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#i hope u are all doing well!!! hopefully i can get back to drawing as usual

syrupgirl · 1 year

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Request:

Could u write a fic ab Sully family x y /n reader? Where she lives with the sully family after her parents died, she gets taken by the colonel in the forest and is set up for bate because he knows she important to the Sully family.

a/n: the way I interpreted this, reader is taken by herself rather than what happens in the film where all of the kids get taken. I did use the rough layout of the scene for inspo but it does diverge from cannon ie Neteyam is with the kids when they get discovered. I hope that’s similar enough to what you mean. also reader is na’vi and around Neteyam’s age :p

Sullys stick together -The Sully family

“Catch me if you can!” Tuk yelled. Her little feet pattering along the branch of an enormous tree, while you and the rest of the Sully children chased her for sport.

She giggled delightedly, dodging out of the way of Lo’ak’s hand.

You really weren’t supposed to be out this far. Too close to the battlefield Jake had said. To close to where the sky people had already begun laying their claim on Pandora. Not if the Na’vi had anything to say about it.

But oh, it was such a beautiful day, almost no clouds in the sky, Kenten floated around you with the unfurled fan necks slowing their descent. Who wouldn’t want to get carried away with the day?

Suddenly, little Tuk ran into the trunk of a tree and startled back, falling on her butt. Kiri rushed forward and kneeled beside her, rubbing her back.

“Oh Tuk, are you ok? Are you hurt?” Kiri asked, ever the nurturer.

Tuk rubbed her nose and sniffed, tiny little tears blooming in her eyes. “Yeah, just got a fright, that’s all.”

Kiri helped the youngest sully stand up and continued to comfort her. Tuk reassured her sister that she was ok and Kiri relented. Tuk then wandered off to continue her little adventure.

“Wait, guys! Look!” Lo’ak whisper shouted.

Everyone looked to the direction he was pointing. Spider’s eyes widened and he even gasped a little.

“Wow, bro. That’s where my dad and your dad fought, right?” He asked Neteyam.

Neteyam didn’t answer right away, looking almost sheepish. “Yeah, bro.”

Lo’ak looked like he could barely keep still, a giddy grin upon his face.

“Well c’mon! Let’s have a look inside!” He was about to spring up when you put a firm hand on his shoulder.

“No way! We have no idea what’s in there, there could be some old tech still active, or…I don’t know, some angry beast!”

Despite not being a blood member of the Sulky family, after Jake and Neytiri took you under their wing and growing up with them for so long cemented your place among them as family. You were as much Neteyam’s sister as Tuktirey was.

Despite not being a blood member of the Sully family, they listened to you and cared about what you had to say, or that’s what you thought.

“That’s why we have our knives, skxawng.” And with that Lo’ak got you to sprint to the abandoned lab. Well, he would’ve had it not been for the tussling of the bushes opposite where you were all crouching.

“Sit down!” Neteyam gritted out, he grabbed his younger brother by the back of his neck and yanked him back down beside him. Lo’ak started to protest, talking about how it was probably some harmless animal. The sound of voices shut him down. Voices speaking in, english.

You were confused. Sky people should not have gotten this far out without drawing attention of the clan. Neteyam motioned for everyone to be still and you all watched on as the voices got closer.

Neteyam turned on his comms and started speaking to Jake. You could guess what he was saying; do not engage, retreat, stay low and out of sight. All very good suggestions in your opinion.

You kept your gaze intently to the direction of the voices, just waiting for them to pop out so you could get a good look at them and hopefully get some answers to your burning questions.

For better or for worse your questions were answered sooner than you thought.

Aside from the speaking english, the only thing that gave them away for being avatar and not Na’vi was the tactical gear. They were fully decked out. A few of them had arms decorated with tattoos and…sunglasses, Jake had called them.

They slowly approached the abandoned lab with guns raised and eyes everywhere. You all ducked down further once you realised you were way out of your league. Unarmed humans you might be able to handle. Armed humans, definitely more difficult but you had done it before, but avatar who were armed to the teeth along with the strength and speed of the na’vi made for a dangerous mix. You all watched as they searched through the building, overturning the insides of it.

“Come on, dad is on his way, he told us to fall back.” Neteyam’s urged all of you, gesturing into the forest behind him.

“What? No! This is our- my chance to prove to dad that I can help! I can be an asset to the people!”

Neteyam and Lo’ak continued to bicker when you noticed Kiri looking around, looking around desperately.

“Kiri?” you asked, “what’s wrong?”

The girl looked almost brought to tears when she looked up to you.

Her voice trembled, “Where is Tuk?”

Oh god.

She had disappeared before Lo’ak had picked up on the lab.

No one had seen her since.

Kiri clasped her hands around her mouth, she looked about as scared as you felt. God, little Tuktirey.

Abruptly, the group of avatars in front of you trained their guns on clump of trees of to your right. You had heard the sound too, a snap of a small branch or twig. Whatever had stepped on it was light.

Light enough to be Tuk.

The hostiles started to walk toward the noise. It’s like you were watching them in slow motion. Off to the side you could see Kiri’s eyes widen, horror flashed across her face. Spider had a similar expression, his eyebrows upturned in the centre. Lo’ak and Neteyam had stopped their fighting and just looked scared out of their own minds. Neteyam for once didn’t have a solution for everything.

So you did the only thing you could think of. A stupid, stupid thing looking back on it, a stupid thing parading itself as bravery. You scrunched your face, said a silent prayer to Eywa to deliver Tuk to safety and to give you strength for whatever was to happen.

You lept out from behind the log and dashed out of cover.

The avatars snapped their attention to you and raised their guns, but you kept charging towards them. Unsheathing the small knife you kept on you at all times, you cried out.

An avatar with short cropped hair on the top of his hair held out his hand and caught you around the neck. He didn’t hold you tight enough to strangle you, but tight enough that you couldn’t escape. He lifted you up into the air like you were fresh prey.

You struggled and snarled, trying to get your knife in any part of him that you could reach.

“Well, well, well, lookie here…” Quaritch chuckled darkly. He motioned for his squad to lowers their guns and the obeyed, observing their colonel with obvious amusement. It made you sick, you probably outwardly grimaced.

“I’ve seen you somewhere before.” He muttered. Quaritch made a show of ‘hmmm’ing and scratching his chin in fake thought. “Ah yes, i’ve seen your runnin’ around with the Sully spawn. You’ve been causin’ a lot of trouble, you and those other brats.”

You pretended not to understand him, opting to keep snapping and thrashing at him. It was not a complete lie; while Jake had taught you some basic english, you could probably only form the sentences of a small human child.

“The thing looks feral…” A teammate muttered from behind the colonel and the squad laughed.

“Don’t be fooled, soldier. These Na’vi can be quite clever when they put their heads together.” The colonel responded.

Thinking of your family behind you, you hoped and prayed that they had retreated back with Tuktirey.

Quaritch lowered you to the ground but before you tried to make a break for it, he wove his fingers through your hair and pulled hard.

You bit your teeth to stifle a scream and reached up to attempt to pry his hand off of your head.

“I know that there’s more of you back there, in the tree line, so you behave and my team will leave them be.” Fear flooded you at that, hearing that this man knew you weren’t alone. With a snap of his fingers he could have you all held hostages. So you stilled. You rested your hands back at your sides and begrudgingly set your gaze on him.

The avatar holding you smiled.

“Children o’ Sully! You listen here,” he spoke in english before switching into what seemed to be pretty broken na’vi, “you tell your father to come here, and this girl will be returned unharmed in exchange for his compliance.”

At least he didn’t know Neteyam had already been in contact with both Jake and Neytiri. If they just pretended to leave, Jake and Neytiri would think of a plan. Like they always do.

The bushes where everyone was hiding rustled. Quaritch tensed and the avatars behind you raised their guns once more, but the bushes stilled, no other came from it.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You hoped that they had gone back home or at least taken Tuk back.

“Alright everyone, I’m guessing we can expect Jake Sully and his mate getting here pretty soon.” He drawled, turning to face his team. “Get ready for an attack. Be on your guard and keep your new eyes and ears sharp.”

Jake and Neytiri quietly dismounted their Ikran and armed themselves. Neytiri looked as if she was shaking with rage, her mouth downturned and her eyes looking for a threat.

“Hey, I’m sure they’re all fine. They’re tough kids, they’re our kids which make them tougher.” Jake attempted a joke but it died out in the silence when Neytiri did not respond.

They hadn’t landed far from where Neteyam told them they were and they were almost silent as they crept forward into the thicket.

A flutter of motion from they’re left has Neytiri’s bow drawn and aimed at the spot.

“Mom! It’s just us! It’s me, Lo’ak!” Lo’ak revealed himself from his hiding spot, arms raised and Neytiri breathed a watery sigh.

She rushed forward, took her baby in her arms, and held him tightly. Lo’ak wrapped his arms around her neck and squeezed. From behind him, Neteyam and spider emerged too, looking a little more embarrassed. Jake looked at his eldest and frowned.

“Where are your sisters?” He asked. Neytiri finally set Lo’ak down and gasped a little, noticing the absence of three of the Sully children.

“Kiri took Tuktirey back home and..” Neteyam looked ashamed, “yn was taken.”

His mother squeezed her eyes closed. Even if you weren’t born of her, you were her daughter. The idea of you being taken, as bait no less, had her heart in her stomach and her chest alight with anger.

Jake sighed and his face turned stony. “You all stay here, stay hidden, while we clean up your mess.” He whispered. The boys wilted and sunk back.

Your legs were starting to ache with how long you had been standing and your scalp with how hard the grip he had on your hair.

The man who had been holding you earlier passed you off to another one of his teammates, who seemed to take liberties in yanking your hair every once and a while.

The once clear sky had filled with clouds and rain trickled down through the canopy above you. No one had spoken in a long time, like everyone was holding their breath.

Suddenly, your ear twitched and you flicked your eyes to where you had heard…something. It could just be the sounds of the forest, an animal eating a plant or a ripe piece of fruit hitting the earth, but this sound sounded out of place, made my something not of the forest.

You caught a glimpse of something blue ducking behind the trunk of a wide tree. They had been holding what looked like a bow. Neytiri!

You shut your eyes and thanked Eywa for delivering you a mother as magnificent and brave as her.

Everything was still for a while and you wondered why Neytiri hadn’t taken a shot. Had she left? In an attempt to look like you were getting drowsy, you slumped a back into the avatar holding you. Your head hit his chin as you did so. He shoved you forward again, tugging your hair as he did so.

That’s why she hadn’t taken a shot, there was too much of a risk of hitting you. You looked up to where you had seen her before and caught her eyes. She had been staring at you intently the whole time, waiting for an opening.

So you gave her one.

You hoped she understood what you tried to say in a single look.

Saying another silent prayer to Eywa, you grabbed the arm that wasn’t gripping your hair, brought it up to your mouth, and bit down as hard as you could.

The man screamed, “You little bitch!”

Thankfully, on instinct he let go of your head and you had just enough time to duck out of the way before an arrow hit him straight between the eyes.

Twigs and leaves crunched beneath your feet and you made a break into the forest. You didn’t dare look back behind you. Gunshots rang through the air, some even whizzed past you.

Just as you jumped over the fallen trunk of a tree, an arm caught you from the side. You fought against it, landing a blow against whoever’s face had snatched you.

They groaned and let you go.

“Be calm! It’s just me!�� Spider said as he held his now bloody nose.

You gasped and reached out to touch his face. “Oh Spider, I’m so sorry. You scared me!”

He shook his head a little before standing up, offering you a hand. “It’s fine, let’s go. Lo’ak and Neteyam already left.”

You took his hand and the two of you ran through the forest together. Never daring to look back.

When Jake and Neytiri returned, you knew you were all in for it.

You and your siblings listened outside of their tent, listening to them argue. You held Tuk to you, you didn’t want her to hear what they were saying but she insisted, so all you could do was let her know she wasn’t alone.

Jake stormed out of the tent and you all pretended to be looking at anything else. Smooth.

“yn, get over here.” He ordered. Lo’ak patted you on the back and walked away with the others.

“That stunt you pulled!? That’s not on, okay? It was stupi-!”

You interrupted him, “What I did was stupid, but I don’t regret it. If I hadn’t, Tuk would have been in my position and I couldn’t stand by and watch that happen, sir.” Jake was silent at that. The same stern look painted across his face and his eye twitched.

You stood your ground.

He stood his. For a while.

Until he broke.

The hard look he had softened and he just looked like a tired dad. You realised how stressed he must be, knowing that an old enemy was back and would go through his family to get him. He though he had lost Neteyam earlier this week, and now his daughter? You could have sympathy for him.

You approached him and wrapped your arms around his broad chest. “I’m sorry, dad. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

It felt as if his chest buckled at that and he returned your hug.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again. Alright, soldier?”

You smiled up at him and gave him a. mock salute.

“Yes, sir.”

#i can’t tell if i over wrote #sully family #avatar x reader #sullys x reader #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader #neteyam x reader #lo’ak x reader #kiri x reader #spider x reader #avatar 2 #avatar way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar imagine #sully family imagine

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headkiss · 1 year

Text

give you the moon

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: had you known getting your first tattoo would end up with you being in love with eddie munson, you might have gotten it a lot sooner.

word count: 17.8k

warnings: smut, probably inaccurate descriptions of tattooing processes (i tried my best!), strangers to friends to lovers, fluff

a/n: this one took forever but it’s finally done!!!! i’m sorry for the wait but hopefully u guys like it enough to forgive me :D

༄

You’ve always wanted a tattoo, and you figured now was as good a time as ever. Having just moved to Indianapolis, all by yourself, one change could lead to another.

New city, new apartment, new tattoo.

It may be irresponsible of you, but you settled for the first shop you found, the one closest to where you lived. A short walk away, harder to back out of. You knew you wouldn’t regret getting it, you just had to force yourself to sit through it, to commit.

The wind whips at your cheeks as you make your way to your consultation. You pull your sleeves over your hands and hope that it’ll be warm enough.

Once you’ve made it, the bell above the door rings to signify your entrance. A girl with brown curly hair sits at the front desk, a warm smile on her face. The place has dark floors, walls covered with different sketches that distract you for a moment.

“Hi! How can I help you?” The girl says, drawing your attention back to her. You walk the few steps up to the front desk.

“Hi, um, I’m here for a consultation,” you give her your name and the time of the appointment. “With Eddie.”

She shuffles about for a few seconds before finding what she was looking for, “yep, perfect. I’ll let him know you’re here. I’m Nancy, by the way.”

“Thanks, Nancy.”

She goes to the saloon type doors next to the desk, you watch them swing back and forth. You’re eventually drawn back to the art on the walls, eyes scanning the different styles and images. Your hands fidget with the ends of your sleeves.

A picture of the staff steals your attention next, Nancy standing next to a girl with shorter hair, their hands interlocked. Then, there’s a boy with brown hair and a kind smile. The one who really keeps you looking is the boy with long dark hair, his tattoos the most prominent.

A second later, that same boy is walking through the doors and calling your name.

“Oh, hi. That’s me,” you reply. Then wince at your awkwardness.

“Hi, I’m Eddie,” he gives you a close-mouthed smile, barely there. He’s even prettier in person than he is in that photo. “Follow me.”

He seems distant, sort of cold and you’re not quite sure what to do with it. Your nerves pick up even more.

He ushers you through the saloon doors, then through a room with three tattoo beds that’s filled with the buzzing of the machines and the other people from the picture and their clients. You end up in an office type room, certificates hang on the wall behind the desk.

Eddie takes a seat behind the desk that’s presumably his, papers scattered about and a cup overflowing with pens and pencils sitting atop of it. You stand by the door, shifting on your feet.

“You can have a seat,” he offers, gesturing to the chair facing him. He waits until you’re settled to continue. “So, is this your first tattoo?”

“Yes,” you feel nervous and you’re not sure if it’s the prospect of committing to the tattoo or if it’s the way Eddie’s gaze doesn’t move away from you.

“Well, I’m honored to be your first,” he winks, your heart stumbling at the innuendo. “So, what are we thinking?”

“The moon, on the back of my shoulder,” you pause, but he nods for you to keep going, to give more detail. “I wanted it to be a gibbous moon, almost full but not quite.”

“Alright. Got an idea for size?”

“Uh, kinda small. I think?” You huff, frustrated with your lack of an answer, “sorry I’m not so prepared.”

You stuff your hands under your thighs so that they’ll stop twisting in your lap. You cross your ankles and look down, slightly embarrassed at the way you’re acting in front of him. You were meant to grow in the city, to be better, but so far, not much has changed.

You don’t have friends, your job is slow, and you’re terrible with new people.

“��S fine,” you think he’s being reassuring. “How’s this sound: we can try some circle stencils on for size now, then we’ll know for your appointment.”

“Okay. Thank you, Eddie.”

“‘Course. I’ll be right back.”

His exit gives you a couple of minutes to try and sort yourself out, to calm down. You want to be able to do this without the stumbles or hiccups that you’re so used to. You blow out a breath and wait for him to come back.

The way he carries himself confuses you, his almost detached nature making you overthink way too much. Although, he’s not being cruel or unkind, he’s just… you’re not sure if there’s a word to describe it.

He comes back with a couple of stencils, some sort of solution, a disposable razor, and paper towels.

“You’re gonna have to take your sweater off,” he says, setting everything down on the desk. When you don’t move to do so right away, he stares at you, waiting.

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

You slip off your sweater, your tank top underneath riding up ever so slightly with the movement. You pull it back down and set your discarded sweater on the chair behind you.

“Which shoulder?” He asks, putting on a pair of medical gloves and grabbing the razor.

“Here,” you slip the straps of both your shirt and your bra off the shoulder you choose, turning in the seat to face away from him so he’s able to do what he needs to.

He brushes your hair towards the front of your shoulder, clearing the spot he needs. He cleans off the area, then shaves it to make sure the stencil will stick, all in silence. He’s quick to apply it, his hands gentle and his breath hitting your skin in a way that has you shifting.

“Don’t move,” he chides quietly.

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything more until he’s done, “okay. Have a look.”

There’s a mirror on one of the walls, and you walk over to get a good look at the size of the circle. You know it’s only the first one, but you think it’s perfect. It looks right and you’re excited to see it when it’s actually the design you want.

“I want this size,” you say, turning to face him.

“Are you sure? It’s only the first one.”

“I know, but it’s good. I like it.”

“I don’t want you changing your mind, okay?”

“I won’t! I’m sure, promise.”

He sighs, then wipes the stencil away and takes off the gloves with a snap. He takes his seat again as you put your sweater back on, goosebumps prickling your skin.

“When did you wanna book it for?” He asks.

“Whenever you’re free is fine, I’m not picky.” You don’t have anywhere else to be, really.

“You’re not the best at answering questions, huh?”

You think he’s trying to make a joke but all you manage to say is, “no, sorry.”

“You apologize a lot. You don’t have to,” he grabs something that looks like a planner then says, “I have a spot next week, if that works.”

Eddie tells you the specific day and time, and you tell him that it works. He hands you some papers to sign and read and bring back with you for next time. “Nancy will sort out payment and stuff at the desk. That’s it for today.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you make your way back to the front quickly, eager to go home and try and forget the entire interaction. He certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, and you didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He was quiet, reserved, and hard to read, but he was good, you knew from the drawings in his office. He was also intriguing; a puzzle you wanted to solve.

You sort out everything with Nancy, who makes you feel a ton better about your consultation. “You look far too worried,” she says.

“I just don’t think he likes me very much.”

“No, trust me, that’s just Eddie. He’ll warm up to you, I’m sure.”

“I hope so. Anyway, thanks, Nancy.”

“See you,” she says as you walk out the door.

That night, you cuddle up and fall asleep thinking about Eddie and his demeanor, his warm hands on your skin.

He couldn’t get you out of his head, and that rarely happened to Eddie. He was used to meaningless things and he can’t remember the last time he felt anything for someone.

Not that he felt anything for you. You’d only met once.

Eddie spent the night after your consultation drawing way too many moons in his sketchbook, staining his hands with ink and pencil.

It’s two days later when you hear from Eddie again.

Your phone rings just as you’re about to shower before bed, the sun long gone though the city stays bright with lights. You hug your robe tighter around yourself and walk to where the phone hangs on the wall.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” an utterance of your name, a tone you recognize. “It’s Eddie… from Corroded Coffin Tattoos.”

“Of course! Hi, Eddie. Was there something wrong?”

“Oh, no. No,” he pauses, you hear him shuffling around on the other line. “I had a cancellation tomorrow and thought you might want the spot?”

You hate that the fact that he thought of you makes your stomach whirl. Of course, he could’ve called countless clients before you, but you like the idea that he dialed your number first better. You twist the phone cord in your fingers.

“That would be great. Thank you so much for thinking of me.”

If only you knew, he thinks. If only you knew how much he really did think of you—it was almost infuriating. How one person could have such an effect on him when he really doesn’t know them at all. He knows that you’re pretty, and you say ‘sorry’ far too much, and you smell really good, that’s all.

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay, see you-”

He hangs up before you can finish. You stare at the phone for a second after putting it back, wondering if that whole exchange truly happened, if you just dreamt up the whole thing. You pinch yourself until it hurts. You’re definitely awake.

You replay the conversation over and over, wondering why he hung up so abruptly, worrying about how you’re going to act tomorrow.

Eddie called you from his office, even though it was well past closing for the shop. He really needs to get himself together. He can’t be thinking so much about his client. About anyone, really. He can’t.

His head is resting in his arms when the door to his office opens. There’s only one person that never knocks and that’s Steve. He looks up and sees him leaning against the doorframe.

“Why are you still here, Steve?”

“Why are you still here?” He retorts.

“Got some stuff to do,” is all Eddie says.

“Your mood doesn’t have anything to do with the girl you just talked to on the phone, does it?”

Of all the people he could have been friends with, Steve was the most unlikely for Eddie, and yet here they are. Coworkers, and close friends. It’s almost annoying how quickly he can tell what exactly the issue is.

“I dunno. She won’t get out of my head,” Eddie shrugs, glancing down at the sketchbook he has opened on his desk, the one filled with drawings of your tattoo. “It’s annoying.”

“That’s a lot of moons, man,” Steve says as he walks closer.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying. Maybe this is a good thing. I haven’t seen you with a girlfriend, like, ever.”

“Who said anything about a girlfriend?”

No, if anything, Eddie’s eager to get your appointment over with, to get you out of his head for good.

“Yeah, okay. Can't wait to say ‘I told you so.’ You know it won’t hurt to open up a little, man.”

Steve means well, Eddie knows he does, but the thing is it does hurt him. Or, it used to. He was used to being judged, someone the town saw as a character rather than a human. The best thing he ever did was move away, but that doesn’t mean he left the hurt behind, too.

You show up about fifteen minutes early for the appointment. You gave yourself far too much time, you think, because now you just have to sit and wait and the anticipation is making you more nervous the longer it goes.

The front desk was being manned by a different person today, “hi! I’m Robin, how are you?”

She talks quickly and with enthusiasm, like every word is exciting and important. You like her already.

“Hi, I’m good, thanks. I have an appointment with Eddie,” she nods in confirmation, looking down at the schedule in front of her. “I’m a little early though so… no rush.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, gives us more time to sort out the paperwork and stuff. He’s just finishing up with someone else so it won’t be too long.” She smiles at you.

