#split train tickets

[cheaptrainticketsuk]

Top picks for 2024: Unleash your wanderlust with these must-visit UK destinations

The United Kingdom, with its rich history, diverse landscapes, and vibrant culture, has always been a top destination for travelers worldwide. And 2024 promises to be an even more exciting year to explore this fascinating country. From charming villages nestled in rolling hills to bustling cities brimming with energy, the UK offers something for everyone.

So, pack your bags, dust off your passport, and get ready to unleash your wanderlust with these must-visit UK destinations in 2024:

1. The Lake District: Escape to Tranquil Beauty

Immerse yourself in the breathtaking landscapes of the Lake District, a UNESCO World Heritage Site renowned for its serene lakes, picturesque villages, and rolling hills. Hike through idyllic trails, explore charming towns like Windermere and Grasmere, and take a boat ride on the tranquil waters of Lake Windermere. Indulge in delicious local cuisine, soak in the stunning scenery, and reconnect with nature in this haven of peace and tranquility.

2. Bath: Step Back in Time

Travel back in time to the Roman era in the elegant city of Bath. Marvel at the architectural marvels like the Roman Baths, a well-preserved complex dating back to the 1st century AD, and the iconic Royal Crescent, a sweeping Georgian terrace. Explore the charming independent shops, indulge in afternoon tea at a traditional tea room, and wander through the picturesque Roman Baths Pump Room Gardens. Bath offers a unique blend of history, architecture, and culture, making it a truly unforgettable destination.

3. Cornwall: Coastal Charm and Adventure

Embrace the rugged beauty of Cornwall, a haven for beach lovers, surfers, and outdoor enthusiasts. Explore the dramatic cliffs and hidden coves along the South West Coast Path, discover charming fishing villages like St Ives and Port Isaac, and learn about the region's rich maritime heritage. Indulge in fresh seafood, try your hand at surfing or watersports, and soak up the laid-back atmosphere of this coastal paradise.

4. Edinburgh: A Cultural Gem

Discover the vibrant energy and cultural richness of Edinburgh, Scotland's capital city. Explore the majestic Edinburgh Castle, perched atop a volcanic crag, and delve into the city's fascinating history at the National Museum of Scotland. Stroll down the iconic Royal Mile, lined with historical buildings and quirky shops, and be captivated by the stunning views from Arthur's Seat. Witness the world-renowned Edinburgh Fringe Festival in August, offering a diverse range of theater, comedy, and music performances, or experience the magical atmosphere of the Christmas markets in December.

5. York: A Journey Through History

Step into the footsteps of Roman soldiers, Vikings, and medieval kings in the historic city of York. Explore the magnificent York Minster, one of the largest Gothic cathedrals in Europe, and wander through the medieval Shambles, a charming street lined with timber-framed buildings. Visit the Jorvik Viking Centre for an immersive experience into Viking history, and enjoy a leisurely boat ride on the River Ouse, offering stunning views of the city.

Beyond the Top Picks:

The UK offers endless possibilities for exploration beyond these popular destinations. Consider venturing into:

The Peak District: Hike through heather moorlands and explore charming villages in this picturesque national park. Whether you're looking for scenic landscapes or outdoor adventures, the Peak District has it all. Don't forget to check for convenient National Express tickets to make your journey seamless.

Wales: Discover Snowdonia National Park, explore medieval castles, and experience the unique Welsh culture.

Northern Ireland: Explore the dramatic coastline, visit the Giant's Causeway, and immerse yourself in the Game of Thrones filming locations.

Tips for Your UK Adventure:

Plan your trip: Decide which destinations suit your interests and book accommodation in advance, especially during peak season.

Consider transportation: Trains are a convenient and scenic way to travel between major cities. Buses and rental cars offer flexibility for exploring smaller towns and rural areas.

Embrace the weather: Pack for unpredictable weather, with layers being essential throughout the year.

Experience local culture: Sample regional cuisine, attend local festivals and events, and learn a few basic phrases in the local dialect.

So, what are you waiting for? Start planning your UK adventure today and get ready to create unforgettable memories in this diverse and captivating country. Whether you're exploring the rich history, taking in the stunning landscapes, or enjoying the warm hospitality, make sure to grab Cheap Train Tickets to enhance your experience and make the most of your journey. The UK is sure to leave you wanting more, and affordable travel options can add to the excitement of your exploration.

#advance cheap train tickets #how to get cheap train tickets #cheap train tickets #national express tickets #split train tickets

[bellafox2144]

Flash Sale! €29 Paris-Barcelona Tickets - Disappearing Fast!

Calling all wanderlust-stricken souls, budget-conscious adventurers, and croissant-craving culture vultures! Are you ready for a whirlwind escape from the ordinary? Because for a limited time only, we're offering return flights from Paris to Barcelona for a jaw-dropping €29! Yes, you read that right – that's not a typo, it's a travel miracle!

But hold onto your sombreros, amigos, because this deal is hotter than paella on a fiesta night. These tickets are disappearing faster than churros dipped in thick, rich chocolate, so you'll need to act quick to snag yours before they're gone.

Here's why you can't miss this epic flash sale:

Paris and Barcelona: the ultimate European dream duo: From the Eiffel Tower's romantic embrace to the Sagrada Familia's sun-drenched spires, these two cities are a symphony of sights, sounds, and flavors. Stroll hand-in-hand along the Seine, get lost in the labyrinthine alleys of Barri Gòtic, or soak up the sun on Barceloneta Beach – the possibilities are endless! If you're planning this dream journey, don't forget to secure your Paris to Barcelona train tickets for a seamless and scenic travel experience.

€29 – a price that defies logic: Let's be honest, airfare can be a major budget-buster. But with this deal, you're basically getting a free trip to Barcelona – you just have to cover the croissants! Splurge on a flamenco show, indulge in tapas galore, or treat yourself to a luxurious stay in a charming boutique hotel – with these savings, you can have your fill of the good life without breaking the bank.

Escape the winter blues: January can be a bit, well, January-ish. Grey skies, endless to-do lists, and the post-holiday slump can leave you feeling like hibernating until spring. But with this flash sale, you can trade in your parka for a beret and your snow boots for espadrilles. Swap the dreary routine for a vibrant escape filled with sunshine, sangria, and sizzling Spanish passion.

But don't just take our word for it – here's what some of our happy customers are saying:

"€29 to Barcelona? I thought it was a joke! But I booked my ticket and it's real! Now I'm packing my bags and getting ready for the most amazing weekend ever!" – Sarah, London

" This is the perfect pick-me-up I needed. Paris and Barcelona have been on my bucket list forever, and now I can finally tick them off! Thanks for making travel dreams come true! And by the way, have you considered exploring the option of split train tickets for your journey?" – David, Berlin

"This deal is so good, I even convinced my grandma to come with me! We're going to have the time of our lives exploring these incredible cities together." – Emily, Madrid

So, what are you waiting for? Book your tickets now and:

Wander the cobbled streets of Montmartre.

Gaze in awe at the Sagrada Familia's stained-glass kaleidoscope.

Get lost in the artistic haven of Picasso Museum.

Savor the smoky goodness of jamón ibérico at a local tapas bar.

Dance the night away to the infectious rhythms of flamenco.

This is your chance to create memories that will last a lifetime, all for a price that's practically unbelievable. Don't miss out on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity – book your €29 Paris-Barcelona tickets today!

Remember, this flash sale is only valid for a limited time, so act fast!

P.S. Don't forget to share this incredible deal with your friends and family – the more the merrier (and the cheaper the sangria)!

#split train tickets #split saving #Paris to Barcelona train tickets

[splittrainticket]

Split Train Tickets are a way of saving money on train tickets in the United Kingdom. By splitting your ticket, you can save up to 80% on the cost of your ticket. This is done by breaking up your journey into smaller parts and buying separate tickets for each part.

#split train tickets #split ticketing #splitting tickets #split my fare #split my tickets #split rail tickets #split your ticket #book split train tickets

[kiwi-bitchez]

Double Down, Triple Threat 

Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader

Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension. 

Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending. 

Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.

Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics. 

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways. 

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something." 

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order. 

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret. 

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on. 

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that. 

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were. 

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers. 

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar. 

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well. 

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig. 

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him. 

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface. 

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer. 

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him. 

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. 

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that." 

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull. 

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt. 

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards. 

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night. 

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot. 

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive. 

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot. 

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something." 

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road. 

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt. 

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong. 

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk. 

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one. 

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood. 

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper. 

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful. 

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door. 

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" 

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks. 

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go." 

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step. 

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking. 

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live." 

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies. 

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?" 

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. 

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat. 

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here." 

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights. 

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought. 

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?" 

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar. 

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward. 

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on. 

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped. 

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close. 

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy. 

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat. 

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.” 

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside. 

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now. 

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane. 

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this. 

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond. 

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. 

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say. 

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well. 

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile. 

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago. 

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips. 

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window. 

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form. 

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much. 

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue. 

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.  

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner. 

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise. 

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be. 

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.” 

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath. 

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch. 

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief. 

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow. 

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind. 

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there. 

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing. 

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights. 

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow. 

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.” 

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel. 

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale. 

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request. 

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. 

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did. 

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it. 

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off. 

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.  

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances. 

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over. 

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were. 

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…” 

He understood, he hated how much he understood. 

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him. 

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run. 

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat. 

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive. 

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt. 

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails. 

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers. 

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed. 

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point. 

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction. 

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale. 

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot. 

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice. 

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip. 

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction. 

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?” 

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill. 

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away. 

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands. 

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth. 

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom. 

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on. 

