#sunflower centerpiece

[merrybrides]

Sunflower and Wildflower Centerpiece on Wooden Slab

This classic country centerpiece features sunflowers, delphiniums and hot pink and white blooms in a mason jar atop a wooden slab. The bride added a few small candles and a photo of the couple for added sweetness.

[rachelpandich]

Seattle Kitchen Inspiration for a large modern u-shaped terra-cotta tile and beige floor eat-in kitchen remodel with a farmhouse sink, raised-panel cabinets, white cabinets, solid surface countertops, white backsplash, subway tile backsplash, stainless steel appliances and an island

[seasonalwonderment]

A Late Summer Tablescape - STACIE FLINNER

[notebook91286]

232/365

[irisandfig]

the heat the heat the heat

Iris & Fig

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of Men at Work!

Just a note, I know I mix phonetic and Cyrillic spellings of Russian in this. Mostly it's so that people can easily translate the more complex words directly.

Content: Masturbation, very mild protective/possessive behavior

It’s becoming a problem.

You think this from the overstuffed daybed recently purchased for the explicit purpose of feeding into aforementioned problem. Not that the porch is the problem, heavens no. If so much as a nail came loose, there’s a trio of men across the street all too eager to lend their hammers and bulging, glistening muscles to fix it.

Which, conveniently, is the problem.

Their muscles, that is. And how magnanimous they are with them.

Your house is nice. New. It took them three days to fix all the issues you’d been putting off for a day you were non-reclusive enough to schedule a handyman.

Your house is too nice and too new.

You’re feeding a Vegas buffet’s worth of appetites raised on old world sensibilities with no outlet for them to be expressed. There aren’t enough squeaky hinges, crooked cabinets, stuck windows, or leaky faucets in your two-bedroom for all that… chivalry. (Or whatever Krueger has that passes for chivalry’s surly cousin.)

They’ve taken to invading earlier in the evening for busy work before dinner. Cutting vegetables, tenderizing meat, cleaning dishes, setting the goddamn table.

Like, sirs, you’re a single woman with three cats and a sham of a personal life – the last time you saw a centerpiece on a domestic dining table was Christmas at your nana’s.

Until Konig shuffled in with a fistful of sunflowers and zinnias, promising that he double-checked that they’re non-toxic to cats. You didn’t have a vase, so you had to make do with an empty mason jar you were keeping for ostensible aesthetic reasons.

Now you’ve got an ongoing bouquet, kitschy salt-and-pepper shakers shaped like lemons that no one ever uses (as if your seasoning decisions are as good as god) and are contemplating cloth napkins like some kind of… of…

“Socialite?” you muse aloud. You glance at Rasputin. He blinks slowly. “Hostess? Woman of the night?”

You’re pretty sure Agatha didn’t mean that as a compliment when you overheard her gossiping to Margot yesterday. (She should really remember that if she can eavesdrop on you from her backyard, the same is true the other way around.)

You’re toying with an idea for a new series with your last one wrapping up and your solo-novel due for release come fall. Something about a rich young woman with a wild streak and her fantastically wealthy gentlemen callers…

“Scarlet woman,” you murmur aloud, eyes on the reason for your recent porch décor purchase.

Krueger is on the roof, cloth around his head to stave off the summer heat. Doing… something with shingles and a nail gun. Your face flushes with each flex of hard muscle, jump of thick tendons. The grip he has on that thing…

As inspiring as your neighbors are, they are also a huge (in many, many ways) distraction. Hence, they are a Problem.

And not just for you. On your right, you catch the flutter of curtains from your peripheral. Lisa taking another peek – to be properly scandalized, probably. (You’re not really sure what the neighborhood biddies tell themselves when they decide something is Simply Not Proper.)

“We’ll have to start charging admission,” you muse, sipping a strawberry mojito.

Curled up far too close for the weather, Little Guy chuffs and stretches. You smooth a fingertip up his little nose, between his eyes, and over the crest of his empty head.

“Jezebel,” you mumble. He yawns, tongue curling and pearly fangs gleaming. “Trollop.”

An annoyed grunt pulls your eyes forward again. Nikto is standing halfway up the porch, one foot planted on the last step like a sexy Russian Captain Morgan. His thighs stretch his workpants oh-so-nicely. There’s a smear of white paste across the material – caulking, maybe?

(You could do with a caulking too.)

“Has someone called you these?” he asks. “Who?”

You laugh. What would he even do if someone had?

“No – well, not to my face, anyway.”

He snorts, shoots a withering scowl at Agatha’s property anyway. You spin your pen around your fingers and try not to bite your lip at the way his shirt is clinging from sweat.

“Aren’t you hot?” you fuss. “You’re going to pass out.”

“Nyet, we have been in worse,” he replies, finishing the short journey up the porch. He pauses in front of you, taking in the sight of you and your cats. What does he think, seeing you lounging about all day while he and his friends(?) are working so hard? If it’s something negative, he’s never let on.

“Still,” you insist, “have you been hydrating?”

“Da, the water runs.”

You blink, put together pieces to assume he and the others are chugging tap water (probably right from the faucet) when necessary. Well, that just won’t do now, will it?

“No, no. Hold on. Rasputin, hold him hostage.”

And like the little angel he is, Ras gets up, stretches out, and begins rubbing his face all over Nikto’s pants. With him distracted, you hop to your feet and scurry inside. The house is almost uncomfortably cool after most of your morning spent outside, but you’ll only be a moment.

There’s a large ruby pitcher waiting in the fridge from last night, complete with various berries floating at the top. You use two hands to heft it out, set it on the counter, then flit to your cabinets for the travel cups you invested in for on-the-go wine sipping. Nice and insulated.

You pour a cup for each of them, stow the pitcher away again, and carry all three in triangle-formation back outside. (Maybe you should get a tray? The antique store in town probably has something pretty and lemon-themed to match the salt and pepper shakers…)

Nikto hurries to help as soon as he sees you, plucking the extra cup from your hands.

“I saw this recipe and wanted to try it since it’s been getting hotter.”

He blinks at you, then the juice.

“You don’t have to try it now, I just thought—”

Your voice abandons you as Nikto tugs his filtration mask down. The skin beneath is warped and scarred, discolored in some places. When he raises the edge of the cup to his mouth, the skin of one cheek stretches distressingly thin. You can see the individual indents of his back molars pressing against the flesh as he drinks.

You understand why he’s been hesitant to show you; it’s not easy to look at. Which makes you all the more determined to flick your eyes back to his and ask, eagerly, “What do you think? Too sweet?”

As he swallows, throat clicking, you think you hear him grunt something.

“Hm?”

“Nyet. Not too sweet. Is good, пчела.”

You grin even though you’re not sure what it means. All three of them have some nickname in their mother tongue that you can only hope is complimentary and not because they forgot your actual name.

“Good, then I can bring some to K and K while you help me with lunch. That’s why you came by, right?”

He nods. “Nearly noon.”

“That late already!” you say. Wow, staring at hot, sweaty men really makes time fly. “Alright, I was going to make chicken wraps and latkes. Could you start peeling potatoes? You know where everything is, da?”

“Da.” He clicks his tongue, luring Rasputin in and stirring Guy awake. “Come, малышу, before we leave you out here for vultures.”

“Nikto!” you scold. “Don’t threaten him.”

“I do not threaten. It is what will happen.”

You swat at his arm, but at least Little Guy has been lured into Nikto’s reach – if by nothing else than a hand has been offered and cats are helpless to resist a good sniff. Nikto scoops him up while you turn to flounce down the stairs.

“Make sure Susan doesn’t get out!” you call over your shoulder.

She was roused by your quick turnaround to get the juice cups and will certainly be stalking the door now.

Sure enough, you faintly hear him cursing in Russian as you reach the end of the yard. Luckily, you see him closing the door with all three of your demons inside, so you continue across the street.

Krueger hasn’t noticed your approach, his back to you, so you stop at the edge of the property to watch for a moment. Yep, just as good this close, too.

“Krueger!” you call. He doesn’t turn. You huff and try again. Nothing. Christ, you’re starting to think he’s ignoring you on purpose. “Sebastian!”

His head whips around alarmingly fast and finds you right there on the ground. No need to look around at all – sometimes they remind you of their profession in the oddest ways.

“Ja, ja, no need to shout,” he replies.

You open your mouth to do just that, but he’s already scaling down from the roof. You’re stunned into silence as he slides down to the edge of the roof, catches the edge, and swings down to the ground. Lands with barely more noise than one of your footsteps. It’s quick yet so graceful.

You stare (gawk, more accurately) as he saunters up, pants sinfully low on his narrow hips.

“What did you need, bienchen?” he asks. “It is too early for lunch.”

You stutter for a second before your brain reboots.

“What was that?!” you demand, a little shriller than necessary. If you don’t shriek about this, you’re going to shriek about that gorgeous chest and the tattoos and the everything else, and you absolutely cannot do that. “That was so dangerous! You’re going to break a leg!”

“You worry,” he scoffs. He shakes his head, but there’s a wicked, knowing grin at the corners of his mouth and his eyes are far too bright. “That was a little jump.”

“It was not!”

“It only seemed big because you are so little, but it was nothing for me.”

“You’re not that much taller!”

“It is sweet to worry,” he coos, “but it is too hot for it, yes?”

You scrunch your nose at him, not sure if you’re annoyed or turned on or both. (Probably both. It’s annoying how hot he is. And how hot he knows he is.)

“If it’s so hot, then here.”

You all but shove the cup at him. He takes it with a flicker of genuine surprise, sniffs at the liquid, then takes a sip. A pleased hum rumbles in his chest, raises the temperature another few degrees.

“My mother used to make something like this,” he muses, expression softening. You blink, lean in automatically for a peck to your cheek. “Danke schön.”

“Bitte,” you mumble, mouth drier than Reggie’s garden.

His eyes crinkle, mouth hidden by the edge of the cup as he proceeds to chug the rest of it. A droplet slips down his jaw and skips down to his collarbone. You force your eyes away before you’re driven to do something irreparable by thirst.

“Is Konig inside?” you ask. “I have a cup for him, too.”

He grunts confirmation, tongue curling around a blueberry to coax it into his mouth.

Yep, alright, that’s about as much as you can take.

“Scooch, before the punch goes warm.”

“Punch?” he repeats, arching an eyebrow at you.

“That’s what it’s called in English. Punch.”

“That seems like it would cause misunderstanding.” Except he’s grinning as he says it, like he cherishes the idea of someone confusing the two words and starting a fight. Considering how often you catch him and Konig smacking at each other, that’s probably not a stretch.

“Just please don’t swing on anyone, yeah?”

“Only because you ask so nicely,” he croons.

You click your tongue at him. “Wipe off before going in, I don’t want Shithead to stink after crawling on you.”

He barks out his usual sharp laugh and tugs the cloth – his own t-shirt – off his head to mop up his sweat. You make a mental note to tease him about sunburn later as you slip past him.

You can hear Konig singing off-key upstairs when you open the door. The house is sweltering, only mildly cooler than outside with none of the fresh air. You grimace as you pause at the bottom of the stairs; the boys have warned you that it’s dangerous up there and it’s best not to go wandering.

Thankfully, it doesn’t sound like he’s using power tools at the moment.

“Konig!” you call.

“Is that you, biene?” he calls back.

You grin. “Who else would it be, huh?”

You hear his footsteps right over your head, track his gait until the first heavy boot on the stairs. He meets you at the bottom with his usual ventilator on, but he tugs it down when he sees the cup in your hand.

“Is this for me?” he asks eagerly.

“Yep! Tell me what you think!”

With none of Nikto or Kreuger’s hesitation, he knocks back a big mouthful. Licks his full lips as he lowers it, eyes bright as they land on yours.

“This is perfect,” he chirps, “so refreshing! Thank you, biene!”

You beam right back, flushed with pride that all three of them liked the recipe you “happened to find” when you saw the temperature projections for today.

“There’s more back home,” you offer, “come out of the heat.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. “I will wipe off first.”

You hum agreeably, watching him slip back upstairs with great enthusiasm. Konig in a tank top and those tight cargos… summer really is delivering this year.

That evening, you sigh as you recline across your huge bed, naked and cooling off with the night breeze rolling through your window. Ras and Shithead are happily distracted wrestling each other in your forgotten towel, and Little Guy is snoozing on his personal pillow.

You stretch out, feeling a bit decadent and indulgent with moonlight spilling over your body, and let your hands wander. It’s not the high-efficiency sleep-oriented wank you usually rush through, not this time.

You unspool memories of the day with each brush of your fingertips over moisturized skin. You hum as your skin tingles, imagining Konig’s calloused palms in place of yours. He’d be so surprisingly gentle, you’re sure. Big, strong hands but he’d play with you like a precious toy. Plucking your nipples and scratching his blunt nails over the plush of your hips.

As your breathing picks up, you see Krueger’s broad shoulders flexing behind your eyelids. Imagine them bullying between your thighs, hooking your knees over. That bright glint in his eye as he smirks against your cunt. Can practically feel the curl of his tongue around your clit, eating you out messy and mean.

You’re already halfway there when you curl two fingers into your pussy. You’re so wet that your fingers slip and slide, squelch lewdly as you rock your hips, trying to find just the right angle.

You imagine Nikto clicking his tongue at your struggle. Almost hear his low, hoarse voice chiding you for doing his job while he takes over. His fingers are so much thicker than yours, you have to press a third in just to maintain the fantasy.

You want to lean back against his broad chest while he strokes your walls, listen to him and Krueger and Konig talk about you like you’re not even there, debating if you should come. Ignore you as you beg and whimper, big hands pinning you down while they draw it out.

Please, please, please…

You clap a hand over your mouth just in time, hips jerking so hard that it makes your wrist ache.

Whoops.

Well, you doubt anyone heard. It’s pretty late, and you’re on the second story anyway.

Already sleepy, you’re too lazy to close the window after a pre-bed stop in the restroom. It’s such a nice night, after all.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[acaaai-t]

and it was all yellow.

[modern au! scaramouche x gn! reader]

cw: angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of cheating, breakups, reader likes yellow

“Let’s live together when we get married! Oh oh, and we can get cat too,” you exclaimed. “Or a dog, if you prefer.”

“No kids?” a smile tugged at the corner of his lips at your bubbling excitement.

Your nose scrunched up at the mere thought of having children. “No, no kids,” you said, shaking your head.

Scaramouche laughed, the corner of his eyes crinkling up as he looked at you, eyes filled with just pure adoration and love for you.

“Our bedroom can be painted.. hmm..”

“What about yellow?” Scaramouche suggested. “It’s is your favorite color after all.”

You clapped your hands together, eyes lighting up with excitement. “Ooh yes! Great idea. Let’s go look at furnitures, please?”

“I still think you’re thinking too far ahead,” he mumbled, yet nevertheless, he took your hand and guided you out the living room.

“It’s never too late to start planning,” you said, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his lips.

…

“Mmm, no. Too… blue.”

“How about this one?” the sales lady gestured to a simple pastel couch placed upon a soft plush carpet. “This one just came in, part of out newest collection of furniture.”

You looked at Scaramouche, who had an unpleasant expression on his face. He didn’t seem to be a fan of the colors—nor the shape of the furniture itself. You turned back to the sales assistant and gently shook your head.

She looked slightly disappointed at your rejection, but she quickly led you to another set of kitchen setups, all the while explaining the benefits provided and how nice it looks. You ran a finger over the waxed surface of the wooden dining table. A cloth of yellow and white checkered pattern lay over the center of the table, a vase of yellow daffodils sitting atop of it.

Yellow.

For as long as you can remember, it’d always been your favorite color. You’ve taken quite the liking to sunflowers recently, and coincidentally enough, they were a beautiful shade of yellow too. Scaramouche knew—he somehow always knew—and made sure to surprise you with bouquets of fresh flowers every once in a while, the giant sunflower being the centerpiece.

Scaramouche knew you, inside and out. The good and the bad. He’s seen through with you through your worst and your best. He knows exactly how to cheer you up when you’re feeling down, via a long cuddle session; how you like your coffee, always black with a splash of vanilla creamer; the people you love and hate; that you adore the color yellow.

Never was there a day where Scaramouche would hear himself say that yellow was lovely color. For some odd reason, ever since he was a young child, he’d always hated yellow. But after meeting you, it’s as if yellow had been completely painted in a new light. Everything yellow he saw, he saw you in it. Splashed across the sunset, blooming in a field under the stars—you. You were always there.

“Do you like it?” Scaramouche asked.

You met his eyes and smiled. “Yeah.”

…

“Yeah, its… true.”

You said nothing.

Scaramouche shifted uncomfortably in his seat at your silence. You kept your eyes trained on the nearly dead daffodil leaning helplessly against its ceramic cage. The petals had begun falling off, you noticed. When had that happened? Just a couple days ago everything was fine. It was healthy and thriving. Happy.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Did he think that such a measly apology was enough to compensate for your broken heart? Nothing Scaramouche did or say could soothe the burning ache that hollowed you from the inside-out. He’d been playing with your emotions for nearly two weeks now. Had it not been Scaramouche slipping up, you would’ve never caught on that he was being intimate with someone else that wasn’t you.

Tears brimmed, the water tension so close to falling. You blinked, and it broke, tears trailing down your cheeks. Does he feel anything seeing you cry? Does he regret his actions? Will he hate himself for what he’s done to you? You gritted your teeth. Even if he begged for you to stay, you won’t waver. It’s his loss.

You sniffled and wiped away your tears. It’s useless. Crying won’t reverse what’s been done. “Whatever,” you muttered, pushing away from the dining table. Your heart aches, but you pushed the pain aside and slowly collected yourself.

The place that you’d once shared with Scaramouche—a place that you once dared called home, was now nothing more than a painful reminder of what once was yours. A place where you’d spent creating countless day and nights painting up a paradise where you’d raise your children with your husband. Everything you’ve done was futile. It’s over.