“Here, I have these from my consultation,” you hand her the pages Eddie had given you to sign. You chew at the inside of your cheek as she reads over them hoping you filled everything out correctly.

“That’s great! I’ll just go tell him you’re here,” she goes through the familiar saloon doors, the buzzing of tattoo guns and light conversations slipping through.

When she comes back she informs you that he’s only going to be a couple more minutes, and instead of telling you to go take a seat, she asks, “first tattoo?”

“Yeah, I’m nervous. Mostly excited,” you give her a small smile, one that makes hers widen.

“Don’t worry! I had to take like five breaks for my first one and now here I am.” It’s then that you finally notice the ink peeking from her long-sleeve shirt, at her wrists, and on one side of her neck. “Eddie’s great, and I’m sure you’ve got great pain tolerance—I can sense it.”

You laugh, she’s somehow managed to make you feel much better in the short time you’ve been talking to her. Eddie walks out, greeted by the sound of your laughter and he almost stops in his tracks. Almost.

“Robin, stop chatting up my clients,” he says.

“I’m just being friendly, Eddie! You should try it out,” she replies.

You can tell it’s in good nature, because he ruffles her hair as he passes and leaves it there. From what you’ve seen so far, the workers here are close; a tight-knit group of people and you admire that friendship, long for it.

“Follow me,” he says. It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you because of your distraction, but when you look up you find him staring at you, waiting.

“Okay,” you trail behind him as he leads you to the bed furthest from the doors, the one tucked away in the back of the room.

“You eat and drink water before coming? I don’t want you passing out on me.”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m good.”

He looks at you like he’s unsure, but moves along anyway. Eddie’s only worried because you’re his client and he has to, no other reason. He can’t be worrying because he thinks you’re pretty and sweet and far too kind. There’s absolutely no way.

“So, I did a couple sketches,” a couple is an understatement. “Have a look and let me know which one you wanna go with.”

You take a look at the five he’s laid out, all as you asked. Gibbous moons, both waxing and waning, some shaded more than others, some simple outlines. The one that catches your eye is a happy medium, fine lines with dotting for shading. It’s beautiful, exactly what you envisioned.

“This one. It’s really good.”

He tips his head down, “thanks. I’ll go get my stuff and we’ll get started.”

He’s not gone for very long, though it’s enough time for you to watch one of the artists at work, the boy with the brown hair. You watched the way he moved the needle, only looking away when Eddie came back and grabbed your attention.

“Gonna do the stencil like before, so you’ll need to move your shirt,” he says, looking down at his station and getting everything ready.

“Would it be easier if I just, uh, take it off?”

That makes his hands hover, paused in his task. He tries to shake it off; he’s seen a ton of people shirtless at the job and he’s never been affected by that, so why should he be now?

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Okay,” you decide it must be easier without your shirt—less things in the way—so you take it off and try not to worry about it.

Eddie applies the stencil just as he did a couple days ago. Gentle, precise hands that you’ll feel the ghost of for hours after your appointment, you’re sure. His head bent close as he pushes the edges down so you can feel him breathing, catch his scent for a moment.

When he’s done, he holds up a wide handheld mirror for you to get a look at it without having to walk all the way to the mirror on the opposite side of the room.

Again, you’re impressed by his drawing, and seeing it on your skin makes you realize that you’ll carry a part of Eddie forever after this. His linework, his trace.

“So,” he prompts you to speak as your thoughts have taken you away, “what do you think?”

“It’s great. Really.”

“You’re sure that’s where you want it?”

He double checks every single detail. That you’ve picked the one you want, that it’s the right size, that you really want to do this. He does so until you’re laying on your stomach on the bed, positioned so he can work comfortably at your side.

“Okay, I’m gonna do a small line, just so you see how it feels,” he warns you, and you tense in anticipation. “Relax.”

“Sorry. ‘M just nervous.”

“You’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

He manages to ease you with very few words.

The sound of the tattoo gun sounds louder when it’s so close, more daunting, but you’re eager to get started only to get rid of the anticipation. He draws a short line after giving you a quiet warning of, “here we go.”

It’s not nearly as bad as you’d expected. A scratch, a small sting, but it’s manageable.

“You okay?” He checks.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad.”

“Told you you’d be fine,” he says so softly you almost miss it.

Your head is turned to the side where he sits, and you can see him in your peripheral vision as he works. His legs clad in dark, ripped denim, the tattoos peeking through. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to show his forearms. You shut your eyes and try to stop staring.

He works quietly, though you can sometimes hear him humming along to whatever song is playing. You don’t try to make conversation because you don’t want to be a distraction.

It doesn’t take too long before he gets to the shading, telling you, “some people find this part a bit more painful. So you know.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He’s right, it is more painful and you find it harder to keep yourself occupied by looking around. You find it harder to ignore the feeling of the needle.

Eddie notices. He doesn’t know how, but he notices. Maybe it’s the way your eyes are squeezed shut at certain points, the hand of the arm furthest from him bunched in a fist. He decides he wants to ease the process for you in any way he can.

“So, why the moon?” He asks.

“Huh?”

“Why’d you choose the moon?”

“Oh, sorry,” you don’t see him shake his head at your unnecessary apology. “I’ve always loved it, how it has a cycle. The way it looks in the sky. Just, everything. Looking at it was a way of reminding myself I’m alive, kind of. ‘Cause I can still see it. I guess I chose this one to remind myself that even if it’s not whole now, it will be eventually.”

He wants to pick at your brain more, because he thinks it must be a beautiful place to be able to describe things the way you just did. You talk like it means a lot to you and the fact that you shared it with him so openly when you’ve been so quiet isn’t lost on him.

“That’s really…wow.”

“Sorry. I kinda rambled there.”

“No, no. I’ve just never looked at it that way.”

He asks you more questions after that, trying his best to keep your mind off of the needle and on the conversation. He asks how long you’ve been in the city, then, why you moved, and you give him honest answers for all of it.

Not long at all. Because I needed to get out, to be somewhere nobody knows me.

That made him think of Hawkins, of every person there who called him a freak, who looked at him like one. He needed to get out, too.

“Alright, you’re all done, just gotta wrap it up for you,” he says, putting the gun down and wiping over your skin one more time. “Do you wanna have a look first?”

“Please,” you nod.

He likes the way the word sounds coming out of your mouth—he gives himself a mental slap for that.

You sit up and he holds the mirror just as he did before. You can't help but gasp when you see it, exactly what you pictured. He did such a good job that you resist the urge to hug him for it.

“Eddie, it’s beautiful.”

So are you, he thinks.

“I’m glad you like it,” is what he says.

“I love it. Seriously, thank you.”

“It’s my job. Let me wrap it and then you’re good to go.”

He does, carefully and with the same gentle hands that have become far too familiar by now. When he’s done, he takes off his gloves with a snap, and hands you a pamphlet and some cleaning products to use at home.

“Thanks again, Eddie. You’re really good,” you say, putting your shirt back on.

“No problem,” he flashes you a small smile, one you’ll hold onto. “Um, here’s the card for the shop. You know, in case you need anything. Just ask for me, okay?”

“I will, thank you,” you take the card from him, your fingers brush his as you do. The name of the shop is written on it in bold, sharp letters: Corroded Coffin Tattoos. Underneath it, the phone number.

You’re led back through the saloon doors and met with both Robin and Nancy by the desk. They’re talking with wide smiles and rosy cheeks, their hands tangled loosely.

“I don’t pay you two to flirt,” Eddie says, retreating back where the two of you just came from.

Robin slips away, presumably done with her shift at the desk now that Nancy’s back. She gave you a kind goodbye, and makes sure that you promise if you ever want another tattoo to go back there.

“How was it?” Nancy asks you.

“Good! I’m really happy with it.”

“That’s what we like to hear! Eddie’s great. He gave me my first tattoo, too. Robin was mad for ages and then made sure she gave me the next one,” she grins. “Anyway, let’s get you taken care of.”

You pay for the tattoo, and then, you’re off.

It’s times like now that you wish you had someone to talk to, because you’re having way too many thoughts about your tattoo artist that you might never see again and you need to know if you’re reading into things too much. You need to know if his hands linger longer than they need to on other clients, if you imagined the way his eyes stayed on you, too.

You settle for overthinking on your walk home instead.

You didn’t think you’d end up using the card Eddie gave you. Not unless you were calling to book another tattoo, but here you were, leaning on the wall by your phone and dialing the number.

It was just a quick question, really, but you were still nervous. You’d only gotten the tattoo yesterday and already you were calling.

You’d realized when reading the aftercare instructions he gave you, that you didn’t have any unscented, gentle lotion like it called for, and you wanted to know if he had any suggestions for what works best. You tried going to the pharmacy, but the options were overwhelming.

You ended up buying something anyway because of how long you spent there. A useless magazine that was the closest thing to you when you noticed how some of the employees were looking at you. Some girl reading way too many lotion labels.

Yeah, definitely embarrassing, and definitely something you won’t let yourself live down.

The phone doesn’t ring for long before someone picks up, “Corroded Coffin Tattoos, Nancy speaking.”

“Hi Nancy,” you tell her your name.

“Hey! How can I help you?”

“Um, Eddie told me to call and ask for him if I had any questions,” you explain. “I was wondering if he’s available for a minute?”

“He did?” She sounds surprised.

“Um. Yeah.”

“Huh. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead. I’ll put you on hold and let him know, okay?”

“‘Kay. Thanks, Nancy.”

Desperately, you try not to overthink what she said. That he doesn’t usually get his clients to talk to him for things as minor as this. Why would he want you to, then? You don’t know why every little thing he does sends your mind into a whirlwind of ‘why’s and ‘what does this mean’s.

It’s maybe two minutes—silence filled by your thoughts—before the phone is picked up again.

“Hello?”

You can tell that it’s Eddie.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you but I just had a quick question for you.”

Eddie knows it’s you; he’s not expecting a call from anyone else. Not that he was expecting yours, it’s just that you’re the only client he’s even told to ask for him. He tries to cover that up by saying, “who’s this?”

“Oh, guess I should’ve said. Sorry,” you remind him of your name, as if he could forget it.

“Don’t be sorry. What’s your question?”

He’s quick to get to the point, and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s eager to help, or if it’s that he’s eager to get the conversation over with. Nancy’s words replay in your head. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead.

“I noticed that for aftercare, it says to use gentle lotion,” he hums along, urging you to continue. “I wasn’t sure what exactly that meant and I even went to the pharmacy but I didn’t know which one was good-”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off. “I’ve got some here at the shop. Do you have time today to come pick it up?”

“Yeah! Yes, that’s great. Thanks so much, I promise I’ll get out of your hair after this.”

He doesn’t like the way that sits with him. He doesn’t want you out of his hair. He wants to see you again, he’s realized, and it’s almost too much for him to handle. The way he feels about you is brand new for him—never felt before. He wants to know everything about you.

“‘Course. See you soon, then.”

“Bye, Eddie.”

He hangs up.

You leave a bit after that. Not too soon, because you didn’t want to make it seem like you didn’t have other things to do, even though you didn’t. You’ve memorized the walk to the store at this point, and it doesn’t take you long to get there. You’re greeted by Nancy once again, only in person this time.

“Welcome back,” she says.

“Hi,” you smile at her, you hope it doesn’t look like a nervous grimace. “Um, Eddie told me to come here to pick something up.”

“Right, okay,” she stands, heading in the direction of his office, pausing to say, “he must really like you.”

Great. Some more material for you to analyze about Eddie and how he acts with you. It’s odd to have someone on your mind so constantly, to try and make sense of it. He has something about him that pulls you in, and you’re not sure how, or why, but you let yourself be pulled.

His hair is tied in a low bun when you see him, his bangs and stray strands of hair make it look messy, like he hasn’t had the time to redo it. And yet, he had the time to speak to you on the phone and now.

“Moon girl,” he says, lips turned up just enough to be noticeable.

“Eddie, hi,” your hands twist themselves into the sleeves of your knitted sweater. “Thank you for taking time for me, I know it was a dumb question.”

“It wasn’t. I’m glad you care enough to make sure you’re using the right things,” he says. He holds out the lotion, “speaking of.”

“Perfect. How much do I owe?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He probably shouldn’t make a habit of giving things away for free to girls he thinks are pretty and that confuse him way too much. For you, though, he’ll make an exception. It’s not like anybody else is driving him nuts like you are, anyway.

“No, you’ve done so much already. Please let me pay.”

“It’s fine, I promise that one bottle of lotion won’t hurt me.” But this possibly being the last time I see you might, he thinks.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” he confirms. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Bye, Eddie. Thank you.”

“Bye, moon girl.”

You look down at your feet as he walks away, letting your hair curtain your face. You really shouldn’t be feeling so giddy because of a fucking bottle of lotion and a new nickname, but you are.

“Holy shit,” Robin’s voice comes from the front desk. You hadn’t noticed, but she must’ve walked out at some point during your quick interaction with Eddie.

You curse yourself and try to hide the smile that threatens to spread across your face. “Hey, Robin.”

“Well hello,” she’s looking at you like she knows something you don’t, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I don’t know how you did it but he’s never acted like that with any client. Like, ever.”

You don’t say anything, biting the inside of your lip to distract from the butterflies in your stomach.

“And, I’m so glad you’re here,” she changes the subject, thankfully. “Because Eddie mentioned you’re new to the city and god knows I could use friends who don’t work here and I wanted to know if you wanted to come for drinks sometime?”

Eddie spoke about you? Robin wants to be your friend? You can’t wrap your head around either of those things. It’s been so long since you’ve hung out with someone who wasn’t family. And even then, it was tiring, not fun.

You realize she’s still waiting for an answer when she clears her throat.

“Sorry, um. Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Yay!” She cheers. “What’s your number? I’ll call you next time there’s plans.”

You write it down on a scrap piece of paper for her, and she beams at you when she takes it.

“Eddie‘s gonna be thanking me for this one later,” she teases. “I think we’ll be great friends.”

You look at her smile, at her crooked tie that rests atop an oversized button up. You think she might be right about that.

As soon as you leave Robin and Nancy go to Eddie’s office. An intervention of sorts. They walk in without knocking (the door was open anyway) and stand in front of him with some look.

He’s pretty sure he knows why they’re both staring at him with knowing smiles, but he tries to ignore them and busy himself with some sketches.

Robin’s not having it, so she sits in the chair across from Eddie, kicking her feet up onto his desk.

“What do you want?” He sighs.

“Um, hello? Are we not gonna pretend that you weren’t flirting with her in your own, weird, Eddie way?” Robin starts.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come on,” Nancy joins the conversation, on Robin’s side as always. “You’ve never told a client to ask for you, or given them free stuff.”

“Yeah! And, you were all ‘see you around, moon girl, hey let me stare at you and then not do anything about it,’” Robin lowers her voice, imitating him very inaccurately.

“I don’t know. She was nice, that’s all.”

“Nice enough to break your little rule of being mister nonchalant. I think you like her,” she’s right, but Eddie doesn’t even want to admit that to himself, let alone his friends.

He doesn’t say anything, shifting in his seat. He knows they both mean well, but he doesn’t know what to think and an ambush isn’t necessarily helping that. The pit in his stomach he’s had since he realized he might never see you again hasn't lessened, and the memory of your perfume or the feeling of your skin hasn’t faded.

So, maybe you did have an effect on him, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter in the first place because he wouldn’t let it.

“Look, Eddie, we’re not trying to make you admit anything,” Nancy says, “we just noticed that you acted differently with her. Steve did, too, I’m sure. And it was a good different. You seemed less guarded, I guess.”

“What she said!” Robin adds.

“Yeah, thanks guys, but it’s nothing, okay?”

They share a look, one that Eddie doesn’t understand but he’s gotten used to their silent communications over time. He scratches at the back of his neck, nervous about what they’re thinking.

“Anyway, I got her number,” Robin says, holding the small paper you wrote on for Eddie to see.

He grabs it, staring at your handwriting and the small heart you added next to your name. He fights a smile at the sight of it, cute and lopsided and though he doesn’t know you well, it’s very you.

He clears his throat, handing the paper back. “I’ve got her number on file already.”

“It’s not for you! It’s for me and Nance. We’re gonna be friends,” she grins, proud.

“We’re probably gonna invite her next time we go out, and wanted you to know. Just in case you care,” Nancy says, explaining.

Just in case you care.

He does care, he thinks. He cares way too much for someone he’s met three times and knows very little about. He knows you’re pretty, you apologize a ton, you fidget with your hands when you’re nervous, and you like the moon.

He knows that he cares what you think about him, and that when you called the tattoo he gave you beautiful, it meant more to him than most compliments do. ‘Cause it was you who said it. It’s too much for him.

Maybe he’ll skip out on the next outing.

“That’s nice,” he settles for.

“She’s new to the city and she’s cool. Don’t you think, Eddie?” Robin asks.

He swipes her boot-clad feet from his desk in response.

“We just don’t want you to hold yourself back, that’s all. You never go on dates or anything, even though you’ve had many chances,” Nancy says, softer now that she sees Eddie’s mind is full.

“Thanks for caring, you guys, seriously. But I’m fine. I like being single.”

“So, just be friends with her, then,” Robin suggests.

Her and Nancy leave him alone after that, his mind a bigger mess than before and it’s completely surrounding you. He doesn’t understand how someone could make him rethink everything like he is.

I like being single, he’d said.

And yet, when he imagines going on a date with you, giving you flowers, complimenting your dress or your hair, he’s not sure how true that statement is.

Your days drag by. You work in a small café, and whenever you’re not there, you’re either wasting away hours in your apartment or taking aimless walks. It’s a never-ending cycle, a carousel spinning round and round.

The only eventful thing that happened to you (other than your new tattoo) was accidentally spilling coffee all over yourself at work and having to stick out the rest of your shift in wet clothes. Not necessarily something you want to remember.

You’re beginning to lose hope that Robin will ever use your number.

It shocks you when your phone finally rings. You try to convince yourself it’s telemarketers, a wrong number, anything not to get your hopes up. Lucky for you, it actually is Robin.

“Hello?” Is your automatic word when you pick up.

“Hi! Listen, I’m so sorry it took so long to call,” she doesn’t have to say it to know it’s her. Robin has a very distinct way of speaking; rushed and animated. “So, I actually lost the paper. Silly me! But, then I found it and I had to convince the others to want to go out. Anyway, you wanna come?”

“Hi, Robin. That’s okay,” you find yourself smiling. Your first real one in a while. “When?”

“Oh! I forgot to say. Tonight?”

“I can do that,” you try to sound excited, you hope she can tell.

“Perfect! Do you have a pen and paper? I’ll tell you the place.”

You reach for your notepad and pen and do your best not to drop the phone in the process. Somehow, you manage.

“Yep, ready.”

She rambles off an address, a meeting time, and then, “shit. Boss is coming, better act like I’m working. Bye!”

She hangs up, and you know who she means when she says ‘boss.’

You’ve been trying your best not to think of Eddie, but it’s easier said than done. You constantly think you see him in crowds that pass by. A head of long, curly hair here, a worn leather jacket there. It’s confusing and almost embarrassing.

This boy who you barely know, taking up so much space in your life.

You’re reminded that you’ll most likely be seeing him tonight, as long as you’re right in assuming that by ‘the others,’ Robin meant her coworkers. The thought makes you nervous, makes your stomach do things you aren’t used to.

Despite the time you had between the phone call and when you had to leave, you’re in a hurry to get ready. Picking your outfit was the hardest part, because you’d never been to the place before. You decided on a dress that was simple enough, a denim jacket that you’d probably end up taking off (you get warm when you drink), and your trusty Doc Martens.

Your makeup is a little messy, but you don’t have enough time to fix it so you act like the smudged eyeliner was purposefully done. Your hair was left down.

Walking through the doors of the bar, you’re a couple minutes late and a little out of breath from your rushing. You look around in search of a familiar face when waving catches your eye.

It’s Robin, who’s waving the most obviously, her arm swinging back and forth until Nancy pulls it down and says something to her. Probably telling her you’ve seen them and she can stop. It’s sweet.

You make your way through the crowd towards the booth they’d secured. The boy, who’s introduced to you as Steve, is sitting in the corner on one side, Robin and Nancy on the other. Eddie’s absence is noted, and you guess you must’ve looked confused because Robin spoke up and said, “he’s just in the bathroom.”

She beckons you to sit with her and Nancy, and you fall into conversation easily. Even Steve is easy to talk to and you’ve only just learned his name. Sometimes you worry you’re intruding in their group, an outsider. In a way, you are, because you don’t work with them nor have you been friends with any of them for a long time, but they have yet to make you feel that way.

It’s a far cry from the friends (or lack thereof) you had back home, in the best way possible.

When Eddie comes back, the first thing he sees is you. He’s shocked. Not because you’re there—he was well aware of you being invited—but because you look like you belong with his friends. You fit right in, and you aren’t even trying. Then, he notices your dress and he wishes he could ignore the feeling he gets.

He’s painfully aware of how pretty you are, and when you look over, as if feeling his eyes on you, you give him a small smile and wave. He walks over and slides into the booth next to Steve as casually as possible.

“You look nice,” he says. It’s the best he can come up with.

“Thank you.”

The two of you are too busy looking at each other and trying to figure out what to say when the others share some kind of look. Knowing.

Your nerves pickup when Eddie’s around and you scold yourself for it. You have no business feeling anything towards him, and yet, his very simple compliment will be the root of your daydreams for days to come.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you think you need one. “What’s everyone else want?”

“I’ll help you bring them,” Robin says.

You both stand, and everyone tells you what they want. You make your way to the bar and wait your turn. The feelings you have towards Eddie are confusing, and you’re not exactly sure what they even are. Intrigue, attraction, tension. Whatever it is, it’s unfamiliar.

Robin leans on the bar beside you, noticing you looking towards Eddie before even you do. When you pry your eyes away, she’s smirking at you.

“He likes you, you know?”

“Who, Eddie?” You ask even though you know that’s who she’s talking about. “No, he doesn’t. I actually think he dislikes me.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding. I’ve never seen him act like he does around you, and I’ve known him a really long time. Seriously.”

“He’s just being nice,” that’s all it is, you’re convincing her as well as yourself.

“Please. I know he’s hard to read and seems kind of closed-off, but he’s warmer towards you than most people. He barely even talks to clients, usually.”

Everything she’s saying, you can tell she thinks is true, but if you let yourself think it, too, you’d be absolutely fucked. Your mind would go wild with scenarios and imagining what could happen. You’re doing enough of that as is.

“I don’t know, Robin.”

“You’ll see, trust me.”

Unbeknownst to you, a very similar conversation is happening back at the table. Steve and Nancy are trying to knock some sense into Eddie, to get him to realize it’s okay to let someone else in. He denies it all just as you did, his head a mess.

He realizes that you’re not his client anymore, you’re here as a possible friend, and it scares him. There’s no guise to hide under with his urge to care for you.

When you and Robin return with the drinks, you’re the one who hands Eddie his, and when his fingers brush against yours, just barely, he feels them tingle even after the contact ends.

You loosen up a little bit as the night goes on, and you do end up taking your jacket off. The spaghetti straps of your dress leave your tattoo exposed, and Eddie can’t help but look at it. He’s always proud of his work, but seeing it on you is different for him. He likes that his mark is on you.

