#digital content consumption

[calculatingwillanchor]

UK Streaming Services Market Size, Share, Forecast 2025-2033

The UK streaming services market reached USD 3,548.01 Million in 2024 and is projected to grow at a CAGR of 22.60% during 2025-2033, reaching a value of USD 22,153.49 Million by 2033. This remarkable growth is being propelled by the rising consumer preference for digital content consumption over traditional formats.

[stressingplant]

It's so fun seeing snippets and fanart of the Digital Circus, a show I don't watch because im not in a "new media consumption" cycle, and then finding out its because the third episode dropped. Its experiencing the cause before finding out the effect from a distance.

[shroomsnsuch]

I am consumed by my addiction to consume. Over consumption is a disease that plagues me and each day I work towards overcoming it. There is progress, and it is slow. I have to remember that it takes more than one day of success and more than one day of failure to tip the scale. Everything is going to be okay.

[listenonrepeat88]

You ever think about how looping videos on YouTube can change the game for your content? It's not just a cool trick—it's a way to boost engagement, keep viewers hooked, and create a signature vibe for your channel.

Just hit that loop button at the bottom of the video player, and watch your content play on repeat! If you can’t find it, no worries—third-party sites can do the trick, too. Use looping for everything from catchy intros to immersive experiences, and you'll make your channel more recognizable and professional.

Looping makes consuming content easier, saves time on production, and amplifies your brand identity. Plus, if things go haywire, there are simple fixes to get it back on track. Perfecting looping can seriously elevate your YouTube strategy—so dive in and start exploring. Happy looping!

[insightfultake]

Is TV Dimming Out? How Social Media is Stealing the Spotlight

In the not-so-distant past, the television stood as the grand oracle of the modern household, a glowing beacon that united families around its hypnotic hum. Yet, as the years have passed, this once-unchallenged monarch of media finds itself increasingly eclipsed by the meteoric rise of social media. This evolution is not merely a shift in preference but a profound reordering of how information is disseminated, consumed, and monetized.

Let us explore the decline of television and its growing irrelevance in the shadow of social media's vast and immediate horizons. From advertising dynamics to the nature of audience engagement, and the relentless timeliness of online platforms, the causes and consequences of this cultural shift are manifold and intricate....Expand to read full story.

[techdriveplay]

What Percentage of Internet Traffic Comes from Mobile Devices?

In today’s digital landscape, mobile devices have become integral to how we access information, connect with others, and conduct business. Understanding the proportion of internet traffic that comes from mobile devices is essential for businesses, marketers, and developers to optimize their strategies and improve user experiences. So, what percentage of internet traffic comes from mobile…

[mattbrittonnyc]

Matt Britton: Elevating Consumer Content Consumption with AI

In today’s rapidly evolving digital landscape, staying abreast of the latest technological advancements and consumer trends is not just beneficial; it's necessary. As brands and businesses strive to connect with their audiences more effectively, understanding the impact of artificial intelligence (AI) on consumer content consumption on digital platforms becomes paramount. To navigate this complex terrain, bringing in a top expert who combines real-world experience with strategic insights can transform an ordinary conference into a pivotal learning opportunity. One such expert is Matt Britton, a renowned AI keynote speaker whose credentials and insights could dramatically elevate the understanding of AI’s role in shaping future consumer behaviors.

Matt Britton, the founder and CEO of the consumer research platform Suzy, is not only a seasoned entrepreneur but also a trusted advisor who has consulted for over half of the Fortune 500 companies. His expertise is further underlined by his status as a bestselling author, with his acclaimed book "YouthNation" building a compelling case on the pivotal role of millennials in reshaping our corporate and consumer environments. His deep dive into new consumer trends and generational impacts makes him one of the top conference speakers, especially on topics that intersect with technology and market evolution.

The Relevance of AI in Consumer Content Consumption

AI technology has revolutionized the way content is curated, customized, and consumed over digital platforms. From algorithms that predict user preferences to machine learning models that improve content delivery, AI is at the forefront of a digital revolution in consumer engagement. For businesses, understanding these technologies and their potential impact on consumer behavior is critical. As an AI expert speaker, Matt Britton can demystify these complex technologies and present them in a way that is not only understandable but also actionable for businesses across various sectors.

Why Matt Britton?

Expertise in AI and Consumer Trends

Matt’s extensive background as a leader in consumer intelligence through his platform, Suzy, gives him firsthand insights into how consumers interact with AI-driven platforms. This direct exposure is invaluable and allows Matt to provide real, actionable insights rather than just theoretical knowledge. His ability to translate complex AI functionalities into strategic business decisions makes him a sought-after AI keynote speaker.

Proven Track Record with Fortune 500 Companies

Having worked with more than half of the Fortune 500, Matt understands the diverse needs and challenges of large organizations. His consultations have helped shape marketing strategies and consumer engagement plans that leverage cutting-edge technologies, including AI. His talks are filled with pertinent case studies and examples that not only highlight successful strategies but also cautionary tales that warn against common pitfalls.

A Bestselling Author on Consumer Trends

"YouthNation," Matt’s bestselling book, is a testament to his expertise in identifying and leveraging new consumer trends. It offers a thorough analysis of how the millennial generation is reshaping the marketplace. As a consumer trend expert and one of the top keynote speakers, Matt uses his literary base to enrich his speeches with data-driven insights and forward-thinking trends.

What Can Audiences Expect from a Keynote Speech by Matt Britton?

Insightful Analysis

Attendees can look forward to a well-rounded analysis of AI’s current and potential future roles in consumer content consumption. Matt’s speeches are designed to provide a deep understanding of how AI technologies are being integrated into digital platforms and what that means for consumer interactions.

Forward-Thinking Strategies

As a visionary thinker, Matt not only presents current trends but also forecasts future shifts in the industry. His ability to predict market trends is invaluable for businesses looking to stay ahead of the curve. His strategic advice often includes innovative ways to integrate AI into consumer interactions to enhance engagement and loyalty.

Engaging Presentation Style

Known for his dynamic and engaging presentation style, Matt ensures that his audience is not just informed but also entertained. His talks are punctuated with real-life examples, interactive sessions, and Q&A rounds that keep the audience engaged and facilitate a better understanding of complex topics.

Actionable Takeaways

Each of Matt’s keynote speeches is packed with actionable insights that business leaders can take back to their teams and implement. His focus on providing value ensures that every listener walks away with clear, actionable strategies that can be applied in their operations.

Conclusion

For any conference focusing on digital innovation, consumer trends, or specifically AI in consumer content consumption, Matt Britton stands out as an ideal AI expert speaker. His blend of professional experience, authoritative knowledge, and engaging delivery makes him one of the top keynote speakers today. Hosting him at your next event could not only enlighten but also inspire your audience to embrace AI with a new perspective that is both strategic and consumer-centric. In a world leaning heavily towards digital consumption, understanding AI through the lens of an expert like Matt Britton could be the key to unlocking new opportunities in the digital marketplace.

[nicholasandriani]

You’re Doing Human Wrong: The Clickbait Conundrum of Turning People into Products

Twitter Patreon GitHub LinkedIn YouTube Ah, the internet, a wondrous labyrinth where the minotaurs are clickbait titles, luring us into their dens with promises of life-altering secrets. Today’s special: “You’re Doing X Wrong.” That’s right, from slicing bread to living your life, you’re apparently doing it all wrong. But worry not, for I am here to guide you through the maze with a torch of…

[financeprozone]

Free Movie Streaming Shock! Brits Unaware!

As major streaming services continue to hike their monthly fees, film enthusiasts all over the UK are on the hunt for more affordable ways to satisfy their movie cravings. Surprisingly, there’s an ad-free streaming service available across Britain that allows you to stream a vast selection of movies, documentaries, and children’s series right to your home without spending a single penny.

For more visit: financeprozone.com -

[glowettee]

mindful social media habits for 2025 🦋

social media can be our best friend, and our greatest enemy. but there's a way you can mindfully alter your use of social media to benefit your improvement journey.

let's make our online presence as intentional as our offline one. here's how to create healthier social media habits while staying connected~

morning routine:

no phones first hour

check notifications once

respond mindfully

set daily time limits

positive feed curation

content consumption:

follow inspiring accounts

unfollow negative energy

save posts for later

engage meaningfully

share with purpose

digital wellness:

regular feed cleanse

turn off notifications

set boundaries

scheduled breaks

mindful scrolling

engagement tips:

genuine comments

support others

share knowledge

spread positivity

be authentic

mental health checks:

notice emotional triggers

compare less

practice gratitude

take regular breaks

offline activities

social media should add value to your life, not drain it. it's okay to step back when needed and create boundaries that protect your peace.

virtual hugs, mindy

[dontbelasagnax]

I find as fandom has assimilated towards a capitalist mindset of consumption, there has been a larger focus on fanart and fanfiction- both in spaces that view creatives as "content creators" and spaces where creatives are seen as writers and authors but lauded similarly to celebrities or deities for gracing the common people with their creations.

