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bottlesofrouge · 2 days

Text

on one condition.

harry styles x original character

part six.

word count: 10.3K

warnings: homophobia!

7 AUGUST 2018

harry isn’t sure if it’s the overwhelmingly pungent smell of burnt coffee or the fact that he was about to see oliver for the first time in a little over three years that had him feeling like he could throw up at any given second. his cheeks felt clammy to the touch, and he even had to put a jacket on in the august heat because he visibly sweat through his t-shirt within the first five minutes of sitting at the small booth. (the queasiness was definitely oliver related, but the sour smell flowing throughout the small cafe didn’t help.)

to be honest, harry wasn’t really expecting oliver to reply to his message. firstly, because it was sent via facebook messenger and no one under forty uses that (the only exception being to score a killer deal found on marketplace), and secondly, because the message came from harry. when the message sat on delivered for thirty six hours, he felt relieved. it meant he wasn’t going to have to face his wrong doings, and it also meant that he didn’t have to do something he wasn’t sure he was ready to do to begin with.

besides that one moment in the early days of jane’s birthday vacation, harry hadn’t thought about oliver once. instead, his thoughts were filled to the brim with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, sugary sweet lips and warm, freshly tanned skin. he couldn’t help it. lynn was just so… perfect. harry simply couldn’t get enough of her. all the shy smiles sent his way and soft kisses pressed into his skin had him thinking maybe he didn’t miss oliver after all, and the ache in his chest was nothing but a bit of guilt because he didn’t anymore.

harry would never know because the small, heavy feeling was replaced with what was like the weight of a lynn-sized brick as soon as he heard her say that she was still hung up on silas. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t expect it. the look on her face right after everything happened just said it all. the way her smile fell from her lips mid-giggle when she looked at him… it was like she realized just exactly who he was once the post-orgasm fog had faded.

the memory of it makes his chest ache. harry didn’t mean to let it go that far. he would’ve been fine with a few short kisses and an early night, but as soon as she started grinding against him, the ache to please her grew into a pit so big, it should’ve swallowed him whole from the inside out. she could’ve given him her mouth and her throat just like she had offered and nothing would’ve been as satisfying as the feeling of her clenching around his fingers. the heavy whimpers that graced his ears and the hot exhales from her staggered breaths that fanned over the skin of his neck. the way she fell into him and basked in the warmth of his soft praises. she was so perfect, and he was nothing but an idiot to think he deserved her like that. to see her in such beauty. lynn was gorgeous and kind and smart and funny and… and he was just harry.

so, after a heavy cry in the shower and a fake confession, harry texted oliver that night, and thirty seven hours later, he responded. the other boy didn’t say much, only a time and an address. harry was nearly certain that he wasn’t going to show, but when the little bell above the door rings at exactly 10am, he’s proven wrong.

“hi,” harry rushes out as soon as oliver is at his table. “thank you for coming. i got you a lavender latte.”

“i don’t drink milk,” is the first thing oliver says. no hello. no how’ve you been?, and deep down, harry knew he didn’t deserve the fake pleasantries.

“you never have. it’s oat,” and then he’s pushing his untouched latte towards the other boy. “if you don’t like that anymore, mine’s almond. take it. take both, really. i can get you something else, too, if you’d-”

“harry,” oliver’s voice is sharp. a warning almost. “what are you doing here?”

"i wanted to apologize for what i did when we were in high school."

"that's it? that could've been done over text.”

"you deserve so much more than a text message, oliver," and it was true, he did. even if harry would rather be doing anything else, he owed the boy this much.

oliver doesn’t say anything, but he’s staring at harry with a coldness in his eyes that has him on the brink of tears. maybe this is how oliver felt every time he had to pass harry in the hallways. the thought makes a lump form in his throat.

"i'm not here to clear my conscience or get on my hands and knees and beg you to take me back because what i did was horrible, but-"

"did you ever love me or was it just some kind of fucked up joke? something to laugh at in the locker room, i’m sure."

"i loved you so much, oliver. so so so much." if it were any other situation the thickness of his voice might’ve had him cringing in embarrassment. he knew that the way he treated the other was criminal, but harry never thought oliver would assume that every single part of their shared relationship was nothing but a joke for his teammates. "my dad was horrible and i know that your parents would've done anything for me, but-"

"but i wasn't worth it?"

"you were, but i was a stupid kid who wanted his dad’s approval,” harry admits. “i was so angry because why did i have to be born into that kind of family? it was unfair and i was jealous of you and your relationship with your parents and i just... i took it out on you. i'm sorry, oliver."

"okay," oliver dramatically fake yawns like he just finished watching the most boring performance ever put on. "anything else? no begging for my forgiveness? maybe you want to call me a f-”

“no!” harry’s hands slam down on the table, stopping the boy from finishing his sentence.

oliver only smiles. “not even for old times’ sake, ma jolie?”

harry’s stomach twists at the old nickname. tears he’s been trying so hard to keep in finally spilling over. oliver started using the phrase when they were in their shared French I class. it was before they even started dating, but the two had started spending more alone time together. oliver would wake him up with the words tickling his skin, and harry let it go on for over a month before he finally caved and asked their teacher what it meant.

my pretty.

"i already figured that we would end the way we did when your dad saw us," oliver sighs. "i just hoped you were better than that."

"god, i was so horrible, ollie. i just…,” harry’s voice falls. his fingers are gripping the edge of the table so hard, his knuckles turning white. “you know i was religious. i couldn't understand why the god i worshiped made me into something that he hated,” big, thick tears are falling from his eyes, and his nose is so snotty, he can feel it running down to his lip. the sight must’ve been crazy to the other patrons in the shop, but harry didn’t care. he’d do it a hundred times over if it meant there was a chance he could prove himself to the boy. harry really did love him.

“i would come home from school and pray on my hands and knees begging him to fix me. i wanted to be worthy of my family's love so badly. if i had met you ten years from then, knowing what i do now, you would've been more than enough. i'm sorry i didn't realize that. i wish i was better to you, oliver. but nothing i do or say now will ever make what i did go away and i'm sorry.”

"i know,” the tone of his voice matches the way his features soften. the cold stare long gone. “i forgive you.”

"you don't-"

"i'll never know what it's like to grow up like that. my roommate is going through the same thing, and i should've never expected you to face that at 17. you were just a kid."

harry doesn't know why he feels the urge to cry again, but his eyes are watering and his throat is burning. he's blinking so fast, but the tears are still pooling, and as soon as oliver sees he's moving from his side of the booth and sliding in next to harry.

he can feel the boy’s lips against his hair and the side of his head, and harry doesn't really know who initiates it, but there’s soft kisses on his lips, and it feels so nostalgic. almost like coming home.

harry presses his face into the boy's neck when they pull apart. his eyes are closed, and he is just so focused on taking oliver in. he smells different. kind of. the cheap body sprays he had purchased as a teenager were no longer there, but harry could still pick out the gain original scent stuck to his shirt.

"i'm so sorry," his words are muffled by the boy’s skin, but the way ollie runs his thumb between his shoulder blades lets him know they’re heard. god, even his touch felt the same.

"i'm glad you texted," oliver says after a moment. “and i’m sorry for being a prick earlier.”

"don’t be," harry pulls away to offer him a smile. “i deserved it.”

"i still think about you, harry,” his knuckles reach to wipe the remnants of tears stuck under harry’s eyes. "i know how everything ended, but like i said, we were kids, and you loved me in a way i don't think i'll ever experience again."

"oliver..."

"im not saying anything will come out of it, but maybe you'd like to get to know each other again?"

"yeah," harry only smiles, trying his best not to explode. "i would like that very much, oliver."

✮✮✮

lynn swallows hard at the sight of the woman sitting in front of her. she looks nearly the same as the last time she saw her years ago, the only difference being the huge, shiny rock on her ring finger and her rather large baby bump. seeing her like this feels weird, lynn thinks.

of course, she’s happy for the woman, but lynn can’t help but feel a little bit of burning jealousy make its way up from her stomach all the way to her throat. she didn’t want to be married, and she definitely didn’t want to be pregnant, but seeing her like this… it reminded lynn of how the world continues to turn for everyone else while she still feels glued to the same spot. it was like she was in a game of monopoly, only the child who once claimed her as their piece became uninterested halfway through, and now she was forced to watch everyone pass GO a hundred times over while she sat in the tattered, old box, collecting dust.

“lynn,” dr. agard is the first to speak. “it’s nice to see you. it’s been a while.”

“three years, i think,” her voice feels so small as she leans into the plush pillows on the couch. “and evelyn’s okay now. if you want to go back to using that.”

she watches as her doctor writes a quick note, “i see. any reason for the change?”

lynn shakes her head, “not particularly. i just heard it again for the first time recently, and i don’t know. it didn’t make me cry until i threw up.”

“that’s good,” the woman smiles at her warmly, and it’s too much. lynn has to look away.

when she looks at dr. agard, she sees herself. the both of them share the same shade of blonde hair and blue eyes. the only difference being the fact that the doctor either wore hers straight or pulled away from her face in a way that never had a hair out of place. if she were to take her contacts out, lynn thinks that it would be just like looking in a mirror.

she wonders if this is what her life could have been like if anything were to have turned out just a little bit differently. maybe if peter didn’t have an affair with her au pair, she would’ve known what it was like to have two loving parents. perhaps then she wouldn’t have practically cheated on luke with her stupid neighbor. she’d have a college degree and a ring on her finger and a successful job and maybe a kid or two or three or—

when she blinks, dr. agard is looking at her expectantly.

“i’m sorry,” lynn says. “what did you say?”

“i asked why you decided to come back.”

"i, um," she clears her throat. "well, i met someone."

