. 

“I can take care of myself” Kaz murmurs. You look up at him and laugh slightly.

“Sure, you can brekker”. You smile at him and go back to work. Kaz lets himself watch you and smiles fondly. You were always making sure he took care of himself in some way even if it’s as simple as keeping his water bottle full. You have always taken care of him and the crew since day one. Alway making sure everyone was good but he always wondered if you were doing the same for yourself. He sometimes found himself making sure you were taken care of just in case you were too focused on everyone else. It was small things to someone else but they were things he knew would bring a smile to your face like how there was suddenly soft pillows on the couch in his office. After one night of working late, he heard you talking about how you wished there were pillows to lean back on in his office so, he of course had inej go buy some that day.

Kaz was so lost in thought about how kind you are that he didn’t realize you looked back up.

“Is there something wrong, kaz?” You speak softly. Kaz blinks out of his thought when you speak. He instantly leans back behind his computer from embarrassment of being caught staring.

“No, everything is good” kaz quickly speaks. You smile at his actions but can also feel your cheeks warming up. You felt like you were going crazy from the way he was looking at you. There was so much fondness in his stare. Perhaps the same amount as when you look at him.

Kaz has been humming the song as he sways you both to the beat of the music. You have your head laying on his shoulder now as you move with the music. You decided to join in on the singing.

“Whoa life could be a dream, sh-boom, if I could take you to paradise above sh-boom, and tell me, darling, I’m the only one you love” you sing softly along with kaz humming. You lean your head back to look at kaz. You both sing the some of the last lyrics together 

“Life could be a dream, sweet heart, hello, hello again, sh-boom and hopin’ we’ll meet again. Boom” you both sweetly smile at the other. Kaz keeps swaying you as the music slowly fades.

 Oh, life could be dream, life could be dream, do-roo-do-do, sh-boom 

“Thank you for a lovely evening”. Kaz kisses your temple softly.

“Thank you for a lovely life” you smile and lean you head back down on his shoulder. The song ends softly as another starts. You both continue swaying softly.

“It’s been a dream come true, darling” 

[drewharrisonwriter]

One Day at a Time - Ch. 4: Normal

Pairings: Dave York x Female Reader

Series Summary: A man washed ashore, with no memory, and no name, finds a home and a life in the middle of nowhere.

Author's Notes: This story has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, waiting for the perfect moment to see the light of day. It wasn't until recently that I found the inspiration to finally finish the last two chapters, thanks to the incredible Keri @absurdthirst. Her story, "Washed Up," struck a chord with me—it had such a similar plot and concept to what I had in mind, and it reignited my passion to bring this piece to life. Keri's writing has been a constant source of solace and inspiration, and I'm endlessly grateful for her creativity and the way she crafts stories that speak to the soul. If you haven’t checked out her work, you absolutely should!

Warnings: Please be aware that this story contains elements of violence, explicit sexual content, and pregnancy. Additionally, there are medical inaccuracies throughout—because I don’t work in the medical field, so please take it all with a grain of salt. Enjoy the ride, and thank you for reading! 😊

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

The weeks had passed in a blur of routine and quiet moments shared between you and Dave. His migraines, though still present, had become more manageable with the medication the doctors had prescribed. Life on the farm had settled into a peaceful rhythm, and with each passing day, the bond between you deepened, the connection growing stronger with every shared experience.

One evening, as you sat across from each other at the kitchen table, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the room, you decided it was time to share some exciting news.

“I got an email today,” you began, your voice casual as you took a sip of your wine.

“Oh?” Dave looked up from his plate, curiosity piqued. “What’s it about?”

You couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your face. “I’ve been invited to speak at a convention in DC. It’s a big deal—a lot of people from the industry will be there.”

His eyes lit up with genuine excitement. “That’s amazing! When is it?”

“In a couple of weeks,” you replied, leaning back in your chair. “I was thinking… maybe we could make a trip out of it? You know, see the sights, visit the museums, take a little break from the farm.”

Dave nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I like that idea. I’ve never been to DC, have I?”

You tilted your head, wondering aloud. “My guess is as good as yours,”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Beats me. But hey, if I haven’t, I guess it’s about time I checked it out.”

The two of you spent the rest of the evening making plans, mapping out the places you wanted to visit and the things you wanted to do. There was an air of excitement, a sense that this trip would be a new adventure—a chance to explore not just a new city, but perhaps something deeper between you.

–

The day of the trip finally arrived, and the two of you packed your bags and set off for D.C. The drive was long, but the hours flew by in a blur of easy conversation and laughter, the kind that had become second nature between you. 

The miles rolled by as you chatted about everything and nothing, which is pretty funny for the both of you considering he does not have memories of his past, yet he talks like he does. 

When you finally pulled into the city and checked into your hotel, the sun was beginning to set. The room was cozy, with a queen bed taking center stage, its crisp white sheets inviting after the long drive. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, the air seemed to change—charged with the same electricity that had been simmering between you for weeks.

You both looked at the bed, then at each other. Dave smirked. “So… you think this one will hold up better than my bed back at home?” Referring to that moment a few weeks ago where you both were going at it so rough, that the bed literally collapsed. 

You laughed, shaking your head. “Let’s hope so. The last thing I want is for you to end up in the hospital again.” Referring this time to the first time you and Dave slept together. 

Dave raised an eyebrow, crossing the room toward you. “Are you saying I should be worried?”

“Maybe,” you teased, taking a step back as he closed the distance. “But if you’re up for the risk…”

“Always,” he replied with a grin, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you closer. “Besides, I love it when you get jealous when the nurses flirt with me…”

You scoffed at that, rolling your eyes playfully but kissed him anyway. 

“Hey…” He gasped, pulling away from the kiss “I’m yours…” He reassures you.

“Pretty sure?” you echoed, arching an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, very sure,” he conceded, his lips brushing against yours. “Let me show you…” He smirked. 

Your heart raced as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin.

“Only yours…,” he murmured before capturing your lips in a kiss, slow and teasing at first, his hands sliding up your back. The kiss deepened quickly, fueled by what felt like weeks of pent-up desire when it was only the hours-long drive that kept you both from being this close. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it up over his head in one swift motion.

Dave grinned, his eyes dark with anticipation. “In a hurry, are we?”

“Just making up for lost time,” you quipped, your hands roaming over his chest as he pulled you closer, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“I like the way you think,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. His hands moved to your hips, sliding under your shirt, his fingers brushing against your skin. “You’re not the only one who’s been waiting hours for this.”

With a quick tug, he pulled your shirt over your head, his gaze raking over you with a mix of hunger and admiration. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his hands trailing down your sides.

You felt a blush creep up your neck, but you met his eyes with a teasing smile. “Flattery will get you everywhere, you know.”

“Good,” he replied, his voice full of intent. “Because I plan on going everywhere.”

He guided you back onto the bed, his movements slow and deliberate as he settled over you. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, your hands tangling in his hair. The intensity of the moment made the world outside fade away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

“John…” you breathed his given name as his lips trailed down your neck, his hands skillfully unhooking your bra and discarding it without breaking the kiss, arching into his touch as his hands explored every inch of you.

His mouth found your nipple, teasing it with his tongue before he moved to the other, eliciting a soft moan from you. “You like that?” he asked, his voice full of warmth.

“I think you know the answer to that,” you managed to reply, your breath hitching as his hand slipped between your legs, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your underwear.

“Let’s find out for sure,” he whispered, sliding your panties down and tossing them aside. His fingers found your core, his touch gentle but purposeful, sending shivers down your spine.

“God, you’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he teased your entrance, his eyes locked on yours. “You’ve been wanting this as much as I have.” He murmurs as he inserts two of his fingers inside you.

Dave’s fingers curled upwards and moved slowly, deliberately, finding that spot inside you that always made you gasp. As he curled his fingers just right, his thumb began to rub circles on your clit, adding a new layer of sensation that made you cry out, your body arching off the bed.

"Right there?" he whispered, his voice rough with need, his breath hot against your ear.

Your response was a breathless moan, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "Yes… please… don’t stop…”

He added a third finger, stretching you further, and you gasped, your back lifting as the pressure inside you built higher and higher. "God, yeah…just like that…”

His fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. “Come on,” he coaxed, his voice low and encouraging. “I want to feel you come for me. Give it to me… let me feel you.”

Your body tensed, every muscle tightening as the pleasure spiraled out of control. “I’m… I’m so close…” you whimpered, your hips rocking against his hand, desperate for release.

“Come for me, darlin’,” he murmured, his fingers thrusting deeper, curling just right. “I want to feel you…”

And then you did, your climax crashing over you like a wave, your body convulsing around his fingers. You cried out his name, your hands fisting in the sheets, your muscles clamping down hard on his hand as he continued to work you through it, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his tone both commanding and full of adoration. 

When the last tremors subsided, he slowly withdrew his fingers, watching your face closely. His thumb rubbed one last circle over your clit, making you shiver and gasp again. “God, you’re amazing,” he said softly, bringing his fingers to his lips and tasting you. “So damn sweet.”

You smiled, still breathless, but with a teasing glint in your eye. “I think you’ve had enough fun for now…”

He chuckled, lowering his head to capture your lips in a heated kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. “Not even close,” he murmured against your mouth, positioning himself at your entrance. “I’m just getting started.”

He pushed in slowly, filling you inch by inch, his eyes never leaving yours. You gasped as he stretched you, the feeling almost overwhelming after the intensity of your release. “God, fuck…” you breathed, your hands gripping his arms.

He groaned, his forehead resting against yours as he began to move, his thrusts deep and slow, your hand moving up to cup his head, threading your fingers through his hair. “You feel so good… so perfect,” he whispered, each word a ragged breath.

You moaned, your hips meeting his, and he picked up the pace, his rhythm steady and deliberate. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

“Yes,” you gasped. “More… please, don’t stop…”

He grinned, gripping your hips tighter, lifting your bottom half off the bed slightly, changing the angle. The new position allowed him to drive deeper, each thrust hitting that spot that made your vision blur with pleasure. “How’s that, darlin’?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.

“Oh, God… yes!” you cried, your nails digging into his back as he set a relentless pace, the sound of your bodies moving together filling the room. “Just like that… don’t stop…”

He felt you tightening around him, your body trembling with the approach of another climax. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh so hard you knew it would leave bruises, but the slight pain only added to the pleasure. “Come for me again,” he demanded, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. “I want to feel you come all over me… then milk me dry…”

Your breath hitched, and with a few more thrusts, you were falling again, your body shaking as another orgasm tore through you. You cried out his given name, your muscles clenching around him, squeezing him so tightly he almost lost control.

He groaned, feeling you convulse around him, and he pushed deeper, harder, lifting your hips higher to angle even further into you. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he gasped, his voice hoarse. “I can’t… I’m so close…”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. “Come for me,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “Fill me up… I want to feel all of you…”

That was all it took. With a low, guttural moan, he drove into you one last time, his body stiffening as he came, emptying himself deep inside you. His hips jerked with every pulse, his fingers still gripping your hips like a lifeline.

He stayed buried inside you, panting, his head resting on your shoulder. “Fuck…” he breathed. “That was… incredible…”

You nodded, your body still tingling from the aftershocks. “I couldn’t agree more…”

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re not so bad yourself…”

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his expression softening. “I mean it,” he said, his voice serious. “I don’t ever want to be without you.”

You pulled him down for another kiss, feeling his heart hammering against your chest. You didn’t say anything knowing that he’s not yours to keep, instead, you kissed him again. 

He grinned, his hands caressing your sides as he held you close. “I’m yours,” he murmured, and you felt his body relax into yours, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

–

Over the next few days, you and Dave played tourists, taking in the sights and sounds of the nation’s capital. You visited the National Mall, wandering through the museums that lined its expanse. The Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History captivated both of you, with its towering dinosaur skeletons and dazzling gemstone exhibits. Dave seemed particularly fascinated by the Air and Space Museum, spending hours admiring the aircraft and spacecraft on display.

“Can you imagine being up there?” Dave mused as you stood beneath the massive Space Shuttle, his eyes wide with wonder.

You smiled, slipping your hand into his. “I think you’d make a great astronaut. You’ve got the calm under pressure thing down.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Maybe in another life.”

Each day brought new experiences, and with them, a growing sense of ease and contentment. The city was vibrant, and full of energy, and you found yourself enjoying every moment with Dave by your side. Whether you were strolling through the U.S. Botanic Garden, admiring the lush greenery, or standing in awe of the Lincoln Memorial at dusk, there was a sense of connection that made the trip feel special.

Next Chapter 👉🏻

[hoppingonjim]

groupie love [ e. munson ]

summary : groupie love but made for eddie munson. inspiration taken from the song groupie love by lana del rey. interpretation is my own.  apologies if it’s rushed!

a/n : finally i write for my lana month! and this wasn’t even meant for the first day, oopsies. oh well! link is here ,  you can request a song for a character (:

cw: afab!reader, f!reader, p in v unprotected, small oral (m receiving), dom!eddie, rockstar!eddie, groupie!reader, possessiveness, girl bringing down others if you glimpse, crushes, lowercase intentional, lover-ish story? gross french smooching!! jealousy, groupie culture.  lmk if i missed anything!

on stage he’s electric. the sexual prowess unmatched. he’s fingering the strings of his guitar rapidly, earning moans of stringing chords. the crowd is wild, bumping you, shoving you. when his eyes aren’t focused on his baby, they’re on his other baby. you.

the crowd breeds admiration. a pool for love is all looked up at the band who’s center stage. literally. figuratively. it’s not rare for some jealousy to crawl into your heart, shoving people aside and away from you. payback for all their screams and flashes. you were too above such a level of neediness, cattiness. dignity is abandoned when the hems fly to their necks, breasts on sight for a bar to see. but your man is only a man at that, it’s only natural for his eyes to bulge. pop out at the lovely sights bestowed upon him.

the shows over in a few minutes. only two smiles were fluttered your way. a disappointing blow from last week's ten. is it a habit to count? perhaps. but habits make things feel natural. you’re all musty when you’re in the cold. behind the building the bricks cradle you, kiss the soft skin of your back. eddie doesn’t wait backstage anymore, his mind and cock too eager to meet up with you. you try to be a fleeting whirl of pleasure, but as always desperation gets in the way. your desperation for such a handsome lead singer tended to destroy your brilliant plans.

“howdy there, baby. you like the show?” and he’s all sweaty too. beads of sweat roll down from rosy cheeks to bring awareness to the cheeky grin he wears. arms are welcoming, comforting when they engulf you. the musk is fine, it’s eddie. his cologne has surrendered to the smoke the bar mothers. fiery bodies are connected when he inhales deeply, the fresh scent of your perfume brewing in his senses merrily.

you don’t speak at first, pressing yourself against him, “of course i liked the show. i always like the show, you know that.” of course he knows that. an ego needs its daily feed of course. again, he’s only a man.

lips end up on each other, like always. talk was minimal. everything needed to be physical. the kiss is heated, firing up by the way his hand squeezes a chunk of your ass. he eases his actions with a ginger tap. it’s dirty once his tongue begins to find its way in your mouth. brushing your bottom lip, entangling with yours. for added filth slaps against yours. it’s not exactly a turn on, but it’s filth. everything you two are built upon. his pretty girl filthy for him, that’s all that mattered. though a current matter was getting you into the hotel.

in the hotel room, the gallery of tits he was met with no longer lingered in his thoughts. only the fact you were under him, a moaning mess. the walls plugged their ears with the constant whimpers, “fuck eddie, fuck me harder. fucking need it.”

his fingers are tight around the thick of your thigh. nail beds ghost white with each grunt from each savage thrust. skin slaps against skin, complementing your pretty moans and his nasty low grunts, “you take me good baby, pretty pussy knows her owner, huh?”

“uh-huh,” you don’t have time for words now. not when you’re mind is adulterated by him slamming into you. his mind is only a tad preoccupied by the fact your tight cunt is milking him needily, no complaints on his part however.

fingers slither around your neck, his free hand that is. a tight grip is formed, but nothing to cut off air supply. your thrown-back head is yanked upwards, your hair draping down suddenly from the sides of your head, “and who the fuck does this pretty pussy belong to?”

“you! you you you you you-” it only can repeat. he’s a record, a broken one. but your broken one. sure he could be physically possessive, but who said you couldn’t be emotionally possessive? through your fit of helplessness, you’d eventually come undone. it’s heavy and hot, your nails clawing the muscular shoulders shaking above you. and once he feels you release he pulls out , his cock throbbing. he wants to cum in you, fill you up and breed you. but you aren’t ready, he isn’t ready. a small nod towards his aching dick and your hand wraps around it, pumping him quickly. you’ve propped yourself to your knees, your limp body would have to wait. and he’s close, you can tell by how his head is tilted back, his lips are parted.

“gonna, gonna cum, put your mouth on me princess, put that good mouth on me-” he doesn’t give you time usually. a facial typically is his way to go, but you eagerly wrap your lips around him instead. did this mean something? did he not want you all messy? not want you to go through the hassle of an irritated eye and having to wipe cum off? it had to be. just had to be. little things meant the most. little things were better than- and your knocked off your train of thought by the sensation of his cum shot down your throat.

swallowing, you then pull away. your lips smack before you speak, eyes all wide while your body relays back to its much wanted limp position. you’re back to flat on your back, legs spread, arms asleep beside you. an elegant flop is what occurred in his eyes. and for him, he believed it to be more than elegant. perhaps beautiful was a better suited word.

but once the goodbyes are said he’s out the door. and once he’s out the door you don’t see his face for another week. only, he promised he’d swing by tomorrow. but that promise was made a week ago. a promise is a promise. you knew that much.

eddie wouldn’t go this week without realizing his mistake. the mistake hollered at him when his eyes fell upon his marked up calendar. there was your name in bright red ink, circled on the date for tomorrow. the date he should’ve been at your place. guitar in one hand, chocolates in the other.

you were waiting the entire day for a man who didn’t show. a man who left you hanging. there’s a knock on the door though, the following day. it had to be eddie, one of the few people who knew of your true address. though you don’t greet him. a man who doesn’t obey his promises doesn’t deserve to be greeted. was he with someone else? was he fucking some other whore? you should be his only whore. his only pieces of ass.