This has produced a side effect wherein fanart and, primarily, fanfiction are seen as the Best Forms Of Transformative Works... which means that any other type of transformative work is thrown by the wayside.

There should be no hierarchy of fanworks - every single work is a labor of love (or spite... I see y'all throwing middle fingers to canon 😉) and should be recognized as such. Fandom is a community. It's not a transactional relationship. Everyone contributes and interacts out of shared passions and interests.

If you make podfics, gifs, photo edits, fanvids, fan binding, metas, fiber arts, jewelry, fanmixes, translate fics to another language, run/contribute to a fan wikia or compile lore and resources in other ways: I see, appreciate, and cherish all the hard, love fueled work you put into your creations.

Not to say that fanfic and digital art are over-appreciated (Since I do see that many people are allergic to pressing reblog. It's a community. We're supposed to share and communicate. Lurkers are valid but for the most part, interaction with like-minded people is what fandom is intended for.) but the pedestal they are placed on needs to be lowered. Your favorite artists and authors are real people with real lives. They piss and shit just like you. They work in retail and healthcare and are unemployed due to disability. There is nothing extraordinary about them and they are wonderful human beings all the same. No one is better than anyone else. We're all equals here on this playground.

That said, I think we need to uplift the underappreciated fanworks and creators and give them more attention so they are on equal footing with fanfic writers and fanartists. Reblog the gifsets and tell the creator you're in love with how they colored the gifs, keyboard smash in the tags when reblogging a plush doll someone crocheted of your blorbo, try listening to a podfic on your commute home instead of an audiobook and remember to leave a comment when you get home.

As a final note, I want to give a warm hug to anyone who has sat refreshing tumblr or ao3 hoping that maybe someone will tell them they did a good job. To anyone who has considered quitting their fandom endeavors because their posts or works never get as much attention and love as the rest of the artworks or fics in the fandom tags, your creations are worth making and sharing. Numbers do not equate to quality, nor can they convey how loved your creations are by a given person. Only you can bring your unique sparkle to fandom and your presence is absolutely welcome no matter how big or small, grandiose or inconsequential, important or worthless you think it is.

[urdreamgirlangel]

pretty girl content ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

Let the content you consume reflect who you are/aspire to be

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹

i feel so much better once the content i take in actually match what i aspire to be. this is coming from someone who is usually scrolling, who is definitely working on it. However, you should never be a in state of constant productivity or else you will burn out. Take breaks, have fun. Make this journey fun.

youtubers ⋆˚꩜｡

cindy kimberly (+her interviews) - ‘vacation’ vlogs, makeup, beauty

tea renee - sunday resets, makeup, beauty, self care

riya royale - lifestyle vlogs

jasmine le - beauty, lifestyle, fashion, self care, girl talk

aaliyah - beauty, lifestyle, motivation, self care

via li - mental health & wellness, lifestyle

alyssa tiannah - spirituality

ashley masse - hair care

hamimommy - productivity, sahm, house chores

serena - productivity, study vlogs

move with bird - yoga

miss tada - lifestyle, fashion, beauty

alessya farrugia - lifestyle, beauty, mental health & wellness, girl talk

alex bondoc - self care, lifestyle, productivity

onlyonejess - hair care & styles

madeline abeid - pilates

breanna quan - study with me, productivity, study vlogs

mina le - video essays to expand your knowledge, productivity

olisunvia - video essays to expand your knowledge, productivity

lab science beauty muffin - productivity, skincare science/chemistry

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹

podcasts .☘︎ ݁˖

Featuring mental health & wellness, healing, motivation, goals and self care & girl talk

busy, yet pretty

delusional diaries

pretty basic with alisha marie & remi cruz

the wellness cafe

self obssesed by tam kaur

the black girl bravado

the psychology of your 20s

the self help basement

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹

main artists ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

These are just mine, honestly

clairo

twice

illit

beabadoobee

laufey

ive

tinashe

megan thee stallion

jhene aiko

itzy

apink

mitski

victoria monet

jo yuri

saweetie

tv girl

currently getting into ꩜ .ᐟ

babymetal

temachii

faye webster

videoclub

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹

practices ⏦ﾟ♡︎

healthy consumption (i don't support waste)

meditation

creating routines (to keep you structured and disciplined)

journalling

visualizations (using positive imagery to reinforce your mindset.)

digital detox

reflection (take time to reflect on how content affects your thoughts and emotions)

challenging negative thoughts with positive ones

avoiding the content that drains me (don’t be afraid to hit that block button)

limiting my attention to celebrity drama and thus my attention to celebrities/influencers’ lives at all.

balancing consumption with creation (make sure i’m not just taking in information but also using it in a way that feels meaningful to me)

[cacoetheswriting]

what can i say after i'm sorry? | chapter four from right where you left me.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern day au) word count: 6.3k

summary: The sentence comes out a little more flirty than intended, but then again, you stopped thinking about what you sound like when his hands made home on your waist, under your t-shirt, over the skirt. Eddie’s smile doesn’t falter. His eyes search yours as his digits trace along the denim waistband. He then loops his index fingers in the belt hoops of your garment and pulls you even closer; flush against him.

content warnings: forced proximity, friends to enemies to lovers, slow burn, angsty, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, mentions & descriptions of underage alcohol consumption / substance abuse, recreational drug use, discusses sobriety, emotional hurt / comfort, we're entering the realm of fluff, mutual pining, also touches on topics of: death, grief, toxic relationships, self-doubt / insecurities, love triangle?, unrequited love, & i'm sorry but chrissy is a bit of a bitch here — pls let me know if i missed any!

psa: any images used in chapter headers don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also vaguely — if at all— described in the story.

Chrissy’s blue eyes are glistening in the afternoon sun. She’s smiling at Eddie, but the metal-head doesn’t seem to register her presence. He’s standing still as a rock, yet to address her, greet her, anything.

You’re frozen too. Unsure whether to intervene or make yourself scarce, although you’re leaning towards the latter because having a catch-up with the preppy blonde is frankly last on the list of things you’d like to do. Especially since her ex-boyfriend is right here and he’s your… exactly what is Eddie to you now?

Thankfully, Nancy appears. She comes looking for you and the brown-haired boy, reminding the two of you to be ready in twenty for the scheduled evening activities, then she halts when her eyes land on Chrissy. She glances between the three of you and you think how comical the scene in front of her must seem. Comically awkward, that is. Jesus, you think, if only the ground would swallow you whole.

“Wow, Chrissy, hi!” Nancy tries her best to appear cheerful. “We weren’t expecting you.”

The blonde shamelessly takes this as her queue to enter. She slides in past Eddie and gives Nancy a half-hug. She’s still to notice you standing in the corner, or if she already has, she’s yet to point you out. Eddie on the other hand, well, his attention is back solely on you. He looks apologetic. Brown eyes downcast, sad. As if Chrissy’s intrusion is the last thing he needed — and it is, if only he could tell you.

“I hope you don’t mind. I’ve been trying to get a hold of this one—” the blonde points behind her at the metal-head. “— but he’s been dogging my calls. I still had the details of this trip, so I thought I’d catch him here and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Finally, Eddie speaks.

“A little out of your way, no?” He asks, head snapping from you to the blonde.

She playfully rolls her eyes, but you can see her mouth twitch. She’s annoyed that he’s annoyed that she came. Clearly not the welcome she’s been expecting.

“Don’t be silly, Eds.” Chrissy chastises, trying to keep her tone easygoing. “You remember, I have a college meet one city over. That’s why I couldn’t come with you this weekend.”

“You couldn’t come because we broke up, Chris.” Eddie states coolly, hands on his hips. “Hence, you were uninvited.”

She waves him off. “Semantics.”

There’s a beat of silence. The two exes are having some sort of stare down and you think maybe this is a good chance to make your escape. As you take a step however, the floorboard creaks and Chrissy shifts to look where you’re standing.

“Hmm,” she muses, not even a measly hello, “Eds said you were invited. Frankly, I didn’t think you’d show, but here you are.”

“Here I am,” you say, plastering on a blanket smile. “It’s good to see you, Chrissy.”

And because you’re suddenly feeling territorial, not to mention petty, you turn to Eddie. The smile you give him, as opposed to his ex-girlfriend, is genuine. Edging on a tad bit flirty. 

“Find me after, okay?”

In a hushed whisper, Nancy later tells you that the look on Chrissy’s face was priceless. Clearly you missed it because you were too focused on the metal-head himself. The way his brow arched, surprised. The way his mouth parted and the tip of his tongue rested plush on his bottom lip. The way he cleared his throat, perhaps in an attempt to regain some composure.

Up in your bedroom, you exhale a breath you were holding for that entire interaction, then text your parents individually to check in.

Your head is spinning.