Nancy and Robin leave first, walking out leaned into each other. The rest of you follow shortly after, Steve slipping out after a quick goodbye. When you stand, you stumble slightly. Eddie catches you, a hand wrapped around your upper arm.

“Let me walk you home,” he says, his hand trailing down your arm lightly before he pulls away completely.

“That’s okay, Eddie. Really.”

You put your jacket back on and struggle to find one of the sleeves, your arm reaching back awkwardly. Once again, Eddie’s quick to help you, pulling your jacket over and guiding your arm to the right spot. You thank him quietly.

“C’mon, it’s dark out.”

“You’re not gonna let me say no, are you?”

He shakes his head, that small smile you so rarely see making an appearance.

The walk is quiet for a bit, the chilled air of the night nipping at your skin, your arms pulling your jacket tight to your chest. He falls into step next to you easily, pace matching yours so he stays right next to you.

He can tell you’re cold, and he resists the urge to throw an arm over your shoulders and pull you closer to warm you up. It’d be weird, he thinks. You barely know him and he’s sure you’d much rather be walking with one of the girls right now than with him.

“Sorry for, like, intruding in your friend group.”

Though you haven’t felt like an outsider, you do feel bad about worming your way into their group that seemed to have stayed the same for so long. You feel bad for the change you caused, the shift.

“What? You’re not,” he says.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, moon girl. I am.”

He knows he might not be the most welcoming person, but he doesn’t mind having you around, really. What he minds is the confusion that comes along with it, which isn’t your fault at all. That’s on him.

“Okay. Thanks for letting me come, then.”

“I think Robin would have smacked me if I didn’t. Besides, you’re nice to have around.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the few drinks or if it’s just a fluke, but the bit of honesty slips out of him with ease. Eddie’s not a trusting person, he’s been through too much for that, but he has never once felt like you were judging him.

The rest of the walk to your apartment is filled with light conversation and small, awkward silences. Having him next to you does make you feel safer, though. You never know what could happen.

He walks you all the way up to your door. You pull out your keys and fiddle with them, your hand shakes when you try to insert it into the lock. You miss a couple of times and feel the embarrassment scorch you. You don’t know if it’s the cold, or the drinks, or if it’s him making your hands unstable. Maybe it’s all of the above.

Yet again, Eddie helps you. He comes up behind you, his chest hovering over your back, close enough to feel the heat of his body, not close enough to touch.

“Here, sweetheart” he wraps his hand around yours and guides the key into the slot, the pet name slipping out without him noticing.

You do notice, though. He says it so softly, and you think it’s your favorite word that’s come out of his mouth so far. It has your heartbeat picking up, a steady thump in your chest.

“Thanks,” you breathe out.

You turn around, leaving the key in the door for now. He’s much closer than you were expecting and he doesn’t back away. Your back against your door, your nose almost touching his.

Then, something shifts, and he’s leaning in and kissing you.

It takes you a second to get over your initial shock, but you recover quickly, winding your arms around his neck and kissing him back. He makes a sound against your mouth when you do, pressing you further into the door. He has a thigh between yours, his hands holding your waist tightly.

He kisses you like he means it, and you forget about everything else. You forget that this Eddie is the same one who puzzles you so much, that not long ago you were convinced that you’d never see him again. And yet, he’s here, kissing you sick in your hallway.

He sucks at your bottom lip, pulling away and letting it snap back into place, opening his eyes to look at you for a second, then he dives back in. Soon enough, he’s licking along the seam of your lips to open you up, and his tongue has your knees weak.

When you whimper into his mouth, he tenses.

He’s snapped back into reality, realizing that he just made out with you against your door. He pulls away, pushing his fingers into his hair. There’s a sudden change, though this one feels much worse than the one where he kissed you.

There are too many things in his head. Thinking he shouldn’t be doing this or that you’ll hate him for it. You’re about to open your mouth and ask him what’s wrong when he speaks first.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he steps back until he’s against the wall opposite from you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Eddie-”

“No, shit. I’m sorry. Good night.”

He’s walking away before you can say anything else. You stand frozen for what could be minutes before finally letting yourself into your apartment. Closing and locking the door behind you, you lean your forehead against the wood and wonder what the fuck just happened.

You’re not sure what you did wrong to make him have to leave so suddenly, and you know it’ll torment you constantly. Replaying in the back of your mind. The worst part is, you were ready to invite him inside, to let him do whatever he wanted with you. He was gone before you could even get there.

Eddie feels awful for leaving the way he did, and he thinks about turning around and knocking on your door the whole way home. He never does, though. He’s sure you don’t want to see him.

You both have a fitful sleep that night. Blocks away, both tossing and turning in bed with that kiss plaguing your minds.

Robin and Nancy’s calls grow more frequent over the following couple of weeks, and in turn, so do your encounters with Eddie. You’ve become closer, would like to say you’ve become friends, even. Though, nothing like the kiss that the two of you choose to ignore happens again.

You chalked it up to his tipsiness, he tries to forget it altogether.

It’s not because it was bad, or unwanted. It’s quite the opposite, actually. Eddie’s so used to kissing meaning absolutely nothing, leading to more every single time. Your kiss, though, was completely different. It made him feel more than he knew he was capable of.

He’s surprised that you have yet to say something about it, especially considering the way that he left. It’s a two way street; he doesn’t bring it up at all, either.

He wants to. He wants to be able to explain himself to you, to tell you why he had to pull himself away so quickly. Only, he’s not sure how. He doesn’t know how to explain the way he finds himself drawn to you, the reason he kissed you, or the feeling that runs through him every time you lock eyes. If he can’t even make sense of it himself, how is he supposed to make sense of it to you?

He can’t even bring himself to tell anyone about it because he knows, as much as they try, it won’t help.

Tonight, you’re all piled on the couches in Steve’s apartment (it’s the nicest one) eating pizza straight from the box and chatting. It’s nice to be a part of a true friend group. You’ve never had anything like it before.

“Eddie, you left your guitar here, you know?” Steve says.

He plays guitar? Fuck.

“Shit, yeah. I did.”

“You know what that means,” Robin draws out the last word, shimmying her shoulders.

“No. Absolutely not,” Eddie shakes his head.

“Please! Serenade us, Eddie.”

They go back and forth for a bit and your gaze switches between the two of them like you’re watching a game of ping pong.

“I’d like to hear you play,” you pitch in.

Robin—of course—wears a smirk. She’s been trying to get the two of you together since she saw how you interacted, and she knows Eddie won’t say no to you. He couldn’t if he tried.

“Really?” Eddie asks softly.

“Yeah. I didn’t know you played,” you shift in your seat, “I’d love to hear it. If you want.”

He fiddles with his guitar pick necklace, which you catch. Maybe that should’ve been a dead giveaway that he’s a musician, but you’d never noticed it before, usually hidden by the collar of his shirt.

Eddie’s not usually a nervous person, but the prospect of you listening to him play has him feeling that way. He’s never worried so much about how someone looks at him, or what they might think. With you, he worries because he wants to impress you, he’s realized.

“Yeah, okay. Just for you, I’ll go grab it.”

Just for you. You turn your face away to try and hide how it affects you.

He asks Steve where he left it, and goes off to retrieve it. You watch him walk away until he disappears behind a corner. There’s something about him that pulls you in, something you wish you could figure out. You know you like him, it’s quite obvious, but it’s the kind that has thoughts of him crowding your mind and that has you overthinking every word.

“You guys are paining me, I hope you know,” Robin says.

“We’re just friends. Seriously.”

“Are you sure about that?” Steve adds on. Nancy tends to just observe when the topic of you and Eddie is brought up. She’s a rational person, and she’s trying to let it work itself out naturally. Though, she’s sure it will work out eventually. Hopefully sooner than later.

Eddie comes back before you can manage a reply, holding an acoustic guitar decorated with messy, white, painted-on lettering that says ‘this machine slays dragons.’

He sits down and tunes the guitar first, focused on his task. It gives you a chance to look at him closely, lets you get away with it because the others are watching him, too. Waiting for him to start to play. When he does, you’re transfixed.

Your eyes don’t stray from him at all throughout the song he plays. His fingers move with so much ease, his rings catching the light. It’s no surprise that he’s talented with his hands, just look at the art he creates on people’s bodies everyday. But, this is another layer to it, a piece of him that made you want to see more. Made you want to collect every jigsaw piece until you had the whole image.

You think you could listen to him play for hours on end and never get tired of his strumming. Yeah, you really do like him.

When he finishes, everyone gives him a round of applause, and he hopes his hair does enough to cover up the blush that blooms on his cheeks. He looks to you first, and you’re beaming, looking at him like he’s just done something groundbreaking.

“That was amazing, Eddie,” you say.

“It’s nothing special,” he replies.

“It is. You’re really talented,” you sound so sincere it squeezes his heart in a fist. “Double talented, actually.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

He lets it slip again, and you soak it up. Eddie tries to avoid the looks from his friends, especially after the pet name. Surely, they’re all wearing smug smiles and plotting ways to talk him into giving whatever the thing between the two of you is a go.

He sets the guitar aside, clearing his throat amidst the awkward silence. You look at your lap and frown at the run in your tights that you just noticed, avoiding being the first to say anything.

Every new detail you learn about Eddie only makes you like him more. You’re still not sure if he even considers you a friend, but you certainly consider him one. You would ask but decide to save yourself the stress of having to bring it up. The worst part is, the idea of him not liking you hurts more than you’d like to admit.

The silence is eventually broken, and the floodgates of conversation have opened back up. You and Eddie both let out a breath of relief, synchronized in secrecy.

When you get up to leave, Eddie suddenly has the urge to go, too, and he offers to take you home. Much like the time before, he doesn’t let you decline the offer. He’s just being nice, you think to yourself, he would do it for anyone.

This time, he drove, and he opens the passenger door for you when you reach his car. It smells like him inside, sandalwood, something sweet, the underlying smokiness of cigarettes that you don’t mind when it comes to him. He has a pair of dice hanging from his mirror, though they’re twenty-sided instead of your average six.

“You’ll have to give me directions back to yours,” he says, starting the car. “I remember the area, but…”

Yes, he remembers the area all too well. It’s where he lingered after he sprung a kiss on you and then walked away. It’s where he jerked himself around mentally trying to decide whether he should go back to you or just go home.

“Don’t worry, I can be your map.”

The drive is silent save for the music humming through the speakers and your occasional instructions on which turns to take. It isn’t awkward, you don’t think. It’s comfortable in the way that you don’t feel the need to fill it.

One of Eddie’s hands reaches out and lightly tugs on your skirt, “this looks really nice on you.”

He pulls it away after he says it and you wish he didn’t.

“Oh,” you look down at the fabric, something you’ve owned for years, worn when you can’t figure anything else out. It’s never been anything special, but now, you feel like it might be. “Thank you.”

Eddie feels inclined to compliment you all of the time, he’s learned, but he often lets them float in his head rather than say them to you.

He parks on the street by your apartment complex soon after, but you don’t get out right away. You unbuckle your seatbelt and place a hand on the door, but he stops you.

The sight of your building has him thinking about the night you kissed for what feels like the thousandth time. He wants to kiss you again and he clenches his fists to ground himself. If you’re any bit as torn up about it as him, he wants to know. He also wants to try and explain himself to you, even if he still isn’t sure how.

“Hey. About that night,” he doesn’t have to specify. You know exactly what he’s talking about. Your hand lets go of the door handle, settling in your lap. “I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“You are?”

You don’t want him to be sorry, or to feel bad about it. You only want to know what you did to scare him off the way you did. You also want him to kiss you again.

“Um, yeah. I shouldn’t have just sprung onto you like that.”

“Why did you?” Is what you say next.

“I dunno. You just looked so pretty, and I had the urge. The drinks gave me the strength to do it, I guess.”

He hadn’t been drunk, not one bit, but he doesn’t want to use the alternate explanation just yet. He doesn’t want to say ‘I kissed you because you confuse me more than anyone else. Because I’ve never felt so bent out of shape because of one person. Because you were looking at me like you wanted me to, and I can’t say no to you.’

He could, but he doesn’t want to.

“You think I’m pretty?”

He nods, almost ashamed about it.

“I think you’re pretty, too, Eddie,” his eyes lock onto yours, “and I’m not sorry you kissed me at all.”

“What?”

“I liked kissing you. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come inside before you left.”

You don’t know where your candidness is coming from, but you can’t stop yourself anymore. You’ve wondered and wondered what could’ve happened that night had he stayed, and by the way his gaze flicks down to your lips, you think you might find out.

The car suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker, when he asks, “does that offer still stand?”

You nod, he shuts off the car. You both get out, walking up to your place in a sort of haze. Neither of you know what will come from any of this, you’re going in blind and it’s as exciting as it is nerve-wracking.

Things slow down once you’re inside. It’s as if a fog has cleared and now, you’re both painfully aware of everything you’re doing, or saying. His eyes flit around your apartment in silence, looking at your bookshelf, noting the lack of personal photos.

You cut in before he can comment on your place, “can I get you anything? Water, or…”

When he responds, it’s not to your question. Instead, he asks you one: “how’s your tattoo healing?”

He’s been curious about how you’re feeling with it ever since he caught glimpses of it that night at the bar. You pause by your small kitchen island, looking him over before you can manage to reply.

“Oh. Good, I think,” you shrug a shoulder, “I don’t know enough about tattoos but it hasn’t bothered me much.”

“I can look at it, if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

You say it as if he would be going through lots of trouble to do so, when in reality he’s using it as an excuse to get his hands on you. Tattoos are familiar, not foreign the way his feelings for you are. It’s an excuse to ease himself into whatever this is.

“‘Course I am, let me see.”

“Okay. Light’s better in the bathroom.”

He follows you into your bathroom, and you wish you’d taken into account how small it is because you’re forced to be close to him and it’s making you nervous. The anticipation and unknown a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Shirt off,” he says, his voice smooth.

You listen, because it’s hard not to when he sounds the way he does. You turn to face the mirror and peel your shirt away, tossing it to the ground when you do. You’re suddenly very aware that your bra isn’t the nicest you own, and your instinct is to cover it with your arms.

Eddie stops you, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, his hands wrapping around your wrists gently, pulling them down. “Don’t you dare. You’re beautiful.”

He looks away after he says it, but you can tell he means it. It’s in the way he makes sure you’re looking at him when he speaks, the way he squeezes your wrists reassuringly before letting them go.

For a second, he forgot why you’re even in the position you are. He forgets that he’s meant to be looking at your tattoo until you say, “how is it?”

“Right, yeah,” he looks it over, and he’s satisfied to see that it looks exactly how it should at this stage. “Really good, actually. You’re doing a great job.”

The compliment warms your insides.

“Thank you.”

“Want me to clean it for you?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He does, disinfecting it first, after finding your products on your counter. He’s gentle as usual, his hands a welcome feeling. Then, he applies the layer of lotion slowly, almost like he’s trying to tease you. It’s working.

His hands trail down your arms when he’s done, his head dipping down to press a kiss on the top of your shoulder. The first one is soft, a barely-there push of his lips against your skin. The next is a bit firmer, his confidence growing with each one.

They trail over the curve of your shoulder, his hands still running their paths up and down your arms, raising goosebumps in their wake, his chunky rings cold. He kisses his way up your neck, your head lulling to the side to grant him more access and your eyes fluttering shut.

Everything he does is filing you up more and more and he’s barely even begun.

“Eddie,” you sigh when he tugs on your earlobe with his teeth.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

He has no idea what’s come over him, but there’s no hiding the effect you have over him anymore. As soon as he got his hands on you, even just to clean your tattoo, he knew he’d be addicted.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yes, it’s- feels nice.”

You would be overthinking if you weren’t so distracted by the feeling of his lips on your skin. And when he uses a hand to tilt your face towards his and kisses you, you’re not sure there’s a single thought left in your head.

There’s something about him that makes everything more intense. You feel like all of your senses are captured by him and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The smell of his cologne, the taste on his tongue, the feeling of his hands on you and his long hair tickling your skin. All of it.

Eddie pulls away to let the both of you breathe only when it’s absolutely necessary. He’s drunk on every kiss he gets from you and he doesn’t mind one bit. He wonders what you’re like in bed, what sounds you’d make for him, and he can’t stop himself from asking, “can I fuck you?”

The words are spoken between heavy breaths, puffed out against your lips.

“Yes. Please.”

Please, you say. As if you would even have to beg him. You have no idea what you’re doing to him and it only makes him want you more. He pushes his hips against your ass, letting you feel how hard he is and you whimper, you fucking whimper and he’s so gone.

He pushes you down to bed over the counter with a hand on the center of your back, and you obey easily. You’re practically squirming with want, the dampness in your panties growing with every move he makes.

Then, he flips your skirt up, his hands running over the tights that cover you before ripping them in the middle.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he says.

He keeps a hand on your back, though its drifted much lower, and the other sneaks its way between your legs, cupping you over your underwear before pressing his fingers against you. You can't help but moan at the feeling.

“Soaking already, sweetheart?” He taunts.

“Eddie, come on.”

“What is it?”

“You’re teasing me,” you huff out, your cheek pressed against your cool countertop.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

He hooks his fingers in the fabric covering you, pulling it aside and going right back to his teasing. His fingers run up and down your slit, dipping into where you’re wet only to pull away and circle your clit; just enough to give you a taste, to have you wanting more.

He’s winding you up and up and up and you think you might pass out if he doesn’t make you come soon.

“Eddie.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got you.”

It’s then that he pushes one finger in, his rings that still sit around his fingers only add to the intensity. He works a second one in quickly, your cunt sucking him in and he can’t even imagine how good it’ll feel when he gets to fuck you for real.

He’s quick to learn what you like, what makes you pulse around his fingers or moan a little louder. You had no clue that things could ever feel this good and when his thumb finds your clit, you’re absolutely done for.

Your breaths come out hot, bits of condensation gathering on the counter, “fuck. Oh my god.”

“Feel good?” He asks even though he knows damn well it does—your reactions are telling enough. He picks up the pace, his fingers pressing against that spot that has your knees going weak. He wraps his unoccupied arm around your waist to hold you up.

“So, so good, Eddie. Gonna come.”

“Go on, all over my hand, sweetness. Then I’ll fill you right up, how’s that sound?”

Your response is caught in your throat, a whine bubbling out instead.

“Quicker you come, the quicker I’ll give it to you,” he tacks on.

The thought of him fucking you after this drives you nuts because if just his fingers feel this good, you can’t even imagine what his cock will be like. Your orgasm washes over you, eyes rolling back.

He works you through it, steadily slowing down and easing away to give you a break. He pulls his fingers away, chuckling at the noise you make when he does, and sucks them clean. Then, softly, he’s leaning down and kissing his way up your spine.

“Holy shit,” you breathe.

“You okay?”

“More than okay. You’re really good.”

“‘M not done yet, babe.”

He stands back up, but he pulls you along with him so you're no longer resting on the counter. Hands on your hips spin you to face him, and as soon as you do he surges forward to kiss you. It’s quick, like he’s making sure it’s still okay to keep going.

His touch trails up to the band of your bra—which is askew, but still on. “Can I take this off?”

You nod, but he waits for a verbal confirmation before unclasping it and pulling it away from your chest. It joins your shirt on the ground.

You’re suddenly very aware that you’re half-naked and he isn’t. You tug on his shirt, eager to even the score, “you too.”

“Well, it’s only fair, isn’t it?”

He peels his shirt over his head, and you realize that you’ve yet to see his tattoos so closely. You reach out, tracing them lightly with your fingertips. First, the bats that adorn his forearm, working your way up to his shoulder, then down his chest. He lets you, happy to have your hands on him.

While you’re occupied with his tattoos, he looks you over, free to stare without worrying if you’ll notice. His eyes travel across your face, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips. They go down your neck, a canvas he plans to leave his mark on, and down to your chest that’s now bare.

The sight is enough to remind him of how hard he is, straining against his jeans. He kisses you again, heavier this time, and lets his hands cup your tits, squeezing and thumbing over your nipples. You moan into the kiss and he can’t control himself any longer.

He lifts you up to sit on the counter, close enough to the edge that you’re forced to wrap your legs around him.

“You still want this?” He asks.

Your hands go to his jeans, popping the button open and lowering his zipper slowly, “yeah, Eddie. I want this. I want you.”

I want you. Eddie doesn’t know why the words make his heart go all fluttery, why they make him look at you like you’ve put the stars in the sky just for him. He kisses you all over again.

You fit your hand between his jeans and his boxers, and you gasp into the kiss when you feel just how big he is. He’s wide, and you know the stretch of him will be a kind of burn that hurts so good. You stroke him over his boxers first, but quickly grow impatient to see him.

You tuck your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them and his jeans down enough to free him. You pull back only to be able to look at him properly, leaning your forehead against Eddie’s bare shoulder, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth because he’s pretty everywhere.

He kisses the side of your head, tender in the midst of the heat of it all.

You think, despite his initial distance, Eddie’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. He shows it in the small things he does. Offering to take you home, the gentleness of his hands, his constant checking in on you to make sure this is what you wanted.

Yeah, you like him a whole lot.

Your hand wraps around his cock, jerking him slowly at first. A tease, he thinks. And then you pick up your pace just a bit and he thinks he might come before he even gets to be inside you and as much as he would love to see your hand covered in him, it’s not what he wants right now.

He’s never wanted anyone like he does you and he knows that information will have him overthinking later, but right now, it just makes him desperate to have you.

“Fuck,” he grabs a hold of your wrist, “as good as this feels, sweetheart, you gotta stop or I’ll come and this’ll be cut short. You don’t want that do you?”

He tips your chin up with his free hand, pecks your lips quickly before giving you the chance to respond.

“No. Want you to fuck me,” you say.

“Dirty girl.”

He reaches for a condom in one of your drawers when you tell him where to find them. When you bought them, you were almost embarrassed, because what were you expecting? Certainly not this.

He’s back on you before you really feel his absence, running his hands up your thighs, under your skirt, and tearing the hole he’d already made wider.

“You want me to stop, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Pushing your legs apart further to make room for him, he reaches down to paint himself up and down your slit, pushing himself in only when he’s teased the both of you sufficiently.

It’s a welcome stretch, one that’s better than anything you’ve ever felt in situations like this and you wonder why you didn’t move away sooner, if this is what it led to.

Eddie leans forward, resting his hands on the counter on either side of you, close enough that his arms brush against you. His face is close to yours but he doesn’t kiss you, no, he breathes the air you do, swallowing any sound you make.

His first couple of thrusts are tentative, slow, but when you wrap your arms around his neck and speak a quiet, ‘faster, please,’ he dives right in.

Somehow, he manages to know just what you need, and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you still as he moves harder, quicker. Both of you are still half dressed, your clothes in disarray and his are pushed to his knees. You’re both so wrapped up in want and it shows.

“Fuck me,” you whine as he hits that spot inside you, like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“Thought that’s what I was doing, sweets.”

“Eddie.”

“I know, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He knows your orgasm is creeping up on you, he can feel it in the way you pulse around him, squeeze him tighter, bury your face in his neck so that your moans are pushed into his skin.

If he could, he thinks he’d get the sound of them permanently etched into his mind.

“Taking it so well. You wanna come, sweet girl?”

You nod against his skin, “yes. Yes, can I?”

He snakes a hand down to rub your clit, to push you over that edge and says, “let go. Give it to me.”

It’s like his words were what you were waiting for, the breaking point to let you finish. It’s enough to make your moans get caught in your throat and your eyes squeeze shut, seeing stars.