“baby cakes, let me in. i’m so sorry- i blanked!” eddie’s like a whimpering dog outside your freezing door. pleading for your warmth through his knocks. no complying from you though, he forgot.

until, an idea dons upon you, “sing for me, eddie. sing for me, like i mean the world to you. pretend i mean the world to you.” singing in a complex surely had to be embarrassing, a hallway where anyone could walk by. anyone at any moment. disrupting piece was one thing, but disrupting people who had no business with you? that was something else.

however, pretending like you meant the world ot him wasn’t so hard to do. he didn’t have to pretend all that much. your wish became his command when his voice began to boom in the hallway, “you should’ve been gone, knowin’ how i, made you feel, AND, i should’ve been gone! after all your, words of steel.” his voice is fluttering powerfully throughout the shallow hall. steve perry had nothing on him. your mind couldn’t craft the idea of a cheekier, cheesier song. eddie goes on for a minute and you swear you can hear the rug tweak slightly with the shimmy of his hips for the chorus.

the song is finished. humiliation, over with. and the door? it opens. seeing your face brings a special sort of light to his. and seeing such a beautifully nude body certainly expands his grin.

“so, how was it?”

you can’t answer with words. succeeding just a smile is a grasp on his wrist, which helps you drag him back into the room. you could show him just how good it all was. stealing a glance back at the raven-haired rocker only prompts you with the sight of a squeal and beam. oh yeah, he couldn’t wait.

[chaotic-goodsir]

@ashturns30 Happy birthday week! I hope it's okay for me to join in with this challenge, even if I cheated by only making something for one day and posting it a day late 😅

Your fic Remember You Like A Song - which everyone should go read first if they haven't, because it's brilliant - is THE fic that got me invested in MacNaCross in the first place. This was going to be just a short, extremely fluffy pre-portal drabble-thing inspired by it, but I got carried away and it ended up longer than planned. I hope you don't mind me posting something inspired by your fic, but no worries at all if you do for any reason - just let me know and I'll take it down.

Anyway, thank you for hosting this challenge and I hope you have a great birthday week!

***

What Was The One You Always Loved?

The highway outside is a river of speeding taillights in the dark, reflecting red and green and yellow in the rain that runs down the diner's grease-streaked window.

Steam rises from the mug of black coffee in John's hands as he waits for it to cool, soaking in the warmth. The caffeine fix should, in theory, keep him awake long enough to reach the motel PIEP have booked for them without collapsing on the side of the road.

Two pairs of motorbike gloves lie on the table, beside his wallet and an almost-empty pack of cigarettes (he'll have to pick up more at the gas station before they leave). Across the booth, Wilbur frowns at his strawberry milkshake, stirring it with a red-and-white striped plastic straw.

'I swear they used to put more sprinkles on these.' There's a solemn gravity to his tone that few people but Wil could apply to the matter at hand. 'Used to be more colours as well. Half of these are just red. What's that about?'

'Is there a difference?' John asks. 'Surely they all just taste of sugar?'

Wilbur scoops a piece of cream and eats it from the end of the straw, the actual spoon lying ignored on the table.

'Its about the principle, Johnny' he says, stabbing the straw into the air between them like a teacher illustrating a point. 'If they're gonna call them 'rainbow' sprinkles, there oughta at least be an even ratio of colours.'

John smiles, taking a sip of still-too-hot coffee.

'Duly noted, Lieutenant Colonel.'

'Don't give me that cheek, MacNamara,' Wilbur says, grinning. 'You lectured me on the flaws of digital watches for half an hour yesterday.'

'Yes, because I can't in good conscience let you waste your money on such an abomination. Time is-'

'-a precious thread in the fabric of the universe, deserves respect, sure, I get it. And sprinkles are a precious thread in the fabric of a good milkshake.'

'I'm not sure the metaphor works quite so well in this case.'

Predictably, a dollop of cream is flicked his way. He dodges with practiced ease, laughing. It hits the back of the booth, earning them a scowl from a passing waitress that's probably deserved.

The diner is quiet, save a couple of fellow travellers and a few employees unlucky enough to be working late. There's a jukebox in the corner - a classic, vintage one with that archway shape and faded neon lighting - but the scrap of paper taped to the front reads Out Of Service. A cheap plastic radio on the counter provides the alternative, courtesy of some local station's late-night show. The host sounds as though he'd rather be at home in bed. John can't help but sympathise.

A familiar sequence of strummed chords catches his attention. He taps his fingers silently against the coffee mug and listens, remembering last year on the drive back from Shenandoah National Park. (Almost a year ago, now, though it doesn't feel it. Time, for all it's importance, is a wily creature that slips away if you lower your guard.)

*

It was late summer, the tail end of a slow August. The road wound it's way like a silver snake through a sea of green just beginning to turn gold, and Wilbur was leaning against the window on the passenger side, explaining to John why he should learn to ride a motorbike.

He made some good points, but John was only half-listening, distracted by the song playing on the radio. It had seemed to fit the drive, the scenery, the whole weekend, so perfectly that it had buried itself in his brain in a way that music usually doesn't. He's heard it a few times since, always fondly picturing the same memory. And yet he's never managed to catch its name.

*

He tests the temperature of his coffee again, the burn on his tongue bringing him back to the moment.

'You good?' Wilbur asks, reaching a hand across the table. John puts the mug down and takes it, lacing their fingers together.

'Just tired.'

'You look half-dead, darlin'. No offence.'

'Coffee should help. Do you know what song this is?'

Wilbur tilts his head a little, listening.

'This one? Nah, I don't. Why?'

'No particular reason. I just like it.'

That earns him an odd sort of look, followed by a pause and a quiet 'huh' that's half a laugh.

'What's funny?'

'S'just I think that's the first time you've expressed an opinion on music that I didn't ask you for.'

John opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again. He knows he's told Wilbur how musical theatre makes him uncomfortable, and why loud music in grocery stores should be banned (it's distracting, there's no need for it, they're awful places already with their fluorescent lighting and endless rows of too many options...) - but those are probably not the kind of opinions Wilbur is talking about.

John's never had a favourite song - it's Wil whose CD collection takes up two shelves of the bookcase in their living room - but if you held a gun to his temple and demanded he choose, he'd probably pick this.

'I think I've heard this before,' Wilbur is saying now. 'It's cute, all that kiss me stuff. Very romantic. Didn't know that was your kinda thing.'

John turns his face to the window, a little embarrassed. It doesn't help his case that the singer is crooning something saccharine about fireflies.

*

The night before the drive home, the lightning bugs had surrounded their campsite, like miniature fallen stars hovering in the dusk. They were part of the reason John had wanted to come out to Shenandoah. After a week spent handling an a gruesome case, he needed the reminder that the world was more than just horror and paperwork. That sometimes it could also be beautiful.

Wilbur stood behind him on the slope of the hill, arms wrapped around John's waist. He was talking, of course. This time about watching fireflies in his parents backyard as a kid.

'They looked like this, mostly. But sometimes you'd get these weird green ones...'

'Green?' John asked.

'Yeah. Bright green, like... neon, or somethin'. They moved differently, too. Made this weird noise, sorta like whispering. Never seen them anywhere else.'

'You're sure they were fireflies?'

'I don't know,' Wilbur leaned forward, resting his chin on John's shoulder. 'Probably just imagined it. I was a weird kid. No one believed me then, either.'

John took a drag on his cigarette, careful to angle the cloud of smoke away from Wilbur's face.

'Whatever you saw, I'm sure it was real. Many things exist in this universe. There's room in the scope of infinity for green fireflies.'

Wilbur had pulled him closer, kissing him on the cheek.

'See, this is why I like ya so much. Don't matter how crazy I sound, you'll still give me a chance.'

John had laughed at that, watching the ordinary, yellow-gold fireflies form constellations around them, a million tiny fires to match the glow of his cigarette. He'd had the sudden, irrational urge to suggest they stay - pack up their tent tomorrow, leave the car behind and keep walking into the wilderness. Become their own unsolved mystery. Abandon PIEP and everything it demanded of them. Hell, even go looking for green fireflies.

He didn't dare mention it. The concept itself was less terrifying than the thought that Wilbur might agree.

'Mmm,' he'd answered instead. 'I wonder what that says about the both of us.'

*

The song fades out, lyrics first and chords trailing after. The DJ's bored monotone takes over. To John's mild irritation, he's managed to miss the name of the song yet again.

'...thank you to Jodie for requesting that one - I hope you and your husband have a wonderful wedding anniversary. So, next up we have...'

Wil stops tracing lazy circles on the back of John's hand and glances towards the radio with an amused smile.

'What?' John asks, raising an eyebrow. 'You're plotting something.'

'Me? Never. Just thinkin' I'm gonna need to find out what that song is called, since you like it so much. For future reference, y'know?'

He winks.

John frowns back, awaiting an explanation.

'For when I get round to marryin' you. Assumin' you'd want me?'

John almost spits out the coffee he's making a third attempt to drink. Several responses run through his head at the same time, none of them especially coherent.

Wilbur just laughs, and finishes the last of the milkshake.

'Don't look so scared, Johnny. When I'm really askin' I promise I'll do a hell of a lot better than that.'

[ametrictonofaudacity]

Yay matchups! So hello I hope you’re doing alright and feel free to take your time on this one :)

So my name is Lune, and please make sure it’s platonic. I’m aroace and agender, I’m 17 turning 18 (in a few weeks actually I’m pretty excited), I enjoy skating gaming drawing and playing piano (I’m trying to learn guitar). I should definitely mention that I’m autistic and have adhd, although you aren’t expected to do too much research for me, just keep in mind when going out or when I’m with too many people I end up being difficult, this also means I’m a little picky with the clothes I buy as the food I eat. As for my personality it really depends on the atmosphere and how long I’ve known someone but naturally when we just meet I’m extremely awkward, I don’t go out of my way to greet or talk to people, I usually hide or talk to anyone else in the room, plus I might find an excuse to leave early because of how low my social battery is. When I’m a little closer I’ll start being physically affectionate, of course if the friend allows it, not too much though, but it’ll still be noticeable. Speaking about physical affection that’s one of my main love languages, I am the type of friend to hug or kiss my friends on the forehead, if they’re comfortable of course! Additionally I tend to stim too much, I have a hard time controlling my vocal chords so I might appear like I’m yelling, and sometimes, if I’m in an extremely good mood, I’ll feel like I’m high off of happiness. I know I’m not high but it’s the best way to put it,y cheeks turn red I get all giddy and giggly, I run around the room, I like touching stuff with textures rub my face on it and spin around, it’s just pure hyperactivity. I already mentioned this but since I have a small social battery I might need a lot of space? Like me time. Otherwise things get too overwhelming and I shut down, I might cry even. Me time can vary depending on how long I’ve spent outside the house, like if I spent a few days with someone 3-4. I probably wouldn’t make any plans for another week and a few days. The last thing I feel like I should mention is im a little sensitive, I might not exactly cry but I’ll get hurt by a lot of things.

If this is important at all, which I doubt, but I’m raised in the Middle East, I speak Arabic and I did immigrate to North America.

Anyway that’s it thank you for your time

Hi!! Sorry this took me so long, I may or may not have gone into a depressive episode lmfao. Also I really like your name! Without further ado, here ya go! I am also autistic and ADHD, so we're twinning lmao

I match you with Clark Kent!

When the two of you meet, admittedly, it's a little awkward. Clark was used to being quiet, unassuming Clark Kent, and as you mentioned, you don't go out of your way to engage with new people. And Clark wouldn't want to pressure you, he can see how uncomfortable you are, and he understands that some people just didn't like strangers, simply because they were strangers.

But then the two of you keep meeting, and gradually, you start growing more comfortable around him. Part of this is due to Bruce, who he had gotten used to stealing away when the other hero got too uncomfortable in a situation, and had unintentionally taught him how to spot when someone's social battery was getting low, even if they were forcing themselves not to show it in any obvious ways. So he would guide you away with a comforting hand on your shoulder, and make quiet excuses for you, saying how he needed you to help him with this or that thing, how he was very sorry but it just couldn't wait. If you needed to be alone, in order to recharge your social battery before the next bit of interaction, he would run interference, making sure you had time to recuperate. Half the time he just sicced Jon on them, because his son would also be very fond of you and look up to you as an older sibling, even if he realizes he's your sibling before Clark realizes he's your Dad.

As for sensory issues and being a picky eater or being picky in regards to clothes, Clark has so much experience in this you have no idea. Even if his own children didn't struggle with textures, which they do with both Conner and Jon being ADHD which they inherited from him, he struggled a lot with textures as a kid himself. Granted, part of it was due to super senses overwhelming him before he had gotten his invulnerability, but still. Sensory overload is hell, and he is aware of it. He goes out of his way to try and memorize what textures you enjoy, and which ones you don't like.

I think the first time he realizes how fond he is of you, and that you are absolutely his kid, is the first time you openly show excitement and enthusiasm in front of him. I could see Conner teaching you guitar, or maybe the two of you playing together with you playing the piano while Conner plays the guitar and this man is just- big feelings. Big feelings he has no idea what to do with because those are his kids and he loves them so much he thinks he might die from how strong it is.

He absolutely gets you blankets with texture you like too, and various stim toys. He may accidentally steal one, though, be warned.

I honestly see him as being the sort of person to try and learn more about where you were raised. Does this mean he will be trying to learn Arabic? Yes. Is he very good at it at first? No. Does he have a best friend who's son is more than willing to insult him if it meant he got better at speaking Arabic? Yes, even if Damian could afford to be a little less mean about it.

Another good thing is that Clark is pretty much the ideal for if you feel you cry or get upset easy. He's able to actually communicate his emotions, unlike some (*cough* Batman *cough*) and he knows how to make himself seem less intimidating.

All in all, cool dad. Even as a platonic yandere, he would be pretty chill, although there's more kidnapping involved

[izzystradliniscute]

Izzy Stradlin magazine interview-Kerrang #421

IZZY STRADLIN's out on his first solo tour since quitting Guns N' Roses, and he's finding out that without his erm, unpredictable former collegues, gigging, and living, is easy. Backed by a mellow, cool and rockin' band, Izzy hits the UK this week. PAUL ELLIOTT hits Bonn, to find our hero wandering around a hotel lobby... wearing a parka!

JUST A few days after Axl Rose was found guilty of assaulting a fan at a Guns N' Roses concert which subsequently ended in a riot, former GN'R guitarist Izzy Stradlin walks freely through a hotel lobby in Bonn, Germany's capital. Nobody hassles him, snaps a photograph or picks a fight. Even GN'R fans might struggle to recognize the dreadlocked Stradlin in his new parka coat. There's just Izzy, no bodyguards or crowds. Izzy Stradlin couldn't be happier about walking out on the biggest rock'n'roll band in the world. Later that day, onstage with his new band Ju Ju Hounds in a Bonn hall a little bigger than the Marquee, Stradlin looks relaxed even though he's still getting to grips with the role of frontman. And he smiles now and then, something he didn't do too much of during the last of his six years with Guns N' Roses. At Wembley Stadium in September of 1991, Stradlin stuck close to his backline while Axl howled and buzzed around like a dog chasing its own tail. When Guns' set finished, Izzy was first out of sight. In Bonn, he talks to the crowd in their native tongue and clearly relishes playing and sharing jokes with the 'Hounds. "It's cool," he says, "real cool. These gigs have been more exciting than doing the stadiums with GN'R on the last tour. All the people are right there - it's an instant, spontaneous response, y'know? it feels real good." The gigs are of course more low-key than Guns N' Roses' controversial 'Get In The Ring' shows, which is just the way Izzy likes it. "There's less drama, which I prefer. It's kinda nice, y'know, being able to make plans. It's nice not to get phone calls like, 'This gig's cancelled, your drummer just took off'! These new guys carry on, but put it this way, we don't have any babysitters - so if you're gonna drink, you gotta get your shit together and get to the bus on time. "The first year of getting sober, I got used to watching my friends drink and snort. I haven't been around it lately."

SINCE IZZY hasn't touched alcohol for three years, Ju Ju Hounds drummer Charlie Quintana retires to his room to drink a bottle of cognac. The Ju Ju Hounds are wiser than most rock'n'roll bands. Guitarist Rick Richards plied his trade with the Georgia Satellites for many years, until they lost their record deal and split. Richards was the working the bars of his native Atlanta when he got the call from Izzy. he looks like he's seen it all, and spins a great yarn over dinner. Rick also plays a mean slide, and is in many ways the star of the show, knocking out great leads with the obligatory cigarette stuck to his bottom lip. Rock'n'roll is in Rick Richards' blood. Charlie has toured with Bob Dylan and enjoys winding up the fans waiting outside the Bonn gig by jumping behind the wheel of the tour bus and threatening to run punters over, yelling, "I don't need a licence - I'm from Texas"! Jimmy 'Two Fingers' Ashhurst (Which two fingers, you may wonder. "It depends!") used to play bass for the Broken Homes, and was the first person Izzy turned to when he was putting the band and the brilliant '...Ju Ju Hounds' album together. Jimmy seems to be laughing most of the time, although he wasn't laughing when he read Bret Easton Ellis' 'American Psycho' recently!