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself. 

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark. 

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked. 

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you. 

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious. 

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present. 

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed. 

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream. 

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go. 

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around. 

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin. 

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways? 

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away. 

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back. 

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel. 

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging. 

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.” 

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.” 

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most. 

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs. 

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way. 

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you. 

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and  plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time. 

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?” 

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him. 

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand. 

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary. 

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else. 

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes. 

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch. 

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top? 

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching. 

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name  mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment. 

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point. 

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end. 

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold. 

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean. 

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two. 

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his. 

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could. 

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen. 

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong. 

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep. 

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you. 

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months. 

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control. 

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed. 

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze. 

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue. 

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true. 

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. 

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment. 

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall. 

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl. 

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time. 

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over. 

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was. 

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear. 

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.” 

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this. 

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.” 

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips. 

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself  on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you. 

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom. 

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips. 

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom. 

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets. 

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you. 

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed. 

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away. 

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself. 

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect. 

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck. 

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.” 

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body. 

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long. 

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs. 

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up. 

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. 

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.” 

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away. 

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.” 

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit. 

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred. 

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.” 

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask. 

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest. 

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip. 

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle. 

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?” 

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other. 

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you. 

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning. 

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone. 

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest. 

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit. 

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand. 

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. 

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment. 

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare. 

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening. 

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more. 

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more. 

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time. 

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go. 

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you. 

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time. 

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state. 

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you. 

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you. 

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could. 

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all. 

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more. 

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now. 

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him. 

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter. 

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue. 

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you. 

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you. 

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts. 

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future. 

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page. 

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock. 

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips. 

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake. 

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t  have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his. 

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours. 

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses. 

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.” 

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center. 

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you. 

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name. 

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release. 

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements. 

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm. 

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name. 

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van. 

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets. 

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. 

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all. 

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice. 

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come. 

A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #smut #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson #stranger things smut #Eddie munson fanfiction

[ukulelegodparent]

People on the train once again behave like absolute asshats

#yeah sure play music on your speaker whatever #I just hope they'll switch to the part of the train that goes to Prague when the train splits #the worst and most annoying people on this planet are found on the Eurocities from Germany to Prague it's insane #which makes me wonder: how much more expensive are first class tickets on them?

[magics-neptunes-things]

Shy Girl (2)

Hi guys!

This is the second part for Shy Girl, it was fun to write so I hope you will like it :)

It's longer that I thought tho. Sorry if there is some mistakes, Tumblr was a pain in my ass.

Enjoy!

TW : None

_____________________________________________________________

After the evening you met Alexia, you didn’t stay for long in Barcelona. You are engaged for a film on a rather large scale since you play in an American production and for one of the greatest current directors. You are always very careful to study the profiles of people offering you roles, preferring not to play in a promising film rather than finding yourself with someone crooked.

You talked about it at one point during your exchanges with Alexia and she confided in you about all that the Spanish team has experienced in recent years because of the Federation. But that’s just part of the different conversations you’ve had over the last couple of weeks. After talking a few times on Instagram, Alexia asked for your phone number and you continued by messages and sometimes FaceTime.

Sometimes you had to change countries, but you always managed to find a time to exchange news. You must admit that when a break is taking between two takes, you hurry to check your phone to see if you have not received a message from Alexia. Little do you know that she does the same in training, undergoing the teasing of her teammates.

********

Alexia 👑 Hey! When are you coming back to Barcelona again?

You I'm coming on Friday Why?

Alexia 👑 If I give you tickets, would you like to watch me play?

You Wait, you can play again?! 😱

Alexia 👑 Just had the go from the medical staff 😊

You Oh god I'm so happy for you 🤗 Of course I'll come, I'm happy you ask

Alexia 👑 I'm happy too. I'll send you all the information soon 💕

It's after this exchange of messages that you find yourself installed once again in the area reserved for families and VIPs, accompanied by your agent and definitely your best friend. Sofia puts her hand on your knee for the tenth time of the evening to prevent you from making it bounce in all directions. Alexia has informed you that she will not start the game, but will be in after the start of the second half.

Alexia is actually training since the return of the teams on the field and you feel the excitement running through the crowd as you see the captain treading the grass. However, it’s nothing against the clamor that resounds in the crowd when Alexia joins the rest of the team for the first time in many weeks. A big smile illuminates your face, similar to Alexia’s before she focuses on the game.

The match turn to Barca's advantage and you stay after the match when the players start their lap at the end of the game. You spotted Alexia’s mom and sister a few seats away from you but you didn’t have the courage to go and greet them. You didn’t agree on a program after the match, you didn’t want to impose yourself too much and you imagined that Alexia would prefer to celebrate her return to the field with her teammates.

You wink at her when she comes to greet her family and you were about to get up to leave the stadium when she beckons you to approach. You hesitate for a split second but your best friend gently pushes you in the back to join her, which you do timidly.

"Hi" smiled Alexia, placing her hand on yours, which is on the metal of the railing. "Can you wait for me to catch up? I'll be quick"

Your skin is hot where she's touching you and you have to use all of yourself to stay focus on the conversation you're having.

"Don’t you want to celebrate with your friends?" you ask while looking at her with your head tilted to the side.

"Maybe after" Alexia replies with some embarrassment that you have trouble understanding.

"Okay. I’ll wait for you then"

You smile and a big smile is displayed on Alexia’s face, who promises once again not to take long before joining you. So you return to the same lobby as a few days ago, accompanied by your agent and best friend. Like the other day, she goes to get you a glass of champagne and you sit on two stools at the back of the room.

You find yourself blushing stupidly when you cross the look of Eli Putellas and you hurry to half hide behind your best friend who rolls her eyes seeing you do.

True to her promise, Alexia quickly appears in the room, stopping once again at her family who kisses her and exchanges a few words with her. Your eyes meet several times during their exchange and you quickly understand at Alexia's sign of head that she wants to introduce you.

"Don’t forget to breathe, you’re going to pass out" Sofia teases you.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but your heart beats a little too fast when the three Putellas arrive at your height. You haven’t seen Alexia in person since you met her and with her wet hair and her bright smile, she’s even more stunning than you remember. However, you try to ignore this by listening to Alexia who make the introductions between you four.

After the greetings and exchanges of rigour, you learn in passing that Alba has seen all of your films, Alba and Eli must leave since they both work the next day.

"I’m glad you came" Alexia smiles after her family left and your best friend went to the bathroom.

"I’m glad I came" you assure her by smiling too.

You silently look at each other for a few seconds and you bite your lip, trying to hold her gaze.

"It’s weird to be in front of you after writing to you for two weeks" you finally confess timidly.

"It's weird for me too, but I'm really happy you came. It's mean a lot to me"

She takes your hand in her and when she sees your eyes going on your intertwined hands, she thinks that it's makes you uncomfortable. But when she try to take her hand back, you squeeze it, offering her a timid smile.

"Thanks for inviting me" you say, looking in her eyes.

She smiles and seems to relax, but Sofia come back at this moment and your hands are not longer in one other.

"So, what are you plan for the next days?" Alexia asks.

"I have some interviews while the film is being edited. After that I have to travel around to make the promotion of it, the film preview... And after all that I'm taking some holidays."

"Where are you going?"

"Barcelona probably" you smirk. "We have all we need here"

Alexia smirk back and keep talking with you for more time, until Mapi and some others girls come to look after Alexia. After greeting you, the blond talks to her friend.

"We're going to the restaurant Ale, you coming?"

"Do you want to come with us?" Alexia asks, turning for looking at you.

"I have to say no for her" Sofia intervenes "Early morning interview tomorrow"

You pout but Alexia smile while nodding, kissing your cheek before leaving.

"Well that went well" Sofia comments, smiling over her drink as you touch your cheek where Alexia's lips where seconds ago.

At the same time, Alexia was sighing before taking a last look at you above her shoulder.

"What is it?" Mapi asks her best friend.

"She's so beautiful. And cute. And sweet. I wish I could talk to her longer."

"So whipped already" Mapi scoffs, drawing a frown from her own girlfriend who asks her to leave Alexia alone.

********

Ale 💘 How the interviews went?

You It was great. A little bit tiring to have to answer always the same question but it was alright. How is your knee?

Ale 💘 It's fine, like nothing happened 😊

You Thanks God. I'm happy for you really

Ale 💘 Thanks 😊 Can’t believe I’ve only been back in the field for two weeks Also two weeks since I last saw you

You About that, I have something to ask you but maybe it's a little too much ��

Ale 💘 Tell me?

You As you know, we have the Preview for the film on Thursday in Barcelona

Ale 💘 Yes?

You I was wondering if you would like to come? And maybe being my +1? I know it can be weird because we don't really saw each other physically a lot, but I thought it could be fun to go there with you. We talked a lot already and I feel like I know you, at least a little bit. Don't feel any pressure anyway, I'll understand if you are busy with something else or if you don't want to come so don't worry It's too much isn't it? 😥 You don't have to answer

Ale 💘 🤣 I would love to go with you ❤️

********

You were happy, more than that actually, when Alexia says yes to you. But now you are a mess, looking at yourself in the mirror. You don't like your dress for tonight, you don't like your make up or the way your hair are. You always choose your clothes yourself, but tonight you feel like you only made bad choices.

You want to look great for Alexia, hopping that she doesn't regret to appear at your side for tonight. You warned her that there would be journalists and photographers, but it didn’t seem to bother her. You explained to her from beginning to end the way these evenings go, from A to Z, without omitting the slightest detail. You don't want Alexia to be uncomfortable or embarrassed at any time of the evening.