“Oh my god,” you choke out.

“That’s it,” he works you through it, and only when he’s sure that you’re on the comedown does he let himself finish, too.

He pulls your head from his neck with a hand cupping the back of yours, kissing you to really seal the deal, coming with a grunt into your mouth.

When he’s spent, he rests his forehead against yours, running his hands up and down your back soothingly, “you okay?”

“Mmm. Amazing,” you reply, dazed with a fucked out smile on your face. “Why��re you good at everything?”

He chuckles, kissing your cheek before pulling out, “maybe I’m just good at them with you.”

Discarding the condom and pulling his boxers back up—removing his jeans completely—he then finds a small towel and wets it in the sink. Meanwhile, you take off the rest of your outfit, figuring he’s seen enough already. He cleans you up first, delicate hands and a soft apology when you wince from the sensitivity.

He picks you up when he’s done, your legs wrapped around his waist and your head dropped against his shoulder. It feels natural, he thinks, to take care of you the way he would a lover. You feel like you belong there, in his hold, and he knows that you’ve changed him in a way.

His reluctance to get into any kind of relationship seems to have flown out the window now.

The door across the hall is the first he tries, and he guessed correctly when he finds your bedroom on the other side of the door.

He lays you down on your bed, and you pull the blankets up over yourself, lazily. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to look at Eddie the same way, but it’s not a bad thing. It’s not because of the sex, though it was notably the best you’ve ever had and you’ll undoubtedly think about it constantly. It’s because you have feelings for him. Real, true, romantic feelings that run far too deep for you to ignore.

He goes to leave, but you catch his wrist, “you can stay.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay with me. If you want to,” you say.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

He doesn't even hesitate, and he tries not to think about what that means for this thing he knows is blooming between you, its petals unfurling slow and steady. He slips into bed beside you, welcoming you when you snuggle into his side.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Night, moon girl.”

You’re both fucked, literally and figuratively.

You wake up the most well-rested you’ve felt in a while. Flipping onto your back, you stretch out, and it’s only then that you feel the emptiness on the other side of the bed.

For a moment, you’d almost forgotten Eddie had been there in the first place. Then, you remembered you were, in fact, naked. The slight ache between your legs was enough to have last night coming back to you in a rush.

You wonder if maybe Eddie had to leave for work, but you don’t find a note or any indication of his departure. Instead, you hear the clanking of pans and plates coming from the kitchen.

You throw on a fresh pair of underwear and one of your oversized sleep shirts that sits at the top of your thighs. You’re still groggy, mind slower with sleep, but you’re awake enough to hear Eddie humming when you open your bedroom door and step out into the hall.

There he is, standing by your stove, cooking breakfast. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re not dreaming. Or seeing things.

He moves around like he’s been using your kitchen for ages, and his presence warms the space that you’ve had such a hard time getting used to. You recognize the song he’s humming to be the one he played on the guitar. The corners of your mouth lift up.

“Eddie?” You call quietly, careful not to startle him while his back is turned to you.

“Oh,” he faces you, frying pan in his hand, “morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“I’m making us breakfast, I hope that’s okay.”

Is he kidding? It’s the most okay thing anyone’s done for you in a long time and you don’t know whether you want to cry or kiss him. He’s unlike anyone you’ve known, and you can’t believe how different he is now compared to when you first met.

His guard was up, short responses and little emotion. It’s a stark contrast to now, to the way he stands clad only in his boxers and his shirt from the night before, flipping a pancake like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You don’t know how he could even keep the saccharine boy hidden, it seems to ooze out of him now.

“It’s- Eddie, this is really sweet.”

The tips of his ears go pink.

He doesn’t know what possessed him to cook for you, or why the sincerity in your appreciation makes him blush. All he knows is that he thought it would be nice to make you smile, and that there’s something in his chest that seems to expand when you do.

“I hope you like pancakes,” he says.

That morning is the moment you realize you’re falling in love with Eddie Munson.

It’s been weeks since that night, that morning. Somehow, rather than put distance between the two of you, you and Eddie have grown closer. You think he’s one of the best friends you’ve ever had, even though you haven’t known him very long.

You’re not falling in love with him anymore. No, you’re deep in it now.

Of course, Robin was able to draw it out of you, and after all of her assuring you that there’s absolutely no way Eddie doesn’t feel the same, you still can't let yourself believe her. You’ll bever come back from it if you find out he doesn’t when you’ve built up your expectations.

So, you keep them low. He’s your friend, that’s all it’ll ever be and you know it. Or, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself every time you catch yourself getting a little too lost in him.

You’re meant to be meeting the gang at the tattoo shop and then head somewhere for drinks all together. Because you’re not only close with Eddie now, you’ve found yourself friends that are real and true. Sometimes you find yourself wondering what your life would’ve been like had you been in high school alongside them. You think it would have been much, much better, but you have them now and that’s what matters.

You knock on the door when you get there, the shop already closed and locked up. You’re quickly greeted with Robin’s grinning face on the other side of the glass. She lets you in and wraps you in a brief hug.

“I think you should start working here just so I don’t have to miss you at all in between plans,” she says, stepping back and locking the door again.

“We both know I don’t have the skills for that, but I missed you, too, Robin.”

“Not as much as you missed me, I hope,” is how Eddie chooses to announce his presence.

“Hi, Eddie.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Robin scoffs at him, “can you not steal my thunder for once, please.”

“I’m not allowed to say hi to my friend?”

He looks at you when he says friend, like he’s sharing a secret. Only, you have no idea what it might be.

“Whatever. I have to go get Nance since she went home to change,” she gathers her stuff from the desk. Then, she points to you and says, “I better get a very detailed life update later.”

“You know you will,” you say.

“‘Kay, see you soon!”

She leaves after that, and Eddie’s gaze is already fixed on you when you turn towards him.

“C’mere,” he nods towards the doors that lead to the back room, where the station he tattooed you at is all set up.

“What’s this?”

“I want you to give me a tattoo.”

Your eyes widen, “sorry?”

“I’m serious. Doesn’t have to be big, it can be a dot if you want,” he gently nudges your chin with his finger, closing your mouth where it was dropped in surprise. “I wanna teach you.”

Your friendship isn’t the only thing that’s grown since that night. Eddie’s become more touchy with you, too. An arm slung over your shoulders, a hand on your thigh or the nape of your neck. Though this touch is small, it doesn’t fail to leave a lasting effect where it was placed, a warmth, like a drop of sunlight. It almost distracts you from what he’s asking.

“Eddie, I can’t. I’ll mess it up.”

“Babe, I’ve got loads of tattoos. Trust me, it’ll be fine,” he moves his hand to your shoulder, gives it a squeeze. “Plus, you’ve got a great teacher.”

It takes a bit longer for him to convince you, but he succeeds in the end. It’s hard to say no to someone you’re in love with, especially if that someone has really good puppy dog eyes.

Before you really even process it, he’s on the tattoo bed, a pant leg rolled up, shaving a small patch for you to use as your canvas. He does all of the prepping necessary, and even goes as far as to put the gloves on for you.

He explains it all slowly, repeats whatever you ask him to, and promises to guide you through it all. You’re incredibly nervous—who wouldn’t be?

“Relax. You’re gonna be a natural, I know it.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve got good hands, sweetheart,” he drops one of his eyelids in a wink.

The flirting is something else that’s become more frequent. You think he’s flirting, that is. He doesn’t act the same way with the rest of the group and you know that, but you also need to not get your hopes up. Still, the butterflies come alive.

You draw your stencil, settling on a very simple rendition of the sun. A small circle with short lines as its rays. It’s fitting for him, you think. As much as he seems like midnight on the outside, that boy is dripping in sunshine.

It also goes with the one he gave you, but that’s just a bonus.

Once it’s applied and you’re sat on the stool, in position to begin, he explains it all over again. He knows you’re nervous, but he isn’t at all. He’s excited to have you do this, to wear a piece of you on his skin.

His hand wraps around yours on the tattoo gun for the first line, guiding you so that you can get the feel of it. He lets you take over after that, assuring you that there’s nothing you could mess up enough to have him dislike it, as long as you’re the one doing it.

As he watches you work, your tongue poking out between your lips in focus, he feels his chest swell. He’s never liked anyone the way he does you, and he’s never let someone untrained tattoo him, that’s for sure. There’s something in him that seems to brighten when you’re around, and he doesn’t know how to put it into words.

He wishes he could pluck the moon out of the sky and hold it in his hand, only to be able to give it to you. Since he can’t do that, he hopes his heart will do good enough. He loves you, that he knows, he just can’t bring himself to say the words out loud.

He’s warmed up to you quicker than ever, so much so that the people around him have noticed. That means something and he knows it.

“I think I’m done,” you say after a bit.

“Yeah? Let’s see this work of art then.”

He sits up, bends closer to his leg to get a look at your handiwork. He’s silent at first and it makes you nervous.

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” he says.

You know it’s far from perfect. The lines aren’t even, nor are they all straight. But he says it like he means it, believes it, so you let yourself smile at that.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m super sure.”

He wouldn’t have ever picked out the sun for himself, but knowing that you would has his walls crumbling even more—if that’s even possible with you.

He does the cleaning and the wrapping, and you’re happy to observe. Just as he’s finishing up, Robin and Nancy walk in, Steve not far behind.

“I leave you guys for not even an hour, and now you have a tattoo?” Robin says, though she doesn’t even sound surprised.

Eddie thinks his feelings swell and grow every single time he sees you, and he thinks they might just boil over and pour out of him before he even gets to figure out what to say. That won’t do. You deserve more than that.

You deserve to be taken on a date, to be appreciated and taken care of properly, and that’s what he needs to do. The only problem is, he has no idea how to go about it all.

There’s only one person he can think of who will know exactly what to do. The expert in dating; Steve. Eddie calls him into his office.

“What’s up, boss?” Steve says, leaning against the doorway the way he always does.

“Close the door, would you?”

“Shit. Am I in trouble? I may have spilled some ink the other day but you can barely even see it, swears.”

Eddie shakes his head, making note to take a look around his station later. He’s used to Steve’s clumsiness, though, it’s part of the reason he wanted dark floors in the shop.

“No. That’s not- I need your help.”

“Oh. Okay, hit me.”

“I want to ask her out. I just don’t really know, um, where to take her or whatever.”

Eddie doesn’t even have to say your name for Steve to know who he’s talking about. He’s painfully aware that he’s been quite obvious with his affections, especially ever since the night you had sex. He’s always itching to have his hands on you in some way, stealing you away from other conversations, all of it.

That night was like a wake up call for him, a bucket of cold water dumped over his head. He knew there was something about you before that, but it became concrete.

He’d never felt so connected to someone, nor had he been so eager to take care of them afterwards. Hell, he’s never even slept in the same bed as his hookups. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s slept over at all. Then, there was you, asking him to stay and he couldn’t say no to you. He didn’t want to, either.

“You know her better than I do, man. But, flowers, you gotta do. They love that. Do you know her favorites?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“That’s fine. Get a good mix. Other than that, you should just be honest, that’s what Robin always tells me,” he shrugs. “Why don’t you just call her now?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Come on! She’s gonna say yes. She gives you those lovey-dovey eyes all the time.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Out.”

“Not even a thank you?��

“Thanks, Steve. Bye.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he leaves Eddie’s office, shutting the door behind him again. He, along with Nancy and Robin, knows that you and Eddie will end up together, it’s obvious to everyone except you two, they only want to help it along.

Eddie really hopes that their pestering will be worth it in the end. That you’ll feel the same.

He stares at the phone sitting on his desk for what feels like ages before he musters up the courage to actually call you. He had your file open on his desk, your number written out on one of the forms. He finally picks up the phone and dials it.

Luckily, you weren’t at work. You’d been thinking of Eddie more and more each day it seemed. How he looked at you, the secret smiles that he saved just for you, the way he touched you, the way he felt-

The phone ringing cuts off your train of thought. You walk over and pick it up, prepared for it to be Robin or Nancy since they’re the only ones that ever call you besides your boss. The voice on the other line is neither of them.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s Eddie.”

As close as you’ve gotten, for some reason, no phone numbers have been exchanged. You wish they had been, because hearing his voice crackle through the phone is a much nicer sound than most.

“Eddie, hi. How’d you get my number?”

He twists one of his rings around with his thumb. He’s glad you can’t actually see him, because you’d surely be able to tell that he’s nervous.

“It’s on file in the shop. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I like talking to you,” you say, soft and sincere. “What’s up?”

“I, uh,” he shakes his head, trying to figure out exactly what to say. “Are you busy tonight?”

“No, I’m not. Do you guys want to do something?”

“Not exactly,” he says.

Your heart beats quicker in your chest, because you think he’s about to ask you out, maybe. If not that, then at least ask you to do something with just him, which is close enough for you to consider it a win. You smile like an idiot.

He clears his throat and continues, “I wanted to know if you’d want to go out… with me.”

It’s happening, you think. Something is shifting as you speak, the feelings you’ve tried to suppress for so long are itching to come out.

“Like a date?” You ask. Just to be sure.

“Yeah, moon girl. Like a date.”

“I’d really, really like that, Eddie.”

He thinks you can probably hear the smile in his voice when he says, “yeah? Me too.”

He tells you he’ll pick you up, to wear whatever you like, not to worry about being over or underdressed, ‘you’ll look pretty either way, trust me,’ he’d said.

When you hang up, you’re trying not to jump around and squeal like a thirteen year old. It’s difficult to contain your excitement, your nerves, your hope. It feels as if a door is opening. A door to more nights like that night, more mornings with shared breakfast, more kissing, more than friends. More, more, more.

Meanwhile, Eddie’s wondering how he’ll get through the rest of the work day when his head is filled with the promise of seeing you.

After much debating on what to wear, no thanks to Eddie’s sweet yet vague instructions, the buzzer sounds in your apartment. You make your way over, one shoe on, the other in your hand. You press the button and speak.

“Hello?”

“Hey, moon girl.”

“Eddie,” he only said three words and you’re already smiling. “Come on up.”

You rush to get your other shoe on, luckily finishing up just as he knocks on your door. There’s a moment where you’re almost expecting someone else to be on the other side, to have been dreaming the whole date up. Luckily, it’s real.

Eddie stands in the hall, pretty as ever. His hair is in its usual mess of waves and curls, his classic leather jacket and denim vest duo are on, and in his hand, a bouquet of flowers.

He notices you looking at them and holds them out, “these are for you.”

“This is really nice, Eddie. Thank you.”

You take them from him, holding them up to your nose to smell them (and also to hide how wide your grin is). He stands by the door, a ball of nerves, and watches you put them into a big cup, because you never had a reason to buy a vase until now. He decides next time, he’ll deliver the flowers in a vase just so you have one.

He holds your hand on the way down, opens the car door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before closing it, he tells you in at least three different ways how beautiful you look during the car ride alone, and he drives with a hand resting on your thigh, your fingers toying with his rings.

He’s an absolute dream.

He takes you to a small restaurant, fancy enough for a date—though you think being with Eddie, no matter where, would be enough for you—but casual enough that you aren’t too worried about the people around you being judgemental. You sit in a booth and instead of across, Eddie sits beside you. He keeps a hand on your thigh during your meal, too.

In his car once more, you’re sitting in the parking lot with music playing through the speakers. Eddie hasn’t made a move to start driving you yet, and you haven’t even thought about going home. You haven’t ever been on an official date before, but if you had, you’d say with absolute certainty that this is the best one.

You sit sideways in the passenger seat so you can look at him, and Eddie’s head is turned toward you, his cheek against the headrest.

“Have you had a girlfriend before?” You ask.

You don’t know why the thought comes out of your mouth. You’d been thinking it, though. Robin’s always hinting at how different he is with you, at the fact that Eddie’s never brought a girl he’s liked around his friends. You’re curious.

“No, I haven’t. Why do you seem surprised?”

“It’s just, you’re really good at this.”

“At what, sweetheart?”

“Like, going on a date. And… other stuff, too.”

He shifts in his seat, resting an elbow on the center console and leaning closer to you. Much, much closer. Your noses are almost touching and you can see the way his eyelashes frame his eyes.

He nudges his nose against yours, “what stuff?”

You know he’s teasing you, trying to make you give him more detail because it’ll make you go all shy or embarrassed. To him, it’s cute, and he’s been trying not to kiss you all night. He was going to wait until he dropped you off like a proper gentleman, but he figures making it through dinner is good enough.

“Eddie,” you draw his name out, almost whining.

“Tell me. Come on, please? You can’t just bring it up and not share.”

The hand of his that isn’t resting between you comes up to push your hair over your shoulder, then slides around to hold the back of your neck loosely.

“God, okay. Um, you’re a good kisser. Like, really good,” he leans in and pecks you for that, pulling away just enough to let you keep talking, your lips still brushing against his. “And, I love your hands.”

“My hands?”

“They’re very talented. You know, ‘cause you’re an artist, and all.”

He huffs and shakes his head. Enough of the teasing, he leans in and kisses you deeper this time. Your hands move and grip the sides of his jacket, holding him close to you.

You kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and it’s enough to have you panting and warm all over. His hand squeezes your neck gently before he pulls away, his lips slick with spit, swollen and darker from your kiss. You’re sure yours don’t look much different.

Eddie drops his forehead against yours, takes both of your hands in his, “do you want to go home?”

You shake your head.

“Can I show you my place, then?”

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

He’s not saying it to get you in his bed, though there’s no doubt that would be a bonus, but he doesn’t want this date to end. There’s also a part of him that wants to see you in his apartment, let you into more of his life.

He’s only ever been to yours, and he doesn’t have the whole group over at his, so you’ve never seen it. He thinks, if he’s really going to give this a shot, he might as well let another wall crumble down for you.

The drive there is fairly quick, and yet again, his hand finds your thigh. This time, though, he lets his fingers hold on, rather than just rest in your lap. You like it a lot.

Eddie’s apartment isn’t what you expect. You thought it’d be decorated like the shop: dark colors, black and white art, hints of red. His place is much warmer, much homier. It suits him perfectly.

He has a huge record collection, a whole wall of his living room dedicated to the shelves and the player itself. He also has a shelf for his books. Some more worn than others, letting you know which are his favorites of the bunch.

You trail your fingers along the spines, admiring his collection. He lets you, standing not too far away, enjoying how you look in his space.

His bathroom is much like yours, small and plain, but it’s tidy save for some products of his strewn about the counter. His bedroom is so obviously his that it makes you smile. From the rings and other jewelry sitting atop his dresser, to his dark gray bedding, to the guitars that are displayed proudly, to the desk pushed into a corner with pages upon pages spread about.

You gravitate towards that desk without a second thought.

There’s something so intimate about seeing his art station in his home, much different to his office at the shop. Here, he can let it be a mess, and can draw whatever he pleases.

“Is it okay if I look at these?” You ask.

“‘Course,” he says. He walks up behind you, lets his hands hold your sides loosely and rests his chin on your shoulder. You revel in the warmth of his chest against your back.

You pick up some of the loose pages, looking at the different pieces. Skulls and flowers and landscapes and so much more. He can do it all, you think. You can see so much detail, the strokes of his pencil, and it’s clear how much talent he has.

“These are all beautiful, Eddie.”

He turns his head to peck your cheek, “thank you, sweetheart.”

You reach for a worn sketchbook next, the cover peeling at the edges and the pages nearly full. It flips open to where it seems to have been used the most, the spine broken. What you see makes you gasp quietly, but Eddie’s close enough to hear it.

Covering the pages are drawings of the moon. Over and over again he drew them. Some are big, taking up an entire page, and some are scrawled into corners and empty spaces, like he couldn’t stop adding them. All of these drawings for your tattoo, and he’d only shown you a few.

“It’s weird, right?” Eddie says, hiding his face in your neck.

If he’s honest, he forgot that sketchbook was even there. He couldn’t forget about the drawings you found—you’d taken up so much of his thoughts after meeting that he couldn’t stop drawing the fucking moon for you. There are so many and he’s embarrassed by it, because he really was screwed after the first day even when he refused to see it.

“No, it’s- these are all for me?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout you, so I drew these,” he speaks into your skin. “I was trying to avoid my feelings for you, but clearly, that didn’t work. You wouldn’t get out of my head and I had no idea why.”

You turn in his hold, leaving the sketchbook open on his desk. You look at him, the way his cheeks are pink at your finding of his drawings, the way his eyes flick between yours.

“I love them. Every single one,” I love you. “I thought about you a lot, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. So much. You made me nervous at first,” you admit, your hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

“I’m not used to, um, opening up to people and all. I’ve never even been in a relationship,” his hands come up and grab yours, like he needs the comfort. “You make me want to try, though.”

You have to say it. There’s no way you can’t, not when he’s looking at you with those eyes filled with something.

“I love you, Eddie,” his eyes widen, he freezes. “You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just really needed to tell you. You’re the first sense of comfort I’ve found since I moved, and I don’t think I would have felt at home without you and I love you.”

No matter how scared he is to be with you, because he wants to be someone worth being with and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he can’t ignore the fact that he loves you right back. And he hasn’t said those words to many people in his life.

It’s big for him, so big that he’s stumbling over his words but he tries anyway.

“Oh my god,” he kisses your knuckles, “I love you, sweetheart. My moon girl, fuck, I love you, too. I’ve never done this before, but there’s nobody else I’d want. Nobody.”

You feel so many things at once. Relief and happiness and a thousand fireworks in your gut and in your heart. You grab his face with your hands and drag him down to kiss you.

It’s broken by your smiles, your teeth bumping into each other but neither of you care one bit. He holds your wrists gently, returns your kiss with ease. He’s delicate with his touch, so, so perfect with his lips on yours.

He only pulls away to ask, “will you be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

You nod vehemently, “been yours since you kissed me the first time. Probably even before that.”

You’re not worried about the ‘told you so’s you’re sure to get from your friends, or what happens next because you know whatever it is, Eddie’s gonna be there.

“Think you had me the minute you started talking ‘bout the moon.” He just didn’t know it yet.

༄

if you enjoyed, please leave a reblog or let me know what you thought! it helps loads more than you think <3

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 5 months

Note

heya hiya bbg!! since you are writing for bucky i might as well do 10 y/o me some justice <3

i weirdly remember this dream i had (most of my requests are my delusional ahh dreams oml😞) where reader basically calms him after a nightmare like asking him what happened, if he wants to talk abt it, humming/singing to him, trying to cheer him up, etc etc

v cute v fluffy <3

hopefully u can get to this soon! have a great week/end!

-🪐

angel my bbg hi!! love it love it love it!! thank you for requesting, hope you like it 💌

UNRESTED.

bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count. 647

warnings. reverse comfort bc I can’t stop myself from writing it, nightmares but no description. it’s just fluff and comfort

It was no secret that Bucky didn't sleep well, often tormented by memories, leaving him with minimal hours of uninterrupted rest. Most nights were the same, him restlessly tossing in bed, murmuring and jolting as though he's stuck in the past - reliving it all over again.

Tonight was no different. You were nudged awake by your boyfriend sleeping to the right of you, his twitching movements hustling the mattress and snatching the covers. You check the time on your phone and sit up slowly, adjusting beside Bucky.

You extend a hand, hesitantly reaching for him. You place your palm over his shoulder, the sheen of his cold sweat permeating your skin. "James," you whisper, trying not to startle him. "James," you try again.