CURRENTLY, THE Ju Ju Hounds' live set includes several covers; The Rolling Stones' 'Jiving Sister Fanny', The Faces' 'My Fault', The Maytals' 'Pressure Drop', of course... but no Guns N' Roses songs. "No," Izzy shrugs. "In Australia, there was a guy in just about every front row yelling

for 'Dust N' Bones' or something, and I'm hitting a chord every time they shout, going, 'What?!.' "I can understand people wanting to hear that stuff - we were gonna rehearse some songs - but in GN'R, I didn't have any singles out. I wrote 'Patience' but I didn't sing it. We just figured, 'Fuck it'." "I don't miss those GN'R songs cos the stuff we've got now is better - better written, better to play. It's totally freeform; we break things down, extend them. If I come in late on a verse or miss it, we'll just look at each other and Rick'll keep going, do a solo or something. "It's real good; once the momentum's there, whatever happens, happens. Last night, I couldn't see the set-list and started two songs wrong. We can sound bad! "In Stockholm, we started with 'Bucket O' Trouble' and everyone was in a different fucking key, man! After the first few bars you could feel your stomach turning; it was bad. I was looking over thinking, I don't know who's in the right key, but when we came to the verse, somehow everybody went back to the right key, the A. It was just one of those things. Rick's going, 'Maybe we should just do that every night, start it out all fucked-up and then click into the A!'. It happens. You gotta flow with it."

NOW YOU'RE back on the road, do you miss the drug high, or the buzz of being in GN'R? "Well, in GN'R I wasn't singing, I wasn't fronting the band, which is a little different. So now, carrying the vocals for most of the set as well as playing has pretty much replaced the buzz. "Even if you're tired, a crowd can lift you up; you feed on that energy. And when we're not touring, dirtbikes are my fix. When we went back to Indiana for a week off, it was 15 degrees outside, cold, but I rode the bikes with my dog Treader chasing me all over fields and shit! That makes me feel good again, cos when I got back from Australia, where I picked up that flu virus, I was pretty haggard. Riding bikes beats sitting around doing krell or something." 'Krell' is rocker slang for cocaine, inspired by the movie 'Heavy Metal', in which long-trunked monsters from the planet Krell descended to snort the Earth! " A lot of the time when I was using (drugs), I'd just end up with a guitar, writing or recording some pretty depressing songs. I thought they were good at the time, and a couple are not too bad, but a lot of the shit I listen back to and think, ugh, that's fucking depressing, or I think of the state I must have been in; lips all cracked, been up for five days, voice gone. Once you got doing you'd never stop. "I could stay up for four or five days straight doing krell and smack or whatever, up and down up and down, writing songs all the time and recording on my eight-track. But give me a bottle of whisky and send me to a club one night, and I'm the guy in the alley throwing up and rolling around. "It just didn't work; it just poisons me and I don't know why. I got Indian blood, and my mom says that's why I can't handle liquor, but it's still a thing I did for a long time. Everybody drinks around me now, but it doesn't bother me. I mean, I don't see these guys throwing up in alleys after gigs or falling down steps. "Most people drink, and for them it's no big deal, but it fucked me up. Now when I look at it, there's like tour life and civilian life. I try to keep two different realities. "When I stopped using, for the first few months I didn't sleep normal for a long time. Somebody told me it takes about a year for your body patterns to get back to normal. I sleep good now."

DID YOU at any point continue using drugs simply to feed the creative process? "Yeah, but there were times when I'd been up for three days working on a song and it still wasn't finished! I heard this one song back, and I'd done, God, five guitar tracks on it, and two or three of the tracks were the same melody played on just one string. And I heard this shit back and I was going, 'Garbage', y'know? "When GN'R did 'Appetite For Destruction', I hadn't really cleaned up, but I'd cleaned up enough to record during the day, then go out at night and drink and do krell and stuff, sleep in till noon, come back in and record. So during the actual recording I wasn't getting too wasted. "For the 'Use Your Illusion' albums, I was sober doing those tracks, and it was just frustrating. When you're sober and you gotta be someplace at four, and when other people come in at six or seven, and they're, like, not quite together, you find yourself thinking, why the fuck was I here at four? "For the basic tracks on 'Illusions', I was done with my stuff in about four or five weeks. That was easy. "For the new record, me and Jimmy and Rick and Charlie would be in the studio at noon, so by one o'clock the amps were warmed up and cranckin' and we were jammin', and after jammin' for a coupla hours we'd start tracking. We finished up the whole thing, including moving base three times from LA to Chicago to Copenhagen, in four or five months, and we had an album which to me rocks as good as any of the stuff I did with GN'R. "That wouldn't have happened like it did had I still been using and all that stuff, but at the same time there have been some songs that came out pretty quickly when I was using; sometimes they come out easy."

'APPETITE FOR Destruction', arguably the hard rock record of the '80s, changed Izzy Stradlin's life irrevocably. Izzy's recollections of the album and GN'R's rise to superstar status are hazy. It is, after all, five years since the album was released, and Izzy's hard drug intake at the time was pretty fucking serious! "I'm real bad at remembering songs, even ones I've done," he chuckles. " 'Paradise City', 'Sweet Child O' Mine'. That was a point where we were on tour with Aerosmith, and David Geffen (founder of GN'R's label) flew out to a gig and he says, 'You guys are rich and famous now'. And we were like, ''We are?! We're still living in a tour bus and in hotels, so what's the difference?'. "I haven't heard 'Appetite...' in years, but I was pretty happy with what it sounded like back then, and fuck, it sold millions of copies, man! "With 'Appetite', I just think of seven or eight months of absolutely no notoriety or any real popularity, and then a few Number One singles, and this explosion, and now you're a pop star. "Well, fuck this, gimme a six pack and a gram of coke and gram of smack and I'll go write some more songs! Isolation was the next point from there. It was great, but it was a load of bullshit being a pop star, so we just isolated ourselves and ignored that crap. After a few months of isolation, that didn't work either. It was time to go back to the Mid-West and hook up some old friends..."

So Izzy quit GN'R for peace of mind, and wound up forming the coolest rock'n'roll band in the world that ain't the Black Crowes.

[xenon-demon]

WIP Wednesday ✒️

Tagged by @stobinesque - thank you so very much!!

RULES:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

WIPs:

steddie domestic hairwashing

steve overstimulation projection manifesto

cheerscoops fake dating season 3 au (steddie/buckingham)

when you come back, it's gravity (kas!steve au)

med student steve & nurse eddie who is sick of his shit

Gonna be real with y’all, the only WIP I’ve wrote anything for in the last week is #2 because it’s been A Week. (Also don’t let the WIP name fool you I mean overstimulation in the autistic kind of way, not the kink way lmao)

No pressure whatsoever buuuut I’m gonna tag @onirislanding and @sailors-ink!

Snippet from “steve overstimulation projection manifesto” (under a cut for length):

This time, however, his alarm clock says it’s only 1:27 AM. What’s more, it was even on his nightstand this time. Sure, Eddie had to move a bunch of papers from his campaign planning and a magazine or two he’d haphazardly dumped there to be able to read it, but it was actually on the nightstand. Where it belongs. Eddie’s really winning in the game of life tonight.

His winning streak only continues as he hears the shuffle of footsteps and the squeak of the trailer door closing behind Steve. Because at this time, Eddie knows it has to be his boyfriend; Family Video closes at midnight on Saturday nights. Factor in the time it takes Steve to close up shop and then drive over to the trailer, and there you have- wait.

It definitely doesn’t take an hour and half for Steve to get home after work – even if Saturday is one of their busiest nights.

Eddie is suddenly struck by the realization that it’s one of those nights.

“Stevie? Sweetheart?” Eddie calls out. He starts standing up, gingerly stepping over the notebook and loose pages scattered around his feet so he doesn’t crush them. He’s got probably three half-songs’ worth of chords and tentative lyrics in there somewhere, he doesn’t want to lose them. By the time he’s done that, put his guitar down, and quickly scooped all his papers into a rough pile he can sort through later, Steve’s entered his bedroom.

He doesn’t even spare Eddie a glance before immediately planting face-first onto his mattress.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie coos, coming over to sit next to Steve on the bed. Steve makes a noise in acknowledgement, although it’s heavily muffled by the mattress. “Stevie, can I touch you?” Eddie gets another muffled noise in response to that, but this one sounds distinctly like an uh-huh. Taking the confirmation for what it is – this is not Eddie’s first rodeo with nights like these, after all – he reaches out and rubs a firm hand up and down Steve’s back.

Steve sighs contentedly at the contact, some of the tension slowly leeching out of his muscles. They sit like that for a few moments, Eddie half massaging him and half just letting him know he’s there, before Steve says something else. He says it directly into the mattress, just like before, so Eddie doesn’t understand a single word of it.

“Wanna try that again, sweetheart?”

Steve lets out an enormous sigh, and then turns his head to the side to face Eddie. “Wan’ you to lay on me,” he says, and it still comes out a bit slurred. Whether it’s from the way Steve’s cheek is still smushed into the mattress, or talking is just a bridge too far for his baby right now, Eddie doesn’t know and frankly, does not care.

“Sure thing. You want your work uniform off first?”

“Just the vest.” Steve’s eyes are shut, and there’s a faint frown between his brows. It’s adorable, and Eddie knows he’s going to do something stupid like bite Steve if he keeps looking at his gorgeous face, so he quickly busies himself with removing Steve’s work vest. It only takes the gentlest of encouragement for Steve to move his arms as needed, Eddie trying his best to take off the vest without making Steve feel unnecessarily constricted. As he does so, he hears Steve taking some deep breaths in and out, and he smiles.

That’s one of the things they both find helpful, when they get overwhelmed like this; taking a moment to just breathe, as deep as you can. Slowly, in and out, and feel the stretch of your chest expanding each time you breathe in. It’s grounding – and plus, it’s harder to freak out about something when you’re physically forcing yourself not to hyperventilate. Eddie knows he and Steve have very different levels of success on that front, though.

Now that Steve’s vest is gone, however – and Eddie’s just flung it somewhere across the room, deciding it’s Future Eddie and Steve’s problem – it’s time for what his darling boyfriend actually asked for.

[stularsen]

CLOTHES LINE COVER These Days - Jackson Browne

This is far from perfect, but I have decided to share it anyway. I have known for more than a week that I wanted to share a little cover today and I knew how and where I wanted to film it. But during the week I got so lost in recording the new song I wrote this month (I can’t wait for you to hear/see the demo version at the end of January) and I finally got around to attempting to film/record this cover yesterday. 

Sunday afternoon, everything was set. I had spent so long checking camera things and doing a few little audio and video tests to make sure I was doing everything correctly and then I finally did this first full take. I came back inside to import and check if it looked and sounded okay before going out to do another take or two. But in these minutes, the rain arrived. And so suddenly! I saved the guitar and camera and microphones and it rained and rained. And rained. The thunderstorms rolled in and washed away the afternoon. This forced me to make a decision.. to not share anything from this week of Solitude like I had planned.. or to share this imperfect first take of a cover of one of my favourite songs.. I chose to share. 

I have decided that Solitude is not only about being in these locations alone, it also means doing everything completely on my own, including recording and filming. These are two things I am still trying to learn as I go and this means that the things I share online this year will not be perfect. I have come to accept this. I guess this is the reason I want to post this first cover just as it is in this first take. Microphone wires not yet tied up and away. Speeding up and slowing down as I play some wrong chords. My thinking face, wondering if this first take will look and sound okay and also hoping the sheep in the field to my right don’t make too much noise in this moment (you can hear them a few times). Fumbling over some notes, most ironically as I sing the word ‘failures’ in the last line - ‘don’t confront me with my failures, cos I have not forgotten them’. It is far from perfect (sorry Jackson Browne), but I am okay with that. 

It has also been extra interesting this month because I have had no phone connection or wifi apart from when I head into town each Monday. I haven’t been able to quickly search for answers to camera or microphone issues and there’s no Jarrad or Nic to get some video help from, and no Tim or Luke or Rich or Chris to get some quick audio tips from. But this is how I want it. To be in it. Completely. On my own. And to find my way through. To sometimes fail. To sometimes succeed. But to get better at doing these things as the weeks and months roll along. 

Thank you if you’ve read this far. Thank you for following along and going on this journey with me. It’s the biggest most craziestly gigantic idea I ever had and it has already become the best thing I ever dreamed up. I can not wait to see what comes out of the rest of January and also the eleven months ahead! 

[dallasewing]

Week 5-6 Post

Hello all! How are we doing? I'm great, thanks! 

Over the halfway point now, and the light at the end of the tunnel is getting close. It's a lot of work bringing all of this to you folk, but it's been really fun! 

The new systems and workflows mentioned last week have become incredibly useful for these past few weeks, and I'm already finding that they're coming in handy in my personal life too.  

Anyway, I digress. Let's look at what's happened over the past two weeks! 

How did these weeks go? I've made a lot of progress in all areas covered over the past two weeks! My vocal and piano recording knowledge has really been improved upon, and I feel incredibly confident with how I'd implement the techniques learned in real-world scenarios. I've understood how best to set up a room for both vocal and piano recording, and I've had a chance to learn about and use some of the most important pieces of equipment for vocal recording. For piano recording, I'd only managed to get access to an upright piano but have still managed to capture some great sounding stems that really show my progress with these techniques, though a few of the planned techniques ended up with me being unable to achieve them with the setups and resources available to me.  

With mixing this week, I feel I've successfully understood how to create a good sounding vocal mix, researching and employing some key techniques and methods for refining a vocal recording, and I feel really confident going forwards that I could create a solid mix of a vocal performance. As for Week 6, I looked more into some post-production FX, specifically reverb and delay, and, whilst I don't feel like I've necessarily made loads of progress with this, I've already covered and understood a lot of the knowledge when looking at FX pedals in Week 3, and I feel confident applying this knowledge to a mixing scenario.  

Instrumental techniques this week were also incredibly successful. I've conducted some more research into different drum rudiments and put my knowledge together to create a practice routine that I (and you) can use every day! I've also explored some complex piano harmony techniques, and then how to play these. I feel like I've made a lot of progress in this area, and, even though I'm not Elton John - yet - I still feel like I can understand and apply these harmonic techniques to performances and compositions, which is really great especially for songwriting.  

Moving forwards, I'll be researching and developing my knowledge of room mic and synth recording, looking into mic positions, choices, and techniques for creating a great sounding room mic recording, as well as necessary cable setups and patch building tips for recording hardware synths (I'm extremely excited for this). I'll also be looking at mastering techniques, specifically limiting and audio enhancement. I'll be applying new knowledge from this week to some of the mixdowns from the previous weeks - most probably the drum mixes from Week 2/3 - and hopefully come out of these weeks with a decent sounding master (for my first swing of the bat; can't aim too high, can we?). Finally, the topics I'm most excited for: exploring modes on the guitar and bass chords. I want to understand how modes work and their purposes, and then apply this knowledge to the guitar, building up and learning how to play one of the modes on all 12 frets. For the bass chords, I'm wanting to learn how to play different 'types' of chords, and then apply these to a chord progression performance on the bass guitar. Both of these techniques will be incredibly useful when performing as a session musician, and I really can't wait to get started.  

On the whole, I feel like this course has really become something great. Being able to boost my own knowledge whilst also providing some support and resources for you fellow enthusiasts has been really fun, and I'm sure will continue to be for these final weeks! 

Anyways, it's time to get back to work for these final weeks! The next time we speak will be at the end of this course! I'll post a final in-depth Week 7-8 post, and then a finale closing post summarising everything, as well as providing an easy-to-follow guide, somewhat like a tl;dr of this course! 

Before I go, I'll leave you with this: Did you know it's illegal to own only one guinea pig in Switzerland? Owners must have two or more, as they get lonely! 

Goodbye for now, 

Caleb! 

P.S. No, of course I haven't forgotten the links! 

Weekly Plan 

Week 5 

- Recording Techniques 

- Mixing + Mastering 

- Instrumental Techniques 

Week 6 

- Recording Techniques 

- Mixing + Mastering 

- Instrumental Techniques 

[magbld]

journaling as a tribute! #1

I don't really care who reads my entries or journalling honestly, what do you even gain? have some insight on my life. But I want to start blogging ? (hopefully that's the right term) about my life as I try to grow into a better person. This journal is a tribute to you! it'll be my outlet of how I would've talked to you about my day in our past. Today, I had an interview at the grocery store. I think it went well, I hope it went well LOL. God was it so crowded in there, I came early (about 5-10 mins before it was schedule) and my interviewer wasn't even there! What the fuck ! LOL. I was told to wait another 15 minutes for her to come and she did. It was so crowded, we had no where to sit. Do you know those stairs that lead to the botany? we literally sat behind it (sitting on boxes, she doodled my resume) as she spoke and questioned about me. I think it went well at least, I hope so! I'd like a little more money for the future at least. For my car, more specifically. I wish we were still together till I had my car, it would've been such a nice moment for me to be at that milestone with you. I would've loved that. I also thought about how much money I've spent on us in total! LOL it's so much, we burn through money like it's nothing. I don't regret it though, my memories are priceless. Otherwise, the 3 hours at Bath and Body Works a week is not cutting it (bruhhhh). The position I applied for was to be a fast-food counter attendant, you know the one who makes the banh mis(Viet sub)? I'm sure you had one at my place before, I'll become and expert at them. She asked if I wanted to work at the seafood if possible, I said NAH!!!! I'm literally allergic to crab. I think I would've died if I were to kill a crab. Otherwise, I think it went well; I'd get a call from them tomorrow around 4-5 if I got hired. I plan on doing my push workout today, calisthenics. I'll get started later on, my usual: 4x50 pushups superseded with 4x25 tricep pushups; 4x15 lateral raises superset with 4x12 shoulder press; 4x8 shoulder mobility work superset with 4x15-25 tricep extensions; then finally a superset with some other exercises I forgot to name. My older brother wants to work out with me again. although, I doubt we will, he doesn't have the interests in moving weights around. He's much more fitted for activity then a free weight regime. I saw a TikTok about a book called Heaven by Mieko Kawakami, I saw the ending part and it reminded me of you sadly. I think I want to read it no matter how heart shattering it may become for me LOL. I don't plan to code for the rest of the winter break, I can't urge the energy for it. I think I'll treat myself to a new backpack. I saw a sling bag ( I know you hated them ) but I want to get it. I think it'll look stylish with some outfits in my mind. It's called the S-ZONE Sling bag one strap on amazon. I plan to practice the guitar some more, I've learned D, A and E chords and who knows what'll learn next. I don't think I learn Brokeback mountain anytime soon. I can't bare my self too. I cried a few times last night (hard too! I haven't done that in a while. I'm glad you made me know I still have that in me) and a few times today. I told my mum we broke up and I had to walk away to tearfully pet lychee. My mum's not much of a help at all in this area bruh. She was like "okay! can't wait to see you bring an asian or white girl home" and I was like fuck no. I don't want to date anyone or see anyone anytime soon. I just wanted you. Although, it was a little funny. I know I've always told you that I was okay with ending things and I always braced/prepared myself for this. And I did. But god does it still hurt so fucking bad. I hope you're doing well, I miss you and love you still. I don't want to us to get back together (even though I selfishly really do) because I do not want you to have to decide or have issues with your self-identity. It's for the best for you and for me. I kept thinking of things we've done and places we've been to. It's crazy how much of an imprint you have on me.