It was bitter. The process of packing your belongings as Scaramouche remained at the dining table was cruel. Everything you wanted to take only serves as nothing more than a taunt to your now dead relationship. Everything you ever loved you shared with him, and now, you don’t think you’d ever be able to look at them in the same light anymore. Your hands hovered over a pot of crocheted sunflowers sitting above the fireplace. Crestfallen, youfelt your heart twist once more.

In the end, your tiny backpack was only filled with everyday essentials. You swallowed back a cry and dialed a friend as you prepared to leave this god forsaken place.

“Hey Xiao,” your voice was quivering.

Scaramouche stiffened up at the mention of your friend’s name. You didn’t see it however, for your back was turned to him. He wanted to stop you from leaving, to stop you from stepping out the door. But he refrained from doing so. He chewed anxiously at his bottom lips. Don’t leave. Please. He wanted to say. I’m sorry.

Yet he did nothing, only squeezing his eyes shut, listening to the sound of the door slamming shut. When it was finally just him alone in the apartment, he buried his face in the palm of his hands and cried.

The yellow curtains fluttered gently, and the last petal of the daffodil fell.

✩ ·┆ masterlist┆ >> part 2 <<

notes—

— quick life update: haven’t played genshin in a year now, and it’s college application season so i’m going to start stressing; sorry if i disappear again it will keep happening, unfortunately

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

[thingsjusthappensometimes]

Welcome to my Fashion AU hell. More under the cut.

AU Concept Summary:

Miles Edgeworth is a fashion designer who owns his own highly successful brand EDGEWORTH.

He begrudgingly puts up with his snarky photographer, Phoenix Wright, because he is, unfortunately, very good at his job.

But when Edgeworth’s main model injures himself right before the Incredibly Important Fashion Show, the designer makes a split second decision that he’s certain is going to kill his career.

He sends out on the runway, wearing his centerpiece design, the only man with the same measurements as the original model: Phoenix Goddamn Wright.

The mysterious model takes the world by storm almost overnight, and now all people talk about when they talk about EDGEWORTH is Phoenix.

But they’re talking about the brand. They’re talking about it a lot.

Miles can’t kick the guy out of his life now, now could he? That would be career suicide!

Nope. For the foreseeable future, they’re stuck together, whether they like it or not.

…and they quickly find out they like it far more than either ever expected.

- - - -

There is so much more to this AU swirling in my head, but that’s the jist of the concept.

Thank you to the folks at the nrmt creators server for riffing with me on this concept as it has quickly consumed my brain.

I hope to write this story down someday. But for now, if I post anything else on this AU, I’ll be using the #aafashionau tag.

- - - -

On This Painting

In this image Phoenix is wearing a bespoke piece designed solely for him for Paris fashion week.

Miles even designed and hand embroidered the lace sunflowers himself. (Rare for him these days)

It’s a beautiful suit-like gown, and Phoenix is not the most confident in it until he’s under the lights.

[Reference Image]

[whitexwolfxx310]

Hi. Request. A bucky or sebastian x fem reader. Soft wedding smut. Fluff. NO daddy or mommy kinks, for the love of God. NO! Thank you

Yes!!! I have been so excited to write something like this! I couldn't help but dive right into it! I hope you enjoy ♥️

||You're My Home||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: Your wedding night!

Warnings: Spicy content! 18+ only! Oral sex F receiving, unprotected penetration, praise kink, FLUFFFFFFF!

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This isn't a part of the BBWWS, but let me know what you think!

Spending the last year planning the intricate details of a wedding had you completely drained. Centerpieces, invitations, flowers… it sounds fun in theory, but was utterly exhausting.

Bucky did everything he could to be by your side every step of the way. Even the late nights when he came home from a mission to find you crying in the middle of the floor- that was littered with glue, glitter, ribbons, and card stock that was going to somehow come together to make the seating chart you had imagined in your head. He had this magic about him that would take the stress away, reminding you that the very core of all of this was your love for one another. He’d offer to help, and seeing him in all black leather covered with glitter was a sight to behold. You teased your fiancé, saying he should pitch that idea as a new uniform.

You held onto those little moments to help push you through the craziness of wedding planning. After all, the endgame was becoming Mrs. Barnes. And even though the big day got closer and closer, you never got over the sight of Bucky’s mothers ring on your finger.

But it all came together on a beautiful fall evening as you each stood at the end of a plush grass isle. That had been his one and only request- to be married outdoors in a wide open space. Bucky didn’t look when you first appeared, he was afraid. It wasn’t until the music played and Steve gave him a reassuring grip on his shoulder, did he brave a look.

He didn’t smile at first. His eyes took in every small detail; The bold white sheath dress that hugged your curves, the plunging sweetheart neckline that accented your breasts, the floral patterned lace that disappeared the further it fluttered down the dress. No, he didn’t smile. Not yet. Instead his teeth clenched and his lips slightly twitched as you started to walk towards him. Bucky’s ocean blue eyes now had a watery sheen to them, conveying just one simple word: ‘mine’.

When you were only just a few feet away from the sunflower and marigold decorated alter, he stepped forward to meet you. To hold your hand in his as you both take your last steps as each others fiancé. Standing face to face in front of a large group of people that suddenly seemed to disappear, you could only focus on the man in front of you. His pearly white teeth that gleamed as he now smiled, his eyes as bright as you’ve ever seen them, his infamous nose scrunch in excitement that made you fall in love with him in the first place, and that tanned, God-like skin that practically glowed under his all black suit. Every feature was enhanced from the too perfect watercolor sun as it started to set during your vows.

The minister hadn’t even finished the conclusion of the ceremony by saying ‘you may now kiss the bride’ before Bucky gently cupped both sides of your face and gave you the sweetest, heartfelt kiss. The beaming smiles on both of your faces almost made it impossible to press your lips together. Cheers and clapping erupted from the crowd, causing him to take you into his arms, dipping you down low as he maintained the kiss for show.

The evening was full of clinking utensils against glasses, music that had everyone dancing (even Bucky), and the ever so slightly guilty conscience you had from wasting such an amazing tasting cake by smushing it into his face. It went by so fast that it was practically a blur, and over far too soon.

Everyone sent you off in the picture perfect way; people lined up on both sides of the main entrance and held sparklers that just felt as though they were illuminating the newly married glow coming off of you both.

Driving back to the rented cabin for your wedding night was painfully slow. Bucky’s hand rested on your thigh as he drove, giving the occasional squeeze when his thumb wasn’t grazing against the soft white fabric.

Pulling into the drive, you can feel that the night has cooled. He quickly turns off the car and slightly fumbles as he runs around to open the car door for you. Holding out his hand, you take it into yours and allow him to help you out. After all, wedding dresses aren’t well known for their ability to move with you. Bucky picks you up, now holding you in traditional bridal style to bring you through the threshold. He kicks the door lightly, opening it and walking through, making you giggle as you held onto him.

“Thank you, husband.” You enunciate. He smirks, gently placing you back into your feet.

“You’re welcome, wife.” He reiterates the title also. You both laugh.

His eyes find yours, portraying the same look of adoration he has given you through the entire day, making you feel like the happiest and luckiest woman in the world. Your smile mirrored his own- but one side of your lip tugged into a smirk as you slowly started stepping backwards towards the bedroom. The faint clicking of your heels against the floor being your silent invitation.

Those sky blue eyes set ablaze, and without hesitation, he pulled at his black tie, shimmying the knot down until it was undone and fell to the floor. Bucky’s midnight black tuxedo jacket followed suit, starting to leave a trail of his clothes as he followed you into the bedroom.

He places his hands on each side of your waist and encourages you to turn around. Now with your back to him, he steps in close- the front of his body now pressing into yours. As you expose your neck, Bucky's lips kiss your collarbone, almost making you visibly shiver under his touch. He inhales deeply, as if somehow your scent has changed now that you're officially his. His lips leave small, butterfly soft kisses that trace up to your ear. Instinctively, warm fingertips trace along the lace seam on your lower back.

"You looked... so beautiful today," he breathed, as his fingers clasped the tiny zipper. "But, I would be lying if I said that I haven't been thinking about getting you out of this dress, all day." Your hips impulsively press back against his at the words. The fabric became less taut the more he pulled the zipper down.

That familiar combination of his warm and cool touch started to line your curves. Turning in Bucky's arms to face him, the dress pooled around your feet on the floor. After helping you out of the mesh layers, Bucky drops to his knees in front of you as he admires your new revealed outfit- a strapless, shortened, white flower patterned corset with a matching lace thong and garter belt to hold up thigh high stockings. Placing a firm kiss on your stomach, his head tilts up so he can look at you through hooded eyes- his lower lip still tugged down against your belly slightly.

"God, you're gorgeous. Just...perfect. And mine." The last word changed his tone from admiration to instant primal. He was back on his feet, hands already starting to roam your body. In return, you grip the collar of his dress shirt, pulling his face down closer to yours. Even in heels, you're significantly shorter than him.

"I love you, Bucky. You're everything I've ever wanted, needed, and more." You say, in a small voice- your lips so close to his that they just barely touched with each word you spoke. Not even waiting for a response, you purse your lips to his as you start to fumble with the buttons of his dress shirt.

His warm tongue skims against yours- and now you're even more impatient that his naked body isn't already on top of yours. Taking a fist full of the shirt from both sides, you pull as hard as you could- buttons flying, leaving his chest bare. Bucky's lips didn't leave yours as you pushed the shirt down his arms, letting it drop to the floor.

Stepping forward, he supports your body- laying you down on the bed. His hips press firmly between your legs, and even through his dress pants you could feel that he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him; Causing the recognizable throbbing in your lower core to make it's first appearance. His palm presses flat against your upper chest, feeling your heart as it starts to beat faster, for him.

Using his palm as guidance, his lips now trail behind his hand as it coasts lower on your body. Your sternum, beneath your ribs, your belly button, and just above your underwear. While his lips left creamy, soft kisses- the small amount of stubble on his chin tickles, causes you to wriggle slightly under his touch. You exhale all of the air out of your lungs as he plants one faint kiss on top of the thin fabric between your legs. The warmth from his breath has your body completely in his control; your back arching off the bed, aching for more of his touch.

Moving the fabric to the side, he gives one more exposed, tongue filled kiss- causing your breath to hitch. You force yourself to look down, taking the upmost gratification of seeing this man's, your man's, face between your thighs. Bucky ran his warm pointer finger through your folds, grinning with approval of how wet you already are. His ribbed tongue swirls as he licks and sucks smoothly- your hips grind softly, working with his motions.

At first your moans are sigh like and gradually turn into small whimpers. It's a small game Bucky likes to play- teasing and edging almost to the point it will drive you insane. But the orgasms that snowball through you over and over again make it so worth it. He glides over that one sweet spot that makes your entire body tense.

"Don't stop," You sigh, struggling to maintain breathing as your nails start grabbing into his full head of hair. He gives a small 'Mmm' in response, the hum from his throat practically echoing in your rib cage.

Keeping the gradual brushing of his tongue, your entire body starts to come off of the bed. Your toes point downward as you fail in remembering how to breathe- Bucky's arms tense around your thighs as you start to wriggle, holding you in place as you ride through the wave of pent up tension.

A combination of his name delicately wrapped in moans escape your mouth. Even after what seems like relentless energy waves rolling through your body, his tongue doesn't stop- but instead becomes softer and silky, twirling so gently around your extremely sensitive and swollen clit. Only once does your body shudder at each pass of his tongue does he stop.

The coolness of the air replaces where his mouth was as he kneels on the bed. Bucky pulls on his belt buckle, the metal rattling as it comes undone and gets thrown onto the floor. At some point, your thong had been ripped off. Being the skilled lover that he is, his pants are already being tugged off as he moves to hover over you. His sweet- yet salty, lips are on yours; his tongue massaging your own as you both taste yourself through the kiss.

Reaching down between your legs, you grasp and start to stroke him slowly. He breathes into the kiss at your touch and as you adjust your body underneath him. You guide the tip of him to your entrance, rubbing it maliciously slow up and down your folds to lubricate him, with you. The most delicious sound reverberates in his throat as his hips gently press forward, his silent plead. Not being able to resist much longer yourself, you start to guide him inside of you.

A unanimous moan is breathed out between the two of you as he presses in. In an attempt to make himself slick, Bucky pushes in, and then pulls out- repeating this movement until the majority of his length is inside of you. You're so tight that he can't fit in all the way just yet.

His hips rock gingerly against your own, starting off gradually as your internal walls expand to adjust around his intimidating size. The abdominal throbbing didn't stay dormant for long once Bucky found his rhythm. He breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead into your own. His breathing becomes heavier as your whimpers morph into moans- moans transform into broken 'oh's'.

This being your second orgasm makes it more intense; and Bucky knows well enough to keep his pace. Changing anything in the moment could cause him to start over again. Not that he would mind.

"Just like that," he breathes, and gently strokes your cheek. And you start to crumble all over again at the smoothness of his words. Your nails dig into his slick and muscled back for stability- your stomach re-living that rollercoaster drop feeling. The sounds coming from you are becoming shaky and high pitched. Bucky presses his lips back into yours, swallowing your sharp whines of pleasure.

He doesn't allow you time to come back down from this high; instead he repositions you both. Bucky is now slightly leaned back on his knees with you straddled on top of him, nice and close.

"One more?" He asks with a smug smile, already taking on the challenge regardless.

Your throat is so dry, your vision still semi blurred- and yet, how can I say no?

His hands grip onto your hips- your bodies forming a V. No movement involved, you can feel the incline of him in this position- with every tiny motion, his tip is going to caress against your G-spot in this alignment.

The first, slow grind makes Bucky hiss. He's deeper, you feel tighter. This isn't going to take long at all... for either of you.

Allowing his hands to guide your hips, you move along to his pattern. The combination of both internal and external stimulation already has you unable to think straight. Your body shudders a little more fiercely this time- Bucky's fingers dig into your skin more as he grunts through his breath. You can feel the pulsing, warm sensation inside as he comes- making him feel even more slick. His body convulses slightly until all that is left is excessive breathing and sticky, sweaty skin between you both.

Bucky's hands cup your face- the cold from his metal hand being more than welcome. "God, I love you." He says, then presses his lips against yours. And in this moment, you realize that every night for the rest of your lives could be like this. This intense, this passionate- forever.

If you enjoyed this, please check out my Masterlist! Requests are open!

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[paisleypens]