He abruptly sits, lids flinging open, a deep, heavy inhale filling his lungs. "God," he murmurs, brushing a hand down his face. His breathing is ragged and strained, shoulders tensing under your touch.

You brush your hand down his back, stroking over him smoothly. "You're awake. It's okay," you coo, drawing circles over his scarred skin - trying to refocus his mind.

He sighs, dropping his head in his hands, his breathing beginning to even out. "Was the same one again," he mumbles, his voice soft and saddened against his palms.

Your touch remains warm, trailing over him lovingly. "It sounded like it," you whisper, your tone gentle. "I'm sorry, love."

You slip your free hand into his metal one, carefully pulling it away from his face - your thumb brushing over the vibranium. You bring him to your lips and press a kiss on the back of it. You continue to hold him like that, one hand grazing up and down the curve of his back, your other holding the metal on your lap - trying to bring him back as such.

Bucky turns to look at you, his face knowing. The sight of your sweet features gently lit up in the moonlight, slowly putting his mind at ease.

You meet his downcast gaze, your eyes pooling with empathy. You give him a weak smile before resting the side of your head on his left shoulder, cheek skimming the scars.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask.

He copies your movement, resting his head over yours - the side of his face propped on your crown. "Not yet," he mutters in response, exhaling a steady breath.

"That's okay," you whisper back, turning to place a kiss on his upper metal arm. "We don't have to right now."

There's a moment of comfortable silence - the only sounds of breathing and the heavy pitter-patter of rain against the window. You continue to hold Bucky, waiting for him to pull away. But he never does.

"Sorry for waking you again,"

"James," you comfort, sweetly cooing at him. "You never have to be sorry for that... I was already awake anyway," you lie - trying to make him feel better.

You keep a grip on him as you lean back against the mattress, pulling him with you, which he adjusts immediately, cuddling into your side - his arm draping over your middle. You slip your arm under his head and wrap around it, almost like you were cocooning him. Protecting him. Just you cradling his head safely in your arms.

"Thank you," Bucky mutters, his words muffling against your skin as he presses a kiss to your shoulder.

Your fingers graze up into the short hairs at the back of his head - nails soothingly scratching his scalp. "Of course," you murmur back, whispering into his forehead.

Both of you stay like that, listening to the night storm, cuddled and huddled under the covers - his hand slowly making its way up to your heart. He rests his palm over the organ, using the faint thumping to ease him back to sleep.

#request #🪐#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky comfort #bucky barnes comfort #reverse comfort #bucky x female reader

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freelancearsonist · 12 days

Text

hunger

➔ Lucy MacLean (Fallout) x AFAB!Reader

➔ 0.8k words

➔ You teach your best friend something new.

➔ Rated MA // oral (reader receiving), a little bit of internalized homophobia, reader is afab (female anatomy, no pronouns used), two (2) okie dokies

➔ This happened bc @ozarkthedog challenged me to write some lucy porn with no plot (thank you my love <3) i have this condition where i can't write anything less than 1k so i was shook this came to me so easily hopefully it doesn't suck fjsfjslfjs

“I’ve never…”

“We don’t have to,” you quickly counter. The last thing you want to do is pressure Lucy into new territory.

She looks up at you from her position against the pillows with the biggest, prettiest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. “I want to,” she says with an earnest nod that sends her long hair out around her head like a dark halo. “I really want to.”

“Okay.”

This goes against everything you’ve been taught since the two of you were kids. Sex is for reproduction, not pleasure. It’s nothing more than goal-based. It’s all bullshit, of course, and you’ve never been quiet about your thoughts on that–much to the quiet chagrin of the leadership. You hadn’t realized until recently, though, that your childhood best friend feels the same way.

In a flash she’s got you trapped in her arms so she can roll on top of you, drawing a surprised gasp from your lips at the quick flip. She’s a lot stronger than she looks.

“I’ve never been on this side,” she murmurs, breath warm against your neck. “You’re gonna have to show me what to do.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and at first no words come. How long have you wanted to be in this exact position with this exact girl? How could words even hope to convey all the thoughts rushing through your brain right now? “I can do that.”

“Okie dokie.”

Her lips are so soft. There’s a heady contrast between her firm grip on your hips and the feather-light way she makes her way down the expanse of your stomach. There’s confidence in everything Lucy Maclean does, but she looks up at you now as she kisses your hip and there’s nerves swirling in those chocolate brown irises. Underneath her self-assuredness, there’s always been a fear of failure. It’s something you’ve comforted her through a lot over the years.

“Do I just… go for it?”

You can’t help smiling at that wide-eyed eagerness to learn and to please. “You know what feels good to you?”

She nods, fingers unconsciously massaging your spread thighs. She’s already so good at this without even realizing it.

“Start with that, and we’ll go from there.”

She nods again, and that look crosses her face. It’s one you’ve been familiar with since you were both in velcro shoes–sheer determination, resolution to rise to a challenge. You’ve always admired that look. Lucy “never backs down” MacLean is a badass, and you’re lucky to call her your best friend.

She starts with light little kitten licks to your clit, whining as her hips shift to grind against the mattress from your taste alone. She’s a little light on the pressure but you moan anyway to show her she’s on the right track. “That’s it baby, a little harder…”

“I won’t hurt you?”

Your hand comes down to cup her cheek, silently reassuring. “No, honey, you can be rough with it. Feels so good.”

She’s always taken constructive criticism in stride–she pulls away for just a moment to readjust her grip on your spread thighs, and then she returns with vigor. This time, when she seals her lips around your clit and sucks, your moan isn’t even remotely fabricated.

“Like that?” She asks, a proud smile flickering at the corners of her lips as she lets her tongue trail down to taste you properly.

“Yeah, Lucy, fuck.”

“You taste good,” she murmurs into your cunt, matter-of-fact. You can’t help smiling, even through the whine that escapes you as she returns to your clit.

“You’re doing great,” you praise as your fingers tangle into her hair. So soft, so well cared for. Always prim and proper–you love that you get to be the one to unwind her like this.

She’s a remarkably fast learner–in just a few quick minutes, and she has you whining and bucking your hips on the edge of a precipice.

“Oh god Lucy, I’m gonna–”

But you don’t get to finish your sentence, because she doesn’t relent. Her lips seal around your clit and she doesn’t let up until you’re gushing, simultaneously trying to push her away and pull her closer.

“Wow,” she breathes reverently. “Was that good?”

“Incredible,” you sigh. Your bones feel like liquid–it’s all you can do to pull her up into a messy kiss. The taste of your own arousal on your beautiful best friend’s tongue is nothing short of euphoric.

She keeps her mouth locked to yours for a long moment, then you can feel her lips twist into a broad grin. “I want to do it again.”

“Easy killer,” you say with a breathy little chuckle. “It’s your turn first.”

Her eyes widen for a moment, and then she’s nodding her head rapidly. “Okie dokie.”

➔ beta: @ozarkthedog ; dividers: @saradika-graphics

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

➔ Want to support me? Please reblog this fic! It helps boost it in the algorithm and gives it more circulation no matter what your follower count is :) any feedback or comment is always greatly appreciated!!

#lucy maclean #lucy maclean x reader #lucy maclean smut #lucy maclean fanfic #fallout fanfic #fallout #cece writes

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toxic-aries · 2 years

Text

my tattoo artist went down on me (2k words)

paring: tattoo artist!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie munson offered to design a new tattoo for you, during the session things got a little heated.

warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), oral (f recieving), fingering, squirting, some strong lanuage, and some cringey writing, if i missed any please let me know.

a/n: this is a super old draft from a few months ago so I hope you all enjoy <;3

feedback & criticism is very appreciated. please let me know if you have any thoughts on how I can approve. thank you :)

You stood outside the Munsons trailer, a tad bit nervous, but it is a normal feeling…especially when it comes to getting a new tattoo. But, the thought of Eddie Munson giving you said tattoo made your heart race even more…not that you didn't trust his tattooing skills…oh come on you didn't trust that boy's art skills at all.

All of a sudden the screen door of the trailer swings open, and there stood Eddie. Shirtless. Kind of sweaty. Messy curls as always. Slightly tighter jeans than normal. This look of his caught you off guard, rightfully so…it was a stunning look. “Are you just going to stand there like a creep?” He leaned his body against the door frame, crossing his arms while examining you.

Your mouth parted slightly like you were going to answer his question, but no words were coming out. All you wanted to do was stare at him. He knew. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” He whispered as you stepped through the doorway of the trailer, those words sent shivers down your spine. “Come on, I have everything set up in my room.”

“You do know what you're doing right, Munson?” You teased as Eddie led you to his room down the hall.

“Well how else do you think I got these sweet ole’ tatties, huh?” He points at the bats on his arm, “This is my newest work, you like?”

“Not really my style…but they're cool.”

“You seem hard to please…” He mumbles to himself as he sits down in a rolly chair, then opening a sketchbook turning to the page with your design on it. You just wanted some simple roses on your thigh, not too much. “Does this look like what you had in mind, darling?” He really needs to stop with these pet names.

His artwork was actually…good. Surprisingly. “Oh my gosh, I love that!” You exclaimed. He rolls over to the edge of his bed and pats it motioning for you to sit down. The workspace area wasn't the greatest but hey…it’s more professional looking than others. A single towel sits on the edge of the bed, the tattoo gun with the ink caps on a random nightstand and a pair of normal gloves beside it. “Well, I’m glad you like it…hopefully I can draw the sketch again actually on your leg”

Eddie says as he pulls out a couple markers, biting the cap off of one and spitting it out onto the floor, he rolls himself over to you. Putting his knee in between your legs, “Now which thigh are we putting it on.” His pretty brown eyes look up at you as his free hand caresses the side of your right thigh.

“U-uhm…my right one. I want it…” You pointed to the upper thigh of your right leg, making a general circle motion around the area. “About right here.” He moved his hand to that spot, retracing that circle you had made. “So, you want it right here?” You gulped at his question, feeling the slight tension building in the room. “I guess you're going to have to take these things off so we can get started.” His finger moves from your thigh to your hip, pulling on the belt loop of your jeans. “I thought I told you to wear something short.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I had just gotten off work and -”

“Y/N, i'm only playing around…” Eddie chuckled as he pushed himself back, giving you some space to take off your jeans. “Unless, you like to be told what to do?” His eyebrow raised as he watches you stand up and unbutton your jeans.

“Maybe I do, Munson.” His eyes widen at your words. “Oh really…” Eddie's words lingered as he rolled over to you, your hips perfectly in line with his head. “Maybe…I can help take these off for you, sweetheart.” His hands moved up your legs to your hips, pulling down on your belt loops. Pulling down your pants slowly. The feeling of his hands against your bare skin sends tingles throughout your body. The cold metal from his rings sent chills. The intimacy was a bare minimum, but your body craved more.

“Sit back down.”

You listened. He grabbed the marker again and began to draw the rose design on your upper thigh. About thirty or some extra minutes pass and he’s done with the sketch. It looked just like what was in his notebook. “You ready?”

“I guess so…lay it on me.”

Eddie’s been tattooing for about an hour. The vibrations from the tattoo gun piercing your skin sends tingles throughout your entire body. Causing you to grip onto the sheets of his bed, tighter and tighter and tighter. Eddie notices. He moves his free hand to your opposite leg, gripping his hand in the skin of your soft thigh. “Do you need a break?” You shook your head to signal no, you were lying.

He pushed himself back slightly as he lifted the machine up from your skin, placing it on the table beside him. “I can tell you need a break…” His words faded off almost like he was going to say more, which made you curious. Your eyes met his. He uses the chair to pull himself closer to you, leaving you face to face, merely inches apart. “Maybe, we can do something else…instead.”

“Like what?”

“Like this.” He pushes your body against the bed, now hovering over you. His finger pulls your chin up closer to his face, staring directly at your lips. You need him. All of him. You couldn't take the tease anymore, so, your arms wrap around his neck and pull yourself up to meet his lips. Clashing into each other. You wanted more. His lips trailed off yours, moving down to your chin, then your neck. Leaving a few marks on his territory. “Let me take this off of you.” He whines into the crook of your neck while pulling at the edge of your t-shirt. His hand starts pulling it up as you move with his movements finally taking it off. Exposing your bare chest.

Suddenly the heated makeout session paused. “Oh shit, I don't want you getting an infection with this thing being exposed. Stand up real quick.” He said as he stood up, reaching his hand out to help pull you up. He put a few layers of paper towels over the half-way done rose, taping the edges to your skin, making sure he doesn't make it too uncomfortable for you. “Does that feel okay?” You nodded at his question.

Eddie places a few soft and gentle kisses on your other thigh, getting closer and closer to you. You feel as his hand moves from the side of your thigh to palm your clothed pussy. His touch caused you to jump a tad, “Oh. Do you not want that?” He said as he looked up at you.

“N-No, I do, trust me. I want that.” You whined, practically begging for him at this point. A smirk grew on his face. Using his pointer he slid your panties over, running said finger down your pussy, “You’ve been this wet the whole time?” He sighed, “Fuck Y/N.” His pointer finger then enters your core, making slight pumping motions. Then pulling it out, putting his hands on your hips, his face directly in line with you.

“Take them off, please.” Your voice was breathy. Eddie wasted no time, pulling your hips closer to his face then using his teeth to drag your panties down your legs. Finishing taking them off using his hands. He stood up from the chair, towering over you, “Lay down on your back, bend your legs too.” He demanded.

You did just as he said, of course. Watching him get down to the right level, he threw your legs over his shoulder. His fingers danced around your entrance, sending pains to your stomach as the heat began to build. Your pussy was throbbing, craving for him to do something…literally anything. You weren't really an impatient person, but you just craved him. “Can you please do something Mun-”

You were cut off by him licking your cunt, tasting you from bottom to top. Sending you to throw your head back letting out a soft moan. Using his pointer and middle he spread your lips open even more, sticking his tongue into your core. Your hands reached between your own legs to his hair, yanking and pulling at his roots. “We’ll see if youre so hard to please…” He groaned into your pussy, the vibrations from his voice causing that heat to build even more in the pit of your stomach.

Eddie put his lips around your throbbing clit, while locking eyes with you. Your back pressed harder against the bed, he continued to lick and suck on your cunt, randomly pulling up to plant kisses on the inner thighs. His ringed hand rubbing up and down your thigh as the free fingers finds its way to your core again. His lips stayed on your clit as his fingers fucked your tight hole, his tongue dancing around your clit in circular motions. That intense feeling in the pit of your stomach gets warmer and warmer. “Eddie fuck!” You moan out, trying to catch your breath while he hasn't eased up one bit. “Are you already getting close sweetheart?” He whined as he pulled up from your pussy, removing his fingers from your center, “God, youre so fucking wet…” His hand reached up to your mouth, “Open for me…” His fingers that are covered in your juices enter your mouth, you take them deep, nearly down your throat.

He pushes your legs from his shoulders and plants them down to the bed, spreading your legs open further. Making his access to your pussy easier. “You can only cum when I tell you to, okay?” He says as he gets back down to your level, maintaining that intense eye contact still.

You nod, “O-Okay.” His tongue meets your core, in and out, circular motions, he then licks all the way up your cunt again taking in all your taste and juices. The feeling was incredible. He definitely knew how to use his tongue. He sucks on your bulging and throbbing clit again, using his pointer and middle to pound your hole again. Pumping them in and out. His free hand moved to your hip pushing you down deeper into the bed, the cold metal from his rings against the warmth of your skin. You were getting close, but he hasn't told you yet.

“Are you close, princess?” He moaned as he came up to catch his breath, how in the fuck did he know. “If you're close…you can cum.”

He didnt have to say anymore, “Eddie, fuck.” You cursed out as your head flung back, your chest rising up and down faster and faster. That warm pit in your stomach is nearly on fire. His fingers got faster and faster as they pounded into your core, “Cum for me baby…” he groans, your legs start to shake as an even more intense orgasm builds.

Then you did exactly what he said. As it snapped, you screamed, Eddie pulling his thick fingers from inside you, still pushing against your clit, a hard stream gushing forth. After a few moments, you are still shaken by the sensation. As his digits plunge into your dripping pussy,a few curses and moans of his name escape your lips, he pumps in and out a few more times before pulling them out and watching you squirt again.

“Fuck Y/N.”

“Shit Eddie, I am so fucking sorry.”

“No, I dont give a fuck about that.” His tongue licks off the excess cum dripping from your warm cunt. “That was fucking hot.”

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You leaned down to his level planting a sloppy kiss on his lips. “Then let’s finish this tattoo.”

“Another round once I'm done?”

if you enjoyed please consider commenting or reblogging, it makes a huge difference ♡

#.paige writes ✎*ೃ˚#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson blurb #tattoo artist!eddie munson #.eddie ♡

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b1mbodoll · 8 months

Note

i am so taerae fat cock enthusiast and i cant stop thinking about taerae stretching you around his cock when youre sleeping beside him 😵‍💫 you already said he wouldn't fit bcs hes so big so you didnt let him fuck you but youre so cute n innocent he cant help pulling your panties to the side and making it fit </3 he would quite literally split you in half fucking you so so good (๑>◡<๑) he would be so deep inside you too! all u can do is lay there and cry! but dont worry he'll press sweet sweet kisses on your face when he's finished emptying his cum in you <3 hopefully you dont get pregnant! youre not on the pill ♡♡♡♡♡

from 🎀 anonie!

also how have you been? i hope todays been treating you well! i caught covid so TT i dont know how active ill be but take care of yourself and be hydrated baby! 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

pairings: kim taerae x f! reader

warnings: virgin killer taerae + noncon + blood + anal + gaping + creampies + spit

💌: hi sweetpea im so sorry for the late reply again T_T but thank u for this, im crying !! also i know ur feelin’ better n not sick anymore so stay safe and healthy my love !!! i miss u </3

“fuck this pussy’s so tight,” taerae whispers, trying to bully his thick length into your cunt.

it’s always a struggle working his dick into virgin holes but it’s so worth it when he succeeds, pushing through your hymen and watching the blood leak down his girthy dick. the feeling of your tight walls without a condom in the way making taerae fuck into you harshly, forcing the rest of his length inside of you.

“taerae s-stop!” your voice is strained, pain coursing through you at the intrusion. “’s too big! pull it out please!” your cries do nothing but spur him on, grinding his hips experimentally.

“don’t worry, princess. i’ll make it fit” he grunts, tangling his fingers in your hair and forcing your cheek into the bed as he fucks away your virginity, slick sounds caused by a mixture of your arousal and blood filling the room.

“hurts! it hurts,” you cry, “please stop.” despite your complaints you clench around him so tight and it’s almost like your sweet cunt doesn’t wanna part with his cock, making him grin wickedly.

“you keep sayin’ it hurts but you’re so wet, baby” he teases, pulling out until just the tip is inside of you before thrusting forward quickly, making your breath hitch. “you like the pain, don’t you?” taerae’s so fucking mean it makes you sob pitifully, almost making him ease up.

once you get used to the feeling of his cock punching your cervix you can’t help but moan at the feeling and your sounds don’t go unnoticed by him, his eyes locked on your cunt sucking him in nicely.

“‘m gonna cum!” you exclaim, squeezing your eyes shut because the pleasure is so overwhelming and you can’t stop yourself from meeting his thrusts, high pitched mewls escaping you every now and then.

one of taerae’s hands finds your waist, fingers digging into your soft skin as he chases his release, slamming his hips into yours.

“please, please, please.” you beg, pussy spasming around him when your orgasm hits, tight cunt milking him for all he’s worth, warm cum coating your walls as he empties his balls deep inside your little cunt.

“you’re sick for cumming on my cock after all that cryin’” he sneers, pulling out and using his hands to spread your hole, watching his cum drip out of you. he’s obsessed with how you shamelessy present for him, back arching as he toys with your hole, drawing a sigh of relief from you when he uses two digits to fuck his cum back inside of you.

“aw sweetheart.” coos taerae, “you didn’t think we were done, did you?” his voice is laced with faux sympathy as you try to collect yourself. your brows furrow in confusion at his words, “huh?”

he curls his fingers inside your cunt, cum leaking down his wrist. “finally get the chance t’fuck you ‘n you think ‘m stoppin’ after one round?” his laugh makes you feel dumb, as if you were supposed to know he was going to continue violating your holes.

taerae fists his length with his cum covered hand, the tip prodding at the tight rim of your ass making you jolt. “please don’t!” you shudder, “anything but that, please.” he pushes the head in, groaning deeply because you’re so tight and spits on your hole, watching the saliva trickle between your asscheeks.

“shut the fuck up and take it.” his teeth are clenched, trying not to cum instantly when he pushes in to the hilt. “such a good cumdump f’r me, can’t believe you’ve never been fucked before.” the stretch burns and all you can do is take what he gives you, nearly screaming as you cum just from having your virgin ass fucked by his fat cock.

#♡.signed. sealed. delivered.#♡.the honeypot #♡.sweetheart: 🎀#zb1 #zerobaseone #kim taerae #zb1 x reader #zb1 smut #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone smut #kim taerae x reader #kim taerae smut #💌.noncon #💌.anal #💌.creampies #💌.spit #💌.gaping #💌.blood

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tiedyeflannels · 5 months

Note

Hiiii it’s me again 🫣, hope you’re doing amazing!!! I am sure you seen the recent live lol of jungkook, Rm, V and Jimin could you possibly write something about it again for Jungkook like maybe they all do the live together like an 8th member of bts and her and Jungkook are just really cuddly u know and jungkook just holding the whole time idk if that makes sense but I am sure you can write something whatever that is good and your comfortable with sorry thing is long. THANK YOU!!! 💗💗

Hi again! Sorry for taking forever to respond to your request, finals were a pain! Ugh... Anyway, I hope you're doing well too and thank you for your request! I made Y/n a producer instead of an 8th member because I wasn't sure how to spin it, so hopefully you like it. I also added, kind of like, a bonus scene because I was sad watching that Bangtan Bomb... Anywho, I hope you enjoy it! <3

Right Here

Jungkook x producer!reader

Word count: 2k

Masterlist

“Y/n-ah!” The guys collectively exclaimed.

I happily waved at them while softly shutting the door behind me.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late, I was in a meeting when Namjoon texted me about this live,” I said, placing my bag on a chair that was next to the wall of tables.

I walked into frame and waved at the ARMYs watching. “Hi guys! How are you?”

“We’re good,” Jimin said in a high-pitched voice.

I looked back at him.

“Oh, are you the voice of ARMY now,” I teased.

He smiled and nodded his head triumphantly. I giggled and moved over to the couch, but not before grabbing a slice of pizza.

I took a bite of my slice of pizza and plopped down next to Jungkook. They kept talking while I finished up my slice, throwing the crust on the empty pan and dust off the crumbs from my hands.

I looked around at the guys when my eyes landed on Jungkook, who was already looking at me. I leaned forward and narrowed my eyes at him for a moment before leaning back.

I smiled at him, “Why are you staring-”

I didn’t get the chance to finish my sentence when he tackled me into a hug making us fall back.

I hugged him back as I laughed, “Did you seriously wait until I was done with my slice so you could hug me?”

I didn’t get a verbal answer, but when he hugged me tighter, I knew what the answer was.

As the rest of the members got closer to their enlistment date, things had taken a melancholy turn and it affected each one of them, especially Jungkook, even if they didn’t show it.

I knew.

ARMY knew.