"You're beautiful" Sofia smiles when she entered the room.

You shrug, still looking at you before sighing. She's your friend, of course she will tell you something like this. Before you can answer anything, someone is knocking at the door again and you let Sofia open the door.

"Hola Alexia. Great to see you here" she smiles, before leaving the room.

Alexia’s presence electrifies you and you turn to face her. You let your eyes wrap around her appearance and you almost need to sit down. She’s amazing, obviously. Is there ever a time when that hasn’t been the case? When your eyes stop on her face, you realize that she is smiling softly and you take a few steps in her direction to greet her properly. You’ve been talking non-stop for weeks now, but this is only the third time you can see her in real life.

Your arms naturally find their place around her neck when she takes you in her arms to greet you. Smiling, you extend your embrace, discreetly breathing her smell.

"I missed you" Alexia whispers in your ear

It makes you shiver and you can’t hide the smile on your face.

"I missed you too" you smile softly as you step back a bit to look at her. "You are really beautiful"

"Speak for yourself" Alexia smiles back.

Neither of you has released the other when your eyes cross and you feel your breath become short when you see that her eyes descend on your lips. It’s been a few days since you’ve wondered what it would be like to kiss Alexia, even before your discussions take a little more intimate turn. A little flirty too. You discovered a funny Alexia that makes you appreciate her even more.

When Alexia’s eyes go up on yours, looking for a form of consent, you just smile at her. No words are needed. Your heart accelerates in anticipation as she leans over you, but the door of the room suddenly opens when your lips are only a few millimeters apart.

"Y/N, we have to… Oh, sorry"

You refrain from insulting your colleague (and friend) on the screen when he enters the room suddenly, making you both jump. But your gaze must speak for you since he addresses you an excuse grimace. He looks at Alexia with curiosity, who now stands awkwardly two feets away from you.

"Alexia, this is John, my co-worker" you mumble. "John, this is Alexia"

"Great to finally meet you" John says with a smile, reaching his hand to Alexia before turning to you. "We have to go, the cars are here"

"We are coming"

He smiles again and leave. You turn yourself to Alexia, who was already looking at you.

"He never knocks on the door before entering?"

She looks annoyed and you bite your lower lip.

"I'm sorry"

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

Your eyes meet and she seems to relax a little. You offer her a hesitant hand, relieved to see that she doesn't hesitate for a second to take it.

"Are you ready to go?"

When Alexia nods, you take her with you to the exit the hotel where you prepared yourself. One of the cars supposed to take you to your destination is waiting for you and you let Alexia in before you.

"Thank you for agreeing to come with me. I imagine you must have your quota of ceremonies like this" you tell her while the car started.

"A little" confesses Alexia, shrugging her shoulders, before smiling. "But it’s for me, next time it’s you who will have to accompany me"

"With great pleasure"

A smile appears on your face and you feel your stomach doing a double-flip at the idea of spending extra time with Alexia. Enjoying the intimacy that the car offers you, you put your head on Alexia’s shoulder which intertwines your fingers to put your hands on her lap.

"After that, you have no more obligations right?" asks Alexia after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

"No more for a whole month" you confirm.

You can’t wait to have time for yourself, to sleep in the morning and just have nothing to do. To be able to stay in Barcelona, in your apartment and see your loved ones.

"Will you have time for me?" asked Alexia in a shy voice.

"Obviously" you smile softly as you look up at her.

"If I offered you a date, would you say yes?"

"I would say yes if you asked me, of course"

Your mischievous smile is seen by Alexia, who smiles back at you. This isn't exactly a officially request, but it goes in your way of operating from the beginning. Teasing, lightness and above all no anticipation of anything. No obligation, just the desire to spend time together. And other than by screen interposed for once.

When you arrive, she puts a kiss on your cheek.

"Time to shine, superstar"

You blush violently, which seems to amuse her a lot. The look of reproaches that you throw at her makes her smile, even if she addresses you a small sentence of apology.

"Sorry. But I find the fact that we’re both in the spotlight when we’re socially awkward rather amusing."

She’s absolutely right, and it’s probably one of your biggest commonalities. But it also allows you to better understand the other and you appreciate that very much.

A few minutes later, you are walking on the red carpet, trying to ignore the flashes of the photographers.

"I’ll have to take pictures" you explain to Alexia in a low voice while waiting for John to finish "Normally we take only a few before taking others with our partner, but we will avoid this point"

You cross Alexia’s eyes and quickly realize that something seems to bother her. You ask her with your eyes and you are once again pleasantly surprised at the simplicity with which she seems to be able to confide in you.

"Don’t you want to be seen with me?"

"Yes, of course. But you…"

"I don’t mind. On the contrary."

After looking in her eyes for a few seconds and realizing that she's telling you the truth, you nod with a shy smile. That wasn’t the reason you invited her, after all, you’re not a couple. But you’re glad she wants to pose with you.

After taking some pictures alone, you invite her to join you by raising your hand to her. She takes it quietly, putting a hand in the hollow of your back. And you need all your concentration to stay focused on what’s going on. You look at her and smile back at her, before looking again at the photographs.

When a few extra flashes have burned your retina, you take her hand again to take her with you in the comfort offered by the cinema.

You stop by several journalists to answer more questions, still without releasing Alexia’s hand. She gives you a reassuring smile every time you turn in her direction and ask her how she feels.

After a while, you finally find your seats in one of the first rows of the cinema. At one point you received a drink and you put it on your armrest to turn towards Alexia.

"Are you okay? I know it can be a lot" you apologize, biting your lip.

"You had warned me. I'm alright, don't worry" gently reminds you a smiling Alexia.

You hum for any answer, letting yourself go against the back of your chair.

"And on top of that, a first date at the cinema isn't so unusual" smiles Alexia.

It makes you laugh and when you look at her, her eyes sparkle with malice. In spite of yourself, you think about the missed kiss in the hotel room and when you see Alexia’s look slip on your lips, you know that she thinks about it too.

You really want to kiss her right now, but the director and the producer are suddenly in front of the crowd to thanks people to be here. You don't really listen to what they say, really aware of Alexia's fingers brushing against your arm.

During the film, you can't stop looking at her to see her reactions. You talked to her about the film, but you didn't give her all the details. You loved seeing her smile, laugh or frown.

"Internet is going crazy" Sofia informs you both when the film is over.

You and Alexia followed the others into the reception room where there are petits fours and countryside. You exchanged a few discussions with several people in the field, making sure to always include Alexia in one way or another. Most of your interlocutors obviously know her, she remains a world famous sportswoman.

"Why?" you ask Sofia naively, gently frowning.

"You show up with one of the best players in the world after being officially single for years. Try again" laughs Sofia rolling her eyes.

"Oh" you just blush slightly.

Alexia smirks at you, before taking a sip of her drink. The idea of being seen with Alexia doesn't bother you, you wouldn't have invited her if it had been the case. But you’ll probably never understand people’s interest in other people’s privacy.

"Do you want to get some fresh air?" Alexia suggests pointing to the balcony with a nod.

You nod and follow her quietly. The fresh air from the outside is nice and the fact that the balcony overlooks an inner courtyard that doesn't show you to the rest of the world is just as nice.

"Are you having a good time?" you ask, looking closely at Alexia.

"Very good yes. It would have been difficult otherwise, I am in very good company after all"

You smile softly at her and give yourself control by finishing the glass that you held until now in your hand.

"Can I ask you something?" asked Alexia shortly afterwards.

"Of course" you answer by looking at her curiously.

"Sofia said you were officially single for years"

"Yes?"

"What does she mean by officially? Did you have someone hiding or something like that?"

"Oh... No, not at all. I was really focused on my career and it's always hard to manage a relationship when you are always everywhere in the world"

You shrug, but can't escape the inquisitive looks Alexia sends you.

"So... Hooks up?"

You widen your eyes before shaking your head negatively.

"No. It's not... I mean I'm not into this kind of things" you begin before stopping and looking at Alexia hesitantly "You're going to think I'm weird or something"

"I promise I'm not" Alexia smiles, grabbing your hand.

"I had someone but the distance was hard and we just fall apart. I haven't been with someone since" you mumble, blushing once again. "I... For me, sex and love are coming together"

Alexia is still smiling but you only have to look in her eyes to learn that she's not making fun of you.

"You are the sweetest girl in the world."

You roll your eyes and feel your body shiver when she put a strand of hair behind your ear. Taking advantage that you are alone, you press your face on her hand and gently kiss her wrist. You lost yourself in her eyes once again, studying at length each of Alexia’s facial features. She leans again in your direction and her breath caresses your lips when you hear John’s voice sound behind you again.

"What?!" you snap, turning in his direction.

"I… uh. The producer was looking for you, he wanted to introduce you to a friend of his" "I’m coming" you sigh with annoyance

You don’t listen to his stuttering excuses, preferring to take a deep breath to calm down. Why does the whole world seem determined to stop you from exchanging your first kiss with Alexia?

"I better go" you sigh softly as you turn towards the door.

But, before you can make the slightest step, you feel Alexia’s hand grab your arm and draw you against her. Your eyes cross for a few seconds before her lips are on yours. Her lips blend perfectly with yours and you step on your toes to prolong the kiss. Your arms wrap around her neck and head, trying to be as close to her as possible.

Her hands slide on your back and her whole smell fills you. She's everywhere and you don't know if it's that or the lack of oxygen, but you feel yourself like floating.

"Now you can go if you want" Alexia mumble against your lips, as breathless as you are.

"I'm not sure if I want to" you admit, slightly blushing.

"Do you want to go home?"

Alexia only lets half a second pass before adding something to what she just said, as if she had just realized something.

