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#I love all the trees in my yard
spoofyleaf · 19 days
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Sometimes I remember that my whole house was so obsessed with the show Merlin, that we named the first tree we planted in the yard Merlin.
When it was given to us 11 years ago it was hardly a scraggly stick, and now it looks like a giant bush
Artist rendition
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wekillitwithfire · 2 months
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weeping cherry
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imwritesometimes · 1 year
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shoutout to the two little skunks that set off my security cam playing out in my front yard 😘✌️
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kansasjustgotgayer · 7 months
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Doing homework is actually against my religion as a hedonist so I’ll need that added to my list of accommodations thank you
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theater-of-dimensions · 10 months
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I just found the cutest worm in my apple 🥺 it was a very nice orangey salmon pink and like 3 mm long
#Tbc it was an apple from the tree in our yard so it's 100% fine and normal to find a worm#Because the only quality control those apples go through is me looking at them and being like 'yeah that looks edible' and yoinking it off#But it was just funny because I was eating it while watering some plants so I wasn't paying attention to the apple#And I glanced down and this lil guy was just sitting where I had just bitten off a chunk lookin at me like 'bro wtf my house'#Anyway I fucking love nature and animals and there is so much biodiversity in one yard#I was going around kicking all the puffy dandelion heads to spread the seeds more#And I walked into one corner of the yard and looked down and the grass below was *teeming* with life#Like it looked like the plants were moving#Because there were so many little crickets hopping around#And also the echinacea is in full bloom surrounded by raspberries so there are So! Many! Bees!#They're all out here in their lil puffy sweaters!!#RHSLDHOKSBDHKSDHSK THE NATURAL WORLD IS SO FULL OF WONDER AND I AM SO FULL OF LOVE#Anyway shoutout to Coyote Peterson and the Brave Wilderness yt channel for making me be normal about bugs#Because to be clear I absolutely do still have a phobia of them#But! They're just so shaped!#Edit: sure hope that worm didn't have any roommates because if so. uh. I ate them :/#I'm pretty sure it was just the one though#It was right at the bottom in the like fuckin butthole of the apple (idk what it's called); it looked like it was full of dirt and goo#(which I assume is the worm's poop and other slime idk)#I thoroughly rinsed it off with the garden hose so we good
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jedi-bird · 1 year
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Went and bought two large bags of potting soil and one regular size cactus/citrus mix. Used all of it in less than an hour. Replanted the geranium that came from my grandparent's house, finally planted my last rose, got the elephant ear tuber into a pot, and replanted all of the lemon bros (aka the Deke Squad) and the orange/grapefruit hybrid my partner's aunt gave me. Being outside for a bit today felt really good. It was a pleasant distraction.
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I also did some sorting out this morning and found my old ikea bear; decided to keep him out and have him one of my old Rogue One shirts since they don't fit me anymore. I think it suits him.
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beegswaz · 11 months
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sorry For being xcringe on Majn btw....
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The Border Of All I Knew Once
As a child I would run up with my Heart in my hands, bounding up to The borderline, clamber up the fence To look beyond, beyond, as far as I could see. The seas of green, the fireflies flickering, The stars above me gently smiling. The summer wind sweeping past, whispering To cast in amber this one stilling memory. I used to want to walk wherever the path unfurls, Now I've grown older, and I know how it goes. But that prayer is not to start walking, but to keep on. To get back to that wonder, simmering all along. I touch my hands to that rough wooden bend, And look, unharried, above my unknowing head. This drowsing summer song, balm to my soul. This view I've always known, one of a million homes. I can still enter this living memory, I can ponder that which it is beckoning. And when it comes time to for me to return, This wonder will push me into my own momentum.
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metalheadmickey · 2 years
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Hey shortstack! I am typing horizontally so any typos are because I am currently a prawn 🦐 here are some questions for you:
If you buy ice cream to have at home, what brand do you get and what is your go to flavour? (Like ice cream in a tub, not an individual lolly or something)
Do you believe in curses?
Do you like being lifted up in the air? As a short person, I think a lot of people would assume you would enjoy it. But as a fellow short person I really don't care for it. Is it fun for you?
🖤🐶
Beloved! Hello!! Omg I'm picturing you all curled up and I love it a lot. I hope you are the most cozy. 🖤🤍
We buy all kinds of brands honestly! No brand loyalty really, we just pick stuff that sounds yummy. Our local grocery store chain makes their own ice cream though and we do buy that pretty often I suppose. But not like, exclusively.
I do not believe in curses! A boring answer, but meh. It's the truth.
I kind of love being lifted in the air! My fiance is very tall and he picks me up all the time. Sometimes I just walk up to him and am like "catch me" and jump and expect him to catch me. He puts me on his back a lot too. Related: I do this thing where I climb him? Like he just stands there with his arms out like a T and I jump up onto his front and wrap my arms and legs around him, and then use as much strength as I can to climb all the way around him. Like I hold myself up and scramble around his body and he just stands there. The challenge is to make it all the way around him and end up wrapped around his front again. I've gotten pretty good at it. The hardest part is when I have to duck under his arms. Anyway, tall people are great to have in your life if you are like me and just get urges to climb or be off the ground in some way.
Good questions, hot stuff!!
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milo-is-rambling · 2 years
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Why do I feel guilty for being happy? Like I am happiest sitting in the trunk of the car at the lake alone reading and listening to music and watching movies and just being alone in the van and then I have to like force myself to get back in the drivers seat and go home to be alone at home like even if I did the same stuff in my bedroom it wouldn't make me happy the same way. I feel so bad for this change I feel like I'm avoiding my mom when I'm not it's just like memories of dad and friends I don't talk to anymore and like yeah it's just a lot easier to sit in the car and be happy so why do I feel so bad when I'm happy driving around
#i love my mom I love my bedroom I love my dog I love my house I love my yard and my neighbors but why did he have to die down the street#like dude#it's literally the closer I get to my house the worse this fucking black cloud is over my head#i just want to get away from it and the twenty minutes to drive to the lake seems to be just enough for me to get away from it all and just#live in the moment#and it's perfect. it's fucking perfect. but then I have to get up and go home cause I can't sit in the car forever#and I used to sit in the driveway at the old house parked for an hour after I got home#but now we've got real neighbors and no trees surrounding the yard we're so painfully visable to everyone I just want to sit outside but#also hide from the world at the same time and that's why I miss New England and trees surrounding my bedroom and climbing out my window to#smoke on a little wooden stool I made in eighth grade and I miss that old house so much and I can never go back and they cut all the trees#down anyways#the trees that watched me cry when I walked home from school and jump rope and laugh and smoke cigs with my best friend at the time and now#the trees are gone#it feels like a piece of me is still with that house in New Hampshire even though new people live there and maybe there's a part of my dad#there too that I'm not getting back#i can see him so clearly in my brain sitting at his desk in that house#i can see it clearer than I can see him anywhere in the new house he isn't with us he is in New Hampshire he isn't here it's so painfully#obvious that he isn't here anymore and it just hurts I don't wanna think about the house I just want to sit at the lake and cry in the trunk#like I'm doing rn cause fuck I made the tears happen thinking about New Hampshire and growing up and changing and death and my dad#it's just really hard to deal with sometimes and I had a great day today but I'm still ending it by crying
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bubblegum-snowdrop · 1 month
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you know what. fuck this shit (turns into a salmon and 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟)
Careful, you'll get eaten by the bears
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esleep · 8 months
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i actually do kinda like delivering groceries on the side because it gives me such a unique cross-section of the community. i never know whose groceries im shopping for until i finish the delivery and see them/their home and it's like it adds more detail to the picture of who they are. the baby supplies going to the apartment that i know for a fact is one bedroom (they'll be moving soon - i bet they're apartment hunting, i hope they find a place). the new cat litter box, bowl, and kitten food going to the house covered in "i <3 my dog" paraphernalia (a kitten definitely showed up on the porch recently and made itself at home). the fairly healthy boring grocery order that includes an incongruous tub of candy-filled ice cream going to the home of an elderly woman with toddler toys in the yard (it's clearly for her grandkids, whom she sees often).
shopping for someone else's groceries is a fairly intimate thing. i've bought condoms and pregnancy tests, allergy medicine and nyquil, baby benadryl and teething gel, a huge pile of veggies paired with an equally huge pile of junk food, tampons and shampoo and closet organizers and ant traps and deodorizing shoe inserts and a million other little things that tell a million different stories in their endless combinations. one time someone had me buy one single green bean. i messaged them to confirm that's actually what they wanted, and they said yes - neither of them liked green beans very much, but they had a baby they were introducing to solid foods, and they wanted to let him try one to see if he liked them. another time i had someone request 50 fresh roma tomatoes - not for a restaurant, but for a person in an apartment. the kitchen behind them smelled like basil and garlic when they opened the door. another time i brought groceries to three elderly blind women who share a house. that was one of the few times i have ever broken my rule and gone inside a place i've delivered to, because they asked if i could place the grocery bags in a specific location in the kitchen for them to work on unloading and there was no way i was going to refuse helping.
i gripe about the poor tippers, but people can also be incredibly kind. one time i took shelter from a sudden vicious hailstorm inside an older lady's home in a trailer park, while i was in the middle of delivering her groceries. we both huddled just inside the door, watching in shock as golf-ball-sized hail swept through for about five minutes and then disappeared. she handed me an extra $10 bill on my way out the door.
when covid was at its deadliest, people would leave extra (often lysol-scented) cash tips and thank-you notes for me taped to the door or partially under the mat. i especially loved the clearly kid-drawn thank you notes with marker renderings of blobby people in masks, or trees, or rainbows. in summer of 2020 i delivered to a nice older couple who lived outside of town in the hills, and they insisted i take a huge double handful of extra disposable gloves and masks to wear while shopping - those were hard to find in stores at the time, but they wanted me to have some of their supply and wouldn't take no for an answer.
anyway. all this to say people are mostly good, or at least trying to be, despite my complaints.