[icywaddle]

HI GANG SORRY THIS TOOK A WHILE

Word count: 1746

Kanade sighed, collapsing back in her chair and clicking play. The sound of Nightcord’s most recent song began playing in her headphones, delicate chimes and flowing chords swarming her mind. Her room was dark, the air a comfortably warm temperature. The screens in front of her had dulled, sensing her lack of activity. She smiled softly, allowing herself to relax as the result of their month’s work lulled her into a drowsy stupor. Kanade knew she should probably get up, but she was too tired to move from her chair, comfortable as it was.

Instead, she settled for leaning forward slightly and clicking a few tabs shut, accidentally knocking a mug off of the desk. She yelped, lunging forward to try and catch it, but the mug shattered against the floor before she could catch it. At least it was empty. Muttering a curse, Kanade simply syared at the broken shards. The mug had been part of a set. One for her, her mother, and her father. carefully turned her chair around and slipped off of it, planning to head out of her room to grab the broom and dustbin. She’d hoped that the noise wouldn’t wake Mafuyu, but a soft groan from the corner of the room dashed that hope quickly.

“Kanade..?” Mafuyu mumbled, turning around on the bed and sitting up. Kanade walked over to her, crouching slightly by the bed as Mafuyu rubbed at her eyes.

“I’m alright. Sorry for waking you up. I- uh… Broke a mug.” Kanade murmured reassuringly, giving Mafuyu’s shoulder a gentle pat. Mafuyu seemed to wake up more at the news, shaking herself and pulling the blanket off. Kanade tilted her head, confused. “Why are you getting up?”

Mafuyu stood, stretching “To help clean it up.”

Kanade shook her head. “No, it’s alright. I can do it. You don’t have to-”

“Kanade, the last time I left you alone with a broken plate you cut your hand and got ceramic shards inside of the carpet.” Mafuyu stared at Kanade, daring her to argue. Kanade looked down sheepishly. “I’m cleaning it up.”

“At least let me help-” Kanade protested, following Mafuyu out of the room.

Mafuyu seemed to think for a moment. “Can you grab a container to put the shards in? They’ll tear the bag if we put them in the trash.”

“Ah..” Kanade hesitated. “Y-Yeah. Right. We should throw it out…” She fidgeted awkwardly with her fingers,

“..?” Mafuyu tilted her head, considering something. She stared at Kanade, the latter feeling as if she was being pierced by Mafuyu’s piercing gaze. “Mm.. actually, wait. I’ll put the shards away for now.”

Kanade blinked, surprised, but nodded. “Alright… Thank you.” Mafuyu left the room and grabbed the dustbin, sweeping everything up as Kanade grabbed a Tupperware container to keep the pieces in. Mafuyu gently slid them off of the dustpan, taking the container from Kanade.

“What are you going to do with them?” Kanade asked, curious.

Mafuyu shrugged, tucking the container away on a shelf. “You’ll see.”

Kanade glanced at her, then at the shards, before mumbling something softly. “Don’t get rid of them, please.”

“I won’t.” Mafuyu said, already sitting back down. “I promise.”

Reassured, Kanade nodded, stumbling over to sit on the edge of the bed. She knew she should’ve headed into the other room to sleep, but her legs felt too heavy to move.

“… would you mind if I slept here tonight?” Kanade asked, glancing at Mafuyu. She knew she usually slept late, but it was a weekend. Mafuyu didnt usually go anywhere on weekends, preferring to rest from the rest of her strenuous week and After a moment of hesitation, Mafuyu nodded, scooting over on the small bed and pulling the covers open. Kanade slipped in, and Mafuyu tucked the blanket around her, encasing them both in a warm pocket. Yawning, Kanade felt the drowsiness begin to take over again. She reached around for the pillow, finding it and hugging it to her chest. It felt strangely warm tonight, but she wouldn’t complain.

“Goodnight, Kanade.” Mafuyu’s voice murmured, almost soft enough to fall below the humming of Kanade’s PC.

“Mm.. Night, Mafuyu.” Kanade hummed back, somehow too sleepy to notice how her pillow seemed to tense every time she readjusted her hold.

Kanade groaned as bright sunlight assaulted her eyes, shifting and lifting one of her hands to cover her eyes. She felt a weight resting on her other arm, realizing her arm was still probably wrapped under the pillow. Except, it felt a bit heavy for a pillow, didn’t it? Kanade glanced down, blinking and rubbing her eyes with her free hand. Mafuyu was lying down, eyes closed peacefully, head resting securely on the pillow. Then… what had Kanade been…

Oh.

Kanade eyed her hand, trapped under Mafuyu’s torso and wrapping around her waist.

Oh.

She blinked, heat rising to her cheeks as she continued to stare down at her stuck arm. Had she… been doing that all night?

Mafuyu grumbled sleepily, snapping Kanade out of her thoughts. She didn’t want to wake her, but she couldn’t exactly move. Still… she didn’t really have anything to do today, did she?

Before she could figure out a good course of action, Mafuyu made the choice for her, groping for something to hold on to and catching Kanade’s hand. Kanade had about a second to register Mafuyu’s cold fingers around her wrist before she was being pulled back down, falling onto the bed with a small oof.

Mafuyu let out a soft hum, seeming content as Kanade tried to register the sudden movement. With a soft sigh, she laid back down, relaxing and wrapping her arm back around Mafuyu. Perhaps she had enough time for a small nap.

It was late afternoon when Kanade woke again, warm amber light cascading through the now fully opened curtains. She sat up slowly, noting the empty coldness of the sheets next to her. Mafuyu had seemingly left while she was still sleeping. Yawning, she rubbed her eyes, standing and leaning on the doorframe for a second to let the fuzzy feeling in her head settle. Once she was fit to move again, she strode out of the bedroom, heading for the living room.

Kanade stopped at a doorway, noticing that Mafuyu was in the kitchen, back to the door as she faced the stove. As she stood there, she was hit with the warm smell of pork broth, wafting from the pot on the stove. Her stomach growled softly, both reminding her of her lack of food and alerting Mafuyu to her presence.

“Good afternoon, Kanade.” Mafuyu said, turning and nodding to acknowledge Kanade’s presence. Kanade nodded back, stifling another yawn as she walked to Mafuyu’s side. She reached out a hand almost subconsciously, tapping Mafuyu’s palm and twining their fingers together. Mafuyu squeezed back, using her other hand to stir the pot gently. Kanade peered into it, seeing noodles and pork swimming in a rich beige mixture.

“Are you making ramen?” Kanade asked, glancing at the food.

Mafuyu nodded, tapping the excess soup off of the ladle before removing it from the mixture. “The textures seem fine to me, but please feel free to make adjustments to the taste if necessary. I followed the recipe as best I could, but…” She trailed off, shrugging noncommittally and scooping up a spoonful of the soup. Kanade nodded back, blinking as the spoon was held to her mouth.

“Here.” Mafuyu said simply, tilting her head as Kanade blew on the hot soup to cool it down before drinking. “How is it?”

Kanade smiled approvingly. “It’s delicious. Thank you.” Mafuyu said nothing, but gave Kanade’s hand a gentle squeeze as she picked out bowls for both of them and assembled noodles, pork, egg, soup, and onions in each. She slid a pair of chopstick into one bowl, handing it off to Kanade, who reluctantly unlinked their fingers to hold it properly. Mafuyu grabbed her own bowl and walked with Kanade to the living room table, sitting down side by side with her as they began to eat.

Mafuyu’s lack of expression while eating captivated Kanade. She couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the other girl’s blank face. I wonder.. what eating is like for her. Kanade ate a spoonful of her ramen, noting the rich pork flavor that flooded her mouth, coupled with the crisp of green onion and the simple base of the noodles. She gazed at Mafuyu once more, unable to stop a certain feeling of sadness creeping into her heart. If she hasn’t been able to taste for years… Kanade didn’t even want to imagine that. She’s going to taste food again. I’ll make sure of it. Kanade didn’t know how exactly she was going to help return Mafuyu’s sense of taste, but damn it if she wasn’t going to try.

“Ah.” Mafuyu hummed as Kanade finished her food. “I have something for you.”

Kanade raised an eyebrow questioningly, watching as Mafuyu stood and walked to the shelf, grabbing a small, unpatterned cardboard box off of it. She placed it on the table in front of Kanade, sitting back down next to her. After a moment’s hesitation, Kanade reached over and pulled the package closer, opening it and reaching inside. Smooth ceramic met her fingers. Round walls, and a handle. Almost unwilling to believe it, Kanade reached in and pulled out a mug. Not just any mug. Her mug. It had been repaired, thin gold veins spiraling across it where the pieces had fallen apart. She turned to look at Mafuyu, tears welling in her eyes despite her best efforts.

“You seemed… sad when the mug broke.” Mafuyu murmured, glancing at Kanade and noticing the tears in her eyes. “So I decided I’d try and get it fixed.”

Turning the mug over in her hands, Kanade could barely believe her eyes. She placed it down, turning and giving Mafuyu a hug. Unsure of how to react, Mafuyu slowly lowered her arms, enveloping Kanade in a warm hug. She smelled like apples, Kanade noted. Sweet. Warm.

“Thank you, Mafuyu.” She said gratefully, reaching up to wipe the tears from her eyes. “I…” She trailed off, unsure of what to say, but she had faith that Mafuyu would understand. Mafuyu lowered her chin onto Kanade’s head, inhaling the soft scent of flowers. She nodded, squeezing Kanade just a little tighter.

“I’m glad…”

I’m glad I could do something for you.

a fluff shot would be fun! :D there’s nothing specific , do whatever you want!

Gotcha! I’ll have it out for you in a little while (if time permits)

[gothicgaycowboy]

dirty little secret

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: you find Eddies actual secret stash.

Warnings: 18+ no minors, sub!Eddie, femdom!reader, afab reader, slight degradation, Eddie has a big ol’ praise kink, use of restraints, oral sex (m receiving), p in v penetration, brief orgasm denial, corny VHS porn, Eddie is a terrible liar, Eddie fearing rejection, friends to lovers.

A/N: I truly don't know why this took me so long to write but I hope you enjoy it!

Much like any other day Eddie invited you over to his place after getting kicked out of class for what seems like the 100th time this week. I’m telling you Mrs.Highsmith has it out for me! Or, maybe wearing a shirt with ‘avid sperm donor’ on it wasn’t your brightest idea to date. Whatever, it was funny! Do you wanna come to my place or not?

You were kinda on Eddies ass lately about graduating so you could finally fulfill your plans of moving out of this hick town together. This plan was supposed to be in motion two years ago when you were hoping to graduate together; I mean what was the point of moving if you were just gonna leave your best friend there to rot? So you decided to stay until the moment Eddie snatches his diploma.

You pulled up to Eddie's place, school wasn't out yet but you already knew where he hid the key. Making yourself at home was never hard here. On days off when you felt particularly bored you would spend entire school days there, just waiting for Eddie to get back. Watching TV, raiding the fridge, occasionally playing Eddie's precious guitar (you were the only other person Eddie allowed to  touch “her”). But today you felt like mixing it up a little.

Through all your 10 years of friendship you never once snooped through Eddie's things. Eddie on the other hand had done it to you many times. Nice thong princess. God Eddie you're stretching it! What, red isn’t my color? Can’t tell with your jeans on, now take it off please. My Jeans? Wow I didn’t know you were that desperate to see me naked sweetheart. The thong you moron!  Maybe you were afraid of what you could find, but after knowing Eddie for as long as you have, it would shock you if you found anything unexpected.

Starting off simple you went through the bathroom first. Nothing too interesting catches your eye off the bat, although you were impressed to see a separate bottle of shampoo and conditioner instead of the 3-in-1 bottle you were expecting. Unable to find anything else in the bathroom, you head to Eddie’s room.

As soon as you enter through the door frame, you're greeted with the familiar smell of weed covered by cheap cologne. The smell might have nauseated others, but it comforted you. It was most likely the element of nostalgia that made you immune to the scent. Most of the memories made between you and Eddie were in this very room. The first time you got high together, Eddie teaching you a few chords of his favorite song, being forced to watch some of the most grotesque horror movies you've ever seen, etc.

Scanning through the bedroom there was nothing popping out that you haven't seen before (you still don’t know where he got those police grade handcuffs from). First instincts told you to search the most basic hiding spots.

Back of the closet? nothing. Night stand drawer? nope. Sock drawer? nada, unless we're counting a few suspiciously crunchy socks.

This left you with one last place to check: under the bed.

You sunk down to lay on your stomach, lifting the blanket that covered the space between his bed frame and the floor. Due to the poor lighting in the room you thought there was nothing there, but after a few seconds of adjusting to the light you saw it. A whole Family Video right there under Eddie's bed.  

You scooped as many of the VHS tapes from under the bed as you could in one motion. Jesus it was a real collection. These weren't just your run-of-the-mil VHS tapes, oh no, no, it was porn. Each title more provocative than the last. You looked through them giggling like a schoolgirl while kicking your feet in the air.

Picking them up one by one and seeing the cheesy posters you started to notice a pattern. The women were always in a dominant position; standing over the men, pulling their hair, even wearing the occasional latex body suit and whip. Maybe Eddie was better at hiding things from you than you gave him credit for...

-

Eddie swore this was turning out to be the longest day of his life. Getting back the results of a failed chemistry test, no Hellfire club, the lecture he got for showing up to class late only be be kicked out of class seconds later-- what a colossal waste of his time.

Now was finally the time of day Eddie looked forward to: returning back to his humble abode and seeing you. There were few things in Eddie's life as consistent and reassuring as you. Every time he felt like a failure you were there to pick him back up and make sure he knew that flunking a few classes didn't make him any less worthy of respect. He would never understand why someone like you could put up with him but he was grateful.

Eddie practically ran out of his van to the front door, eager like a puppy awaiting the arrival of its owner. Bursting through the entrance he was worried when he didn't immediately see you sitting at your usual spot on the couch. Were you running late? No, you were punctual to events you weren't even invited to.

He called out your name. No reply.

He did it again, hoping you were just in the bathroom unable to hear him the first time.

“Yeah, in here,” you called back calmly.

Eddie let out a quick sigh of relief before walking over to his bedroom. Pushing the slightly opened door, its hinges release a horror movie like creak as finds himself paralyzed by fear. Here you were, standing in front of his bed, surrounded by a small mountain of porn and holding one in your hand with a knowing smirk plastered on your face. A title he is very familiar with: Bad Boys Get Punished.

God he didn't know what to do, he could barely think a cohesive thought. This was the most mortified he had ever been around you; not even the time you accidentally caught him getting out of the shower singing Cindy Lauper could have compared to how bare he felt in this moment. You had exposed his guilty pleasure.

“Hi Eddie,” he could hear from your tone you were holding back a river of giggles.

“H-hey,” his voice hoarse as he spoke. Eddie felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead.

You waltzed towards him slowly, as if you were afraid that moving too fast would scare him away.

There was something about this moment; despite the fact that he was scared shitless Eddie had the strange sense that he was becoming turned on. He wasn’t gonna stand here and pretend he never felt this way about you before. Of course he has. You occupied 80% of his thoughts and all his dirtier dreams. He never dared to make a move though, if you didn't feel the same way he did he couldn't stand to lose you over a simple crush. But when you looked at him the way you were right now it was really hard to care anymore.

“Why do you look so nervous Eddie?”

“I don’t know- I just have that type of face I guess...” could his voice stop quivering for five seconds?

“Does it maybe have something to do with the fact that I found your porn stash?” you cocked your head slightly.

“That's not mine!” Eddie found himself shouting defensively; smooth.

You huffed out a laugh at him, “It’s not?” You questioned while pushing the tape against his chest. “Then why is it under your bed?”

Think, think, you moron!

“It must be Uncle Wayne's- yep, that's his,” He nodded vigorously at his excuse.

Your eyes rolled at his obvious lie, shit. “Come off of it Eddie, you really expect me to believe sweet old Wayne hid kinky porn under your bed?”

Eddie looked down at the floor shaking his head, “Sorry, I panicked,”

“It's fine Eds, I’m just teasing you,” your hands fell from his chest, still holding the tape.

An awkward pause filled the room, the phrase deafening silence had never been more befitting to a moment in time.

“I actually noticed a little recurring theme in your collection Eddie,” This made Eddie’s head snap back up to face you. At this point he was convinced this had to be some sort of nightmare; that if he pinched himself hard enough he would wake up and laugh at the odd dream.

“W-what do you mean?” he stuttered.

“Just a little- let's call it unconventional, that all the women in these videos seem to be in the usual man’s position, ya know, dominant.” you said, beginning to move close enough that Eddie could feel every exhale you released against his neck.

“Oh yeah, that,” he brought his fist up to his mouth coughing to clear his throat, “It was all they had at the video store so I just got them, better those than nothing.”

“Are you trying to tell me, the adult video store had only female domination porn?”

“I know it's w-weird, right?” Eddie began nervously fidgeting with his short nails to distract himself from how close you were.

“Mhm...” You bit your lip as you hummed in doubtful agreement.

“So,” You backed up slightly, attempting to make direct eye contact with Eddie, “You don't like this kinda stuff?”

“Nope.” Eddie pursed his lips after the lie spilled from his mouth.