"I mean… not going back, but you know… I mean, we didn’t really spend time just physically. Well, physically, I mean in front of each other not…"

"Alexia, stop" you smile softly, putting an end to Alexia’s agony.

She seems to be grateful to you because she takes her breath while looking at you, although dancing nervously from one foot to the other.

"Sorry, it was weird" Alexia rolls her eyes.

"It reassures me a little, little things you were out of the socialy awkward category" you smile maliciously before adding "Let's go home."

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #woso fanfics

[misssilversunny]

Having thoughts of Incel!Shigaraki obsessed with Idol! Reader

Edit: Just realized I should warn y’all about a Noncon creampie.

MDNI

Like, imagine Shiggy watching every concert live at home. Buying all the merch available and keeping it in a little box in his closet. Buying tickets on a day off and attending because he wanted your true fan to be there supporting you.

You were his saving grace. The one thing that made him truly believe in something after hero society was eradicated. You made life worth living.

There’s multiple attacks during rival idol groups’ performances, as well as boy groups that people were getting a bit too comfortable shipping you with. But there’s never an attack during your performances.

He buys lingerie and sex toys themed after your idol group. Sprays the lingerie with perfume someone found on your dresser during a group AMA video and holds it to his face while fucking his fleshlight. He’s jerked himself raw watching you on more than one occasion. Fantasizing about meet cutes that lead to him fucking you backstage, in an alley, on a train, anywhere.

They’d always start with him making you laugh. He’s heard your laugh so many times that he can’t hear it without getting rock hard. You’d lean up to give him a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Such a fucking tease, he’d think. He’d wrap an arm around your waist and kiss you properly. You’d be a panting, needy mess.

He’d whisper in your ear all the things he wanted to do to you, squeezing your sides. You’d murmur something about being in public, and he’d lead you to the closest slightly-secluded area he could find. He’d strip you naked and tell you to be quiet while he fucks you like a mutt.

You’d keep whimpering about how big he was. You were splitting open, you couldn’t take it, slowly morphing into how good he was fucking you, how much you loved him, “Please don’t stop”, “I’m cumming,”.

He’d grit out that he was gonna breed your cunt. You’d beg him to pull out, but he keeps going and as you’re begging him “Not inside, please not inside, you’ll get me pregnant” His hips stutter as he pushed himself as deep as he could reach, cumming inside with a lengthy groan. And it’s so much, it’d spill out around his cock.

He’d pull out and more would spill onto the floor. You’d reach down and touch the mess between your legs, flinching slightly at the stimulation. He’d tuck himself back in his boxers, snap a photo of your used cunt, kiss your cheek, and leave.

Then reality would come crashing back down as he calmed down. He turns to look at the video he was watching, paused on you eating a push pop, leaving rings of lipstick along the length. His cock twitched in his flesh light.

Such a fucking tease.

Shiggy is so gross and mean god I want him.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura smut #shigaraki smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha smut #mdni #18+ mdni #minors dni #18+ only #First drabble what do you think?

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Oh dear sweet god

Why do I do this to myself

This goof has such a chokehold on my heart I just CANNOT

Working on P is for Public of ABC's of Kink, but it's getting split into two. Part one is SFW, part 2 will be very much NSFW. Already working in it and planning to have it up tonight.

And awaaaaay we gooo—

I lied part 3 will be NSFW don't hurt me

Blacksmith's Daughter

Part 1 of 3

Part 2 here

Series: ABC's of Kink

Letter: P is for Public

Wordcount: 2.7k

Tags: SFW, NSFW (part 3 only), fluff, hurt/comfort other stuff maybe

LA!Shanks X AFAB!Reader

Dear gods I loved writing this one

To say you were in a pickle would have been a grievous understatement.

You and a close friend had been caught sneaking around a Marine base after getting the bright idea to break into their treasury vault. For a few years since your father's death you had been down on your luck, and it had seemed a quick ticket to dragging yourself out of the gutter. You had become over that time a particularly skilled thief, and the training you had recieved from your father in blades, not to mention the pair of cutlasses he had smithed for you, didn't hurt your chances.

And you had been forced to give yourself up after your friend was killed while resisting arrest.

Thrown onto a Marine ship bound for Impel Down, locked in the brig with your hands and feet bound in irons. No family, no friends, set to rot for at least the next few years in prison, if not for the rest of your life.

You were fairly certain your situation couldn't possibly get any worse.

The officer guarding the brig was leaning against the desk across from the stairs that led up to the main deck of the ship, polishing his rifle with a rag and gun oil and whistling to himself. He had an easy enough time of it—you were the only prisoner there, and you weren't bothering to give him a hard time. You had been aboard the damnable ship for three days, stiff and sore from your limited range of movement in the heavy shackles clamped around your wrists and ankles, the gravity of your situation weighing heavily on you, and there really wasn't any fight left in you.

Sudden shouting from the deck overhead made him pause and look up the stairs, his brow furrowing under the brim of his cap as you both listened.

"Open fire!"

"Pirates!"

"All hands! Man the guns!"

The officer glanced into your cell, shouldering his rifle as he tossed his rag on the desk and pointed at you.

"Not a peep, wench."

You just leaned back against the wall of the cell with a sigh. "Yup."

So your situation could get worse. Wonderful.

The ship rattled and shook, the cannon fire making your ears ring. Bits of the ceiling fell into the cell around you. You flinched when a hole was blown through the wall of the cell next to your own, the cannon ball rolling across the floor and clanging against the bars. Rather than rotting in prison, you were just flat out going to die.

A fitting end for a miserable few years.

And then all at once, you heard another voice call for ceasefire. The cannon fire stopped first, and slowly the sounds of fighting on the deck above your head fell into relative silence, peppered with animated chatter and laughter.

That could only mean one thing—the Marines had lost.

And your suspicions were confirmed when, a few minutes later, one of the senior cadets on board burst through the doors and sprinted down the stairs into the brig in an outright panic, whimpering, attempting to draw his pistol with shaking hands—but not before he was followed by a broad-shouldered man with a long black ponytail, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, holding a large rifle with one hand and leveling the barrel between the young Marine's eyes.

The pirates had won. You weren't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Oh, don't shoot the kid, Benn, just get him restrained."

You watched another pirate stroll down the stairs and lean into the wall at the edge of them, bright red hair framing his face, a long black cape hanging around one of his shoulders, and a pair of cutlasses slung over his shoulder—your cutlasses. He set them lightly on the desk and patted his crewmate on the shoulder a couple times as he passed.

There was only one man on the Grand Line that matched his description, and even having lived in a town too far inland to have had much experience with pirates, you had heard of him—Red-Haired Shanks, captain of the Red Hair Pirates, who held one of the highest bounties in the world.

"Be quicker to shoot him." Benn shrugged a shoulder. "Or just coldcock him over the head."

"Kid's probably already shit himself." Shanks grabbed a coil of rope from the wall and tossed it across to him. "No use adding injury to insult."

Benn rolled his eyes over toward his captain...and then his gaze flicked back a bit, landing on you as you glanced warily between him and Shanks. Benn gave a nod toward your cell, and your heart went from racing to ceasing entirely when Shanks turned his head and locked his gaze with your own.

He lifted his eyebrows a bit, his dark brown eyes glinting.

"Well, hello there." You swallowed as he approached the cell slowly. He wrapped his hand around one of the bars, leaning forward. Evidently your anxiousness was written all over your face, as he said next, reassuringly, "Don't worry love, we don't bite. Unless you make the idiot decision of opening fire on my ship," he added, raising his voice just a bit and tilting his head to look back at the Marine cadet, who was putting up absolutely no fight over having his hands tied behind his back now.

Shanks directed his gaze back over to you, flashing a charming grin. "So what're ya in for, sweetheart?"

You took a deep breath, and forced yourself to speak. "I—I, er—"

"She snuck into the base in Nanohana and attempted to break into the treasury vault," the cadet chimed in, and flinched as Benn shoved him down to sit against the wall.

He then grabbed the gun-oil rag from the desk and stuffed it in the cadet's mouth.

"Nobody asked you, kid," he said, leaning against the adjacent wall and crossing his arms, his rifle propped up against the wood paneling beside him.

Shank's grin only widened at that. "Did you really?" You nodded shortly, and he chuckled. "God, what a horrible crime," he went on, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Everyone knows the World Government is horrifically impoverished and doesn't have a single Berry to spare." He leaned a bit closer, resting his head against one of the iron bars. "How far did you get?"

"W...we had just gotten the vault open before we were surrounded," you said quietly. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, as they widened and his eyebrows shot up toward his hairline, completely taken aback.

"Impressive," he said, his eyes passing over you slowly. He bit the corner of his lip thoughtfully, before his eyes returned to yours. "You said we. You have a crew?"

You shook your head. "It was just me and my friend. Well...more like my brother, really." Your eyes dropped to your knees for a moment. "He didn't make it," you said quietly, still not quite able to process it. Your best friend, your only friend, who you had known for twenty-three years, since you were a toddler.

Gone.

When you lifted your eyes back to the red-haired captain, his expression had softened considerably, mouth turned down in a small frown, his amusement replaced with genuine concern. "I'm terribly sorry to hear that, sweetheart," he said gently. He drew in a deep breath, and let it out as a slow sigh, before flipping his cape out of the way and taking a seat on the floor—and you noticed with a bit of shock as the cloak shifted that the left sleeve of his loose white shirt was empty.

He rest his elbow on his knee, leaning his chin into his palm, hand curled over his mouth for a long moment.

"Arabasta is around three days from here," he said finally. "Provided the wind cooperates, and honestly we could do with making port. We'd be more than happy to take you home."