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poorlittlevampire · 11 months
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i love this lyric it reminds me of when i was like seven and all the neighborhood kids were out playing and trying to climb a big tree in one of our yards and no one could do it, but i finally found my way up it only for everyone to leave the yard and i couldn’t get down and none of them heard me call to them for help so i had to jump and landing hurt a lot bc i was too high up
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peterthepark · 2 years
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𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough van sex, dirty talk, analplay, sub!eddie but also very much switch!eddie, lust at first sight, major mutual pining, a sprinkle of perv!eddie but hes sexy so its okay, (1) guest appearance by dustin, post vol. 2 fix-it fic, 7k filth
summary: she’s the girl next door. eddie is the metalhead freak who’s just barely clearing his name after a whole town fiasco. opposites attract but certainly not like this, and certainly not in the back of eddie’s van.
a/n: pov vol 2 ended on a positive note and eleven miraculously fixed everything so a freshly-graduated eddie can now live his life to the fullest!!!!!!!! aka what should’ve happened… minors dni. not for u.
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It’s rare for Eddie Munson to be roaming the white-picket fence suburbs of Hawkins. It feels like a fantasyland — golden retrievers and tabby cats, designated trash days and bright, green grass full of yellow daffodils, oak trees with makeshift swings and wooden playgrounds built by loving fathers. It’s too perfect, too uncanny, and Eddie knows deep down that he doesn’t belong in such a world as nice as this one. 
But the suburbs of Hawkins are also welcoming.
When he gives Dustin a ride from school to home, when the noon is at its peak, golden rays and soft sprinklers making rainbows rise from the soil, he thinks — for a moment or two — that he belongs. He could if he wanted to. When Henderson invites him over for dinner, or when Harrington needs help fixing his car, when Mike needs relationship advice (as if Eddie could know anything about that) and when Robin wants to know more about Iron Maiden to impress the metalhead ladies, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t so bad on this side of town.
That is until he saw you. And he realized then why everyone called this part of Hawkins a slice of paradise.
Pretty college student. Cut-off shorts from the Gap paired with baggy baseball tees, and a cute nose always stuffed in a romance novel or — some days — a textbook. Glossy lips, adorable socks and checkered picnic blankets where you’d lay out on the too-pristine yard, kicking your legs back and forth as if acting like eye candy was your specialty. 
The perfect poster girl of Hawkins with just enough rough edges to be labelled the girl next door. 
Only, Eddie doesn’t live next door to you. Dustin does. 
“The least you could tell me is her name, Henderson. I don’t want gas money, I want her name. Spelled out for me, syllable by syllable. Government name.” Eddie rambles, shifting impatiently in the driver’s seat as Dustin leans over the passenger window from the outside. “We’re sitting ducks here, man. What if she sees us spying on her damn fence like some creeps?”
The curly-haired sophomore sighs, fingers strung together as he frowns at his older friend, “You are a grown ass man, Eddie. All you have to do is ask her, just say hi, make an impression or something! You can’t just be looking at her from afar everytime you come over, blasting this Metallica shit…”
“You are on very thin ice, boy.” Eddie wags a finger at him, wide eyes bouncing between Dustin and the front of your house. “I don’t know her like you know her. I don’t wanna be weird, especially after just putting all this town satanic cult bull behind my ass. She might think — dammit, I don’t know… I just wouldn’t wanna scare the girl, okay?” He sucks in a deep breath, shrugging the thought off with a hopeful smile, “Not this time.”
“Disgusting.” 
He snaps his head towards Dustin, reaching over and rustling the cap on his head with a playful smirk. “You’re disgusting, you fuckin’ booger.”
And as if on cue, like every other day he’s been through this neighborhood, Eddie watches your figure emerge from the porch, picnic blanket and weathered paperback in hand. His jaw goes slack at the image of your denim overall-clad frame, nothing but a bikini-like bra underneath the number while a fresh cigarette dangles from your lips. So much skin — the exposed flesh of your neck, the salty beads of sweat rolling down your collarbone, the cherubic glow of your complexion and the alluring blush of your lips as you sit out on the yard. 
Fuck.
A loud boom pulls the metalhead from his trance. Dustin’s palm comes down against the flimsy van door. “Earth to Eddie? Get a grip, you’re drooling.” 
And all he can really say is: “She’s so damn pretty.”
Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just really that in-deep with a girl who he has never, ever spoken to. Maybe he’s a pervert rather than a misunderstood freak and this is all just completely wrong of him. But, god, it feels so right to stare. Eddie can’t help it, especially once you catch sight of Dustin and send him an adorable little wave — then your eyes flicker over to Eddie’s dumbfounded expression inside the van, where you wave at him too. 
And the twenty one year-old swears he dies. Right at that moment. His heart skips several beats all at once, possibly even flatlining as a small smile falls upon your graceful features, bursting right out of his chest even as you look away and immediately redirect your attention to the walkman in your pocket like you hadn’t just casually murdered him alive. 
Fuck me, he thinks.
The next time Eddie sees you, he gets a little more than a wave. He’s reveling in this newfound attention as he bounces down the steps of Dustin’s porch and catches sight of you on the other side of the fence, already staring his way before he sends you a nerdy two-finger salute with a close-lipped smile. And just before he reaches the sidewalk, your sweet voice stops him in his determined tracks. 
“Metallica at three p.m. in this neighborhood is a death wish, you know.” 
Eddie turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows hesitantly. He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face, lips parted into a skinny ‘O’ that makes him look like a fish out of water as you finally make eye contact. He heats up immediately from the inside, belly churning and throat tightening when you give him a once over. And it seems like you don’t exactly care for subtlety either — blown pupils raking over his tattooed arms, taking in the torn rips of his shirt-turned-tank-top and the tanlines just above his elbows. 
He hopes you think that the scars on his body are just as badass (if not, more) than his tats. 
Say something. “Didn’t know music was on a schedule.” Eddie manages to follow along with a shrug, lips tugging to the side nervously.
In response, you smile. You fucking smile as if he hadn’t just said the most stupid response ever. It’s gentle, airy, almost effortless as crescent-like lines shape your warm cheeks and you cup a hand over your eyes, adorably squinting through the bright sunlight. “Oh, believe me, I had Iron Maiden on blast one time and ever since then, the whole block has been thinking I’m some sort of cult apologist.”
His heart grows like a balloon filling with helium, voice even going so far to climb several octaves of excitement as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You… you listen to that kind of stuff?”
You play with the lacy strap of your top. You’re beaming widely at him from the other side of the fence. “Do you judge books by their covers, mister?”
“No, ma’am.” Eddie swipes the glistening pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, stifling the grin that threatens to spread across his mouth. Sheepish, he shakes his head. “I think I underestimated you then. I’m… I’m sorry I…”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I have a bunch of mixtapes back in my room. Ozzy, Dio, some Sabbath. No one really gets it, but you… you seem like you do.”
And Eddie wonders: could you get any more damn perfect? The suburban denim dream, the girl next door, the quintessential concoction of every teenage boy’s fantasy and every teenage girl’s desire… listens to metal music? And not just AC/DC or KISS (because everyone loves those guys), but the same music he’s grown up with and loved? 
He can’t help but picture you in your bed, records spread out across your comforter as you switch between Dream Evil and Peace of Mind. Your limbs stretched out on the mattress, shirt riding up with nothing but black panties underneath as you rock out to his favorites. 
Yeah. He’ll think about that one a lot.
“I definitely get it. I do, I really do. I love metal.” Eddie rambles, hoping to keep your attention by stalling this conversation as much as possible. You nod at him with those big, innocent eyes and roll your fleshy lip between your teeth, keen to every stupid word that falls from his tongue. “But hey, it can be our little secret, then.” He leisurely gravitates towards the van while you match his strides, taking note of his quavering pitch and the use of Eddie’s own hands waving through the air wildly as he attempts to withhold his nervousness. “And again, just for peace of mind, I didn’t mean to judge. I figured…”
“Madonna?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. Feels the anxiety in his stomach build even more. “Nothin’ wrong with Madonna, though. Sexy tunes. Can’t deny that.”
Sexy tunes. Come on, Munson.
But that draws a giggle right out of you, “Sexy tunes, indeed.” Then, you’re both leaning against the side of his van. No fence or Dustin coming between the two of you, just your sweaty bodies and Hawkins’ summer heat seeping through your thin clothes. You hold your palm out, fingers welcomingly outstretched. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 
Eddie’s gaze bounces from your smaller hand to the doting expression on your face before gingerly enveloping it in his own. “Eddie. Edward. E-Eddie. You can…” You give him a gentle squeeze, a sure smile dusting over your lips. “You can just call me Eddie, or whatever. Whatever you want, Y/N.”
“Well,” You laugh again, and Eddie blushes profusely at the lighthearted noise. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Whatever.” You share another one of those looks, and he swears that this time — this time, your eyes do all the talking that needs to be done. “I think we’ll get along really well… Eddie.”
His name has never sounded so perfect out loud.
Eddie sees you again. 
And again. Every time he drops Dustin off. Again. Leant against the side of his van. Talking and talking, until there’s nothing to talk about — but it’s rare. He always has something to talk about, even when his voice fails him and he stutters or stumbles over syllables because you’re so fucking pretty and he’s… he’s just Eddie. But you see him differently than the others, so he supposes that maybe being “just Eddie” isn’t such an awful thing after all. 