But there weren't a whole lot of things we could do in order to make them feel better about leaving.

So as I realized that this impromptu cuddle session wouldn’t be over for a while, I made sure we were both a little more comfortable by moving us to sit against the back of the couch so we wouldn’t be laying down the entire time.

It took a bit for him to get settled in a way that was comfortable for both of us, but he ultimately chose to be a koala. His head was resting on my right shoulder while his arms were tightly wrapped around my torso and his right leg was draped across my own.

There wasn’t much I could do with the way he was holding me, so I just wrapped my right arm around his back in a semi-awkward half hug and rested my left hand on the leg that was draped across me, slowly drawing shapes while I watched the others talk.

It couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes before the guys started to get up to say their “goodbyes” to ARMY. I tried to move to get up, but Jungkook tightened his hold on me as soon as I moved an arm. I sighed knowing it would be a miracle to get him off of me by myself, so I looked over at Jimin, silently asking for his help.

He smiled at my predicament and walked over, grabbing one of Jungkook’s arms and gently tugged, “Come on. We gotta say bye to ARMY.”

“Noooooo,” he drew out as the arm that was around me tightened its grip once more, practically forcing Jimin to pry him off of me.

“Dude, you need to get off of me in order to say bye to ARMY,” I exclaimed as I wiggled my way out of his grasp.

He huffed as we both finally stood up, obviously not liking that our cuddle session was interrupted. I smiled at his pouty face and patted his head as the others were deciding how they wanted to say bye.

Taehyung grabbed the camera, pointing it at Jimin as he said bye to ARMY and ended by bowing slightly.

Tae, then, turned the camera over to Namjoon who also said his final words with a salute, promising to “go and come back safely”.

“Ok, Jk, you can go.”

“No, I’ll end it,” he said while taking off his hood.

The others were quick to oppose the idea.

“Why doesn’t Y/n say her final words and then I go and you can run in front and then we’ll end it.”

There were nods of agreement and when they turned to me I shrugged, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not.”

“So, I can end it,” Tae asked and we all nodded.

He was still holding the camera and motioned for me to say my piece. I walked into frame and waved.

“ARMY~ I’ll make sure to go live whenever I can to keep you company before Jin comes back! The guys will be back before you know it! Stay strong,” I said, blowing a kiss to them with both hands before waving ‘bye’.

I looked at Taehyung, “Do you want me to hold the camera for you?”

He shook his head.

“No, Jimin can hold it for me. You, stand over there,” he said as he pointed to the side opposite of where Namjoon and Jungkook were standing.

He continued, “and turn around since you haven’t seen Jk’s hair yet either.”

I huffed, but did what I was told by walking to the left and turning around so I was facing the wall while Jimin took the camera from Tae, so he could say bye.

“You need to run, ok?”

“As soon as you end-”

“Can you guys just go already,” I exclaimed, hoping to move this train along.

Taehyung gave his little speech, though I’ll have to disagree with Namjoon, who said it was “too long” because mine was about the same length.

I heard a lot of shuffling behind me and was about to turn around to see why it was taking so long when a very slurred “We were BTS” sounded through the air before someone collided with my back, making me stumble forward as pair of arms wrapped around me, keeping me from falling.

The guys were laughing at the scene as they said their final “bye’s” before turning off the live.

“You can turn around now,” Jungkook said, loosening his hold on me enough for me to move, but not removing his arms completely.

As I turned around to face him I was not prepared for what I saw. My jaw dropped as I looked at Jungkook’s hair which was now completely buzzed off.

“Woah,” I exclaimed, placing my hands on either side of his head, turning it side to side in order to get a better look.

I started to become confused. Jungkook chuckled, grabbing both of my wrists to stop me from moving his head so he could look at me.

“What’s with that face?”

“How do you still look good?!”

Everyone started laughing again.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

It was December 12th and Hobi, Yoongi, and I were currently seeing Jimin and Jungkook off to start their military service.

“Well, luckily, this is the last time we’re going to have to do this,” Yoongi said, stuffing his hand further into his jacket.

I nodded my head in silent agreement and walked over to where Jimin and Jungkook had finished talking with some of their friends. They turned to look at me as I got where they were and grabbed their hands in both of mine, switching my gaze between the two.

“How are you guys feeling,” I asked to try and break the tension that was starting to form as time got closer to when they were supposed to leave.

They both shrugged.

I sighed.

“You’re going to be fine. I talked to Jin this morning and made him promise to keep an eye on you and make sure you’re okay, though… he did say that he might make training a bit harder for you two,” I teased.

That got some chuckles out of them, which I was very happy about. It didn’t last long before the heavy air settled around us once again, so I mustered as much of an encouraging smile as I could and said, “You two are going to do great. I’ll have my phone on me at all times whenever you get phone privileges back and want to talk to me, okay?”

They nodded as I continued, “Stay safe and healthy and warm because it’s starting to get chilly, okay?”

They nodded once more.

I looked at them as they looked at me expectedly.

“What? That’s all I’ve got,” I said.

Jungkook laughed as Jimin shook his head with a smile forming on his face.

Jungkook looked over at Jimin, “Would you mind giving us a sec?”

The latter nodded, “Of course, I’ve gotta go talk with Hobi hyung before send off, so I’ll see you later Y/n.”

I nodded and gave him a tight hug.

“Be careful. Stay safe and make sure to eat. Call me if you need anything and I mean ANYTHING, okay,” I whispered before breaking the hug.

“You got it,” he said before pulling me back in for one last hug.

“I’m gonna miss you, Chim. I’ll see you when you come back.”

We both nodded at each other in conformation as he started toward where Hobi and Yoongi were standing.

I moved to stand next to Jungkook as we watched them talk.

“So, what are you going to do in the meantime,” Jungkook spoke up.

I turned to look at him as he did the same.

“Probably work on some songs for your guys’ comeback with Yoongi. He said that he already has some that he wants me to look at later today, so yeah,” I shrugged.

He hummed in response before pulling me into a hug. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel like crying at that moment. We had talked about him leaving all the time as the date came closer and every time Jungkook was the one who comforted me when I started crying, but I wanted to be strong for him and at least give him some sense of comfort on the day it really mattered so I controlled my emotions.

“Sorry I have to leave you,” he whispered.

He is not making this easy, huh?

I shook my head and held him tighter, “It is not your fault. Nobody will ever blame you for something you have to do. Especially not me.”

I pulled back and cupped his face in my hands.

“You just need to make sure that you don’t overdo anything. I don’t want to get a call from Jin or Jimin saying that you overdid something that landed you in the infirmary, got it,” I teased as he nodded.

“I love you a lot. We all do. So please make sure to be safe while you’re gone, okay,” I asked.

He huffed but untimely nodded again. “You’re starting to sound like my mom,” he muttered.

I laughed at the statement.

“Good, because she’s right!”

There was some loud shuffling behind me, so I turned around to see Yoongi, Hobi, and Jimin standing in front of us.

“Okay, lovebirds, it’s almost time to go,” Yoongi said.

I playfully rolled my eyes as a smile made its way onto my lips. I turned back to Jungkook and placed a quick peck on his cheek.

“One for the road,” I said as I moved away from him.

“You guys should get going before you’re late,” Hobi spoke up.

They nodded as they fixed their backpack straps and picked up the duffle bag at their feet. I gave them both a once over.

“Take care of each other.”

They hummed as they started to leave. As we were watching them walk away, Jungkook suddenly turned back to us.

“Y/n/n!”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll be here when we get out, right?”

I nodded, “Of course! I’ll be right here when you come back!”

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jk x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader

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softcitrus2345 · 3 months

Note

Hii!! This is the first time I have ever reached out to someone in this community because I am very scared of being 'found out' and I find it hard to accept myself for what I like 😓 But your account feels very safe, and ur art is so gorgeous bsjsbdj!!!. I read ur tips from a while ago about how to start an account and I would rlly like to share my art out there and connect with likeminded people, and present all my ocs to the world that I have hidden in a folder on my procreate HELP. If this isn't too personal of a question, do u have an tips on self acceptance when it comes to this niche?

Oh man, I totally feel you there, I'll do my best to help ya out!

I completely understand the struggle with self-acceptance with this niche, so many spaces both in the internet and real life have stigmatized this kind of niche and made it out to be something disgusting and perverted, and something to be ashamed about..

I struggled for years with myself, feeling guilty for being into these sorts of things, and for "tainting" my characters with these thoughts, and the occasional drawing I would make in a notebook and promptly rip out and hide somewhere out of shame-

It took me a long time to finally understand why I felt the way I did, and what specific things about this niche appealed to me.

The thing that has helped me the most with the self-acceptance aspect is having a sense of community. Whether it be with just one person, or with a small group, having other people with similar interests that you can talk to and feel comfortable with helps a ton.

Around the same time last year was when I started to get more comfortable with this niche. I joined the server of an artist who's chonky art I really liked, and I got to meet new people and explore that part of myself more. But the best thing for me was finding out that one of my closest friends was also into the same things I was. It was just such a huge sense of relief when I found out, and once I started talking with her about it and sharing ideas back and forth, it became a lot easier to talk about, and it helped me get a lot more comfortable engaging with these interests of mine. A few months later, I found another one of my friends also liked this stuff, and then a few more months later, I found even MORE of my already close friends were into this

I guess the universe was just on my side, I'm so fortunate to have such kind and understanding friends that I can share this stuff with, and explore my interests with

Without them, this account wouldn't exist, and I wouldn't be making this kind of art that I share here, so I will always be grateful for that.

The best advice I can offer you is to find that sense of safety and community, whether it just be one person or several

Joining servers of artists who's work you enjoy is always a good way to meet new people, as well as interacting with artists you admire or other people in the community!

It's never easy to start, and don't get me wrong, I still do struggle with this stuff on and off, but I promise you it does get easier. Try to be kind to yourself

Think of it this way. It's SUPER normalized in society to be into like. Buff guys, or big boobies or butts or whatever, right?? Well being attracted to fat can also be seen that way if you really think about it-

Not saying that fat people should always be objectified in that way but I'm just trying to put that into perspective-

Hopefully that makes sense lol

Also, I am so glad to hear that you can find comfort and a sense of safety in this blog, because that's exactly my intention to have a safe space for people to explore their interests without fear of outside judgement

It means the world to me that you like my art so much and that you felt comfortable asking a tough question like that. I hope my advice can bring you some hope and clarity involving your situation 💖

I sincerely wish you the best, anon, I hope you can find the confidence to share your art with the world someday! I'd love to hear your ideas and see what kind of stuff you put out there!

#softcitrus asks #niche blog #weight gain #I would've had this posted since last night but Tumblr decided to nerf the whole thing as I was putting the tags in #So I rewrote the whole thing 💀#Honestly I iked the first pass more but I really wanted to answer this one so here it is TTuTT #I was being totally serious btw #If you're the anon that sent this #I'd genuinely love to see your art #If you ever end up posting it please share it with me somehow cause I love supporting this community 💖💖

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joelletwo · 2 months

Text

apropos of aaaabsolutely nothing happy EST wound fucking wednesday. this post is just for that one reader

[ID: rendered robots franchise fanart of oppie and megs (the recent cartoon for kids iteration of them) stradding each other mid-wrestle. they both show wear and tear. megs, scowling, is punching op's grille-abdomen, warping the metal, other hand gripping his shoulder to pull him down into the hit and falling backwards a bit with the momentum himself. oppie, frowning deepy or grimacing, has one hand gripping megs' thigh and the other on one of his shoulder spikes to keep him from being able to maneuver or escape. he reels back with the punch but still rests stably on splayed-out knees, one slid under megs, adding to megs' unbalance and making him kick out his own leg that oppie straddles.]

pre-canon war stuffs........................ that can at least exist in my mind palace of Not Really Knowing Jack Shit

ONE good turn deserves another i would say...... meaning a big trip thru the lb tab collecting a folder of relevant unconscionable violence vibes i didnt even get to use all of*/push as far as i could have. and then a lot of time doing chain-licking meditations on big blocky 3d shapes. and then a lot of time wrestling with that one csp 3d model pose set. WELL. when i saw what u were sketching the other day i lost my fucking mind trying not to say anything kjsdfg so hopefully good sign this will be received well o7 <22

*my dreams of putting tfs in clothes was not an appropriate venture for first times drawing tfs. YET

+ just the lines bc good lord i drew so many details on Those Things. looking at other ppls art styles. i didnt even have to do that i dont even need to feel bad abt the bits that broke my spacial understanding no one is doing 1:1 replicas. but it was kind of nicely meditative to whittle away at actually i enjoyed it

[ID: same pic, colors and shading removed to show oppies lineart was a bright blue and megs' a bright orange]

things i gained a heightened appreciation for in this venture: the way that megs' pelvis design elements look like he has a jacket tied around his waist. CUTE. his BIIIIIG fucking boots i didnt get to show off. his faaaaaaaace chiseling. oppies 1:1 accuracy little windshield wipers. difference in frame between them (most of the robots seem to have narrow waists but i like that i can accurately draw megs still a little Built there. fun!) the joiiiiinnnnntt articulation logic on these guys is so neat kudos to. franchise full of robot designers that are extra incentivized to make them at least somewhat real-world workable.

+ honorable mention: THEYRE SO WIIIIIIIIIIIIIDE. taking up the entire 4:3 frame space in episodes. throwing out half the oversketch notes i took of the csp models bc they simply did not matter and would not be visible underneath both of these guys blocking each other kjghsdf

anyways. to say. HAPPY TO BLOG AT THE SAME TIME AS YOUUUUUUUUUU and heres to another year of getting to know the most delightful wonderful realm of things and ways to get weird with things thru it vicariously and firsthand. dearly beloved blogging bestie who i hope has a nice day ^_^!!!!

#art tag #drafts this post up a couple hours beforehand so i have it ready to post then has to psych myself up into hitting post bwbfb <22;;;

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winterwhisperz-blog · 11 months

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Hi, I really like your blog. I recently just found it, and I was wondering if you could do a part 2 of TouchStarved Characters reacting to MC, drawing themselves. Especially with Vere. Skip if you want to, anyway. Have a nice day. And make sure to eat, sleep, and drink some water.

HI HI !!! I am, so sorry for taking forever, I’ve still been in a huge writing slump )): BUT

I HAVE finally triumphed !! Thank you so much for the ask <333 I’m rlly happy u like my blog !! And I hope you have a nice day too !

Now les get into it !!

Leander, Mhin, And Vere Reacting to Mc Drawing them (a Sequel)

Warnings: Vere is flirty, a person gets snatched away in Vere’s too, (it’s played in comedic effect but just in case) maybe OOC

Notes: GN Mc, Fluff

Vere

ALR ALR ALR so, as we know, Vere draws. So having you two be like, drawing pals/couple ??? Muah muah

But I think it’d be really really funny, if he didn’t find out until you guys walk by a wanted poster—you both know who the subject is, but OMG THEY DO N O T look like that 🤨 also the lines??? So messy— effort ??? None

Determined to correct them, you stomp away, on the lookout to find the Wanted.

You find them waltzing out of a brothel, which is where you and Vere jump em.

Letting out a screech, (either that screech being from you or the Wanted that’s up to you. Could be a battle cry idk) you stuff them in a bag before quickly running off.

Vere of course, has no idea why you WANTED this random person, but he definitely wasn’t going to object to doing a crime with you <33

Plopping the Wanted into your room, you dramatically whisk off the bag, revealing a very frightened, and now hostile fellow.

“MC?? I thought we were FRIENDS, why the hell are you turning me in?”

You shush them, settling down in front, butter-fly legs as you slam open your sketchbook.

“I’m not turning you in, I’m redrawing your wanted poster.”

….

…..

“….What?”

“Vere, keep ‘em still!”

“Yes, darling~”

Your partner in crime does just that, and with your combined efforts, you successfully redraw the wanted poster. Now, it being far more accurate.

Which uhhh, did result in the fellow being captured, BUT— that’s not the point.

The point is, Vere now knows you can draw. And very well he might add!! Despite if your style is realistic or not, the wanted poster was STELLAR

And now as you’re back in your room, duty done, Vere droops himself seductively across the floor, any remaining sunlight catching the pink of his eyes and red of his hair.

“…what are you doing?”

“It’s my turn now,”

You raise a brow, “You want me to draw you a wanted poster?”

He rolls his eyes, running a hand through his long hair. “No, dummy. You can’t keep a secret like this from me and not use me as your new muse.”

“I wasn’t keeping it a secret—“

“Go on, i can’t stay in this position all day.”

Sighing, you kneel down, getting to work. “What am I going to do with you?”

Vere hums, and you know a flirt is coming before he says it. “Oh, MC, I have a list of things you can do with me~”

“Hopefully starting with throwing you in horny jail.”

“Rude.”

You snicker, returning to delicately sketching the details of Vere into the paper.

You draw the playful lift of his lips, the needle like pupils, and the deeper, maybe even rare soft side that he hides beneath flirts and cool remarks.

Once you’re done, Vere leans over your shoulder, humming his approval. A part of him, is both touched and uncomfortable how you managed to capture a side of him he didn’t commonly show.

After this, the two of you would often take turns drawing each other.

Leander

ALR ALR SO, WE ALL KNOW Eridia is like, dreary and cloudy all the time—and to set the scene—it’s storming—walls of rain slash against the roof of the Wet Wick (dang-it rlly be wet now. UHHH pls don’t hate me for that joke 😚)

The bloodhounds had been out doing jobs, leaving you with far less people to greet when walking downstairs.

Leander sits by the counter, large figure shadowed by the darkness cast by the storm. His eyes glowing eerily green in the shade, especially since he looks so deep in thought. His brows lightly furrow, his lips hinting at a frown.

You feel awfully like you’ve spotted something you weren’t supposed to. Especially since…there’s actually no one else around. You hear the faint snores of any other none-bloodhounds occupants still in their rooms, but otherwise it’s hushed against the drum of thunder.

Afraid of breaking some kind of spell, you stay where you are—though, you do tilt your head, taking in every angle of the scene in front of you.

…dang this would make a pretty cool sketch

Like a hesitant deer, you take quiet steps back up the stairs before returning, just as quietly with your sketchbook and pencils.

Though uhhh, Leander is no longer where you left him.

Curious, you take the rest of the steps down before searching the dark. Your only company being the crashing and howling of the outside storm—

“Good morning, MC!”

Out of pure terror, you scream and swing the sketchbook at the voice.

You’re greeted with low laughter and glittering green eyes as Leander reaches for the book, gently taking it from your hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright, MC? Did the storm wake you?”

You shake your head, a little thrown by the shift in tone—from laughter to genuine concern. You take your sketchbook back, but not until he’s caught interest.

“You draw?”

“How did you know it was a sketchbook?”

“I caught a glimpse when you whacked me.”

He laughs again, the deep sound nearly matching the thunder above. You feel oddly light when hearing it, though it sends a chill down your back.

For a distraction, you glance outside, the flash of lightning sparking worry into your chest.

“Will the bloodhounds be okay out there?”

Leander frowns, looking a bit confused, perhaps a little irritated before his smile quickly returns to his face. “Oh, they’ll be fine. You can’t live in Eridia without expecting storms.”

And before you can say more, he gestures to the sketchbook.

“What were you thinking of drawing?”

Ah, right. You shift on your feet, feeling a little awkward. You’ve asked to draw people before, and uhhh, with a few different reactions. Some thought it was weird, others annoyingly prodded at you to draw them before you even asked, (then changed your mind) and others kept whatever drawings you did like treasure.

You can’t guess how Leander will react to the question, but you end up asking anyway.

He receives the request with a bit of fluster, a flirt or two, before asking how you want him to pose. You decide you want to capture the moment you saw before—him standing in the dark like some kind of gothic statue, hoping you can somehow sketch in the magic and eerie wonder he had emitted.

Once you were finished, he definitely showed the picture to everyone he could—boasting at how talented you were…and how you chose him for a muse.

Mhin

ALR ALR, to balance out how kinda creepy Leander’s was 🧍🏻‍♀️ like man was just standing there in the dark like a WEIRDO—I wanted to do something cuter with Mhin’s.

So so so, this is for Mhin’s birthday. You know they like sweets, but wonder if they would appreciate a portrait instead

You’ve sketched them before, when they’ve taken care of the stray cats, when they’ve sat beside you in silence, just enjoying your company—but you wanted to make this special

So, after finding them after a little merry soulless hunt, you two get started on your little birthday plan. Mhin, to actually convince them to join you, Is completely unaware of said plan.

You just give excuse after excuse, like how starving you are and how you’re only craving their favorite type of cookies, how you want to explore the city and conveniently wind up where the stars are most visible, and you have NO idea how this romantically set table even came from?? 😮

Eventually, they do understand what’s going on, and look away, arms folded.

“I told you we didn’t have to celebrate.”

“We didn’t have to, but I wanted to~”

They roll their eyes, but like always, you can spot that flush of pink coating their cheeks.

After dinner, you pat a spot next to you, and when Mhin sits down, you stare up at the stars above. Millions blinking down at the pair of you between thin, grey clouds.

Mhin gets absorbed in the sight soon enough, occasionally pointing out constellations and then rambling about them.

Giving you just enough time to get out your sketchbook and get to work. While ofc still listening, because you always do. Hearing Mhin nerd out about stars is one of your favorite things.

The night is cold, biting at your nose, but it doesn’t bother you. Especially when you feel a warm cloak wrapped around your shoulders.

You look up from your book to see Mhin settling back down, ponytail and white shirt now exposed to the night air. They raise a knee and shrug. “Don’t look at me like that, you looked cold.”

Smiling, you pull them closer, reaching out the cloak so it covers you both. “Thank you, you big softy.”

You hear them grumble, but also don’t ignore how they lean into your side. After awhile, they glance at what you’re sketching, face growing confused as they start to recognize the person in the drawing.

“What is—“

You let them take the book, their eyes wandering over every detail so carefully thought out and drawn in with every pencil stroke.

Them in the portrait sit, gaze watching the sky with a wonder you’ve had the honor to see. Their mouth is open, talking about things that are more beautiful thanks to how they explained them. A little beauty mark seated by their lips.

After a few moments of silence, you lean your head on their shoulder(or head if ur tall), finding comfort in the warmth of the shared cloak.

“Happy birthday, Mhin.”

They didn’t say much, but you can see the appreciation in their eyes. How they look at your drawing with the same amazement as they looked at the sky.

Forever wondering why you’d use this talent to draw them.

Maybe celebrating their birthday wasn’t so bad after all. (Especially if they get to spend it with you <3333)

ALR ALR WE HAVE REACHED THE END

Tysm for the ask!! Again, I’m so sorry for the wait.

Anyway, I hope you have an amazing day, stay cool and hydrated, see three heart shaped things in nature, and watch/read your favorite show/movie/book !!

#answered asks #thanks for the ask!#leander #mhin #vere #touchstarved game #touchstarved x reader #touchstarved #virtual novel

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aritamargarita · 5 months

Text

ATTITUDE (… CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!!)

I feel very motivated. Yes it’s 5 am

It’s December now……..originally wasn’t gonna consider this canon but it is. We’re cooking again. WE DRAW CLOSER TO 2002!!!!!!! its december 24th 2001 in story!!!

this one’s a quick one since it’s just a one off chrystler chapter.

hopefully it’ll hold u guys for just a LIITTLEEE longer while i work on other things too. by the way when i rewatched the eggnog match, it was so fast it actually made me mad LMAO, well not much you can do there anyway so i tried improvising..?