farmers market spencer agnew

sweet summer air | spencer agnew x reader

literally exactly the request

~~~

The first thing you heard in the morning was the chirp of the birds outside your window. You stretched, feeling the excitement of the day bubbling inside you. Today was the day you and Spencer had planned a trip to the farmer’s market, and you couldn’t be more thrilled.

You quickly got dressed, opting for a casual yet cute look. You hummed joyfully doing your morning rituals and just as you were about to grab your bag, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Spencer.

“Morning!!! Ready for a farmer's market adventure :) ??”

You smiled and texted back, “good morning! so ready! see you in a bit.”

Spencer arrived right on time, greeting you with a warm hug and a kiss on the forehead. His joy was contagious, and you both couldn’t stop smiling as you made your way to the market.

The market was bustling with its stalls lined with colorful fruits, vegetables, and flowers. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blossoms and berries making the day smell sweeter.

“Where should we start?” Spencer asked, looking around with wide eyes.

“How about the fruit stalls?” you suggested, pointing towards a stall overflowing with ripe berries and peaches.

As you approached the stall, Spencer picked up a strawberry and held it out to you. “These are gorgeous.”

“Sounds like something we could bake with!” you exclaimed, grabbing a basket to fill with strawberries, blueberries, and peaches. Spencer giggled before joining in, picking the best ones he could find.

With your basket full of fruits, you moved on to the flower stalls. Spencer gently picked up a bunch of sunflowers, their bright yellow petals shining extra for the sunny day. “These would look perfect on your dining table,” he said, handing them to you.

“They’re beautiful, thank you,” you replied, touched by his thoughtfulness. You added a few more flowers to the bunch, creating a perfect bouquet to be your centerpiece.

Next, you wandered over to the trinket stalls, where various knick-knacks were on display. Spencer’s eyes lit up when he saw a small, intricately designed ceramic cat. “This looks just like Squishy,” he said, picking it up with a chuckle.

“It’s adorable,” you agreed. “You should get it.”

He did, and you continued to browse, finding little treasures and laughing together at some of the more “out-there” items. Spencer found a tiny, carved wooden heart and handed it to you. “A little keepsake from today.”

You held the heart close, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Thank you, Spencer. This day has been perfect.”

“It’s not over yet,” he said, taking your hand. “Let’s get some fresh lemonade and find a spot to sit.”

With lemonade in hand, you found a cozy bench under a large oak tree. The two of you sat close, sipping your drinks and people watching. Spencer leaned in, his arm around your shoulders, and you rested your head on his chest.

“I could get used to this,” you murmured, feeling utterly content.

“Me too,” he replied softly, planting a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Me too.”

As the morning became afternoon, you knew that this day would be one of your favorite memories with Spence.

[loveyhoons]

FORGET-ME-NOT | one

pairing: park sunghoon x f!reader

synopsis: sunghoon never believed in love due to his biggest secret: having the disease hanahaki. when he meets you on a whim one night, he realizes he may have found his cure...you. will love be both in your favor, or will it all crumble before it even started?

word count: 2.7k words

warnings: cussing, alcohol consumption

taglist: OPEN! send in an ask or comment if you’d like to be tagged

The sun shone brightly on the sidewalk and the streets surrounding the area.

You and your best friend Chaehyun decided to check out the Farmer’s Market today, knowing the nice old lady who sold flowers would be back once again with more commodities.

In your shared apartment with Chaehyun, there was a flower vase that was the centerpiece of the dining table. As the flowers her boyfriend Heeseung got her were withering, she decided to replace them and get a fresh bouquet. You decided to tag along, needing a breath of fresh air.

It was a routine to always go to the farmer’s market ever since the two of you moved into your apartment back in freshman year. Now on your second semester of junior year in university, the two of you were always glued together-literally.

You walked through the rows of buckets, looking at the different flowers. Your eyes glistened as soon as you spotted your favorite flowers: Forget Me Nots. You bent down, looking at the blue and purple flowers bundled up in the bucket.

“Did you want to add those to the flower vase?” Chaehyun asked as she held a few of her favorite flowers in her hands.

You nodded, picking a few. “Sure, why not?” Standing up, you handed some of the flowers you chose and gave them to Chaehyun as she looked at the bouquet as a whole. “Wow, they added a nice touch with the sunflowers and tulips.”

You never really knew why Forget Me Nots were your favorite flowers. There was never a backstory to it; all you could say was that whenever you saw the flowers, they seemed to have a bigger meaning than thought. Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in you or the movies of the main leads finding their soulmates in the most random places- but for you, it just gave you the feeling of true love.

As Chaehyun went to pay, you walked down the sidewalk to find more vendors and other things to buy. You then stumbled upon one of your friends from your Photos class last semester, Jake Sim. As you both crossed paths, he waved from the side of the area he was in. He held a bag of fresh oranges, looking for the perfect ones to buy.

You and Jake talked often as he was notably one of the most handsome guys in your grade- also one of Heeseung’s closest friends. He, Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon- his entire friend group was known as the campus hunks per say. They were all known to be flirtatious- well minus Heeseung since he got together with Chaehyun.

They always showed up to the parties, knew almost everyone, had high grades, and overall just had a reputation that shone across the campus. It is known that they were never serious about one thing which was love.

Maybe that was why you were skeptical as soon as Chaehyun confessed to you she started seeing Heseeung. But soon enough, he proved himself worthy of dating your best friend.

“Hey Y/N, what brings you here?” Jake asked politely as you stood by the crate of oranges.

“Chae wanted to grab some flowers for the vase in the dining room.” You replied.

“There you are, you wandered off-” Chaehyun sighed as she glanced towards Jake, giving him a wave.

“Let me guess?” Jake smiled as Chaaehyun nodded her head. “The flowers withered.”

Chaehyun showed Jake the bouquet of flowers as he looked at each one, admiring how pretty the bouquet was. He then snapped his fingers, as if a lightbulb appeared on the top of his head.

“Wait, before I forget, you and Y/N are coming to Yeonjun’s party tonight right? It’s the first last party of the spring semester since he’s graduating in May.”

“Hee told me about that, I’ll tag along,” Chaehyun replied. She then looked at you and shook her head. “I don’t know about Y/N though.”

“You guys have fun,” You smiled. “I got assigned a paper already in my Sociology class.”

In honesty, the paper was not due in 3 weeks, you had another deadline: your article in the Campus Online Paper. As a journalism major, you must participate in the school’s online newspaper under an Alias for at least one semester in your last two years of university. No one knew it was you who wrote those articles, not even Chaehyun.

It was your little secret to keep, you wanted people to critique your writing because of skill not because it was you per say.

You decided to get it over with and participate this semester under the alias Forget Me Not (you had no clue what your alias should be) and write about Classics and Myths. As you had the creative freedom to choose a topic and stick with it for that semester, you decided to write about different stories that piqued your interest and analyze them.

You remembered the first day of your Intro to Classics and Myths, stunned by learning about the Narcissus flower.

The myth was about the nymph Echo and the hunter Narcissus. Echo was cursed by the goddess Juno, the Roman counterpart of the Greek goddess Hera. Echo was cursed to only repeat what someone had already said.

Echo then falls in love with Narcissus who rejects her; she does not give up, only for her body to then go to waste with only an echo of her soul to be heard. Narcissus then is punished by Nemesis, the Greek counterpart of Artemis, and curses him to only fall in love with no one but himself.

As Narcissus then stops by a nearby pond, thirsty, he sees his reflection in the pond, not realizing he is looking at himself. In pure bliss, Narcissus decided to lean closer and realized he could not fall in love with the reflection, falling into his death; the Narcissus flower then started to grow in his place.

After learning about the Myth and being intrigued by the story, you wrote about the piece and your thoughts. You felt like you just rambled in your article analyzing it and adding your feelings and how pitiful love could be for people.

Frankly, you were supposed to stay for just one semester. As the number of reads slowly increased after your first article, the student president of the paper, Choi Soobin, asked you to stay just for one more semester, promising to put in a good word with you for the broadcasting company he was currently interning at.

Now here you are, trying to pry your way out of an offer that you probably can’t refuse knowing it was going to be one of the biggest parties of the semester. Especially since Yeonjun moved into an apartment space that was larger than the last one he last lived in.

“See I told you.” Chaehyun chimed. “She’s a busy girl.”

“Ah, well I tried,” Jake replied. “But if you do change your mind, you should tag along. It’d be cool for you to hang out with everyone.”

“Wait, you haven’t even properly met Jay and Sunghoon,” Chaehyun said as she nuzzled up to you, smiling. “Okay, I guess you have to go now.”

“I can meet them another time-”

“Oh yea, they’re nice. Jay’s really funny and easygoing. Sunghoon’s a bit cold but he’s just reserved.” Jake replied. “Y/N, I still think you should come.”

“I’ll think about it.” You nodded your head.

The two of you then said goodbye to Jake, walking towards the vendor who was selling kettle corn at the end of the other side of the market.

You had no clue how you went from an “I’ll think about it” to sitting on Yeonjun’s couch, in the middle of Jake and Chaehyun.

Your best friend was too busy talking to Heeseung enjoying their time together as Jay sat on the other end of Jake sipping their drinks.

You could barely hear what anyone was saying or process what was going on as the strobe lights took over the entire area and loud music blared from the speakers placed near the couch.

Everyone was busy doing their own thing and you on the other hand, just wanted to go home.

You had just met Jay and he seemed very sweet and polite. You guys talked for a little bit earlier in the kitchen as they poured their drinks into their cups. You found out how he was a Business major alongside Sunghoon while Jake majored in Chemical Engineering and Heeseung majored in Music Therapy.

The three of you rambled about how much work your classes assigned in the first week and how slumped you all were, already waiting for the summer. You got along with them pretty nicely and you wondered if you’d get along with the last person in Heeseung’s friend group which was Sunghoon.

Sunghoon was one of the quieter guys in Heeseung’s friend group. You've seen him a couple of times and how he rarely had a smile on his face. He was the one you’d hear the most stories of in your classes and amongst girls in your classes.

You heard of stories of girls trying their best to get closer to him or asking for his number or how some would even gift him chocolates as a confession. He would then decline each request, leaving many in heartbreak and some in embarrassment.

He seemed to be the opposite whenever it came to parties and larger functions. His walls would crumble down only to be rebuilt the day after.

You did not want to judge his character since you did not know him at all but he was distinguishable from his friends personality wise.

“Dang he must have drank on his own or something,” Jake mumbled, looking around for Sunghoon. He looked at his phone, seeing that the message he sent to Sunghoon was still left unread.

You stood up and looked down at your phone. Seeing it was almost 10 PM, you needed some fresh air knowing the party wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

You lightly tapped Chaehyun’s shoulder, trying to get her attention. “Chae, you said there was a rooftop here?”

“Oh yes, you need to see it, it’s pretty! Just press the 5th floor and go straight down the left hall and there should be the entrance.” Chaehyun replied trying to talk loudly over the blaring music.

“Also if you see Sunghoon there, do you mind texting Chaehyun to let us know, I have a feeling he may be there.” Jake asked you as you nodded your head.

You then walked out, saying a bit of loud “Excuse Me’s�� outside of Yeonjun’s apartment and towards the elevator in the middle of the floor.

Sunghoon lost count of how much he drank so far. He felt the flower petals start to grow in his lungs again. There was no one sitting by the balcony on the rooftop, it was just him and the alcohol keeping him company. He coughed a little as a few flower petals fell from his mouth.

He looked down towards the blue and purple petals. “Damn Forget Me Nots.” He whispered to himself.

As he shrugged off the flowers, he just sat and looked at the view of the city, sitting in one of the plastic chairs, trying to control his breathing.

Sunghoon was in a shitty mood, to say the least. Getting a call earlier today from his dad telling him to get over his disease and help his older brother with the family business was not what he wanted to wake up to. With his dad pestering him over an arranged marriage and possible “cures” to help him get “back on track with his life”,

Sunghoon was frustrated, wishing his dad would just stop.

He took another sip of the beer in his hands, feeling the wind blow its breeze lightly on his face.

You opened the entrance to the rooftop and sighed in awe. As the entrance was on the other side of where Sunghoon was sitting, you did not see him just yet.

You got your phone out of the pocket of your jacket and took pictures of the view. You took a deep breath, relieved of the fresh air. You felt suffocated, to say the least at the party and were finally happy to be alone for once.

The rooftop was decorated with hung lightbulbs in all four corners. You figured this was a spot people go to often to wind down and drink or have a midnight conversation at. It was decorated nicely, it was no wonder people liked to come up here.

You walked towards the other side of the rooftop to find someone sitting in a plastic chair alone. As you walk closer, you see a few bottles of beer with flower petals all over the area. You look in confusion, curious about where all the flower petals came from.

There were certainly no trees around unless this mysterious person was picking petals from flowers they brought up to the rooftop.

You then see Sunghoon sitting, staring at the view, sighing. As you took another step, he put down the bottle of beer he was drinking. You immediately text Chaehyun to tell Jake that Sunghoon is up on the rooftop.

“Jake, is that you?” Sunghoon asks softly with his back still turned towards the view.

“Oh, um, no.” You reply as you walk closer. “I was just here to get air.”

Sunghoon looked at you as he turned his head slightly. As you bend down, you pick up a blue flower petal and raise an eyebrow. “Forget-Me-Nots?”

“You-you know the petals of those flowers?”

“Yeah, actually they’re my favorite type of flowers.” You replied. “Where did you get so many of them to rip up these many petals?”

Sunghoon could not process what he was hearing. He just looked at you as you picked up some of the petals in awe. He did not reply, confused if he was hearing things correctly.

This was probably nothing but a small conversation, he thought to himself.

There is no way you would just show up in his life with the flowers that filled his lungs to be those favorite flowers of yours.

“Who hurt you?” You asked, looking up at him.

“It’s not a who it’s a what,” Sunghoon muttered as he looked back at the view, trying to deflect all the questions you asked.

You just looked at the petals in front of you, still in the same position. You picked up a petal, poking it with your finger, seeing it glisten under the lightbulbs that perched up above the both of you.

He then glanced back towards you who stood up, holding the petal in your hands.

You looked down at the petal in your hands and back up at Sunghoon, clicking your tongue. “It’s too bad you ripped them up. These flowers symbolize true love.”

Sunghoon started to feel his chest at ease. He held his chest a little, perplexed by this new still of calmness. He blinked his eyes quicker, thinking if his suspicions were just him unaware of what was going on at the moment. He put his hand down, sitting up a little. “Is that why you like those flowers?”

“Mhm.” You replied. “Oh, I’m Y/N by the way, Chaehyun’s best friend.”

As soon as Sunghoon was going to reply, Jake rushed in with Jay. The two looked a bit frazzled by the sight of the flower petals. You stepped back a bit as the two carried Sunghoon in their arms.

“Thanks, Y/N for letting Chaehyun know,” Jake said as he gently put Sunghoon’s left arm around him as Jay did for his right.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Tell Hee and Chaehyun we’re heading back to our apartment earlier. You’ll be okay here?” Jay asked.

You nodded your head, giving the boys a thumbs up. “No worries. Get home safely.”

Sunghoon felt too stunned as he turned his head back to you, feeling a bit defeated he didn’t properly introduce himself to you. He just kept his head down a little, feeling his chest start to tighten again.

As the boys bid farewell and walked back inside to the hallway, you glanced back at the sight in front of you.

You walked around the petals and glanced towards the view of the city in front of you. You slid the petal into your pocket, sighing. You then turned around and looked back at the rooftop, stunned by what just happened.

Sunghoon was the complete opposite of what you thought he would be.

And why did that intrigue you in the slightest bit?

prologue || 02

masterlist | main masterlist

© loveyhoons , 2024

[runningupthatvecna]

the law of seat partners | part 4

masterlist

a/n: so this is part four, probably the last and final part to bring this little something to an end. it's a bit of a dive into eddie's emotional state and self-esteem issues and it just might sting you a little reading. this whole story has honestly been a wild ride from start to finish and i want to thank every single one of you for giving it so much love! hope you enjoy this last part just as much, if not more. all i can say is that i poured my entire heart into this and it's my first time writing spice, so go easy on me please. my requests are, however, open in case anyone wants me to write more. for this, i'm planning a little sequel part, so keep an eye out for that if you like.

summary: after some intense flower crown binding and a few more intense days at the camp, things are finally getting real between you and eddie. you make him your prince and he makes you his own. read for yourself ;)

word count: 13,5k (lol don't ask i got carried away it seems)

warnings/tags: slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love kinda, not too detailed description of reader's appearance, very close physical closeness, sharing a bed, eddie being touch starved and a very wholesome and caring bean, mentions of eddie's dad being a piece of shit, lots of petnames, shitlots of fluff, a tad bit of angst, abandonment issues & performance anxiety, smut (minors go away!), softdom!eddie, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, a bit of edging if you squint, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, pulling out, basically just hot and steamy lovemaking filth. ok BYE

-----

Roses, magnolias, tulips, daisies, sunflowers, yarrows, peonies and lots of twigs with green leaves. For the base. To balance out the colours.

The day had finally come.

You placed the crown of flowers which you had spent an hour assembling and braiding and binding together on your head, intending to wear it with a sense of pride.

A sunflower as the yellow centerpiece, two light purple peonies on each side, some yarrow and white roses here and there.

You guessed that Jonathan would shoot another roll of film full today, measured by the enthusiasm he was displaying just now while directing the postures of the four of you, assigning you poses and giving you instructions on which way to turn so you would be lit in the best way possible.

Robin, Nancy, Max and you were stood in one line, and if it weren't for the fact that you found yourselves on the path leading from the cabins to the little square of the fireplace, surrounded by trees, the view of the lake in the background and framed by a row of tall pines, you would think you were posing for graduation photos.

It was a nice rehearsal, at least.

Anyone else except Will, Eddie and the photographer himself were busy occupying themselves elsewhere.

The younger Byers boy enthusiastically fumbling around with flowers for his own crown – the artist in his element –, Jonathan capturing your precious moments and Eddie, ... well Eddie was honestly just watching the four of you, admiring the scene and being grateful that no one had shoo'ed him away yet, because that meant he'd certainly have to get involved in the yoga-slash-stretching workshop Steve Harrington was trying to attend in the meantime.

Also he was wondering where you took the patience for your magnificent wonder of floral composition from, when he unsuccessfully tried to merely string a bunch of leafy twigs and yarrow together himself.

The teachers had made you all spent the majority of the day in the next bigger town, admiring the contents and exhibits of the local museum, dedicated to bring the regional history, geography specifics and culture closer to its visitors. And the only time the longhaired metalhead had left your side (under protest) was those two times you needed to use the women's restroom.