Again, you talk. The sidewalk. Along the road. On your lawn. Sometimes, Eddie will even join you on your blanket, skim through your books and take note of what you read, then he’ll recommend “true” literature like Lord of the Rings or something else with elves and witches. 
Summer has never felt so long. 
Again.
Until again becomes every afternoon. Even on the days Dustin doesn’t need a ride home anymore. Even on the days he has to practice with his band at four, but he can always just come see you at three and drive back because it’s no big deal. Even on the days your parents say you need to stop talking to that Munson boy because he’s no good, but who fucking cares? 
Again, anyways.
You’re not scared of him. He’s not scary. He never was.
And so afternoons turn into nights. And nights consist of sneaking out to Eddie’s van that he’s parked a few houses down the street, because God forbid he talks to the innocent girl next door. Innocent is one fat hoax. You’re smoking pot with him in the back of his fucking van for Ozzy’s sake, giggly and unrelenting as you sit next to each other and drench yourselves in the scent of weed and Eddie’s drugstore cologne while Metallica plays faintly in the background.
He’s all man, but soft with his eyes. Soft in the way he looks at you. Crude in the way he secretly desires you. Now that he knows you, really knows you, you aren’t just beautiful. 
You’re completely devastating. 
You take a long drag of his joint, wincing as the paper sizzles and burns orange. “Fuck, I wish I tried getting high sooner. You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”
Eddie hums with a toothy grin, fiddling with the pair of flimsy headphones in his lap. “And yet you still meet me back here every night.”
“Why do I even do that?” 
“Um, ‘cause I got, like, really fucking good ‘A’ quality weed and impeccable taste in music.” He shrugs nonchalantly, eyes following the mold of your lips around the bud. “Easy there, tigress. Don’t hog it.”
“You said…”
“I said, you could have one hit. And now, I’m confiscating it.”
You groan in protest as Eddie leans over to your side of the van and snatches the blunt from you, tossing it into a mushroom shaped ashtray as he gazes at you curiously. “Since when did you become so mean to me?”
“Weed is meant to be treasured, Y/N. And plus, I’m always mean.”
He has to admit — there has been tension between the two of you ever since your afternoon catch-ups turned into late night talking. Maybe he’s imagining it, but surely you feel it too. The bubbling in his stomach when your elbows brush in such a confined space. The heat rushing to his cheeks when you laugh and place a hand on his thigh, or the dizzy rush flooding your forehead when he picks a flyaway strand of hair off of your shoulder. The increase in your heartbeats as you stare at each other for a minute too long, even sneaking in a second glance because you just have to. 
“You know what you should treasure?” You quirk a brow at him. A smirk tugs upon your lips as you dig through your pocket and pull out a cassette tape, shaking it in front of Eddie’s face. “This week’s mix I made you.”
“My mix is better.” He flicks his walkman open, switching out the tape inside for the one you hand him. “Here’s yours, ma’am.”
And he supposes that no one really expected that his friendship with the girl next door would be founded on trading music with each other. Ever since you and Eddie found out your tastes were in alignment, you made it a goal to introduce new songs to him — Madonna included. Sexy tunes. 
You think he could get used to the oddity of The Cure. He thinks he can convince you that Guns N’ Roses will eventually be a rock sensation. You’re skeptical. Maybe.
So you marinate in each other’s stagnant presence, leaning on opposite walls of his metal tin can of a van, holding your own walkmans with ears caressed by Koss headphones and lids shut as your heads bob to the acoustics. Eddie can’t help but crack an eye open, sneaking a peek at your chewed lip and your look of concentration. 
“I like this one.” You pipe up, feeling his stare on you. He glances away before you can actually catch him, training his gaze on the mess of blankets behind the driver’s seat. “You know, your choices this week are very interesting, Munson.”
Suggestive. His choices are suggestive, is what you’re thinking. From the first to the last track, the list of songs messily etched onto the cassette with the most boyish handwriting you’d ever seen, you can only hope that the metalhead holds some sort of attraction for you in the same manner you do for him. 
Eddie chuckles, and winces apologetically at you. “I still hate The Cure, by the way.”
You nod unconvinced, and pull one of the cups of your headphones away from your ear. There’s a smile of amusement, an interested dimple in your cheek. “And yet you included The Perfect Girl on here?” 
“Only because it made me think of you.”
For once, he realizes that he has flustered you. Your jaw goes slack, your pupils widen, brows softening before your nose crinkles at him. “Shut up, Eddie.”
His palms raise in a peaceful surrender, ringed fingers wiggling adorably. “You asked, Y/N.” A beat. Then you’re playfully throwing a jacket at his face and squealing before he instinctively lunges forward at you, gentle hands pulling you back by the elbows. Despite the struggle, eventually he’s pinned to the floor of the van and you’re on top of him straddling his soft belly. “Get off, you monster!” He near-giggles, sputtering as his hair gets into his mouth and he feels your body racking with laughter. 
“You’re so rude to me. Like the rudest. When has The Cure ever hurt you?” You pant out, chest rising and falling steadily as you both catch your breath. Eddie’s headphones haphazardly hug his head, walkman in the palm that rests above him. “Do you treat your girlfriend this way, hm?”
“No girlfriend.” 
“Oh?” 
“Mmm, I thought it was obvious.” He replies quietly, the sound comes out more like a soft moan rather than an agreement. His plushy lips are wet with saliva, tongue poking between the pink flesh as his eyes flicker from your parting mouth to your curious, swirling irises. “S’why I’m here with you.”
“So I’m the second choice is what you’re…”
“Please, you are farthest from the second choice, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, ribs rumbling against his torso. Only then does he become hyper aware of the way your breasts push up against his shirt, the warmth of your skin intermixing with his, your nipples hardening against the thin white fabric of your camisole. Sweetheart, you repeat. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. “Do you have one?”
“A girlfriend?” You ask, tone playful and curious.
Careless Whisper echoes through his headphones; your mixtape is still looping through his walkman as you trail your fingers down his wrists and brace yourself on his chest. 
Fucking hell. It’s ironic. It’s pathetic. George Michael needs to shut up. Why is this damned song on here? He’s struggling to think, struggling to focus on the words coming from your mouth, struggling to keep it in his pants because you keep shifting farther and farther away from his stomach, and more and more towards his crotch. Focus. Tune out that stupid saxophone.
“Sure.” He shrugs breathlessly, tingling with anticipation. 
“Nope.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Not yet, no. Why is this a conversation, Eddie?” You bite your lip cheekily, knees planted firmly on either side of his lean body when you gaze down at him then survey the still-lit joint resting on his ashtray. Silence, then: “Can I have a hit? Please?”
Eddie glances at your lips, fixating on how your tongue darts out to lick at the sticky gloss. The moonlight casts a glow over your frame, highlighting the path of your curves through your tank top. And without really taking his eyes off of your beautiful face, his fingers reach for the blunt, a blush spreading across his chiseled cheeks when your hand brushes against his to grab it. 
Please.
A sizzle rustles through the heavy air as you take a slow drag.
And Eddie can’t help himself. Not this time.
“You’re so pretty, you know that?”
You’re slowly tossing the perfectly-good blunt aside, leaning down and lazily grabbing Eddie gingerly by his chin. 
He thinks you’re gonna kiss him.
And before he can lift his head to meet you, instead, you’re blowing a puff of smoke between his parted lips with an exhale. “Fuck… ing… heck…” He instantly groans, eyelids drooping as your ass pushes against him teasingly like you hadn’t just shotgunned into his goddamn mouth. Party trick. You flutter your lashes bashfully, dimples poking at your cheeks as Eddie gapes at you just inches away from your face. “Y/N, where the fuck did you… learn that?”
You sigh. “Eddie Munson, you just keep on underestimating me.” 
“I really do, I really fucking do…” He huffs, knuckles turning white around his walkman as you sensually tug his headphones off. “I just — just thought you were…”
“Innocent? Oblivious? I may be your girl next door fantasy… or whatever the fuck you Hawkins boys think about me…” You smirk, taking Eddie’s much-larger hands into yours and placing them firmly on your hips. “… but I am not fucking blind… you’ve been acting so off this entire night, must need something to take the edge off, don’t you?”
Fucking Ozzy. He can’t take it. His lips tug into a wince. “That easy, huh?”
Red-handed, you coo. “The easiest.”
“So technically you’re calling me easy, then?” Eddie jokes, heart pounding against his chest as he tenderly digs his fingertips into your love handles.
This is what he’s wanted. This is it. 
And it’s not a fucking dream at all. It’s absolutely heaven. 
Just like heaven.
“Eh, I think it’s endearing. The way you…” He curses under his breath as you lean over and trail your mouth up his jawline, biting his earlobe. “… savor me… savor looking at me. The way you think I don’t notice your stare, when your eyes wander a couple inches down whenever I talk? Oh, you think you’re so slick. I’m not naïve. Why do you think we hang out in your van at night?”
He shudders when your teeth find the cool surface of the guitar pick around his neck. “You’re evil, sweetheart.”
“And you’re horny, but maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.”
“No, definitely…” Eddie laughs nervously, swallowing as he looks down at you. “Definitely not. I’m… fuck, I’m fine. I’m good.”
“Or, maybe I should.” Back and forth banter. It’s natural with you. Too natural, almost like it has always meant to be like this between the eager pair of you. You don’t kiss him, not yet. He can wait. “Acting like a gentleman, like my friend, when in reality you can’t help but think of banging me everytime we see each other?”