From previous light stalking, you knew Eddie and Chrissy were a thing, and you also knew they broke up. The first fact bothered you endlessly. The second selfishly made you quite happy. 

Eddie Munson is the guy. The one who knew how to make you laugh without even trying. The one who you could talk to for hours without getting bored. The one who always looked out for your best interest. The one who picked up the pieces until they shattered him. The one you still care about so much it physically hurts. 

Now he’s here with Chrissy. Even though he doesn’t seem too happy with her presence, the thought of them together under one roof — if only for a few hours — is bothering you endlessly.

Curious to learn more about their relationship, you decide to question the vault of knowledge concerning your friend group: Steve. Once you finish getting ready for the evening, you go to find Mr. Gossip and you do so outside, hanging around by the cars, a little stoned.

“I heard the big commotion, sweetheart.” He greets you, offering you his cigarette. “You alright?”

Bopping your head, you take the dart off him and place it between your lips, inhaling. You then lean against your red Jeep, next to the tall brunette.

“They seem to hate each other,” you point out, exhaling the smoke.

Steve snorts and lights another bum for himself. “Well, they didn’t exactly end on the best of circumstances.” He says.

“Oh yeah?”

“Someone’s feeling nosy,” Harrington teases, nudging your side with his elbow.

“Excuse me for caring,” you defend, taking another puff from the disease stick. “Guess I’ll go back to this morning when I didn’t give a shit about his stupid life.”

Steve laughs and throws an arm over your shoulders, pulling you in closer. Resting your head against his broad frame, you instantly relax. That’s the beauty of Steve Harrington. A walking meditation session.

“As if you never gave a shit,” he calls you out on your bullshit.

He then nuzzles his head closer to yours, until his mouth is at your ear. “You look hot, by the way.” Harrington admits, “And I know that’s not for me or any other guy who’ll look your way tonight.”

“Fuck off, Steve.” You mumble lightheartedly, after blowing out another puff of smoke.

He laughs again while leaning back, although his arm remains around you, hugging. The two of you finish off your retrospective cigarettes in this position, waiting for everyone else to gather outside.

One by one, they appear and walk down the gravel. Jonathan and Nancy are first, with Argyle on their heels. He says something about canoeing and Nancy has to remind him that was this morning, now you’re all supposed to be going to the local carnival ground. Robin is next. She’s wearing an outfit not too dissimilar to yours — an oversized vintage band tee and a denim skirt, though yours is shorter — and she squeals with excitement how this is just like high school.

“Is Eddie coming?” Buckley asks, sticking out a hand in Steve’s direction to bum a smoke. “Heard the hurricane is here.”

“He’s coming,” Nancy answers, then proceeds to look at you before adding, “Chrissy is coming too.”

“Jesus…” Steve groans, gently bumping his head into yours. You can’t help but giggle at his dramatic reaction and think how grateful you are he’s here. Especially now that the unwanted guest has inserted herself further into this group's plans.

A few more minutes pass before Eddie joins. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of him, palms clammy. He’s got his own stuck in the pockets of his leather jacket. His head hangs low, one would think he’s watching his step but you can instantly tell he’s upset. Steve senses you stiff in his arms and squeezes you reassuringly — just in time for the metal-head to look your way and witness it.

His jaw locks. Upset turns to something different, something darker. You notice the strain on the material of his pockets, as if his fingers turned into fists. Here he is, once again catching you in the arms of his best mate, Steve. Only this time, he can’t give you crap because a few steps behind him is his personal demon, Chrissy. She waves. Jonathan is the only one to wave back, and Robin mutters how the older Byers boy is always so fucking polite. 

“Girly pop over here doesn’t deserve it for making us late.” Robin adds. She’s talking to her shoes, kicking the small stones around, but everyone in her close vicinity can hear.

This makes Steve snicker into the side of your head and you nudge him to stop, having to also bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from having the same reaction.

“Be nice,” Nancy says, shooting Eddie an apologetic glance. 

The metal-head just shrugs and you’re instantly filled with regret. If it wasn’t for Steve’s hold on you, you’d cross the path and take Eddie’s hand in yours because fuck Chrissy and her sudden appearance that’s dampened the mood. Tensions were high, but now they’re plain depressing and you hate to blame one person, except it seems like everyone else is doing the same.

Jonathan is designated driver number one. He calls out Nancy, Eddie, and Chrissy. You’re designated driver number two and the older Byers orders Robin, Steve, and Argyle to jump into your Jeep. 

You share a look with Eddie as he holds the car door open for his ex-girlfriend. Something between longing and regret, or an imperfect mix of both. 

You don’t have to guess what he’s thinking. It’s written all over his face. Sorrow. For his encounter with Billy, for not trying hard enough to tell you, for not trying hard enough to help you through your grief, for pushing you when you weren’t ready to be pushed, for solely blaming you when it came to the breakdown of this friendship, for not trying to contact you when you left, for the last three years, for how he reacted when he saw you yesterday, for Chrissy and not getting to finish your earlier conversation, for everything. The whole thing, visible on his facial features.

The brunette can read you too. The facade of the last few days has fallen. Drowned under that canoe earlier. You’re exactly who he knew back in high school, matured but otherwise unchanged, and he can get inside your head without trying.

What you’re telling him with your eyes, because you couldn’t say it with words earlier, is: forgiven. There’s no blame to be held over Billy’s last night and the fact Eddie didn’t tell you when it happened. Fresh start, that’s what you’re after. You told him so on the canoe and now you’re confirming it with your honest stare.

When the metal-head reluctantly breaks eye contact and slides into Jonathan’s car, you shudder, close to tears. 

Argyle asks if he can light up in your car. Buckley answers for you with an, “Only if you stick your head out the window.”. He does. Steve follows suit and the two of them pass the joint back and forth in the backseat, giggling into the dusking air.

Watching them, through the rear view mirror, you’re reminded of high school with Eddie. Of sitting in the back of his beat up van, essentially hotboxing the thing, always giggling. A smile circles your lips at the memory. You’ve shoved the good times deep down. Afraid to think of him in such a light because of what happened in the end. One hand on the steering wheel, the other creeps up slowly to the chain around your neck and the small red guitar pick. You squeeze your fingers around it and think, now you’re moving forward. Your therapist would be proud.

“She’s such a bitch to him,” Robin breaks the silence.

You drop your hand. Reposition it on the wheel.

“Who?”

“Chrissy,” she says, obviously. “All sweet and charming? That changed sometime after graduation and a little into their relationship. She chastised him for every little thing he did that she didn’t agree with. She mocked his hobbies and sometimes even his dreams, to the point he even left the band—”

“But that band meant everything to him.”

“—She hated how he decided not to go to college, even though she’s the one that shat all over his application. She pushed him into that local radio station job and then envied him for becoming so popular around Hawkins.”

“I didn’t know he worked at WSQK,” you say, although how could you know since you’re the one who cut all contact with the group. You didn’t even know he left Corroded Coffin.

Robin nods. “Yeah. He’s damn good at it too!” She says excitedly, “Does their midnight call-in thing and boy, do people call in. He’s especially popular with middle-aged ladies. That deep sultry voice he puts on, they eat it up.”

You laugh. An image of Eddie getting approached around town by women old enough to be your mom, fawning over him and asking for his autograph like he’s some sort of playmate. Eddie loves attention, so you know he’ll play along. Take a couple of pictures and sign whatever receipt they have on hand. If you were there, you’d egg them on then tease him endlessly about his new-found fanbase. Seems Chrissy was the opposite and it makes your heart ache just a little bit more for the metal-head.

“Why did they break up?” You ask, hoping to not come off as desperate as earlier, when you were fishing for information from Steve.

Robin doesn't seem to care if you are. In fact, she seems as though she’d been waiting to give this information up.

“Well,” she begins, “what Miss Priss hated most of all is Eddie’s inability to get over you.”

You scoff because you don’t believe her. “Oh please, Rob. That’s ludicrous.”

She shrugs in the passenger seat then looks behind at the boys, who are still lost in their own little world, before focusing her attention on you.

“She asked him numerous times to move to Indianapolis with her. Each time, he said no. He’d rather be long distance than miss an opportunity to bump into you; if you ever came back to Hawkins. Then, Nancy decided to plan this getaway - I think she was just sick of seeing him so miserable - and the first thing she told us was her guest list, which of course included you. The next day, Eddie and Chrissy were finished.” Robin explains, “Wild coincidence, if you ask me.”

You open your mouth to refute her reasoning, but you close it just as quickly. There’s no such thing as coincidence, is what you want to tell her, but that only seems to prove her point. So the conversation ends there and moments later, the carnival grounds come into view.

Jonathan’s car in front. You follow him through the parking area and pull the break next to him. Before jumping out, Robin ensures the two boys in the back have rolled closed their retrospective windows. Argyle says, “Yes, mom.”, which makes Steve smirk, then your own laugh follows. Next, the four of you hit the ground in fits of giggles and smirks — while the other four seem downright depressed.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but before I can hop on any rides, I need water.” Steve says, holding onto your arm for support as the joint works its magic. “A lot of it. I’m pretty sure Argyle just tried to poison me.”