“Okay, so you wouldn't care if we watched it together?”

Eddie’s eyes must have popped out of his head with the force he shot them open at, “What?”

“Well I just figured if you don't actually enjoy this stuff it wouldn't bother you if we made fun of it together, like when we rent those bad movies from Family Video.”

Every excuse in the book was running through Eddies mind but before he had the chance to get one out his mouth worked faster than his brain (as per usual), “Um sure I guess that could be fun,”

He wanted to slam his head through a wall.

Your face instantly lit up with excitement, “Great! You make us some popcorn and I’ll pick the ‘movie’,”

Eddie was right, this was gonna be the longest day of his life.

-

He felt like his whole body was in autopilot mode. His memory from moving into the kitchen to making the popcorn was a vague blur; too caught up in his thoughts of how he let himself get into this situation.

You had to know this was torture to him, right? Eddie had done his fair share of teasing towards you but he didn't think he ever took it this far-- he didn't even rag on you about the vibrator he found in your room! He knew you weren't naïve enough to believe his lies about the tapes, but maybe you did just want to make fun of them, no ulterior motive...

Eddie had just finished spilling the last of the popcorn into the bowl when you announced from the couch that the movie was starting. Without even having to turn and look at the TV screen he recognized which movie you picked-- the intro music giving it away immediately: Mistress Mindy. It was one of Eddies most prized erotic possession, and you are going to make fun of it while he tries desperately not to get a boner.

Great.

“You coming Eds?” you questioned while patting the spot next to you on the sofa.

“Yeah, sorry,” he grabbed the large bowl of popcorn and slowly made his way the short distance from the kitchen to the living room; feeling his skin perspire more with every step closer.

Finally making it to the couch Eddie placed the bowl between your bodies, praying it would be even a slight buffer from your warm skin. He knew if he felt you against him while the tape was playing he would be done for.  How could he be expected to watch porn while sitting next to the person he thought of while he got off, and not get hard?

You briefly turned your face away from the TV, glancing at Eddie with the most sincere smile he had ever seen. God you’re so pretty.

The title sequence barely ended before you started cracking jokes: “How much money do you think she spends to look like knockoff Elvira?”

Eddie tries his best to play along, “Probably too much to look as cheap as she does,” but all he can think about is the amount of times he's imagined you in that exact outfit; from the latex bra all the way down to the ridiculously high heeled shoes.

The scene starts off with a couple panning shots of “Mindy's” body while metal plays, and as much as Eddie wants to look away already and save himself the humiliation, he can feel your gaze watching him just as much as the movie.

There is a quick fade into a new scene, your eyes are greeted by the sight of a lean man whose wrists and ankles are handcuffed to a board, completely nude.

“I don't think this is what the Christ lovers have in mind when they talk about crucifixion,” you laughed.

It took Eddie a moment to realize you were talking, too caught up in avoiding reliving the feelings he got when he watched the film prior, “Y-yeah no kidding...”

Mindy moves slowly into frame, taking her time and letting the flogger in hand drag behind her like a cat's tail; nothing but the man's frantic breathing and loud click of her heels fill the mostly concrete room. She finally reaches him, gliding her perfectly manicured red nails down his chest causing the man to shiver, “Are you ready to be a good boy for me?” she asks condescendingly. He simply nods and whimpers, clearly she’s not satisfied with his response. “I said,'’ she grabs his face, squeezing his cheeks tightly, “are you ready to be a good boy for me?” he moans weakly, “Yes mistress,”

This has officially set Eddie off. He frantically adjusts his jeans in hopes it will make his hard on less obvious but to no avail. If anything he just made it more obvious to you what was going on.

“You okay Eddie?“ he couldn’t tell if your concern was genuine or not.

Eddie found himself unable to form coherent words, “Mhm,”

“Are you sure?” you moved the popcorn onto the floor, crawling to fill the now empty space between Eddie and you, “Because it looks like you do enjoy these kinds of movies after all.” you pointed out smugly, the humiliation only making Eddie’s jeans tighter.

“Fine, I lied alright? I didn’t want you to know I liked this…stuff,” he gestured to the tv screen, “because I didn’t want you to judge me.” he looked down shamefully, shaking with nerves.

“Oh Eddie,” you pulled yourself onto his lap, which really didn’t help his whole boner situation, “I would never judge you. Besides, how do you know I don’t like this stuff too?”

For the fifth time tonight Eddie felt truly shocked, he moved his head back up to see if you were just pulling his leg again, “Do y-you like this stuff?”

“Do you trust me?”

Your reply made Eddie think he had accidentally asked you a completely different question that he couldn’t recall, still he answered honestly, “Of course, more than anyone.”

Smiling at his response, you grabbed his right hand, moving it down to the waistband of your pants. Eddie's heart had never pounded so hard in his life. Pushing his fingers past the band you let him feel the wet patch coating your underwear.

“Jesus,” Eddie gasped, he didn't think he could be any more attracted to you than he already was, but clearly he was wrong.

“Does that answer your question baby?” you whispered into his ear.

“I...think so,”

“Have you ever actually done this before?” you ask not to be cruel, but to gauge his experience with something you've thought about far more often than you would ever admit. 

“No, I tried to hint at wanting to try it out with people I’ve hooked up with but they thought it was weird and gross.” Eddie explained. 

“Would you wanna try it...with me?” your voice came out far less cocky than before, almost meek. 

“I thought you'd never ask,” he laughed, the stress that previously filled his body dissipating with your reassurance. 

Eddie quickly connected his lips to yours, pulling you closer to him in the process so you were chest to chest. There was no hesitation from you, lips interlocking as if it was a natural instinct. The kiss became more sloppy as it progressed quickly. Spit stringing from your mouths as moans leave your lips. God it was everything he ever dreamed about.

Eddie’s large hands began exploring your body, moving from your lower back to your clothed ass. Your hands clasped his, pulling them away from their current resting place. He whimpered as you broke the kiss, “Did I say you could touch me there?” you asked, there was no trace of teasing in your voice.

“No- I’m sorry, I didn’t thi-“ his voice was panicked and cracking as he spoke.

“But that’s the problem baby, you never think, do you?” you mocked.

“No…”

“So what if we put the pretty little head of yours to rest and I make your hands stay where I want them to, would you like that sweetie?”

A lightbulb went off in Eddie's mind realizing where you were going with this. His head shook in agreement.

“You know the rules, I need you to use your words with me,”

“Y-yes please,” he mumbled.

“Good boy,”

Eddie moaned at your words, who knew he could be so desperate.

You stood up off his lap and pulled Eddie to his feet; your hand reaching for his to migrate towards the bedroom. Entering the room you pushed Eddie down onto his mattress, an “oof” leaving his lungs. You turned to grab the handcuffs off the wall and Eddie could feel excited knots start to build in his stomach.

You looked back in Eddie's direction, “We should probably set up a safe word,” you suggested, “how about red?” 

“Okay,” he agreed.

“Put your hands up baby,”

Eddie lifted his arms above his head as instructed. You lifted your left leg over his chest adjusting to sit with your legs wrapped around his torso.

“Doing such a good job for me already,” you praised while clicking the handcuffs shut around his wrists. His cheeks heated at your words, he wanted to pinch himself just to make sure this wasn’t just another wonderful dream.

“Until I say otherwise, your hands will stay handcuffed above your head.” you trailed your hands up and down his chest as you spoke, “You will not touch me until I let you. Your job is to lay back and let me take care of you, can you do that for me?”

“Yes, fuck, please,” he whined. Whoever was out there in the universe looking out for him, Eddie was ready and willing to get down into his knees and kiss their ring for the rest of his life in gratitude.

“Already begging for me baby? You’re more desperate than I thought,” you chuckled lightheartedly.

“Always desperate for you,” Eddie was unsure of where this newfound confidence was coming from but from the look on your face you seemed to enjoy it.

“Yeah?” you teased, “You thought about doing this with me before?” you scooted down, getting closer to the obvious tent in his pants.

“Everyday,” your fingers were playing with the zipper on his ripped jeans. Now laying flat on your stomach with your head resting on Eddie’s upper thigh.

“Well,” you sigh seductively, “you don’t need to just dream about it anymore.” Finally, you unzipped him from his pants, his cock almost fully upright through his plaid boxers.

You thought men with porn-like proportions were one in a billion. Maybe a trick with lighting and cameras because there was no way these guys would be that big. But here Eddie was, laying in front of you to disprove all of your previous beliefs.

Your eyes widened with shock, “Jesus Eddie, how could you hide this from me?” Pulling off the final layer you saw it in all its glory.

“I-“ Eddie was cut off by the vulgar sound of you spitting into your hand, placing it around the tip of his cock. “Fuck!” he groaned as you began lightly stroking him. You certainly knew what you were doing, thumb coming up with each stroke to caress the slit on his tip.

“You like it when I play with you like this?” you asked as if the answer wasn't obvious.

“Yes, so much,” Eddie propped his head up higher on his pillow to get a better view of you.

“What about if I did this?” You leaned forward and began giving his shaft kitten licks, never breaking eye contact for even a second.

Eddie was at a loss for words, “Mmmh,” he banged his head back onto his pillow.

You moved on from licks to kissing your way from the base up to his tip, following the line of a vein on the underside. When you reached the tip you continue your torturous teasing by opening you mouth and sticking your tongue, lightly slapping his cock against the wet muscle.

“Fuck- you’re killin’ me baby,” Eddie’s voice is trembling as he speaks.

“Sorry, you just look so pretty when you squirm for me,” you explain, a grin on your lips as the words fall out of your mouth.

The visual of you smiling with his dick right next to your mouth is a sight Eddie will treasure for the rest of his days.

All thoughts left Eddie’s head as you slowly swallowed his cock down your throat. “Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie's voice cracked with every syllable. The obscene slurping noises filled the bedroom, ringing off the walls and back into Eddie’s ears making him overwhelmed.

You took joy in every second of it, a pridefulness making its way through you at making Eddie feel so good. Similar scenarios to this had crossed your mind when your hands were shoved between your thighs. You hadn’t even noticed your hips were now moving against the mattress below you, searching for friction.

Eddie hips gently bucked up to meet your mouth causing you to moan around his length. The vibrations went straight through him.

“’gonna come,” he warned.

With that you quickly pulled off Eddie’s cock.

“Hey, wha-“ Eddie was cut off by you.

“You’re not the one who decides when you come, remember?” Your voice dripping condescension only made Eddie harder (if that was even physically possible).

“M’sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay baby,” you cooed, “You’re doing so good for me,” you sat up to kiss his temple.

Sitting back on your heels you grabbed the hem of your shirt pulling it off and unclipping your bra.

“You’re so beautiful,”

You want to scoff and blame his words on the fact that you are topless but the soft look in his eyes tells you otherwise.

“Shut up,” your fingers grip his hair as you lay a wet kiss on his lips.

Removing your final layers of clothing you began pulling off Eddie’s clothes starting with his jeans. By the time you got to his shirt you realized you had made a grave mistake by handcuffing Eddie before taking off his shirt.

“Do you like this shirt?” you spoke while playing with the frayed collar of the Metallica top.

“No, not really it’s kinda old and has moth holes in it-“

With the vague permission he gave you, you ripped it from his chest, tearing it in half with a promise: “I’ll buy you a better one.”

In all its glory you had a full view of Eddie’s tattoos chest, his happy trail leading to his currently pulsating cock.

“That was really hot…” he admitted shyly.

“You haven’t seen hot yet baby,” with that you grabbed the condom from his bedside table, ripping open the wrapper and rolling it down his length.

“You ready for me, Eds?”

“Please, please, please,” Eddie begged, his brows raised in desperation, “I’ve been so good for you, please!” his eyes were so wet it almost looked like he was crying.

“I guess you’ve been a good boy for me…” you were now rubbing up against his cock teasingly.

“Yes, I’m your good boy, please,” he was babbling at this point.

“Okay, okay, I won’t torture you anymore I promise,” you lined him up with your entrance, sinking down into his tip.

“Ohmygod,” it all left Eddie in one breath.

slowly making your way down you moaned at the stretch, you’ve never felt this full before.

“Fuck you feel so good sweetie,” you praised him.

Your right palm rested on his peck while your left was making smooth circles on your clit. You began moving carefully so as to not overwhelm Eddie.

“Go faster please,” Eddie requested.

“You sure you're ready for that big boy?”

“Fuck me, I need you to,”

Eddie watched in awe as your tits started bouncing with your speed up pace. Your face scrunched in pleasure as Eddie’s cock hit that sweet spot inside you. “You’re so big Eddie,” it was your turn to whine.

“M don’t say that,” you could tell his vocal cords were strained from begging and moaning already. His knuckles were turning white as he squeezed his hands into fists.

“It’s true, you’re the biggest I’ve ever had, you stretch me out so well,” you started moving more frantically.

“Please, stop talking I’m gonna come too fast,”

“No you won’t,” you pushed yourself all the way down to the base of his cock, stopping your movements completely, “You’ll come when I say so and not a second sooner.” despite your cocky words you were still trying to catch your breath.

Eddie just whined in response.

Getting right back to it, you returned to your previous pace, You could already feel the warmth growing in your stomach. You had never felt so close to orgasm so soon, but it was only slightly humiliating. The thought that Eddie had this effect on you just egged you on more.

“You get to come when I do, okay? I wanna feel you come with me,” your hands grabbed at Eddie’s back, pulling him into an upright position. “And I want you to look at me when you do.”

Your walls squeezed Eddie tighter, both of you moaning at the sensation.

“Com’ere,” you instructed and of course Eddie obliged, his face moving closer to yours. His hands still made no contact with your body despite how desperately he craved it.

“Kiss me,” you didn’t need to tell him twice, his lips crashing against yours. The kiss was much softer than the sex you were having. Eddie did always know how to make you feel special.

Eddie’s lower abdomen rubbed against your clit causing you to whimper into his mouth.

“Are you close?” Eddie asked, fully out of breath.

“Mhm, that means you have to come too, can you do that for me?”

“Yes- shit,”

Your movements became sloppier, you couldn’t tell if the sounds of pure ecstasy that echoed off the walls was all your own doing, or the VHS that was still playing on the living room TV.

“M coming!” you gasped, the rubber band in your stomach finally snapping. Eddie’s moans and the feeling of his cock twitching inside your pussy was a good enough indicator that he followed you, but you could barely notice over your own pleasure.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” a mantra leaving his lips as he came down from his orgasm, still bucking up into you.

Your vision had gone completely black, too caught up in the ecstasy of it all: the orgasm, his body against yours, finally making a move on Eddie.

Eddie collapsed back onto the pillows, pulling you down with him. You stayed like this for a while, your head on Eddie’s chest, his in the wedge of your neck, slowly catching your breath.

“Shit,” you heard Eddie sigh.

“Couldn’t have said it more eloquently myself,” you joked making both of you huff out weak laughs.

“I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you I’d like to be more than friends,” Eddie confessed.

“Well good, because I’m not sure I could ever just see you as a friend after this,”

“Me either,”

Eddie lifted his chin from the crook of your neck to give your lips a gentle smooch; he suddenly pulled away from it, panicked.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” you questioned suddenly, anxious at Eddie’s clear fright.

“I probably should have told you sooner but, better late than never,” he let out a nervous laugh, “I don’t know where the keys to these handcuffs are…”

“Are you serious?!”

“And Uncle Wayne is gonna be home in…” he glanced at his watch, “about 15 minutes,” he chewed on his lower lips.

“Jesus Eddie! Well come on let’s look around. I don’t think your Uncle will believe us if we tell him we decided to do an impromptu magic trick,”

God, what were you gonna do with this boy?

[erodasfishtacos]

Crackin’ the Code

prompt: Harry and YN tie the knot in a beautiful castle off the coat of Italy. Harry reflects back on his life before his love. YN has past insecurities creep on on her before the wedding. 

note: this is the necklace that YN receives as (one) her wedding gifts from H and she wears it during the ceremony.

word count: 9k

warnings: smut

***<-- click for visuals throughout (super important for this one shot!)

if you enjoy this fic (which i worked REALLY hard on) please reblog, like, comment, and come talk to me!

please please considering donating to my kofi since all my work is FREE to you guys!

---

The world expected an extravagant wedding with week-long festivities, celebrations in destinations only the richest could afford, and all the big names of the business world who ran in his circle.

The media outlets were just waiting, quite impatiently, for the day that the richest man in Europe settled down with a significant other. They would have news stories for decades when it came to the couple.

Of course, Harry Styles was going to marry a household name - the public thought. 

Whether it be an heiress, a model, maybe even an actress? The choices for the most eligible bachelor were limitless.

Any time he was at an event, usually a charity gala or black-tie dinner, paparazzi would take candid pictures of him with any female and then the following day publish an article about how they were a couple.

However, what the world didn’t know was that he’s been in a relationship for a year and a half, has already been engaged after the eight month mark, and moved into pretty soon after but that was hushed.

Nearly no one except a few key employees and family members knew about the couple. Everyone in his office building in the heart of London had to sign NDA’s at the beginning of their job - though almost all of them didn’t know she existed.

Harry did not put any limits on YN for the wedding planning. 

No price, no expectations, nothing. If she wanted ten-thousand people or zero people in attendance that was her call. If she wanted to drop ten million dollars on a wedding or a hundred that was fine too.

The CEO never fantasized about a wedding. 

Well he had but no in the terms most do. He didn’t sit and imagine the venue, the food menu, or the decorations. 

No, he didn’t care about any of that, he daydreamed about the fact that he and someone would commit themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

Harry wanted to marry his fiance after their first date.

He was usually a very patient man, couldn’t have gotten where he was if he wasn’t. When it came to this, each day he wasn’t married to the love of his life felt like torture.

Since he proposed to her in his briefs in their bedroom, he had imagined her looking immaculate in whatever she chose to wear, exchanging vows of devotion, and then being tied together for life.

He never thought he would get here. He’d never felt a connection with someone like he had with the feisty waitress who bumped into him. Begin to believe that he was broken or lacking emotion because no matter how sweet the girl was he couldn’t see himself with the person.