You swallowed, your heart still pounding, still anxious, but for a different reason now. This man, who didn't even know your name, who was gazing at you with a gentle compassion spread across his handsome features that you were entirely unaccustomed to, offering to go out of his way just to get you home—this man had a bounty of over three billion berries?

After a moment, you shook your head. "Wouldn't be much use," you said, shrugging a shoulder. "I don't exactly have a home."

"Any family?" You shook your head—your father's death had been wholly unexpected, and led ultimately to the closing of his smithy, where the two of you and your "brother"—his apprentice—had also lived. Within less than a month you had been on the streets. "Friends?"

His face fell a little more every time you shook your head no. He ran the pad of his index finger over the top of his lips, glancing briefly at Benn.

Back at you, looking at you almost like you were a poor, abandoned puppy he wanted to take home.

He glanced at Benn again, longer this time, until his first mate sighed, straightening out from the wall. "I'll figure out who's got the keys," he said, already starting toward the door.

"Good man."

From the slam you heard, you were fairly sure he kicked the door open at the top, and his voice boomed over the loght chatter on the deck.

"Alright, you assholes. I'm gonna ask one of you who's got the keys to the brig. I don't get an answer in ten seconds, you're getting an extra hole in your head, and I move onto the next guy."

Your eyes widened a little as you looked toward the stairs, moving back over to Shanks as he laughed a little.

"Has a real knack for subtlety, doesn't he?" he said with a crooked grin. He leaned back, planting his hand on the floor behind him. "Seems you have two options, love. You can stay here, with a bunch of tied up Marines who want to take you—where, Impel Down?" You nodded, and he returned the nod. "Or..." He cooked his head slightly to one side, his grin widening a little. "We can break you out of here and you can come with us."

You blinked a few times. "And...go where?" you said slowly.

Her shrugged a shoulder. "Wherever the wind and the waves carry us."

He was asking you to join his crew. You felt your eyes widen a bit, and Shanks laughed softly when he saw his meaning had sunk in.

"I'd choose the latter option, personally," he said. "Never hurts to have another good thief on board."

"You...can't really say I'm a good thief, given..." You glanced down pointedly at the iron shackles around your ankles. "Well, circumstances."

"Ah..." He waved his hand dismissively. "Everyone makes mistakes early in their career. How long have you been thieving?"

"Two years," you said. "Since my father died. Mostly just...pick-pocketing and sneaking money pouches off vendors. This was the first actual break-in."

His eyes widened a bit. "Your first actual break-in," he said slowly, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk, "was into a Marine base in a major city?"

You shrugged a shoulder, and nodded. He huffed out a sigh, shaking his head.

"Oh, I like you," he said in a low, flirtatious tone, his eyes making a slow pass over you that made your heart speed up and blood rush to your cheeks. "So tell me, princess...." He finally leaned forward again, resting his arm across his knee, and went on with a debonair grin. "Is there a pretty name to go with that pretty face?"

You managed to stammer out your name, your eyes wide as saucers. His smile softened as he shook his head a little, his gaze locked firmly onto yours as he spoke one word softly.

"Beautiful."

You jumped when the door opened, and both of you looked over as Benn descended the stairs, flicking a spent cigarette butt at the Marine cadet still seated in the corner. He tossed a ring of keys over to Shanks.

"Already informed everyone we have a new thief on the crew," he said flatly, tossing a ring of keys over to Shanks.

Shanks swiped them out of the air, grinning. "And how do you know that? I don't recall telling you."

Benn gave him a look equally as flat as his tone.

"Oh, lighten up, you grumpy old bastard," said Shanks jovially, pulling himself to his feet. Your eyes were glued to the keys as he flipped one out and tried it in the cell lock.

It didn't open.

"So what're we doing about this?" said Benn, gesturing broadly. "Caravel full of tied up Marines. Sink her? Just leave her adrift?"

Shanks shrugged. "Might as well just leave it. Take anything that isn't nailed to the floor."

There was a muffled sound of protest in the corner, and both men turned their gaze to the cadet.

Shanks tried the second key, with no success, as the cadet managed to turn his head and tug the cloth out of his mouth with traction from the shoulder of his coat. "Y—you can't just—there's no telling when another Marine ship will come by!"

Shanks snorted. "Or another pirate ship." He flipped to the next key, smirking. "So you'd rather I sink her?"

"W—well, no, but—but we—"

Benn had evidently heard enough. He rolled his eyes as he stooped down to pick up the cloth, and the cadet's jaw snapped shut immediately. Sighing in irritation, he grabbed the kid by his nose and held his nostrils shut until he was forced to open his mouth to take a gasp of air.

And Benn immediately shoved the cloth back into his mouth, and pointed a finger an inch from his nose. "Do it again and it'll be the last thing you ever do. Got it?"

The cadet nodded quickly, his eyes wide circles of terror.

The third key turned, and the lock clicked. You expelled a heavy sigh of relief at the sound. Shanks chuckled lightly as he watched you lean your head back against the damp wall behind you. "No need to worry, love," he said, kneeling down at your feet and flipping to the attached set of smaller keys for the cuffs and shackles. "I can pick a lock when I need to." He freed the first one, leveling his eyes with yours, and a small shiver coursed up your spine as he reached out and brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, his thumb briefly caressing your flushed cheek. "I'm not letting a few iron bars and chains keep me from you."

"Oh dear god," Benn grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes, and you almost giggled a little, biting your lip. The guy wasn't wrong, Shanks was laying it on pretty thick.

Though you weren't really complaining.

Shanks glanced back at him as he set to unlocking the second shackle, feigning surprise. "Oh, are you still here?" he said with a sarcastic smirk. He turned his attention back to the irons. "I fear I forgot there was anyone else in the room for a moment."

He glanced up and gave you a little wink before tossing the shackles away, and touched your shoulder lightly to indicate for you to lean forward so he could get to the cuffs wrapped around your wrists.

Benn leveled his eyes with yours, glancing at his captain, and gave a small snort of laughter. "Good luck."

And with that, he headed back up the stairs.

"Oh, don't listen to him, sweetheart."

Shanks chuckled, leaning over you to quickly unlock the shackles, so close you could feel the heat of his body, smell the leathery scent of his cologne mingling with a subtler hint of spiced rum. Your heart raced as he stood back up, dropped the cuffs, and held out his hand, smiling.

You hesitated for the briefest of moments, before placing your hand in his. He pulled you to your feet...and then flush against his chest, grinning as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"I promise I'm perfectly harmless."

#opla #one piece shanks #red haired shanks #shanks #shanks one piece #shanks x reader #help i love him #one piece fan fiction #opla fanfiction #fluff #hurt/comfort

[amtrak-official]

Split Ticket Voting, you buy a train ticket and split it between the 3 canudates you like most, whichever one reaches San Francisco Alive wins

#unreality

[cheaptrainticketsuk]

#split ticketing #split train tickets #split my tickets #split my fare #split rail tickets #split your ticket

[bellafox2144]

Escape the January blues!  60% off Liverpool train tickets, say goodbye to FOMO!

Escape the January blues with a 60% discount on Liverpool train tickets! Don't miss out on the savings at https://splitsaving.co.uk/. Say goodbye to FOMO and plan your getaway now!

#TravelDeals #TrainTickets #JanuaryEscape #Savings #LiverpoolTravel #FOMOFree #BookNow

#split train tickets #split saving #liverpool train tickets

[onaa-ohokthen]

So it turns out that the reason Americans don't take trains isn't just that they're few, it also turns out that amtrak has gone out of their motherfucking way to make the process as uncomfortable, scary, panic inducing, slow, annoying and inefficient as possible:

- there is a check-in process

- you have to be wait in the building, you can't go on the platform until boarding starts

-yeah, there's "boarding". It starts and ends. Oh, the train has arrives and everyone has stepped off? You still can't get on, "boarding hasn't started".

- there's one gate for each train, meaning there's one giant line around the room.

- they check the tickets three times by the time the train starts, at the "gate", ten steps lager when physically boarding the train, and later on the train.

- supposedly on Cascades, it's "unassigned seating", which is fine, but then a dude tells you which part of the train you're allowed to get onto, so each one fills up and families are split up between different rows despite most of the train being empty at our stop.

The US do something right for once challenge: impossible

#anyway I'm unhappy #I hate flying and they just took the worst parts of flying and applied it to trains #amtrak #train

[purinfelix]

What about Felix and famous!reader????

pairing: joao felix x formula one driver reader summary: you're a famous formula one driver with a footballer boyfriend who's almost as famous warnings: none! some cringey couple things here and there though so be warned ...

a/n: ANON YOUR MINDD OMGG - also hope you don't mind that i made reader a formula one driver bc i think the dynamic would fit hehe also ?? first request ever AND first headcanon-style post? look at me go

a little backstory ...

✦ It all starts at an airport - you and your team making your way to the next race whilst he and Barcelona are travelling home. Just as you’re walking through the airport terminal you manage to lock eyes with him for a split second, the sides of his lips curling into a smile. You feel yourself blush and stop in your tracks before being ushered along by your manager. You don't know it then, but the mysterious boy had also turned around to catch one last glimpse of you before your figure disappeared through the terminal gates. At least, as much of a glimpse as he could get before his teammates caught on with jeering whistles and teasing remarks.

✦ It’s just your luck that a couple of fans who had been waiting for either of your teams caught a couple clips of this moment and post it online - and it becomes the ultimate content for edits, shipping conspiracies, and videos. 

✦ From there on, things blow up. Clips of you watching his games or shots of him with your instagram posts open on his phone go viral amongst a flurry of dating rumours. 

