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rainbowwing251 · 5 months

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The Other Chris (Wild Kratts Tickle Fic)

A/N: I can’t. Believe. I’m doing this.

Seriously, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I should not be doing this, but I’m doing it anyway.

So uh… yeah, this is… a thing! It’s a tickle fic for the PBS Kids series Wild Kratts!

I know I said I didn’t want to make tickle content for the show, but truth be told… I really wanted to for… almost as long as I’ve been into the show. The only reason why I decided against it was because I was afraid. Afraid of how the Wild Kratts fandom would see me for making this kind of content. Afraid that the tickling community wouldn’t care about tickle content for this show. Afraid that somehow, someway, the Kratt Brothers themselves would find my content.

But recently, two out of my three fears have been proven false. It turns out that there IS a tickling community for Wild Kratts and that the tickling community as a whole does enjoy the limited amount of tickle content there is for it. I’m still concerned about whether or not the brothers themselves will find it, but I guess I shouldn’t worry about that for now…

This is a long author’s note, and I apologize for that, but before I get onto this fic, I would like to mention that this fic is a collab! This is a collab between myself and @kittyfluffies on Tumblr, whom I may have accidentally dragged into the Wild Kratts fandom with me… oops.

Well, let’s see how this goes! Real quick, this fic takes place shortly after the events of the episode “The Other Martins”!

P.S. Interpret this as Krattcest and I’ll get the sniper rifle. That shit is DISGUSTING.

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Today was a horrible day to be Chris Kratt.

Everything that could go wrong today did go wrong, except for the appearance of one or more of the villains. But would that have been any worse than falling into a pile of rotten apples, nearly being dive bombed by a Purple Martin (multiple times in fact), finding an American Pine Marten, having an American Red Squirrel steal your Creature Power Suit, getting tickled by said squirrel and your brother at the same time, and falling into a body of water, in that order, all on the same day? All while your brother teases you relentlessly the whole time? Chris would argue that this is worse than anything the villains could throw at him and the rest of the Tortuga crew.

He tried to combat his bad luck by calling it a day early to try and think of animals that shared his name, but there was one problem with this plan: he can’t think of a single animal that has “Chris” in its name. Not a single one.

“Come on, there’s gotta be one animal out there with the name Chris that isn’t me…! There has to be…!” he thought as he laid in a bed in the basement of the Tortuga. He had intended to lie in one of the hammocks that was in the central room of the ship, but remembered that none of those were his. They belonged, from top to bottom, to Aviva, Koki, and Jimmy Z, and as much as he would have liked to be in a hammock right now, he didn’t want to risk being scolded for taking a hammock that wasn’t his. That, and he was already feeling irritated by the events of the day and didn’t want to be angered any further, so he chose to isolate himself to try and calm down.

This worked for some time, but eventually, the peace was disturbed by the appearance of someone else.

The moment he heard those footsteps, he knew who it was. And he groaned.

“Oh no…” He should have known that there was no way he would be able to go the rest of the day without seeing the one who was responsible for half of the troubles he faced today, and yet somehow, he thought he would be left alone.

The door to the basement opened, and in came the reason he was even lying here in the first place: his older, mischievous, and sometimes annoying brother, Martin Kratt.

“Hey bro!” he greeted before noticing the look on Chris’s face. He’s seen him direct that face at the villains and sometimes him a couple of times, but something about that expression in this moment seemed… off.

“What? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“After everything you put me through today? No, absolutely not.”

That upsetted Martin a little bit, but he did understand why he’d feel that way. It didn’t stop him from teasing him a little bit more, however.

“Awww, come on, Chris! You got to see animals that share a name with your bro! Does that not make you happy? Not even a little bit?” he teased, putting his hand on his shoulder and leaning towards his face.

Chris rolled his eyes at his brother’s actions, “Remember when I said that purple martins didn’t annoy me anymore, but this one-” Chris put a finger on Martin’s chest, “-not so much? I meant it.”

“Awww, you’re no fun, bro. I was just messing with you! I wanted you to enjoy The Day of the Martins!”

“Your teasing didn’t help me get my Creature Power Suit back from that red squirrel.”

“But I still got it back!”

Chris sighed and poked his brother again, “You don’t get it, do you?” He was about to lecture his older brother before he heard what sounded like a mix of a giggle and a squeak, “You’re still laughing at my luck, aren’t you?”

“N-no, just watch where you’re poking me!” Martin explained, grabbing Chris’s wrist and pulling it away from him. Chris looked down to see where he had poked him, thinking he had poked him in the chest again, only to realize that he had accidentally poked his brother in the stomach.

Suddenly, he got an idea. An idea on how he could get back at his brother for his merciless teasing.

If he couldn’t think of any animals with Chris in their name, then he’ll have to invent one. One that can give him the power to take revenge on his brother.

“...Chris?” Martin’s concerned voice pulled him out of his thoughts, “You alright?”

A malicious grin formed on Chris’s face, “Chris isn’t here right now.”

Martin raised a brow at his younger brother’s statement, “Huh? What are you talking about, bro? You’re right here! What do you mean you aren’t-”

“Chris. Isn’t. Here. Right now.” The green brother grabbed Martin by his wrists and swiftly pinned him down onto the bed. “Only his alter-ego~”

Upon hearing that teasy tone in his voice, Martin immediately knew what was about to happen. “C-Chris? Can we talk about this…?!”

Chris let out a sinister-sounding chuckle, “I already told you, Chris isn’t here~ Only…” he brought his hands into Martin’s vision and wiggled his fingers.

“W-wait, nohoho! Don’t-!”

“The TICKLE MONSTER!” The younger brother drilled a finger into the other’s armpits, “But right now, you can call me the ‘Other Chris’~”

To Chris’s slight shock, Martin had already burst into a fit of giggles with a few laughs mixed in for good measure.

“Nohohohoho, Chrihihihihs! W-We can tahahahalk about thihihis!”

“Laughing already? And from a single finger in the armpits, no less~? This will be easy~”

The blue brother was already squirming under the ticklish touch, trying and failing to throw Chris off of him.

“Trying to throw me off, are we~? I think that warrants a punishment, wouldn’t you agree~?” Chris ignored the unintentional rhyme and snuck a second wiggling finger into Martin’s armpits, causing his giggles to rise in volume and his squirming to become a little more violent.

“C-Chrihihis nohohohoho! That t-tihihihihihickles!” Martin cried out, his arms coming down in an attempt to protect his armpits, but unfortunately for him, that only served to trap his brother’s fingers in there.

“I told you, I’m not Chris! I am the Other Chris!” The “Other Chris” protested as he broke through the blue Kratt’s defenses to slip a third finger under his arms.

“Chrihihihihis, I knohohohow you’re in thehehehehre!”

“Nope, Chris is nowhere to be found right now, but I promise, he’ll come back once I give him what he wants~”

“Whahahahahahat? What d-dohohohoes he wahahahant?”

Chris gave him the most evil smirk he could muster. “Revenge~” With that, he skipped the fourth step and slipped the last two fingers under Martin’s arms. With all ten fingers tickling him, Martin went from squirming to thrashing uncontrollably, nearly throwing Chris off of him a few times. He’d also started kicking his legs, desperately trying to distract himself from the tingly sensation under his arms.

“NOHOHOHOHO, BROHOHOHOHOHO! C-CUT IT OHOHOHOHOUT!” Martin seemed to nearly scream out as he kept kicking and thrashing for a few more seconds, only stopping when he felt a hand on his ankle.

“Are you trying to kick me~? How rude~!” Chris teased. He was about to stick a hand back under his brother’s arm before he was hit with another idea. Martin, who had squeezed his eyes shut during his laughing fit, opened them and giggled in anticipation. “C-Chrihihihihs?”

The evil grin his brother had on his face nearly made him burst into laughter again.

“You know, Martin… I’m pretty sure it’s not a good idea to kick another person, and yet you tried to kick me anyway. I think it’s time for me to switch spots and teach you another lesson~”

“Whahahahat?” Martin questioned through his giggles before he felt his shoelaces coming undone. “Whahahaha- hehehehehey! Don’t remove my shoes, plehehehehehese! Chrihihihihis!”

“It’s too late to beg for mercy now, Martin~” Chris slowly pulled both shoes off before slipping a finger into the blue brother’s socks.

“Nononononono dohohohohohon’t! Dohohohon’t do ihihihihit!”

“Do what~?” Chris asked him, pulling one sock off of his foot, “Take your shoes and socks off? Well too bad, I will not stop until you apologize to me… and to Chris~”

“But yohohohou are Chrihihih- NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!” Martin burst into laughter upon feeling a hand on his bare left foot.

“Laughing already~? This will be easy~” With that, Chris dug in, scribbling his fingers all over the other’s feet. Martin absolutely lost it in response.

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO, CHRIHIHIHIHIHIHIS! S-STAHAHAHAHAHP!”

“Begging for mercy again are we~? I don’t remember you giving Chris mercy when he told you to stop, so why should I~?” Chris ribbed, leaning in closer to Martin’s face in an attempt to make the teasing worse for his older brother. Needless to say, it worked like a charm.

“PLEAHAHAHAHAHAHASE STAHAHAHAHAHAP TEHEHEHEASING MEHEHEHE!”

“And why should I do that~?” the younger brother asked, focusing the tickling on Martin’s arches, a spot he knew was unbearably sensitive to any kind of touch, “Does it tickle more when I tease you~? Does it make you lose all of your strength so you can’t fight back~? Tell me, Martin, does teasing make you weak to tickles~? Even more so than you already are~?”

Martin’s only response was to throw his head back in uncontrollable laughter before immediately rushing to cover his face with a pillow to muffle himself.

“That was not a response, but I’ll take it anyway~” Chris reacted with a giggle, far too amused by how much his brother was laughing. “Besides, now that you’re covering your face, you won’t be able to see what I’m doing~”

To prove his point, the younger Kratt suddenly switched from scribbling Martin’s arches to scratching under his toes. Just as he predicted, Martin’s laughter increased in both pitch and volume, though it was muffled a little by the pillow.

“CRIHIHIHIHS NOHOHO-MMMPH!” The older Kratt had lifted the pillow a little to plead for Chris to have mercy on him, but he had to cut himself off by pulling the pillow back over his face because he was afraid his laughter would alert someone upstairs.

“You brought this on yourself, Martin~ All you had to do was get Chris’s vest back without tickling him, but nope, you couldn’t resist~”

Chris looked down to return his focus to Martin’s feet when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bright green disc in one of Martin’s shoes. For the third time that day, he was hit with an evil idea. He slowed the tickling under Martin’s toes to a stop and waited for him to catch his breath.

“Hey Martin~”

“A-are you fihihihinally going to have mercy on mehehehe…?” Martin let out his after-giggles and slowly lifted the pillow off of his face. Chris grinned a little at seeing the bright pink blush on his brother’s face, a clear indication that this was a job well done so far. He nearly laughed when he saw his eyes widen in horror.

“T-that’s…!”

Chris let out the most malicious laugh he could muster. “The Pine Marten Power Disc~” He then leaned in towards Martin again. “I think you know what I’m going to do with this, but first, I need to find a pine marten~”

The other Martin tried to snatch the Power Disc out of his brother’s hands, but Chris just dodged each attempt effortlessly.

“Now… how am I going to keep you from escaping…?” Chris pondered, realizing that he had not considered the possibility of using an animal’s Creature Powers to tickle Martin. At that moment, both brothers heard the door to the basement open.

“What’s going on down here? I thought I heard someone laughing…” Aviva walked into the room and spotted the brothers. Martin’s blush deepened into a dark shade of red while Chris’s face turned a bright pink, just like his brother’s face was a few seconds ago. The blush quickly faded from the green brother’s face when he realized that the answer to his question had just caught them in the act.

“Aviva, keep him pinned down for me, will you?”

“Huh…?” Aviva was very confused, but upon seeing the tears of mirth in the corners of Martin’s eyes combined with the blush and residual giggles, she quickly caught on to what was going on, “Ohhh, I see~ Sure thing, Chris~”

“I’m not Chris, I’m the Other Chris!”

Aviva couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that, “Whatever you say, ‘Other Chris’~”

Chris elected to ignore the sudden embarrassment that welled up within him upon hearing Aviva’s teasing words and walked out of the basement to go find his “partner” in crime. As soon as he left, Aviva turned to face the flustered mess of a Kratt brother on the bed.

“Hehehehey Avivahahaha…!”

She couldn’t help but giggle at him, “Chris got you good, didn’t he~?”

“Yeahahaha, and he’s not even dohohohne yet!” Martin answered as the remaining after giggles slowly subsided. “You’ll get me out of here, rihihight…?”

“Hmm…” The inventor pretended to ponder his question before she pinned him down, just as Chris asked her to, “Nope~ Don’t want to get on Chris’s- sorry, ‘Other Chris’s’- bad side~”

Martin’s giggles quickly returned as he realized there was no hope of escape, “Nohohohoho! I mehehehehehean, I geheheht it, but nohohohoho!”

“No what, Martin~? Do you want me to get on your brother’s bad side~? On ‘Other Chris’s’ bad side~? After everything he did to you~?” Aviva smirked at the blue Kratt’s sudden laughing fit, “No way~! If you can’t handle his tickle skills, how do you expect me to handle them~?”