Don’t get him wrong. 

He took many women out on dates that were downright awful. Asking him about money, suggesting he take them on expensive vacations or buy them a designer item, being too forward and palming his crotch in the middle of dinner.

One of the last dates he went on before he gave up was the one that made him stop looking all together, about six months before he ran in YN.

---

It was an expensive restaurant in the heart of London. It had a waitlist for months but one call and they could magically make an available booth for the billionaire within the hour. 

The girl he was sitting across from was a so-to-speak blind date. 

A set up by one of his business partners who stated that they would be a good match. Harry had rolled his eyes at that but couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to say ‘no.’

Her name was Aria, she had a respectable job at a local law firm as an assistant to a very well-known lawyer in the area. 

She was beautiful in the way of looking just like an instagram model with long dark extensions, false eyelashes that made it hard to determine what color her eyes were, and an outfit that made Harry a bit embarrassed to be seen with her - short and low cut at a five-star restaurant.

“Yeah, I just got back from Mallorca with a group of friends,” She tells him, flipping through the photo album on her phone to show him pictures. 

When she ‘accidentally’ swipes (and slowly swipes) again so that Harry definitely gets a glimpse of a nude selfie.

Harry internally groans, couldn’t be less turned on by that, and doesn’t acknowledge it - much to Aria's disappointment. 

She was fishing for a compliment, maybe a request for him to take the phone and look closer at the picture like most men would.

Instead he sits back, takes a sip of his wine, and nods curtly, “It looks like you had a good time.”

She stumbles for a second, confused by his sudden standoffishness, and clicks her phone locked before putting it next to her on the table, “Did I offend you?”

He was already done with the date, with the dating scene, with fucking everything honestly. 

What a goddamn waste of a night.

Harry barks out a cruel laugh, “It takes a lot more to offend me than a picture of y’tits but it’s a bit offensive that y’think so little of yourself that you think that’s how y’going to impress me. Those tits didn’t impress me much, darling.”

Aria’s eyes narrow in blatant disbelief at how much of an asshole he was being. 

Granted, she did feel a bit of embarrassment creeping up in her stomach about thinking showing him that picture was a good idea but still, he didn’t need to react like that.

“It really makes sense why you don’t have a girlfriend, it’s because of what an asshole you are,” The girl sneers with venom as she tucks her phone into her clutch, swigging down the last drops of the expensive wine.

He shrugs like he’s unbothered, a nasty feeling quilling in the pit of his stomach as he keeps an outward expression of nonchalance and ease, it make the raven-haired woman even more furious as he replies cooly, “I’m not being an asshole, honesty hurts sometimes. Maybe if you think the way you attract someone is by nude pictures, you should try Tinder or Bumble.”

“I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have,” Aria tells him before pushing out her chair and leaving before the main course even arrives. 

Harry sits there for a moment, swallowing and pleading with himself to not let the nasty words set in because they felt too real and too personal - she had actually struck some type of chord within and it had his stomach churning.

When he pays the bill, apologizing profusely for leaving dinner before the entree arrives but with an excuse of a company emergency - it’s eerily quiet in his car as he drives home to his massive home with no one in it.

It doesn’t happen often. 

He should call his mum, Gemma, Dorothy even to talk it out but he feels so fucking alone because he can’t get it right. He can’t connect with anyone and it is starting to feel hopeless.

He is angry, so angry at himself, that he can’t shake the feeling of it and he feels like he’s losing control because he never fucking talks about his emotions.

A beautiful set of dishware was sitting out his dining room table, the housekeeper had carefully unwrapped them earlier in the day. 

They were imported from Beijing, decorated with real gold, and handcrafted. It had cost him nearly forty-thousand dollars for a set of fucking plates and bowls.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

It is repeatedly on a loop in his head, glares at the items on the dinner table like they’re mocking him, and he has no wits about himself before he’s taking one of the beautiful bowls and throwing it against the wall as hard as possible.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

By the time he’s done, his chest is heaving, and his face is red. 

When reality starts to set back in, every single item from the set is destroyed on the floor, the wall’s paint chipped from where he’d hurled them.

He was so fucked up.

-

Harry couldn’t help but relieve the feelings of that nasty flashback. He couldn’t believe that he had been at that point in his life - not when he had the most all-consuming, amazing in every single way woman laying next to him in his bed.

YN had shown Harry that he had never been broken, he had just been waiting. 

She was his soulmate and he had been waiting for her since forever. He truly believed that as he looked at the girl next to him with enough emotion his heart might burst.

She was just...everything.

YN was so fucking funny - the funniest person Harry had ever met. She was loving in a way that made you feel like you belonged. Compassionate in a way that makes you want to be more selfless yourself. Intelligent enough that it was breathtaking and unreal - and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

She was uncaring of who Harry was - in the most perfect way. 

Money wasn’t a personality trait that she defined him with. She loved him for who he was at the bare basics, stripped away from his public life.

She was confident in a way that girls rarely were. 

Bared face and more beautiful than the highest-paid models. 

Her body was her own, embracing every curve and inch of it without any shame. Let herself be authentic in front of Harry which made him feel like he had won a secret lottery.

Right now, she was fast asleep next to him in bed after stuffing herself full of oreos that she was dunking in milk. She ignored Harry’s looks of disgust at the soggy cookies and munched away happily which made him happy in turn.

She still had a dark crumb on the corner of her puffy lips, her mouth parted just the slightest amount, and her face smushed halfway into the pillow. 

The shirt she had on was so oversized she was swimming in it and a pair of soft pink cheeky underwear.

Currently, she was the farthest thing from graceful and Harry loved that so fucking much. 

As they lay mere days away from their wedding, remembering that nasty flashback, he can’t help but remember their first date and how he had known from them that he had finally found a spark, a connection to another human being.

--

Harry cannot remember the last time he had been nervous. 

Maybe back in his teenage years? If that. 

It was an unsettling feeling that was currently pooling in the pit of his stomach as he changed his outfit for the third time before finally being somewhat satisfied with the suit he had picked out - tighter black jeans, black button-up, black blazer - couldn’t go wrong there. ***

YN had texted him asking what she should wear for their first date when Harry told her he was going to keep it simple and take her to a restaurant.

He had to dress nice, it was an expensive restaurant that he had not taken any other dates to before, it was right outside of London - going towards the countryside with a beautiful view of a meadow and stream.

When he had arrived in front of her apartment, well he had never been on this side of town, and it quite frankly looked like the roof of her building was about to collapse at any minute. It was rough to say the least.

Harry had picked out a car he thought would impress her. He remembered her saying the doors of his Lamborghini were stupid so he picked a car with normal doors this time. It was his new Audi Quattro that had cost him upwards of 170,000 pounds. ***

YN had popped out of the front door, her face didn’t read impressed when she saw the car like he had hoped. It was interesting before YN, he did not care whether or not his dates were impressed by him - now he craved it.

She looked extraordinary in a form fitting silky black dress that hugged every single curve of her body perfectly while accentuating them at the same time. Minimal makeup, loose waves, and simple high heels - it was like a dream that he was taking this girl out on a date. ***

When she slips into the passenger seat, the smell of her floral yet cinnamon perfume makes the car smell heavenly, she looks over at him and says, “You didn’t even come open the door for me. We’re off to a bad start, Harry.”

His heart sinks, fuck - he had been blindsided by her beauty that he wasn’t even being a proper gentleman, “M’so sorry, I wa-”

She chirps out a tender laugh, patting his arm, “You’re face, oh my god. I was just fucking with you.”

Harry’s frown turns into a pout, “S’not nice, pet.”

YN shrugs before a bit self-consciously adjusting the fabric around her midsection, “Erm, I hope this outfit is nice enough? It’s really the only semi-decent thing I own.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’look absolutely stunning. I can’t even believe y’real to be honest, so fuckin’ pretty.”

YN gives him a shy, unsure smile but he can tell she’s preening at the compliment internally (which she totally is).

The restaurant is one of the nicest in England, let alone London. 

There wasn’t even a menu, they just served eight courses over a few hours time by servers in suits with bowties on. 

YN had never felt more out of place.

As they sat down, Harry was proud that he was able to show off his abilities for a good date, YN was looking around nervously before looking up at the server and saying, “We didn’t get menus yet.”

The man gives her a humorous expression before telling her, “We don’t do menus here, miss. Your date is a regular, I am sure he can fill you in. However, we are starting off with a Cabernet from 2001 imported from Napa, California.”

As he pours the wine into their sparkling glasses, she asks unknowingly, “I don’t really like wine. Is there any way I could get a Coke?”

Harry frowns when the server laughs meanly at her, “Ma’am this isn’t McDonald’s. We do not carry soda. I can provide you with water, if you so wish.”

Harry can’t help but snap at the waiter, “Oi, she’s never been here before. Lay off with the attitude alright?”

“My apologies, Mr. Styles,” He murmurs obediently before finishing the pouring off the whine and retreating from the table.

YN is trying to hide how uncomfortable she is but it is still obvious with how she fidgets in her seat, doesn’t quite know what to do with her hands as she doesn’t even bother to reach towards the wine glass.

“This isn’t really your scene, is it?” Harry murmurs, embarrassment with his failure to impress her with an expensive car and dinner. 

It was falling flat and it was the only thing he knew how to do - flaunt his wealth, everyone else had always been impressed.

“No, it isn’t,” She agrees quietly, fingers folding the edges of the cloth napkin to keep her anxiousness directed somewhere, “I appreciate this, er, dinner. I thought we were going to go somewhere like Mary’s.”

Mary’s was a restaurant that was considered ‘nice’ to the commoners in the city. It was a bit more expensive than a pub and the attire was a bit fancier than if you were going out to a bar. 

For someone like Harry, that was not considered a fancy restaurant. 

However, YN was not him and this was not something that she had ever been accustomed to. He now definitely felt like an idiot.

It’s made even worse when a massive plate is put in front of each of them. 

The plate is huge but the dish is merely one scallop with a lemon sauce and sprinkle of parsley on top. YN can’t even try to hide her confusion at the food.

 “I’ve mucked this date up,” Harry sighs, nearly thirty minutes into the actual date. 

YN had taken a small bite of the scallop before setting down her fork and not touching it again - it tasted like dirty feet. Did rich people like that taste?

She decides not to answer directly, “I already know you have money. It doesn’t ‘wow’ me. I was hoping for a fun date, this is….nice but quite truthfully, not for me. I prefer a pub or bowling - this feels more like a business meeting.”

Harry usually doesn’t have dates that are this honest with him. 

He feels embarrassed but he really did appreciate her honesty. He should have known to do something different than this but he was comfortable with his normal pattern.

“Can we get out of here?” YN asks, placing the napkin back on the table and gathering up her small purse to swing over her shoulder.

He feels defeated as he nods, paying for the meal in full as he accepts that he’s fucked up the date beyond repair by being an arrogant, ignorant asshole who doesn’t truly know how to talk to a girl he likes.

It’s quiet as he starts the car and pulls back onto the road, he startles a bit when YN points to a glowing sign of a golden arch and demands, “Go there.”

With a bit of confusion, Harry pulls into the McDonald’s parking lot and then to the drive-thru as she motions for him to do so. 

God, he hasn’t been to a fast food joint in years now if he was being honest.

When they pull up to the screen, YN leans across and shoots out their food order with ease before sitting back with a smug smile, “We’re going to have a date my way.”

Harry sighs with relief when he realizes the date isn’t over - but really just beginning. They sit and chat in the parking lot. He is thoroughly impressed when YN manages a box of nuggets, a fry, and a milkshake without shame.

Not like she should be shameful - just usually on dates women were hesitant to actually eat and instead picked carefully at their food instead. Their conversation in the car is bright, at some points deep and meaningful, but refreshing. It made him feel young again.

After they finished eating, she’s ordering him to drive a bit further out into the country where he can’t help but make the joke, “Are y’taking me somewhere to kill me?” YN smiles happily with a wide grin, “You’ll just have to wait to see.”

It ends up being a lake. A beautiful body of water that was surrounded by trees that were being reflected into the ripples with the light of the moon. The only sounds were of crickets chirping and the light lapping of the water against the small shore. ***

“I used to come here a lot in the summer in high school,” YN murmurs as Harry takes in the scenery of everything. It had been so long since he had appreciated nature - not the bright clear waters in the tropics but something like this.

“S’beautiful,” Harry replies, can’t help but observe this girl he’s infatuated beauty in the moonlight. 

Her skin looks like it’s glowing, the moon sparkling off the twinkle of her iries, and she just looked...ethereal. Like she belonged in the beauty of the wilderness.

He couldn’t believe his eyes - had to blink harshly a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it when she pulls the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders and shimmy the garment down her body until she’s left in a delicate lace bra and cheeky pair of underwear.

Harry, always the gentleman, keeps his eyes (with effort) on her face. Unsure of what is going on in her mind before she turns around with a little run and dives headfirst into the deep waters before popping back up and giggling, “Jump in!”

She’s just so...carefree, adventurous. Harry hadn’t felt free in fucking years.

It has him shucking out of all of his clothing, just down to his tight black briefs before he’s diving in, right next to her, and feeling around. He wraps his hand around her ankle to teasingly tug her under with him before they both surface.

As they wad in the water, YN swims over to him, and wraps her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Her soaking wet hair was dripping and he was breathing heavy, feeling his ribcage expand against her soft tummy.

She murmurs quietly over the light lapping over the water, “You haven’t even looked at me once.”

Harry swallows, feeling like a schoolboy again, “I...I didn’t want to without permission.”

“I want you to look at me,” YN replies, letting her nose nudge his and her eyes searching into his nervous ones. 

He nods, closing his eyes when he feels her lips brush his, letting his large palms grip at her sides and pull her closer to his chest. Their lips not breaking when his hands begin to explore the intricate, plush curves of her body.

They don’t do anything else, don’t go any further but he groaning when she traces her fingertips down his muscular, defined abs and thumb rubbing over the trail of light hair leading into his briefs.

After a swim, filled with splashing and dunking, they retired to lay in the grass. Both of their backs, looking up at the clear night sky, moon full and stars glittering against the stark darkness that surrounds it.

YN wriggle until she’s tucked into his side, hand running up and down his chest, as she says, “I’m sorry your date didn’t go as planned. I ruined it.”

“Y’didn’t ruin anything. I...I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” Harry admits as he gives off an embarrassed laugh, “I..I’m a little bit scared, to be honest.”

“Scared? Of what?” YN asks, lips pressing against a tattoo on his bare shoulder.

“Because I already am falling for you,” Harry utters, heart racing and his eyes glued upwards and pointedly not wanting to see her interaction.

“That’s a relief.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “A relief?”

“Yeah, I would say. I’m falling too,” YN whispers before leaning up to connect their lips once more as the moon rises further in the sky and the crickets sing a little louder. They lay like that for a very long time.

Harry went home that night for the first time not feeling the empty weight of his loneliness, instead he feel asleep imagining the beautiful, spontaneous girl next to him in his bed.

--

It wasn’t going to be the wedding everyone expected for The Harry Styles. **

There was not many invites set out for this event. It wasn’t the wedding of the century or the most expensive wedding of the decade.

Harry would have let his wife-to-be have this day however she wanted without complaint but could say he was very happy that it was going to a be a low-key event. It was going to be some of YN’s family, though she didn’t have much, and Harry’s extended family. No one from work or business. Just family.

They had just gotten finished with the rehearsal dinner, the couple being ordered to separate rooms for the final night before they were married. It was tradition. 

Harry had walked YN to her hotel room, they were staying at the venue, and pressed her up against the door. His hand coming to weave into her meticulously curled hair and cupping the back of her head, bring her mouth to his.

He wastes no time in letting his tongue find hers, hips coming to press her further back against the aged wood, and his teeth nipping roughly at her plump bottom lip, “Baby, y’gonna be m’wife tomorrow.”

YN’s eyes twinkle up at him like they did during their first date, “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

His fiance laughs kindly as he gets a bit watery eyed, her thumb coming to swipe under his eye, she jokes, “Are you regretting proposing now?”

“Just never knew I could be this happy,” He murmurs against her lips, can’t help but reach around to grip a generous amount of her backside and pulling her flush against him where he’s hardening quickly.

“Mm, down boy. You don’t get the goods until tomorrow,” YN scolds, hand wrapping around his wrist and squeaking when he squeezes harder to get the point across - how much he wants her, all the fucking time.

“Want it now, pet,” Harry whines lowly, grinding his hips forward into her, “Give it t’me, y’mouth, y’cun-”

“Alright lovebirds! Separate now!” Gemma barks to interrupt with the laughter of their childhood friend Chloe.

They pull Harry by the back of the shirt and push him forward towards his room, Gemma smiles back at YN, “Make him put a ring on it before you give it to him!”

“Gem!” Harry scolds with a whine, giving his fiance puppy dog eyes and a pouted bottom lip, “Baby, don’t let them take me!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you!” YN shouts back, waving and smiling to herself as she opens up the door to her room and then locking it after she steps in. It feels weird being in a hotel room without him but she was a bit sweaty and her nerves were wiry so she decided a nice bath would be a good idea.

-

It’s past two in the morning and she was no less ready to find sleep. The worries of whether everything will be set up properly, if she’ll stutter during her vows, there were just so many things that could go wrong.

Life didn’t even seem real at this moment. 

She was marrying her husband at an amazing castle on the coast of italy with family to surround them in love. She had the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect partner. ***

She had never had it easy. Never thought she would deserve something like this. Harry had made her feel worthy of all this, they deserved to have a happy ever after. 

When it hits three in the morning, she can’t stand the quiet of the italian countryside anymore, and is swinging her legs over the bed. She pockets the keycard Harry gave her earlier in the day in her cotton shorts before sneaking out of her room.

After she taps the card to the sensor, the large oak doorknob clicks, she slips in and closes the door as silently as possible. YN steps in to the room, Harry's asleep in his bed on his stomach, face smushed into the pillow.