"that's exciting," the woman smiles at her as her pen glides across the paper. "how long have you two been together?"

"we're not," lynn feels herself slipping away again. her fingers pick the loose thread hanging from the bottom seam on her shirt, and she moves all of her attention down there. she couldn’t look dr. agard in the eye and tell her what she’s done. "we just... i don't know. i like being around him."

"why's that?"

"he's easy to talk to, and i feel like myself when we're together," her teeth chew at the inside of her cheek. "the version of myself that i was before everything."

"lynn," her notepad comes down and she's looking at her with worried eyes. "we've talked about this. you can't put your healing in the hands of other people."

"i know, i know. it's not like that," but wasn't it? she couldn’t sleep through the night unless harry was pressed against her. she’s been home for a week, and she hasn’t been able to close her eyes without a heavy dose of melatonin (nearly twenty milligrams if anyone cares.) "i want to do all the work because if there's ever a time that he feels the same, i want to give him the best version of myself. i don’t ever want him to feel like i rely on him."

"what do you think is going to happen if that time never comes?"

lynn would spend night after night with her face pressed into the pillow he had used a singular time until his scent went away. she’d probably wear her pretty blue dress like it was a second skin while she laid in bed trying to remember every curve of his body and every line in his skin.

she’d get on her knees, and pray to a god that she doesn’t even believe in. she’d ask him to fix it. to make harry change his mind about her. and when that wouldn’t happen, she’d probably lay on the floor with nothing but her fresh tears warming her body. she’d stay like that for hours. days maybe. and then she’d finally get up, wipe her face, and move on.

“i actually came today to see if you could maybe give me a referral for the place you sent me to last time,” lynn admits. “you know, the wellness center in connecticut.”

“i’d prefer to talk to you a bit first,” she says. “i could give you one maybe in a few sessions, but right now-”

“please,” lynn begs. “please. i feel just like i did last time.”

“how did you feel last time?”

“crazy,” it’s meant to come out as a joke, but her the tone of her voice has a bit of a serious edge to it. “i feel normal, i guess, but at the same time it’s like i’m not in control. i don’t know if it’s because i haven’t been sleeping or if it’s because of him, but i feel… not right.”

“how long have you had trouble sleeping?”

“thirteen. maybe fourteen.”

“two weeks isn’t that-”

“months,” lynn clarifies. “over a year.”

"oh, god. evelyn,” dr. agard can’t even hide the shock in her voice. her mouth is open, and the pen she’s holding makes a thump when it falls against the notebook. “why didn’t you come sooner?”

"because i felt like i could handle it," lynn smiles sheepishly. “and i didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until i met him. please, dr. agard. i wouldn’t be asking if i didn’t feel like i needed it. it helped so much last time.”

"at least you're aware," she says. "i’ll give it to you on one condition. i want you back here weekly."

“deal,” and lynn can’t help the grin that takes over face when dr. agard hands her the signed referral form.

19 AUGUST 2018

lynn parks her car a long four block walk away from the bakery. she usually starts her sunday shifts in the morning, sometimes even as early as seven. there was always an abundance of parking spaces and she loved beating the summer time farmer’s market crowd.

however, this morning was spent in dr. agard’s manhattan office. after lynn insisted on moving her weekly sessions down there in fear of anyone seeing her, the woman asked to see her for an emergency appointment. apparently, she wanted to figure out just what lynn meant by that.

so, she didn’t want harry to see her walking into the building in the middle of their little downtown area. sue her. lynn didn’t really want anyone to see her if she were being honest. there was a little embarrassment that came with the fact that she had to go away again, and she preferred to keep it to herself. and silas. obviously. she told him everything.

the weeklong stay at connecticut’s finest wellness center was exactly what lynn needed. when she was there, her one on one therapist (her name was penny and she was lynn’s favorite) taught her some helpful techniques when it came to dealing with her crippling insomnia. none of which involved a boy with soft, brown curls and warm lips being in her bed.

penny also reassured lynn that her borderline infatuation with harry was normal. he was the first new person she felt safe around in a while, and she had to learn to separate that from her actual feelings towards him. she had also said that lynn was projecting an idea of the man she wanted him to be onto him. sure, he was kind and sweet, but that was only when he wanted to be. who’s to say that things wouldn’t go right back to how they started between them as soon as they spent some time together outside of sunny florida?

so, she didn’t love him like she had told penny on her first day there, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a crush on him. of course she did. he’s harry.

lynn stops at her favorite coffee shop that sat a block away from her bakery. when she was understaffed and worked the night shift alone, she would trade the baristas freshly baked cupcakes for large soy milk lattes. honestly, she wasn’t really sure if the coffee was even that good. the staff was lovely and that’s all that mattered.

“lynn,” the teenage girl behind the counter named nora greets her with a smile. “i was starting to think you moved away. soy latte?”

“always, and i was just out of town for a bit,” lynn laughs, digging through her purse for her wallet. “come by after your shift and i’ll send you home with all of my fails.”

nora cheers, tapping away on the computer screen. “just two dollars today. gave you my discount.”

“i’ve got it,” lynn turns around to see harry standing behind her. he’s got two bags of coffee beans in his hand and he steps forward to set them on the counter. “these, too. thank you, nora.”

“harry,” lynn can’t stop the smile from growing on her lips. “hi.”

“hi, honey,” he gives her the close-lipped, soft smile that she absolutely adores. the one where the left side of his mouth curves just a little higher than his right. lynn leans into the warmth crawling up her neck and spreading to her cheeks, just happy that someone has this effect on her again. (she learned to appreciate the little things in connecticut, too.)

“you two know each other?” nora’s voice is quieter, and lynn thinks it’s faintly laced with shock, too.

“s’my girlfriend, nora,” harry mumbles as the machine beeps, signaling for him to take out his card. when he looks up, nora’s looking back at him with her jaw nearly on the ground. “y’alright, sweetheart? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“yeah, um,” lynn laughs at how flustered she gets. “when we’re bored, some of us like to ship our regulars, and-”

“ship?” harry interrupts.

“like pairing people together,” lynn lets herself rest against his shoulder. she missed him, and harry obviously wanted nora to think they were together. “romantically.”

“right. i knew that.”

“a lot of us on the morning shift thought that you two would be cute together,” nora’s face turns red at her own confession. “the girls are going to die when i tell them.”

“we are cute together, aren’t we?” his lips are lost in her hair, and lynn tries her best to remember that he’s only doing it because he has to. because they’re in this stupid, fake relationship. (penny, dr. agard, and her group therapist had all called it a bad idea.) but really, they didn’t have to pretend right now. not in front of nora. maybe harry was doing it because he simply wanted to.

the two leave the coffee shop once lynn gets her latte, and also after they stage a photo for nora to send to the work group chat. apparently, they had a monetary bet on the whole thing, and what kind of people would harry and lynn be if they didn’t help their favorite barista make an extra bit of cash. so, they shared a kiss right outside of the cafe’s big windows, and harry stuck his head back in to make sure the girl got the perfect shot.

the weather feels absolutely perfect as they walk through the nearly-over farmers market. it’s on the way to the bakery, and lynn always finds herself wandering around whenever she has a good enough excuse. sometimes, when some of the staff asks for extra hours, she lets them set up a tent full of freshly baked loaves of bread. it meant that all she had to do was wake up early and bake them, and then she was free of her work duties and could visit nearly every vendor. so, once the ingredients were paid for, lynn split the rest of the profits amongst whoever worked. it was only fair.

harry stops to purchase a bouquet of over-priced sunflowers and lynn stupidly lets herself picture them sitting on her kitchen counter in a vase. she’d put them in the crystal one she inherited from her grandmother. usually, she reserved it for flowers that silas sends her from her favorite florist, but an exception could be made for harry.

"i’m happy i ran into you," he admits when they’re just outside of the bakery. "i miss you."

she looks up at him, "yeah?"

"yeah," he confirms. "i know that trip was a lot. figured you needed your space for a little while, but i wanted to see you."

"are you free for a little bit?"

“of course,” his fingers are pinching at the sleeve of her shirt. “i’m always free for you.”

she smiles up at him, unlocking the door to get into the bakery. "come on, then."

it was rare that lynn ever let anyone sit in on her sunday shifts. she loves working alone and the peace that comes with having nothing but her poorly crafted spotify playlists to keep her company. it brings her back to when she’d spend summertime weekends listening to music and baking for her sisters, reminding her of how she even fell in love with baking in the first place.

she leaves harry in her office while she changes into her baking clothes that were kept in a desk drawer. she's got pictures of amelia and jane and silas taped to her computer, and when she stood up with the folded clothes in her hands, she was reminded that she even added a photo of harry. it was one she took on the trip, and she hoped that he didn’t find it weird. they were friends after all.

“i never got to ask,” lynn’s tying the apron around her waist while harry brings out a chair from the office to join her per her own request. “how did things with oliver go?”

she selfishly hopes he comes back with a frown on his face. he’ll say it was awful. the other boy hates him. nothing good was ever going to come out of it. harry would tell her that the coffee beans he bought were just an excuse to see her, and the flowers were meant to grace her counter top. he’d kiss her like he always does, and then maybe he’d even take her out to dinner.

i mean, he had to, right? why else would he be kissing her head and calling her honey in front of nora? would he miss her and want to see her if he had oliver to keep him company?

harry rounds the corner with a grin on his face, and it wasn’t anything like his normal one. it wasn’t even like the ones that lynn had compared to luke’s sunshine smiles. he’s showing all of his perfect teeth, his dimples practically giant craters on his cheeks. harry just radiates this glow, and it’s like lynn can see the happiness seeping from his pores. he practically embodied sunshine.