Before Martin could respond (if he would’ve been able to answer at all given how hard he was laughing), both he and Aviva heard the sound of a Creature Power Suit being activated upstairs, followed by the sound of quiet footsteps approaching the door to the basement.

Aviva couldn’t help but let out an evil chuckle as she saw her pinned victim’s eyes widen in horror, “Looks like your time is running out, Martin~”

“NOHOHOHOHO!”

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The whole time Aviva was teasing his brother, Chris had entered the main room of the Tortuga to find a pine marten. As soon as the door opened and he stepped inside, he finally allowed himself to break character.

“Phew… keeping up a fake persona is tiring… but oh is it worth it~” Chris thought to himself, “Let’s see… is there a pine marten in here…?”

Chris looked around the room and noticed that two certain crew members were nowhere to be found. “Koki and Jimmy aren’t here…? That’s a little odd…”

Before he could further question their whereabouts, his eyes landed on a pine marten that was sitting in Aviva’s desk chair. Chris grinned, “But right now, I need the help of my ‘partner’ in crime~”

He made sure to carefully approach the pine marten so as not to scare it away before he put on his Creature Power Suit and took Martin’s Pine Marten Power Disc out of his left pocket.

“Hey there! Li’l Marty, was it?” Chris asked the little creature as it turned to look at him, “Well I’ll need your help to get revenge on Big Marty~”

He put his gloves on. He was finally ready to enact the last part of his plan.

“Insert Pine Marten Power Disc!”

He put one gloved finger on the pine marten.

“Touch pine marten!”

He pressed the central button on his vest, and…

“Activate pine marten powers!"

The suit activated, and within seconds, he had become a pine marten.

“Haha, I finally got the chance to use pine marten powers! But I’ll have to test out the pine marten’s hunting tricks some other time. I have a more important prey to devour downstairs~”

Chris ran out the door and down the steps to the basement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He made it to the bottom of the stairs, but waited a moment before entering the basement to listen to the pure terror that found its way into Martin’s laughter.

“Did he hear me activate my Creature Power Suit?” Chris wondered before smirking, “Good.”

He finally entered the room to see Aviva holding down a hysterical Martin, but while they did hear the sound of the door opening and looked to see if he was there, they failed to look down towards the floor, where he actually was.

“Look down here~”

Aviva looked down and giggled upon both seeing him and hearing Martin shriek out a “AVIHIHIHIVA, LET ME GOHOHOHOHO!” She just ignored him and greeted Chris.

“There you are Ch- Other Chris!” she corrected herself.

“You see what my plan is now, Aviva~?”

“Sure do~ Want me to stay here, or do you want me to leave you to it?”

Chris tried to think about his response, but couldn’t hear his own thoughts over the sound of his brother’s uncontrollable laughter. Out of playful spite, he decided, “Leave him to me~”

Aviva nodded, “Okay then~ Sorry Martin, but it looks like you’ll be stuck with him for a bit longer~ See you later… if you’re still alive that is~” She released said Kratt from her grasp before walking out of the door and heading back upstairs. The whole time she was walking away, Martin was pleading for her to reconsider and help him escape, but it was futile. She and Chris had already made their decisions.

Martin’s laughter had subsided a little after the inventor left, but he still had a hard time controlling himself, especially when he looked at his younger brother sitting on the floor. Watching. Waiting there. Menacingly.

“C-Chrihihihihihs? Hellohohohoho?”

Chris leered at him, “Are you ready for the grand finale, Martin~?”

“Nohohohohoho, nohohot at ahahahahahahall!”

“Well too bad~”

The green pine marten ran over to one of the legs near the foot of the bed, climbed up it, and ran across Martin’s body to get to his neck. The whole time he ran across his brother’s torso and ribs, he dragged his tail behind him, intentionally tickling him and sending him into another fit of laughter.

“H-hehehehehehey, wahahahahahatch the taihihihihihil!”

“What do you mean? I was watching my tail!” Chris snuck up to Martin’s ear before he spoke again, “I was watching it tickle you~”

He could feel Martin shiver as he brought his now-free hands up to his ears to cover them up. Unfortunately for him, the ears were the last spot his brother had in mind.

While his hands were up and covering his ears, Chris made his way to his neck and stood dangerously close to the collar of his shirt.

He could practically feel the heat radiating off his brother’s skin as he took note of the blush that had managed to spread from Martin’s face to his neck. He saw the tips of his ears through his fingers and noticed that they even had a tinge of red on them. He didn’t know his older brother could get this flustered!

“You ready~?” He asked teasingly, knowing full well what Martin’s answer was going to be.

“N-nohohohoho! Chrihihihis, d-dohohohon’t do ihihit!”

Chris couldn’t help the smug grin that made its way onto his face, though he didn’t turn to show it to his brother, “Too bad~ Here we go~!”

He stuck his head into the collar of Martin’s shirt, slowly inching his way in. He was only a few inches in when he suddenly pulled himself out and began sniffing at the blue Kratt’s neck. Martin was in no way prepared for this sudden change and nearly let out a squeal as he desperately tried to move his head from side to side to get his brother’s face away from his neck.

“H-hehehehehehey, don’t sniff my nehehehehck!” I-I dohohohon’t smehehehell!”

“That’s not what I’m going for, Martin~ I’m just here to make you laugh, and unless you apologize for what you did to Chris today…” Chris moved down to where Martin’s blush ended on his neck and went right back to sniffing, “You better prepare yourself~”

“I-I cahahahahahahn’t!”

“You can’t apologize? And here I thought you knew basic manners~”

The green pine marten stayed at Martin’s neck for a few more seconds before the sniffing came to an end. However, while his brother had his guard down, Chris quickly zipped into his shirt and ran across his stomach over and over again.

Martin’s only response to the sneak attack was a squeal so loud that it nearly stunned Chris. While he knew that the walls of the Tortuga are rather thick, he highly doubted that Aviva, Koki, and Jimmy were unable to hear that squeal, even if they were outside of the ship.

“CHRIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIS, NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! I-I CAN’T- AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Huh? What was that, Martin~? I can’t understand you, you’re laughing too hard~” Chris taunted as he kept up the pace and continued to race around on his brother’s torso. He dragged his tail behind him once again, swishing it back and forth to make it tickle even more, and even stopped running a few times to pretend to use it like a paintbrush on Martin’s navel, which nearly resulted in him getting pushed out of his shirt by his hands. It didn’t take long for Chris to notice that Martin’s squirming and pushing was gradually fading, a tell-tale sign that he was nearly at his limit.

“Ready to say sorry yet~?”

“Y-YEHEHEHEHES! YEHEHEHEHEEHS! I’M SOHOHOHOHOHORY! CHRIHIHIHIHIS, PLEAHAHAHAHAHAHASE!”

The moment Martin said sorry, Chris brought the tickles to a halt and carefully climbed out of his sibling’s shirt, doing his best to not make any of his steps tickle him any further.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it~?” Chris teased him one last time before he hopped off of him and onto the floor, waiting for his giggly mess of a brother to catch his breath and calm down.

“T-thahahahaht… that wahahahahs evihihihihil…!”

“Good~ That’s what I was going for~ So next time, when you try to bully your brother for an entire day, remember… I will be here to tickle you until you apologize to him for your behavior~” With that, Chris stood up, said, “Deactivate!” and reverted back to his normal appearance and personality.

“You okay, bro?” he asked and held out his hand, worried that he might have taken his tickly punishment a bit too far.

“Y-yeah…” Martin breathed out, taking his younger brother’s hand and letting himself be pulled up into a sitting position. “Just give me a few more seconds to breathe…”

After two deep breaths, he got up off of the bed and stood next to his brother, “Do you think the crew heard me squeal…?”

“Only one way to find out! Come on, let’s see if they’re upstairs!”

A light pink blush returned to Martin’s face, but nonetheless, he went upstairs with Chris into the main room of the Tortuga. When the door opened, they were greeted with the sight of Aviva waiting in front of the big computer, while Koki and Jimmy were at their desks, having turned to face the brothers.

“So…” Aviva started with a smirk, “Who’s going to explain that loud squeal we heard downstairs~?”

Martin’s blush turned a dark red, while Chris just stood there, trying to look as though he had no idea what she was talking about.

“I’m not an expert on human noises, but I don’t think that squeal belonged to any of us.”

“Certainly didn’t come from me! I’d know my own squeals anywhere!” Jimmy responded to Koki’s comment, completely unaware of the engineer creeping up behind him until he heard a, “Boo!”

“AAAAAAH!” Jimmy didn’t squeal, but he did indeed scream and bolted behind Koki and her chair. Everyone couldn’t help but laugh at his panicked reaction.

“Hehehe, I think that’s enough to prove that it wasn’t him~” She then turned her attention back to the brothers, “Sooooooo~?”

The light pink blush Martin had the entire time turned a dark red again as his embarrassment grew, and even Chris couldn’t fight the faint pink blush on his cheeks as he tried his best to play it cool and pretend that he didn’t understand her.

No one said anything for a few seconds, then the blue Kratt finally spoke up, “I-It was me… and I’ve got to admit, Chris is a surprisingly good tickler if he got me to squeal that loud!” Martin quickly regained his usual energy and peered at his brother, who just looked at him with a confused expression.

“Huh? What are you talking about, bro? I didn’t tickle you!”

Martin gave him a “you’re really doing this?” look and decided to play along, “No, that was totally you, Chris, I swear!”

“No way! I’m not as good at tickling people as you are!”

“I think I remember hearing your voice teasing me into oblivion! I’d know your voice anywhere, bro!”

“I’m not good at teasing, either! Martin, I swear, you’re confusing me with someone else!”

For a moment, Koki and Jimmy thought that they were having a genuine argument over a supposed tickle attack, but when Aviva gave them a knowing grin, they immediately caught on to what was really happening.

“Nope, that was totally you! And you know what~?” Martin’s voice turned teasy out of nowhere as he brought his hands up into Chris’s view, wiggling his fingers, “I was lying when I said I was sorry~”

“Huh? Wha-” The younger brother was initially confused before spotting the wiggly fingers that were slowing approaching him, “W-wait, Martin noooOOOOHOHOHOHO DOHHOHOHOHON’T!” He immediately cracked when he felt his older brother’s fingers on his sides, ribs, and belly. It didn’t take for him to try to fall to the floor to escape the ticklish hell that was unleashed upon him, but unfortunately, Martin had followed him down, never stopping his assault.

“Haha, revenge sure is sweet!” Martin cheered, “Okay, I was sort of lying when I said I wasn’t sorry, I did feel bad for you, but right now, I care more about getting my revenge~”

Chris could only laugh and try to curl up as he felt Martin’s hand close in on the center of his stomach, but he managed to trap his hands there instead, sealing his tickly fate.

Aviva, Koki, and Jimmy couldn’t help but laugh along as they watched the chaos unfold in front of them.

“Hehe, these boys will never change, will they~?”

#tickling #wild kratts #Giggle Rats #lee!Martin #ler!Chris #with a little bit of lee!Chris and ler!Martin at the end #featuring a very teasy Aviva #I still can't believe I did this #But I AM CRINGE AND I AM FREE #fun fact: I typed up the last 430 words of this fic on December 22nd (the day before I posted this)#and I'm posting this on December 23rd which just so happens to be Martin Kratt's birthday #Happy Birthday Martin Kratt! What's your gift? your tickle monster of a brother apparently #one more thing: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone!#this is probably going to be my only fic for 2023 #unless I finally finish that Splatoon 3 fic I was working on prior to this one #but if I don't you can expect to see that fic in 2024!#…oh shit I completely forgot that this was a collab fic #sorry fluffykitties!#If you want to see cute headcanons for games like Mr. Love or anime like Boueibu go check her out!#HELP THIS FIC WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE A TITLE #It’s The Other Chris if you want to know!

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singsweetmelodies · 3 months

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watching the alpines qualify dead last... my immediate thought was "oh it's going to be sympathy kisses+ for Pierre all season long in the your lips, my lips (apocalypse) universe" 💀

oh my gosh, HI 🤭😍 well this ask made me grin far too fondly down at my phone screen... it just means SO much that people are still thinking of this fic universe even though it hasn't been updated in forever. 🥺 i am really SO touched!

and i also agree COMPLETELY! sympathy kisses all night long, for sure... perhaps even a sympathy blowjob or two... or even (since charles has once again reminded us that he's not sensitive to bottoming) a sympathy fuck 😏 but whatever the case might be, you can bet your ass that they'll definitely be in each other's beds in the 2023 kisses fic 'verse <3333 😘

#asks & answers #🖥 emotionlessotherwiseobsessive #📝 WIPs tag #wip: 2023 kisses #aaaaahhhh this fic 🥺🙈🥰#every time someone says something lovely like this; i get inspired to try and pick it up again and finally finish it #because like #what WOULD they do in bahrain 2024?#where would they be? will they FINALLY have figured out their feelings and be living happy ever after?#or will they still be stupid?#see; *i* know the answer; because believe it or not that fic has 13 more chapters fully plotted out #yes. THIRTEEN. i'm insane i know #but the point is; there's an entire plotline and a VERY fun arc upcoming (if only i can remember how to write 🙈)#BUT THINGS LIKE THIS MAKE ME WANT TO THINK OF A SEQUEL #and it's like #wtf katherine you can't be thinking of a sequel when the original isn't even finished yet!!#AND YET #what if there *is* a little sequel... just a one-shot... about them in bahrain 2024...#being gossip girls all weekend long... and then that silly failed fist bump/hand grab thing... and THEN the post-quali kissies...#what if what if what if #aaaaahhhh xD #anyways. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK!! you have set my brain on fire a little bit (but in the best way 🥰❤️)

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spacemutineer · 4 months

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It's all posted now, the full version of the best idea I ever had. I love this story, I loved making it (although it took me an absurd amount of time), and I've loved posting it gradually and seeing readers' reactions to it. And now it's all up for everyone to read.