The younger middle school kids had been an absolute menace to the nerves of Mr Clarke all day, their lack of patience and ability to stay focused on the exhibits getting the best of him.

Eddie's presence made everything better though (for you at least) and the obnoxious children forgotten. You know that feeling when you're on a trip with your friends and your crush is there too and that fact just lifts your entire mood and whatever you guys are doing doesn't matter because they are there with you because their presence is solely enough to make your heart blossom?

Yeah. That.

"Come here", you sat down next to Eddie on the tree trunk that was laid flat to act as a bench, taking and trying to fix whatever attempt of a flower crown he was occupying his fingers with. You would guess that he'd be quite skilled with them as a guitarist, but seeing him drop stuff here and there with his tongue stuck out – a telltale sign that he was focussing super hard – also had you guessing that the skill of binding flower crowns and playing guitar were two different pairs of shoes.

Legs touching, you felt Eddie's gaze wander from the top of your knee over the skin on the plushness of your bare thighs up to the hem of your white flowy linen dress.

Oh, what they would feel like under his gentle touch.

His eyes paused their little journey on your hands, the softness of your skin, how you (just like him) always wore your rings, thin golden bands delicately adorning your index and middle fingers plus the one on your right thumb. He took in the tiny wrinkles stretched over your knuckles, the way your fingertips were readjusting the wire he sloppily had bound the twigs and stems together with, lightly brushing over the even softer petals of the flowers.

Secretly he wished they would lightly brush over his own hands too.

Brush over his neck, his hair, his cheeks, telling him that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him and that he could and would be accepted – and maybe even loved – just the way he was in his truest form.

As if you could be someone with the capability to show him just that. Convince his silly brain that he wasn't the fuck up his father made him believe to be. The unlovable freak his hometown condemned him as.

A feeling he was so desperately yearning for, deep down below the surface where usually no ray of light would ever reach the bottom.

Mainly because he wouldn't let the light through. The waves were and had just always been too high.

Gaze continuing its journey further up, lingering on your chest for a fleeting second, before scanning over the expanse of your neck.

Eddie mentally thanked Nancy for braiding your hair out of the way today.

He took in your jawline, the way your small and delicate earrings decorated the lobes of your ears, a small strand of hair on the side of your head separating your ear from your face, your nose which Eddie found to be very cute, a few freckles spread over the apples of your cheeks, eyes as deep as the ocean, currently focused on not cutting yourself on the garden scissors as clumsy as you could be, and then the pinkish red plushness of your rounded lips.

Eddie was certain they would feel like lying on a cloud in heaven against his own. Giving him a glimpse of something big and meaningful, and very very dear to him, something crawling through every vein of his body making the goosebumps erupt on his bare arms, something he craved to his core.

He wanted to touch. Needed to. More of you.

And he felt an all too familiar warmth spread through his abdomen, just like yesterday after the swimming, when his goodnight hug had ended up a bit too tightly for his own good, and he'd had to excuse himself awkwardly in order to take care of the semi slowly causing his damp shorts to become painfully tight.

He took in the way your eyes lit up and the corners of your mouth curled upwards at your successful fix of his poor attempt to impress you, watched you getting up and moving in front of him in a twirl, making the hem of your dress bounce a little.

Of course he noticed that. You were the pretty much only thing occupying the space in his brain.

The light was you.

"Now here you go, Prince of Metal", you chuckled as you placed the crown on his head softly, him blinking up at you through his thick black lashes with a wide smile that was forming on his face slowly at your affectionate gesture and – especially – the title.

It was very modest, just white yarrow and the green of the leaves, an analogy to Eddie's mindset of cherishing simplicity.

A "thank you, darling" escaped his chest in a low, soft tone right before he stood up, still grinning at you as if you had just told him you'd won the lottery. Or he'd won it.

He was certainly feeling like he had. You had done this, something nice, for him. It made his cheeks flush pink. A delightful addition to the white and green.

Jonathan had just finished taking a few close-ups of Max' half-heartedly composed circle of tulips and daisies, and when he noticed you and Eddie in the middle of half empty buckets of leftover flowers and the splutter of twigs and fallen petals, he wasted no time in calling you over to his makeshift photo set.

-----

For the rest of the trip, you couldn't help but think of Eddie's newfound interest in flower arrangements, the way he had selflessly fought with the stubborn wire and unruly twigs just to spend more time with you (and selflessly escape yoga with Steve).

The time at camp was almost coming to an end already. You had two nights left before the bus would roll up again, forcing you to leave the little serene oasis to take you home.

A whole bunch of polaroids was stacked up on your little nightstand by now, one of them showing you alongside the Prince of Metal, proudly posing with flower crown heads held high, and if you didn't know better you would say that the pose you both had taken made the impression of one of a royal couple. Eddie had put his hands on his hips, facing the camera diagonally, your back towards his chest in the same direction as him. Serious expressions, since you were royalty.

Another showed you in between Steve, Robin and Eddie on another hike, all of you well-lit by the bright sun, blue sky and vast lake with the deep green of trees in the background, on top of the hill you had attempted to climb on the first day. Robin was pulling a silly face, while Eddie poked his index finger into the dimple that always formed on Steve's cheek whenever he put on his toothy grin. And you? You were just looking, smiling, gazing at your seat partner.

More of them had been taken during further swimming activities, recreations of the acrobatic performance which Eddie and Max had displayed that first time in the lake, and since Jonathan knew how obsessed with photos you really were, he thought he might as well give you all the others he had taken.

For safekeeping.

Not to mention the one of Eddie and you on the bus.

And then, your personal favourite you had decided, showed Eddie in the white framed rectangle with closed eyes, his crown of flowers decorating the top of his head, the widest grin spread across his face.

He looked angelic.

You wished you could make a thousand copies of it and tape it to every single lamp post and throw it into every single mail box in all of Hawkins.

You wanted to look at it forever.

As you were lying there in the darkness of your shared cabin, you made a mental note to yourself to definitely pay Jonathan back for the film.

Eyes closed, you let your mind wander through all the memories you'd been making these past days. Not just with Prince Metal, but also with everyone else. It was nice and wholesome getting to spend time with the gang outside of Hawkins.

The very vivid memories of the past days flooded your brain. It was easy getting lost in them. So lost, that you audibly gasped as a light knock on the glass of the window pulled you out of conscious dreamland.

Practically shooting up from the mattress, you turned your head towards the window.

The more than familiar wild mane of your favourite Hawkins local satanist stood out from between the ends of the bushes growing beneath that window, and the person it belonged to was intently gesturing towards the wooden door of your cabin.

Eddie was wearing his signature grin when you rolled your eyes at him and the idea of sneaking around in the waking hour that was two in the night.

You mouthed a "fine" at him, nodding towards the door, before you silently tried to get up without triggering an avalanche of your roommates awaking.

The sight that offered itself to you as you crook open the cabin door was something you were certain you were going to burn into the core memories of your life.

Eddie Munson on the first of two steps in front of your door, the pathway with the other cabins in the background, in a black tank top, from the darkness you made the colours of his boxers out to be dark blue, his white sneakers but no socks. The scene in your periphery lit only by the low glow of the moon casting its reflection down onto him and his surroundings through the crowns of the pine trees.

A bunch of tattoos were visibly spread over his arms, guitar pick on a chain around his neck, curtained by his luscious curls. A messy bunch of random forest flowers and grass in his tight fist.

What on earth was he thinking he was doing out here? At this hour?

His expression told you.

"Hi", he almost whispered, a sly smile playing on his lips, eyes searching yours, stretching his arm straight and holding the makeshift flower bouquet out under your nose.

As if it was the most normal thing, showing up at someone's cabin in the middle of the night. In the woods. With random flowers he must have picked on the way here?

You snorted at his gesture and the incredible sweetness of it, it was making you blush hard and your heart combust in your ribcage at the thought of him even thinking of bringing you something. At him even being here right now. The innocence of it juxtaposing with his reputation back at home.

"Jesus Christ, what on earth are you doing out here?", you whispered back in the same tone, leaning in the doorframe in your usual sleep shirt and – of course, since you were surrounded by girls and you all were comfortable enough with each other – panties only.

Eddie took the next logical step, the one above the one he was currently standing on, getting closer to where you were leaning and recreating the usual height difference between you two.

"I can't fall asleep with Steve snoring", still in a hushed tone, and he paused before a small smile formed on his lips again, "and a bird just told me that the extension of the law, remember when I told you about that? Yeah, well, it got approved, so", he paused again, finding your eyes again with his best impression of a puppy, "could I maybe, you know uh, come in and be rescued from my eternal misery?"

You were very well aware that you'd be sent home immediately if anyone caught sight of you letting a male breathing creature past your doorstep, but since it was 2 am, it was also Eddie Munson gazing at you in the moonlight as if you were the most beautiful thing he ever had laid his eyes on, and you couldn't deny that you most definitely wanted this, the possible consequences of your little spontaneous rendezvous, nagging at your brain like alarm bells, were thrown overboard in an instant.

Grabbing one of Eddie's wrists, you pulled him towards you and inside, trying to close and lock the cabin door as silently as possible.

His presence alone and familiar warmth radiating from his body was already soothing the light rush of adrenaline in your veins from doing something that could get the both of you into quite the trouble, and it didn't take him long to take a step forward, moving his arm that you were still holding on to around you, so you were forced to turn your back towards him while his other snuck around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

He squeezed you to himself for a brief second, acting as a silent thank you, before he let go of you with a wide grin that you were only able to see thanks to the dim light of the moon flooding through the one window between the two bunks.

There was a small sparkle in his eye, a glint of serenity, comfort and endless affection. And relief. So much relief from how you were letting him in, weren't rejecting him like he was used to.

Peaceful breathing was filling the room, a light snore coming from the top bunk that wasn't above yours, and Eddie followed you.

You couldn't believe that you were about to share your small mattress and covers with the one guy you'd been harbouring feelings for over the time span of several months.

Eddie couldn't believe it either.

Mere seconds later, you found yourself caged in by the wall, the bed frame and Eddie's body.

It was the most natural thing. Everything fell into place, the way the two of you were lying there, facing each other, inhaling each others breaths from the close proximity, the covers draped over your bodies, hiding the details of Eddie sneaking an arm around your waist again to pull you impossibly closer, his hand carefully exploring more of the territory he already had started to discover on the bus, calloused yet somewhat soft fingertips almost ghosting up the warm skin over your bare spine.

"You're so pretty."

An inaudible whisper of admission.

You heard it.

An invasion of goosebumps spread over every inch of your skin like a wildfire.

Eddie felt it.

"So are you."

The arm you weren't lying on found its way up, tucking a wisp of his curls that had fallen over his now beet red cheek away behind his ear.

Neither of you wanted to ever stop smiling.

He moved his entire being down a little so his eyes were the same level with your jawline, a low hum escaping his throat at the tip of his nose brushing over the skin on your neck in an upward motion, just like that time in the lake.

It was beyond overwhelming to feel him this close. In your bed.

And for Eddie, feeling you this close was so much better than the countless times he had imagined this happening. He'd imagined what it would feel like, your light illuminating all of him.

You let him use your arm as a pillow, before he nuzzled his forehead against the same spot on your neck, his cheek lightly pressed against your clavicle.

And just when you thought you couldn't get physically closer to him than in this moment, bellies touching, legs wordlessly intertwined and all, he pulled you against him some more. Squeezed you tightly and tenderly, letting you know that this was right where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be.

And yeah, it felt quite right to you as well.

Your other arm that wasn't occupied by Eddie's head found its way around his torso, hand rubbing softly over the expanse of his back, and you wondered how much of muscle and softness your fingertips would be encountering if your hand would just cheekily sneak its way underneath his tank top.

Resting your cheek on Eddie's forehead, the warmth, the comfort of wrapping your arms around something to hold onto at night, his steady and satisfied breathing against your own, made you easily drift off into a deep slumber.

Eddie had already passed out the minute you had allowed him to rest his head in the crook of your neck and had draped your arm over him, encasing him in the embrace he so badly needed in order to find his own sleep.

You'd known him long enough to know that he cared about the few people in his life who hadn't let him down, he took care of people that took care of him.

And you wanted to take care of him. In every way you could and in every way he would let you.

Silence filled the single room, steady breaths being in- and exhaled, and you hoped no one had yet woken up to notice your charming little intruder existing in the sacred four walls of the flower cabin.

-----

A ray of sunlight made the shadows of tree leaves dance over the landscape of your face through the window.

You woke up from it, eyelids slowly blinking and then squinting shut again from the sudden invasion of too much light at once.

It took you a few seconds to realize where you were, namely in the small cabin that you were to call home for the week, with Max still snoozing in the bunk above you, a light snore still coming from Robin's side of the room, and Nancy having probably already left to go for her daily morning jog.

The weight of a semi-tattooed arm was resting on your torso diagonally like a seat belt, indicating that Eddie was even in his sleep very concerned for your safety. He had moved upwards, now a head above yours on your actual pillow and on his side, making his chest slowly rise and fall against your head.

It was peaceful, so peaceful waking up next to him, and it felt like the most natural thing. A very easy morning. As if this wasn't the first time ever.

You rubbed the back of your hand over your eye, the movement causing Eddie's hand to give the exposed skin over your waist, until where your shirt had ridden up, another gentle squeeze, making it known to you that he was, in fact, awake as well.

Craning your head towards the head of the bed, your still sleepy eyes found the warm brown of his for a moment, along with a wide stretched smile playing on his lips, dark stubble running down his cheeks and chin and neck before stopping halfway down, since he had forgotten to shave.

Eyelids fell shut again, but the smile stayed. Just for a moment longer, before he relaxed every muscle in his stupidly beautiful face, allowing your eyes to start their own journey of curious wandering.

You took in the way his nostrils flared a little whenever he exhaled, the tiny wrinkles on the outsides of his big doe eyes, a bunch of light freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks, the way they were being pushed up by the corners of his mouth whenever he gave you that smile, the slightly glowing softness of his skin generally, the way his wild unruly dark mane framed his face so perfectly, the way his cupid's bow sat on the plushness of his pink lips, ...

And oh, you were certain they would feel like lying on a cloud in heaven against your own.

You were also certain you were still dreaming, that this entire moment of Eddie knocking on your window and letting him into your bed and him lightly fanning your face with his breath right now was just a dream and you were about to wake up any second to the sound of pesky middle schoolers screaming their way from their cabins to the pergola where you'd usually have breakfast.

But no. This was real. Eddie was real. And he was just so pretty, lying there peacefully snoozing, the expanses of soft bellies still touching, and that wasn't because your mattress didn't stretch wide enough.

"Are you watching me sleeping?", Eddie mumbled, lightly flexing his jaw, eyes staying shut, the smile returning slowly.

If there wasn't a fire in your lower belly burning from all his touches and sweetness already, it damn certainly was now, ignited by the rasp in his low morning voice.

Oh Jesus Christ.

The absolute heat was spreading into two directions, using your heart as its origin. Once again your cheeks heated up, and you felt your thighs clench together involuntarily at the way in which he said those words.

"What if I was?", you mumbled back in a similar tone, trying your best to not let on too much about the effect he was having on you.

Eddie's eyebrows disappeared behind his frizzy bangs. Still refusing to open his eyes.

"Then I'd say you're being a little creep."

He let out a low chuckle while pulling you into his embrace, savouring the moment of having you this close once more and letting you know for certain that he was just joking.

"Pfff, says the guy who literally creeps around my cabin at two in the night."

You could not for the life of you recall a time when his face ever was closer to yours than it was right now, noses almost touching.

"Hey, that was a necessity. We only obeyed the law and I am eternally grateful for your gracious salvation from me meeting my impending doom."

The underlying layer of heaviness of his words was disregarded for now, since you wanted to desperately keep the bliss that came with being so close around him for just a moment longer.

Eddie made you feel like you were the most important person in the entire world, mainly due to his ever prominent abandonment issues. Meaning he never once had really left your side during the entirety of this trip (except for when you had to use the bathroom and, well, sleep – until now), always making sure you were taken care of.

It melted you.

And you didn't mind his clinginess at all. Male validation wasn't something you had to run from in order to save yourself from drowning in it. The opposite was more of the case, you were soaking it up like the roots of a flower that hadn't seen rain in years.

Oh wait, flowers decay at some point if they don't get watered? Well, yeah. You'd almost been there at some point in the past.

"You're such a dork", you remarked his theatrics with a chuckle, before burying your face in the crook of his neck, cheek pressed to his clavicle and nose dipping into the soft skin where neck and shoulder met, "but a very cute one."

A hint of shyness overcame you.

Awaiting his reaction was unbearable.

Eddie's cheeks flushed a bright red at your admission and the fact that you were so very obviously trying to hide your fluster between his shoulder and neck? You going all sweetly shy on him simply made his brain short circuit.

Did you just call him cute?

While your – your – lips (!!!) were so close to his skin, barely brushing over one of his sensitive spots?

No, Eddie Munson was almost certain he was still in dreamland.

Only now he dared to open his eyes, just to make sure he hadn't dreamt the sneaking-into-your-cabin-last-night part either, and let out a sigh at the conscious feeling of your skin that had collided with his palm, your nose at his pulse point, hair tickling his chin.

Then, the realization of that meaning behind your latest words kicked in.

Meanwhile, you didn't dare to lift your head to see his reaction for yourself.

He made you feel it though, when a boost of confidence helped one of his hands find a home on one of your butt cheeks, the arm which your head was still resting on wrapping around your shoulder so his arms were fully engulfing your figure, and his own head dipped down to where your neck was slightly craned.

Tip of the nose brushing up along the expanse of your neck in a singular swift motion of his head, since he already had found out a while ago that you didn't dislike that one, and then?

Then he buried his nose in the hair coming down behind your ear, while his lips slowly, almost carefully placed a peck to where your jaw met your neck, followed by another low hum at the feeling of you not backing away. Of you staying with him.

At first you weren't so sure if you had registered that correctly, but at the same time, judging from the way you could feel a familiar warmth pool between your legs, you were pretty sure he'd just kissed your neck.