✦ You first connect over these silly videos, but once you actually get to know each other you realise there’s actual chemistry between you two and eventually start dating - which you accidentally announce to the world after Joao scores a goal and points up to you in the stands (needless to say the internet was very happy that night) 

✦ On attending his games - him always insisting you have the best view (especially of him), enough tickets for anyone you want to bring, and every single one of his jerseys to wear 

✦ And vice versa, him attending your races and just being so supportive of you - he never wants you to feel like you’re just a wag, and is always sure to elevate your own success and achievements over your relationship 

✦ Always wearing your merch, sharing your posts about your recent wins in races, his instagram has just become a fanpage for you at this point - and he’s totally not complaining  

✦ Football fans finding out about you through him (“Wait Joao Felix’s partner is like some athlete? I thought they were just a wag lol they’re actually cool”) and Formula One fans finding out about him through you (“You mean to tell me Joao Felix as in y/n’s boyfriend actually does stuff and isn’t just their trophy boyfriend???”) 

✦ With that being said, your relationship does involve some long-distance periods because of both of your professions but both of you put in so much effort that it works. Though it’s not easy, he definitely makes up for it whenever you two do get to meet up by spoiling you rotten and spending as much time with you as possible. 

✦ Him CONSTANTLY getting teased by the team, but never learning his lesson and continues to bring you up at every single opportunity (he can’t help it, he’s just so proud of you :(( ) 

“Dude, cmon.” Pedri huffs as another one of Joao’s shots rebound off of the goal post during a cold morning training.  “Hey cut him some slack, he’s probably thinking about his partner,” Gavi’s tone is teasing as he says this, poking at Joao’s sides as the taller boy snarls in response. Even so, he can’t help but smile a little at the mention of you.  “Can you blame me? Did you guys see them last night? They were amazing, I mean Their overtakes were amazing and going from P10 to P3 is insa-” he begins, but is cut off by the groans of his teammates around him who all go off to train on their own. He doesn’t mind though, since he’s the one who’s lucky to have a partner worth bragging about.

✦ Is quite possessive and protective, not because he doesn’t trust you to be loyal or take care of yourself but because he knows what kinds of dangers being famous can pose and he wants to be able to help you through them. 

✦ Whenever you attend award ceremonies together his hand never leaves your waist, partially because he feels a little awkward without you (introvert bf things) but also because he just likes the feeling of having you close to him at all times 

✦ OMG you guys have such a Barbie and Ken dynamic - esp that one audio that’s like “Barbie has a great day every day, but Ken only has a great day if Barbie looks at him.” 

✦ Overall you guys are generally adored by everyone, as much as Felix gets teased by his teammates, fans, and media outlets alike <33 

And a little something extra for my formula one / football girlies - I present to you: Carlos the Madridista reacting to you dating a Barcelona player 

“No, I will not have this.” Carlos throws his hands up in frustration as he begins to walk away from you two. It’s Joao’s first time visiting you on the grid since you’ve ‘officially’ announced your relationship, and you wanted to introduce him to someone you considered a big brother. Only thing was, you had forgotten how deep the rivalry between the team Carlos supported, Real Madrid, and your boyfriend’s team ran.  “Carlos, please,” you sound exasperated but in reality you’re trying to hold back laughter at how dramatic his reaction is.  “You didn’t tell me your boyfriend was a Barcelona player?”  “What does it matter?”  “How could you?!” Carlos exclaims, his voice making it clear how betrayed he feels at your decision. Next to you, your boyfriend tenses up - you can tell how nervous he is to be meeting your group of friends and so you take his hand in yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. Even so, this entire situation is hilarious to you.  “Oh get over yourself,” you huff.  Eventually, you manage to get the two of them to sit down and have a proper man-to-man conversation in which they realise they have more in common than they think - the most obvious being both of them caring for you which they seem to have no problem bonding over. Needless to say, Carlos’ hatred of the opposing club might’ve lessened a little that day. 

#formula one/football #formula one football crossover #football fanfic #football fluff #joao felix #joao felix fanfic #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix fluff #joao felix fic #joao felix headcanons #purinfelix #jet writes ★ #jet answers ✧

[bexieawfc]

         remember that night? / alessia russo x reader

part 2 to i’ll wait forever 

inspiration: remember that night - sara keys

word count: 3.1k

the day after you said goodbye, 

all i did was lay in bed and cry

it’s the day after you’ve ended it with alessia, and despite the fact you were due to stay a week longer, you knew that wouldn’t be smart. and so with a stroke of luck paired with an incredibly helpful airline assistant you’ve been able to swap your ticket for an earlier flight home for no additional costs. 

you didn’t even have the heart to go back into her dorm yesterday to collect your belongings, knowing that seeing the blonde again whilst the pain was still so raw would in fact be too much ache for your fragile little heart and so as a mutual friend, lotte agreed to collect your things and has now driven you to raleigh airport.

you’re sat in the airport, the airport seat uncomfortable and cold and yet that pails in comparison to the uncomfortable ache in your chest, as you refuse to let yourself cry in front of absolute strangers as you so anxiously await the overhead speakers to call your flight as ready to board. with your mind swarming of thoughts of one blonde beauty each second that passes feels like an absolutely draining minute and even the sound of your foot tapping against the floor, or the idle chatter around you cannot drown out the thudding of your heart against your chest. and at that same moment in time, alessia is laid in her dorm room freely allowing the sobs to echo around her room. the dorm room that had felt like home to her for so many months, now felt empty and foreign - as if it no longer belonged to her because you weren’t in it.

but after one month i started to move on

and after two, i felt alright

it was a gradual process for alessia as she tried to move on from you. she threw herself completely into training and football, not wanting to give her mind any minute to stop and think about you or recall the countless times her thumb had hovered over her phone almost calling you, so desperate to just hear the sound of your voice. but you weren’t hers anymore, and she just had to learn to deal with that. no matter how much it hurt. her friends and coach eventually learned to stop mentioning you because every time they did alessia’s features would gloss over and they’d either be met with an emotional outburst and an aggravated one - and neither was something they wanted. 

then three months in you were off my mind 

then month four and five, i was living my life

the day before alessia was due to return home to england was the same day you realised, neither of you had told her family about you two splitting up. you hadn’t had to worry about telling your own family, but you hadn’t even thought about hers. maybe you wrongfully assumed she would of told them, given how close she is to her family and how unable she is to keep big secrets from them. and so when the text from luca pops up on your phone, you feel your heart ache all over again as you recall the moment you ended things, the moment your own heart shattered as you watched yourself rip out her heart too.

luca: hey y/n! so tomorrow, paps is gonna be driving all of us to the airport, need us to pick you up? or are you meeting us there?

your words get caught in your throat, and you’re not even sure if you remember how to breathe in that moment as your hands clam up, fingers shaking over your phone screen. how are you meant to tell someone that you broke their sister’s heart all because you couldn’t handle the distance?

y/n: oh hey luca. uhm, no i won’t be meeting you there or needing a lift. i’ll let alessia explain why as it deserves to come from her... sorry x

fast forwards 8 months

24.07 - the date of your graduation. a date that felt incredibly bittersweet for a number of reasons. to finally be finished with your degree that you had poured an incredulous amount of blood, sweet and many many tears into was incredible. considering there were days you almost dropped out, to now be stood about to walk across the stage to receive the diploma is enough to make you feel dizzy and drunk off the feeling for days to come. but then as you glance out to your friends and family, there’s still only one pair of crystal blues you wish you would lock gaze with. even after all this time. and you know it’s silly and acting a lovesick fool but for so much of your life, alessia had been all you’d ever known and now you were trying to form a life without her in it and it was hard. but step one was accepting the reality and not living in a dream fantasy. 

unbeknownst to you, she had wanted to come. she even put an outfit on and everything but then couldn’t drag her feet to the door. couldn’t bare the idea of seeing you as someone who wasn’t hers to call her own anymore. you weren’t somewhere she could call home anymore, even though the lull of your heartbeat was more familiar to her ears than her own phones ring tone. she used to swear she’d be the one cheering loudest for you at your graduation, and yet now here she was sat in silence in her bedroom, salt tears sliding down rosy cheeks. 

oh i don’t think you realise 

how long i had to fight to be living my life

both you and the blonde had fully gone your own ways since you ended things that day in north carolina, her with her football and you with your media studies. after you’d graduated from university you took any little presenting or media gigs that you could get, even if just to help build up a resume. and it was hard at first, small little occasional gigs or social media jobs - you were beginning to build a name for yourself but it certainly wasn’t easy. some months the small jobs only just covered your rent and you knew if you were going to be serious about this as your career, you had to take a big plunge somewhere. and so, you pack up and move to london and it’s scary and oh so risky but one thing you’ve learnt is life is never easy, and the right choices are scary and can seem too painful at first. but if everything happens for a reason, then it’ll work out in the end right? 

within a month of moving to london, you land a job at capital radio and almost like the flick of a light switch your turn flips for the better and the loneliness and sacrifices made suddenly all pay off.  