“we’re seeing each other again,” lynn has to turn around to face her supply shelf when she hears the words leave his mouth. “dating each other, and seeing where things go. you know.”

“that’s so exciting, harry,” she tries her best to sound happy before she lets herself face him again.

“thanks,” he says, his sunshine smile still on his lips. “i think it’s going to be good this time.”

maybe lynn needs to schedule another emergency session with dr. agard. immediately.

harry sits in her chair, silently watching with one of his legs folded underneath him until his phone rings. the sound makes lynn jump, chocolate batter tipping over on to the counter. he apologizes through a laugh, eyes never really leaving her as he fishes through his bag for his phone.

the mess reminds lynn of when the two of them made cupcakes with the leftover ingredients from jane’s birthday cake while silas opted for a shower. she had gotten chocolate icing on her face, and harry so graciously pointed it out before kissing it off. neither of them said anything, but when lynn purposefully smeared the icing across her lips, he kissed that off, too.

lynn recounted that night hundreds of times in the wellness center and on dr. agard’s sofa. it wasn’t the first time they had kissed when they were alone, and it wasn’t the last, but it was the first time that harry kissed her like he meant it. it wasn’t just soft presses of his lips against hers. he licked and sucked, and her favorite part was when he would pull away and she could feel his opened mouth pressed against hers. there’d be a sharp inhale and then he’d kiss her again. it was like he was trying to stop himself, too weak to ever actually do so.

she wonders if the chocolate mess reminds him of that night, too.

“i’m sorry, mom,” harry has his phone pressed against his cheek. “i know…i know. i just lost track of time. i’ll be there soon.”

it’s quiet for a second, and then his soft murmurs are replaced by the sound of john’s voice blaring through the speaker. harry’s eyes widen, and every time he opens his mouth to respond, john talks right over him. lynn can’t make out much, but she can tell he’s angry, pissed, really, over gemma’s birthday cake. the coffee beans and sunflowers make sense now.

"you alright?" lynn asks when pulls the phone away from his face.

"yeah," he clears his throat. "just... fucking up like always." his words are mumbled, and he doesn’t meet her eyes. she hates that he feels this way around her. "i'm sorry, ev. i should really go before they kill me."

"do you think there's room for one more?" she's standing behind a chocolate cake that she had pulled from the display case the second she heard john’s complaining. a white happy birthday gemma written on across the top.

"evy..." his voice falls when he sees it, and lynn’s stomach flips at the nickname. she wishes he’d say it again. "you don't have to-"

"we can say i insisted on making it. opened the bakery and everything just for the cake. i'll apologize for taking so long. it'll be fine."

"you're not taking the fall. you know how my dad can be.”

she shrugs, "i don't mind. i owe it to you, really. after you had to spend every day at my side. i know how much of a chore that was."

she laughs lightly, teeth finding the inside of her cheek. lynn nervously nibbles, knowing she’s just set herself to be incredibly disappointed. she gets sick at the thought of harry dreading spending time with her. he probably woke up every day on that trip just itching to push her away from him. maybe there was a timer set on his phone, counting down the seconds until he could go home and be far away from her and with oliver instead. dropping her off probably felt like such a relief. like he could finally breathe—

"that trip didn't feel like that to me, blondie. not at all.”

"no?" she looks up at him as his words interrupt her thoughts.

"no," his smile's light, and he reaches to give her upper arm a squeeze. "let me help you clean up."

"you sure? i don’t know if we have time."

“always have time for you, remember?” she wonders if he means it. if he’ll always have time for her even when the other boy is sitting at home, waiting for him.

they take lynn’s car to harry’s parents’ house. harry offers to drop off some danishes and tarts to nora and pick up her car from the lot while she changes into her clothes from earlier, and she lets him. she lets him draw on the pastry box, too. lynn expects something corny, like a thanks a latte written in the center. instead there’s a heart, followed by a rather large l.a.+ h.s.

her heart beats just a little faster when she sees it.

the car ride is quiet. harry’s got his phone plugged in, shuffling through a few hozier songs that play softly through her car speakers. he hums along quietly, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, and he sounds almost as pretty as he looks.

it reminds her of the last time they saw each other. he had driven her home from the airport, and lynn spent the entire ride looking for the right moment to tell him just what the night prior meant to her. it never came, and she hadn’t seen him since.

she lets herself think about how different things would be right now if she had. maybe harry would be reaching over the center console for her hand, peppering kisses to her burning cheeks at stop lights, singing along obnoxiously to the songs that played just to annoy her.

and even if that weren’t true, what would have happened if she had kissed him when he called her that stupid nickname instead of running away? would he have let her touch him? she knows she would’ve given him her throat, just like she had offered. lynn would’ve given him all of her. whatever he wanted, whatever he needed, he would’ve had it.

harry slamming on the brakes is what gets lynn out of her head, and she realizes that this is just what penny meant. her feelings for him grew and grew because of scenarios she made up in her mind, and honestly, she’d never know what harry really thought about that night because he was seeing oliver now. she’d be the worst person in the world if she were to ruin that.

“sorry, evelyn,” harry murmurs, and lynn realizes that he’s got his arm stretched across her chest, pressing her back in to her seat. “wasn’t paying attention. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not any worse than my driving on the way to the airport in miami,” lynn says. “you’re fine.”

harry laughs at the mention of the most stressful drive of her entire life, and then it’s quiet and hozier’s voice can be heard again.

gemma greets lynn with a hug and a kiss on each of her cheeks. she’s grinning, and thanking her over and over again for the cake. lynn’s baking was her favorite, and she admits that she often finds herself inside of the bakery on her lunch breaks.

“tell the cashier your name next time,” lynn says. “whatever you want from now on is on me.”

gemma waves her off with a laugh, and it reminds her of harry, “i could never. i already feel bad when nora slips me an extra shot here and there.”

nora. gemma knows nora and that’s why harry was so okay with doting on her in front of the barista. it wasn’t because he wanted to. he had to.

“really, i insist,” lynn feels harry moving behind her. his arm rests on her waist and he presses his lips to the crown of her head. “i owe it to you for showing up empty handed.”

“if anyone owes anyone anything, i should be giving something to you. it’s been forever since i’ve seen harry at one of these things, and i’m certain i owe all credit to you.”

oliver. she owes it all to oliver. it’s been over two weeks since she’s last seen him, and she wasn’t even supposed to be here.

“heeeeey,” harry whines, and his face doesn’t match his voice. instead, he’s got a big grin on it as he leans forward to hug his sister. one arm wraps around her neck and the other stays exactly where it was on lynn’s back. “happy birthday, gem. missed you.”

“i’m glad you’re here, harry,” she turns her attention back to lynn. “and you, too, lynn. thank you for the cake.”

harry guides lynn to the living room, leaving her to relax on the couch next to drew while he got them drinks. gemma’s husband is nice. he offers lynn comforting smiles and listens attentively when he asks her about herself. she’s a bit surprised when he adds in a few questions about harry, but she answers them to the best of her ability, getting the sense that harry doesn’t check in with them as much as he should.

of course, she tells him that harry’s doing well. lynn chats about their beach vacation and even mentions how thoughtful he was when it came to the dress and dinner reservations. she says he’s attentive and kind, and she loves the way he treats her sisters. when drew asks how his classes are going, lynn’s vague with her answer, only saying that he’s doing well. she’s not entirely sure if he (or gemma) knew about harry’s recent drop out, and she definitely wasn’t going to be the one to let that out.

“i’m glad he has you,” he says it with sad eyes, making lynn furrow her brows. “he hasn’t come around much recently. i think the last time i saw him at one of gemma’s birthday celebrations, he was only seventeen.”

lynn doesn’t have time to respond because harry’s joining them again, this time with a hard seltzer in one hand and a bottle of water in the other which he keeps for himself. drew switches his attention to harry, and it’s so obvious that the older man cares for him. he asks him questions with actual depth. there was none of that “so…how’ve you been?” bullshit that seemed to be the only thing to fall from the rest of the family’s lips. drew was actually interested in what harry had to say, and even if he wasn’t, he did a damn good job at acting like it.

if he didn’t show he cared enough through his words, his actions did. at least lynn thought so. when his grandmother walked in, her eyes fell on harry and almost immediately, a sour expression took over her face.

“what’s he doing here?” her voice feels venomous, and lynn can feel the way harry tenses next to her when it falls on his ears. obviously, drew heard it, too. instead of giving the old woman any attention, he simply angled his body to block her out of harry’s sight and continued the conversation like nothing had happened.

lynn wishes marianne’s mom didn’t have such an effect on him. she can see it in the way his knee bounces. there’s little beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck, and lynn bets she could hear the pounding of his heart if she were to press her ear against his chest. she felt so fucking bad for him.

so, she offers him whatever she can without drawing his attention away from the conversation with his brother-in-law. it starts with a squeeze of his hand before she takes it into her own. she lets her thumb brush against his knuckles, noticing the absence of the rings he usually wears.

when drew gets up to help set the table, harry slides his hand to lynn’s knee. a smile forms on his lips, and he squeezes once. nothing’s said, but lynn understands it. at least she thinks she does. she kisses his cheek, and harry catches her chin before she can pull away, bringing her lips to his. their kiss isn’t anything more than a peck, but lynn can’t ignore the way the want for him begins stirring up in her belly.

“you alright?” her words are quiet, just meant for him.

“yeah,” her murmurs. “i’m glad you’re here.”