“M’sorry, okay? We are friends — fuck, Y/N. Can’t focus… can’t exactly t-talk when you’re on my lap like that.”
Heat pools to his lower stomach, breaths quickening as his hands mindlessly drift down to your upper thighs, squeezing your skin through your little shorts when you grind against him. “Like this? How does it feel? Touching me, feeling me on you like this?”
Eddie’s eyes are dark, almost black in the dim shadows of his van. He looks up at you with the most dilated, entranced look, and you swear it almost makes you break. “Feels… feels so nice. Warm. I just… fuck, I don’t… don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do… Y/N, goddamnit…”
“I think it’s both clear what we want, no?” You press a kiss to his cheek, running your thumb along the skin beneath his lower lashes. His self-control is slowly diminishing, inch by inch, he feels himself melting in your presence. “I stare, too, just so you know. I stare a lot.”
“Yeah?” Eddie lifts a shaky hand, nervously cupping your jaw and nudging his nose against yours. His voice ghosts your skin, raspy and more of a whimper than a command. “Tell me about it.”
Your mouth hovers over his, lips barely brushing against each other. Touching, touching, touching, only to pull away at the very last second. He can almost just taste the marijuana from your tongue, almost taste the honey dripping from your voice as you peck the corner of his lips. Almost. “I look at your arms, and your really cool tattoos, then I picture… where else you have them on your body…” You gasp into his ear as his hips rut into you, his fingers drawing shapes against the side of your face. “Picture your lips on my chest… kissing me, leaving marks… bruises, hickies, whatever you want, Munson. Your mouth between my — my thighs… tugging on your hair because you’d be so good to me, wouldn’t you?”
“M’want you so bad. You don’t know the half of it.” He whispers, stroking a knuckle across the shadow of your cupid’s bow. “Please… let me… fuck, let me kiss you. Please, Y/N. Want it so bad. Been wanting you ever since summer started. Makin’ me crazy, got me feeling like I’m insane with the way I just… just obsess over us.”
He’s earned it. 
“Like I said, whatever you want.” You grin devilishly.
Eddie’s lips finally collide with yours, erotically wet and far from smooth. It’s incongruous, sweaty skin rubbing against each other and clothes rustling as Eddie sits up, your arms swaddling his lanky frame while you crane your neck to kiss him deeply. His hair is in your mouth, his nose smushed against the side of your face, strained groans slipping from his throat as he traverses down your neck, selfishly licking the divot of your collarbone before his palms are venturing under your camisole. 
“You’re so fucking hot.” He whines, lashes fluttering against your thin bra as he pulls your top over your head. He’s mouthing at the cups, biting at the stringy lace of your push-up before he’s tugging the material down to reveal your nipples. “I just… fuck, I’m just in awe of you. You’re the perfect girl, and I get to have you.” He wraps his lips around the hardened bud, moaning as he alternates between the two and litters your flesh in dark hickies. You fist his hair, caving into his frame. “You’re so sexy. Just… fucking… took the words out of me, leavin’ me speechless… I’ll make you feel so f-fucking good if you let me.”
Your head rolls back as he kisses up the underside of your chin, meeting your lips in a more tender kiss. Your nails trail underneath his Iron Maiden ringer tee, lightly tracing over the raised scars on his abdomen, his belly, skimming over his sparse happy trail and the subtlety of his v-line. “You’re all talk, Eddie… wanna make me feel good?” He nods meekly, the veins in his neck flexing as you stroke his brow bone. “Think you should start by undressing me…”
“Christ, please.”
And without a beat, Eddie’s reaching around you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside so that it lands over the back of the driver’s seat. He kisses his way down your belly, the little pudge when you sit, only for him to lay you down on your back, clumping up a bunch of jackets to make a pillow for your head. His fingers unbutton your shorts, tugging them down the length of your legs with your panties until they get caught on your Chucks. 
He takes those off too. Quite frankly, chucks the Chucks across the van with a squeaky mutter of ‘goddamn shoes…’  before he’s pocketing a lineup of chunky rings into his jeans.
Eddie’s mouth makes up for the dorky mishap, his lips make haste against your tender calves, biting the squish of your thighs and nudging his nose against the glossy patches of arousal on the inside of your skin. He inhales the scent of your cunt, and you jerk with a moan of surprise as he kisses you there, open and fluttering for him while he lays on his stomach.
He’s never seen such a pretty pussy. It emboldens him, leaves him brazen and aching for more even though it’s the first time he’s ever seen you this naked. Even though he’s barely even had you, he still needs more.
“Need you so bad it hurts.” Eddie growls, looking up at you with a smirk as you gnaw on your bottom lip. “You’re just… fuck, how did you get this wet? God, you’re unreal, baby… let me? Please? Let me… let me eat it… I’ll do anything…”
Let me. Let me. Let me. It’s his mantra. You’d be lying if you deny that it stirs something animalistic within you.
You nod violently, biting down on your forefinger as he props you up against the wall of the van and parts your knees even further before he’s shoving his face into you. Your hands dart straight into his curls again, pulling and tugging until you’re holding him by a wiry ponytail, watching the eager way he suckles at the bundle of nerves just at the apex of your sex. 
Eddie feels like a fucking virgin. Desperate. Impatient. Aggressive. He’s too excited — it displays itself when he slips two digits into your needy slit, taking in how you instantly buck against him. You need him. Need him in the same manner he needs this. His ego fires up as he drives his fingers further, running his tongue over and back and down your clit until your grip on his hair becomes suffocating.
“Having fun down there, h-hm?” You croak. Even with his head buried between your thighs, you’re mischievous, challenging, witty. He’d fuck the brains out of you if he could, but honestly, he isn’t even sure if he could survive one second with his cock in your little fist. “Fuckkk. You’re makin’ me feel so good, Eds…” Your head hits the metal wall, a soft bang that goes unnoticed with all the squelching and creaming as Eddie scissors his fingers. 
“You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect, I love the way you look right now, s’fucking hot… could cum just by watching you.”
“Yeah? Just wait — just fucking wait till I suck you off.”
Eddie can’t wrap his thoughts around it. His tongue, his hands, where he’s buried inside you. He’s wanted this, ever since the start of summer, and he’s here with the girl he thought was untouchable — the perfect girl with a perfect, filthy secret that is him. 
You’re grinding your mound against his mouth, quivering jaw unhinged in the darkness of his large van. His eyes flicker up to your tits, slick with his spit and your own as a dribble of saliva falls from your lips, tainting your skin. 
For once, you aren’t put-together. He’s ripping your façade apart at the seams and leaving nothing to sew back.
“You’re a fucking mess, Y/N… oh, I do this to you?” He’s touching you till you’re vibrating and mewling. He’s lapping every drop of you up, tasting you permanently on his lips as he prods at your clit. “Fuck, honey…” Eddie bites you, hard enough to nurse a bruise on the inside of your thigh. “Please cum for me, yeah? Jus’ look how wet I’ve gotten you, sweetheart… you’re practically — oh, my god… you’re practically gaping… you wanna cum that bad?”
You really can’t help it. Not when he’s cooing at you with that whiny voice, teasing and suggestive as your cunt spasms over his pink knuckles. Your hips rise from the carpet flooring, and Eddie leaves another bite-mark on your stomach as slick trickles out of you. You don’t moan. You don’t scream, nor cry. Just a broken whimper and a restrained, quiet utterance of Eddie’s name beneath your breath. 
Somehow, it makes his cock pulse even harder.
He gently kisses your cunt, running a soothing tongue over the bruises he’s left and the dip in where your hip meets your thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.” He smells the aftermath of your orgasm, really smelling you this time, and it ends up driving him nuts. “Oh, Y/N… your pussy…” You follow his gaze, letting out a lewd sound as Eddie admires the puffiness of your folds, swollen and open from his work. You jolt as soon as he tries to spread you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to get so damn rough with you. You tasted so fucking nice, s’all.”
“No, I…” You brush his hair away from his face, pushing his bangs aside as he sits up and wedges himself between your knees. “I love rough. I can take it. I can take this.” Your other hand palms him through his jeans, before you’re dipping yourself beneath his waistband, hairs prickling at your skin as you grasp him. “Do you want me to be rough with you, Eds? Because I just… I really, really want your cock, and I… I dunno if I can hold myself back…”
“Oh, you little slut.” He gasps brazenly as you pull his shirt off, eyes wide at your sudden conviction for him, “Take it. Take me, Y/N. I’m all yours, whatever you fucking want.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, baby.”
You smirk, helping him kick off his jeans and boxers. Your cunt pathetically gapes for him once he’s bare, contracting around nothingness as Eddie takes your place against the wall. He leans back, and you just stare — drinking him in the same way he drinks you in. Your puffy nipples, still damp from his spit, your darkened neck a testament to his artistry, your mouth parting in awe as you fit his erect cock into your hand. Barely.
He’s big — lengthwise, and it curves heavily in your grasp as you lean down to pop him between your lips. Eddie nearly knees you, palms flying to cover his face as he desperately cries your name. “Y/N… oh, f-fucking… oh, Jesus…” You rake your nails up and down his thighs, licking a stripe up his manhood as you play with his sopping tip.
You chuckle in amusement around him, “Such a leaky cock. You like that, Eds? Mmm, you messy boy. All this pre-cum and I’ve… aw, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me what feels good, ‘kay?”