#fic #fanfic #sherlock holmes #acd canon #ao3 #fiction #novella #I can't believe it's done #I worked so hard and I'm thrilled and overwhelmed that it's finally finished

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a-flickering-soul · 1 year

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dacryphilia

The very worst thing you can do right now is bore me. Caleen shudders. “You’re not going to believe me anyways, are you?” Her voice tremors, and Dedra wants to hear it break. “No,” she says slowly. She can feel a smile tugging at her lips. She fights like mad to suppress it, and fails. It pulls at her lips, threatening to split them, and she lets her teeth show. “I suppose not.”

Or; The Interrogation Scene and some bonuses from Lt. Dedra Meero's point of view.

Or; Sophia "Dyke With Bad Taste" A-Flickering-Soul saw this

and this

and THIS

and thought, "How can I not write the most reprehensible, terrible, Dead Doveish 2.6k words about it?"

Mind the tags.

#andor #star wars #flickerthoughts #flicker wrote this #dedraposting #and HOW.#man. man. dedra meero character of all time to ME. i hate her sm. i wanna tear that woman apart. i wanna vivisect her.#man i have such cool people following me. i'm sorry guys.#when she said 'you're not going to believe me are you' and she just smiled and said 'no' so gently AUGH!#i had to. i had to. when she dragged her whole hand over her face. i had to. i'm sorry. i had to.#i think daily abt how denise gough was like 'yeah i can't replicate what my face did in that scene now' like....she was POSSESSED. same.#you need to know i literally told myself nah im not gonna get into her there's so many other amazing characters she's not that great #AND YET. there is a canon interracial lesbian couple w the most fascinating dynamic. there are so many good characters. AND YET.#man #mostly im proud of this bc it's basically exactly what i wanted it to be and it's short but still good and i worked rly hard on the ending #but also i feel terrible #but also i'm proud i finally finished a dddne fic! i have so many drafts and this is the first one i finished ;_;#but also...man.#it's like i completed spgtober recuperated for a month and had so much evilness built up in me i had to do this #man i took and edited these screenshots and adria arjona's acting is just insane this scene is genuinely terrifying she looks half dead #every actor in this series just fucking brought their a game im serious

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cheswirls · 1 year

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having immense tetherverse thoughts once again

#hhhhhhhh the choice of What Do I Write First once uni is out #actually believe it or not I'm doing hq stuff today so I can get caught up for tensemi next wk #but hmmm i am endlessly flipflopping between jb/sw/623 #depends what mood im in by then but tether sequel might be a contender now #(i say this but visions s2 drops 5/4 so it'll prolly be sw winning)#that or i will keep working away at these 2 non-op fics i need to finish #depends but uh #rn i love pkmn w all my heart and soul and i wanna do more bg scenes while i have this ipad #which means.. if i can afford to this week ill revisit the tetherverse dw list for ideas #(god i say THIS but i have to finish a handful of wips before the tablet is due #bc i can't keep it over finals week n the program i used this sem won't let me export psd files #meaning i gotta get these finished enough to export as pngs n draw over them)#mmmmmmmmmmmmm much more to do than anticipated

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bettyfrommars · 3 months

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Whole Lotta Love

Eddie x fem!Reader

18+MDNI, oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, pet names like baby and sweetheart, both Eddie and reader are over 20.

I received a request for a fic where, no matter how hard he tries, Eddie can't make you cum, and I was happy to do it because it's a much more common situation than how it's represented in most media. I'm not sure this is exactly what they were looking for, but it was a very fun thing to write. This Eddie had me giggling.

a/n: I wasn't sure I would finish this wip after I wrote the first two lines, but then I was in the mood yesterday and smashed it out. It was a very quick write, definitely not my opus, but a true joy, all the same. I hope you like.

wc: 3.1k

Eddie flopped onto his back, huffing out a satisfied breath. “That was so good,” he hummed.

The fingers of one hand drew a lazy circle on his bare chest as it rose and fell, while his other hand scrambled over to capture yours.

Shifting his gaze, he caught you staring at the ceiling, unblinking. “Was that…did you…?”

“Um,” you paused. It wasn’t that you were afraid to be truthful with him, but the fact that orgasms weren’t flying out of you at the same rate made you feel inadequate, like maybe you were the problem.

He propped up on his forearm, searching your face, brow creased with concern. “Did I hurt you or…?”

“No, no,” you rolled over, pulling the sheet up over your hips. “It felt great.”

At that, he gave an actual sigh of relief.

“But, I didn’t cum. Or at least, I don’t think I did.”

“You’re not sure?”

You chewed at your top lip. “No, I am sure. I didn’t.”

He traced a few hearts on your shoulder with the tip of his calloused finger. “Have you ever? With me?”

Your silence spoke volumes, and Eddie’s mind raced to all of the times you’d been intimate in the past few weeks since you’d been together. He blamed himself for being too eager and sloppy, and shit—he was so crazy about you, it made him dizzy. He couldn’t believe you let him touch you, let alone cum inside.

His head snapped up. “But what about that time I went down on you in the closet at Robin’s party? I swear I felt you—”

“I was close that time,” you admitted, remembering how your legs shook and that heat began to build, in the same way it did when you pleasured yourself. “But then Gareth was shouting, looking for you and it went away.”

“Fucking Gareth,” he mumbled. “You were close then, okay. Can I try that again? Now?”

He was already moving down the bed, palming the crook of your knee to slide your leg open.

You put your hand on his head, glancing over at the digital alarm clock. “Not now, silly, I have to get ready for work.”

You wrapped the sheet around you and got to your feet, leaving Eddie to stare into space, alone with his tortured thoughts. “Come over tonight?” He yelled while you were in the bathroom. “Wayne leaves for work at 6, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

“I’ll come over,” you said with your mouth around a toothbrush. You spat into the sink and then, “But I might be too tired for…other stuff,” your words were met with nothing but silence from the next room. “We can watch a movie or something?”

Eddie appeared sullen in the doorway next to you in his checkered blue and white boxers. “Do you not want to have sex with me anymore?”

“No, baby I do!” You assured him, eyebrows high on your forehead. You cupped some water into your mouth and spat it out while he ran his knuckle down your arm. “I really really want to, I just don’t want us to force this. It’s okay if I don’t have an orgasm every single time.”

“Yeah but it’s not okay with me,” he muttered.

You turned and planted kisses down his throat, dotting smooches along his collarbone, and then the final peck was on his pouty mouth. You rubbed the tip of your nose against his, “I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”

—------

You parked on the other side of Eddie's van at the trailer that night and assessed the windows curiously. At a glance, it looked like the living room had caught fire from the amount of candles that were lit. The song Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin poured out into the soft yellow light of the porch, and you knocked.

A few raps of your knuckles were met with a loud curse and something like a metal pot crashed to the floor in the kitchen. No one came to the door, so you entered with caution, and your senses were greeted with the smell of something burning in the oven.

Eddie was by the sink and he spun around with a startled look, wiping his hands down his jeans. He wore a Slayer shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and his feet were bare, letting you see the black toe nail polish you’d delicately painted on a few days earlier.

“What’s with all this?” You blinked a few times, marveling at how tidy it was. But also, there were at least 15 mismatched candles ablaze on the side table, the top of the tv, and the counter.

He wiped his mouth and went over to greet you. “I just wanted to set the mood,” he grinned, grabbing onto your hips to pull you close. “I read somewhere that the atmosphere can help with, you know.”

“You read somewhere?”

“Just one of those magazines at the grocery checkout.”

“I missed you,” he smiled against your mouth as you said it. His warm skin smelled spicy and sweet, like he’d recently showered and put on cologne. The yearning you felt for him was all-consuming. A few hours apart weighed on you like an eternity. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, and already your loins were giving you the nod like, “yep, we need to have him inside of us.” You absolutely craved him on a sexual level, so why was it so hard to find your climax? It seemed to come easy for everyone else in the world: everybody at the party was cumming but you.

Eddie was nervous. He hadn’t felt that out of his mind since the day he confessed he had feelings for you, but if you didn’t feel the same that would be cool, because he didn’t want to fuck up the friendship: you were too precious to him. Your presence in his life made him feel sane and loved and seen in a way he’d rarely experienced in his life, if ever. A miracle happened that day, and you’d flown into his arms, asking him what took him so long.

But what kind of boyfriend would he be if he couldn’t please you? In every way?

You watched a sitcom while you ate dinner on TV trays, and when you came back from using the restroom, he had everything put away, dishes thrown in the sink, and he was sitting very propper at the end of the couch, watching you expectantly.

“Are you, um,” he cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?”

This was weird, he thought. He was making it weird. He needed to loosen up and not be so hyper focused on his mission. Maybe you were tired, maybe you needed to let your spaghetti and burnt french bread settle.

You straddled his lap, brushing hair away so that you could kiss his forehead.

“I think I’m ready to try again,” you whispered, and then you ducked down to nibble his earlobe. “Unless you’d rather stay here and—”

Before you could finish the thought, he was up and the two of you were moving out of the room and down the hall, kissing and fumbling with clothes as you went.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he nipped your jaw and side of your neck, banging the bedroom door open with the side of his fist. “I hate being away from you.”

There were a few candles around the bed too; on his nightstand, and a red one dripped wax from the window sill down the wall.

You stopped abruptly, staring at the bed. “Are those…rose petals?”

“Tulips, actually,” he rushed to the scene and swiped the soft pink curls away with his arm. “That was stupid, I just thought it would be—”

You caught his mouth with yours, tongues lashing at each other in such an erotic way that a small moan escaped him.

He wondered if that night would be the night he came in his jeans.

He wasn’t going to let himself cum before you, that was the plan. He’d jerked off shortly before you’d arrived, but that didn’t mean shit because he was absolutely ready again.

Suck it up, Munson.

All was off but for your underwear and while Eddie licked greedily at one of your nipples, you reached down to undo his button fly. “Release the beast,” you cooed.

He caught your wrist. “Not just yet, I can’t, I mean, I want this to be about you.”

“I need an even playing field if I’m going to be relaxed enough to…you know.”

He couldn’t get his pants off fast enough at the urging of your hand that was quick to breach the waistband of his boxers to stroke him. He was rock hard and the tip was already weeping, needy for you.

“Is this all for me?” You ran your thumb in circles over the tip.

Eddie tensed and huffed out a breath that fanned the hair away from his face. “Fuck, baby, every inch.”

If he wasn’t sharp, he’d cum right there on the spot.

You bounced when your body hit the bed, and Eddie dropped to his knees between your legs. The visible wetness on your panties were taking a toll on his already fragile state. He wasn’t patient enough to take them off of you, he just put his mouth right on the material, nuzzling at your pussy through the fabric in a way that pulled a few sharp gasps out of you.

“I missed her so much,” he pulled back the final barrier with one finger, licking a few times on your swollen lips, and then cursed. “You’re so wet already.”

“Well, that’s what you do to me,” you propped up on your elbows to look down at him, sucking in your bottom lip at the sensation of his breath on you.

He slid your underwear off the rest of the way, trying to recall what he’d read in that Playboy article he read a while back? Something about writing out the alphabet, and the woman you are with won’t make it to “x” without cumming.

“How does this feel?” His tongue rolled along your folds in a way that made you wonder what he was doing. He lost track of the letters at around “M”, hips bucking into the side of the bed, cock pulsing so hard, he had to reach down and take some of the pressure off.

“G-good,” you gasped. “Just like that but then, up a bit higher.”

You weren’t exactly an expert when it came to your own pleasure, either, you only knew what felt good when you touched yourself. If Eddie made you cum, it would be the first time you ever experienced that with another person. You wondered if you should tell him that.

He followed your instructions, swallowing while he consumed you, until he found the tiny pearl treasure at the top and your grip tightened on him.

“Hmm I think I found it. Hey there pretty baby,” he murmured into your cunt rolling his tongue around the spot.

“Yesyesyes, right thereeeee Eddieeee.”

The pressure and the speed was perfect and your hand went to his head for encouragement, but then he slowed down and moved locations, licking up the arousal that dripped down your slit.

“Baby? Could you go back to that thing you were doing a second ago?”

He compiled without a word, trying to find the same pacing again, but the moment was gone.

“Eddie—” you spread your legs wider as an invitation. “I really need you inside of me now.”

Well, he wanted that more than anything. But one pump and it would be all over for his dignity. His eyes were rolling back, seeing cartoon stars just thinking about it.

Truth? He wasn’t going to make it.

You noticed his hesitation. “We can keep trying…after. But I need to feel you. It’s lonely up here.”