“Hey, man!” The other guy drawls. “All consensual, my friend. I have witnesses.”

Robin snorts, sneaking her arm through your free one and you find yourself in a Harrington-Buckley sandwich. No hope of speaking to Eddie alone with these two attached to your hip, but maybe that’s the whole point with Chrissy here. Maybe, considering everything you just learned from your blonde friend, you’re supposed to pass like ships in the night for a couple more hours.

Eddie on the other hand wishes the two of them would fuck off for a moment. Three, if you count his clingy ex-girlfriend. While your ride over seemed to be smooth sailing — he assumes — his was one from hell.

Chrissy wouldn’t stop questioning Nancy and Jonathan about your arrival to the lakehouse. Fishing for information to corroborate what she’s thinking: that Eddie cheated. Emotionally maybe, but never physically. He tried to tell her that on numerous occasions. You two never reconnected over the last three years. Chrissy however, doesn’t seem to buy it. “What kind of loser pines over a girl that blatantly rejected him?”, her words.

She says she’s here because she learned their dog is sick. Her dog. Eddie just walked it a couple of times and suddenly it’s their baby or some shit. The real reason is far more sinister. She’s here to make his life hell by cutting you out of it once and for all. He just hasn’t figured out how exactly she plans on doing that in such a short amount of time, aside from not leaving his side which will make it impossible to catch you alone.

“I could get a drink too,” he announces and of course, Chrissy says the same a split-second later.

“Alright.” Jonathan nods. “The three of us will get some tokens and we can meet by the Ferris Wheel in fifteen.”

Robin leads, arm still linked with yours, while you drag Steve along as he babbles about how nice you smell. Eddie and Chrissy are a few steps behind.

Everything inside of you screams to turn around because you can feel a pair of chocolate-button eyes stuck firmly to your frame, but you don’t, afraid of also catching daggers from a certain blonde.

They take it upon themselves to go and order. Rather Eddie does and Chrissy sticks to him like a leech. Considering this is a place you bring your family, water and soda are the only items on the menu — and it’s a bottle of still for Harrington while you and Robin opt for a Diet Coke.

Soon enough, Chrissy wanders back with your drinks. She says Eddie is paying and lifts her own soft drink to cheer. Politely, you do just that and proceed to bring the plastic cup to your lips. Your movements halt when you sniff the liquid beneath.

“Is there alcohol in this?”

“Why? Do you want there to be?” Her eyes full of mischief.

Before you can answer her, Robin takes the soda from your grasp and takes a sip. You watch her make a face and your suspicions quickly prove correct.

“Chrissy, this is laced with vodka.” Robin exclaims which gets Harrington’s attention, who up until this point was walking around in circles, staring at the darkening sky. He motions for Robin to put the cup to his mouth. Rolling her eyes, she does just that and he spits the dark liquid out just as fast as he sipped it.

“Jesus, Chrissy!” He wipes his mouth. “Are you trying to poison her?”

The blonde’s gaze narrows, albeit momentarily, as she looks between the three of you. The accusation hangs unspoken, although you’re all thinking it and Chrissy knows she’s been caught: especially since Robin tries her own drink next and it turns out to be exactly what she ordered, a Diet Coke. Un-spiked.

To make matters worse, as you continue to stare at her in somewhat of a disbelief, Steve’s slightly sobered up (thanks to his magical water and an appetite for vengeance). He’s raising his voice, trying to get her to admit what she’s done, but she’s adamant that she handed you the drink exactly as it was handed to her. To an outsider, the picture paints itself. A guy shouting at a girl. The crowd begins to point and murmur. You hear someone question, “why are her friends just standing there?”.

“What the fuck is going on?” Eddie slides in between Chrissy and Steve.

“Why don’t you ask your girlfriend?” Harrington says in an accusatory tone, pointing towards the blonde with his now half-drank bottle of water. “Then again, she won’t tell you the truth, so why don’t you try this drink here and tell me what you think.”

Despite Chrissy saying his name, Eddie does exactly what Harrington’s requested and instantly his eyes snap to you. You, who’s still staring at his ex-girlfriend, unable to move, while Robin rubs your shoulders and repeats for the hundredth time that it’s all fine, you never took a sip so everything is okay.

Anger bubbles inside of the metal-head. He faces Chrissy, fully blocking her from your view, and practically shoves the cup into her grasp, spilling some of the fizzy liquid in the process, all over Chrissy’s white Converse.

“What the fuck, Chris?” Eddie grits through his teeth, “And don’t you dare deny this shit with me. Nancy just told you that she—” He points to you. “—is sober and suddenly there’s a drink in her hand, provided by you.”

“It’s just some harmless fun,” she defends, “You’re all being overly dramatic.”

Eddie’s fingers are at the bridge of his nose. He exhales before dropping his hand and glancing at you from over his shoulder. You blink then meet his gaze and immediately his expression softens. He mouths, ‘are you okay’, to which you nod because what else are you supposed to do? His fucking ex-girlfriend, who appears to be quite psycho when it comes to you, just tried to knowingly end your sobriety streak. This is nuts, even for your standards.

“Why don’t you apologise, so we can go have some actual fun.” Eddie orders, addressing her head on. He then steps aside, although he makes a point by standing closer to you than the blonde.

Chrissy rolls her eyes, but obliges. “I’m sorry.”

And you’re about to say something stupid like, ‘No harm, no foul.’, when a smirk spreads across her otherwise perfect lips and she continues with, “I just remember how much fun you used to be when you drank. At my graduation party, for instance. No one's going to forget that girl.”

“Oh for fuck sake, Chrissy.” Robin’s the one to jump to your defence before the other girl can say any more. 

You don’t stick around to hear the rest. You don’t want to. Hastily, you excuse yourself and before anyone can stop you, you leave them behind in search for Nancy and Jonathan — who appear to be the only sane people in this group.

Although, when you hear that stupid moniker being called out, you stop immediately and turn on your heel. Eddie’s right behind and the way he’s looking at you as he approaches, stopping just as his toes touch yours, might make you burst.

“I’m sorry about her,” he says.

You shake your head. “She’s a grown woman. You shouldn’t have to apologise for her actions.”

“Well, it’s my fault she’s acting this way,” he reasons.

“Eddie, I think we both know that it’s me.” You counter but don’t elaborate because this doesn’t feel like the right time to unpack all of… that. “Robin told me you work at WSQK. Congratulations. Sounds like a fun gig.”

He smiles, seemingly unbothered by the change of topic, and as the light dimples form at the bottom of his cheekbones, you wish you could be the reason he smiles forever — like the good old days.

“It pays the bills,” he says.

“I think you’re being modest. Robin made it sound like half the town’s eligible bachelorettes want to be the next Mrs. Munson.”

This gets him to laugh. The sound is music to your ears and fuel for your beating heart. The organ swells inside your chest and skips a beat or two, but who’s really counting. Definitely not you since, instead, you return his happy expression.

“So, can anyone call into this show of yours or is the requirement to be over the age of forty with a mortgage and three kids?”

“Married or divorced?” He counters.

“Depends how scandalous you’re feeling.” 

The sentence comes out a little more flirty than intended, but then again, you stopped thinking about what you sound like when his hands made home on your waist, under your t-shirt, over the skirt. Eddie’s smile doesn’t falter. His eyes search yours as his digits trace along the denim waistband. He then loops his index fingers in the belt hoops of your garment and pulls you even closer; flush against him.

“Definitely scandalous,” the metal-head replies in a hushed tone.

Seconds pass and neither of you makes any attempt to move. The rest of the carnival fades into nothingness.

“To answer your question,” he continues, “Anyone in the great state of Indiana can call in.”

You smack your lips together, pondering his answer. “I’ll keep that in mind, hot shot.”

He raises a brow. “Hot shot, huh?” Tasting the new nickname on his lips, Eddie lets go of your skirt and therefore, of you. However, you don’t get a chance to miss his touch as he delicately twirls you around and throws one arm over your shoulders. “I think I like that.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks as he leads you through the crowd, towards the Ferris Wheel. 

A thought crosses your mind, that perhaps whatever this is, is too soon into rebuilding the foundations of your friendship. You’re all for moving forward, but perhaps step-by-step would be better than jumping in head first. Then again, haven’t you regretted not jumping for the last three years?

“Where’s everyone else?” Jonathan questions as the two of you approach. 

“They’ll catch up,” Eddie says plainly and fishes out a handful of tokens from the older Byers. “See you from up there!” He shouts while walking away, with you still under his arm.

On top of the big wheel, Eddie catches you by further surprise when he retrieves his phone and snaps a picture of the two of you together. He doesn’t comment on it, so you don’t either. Instead, you enjoy the moment.