“S’all of it… all of it is — it’s good… fuck, words are so… words…” He melts even more as you sheathe him into your mouth, stuttering as he feels you hold back a gag. Your whole body convulses, back arching upwards as Eddie watches you take and take and take. “Oh, Y-Y/N… you just keep — keep getting better and better. Holy shit.” His belly aches with desire, tightening with each bob of your head and every seductive blink of your eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Thought about you.. whenever you’d — mmm, whenever you’d lay out on that darn lawn, what if I took you right there? What if I just… fucked you on that grass…”
“You and your dirty mouth, Munson.” You glare up at him in feigned annoyance, jerking his shaft with fast, purposeful movements. “I think it’s funny… how you pretend like you’re such a nice guy when really, you’re only a perv for me.”
“So what? Are you gonna punish me?” He challenges beadily, tongue poking out between gritted teeth like he could win this fight. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty girl?”
And just like that, the air changes. He feels the shift, the veil that falls over your eyes, nothing but sex and his scent running in your mind.
“No, Eds.” You move to straddle his thigh; your bare cunt dragging against his scarred skin. “I’m gonna make you beg.” 
You take him into your fist again, stroking him between the generous suction of your lips and the sweep of your tongue. He tastes good to your surprise, and then you’re creating a pool of spit that trickles from his abdomen to his balls. 
Messy girl. “Christ, Y/N.”
You release him with an erotic pop! — there’s stringy saliva connecting you to the crown of his cock, your throat is raw, his dick impatient, twitchy and excited. “You wanna fuck me so bad, you can’t even think straight. Look at my hand right now, look how tiny it looks when I hold you…” You grind yourself against his knee, groaning with him as you quicken your pace. Your brows furrow, a wicked grin ghosting itself over your features. “Baby, are you going to cum already?”
“Y/N, don’t s-stop. I’m beggin’ you, please…”
“Oh, you’re begging? This is what you call begging?”
“Please, s’too hard.”
“Too hard? What’s too hard? Me not letting you cum, or…” You give him one good jerk, twisting your fist so that your thumb brushes over his white-coated tip. “… your cock? Because you’re awfully, awfully rock hard right now. I bet it hurts doesn’t it, my love?” My love. His eyes gloss over. Your mouth hugs the shell of his ear. “You wanna cum?”
“Y-Yes…” He near-whimpers. Desperate. “Wanna cum so badly.”
“No.”
You release him for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. His climax dwindles back to square one, and his leg thrashes out in dismay. There’s sweat beading down your forehead, drops forming on Eddie’s brow bone as he scowls at you. 
You kiss him, almost like an apology, but Eddie can tell you’re not sorry. Far from it. You enjoy this, enjoy getting him off just to start over and make him beg. Is it so sick that he likes it? The more you stretch this interaction out, the more he gets to touch you. Like now, as you swing your knees on either side of him, his palm gingerly clasping the nape of your neck as he presses your face to his.  
“Let me fuck you? Let me be inside?” He pleads, nudging his nose against yours in anguished yearning. He drags his hand over your cheek, enveloping your jaw with outstretched fingers. “Just wanna bury myself inside you and stay there. Don’t even wanna cum anymore, I promise. I promise I’ll fuck you so good, m’not pathetic like the other guys… wanna feel you jus’ dripping on me, Y/N.”
You don’t answer, just gasp into his parted mouth as you line each other up. The angry head of his cock catches on your swell, snagging your clit before his tip lodges itself inside you and he — quite literally — goes rigid. You curse, slowly sinking down his length until your pussy refuses to take more. 
“You’re s-so big.”
Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking burst. “Sweetheart,” He pants, panicked and frenzied as you squeeze around him. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, arms thrown around his body as he tangles his slender fingers into your scalp and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, I can feel every p-part of you… you’re so — fuck, just like that, you wet messy thing.” He whines, the curve of your ass coming down against his lap as you keenly bounce on his cock. He meets you with gentle thrusts, your cunt already milking him thin. “Look at you, fuck, you’re loving this.”
“E-Eddie…” Your tits are squished against his pecs, his necklace sandwiching itself between your damp skin. “More. More. Give it…”
“You can’t take it, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I can take it. I can. It’s not enough, I’m telling you.” You rut your hips stubbornly, guiding his palms to your waist before he’s carefully rolling you onto your side and hiking your calf over the tender slope of his shoulder. “S’not nearly enough, Eds.”
“Okay.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply as he slips himself deeper inside you. The stretch stings harshly, flashes of white prickling at the cones of your vision as he splits you raw and wide open. “Is this enough? You fuckin’… god, you perfect whore…” Your spine tingles as Eddie tugs you closer by the hip, ramming himself into you relentlessly. “… such perfect tits, a perfect leaky cunt…” He presses a kiss to your ankle, before flipping you onto your knees so that he can fuck you from behind. He wants to see you, see you flutter for him, feed his sick thoughts and relive the nights where he jerked himself off in this very van in empty parking lots to the idea of you. “… and this perfect ass… another hole waiting to be used, right, Y/N? You’d let me use it, wouldn’t you? If I’m nice enough, I bet you’d let me fuck it…”
Fucking hell.
You cum as soon as he dips the pad of his thumb against the responsive ring of muscle. You both grow feral at the sensation. Soaked. Pussy chafed raw from his cock. You can’t tell whose fluids are whose, if it’s Eddie’s spit or yours, if it’s your juices or his — the embarrassing manner in which your cunt just sucks him in, the tight walls of your ass fluttering around his gentle finger as he drives into you.
How is the van still upright? Eddie doesn’t know. 
He’s an Ozzy clusterfuck of strangled, broken sounds and you’re a broken record player of Eddie-Eddie-Eds-Please, I’m cumming!
He doesn’t stop. Even when you’re shaking and bent-half in now missionary, he sheathes himself inside you till his pelvic bone is crushed to your body. “You feel so good, I’m sorry… I can’t — can’t stop, baby…”
“Don’t. Don’t stop, it’s a-alright.” You heave out, interlocking fingers as his glistening cock disappears into your used cunt. “It’s a l-lot, but it’s okay.” Eddie’s body engulfs you, your heels digging into the dimples in his lower back as he pounds into you. “You’re such a good — good boy, fuck…”
“Yeah?” He bites your throat. “Say.” The under-swell of your boob. “It.” Your arm. “Again.”
“Good boy. Such a good boy, fucking me the way I deserve.”
“Fucking you like you’re a slut.”
“Fucking me like I’m not the girl next door…” You chuckle, breathy and airy before he knocks the wind right out of you. “The whole town is gonna call me a w-whore for once.”
“Suits you better.”
You swear your soul leaves your body. You’re dying. You are dead, nearly limp in his fumbling boyish hands as he cradles your head against his chest and wipes the sweat from your eyes like he loves you. His balls slap against your loosened rim, his thumb putting pressure on your clit until you’re frantically pushing him away. 
“I can’t cum again. I can’t.” You sob in pleasure, clawing at his tattoos as if they could save you from his insatiable hunger. “Eddie!”
“Need it, need your cum again, Y/N.” Eddie growls, thrusts stuttering and cock pulsating wildly before he’s spitting onto your sex as if you needed to be any more wet. “I-I think you’re so… so fucking cool, you’re just… you’re too good for me, but I fucking adore you.”
I adore you.
I adore you.
You can’t even talk anymore, vocal chords ripped right out of your throat as your stomach cramps, cramps, cramps and then drops to a low point. Crashing. Flatlining. Clenching hopelessly.
You nearly choke Eddie as a hand flies out to touch him, pulling him close as your walls trap him for a second time. Only now, he’s locked in tight, unable to move, unable to go anywhere and he fucking cums immediately because it’s just too inviting. You feel him seeping out of you, painting your holes with his sticky cum as he stills there like a good boy. He grunts against your lips, kissing you poorly as his orgasm eats him alive. 
He’s milked. Spent. 
Eddie collapses on top of you, one leg jutted straight and the other bent as he embraces you close with his whole weight resting on your frame. How can he already miss something he just had? Gaining your strength, you kiss down his shoulder, fingertips swirling over muscle and scar tissue and ink as the smell of him floors you.
It’s so Eddie. Woody, earthy, with a spicy fresh top note reminiscent of oak moss and a hint of gasoline, dry cedar and herbs. It makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He’s drenched in the girlish smell of sex, sweat and salty but you’re eager to taste him anyways.
My good boy, you think. 
“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out raspy and winded, almost sickly but Eddie knows it's a good-sick. 
“Yes, yeah. I just… need a sec.”
“Hm, don’t take too long, Munson.” Shit. Is this over already? Just like that? “Might get wet again.”
Oh. It’s a joke. 
And he laughs, wheezy and exhausted as he irritatedly tugs his own hair out of his mouth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, ma’am.” He leans back on his hinges to properly look at you, your cheeks rubbed red-raw from his teeth and your abused, achy cunt still stuffed full of his prick. “Are you okay?”
“I’m alive.”
“Barely.”
“Barely.” You repeat heartily, shaking your head at him with a look of bewilderment. “S’gonna hurt when you pull out, you know.”
“Are you telling me to stay here forever?”
“If you admit that you like The Cure, then yes…” You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against his wrist. “… I’ll let you stay there forever.”
Forever. You both push down the giddy, cheesy smiles that threaten to spread across your faces. 
“Never. Never ever.” Eddie chuckles. When he tenderly and patiently pulls out, a wet rush slowly floods out of you, his fingers frantically plug you shut — his thick, translucent cum dripping from his knuckles as he selfishly fucks his hot spill back into you like the perv he is. “But that can stay there forever.”
A freak, but not in the way Hawkins thinks.