Harry’s facial expression and body language while he was awake was so severe, serious, intimidating. In sleep, his face was lax and his limbs loose. He looked more boyish when he was dreaming.

YN’s heart aches at how much she loves him, pulling the covers up, and crawling under them until she’s jostling him unintentionally, waking him from his light sleep with a mumble, “Baby, y’okay? Wha’s wrong? Y’alright?”

She giggles at his dazy panic, “I just missed you.”

“Mmm,” Harry agrees, pulling her all the way down and rolling on top of her, “Missed y’more.”

“You’re like a toaster!” YN squeals as he’s encompasses her, laying on her with his weight. His lips finding her pulse point and gently sucking. He was barely awake and he still couldn’t stop himself from her finding comfort in her body.

“I’m warmin’ y’up,” Harry growls against her neck before giving her a lick which has her giggling even more and pushing him off until he falls on his back and she’s swing her legs over his waist, straddling him.

“Y’breakin’ the tradition, m’heart.”

YN shrugs, humming while he palms at her belly, and she (much to his disappointment) ignores where he’s hard and waiting for her.

“I want t’sleep with you,” She pleas sheepishly, leaning all the way over to connect their lips in a quickie peck before she’s moving off of him and into his side.

“Never say no to you, y’know that, dovie,” Harry replies as if it’s obvious (it is).

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” YN whispers into the dark, like it’s a secret just between the two.

Harry nuzzles his nose against her temple, “Never wanted anythin’ more than I want you.”

YN can’t help but sniffle softly, overwhelmed with emotion and love, “You’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

“You saved me. You saved me from myself, from where I was going. You gave me hope, feeling again. Y’are m’heart, it fuckin’ beats for you.”

It may not be tradition but YN wouldn’t of had it any other way, sleeping in a magnificent castle on the ethereal coast of Italy in a classic hotel room, and the excitement of their wedding rumbling in both of their stomachs.

--

“You sneaky bastards!” Bethany screeches, door flinging open with Gemma in tow as they intrude into Harry’s room - finding the couple curled up under the covers with Harry spooning YN with his face tucked into her hair.

“Fuck off,” Harry groans, pulling his fiance closer into his chest as she wriggles awake and whimpers lowly, “Mornin’ lovie.”

“Out out!” Gemma shoos, pulling the covers off of them and the sisters showing no mercy while they yank YN out of the bed and titter about how she needs to start getting ready, no time for cuddles, breaking traditions.

“Bring her back!” He whines childishly, hurling a pillow at his sister’s retreating back as they guide YN back to her own room.

“You’ll see her in a few hours!” Gemma shouts back before slamming the hotel room door and leaving Harry to doze off for just a few more minutes.

-

Hair and makeup went fast. 

It was getting closer and closer to actually walking down the aisle towards her soon-to-be life partner and she’s never felt more nervous.

Rosemary and Bethany were all rushing around - attempting to get ready in the midst of getting the bride ready.

YN didn’t want to look like a doll or have any intense makeup. It was a soft champagne smokey eye with dewy skin and a glowing highlight. A nice lip with a bit of glittering gloss.

Her hair was in big, loose curls that cascaded down her back with the front pulled off of her face. A real white flower holding it back.

Then it was the dress. She was anxious about whether Harry would like it or not. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to wear - a massive ball gown, a form-fitting mermaid, or something less over-the-top?

It was a show-stopper that had her memorized when she had first seen it - could automatically imagined herself getting married in Italy with this on her body.

It was also one of the only times she didn’t even care about the price tag - she knew this was it. Yes, it was absurd to spend fifty thousand pounds on a dress but it was the one time she took advantage of Harry’s wealth.

It was flowy, reminding her of the soft waves that lapped at the coast of the italian beaches. It was sophisticated, classy with a sharp starch white that billowed into a dreamlike beauty.

What had made her fall in love was the sheer, detailed sleeves that gave the dress more of a vintage, glamour appearance than the modern tight-fit, overly sexy gowns that most brides wore nowawadays. ***

The train was long and sleek. It would trail beautifully down the aisle before being bustled for the reception. It made her feel confident in a way that an item of clothing next had made her feel before.

“Your tits look amazing,” Bethany compliments before giggling when their grandmum pinches her arm for her crude language.

YN couldn’t find it in her to laugh. She felt like her voice was stuck in her throat and it wasn’t moving. 

It started to feel real.

The fact that Harry had proposed, had planned a wedding with her, that he was agreeing to marrying her today.

It was starting to scare her - no, not cold feet but anxiety that he would realize that he could do better than the lowly waitress.

Now, on a normal day, she wouldn’t be having these irrational thoughts. Today was different and it felt too good to be true.

Rosemary and Bethany sense the tension in the room, rub her shoulders, and respect her wishes when she asked for a moment alone.

YN debates picking up her phone, knowing he was busy with his bigger side of the family in the groom’s suite.

She finds herself picking up her mobile, dialing his number, and waiting with bated breath for his syrupy, warm voice to pour through the speaker.

“Everythin’ okay?” He answers, she can hear Anne and Gemma tittering about in the background, yelling at him to get a move on.

“I’m scared,” YN whispers, she holds back her tears because the last thing she wanted to do was ruin her meticulous makeup.

“Leavin’ me at the altar?” Harry jokes lowly, stepping away from prying ears.

YN giggles at his teasing tone, “Never. I…I feel like this is all too good to be true. Like it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up.”

Harry huffs, “Sweetheart. Y’my soulmate, if y’wake up - I’m right there with you, okay? God, if anyone is dreamin’ it’s me. I get t’marry the most beautiful, intelligent -“

Gemma’s voice interrupts him, “You already seduced her into marrying you! We don’t have time for this sweet talk!”

The line goes dead but YN feels much better now.

—

Rosemary was going to be the one walking her down the aisle to her new husband. It didn’t feel right to have anyone else do it as she was the one who raised her into the strong, independent woman she was today.

YN knew she wanted to have an outside wedding. 

What would be more perfect than a cool evening in Italy? It was what she had dreamed about since she was little without the idea that it would ever happen.

The weather was absolutely perfect. There was a slight warm breeze that would keep the guests from being overheated, the sun was peeking in and out of vibrant white clouds that complimented the blue sky.

She knew exactly where Harry would be standing. 

Underneath a beautiful, dated archway with intricate designs about. 

The old material had lovingly grown luscious ivy that kissed the walls in a swirling, natural design. 

YN would never forget how beautiful that ivy had looked on her wedding day, encompassing the magnificent that was her soon-to-be husband.***

The venue was open, airy but still gave off an intimacy. There weren't many rows of chairs because not many were invited to share in such an ethereal experience where soulmates have found each other and were announcing their commitment to the world.

“Are you ready, my daughter?” Her grandmother had asked quietly as they lined up behind the expansive, old brick wall that hides them from the rest of the ceremony and crowd. She could hear the whispering as people took their seats.

YN nods, her vocal cords refusing to cooperate as she imagines Harry just as nervous on the opposite side with his family. 

When the twinkling, traditional music begins from the small orchestra off to the side - the realization hits her - it is actually happening, right now.

Bethany puts her bouquet in front of her, giving one last meaningful smile at her sister before she takes her cue to turn the corner and begins her walk down the aisle. 

It meant Harry was up there, watching as she was about to appear.

Then the orchestra’s melody became louder, more grand in the signaling for the guests to stand and turned toward the back of the room - awaiting the bride’s entrance to the ceremony. 

Rosemary takes the initiative to hook their arms and guide her past the wall.

YN clutches onto her own flowers as if it’s her lifeline. ***

Every fear, insecurity, moment of self-doubt dissipates when her eyes connect to Harry’s. There is no longer a doubt in her mind that she wasn’t enough. It was a deep, unbreakable stare as Harry’s mouth parts in a gasp of awe.

He was in a suit that was undeniably him. It displayed how fucking regal he was, how it looked like he was handcrafted into the italian design, how it fit him just perfectly.

It wasn’t a normal tuxedo. It was a perfectly tailored, custom (of course) Gucci suit that excentuate his broad shoulders and the nip of his narrow hips *** ***. 

YN can’t even hear the noise of the guests - whispering about how beautiful she looks.

All she can see is her future husband, who swallows harshly as an unexpected sob wracks through his chest at the sight of his bride.

The guests can’t help but look with wide eyes as the man they know - who they’ve barely ever seen smile, let alone cry, cannot control his emotions.

Gemma, who was his ‘best man’ which they deemed ‘best woman’, rubs his back soothingly with a watery smile herself at seeing her brother so estastatic as he looks at the woman of his dreams.

Harry rubs his eyes before meeting hers again.

YN is holding back her own tears as she reaches the end of the aisle.

In tradition as old as time, Harry steps forward and Rosemary passes her hand over to him in a signal that she trusts him to take care of the girl she’s spent meticulous time raising and cultivating into the person she is today.

“I trust you to take care of my girl, she is now yours,” Rosemary tells Harry, her tone is calm and full of emotion as she allows Harry to lean over to kiss her cheek softly.

Harry nods, his usually stable voice shaky as he replies, “I promise, I’ll take care of her until the day I die.”

Rosemary nods before patting his cheek and finding her seat in the audience.

When they are finally standing face-to-face, YN reaches over to thumb off a stray tear that was sliding down his cheek before he turns his head to kiss her thumb then kissing her palm. 

Harry didn’t even acknowledge that there was anyone else watching - it was just him and her.

“Y’look breathtaking, can’t believe y’mine,” Harry murmurs trembling, his chest moving faster than usual and it felt like it was nearly impossible for him to catch his breath as he looked at the woman in front of him.

When it comes to the vows, Bethany hands over her small piece of paper that she had scribbled onto and scratched out multiple times - never quite able to get the wording just right and she says just that.

“I couldn’t find the right words to explain my love for you,” She starts, voice raspy as she looks up to see Harry watching her raptly, eyes intense and only focused on her.

“And maybe there aren’t even words to explain it because nothing felt like enough. It is how I feel a lot of the time with you. I’ll never have enough of you because you’re all-consuming to me. I have never felt happiness like I have with you.”

YN is trying to stifle her tears as she continues, Harry reaches out to rub her arm in reassurance then he lightly brushes over the new necklace he had gifted her, “You’re by far the most complex, closed-off person I have ever met. I feel like you’ve allowed me to crack the code and once I did, I wasn’t disappointed. I’ve cracked my own code, you see.”

“The code to explaining my feelings for you will come with my dedication, love, loyalty to be your wife for the rest of our lives.”

Harry can’t help what he does next despite it not falling in line at the ceremony.

His hands come up to cup her jaw and he sears his lips to hers, kissing her with all the passion and emotion he cannot seem to keep in any longer. It’s too much, has to show her in that moment how much he loves her.

A few of his uncles whistle from the crowd as their wives smack their chests in warning.

YN giggles, returning the kiss before pushing him off. 

The look in his eyes is one she knows extremely well - it sends shivers down her spine and makes her hair stand on end -, the stare down of lust and want.

“Mr. Styles,” The officiant redirects, nodding towards the piece of paper he has in his hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry mumbles, unraveling the wrinkled notecard he had tucked in his inner suit pocket.

“I knew I was in love with you the moment you spilled that drink on me and undressed me in that dodgy employee bathroom,” Harry says with full sincerity, smirking at YN’s blush when he brings up the way they met.

“I tried to talk myself out of it. It was impossible to fall in love in mere minutes of meeting someone but it was the truth. I knew after our first date that I wanted y’to be m’wife. I knew after the second that I wanted y’to be the mother of my babies one day. And by the third date, I was planning on buying you a ring.”

“It sounds insane because it is. I’ve never been an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, hopeful person before you. You made me throw all that out of the window, you make me feel alive, and when I tell you that you saved me. You saved me, m’love.”

“There is a lot of uncertainty in this world but I can tell you one thing that is absolutely fuckin’ certain -”

“Harry,” YN hisses with an eye-roll at his crude language.

“The one thing that is absolutely certain in this world is that I will always love you, always take care of you, and always do everythin’ in m’power to make you happy.”

The guests in the chairs are quite speechless. 

They’d never heard such passionate, meaningful vows from a couple. 

This was not what they were expecting of Harry who had never once put his heart on his sleeve and right now he’d laid it all out on the table.

--

“YN LN, do you agree to take Harry Edward Styles as your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant asks, voice ringing against the walls of the castle.

YN has to take a big breath before she replies in a strong, firm voice as her eyes bore into Harry’s, “I do.”

“Harry Edward Styles, do you agree to take YN MN LN as your wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant repeats.

Harry, in ever typical fashion, in his loud, booming voice replies, “Of course I fuckin’ do.”

The guests in the audience laugh lightly as the officiant states, “I now announce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. You may now kiss your bride.”

It doesn’t take more than a second for Harry to step forward, grip her face and pull her in for a kiss, it doesn’t matter that their family is there to him as he licks into her mouth which is bordering on obscene before YN brings it back to a softer, more appropriate one.

He whispers against his lips, barely audible, “Can’t believe y’my fucking wife, m’fucking heart.”

--

As people are moving towards the reception area, Harry manages to find a secluded area of the outside gardens where there is no one in sight.

“Baby, baby, y’married me,” Harry is nearly chanting, like he’s in disbelief, at the same time he’s cornering his new bride up against the brick wall with his mouth trailing sloppy wet kisses down her shoulder.

“Mmm, it was everything I ever imagined, it was so beautiful. Everything I had imagined for our day,” YN replies blissfully, hands running carefully through his meticulously styled hair.

When he bends down and lifts up the bottom of her dress, she giggles when he ducks his head underneath all the tulle and fabric, finding a very skimpy pair of white lace panties that are supposed to be saved for later.

“Harry,” YN scolds half-heartedly, it would only take one person to find them in this undeniable inappropriate situation but she willingly let him push her further against the brick and take one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Baby, these fuckin’ panties,” He groans, muffled by the barrier of the heavy fabric, and she hisses when pulls them down to the thick of her thighs and his mouths finds her center within moments.

“Fu-fuck,” She hisses, trying to keep her moans down as he wastes no time in pushing in two thick fingers to curve towards her front as his tongue laps quickly and sloppily on her clit until it feels like she’s about to explode.

“S’right, fuckin’ m’cunt. I have it f’the rest of my life, found the best one,” Harry mutters against her wet skin, almost to himself like he can’t even believe the words, before he’s back to speeding up his fingers to match the rhythm of his mouth until she’s quivering for a whole other reason now.

It takes a few minutes for Harry to calm himself down enough to be able to go into the reception, he tells YN that he can’t even look at her right now because if he does he’ll be perpetually hard throughout the whole thing.

--

The reception is more of a dinner than a party. 

Fairy lights strung above the two long tables where decadent, mouth-watering food was served with the orchestra playing light, melodic music in the background. ***

It was perfect. 

Their family drank, laughed, ate, and were merry. 

Everyone was basking in each other’s company, congratulating the new couple, and enjoying all the beauty that was surrounding them at the castle. 

There is not much more to say than that. 

--

The honeymoon suite was located on one of the highest floors of the castle, away from all of the other wedding guests and staff.

YN was sure it was beautiful but from the moment she was carried over the threshold, she didn’t see anything but her new husband - he was blinding in his beauty. His skin was glowing, a slight sheen of sweat from the reception, and the still warm bite in the breeze. ***

“Sweetheart, baby. Please let m’undress you, y’my wife,” Harry pleas softly, his hands are everywhere - her face, her shoulders, hips - continuously wandering as if it’s impossible to find one place to settle.

“Please, c’mon. I need you, H,” She agrees, letting him take down the zipper on the side of her gown.

The expensive garment discarded on the floor in a pool of fabric as he fully takes in her lingerie set. ***

“Fuck me, darlin’,” Harry chuckles in amazement, fingertips tracing over the delicate lace that was stitched by Alessandro Michele himself for the bride, "Y’body is a god damn dream, look at you. - fuck.”

“Please,” His wife whimpers, voice desperate as his light and careful touches are no longer enough. 

She needs him close, she needs her husband.

“Okay, okay,” He simpers, moving her back until he can have her right where he wants her, on her back in the middle of the massive, blanket-ridden bed - her white lingerie standing out against the dark duvet.

Harry had always imagined this night. 

To have someone laid out underneath him. 

No rush, no urgency but to truly, physically show that person through touch that you love them.

He starts near her collarbone, feathery heated kisses that warm her skin as she welcomes him with heavy weight on top of her so eager he wasn’t even undressed yet.

When his mouth finds her nipples through the sheer fabric, she pushes her chest up in encouragement as he bites at the nubs with sharp but careful teeth that wet the fabric.

“It feels so good, baby,” YN mewls, letting him nip and suck for a moment before pushing him up until he’s rid of every inch of fabric that had been covering his body.

“M’always gonna make y’feel good. I’ll fuck you wherever, wehenver cause you’re m’wife,” Harry grunts, impatiently reaching behind to unclasp the corset until her breasts spill free and jiggle in a way that makes his mouth water.

“Wait, wait,” YN puts a hand to his cheek when he already has his mouth darting out to lap at her hardened nipple.

“Don’t make me wait, m’heart,” Harry grumbles with a furrowed brow, his hand still unable to stop from reaching up to palm at her full breasts, thumbs rolling the nipples as he stares fiercely up at her.

“You know how you got me a present?” YN murmurs, biting back a whimper when a zip of electricity shoots from her nipple down to where she’s already dripping for him, “I got you something too.”

Harry’s face relaxes, it’s like he finds his grounding again, “Baby, didn’t need t’get me anythin’. Y’the best fuckin’ gift I could have gotten. Does look beautiful sittin’ between y’tits though.”

His new wife giggles, “Well I really hope you like mine….it’s non-refundable.”

He looks at her with confusion even more so when she wriggles down her panties and flips on her belly with her arms resting under chin.

Of course, Harry finds it immediately and she can tell by the deep, pleased growl he emits from the back of his throat, “You fuckin’ didn’t.”

“I did.”

It was his name, small and cursive right on her bum cheek. 