“You’re so beautiful it hurts,” he crawled up onto the bed, kissing along your stomach, up between your breasts as he went, and then nuzzled at your neck. “My dick can wait until—”

But he choked on his last words when you took hold of him and rubbed the tip of his length along your wetness.

“Sssshittt,” his whole body trembled.

Sliding himself in, becoming one with you, made him emotional in a way he’d be embarrassed to share with anyone else.

“I love you so much,” your voice came out as a cry when he sank halfway in, locking eyes with you. The stretch made you squeeze around him, eliciting a whimper from so far back in his throat that he wondered if it came from somewhere else, some far off place.

Once he started to move, he thought about that sweet little pearl and lifted up enough to put his thumb there and move it around. Your head went back and you exposed your throat to him.

Eddie grimaced at how close he was, fuck that—he had to slow down. The way he was touching you, it was making you stiffen like you had when he was on his knees, and he was taking note of everything.

But then you started telling him how bad you needed him to cum, to fill you up, to make you his. He tried to hold out but then his eyes locked onto yours when you told him you loved him again and he couldn’t stop the wave once it started, no matter how hard he clenched his jaw and his buttcheeks.

One long babble came out of him as his thrusts got sloppy. “Oh fuck I love you so much I’m cumming so hard, I’m…I’m…holy shit I love you.”

He didn’t ask if you had come that time, because he knew better.

After he caught his breath, he pulled you with him, twisting onto his side, slipping two fingers where his cock had been. “What if I push all of this cum back inside so it will stay there? Hmm?”

You moaned against his mouth, grabbing a fistful of his hair. “That feels good, keep doing that.”

“You like that?” He asked, just to be certain.

You nodded, and then, your hand slotted down between your bodies and his arousal spiked when he realized you were touching yourself.

He curled his fingers to feel that soft, spongy spot, asking how fast you wanted it.

You couldn’t speak, your concentration was intense, eyes screwed shut.

Oh sure, he was getting hard again. The feel of his warm spend in your tight hole was doing nothing for his resolve.

You clenched around him, and then he was whispering, “let me try again,” as he kept his digits buried and made his way down between your thighs.

His mouth had no trouble finding the treasure that time; it practically peeked up at him, begging for a resolution. He relaxed his shoulders, breathed in the musk of your arousal, and took you into his mouth with a vibrating groan.

“Right there!” You hadn’t meant to scream it, but it was an actual eureka moment. “Oh fuck Eddie, don’t stop…keep doing…keep doing that.”

He hadn’t moved his fingers in a while, but when he tried to incorporate that into the mix, you stopped him. “Keep them still,” you held his head, locking him in place—not that there was anywhere else he wanted to be. “Don’t move your hand just…Ahh yes yes…”

Your jaw went slack in a silent scream, but then his pace quickened, and before you knew what was happening, the blinding white wave crashed through you, rolling through your limbs like satin electricity, making you whine an extended, “cummingcummingcumming,” while you clung to his hair so you wouldn’t fall off the earth.

Eddie was astonished to learn that could feel it happening. The juicy walls around his fingers spasmed, fluttering like tight ripples, and he drove his tongue in eager circles, wondering if he could make you cum twice in one go. Was that even possible? His heart all but flew out of his chest, it was beating so fast, and he moaned long and hard.

But after a bit, you were trying to push his mouth away. “Wait wait, now it’s sensitive,” but he was so determined, he didn’t pull off until you physically lifted his head.

He stared up at you, licking his wet, swollen lips.

You were breathless, letting the final bits of glitter swim through your veins. “That was—”

He kissed your cunt one two three times. “That was what?”

He was grinning now, feeling like he’d just won the lottery, or at least a new car. The sense of satisfaction was officially unmatched.

He made his way up the bed to hold you, but you surprised him by taking his fingers into your mouth to suck them clean, dragging teeth along his flesh.

“I’ve never cum that way with anyone else before,” you said in a whisper, but when he finally registered the weight of the words, his eyes widened.

“My sweetheart,” he pulled you flush against him, giddy, holding your face to brush his lips over yours. “I’m really your first?”

You gave his shoulder a teasing love bite. “And my last.”

“Oh nowww you’re in trouble,” he rolled on top of you, interlacing his fingers with yours to brace your hands above your head, and then he went to work munching at the side of your throat, growling as he did so.

You screamed and giggled, realizing he was hard again as it nudged at your hip. “I see you’re ready for battle again.”

“I was born ready, baby,” he straightened to see your face. “You want to try a new position? I was reading this—”

The front door to the trailer burst open.

“What the hell? Edward? You tryin’ to burn the place down?”

It was Wayne.

Shit shit shit shit it was Wayne!

Home hours early from work, for whatever reason.

The door to the bedroom was wide open and his heavy footfalls were rapidly approaching from the hall.

Eddie threw the sheet up over you, and a few tulip petals fluttered to your face. “I’ll be right there!” He shouted, trying to jump into his jeans. He missed a leg hole and stumbled back onto the mattress, making you snort out a laugh.

He got to the door just in time to greet his Uncle, blocking any view of the room, buttoning his pants as he stood there.

You could hear Wayne’s voice change. “Is, ah, is your girlfriend here? Sorry, I didn’t see her car.”

“No that’s cool, we were just—” and then he maneuvered him out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

You lifted up to listen to their murmuring voices, and then Wayne asked, “why is there wax all over the carpet? Blow these fuckers out before the curtains catch fire.”

You had to bury your face in the pillow to muffle your laughter.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #Stranger Things fanfic #smut

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sunkissed-zegras · 5 months

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✮ 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 (𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬), trevor zegras

♡ ─ word count | 16.3k words (y'all asked for it!)

♡ ─ summary | trevor had always hated your guts. you never knew what for, maybe it was your close friendship with his best friend, or maybe it was because he was jealous of you. that was until, he kissed you, of course.

♡ ─ warnings | very much unedited (i don't got time for that🙅🏻‍♀️) enemies to fwb, alex being collateral LMAO, more plot than smut, unprotected sex (p in v), fingering (lots of it), so much fighting and arguing, usual enemies to lovers stuff, cursing and maybe some other things?? as always lmk if i missed anything

♡ ─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe

♡ ─ ev's notes | the long awaited trevor zegras fwb fic i've been teasing for the past 4 months, it's finally here. i finally got the motivation to finish and here we are, i hope it exceeds y'alls expectations!!! also if yall couldn't tell i didn't know what to title this but whatever, live laugh love! anyways, this isn't exactly 'canon' (my god... can't believe i just used that for a hockey fic im dead) because i know alex/trevor do not live together but for the sake of the fic, live with it. anyways, this is just brainrot for the part, but i hope you enjoy this incredibly self indulgent fic!!!!!!!! love you all mwah mwah mwah

also... requests are open for now if y'all wanna send in some ideas!!

The first moment that Trevor locked eyes with you, he knew he didn't like you.

You never understood why. You couldn't help but wonder what had caused such an immediate dislike. Was it something about your appearance, your demeanor, or just a gut feeling he couldn't shake? Whatever it was, it hung between you two like an invisible barrier, making the atmosphere uncomfortable whenever you two were in the room and it was even harder because you shared a best friend.

You walked into the familiar home of your close friend, Alex and tried to find him. You had left your airpods there a few nights ago and this was the only time you knew he'd be home.

Well, apparently you were wrong because he wasn't anywhere to be found even though his car was clearly in the driveway.

"Alex? Are you here?" You quietly called out, there was no response, so you ventured further into the house, your footsteps echoing in the silence.

Determined to find both your airpods and an explanation for the eerie quiet, you walked further into the house. Each step echoed through the hallway as you walked.

As you turned in the hallway, you let out a loud yelp when you bumped into someone. Someone who clearly wasn't Alex.

"Jesus!" You jumped in fright and calmed down for a second once you recognized the face. "Trevor? What are you doing here?”

Trevor's expression remained as annoyed as ever, though there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes as well. "I could ask you the same thing," Trevor replied, his voice cool and measured. His arms were crossed, and he leaned casually against the hallway wall, as if he had every right to be here.

You tried to stay calm even though his arrogance, as usual, was pissing you off. "I came to pick up my airpods because I left them here a few nights ago, and Alex said he'd be home today."

Trevor rolled his eyes in annoyance as he leaned off the wall and walked closer to you. "Well he isn't here, is he?"

You wanted to slap that stupid know-it-all expression right off his face as he walked past you. You turned around and scoffed, "And why are you here?"

He turned around and looked you directly in the eye. "I'm staying with Alex for a bit." He said simply as he examined your annoyed expression. "What? You have a problem with that, princess?" The nickname rolled off his tongue and you felt your body heat up with anger.

Trevor's use of the nickname "princess" sent a surge of anger coursing through you. You could feel your face flush, and your fists involuntarily clenched at your sides. He knew exactly which buttons to push, and it was infuriating.

"Don't call me that," you snapped, your voice tinged with irritation. "And yes, Trevor, I do have a problem with it. You've made it pretty clear you don't like me, and I sure as hell don't like you either. This is supposed to be Alex's place, and now I have to deal with you too? Just great."

Trevor's smirk seemed to grow wider, as if your anger was exactly what he wanted. "Well, princess," he taunted, emphasizing the nickname, "I don’t care about how you feel about me staying here so… I don’t know what to tell you.”

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the house, leaving Trevor and your airpods behind. Your heart was still pounding with anger as you made your way down the driveway.

──

"I don't know why he hates me, Alex." You complained through the phone as you got ready for a party. It was Friday night you wanted to get absolutely wrecked after the week you've had.

"He doesn't hate you, Y/N-"

He was cut off by a scoff as you put on your makeup. "Are you seriously trying to say that he likes me?"

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Alex let out a reluctant sigh. "Okay, maybe 'like' is a strong word, but I don't think he hates you either. He's just... Trevor, you know?"

You rolled your eyes at the mention of Trevor's name. "Yeah, 'just Trevor' is the problem. Every time we're in the same room, it's like he's actively looking for reasons to annoy me."

"That's just Trevor, though." Alex tried to reassure you but he was plain wrong. The Trevor that everyone else knew was funny and sweet, and what do you get? An absolute fucking asshole whose sole purpose to annoy the hell out of you.

Alex's attempt at reassurance didn't help at all, you couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know, Alex. It's just hard to believe it's just Trevor when he acts different when I'm not around, you know?"

You could hear the sympathy in Alex's voice as he responded, "I get it, Y/N. But maybe there's more to it than meets the eye. Sometimes people have their reasons for acting a certain way."

He sounded like a dad lecturing their kid as you let out another sigh. But you had to admit there was some truth to it, though.

"Look," Alex continued, "I'll talk to him, okay? Maybe he doesn't even realize how much he's getting under your skin. And besides, it's Friday night. Let's focus on having a good time at the party and worry about Trevor another day, alright?"

You couldn't help but smile at Alex's support. "Yeah, I guess you're right Alex. Fine, I won't think about him anymore but I'll see you at the party."

With renewed semi-determination to enjoy the evening, you said your goodbyes and finished getting ready for the party, hoping that this night out would provide the much-needed break you deserved.

──

The loud music of the party made your head buzz but it was exactly what you needed after the week you've had. The loud atmosphere, with people dancing and laughing, created a welcome distraction from your problems.

You grabbed a drink and joined your friends who were currently sitting outside, enjoying the warm summer weather. As you settled into a chair, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. The cool breeze and the sounds of laughter around you were a soothing contrast to the intensity of the party inside.

"You good, Y/N?" You heard your friend laugh next to you as a smile engulfed your face. The alcohol was already working as you let out a giggle and a nod.

And just as you finally got the buzz, it quickly faded as you heard his voice behind you.

"Yeah, you good, Y/N?" The mocking tone in the voice was unmistakable as you turned to see Trevor taking a seat across from you. Alex followed closely, sitting down next to Trevor.

"Hey, Y/N." Alex gave you a soft smile but his eyes were pleading with you to not start anything now.

"Yeah, I'm good," you replied, your voice carrying a tinge of annoyance. You then turned your attention to Alex, who offered a soft smile but communicated his silent plea for you to avoid riling Trevor up.

Trevor, seemingly unable to resist provoking you, leaned in closer. "So, Y/N, having a good time? Or is the buzz from all that alcohol making you forget how much you can't stand me?"

You clenched your jaw, your patience wearing thin. "Oh I haven't forgotten, trust me. Trevor, can't you just for once not be a complete dick?"

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the rise he was getting out of you. "Oh, come on, Y/N, where's your sense of humor? It's just a party."

That last line really made your anger flare up even more. The irritation in your voice apparent as you retorted, "You know, Trevor, you seem to have a real talent for ruining a good time."

Trevor smirked, seemingly unfazed by your comment. "Oh, really? I thought I was just making it more interesting."

Your friends were exchanging glances before Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sensing the growing tension. He tried to intervene, "Come on, guys, let's not—"

But you weren't in the mood to back down. "Interesting, huh? More like insufferable."

Trevor leaned in, his tone mocking. "Is that so? You don't have to stick around if you can't handle it, princess."

The nickname made your temper grow, as you shot back, "I can handle it just fine, and you can't tell me what to do, I'll stick around if I want, Trevor."

Trevor's smirk remained firmly in place as he replied, "Well, well, someone's got some fight in them tonight."