Neckneckneck.

Thank fuck he couldn't see the way your eyes were rolling into the back of your skull at the sensation of his warm lips on your warmer skin.

Months over months of yearning for him, for this, for lying in his tight embrace, against the warmth of his body, longing glances you had directed at him, his innocent arm around your shoulder practically burning through whatever shirt you were wearing on those days, the now occurring realization that his sly remarks and jokes had literally been his way of subtly flirting with you, painting all his glances that had been thrown back at you in a similarly wistful light.

It was all so much at once, yet you already couldn't possibly get enough of him.

You nuzzled closer (if that was even physically possible), your arm squished between your bodies, the arm you weren't lying on wrapped around his torso, hand still underneath his tank top, running your fingertips along the smooth skin over his spine.

Giving back.

A nice concept.

A little less shy now, still cautious though, your lips pressed against the slightly stubbly side of his neck as you craned your head further up.

Eddie couldn't believe his fucking luck.

"Mhm, baby."

His almost whispering voice didn't have to travel far from how close his lips were to your ear. Because they still were lingering on your neck, where he countered your admission with another chaste kiss, trying not to overwhelm you.

It was too much. You couldn't take it any longer.

Lifting your head away from his skin, the warmth radiating from his neck engulfing your face, you softly dropped the weight back on Eddie's arm.

A wide smile decorated his face, letting you know that everything was alright with you and him in his book, and in his big brown chocolate orbs you only found affection.

You hoped he could spot the same in yours.

Oh, a surge of confidence erupted inside of you.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?"

Eddie's fingers occupied themselves with a soft dig into the plushy flesh of your ass, while the smile dancing on his lips slowly turned into a cheeky grin, dimples denting his skin adorably, and his other hand craned around your head, thumb bending far enough to run the length of it down your cheek.

"Mhm, darling. Why do you think I've been touching you this entire time?"

Without another moment of hesitation you closed the distance between your faces, lips colliding with his own in the softest way.

You both were now lying on a cloud in heaven.

It was passionate from the beginning, yet not too wild, a fuzzy feeling of warmth spreading through your entire system at the sensation.

The low hums that Eddie let out at the feeling of your lips softly moving against his own was sending your sense of time and space into the void, and the fact that you initiated this was making his head spin like the ceiling fans in Hawkins High's cafeteria.

Slow slow slow movements, your hands wandered up to cup his cheeks, while he pulled your hips impossibly closer to his own, humming against the endless softness of your lips dancing over his.

Each kiss lasted for a few seconds, it was like you were both trying so hard to feel every line and ridge and texture of each other, and also neither of you seem to waste a single care in the world about hurrying up.

"Oh lord Jesus Christ!", Robin's loud voice ripped you out of your little trance as it went echoing through the room.

Right, you almost forgot you weren't existing in your cabin all by your twosomeness.

Despite being caught in the act by just a mutual friend of yours (and not Ms Kelley), the metalhead and you still broke apart hastily.

A hint of panic overcame Eddie at the sudden intrusion, making him let go of you, grabbing the pillow underneath his head and shoving it into the now existent gap in between your bodies, since you had discarded the sheets a while ago. Why need a blanket if you have a perfectly functioning Eddie Munson to keep you warm at night?

It surprised you that he didn't fall off the bed entirely with how close to the edge of it he now was.

A relieved sigh escaped his lungs when he realised who really caught him stealing affectionate gestures from you.

Ms Robin Buckley had no problem with the both of you, she just wasn't expecting to find Eddie lying in your bed (slowly kissing you into oblivion) in her periphery while she was digging for her bathroom utensils so she could make sure she'd look less like a corpse for breakfast.

With "whatever this is, I didn't see it" and a loud open and close of the door, she excused herself, leaving you in your solitude.

With Max Mayfield. In the top bunk above you two, which she loudly made you remember as soon as Eddie got up to follow Robin's trace outside with a quick "uh, see you in a bit, sweetness", still clutching your pillow over his front while waddling his way over to the safety of his own cabin in which Dustin was probably still snoring into the next millenium.

"Soooo, what did I just wake up to? Hm?", you heard Max say with the most curious undertone after the door closed behind Eddie, as you rolled onto your back, already finding the emptiness and lack of warmth caused by Prince Metal's exit rather unpleasant.

Your only response was a groan as you pulled the sheets up and all the way over your head.

The pathetic attempt to hide wasn't meant as a long-term solution since your lungs unfortunately started craving oxygen at some point.

"Go away!"

It came out more as a mumble than a yell, mainly due to the muffling effect of the layer of fabric between your head and Max' ears, and as you pulled your head out from under the blanket covering your entire figure only to see Max' head poking out from the bunk above you, her long red mane dangling down towards the ground, you felt the heat rushing to your cheeks.

You had kinda seen it coming already, the struggle with having to explain yourself in the morning when your roommates would find Eddie snoozing peacefully in your arms.

But now it really hit.

You had just slept next to him. Literally kissed your crush. Who wasn't really a crush anymore. To you, Eddie was a lot more than that already.

Max just giggled at your response, jumping out of her bunk and continuing her teasing for the rest of the morning.

Well, at least until you joined the rest of the gang for breakfast.

Today was your last full day, and that meant going on another sweaty (yet beautiful) hike, a heated and intense capture the flag session in which Eddie didn't leave your side once, claiming that as your seat partner he also had the obligation to protect you from potentially evil forest spirits, and you also filled out the day by attending a cooking workshop, pairing up with Nancy.

Eddie – having to detach his everlingering hand on some part of your body throughout the day now – spent time with Max, Dustin and Steve, still successfully avoiding being dragged to the yoga session by the latter.

You guessed they were attending a class about forest herbs and survival tipps, an absolute necessity should they ever get lost in the vastness of a random national park one day.

Peeling potatoes at the counter of the outdoor kitchen, you peered over to the pathway as the group of students including your friends walked past, trying to spot your favourite out of them.

Eddie found your longing glance and returned it, along with the widest grin and a little bashful wave of his ringed hand.

You felt your heart jump at the vision, absentmindedly waving back with the hand that held the potato by two fingers, smiling like the most lovedrunk idiot.

The moment was fleeting, because he collided mere milliseconds later with Dustin's backside, giving the kid a gentle slap on the back of his head for stopping unexpectedly just to inspect the shape of a leaf from the tree next to him, making him look silly and like a total dork in front of you.

Your smile turned into a full on giggle when Eddie gave you a sheepishly yearning last look before the little gathering lead by Mr Clarke continued on the pathway, leading further into the forest and out of your periphery.

God, you loved him.

The day in its entirety was peaceful despite the doom of having to pack up and make sure not to forget anything that might have slipped underneath the beds. You were supposed to leave early in the morning just to be back in Hawkins before nightfall.

Even though you were growing tired of mosquito bites and flies viewing your meals as theirs, you couldn't be bothered to come up with feelings of homesickness. Not when you were surrounded by your loving friend group, Prince Metal and the serene oasis in the forest.

-----

The sun was about to set, casting a golden glow over the crowns of the pine trees swallowing the camp, light breezes of wind making the arms and twigs of the more leafy trees rustle softly every now and then.

Eddie got up from the couch he was lounging on, taking a semi nap in the presence of Dustin, Max and Jonathan after the intense workshop and stuffing himself at the surprisingly rich buffet your teachers had organised for your last evening.

He'd been subtly eyeing you from underneath the tall pergola, chatting and laughing with Steve and Robin by the bonfire which was already rising tall into the sky in the clearing of trees between pergola and pathway to the cabins.

The perfect way your clothes hugged your curves, the thin fabric of your shirt and adding its absolute nothing to hide the hardness of your nipples (also maybe due to you not finding it necessary to wear a bra), the stunning way your hair was shining in the start of golden hour, face illuminated by the fire in front of you, the enchanting way you curled your lips at a joke Steve had made (he even felt a tinge of jealousy creep into the center of his stomach), the entirely dazzling way your shirt had ridden up a little, showing skin between the waistband of your shorts and the hem of it.

And it was giving him ideas.

To anyone else these little things and details didn't seem too worthy to pay attention to, but Eddie noticed. He noticed you stealing wistful glances, making their way over to him here and there (and after the night he had, he was sure they weren't meant for Dustin), he noticed every inch of your skin that would unintentionally reveal itself to him from the ways in which you moved, he noticed the way your smile changed into something so astonishing when directed at him. Special.

You never looked at Steve like that. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Being as chronically touch starved as a metalhead outcast town freak could be, Eddie decided that it was too much. He couldn't not be near you any longer.

Your breath hitched in your throat just as you saw him get up and make his way over to you, a mix of confidence and shyness combined in his strut, before he came to a stop at the end of the log you were seated on, right next to your side.

"M'lady? May I ask her grace to walk with me?", you heard his voice say softly, a distinctly hopeful tone, warm and filled with the bashfulness from earlier in the day. Eddie met your smile with one equally wide.

A hand with ringed fingers was held out to you and you took it.

He lead you away from the group, away from everyone else, down the path towards the cabins where no one was at this hour, after he had intertwined your fingers with his own, the metal of his rings giving your fingers a little extra squeeze.

"It's nice to be sitting with the others and all, and I really enjoyed Dustin's ideas for Hellfire's next campaign, but", Eddie paused as he came to a still in his walk down to where your sleeping quarters were located, turning around to face you as his hand refused to let go of yours, right before continuing in the softest voice, barely audible, "I was hoping we could just leave them for a bit and enjoy the last evening a little more .. in private?"

Eddie leaned in a little closer with every word jumping over his lips.

Until he was inches away from yours, finding your eyes and you noticed the slight change of tone in the warm brown ocean of his. It had turned a shade or two darker as you reciprocated his beguiling gaze.

Oh, how easy it was for you to get entirely lost in it.

"I think that's an intriguing idea, Eddie", you replied with a smile, hoping he'd see and sense the same thing in your own eyes that was so clearly reflected in his. For you and for this reason, it was never difficult to look into them for long. Especially when he was so intently watching you.

A hand snuck around your waist, pulling you closer so your bellies would touch, the hand previously attached to yours now cupping your cheek, thumb softly running over the apple of it, head leaning in even further. Eddie's gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips and back in a matter of seconds, letting you know exactly what he was about to do.

Your hands found the little hairs at the nape of his neck, curling around the sides of it, lightly pulling as the plushness of his lips reunited with yours.

He hummed at the feeling, the moment filled with so much familiarity already. Without breaking contact, he gently cupped the other side of your face with his other hand, holding you there, needing you there.

Ever so softly, your lips moved against his, a moment you wished would last forever.

"I've been thinking about you all day", he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck as he wrapped his arms around you, lips landing on your pulse point. Breathing warmly against the skin there as he mumbled something along the lines of "they kept me away from my cute seat partner for way too long" before letting out a warm chuckle.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, still getting flustered by the directness of his flirting attempts. They were effective though, because you couldn't help but squeeze the back of his neck lightly with one hand while your other sneaked around his waist and underneath the hem of his shirt, reconnecting with its favourite place, the warmth and softness of skin on Eddie's back.

"It is an incredible atrocity indeed", you said with a giggle, making him raise his head back to face you, and the spark in his eyes gave you enough of a confidence rush, "I think we should make up for lost time then."

Waisting not a second longer, Eddie grabbed your hand again, and before you knew it, he had you affectionately pressed between the inside of his cabin's door and his body in a whimpering mess.

His kisses were getting hungrier, more demanding, yet there was a gentleness to it that let you know that you could stop this any second if you didn't want it.

"Is this okay, baby? We don't have to do anything if you don't want–", he asked in between sloppy pecks over your cheeks, jaw, down your neck that made you giggle lightly at his manners. It's not like his hands were all over you already, yet he was wondering if anything he was doing was alright with you.

"I can't get enough of you if I'm honest", you cut him off quietly, feeling the heat pooling in your underwear from the sensation of just about everything right now.

You were very well aware of the thing you were about to do. Crossing a line that could never be uncrossed, letting Eddie see you for all that you were, and giving him the freedom to choose.

Spoiler – he chose you.

Had done so since the moment you stepped onto the bus on that parking lot back home.

"Fuck, sweetness, you can't just say stuff like that", Eddie's voice came out huskily, he clearly was getting worked up over your response to his actions since he had you pinned to the door by the hips, his thigh in between yours, while his fingertips explored the skin of your waist underneath your shirt, lips still hovering over the expanse of your neck, brushing his nose upwards along the column of it, but this time a lot more slowly than the previous times.

He seemed to want to savour every single second he was granted access to your body like this, dragging each movement out as far as possible.

His wide, dark brown doe eyes returned to yours as he exhaled, "and expect me to be normal about it."

You didn't waste another second without your lips on his, pulling him back towards you by the chain which was holding his favourite guitar pick around his neck, eliciting a moan against your mouth out of him.

The only thing on Eddie's mind was you you you, the warmth of your perfect skin under his palms, the feeling of your pretty pink lips against his own, even the smell of you alluring him to no end.

Breaking away to catch your breath with eyes still closed, your lips curled into a smile when Eddie's hands wandered higher and higher while leaving goosebumps on the way, thumbs softly catching the underside of your tits, making you let out a content little sigh, as if his hands had just found their home, belonging right there.

His lips reunited with the skin on your neck, a moan escaping them as his thumbs reached your hard nipples, your neck vibrating lightly against his mouth when a moan of your own forced itself out of your lungs and your back arched away from the door for a second.

It had been a long time since anyone had touched you there, never in this way before though, which amplified every little touch Eddie practically worshipped you with.

A shudder ripped through you at the overwhelming sensation, it made you dizzy with want.

"It's so fucking hot when you twitch under my touch", Eddie almost whispered against your neck, and you were certain his voice couldn't drop any lower as he slowly rolled one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger, before raising his head just to watch your reaction even more closely.

"Yeah?"

His actions made you swallow hard, well aware of being at his mercy at the moment.

And yes, Eddie Munson continued the torture he was teasing you with.

"Yeah baby", he lightly poked his nose into your cheek for a second, "so what if I told you", he paused again, then kissed the corner of your mouth, "that I actually felt those little twitches", he tenderly kissed his way down over your cheek to your jaw, "throughout the whole week?"

One of his hands now left your chest, only to drop south.

He made it his mission to find out exactly what you liked. Find out what did it for you, what you wanted from him. What you needed from him.

"I'm curious to know what would happen if I touched you", he paused, lips millimeters away from the skin right beneath your ear, "here?"

A hand snaked around your figure, cupping one of your buttcheeks, the need for you heavily evident in the urgency of the touch.

You responded with another moan through closed lips, eyes closed, your hands finding the back of Eddie's neck again, lightly caressing his skin and tugging at the baby hairs there.

"Yeah, you like that baby, don't you? When I touch you here?"

A light spank.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded with a hum and another moan, cheek rubbing slowly and gently against his scruffy own as your hips involuntarily bucked up against his thigh.

Every movement was slow and gentle right now, yet heavy with hunger for each other.

Eddie noticed. Yet, he decided to take his sweeeeet time and drive you insane just a little longer.

"What about", he paused again, and you felt him smile against your neck as his hand still cupping your chest started kneading a little, rolling the nipple harder just to make sure you actually felt it, "here?"

The back of your head landed against the door with a thud as you moaned and whimpered a little louder this time, the shiteating grin on Eddie's face widening even more, obviously taking pride in his effects on you.

"You're making such pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Would you maybe also like me to touch you", another pause, in which he moved his hand around your hips, boldly cupping the space between your legs through the thinness of your shorts, "here?"

His breath was tickling the skin on your neck, the last word nothing more than an almost inaudible whisper, traveling all the way down from your jaw to your collarbone.

"Fuck, Eddie", you whimpered out his name, completely lost in him, moving your own hands downtown to where his hellfire shirt was tucked into the waistband of his light blue jeans, just when you suddenly remembered you had a pair of your own.

Hearing you say his name made Eddie shamelessly buck his hips into yours, failing pathetically at hiding the fact that what he was doing to you was also more than enjoyable for him, since you could clearly make out the heavy bulge straining against his pants, pressed against your hip.

"Mhm yeah, such a good girl for me", Eddie chuckled watching you for another second before reuniting your lips with his own, this time with a force of need, almost greedily taking your lower lip between his own for a second, swiping his tongue along, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

From slow and gentle to a feverish fumble of hands everywhere, it didn't take the both of you long to start freeing each other from the confines of your clothes.

Eddie had lifted your shirt off of you, finally freeing what he'd been dying to get his eyes (and hands) on, and you'd done the same to him, only to take a second to admire the few more tattoos that had until now been hiding from your gaze.

You noticed he was holding his breath, wild mane falling into the sides of his face from your ruffling during heated kisses, and the room suddenly felt a lot warmer.

The only thought in your mind was Eddie in front of you, just a small step away, now in nothing but his boxers, looking at you with an intensity you'd never seen before in him, and your fingers twitched with the desire to just touch.

You had run your hand just over the buckle of his handcuff belt, the movement of his pants against his erection already making him hiss a little. You'd run it over the fabric of the black jeans he was wearing, right where he wanted you most.

Because yeah, you could do that, too.

Eddie had found the pace in which you'd opened his belt to be way too slow, but he'd let you go with it anyway, being so lost in you and so lovedrunk (and straight up horny) that he hadn't dared to intervene.

Your slowness-slash-hesitation had a reason. The anxiety and intrusive thoughts of not being good enough, being too inexperienced decided to jump out of its dark corner inside your brain in just the right moment, causing you to back away from him, giving him a second to have his gaze wander over you.

It wasn't that you'd never done this before, there had been a guy you'd more or less been with, but this right here and now was just so different. More serious? Eddie wasn't just a guy. He was your Eddie at this point.

And however this trip would end, things would inevitably be changed between the two of you. And ultimately affect the dynamics of your friend group.

Eddie was a sensitive person. He was able to read the room, sense your hesitation. He closed the gap between you, his hand landing on your hip, bellies touching, hardness pressing against your thigh.