31.07.2022

that monumental day in history. since starting as a regular capital radio dj, somewhere along the line you’ve ended up befriending alex scott (of course with zero complaints by either you or her and if anything, you consider her one of your closest friends nowadays) just you do have to occasionally pinch yourself that this is your life now. and so, she of course hooked both herself and you up with tickets to the final of the womens euro, alex completely unaware of the history you share with the blonde striker brandishing the 23 on her back. you knew of her close friendship with leah, had heard multiple stories from the brunette about her, but part of you was glad to have not seen leah yet today. because deep down you knew wherever leah was, it meant lessi wasn’t that far behind her either, and you’re still unsure what kind of reaction to expect since you’ve had zero contact with her all this time.

truth be told, you hadn’t been at a football match since ending things with alessia and so now, you no longer know how to behave. before it was easy, russo top on your back and screaming as loud as you can exclaiming how proud of ‘your girl’ you are. but now, you’re just in a red halter crop top and white shorts - to at least match england’s national colours. sat in the stand at wembley glancing at a packed stadium does fill you with pride though, even if you haven’t attended matches you’ve of course kept up with the growth of womens football and you couldn’t be happier for those girls walking onto the pitch that they had a packed out stadium to cheer for them, and you just hoped that for them, that became the norm.

the game almost feels like a whirlwind of a blur and after a near gruelling 120 minutes soon the sound of the whistle blows out. they’ve done it. england are european champions. the screams ring out across the stadium and mixtures of elations can be seen - from sobbing, jumping, screaming or falling to the floor, there’s so many emotions happening around you and yet - you’re just stood, taking it all in. because you can’t stop the little thought bugging at the edge of your mind - the what ifs. the way your heart yearns to go and celebrate with alessia even though you can’t. the way you want to tell her how proud you are but you won’t. you’ve finally started to live a life that doesn’t involve her, surely you can’t break down those walls now.

later that evening 

of course you knew there would be celebrations, but what you didn’t expect was for alex to basically beg you to tag along and come to the celebrations with her, and the want to scream about your history with alessia making you want to go sits on the tip of your tongue, almost breaking free past your lips. but it doesn’t, and instead teeth practically bite the words away as you bite down on your lip. the words that do leave however are your agreement to go and now you’re stood in your hotel room, a simple black dress adorning your body and block heels on your feet. 

“are you ready yet?” you hear alex practically scream from outside your hotel room and you can’t help but laugh, grabbing your clutch bag and stepping out, before following her to the cab and making your way to the venue where the celebrations would be.

arriving at the venue you’re greeted with a complimentary glass of champagne, the liquid cooling as it slides down your throat, and you can’t tell if the fizz in your stomach is the bubbles from your drink or the nerves from being in the same building as alessia after so long.

the night goes well early on, you practically glue yourself to alex’s side in the beginning considering other than your ex and lotte, she’s really the only person you know well enough to be around here. what did feel weird is a lot of the lionesses almost seeming shy around you, or when leah told you that you were her current favourite radio dj - definitely another pinch me kinda moment from the day.

eventually you find your social confidence away from alex, chatting away to mixtures of different people whilst somehow almost perfectly avoiding any interactions with alessia. and it wasn’t to say neither of you were unaware, you’d both caught eye contact on multiple occasions throughout the night, both shared those glances that lasted a little too long for your hearts liking. and there’s only so long you can handle the non-verbal communications before you decide to walk across, even if just to say a well done. 

you finish the rest of the champagne left in your glass, the sound of your heels against the floor ringing in your ears along with your heartbeat as you walk over to her. you go to open your mouth to congratulate her but she’s faster and beats you to, speaking first. 

“y/n can we talk? outside maybe?” her tone is almost pleading, like she’s scared you’ll say no but also desperate for this opportunity. your mouth that you didn’t even notice was slightly agape closes and you nod your head, suddenly scared of the state of your own voice. 

you follow her outside, the cold night air whipping around you as you step out. it’s almost peaceful out here at the back of the hotel you were at, no-one around to eavesdrop. 

“so.. how have you been?” as soon as the question leaves your lips you want the ground to swallow you up. it’s a dumb question you know that. she’s just won the euros, it’s pretty obvious how she’d be feeling right now anyways. 

alessia leans against the outdoor wall, a very shaky breath tumbling past her lips as she glances across to you. you’re not sure if she was waiting for you to say anything else but then you hear the faintest whisper slide past her plump lips. 

“i miss you..” and had you both still been inside you’re sure you wouldn’t of heard her say that but it tugs at your heartstrings. you’ve worked so hard on moving on, creating a life without her and now stood here, you’re worried all that hard work and pain is just going to come crumbling down. 

“less i..” is all you breath out before she stops you, interrupting your speech with a bit more volume to her voice this time. 

“no y/n please.. it’s been so fucking hard without you these past years. it’s like i don’t know who i am when i’m not around you. every football game i’d always look out expecting to see you in the stands and then i’d remember and the sadness would come crashing down around me again. and when i came back to england and had to break the news to my family, it hit me all over again and.. i don’t even know what i’m trying to say or what i’m expecting to happen from this interaction just... i miss you. i’m not me without you.” 

her words came out so fast it takes you a second after to fully process the words she’s saying. to process that she’s struggled too despite your misbelief that she was doing fine. everyone told you she was doing fine so you assumed you should be too. but now, maybe they’d been lying this whole time. 

the words spoke are also a confirmation she meant it when she said forever. she hadn’t moved on, whether she’d tried to or not was unknown to you but that confession all but confirmed that she hadn’t. you haven’t been able to look at, your eyes instead staring down at your feet scared that you’ll get lost in her ocean eyes and let your guard down that you had spent so long building.

“less, we’re both different people now with different lives and...” 

“stop trying to push me away!” alessia all but screams in retaliation, and you almost feel yourself flinch at the sudden increase in volume as you finally allow your gaze to travel up to her face.

she steps towards you, there now basically any gap and your breath hitches in your throat all over again. 

“y/n.. look. okay fine. tell me that you didn’t miss me, not even once not even a little bit. tell me that you’re completely fully over me and feel nothing at all. tell me there’s not even a single chance of there being an us again. say that and fine, i’ll walk away..” 

her voice is bordering on a mix of shaky and hope. your eyes darting across her face as she speaks and the words and the close proximity has you crumbling. because the truth was, you had missed her. you’ve missed everything about her, from waking up feeling her strong arms wrapped around you, to the way she had memorised every single one of your orders for each different coffee shop or restaurant you visited, the way her fingers intertwined perfectly with hers. you missed her, and there was sure no way you could deny that. 

“i.... i can’t say that.” you just about manage to breathe out as you feel a lone tear slide down your cheek. alessia’s thumb is quick to lift up and wipe that tear away and the feel of her thumb against your skin sets off a whirlwind of butterflies that you’d forgotten could feel like. there was no use denying it, you weren’t over alessia. you never had been over alessia.

“but... i don’t think i can risk having to say another goodbye..” 

“then, don’t..” she whispers in response, almost as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world to her. 

tongue darts out to glide across her lips, and in an attempt to bring moisture back to her mouth she coughs slightly before moving her hand away stepping back slightly to extend it out in front of you. 

“hi, i’m alessia.” the look of confusion is clearly evident on your features, considering you knew damn well who she was. 

“lessi what are you doing?” you question, a soft giggle sliding out your lips afterwards. 

“i believe some would call it starting over. a clean state. i’m calling it, me asking for another chance. even just to have you back in my life.” 

you smile softly before reaching out your own hand to connect with hers. “well then, hi alessia, i’m y/n.” 

“y/n... pretty name.” she teases and there’s soft giggles passing both your lips.

sure, there’s still wounds left unhealed, and some words left unspoken, but this is a second chance for both of you. an opportunity to put the past behind you and focus on the future. 

and, you were definitely looking forward to what the future would have in store for your and the blonde beauty.

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #my fics

[metaphorical-goblin]

Thinking about Mia screaming at someone (not Morgan, Morgan would not fight her as she left), hand wrapped around her own necklace heavy with beads (heavy with power, study and training lining the edges), and tearing it away from her neck, beads clinking to the ground like heavy raindrops, her magatama digging into her sweaty palm

and thinking about Maya watching quietly from behind a cracked door, tears rolling down her face as she watches her sister shout (or curled up in bed, hands cupped over her ears, shaking, because this isn’t something new, isn’t really unusual from their routine)

about doors flying open, hands tearing clothes out of drawers as Mia stuffs a bag full (and would she have stopped if Maya clung to the sides of her robes, begged her to stay? Did she stop, if Maya did?)

or about a quiet evening flight, where Mia packs a suitcase for weeks, one she pawned off a passing-by-traveler who didn’t want it anymore because a big tear split through the side (nothing a needle and strong thread couldn’t fix, mind you), about a silent exit in the dead of night, about a ticket for the last train that left Kurain without so much as twinkling lights to wish her goodbye, good luck

Does she say goodbye to Maya, then? Does she wake her younger sister from her sleep and pull her close, whisper that she’s doing this for them, for their mother, for her. Does she kiss her forehead and tuck her back in?

Or is the only thing that Maya gets a scribbled note on her bedside table in the morning, without so much as an apology written on it?

(Does Mia know that she is still clinging to her magatama? Does she even know it’s still digging into her palm until she leaves?)

#ace attorney #maya fey #mia fey #having thoughts about the Feys #I might write this eventually. I like thinking about Maya #angst #sorry I realize now I should tag for that lol

[frenchkisstheabyss]

7 Psychopaths: Yeonjun

x Summary: You are X, a seasoned assassin, and your boss has just assigned you an unusual task. You have two weeks to gather six men for a top-secret mission that requires their unique brand of psychopathy. The trick is, you've got romantic history with all of them.

A detail that might make this a walk in the park or the fight of your life. Time to find out...

x Pairing: assassin!yeonjun x assassin!chubby!fem!reader

x Genre: angst/crime au/smut

x Word Count: 2.1k

x Warnings: violence, blood, knives, guns, general criminal activity, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, strong language (naturally), a smidge of rough sex but nothing crazy, misogynists and xenophobes get their karma quite painfully

x A/N: This is #1 in a series of 6 stories featuring members of TXT/ATEEZ/Stray Kids. They all follow the same theme and can be read chronologically or you can jump around. I support the chaos.

| | Next Psychopath: Lee Know | |

This? This is bullshit.