Alex, growing concerned about the direction of the conversation, spoke up again, his voice pleading, "Come on, guys, can we please just have a good time tonight? This isn't the place for this."

But your anger at Trevor's provocation was hard to contain, and you answered, "Maybe Trevor should learn to behave himself."

Trevor, not one to let a challenge go unanswered, leaned in closer and said, "Or maybe you should learn to take a joke, princess-"

The word "princess" coming from Trevor's lips felt like a taunt you couldn't let slide. "Don't call me that!"

Alex, sensing the situation escalating, pleaded once more, "Hey, Y/N let's go get some drinks and relax, okay?"

But Trevor wasn't backing down, his smirk darkening. "Oh, of course Alex would step in now. You gonna go get some drinks with your boyfriend, huh?"

His accusation left you stunned as you blinked back at him, but then it clicked in your mind. Trevor's animosity seemed to be fueled by jealousy, and you couldn't help but laugh in disbelief. Trevor's face twisted with annoyance at your reaction.

"Oh! I get it now," you exclaimed, a hint of amusement in your voice. "You're jealous of me!"

Trevor's annoyance only seemed to intensify, but he maintained his stubborn stance. "You wish, princess."

Your realization had struck a nerve, and you decided to tease him further. "You think I'm gonna steal Alex from you, isn't that right, Trevor?"

Trevor's face contorted with a mix of irritation and embarrassment as your words hit home. It seemed like you had touched a nerve that he hadn't expected.

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped, his tone laced with irritation. "I'm not jealous, and you're definitely not stealing Alex from anyone."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, thoroughly enjoying the fact that you had gotten under his skin for once. "Oh, come on, Trevor," you teased, leaning in a little closer to him. "You don't need to be jealous. There's enough of Alex to go around for both of us."

Trevor's irritation deepened, and he leaned in closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, how sweet of you, Y/N. You're absolutely right; I'm sure Alex is just thrilled to have both of us fighting for his attention."

Your teasing had clearly struck a nerve, and you couldn't resist pushing the envelope a bit further. "Well, you know what they say, Trevor, 'Two's company, three's a party.'"

Trevor's face turned a deeper shade of red, and his fists clenched involuntarily. He struggled to find a retort as he seethed with frustration. "I couldn't care less about your little friendship with Alex. You're not even on my radar."

Your playful smile didn't waver as you pressed on, pushing his buttons even further. "Oh, Trevor, it's cute how you're trying so hard to convince us of that. But we all know actions speak louder than words."

Alex, sensing that Trevor was on the brink of losing his temper, interjected urgently, "Guys, seriously, let's drop it."

But it was too late. Trevor had reached his breaking point. He slammed his hand on the table, making the glasses rattle, and his voice rose to a furious level.

"Is it impossible for you to shut the fuck up, Y/N? I've had enough of your mind games and your twisted need to be the center of attention," he seethed, his eyes burning with anger.

He got up from the couch and walked to face you, his eyes burning into yours. "I couldn't care less about your friendship with Alex or anything else about you. Just do us all a favor and stay the fuck out of my way."

As Trevor walked away, he made sure to deliver a sharp shoulder bump, leaving you standing there, feeling a mix of shock and anger. The tension between you and Trevor had reached a boiling point, and it was clear that this confrontation had taken a toll on your already strained relationship.

──

A few weeks had passed since the night at the party, and you and Trevor's interactions had become less confrontational, bordering on civil. One night, you found yourself alone in Alex's house. He had gone out for the night, leaving you and Trevor in an awkward, but not entirely unfamiliar, situation. You spend most if not all your time in his house, even if you did have your own. You just always liked his more than yours, even if Trevor had decided to start living there as well. The home was eerily quiet, except for the soft hum of the city outside.

Trevor had been in the living room, watching TV while you were in the kitchen, going through the contents of the fridge trying to find a snack. You had been trying to avoid him, but the small space between the kitchen and living room made it impossible to do so that long.

As you reached for a container of leftovers, Trevor's voice suddenly cut through the silence. "Y/N, can you pass me the remote?"

You sighed inwardly, feeling a wave of frustration wash over you. Suppressing your irritation, you handed him the remote and muttered, "Here."

But as Trevor took the remote from your hand, his fingers brushed against yours, sending a jolt of unexpected electricity through you. You both froze, locked in an moment of eye contact.

Trevor suddenly broke the eye contact and your face felt hot. You wanted to slap yourself, there was no way a two second hand-brush made you feel this way. What was wrong with you? Were you ovulating?

Trevor's voice broke the silence, low and intense. "You know, Y/N, you can be stupidly frustrating."

Your inner thoughts were interrupted by Trevor's comment, and his words only served to amplify the tension in the room. You could feel your heart pounding, and a mix of irritation and desire swirled within you.

You also couldn't get any words out and you felt even more stupid. Trevor noticed your silence and moved his gaze back to you, a smug expression etching his face. It was as if he had achieved a small victory, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to revel in it.

A sly grin tugged at the corner of his lips, and he leaned in slightly closer, his eyes dancing with a mix of amusement and desire. "Cat got your tongue, Y/N?" he teased, his voice dripping with cocky self-assurance.

Your cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, and you cursed yourself for letting him get the upper hand. Trevor had a weird ability to push your buttons, and in this moment, he had successfully left you flustered and at a loss for words.

You scoffed, finally getting out of the trance he somehow got you in. "N-no, I just couldn't think of... anything worth saying."

Trevor's cocky grin only widened at your stammered response. He leaned in even closer, his breath tickling your ear as he continued to revel in his perceived victory.

"Nothing worth saying, huh?" he replied, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Well, Y/N, maybe you'll come up with something better next time."

His words made you roll your eyes as you gritted your teeth, determined not to let Trevor's cocky attitude get the best of you. You felt yourself getting even angrier as you stared at Trevor but you couldn't come up with anything to say, he has the upperhand and he knew it. You wanted to slap yourself again, you were acting dumb.

The front door had opened suddenly and you let out a relieved sigh when you heard Alex's voice ring through the apartment. The sound of Alex's voice was like a lifeline, breaking the tension that had gripped the room between you and Trevor.

"Hey, guys, I brought WingStop... Did I interrupt something?" Alex looked slightly concerned as he looked at you two.

Relieved to have a reason to shift your focus, you gave Alex a grateful smile and replied, "You didn't interrupt anything important, just the usual Trevor bullshit."

Trevor, who had been reveling in his victory moments ago, now seemed to deflate slightly at the mention of his antics being dismissed as "bullshit." He decided to play it cool, though, adding, "Yeah, bullshit."

Alex seemed to buy the explanation, though there was a hint of skepticism in his expression. "Alright, if you say so," he replied, setting the bags of WingStop on the table. "Let's eat, I'm starving. Then maybe we can watch a movie or something."

You fixed your posture as Trevor walked up from the couch, a smirk still evident on his face as he walked to the table.

"Actually guys, I have stuff to do tomorrow morning." You grabbed your purse from the couch, you didn't wanna be around Trevor right now after what the hell happened earlier. You needed to sort out a lot of stuff in your mind.

"Like what?" Alex sat down in the table, immediately taking out the wings and beginning to eat. "Are you... okay?"

"Yup, just tired."

Trevor's smirk seemed to widen, and you could practically feel his satisfaction. It was clear that he had achieved some victory in the earlier situation, and now he had the upper hand.

Alex, who had been happily digging into the wings, looked up with a curious expression as you grabbed your purse. "Y/N, are you sure you're okay?"

You managed a small smile and a nod, though you couldn't meet his eyes. "Yeah, just got some things to take care of. You guys enjoy the wings and the movie. I'll see you guys whenever."

With that, you hurried out of Alex's apartment, leaving behind the now weird tension between you and Trevor. As you made your way down the hallway, you couldn't help but replay the intense moment with Trevor in your mind, the mix of attraction and irritation still simmering within you.

"What'd you do, Z?" Alex gave him a glare before Trevor raised his arms up in defense.

"Nothing, I swear," he insisted, though his tone was tinged with amusement. "This time, it was all her."

Alex's glare deepened, clearly not entirely convinced by Trevor's explanation. He was well aware of the dynamics between you and Trevor and knew that things could easily escalate between the two of you.

"What do you mean, 'it was all her'?" Alex prodded further, determined to get to the bottom of the situation.

Trevor leaned back in his chair, his expression growing more relaxed. "Well, let's just say she couldn't handle a little teasing, and things got... interesting."

Alex's skepticism was replaced with a amused expression, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "What the hell do you mean, interesting? You and your teasing, Trevor. You're like a walking powder keg."

Trevor grinned, seemingly pleased with Alex's reaction. "What can I say? It keeps life entertaining for us.”

──

A few days had passed since the weird encounter between you and Trevor at Alex's apartment. The memory of that night still lingered in your mind, and you couldn't help but feel hot when you thought about it. The tension between you and Trevor remained unresolved.

One evening, Alex decided to host a small party with a few friends at his house. It was meant to be a relaxed evening of drinks and conversation, a chance to unwind and catch up. As you arrived at Alex's house, you were greeted by familiar faces and warm smiles.

You got up from your spot on the couch and entered the kitchen to get a drink. Thankfully, Trevor was still at practice so you hadn't ran into him yet. As you reached for the beer that inside the fridge, you heard Alex's voice from behind you.

"You sure you wanna be drinking tonight? You have a ride?" Alex's concerned voice made you smile and you got the beer while closing the fridge.

"Yeah, why not? I could always Uber if all of you guys are going to be drinking." Truth be told, this week wasn't exactly your week. After that whole encounter with Trevor, it had all just went downhill. You needed this, you needed a night where you could just forget about everything. And Alex's get-together did exactly that.

Alex eyed you suspiciously. "What happened with Trevor Monday night?"

You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Nothing, promise."

"Did you guys kiss or something-"

"No!" You said, almost a little too loudly. A smirk grew on Alex's mouth as you repeated a little quieter, "No, what makes you say that?"

"I don't know, there was just a different kinda tension when I came into the apartment then." He smirked at you as you rolled your eyes, despite the warm blush coming onto your cheeks.

"Shut up,"

Before Alex could continue, Trevor entered the kitchen, his exhaustion evident in his posture. You hadn't even realized he was back home; his arrival had been drowned out by the sounds in the apartment.

He walked right up to and cleared his throat. "Excuse me, you're blocking the fridge."

You bit your tongue at his lack of manners and moved away, Trevor opening the fridge as he grabbed a water. Alex gestured to the living room and you nodded, deciding to leave the kitchen to go hang out with the rest of your friends.

As Trevor walked out to the group a few minutes after you two, you could sense his irritation with the number of people in the apartment. He muttered something to Alex about the crowded space, and you couldn't help but overhear. Trevor's annoyance was evident in his voice as he complained, "There are way too many people here, man. It's like a sardine can."

"Well I told you I was gonna be havin' a few people here tonight, Z." Alex responded calmly but irritation was clear in his face.

"This is way more than a just a few people, dude. How am I supposed to relax after the shittiest practice with a bunch of people here?"

Alex looked annoyed and he just ignored Trevor, looking back at you. But you decided to speak up, not willing to let Trevor's negativity ruin the night. "Trevor, this is Alex's place, and he's doing you a favor by letting you stay here. You can't expect him to control who comes over. It's not just your apartment."

Trevor's irritation flared as he turned to you, his voice laced with frustration. "Oh, of course, the princess coming to Alex's defense. Always looking out for Alex, aren't you?"

“I'm just trying to keep the peace, Trevor. It's not about taking sides. We're all here to have a good time and you're kind of ruining it."

Trevor was glaring daggers at you, his gaze filled animosity as he looked between you and Alex.

The tension in the room was palpable, and your friends were growing increasingly uncomfortable with the heated exchange. Alex tried to intervene, saying, "Okay, let's not ruin the night with this. Trevor, relax. Y/N, thanks for looking out for me, but it's all good."

But Trevor's anger hadn't simmered down. Instead, he seemed to become more agitated, muttering something under his breath that you couldn't quite catch as he huffed and walked off to his room.

With Trevor's mood affecting the atmosphere of the party, you felt the need to step outside for some fresh air. You just couldn't comprehend Trevor. One moment, he was finally okay with you then he wanted to be an absolute dick. It always bothered you, why did he have to be such an asshole?

You were soon joined by Alex, who had sensed your discomfort and followed you outside. Alex leaned against the poll, gazing out into the night, and you stood beside him. He sighed, and you could tell he was trying to defuse this whole situation.

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice filled with concern. "Trevor's just been having a rough time lately. Practice has been pretty shitty, and it's taking a toll on him. I know he can be a pain, but he's going through a lot right now. I mean, he's worked all his life for hockey and sometimes it just doesn't give the same energy back, you know?"

As you listened to Alex as he opened up about Trevor's struggles with his hockey career, you were suddenly hit with guilty about blowing up on him. The weight of your argument with Trevor and the realization of the pressures he was under made you feel bad for earlier. Alex's words had painted a different picture of Trevor's situation, one that you hadn't fully grasped. You knew that being a pro-hockey player was demanding, and setbacks could be demoralizing.

"I didn't realize he was going through all of this," you admitted, a sense of regret in your voice. "I feel bad for being a bitch now. I should've been more understanding." You sighed. You may hate Trevor but you never wanted to add his stress, knowing how hard it is when something you put so much energy in, doesn't feel so rewarding in the end.