“me, too,” the shy smile forms on his face again and she soaks it up. lynn tries her best to capture this moment, hoping it’s a part of her seven minute long memory reel when she dies. even if it was just a show for his family. “c’mon. let’s go help drew.”

the dinner isn’t entirely unbearable. lynn sits between harry and his mother, and gemma and drew sit across from them. his grandmother is placed next to gemma and across from marianne, and john takes the head of the table. different conversations float throughout the group, mostly centered around gemma, and lynn’s thankful for it because every time harry’s name is mentioned, the older woman either scoffs or mutters something under her breath.

harry doesn’t seem to pay any mind to it at first. he chats with drew and once they run out of things to say, he turns to lynn, wanting to be caught up on all things jane and amelia. he lets out a dramatic gasp with his hand to his chest when lynn reveals that amelia is still texting the boy from the beach, and it makes her laugh.

it feels like they’re in their own little world at the table as they share hushed whispers and quiet giggles with each other. it reminds her of when they went to the restaurant in florida. their conversation holds nothing of substance, and it feels like she’s actually getting to know him without some kind of depressing cloud looming over them.

when a childhood story is shared by gemma, she learns his favorite color is yellow, he loves sunflowers (not as much as his sister does), and the two would often spend long games of hide and seek amongst the fields near his grandmother’s house. the story turns into one about the summers they spent there, and his sister recalls harry spending night after night on the floor of her bedroom after they watched monsters inc with tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

the corners of his mouth are turned downward, and lynn hates that what’s supposed to be happy childhood memory makes him sad. she lets her chin rest on his shoulder, facing away from the rest of the group, “it sounds like your grandma loved you so much then. i’m sure she’ll come around.”

“i hope so,” he murmurs, and it makes lynn want to cry.

“how about cake?” marianne asks, standing up from the table.

“ooh please,” gemma says, and then turns her attention to her grandmother. “you’re going to love it, gram. lynn makes the best cakes.”

“that’s what you do?” the old woman asks. “work in a bakery?”

john laughs under his breath, and before lynn can even say something, she hears harry’s voice from behind her, “she owns the bakery.”

his grandmother only hums, and by the look on gemma’s face, lynn thinks that this is the first time he’s spoken to her in a while. her heart thumps at the assumption.

“i’ll take you one weekend,” gemma says to her grandma. “there’s a market, too. it’ll be so much fun.”

“i usually keep it closed on sunday’s,” lynn interrupts, fingers pinching at harry's cheek which earns a laugh from him. “made a special exception today with harry’s help.”

as if on cue, drew walks out with the cake, a brightly lit ‘25’ candle in the center. mari’s singing happy birthday, and the rest of the group joins in. lynn watches with envy as drew slides the cake in front of his wife and then leans forward to wrap his arms around her neck. the action makes gemma grin, and once she blows out her candles, lynn catches the “i’ve already got my wish” that she whispers to him along with a squeeze of his hand.

ugh. when will someone love her like that?

“cake looks delicious, ev,” harry gains her attention with his whisper. “thank you again.”

“y’don’t have to thank me.”

he pats her knee under the table, leaving his hand to rest there while marianne starts to cut the cake and pass around the slices. gemma gets the first, and then drew, and then she holds out a plate to her mother, who rudely puts her hand out and pushes it away.

“not if harry helped with it,” and lynn expects for someone to jump to his defense. to say something. anything. but seconds pass, and no one does.

her shock is probably evident in the way her jaw falls to the floor. even drew, who was just whining about missing harry at family functions, has his attention turned toward his hands in his lap. gemma’s pushes the dessert around on the plate, and marianne is looking sympathetically…at her mother.

“oh, come on, son. lighten up,” john breaks the silence first. “you can’t expect everyone to be so accepting of your lifestyle.”

lifestyle? harry’s touch falls from her leg, and when she looks over at him, her chest fucking aches. she can see the tears glassing over his eyes, rapid, heavy blinking keeping them from spilling over. teeth scrape over his bottom lip, and he keeps his eyes glued to the empty space in front of him.

she wants to pull him into her and tickle him with kisses until he’s a breathless, giggling mess, pushing her away just for a little gasp of air. if it were just them, lynn would let him rest his head in her lap and trace words onto his skin until he fell asleep. he’d leave the next morning with the sentence faintly bruised into his skin. i love you in hues of browns and blues.

of course, she only means it platonically right now, but maybe someday the words would hold more. she selfishly wishes that she’ll be the one to make him forget about every nasty thing his stupid family has ever said about him. that ten years from now, all he’ll know is her and her love, and even if that never happens, lynn hopes that she can prove to him that he’s more than what they make him out to be. that he deserves everything good.

or maybe he’ll find that again with oliver. it didn’t matter. as long as he got it.

“i think i saw some ice cream in the freezer,” gemma says, and then she pushes herself from the table. “i’ll go check, gram.”

“let me help you,” mari offers. she gives harry’s shoulder a squeeze when she walks past him, and lynn can see the way he curls into himself at the contact. god, she wanted to grab the woman’s hand and squeeze it until all of the bones in her fingers shattered.

minutes pass, and when lynn catches a tear finally slip down harry’s cheek, she can’t stop herself from excusing herself to see if the other women needed help.

"it makes me sick to see the way you guys let her treat him," lynn’s not even entirely in the kitchen when the words fall from her mouth.

"she's from a different time, lynn,” marianne defends herself, and the tone of her voice makes lynn’s skin itch. she sounds so nonchalant. how can you watch your son be visibly devastated by his grandmother’s words and not say anything?

"who gives a fuck?” she can’t help herself. “he's your son."

"and she's my mother. i could never choose between the two of them."

"except you do, and you never choose him."

"i wouldn't expect you to understand. she's-" gemma starts.

lynn scoffs, not being able to listen to the two of them a second longer, "the only thing i need to understand is the fact that he loves you guys with every fiber in his being, and you both decide to sit back and watch silently as she demeans him. you should be ashamed," she turns her attention to gemma, pointing her finger at the girl as she speaks. "especially you. harry speaks so highly of you in everything he has to say and to sit here and see the way you just turn your head at the things she has to say… i would never, ever let my grandmother talk to my little sisters like that. especially if they came here for me and no one else."

she can taste the saltiness on her lips from the tears she didn’t even realize were falling. lynn’s not sure if its the hurt from hearing these two talk about harry like that or if it’s because her chest is heaving so hard, but she aches. maybe it’s because she knows how badly it hurts, but lynn lets out a sob that she muffles with the back of her hand. she doesn’t mean to, really. harry just deserved so much better.

"can we leave?" his quiet voice behind her makes her jump.

"harry-" it’s marianne.

“yeah, of course,” she moves to him, not letting his mother finish her sentence. “let’s go.”

harry’s already carrying both of their bags in his hand so they leave without saying goodbye to anyone, and lynn couldn’t be more thankful. by the quietness filling the house, she guesses that they all heard her little outburst. maybe she should be more embarrassed by her behavior, but honestly, she doesn’t really care.

unless harry was upset with her, and by the silence he was offering her…

"i’m sorry," she says once they’re outside. “i overstepped, and-

harry pulls her into him, the rest of her sentence dissolving into a gasp. his arms are around her waist pulling her against him so tightly, she can barely breathe. lynn feels his tears wetting the skin of her neck and the small shakes of his body with every exhale.

“thank you,” his words are pressed into her skin. “no one’s ever…thank you.”

“nothing you have to thank me for,” lynn lets her hands slide up his back until they can wrap around his neck. she’d let him hold her against him for as long as he wanted. maybe if things were real between them, she’d kiss him, too. “do you want me to take you to oliver’s?”

harry pulls away, searching her face as if her question had some kind of hidden meaning. one of her hands move to cup his cheek, thumb stretching to wipe away all of the sticky tears. his glassy eyes are just boring into hers, and lynn wishes she could take all of his pain away.

"i feel like i haven't seen you in forever, evy. could we go to yours?"

and how can she say no when he uses that name. “i have to finish up some stuff at the bakery. we can get chinese on the way if you want.”

“yeah,” harry breathes. “i would.”

so, lynn calls in their usual order at their favorite place when they’re finally in her car. it’s a good thirty minutes out of the way, but she doesn’t really care. there’s a wine store right next to it, and she thinks if she chooses the right parking spot, she could run into both of the stores without harry seeing.

she drives with one hand on the wheel and the other hand intertwined with harry’s. her thumb runs across his knuckles while he sits in the passenger seat with his head pressed against the glass. he keeps his eyes closed, but the way he tightly grasps her hand anytime she starts to let go lets her know that he’s still awake.

the wine shop is still open when they pull into the parking lot of the little strip mall, so she runs in there first. it doesn’t take long to find the white wine section. lynn could never say no to a chilled glass of pinot grigio, and she knew that harry would happily share the bottle with her without a complaint, but throughout their week in florida, she noticed that he tended to reach for the bottle labeled citruskissed if they had it in their fridge or if they made a stop at the grocery store. so, she gets a bottle of each before making her way to the chinese restaurant.

while lynn waits for the cashier to grab their order from the kitchen, she can’t help but wonder if harry considers this place their favorite place, too. maybe he told oliver about it, saying ‘lynn and i love this place.’ just like she did with silas. or maybe it was just his, and he mentioned his favorite restaurant to oliver.

whatever. it was a minuscule detail, and it didn’t really matter, but the thought of them sharing something in his mind makes her face warm a little.

she slides the bags in her backseat before getting back in the car. harry was sitting up right, fingers picking at the skin on the side of his thumb like he was nervous. his eyes were teary again and his bottom lip was red and shiny with spit, probably from gnawing on it.

“i don’t want you to think i didn’t want you there,” harry says before she could even get her seatbelt on.

“i didn’t think—”

“you did,” he interrupts. “i saw it on your face when my sister said whatever she did about you convincing me to go.”