You melt at the feeling, limbs spasming awkwardly as he spreads himself over your pussy distractedly. His eyes are so goddamn soft, kind, attentive — even when he’s pushing some of it into your poor asshole, he’s still the sweetest guy you’ve ever hooked up with. 
He kisses your clit before he lovingly hikes your panties up your legs. 
Fucker.
“Did I ruin you, sweetheart? Awfully quiet.”
You scoff, shimmying into your shorts and camisole as Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers. “Just wondering how you expect me to climb back into my window after all that.”
“Who said anything about climbing…” He laughs boisterously, leaning over and fixing the strap of your bra. “What do you say I walk you to the porch, ring that bell and introduce myself to mom and pop?”
You stare at him like he’s crazy.
“Absolutely not, Eddie Munson.”
He finds himself liking the suburbs a lot more.
Only this time, he doesn’t imagine himself surrounded by picket fences and golden retrievers, mailboxes with his last name painted in unreadable cursive or having to mow his front lawn at seven in the fucking morning. 
Eddie doesn’t need to when Hawkins’ slice of paradise is just next door. 
And he gets to taste it every fucking day and night. 
So, fuck it. He’ll climb your window so you don’t have to wobble back to your house with his cum dripping down your leg. He’s a gentleman, railing you in the abandoned parking lot of Starcourt because you can’t handle the embarrassment of getting caught by someone at home. He’ll cover your mouth in the shed in your backyard so the neighbors don’t complain about the howling coyotes that have gone loose in the neighborhood. 
God forbid they have coyotes, right? 
But really, they should be worrying about the devastatingly gorgeous girl next door and her favorite, good boy with a dwindling hatred for The Cure.
Even though, the album is growing on him.
He’ll never admit that, though.
27K notes · View notes
aidaronan · 1 year
Text
The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.
Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.
He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.
Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.
He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.
Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.
Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.
He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.
"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."
"Which was?"
"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."
"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."
"That's really nice, Eds."
Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"
Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.
He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...
He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.
He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.
He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.
It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.
"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.
Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.
He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."
"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."
Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.
"You made this whole thing?"
"I did."
"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.
He nods. "For you."
"Why?"
There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."
Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.
"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."
"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."
"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.
"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."
Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.
"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."
"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"
"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."
Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.
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aerynwrites · 8 months
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Longing Pt. 2
Halsin x afab!Reader
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A/N: it’s FINALLY here - sorry for taking so long with it lmao. NSFW stuff, while I love it is so hard for me to write. But here you go! I hope you all enjoy this spicy conclusion to this story!
Word Count: 5.7k
Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY || smut, virgin!Reader, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, PiV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Halsin being a total sweetheart by duh, fluff so much fluff and soft, aftercare (kinda?), outdoor sex, kissing, more fluff.
Part 1 || Masterlist
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The early evening air is warm as it kisses your skin through the forest canopy. It’s the one thing you notice most besides the soft cloth covering your eyes, a familiar warm hand in your own being your guide through the foliage. 
“Halsin, why can’t you just tell me where we’re going?” you ask, laughing through the question. 
“Because, my heart, if I told you what was in store, it would no longer be a surprise,” he rebuffs, and you can practically hear the smile in his words. 
You let out a little huff, but don’t argue further, letting the druid lead you through the forest by hand. 
The journey is slow, with Halsin careful to guide you around any roots or rocks so you don’t stumble over the terrain, and you use the time to try and figure out where he’s taking you.
The smells of the forest fill your nose, the crunch of leaves beneath your feet, and you can even feel the last rays of the day’s light on your skin through the branches of the trees. But what gives you the most information is the sound of water roaring in the distance. 
The waterfall. 
Halsin had shown it to you just a few days prior, having found it on one of his outings in wild shape form. You remember vividly his barely contained excitement as he tugged you through the woods to show you, the blindfold withstanding. 
You start to wonder why he would bring you back here so soon, and you cheeks heat at the first thought that comes to mind. When you had both arrived at the destination last time, you’d wasted little time stripping from your armor down to your underclothes and jumping in - Halsin not far behind you. 
The druid had pulled you into his arms then, lips claiming your own as he maneuvered you both behind the waterfall’s curtain. You had almost jumped the proverbial cliff then, finally feeling comfortable enough to take that final step with him.
But he had pulled away, smiling down at you before tugging you back out into the water and recalling a story from his childhood. 
As the sound of the waterfall grows ever louder, you silently hope for a repeat of those events. 
However, the true intent of this trip is revealed when Halsin finally brings you to a stop, hands sitting comfortingly on your shoulders. 
“We’re here,” he says, gently tugging at the knot holding your blindfold together. 
The cloth falls away from your eyes and you blink to adjust to the light. Your surroundings come into focus slowly and you realize that you are near the same waterfall, but instead of by the river below it, you’re in a small clearing above it. You see the small river that feeds it running steadily by before moving to rush down the cliff side. And the view…it takes your breath away. 
The clearing sits above the valley that holds your camp, letting you see for miles, the slowly descending sun casting an ethereal orange glow over the landscape. 
Finally, your eyes land on what you assume is the last part of the surprise Halsin has planned. 
In the middle of the clearing, just a few yards from the river’s edge, is an arrangement of dozens of furs laid out on the grass. You see a small burlap sack which you assume holds an assortment of food and drinks. And there’s even…candles. Some short, some tall - all of them spread around the space and lit, giving the moment a more… intimate feel than is already present. 
Soft lips press against your temple before trailing down to brush your jaw. 
“What do you think, my love?” 
His words are soft, and you detect a hint of hesitance in them, as if he is worried you would reject this thoughtful presentation. 
You turn around in his arms, lips spreading into a wide smile, your arms slipping around his waist as his do the same. 
“You did all this? Is this where you were all day?” you ask, remembering his absence from your side this morning when you woke. 
The druid nods. “When I found this place the idea immediately came to mind and I…I wanted to surprise you.” 
Warmth blooms in your chest at his words, his thoughtfulness nearly knocking you off your feet. 
You love this man. 
“Well,” you finally say, leaning back to look up at him. “Consider me surprised. But…” you trail off, brows furrowing in question. “Is there an occasion for all this?” 
Halsin pauses then, seemingly considering his words. You wait patiently as he does so, relishing in his embrace, his thumbs brushing over your hips slowly. 
“I will not lie and say I have no goals in mind for this night but…” He pauses, eyes trailing over your face, hands tightening on your hips. “I just want to show you my love. In all the ways nature intended. If you will have me.” 
Your heart stutters in your chest at his words, picking up on their meaning as all the warmth in your chest shifts down to pool in your belly instead. 
You smile up at him again before leaning in to hug him, cheek pressed against his chest as he returns the affection. 
“I’d love nothing more.” 
Halsin leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling away quicker than you like, eyes shining with happiness as he leads you towards the furs. 
“Let us eat first, while the sun still graces us with her presence. I gathered some of your favorites.” 
The fur is soft beneath your feet as you remove your boots and move to settle onto the large makeshift blanket, Halsin right behind you. Idle talk fills the air as he begins pulling items from the bag, and you can’t stop the way your mouth waters at the presentation before you. 
Various meats and cheeses, fresh fruit, wine, and even freshly baked items. Blueberry tarts. Sweet buns. This has obviously been in the works for a good while for him to find time to locate these items - a realization that makes your heart swell with adoration. 
Quickly, before Halsin has finished unpacking, you lean in and press a chaste kiss to his lips, cheeks warm. 
“Thank you. For all of this, for everything.” 
Pausing his work, Halsin smiles, leaning over on one hand before reaching up to cup the back of your neck with the other. He brings his lips back to yours, and this kiss lasts a little longer before he pulls away to gaze at you. 
“You deserve all nature has to provide, my heart. I’m simply showing you its bounty,” he tells you, leaning back to pick up one of the blueberry pastries. 
He tears off a small piece before holding it out to you, eyes twinkling. 
You raise a brow, unable to stop the smile that tugs at your lips. “Feeding me by hand now, too?” you ask, scooting forward to close in on the treat. “Careful, you might just spoil me.” 
You take the offered bite between your teeth, lips brushing the tips of his fingers before he pulls back. The pastry practically melts on your tongue, the crust buttery and flaky - a direct contrast to the tart sweetness of the blueberry mixture. 
You can’t stop the moan of appreciation that comes from you as you savor the treat, already wanting more. 
Halsin smiles, tearing off another bite and offering to you again. “I would give you the moon and stars in the sky if it is what you wished,” he says, eyes crinkling happily when you take the offering again.
You let out a contented hum, scooting until you’re finally side by side with your lover, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw. 
“As nice as that sounds…I’m perfectly content with blueberry tarts and sweet buns.” You reach up to toy with one of the braid in his hair. “And you, of course.” 
Halsin laughs at your addition, the sound loud and joyous as it echoes through the trees. “I am honored to be listed among the sweetest of treats. Although, I must disappoint you and say that honey might always be my first love.” 
You scoff, feigning hurt as you lean away from him, a hand over your heart. “I’m wounded. I thought what we had was special.” 
Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into his lap effortlessly as he attacks your neck and shoulders with kisses, making giggles erupt from your lips. 
“You know I only jest,” he tells you as he finally pulls away, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair away from your face. “You are the only thing my heart desires. The moon to my night sky and the soil to my earth. Nothing could ever compare.” 
Tears burn at the back of your eyes, and you have to blink to keep them back, his words making your heart so full you feel it might burst. 
Cupping his face gently, you take a moment to let your eyes roam, taking in everything about the man beneath you. His scars that some might be frightened by, but you think makes him more handsome. The curving crimson tattoo that adorns his skin. His strong brow that complements his soft hazel eyes. And his lips…lips that smile down at you so often you sometimes worry they might get stuck that way. The smile that makes crow's feet appear at his eyes and show years of laughter he’s shared. 