Afterwards, he leads you to the bumper cars, then the carousel. He holds your hand on the Freefall and the Scrambler. He pulls you through the Haunted House, keeping you close — by your waist, your arm, ring-clad fingers stretched on your lower back. You’re floating. Unable to process exactly what’s happening, but loving it nonetheless. Every damn second.

Soon Eddie’s feeling competitive and decides to try some games. In balloon darts, he wins his first prize: a small pink plushy that kind of looks like a rabbit, but also not really. The two of you laugh at the deformed animal in his grasp, until he gives it to you and it’s no longer funny.

“He belongs to you,” Eddie says simply and suddenly, the little toy holds a lot of weight.

The rest of the night, you spend as a group. You’re sharing a portion of fries with Robin, she’s across from you at the picnic table. Steve’s on your right, Eddie on your left — and you can’t help but chuckle at the irony of this sandwich. A few years ago, you know it would have sent the metal-head into a spiral. Hell, a mere twenty-four hours ago he flipped a lid when he walked in on you hugging Harrington. Now, the rugged brunette’s hand is on your thigh, his leather jacket is draped over your shoulders, and he’s yapping away to Steve (best buds).

On the other end of the table, Jonathan and Nancy are talking about being in the final stages of buying a house. To which Argyle says he’ll take over the lease of their current apartment and Robin jokes he first needs to hold down a job. He throws a rolled up napkin at her head, she catches it with ease and chucks it back at him.

“You’ll have a room,” Nancy addresses you, “If you ever decide to step foot back in Hawkins.”

You smile at her, though your focus is on Eddie’s fingers tightening against your bare thigh. He continues his conversation with Steve, but one ear is perked to what you’re going to say to Nancy’s offer. And the words that slip disappoint him slightly.

“Thanks, Nance. I’ll think about it.”

Even Chrissy is playing nice, though every time you look her way, she’s not too pleased. She probably didn’t think you’d spend the whole evening with her ex-boyfriend, being forced to watch the two of you have the fun she thought she was entitled to. Well, she ruined it for herself, you think, she shouldn’t have spiked your drink.

Later, back at the house, Chrissy exacts her frustration. It’s suddenly too late for her to drive anywhere and she weasels her way into Eddie’s bedroom, not giving him a chance to protest. The metal-head doesn’t have time for anger because his gaze finds yours and his heart sinks. The sadness in your eyes is palpable. You’re doing your best to hide it by offering him a timid smile, clutching the pink plushy in your arms, but he knows better. You’d hoped she’d leave and frankly, he did too.

Eddie was hoping to talk about Nancy’s comment from earlier. He’s a rational man. Obviously he didn’t think you’d suddenly move home. There’s a whole life you’ve built for yourself in Las Vegas. One he wasn’t a part of and even now that the two of you were somewhat back on track, he’s unsure how he fits into that part of you — if at all.

Chrissy’s continuous lingering presence is making the whole thing more excruciating.

“She’s never going to go for you,” the blonde states matter-of-factly. “You’re once again getting your hopes up and she is going to hurt you. That’s what she’s good at.”

Eddie closes his bedroom door and instantly regrets it.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Chris.” He grumbles and spins on his heel to look at his ex-girlfriend. 

“I want you to realise that she’s not the girl for you,” she states, approaching him. “I am. I’ve been in your corner since our graduation party, if not longer. I’ve supported you, I’ve loved you. A-and you don’t even have the decency to be honest with me when you break things off.”

“I was honest, Chris.” Eddie replies. “Not my fault you don’t believe me.”

Chrissy rolls her eyes. “Oh give me a break! You’ve never stopped loving her, that’s the part you haven’t been honest about. You just hoped I’d be stupid enough to not care and settle!” She yells, arms thrown to the wind. “And I would have, Eddie. I really, really would have. But then she had to make an appearance and fuck me does she have you by the balls. It’s pathetic.”

Never in his wildest dreams did the metal-head think you’d come back into his life. Sure, he hoped, but daydreaming never got him anywhere. And despite what Chrissy might think, Eddie didn’t end his relationship for you. That would be insane considering you’ve turned him down once before, plus he held this ridiculous grudge…

“So what? I don’t love you like you want to be loved and it’s my fault for ending things? You deserve better than someone like me, Chris.”

She scoffs. “Right.”

A beat of silence passes by.

The staredown evolves from one of animosity to inexplicable sadness. Chrissy’s eyes fill with tears and Eddie hates himself for not realising sooner how much he actually hurt this poor girl. He didn’t think he led her on. Truthfully, he really thought they’d be together forever, or whatever the phrase kids use these days.

Eddie broke up with Chrissy because he realised he’d rather be alone and miserable than with anyone else other than you.

“I hope you find someone worthy, Chris.” Eddie means it.

“I’ll be out of your hair by morning.”

He slowly bops his head and without saying anything else, he slides out of the room.

Guilt bubbles and Chrissy’s words start to haunt him. “She’s never going to go for you.”. Doesn’t matter if the blonde said it out of spite, she still put it out into the universe. Of course he’s not delusional. It’s barely been twenty-four hours, that’s hardly enough to warrant any… feelings. But when you smile at him or cuddle into him like you did all evening, you don’t pull away when he takes your hand or hugs you. There’s familiarity in these actions. Shit, there’s feelings. Logic goes out the window.

He leans one arm on the fridge door and stifles through the contents. The kitchen is dark aside from a light bulb above the cooker. The house is deadly still too. Seems everyone has gone to sleep and that’s what Eddie intends to do after he drowns his anxieties in a couple of beers — might also make the couch more comfortable considering Chrissy has probably already locked his bedroom door.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

His fingers tighten around the glass bottle at the sound of your voice and after he straightens, closing the fridge, his eyes catch yours like magnets.

He lifts his beer. “Tea time.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you cross the kitchen towards him, only to stop at the kettle. With a flick, the vessel begins heating up water and you reach for a mug.

“I like tea.”

Eddie can’t help but smile. Even more when you add, “I had a good time tonight.”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Me too, angel.”

Dropping a tea bag into your cup, you also drop your gaze and clear your throat. Immediately, the metal-head stiffens in his spot, although neither of you have any reason to be nervous about what happens next.

“We do have to talk about some stuff though.”

And you do. All night. 

High school, Billy, that godforsaken graduation party, to you leaving without a goodbye, finally life that happened in between now and then. Thoughts, feelings, all explained and out on the table. Wounds reopened and poked until dried blood is fresh again. Tears fall. More apologies. Endless forgiveness. Then laughter. So much laughter.

By the time two o’clock in the morning comes around, you’re lighter. Almost… free. You also feel closer to the metal-head in an unexpected way. Sure, the two of you were best friends back in school, but this, right now, seems different. Stronger.

He’s matured. Changed for the wiser and you’re not quite sure what to do with his mind. He’s not the act-don’t-think Eddie you remember. Yes, even he admits there are times his mouth works before his brain can, but that’s just down to his heart doing the deciding. He appears more relaxed, confident. Not the facade he used to present to hide his true self, but actually confident. Kinda hot, you think. Although, that’s one thing that hasn’t changed about the metal-head.

You’re admiring the way his light locks frame his face, adding to the charm of his dotted freckles and timid frown lines. Dimples present themselves when he smiles because he knows you’re watching him from the other end of the sofa, observing, analysing. The shadows created by candlelight only make him more alluring. You don’t feel ashamed for staring. He’s really quite picturesque. Crafted by something of divine nature.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie repeats your earlier question, only with a little more flare. He lifts his head from his phone and meets your wandering eyes.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you smile.

“Thinking about all the ladies who are missing you on the radio tonight, hot shot.” You tease, nudging his calf with the ball of your foot.

He laughs all velvety and fine — music to your ears.

“I’m sure they’ll survive.” He says, hesitantly wrapping his fingers around your painted toes. “Plus, I have a good second-hand man. He’ll keep them entertained.”

You arch a brow.

Eddie elaborates, “Henderson.”

Now, it’s your turn to laugh. You drop your head in a fit of giggles, captivating him in the process. He grows consumed by the melodic sound and the light in your eyes as your perfect smile grows wider. He fixates on the curve of your jawline, and the curve of something else as his gaze wanders downwards. He swallows, pulse increasing. The feel of your bare skin under his grasp isn’t helping.

“Angel?”

Your gaze lands on the brunette once more. “Hot shot?”

There’s a beat of silence. You’re grinning at one another, giddy, like a couple of kids who had too much sugar. Except, Eddie’s also wondering if he should tell you how beautiful you look (since that’s why he called for your attention in the first place), and you’re suddenly thinking that returning to Hawkins — even if only temporary — might not be such a bad idea.

“I had a really good day today. With you.” The metal-head admits.

The smile on your face shifts slightly to something more sweet. You reach for the coffee table. Rather for the mug atop of it, previously filled with tea and now filled with water, and lift the ceramic in his direction.