“i didn’t convince you to go, harry. you were already going, and i practically invited myself—”

“no. no, ev,” he’s shaking his head. “you did. when i saw you with your parents, and how you didn’t let your relationship with them affect your relationship with your sisters. i thought that maybe i could do that, too, and i wanted you there, but…”

“you don’t have to explain anything to me, har,” lynn takes his hands in her own. “i get it.”

“we weren’t talking,” his brows are drawn together, and he keeps his eyes focused on the center console. “i didn’t know how to ask you. i’m just…so embarrassed of the way i let them treat me. i don’t want you to think—”

“i think you deserve better. that’s what i think,” she says. “and we’re friends, harry. i’ll always show up for you, even if we haven’t spoken in a bit.”

“you don’t have to babysit me, you know. you still have work to do tonight, and i don’t want you to feel obligated to hang out with me just because i’m sad.”

“i don’t feel like i’m babysitting you at all,” her voice is full of sincerity. “i missed you, and i want to spend time with you.”

“i’m no fun to be around right now.”

“i’m sure i wasn’t much fun to be around in florida,” lynn replies.

“that’s different. i didn’t mind—”

“it’s the exact same thing. i don’t mind at all right now,” her finger points to the back seat. “we have dinner, and i got us our favorite wines. if this is because i asked if you wanted me to take you to oliver’s, i just thought that you’d want to be around him instead.”

“i don’t,” his voice is quiet, almost like if he said the words any louder he’d be betraying the boy. “you’re the only person i want to be around right now.”

“okay,” lynn says. “i want to be around you, too. y’dont have to push me away.”

“okay,” harry squeezes her hands once before letting go. he turns to put his seatbelt back on, and then, “is it citruskissed?”

lynn grins, “of fucking course it’s citruskissed. think better of me.”

the drive back to her bakery wasn’t as long as she remembers it to be, but maybe that was only because she spent the entirety of it trying to walk harry through using the ebay app.

at a rather long red light, she convinced him to list some of his paintings for an outrageous price. it was a trend she had seen online. artists would list their work, and sometimes people would bid nearly five digits for them. lynn had mentioned that financial freedom from his parents might help (at least it did for her), and he was downloading the app seconds later.

the two eat their chinese food right out of the containers with plastic cups full to the brim with their wine at one of the tiny tables in the bakery’s dining area. the overhead lights are kept off, and they use the warm glow from stray lamps lynn had thrifted over the years instead.

she’s spent many long nights just like this one in her bakery. the lights were always dimmed as she ate the chinese delivery in her office. music usually quietly played from the speakers, and there was a sense of calmness that floated around the small building. lynn always loved the time she spent working late alone, but right now, she thinks she loves sharing it with harry even more.

he’s comfortable around her again, and not a second goes by that’s not taken up by one of their voices as they talk around bites of lo mein and fried rice. he tells her about his teenage years, and just how into theater he was. lynn can’t help the giggle that slips out when she pictures harry in costume on stage.

she tries to talk him into joining the community theater, and of course, he makes a joke of it. she doesn’t want to press, but lynn thinks if he ever did decide to join, she’d be front and center at every one of his plays with a bouquet of sunflowers tucked gently underneath her seat.

“did you ever try to rekindle things with silas?”

“what?” lynn’s fork holding a bite of lo mein stops mid air.

“sorry, it’s none of my business.”

there’s a bubble of laughter rising in her chest, and she does her best to keep it down, “you do know silas is gay, right?”

harry chokes on his sip of wine, “what?”

his eyes are wide and lynn can’t stop the laughter from spilling out. it’s such a genuine laugh that she can feel deep in her stomach. tears pool at the corner of her eyes, and when she looks over, harry is laughing softly, too.

“i can’t believe you thought that…” her fingertips press into the ache in her side that seemed to grow with each laugh. “i can’t even finish. that’s absurd, harry.”

“you two just seemed so-”

“don’t,” she holds her hand up, one last giggle leaving her lips. “you’ve said enough.”

lynn finishes pouring the forgotten chocolate batter into cupcake tins while harry cleans up their dinner mess. it’s late by now. the sun’s set, and she expects him to say he has to go after he’s finished tossing everything in the trash. he doesn’t though. instead, he brings out her office chair and watches again.

neither one of them speaks, and lynn can’t help but wonder what harry’s thinking about. every time she looks over, his face softens and a smile forms on his lips when their eyes meet. the sight of him makes her want to lay on her bed, kicking her feet like a schoolgirl as she draws little e.a. + h.s.’s inside of hearts in her notebook.

lynn’s icing the cupcakes when she lets him plug his phone into the bakery’s sound system. harry chooses hozier again, but this time lynn knows the words of work song as soon as it starts playing through the speakers.

i'm so full of love i could barely eat.

she remembers when the song was first released. she’d lay in her bed in her parents’ house listening to it with her headphones on max volume, wishing that this was the song she could relate to instead of cherry wine.

“god, harry,” lynn can’t help herself once he returns back to the kitchen. “you must be so in love with him. i’ve never heard someone listen to this much mushy music.”

harry smiles, but it’s sad. (probably from earlier.) “yeah, something like that.”

it’s nearing midnight when she puts the last of the cupcakes in the display case. harry’s moved to the table they were sitting at earlier, his face buried in his arms. lynn thinks he might only be resting, but the soft snores that sometimes bounce off of the walls of the bakery tell her otherwise.

she does her best to close everything up quietly, not wanting to wake him, and then goes to finish up the dishes. lynn’s not really sure why he decided to nap at the table instead of going home to sleep in his comfortable bed, but she isn’t complaining. she would never give up a second of time spent with harry. even if it was spent watching him nap.

thinking about the fact that there will be a day when he would rather be around oliver when he’s sad makes her stomach twist. lynn knows it would probably be best to distance herself. nothing good would come out of letting herself fall in love with him. he even said it himself when they first started this whole fake relationship. he’d do it as long as she didn’t fall in love with him, and something tells her that he’s not very keen on changing his mind.

lynn puts their half empty bottles of wine into a bag, and boxes up the chocolate cupcake she had made especially for harry to take back to his. it was a mini version of the cake she had given to gemma, only a little better. it had raspberry filling and thick cream cheese frosting, and she hoped he’d like it.

her fingers brush against his arm and move to scratch at his back, quiet murmurs of his name leaving her lips. harry offers her a sleepy smile when he lifts his head, and before thinking, lynn offers him a spot in her bed in return. she’s embarrassed for even offering, but harry accepts before she finishes her sentence.

harry takes the bags and boxes from her as she turns off the last remaining lamp and joins him outside. her keys echo in the darkness as she tries to lock the door, and after a few minutes, harry offers his phone flashlight, illuminating the lock.

they share the cupcake as soon as they get into the car. harry uses the nearby streetlight to carefully shove spoonfuls of the raspberry filling and chocolate cake into lynn’s mouth. he keeps the frosting all for himself, quiet hums of appreciation falling from his mouth with every bite.

“still having trouble sleeping?” his words are slurred in the passenger seat of her car not even five minutes into the drive.

“not as much,” she admits. “i, um, went to a psychiatrist and got some sleeping meds.”

“yeah?” he hums. “and they work?”

“usually. not always.”

“i’m sorry,” he leans his head back against the headrest, eyes closing again. harry’s hand reaches for her's and he presses his sugary lips against the back of it like it was a normal thing for him to be doing. “y’always deserve the best sleep. i wish we could trade places… my hardworking girl.”

my girl? lynn’s thanking god that his eyes are closed because the blush from his words practically takes over her whole body. every inch of her skin is on fire, and when she catches herself in the rear view mirror, her reflection matches that of a red light.

when lynn finally gains enough courage to look over at him, he’s fast asleep again.

✰✰✰

a/n: yay she's here!!! only two more parts waaa hopefully i'll have the next one out soon

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sweetblinginrose · 12 days

Text

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: Rival Dungeons and Dragons reader who has a tournament and ends up without clothes. Oops…

word count: 6,6k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, bad language, cumming inside, female masturbation, culilingus.

a/n: hey lol, i wrote this half asleep so idk how it turned out, i'll see if it's any good or not later, so if there is something wrongly translated or that you don't find makes sense, pls let me know, hugs!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh 🦄

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

The Sith Order.

All the members of the Hellfire Club and your group, The Sith Order, maintained a cordial and mutually respectful relationship, with the exception of the tense rivalry between you and the opposing leader, the insufferable Eddie. You hated him so much, especially now that you had bet your grand dice, which your brother had given you as a gift.

The abandoned cabin loomed like a shadow among the trees of the forest, a forgotten refuge that now housed your group of friends and your imaginary adventures. Inside, the air was filled with a smell of dampness and earth, a constant reminder of nature reclaiming its space. The once cozy and lived-in furniture was now covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs that wove complex patterns in every corner.

The sofa, your throne, was worn out, with upholstery torn in several places, revealing the crumbling yellowed foam at the touch. Dark stains of time adorned the fabric, and every time you moved, a cloud of dust rose like a sigh from the cabin itself. Sitting there, on your stomach, with a furrowed brow and crossed arms, you couldn't help but feel the rough and cold texture of the sofa against your skin, a reminder of your recent defeat in the game.

Around you, the tables wobbled on uneven legs, their surfaces scratched and marked with circles from past glasses. The faded and torn curtains hung sadly from the windows, allowing dim light to filter in and illuminate the dust particles in the air. The floor creaked under the weight of footsteps, and each floorboard seemed to tell a story of abandonment.

In this space, time seemed to have stopped, and every object told the story of a better past now eclipsed by neglect and desolation.