You should be sitting first class on that bullet train to Kyoto right now, sipping tea as you watch the bustling streets of Tokyo fade into a blur of neon light. Instead, your ticket is ripped to shreds at the bottom of a gutter two countries over and you’re slumming it in the back alleys of Nowhere. With the exception of a few flickering streetlights ahead of you, it’s almost too dark to cast a shadow out here. “Too dark,” insists one of the drunken assholes trailing behind you, “For a pretty little thing like you to be out here all alone.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you count five of them. The ring leader, let’s call him Red Shirt, has enough liquid courage in him to lead the pack in announcing every filthy thing they’d do with you if you let them. You roll your eyes, pushing forward to your destination, dying to escape them and the unpleasant stench that the mugginess after tonight’s rainstorm has left lingering in the air. “She’s not listening to us,” teases Black Jacket, “Maybe she thinks she’s too good for you.”

The childhood trauma of rejection at the hands of an unloving mother flips a switch inside of Red Shirt that he’d know was there if he’d gone to therapy like his ex suggested and he’s charging towards you in seconds. Shoving your hands in the pockets of your long leather jacket, you take a deep breath, bracing yourself for a confrontation that you aren’t even kind of in the mood for. There are much bigger things to worry about tonight. Much more pressing issues than Red Shirt and his band of sexually insecure misfits.

You reach the edge of the alley, almost clear of the group, when a hand slams down on your shoulder squeezing tightly enough to leave a bruise. “I know you hear me talking to you! Do you know what we do to girls like you around here?” Red Shirt hisses, venom dripping from his words. Grasping the handles of the switchblades in your pockets, you whip around, unfolding them at the speed of light and burying them in his shoulders. The flesh squishes like raw meat on a butcher's slab. You love to hear it.

Red Shirt drops to his knees, deep burgundy blood soaking through his shirt and dripping down his shoulders. The scream of anguish he lets out is enough to split the earth in two. The other four stumble back, the shock of their leader groveling in pain for likely the first time ever enough to make them want to shit themselves. You stare down at him, your eyes cold and void of any sympathy, “You know what I do to guys like you?” Twisting the blades, one of them knicks bone, making him whine like a wounded animal.

“Do you want me to show you?” you ask, smiling warmly, “Or are you gonna gather your friends and get the fuck away from me before I make sure you never use these arms again?” There’s an attempt at speaking. A croak, drowned out by the waterfall of tears rushing down his cheeks. “What’s that? I can’t quite hear you.”

“Leave. We. Leave” he manages.

It’s not the groveling that you’re used to but it’ll have to do for now. The blades ease out of his shoulders smooth as butter. His body hits the concrete hard enough that he early splashes water---at least you hope it’s just water---on your high-heeled boots. You squat down, casually cleaning your blades on his shirt. “If it makes you feel any better” you sigh, “Red is your color.”

“Do I have to talk slower so that you understand me? I Don’t. Owe. You. Shit.” 

The words of the cocky American cooking up dope in the basement of this hole in the wall laundromat echo in Yeonjun’s mind. They call him San Jose for the time he spent in California locked away in a supermax prison. You learn a lot when you’re shoved into a cage in a strange new place with people you don’t know. And, for Yeonjun, English was one of those things. This American didn’t need to speak slower. San Jose understood him the first time.

The insult was just overkill which is precisely why he feels no guilt popping coins into the max load dryer the American’s currently folded into. The window's smeared with blood from the bones that had to be broken to wedge him in there, to begin with. Messy but necessary. Beneath the stained floors, marbled with dirt, Yeonjun’s associates facilitate more bloodshed among the guards too loyal or too stupid to run before things got this bad.

“You don’t have to do this!” the American begs, suddenly confident in the lack of a language barrier, “Please! I’ll get you your money! I promise!” Yeonjun taps at the glass, watching the American squirm like a panicked fish swimming in poisoned water. “So sorry” Yeonjun apologizes, “I don’t speak English.” The press of a button sets off the buzzing noise that signals the start of a cycle. 

Tiny green lights glow beside the options Yeonjun patiently selected. Cycle: Heavy. Heat: High. Door: Locked.

There’d been a point where this was all about the money. But now? If he handed it over Yeonjun would throw it into the dryer and let it burn right along with him. Hypnotized by the clanking of the American’s body as the drum makes its labored turns, Yeonjun almost doesn’t hear the front door creak open. You stop dead in your tracks when you’re greeted by the barrel of a 45 ACP pistol. I said he almost didn’t hear the door. Just almost.

You throw your hands up, more as a peace offering than a sign of surrender. “You aren’t gonna shoot me are you, Yeon---” “You don’t get to call me that anymore, X” he snaps, raking his fingers through his platinum blonde hair, “You’ve got 10 seconds to turn around before I pull this trigger.” “Yeon---” He turns to you, his left eye twitching, and cocks the pistol. “San Jose” you say in an alluring tone, taking baby steps toward him, “I just wanna talk. Five minutes. That’s it. Can you give me that?”

Yeonjun can hardly look at you but he can’t bring himself to turn away. Why are the flowers most likely to kill you always the prettiest to look at? He groans, his rage softened by the sight of your face after almost a year apart, “Five minutes.”

Bent over the wooden desk in the manager’s office, you dig your heels into the floor, desperate to keep your trembling legs from giving out. You could say that you’d forgotten what it was like to have Yeonjun’s tongue performing acrobatics inside of your tight pussy but that would be a lie. There’s simply no way to forget how talented this man is with his tongue. Your memory though, pales in comparison to the real thing, and experiencing it for the first time in a long time has juices dripping down your lush thighs.

From his position behind you, the second time you’ve had a man on his knees tonight, Yeonjun’s fingers press into the softness of your ass. It looks glorious beneath the teal overhead lighting. Flawless in every way. Just like everything else about you. The taste of you is addictive. Sweet enough to rot his teeth. He squeezes your ass harder, raising you up to create the perfect angle for him to swipe his tongue between the slickness of your folds. His tongue brushes over your clit, making you moan in ways he can’t help but grin at.

“Why me?” he asks between sloppy, eager laps at your slit, “What does your boss want me for?” Nails tapping on the desk, nearly scratching the cheap plywood, you arch your back at the tugging in your lower belly. “She has plans. Something big and I don’t---aah---question her. I just---fuck.” Your body collapses, a spark traveling through your veins like liquid fire. “I just know she wants you back with us.” Yeonjun rises to his feet, pushing your dress up further to reveal the small of your back. He kisses it with the gentle lips of a man born to be a lover and bred to be a killer.

“But do you want me back?” he asks in a rare moment of vulnerability. You groan, rolling over onto your back, hands covering your face. Spending time with him, talking to him, loving him, the entire experience of being with him had been one of the only things that made waking up in the morning worth it in a life like this. None of it was ever just about the sex, as amazing as it is. It was always about him. Do you want him back? Of course, you do.

The head of his cock nudges at your slit, smearing your juices through the delicate petals of your pussy. Yeonjun runs his hands along your curves, indulging himself in the nostalgia of nights like this. “Do you?” Taking him by the collar of his shirt, you drag him on top of you, kissing him passionately as you lower yourself onto him until every inch is buried within you. “I do” you whisper, the sincerity in your eyes swearing to him that you aren’t lying. You wouldn’t. You can’t.

The feeling of being wanted by you again, knowing that you’ve wanted him all this time, is a high unlike anything else. Your legs wrap around his waist, keeping him flush against you as he dips in and out of you. The ridges of your walls when you clench around him. The blood pumping through those gorgeous veins that travel up his shaft. It’s almost too much. You kiss his forehead, stroking the back of his neck, unsure if that thumping is your heart or the body in the dryer just beyond the door. “I missed you so much” he moans into your chest, licking beads of sweat from between your cleavage. 

“Fuck me harder then. Prove it.” You pose a challenge that he takes on without hesitation. Pinning your arms over your head, one hand keeping your wrists locked together, he thrusts into you with a force that carries a certain finesse civilian men painfully lack. He doesn’t miss a single sweet spot, making every tiny movement count. Every sensation pushes you closer to the edge of oblivion---and the desk. You don’t even have to speak for Yeonjun to know you’re about to cum. Your body tells him. It always has.

That thumping? It was your heart after all, and it’s at maximum volume in your ears as you come undone beneath him. The death grip that your walls have on him, your moisture coating him, leaking out to make a mess of his pants, has him coming right along with you. The warmth in your belly as he fills you up has you silently begging him not to stop, your brain still too lost in ecstasy to formulate more than a few incoherent whimpers. If he had it in him never would but you’re milking him so well, draining him of everything, that all he can do is stumble backwards before you take his soul too.

“Fuck” he pants, his body propped up against the wall behind him, “You’re the devil.” Pushing yourself up, you use what little balance you have to get your clothes back together. You wink at him, throwing your coat back on, “But you love me.” Locking eyes with him, you help him fix his pants, teasing the rim of his tip before tucking it away, “I’ll see you in Berlin then?” “Wouldn’t miss it for the world” he answers, lips hovering dangerously close to yours. You kiss him once more and his arms come around you, desperate to keep you here forever.

A cutesy ringtone blares as your phone vibrates in your pocket. You know by the sound of it that it’s your boss. “Answer it” he insists, kissing you one last time before turning you loose. With the phone in your hand, anticipating an interrogation from your boss, you march out of the manager’s office, ignoring the half conscious man with salami for skin hanging out of the dryer. “You be a good boy now, San Jose!” you shout behind you.

Yeonjun follows you out of the office, shoving the body back into the dryer without taking his eyes off of you, “You can call me Yeonjun again!” You can only laugh to yourself, disappearing back out into the night. You like that name better anyway. 

#yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #txt x reader #txt x you #txt x y/n #txt au #yeonjun angst #yeonjun smut #txt angst #txt smut #chubby reader #plus size reader #thick reader