"Everything alright, darling?"

Cupping your cheek with his free hand, he tilted his head to find your eyes, the look in his filled with concern now, wondering if this was still okay for you.

Your arms snaked around his torso, fingertips lingering on his waist. He felt them burn through his skin.

A train of seemingly endless thoughts ran through your head, not knowing how to proceed from your lack of having done this enough times to just know, paired with the expectations you believed Eddie to have of this situation, and therefore, of you.

"Yeah, yeah", you assured him. The last thing you wanted was for him to believe he'd done anything wrong.

"It's just that", you paused, struggling to find the words to explain yourself and the rise of your performance anxiety while trying your best to avoid his puppy doe eye gaze, "I haven't really–"

A warm thumb on your lips cut you off, its hand directing your face towards his, the hand on your hip now lightly digging into the flesh there.

"I know baby, I know", Eddie said, referring to his wisdom with unknown origin to you, exhaling deeply before pressing an open mouthed kiss to your plush cheek, the gesture intending to let you know that you could be utterly honest and vulnerable with him. "Would you like me to show you", another pause, his gaze back on your face, thumb now lightly pulling down your lower lip, "what I like?"

Opening your mouth as a response, the tip of your tongue was briefly met with the tip of Eddie's thumb, causing him to twitch lightly and let out a groan through closed lips.

Everything you did and everything you were in your essence was driving him to the edge of insanity, not surprising after the months and months of thirsting after you in his desperate silence.

And his gentleness with you was making the dark imposter syndrome clouds in your head melt away like Lindor chocolate in mild temperatures.

His eyes bored into yours intently as you stuck your tongue out to meet the base of his thumb, just to drag it all the way up to the tip, before closing your lips around it and suck lightly.

"Mhhm, fuck", you heard him mutter, the effect your actions seemed to have on him giving you enough confidence to let his thumb go with a small pop, your hands still lingering on his waist pushing him a step away from you so you'd have enough space to drop to your knees, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them towards gravity to finally free him.

With precum leaking from the tip, you took a second to admire Eddie's girth and length with wide eyes, and it made your mouth water and your panties even more soaked than they already were.

Taking him in your hand, you smeared the precum down to the base where a light thatch of dark curls sat, leading up to his happy trail which you'd already gotten to lay sight on on the bus, and that time frankly hadn't been the first of you imagining what the place to where that trail was leading looked like.

Leaning upwards, you kept ahold of him, kissing the soft skin of his lower belly right above his curls as his hand buried itself in your hair at the back of your head, letting out a guttural moan when you let your tongue run through the tiny hairs leading up to his navel, just to kiss your way back down again, slowly, gently, all the way over the soft expanse, taking another second to bury your nose in his skin, inhaling everything he was willing to offer you.

He was about to ask you if you could pinch him just to make sure this was reality happening right in front of him, you kneeling all pretty with your hand wrapped around his cock, now slowly lifting it and flattening your tongue at the base to lick a broad stripe up along the underside, making you feel each little vein on the way to his pink tip.

"Jesus, fuuuck, that's it baby", you just heard him encourage you, indeed letting you know what he liked, his grip on your hair tightening lightly.

The fact that you could feel him throb and twitch and hear him whimper slurred renditions of your name alongside small curses gave you a significant ego boost, causing you to find enough confidence to lock eyes with him from underneath your lashes.

"Fuck, and you were worried that you wouldn't be good at this?", Eddie chuckled as he looked down at you in disbelief, his free hand not tangled up in the strands of hair cupping your cheek to affectionately brush his thumb over it, unable to ever get the image in front of him out of his brain.

"Fucking hell, you're being soooo good for me baby, oh my god, yeah, just like that", he mumbled when you started swirling your tongue around the head, softly rubbing the tip of it over the underside every now and then, until you decided to close your lips around him, letting him feel your wet warmth.

It gave Eddie a great idea of a similar place he was dying to discover. Itching.

And it took every little ounce of willpower in him to keep his hips away from giving into the urge to thrust his entire length into the confines of your mouth, so out of respect for you, he channelled his impulses into a symphony of soft moans, quiet mutters of oh, fuck and oh my god, and whimpers of your name as you took him deeper with every bob of your head.

Every little sound escaping him only turned you on even more. You couldn't possibly get enough of seeing him all blissed out and soft for you like this, causing the vibrations of your own moans to make Eddie shudder.

However, he didn't give himself too much time to enjoy the feeling of your mouth taking him, since he was already bending down a little to lift you back up to your feet, before capturing your lips in a hot and heavy kiss while pulling you tightly into his embrace, both of his hands sliding down from your lower back and underneath the fabric of your panties, just to end their journey on your ass and roughly pull you against him.

"I'm gonna cum on the spot if you keep doing that", he'd declared, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your neck, nibbling softly at the skin, making your cheeks flush with heat.

No one had ever said that to you.

You winced at the roller coaster he put you on, his back and forth between rough and demanding and gentle and soft, but you were eating it up.

He was hypnotizing you with every touch and every grunt and every move you felt against your lips.

Not even when the backs of your knees hit the bed frame did he let go of you, resulting in him burying you into his mattress under his weight, commented with a giggle from the both of you.

Moving to your side, he reconnected his lips to your neck and you craned your head up, giving him better access while one of his hands slowly moved around to your front, cupping you through your panties, his middle finger lightly pressing into that very damp spot in the fabric, eliciting a moan out of you.

It was his turn now.

"Wanna make you feel good too, sweetness. Gonna let me, yeah?", his sultry voice didn't even wait for a response, impatient fingers moving the lace to the side before running the middle through your folds, tip of it catching your clit briefly.

"Oh fuck yes!" There it was. You breathed the words out in a whiny tone, your hand reaching down to give his still rock hard cock a few sloppy strokes in return, earning another soft moan against the junction of your jaw meeting your throat.

If the situation wasn't this hot, if Eddie's finger didn't make the room spin, you think you'd be embarrassed to no end with how pathetic your moans were sounding, but the pleasure you were experiencing and the metalhead's tender endearments you were receiving just didn't leave any space for any other feeling.

You just couldn't bring yourself to care.

Eddie didn't care either. In fact, he was bathing in your responsiveness, feeling every single one of your touches in the endings of his tiniest nerve branches. Being the touch starved, crucified town freak and all.

Your neediness for him made his insides turn and his head spin, he was still having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that you'd let him come this close and do this to you, and your cute little whimpers made him want to give you everything you'd ever silently (or not so silently) request from him.

He felt this entire moment after moment to be a haze, a fever dream he'd wake up from at some point, and for this reason, he didn't waste a single thought on anything else but you.

How infatuated with you he was.

"Mhhm fuck, so needy for me baby, aren't you?", he remarked the way you were bucking your hips against his hand, "drives me fucking nuts."

He lifted his head just so he could watch the way your face crinkled with every slow up-and-down stroke of his finger, gathering your evident arousal on the way before gently pushing it in, indulging the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head for just a second before they opened and found the warm deep dark brown of his own.

"Mhh yes Eddie, need you so bad", you managed to get out as he added his ring finger, stretching you open a bit more under slick sounds of his hand against your cunt.

His face was so close. So close that if you turned your head just a little, your kiss swollen lips could be back on his, giving him one more confirmation that the way his fingers were curling inside of you were doing just the right job. In fact, he was finding spots you could only dream to reach on your own.

You felt more precum leak from the tip of his cock which was resting against your thigh, the slow rut of his hips against yours smearing it between your bodies, causing your brain to short-circuit at the realisation that it was you being the reason for him to act this way.

Only making you spread your legs wider.

"God baby, you're so fucking wet", he trailed off, continuing to slowly fuck his two fingers into your tight entrance, completely enticed with the way you were giving yourself to him, "is that all because of me?"

He just needed to hear you say it.

"Mhh fuck yes Eddie, all for you. For you only."

No idea how you got that out, with the way his fingers felt and the way he was looking at you, all lovedrunk and ready to give you the world.

"You gonna let me have a taste?"

Pulling his hand away and leaving you empty under a protesting whimper, he sucked the two fingers into his mouth, moaning against them without breaking eye contact and it was driving you mad. You nodded with a dazed smile.

He got up just to drop his weight between your legs, spreading them by planting his palms on the backs of your thighs firmly and pushing them up, panties still to the side.

You held your legs there when he moved his hands down, taking both thumbs to open you up for him, taking just a second to get his first actual look at your pussy and watch it glisten in the dim light of the sun casting its last rays of the day through the denseness of trees and into the room.

Eddie had fantasized plenty for literal months about the way you'd possibly look, but nothing prepared him for the actual sight in front of him.

It made you feel the most vulnerable you'd ever felt, letting him see and touch you this way, yet there was a naturalness to it that made it just so easy to give yourself to him.

Building trust with him seemed to be the easiest thing for you. Surprising yourself there, aren't ya?

And when his tongue shyly took its first swirl around your clit? Nothing was ever easier than Eddie.

Waves of pleasure took over your brain with every lap of his mouth, taking you between his lips, licking, sucking, swirling, slurping, making your thighs twitch with every single one of his moves, and he was (quite literally) eating your responsiveness up, each of his moans against the most sensitive part of your body becoming deeper in sound.

He noticed he could cum just from tasting you as he found his hips inconsistently humping the mattress, hearing your sweet chants as one of your hands found its way back into his unruly mane, encouraging him further in his actions.

"Fuuuck baby, I need you. Need all of you, please?", you whimpered just when the heat in your lower stomach was about to reach its peak, raising your head as your eyes encountered the way he was watching you from underneath his bangs sticking to his forehead, the hand not entangled in his hair busy fisting his bedsheets.

That was the only thing he needed to hear.

You could feel him smile, continuing to do so as he pushed himself up on his knees and crawling a few inches forward to be eye to eye hovering over you, chin, lips and tip of his nose glistening with your juices, the ends of his dark curls tickling your cheeks. He helped you wriggle out of your panties swiftly, discarding them on the cabin floor to join the rest of your clothes, hands resting on the softness of your thighs as he knelt back to sit on his heels.

He felt his dick twitch between his legs, seeing you lying and spread out underneath in front of him, in all your glory, ready to let him take you where you wanted to be most.

The vision tugging at his heartstrings, knowing how much trust you were instilling in him in order for you to let him go this far with you.

"Eddie, please."

You pushed yourself up to meet his lips, planting one hand on the back of his neck, the other hooked a finger into the chain dangling down like a collar, and without breaking away you pulled him back down with you.

"Yeah? Wanna feel me fill your pretty little pussy?", he breathed out, hands back on your thighs, digging into their plushness.

You believed to hear Eddie's voice to drop an octave, now leaning back again to let the underside of his cock slowly glide through your soaked folds, the head catching on your clit deliciously, making your head spin from having him do this to you.

"God, yes", you moaned out, watching him through heavy eyelids.

Eddie smiled his dimpled smile down at your face, reveling in the sight as he let the tip breach your sopping entrance, giving him an idea of how tightly his cock would be sitting inside of you.

His eyes were fixated on the spot where your bodies were now joined, slowly pushing another inch in as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him closer.

"Eyes on me, baby", Eddie mouthed at your jawline as he leaned back down to place a quick kiss there, right when he noticed you zoning out, focusing on taking him as best as you possibly could.

Once again your eyes found the warm gaze he was observing your every move with, and soon you felt his lips back on your own, kissing you softly as he slowly pushed all the way in, forcing a gasp out of your lungs at the feeling of utter fullness.

For a moment, the world stopped.

Eddie blinked at you through half-lidded eyes now, nudging his nose against your own before capturing your lips in another heated kiss, sending both of your tongues dancing and a moan from the pit of his lungs vibrated through your system.

Your hands moved up to cup his face, holding him close to you as his trailed up the underside of your thighs, before pushing your knees towards your chest, practically bending you in half and slowly starting to move his hips against your own when he felt you adjust to him.

"Oh fuck, fuuuck you're so tight", Eddie sighed, eyes falling shut at the feeling of your cunt sucking him in like that, and his words ringing through your ears, and hearing him admit to you what you were making him feel? It made you clench around him briefly, goosebumps spread over every inch of your body at the words forming on his tongue.

You were just so warm and wet and soft and so so tight, completely fucked out for him and him only.

"Eyes on me, baby", you repeated his own words back to him with a smile and glassy eyes, completely stunned to feel him like this, slowly filling and leaving you again.

Opening his eyes again to meet your gaze, his lips curled into a wide smile at your sentiment, "gonna be soft with you, unless you want me not to be, yeah?", he leaned down to plant a kiss on the corner of your mouth, forearms now resting on each side of your head, before his last words were nuzzled against your ear, "just tell me, sweetnose."

With his announcement he gave you a few more slow and gentle thrusts, getting both of you used to the feeling, before he moved back up again, holding your thighs spread out against your chest, his eyes glued to where his heavy cock slid in and out of your sopping slick hole.

Heat was spreading through his body, an excessive amount of endorphines circulating through his veins, transporting the desire and hunger for you into the tiniest endings of his nerves, causing his entire system to be in the moment with you.

Same thing applied to you.

It didn't take long for him to pick up the pace, right after he moved a pillow under your hips, with the aim to hit your sweet spot at just the right angle, slide his entire length in even deeper, making the tip kiss your cervix repeatedly.

Moans and whimpers and grunts and groans from both your mouths where conjuring a whole opera of beautiful sounds you both were reveling in equally as you moved your hips to meet his repeated thrusting, tip of his cock brushing over that spot inside of you each time he moved in to fill the space between your drenched walls.

His entire weight was on you, since he wanted to sink his teeth back into the soft flesh of your neck, nibbling and sucking at the skin there. Your hands found a home in his hair, gently scratching his scalp, sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head, and you felt a puddle slowly take its form on the cover of the pillow tucked underneath your ass.

He was so deep, so so deep inside of you, his eyes bored themselves through yours straight into your soul, foreheads touching.

"Fuck, fuck, Eddie, feels so good", you babbled and moaned against his stubbly cheek, your heavy breath tickling down his own neck, "need more."

The knot in your lower abdomen was already tightening, getting ready to snap from just his feral thrusts and the beguiling way he was eyeing you.

"Yeah baby? Wanna cum for me?"

Your neediness made him chuckle, raising himself up and back on his heels, a strong arm wrapping around your torso and pulling you up with him, into his lap, letting one of his hands rest on and dig into your plush thigh.

He let himself drop on his butt, the hand on your thigh slowly trailing up up up, fingertips and palm climbing softly all the way over your back to come and stay on the back of your neck, encasing you fully and pressing you against his chest, letting you know he needed you just as close as you needed him.

Without even thinking about it your hips started moving against his as you straddled him, your kiss swollen lips finding his own again, panting into each others mouths, and soon enough the knot between your legs came close to snapping, from the change of position, the length of his cock now gliding smoothly against your clit with each rock of your hips, creating the delicious friction you so desperately craved.

"Yes baby, that's it, lose it for me, oh god fuck!", Eddie panted as he felt your hips starting to stutter, his words sending you over the edge, cunt spasming and clenching around him, your frantic breaths hitting his face as your head was thrown back.

He was soaking you up with all the sweet sounds you were making for him, helping you ride out your high, hands moving down to your ass to lift you, just after announcing his own release through a sickeningly deep moan and mumbles of "oh fuck baby, so close, gonna make me– oh shit", hot and sticky saltiness joining your sweet juices, landing in the tight space between your bellies, painting undefinable patterns onto the heated skin.

For another eternity you held each other close, felt his breathing against your shoulder and collarbone as he dipped his head to place a kiss to your throat, moving his hands away from your back to cup your face, pressing his lips to yours, not wanting to let the moment go just yet.

And then, he dropped the bomb.

"Say that you're mine", he still panted, forehead leaning against yours, noses touching as your hands cupped his on top of your cheeks.

It made you chuckle, the fact he was asking this now after fucking you into another dimension, and it made your thumbs brush over the backs of his palms.

You sensed the tension still present in every fiber of his being with the way he was holding onto your face, still needing you close, and since you knew about his abandonment issues to some extent, seeing him all vulnerable like this was tugging at your heartstrings to no end.

None of his usual slightly cocky tone, just pure softness and an open heart was what presented itself to you.

Say that you're mine.

Of course you were his.

Your facial expression softened endlessly, you felt all your insides melt into one big puddle, mouth forming into a small pout, one hand coming down to rest on his own cheek, closing the gap and slotting your lower lip in between his.

You wanted him to feel the amount of affection you had for him, in your eyes, in your kiss, in your touch.

He was supposed to feel loved. Like he should always have felt that he was loved.

"I'm all yours, Eddie. But only if you're all mine."

The look in your eyes said it all. The one in his, too.

Yeah. He was your Eddie. Your seat partner. Your magnet.

Eddie pulled you into him, as if hearing the words come out of your mouth and the way you were looking at him all soft and gooey made all his angst about being dropped and left again slowly vanish.

"I'll need some time to get used to this", he paused, not daring to meet your eye, "I mean, to someone that doesn't just leave after a while."

Since being this close to someone emotionally was about equally far away from any routine for you as well, you met him with utmost understanding.

"That's okay. We're in no rush, right?", you kissed the corner of his mouth, small pecks over the stubbly cheek opposite of where your hand was placed.

You were able to watch him get too much into his head as you spoke.

"You sure about that? I don't think the law of seat partners extends to–"

Your lips pressed to his own cut him off, "you don't need a silly law to make me wanna spend time with you, Munson."

A quick journey of your eyes over his beautiful face, his eyes widened, eyebrows raised, lips curled into a pretty smile, cheeks all rosy and forehead bangs sticking to his forehead from your most recent activities.

"Actually, I've been dreaming of you – and this – since I met you at Steve's for the first time and Dustin introduced you to me as his ultra handsome dungeon master, you remember?", you continued, hoping it would give him an idea how how much you'd been wistfully pining after him, an idea about how wanted he was.

Of course Eddie remembered.

It was the night he had left way earlier than usual because he just couldn't stand being around you without making a colossal fool out of himself for already wanting to be close to you after just thirty minutes of being in the same room, afraid to be coming on way too strong for his reputation and, speaking from experience, ultimately scare you away.