You felt as if a storm was brewing inside you, a mixture of frustration and challenge that consumed you as you sat on the sofa. The defeat in the friendly game was a thorn in your pride, a small battle lost in a war that seemed to extend beyond the game of dragons and dungeons. The rivalry with the Hellfire Club and its leader, Eddie, was the real dragon to be defeated, and every thought of him fueled the flames of your resentment.

Eddie, with his arrogant smile and his ability to bring out the best in his players, had become the antagonist not only in the game, but in your mind and life. You imagined him, with his tousled hair and carefree attitude, as the perfect villain for your campaign, one who seemed to enjoy every time his group came out victorious. The idea that he might consider your defeat as a point in his favor was unbearable.

While your friends continued with the campaign, laughing, stressed, focused, and rolling dice, you immersed yourself in your thoughts, planning your next move. It was not just a matter of winning a game; it was a matter of honor, of proving that your group could overcome any challenge, even the infamous Hellfire Club. Determination began to replace frustration, and although you still felt the bitterness of defeat, there was now a new goal on the horizon: to defeat Eddie and prove that your group was the best in the fantasy game.

But... were you really prepared for tonight?

...

Eddie, with a sly smile and a spark of malice in his eyes, steps forward to greet you in the lair of the Hellfire Club, the basement of the institute, the setting of countless campaigns and now the battlefield of your latest challenge. As the girls from your club gather in the space, filled with detailed maps and meticulously painted character figures, Eddie focuses on you, his most formidable rival.

"Welcome, oh great 'Mialee!'" he exclaims with an exaggeratedly theatrical and ironic tone, making a reference to the elven mage character to underline his mockery. "I hope your spells are as sharp as your tongue this time, and that your strategies are less predictable than your expressions of defeat."

You can feel the gaze of the others on you, some with complicit smiles and others with cautious curiosity. Eddie continues, not missing the opportunity to poke at your pride: "I hope you brought your Dragon Crystal Die, because something tells me you're going to need all the luck you can get."

The lair resonates with the stifled laughter of the club members, and although you know that Eddie's words are part of the rivalry game, you also feel that each joke is a challenge to your skill and determination. With a firm gaze and unwavering resolve, you prepare to show that this battle will be different, that this time, Eddie will be the one left speechless at the end of the night.

"You are living proof that not everything that glitters in a treasure is gold, and in your case, it's not even copper," you say, challenging him as you look him in the eyes. With a confidence that resonates in every word, you confront Eddie, your eyes shining with the reflection of the candles that illuminate the basement. "I hope you haven't forgotten your part of the bet, Eddie," you say with a firm and clear voice that cuts through the tension in the room. "That Orb of Entwined Destinies you so proudly show off will be mine before the moon reaches its zenith."

The Orb of Entwined Destinies was a perfect sphere of dark crystal, with a core that seemed to contain a miniature nebula, ever-changing and slowly rotating. It was more than just an object for Eddie; it was a symbol of his ability to manipulate probabilities and destiny within the game.

The mention of the orb makes Eddie's smile falter for a moment, a crack in his facade of confidence. You know you have hit a sensitive point, reminding him that you are not the only one with something valuable at stake. "Get ready, Eddie," you continue, "because when I'm done with you and the Hellfire Club, that orb will be the trophy of The Sith Order, and your luck will change forever," you spit, leaving the boys dumbfounded, unlike his group of friends, as they were used to this kind of speech.

Lucas, with a carefree smile and a tone bordering on disbelief, tries to lighten the atmosphere that has built up in the room. "Come on, guys, don't you realize? It's just a dumb bet, right? There's no need to turn this into an epic battle or something..." he comments, his voice a thread of sanity in the tapestry of rivalry unfolding before him.

However, his attempt to lighten the mood is quickly quashed by a severe look from both leaders, who in a rare moment of unity gesture to him with a stern gesture and an almost synchronized "Shh!" The seriousness of their bet is not something they are willing to downplay, even with Lucas' playful interjection.

The battle between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club unfolds in a fantasy world woven with the magic of dragons and dungeons, but the tension is as real as the beating hearts of the players. The room, illuminated by the flickering light of the candles, has transformed into an epic battlefield where each roll of the dice resonates like the clash of swords.

The Sith Order bravely faces the challenges posed by Eddie and his Hellfire Club. The dice roll on the table like distant thunder, dictating the fate of heroes and villains alike. You, The Sith Order, with characters ranging from cunning rogues to powerful sorceresses, maneuver through traps and puzzles that Eddie has crafted with malicious skill. The battle intensifies, with each strategic move and each spell cast adding layers to the unfolding narrative. Your characters fight hordes of infernal creatures, cross dark abysses, and decipher ancient codices to unravel the secrets that will lead them to victory.

As the night progresses, a tie seems imminent. The Hellfire Club has countered every attack, every plan, with a precision bordering on the supernatural. But you, with your leading character, are not willing to give up. With a mix of cunning and a bit of luck, you roll the dice for one last masterful play. Silence fills the room as the dice roll, dancing on the edge of the abyss between victory and defeat. Finally, they settle, and the numbers they show are the harbinger of a tide change. Your play has been successful, overcoming the defenses of the Hellfire Club and securing an unexpected triumph.

Eddie, with a look of genuine astonishment, acknowledges the victory of The Sith Order, albeit reluctantly. You, with a smile of satisfaction, accept the Orb of Entwined Destinies, now rightfully yours.

Amidst the euphoria of victory, one of the girls from your group, with a contagious smile and an overflowing energy, suggests an idea that captures everyone's attention. "How about we celebrate with some pizzas? It would be great to relax and enjoy the moment," she says enthusiastically.

The idea is met with a mix of nods and smiles. It is a comfortable and familiar proposition, a perfect way to lower the intensity of the night and simply enjoy each other's company. Everyone, except you and Eddie, seems to agree. The tension of the battle still clings to you, and the idea of sharing a table with Eddie and his club, even in a neutral and friendly environment, is something that you find hard to accept, just like Eddie.

However, aware that rejecting the offer could be seen as poor sportsmanship, both of you reluctantly agree with a gesture of resignation. "Fine, but only because I'm hungry," you murmur, trying to hide your reluctance behind a practical excuse. Eddie nods silently, his serious expression revealing his reluctant agreement.

And so, with victory still fresh and emotions running high, the group sets off to share a meal that promises to be as full of flavor as it is of interesting dynamics.

The night has slipped into a soft twilight when everyone, now relieved of the tension of the game, finds themselves in Eddie's van. The space is filled with laughter and the sound of bottles clinking together. "Cheers!" the group shouts for the sixth time, raising their beers in the air in a toast that has become a ritual.

Eddie's van, with its worn seats, stickers, dirt, and windows displaying the world passing by at high speed, has become a temporary sanctuary of camaraderie. With each new "Cheers!", the barriers between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club seem to dissolve a little more, erased by the alcohol and the shared joy. Or so it seems...

Eddie's van snakes along the road, a lonely path flanked by the silhouette of trees gently swaying under the starry sky. In the front seats, silence between Eddie and you is a marked contrast to the bustle that reigns in the back, where the rest of the group sings enthusiastically game anthems, interspersed with laughter and the sound of opening beers.

You, with crossed legs and a beer can resting in your hands, get lost in contemplation of the nature that unfolds before your eyes. The moonlight bathes the landscape, transforming each tree and bush into dancing shadows that play hide and seek with each turn of the road.

Eddie, with his attention focused on the road, drives with a slowness that seems to respect the shared silence. His profile stands out against the occasional glow of distant street lamps, and although you are together in the cabin, an abyss of unspoken words stretches between you.

"Hey..." Eddie's voice breaks the silence, a word hanging in the air that seems to wait for permission to continue. He does not look away from the road, as if fearing that a moment of distraction could reveal more than he intends.

You turn your head towards him, an eyebrow arched in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. It is strange, this attempt at conversation. Outside the game, words between you have been as scarce as leaves in winter. You have never crossed more than strategies and challenges, and now, this attempt at dialogue seems as out of place as a barbarian in a library.

The tension between you is palpable, a taut thread that is woven with each kilometer the van devours. What words will follow that "hey"? Will it be an attempt at a truce, or perhaps the prelude to another challenge? Time seems to stand still as you wait for Eddie to continue, and in that moment, the van is not just a moving vehicle, but a space where two rivals might, just maybe, begin to see each other as something more.

"No... no, nothing. Forget it..." he murmurs softly, not taking his eyes off the road, but now looking more tense, sighing.

You decide not to insist, but this time not averting your gaze from those long locks, but discreetly examining them for some kind of response.

Eddie's van glides to a smooth stop in front of a caravan. As he turns off the engine, Eddie's expression transforms. The seriousness that marked his face during the journey gives way to a genuine smile, an open invitation to continue the night in a space that is as much a part of him as the game they both love. "Come on, guys! The party continues at my place!" he exclaims with enthusiasm, his voice resonating with the promise of more laughter and memories to be created. "We can drink as much as we want, and if anyone's interested, there's weed too. My uncle works nights, so we have the place to ourselves."

Friends and friends respond with a chorus of approval, their stumbling steps and complicit smiles sealing the tacit agreement to extend the celebration. One by one, they enter the caravan, a cozy space illuminated by dim lights and adorned with mementos from trips and caps. A bit messy, but cozy.

You, with a mix of caution and curiosity, are the last to cross the threshold. Your eyes meet Eddie's, and for a moment, the outside world fades away. Eddie closes the door behind you, a simple gesture but loaded with meaning. You stand there, still, remembering the unfinished conversation, the words that Eddie left hanging in the air.

Feeling the weight of the night and the looks charged with unanswered questions, you decide to join the group that has settled in the caravan. You grab a few more beers, your hand brushing against the cold surface of the can, and sit at one end of the narrow sofa from where you can observe the scene. Eddie, on the other hand, seems different tonight. The usual arrogance that characterizes him has given way to an unusual stillness, almost reflective. Was defeat the cause of this change? Or was there something deeper behind his silence?