‘TWAS THE RAW before Christmas and you’re sure there’s a lot of holiday cheer. You’re excited. What’s the night got in store?

You received a blue and red envelope in your locker today.

It’s painfully obvious they were invited to Smackdown and Raw’s Christmas parties, but you think it’s only because they want you to see what each brand had in store. They hadn’t started the draft yet, but you’re sure both General Managers had their eyes on a few picks…including you.

All you can hope is that the fans don’t get tired of you. It’s probably the only way you’d be allowed to be a free agent.

Before you can leave, your phone rings. You’re a little concerned, given that you’re at work and have never ever gotten a call. You’re about to enter the room, but you take a step back to quickly answer. “Hello?”

‘Hello, sweetie! How are you? Are you working?’

It’s your mother, and when hearing her voice, you sigh. “Hey, yes. I’m working. Is something wrong?”

‘No, no at all.’ It makes you sigh again, but this time in relief. ‘I watched one of your shows. That Jeff boy seems very nice. I’d like if you bring him home for Christmas!’

Oh, that’s not…

It takes you a moment to respond. “What? Why?”

‘He just seems sweet! That is a pure-hearted boy, and you seem to care for him enough. I’ll be expecting you two love birds.’ She says. ‘That is if you’re able to come home.’

“I’m not sure. I think I might, but only for a day. The next Raw doesn’t get taped until…well, next year. In January. I forgot when Smackdown was.”

‘I hope you do. We miss you very much. Give what I said some thought! I won’t bother you anymore. I love you!’

“Love you too. Bye bye.” And you hang up. You don’t think you’ll ever tell anyone what she said. You probably wouldn’t hear the end of it!

You take a deep breath and shake it off. As you walk through the door, you’re greeted by a camera and…Pat Patterson and Gerald Brisco in elf outfits.

Wow, what a party Mr. McMahon has hosted…

Speaking of him, he was already at the door once he opened it. “I totally wasn’t listening to your conversation,” He clarified. You roll your eyes. But your boss is thrilled to see you, outstretching his arms.

“You’re the star of the night! I assure you, you’ve chosen the right party. You’re going to love it here.”

He tries going in for a hug, but you don’t react. Instead, he awkwardly reaches his hand out, and you shake it hesitantly. This is still your boss, after all.

“Everybody give a warm welcome to [Name]!” Vince announced. Great, now everyone’s staring.

You give a small wave as everyone in the room soundly greets you. Some of these people look familiar. Billy and Chuck, Terri, Christian, The Dudley Boyz….

And then there’s Stacy. Your eyes brighten once you see her in the room. She’s the only one you know well. She’s also excited to see you, hopping off of (who you can assume is) Bubba’s lap.

“[Name]! You came!”

“Hi.” You wave. “You look nice.”

Your voice is dry, which makes Stacy pout in return. However, your compliment puts her at ease. “Thanks!”

She then takes her hand and pulls on your shirt. “What’s with this? I thought you’d be all dressed up! It’s about to be Christmas! You dressed up when we were in WCW, remember?”

You do. It’s not because you wanted to, either. You didn’t really have a choice. Management wanted all the girls to come out in their little cute Santa’s helper costumes, and the moment you complained about it, you were told that you could just go for the day…and not be on TV.

You shake your head. “I’d rather just wear my regular clothes. Now, you may ask why again. The answer…is because I can. “To you, that reason was as good as any.

“Ugh, come on.” She whines. “I wanted to see you in something nice. I think the crowd would love it, too!”

There lies the problem. You scoff. “As if I’m showing any kind of skin in this landfill of a place called Miami. Of all the states we have to be in, it’s Florida?! Gross..” Your words incite booing from the crowd, but it’s not like you can hear them anyway. “This place sucks. I saw a man wrestling an alligator outside.”

“You’re silly. You should take a load off.” Stacy grins. Little did she know, you were dead serious. And the man was WINNING! Incredible.

You figured there was no convincing Stacy. She must’ve thought you were crazy.....if she doesn’t already.

She takes her hand and pats your shoulder. “It’s okay, [Name]. Maybe you’re just a little hazy from excitement. You should have some fun with us!”

“I don’t think I can.” You decline. “I’ve got a segment soon. So, not for long. Whatever’s going on here, I’m happy to see we’re all getting along.”

“I’m taking that you like it here?” Vince cuts in, then motions towards the other wrestlers. “See all the star power in here. That could be you. You can be involved. You sign with SmackDown, I promise you you’ll see that and more.”

You will consider. You’re not entirely sure whether or not you want to be with either brand because they have pros and cons. The problem is, which one would you rather deal with?

“Right, um..” You hesitate for a second, and Vince immediately jumps on his chance.

“Well, why don’t you come over and drink some punch? If that’s not your thing, we’ve got a lot of options.” He holds up a bottle of sparkling cider.

Man, he’s really trying hard, huh?

The arrival of Booker T grabs his attention, and you slink away to Christian instead. “Hey! Been a while.”

Christian looks around before looking at you with a grin. (Something you know he did on purpose) “If it isn’t my favorite fan! How’s it going, tiny?”

It’s been a while since he’s even called you that nickname, and it still does NOT hold true. You swear to god it’s not true. “I have definitely been fine! Just hanging in there.”

“I dunno, what you did at Vengeance was completely nuts. Are you sure you’re just hanging in there? Not gonna do the same to me, are you?” He asks.

“No. I just want to relax today! I really do.” You admit. You’re tired, and you want some time to think. This party does nothing for your racing thoughts, but the least you could do was try and enjoy it before leaving.

Which was probably soon.

“I don’t mean to butt in at all,” Terri comes over to you and rubs your shoulder. “But are you doing alright? The last time I saw you was when you mistook me for Torrie. And you had a bit of a meltdown during Vengeance.”

Wow, you really did leave a mark. Everyone must know about your little stunt. You fight a smile. “I’m just fine. I got my anger out and everything. I’m totally not mad.”

That was a lie. You are still mad and are unsure how long it’ll last, but you are still upset at Torrie. You’re still upset at Jeff and Raven as well, but the difference is that you don’t think you’ll ever forgive her for what she’s done so far.

Terri was going to speak again, but Vince loudly called everyone to attention. “You guys! Listen up, I got a surprise.” The door opens, and you don’t believe your eyes. “Courtesy of Santa himself, Santa’s little helpers!”

….Wait a second, these aren’t elves. They’re women! Did he seriously invite strippers?

They’re fully clothed, but their dresses were so short you might as well consider it next to nothing. It’s not like you’re complaining per se, but jeez. Wasn’t this supposed to be a kid-friendly show?

Haha, as if. You chuckle to yourself a bit.

Vince is introducing them as Santa’s helpers indeed. He takes “Vixen’s” hand to lead her onto a table.

“Alright,” You don’t want to stay around for this. “You guys have a good night, okay? I think I’m cutting it close. I need to get out in the ring.”

“But I’ve got a lot to show you, [Name]. You can’t just leave yet!” Vince tried to convince you, but you shook your head.

“Really can’t. But I promise I’ll consider Smackdown.”

You have to quickly exit before he can say anymore, but you can’t deny that you’re excited to talk in the ring.

Did you expect anything less from Vince McMahon? No. Hopefully, Raw would fare better.

Well, you’ll see soon enough.

It’s your turn to go out there, and you were pretty amped up about it. Sure, it’s another show of Raw, but it’s Christmas Eve, and Santa should be out and about now!

You want to show the crowd and everyone at home how excited you are for Christmas. Today’s another episode of Time Out with [Name]!

Once your entrance music plays, you push back the curtains and head down the ramp. Thanks to your stunt at Vengeance, you got a lot of mixed reactions from the crowd.

Jerry is the first to point it out. ‘Well, she seems to be in a good mood, JR!’

‘She sure is. I’m not sure if we should be on guard or not. That woman is a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode.’

Thankfully, they had given you a mic before going out there. The moment you slid into the ring and were faced to face with thousands of people, you couldn’t help but fall into a laugh.

“Okay, I know what you guys are thinking,” You begin. “Vengeance may have gotten a little out of hand! I get it. But if you were in my shoes, you’d understand! Anyway, that’s not why I came here tonight.”

JR can only shake his head. ‘Well, I’m sure we’d all like to hear what’s going on in that mind of hers.’

“I have an extraordinary guest today..” You trail off. “In fact, you all know him very well! He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake! It’s Santa—“

The Rock’s music plays instead. He quickly storms down to the ring, and you’re actually shocked that he interrupted you like that. The crowd cheers so loudly that you can’t even hear your thoughts. You figured it was a given. You’re in Miami, after all.

You start to talk as soon as he starts climbing into the ring. “Um, excuse me? Rocky?” The little pet name you call him makes him raise that iconic eyebrow toward you. “I-I didn’t call for you. I was waiting for Santa. But you’re more than welcome to wait for him with me.”

He stares at you momentarily, then reaches over the ring for a mic. There’s still more silence, and as you await your response, you look at him expectantly.

“..No.” He finally says. “The Rock came here to share a very important message with the MILLIONS—and MILLIONS—of Rock’s fans.”

“I get that.” You say. “I’m all for it, but this is my show. Like, jeez, if you’re gonna interrupt Santa, at least let me ask you some questions.”

“You think Santa’s coming here?! Miami is hot as hell, the guy’s gonna melt!” He’s got a fair point. But it’s Christmas! Santa would make a way to get here one way or another. “[Name], The Rock came out here because he has a few questions for you. You’re going to want to hear this, sweetheart.”

You’d be almost flattered at the pet name if it wasn’t for the slight derisive tone behind it. You can’t deny your curiosity, though. “Oh, pray tell!”

“You and The Rock both hate Chris Jericho. You and The Rock also hate….Stephanie McMahon.” He says. It’s true. Very true! You hate both of them. “And because we share the same hatred, The Rock has gotten you a gift. Consider it a peace offering.”

How sweet! Can’t refuse presents. Maybe Santa could wait for a minute. Hopefully, Austin won’t get too angry that you’ve accepted this.

He reaches over the ropes to one of the stagehands, and he’s handed a neatly wrapped gift. It is handed off to you, and you’re already excited, ripping it open as fast as possible.

The camera zooms in on your gift, and it’s…

…a book with a red bull on the cover. You look at him in confusion before repeating the title for the crowd. “The Rock’s night before Christmas? Did you really just give me a book??”

The Rock ignores your comment, and the crowd laughs as he takes the book away from you.

“You sure are. Here, let The Rock help you,” He flips open the book to one of the pages. “Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even….a mouse.” He pauses for a moment. “The weather was warm, not a trace of snow, just as The Rock got ready to whoop Chris Jericho.”

You nod your head. The only reason why you’re playing along is because of the Jericho line.

But he teases you anyway. “…See, there you go. That’s how you read a book. Go on, try it.” He hands it back to you.

You clear your throat. Guess that’ll be a way to pass the time waiting for Santa. “Jericho claims to be the best. The Rock has found this quite brutal. Clearly, Chris Jericho is a man who has no strudel.”

Whatever that means. The crowd goes crazy, though.

You look over to The Rock, and he nods in approval. He makes a motion with his hands for you to keep going. “I am a living legend! Y2J would sing, trembling with fear as he heads into the peoples ring…and faster, faster than Scrooge, saw the ghost of Christmas past—“

The Rock cuts you off, finishing the rhyme once and for all. “The Rock hit the people’s ring and WHOOPED Y2J’S ASS!”

Wow! What a wonderful Christmas gift. Not.

You thought it was something useful. For all you care, he could’ve gifted you a chair. A brand new kendo stick. Maybe even a steel pole. Hell, you’d even take a pair of socks over this book.

“Not to sound ungrateful, but this is my gift? No joke?”

The Rock nodded. “Well?? Do you like it?”

Your silence told a million words. The moment you’re about to speak, you can’t help but laugh once more. It takes you a minute to pull it together.

“As much as I would love to rag on Jericho, and believe me, I would LOVE to rag on him, that’s not what I expected. It’s Santa. And in the spirit of Christmas, it just so happens I have a gift for the crowd, too.”

The crowd cheers, but you already know what they’re thinking. You point a finger upward. “No, it has nothing to do with me taking my clothes off!”

And just like that, the crowd begins to boo. Aw.

Just as you’re about to spill the deets about your Christmas gift, the familiar tune of Kurt Angle’s music plays. For the love of god, you just want Santa Claus!!

“Sorry, guys..” Kurt insincerely apologizes from the top of the ramp. “All this talk about Christmas makes me think about something. What is it that you said about Santa Claus? He sees you when you’re sleeping..he knows when you’re awake?”

You scoff at the mimicking of what you said earlier, but he continues. “Well, if you ask me, Saint Nick is a pervert! I’ll tell ya what, I hope Santa isn’t watching tonight because I plan on being very naughty.”

How dare he drag Santa’s name through the dirt like that? “You can’t say those things about Santa. Most importantly, you can’t just say you’ll be naughty! You’re the pervert!” You accuse.

“You’re the only one thinking that way, [Name]!” Kurt accused back. “And boy, I am glad you’re not stripping out here tonight. Now that’s a relief. This is supposed to be a kid-friendly show!” Yeah right.

“Are you sure about that?” You question. “Earlier, there was—“

He quickly cuts you off. “As a matter of fact, you or anyone else shouldn’t be idolizing Santa. There is someone far more powerful than he is, and it’s Vince McMahon. In fact, he got your Olympic hero a very special Christmas present.”

“Vince makes little kids cry at that sight of him!” You accuse. “You think they’d idolize him??”

You’re unsure if it is true, but he’s scary. You remember when he ran towards you and Trish during that one match. A literal nightmare. “What did you get? I bet it’s not better than mine!”

“Don’t you know?” As Kurt is speaking, you can hear the crowd chanting ‘asshole’ around you. It makes you giggle. “It’s—“

“Woah, woah, woah!” The Rock interrupts. “Please let them finish calling you an asshole!”

You seem exasperated that your show has been hijacked yet again, on Christmas Eve nonetheless. “Guys, there’s gotta be a way we can settle this. You know, somewhere else?”

“No, no, you’re gonna wanna hear this,” Kurt says. Both of them have said that, so that means that you won’t like it as much..

“That present is a shot at the undisputed title. That’s right, tonight is going to be a triple-threat match. The Rock versus Chris Jericho versus Kurt Angle. Ho, ho, ho, it’s true!”

You had brushed it off when she said it in passing, but Trish really had a point when she said that the men ruin everything. This was already cutting into your time.

Kurt seems to be confident, though. “And I tell you what, Rock, your chances at winning the title in front of these sleazy hometown losers just went slim to none!”

“Let me just say,” You decide to add. “That Stone Cold Steve Austin would wipe you two off the map! Uh, no offense, Rocky.” You say, gently setting a hand onto his bicep. “If Vince McMahon had any good in him, which I doubt, he would let Austin into that triple threat and make it a fatal four-way!”

The jeering quickly turns into cheers, and you bow to your fantastic suggestion.

“Oh, absolutely not!” Kurt yells. He decides to make his way down the ramp, and you start to feel like this isn’t ending well. “I got this fair and square. Stone Cold doesn’t deserve this as much as I do. There’s a reason why Vince put the Olympic Gold Medalist into action and not some trailer park trash.”

Ouch. You wince.

“Seeing as you came out here and interrupted [Name] ’s little show..” Finally, the recognition you deserve. “Just let The Rock finish his Christmas message and he’ll tell you exactly how he feels about this whole thing—“

The sound of holiday bells fills the arena, and you immediately shush The Rock, albeit ruder than you intended to be. “SHUT UP, SHUT UP!” You yell. “IT’S SANTA!”

Lo and behold, it’s Jolly Old Saint Nick himself. Santa’s holding a red sack, which is likely full of presents.

More than likely, it was merchandise, and Santa reached in and began tossing things into the crowd. You’re giving him a standing ovation.

The Rock looks at you as if you’re insane. Even Kurt, who had just begun climbing the ropes into the ring, shoots you a look as well.

“Look! It’s Santa!” You exclaim, pointing right at him. “He’s right there! I told you guys he was coming!”

After a minute of throwing things out into the crowd, Santa chucks his bag into the ring and clambers in. You immediately hold out your mic for him to take. You’ll grab another one, you don’t even care.

“Ho, ho, ho!” Santa bellowed. This is really happening in real time. You skip over to the ropes and reach for a new mic as he continues talking. “Have you wrestlers been good this year?!”

You make haste to grab a new microphone. “I have!” There’s a giggle in your voice. “I don’t know about them, but I’ve been the nicest!”

Kurt shakes his head. “I don’t think so! You beat up poor Stephanie McMahon just a few weeks ago!” He calls back to your handicap match, but in your defense, she started it.

“That wasn’t my fault. Stephanie was trying to interfere! She even interrupted my show!” You shoot back. “You know, like you two interrupted mine?!”

He’s still not swayed. “She’s a potential business partner! You can’t just do that to a potential business partner!” Kurt then gives you a sardonic grin. “Personally, I’m just making it better.”

“A potential business partner? HA! Maybe on the street!” You laugh. “I swear to god, I will—“

Santa immediately puts a stop to your petty bickering. “Friends! There’s no need to argue. I can see how good you are in your hearts!”

That was so real. You smile, but The Rock is shaking his head. He points a finger toward him. “So, Santa, you came to The Rock’s hometown of Miami…..all the way from the North Pole? The Rock isn’t sure if he believes that.”

“What do you mean you don’t believe it?! He’s Santa!” You motion towards him.

Kurt doesn’t believe it either. “Yeah, right. I hate to agree with him, but look at him!”

All three of you turn to look at Santa at the same time. You personally see nothing wrong with him. “What’s the deal? This is definitely Santa.”

“…Well, [Name], whatd’ya want for Christmas?” Santa asks.

“See! How else would he know my name if he wasn’t Santa?” You question. You take a second to think about what you want, then bring the mic up so you can talk.

As soon as you’re about to speak, Santa Claus stands up and cuts you off. “Aht, aht, aht!” He waves a finger. “That was a test. Never tell your wish! Fret not, Santa knows all. Perhaps you’ll get what you want this year!”

You’re convinced and happy. That’s all that matters.

“Listen, ‘SANTA,’ Kurt sarcastically begins. “If you’re the real deal, I want to win the Undisputed Championship tonight. Can ya’ do that for me?!”

“I apologize, Kurt, but…. you’ve told me your wish; I don’t believe I can grant it.”

“HA!” You laugh. He’s not getting the Undisputed title for sure now. That’s one less thing for you to worry about.

“You can’t grant my wish...” Kurt repeats, nodding his head a bit. “Okay.” He shrugs it off momentarily, giving the impression that he’s about to leave, but he swoops Santa off his feet and into an Olympic Slam. As soon as Poor Santa hits the ground, Kurt angrily yells at him. “YOU’RE GONNA GIVE ME MY WISH, SANTA!”

“Wait!!” You yell. But it’s too late. “NOO! What’re you doing?! I can’t believe you!!!” You’re so distraught that your words are coming out way too fast. Kurt Angle just gave Santa an Olympic Slam!

To make things worse, Kurt pulls him right into the Ankle Lock. You’re yelling, but The Rock just stands there. That is until he decides to yank Kurt back and exchange blows with him instead.

As of right now, pain is all you feel. You kneel down to the fallen Santa, trying your best to help him up.

There’s one thing for sure. This Raw would be memorable…for all the wrong reasons.

Today’s matches are as follows…

RIKISHI VS. TEST

APA VS. BILLY AND CHUCK

TORRIE WILSON VS. STACY KEIBLER VS. [NAME] (EGGNOG MATCH)

RVD VS. LANCE STORM

CHRISTIAN VS. THE HURRICANE (EUROPEAN TITLE)

BOOKER T VS. MAVEN

BUBBA CLAUS VS. TAJIRI CLAUS

CHRIS JERICHO VS. KURT ANGLE VS. THE ROCK

You double take once you see your name alongside Stacy and Torrie.

Who put you in the eggnog match? You’re going to kill someone. This is probably one of the first gimmick matches you’ve had here, and it makes you reconsider shunning a bra and panties match…

….Nah, nothing would ever make you reconsider that. By some stroke of luck, you haven’t been signed up for one. However, you’d much rather have an actual match tonight!

Now you’ve got a bone to pick with Raw’s new owner. More than likely, he had something to do with this, so you can’t blame Vince THIS TIME. You may just start blaming him for shits and giggles, though.

“[Name]!”

You look behind you to see RVD storming down the hall. He doesn’t seem in the greatest of moods, but you still try and be friendly. “Hey there! What’s up?”

It’s a bit off-putting to see him so irritated. He seems so laid back. The moment he grabs your shoulders is when you realize that it may be serious. “Have you seen Chris Jericho? This is important.”

Seems like everyone’s looking for him. He is always causing trouble. You think it’ll only get worse now that he’s the Undisputed champion, but you can only hope someone else can beat him.

If that doesn’t happen, perhaps you’ll have to intervene.

He rubs his temple. “He attacked me on Heat before Vengeance. I know he’s performing tonight, but I don’t care. Lance Storm had a lot to say about it, so now I’ve gotta kick his ass.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it. My advice is to try the locker room. He’s vain enough to stay in there for days if he could. I’m sure he loves checking himself out.” You recommend.

RVD seems to relax a bit. He doesn’t think he can be mad around you, at least not for long. He lets go of your shoulders. “Alright, Miss Nitro. I’ll try.”

That’s like the second nickname someone’s given you. Can’t complain about it, though. It’s kinda cute!

Though you feel bad that you can only catch him in the halls, you smile anyway. “I’ll catch up with you later. I’ve gotta hit up the party. We’ve gotta hang out sometime. I really enjoyed it when we were a team.”

“Ditto.” He agrees. “Well, when you need a partner, come find me.”

You wave at him, he returns it, and you two go your separate ways. The main objective was to get to Raw’s party. Talking to Ric Flair was really important.

You could hear a distant “woo!!” from down the hallway. Yeah, he’s definitely in there.

You pick up the pace a bit to reach the door, and you quickly open it. Upon entry, you can see more people that you know. Trish, Jacqueline, Big Show, Hurricane, Tajiri, Torrie…

Seeing her sitting in Santa Tajiri’s lap, you can’t help but stare in awe. She seems surprised, too, not expecting you to be at the party. There’s a camera here, so it follows you to where you stand. You cross your arms.

They did an awful job of telling you these things.

You glance around again and notice that Edge is here, too. God damn it.

Once you and Torrie locked eyes, the room fell silent. Some of your coworkers are starting to get an idea of how unstable you are.

They just hoped you wouldn’t go ballistic on her right now. It’s a party! You’re supposed to be having fun! You get the gist, so you decide to clear the air. “I just want to talk to Ric Flair. I'm not here to fight or anything.”

Nevermind the fact you got an invitation..

Everyone seems to let out a sigh of relief, continuing their miscellaneous conversations. Were they really that concerned..?

The Nature Boy makes his way over to you. “You called for me?!” You flinch at his tone of voice. He’s so loud.

“Yeah, why’d you schedule me in that eggnog match?” You question. “I don’t want to be in it. In fact, there’s no reason for me to be in it.”

He grabs a drink from the table and raises it up toward you in offering. “I thought it would be a good opportunity, I wanna see you wrestle!”

You wave your hand at him. “You did! Remember that one match with The Rock? You fixed the match!”