His hands dropped from your face, two strong arms wrapping themselves back around your figure as he breathed in your sweat-sticky scent, desperately trying one more time to glue this memory into the long-term department of his brain.

"Wait, does that mean I could have .. could've had you .. all this time?"

A chuckle escaped your lips, before leaning into him once more, planting another sweet kiss to his mouth.

"Yeah silly, ... all this time."

-----

Home was calling you back into the bleak reality of trying to graduate high school, and you were far from missing it.

Nancy using her famous organizational talents had made sure that Robin wouldn't leave her special pillow behind, and instructed you to look extra carefully for any items that might have flown behind the bedframe.

And she was correct. You'd blindly reached for a little white framed polaroid, only to discover that it was the one of Eddie with his flower crown, eyes squeezed shut, grinning like an absolute idiot.

He still, maybe even more so now, looked angelic.

You'd never forgive yourself if you'd leave that one here.

The ride home was spent with your head on Prince Metal's shoulder for the most part, your back practically lying on his chest, huddled up against him.

And it did take all the strength in the both of you to not constantly be all over each other, especially under the scrutinizing eyes of your teachers.

A few pecks were stolen here and there, the feeling of being entirely lovedrunk making it hard to separate. Thankfully, for the foreseeable future, you didn't have to.

The group had just shot you knowing looks at breakfast, Max, Robin and the older guys who had seen you wrapped (and very covered up, Eddie had made sure of that) in Eddie's sheets in the morning responsible for not being able to keep their beaks shut.

For the long hours you'd be spending on the road, Eddie had organized a restock of snacks at the only supermarket in the first town you'd stopped at on the way.

"As your designated seat partner, it is so hard to keep my hands to myself", you mumbled into the fabric of the dark and washed out Metallica shirt covering his shoulder with a sheepish grin, as your hand slowly disappeared into the bag on his lap, pulling out whatever box of cookies he'd chosen.

Eddie couldn't help but snort at your innuendo and the way you were using his own joke on him in return.

Lowering his head, planting his cheek against your temple, whispers.

"Oh baby, just wait until we're home."

-----

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[msweebyness]

MiracOlympus- An Unpleasant Encounter

This is a short that takes place back in the young gods’ teenaged years, based on a moment from the second episode of the Gods School web series. But with a much more insidious context… @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

Just as a reminder:

Marc- Persephone

Mylene- Demeter

Lucien- Zelus

Enjoy!

Down in the fields around Olympus, a duo of divine siblings were picking various different crops for the feast that would take place later that night.

Marc laughed at the silly joke Mylene had just told, before he spotted some lovely Narcissus flowers growing in a grove nearby. Thinking they would be wonderful to decorate the tables, he turned to his sister.

“Hey, Sunflower, I’m gonna go pick some of those flowers in that grove to put in the centerpiece vases!”, he told her, picking up his basket and standing to leave.

“Okay, Poppy, just stay close!”, the goddess of the harvest answered with a smile, before turning back to her work.

With that, Marc made his way toward the shady grove, and began picking flowers. Gathering narcissus, wild roses, and daisies for the centerpieces, he was unaware of a pair of sharp eyes watching him…

But when he had moved fairly deep into the grove, sufficiently out of his sister’s sight, he heard a familiar voice that made his blood go cold speak to him.

“Hello, little flower.”, and Marc went rigid, turning toward the voice in a defensive stance.

“You’re not supposed to be anywhere near Olympus, Lucien. Leave now.”, he said sharply, though he couldn’t keep the tremble out of his voice, much to his dismay.

“Oh, why the cold reception, my lovely little blossom. I came all this way just to see you, after all.”, Lucien said coolly, moving out of the shadows with a serpentine grin.

“No one wants you here, least of all me! Get out of here, and for the hundredth time, leave me alone!”, Marc demanded, his hand moving toward his pocket, ready to grab the dog whistle that Nathaniel had given him, which would summon Baark to his side in an instant.

But Lucien didn’t back down, only moving closer to Marc. He reached out and cupped his cheek, making the raven-haired god shudder with revulsion.

“Come now, you don’t want me to leave.”, he purred as he leaned in so his face was only an inch or so from Marc’s, “You can’t deny what’s between us, little flower…”

Marc stiffened and quickly shoved him away, fixing him with a dagger-sharp glare.

“There is nothing between us!”, he snapped, “I love Nathaniel, and only him! And I want NOTHING to do with you!”

Lucien scowled at the mention of the redhead, and grabbed Marc’s wrist in a tight grip, pulling him in close.

“Don’t mention that name. That twerp has no place ruling over an entire domain.”, the vile god snarled, “And you shouldn’t be wasting your time on him.”

“Don’t you dare insult him! Let me go!”, Marc hissed, trying to pull himself free from Lucien’s grip. He quickly thrust his other hand into his pocket, fingers closing around the dog whistle.

However, before Lucien could make any other moves, Marc sent a prayer of thanks to the Fates as he heard his sister’s footsteps approaching, as Mylene called out for him.

“Marc? Poppy? Where are you?”

Quickly, Lucien shapeshifted into a hawk and hid in a tree, just as Mylene pushed through the cover of leaves and emerged in the grove.

“Oh, there you are! Let’s go, I think I have everything I need!”, she said, holding up her basket of grains and the like, before she noticed her brother’s disheveled state, “Poppy…are you okay?”

Straightening up, he managed to give her a smile, “Y-yeah, Sunflower, I’m fine. The, uh, the pollen is just…really thick back here.”, he quickly said, adding a sneeze for good measure.

“Well, come on, let’s get you back to Olympus for some fresh air.”, Mylene said, as Marc retrieved his basket of flowers. And with that, the two siblings flew back toward the mountain peaks, with Marc sending a cold glare back to the hawk still in the grove.

A few moments later, the hawk transformed back into a young god, glaring up at the peaks of Olympus, where he was no longer welcome…not noticing the ground giving an angry rumble below him.

Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[notebook91286]

104/365

[muzzlemouths]

I know the meaning of the words ever after

This was a small oneshot I wrote up for the DCAH server's writing contest, which I've since tidied up some to post here! It takes place somewhere between 1940-1950 — which isn't super relevant to the story, but it's important to me that you know. lol.

There is a song mentioned in the fic that I feel really adds to the atmosphere when listened to while reading. I am so insistent on you listening to this song that I've linked it in the fic's wording below. please do this one thing for me I promise it's worth it

Sun&Moon centric // wordcount: 1109

This house is full of ghosts.

Nothing ghoulish, mind you. The floors have been swept of evil fiends long before now. Rather, these old, yellow walls are haunted by the ghosts of memory. Like dust embraces the morning as it pours through open blinds, here before your eyes and gone by the afternoon, so, too, do the inhabitants of this old home move within it.

Even now, your hands buried in the kitchen sink and worrying over a piece of china, can you see them dawdling your peripheral vision. The sunflowers on your table dance on invisible strings and arrange themselves with endless repetition.

You hum, “Leave them be,” your words undeniably hidden behind the fondness of laughter. The arrangement stills, its orchestrator caught red handed. You settle the rinsed teacup on a cloth to your left and return to the sink for the two that remain. “They’re already perfect, Sun,” your insistence brings with it a smile, “stop fussing and help me set the table, won’t you? I’m almost done with this.”

Though normally eager to lend you a hand, today it seems they are all too happy to ignore your request. The gentle ting of a bell precedes their arrival at your back, instead, where they waste no time in stealing the cup right out from under your fingers.

“Hey,” you make a lazy grab for it only to see the cup raised just out of reach, a lighthearted taunt that doesn’t go unheard, “that’s not what I asked you to do, mister,” you tut. There’s no real anger behind your words. You know this, and they certainly know it, too, because the cup remains where it’s at. “Fine, fine, be that way. You can finish washing up, then.”

You expect to be thwarted for a second time, teased a while longer. They answer with the song of more bells, instead, the noise like a windchime carried through an open window, and — to your pleasant surprise — it’s followed by the unmistakable sound of your china dipping beneath the faucet.

Offering them a satisfied thrum, you begin to collect the readied teacups from where they rest, dry and ready to find their way to the table. One by one you arrange them until each cup is in its place. Sun offers you the final cup a moment later, patted dry by hand, and you hesitate in setting this one down. Its starry pattern catches your eye and for a moment, only a moment, you’re brought back to a time when these cups held more than memories.

Sun grounds you with a sympathetic touch to your shoulder. It’s impossible to miss the expression you know is there. To worry is their second nature.

You wave them off with a dull smile, “just getting sentimental,” you promise, and the cup is settled into place a minute after. With this, the table is finally set just how you like it. The centerpiece breathes life into the picturesque assembly of it all. Life that is welcomed as much as it is necessary, for the bread bin is only stale crumbs and the door creaks with the weight of a decade. Your pantry has gone stale over the years. 

The frames that hold up this home of yours have forgotten what it feels like to keep a gift which is new — alive, but you remember, and you aren’t going to let yourself forget any time soon.

Having already noticed your dwelling again, you find Sun’s hand has slipped its way into your own and, just like that, the thoughts pass quickly as they came before they’re given the chance to become anything worse. All too soon are they leading you out of the kitchen, an insistence in each step that has you tripping over your own feet with anticipation and laughter.

The fireplace roars to life following your arrival to the livingroom. Though the wood in its castiron mouth has long since been devoured, your chime-tongued companions somehow find a way to recreate the wonderful flame time and time again.

Across the room, your zenith radio clicks and coughs through a thick layer of dust, untouched by any hand. It chugs along, filtering through countless voices before landing on something specific; Frank Sinatra's Polka Dots and Moonbeams.

“I love this song,” you croon. But they already know. They know you like no one else. “We used to dance to this song, do you remember?” Your chest warms as nostalgia plays the memories for you like an old record. The many times you’ve spun circles over this same carpet, ragged now beneath weightless feet, and the first time you heard its wonderful tune. That day they helped you fold new wallpaper into place, the way in which it peels away after all this time now something like small petals along the wall.

“Do you remember?” You repeat yourself with more insistence this time, a breathless whisper. Tears begin to stray from the corner of your eyes — not anguished, but grateful. You can’t imagine anyone else you would rather spend the rest of your days left, regardless of if those days are few or forever.

You’re answered with a hollower bell’s ting and the wonderful scent of lavender. The tattered blinds fold together on their own, enveloping the room in a darkness only broken by the fireplace at your back. Cool, lithe hands sneak beneath your palms, fingers curling between your own. 

You’re lead a step backwards, then forwards once more, a graceful motion that is all too familiar. 

“You do remember,” said in such a whisper, tucked behind a smile, you aren’t sure they even hear you. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Moon guides you across the room in small, rhythmic circles, your footsteps leaving no trace in their wake. The voice in your radio sings of lilacs and laughter. When your dance slows and your cheek rests pleasantly against their chest, you come to decide the only thing that matters is already right here in front of you.

One day, inevitably, this house will no longer have the strength to stand. It will crumble and it will fall, and it will take with it your teacups, and your music, and your fancy vase with its old, dried flowers, but it will never steal away this moment. All too soon the day will come when someone stumbles upon the ruins of this home, when the tap has run dry and the frame is brittle as an elder tree, and beneath the garden, between the roots, they might just find each of you forever in each other’s reach. After all…

this house is full of ghosts.

[melodrama-ticcc]

— “ 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 ” ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐕

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞

𝘈 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴.

𝙃𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙞𝙩.

𝘈 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘛𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥.

𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫. 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧. 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧.

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ: ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵐᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉˢ. ⁱ.ᵉ. ᵈᵒᵐᵉˢᵗⁱᶜ ᵛⁱᵒˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵇᵘˢᵉ, ᶠⁱʳᵉᵃʳᵐ ˢ, ᵍʳᵃᵖʰⁱᶜ ᵛⁱᵒˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ, ᵐᵉⁿᵗᵃˡ ⁱˡˡⁿᵉˢˢ, ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵈʳᵘᵍ ᵃᵇᵘˢᵉ, ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵘʳᵈᵉʳ, ᵐⁱˡᵈ ᵍᵒʳᵉ, ʳᵉˡⁱᵍⁱᵒⁿ, ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉˢ.

—

“‘Scuse my brothers, miss.” Drayton pipes up, either of his hands resting atop the other men’s shoulders. “Heard they was givin’ you’s a hard time yesterday. Ya’ see, they ain’t all there, in the head.” Drayton smiles. “Been that way since they’s was youngin’s, doctor says they aight, but they ain’t understand things the way you’s and I do ya’ see. They’s just feeble-minded. A lil’ slow. But uh, theys got somethin’ theys prepared for ya’, they ain’t mean to scare you. Go on boys, go ‘head.” Drayton pats their shoulders before he takes a step back. Rebecca’s eyes shift from him and his kind-seeming smile to Bubba and Nubbins, who both look unsure and rather aloof. Nubbins rubs the back of his head as though he isn’t sure what to say, and Bubba simply stays silent wearing that familiar concerned expression.

“Well uh, we ain’t m-meant to cause any harm.” Nubbins shrugs. “Just thought we, we were helpin’, introducin’ ourselves. Bubba and I, we ain’t used to havin’ no, uh, friends. Heh.”

“Oh, oh my,” Rebecca replies. “Please its water under the bridge, ain’t a big deal at all.” She lies through a falsified smile. Her eyes a clear indicator of her perturbed state. “Don’t you worry ‘bout that.”

“We’re awfully sorry. I-I mean we, we won’t do it again, right Bubba?” Bubba simply nods, watching her with a concerned stare. A soft groan emitting from his repulsive mask. The last part of the apology is mumbled, but Bubba extends the sloppily-prepared bouquet to her and she takes it with a kind grin.

“This is for me? Oh my, well ain’t that sweet of y’all’s. It ain’t necessary, really. I ain’t got no ill will, glad to meet more of our neighbors.” She takes the flowers, examining them as she brings them to her nose. They smell faintly of dirt and honey, an earthy-sweet smell she isn’t too sure about. “Beautiful flowers. Lemme get these in some water, y’all care to come in for some sweetea?” Her southern drawl is as thick as the trouble she sows. Her father staring skeptically at the end of the hall with a raised brow. “Daddy’s in too, I insist. Y’all come on in and make ya’selves at home while I fix these up and get some glasses.” Becca doesn’t give them the opportunity to decline her offer, stepping out of the way and ushering them inside before another word can be said. She can all most see Drayton plotting an excuse to return home, but before he can Bubba and Nubbins are making their way into the home. Rebecca looks to him, raising her brow, “Come on now, don’t be shy. I see y’all cooped up in that there farmhouse all day. We ain’t strangers.”

A crystal vase full of tap water acts as the centerpiece for the table, the sunflowers trimmed evenly and rearranged in such a way that makes them look much more presentable. In fact, Becca had become rather fond of the ugly things. Gathered at the dining table, Raymond sits at the head speaking to Drayton who sits to his left. Utterances of work and business affairs are mentioned in passing, something Becca finds herself tuning in and out of. Nubbins and Bubba sit across from their elder brother in silence. Each of them sipping on an ice-cold glass of sweet tea. She watches them carefully, as they fiddle with the straws in their glasses and play about like unsupervised children. Rebecca moves about the dining table with a large pitcher of the homemade sweet tea, refilling each of their glasses with a tender hearted smile. In the time they’d spend together, she’d began to notice that Nubbins had always spoke in an odd type of way. It became clear to her that it hadn’t been his nervousness causing the phenomenon, more so his stutter and mental inhibitions. That, and the fact that Bubba never spoke at all. It had made her curious as to his means of communication, but what had piqued her interest the most had been the sheer peculiarity of these boys and the way in which their elder brother spoke about them. As though they were meant to be hidden, something to be ashamed of. She had chalked it up to their rare condition, figuring it must’ve been a nuisance to present young men like that to the public. Still, the thought prevailed in the depths of her mind; a suspicion without premise. And that damned mask of his. The more she stared at it, the more hideous it became. It had to of been made of leather of some kind, she was sure of it.

“Say Becca, how’s that there wound of your’s healin’ up,” Drayton motions to her hand, to which she flashes the healing scar of the cut from weeks past. She tries not to pay it much attention, for it was inflicted by the monstrous beast she loathed so much. It only reminded her of him, made her angry and vengeful.

“Healin’ up just fine mister Drayton, kind of you to ask.”

Her guests remain in their seats, conversation pausing when there is a knock at the door. They each look to her with a questioning glance, and she’s quick to set the pitcher on the counter and nod her head. “Y’all stay seated now, I’ll get the door.” When she steps away she watches the brothers exchange looks about the table, as if to communicate about something unbeknownst to her. Though all her precognitions leave once she comes face-to-face with Johnny, a cheeky grin rested on his lips as he leans up against the railing on the porch.

At first, she’s unsure how to react. However she’s sure she must’ve made a face when confronted by his person. Though she knows better to be cool and collected in her interactions with the boy, in light of her current company she’d keep a steady composure so as not to make a scene or worse, upset her father. Begrudgingly she smiles to him, though it pains her to do so. She’s still plagued with the events of days past, hatred bubbling at the forefront of each way she encountered him.

“Johnny,” she acknowledges, nodding her head towards the boy.

“Darlin’,” he mimics, gesturing his head towards her as he spits on the ground, head turning up once more as he moves toward her.

“Don’t call me darlin’, damn it!”

“Becca, whose at the door?” Raymond’s voice stops her and she turns to look over her shoulder. He walks down the hall, enough to see Johnny standing in front of her. Though he’s guardedly mistrustful of the scene playing out in front of him, akin to understanding something is going on between the two of them. He gives Becca a stern look, a reminder that lets her know he’s observant of her, before he smiles. “We’ll I’ll be, long time no see boy.” He steps ahead, shaking Johnny’s hand who meets him with a gratuitous smile.

“How you been sir?”

“Been fine, gettin’ things ready down here. How ‘bout ya’self?”

“Fine myself sir, just came down to a have a word with your lil’ lady is all. Think I owe’s her an apology.” His dark eyes move to lock with her own, uncertainty written in her. Ah, she thinks she gets it.

He takes another step forward so that he’s looking down at her, sliding his hands into his pockets when he meets her gaze. His teeth fiddle with the piece of grass in his mouth, twirling it around his tongue. There is a falsehood of regret reflected in his countenance, and Becca sees right past it.

“Darlin’, I think I might’ve upset you yesterday.” It’s a blatant remark, one that twinges Rebecca’s temper. She feels the hot rise within her, bubbling at the surface once his motive is made clear to her. “I’d like to apologize. I ain’t mean to offend ya’, just tryna help is all.”

This is a petty move, even for someone like him. Using the presence of her father and his family as a tactic to toy with her like this, force her to put on a front and accept his meaningless apology. It becomes more and more clear, down to the way he stands so close to her. Patronizing and threatening, it takes everything in her not to say something. This feeling of anger and resentment, it is a residual emotion when it comes to Johnny. She cannot withstand him any longer.

“I know we’s got off on the wrong foot, so I’d like to wipe the slate clean. Startin’ with helpin’ you get that car of y’all’s fixed up.”

She wants to deck the smug grin off of his stupid face.

“I hope you find it in you to forgive me, darlin’. I ain’t mean no harm.”