With each passing minute, glances between you meet like swords in a silent duel, full of questions that neither of you dares to voice aloud. After an hour of this game of looks, you feel the need to escape, if only for a moment, from the intensity of the atmosphere.

"Where is the bathroom?" you ask, your voice strangely formal in the relaxed atmosphere. Eddie points to a small hallway at the back, and you get up, navigating the space filled with laughter and conversations until you reach the bathroom.

Inside, you find yourself facing the mirror, your reflection returning an image of someone who seems to be on the border between two worlds. You wet the back of your neck, not wanting to ruin your makeup, and step out, feeling refreshed but still restless.

As you pass through the narrow exit of the bathroom, you collide with the partially open door of Eddie's room, and curiosity gets the better of you. You discreetly peek inside, your eyes scanning the space that is so intimately his. The room is adorned with posters of rock bands, metal, clothes everywhere, magazines scattered on the floor, and action figures of fantasy heroes, a mix of passions that reveal facets of Eddie that you had never considered. On the bed lies an open diary with scribbles and handwritten notes.

Eddie, with his carefree smile, leans against the doorframe, watching you with curiosity as you try to process the mess. "What are you doing here?" he repeats, his voice gentle but clearly amused by your confused expression. The scent of marijuana is evident, and his eyes, although red, gleam with a mischievous spark. He seems not to mind in the least your presence in his personal sanctuary. You feel like an intruder in an unknown world, every object in the room telling a story that only Eddie knows. However, he, with that calm bordering on indifference, gestures for you to enter. "Come, I'll show you my collection," he says casually, and suddenly, the place transforms. What was chaos before now seems like an art gallery, each hanging T-shirt, each vinyl, and each magazine clipping is a piece of his identity. He guides you through his space, narrating anecdotes of concerts and trips, his voice a thread weaving a tapestry of lived experiences.

The initial embarrassment fades away, replaced by fascination at discovering the depth of Eddie's personality. And as he shares his world with you, the messy room becomes a map of his personal universe, a place that, despite the disorder, now makes sense.

As you survey the room with your gaze, something catches your attention and takes your breath away: a proudly displayed B.C. Rich guitar hanging on the wall.

It is a red and shiny beauty, with its aggressive shapes and air of mystery, a piece that any metal lover would desire. Your heart beats with excitement, not only because of the surprise of finding such a treasure in Eddie's room, but because metal is your passion, one of the many things you have in common with Eddie without even knowing it, a detail he is unaware of.

He notices your excitement and, with a mischievous smile, takes down the guitar and hands it to you. "It's all yours, at least for now," he says with a wink. You hold it in your hands with reverence, feeling the weight of the wood and the coldness of the metal.

With shyness but moved by the emotion, you ask Eddie to play something. He shrugs, regretting the lack of an amplifier, but he is not discouraged. With a mischievous smile, he starts "playing" the guitar silently, mimicking the sounds with his mouth. It's a parody, but there is something about his attitude that invites you to play along.

"Come on, guess which song this is," he challenges you, as he moves his fingers in the air and imaginary sounds of a song fill the room. You concentrate, trying to follow the rhythm and melody that Eddie creates. The silent notes seem to come to life, and suddenly, you recognize it. It's 'Time Is Right' by Whitesnake.

Laughter fills the room as you guess it, and Eddie nods approvingly. "I knew you were one of mine, babe," he says, and in that moment, the guitar is not just an instrument, but a bridge between two souls who share a hidden passion for metal and many other things.

A blush creeps up your cheeks, an unexpected warmth that takes you by surprise. The word "babe" resonates in your ears, a term so casual and yet, loaded with an intimacy you did not expect. It feels as if you are inside the pages of one of those erotic books your mother used to read in secret, where the protagonists, initially at odds, end up wrapped in a story of love and rough sex.

Eddie's gaze has become more intense, his eyes no longer just reflecting the reddish glow of a pot smoker, but also a different glow, deeper, provoked by your presence. There is something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel like you are the only person in the world at that moment, but at the same time, as if he is undressing you.

You find yourself returning his gaze, unable to look away from his eyes. There is a connection, an unspoken understanding that seems to transcend words. And while a part of you wants to laugh at the situation, at how absurd it is to feel like a character in a pornographic novel, you cannot deny the electricity in the air, that spicy tension that hangs between the two of you.

Eddie takes a step towards you, his proximity overwhelming, and although he does not say anything more, he doesn't need to. Words are unnecessary when the looks speak for themselves. And in that instant, in that messy room that smells of marijuana and freedom, you understand that sometimes, real life can be as surprising and exciting as the stories hidden within the pages of a book.

After that moment, the room seems smaller, as if the walls had closed in to witness the silence shared between you. You decide to break the tension with a nervous smile and a change of subject. "Hey... what did you want to ask me before, you know, in the van?" you ask, stuttering slightly as you feel Eddie's scent filling your nostrils.

Eddie leaned against the threshold of the door, just inches away, watching your lips adorned with an intense crimson and your lined eyes attentively. "Ah, that..." he wondered, feigning forgetfulness. "I think I wanted to say something about Dungeons and Dragons, right?" he inquired with irony, biting his lip as he laughed and crossed his arms.

None of this compared to the fantasies you had with Eddie. Let's admit it, you had imagined countless similar scenarios, all related to the game and its protagonist, Eddie. You had wished for him to touch you in the same way he caresses his guitar. You wanted to be that fucking guitar.

"I don't think I want to talk about that right now..." you whispered, slowly moving closer to Eddie, who raised an eyebrow and smiled widely, catching your hint.

"Well then, if you don't want to listen to me, why don't you shut me up?" he whispered near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He grabbed your belt, holding your short denim skirt, forcing you to be pressed against him. "I said, why don't you shut me up..."

Eddie played dirty even outside of his character. He wanted you to take the initiative, perhaps to mock you or further feed his ego, but you wouldn't allow that to happen. With confidence, you ran your tongue over your lips and approached his neck, whispering, "I don't plan on silencing you. I enjoy listening to you and narrating each campaign..." This excited him, caressing your shoulder and getting closer, causing your breasts to press against him, eliciting a reaction in his groin. "Then, shut me up. I know you've wanted to since you met me," you whispered, trying to provoke him, with some success.

He responded by pushing you against the wall, trapping you between it and his body, placing his thigh between yours and gripping your waist tightly, feeling the coldness of his rings against your bare skin. "What I've wanted since I met you is to fuck you on the Harken map, so that your screams scare away the undead lurking there..." he muttered with a deep voice, softly kissing your collarbone, causing a sigh to escape your lips. With captivating slowness, Eddie guides his lips to yours, each movement deliberate and filled with anticipation. When they finally meet, the kiss is like an explosion of fire, burning and passionate. His lips sink into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless, and his tongue boldly slides in to explore every corner of your mouth from the very first moment.

As your lips entwine in a sensual dance, his hands find your breasts with a firmness that surprises and excites you at the same time. The pressure of his hands cupping your breasts sends a wave of pleasure through your body, making you involuntarily shudder at the intense and unfamiliar sensation. You never expected this reaction, but you find yourself completely captivated by the desire that Eddie awakens in you, leaving you craving more of his passionate touch.

Eddie suddenly stops, his fingers noticing the absence of the bra he expected to find. A mischievous spark shines in his eyes as he looks at you with a mixture of surprise and desire. With a naughty smile on his lips, he whispers in your ear in a seductive tone, "Wow, looks like the girl comes with nothing...," murmuring with a hoarse voice, his warm breath sending shivers down your naked skin. His comment, though bold, is imbued with an irresistible sensuality that makes you blush and feel even more drawn to him. It feels like you're in a scene taken straight from one of those forbidden novels your mother used to find in the library, but this time, you're the protagonist, enveloped in the heat of shared desire with Eddie.

With expert dexterity, Eddie deepens the kiss, intensifying each brush of his lips against yours. As his tongue explores yours with unrestrained passion, his thigh slides and exerts pressure between yours, finding its way under your denim skirt, lifting it almost completely, hitting just that sensitive spot that makes your whole body react instantly.

"Mhmmm..." an involuntary moan escapes your lips as you feel the perfectly placed pressure of his thigh against you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You feel the need to ride that leg. You were very wet at that moment, so the touch was making you even wetter.

He moves it with precision between yours, creating a delicious friction that awakens sensations that make you gasp against his lips. Each movement is calculated, designed to provoke maximum pleasure, as his thigh finds that sensitive spot on your body, sending waves of excitement through you.

"You've got me so hard..." with a throaty whisper, he makes you aware of the effect you have on him, sending a thrill of excitement down your spine. His warm breath against your lips only increases the intensity of the moment. You feel your heart pounding hard as you let yourself be carried away by the passion swirling around you. Then, with seductive skill, he leans slightly down, his strong hands gripping the bottom of your thighs to open you up and wrap around his waist. The change in position allows his bulge to press directly against your underwear, which is exposed by the previous lifting of your skirt. A wave of desire surges through your being as you feel his prominence brushing directly against your sensitive and swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure that seem to electrify every fiber of your being.

The movements of his hips are precise and deliberate, each delicious brush torturous while engulfing you deeper into the abyss of pleasure. The sounds of your ragged breathing blend with the seductive whispers and soft moans escaping between hot kisses. You are completely at the mercy of the passion Eddie unleashes in you, lost in the whirlwind of overwhelming sensations that threaten to consume you completely.

The barely contained moan escapes your lips between kisses as you feel Eddie's gentle hip movement, a movement that sends you soaring to the heights of pleasure. Still with your thighs tightly wrapped around his hips, you give in to a wild and passionate kiss, with an intensity that defies any limit.