“Here’s to many more, I hope.” You say earnestly and decide then that since second chances are hard to come by, you’re not about to ruin this one by disappearing from him again. “Maybe even back home.”

Eddie’s gaze widens at your words, but he doesn’t ask exactly what you mean by them because he knows better than to count his blessings — especially when it comes to you.

Instead, he pulls you closer by your ankles while you pathetically contain a squeak. He drapes your legs over his lap and slides one hand under your t-shirt, around your waist, and up your spine. A shiver runs through your entire being. Then again when he removes the cup from your grasp, fingers zapping yours. He sets it aside once again, not breaking eye contact, and riding the high of bravery, Eddie holds your jaw.

“Sounds good to me.” Voice dark, eyes darker.

And throwing caution to the wind, he dips his head forward.

as always, thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

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[dollyfetti]

𐔌　𝓒ON𝓢UME 𝓜E ₊˚ ♡

○˚𑄽𑄺˖° SUMMARY: dean wants to be your everything, no matter the cost.

⋆˚✿˖° NOTES: loser!sub!dean x vampire!reader smut blood consumption finger sucking pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart, sweet girl, gorgeous) hair pulling begging dry humping unprotected sex overstimulation they r obsessed with each other!! dean's a little ooc ig meow! it's like semi edited wahh

○˚♡˖° WORD COUNT: 4.4k woah!

˚○ ୨୧ main masterlist taglist navi

dean being with you, a literal vampire, didn’t feel like damnation. it felt like heaven. for all your many centuries of existence and the blood that kept you breathing, you were delicately affectionate from the moment you’d met him. it’s actually what kept him from ganking you during the first few weeks you decided to stick around.

and thank goodness he didn’t.

you practically pacified the sweet boy in just a few months, often resulting in him curled up in your arms like a half tamed puppy after a long day, all of his previous bark and bite from earlier faded to quiet whines and slow blinks as your fingers threaded through his hair.

it’s disgusting the way dean constantly finds himself submitting to you. he’d rip his heart out with his bare, calloused hands and gladly give it to you the second you asked.

he’s screwed.

his love was all consuming, constantly having a dizzying headache of wanting you so bad it scraped his ribs raw. and he figured maybe you had spelled him somehow, to make him want to give up his one and only soul for you, a monster.

because dean didn’t love, not really. he never yearned for someone the way a man in love should. not until you.

he lived for these moments with you, where the shit world he fights against every day is still and kind for once. where he’s shirtless in bed, holding you like he’d fall through the mattress if he didn’t anchor himself to you.

your low cut tank top gave dean a wide view of one of his very few sanctuaries... your tits.

he leans forward to place a small kiss on your chest before tilting his head back to look at you with those hypnotizing green eyes, his hands rubbing your sides to eventually stop at your hips and giving them a light squeeze.

you exhale, lightly rubbing his biceps as you lean back against the headboard. “baby, i haveta.. eat.. soon.” you murmur, gently reminding him of your nature. you’ve always hated bringing it up, having to admit the hunger that stirred beneath your flesh.

he frowns with a sigh, placing another kiss on your chest and nuzzling his head between your breasts like a petulant child, rubbing his nose against the soft skin before looking up at you again with an alluring glance that made your unbeating heart tug.

“jus stay for a few more minutes.” dean grumbles, letting his lower lip fall in a tiny pout as he blinks up at you, his chin still squished between your boobs.

you giggle, petting his hair and bringing up a finger to trace over his pouting lips. “i didn’t say right this second. just soon, kay?”

a soft whine escapes him as the pad of your finger lightly brushes against his lips, like just the small touch from you had blessed him. the large hands resting on your hips slide down underneath your loose shirt, now roaming over your bare skin.

he shamelessly takes your finger between his plump pink lips as you eye him with a soft smile, a little noise of content falling out of you. he sucks and gently nips on it, his eyes never pulling away from yours. you know, like a whore.

you adore when he's like this, all soft and subby. you coo, your free hand still playing with his hair as he swirls his pink tongue around your digit.

he softly whimpers as he reluctantly slips your finger out of his mouth before smooching a gentle kiss on the pad of it. his hands are now soothingly rubbing your back underneath your shirt, his lips trailing down to scatter soft, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone.

one of his legs suddenly slip between yours, knee brushing against your core before cooing at your surprised squeak at the contact, your hips automatically jerking at the friction.

“okay,” you rasp, nodding your head in attempt to recollect yourself with a hard swallow. “i said soon as in.. only a few minutes, baby.”

he simply hums before leaning forward and stupidly taking the skin on your jaw between his teeth.

hunger crawls up your throat without warning, blooming hot and desperate. you can smell him more now from this angle— sweat and blood, and god, his awaiting throat is right there.

and he just purrs like he knows how it’s affecting you, the noise vibrating against your skin.

“dean.” you warn sharply, fighting the necessity to indulge in your needs. you resist the urge to sink your fangs into him 24/7, and it's even worse at times like these when he’s all over you.

“i'm hungry, be careful.”

he simply hums again as he places a kiss on your jaw before moving down until his lips press gently against your pulse point, his teeth nipping on the sensitive skin of your throat, almost as if to tease you.

“you’ve already taken my blood before.” he points out with a small grunt, burying his nose into your neck.

you wince at the memory. it was in an empty ghost town where your stash had been destroyed, and you thought your life was over. you’d resisted for hours until you just couldn’t anymore. then dean had offered his wrist with a smile and a “c’mon, sweetheart, you need to. please.”

you didn’t want to, but what other choice did you have? you’d been careful. gentle. he even said it didn’t hurt.

you whine, pulling him closer despite the logical part of your brain telling you otherwise. “that can never happen again, deany.” you murmur, lashes fluttering at his wet nips and pecks.

he huffs against your skin. “why the hell not? nothing happened, right?” he says matter of factly, his tone still soft as his fingers trace patterns over your back. he wants to be what you crave and he wants to be the one to give it to you. he needs to be needed.

“yeah, but,” you start with a pout. “i don’t ever wanna hurt you, honey.” you mumble, eyes following his mouth as he kisses and presses himself all over you like a needy little puppy.

eventually, he lifts his head to look at you again, a small pout of his own on his lips as he stares at you with a pleading expression. “what, you think m scared of you? you’re not gonna hurt me, sweet girl.” he notes with a shift, leaning up to press a soft kiss on your chin, and then your nose.

his knee was still pressed against your center, and he couldn’t help but tauntingly move it, just slightly, enjoying how much it seemed to rile you up.

“i can’t, baby, i can’t..!” you whine, eyes rolling back momentarily. you let out a breathy sigh, a lovesick smile sneaking out as he begins to pepper your face in kisses.

he chuckles, finding your whines and whimpers absolutely adorable. “why not?” he asks with a small coo, his hand petting over your puffed out cheek.

his other hand presses flat against your back, thumb rubbing circles over it as his nose gently rubs against yours. he knew that he was slowly but surely pushing you to give in, and he always plans on getting what he wants.

“because! if i start, i won’t stop— i can’t control it!” you’re quivering now, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded as he rocks his knee against you.

“sweetheart. please?” dean softly hums, his green eyes looking up at you with need. “just a little bite.. that's it.” he murmurs. there’s no hesitation in him. no fear. just a desperate, boyish need to be yours in every possible way.

he further presses his knee against your fabric covered cunt, urging you to grind against him. “fuck, c’mon. let me take care of you.” he exhales.

you let out a heavy breath, hips jerking with a small whimper until you shakily nod. “okay.. your wrist. n-not your neck..” you mumble, listening intently to the sound of his heartbeat.

he can’t hold back from letting out a deep, guttural groan at your confirmation. he brings his wrist up to your mouth, offering it like a gift with pride. “drink, baby...” he whispers huskily, his hand going to your hip to help you rock on him.

you breathily hiss at both the sensation and dean's eagerness to feed his girl, bringing a shiver to your spine. you snatch his wrist into your cold grip before pausing to listen to the flow of his blood, his eyes slightly widening.

“are you sure?” you whisper with closed eyes, hunger twisting low and sharp in your belly.

“yeah, positive.” he breathes, nodding rapidly as he stares at you with pure adoration.

with a flash of movement, you drag his wrist to your mouth, and your fangs sink in.

your nails dig into his forearm as the blood hits your tongue, rich and wild and oh so human. your head spins with the taste of him— it’s overwhelming, addicting, too much, but you drink like you're starved, a low involuntary growl rumbling out of your throat.

dean lets out a soft cry, his entire body pressing up against you. he can feel your nipples poking through your shirt, his forehead dropping to yours as he cradles the back of your head with his free hand.