You shake your head, pressing a kiss to each cheek before finally meeting his lips, holding him to you until the need for air arises. 
“I love you, too,” you whisper, meaning every word. 
————
The evening continues much like this. Eating and drinking and sharing kisses between, until you’re too full to continue. By then, night has fallen and has you both on your backs next to one another, eyes turned towards the stars as you each point out constellations and the stories behind them. 
Halsin shows you the one representing Silvanus and goes on to tell you about his god and the stories behind his origin. You show him a constellation of the goddess your parents worshiped, recalling fond memories of your childhood. 
A gasp falls from your lips in the middle of the story, eyes widening as you point up to the sky. 
“Halsin, look, a shooting star!” 
The little white light streaks across the sky, and you reach over to grab his hand in yours. “Close your eyes and make a wish!” you demand, eyes scrunching closed childishly. 
You open your eyes once more only to see dozens of other stars following the first. Flashes of light igniting the sky before fading away. 
You’ve never seen anything like it. 
“Wow, it’s…beautiful,” you whisper. 
You hear Halsin him in agreement. “It is…Nature has once again outdone itself.” 
You turn to look at him, only to see his eyes aren’t on the sky at all. 
They’re on you.  
“You’re not even looking,” you chastise quietly. 
Halsin smiles. “I’m looking at something more beautiful than even the stars.” 
Heat rushes to your cheeks once more. “Halsin…”
Before your protest can continue, Halsin is moving. He rolls deftly towards you, hand never leaving yours until he pins it beneath his own beside your head, hovering over you. Your heart leaps in your chest, legs moving instinctively to cradle his hips as he settles above you. 
His hair falls over his shoulders, the small braids swaying slightly in the soft breeze that whispers through the forest. His hand squeezes your own before his other comes up to cradle your face, thumb brushing over your cheek. 
“I do not speak words without them being truthful - false niceties are an affront to those we care about, and I do not say these things insincerely,” he tells you, voice unusually quiet. “My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now. Allow me to show you the pleasures of the heart, my love.”
Excitement stirs in your chest before settling lower, warming your belly and making arousal thrum through your veins. You nod, reaching up to card your fingers through soft honey colored hair, before settling at the back of his neck. 
He responds swiftly to your silent approval, his lips coming down to capture yours in a kiss so unlike the others you’ve shared tonight. They were soft and gentle and chaste, but this…
This is all consuming. 
It’s heated, but not rushed. Firm, but not uncaring. His lips move against yours as if he’s pouring all his devotion into you, tongue teasing your lips until you grant him entrance. 
Sighs and groans leave you both, swallowed by the other or lost to the night air as hands and lips start to roam. 
Halsin shifts above you, moving to straddle your hips as his lips travel from yours to leave suckling kisses at your jaw, his hands moving to settle on your waist. 
Your own hands fumble, not sure where to go when they want to touch him everywhere. They flit from his hips to his waist down to his thighs before running back up to tug at the hem of his shirt, fingers twitching as they itch to slip beneath the fabric. 
Gods… you’ve never done this before. Is it too forward? Should you wait? Will he want to undress you first? What if-
Halsin’s soft chuckle rips you from your racing thoughts as he presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw, nipping lightly. 
“You are free to touch, my love,” he says, as if reading your unsure thoughts. “I know I plan to. So, I believe it’s only fair of you to do the same.” 
Heat rushes to your cheeks at his words, his promise to touch you as you want to touch him. But his encouragement works, and before you let your insecurity take over once more, you slide your hands under his shirt. 
You sigh as your hands meet his skin, instantly relishing in the heat radiating from him. The fabric rides up around your wrists as you reach higher, fingers tracing each and every muscle and divot in his skin. You think you can faintly feel scars marring his flesh, some large, some small as they stretch across his skin. 
You aren’t left to wonder for long though, as Halsin pulls himself from you only long enough to tug his shirt over his head and toss it to the side before leaning forward once more, covering you with his body. 
You almost let out a whine, wanting more than just a second to take him in, but the thought is quickly forgotten as his lips return to you once more, this time relentless against the sensitive skin of your neck. 
His teeth gently nip at you before his tongue comes behind to soothe the mark he’s no doubt left behind. 
Your hands trail up from where they rest at his sides, coming to run over his chest, the dark hair tickling your palms until they eventually flit upwards to rest against his shoulders. 
Expert fingers tug at the laces of your top, and your eyes fall to meet those of the man above you. He’s pulled away from you now, eyes searching your face as he continues to toy with the front of your shirt. 
Your chest is heaving, and it’s only in this moment of silence do you realize the heat running through you. The way your toes curl into the furs beneath you, the tingling and pleasure settling low in your belly. 
Gods, you want him.  
You arch up into his hands ever so slightly. “You don’t have to ask,” you say, tone impatient, a surprise even to you. 
Halsin’s brows furrow, lips turning down ever so slightly. “Of course I do.” He leans down to place a kiss to the corner of your lips before trailing a path down your jaw to just below your ear. “Your comfort is my utmost priority, so I will ask each and every time.” 
His over abundance of care makes warmth bloom in your chest, disposing what little nerves may have been lingering in the back of your mind. 
You smile, turning your head to capture his lips with yours as you give his shoulders a reassuring squeeze. 
“I can assure you,” you tell him, pulling away from the kiss just enough to raise your arms above your head. “I’ll be most comfortable when we’re both rid of all our clothing.” 
Halsin smiles, eyes twinkling with amusement. “As nature intended.” 
You can’t stop the giggle that slips past your lips as Halsin lifts your shirt over your arms. You’re used to his druidic nature quips, but they still always manage to bring a smile to your face. 
Halsin is quick to oblige your request, and soon you’re both bare against the furs, and that tiny tinge of uncertainty is back as Halsin’s eyes roam over you. 
Without thought, your arms come up to cover yourself, but Halsin is quick to stop you in your tracks. He takes your hands in his, threading your fingers together before pressing them into the ground beside your head. 
“Do not hide from me,” he whispers, leaning down to brush gentle lips over your collarbone and down lower. “You are beautiful - more radiant than the sun on a clear day and more ethereal than the moon at its fullest.” 
He nips at the swell of your breast before kissing the soft skin and traveling lower, pausing between the valley of your chest to shower kisses over the softness of your stomach. 
Blood rushes in your ears, heart pounding, arousal shooting to your core as you realize the path he’s taking and his most likely destination. 
“Halsin…” His name leaves your lips in a gasp as his hands leave yours to follow the path his lips took just moments before.
You can feel the roughness of his palms in stark contrast to the softness of your skin, arching up into them as he reaches your breasts, kneading them in his hands. 
His thumbs brush over stiffened peaks, teasing as his lips move lower, nose nudging at your navel. 
“I wish to know all of you, my heart - body and soul.” His lips move against the delicate skin of your hip, breath fanning over your most intimate parts. “I have longed to taste you, to have you come undone on my tongue before I show you the other pleasures nature has to offer.” 
You’ve honestly never really thought about this before, your mind always jumping to the ‘ main act,’ if you will. But now, with Halsin’s hands on you and his lips so close to where you ache for him to touch you…You find you’ve never wanted anything more. 
Your hips lift from the furs involuntarily, and Halsin’s hands are quick to slide down to your hips, holding you in place gently as a chuckle leaves his lips, ghosting against the crux of you once more. 
“Yes - please …” The words fall from your lips in hushed whispers, the breath having long since left you. 
You don’t even know what you’re begging for. It’s not like Halsin was asking, but he must find your quiet words pleasing as another amused rumble comes from him. 
He’s down lower now, his lips brushing teasingly against the inside of your knee, placing feather light kisses up along your inner thigh. 
“I’ll have you begging for much more than this before the night is done.”
A shudder runs through you at his words and before a retort can even come to your mind, his mouth is on you, stealing all thoughts away. A gasp falls from your lips as your fingers move to tangle in his hair, wanting to keep him close and push him away all at once. 
His tongue parts you eagerly, his nose bumping against your clit as he teases your entrance. 
Arousal is hot and piercing in your core, making you even wetter than you were before, Halsin’s ministrations spurring your pleasure higher and higher with each expert stroke. 
The sensation is so… foreign. Something you’ve never experienced before that has you craving more and wanting to run away at the same time. Inexperience and utter pleasure push and shove at one another, until the latter wins out as Halsin presses one finger against you, sinking in ever so slowly. 
His tongue, his lips, and now his finger sinking into you makes that feeling in your belly crescendo, a feeling new to you. You don’t know whether to urge him on or tell him to stop. 
As if sensing your dilemma, Halsin adds another finger, making your jaw drop open as he crooks them inside of you, brushing up against a spot that makes you see stars. 
He pulls away from you then, pressing a hurried kiss to your hip, nipping at the skin there. 
“ Let go for me, little one. ” 
His words are the last thing you need to catapult you over the ledge you’ve never jumped before. The tension in your core bursts, the taut pressure snapping in two as your body arches into Halsin’s. 
Utter euphoria rushes through your veins in a burning tidal wave, toes curling, fingers tingling from where they still clutch at his hair. You can’t even find it in you to think about loosening your grip, the pleasure coursing through you like an electric current and locking you in place. 
You have nearly no idea how much time has passed before your mind comes back to you, your chest heaving with tired pants as Halsin kisses his way back up to you, nuzzling your jaw before peppering kisses to your cheeks as his hands rub soothing patterns against your sides.
“That was…” You trail off, both lost for words and still trying to get your breath back. “A lot.” 