“Not good enough! I wanna see some hair pullin’, eye scratchin’, clothes rippin’! Woo!” Ric chants. “You’re the only person that can deliver it! I've seen you go at it when you were in WCW!”

You can’t even get a word out before he’s yelling even more. “MERRY CHRISTMAS, FROM THE NATURE BOY!! WE ARE PARTYING DOWN TONIGHT, WE ARE LOOKIN’ GOOD!”

You really fight the urge to say: “Take your pills, old man,” but you instead decide to zip it for now. Guess you’ll have to participate.

Meanwhile, Edge makes his way over to you. He’s got garland wrapped around his neck like a scarf, and you know he’s still goofy as ever.

“Hey there, you.” He greets.

You wave. “Hi.” This is too awkward for you, so you cut to the chase. “We’re fine now, right? I saw you catch my kiss. I blew you.”

“Hah, blew me.” Edge chuckled. Ha, ha. You almost laughed, he’s sooo hilarious. “I don’t know why you came out there, but I kind of liked it.”

You’re happy. At least he didn’t seem to be mad at you anymore. He totally took things out of context. You wanted to map out a few things to say to him in your head, but it’s tough when Torrie talks so loudly in her squeaky voice.

It’s like she was doing it on purpose. Like she’s raising her voice so that you could hear. If that’s what she wants, so be it. You turn around to look.

“Wooow!!” She chirps, unwrapping a lingerie set from the box. “You want me to be naughty, don’t you?! It’s beautiful, I love it!”

God, you hate her. You swiftly turn around to leave but are stopped by Debra coming in with a tray of neatly placed cookies.

“Hey, sweetie!” She greets you with a big smile. “I’m glad you could make it! It’s not a party without my famous cookies!”

You’re gonna be honest. Those look like the sugar cookies from the store, but you’ll still eat them.

She hands over the tray to Ric. “Oh! Steve will be here any minute!” He’s coming too?! Cool! It is a little surprising to hear he’s actually gonna show up. Everyone in the room starts to cheer, including the crowd.

Alright, perhaps the night can turn itself around after all.

Eggnog shouldn’t be that bad. It's not your favorite drink, but it’s better than gravy. You bet poor Trish had to take so many showers.

It honestly reminds you of when Kurt hosed the Alliance down with milk. You won’t ever forget that night. You shiver just thinking about it.

The ladies of the night have already made their entrance. You’re the last one to come out. You don’t even bother dressing up all festive, as your gear will probably be drenched anyway.

Your music hits. Now’s the time to go out there and get this match done as quick as you can.

“And finally, introducing [Name]!”

For a moment, you stop midway on the ramp to look at the girls and the pool of eggnog.

If they said this was for a WCW taping, you would’ve believed them.

You finally reach the end of the ramp, looking over and shaking your head. You can’t believe you’re doing this. All the while, Torrie’s tossing candy canes into the crowd while you walk over toward the side. At least someone’s enjoying this.

As soon as you get down there, she turns toward you and coyly passes you a candy cane, but you slap it out of her hand. You don’t want that shit.

Stacy quickly takes advantage, yanking her over by the shoulder and slapping her. Stacy yells over to you, “Let’s throw her in!”

Absolutely. You give her a nod, and the two of you back over to Torrie. The both of you pick her up, adjusting so she doesn’t get hurt too bad when you toss her.

“One, two….” You begin to count, the two of you rocking back and forth. “Three!” And there she goes, right into the pool of eggnog. Some of it splashes on you, but you don’t care.

Cameras around you flashed and it almost blinded you for a moment, causing you to squint for a moment before rubbing your eyes.

Once you come to, you see Stacy raising her hand for a high five. You smile and give her one, but as soon as she turns her back on you to laugh at Torrie, you shove her into the pool.

What an idiot! It’s every woman for themselves tonight. While you actually start to find this fun, you foresee a messy shower in the future. Carefully, you step right into the pool. You didn’t want to slip and hurt yourself.

Of course, the first thing you do is to try and drown Torrie. Just to shut her up for a bit. You grab her hair, submerge her under the eggnog for a minute or two, and then pull her back up. She’s coughing and sputtering.

Stacy’s doing her best to regain some balance, even trying to grab on the referee for some leverage. You’re too focused on Torrie, though.

The smell of eggnog was starting to make you sick. You don’t think you ever want to see eggnog ever again.

You try to adjust to pull Torrie onto a very slippery STF, but you keep losing your grip every few seconds. You did your best to keep it on, though.

Torrie reaches her hand out, but there’s no rope to save her now. You think she’s just about to tap!….until Stacy got her head back in the game and broke up the submission.

Now, you’ll have to focus on her for a minute. There’s not much you can do in the pool, which is one of the reasons why you hated this match so much.

She drags you off of Torrie and starts slapping you around a bit. Seems like she doesn’t know what to do either.

That damn Ric Flair. What did you even get out of this? Definitely not a title match that’s for sure.

Either you do a roll up pin or you force them to tap. You’re leaning on the latter. You don’t know your time limit, so you’re gonna have to make do. You scoop Stacy up and slam her back into the pool, eggnog splashing everywhere.

Poor Torrie’s little Santa outfit was almost halfway off of her. Stacy was in the same state. You were smart enough NOT to dress in anything like that. The crowd can have them, but not you!

“You girls have five more minutes!” The referee whisper-shouted.

Five minutes, okay. That’s not bad. Five minutes…

Wait, FIVE MINUTES?! Not good. You start to panic inwardly, and Torrie is the first to catch on.

She comes out of character to check in on you for a second. That is, after she coughs out more eggnog.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine, but five minutes!” You exclaim, nearly losing your own footing, trying to adjust yourself.

You all need to start wrapping it up then. You’re almost disappointed it’s already almost over. Almost.

“Stacy!” You whisper-shout. “You’re gonna have to tap!” When you finish your sentence, you’re already moving to sweep her off her feet.

You really wish it was Torrie, but she’s too busy trying to get herself together. Man, if she threw up, there’s gonna be a problem.

Stacy desperately tries to claw at your arm to escape, to no avail. The referee circles around you two, and before you know it, she is tapping, causing eggnog to splash everywhere.

You let her go and shove her away, and the referee helps you up to raise your arm. You’re just ready to get the fuck out of dodge. You actually think that was the most embarrassing match you’ve been in.

“The winner of the eggnog match, [Name]!”

You snatch your arm from the referee and turn away to walk begrudgingly up the ramp, but don’t forget to bat your hand at the girls and the pool.

Your music blares in your ears, but it all sounds dull. All you care about is hitting the showers.

You’ve won, but at what cost? Sometimes, you really can’t help but hate your job.

As soon as you hit that curtain, Ric Flair gives you a round of applause with a smile. “Bravo!” Shockingly enough, he’s not being annoyingly loud. “Woooo! That was a show!”

“Good enough for you?” You ask sardonically. One of the stagehands passes you a towel, and you thank them. You use it to dry your face and hair. It’s gonna have to do for now.

God, you think you may have gotten eggnog in your ear…

“Hope you’re satisfied.” You have to hit your palm against your ear.

He just laughs, making you narrow your eyes.

“Listen, listen, I just have a deal for you. Because you did the favor of participating in this match, I’ve thought…how would you like to participate in the Royal Rumble?”

“What?!” You exclaim, nearly dropping your towel. “Are you serious?”

“Sure am. You see, I would like to surprise Vince. To keep him on his toes, I’m a bigger threat than he’ll ever know.” Ric explains. “There’s only 30 spots; I’m sure he will fill them quickly. So, you may want to talk to your fellow wrestlers. Maybe they’ll give up a spot.”

That’ll be hard to do. You know for a fact no man is willing to give up a spot like that. You’ll have to drive a hard bargain…

It takes a moment for you to respond. “..Well, I would love to, really! But I wouldn’t know how to get anyone to give up their spot. And I would have to just. I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

It was sprung onto you so suddenly that you weren’t sure what to do. Ric understands, luckily.

“Well, how about this? You take the rest of the night off. Go get cleaned up and think about it. Trust me, both of us are the winners.”

Now, that is an offer you cannot refuse. You’ll have to join the party next time.

For now, you just need to think.

#SCREAM IF YOU WANT IT!#DONT THROW THE TOMATOES DONT DO IT #wwe imagine #wwe x reader #wwf imagine #wwf x reader #wwe attitude series #RVD MY BELOVED #eh no tags for this one too lazyyy

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campingwiththecharmings · 1 year

Note

hi :) this request isn't on the list you reblogged but i saw this on another post and thought it'd be cute for poe maybe holiday-themed idk your the expert :) thank u so much <3

“Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”

Midnight

AN: Thank you for requesting this, nonnie. I'm so sorry I didn't get something out to you earlier. Hopefully this is okay! 🤞💖 (also there is technically a new years-y holiday in Star Wars canon according to Wookieepedia sooooo 😜).

(Un-beta'd)

Rated: T Words: 733 Pairing: Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Warnings: kissing, friends to lovers, possibly terrible writing. AO3

——————

“We don't have to do this, you know,” he half-shouts, leaning closer so you can hear him over all the commotion in the room. “It's just a silly tradition.”

You lean back a little, shaking your head as you shout back. “What? No, it's fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure, Dameron. Why’re you trying to talk me out of this? Does my breath smell bad or something?”

He cringes, his eyes teasing. “Well, I wasn’t gonna say anything but—”

You scoff, reaching out a hand to push his shoulder. “Shut up.”

The whole base is buzzing with excitement as the new year looms, and while you’re still in the middle of a war, everyone can’t seem to help celebrating. The General says that these kinds of moments are necessary, not just to keep up morale, but to remind everyone what they’re fighting for, that hope is not yet lost.

The energy in the hangar is at its peak as you near midnight, everyone around you loudly counting down. You and Poe join in, laughing when there are only a few seconds left.

At the count of one, he leans forward, pressing his lips against yours. Your breath stutters at the contact, heat unexpectedly flaring in your chest; his lips are soft and gentle as they move tentatively against yours. He sucks in a breath when you kiss him back, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. His hand comes up to cradle your cheek and you lean into it, sighing when he pulls your body against his with the other. His chest is solid and warm against yours, and you wonder if he can feel your heart beating like a drum against your rib cage. You can’t think, you can’t breathe, all you know is that you want more—more of this, more of him.

After what simultaneously feels like seconds and hours, he pulls back. You’re dizzy, feeling almost drunk as you close your eyes, savoring the memory of his lips against yours. You swallow thickly, trying in vain to bury the feelings kissing him seems to have brought to the surface. There is an ache in your chest at the loss of him, and suddenly you wonder how you’ve managed to go on for so long without this.

You open your eyes, meeting his with a smile, all the while praying he won’t be able to see the longing there. He smiles back at you, his familiar brown eyes almost glassy, as if he’s had a little too much ale. Everyone cheers around you, a part of you registering that midnight has come and gone, that a new year has begun, the rest of you not caring the least.

He’s still holding onto you, your hands resting against his chest as you gaze at each other, his hand still cupping your cheek. You can’t look away, you don’t want to look away; it’s like a switch has been flipped inside your head, unleashing all of your (seemingly) long-repressed feelings for him.

“Happy New Year,” he rasps, swallowing thickly as he studies your face. "You okay?"

You nod dumbly, wetting your lips, your stomach flipping as the action draws his gaze there. “Yeah. You?”

“I’m—yeah, I’m great,” he breathes, still looking at your mouth.

You should be panicking right now, but instead, a strange sense of certainty has come over you; it’s like somehow you always knew this would happen, like it was always meant to happen. The thought makes you giddy and you can’t stop the chuckle that escapes you.

This seems to shake him from his staring contest with your lips, his eyes flicking immediately to yours. Your heart aches at the panic there, at the thought that you might be laughing at him. You do your best to ease it, meeting his gaze unwaveringly, trying to show him that you want this, that you want him. The panic disappears from his eyes almost as quickly as it appeared, a lightness replacing it.

“You know,” he says conspiratorially, sliding his hand down your arm to grasp your hand in his. “Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”

“Well,” you say, smiling as you lean in, your mouth hovering over his. “We wouldn’t want to disappoint them, would we?”

“No, definitely not,” he murmurs, smiling as he captures your lips in another kiss.

Review (pretty please)?

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

#poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron reader insert #my fic #lol i am so impatient y'all couldn't even wait until tomorrow 😂

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averagetmntfan · 5 months

Text

it’s crazy that 2023 is almost to an end! Another year that just flew by!

I’ll be honest, I was desperate to post my art somewhere. It’s been kinda a rough couple of years for me. And recently.

I was extremely sad last year. Around this time, actually. Let me paint a picture.

Last year, I switched schools. Which I guess doesn’t sound like a big deal, but it was to me. My whole life was at my other school. My friends. They were the best. As u can probably imagine, I starting at a brand new school is hard. Especially when everyone already knows eachother. This might come as a shocker, but I’m kinda Anti-social when it comes to ppl around my age. (Especially cuz ppl my age are such bitches Lmao) for the longest time, I coped using discord And tik tok. I Even made my own little group. But ofc, that had to come to an end too. after that, I was sad again. For the longest time I had all these ideas, but no one to really share them with.

(cuz none of my irl friends like nor watched tmnt) and recently I ended a friendship w/ someone. We were both in the wrong, I’ll admit. I did say somethings behind her back. Nothing too bad. But it did call her a hypocrite. Because she would always complain about our other friends leaving to hang out w/ other ppl. When she does the exact same thing. And I was alone. Alone at lunch. Just sitting there. She would treat me so..rudely. Just plain rude. I asked her a question (Idk what is was exactly) and she responded with such a rude response. And that was on fucking Halloween. (Which I was sick on) so that’s when the entire friendship fell to shit.

Since then I’ve been hanging out by myself in the library (well, the times it’s open anyway) so u can probably imagine how I feel. Then one day, it all changed. I discover this wonder escape. Tumblr. I signed up and made this acc. And I met such amazing ppl on it.

@allyheart707: has given me good advice on my little comic series, genially super nice, fun to chat w/. I think I’ve been mutuals w/ her for the longest.

@ghosty-0w0: very silly, I have so much fun doing art collabs w/ you!! Again, very nice and thoughtful. Mutuals for a bit but it feels longer!!

@mikey-rottmnt: the ultimate silly, whiteboard was to much fun (I’m gonna try and make another board for us lol), I have no idea how we became mutuals lmao. Very fun to chat w, always open to listen, caring and sweet. I enjoy having conversations w/ u!

@c00kietin: I had a lot of fun drawing u!!!, Irish gang 🍀☘️, that one time I didn’t get sleep was chaotic, very chill, a local amphibia fan!! I wanna talk more w/ u, cuz ur js so cool!!

I Hope y’all have an amazing new year! May the year bring u luck, kindness, adventures (hopefully) not artblock, and alot of ideas!! (Not that anyone of u need them, cuz ur so creative!!)

and dw..Hehe..I will make u all suffer w/ ANGST ANGST AND…fluff. JK MORE ANGST >:))

(no but real talk I will not js do all Angst I swear—)

I APOLOGIZE FOR THE OTHER MUTUALS THAT IK AND ARENT ON HERE, ITS CUX I FORGOT UR TAGS!!!

#<3 #jj rambles #jj rants #Jj…vents??#Happy new year!#2024 :0

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rzyraffek · 1 year

Note

Hello!

I just wanted to say that I really love your writing, and was hoping to send you a request. If you’re not interested feel free to ignore.

I saw you were open to writing for underrated slashers, so I was wondering if you could write something for Dominic from The dare. I just watched it and I’m so obsessed with him. There’s literally no writing for him, he’s so underrated.

In terms of the writing, I just want something fluffy. Like being childhood friends, getting separated, and then meeting again as adults. I’m being vague just in case you decide to watch the movie. I don’t want to spoil anything. I trust your amazing writing skills. ❤️

Again, feel free to ignore if you’re not interested. Thank you 💕

Thank you!! That's v nice of you😊😊 also thanks for movie recommendation!!! It was great tbh! The killer looked like brahms but gym rat😭😍 im obsessed!!

Sfw, they/them, mensions of trauma but on movie level so nothing new!

Dominic (from The Dare) Headcanons!!

While I was watching the movie I thought "man this is gonna be hard to write" but when I saw that u mention 'childhood friends' prompt and OMG ANON YOU ARE GENIUS

Childhood friend with this guy.. What worse could happen?

Imagine this: s/o and Dominic are bffs and one day Dominic sadly gets bullied but what can s/o do about that really? There's 4bullies and only two of them ://. I can imagine s/o ending up looking for him afterwards, and even lutteraly forcing police department not to close that case

He prolly kidnaped them due to silly goofy mood. Nah but for real he kinda hoped that they still like him?? (He mensions in movie that he wish he had family and kids just like main character did) and also he hopes s/o is as sadistic as him and will revenge bullies with him

S/o has to have huge 'I can fix him' vibe if they somehow stay with him

Also this guy never had a gf or even a kiss soooo yeah he will get flustered if s/o grabs his hand or call him some nick names. If s/o says something along the lines "Love you honey" He will just stand there sweatin bcs he has no clue what to do??? Should he say thank you?? Should he smile??? "Uhh😰😰 you too?"

Hes very pretty but hear me out. Masks stays on

After opening up and making sure s/o doenst skedaddle when left alone for more than second he turns into such simp, like "Domi its cold can you bring me a blanket :(" "yes honey, what color? What texture? I hope you dont mind wool .. i mean if you do i have few other blaknets but not as warm I- i mean i can go make you one?? O-or..." this guy🙄

He gets way to flustered! Things between them needs to go slow or his heart will explode. Lets stay with lil smooches and handholding for now please

do no DO NOT ENTER BASEMENT PLS plsplspls!!! Why?? Ee well😓😓 I kinda still have those people in there... they deserve it! (Sure they do)(but he feeds them so no worry

As i said before, he is a gym rat, his s/o could lay on his back and he still would do push ups(tbh he enjoys that bcs not only he exercise but also spents time with them)

He would love to go to park with them, watch a movie in cinema, talk shit about neibours. Sadly he thinks that due to his eee chilhood trauma he cant do all this stuff :((. Hopefully his s/o will help him change his mind! Help him leave all that stuff in past.

He do be laying on floor drawing with crayons and waving his legs in air (also humming)

His love language is definitely quality time. He loves doing anything with them really! S/o wants to cook something together? Get him an apron! S/o wants to cuddle and watch movies? Say less He will get some blankets and make couch mega comfy! S/o wants to dance or goof around just vibing? He can try that!

About 'play fighing' well that's not the best idea, I mean he likes it?? But it kinda gets into his head?? And he might to something very hurtful and bad acidently

What he loves the most are little things. How s/o knocks on door of his workshop before entering to make sure he knows that they are entering, or how they grab his hand when they are stressed, or how they bring him food when he's too busy/overwhelmed to do so himself, or when they give him space and understanding when he needs that, and when they lisen to him mumble about the horrid stuff he witnessed

He loves kissing them on forehead, hugs from behind, playing with hair, lazy mornings including snuggles

Sorry for long wait, I have a lot of stuff to do latley!! It is 2am I just finished watching move! I really hope those headcanons fit into your Dominic interpretation! Also good news! I think I might include his silly fella in my future headcanons! Cuz hes goofy! Please give more movie recommendations!

Love you all cya in next one

#the dare #dominic x reader #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons

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thedemigodoracle · 8 months

Text

Please read:

Ok, so as I jokingly said before “I’m back.” - I’m not joking, I am back.

Not entirely yet but here are some things to wait for in the near future.

Before I list it I need to browse fast through the real life stuff first so bear with:

- one of the reasons I did go missing from art and fandoms in general wasn’t just the ammount of books but also family situations, depression, relationships and in the last few years I lost grandma, grandpa and even my mother to a disease they don’t have it diagnosed yet because it was so rare.

Obvsly took a major hit to my mental health and the ability to write and just have energy kinda left me. I’m handling it I’m in therapy. This is all we need to talk about it.

- it’s been over ten years since some of your fave fics have been updated and while both Clichesbullet on ff.net and thatu on DA will be there and won’t be deleted HERE are what’s to expect:

1. My endgame here is reading the books back and forth again, as well as other source

Material for other fandoms I will

Be publishing for.

-updating the old fan mixes and uploading it to Spotify so it’s more accessible and going back (when possible to art).

- I will use AO3 some new aesthetics and user name (though probably just thatu) and edit a lot more to fit what I believe is better not because the world changed in general but because so

Did I.

Some of the racism and homophobia will still be there are these are the characters having flaws whose arcs weren’t complete but lots of it will also be changed because I’m 34 now I also the world is changed and some stuff just wouldn’t fly and I kinda hate it (but the old material is still there available on the old

Accounts).

- I’m not sure technology will be adapted but some references will here and there and I can clearly deliver something better now that I’ve taught English for over half of my life and am taking a masters degree on translation studies.

- real life will get me too busy sometimes so please I hope you’re excited but I know lots

Of you also have jobs or even families. So leave reviews and keep

Me company but also understand I was bad at updating before even with better time

Management this is will be a ride.

- I’m doing this to prove myself I can do and make good things.

- This site as well as the thatu blog will be updated.

- if you were a follower and have deleted your tumblr or changed usernames please leave a reply with who we were because I’ve had an eventful few years. I remember most of you, but I may need a nudge.

- both my writing and art style have developed and so did my world views - stuff will look different but hopefully still bring you comfort. And laughter.

And tears…?

- there will be some one shots posted focusing on stuff like grown up characters and new knowledge

We now have though the characterization will still follow the book ones as that’s how I kinda got used to it.

- I’m back but I’ll be getting back slowly and posting updates here. Tell ur friends who haven’t been here in a while but used to be part of our group of

Weirdos.

- I missed being a fandom person and hopefully now I can find solace in you guys back again.

- some new fandoms will pop up, as will

Some

Ships (see what I did there? Find solace? Will some ships? Hehe).

-Some extra texts will be added to whatever adaptations I make especially regarding transphobia and HP though I do intend to finish my Hannah/Neville story.

- maybe I’ll write original

Stuff too who knows?

Also, I missed you, spread the word. There’s a brand new old me in town. New ships, new views, new one shots, edits, a very different music taste (actually no I just added more stuff) and a lot of improved knowledge of vocabs and world geography.

Please spread this to whoever you think might be interested. It’s not popularity or anything, I’m trying to get back some pieces of me I lost along the way and writing and drawing used to be FUN and help me make FRIENDS.

I’ll keep u posted once everything is at least remotely ready to go.

And omg you’ll finally know what Silena had on clarisse.

Oh and I’m still not for writing smut but there will be more Adult/Mature like material as some ships require it and I am older. No minors having descriptive s*x

Of course but u know it’d feel weird to talk about these huge ass long relationships and not bring it up naturally.

Anyway, reply to this with whatever. Leave a like or something too but mostly leave a reply so we can start this journey together -

New younger fans are also welcome I’ll make my best to keep this space as safe as possible!! I teach kids and teens and I’d kill for u to have a place to be you safely.

Also there will now be additions on author notes for whether a ship is canon or fanon what I adapted and new fandoms new ships and trigger warnings before sensitive chapters that deal with stuff that before I wouldn’t.

Love, I’ve missed this,

thatu.

#calamity clarisse #Percy Jackson and the olympians #PJatO #leu a #clarisse la rue #Chrisse #thatu

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