The kiss becomes a whirlwind of unabated passion, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you let yourself be carried away by the overwhelming sensations. Amidst the heat of the moment, you feel Eddie release one of your legs, changing the dynamics of the position and making you feel his bulge even more. Now, in this new position, the contact with his clothed cock is even more evident, causing you to instinctively arch your hips towards him, seeking more contact, more friction. You feel his hands grip your buttocks firmly, aggressively pressing you against his jeans, as if he is eager to feel you even closer.

The brushes and hip movements become increasingly intense, a symphony of pleasure that seems to have no end. You are completely immersed in the moment.

"Mmhm... fuck..." Between moans escaping your lips, accompanied by the sensual movements of your hips, Eddie suddenly stops, only to turn off the bedroom light and then guides you, still with your body on top of his, to his disheveled bed. He places you on your back on the tousled sheets, and positions himself above you, burning desire reflected in his gaze as he begins to explore your neck with hot kisses and licks. Each touch of his tongue against your skin awakens an electric sensation that makes you tremble with pleasure. His expert hands play with your nipples from inside your top, squeezing and teasing them while his thighs continue to exert delicious pressure on your intimate area, making you gasp with each movement, holding onto his back.

Slowly, your rival moves down your body with controlled impatience, licking and kissing your abdomen eagerly before quickly lifting your top and leaving you exposed before him. His lips find your breasts, and he kisses and licks them with devotion, as if they are the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. His long hair sometimes gets tangled in his face, but when you start gently tugging on it for pleasure, he moves away, leaving behind an incredibly enticing scene that makes you arch your hips forward instinctively.

While Eddie continues to lavish attention on your breasts, his hands begin to explore above your underwear with his ring finger, stroking gently from top to bottom. "Do you like it like this?" he asks between kisses and licks, asking you with a husky voice if you're enjoying yourself, establishing an intimate and desire-filled dialogue that only increases the sexual tension between you. "Or is it better like this?" he increases the speed of his touch.

Your silence prompts Eddie to grab your chin firmly, his fingers exerting a dominant and sexual pressure as he forces you to look into his eyes. When you finally respond to his question with an intense gaze, he slowly releases you, going back down to give attention to your body. His lips find your panties, and he kisses and licks them eagerly, soaking them with his saliva mixed with your own excited wetness.

With precise and deliberate movements, Eddie slowly pulls down your panties, placing soft kisses on your inner thigh as he slides them down your legs. Once he has removed your panties, his eyes meet your exposed, naked, and wet pussy, and he can't help but feel his cock throbbing with an unprecedented intensity, eager to satisfy the burning desire between them. You feel incredibly exposed under his heated gaze, but Eddie sees you as a work of art, a sight that excites him to the limit. Without wasting time, Eddie gives you a generic lick to your wet pussy, spreading your lips with his fingers to access your exposed clit directly. An overwhelming moan escapes your lips at the wave of pleasure that courses through your body, but Eddie quickly covers your mouth, whispering that you can't moan to avoid being heard in the common area where the others are.

With a mischievous smile on his face, Eddie realizes that the loud music has concealed any sound that would have revealed their activities in the bedroom. With your mouth still covered, he delves into the task with renewed eagerness, licking and sucking your clit with an intensity that makes your body arch in response. Each suck and each lick sends waves of pleasure through you, taking you to the edge of ecstasy over and over again. Your hips move instinctively in response to the overwhelming pleasure, but Eddie firmly controls them, maintaining a rhythm that takes you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. With an expert hand, he begins caressing your abdomen, slowly descending until reaching your clit, parting his mouth for a moment to touch it with his fingers before inserting two of them without any prior preparation.

The sudden stimulus causes your eyes to roll back, and your thighs tighten with force from the pleasure that overwhelms you, arching your back and moving your hips towards the direction of the long-haired person. In a short time, Eddie goes back to action, losing himself between your thighs as he continues moving his fingers with unwavering determination.

He continues like this for a few minutes, not stopping for a moment, until you feel that you're about to reach climax. You grab his hair with incredible strength, almost burying your fingers in its roots, urging him to continue, feeling like you're about to burst in his mouth. But just as you're on the edge of orgasm, he pulls away from you, leaving a thread of saliva mixed with your wetness as a separation between his mouth and your pussy, leaving you in a state of uncontrollable anticipation and desire.

Eddie, eager to satisfy his burning desire, hastily fumbles with his zipper and unleashes his erect cock, ready for action. Eddie's cock, although of average size, has a peculiarity that sets it apart: a curved shape that gives it a unique and distinctive appearance. Its thickness is notable, and the veins that run along its length add texture to its look. The skin that covers it has a pink tone, with a reddish hue indicating the excitement that engulfs it. A slightly glistening liquid adorns its tip. It is an image that reflects virility and desire, a promise of intense pleasure about to be unleashed.

"How does this look, huh?" he moves it, noticeably sensitive, gently rubbing it against your clit, giving you a mischievous look as if he's playing a game with you. Without warning, after lightly masturbating it, he quickly and decisively inserts it into you, completely surprising you and leaving you breathless. "Mhmmm..." he sighs deeply, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, arching his head backward. From the very first second, he begins to thrust into you with a dizzying rhythm, penetrating you deeply over and over again. You are overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure that engulfs you, unable to articulate a single word as you completely surrender to the wild thrusts of the guy. Each thrust hits your insides with overpowering force, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Despite the initial discomfort from the lack of preparation, you find yourself immersed in a whirlwind of sensations that make you lose track of time and space.

You writhe under him, unable to hold back the moans that escape your lips as you completely surrender to the frenzied pleasure that consumes you. Although it hurts, you can't help but enjoy every thrust, every touch of his skin against yours ignites a burning fire inside you.

He grabs you by the neck with a firm but dominant hand, stopping any sound that could escape your lips. His warm breath brushes against your ear as he whispers with a husky and authoritative voice, "Shut up." The words, loaded with desire and determination, send a shiver down your spine, leaving you breathless and obedient to his command. You are completely surrendered to him, unable to do anything but obey his orders as you let yourself be carried away by the frenzied passion that burns between you. The orgasm that you had almost experienced less than a minute ago begins to resonate through your body again, but the intensity of Eddie's thrusts makes you feel like you're on the verge of a great climax. You are completely overwhelmed by the avalanche of sensations that envelop you, unable to resist the tide of pleasure that drags you into an endless abyss of ecstasy. Your increasingly intense and uncontrolled moans blend with the background music, creating a symphony of pleasure and ecstasy that fills the room. Eddie, releasing his hand from your neck, begins to hit your thigh and butt with a mixture of desire and unbridled passion. As he continues to thrust into you with force, his lascivious words fill the air, whispering in your ear with a deep and seductive voice.

He tells you how much he has wanted to fuck that pussy of yours, expressing his most intimate desires with an exciting crudeness that makes you shiver with pleasure. He calls you a slut with a tone of desire and adoration, celebrating your sexuality and the way you grip his cock with every thrust. Those words, charged with lust and desire, only increase the intensity of the moment, pushing you closer to climax with each word that comes out of his mouth.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, every thrust of Eddie sending waves of pleasure through your body. He perceives it too, thanks to the way your pussy grips his cock, and he lets out a guttural grunt of satisfaction. You're on the edge of the abyss, about to let the ecstasy completely envelop you, while Eddie's lascivious moans and words push you towards the most glorious climax you've ever experienced

You feel the ecstasy completely enveloping you, a overwhelming wave of pleasure that shakes you to your core. Your walls contract tightly around Eddie's cock, squeezing with an intensity that makes him moan with pleasure. "Damn, you're so tight..."

Your body trembles uncontrollably, your eyes rolling back in your head as a guttural groan escapes from your lips, louder and more heartbreaking than ever before.

However, before you can fully recover from your orgasm, Eddie aggressively grabs you by the throat again, his expression a wild mix of concentration, excitement, and a hint of anger. With notable abruptness, he continues fucking with a renewed ferocity, as if taking revenge for something, but this time he has absolute control. The sensation of being taken with such force awakens a wild fire inside you, a overflowing passion that mixes with pain and pleasure in a symphony of indescribable sensations. You are completely immersed in the erotic game between you and Eddie, each thrust taking you further into the abyss of shared desire.

Thegame is now tied, each one taking the lead at different moments. You feel Eddie moaning with an unusual intensity, sensing that he's about to reach climax. You want to warn him not to come inside, but your throat is blocked by Eddie's firm hand, keeping you from articulating any words. A slight shiver runs through his body when he perceives your attempt to communicate your desire, but it's too late.

With a few final shaky thrusts, Eddie gives in to the avalanche of pleasure, releasing his hot and trembling liquid inside you. You accept his release without reserve, watching Eddie's expression as he does so. His face shows an unusual vulnerability, with arched eyebrows and a lost look somewhere in the room. His slightly parted lips release his moans of pleasure, and his hands grip your hips tightly, as if clinging to you for support.

After Eddie releases his liquid inside you, he slowly retreats and lies down by your side. Both of you remain staring at the ceiling, and suddenly, a nervous and uncontrollable laughter overwhelms you. Eddie looks at you strangely and asks what's happening. Between laughs, you respond that you just imagined that all of this was one of his campaigns, a kind of joke or experiment designed to test your limits and reactions. The surprise on Eddie's face turns into a knowing smile when he realizes that you have disarmed the tension of the moment with your humorous comment. Both of you give in to laughter, releasing the accumulated tension and sharing a moment of complicity after the unrestrained passion you just experienced together. It's an unexpected and light ending to an intimate and passionate encounter.

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