Alex gave you a reassuring pat on the back. "Hey, don't blame yourself, Y/N. He was being an ass first and uh... thank you for defending me. I appreciate it."

You smiled at Alex's words, appreciating his understanding and grateful that he didn't hold your heated defense against Trevor against you. As you looked at him, those words felt like they had a deeper meaning than he was letting on. "Thanks, Alex. You're a true friend, ya know that?”

As you and Alex walked back to the living room, you noticed that some of the people were already in the process of saying their goodbyes and putting on their jackets. It seemed that the argument between you, Trevor, and the general tension in the room had prompted an early night for some of your friends.

"We're gonna call it a night, guys." Your friend smiled politely. "Trevor should get some sleep."

Before you could protest, Alex gave them a quick goodbye. "Yeah, they're right. He needs time to relax."

With that, they made their way to the door, leaving you, Alex, and Trevor in the home. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, and the tension from earlier still lingered. It was clear that the night hadn't gone as planned, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.

You felt guilty about the entire thing, and the weight of your words hung heavy in your mind, replaying that moment. If only you had kept your mouth shut, none of this would have happened. The ongoing tension between you and Trevor had been a rollercoaster of emotions, and sometimes, you wished you wouldn't be so impulsive.

You couldn't help but wonder if you were too quick to react, too willing to engage in these heated exchanges with Trevor. The realization that your words might have pushed him away further gnawed at your thoughts.

You were torn between wanting to apologize and your ego. Nevertheless, as you stood in the living room, your conscience pushed you to take responsibility for your actions.

You glanced at Alex, who was busy cleaning up the remnants of the party. He seemed to be trying to maintain a positive attitude (per usual) despite the earlier disagreement. It was then that you decided you needed to make amends.

Quietly, you excused yourself from the living room and headed down the hallway to Trevor's bedroom. You felt determined as you knocked softly on the door, waiting for his response.

"Alex?" You heard Trevor's voice from behind the door. "It's fine dude, I forgive you. But ya owe me a beer next time we go out."

"Trevor? It's actually me."

There was silence for a couple seconds before you heard the bedroom unlock; and there he was, with all his glory. He was shirtless, his hair was wet and it was obvious he had just come out of the shower. The only thing he had were those slutty sweatpants, god damnit.

You couldn't help but stare a little longer at his body before finally maintaining your composure. You couldn't deny, he looked good shirtless. You squeezed your thighs together as you maintained eye-contact with him, trying to keep your composure.

"What?" Trevor's voice sounded annoyed, per usual.

You found yourself lost in a trance again, your words momentarily escaping you as you tried to gather your thoughts and confront his anger. What was up with you and not knowing how to deal with hot men?

With Trevor's anger emanating off him in waves, you forced yourself to snap out of your momentary daze. "I'm sorry," you began, your voice quiet but sincere. "I didn't mean for things to get involved like that. I know practice has been rough for you, and I shouldn't have added to your stress. It's just... I hate seeing you so worked up."

Trevor's expression remained stony, and his arms were crossed, a clear sign of his lingering irritation. "Well, you certainly didn't help."

You sighed, knowing you had to take responsibility for your part in the argument. "You're right, I shouldn't have let things escalate. But you have to understand, I was just trying to help Alex."

The anger in Trevor's eyes didn't dissipate, but there was a hint of maybe something else. "Help him with what?" He scoffed as he walked into his room, sighing angrily as you followed, your patience running out.

With a deep breath, you decided be honest with Trevor. "He told me about your struggles at practice. About how it's been hard on you. I didn't mean to throw fuel in the fire but I was just worried about both of you. I may not... like you but I don't wanna push you while you're down, y'know?"

Trevor's jaw tightened, his annoyance evident. "So, you're just meddling in my business now? Trying to be the savior?"

That was his response? Now you really wished you had gone with your ego. Your frustration flared, and you shot back, "I'm not trying to be anyone's savior. I just wanted to help, I hate seeing you two fight, and I wanted to defuse the situation. I thought I was doing the right thing."

Trevor ran a hand through his wet hair, seemingly torn between anger and something else. "Well, you didn't, Y/N. You made things worse."

In response to Trevor's accusation, your own anger flared up. "I'm trying to help, Trevor. I don't need you to be a dick about it."

Trevor's voice seethed with frustration as he fired back, "Maybe you shouldn't, Y/N! I didn't ask for your help, and I sure as fuck don't need it. You're always butting in where you don't belong."

Your anger flared, and you shot back with equal intensity, "Oh, I'm 'butting in'? You're so damn proud, Trevor, you can't accept help from anyone! You act like you're above everyone, like you're untouchable."

Trevor's eyes blazed with fury as he retorted, "You think you're so perfect, always trying to fix everything. Well, you can't fix everyone, Y/N."

"I wasn't trying to fucking fix you, Trevor, who do you think I am?!" You shouted back, anger evident in your voice and expression. You couldn't even comprehend his point of view.

Trevor's eyes blazed with anger as he took a step closer, close enough you could feel his warm and minty breath on your forehead as you looked up at him. "You think you know everything, don't you? Always playing the peacemaker, always trying to fix everything. Well, guess what, Y/N? Some things can't be fixed."

The room felt like it was on the brink of a hurricane, the air charged with anger and resentment. Trevor's chest heaved with frustration, his intense gaze locked onto yours. In a low and seething voice, he muttered, "This is pointless."

You clenched your jaw, mirroring his anger as you responded, "Fine, it is."

You both stared at each other, breathlessly. It almost felt intimidate as you gazed into each other's eyes and you could see Trevor's expression relax.

"Why are you always defending Alex?" His voice was still angry but it sounded slightly hurt, underlying... jealousy? You were confused, what did he mean by that?

Your anger had subsided, and you met Trevor's question with genuine confusion, your voice softer than before. "What do you mean, defending Alex?"

Trevor scoffed, his usual snarky self was back on. "You're like his damn lawyer or something, you always have his back. It's fucking exhausting, he's my best friend."

You understood this whole issue now. "I know he's your best friend. I get that, okay? I'm not trying to steal him from you, he's your best friend and I get that-"

"It's not about that!" He raised his voice, frustrated. He sighed as he shook his face, staring back you. You were confused as you stared back at him. As his gaze suddenly softened, it clicked.

He wasn't jealous of you, he was jealous of Alex. It seemed to have clicked in Trevor's head too, his deep blue eyes gazing deeply into yours. And before you knew it, his lips clashed into yours. You kissed him back, moaning into the roughness of the kiss.

He didn't give you any time to adjust to any of it, he hand laced around your neck, pulling you closer to his mouth. His tongue quickly invaded your mouth, exploring everything.

He broke the kiss for a second, looking into your eyes for confirmation. "Y/N?"

You couldn't even form any words, that kiss, even though it had lasted mere seconds felt like a breath of fresh air. You couldn't even form words anymore, your brain had become mush. God damnit, the fucking spell this man had you under.

A smirk stretched Trevor's face as he stared into your lustful eyes, he couldn't help it. He pulled you into another quick kiss before pushing you down on to the bed and quickly followed on top of you, as the bed squeaked under you and Trevor's weight. His hand rose from your neck to your face, gripping it harshly as he squeezed.

"You run your mouth all day long and now you can't say a single word." The smirk was still evident on his face, he looked proud as he stared down at you. "And all I had to do was kiss you stupid, huh?"

"Trevor," you whimpered out. You couldn't even think straight but you did feel stupid, how could one kiss make you feel this way?

"What?" He sounded annoyed but you could tell he was enjoying having control over you. "What do you need, princess?"

You hadn't heard that irritating nickname in a while and usually, you would get mad. But this time, the nickname went right down to your pussy. You let out a soft moan at that, as he squeezed your face again.

"Thought you hated that, princess? Hmm? You like it now?" Trevor moved closer to you, planting a sloppy kiss on your mouth. His hand moved back to your neck, holding you in place. "I asked you a question, can you answer it for me or did I already break you?" His smirk grew at the last statement, the idea of breaking you made his cock grow a little harder.

You felt it, too. Right on your stomach too, which made you squirm under his weight. "Trevor, please."

"Trevor, please. What?" He mocked you, making you sigh exasperatingly. He rocked his hips against your stomach unexpectedly, making you let out a shocked moan.

"Fuck, Trevor."

"You need me to fuck you, huh?"

That was definitely not what you meant, but you'll take it. "Yes, please. I need you, please."

"Hm, so polite. You really are a princess huh, pretty girl?" He brought his other hand to move your hair out of your face, so he could so you better. He cupped your cheek next, grabbing your face before kissing you again.

Trevor got off of you, lying next to you. You were confused and were about to protest until he placed his hand right on your stomach, making you go still. He then sat up, pulling your shorts right off, your underwear next.

You felt self-conscious until you saw Trevor's face. You could tell now, Trevor was the one in the trance, he looked like he was in awe. He then moved his hands to your shirt, discarding it along with your pants.

He placed his hand right on top of your stomach and you felt yourself get even hotter from his touch. He moved his hand lower and cupped your bare cunt, you let out a breath. Trevor looked focused as he started moving his hand against your cunt, making you whimper.

He moved his hand then inserted a finger, making you shiver. You were surprised at the sudden pressure and let out a small gasp. Trevor smirked from next to you, as he began to thrust his finger in and out of you.

You couldn't let out any words, only pathetic sounds. The thought of Alex being in the next room was quickly disregarded as Trevor began to quicken his speed, making your whole body feel like it's been lit on fire.

Your back arched at the new feeling, your head suddenly felt like you were on a roller coaster, you were dizzy on his single finger. The tight sensation began to form in your stomach and you were breathing heavily, losing yourself in the feeling. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Right as you were about to cum, his finger left your wet cunt. You let out a cry of displease as you looked up at Trevor, a smirk evident on his face. "I want you to cum on my cock, understand princess?"

You let out a whimper of agreement. You weren't thinking straight at the moment, all you could think of is finally cumming and cumming on Trevor's dick.

Before you knew it, Trevor was on top of you. He took out his hard cock out of his pants, his expression changing to one of desperation and lust. His eyebrows were knitted in concentration, as he gave his cock a few pumps. His cock was already leaking of pre-cum as he slowly inserted himself in you.

Now, this was a new sensation. You couldn't help but arch at the feeling. If you thought you couldn't get any more drunk on Trevor, you were completely fucking wrong. His dick felt unreal, even if he was only a quarter inside of you. You moved your hand to grip his arm, trying to settle yourself.

He bottomed you out as quick as he could, you felt filled to the brim in the best way. The sensation burned as he stretched you out, it had been a while since you'd been intimate with anyone. It felt so good, your mouth hung open as Trevor put his hands on your hips.

"Fuck, baby you feel so good." He groaned in your ear as you let out a small string of whimpers. Trevor felt light-headed from how good you felt; so warm, so tight, so wet, your pussy was made for him.

He began rocking his hips against yours, thrusting in and out of you. You began moaning, not being able to hold it back. Trevor's hand immediately clasped your mouth to shut up, "Shh, princess. Gotta be quiet."

Trevor was having a problem staying quiet too, desperate sounds leaving his moans as he kept thrusting into and out of your core. He moved one of his hand up to grip your throat. The added sensation made a knot form in your sensation, you were close.

You started bucking your hips to meet his own, causing a new rhythm. You gripped the sheets as you felt yourself come closer to the climax. "Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum." You rambled in Trevor's ear, whimpering.

"Fuck me too baby, hold on." He choked out. Your pussy sucked him in so well, making it harder for him to even breath. His thoughts were consumed completely of how good he was feeling right now. "Let's cum together, kay?"

All you could do was nod as you couldn't even comprehend anything that was happening expect the fact you needed to cum, that knot was so closing to snapping. You felt your heartbeat race as the bed creaked underneath you two.

The knot was so thin, so close. And it snapped almost immediately as Trevor started rubbing your clit along with his harsh thrusts. "Fuck!" You cried out. You let out a breath of utter bliss as Trevor soon came undone inside of you.

As Trevor came, he immediately came down from the high and he realized exactly what had happened. He had just fucked the girl he swore up and down he would never ever like. And the worst part was he wasn't even mad about it.

──

"Y/N?" Alex repeats as you finally zone back again. You were at a brunch with Alex after a few days without seeing him. Which also meant it had been a few days since you had seen Trevor, giving you a lot of clarity about exactly what had happened.

"Yep, yep. I'm listening, sorry. I have a caffeine headache." You replied softly as you looked down at your plate, taking a bite of your food.

Alex wasn't convinced though as he looked at you, clearly trying to read you. He knew something was up with you ever since the party but he couldn't piece it together, thankfully. He still doesn't know that you and Trevor hooked up that night.

"What's been up with you?" He asked, concern etched across his face as he probed for answers.

"Sorry, it's just been a long week," you reply, attempting to divert his attention. You take a sip of your coffee, hoping the caffeine would kick in and help you shake off the residual effects of the headache.

Alex leans back in his chair, eyeing you with concern. "You sure that's all it is? You've been kind of... distant for past couple days."

"Yeah, just school and work stuff, you know?" you reply vaguely, avoiding eye contact.

He narrows his eyes, clearly not buying your explanation. "Come on, Y/N, we've been friends for how long? I can tell when something's bothering you. Talk to me, please."