“jesus christ,” he whispers, lips brushing your temple as his eyes squeeze shut with a grunt.

he bites down on his bottom lip, letting out an involuntary moan. he's never felt something so intense before, the feeling of your fangs inside his flesh, the feeling of you sucking on his skin, and all the little sounds you’re making. he groans as your body arches into him, his jeans somehow getting even tighter.

his body goes on autopilot, hips bucking against yours, desperately in search of more friction. his free hand pulls your shirt up enough for your boobs to bounce out, his tongue swiping over his lips as he stares down at them before glancing up at you again.

“you’re so hungry, aren't you..?” he murmurs, hand moving under the shirt to squeeze a handful of your tit as he plants kisses along your neck.

god, his blood is everything. thick and warm and utterly his, laced with all the things you crave most. his loyalty, his love, the deep desiring thrum of a man who would burn himself down if it meant keeping you full.

your supernaturally tight hold manages to grip harder around his wrist for another greedy mouthful, and you feel him sag into you, breath catching on a ragged sigh. but even still, there's no fear, no hesitation. just dean, wide eyed and adoring, like he’s grateful to be devoured.

and that’s what jolts you back.

you yank yourself away from his arm with a choked gasp, blood still wet on your lips, your heart pounding like it’s about to explode. your fingers loosen their death grip on his wrist as you try to catch your breath.

his hand moves from your breast to caress your cheek, whispering sweet words, only to be interrupted by your snarl. “clean it up before i suck you fucking dry.” you whimper, voice barely holding together.

the sight of dean's blood smeared on your lips and your darkened eyes causes him to let out another low moan. he blinks, drunk on the intimacy still coiling between you.

“fuck...” he whines quietly, his hand on your head still playing with your hair mindlessly. he can't help himself, you just look so cute and kissable in this moment. he leans in closer, fingers going under your chin to lift you up a little, wanting a taste of your bloody lips.

you exhale, eyes shutting as you shake your head and press a hand against his chest to stop him.

his gaze flicks down to his bloody wrist. he lifts it up to his mouth and begins to leisurely lick the blood away, his tongue leaving soft, slow drags on it.

you groan at the sloshy sound, eyes tightening further as you put your hand over your nose, the smell getting to you.

a slight smirk forms on his lips like he knew him swiping up his blood so lewdly would push your buttons. his tongue continues its slow, meticulous work before he mumbles, “m glad you like it. tastes kinda salty.”

one second he’s all teasing and smirking, and the next you’re on him, fangs out, fingers like iron shackles around his wrist as you drag it back to your mouth.

but even at that, which should scare him, even as a hunter, doesn't bother him in the slightest. he lets out a soft coo, his free hand slowly moving up to gently caress your cheek as you settle on top of him.

he doesn't even care that he might provoke you in this state when he murmurs, “so fuckin pretty, honey,” like he’s delighted.

you hover just above the open wound on his wrist, trembling with your mouth parted and full of blood you still haven’t downed. your eyes flash, dark and feral and a little wild— and he just keeps staring like he’s witnessing something holy. like you’re absolutely fucking divine.

his blood lingers on your tongue, warm and metallic. and despite your bloodthirsty disposition, you’re really not seconds away from losing it and all hell breaking loose like you assumed. you know it.

and dean does too. your stupid, gorgeous dean, presses a kiss to your bottom lip, messy with red liquid.

he slowly pulls his wrist away from your grip, but he doesn’t move far. his palm stays cupped against your cheek, grounding you, like he wants to be tasted.

“you good, buffy?” he grins, soft and teasing with his eyes locked on your face, searching for any signs that you might still be hungry.

“mhmm,” you hum, pecking his thumb with a small smile. you shift in his lap, adjusting your weight until you’re draped over him, tucked into the warmth of his body.

“yknow,” he starts, voice low. he peers down at the blood smeared on his wrist, lips parting with an aroused exhale. he clears his throat before turning back to you, still brushing your face. “you can take it whenever you need to, baby.”

you smile softly at the words, shaking your head. you wouldn't do that to him. “thank you, but-”

“no, i'm serious.” dean cuts you off sharply, voice desperate, and eyes intensely staring into yours like a promise. “don't fight it. swear to god i'll give you everything- don't haveta eat from anyone else ever again.”

you swallow, lashes fluttering as you blink profusely. you shakily breathe, and you find yourself nodding, eyes darting back to the blood seeping out of his wound. you can feel your meal sliding down the back of your tongue, thick and warm.

“please, baby, please,” he whispers huskily, his hands roaming down to grip the globes of your ass. “wanna be your everything. please.”

your hand shoots up, fingers curling around his throat, and you shove him back into the headboard— not hard, but needing. his heart's racing as he stares straight at your perfect fangs baring out to him.

and god, he loves it. he loves you. the soft, sweet side you show the world and the raw creature underneath. the monster with blood on her lips and love etched into her bones.

dean groans out your name, wanting you to take everything he has to give. he looks at you with a desperate look in his eyes. you need me, it screams.

his fingers tighten around your thighs, nails digging in. there’s a tremble in his jaw he doesn’t even try to hide. he should feel pathetic, he thinks, being this far gone over you. but he feels chosen. he wants to be consumed. in fact, he wants to cry from how much he wants you, how much he wants you to bite him, and take everything he has to give.

you growl, a sound you don’t even mean to make, and the way dean reacts is almost embarrassing. he shudders underneath you, hips twitching slightly, eyes rolling back.

your bottom lip juts out into a small pout as you squeeze his throat tighter, eliciting a small whine from him.

you shove your lips onto his, licking and sucking feverishly. he immediately kisses you back, returning your lust driven bites with needy twirls of his tongue around yours. it's gross, spit drooling down your chin with your mouth moving in the most uncoordinated motions, but neither of you care. if anything, that's what makes it so good.

your hand around his throat squeezes, and you can feel his pulse hammering against your palm. his heart’s beating like it’s trying to climb out of his chest. he pants your name against your mouth like a prayer, almost dizzy with how much he wants you.

you pull away with heavy breaths, lips bitten and soaked wet with his saliva. he groans, tilting his neck closer to you, his hand gripping your wrist to pull it away. you moan loudly, staring at the skin with eager need.

he breathes, “take me”, and you’re gone for the second time tonight.

you surge forward, fangs sinking into his throat. his blood pours over your tongue once more, thick and alive. your body jolts like it’s been electrocuted as you moan against his skin.

dean cries out, a raw, broken shout as his eyes squeeze shut. his hips buck under you and his entire body arches up into yours.

he’s completely at your mercy, letting you take whatever you need, just as long as he can get that delicious feeling of you biting him, and the crazy pleasure he gets from being your source of nourishment.

his love floods your senses, overtaking every thought. you weren’t starving before, but nothing has ever felt so good as this. as his blood, your dean.

his eyes are heavy lidded and glassy, pupils blown wide as he feels himself being drained. there’s a tear slipping from the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t even feel it, too busy whispering your name like it’s the only word he remembers.

“fuck,” he chokes, voice wrecked and boyish. “you’re gonna kill me— oh god, baby—”

you pull back a little, just enough to lick some seeped blood from his neck. your lips are stained crimson, eyes still half feral, and he's fighting to not completely sob at the sight.

you kiss his pulse point, slow and wet. “you're not gonna die, sweet boy.”

“i love you.” he blurts, like the words are punched out of him. he groans, squeezing the fabric of your shirt as he rolls his hips up. “oh, i love you. drain me, fuck me, take me— fuck, please!”

you moan loudly, right in his face as you grip it, holding him like he’s fragile. and he is. he’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted so badly.

he can barely even think straight, his thoughts spinning with need and desire. he wants to be the only one you ever need. he groans, eyes rolling back and his hips bucking against yours mindlessly, seeking any sort of friction.

you let out a large exhale, practically shoving your hand to the front of his jeans, tugging down the zipper with little struggle and much need. his eyebrows are pinched tight, lips parted as he yanks his pants down, kicking them off his feet.

he snatches your tiny top into his large hands, pulling it up and over your head before leaning forward to kiss you again, tongue exploring every crevice of your mouth while you slide down your panties with quiet mewling sounds.

he immediately slips two fingers past your entrance, earning a moan from you while his other hand grips the side of your face, keeping your mouth on his. he skillfully slips his digits out before shoving them right back in, over and over again.

you bite his lips, more blood drawing from the stab of your fangs.

he groans, eyes rolling back before pounding his fingers harder into you, the spongy spot of your cunt massaging against them.

you cry out his name as you reach your high, his fingers dripping like water with arousal. he whines, staring down at them. he quickly takes them into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the skin like a man starved. you tug down his boxers, mindlessly throwing them across the room.

he smiles gently, pulling his fingers out with a small pop before flipping you to lay on your back. he bends down, leaving wet kisses along your neck and boobs as you whine with need. “i know, honey.” he coos a little shakily as he starts to drag his tip up and down your folds.

you gasp at the stretch as he slides further into you, eyes squeezing shut at the tight fit. you’re babbling like a fool in love, hands gripping his hair with a death grip. once his dick is fully inside, he pauses, waiting for the go as he murmurs words of praise into your neck.