After they got engaged, he went out and got her name tattooed on his pec - much to her dismay. 

She had never talked about returning the favor and had kept it the ultimate surprise.

“I think I almost just came from this,” Harry rasps, his fingers tracing the small ink over and over in awe, “Baby, y’put m’name on your bum. It makes y’look like my property, sweetheart.”

“I am yours,” YN giggles, yelping when she feels his teeth graze the sensitive skin before he’s suckling and licking at his name - can’t take his eyes off the beauty of her.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are,” He agrees whole-heartedly, his hands calming to cup and palm at her cheeks as he fawns over his wedding present, “This is the best present I’d ever fuckin’ received, fuck - never goin’ to get over this.”

He doesn’t want to look away from the tattoo but knows how he wants to fuck his wife for the first time so he flips her onto her back once again, lips finding hers. 

She whispers, hand wrapping around his cock, “Still have to pay you back for earlier.”

“No blowies tonight, pet. We’re goin’ to do it the right way, m’gonna make love to you,” Harry murmurs, his lips finding hers as he bats her hand away to grasp at his thick base. He teases the sensitive head over her clit and entrance a few times before slowly sinking in.

“Ohh, been ready for you all day. You looked like a fucking wet dream standing at the alter, waiting for me,” YN sighs happily, wriggling her hips to adjust a bit before she spreads her legs and lets Harry rest in between them, “Ever since I saw you in the suit, I’ve been waiting.”

“Yeah, baby? I can tell, y’so wet, warm f’me,” Harry praises, his movements are slow and unrushed, their hips meeting gently as he pushes in each time with care, “Can’t believe y’gonna let me have this for the rest of m’life.”

“I love you so so much,” She utters breathlessly as he continues to make her feel so fucking full - emotionally and physically, “Best husband ever, can’t believe it.”

Harry chuckles tenderly, “Baby, I need y’to come soon. I’m so close, never come this quick. The thought of y’being my wife is making it impossible to last then with the tatto-”

YN soothes his hair in understanding, pushing up to meet their lips and allow their tongues to dance as he lifts her thigh against his hip to thrust in with a bit more force. His thumb comes to her clit to spur her along which doesn’t take much with how aroused she’s been all day.

Harry follows right after, much to his embarrassment of his lack of stamina but can you blame him? He has the hottest fucking wife on the planet.

“Round two?” YN smirks as he leans down to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. She knows the night has just begun.

“Mmm,” He agrees instantly, “Now that we made love, m’gonna fuck y’from behind so I can watch my name jiggle on your arse.”

And that’s what he does. It takes nearly no rebound time, flips her on her belly again to gaze and worship his name as he fills out in no time again. His fingers occasionally dip back between her thighs to tease at her entrance before he swipes her own wetness on the tattoo to lick it off.

She’s tired, exhausted from the events of the day but wants to reach that last orgasm before sleep overtakes them. 

On her hands and knees, Harry doesn’t pound into her like he normally would. 

Instead, he eases back in with eyes darting between his wedding present and where they’re connecting, his thumb diligently rubbing hard and steady circle on her nerves.

“C’mon wifey, need y’to not be stubborn,” Harry goads, feeling his release coming again - he pinches her clit with just enough pressure that has her whining before Harry has to hold her up by the waist as she quivers.

It has him finishing right after with a gentle smack to her bumcheek, the skin already tender and sore from all of his attention on the spot as it was.

“I loved your vows,” YN murmurs against his chest. He had wrapped her up in one of the plush blankets and he had pulled on a tight pair of briefs and they were laying on a lounge chair on the blacony under the italian stars.

“I loved yours just as much, y’did crack the code m’love ‘cause now I’m yours forever,” Harry rumbles, his voice raspy with drowsiness.

Little did they know that in a few short years, they would be back under these italian stars with knowledge that they were growing a little product of their love in her belly.

A litte baby named Ivy, just like the beautiful, lucious nature that had decorated the place in magneificent as they spoke vows - dedicating their lives to each other.

if you’ve ask to be on my taglist and you’re not here - please check your settings because i’ve tried to add you and it didn’t work.

taglist babies (thank you): @dioc4ne @hazgoldenstyles @harrysdimple05 @wonwooen @ficnarry @leeroysdancer @harrysloveheart @harryscherrysugar @pradastardust @rish-haz @wildcstdrexms @evanstylestan @wisetoadbonkbiscuit @meredithhuntt @tpwkvictoria @lovely-him @haymix @eiffelmezarry @pilgrim-harry @soullessbabee @afterglowstyles @tulsasjesus @elenagilbert01 @meh–mood @pretty-pop-princess-hs @msolbesg @localfalsegodstan @evanjh @i-just-like-fanfics @harrys-hs-gf @lightsupdoyouknowwhoyouare @afterglcwswift @harrystyles-tpwk @amyvandijk @godilovetheenglishx @harrys-cherrry @theprofessionalfanby @your–sweetest–downfall @la-cey @bdbtchdir @killerqueencapstan @elizabeth23567 @camflowervol6 @its-a-finee-line @rish-haz @solonelytobe @nav1234 @harrynamjoon @hopefullimaginer123 @westallenhes @awesomebooklover17 @will-be-a-fineline @vasilikir5 @your–sweetest–downfall @pretty-pop-princess-hs @harrynamjoon @harrypinks @ivyirenehoax @harryspink @sunsetcurve-h @goldenstylesh @mouthfulloftoothpastehs @hello-34583 @prettylovley @nicolecarsley @lamariettes @imavirginhoe @unknown7549 @mellamolayla @kiwitsayedsugar @hopefullimaginer123 @harrysmatcha @weaslettesstuff @saintsmotels @hi-yekaterina @aubreyfineline @harrysgoldenbum @ebstylesx @goldeng1rl8 @tnqueen @percysaidnever @bebecalpal

[stficblog]

The New Girl (part 10)

Part 1 Part 9

Description: The gang goes back into the Upside Down to fight Vecna.

Warnings: Descriptions of violence.

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: Eddie will survive. I promise. He’s just gonna suffer a bit first.

Eddie and Dustin grappled playfully. You stood a few feet away, watching with amusement. Three makeshift shields lay forgotten in the grass, riddled with nails and ready for battle.

Eddie stopped wrestling and held Dustin at arm’s length, looking him in the eyes.

“Never change, Dustin Henderson,” Eddie panted, “promise me?”

Dustin looked slightly confused. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good.”

Eddie released Dustin and turned to you. Taking your hand, he twirled you around.

“And you,” he said softly, “promise me you won’t try to be a hero. Your selfless ass needs to stay alive and look after my stupid ass.”

You laughed. “My ass isn’t selfless enough to sacrifice shit for a town that never loved us.” You took a step forward, bringing yourself face to face with Eddie. “You, pendejo, better not be a hero either.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

~

The plan was relatively simple. Distract Vecna, distract the bats, then kill Vecna in his vulnerable state. You were teamed up with Dustin and Eddie to draw the bats’ attention. For the first several minutes, the three of you gathered sections of chain link fence from around the trailer park, using them to form a sort of protective cage around Eddie’s trailer. Then came the fun part.

Eddie stared at the guitar in awe. “It’s like… she was destined for an alternate dimension.” He slowly lifted it from its wall mount. “What do you say, guys? Are you ready for the most metal concert in the history of the world?”

After getting set up on the roof of the trailer, all that was left to do was wait for phase three. You stood with the two boys, looking out over the dismal landscape. All was quiet except for the distant rumble of thunder.

Robin’s voice sounded through the walkie.

“She’s in. Move on to phase three.”

“Copy that. Initiating phase three.��� Dustin grabbed the extension cord, plugging in the giant guitar amp. “Let’s hope they hear this.” The amp crackled to life.

Eddie tugged at the guitar pick that he kept hanging around his neck, snapping the chain. “Chrissy, this is for you.” He gave you one last smile and began to play.

The first chords of “Master of Puppets” by Metallica rang through the air. Eddie really got into it, nodding his head to the beat of the music as his fingers flew across the fretboard. Despite the whole fighting-monsters-in-a-parallel-dimension situation, you couldn’t help but admire the way he seemed to light up as he played what you knew was a song he had been practicing furiously for the past few weeks.

It worked.

“Eddie! We gotta lock down in T-minus 30 seconds!”

30 seconds later, the bats were almost upon you when the three of you scrambled off the roof and into the makeshift cage. You slammed the chain link door shut behind you and hurried after the boys. You all stood inside the trailer, panting after your narrow escape.

“Most… metal… EVER!!” Dustin exclaimed.

All three of you jumped up and down, holding onto each other and hollering excitedly.

~

The three of you stood with your backs together while the bats screeched and flung themselves at the outside of the trailer. You gripped your spear tightly, flinching at a particularly hard crash right above you. Then it all stopped.

“Hey dipshits!” Dustin cried. “Give up that easy, huh?!”

“Shhh,” Eddie muttered, “is that really necessary?”

There was a clattering above you. The bats were planning something.

“They’re on the roof,” you whispered.

Breaking formation, you all started following the chittering of the bats towards a vent in the kitchen area.

“They can’t get in through there, can they?” Dustin asked warily.

The vent cover shot downward as a bat rammed its head through the small opening. All of you shouted and stabbed at the vent as more bats tried to shove their way in through it.

“Die! Die! Die!” Dustin screamed.

~

One vent was blocked by Eddie’s shield, but the one in his room had been breached and you could hear bats hurling themselves at the closed door.

“That’s not gonna hold!” Dustin shouted.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Eddie pushed you toward the rope that hung from the gate.

You and Dustin made it to the other side, looking up to watch for Eddie’s escape as well. The long-haired boy started to climb the rope but stopped halfway up. He looked back at the rattling door.

“Eddie, come on, you’re so close! Let’s go!”

Eddie stared up at you and Dustin, eyes wide but not moving. He let go of the rope and stood there looking up at you.

“Y/N,” he said, “I love you.”

Picking up his spear, he severed the rope and flipped the mattress out of the way.

“Eddie no what are you doing?!”

“No! Stop! Eddie! Stop!”

Eddie looked up one last time, his face grim. “I’m buying more time.” With that, he turned and left.

Time stopped for a moment. You stared at the gate in horror, the severed rope hanging limp from your hands. You shook your head. No. You couldn’t let Eddie face this by himself. Snapping back to reality, you jumped into motion.

“Help me!” You shouted to Dustin.

Together the two of you moved the mattress out of the way and replaced it with a chair. Then, with a running jump, you managed to grab onto the edge of the gate. Your fingers scrabbled at the slimy vines as you struggled to lift yourself up. Gravity flipped and you fell through to the other side, landing on your back and having the wind knocked out of you. Gasping, you scrambled to your feet.

“Get back here, you son of a bitch!”

You didn’t wait for Dustin. Sprinting out of the trailer, you saw Eddie riding away on a bike, the swarm of bats quickly gaining on him. You grabbed another bike from the ground and started peddling after him. A bat knocked Eddie off his bike. He got up and started running but stopped after a few steps.

No, pendejo, keep running!

He turned around. Brandishing his spear and shield, he started walking back towards the swirling cloud of bats. They noticed him and started flying in his direction. You threw your bike down next to his and ran to where he now stood, bracing himself against the stream of bats that bombarded him and his shield.

“Y/N, no!” His eyes went wide and he shook his head desperately. “We have to get you out of here!”

You stood back to back, ready for the next onslaught of bats.

“Too late, pendejo,” you panted, “either we die together or not at all.”

~

You were no match for the bats. There were too many of them. They slammed into you, knocking your shields away. You and Eddie managed to fend them off for no more than a minute before the swarm overcame you.

The winged creatures swooped down, knocking you both off your feet. You had barely hit the ground when a long, powerful tail wrapped itself around your neck. Within seconds, your arms were pinned to the ground by two more bats. You heard Eddie writhing on the ground next to you.

Tears rolled down the sides of your face as you struggled to breathe. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Your lungs screamed for air while your sides screamed with a horrible, gut-wrenching pain. They were eating you.

With tremendous effort, you turned your head to find Eddie in the same situation. Those big brown eyes that always sparkled with laughter were now wide with pain and terror. Your heart broke at the sight of him lying helplessly, bound by the very beasts that would be his doom.

Slowly, shakily, you reached for each other. Feeling your movement, the bat constricting your arm tightened its grip, stopping your hand mere centimeters away from Eddie’s. You choked out a sob.

Part 11

Tag list: @totallynotkaibiased​ @hurricane-abigail​ @slytherinintj13​ @are-y0u-sirius​ @ttyrannosauruslex​ @nojamsonmytoast​ @f0undations-0f-decay​ @i2lain​ @angelbbygirl @renaroo123​ @frozenhuntress67​ @littlebirdgot​ @munsonzzgf​ @shinydixon​ @justabeautiful-letdown​

[dontfeeltoohot]

I’d love to see Eddie’s unstifled snz, if that’s something you think he’d do. And maybe Steve’s reaction.

Love it! Here is a link to mostly what I feel like his sneezes sound like. I’m putting it here because I feel like with the way I’ve written them, they probably could be imagined in a few different ways. But this is what I hear when I think of Eddie’s unstifled sneezes. 

He’s being stood up, on their anniversary. Steve huffs and looks around, feeling thoroughly put out as he waits impatiently by the IHOP just a few miles away from his place. They’ve had the whole day planned for a couple of weeks now, and he knows Eddie is aware of what day it is- they’d just seen each other last night.

Walking back over to the pay phone across from the eatery, the jock calls yet again, the third time in the past twenty seven minutes (but who’s counting). When there’s still no answer, Steve clenched his fists and yanks his car door open, letting it shut with a loud thud, ignoring the other people that are around in the parking lot. Normally he’d be worried, but right now, he’s annoyed and hungry and kind of wants to kick Eddie’s ass.

Pulling up to the Munson trailer, Steve gets out and walks straight to the door, knocking. There’s no answer. He tries again, then decides it’s worth it to use the key Eddie had given him a few months ago. Normally he wouldn’t, just to let him have his privacy. But pissed off Steve Harrington is a force to be reckoned with.

“Eddie, where the hell are you?” He says it loudly, knowing the place is definitely small enough that the guitarist will hear. Silence. And then-

“ah’Gksch’huhew! ehTCH’uhew! eh’IKstchEW!!”

Steve jumps slightly, the sneezes reverberate throughout the trailer. They sound desperate and itchy and congested, which makes Steve squirm. He’s never heard Eddie sneeze like that, and he knows he’s certain of it, he would definitely remember. There’s a sniffle that’s overwhelmingly soupy sounding, and Steve can practically see the grimace Eddie’s probably making right now.

Finally walking in further, heart beating fast, Steve makes his way down the hallway. All anger has vanished, now he’s mostly concerned and slightly turned on. In that order of course, the idea of Eddie suffering isn’t something he enjoys. Taking a few long strides, he peeks around the corner into the small back bedroom, then freezes. The first thing he notices, before even his boyfriend, is that the room is clean.

Since he’s met the guy, he’s never seen his room clean. It’s always got d&d stuff on the desk, picks and sheets of chords and notebooks full of songs written sloppily strewn about. His floor is usually the home to a least a few items of clothing, his guitar case, and a little milk carton that holds his snacks.

Now, the room looks practically spotless. All of the papers that once occupied his desk are now nowhere to be seen. His floor looks like it’s been vacuumed, hell, even the lights that are strung around the room (that sometimes remind him of the Byers house all those years ago) are no longer draped half heartedly but actually strung in a straight line with tacks.

Confused, surprised and thinking it’s almost too good to be true, Steve glances at the bed in the corner of the room- the bed that’s much comfier than his own, with pillows and blankets that are actually usable instead of stiff and scratchy. Laying there in all his beautiful, curly haired grace, is Eddie. He’s got his blankets half off, revealing his usual sweatpants and a shirt Steve’s been looking for for the past few weeks.

“heh’ItChh’uhew! ihh’Ttuhew! Ehh’KSCH’uhew!”

The twenty year old sneezes freely, not even bothering to cover. It’s possibly the hottest thing Steve’s witnessed. He’s got his right cheek smushed against one of his pillows, his left hand rubbing at his eyes in a circular motion. Another abysmally thick sniffle pulls Steve out of his turned on stupor.

“Bless you sunshine,” Steve walks over, making Eddie sit up quickly, his face contorting into utter confusion. His big brown eyes look at the clock and there’s a sharp intake of breath.

“Shit! Our date! I thought it was earlier, must have dozed off again.” He punctuates the end of the sentence with a rough scrub to his nose. His voice is thoroughly congested, his face is a little puffy, eyes red rimmed and watery. The guitarists nose is pink and quivering constantly, thin nostrils red and inflamed. “I’m so sorry Stevie.”

Steve’s heart swells and he shakes his head, slipping his sneakers off and crawling onto the bed.

“Don’t be so worried Munson,” his voice is teasing and soft, which makes Eddie deflate, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers. “Are you okay though? You sound awful.”

Sheepishly, the older (by two months!) man nods, and Steve watches as his nose proves him wrong. His nostrils flare and he tilts his head back, eyebrows knitted together.

“I uhh…hh! I c-cleahhned, and the duhh! The dust…” Eddie waves his hand around theatrically, then his eyes flutter shut. “eh’GKTchh’ew! hihh’tGschh’uhew! ehISHh’uhe! snf! The dust…m’kinda allergic I guess.”

Brain short circuiting, Steve feels heat pooling everywhere. It’s not just that Eddie’s unstifled sneezes are hot, it’s the whole package. The unstifled sneezes, the messy hair, the talking through needing to sneeze, shrugging off his allergies. And the worst thing is that Eddie knows. Eddie knows about his...being turned on, and he’s still such a tease. 

“How about we skip breakfast, ahhnd I can give you s-something behh-iXTCHH’uhew! hih’Xkktuhew! h’ahtschhuhew! better, huh killer?” 

Steve surges forward, pressing his lips to Eddies, not minding the slight dampness of it, the other mans cupids bow slick with allergic mess. 

“Sounds like a plan to me, sunshine.”