You let out a sigh, realizing that Alex's persistence might not be easy to deflect. "Okay, fine. It's just... things have been a bit hectic lately. School and work have been piling up, you know?" Another lie. But you couldn't risk Alex finding out anything, you were scared of his reaction. It had already changed the entire dynamic between you and Trevor, you surely didn't want it to change yours and Alex's.

Alex's expression softens as he bought your white lie, and he nods understandingly. "Yeah, life can be a lot sometimes. But you know you can always talk to me, right?"

"I appreciate that. It's just been a bit overwhelming, and I'm trying to find the balance," you explain, maintaining the facade. The weight of keeping the truth hidden gnaws at you, but the fear of how Alex might react keeps you from opening up.

He leans back, a supportive look in his eyes. "I get it. Just don't forget to take care of yourself, okay? You don't have to carry everything on your own. I'm here to help, too."

"Thanks, Alex. You means a lot to me," you say, grateful for the understanding tone in his voice. You hated the fact that because you let your stupid hormones get in way, now you had to lie to your best friend.

──

The booming music echoed through the crowded room, the beat of the music creating a chaotic sound of laughter and chatter. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol. You found yourself in the middle of it all, a red cup in hand and the bright lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors over everyone as Future plays through the speakers.

As the night progressed, the effects of the one too many vodka RedBulls took their toll, and you realized that getting home on your own might be more challenging than expected. With a blurry sense of responsibility, you fumble for your phone and manage to dial Alex's number: your favorite sober friend.

"Hey, Alex," you slur into the phone, trying your best to sound coherent.

"Y/N? Is everything okay?" Alex's voice, though concerned, held a hint of weariness.

"Yeah, I'm just... shitfaced right now. Can you pick me up?" You request, your words entirely slurred. Your head was aching and all wanted to do was sleep.

There's a pause on the other end. "I wish I could, Y/N, but I've got some work I need to finish tonight. I'm really sorry."

You pout, the disappointment evident in your voice. "It's fine I can call an uber. I just-"

"Wait, Trevor's here. He said he could come pick you up."

"What?" You thought out loud. Trevor hadn't spoken to you in more than two weeks and now all of a sudden he wants to come and save the day?

"No 'whats' Y/N." Alex sounded exhausted. "It's 2 am, I'm not letting you get into an uber drunk and alone. Trevor's coming right now, just hold on."

With that, you hang up and awkwardly attempt to wait for Trevor. The minutes feel like hours as you sway slightly to the music, the room spinning around you. You were getting tired as you sipped on your water as an attempt to sober up. You felt a hand grab your waist and you jumped but relaxed at the sight of Trevor behind you.

Exhaustion was clear on his face but he still somehow looked good. You didn't know if it was the alcohol or what, but he looked amazing under the colorful lights. He steadied your shaky and drunk body as he looked down at you, concern on his face.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks, his expression shifting from concern to genuine worry.

"Yeah just a little... drunk." You slurred as you manage a half-smile, appreciating his presence despite the haze of alcohol clouding your senses.

"Yeah, I can see that." He returned your smile as you unintentionally stared at his face, his blue eyes boring into yours. "Let's get you home, okay princess?"

The nickname didn't sound so bad drunk or horny as you blinked up at him. Together, you navigate through the crowd, Trevor's hand securely on your waist, a sense of comfort and stability in the swirling chaos of the party.

The journey outside is a welcome relief from the overwhelming noise. The cool night air hits you, and you take a deep breath, feeling a bit more alert. Trevor leads you to his car, and as you settle in, you can't help but feel a mix of gratitude for him. You look at the time, it was almost 4 in the morning and he came all the way here to get you. It wasn't even at the request of Alex, he offered.

"Thanks for coming," you mumble, your words slightly slurred.

Trevor gives you a small, understanding smile. "No problem. Just wanted to make sure you got home safely."

As Trevor drives through the quiet streets, the gentle hum of the car and the motion lulls you into a drowsy state. The exhaustion from the party catches up with you, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, your eyelids become heavier with every passing moment.

Trevor glances over and notices your head nodding, your eyes struggling to stay open. Concerned, he reaches over to gently shake your shoulder. "Hey, Y/N, you okay?"

You mumble a sleepy affirmation, your voice barely audible. The comfort of the car, with the rhythmic sounds of the night, becomes too hard to resist. Slowly, your eyes flutter closed, and you find yourself succumbing to sleep.

Trevor glances over again, a soft smile playing on his lips as he realizes you've fell asleep. He adjusts his driving, making sure to navigate the roads carefully while allowing you to rest. The ride continues in a peaceful silence, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the car.

By the time Trevor arrives at your house, you're in a deep sleep, completely unaware of the ride's end. Trevor parks the car carefully, making sure to have a smooth stop. He looks over at you, the soft glow of the streetlights illuminating your peaceful expression.

Trevor decides to let you sleep. He turns off the engine and steps out of the car, gently closing the door. Moving around to your side, he opens the door with a quiet creak, trying not to disturb your rest.

With great care, Trevor scoops you up in his arms, cradling you like precious cargo. The night air is cool as he carries you towards your front door. His steps are measured, ensuring each footfall is soft, not wanting to wake you from the peaceful sleep you've fallen into.

As Trevor reaches your door, he fumbles to find your keys and unlock it. The quietness of the night envelops the scene as he carries you inside, careful not to make a sound. He navigates through the somewhat familiar space of your home, finding your room and carefully putting you down the on the soft cushion of your bed.

He took off your shoes and socks, as well as your coat. He got a blanket and covered you with it carefully. Trevor then went to the kitchen grabbing a bottle of water and finding the asprin, putting them on your bedside table.

After, Trevor stands there for a moment, watching you sleep, the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains. With a final look, he quietly leaves the room, leaving you to continue your sleep undisturbed.

The next morning feels like waking up from a million year sleep (and not in a good way). As consciousness seeps back in, you're met with a disorienting fog, a heavy ache in your head and the lingering taste of regret. The sunlight beams through the curtains feels more intrusive than comforting, casting a harsh light on the hazy remnants of the previous night.

This happened every time you go out and drink, your hangovers are always the worst no matter how many tricks you try. You sit up, your head pounding as the memories of last night resurface. The room spins for a moment before settling into a dull ache. Glancing around, you piece together the familiar surroundings of your room, but the events of the night before remain elusive, obscured by a mental fog.

You turn your head to the bedside table and see what Trevor had left. Then everything started to piece together. The phone call, the drive home and now... he left you asprin and a bottle of water?

As you slowly sip the water and take the asprin, the disorienting fog begins to lift. The sunlight, though still unwelcome, now holds a softer glow, and the room feels less oppressive. You can't help but wonder about Trevor's motives and the reason of his actions. Is it mere kindness, or does it mean something more?

You shake your head and sigh. It's too early to be contemplating what any of it means, you're too hungover to even care. All you know is that you appreciate him for what he did last night, even if he had ghosted you for two weeks.

──

"Yeah and then she left the date right after I told her that, and she never texted me back." Alex chuckled as he leaned back more into the couch, getting more comfortable.

You and Alex laugh as he recounts a date, the casual banter lightening the mood in the room. The atmosphere feels familiar and relaxed, and you're both enjoying the comfort of the couch.

"That's rough. The classic 'reveal too much too soon' thing," you joke, a playful smile on your face. It was good to finally relax back at Alex's place without any of the Trevor shit making you uncomfortable. You were in the clear for now, you and Trevor still haven't talked about what happened a few weeks prior and it sounded like neither did Trevor and Alex.

Alex nods, taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah, pretty much. I guess I scared her off with my deep thoughts. Lesson learned, I suppose."

"Deep thoughts?" You laughed as you shook your head. "Okay Mr. Philosopher."

"That's right, Y/N. I'm not just a pretty face; I've got layers," Alex teases, giving you a mock-serious look. You let out another booming laugh, leaning back into the couch.

The door opens unexpectedly and you both look to see Trevor walking in with his gym gear. He looks tired and his eyes widen in surprise as he makes direct eye contact with you. He immediately looks away and sighs.

"Hey," Trevor greets, his voice carrying a mixture of weariness and slight annoyance.

"Hey, Trev." Alex responds, a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. The living room now feels awkward, the unspoken tension palpable.

Trevor moves further into the room, avoiding eye contact with you. "Am I interrupting something?"

Alex glances at you, and there's a moment of hesitation before he responds, "Nah, just catching up. You're not interrupting."

Trevor nods slowly, still avoiding direct eye contact with you. The weight of the unspoken tension hangs in the air, and the room now feels awkward and strained. As Trevor heads to another part of the apartment, you exchange a look with Alex, both unsure of how to navigate the unexpected encounter.

"That was awkward." Alex was the first to speak up, a little amusement in his voice. "Everything okay with you two?"

You tried your best not to show how uncomfortable that question made you feel. You had to lie to your best friend again. "Yeah, why'd you ask that?"

"I don't know, Trevor's usually more excited to be home and you guys were making pretty intense eye contact." Alex explained as he shrugged, leaning more back into the chair.

You manage a nonchalant smile, doing your best to downplay the significance of the encounter. "Probably just tired from the practice and the gym. And maybe he's hungry."

"You're right. He does get hangry." Alex muses as you let out a little chuckle. You hear the bathroom door open and there he was, an somewhat angrier expression on his face.

He sat down on the loveseat and sighs as you and Alex exchange looks. "Hey dude, you hungry?"

"Yeah." Trevor responds with a nod. "You and Y/N planning on going out to eat?" His voice carries a hint of... jealousy?

Alex rolls his eyes and sighs. "No, not just me and Y/N, I was thinking about goin' and getting something for all of us to eat."

As you sat in the middle of this situation, you felt like you were intruding. This felt a little more personal than they were both leading on.

Trevor's skeptical gaze shifts between Alex and you, and for a moment, the tension thickens. The air becomes charged with more tension, and you feel like an unwilling spectator caught in the middle of their now, weird dynamic.

Finally, Trevor breaks the silence, "Alright, fine. Whatever you're getting, make it quick. I'm starving."

As Alex heads towards the door, you and Trevor are left in an awkward silence. The weight of the unspoken tension looms, and it's clear that something beneath the surface is affecting the atmosphere.

"So..." you begin, attempting to break the awkwardness.

Trevor cuts you off with a curt nod. "Look, we need to talk about what happened."

You scoffed in annoyance. You have been trying to get in contact with him after this whole weird incident but you kept getting left on read and now he wants to act like he's the bigger person? You're not gonna let him get away with that. "Yeah, we do. Let's talk about it."

"Fine, let's talk," Trevor concedes, his eyes meeting yours with frustration.

You decide to break the ice, "Look, Trevor, I tried reaching out to you. Multiple times. You left me on read every single time."

Trevor crosses his arms defensively, his gaze avoiding yours. "I needed time to think, alright? It's not that easy."

"You could've at least told me that. Ignoring me just added more confusion to the mix," you retort, your frustration bubbling to the surface.

He rolls his eyes, dismissive, "We hooked up, Y/N. That kinda thing complicates things and I needed space to figure it out."

You shake your head, unimpressed by his justification. "Space doesn't mean ignoring someone. And, for the record, you played just as big a part in 'complicating things' as I did."

Trevor looks at you, his irritation evident in his features. His ears were turning a bright red as his eyes became solely focused on you. "I don't want to rehash this right now," he sighed. "Let's just move on and forget about it."

You're not willing to let him sweep everything under the rug so easily. Your heart raced in anger as Trevor tried to downplay this entire thing. It was pretty clear to you that this whole thing meant way more to you than him. "You don't get to decide that, Trevor. We both need to address what happened."

He huffs, clearly growing angry. "What's there to address? We hooked up, things got weird, and now we're here. End of story."

Your jaw slightly fell open, you couldn't believe he just said that. Your frustration intensifies, and you're not about to let him off the hook. "You can't just pretend like it didn't mean anything. We were somewhat friends, and now it feels like you're trying to erase that. And don't get me started on what would happen with us and Alex."

Trevor's eyes narrow at the mention of Alex. "He doesn't have anything to do with our business and if he gets mad at us for just doing that, so be it. We're adults who can make our decisions without him being angry about it."

Your frustration only grows as Trevor dismisses the impact of your actions on Alex. "We're all friends, Trevor. It's not just about us; it's about the dynamic between all three of us. You can't just sweep it under the rug and expect everything to go back to normal."

Trevor's expression tightens, and his frustration is palpable. "This is between you and me. Bringing Alex into it just complicates things for no fucking reason."

You cross your arms, unyielding. "He's part of our lives, Trevor!"

Trevor runs a hand through his hair, visibly agitated. "You act like I'm hiding something from him. We're not together, and we both know it was a mistake. So, what's there to explain?"

But you're not ready to move on. There's a lingering tension, a connection that can't be easily severed. "We can't just brush this under the rug, Trevor. Ignoring it won't make it disappear. We need to talk about it and figure out where we stand."

Trevor's expression hardens, and you can see the walls he's putting up. "I'm not gonna dissect our one-night stand and it's every little detail, Y/N. If you're looking for closure or whatever, find it elsewhere."

The blunt dismissal stings, and you find yourself growing more frustrated with every passing moment. "You can't just shut me out, Trevor. We are both friends with Alex, and we owe it to him to face the consequences of our actions."