Halsin chuckles again, making you warm inside for a completely different reason as he presses his lips to yours in a slow kiss before pulling away to press another one to your temple, lips tugged up in a grin. 
“Well…I did promise to overwhelm you,” he says, calling back to your conversation all those weeks ago. 
You huff out a short laugh of your own, arms coming up to wrap under his own so your hands rest against the back of his shoulders. 
“Consider me overwhelmed.” 
That smile still on his lips, Halsin comes back down to nuzzle at your jaw again, hands trailing down your sides to rest on your thighs, guiding them to cradle his hips as he press his body more fully into yours. 
A short gasp slips past your lips as you feel him against you, hot and heavy against your inner thigh. You can’t help the way your eyes glance downwards, widening at the sight of him. You hadn’t really thought to look earlier, everything else holding your attention instead, but…
Good gods above- 
“ Will it fit?” The question is out of your mouth before you can think better of it, the hot swell of embarrassment creeping up your neck as Halsin laughs again, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet forest. 
He pulls you closer to him, your chest brushing his own as he captures your lips again. One hand reaching up to cradle your jaw, thumb rubbing soothingly against the skin there. 
When he pulls away, it’s just far enough for his forehead to rest gently against yours. 
“I will go slow,” he assures you, pressing soft kisses to our brow, “but you must be my guide, tell me what pleasures you most or what causes you discomfort and I will adjust accordingly.” 
Once again, despite this intimate moment, Halsin is ever the considerate, giving partner. Never putting his pleasure above yours. 
You smile up at him, fingers pressing into his back slightly. 
“Thank you.” You lean up, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “But I…I want you to enjoy this, too. It doesn’t have to be about just me.” 
Halsin eyes twinkle in delight, one corner of his lips tugging upwards in that rare but beguiling smirk. 
“Trust me, my heart - I am enjoying myself more than you can imagine. You are giving me a most precious gift, your trust - it is more than this old druid could ever ask for.” 
His words once again, strike deep, your arousal and happiness all swirling into one big ball in your chest about to burst. You tug him down on top of you, relishing in the closeness of his chest against yours, his hands on your skin, his lips on your cheek. 
“You have it,” you tell him, voice wavering with emotion. “I love you, Halsin. Please… I trust you.”  
“I love you too, my heart.”
Halsin’s words are but a whisper against your lips before he claims them again, mounding you to him as he positions himself to press at your entrance. 
He enters slowly, never breaking your kiss, swallowing the sharp gasp that leaves you. Your fingers dig into his back at the intrusion - while not painful, it is foreign; a pleasurable pressure within you that expands more and more the deeper into you he goes. 
Your earlier orgasm makes his movements easier, but he still pauses when he meets resistance, a sharp intake of breath from you all he needs as an indicator. 
He breaks his lips from yours, reaching up to brush a stray hair from your forehead now dewy with perspiration. His brow furrows in concern. 
“Are you alright?”
You nod. It’s the truth - you are fine, there is no pain, but, gods, you already feel full and you haven’t even taken him fully yet. 
“I-I’m fine, just-“ Another breathless gasp as he twitches inside you. “Go s - slow.”
Halsin obliges, working into you in slow, measured thrusts, pulling back before sinking a little deeper each time. Each movement, no matter how small - how tempered - sends a jolt of pleasure through you, igniting the flame that never really seemed to go out. 
It’s like everything is amplified by a thousand with him moving against you. The way the hair on his chest brushes against your skin sends tingles down your spine. The blood rushing in your ears, the soft pants he exhales - breath warm against your cheek from where his forehead nuzzles your own. His hand feels like a branding iron against your skin where he pulls your leg up over his hip, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks behind. 
You can tell he’s holding back, using every ounce of control he has to please you - to not rush this. 
Your heart aches in the best way when he finally - finally - bottoms out, his hips flush against your own. His head falls to your shoulder, and the groan he lets out is sinful enough to match the moan that falls from your own lips - his name a whispered prayer in the night air. 
You’re so full it feels like you can’t take a full breath without feeling him everywhere. Inside you, on top of you, his lips against your skin and his hands holding you in just the right way. You feel…made for him. Him made for you. Like pieces of a puzzle finally joining together. 
You relish in the feeling of him like this. But more than that, you desperately want him to move, your hips twitching against his in silent request. Only, when he doesn’t respond do you speak up.
“I think…I’m alright, you can move,” you tell him, voice breathy. 
You feel him nod against your shoulder, hair tickling the sensitive skin there as he speaks. “Yes I, ah - just need a moment.”
One of your hands runs down his back and then up again, your legs squeezing his hips gently. “Are you okay?”
Halsin laughs quietly, breath hot against your skin before pulling away, lifting one hand up to cradle your cheek as he gazes down at you in utter adoration.
“Yes, just…admiring all of nature's creations, and…considering how very lucky I am.”
You smile up at him, eyes starting to feel watery at the sincerity behind his words. “Halsin, I…I’m lucky too.”
His lips turn upwards before he leans down to place a slow, deliberate kiss to your lips before pulling away. “I care about you a great deal. More than…more than I can express. So, I will do my best to show you.”
His meaningful words end just as he decides to move, pulling out before sliding back in with one smooth thrust. The movement makes stars erupt before you as your eyes clamp shut, pleasure singing through you. 
Halsin picks up his speed when you offer no complaint, skin slapping against skin as he finds a steady rhythm. His lips press haphazardly against you, moving from your neck to your collarbone, down and then back up again, as if he wants to worship all of you but doesn’t know where to start. 
One of his hands plants itself in the furs beside your head, fingers digging into the soft fabric for purchase while the other falls down to grip your leg again, tugging it ever higher on his hip, allowing him to press deeper into you.
A high-pitched cry escapes your lips at the movement, the new angle letting him hit something devastating inside of you with each thrust. 
Your fingers dig into his back, nails no doubt leaving behind marks as they score down his shoulder blades, desperate to pull him closer. He drops down to bear his weight on his forearm, pushing himself closer to you, pressing you into the furs beneath you as if he too can’t get close enough.
“ Oak Father preserve me,” Halsin practically growls, burying his face into your shoulder, blunt teeth digging into your skin before he speaks again. “You are so… perfect. Like you were created by the gods themselves just for me,” he groans as his hips stutter momentarily, grinding up into you. “I love you, my heart, more than words or any actions can describe.”
His words, the way he feels inside you, the way his lips smooth the dull ache his teeth left behind, it’s all too much. It’s overwhelming in the best way as that coil in your belly pulls taut again, ready to snap at a moment's notice. 
Your chest rises and falls with rapid breaths, one of your hands coming up to cradle the back of his head, holding him to you as your legs finally move to wrap around his waist, heels digging into him, urging him on - silently begging him to bring you both to release. 
“I love you too.” The words come out hoarse and broken.“ Fuck, Halsin I - I’m close, please… ”
He responds to your plea, his hips stuttering as he nears his own end. He turns his head ever so slightly, lips brushing your ear before placing a gentle kiss just below, whispering sweet nothings against your skin. 
He reaches his end just before you do, and it brings about your own euphoria. The cord snaps just as his hips do against yours, warmth flooding you inside and out as you topple over the edge. His name falls from your lips over and over, a provocative incantation for only the night and the man above you to hear. 
He works you through your release, only stilling when you’re both spent, chests rising and falling against one another, skin damp with sweat as you pull each other closer still. 
Halsin tucks both arms beneath you as you slowly come down, pulling you tight against him as he rolls you both onto your sides. 
Neither of you speak for several moments, instead choosing to bask in the afterglow, relishing the cool night air against your heated skin. Only when Halsin’s hand starts to trail random patterns against your back does he finally speak. 
“Are you alright?” he asks, voice gentle with just a touch of concern lacing his words. 
You look up at him, brows furrowed. “Did I do something to suggest otherwise?” 
Halsin shakes his head, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair back from your face. “No, but I…I know I am…more than most. I just wanted to ensure there were no…lingering discomforts.”
You shake your head. Other than the dull ache between your thighs, which you do not regret…there’s not a scratch on you. And you couldn’t feel better.
“No discomforts here,” you tell him, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “None that I’m going to complain about, anyway.”
Halsin lets out an amused huff before rolling once more so you rest on top of him, ignoring your gasp of surprise. “Good,” he says, reaching up to run warm hands down your sides before resting on your hips, eyes meeting yours once more. “I truly meant it when I said this was a gift. You are a gift, the greatest treasure Silvanus could have ever bestowed upon me.”
Halsin reaches up to take one of your hands that rests on his chest, bringing it up to press a chaste kiss to your knuckles. “You honor me by choosing to be by my side.”
Heat creeps up your neck, and words fail you at first. So, you lean forward to hide your face against him, nose brushing just below his ear as you nuzzle into the space between his head and shoulder. 
“I’ve never…” You trail off before finally finding your words. “I’ve never trusted someone enough to…take this step with,” you admit, arms moving to wrap around him, hands tucking between his back and the furs beneath him. “Thank you for loving me enough to show me what it's like.”
Halsin’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you to him as his lips brush your temple. 
“The pleasure was all mine, my heart. I love you more than the moon loves the stars and the sun loves the earth.” 
You smile against him, eyes suddenly feeling heavy, sleep tugging at the edges of your consciousness. “That’s a lot of love…might take a while to get it all out.”
You feel his chest rumble with laughter. “That just means more nights with you in my arms.”
You hum in agreement, finally letting your eyes fall shut. And, as Halsin’s arms hold you tight, you both fall asleep under the stars, nature surrounding you.
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