“please, move, please..!” you plead, tugging his hair to pull him away from your skin, latching onto him as you suck on his bottom lip with a little buck of your hips.

dean moans, sticking his tongue out automatically as he starts to rock into you, thrusting at a steady pace filled with tender care despite the blood still dripping from his wounds.

a hand squeezes your nipple, twisting it between his fingers as your legs wrap around his waist. he shakes his head, using his free hand to pull under your thigh and lift a leg onto his shoulder. you cry out as he starts to hit deeper inside you at the angle, arching your chest into his.

your walls clench around him, girthy cock hitting all the right places. his balls slap against your ass as he slams into you, the lewd sound echoing throughout your apartment. his fingers slither down to your sensitive little clit, starting up small circles against it as you mewl.

it feels like he's staring into your soul as he rubs all over your clit, letting out soft whines at your wanton expression.

you’re frantically babbling, hand still tugging his hair. “g-good boy, dean, mmph..! it's so good, s-so s'good...”

your fingers swipe through the aching crimson mark on his throat, earning a mix of a grunt and moan from him as you kitten-lick your stained digits. he desperately thrusts into you, leaning forward with his tongue sticking out to copy your movement, tasting himself on your skin. it's almost creepy the way you both get off to it. your tongues brush against each other as you keep licking from your fingers, and it's enough to get you close to your release.

he notices, of course, and rapidly speeds up his fingers below, moaning your name as he pinches your puffy nub. you squeal, head tilting back as your hips jerk into his hand.

“shit, sweetheart.” he whines, releasing his grip on your nipple to spread kisses against your other tit, tongue lathering saliva as he spits down on the perky bud. “my sweet girl, fuck, i love you!”

your pussy squeezes around him like a vice as you finish. you both feel like you’ve been doused in a mind numbing drug as you cum at the same time. his jaw drops, red stained lips locked apart and eyes shut as he shoots his cum into you. he kisses your thigh on his sweaty shoulder, your cunt twitching as he lays your leg back down on the bed.

he lets out loud whimpers, cock still inside you as he feels your mix of releases seeping out of your pussy.

you open your eyes, cooing immediately at the sight of his dazed eyes, his head probably still fuzzy from the blood loss. he notices your glance and brings a hand to his neck, wincing as he touches the puncture marks left by your fangs.

he smiles sweetly. he can't help but be filled with joy from you taking his blood and seed.

god, he can barely string words together, barely even remember how to speak at all— but manages to let out one little word.

“more..” he whispers, voice barely even audible, as his hands grip your hips again.

you whine softly, shaking your head as your hands reach for his face. “no more, baby.” you exhale, still panting heavily. “mm, did so good, sweet boy..”

he sighs in defeat, but nods nonetheless. he's tired as fuck, and he did good, he pleased you. that’s all that matters.

you tiredly lean over to the nightstand, pulling out a tissue from the box before putting it against his neck. the pressure causes a slight sting, but he doesn’t mind. he loves the feeling.

his eyes flutter close as he listens to your sweet nothings, feeling a sense of delight washing over him. not wanting to lose contact with you, he grabs your hand, bringing it up to press a kiss on your knuckles. his grip's a little weak as he tugs you closer, laying down on your body.

both of you slightly wince at the aftershocks. you lean closer to give him a peck as you pull him onto you, hands threading through his hair.

he looks up at you with glassy eyes as you lazily suck on his lip, his body relaxing even more. his hand goes up to gently brush some hair away from your face before shutting his eyes. “we should clean up..” he murmurs lightly, tone all soft and sugary, and a little slurred from his fatigue.

“i'll do it.” you coo, pressing a final kiss against his mouth. he hums in content, turning his head sideways so his cheek squishes against your chest as sleep takes over him after one more declaration of love from his lips.

so, yeah. that sick, endless love dean winchester has always quietly craved is here in the grasp of a vampire. and good luck to any fucker who tried to separate them.

꒰ 𑄽𑄺 ⠀you have a new message from dolly!

sorry for any mistakes !!! this has been sitting in my drafts so i kinda just wanted to get it out 😓 i love crazies mwah lowk inspired by this bot !!

taglist: @multiversefanfics @misticsilver

also tagging spn moots cough …! (lmk if u dont wanna be!!! <3) @soldiersgirl @deanstubble @losers-clvb @jaredwnch @mostlymarvelgirl @manicpixievixen @sapphic-destiel @cherrygirlfriend

[mattbrittonnyc]

Uncovering AI's Influence on Consumer Content: A Dive with Matt Britton

In an era where digital transformation dictates market trends, understanding how artificial intelligence (AI) is reshaping consumer content consumption on digital platforms is crucial for businesses aiming to stay ahead. When it comes to gaining insights into this evolving landscape, few voices are as authoritative and engaging as Matt Britton. As a renowned AI keynote speaker, founder and CEO of the consumer research platform Suzy, and a seasoned consultant to more than half of the Fortune 500 companies, Britton stands out as a beacon of knowledge in the domain of consumer trends and digital innovation.

Matt Britton: A Profile of a Leading AI Expert Speaker

Before delving deeper into how AI is influencing digital content consumption, it’s essential to understand why Matt Britton is the go-to expert for these insights. Britton’s journey in the marketing and consultation realm, highlighted by his leadership at Suzy—a real-time market research platform—underscores his adeptness at leveraging technology to decode consumer behavior. His best-selling book, YouthNation, has already laid down a framework on capturing the thriving market of millennials, further establishing him as a pioneer in spotting and adapting to emerging consumer trends.

The Impact of AI on Consumer Content Consumption

The shift in how consumers interact with digital content is palpable. With each passing day, AI technologies are becoming more sophisticated, tailoring user experiences to individual preferences and behaviors. Britton’s talks often highlight how these advancements are not just changing what content is consumed, but also how it is consumed.

Personalization at Scale

One of the most significant impacts of AI in digital content consumption is its ability to personalize at an unprecedented scale. Platforms like Netflix and Spotify use AI to analyze user preferences and viewing habits, providing recommendations that keep users engaged for longer periods. Britton’s analysis often includes how such personalization is setting new norms in consumer expectations, pushing brands to adopt sophisticated AI tools to stay relevant.

Content Discovery Through AI

AI is also revolutionizing how consumers discover content. Algorithms now have the capability to suggest content that a user might like, even if it's from genres they haven't explored before. This not only enhances user experience but also increases content reach for creators. Britton, in his keynotes, illustrates this with case studies where brands have successfully implemented AI to boost content discovery and engagement.

Real-Time Content Optimization

Another area where AI is making a mark is in the real-time optimization of content. AI algorithms can now adjust content on the fly based on how users interact with it. For example, if an article or video isn't performing well, AI can suggest real-time tweaks to improve engagement. Britton’s discussions often explore how this dynamic adjustment leads to higher content efficiency and satisfaction.

Why Matt Britton is Among the Top Keynote Speakers for Your Next Conference

When planning a conference that deals with cutting-edge topics like AI and consumer trends, having top conference speakers who can deliver content with authority and engagement is key. Britton’s extensive experience as an AI expert speaker makes him an invaluable addition to any event focused on innovation and consumer trends. His speeches are not only informative but also packed with practical insights, driven by data from his work at Suzy and his advisory roles with numerous Fortune 500 companies.

Engaging Delivery and Rich Insights

Britton’s ability to convey complex topics in an engaging manner is one of his standout qualities. His presentations are designed to captivate the audience, filled with relevant anecdotes, emerging trends, and strategic advice that attendees can take back to their teams and implement.

Tailored Content for Diverse Audiences

Understanding that each audience is unique, Britton tailors his presentations to meet the specific interests and challenges of his listeners. Whether it's a room full of tech enthusiasts or traditional marketers looking to navigate the digital world, Britton adjusts his content to resonate with everyone in the hall.

Conclusion: The Go-To Innovation Speaker for Understanding AI in Consumer Trends

As businesses scramble to adapt to rapid digital changes, understanding the role of AI in consumer content consumption becomes essential. Matt Britton, with his deep expertise as an AI keynote speaker and his frontline experiences as the CEO of Suzy, offers invaluable insights into these shifts. His keynotes not only shed light on the path technology is paving but also prepare businesses to walk it efficiently. Booking Matt Britton for your next conference could be the step that helps your audience leverage AI not just as a tool, but as a transformational force in understanding and leading consumer content trends in the digital age.

[nicholasandriani]

You’re Doing Human Wrong: The Clickbait Conundrum of Turning People into Products

Ah, the internet, a wondrous labyrinth where the minotaurs are clickbait titles, luring us into their dens with promises of life-altering secrets. Today’s special: “You’re Doing X Wrong.” That’s right, from slicing bread to living your life, you’re apparently doing it all wrong. But worry not, for I am here to guide you through the maze with a torch of insight (and a pinch of humor). The…