It takes her some time to gather up her thoughts, in order to diminish the risk of saying something that would get her into trouble or paint her in a negative light. But as she thinks about the scenario playing out before her it becomes more clear that he’d done this solely to fuck with her. To take advantage of her predicament and force her to cave to his will. It’s infuriating, something that twists her insides in a violent way and churns her brain into hot soup. In the time she spent gaining her composure she had to of begun shaking, hands clenched at her sides as she wavers in quick movements.

“You got summin’ to say, Becca?” Raymond interjects.

Through gritted teeth she smiles and nods, hardly an acceptance of his apology. She finds herself lingering on the thought of his words to her the day before, the last thing he had said to her before he disappeared behind the drive. I might just fall in love with you. She disliked the connotation those words carried, it bothered her that he’d said it. For she hadn’t understood why.

“Well,” Rebecca sucks in a breath. “I appreciate ya’ comin’ outta your way to apologize, Johnny boy. Thank you v’much.”

The perpetual veering line between peace and panic had become in much closer succession within the last day alone. It was a miracle how she’d managed to keep it together at that point, nearing her limit she has to attempt to control her tremors. Grasping pitifully at her wrists in an effort to stop it all.

“Glad we could sort this thing out.” Johnny nods, and there follows a period of silence. To which Rebecca refuses to invite him in, but he awaits the interference of her father.

“Well invite the man in for god’s sake girl.” Raymond chimes in. Rebecca has to take a deep breath, evidence clear in her tone of voice that she is insufferable.

“Family is inside, like to join ‘em for some sweetea?”

“Sounds mighty fine.”

I think I might just fall in love with you.

Perhaps she had just realized the weight of those words in the passing moments, not realizing the importance they carried the day prior. But reflecting on it now, it was a phrase that had been cause for concern. At first it confused her, she was clueless as to why he’d flaunt such a fatuous thing. He hadn’t expressed any inkling of interest in her, not in that way. Why bring it up now? It rattles her brain in a way she cannot fathom, picking at her like vultures to a carcass. The sole reason of her unrest, it consumes her for the following days. Even interfering with her ability fulfill her womanly duties. Becca finds herself reliving the interaction perpetually in her mind, daydreaming. And then sifting through any reasoning behind it. She’s even sure he did it just to get under her skin, to plant a seed in her brain and let it grow.

It isn’t a matter of her garnering those feelings for him, not at all. If anything, it’s caused her to disrelish him even more. The feeling of animosity growing with each passing day. Confusion leads to disturbance, and disturbance to rancor. She would spend her time in deep thought, staring blankly at the wall in front of her while she would wash dishes or fold laundry. A dazed conveyance would turn to one of vexation. A scowl plaguing those winsome features of hers as came the revelation of her fruitions.

From the very beginning there had been something about Johnny. From his handsome features to his piercing gaze. He read her like an open book, pieced together her puzzle with so much as a glance. As though she had turned herself inside out for him, he knew how to get anything he wanted out of her. It tarnished her faultless reputation and forfeited the one thing she cherished most, control. The only thing that had kept her grounded and separated from the psychotic world of homicidal desires that found refuge in her head.

She always possessed such a carnal hatred for those types of men, types like Johnny, the ones who reaped innocent women of their empowerment and played them a fool. Jimmy was always like that.

Maggie hadn’t always been the deadbeat mother Rebecca knew her to be. There had been a time, when she was very young, that Maggie was the ideal woman. It was that woman who taught her the rights and wrongs of home making, the one who instilled the picture of the perfect wife within her. It inspired Rebecca to do what she did, run the home like she knew her mother would have when she was well. It wasn’t until that damned Matthias showed up that things got messy.

Around that time Rebecca was only five years young, her mother’s envy and resentment became insurmountable. Jealousy made her a repulsive hag, the drugs were simply an outlet. When she felt her husband’s love for their daughter grew too great her violent tendencies would break through. When Raymond put a stop to her acts of abuse and malice, Maggie grew horns. As a means of vengeance, Maggie sought out Matthias to fill the void in her broken heart. Their love was was an omen of hardship and ill-fated ends. He was one of many, but it was always him the one that came back. The one Rebecca remembers most.

In many ways Johnny was reminiscent of Matthias, without the drugs and beatings. But he too carried the uncanny psyche of that terrible man. He was nothing but a skirt-chasing lech used to having his way with sloven woman without intellect or naive young ladies seduced by his libertine charisma and hunky visage. That, and he was fucking insane.

But then stood the question; how had he seen through her convincing facade? The simple query had led to a series of interrogations. If he could see her truest form, had everyone else been able to, too? Was her storybook life really just a dream, and had her notable reputation came to crumble? It became a question of crisis, a what instead of a how.

The very notion of it all, the implications such a quandary carried had led her to believe it was the work of the devil. Some ungodly deity who had come to curse her and her oh-so desirable life. He was the devil, and he didn’t wear horns or a tail. He was beautiful. Captivating. A beguiling creature sent to invade her home and inflict pain and suffering upon her. And that was just what he had done.

So he did not love her, nor she him. It was all a front, bait that she wouldn’t bite. She would pretend to be blissfully unaware of his malignant endeavors. He wanted to play games, and she’d realized she hadn’t been playing. Now, the feline would wake to play and school the dog at his own game.

At least, that is what Rebecca had thought up, in that clever, sadistic and painstakingly demented brain of hers.

If only Rebecca had known his true ambitions.

Crazy recognizes crazy, that is what Johnny had come to figure out. The evening that Drayton, his mother and himself had come to introduce themselves they had meant to decipher just what they were in for with these new neighbors. Yet, the moment he’d laid eyes on her and her arresting beauty, she’d captured his attention. Though her alluring nature and comely appearance hadn’t been the only thing that would captivate his audience. He saw it in her, the side that was just begging to come out. Her facade was simply a dam meant to stop the psychosis from flooding through. But Johnny could see through the cracks, watch the madness overshadow her precious visage. The perfect was imperfect, and he supposed he’d like to tame the untamable.

Drayton and Nancy hadn’t seen it, she had everyone else fooled, but not him. He’d see right through that little act of hers and know her for what she truly had been, a cold blooded killer just like him.

Call it intuition or a good judge of character, but it wasn’t just a hunch that convinced him of such a thing. It wasn’t a question. He need not test his theory, for she was just like him, and in that way he knew how to get whatever he wanted out of her. And that had been exactly what he did.

What troubled him was not the way in which he did it or how, but why. What reason had he to kick the bull. No, he knew exactly why.

Rebecca Payne hadn’t been entirely wrong about Johnny Sawyer, either. He was a suave Texan boy with the good looks and charm to back up his flagrant talk, and he used every bit of it to his utmost advantage. Girls would fawn over him, pretty ones, the kind he liked to have his way with. She wasn’t that type, not Rebecca. She was more the type to take home to your mother, the type to show off, to wed, to make a family with, to make part of the family. Not the type to strangle and butcher into a piece of meat, though he was certain she’d taste just as delectable as she looked.

She was tough, divergent and unpredictable, a stark contrast to the girls he typically brought home to slaughter and have his fun with. There was something undoubtedly unsettling about her, and perhaps that had been enough causation for his infatuation with the woman. For if there had been someone to win over a devout serial killer like Johnny, it would have been a heavenly southern woman with the charisma, strength, grace and lunacy to back it up. His dream woman.

Even murderer’s were prone to miserable lives brought about by their perpetual loneliness. For Johnny, he had the family. His mother, his brothers, sissy, grandpa, and at one point grandma too. Admittedly, none of them did much of anything as a means of fulfilling his predilection for blood or lustful desires. Nor did they quite understand him; he’d never thought anyone would have the capability of understanding how he felt, why he did the things he did, what he needed. Even the family had shamed him on several accounts for his behavior, his inability to hide beneath the radar and keep the family secret hidden had led to trouble for the Sawyers on multiple accounts. There had been the time with the man by the lake, those three roommates from Pfluegerville, or most notably the complications risen by his limerence over Maria.

Johnny’s unreliable reputation amongst his family had pinned him an outcast, if he were to remove his besotted mother from the picture. Even then, his mother did little to pay mind to his needs as a man, besmirching the girls he brought home and choose to keep around for short periods of time. Typically, his endeavors for a companion ended in fatality. Their quick end a result of his own lack of interest, the family’s interference or their futile attempts at escape.

Even so, it never phased him when they were killed. He relished listening to the pitiful screams that became caught in their throat when he wrapped his hands around their necks, watching their utterances of genuine terror and fright. Non of them ever understood quite what it had been like to be Johnny Sawyer. Therefore non of them had been important, non of them were worthy of him. Just like momma said.

Though each of his deceased flings shared something in commonality; they all fell for his bonafide Texas wiles. They’d let him exploit them so easily, and they were so weak when it came time to fight back. They’d all slept with him willingly, at least at first, until he’d hold them captive as his own private property. He craved the challenge, the thrill of the hunt. The true spirit of his sport. Rebecca had seemed to give him just that.

What was it about Adam and Eve, when the serpent came to entice them with forbidden fruit. Johnny wanted that, the thing he couldn’t have. The more she pushed, the hungrier he became. He liked the fierceness in her, the drive and strength. More than anything, her decline to his advances and blatant disinterest in him had only caused him to pursue more aggressively. From the very beginning she had shut down his advances, he’d never been rejected so crudely before. And she was so akin to his efforts, so observant. When he saw the same thing he felt in himself in her, it aroused him. So he decided he needed her, to stroke his ego and prove that he truly could have whatever he wanted. She liked playing hard to get, and he loved the chase.

But perhaps her likeness to himself had also become a prime factor in this game he was playing. The concept of a true connection and understanding had long vacated the hell hole that was his mind, but in ways he’d yet to realize Rebecca had reminded him of those desires. Eventually, maybe, she’d come to truly get him. It would seem she’d already taken the initiative to recognize his own macabre tendencies.

As promised Johnny had shown up on the farmhouse porch the following day with a set of tools and miscellaneous spare parts. That same cunning grin on his face when Rebecca answers the door. This time, with an endearing smile and a quick nod.

“Aight, let’s get to work then.”

She didn’t need his interference, didn’t need a man to come to her aide. She knew well and good she’d been perfectly capable of fixing the damned thing herself, but alas, something else was afoot. But contrary to what Johnny had expected, she didn’t simply sit back and hand him tools. She’d wedged herself under the front bumper of the old thing and got to work.

The small talk was frivolous, meaningless conversations of general politeness. Johnny would try that same antagonist method of his, only to be met with a cheeky smile and polite response. Kill ‘em with kindness, it became her new memo.

“Say there darlin’, you seem awfully different today.” Johnny perks up, akin to her sudden change in attitude. “You think over what I said ain’t ya’? Realized I was right.”

Rebecca just laughs, shaking her head when she slides out from under the truck. “Not a chance in hell,” she’s lighthearted about it. Still playing to that same level of charm and in many ways, seduction. “You real persistent when the girl ain’t like ya’ back, aye Johnny?”

He’s sort of taken aback by her response, a twinge of annoyance bubbling in his gut. Still he prevails, “just tryna’ figure out why you got your panties in a twist, that’s all.”

“Tch.” She shakes her head, standing up as she moves to take a look at what he’d done under the hood.

“Don’t trust my work? You ain’t the only one who knows how to fix things up.”

“Can’t trust boys, always forgettin ’ somethin’. Thinkin’ with what’s in your pants and not your head.” She looks to examine over the radiator system, confused at the new radiator that he’d seemingly installed. “The hell’s this?”

“New radiator.”

“I sealed up the crack we ain’t needed a new radiator. Just needed the water pump fixed up.”

“Listen doll, sealin’ up that crack’s only gonna get ya’ so far. It’s a temp fix, ain’t solve the actual problem.”

Rebecca feels bested, frustrated with his oversight on the task and somewhat perturbed. She goes to say something she might regret, only to be stopped when her father comes out on the porch.

“How’s that truck comin’ along? Y’all workin’ together?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“She’s about done sir, few more tweaks ‘n she’ll be as good as new.”

Raymond laughs, leaning against the railing on the porch as he nods. “Well, as new as she can be.”

“Your girl know a thing or two about fixin’ up cars, color me impressed.” Johnny looks to her, shooting her a smirk when she sends him a questioning look. “Got ya’ a new radiator from the family’s junk yard, hope that does y’all some good.”

“Mighty fine Johnny boy, have to give ya’ and ya’ family a thank you or two, we owe you one.”

“It ain’t necessary, sir.” Johnny waves, looking to Becca. “Though, I ain’t mind a date with ya’ daughter in return. Been meanin’ to take ‘er out.”

“Why you-“

“Becca girl, you ain’t been out since we moved in here. Might do you some good to have a night out. I think that can be arranged, Johnny. You’s a fine young man. Right Becca?”

Her expression is incredulous, repulsed. She watches Johnny and his crooked smile. Like he’s taunting her, he stares at her with a condescending look. It seems like even when she plays his game, she’s bested. The only resolution is to kill him.

“Of course, daddy.” Her mouth twitches into an ingenuine smile. First he says he’d fall in love with her, something she still can’t quite wrap her head around. It aggravates her. Now, this.

“Very well, maybe you two can find a thing or two in common. It’ll do you some good girl.”

What purpose had he to take her out.

“Great, it’s a date then. I’ll pick ya’ up tomorrow at six.”

What reason did he have to take her on a date. Especially after so flagrantly flaunting his supposed attraction for her.

“Have ‘er home by ten.”

“Will do sir.”

Before too long they’d finished repairing the water pump system and the truck was running good and well once more. In the time they spent there, Becca simmered in her indignation. Nothing but red hot fury flooding the forefront of her mind. As they worked, she watched him with eyes like death. How would she kill him? She’d love to strangle him to death and watch the life leave his eyes, or behead him. Maybe she’d burn him alive, or cook him for dinner. How amusing that would be.

It was all so thrilling to think about. She reveled in the image of his suffering. She wanted him to cry, she wanted him to beg. The fantasy was so titillating for her, so exhilarating. But each time she returned to reality she was reminded of the simple fact that he still stood there, breathing, heart beating, right in front of her. Getting away with any little thing he so pleased. It had been outrageous he continued to play with her in such a way, only caused her to resent him more.

When he’d left it had to of been the late afternoon, and after she’d watched him as he headed up the drive, that stupid saunter of his in those tight jeans, Rebecca came in to get herself clean up and prepare supper. Upset, she sought out her father to clear her mind. Still brewing with the choler that caused her so much inner anguish.

“Daddy, why’d you set me up with that Johnny. I ain’t like him, he’s just playin’ you like a fool.” He’s sat on the reclining chair in the living room, watching some news broadcast on the television.

“Becca, he’s a fine young man. Give ‘em a chance, it’ll do you some good to have a friend ‘round here.”

“Not a friend like Johnny, boy’s trouble.”

“Oh come on now,” Raymond turns the volume on the television down with the remote, his full attention switching to his daughter as she stubbornly places her hands on her hips. “Don’t come in here actin’ like you ain’t got a crush on the boy, I heard ya’ yellin’ his name just the other day. Don’t think I forgot about that young lady.”

She’s sure he must’ve been talking about when she’d shouted in anger two days prior, but it flusters her. Her face goes hot and she struggles to find the right words to defend herself.

“That was different daddy, he ticked me off. I ain’t got no crush on that boy.”

“Y’all seem to like lookin’ at one another an awful lot for not takin’ a likin’.”

“I told you he gots a starin’ problem ain’t I?”

“Becca, you listen here. I ain’t gonna tell ya’ ‘gain.” Raymond warns, his voice going stern. “That boy means well, he’s a good man. I want you to get out and have some fun, ain’t no need to be cooped up here all day. Give ‘em a chance. That’s final.” She feels betrayed by her own father. Had he not wanted her to care for him? Need she go off and find some other man to look after? It didn’t make one bit if sense to her. But alas, she hangs her head and agrees.

“Johnny Sawyer! Johnny! Johnny, get yer’ ass out here right now!” Her fist pangs the hardwood door of the house. Yet again her raucous is met with no answer. “Johnny boy I swear to the lord above I’ll kill you. Get out here, now!” She’s livid, both in disbelief and rage. Despite this she knows to be careful given her circumstances.

“Well if it ain’t miss Payne, ain’t this a surprise.” Drayton pulls up to the house in a old white truck, nodding his head towards her as he steps out the vehicle. “What brings ya’ here?”

Startled, she spins around. She has to adjust herself to appear more resolute and presentable, embarrassment clear in the way her cheeks display a rose tincture. “I apologize sir.” She bites her lip, “I’m lookin’ for Johnny. Any idea where he might be? I need to have a word with him.”

“Well that’s alright. I’ll go fetch ‘em.”

“Very well.” Becca nods, stepping off the porch and arching a brow. “Sorry ‘bout all this.”

“No need to ‘pologize young lady. You stay here.” He moves past her and towards the front door, unlocking it and stepping inside cautiously, as if to hide the interior. He eyes her as he shuts the door, the handle clicking as it closes.

She’d never stepped foot on the Sawyer’s property before, never seen it all up close. Yet the main house looked dingy and beat up, white paint chipping off the wood planks and rusted metal hardware accenting it’s edifice. The grass that surrounded the right side of the home was overgrown and unruly. A peak inside the windows of the place gave her a glimpse of what looked to be a gritty, dirty home, Something that looked like it had been lived in for decades without a proper cleaning. It was disgusting, much to her surprise. She’d of thought a woman like Nancy would’ve had such a place cleaned up. Why, if it was Becca in charge, the place would be looking idyllic and pristine. In that regard, she fancied herself above Nancy. On some imaginary podium in which she was atop. No wonder Johnny ended up the way he was, if someone like her raised him.

The sound of the door knob clicking alerts Becca of his approach, her attention quickly switching to the door as Johnny moves out of it. He seems less careful than Drayton, a view of the wood staircase and a red room full of animal skulls flashing into view before the door shuts.

“Ah, Becca, just who I wanted to see.”

“Just what the hell do you think yer’ doin’ boy?” She’s instantaneously confrontational with him, upset by his charades and petty tactics and entitled attitude. She steps up, inching toward his face as she presses a finger into his chest. “What typa’ game you playin’, talkin’ up my daddy and tryna get me to go out with you, tsk. It ain’t count if I ain’t willin’.”

“Don’t matter.” Johnny chuckles, “as long as I got the opportunity.”

“What the fuck is it you want from me huh? Tell me boy, ‘fore I go grab that shotgun ‘gain.”

“Yer’ a fighter, I like that.”

“Ugh!” Becca pushes him back, pointing towards him knowingly. Anger swells in her and she swears she could just lob his head off. Yet, she adheres to the pact she made to herself and keeps her temper. At least, as best as she can. “I ain’t about to take too kindly to yer remarks boy, ya’ heard me? You’s want every girl, well you can’t have me.” She turns to walk away, stepping down the porch and headed back towards her place. She’d have to figure something out, there wasn’t any way of getting out of that date. Not with her father on her back. She’s pissed but she’s clever, and she’s sure she can think of something to cause his plan to backfire.

“See you tomorrow, darlin’.”

—

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭! - 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

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