Trevor's face contorted with anger, and he snaps back, "You act like I owe you or Alex something, Newsflash: I don't. We hooked up. Get over it."

"Okay fine. It's not like it was anything I hadn't felt before, your skills are mediocre at best." The comment slips out, and Trevor's face contorts in anger. You knew it was petty to bring the sex into it but it was worth his expression. He looked shocked as he was surprised.

He got up from the loveseat and grabbed your face. "Oh really? It didn't sound like that when we were fucking, Y/N. You were screaming so loud I'm surprised that the neighbors didn't say anything."

You knew you struck a nerve then and there and couldn't help but smirk. You held his eye contact for a few seconds before spitting out another petty remark, "Maybe I'm just a really good actress."

Trevor's grip on your face tightens as he leans in closer, his eyes narrowing. The air between you two crackles with intensity, a strange mixture of anger and something else. "Wanna test that, princess? Let's try again and see who's right." Before you can fully register what's happening, his lips crash onto yours in a fierce, heated kiss.

It's a collision of conflicting emotions – anger, desire, frustration – all rolled into one. The kiss is both punishing and passionate, a show of the unresolved tension that has been building between you. As you respond to his unexpected move, the lines between anger and lust blur in the heat of the moment.

Time seems to freeze as you both lose yourselves in the unexpected intensity of the kiss. The room, once filled with animosity, now becomes a battlefield of unspoken emotions. The kiss is a paradox, a contradiction to the heated argument that lead to it.

His hands left your face as he move them to grip your hips, as his lips travelled down your neck as he planted wet kisses on it. You couldn't help but whimper in desire, keeping his movements slow and calculated. "You're a slut, you know that?" He whispers in your ear as he sucks right below it.

The dirty words left his mouth so smoothly you couldn't help but whimper in affirmation. You couldn't help but like it. Trevor's hand moves further south and lands right on your crotch. You let out a soft moan at that, looking to the side at Trevor's expression. He still looked frustrated as he rubbed you slowly, "You let Alex touch you like this?"

You wanted to be annoyed but he just has you such a trance, you couldn't be. You didn't know what this whole competition with Alex was, but all you know was that Trevor wanted praise. You shook your head, "Only you, Trev."

"Good." He finally unbuttoned your jeans and you felt a relief wash over you. Trevor quickly moved your jeans to down to your ankles as he felt your underwear. You felt another jolt of utter arousal hit you as he rubbed you.

"Oh fuck, Trevor." Your eyes shut as your head lolled back on the couch.

"You're so wet, princess." Trevor let out a laugh as he moved his hands. "Bet Alex couldn't make you this wet."

You shook your head in a state of deliciousness. "Only you, Trev. Please, do something."

"I don't think you deserve it though, princess. Haven't been so nice lately, huh?" He was teasing and you both knew it. You let out an exasperated sigh as you bucked your hips against his hand.

"Trevor, don't tease right now."

"I'm serious." He moved his other hand to grip your face to make you look at him. "You haven't been a good girl, princess. Causing all these problems for me, when all I've done is make you feel so good. Right?" He started rubbing you a little faster, as your eyes shut again.

You knew you were gonna regret agreeing with him later but you needed him to touch you, or you swore you were gonna explode. "Fuck. Yes, I'm sorry. Sorry just please do anything, I need you."

"Need me? Hmm?" He was having fun with this and you were tired of it. He finally moved your underwear to the side and he dipped a finger in, making you arch your back on the couch.

"Shit, Trev!"

He immediately started thrusting his finger in and out. "You're so fucking wet, princess. And I didn't even touch you until now. You're a slut for me, beneath all that anger and frustration from earlier, all you needed was another good fuck from me again, huh Y/N?"

You hated how right he was. And how good he was making you feel. He soon added another finger and that added to the pressure that was currently building in your lower stomach. It was so, so close to snapping, you were about to cum. Your whole body began shaking as you felt the wave of relief wash over you, one hand gripping his wrist and the other holding onto the couch.

Before you could process anything, Trevor pulled your jeans back up. He leaned down to your face, "Open your mouth." You did as you were told and he stuffed his fingers into your mouth. "You made a mess all over my fingers, princess. Gotta clean it up now."

You sucked his fingers clean of your arousal. Then, you heard keys and Trevor quickly pulled them out of your mouth right as Alex walked in. "Hey guys, I got Chipotle. I got your usual orders." He looked up with a smile before it fell slowly. "Um, you two okay?"

Trevor responded with a laugh, "Yup we're perfect. I gotta go to the bathroom really quick I'll be right out." He didn't spare you another glance as he sauntered back into the bathroom.

"Didn't he just take a shower?"

"Yeah, maybe he just um... needed to pee." Your legs were still shaking as you smiled up at Alex. "You uh, got some guac and chips?"

──

As the weeks passed, the dynamics between you and Trevor shifted. What started as a complicated relationship began to turn into something more. The late-night conversations grew longer, the laughter became more genuine, and the guarded walls you both had built around yourselves started to crumble. Being vulnerable became something neither of you were scared of anymore. You found solace in each other's company, sharing your thoughts, fears, and dreams.

Trevor, who was once guarded, started opening up about the pressures of his career, the expectations, and the toll it took on him. In turn, you shared your own struggles, creating a bond that turned into something more than the physical. The tension that lingered from the first night slowly dissipated, replaced by a something more.

The secrecy surrounding your relationship added an element of thrill, but it also brought uncertainty. The fear of someone finding out, especially Alex, loomed over you both. Yet, despite the complications, you found solace in each other's company. The intimacy that developed between you two went beyond the physical, and the connection deepened with each passing day. But the lingering question remained: How long could this hidden relationship last and what would be the consequences when the truth inevitably came to light?

The glow of city lights illuminated the night as Trevor and you walked side by side along a quiet street. The evening air felt cold, but the warmth between you two created a bubble that shielded you from the cold.

Trevor's hand found its way to yours, his fingers intertwined with yours in a natural and familiar way. Your hands were freezing and his were warm, you felt yourself become warm by his touch. As you walked, you couldn't help but exchange playful glances and teasing smiles.

The city sounds slowly faded as you entered a little café that was a safe haven from the crispy air outside. The smell of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you as you walked in.

The barista greeted you with a smile as you approached the counter. Trevor squeezed your hand gently, his eyes locked onto yours. "What do you feel like having?"

You scanned the menu, the warmth in your chest spreading as you realized how comfortable and natural this felt. "How about some hot cocoa?"

"Yeah, me too." Trevor nodded and placed the order, his hand never leaving yours.

As you waited for your drinks, you found a cozy corner booth and settled in. Trevor slid into the booth across from you, his gaze was warm. "My stomach still hurts from that ramen we had on Saturday."

You laughed at that and shook your head, "Me too. What were we thinking ordering the spiciest one on the menu?"

Trevor chuckled, his laughter echoing in the warmth of the café. "I don't know, we thought we could handle it. I don't even remember what it tasted like."

"Probably a trauma response," You joked as you smiled up at him.

Trevor shook his head, "Yeah never again."

The warm cups cradled in your hands, you took a sip of the sweet hot cocoa. "This is perfect. Thank you for indulging my sweet tooth."

Trevor grinned, his eyes sparkling with as he winked playfully. "Anything for you."

"Oh yeah?" You laughed as you shook your head.

Trevor leaned in slightly, his voice lower. "Absolutely. You've got a sweet tooth, and I've got a soft spot for you."

"That was so cheesy, Trevor." You shook your head in a faux disappointed way but your heart fluttered at his words. You wanted to think logically but at this point, you couldn't. You knew you weren't dating but it felt like you were, and that was all that mattered right now.

"Yeah? Well you're blushing so I'm pretty sure it landed well, no matter how cheesy you say it was." He smirked as he drank some of his hot cocoa.

"Oh, shut up." You rolled your eyes, hitting his shoulder playfully. "That was your goal the entire time, you're just trying to get in my pants."

He put his hands up defensively as he laughed, "You got me there, princess."

Your face was as warm as the drink in your hands as Trevor gazed back at you. "Stop looking at me like that." You whispered with a smile.

Trevor shook his head in response, "Nope." He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your lips.

──

You pulled up the blanket to cover your naked body as you let out a laugh at Trevor's joke, the warmth of your bodies leaving your entire body on fire. The glow of his bedside lamp created a cozy atmosphere, casting shadows that danced along the walls. Trevor laid beside you, a contented smile playing on his lips.

"That was a good one," you say softly, still chuckling at his stupid humor.

Trevor smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I have my moments. But hey, I've gotta keep ya entertained."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Entertained? Is that what this is?" You gestured between the two of you.

"Of course. I'm here to provide top-tier entertainment. What else did you think this was?"

You feigned deep contemplation, tapping your chin. "Well I was hoping for a one-man show, but I guess company isn't too bad."

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he laughed. "Oh, I see how it is. You're just here for the comedy, not the sexy company."

You chuckled, "Well, your sexy company is tolerable when you're not making terrible jokes."

Trevor placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. "Ouch, Y/N. My jokes are gold, and you know it."

"More like bronze," you teased, smirking.

Trevor shook his head, "I'm a comedic genius and you know it, princess."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Genius might be pushing it a bit."

He feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch, right in the ego. I really thought I was the funniest guy you knew, sweetheart."

You chuckled, "You're definitely up there, but I can't give you a big head. We wouldn't want that."

Trevor shifted closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. "Nah, my head's just the right size. Wouldn't want it any other way."

Before you could respond, you heard a loud ding! coming from the bedside table. You realized it was Trevor's phone and grabbed it quickly and glancing at the screen on pure habit. Your heart dropped when you saw a girl's name with three hearts next to it, "Amber ❤️❤️❤️". You didn't recognize it and you quickly handed it to Trevor, choosing to keep quiet. You two were nothing but friends with benefits, that was it.

That realization hit you like a ton of bricks, you knew you had no right to be saying anything because neither of you even talked about wanting commitment. But the thought of him talking to other girls the same he did with you felt like betrayal, but of course he was; he was one of the biggest names in the NHL right now, who wouldn't wanna sleep with him?

Trevor took his phone from you, glancing at the screen. He quickly tapped a response, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, even though you had no right to. Your heart felt like it was shattered and you suddenly felt sick. It was a stark reminder of the nature of your relationship – undefined and open.

He put his phone back on the bedside table, seemingly oblivious to the momentary discomfort that flickered across your face. "Sorry about that. Just a friend," he said casually, offering a smile.

You managed a nod, plastering on a forced smile. "No worries." Your response was short as you pulled the covers up to cover up more of your naked body, you felt more exposed than before.

He noticed the gesture and his eyebrows furrowed, "You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired. I should probably get going, I have work in the morning." You said softly, dismissing the fact you said you'd stay the night, like you usually did.

Trevor seemed confused until he looked at his phone then back at you, piecing it together. "Oh,"

You got out of the bed and put your bra and shirt back on. Trevor stayed in bed, trying to figure out what to say. Just as you were about to leave, Trevor's phone buzzed again. Another notification from the same girl probably, and you couldn't ignore the pang of hurt that struck you.

Trevor, sensing your gaze, met your eyes, his expression guarded. The unspoken tension between you two hung in the air. "Is everything okay?" He asked, shaking his head.

"Yeah, fine."

"Y/N, is this about her?" He gestured toward his phone. Before you could say anything he continued. "Come back, princess. Promise I'll stop talking to her, okay? Will that make you stop being cold?"

You hesitated, caught off guard by Trevor's unexpected offer. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored your own uncertainty. After a moment of silence, you sighed, relenting to the unspoken desire for clarity.

"Fine," you replied, the weight of the unspoken tension lifting slightly. You looked up at him and the curves of his lips turned up into a warm smile and it felt like he was pulling you back in. Goddamnit. You tried to be strong but even his smile made your knees buckle.

"Come here, princess." He mumbled as he opened his arms up and you sighed. You put down your bag and slowly walked back to him as he scooched so you could come.

As you nestled into the warmth of Trevor's arms, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you, a mixture of comfort and uncertainty settled in. The comfort of being close to him tugged at your heart, and for a moment, it felt like the unspoken tension had given way to a silent understanding. You listened to the soft beat of his heart, and it echoed the complexities of your own feelings. Trevor's fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, the rhythmic gesture grounding you both in the present moment.

He moved slowly and gave you a soft kiss on your head as he muttered against your hair, "Only really want you, princess. You're the only one who could ever make me feel like this, do shit like this..."

The words hung in the air, as you stayed wrapped in his arms. You couldn't ignore the fact that, despite the uncertainties, there was a bond that he shared with you that he doesn't share with anyone else.

──

Finally, after months of living with Alex, Trevor had secured his own place. In the true nature of Alex and Trevor, they threw a housewarming party to celebrate it.

The party at Trevor's new place was in full swing. In a corner of the living room, Trevor leaned against the wall, a solo cup in hand, and surveyed the scene. His eyes found Alex across the room, engaged in a conversation with a group of people. As he caught sight of you approaching, Trevor's smile widened.

"Enjoying the party, princess?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

You smirked, taking a sip of your drink. "Not bad, Trevor. You throw a decent party."

Alex walked over and joined the conversation, clapping Trevor on the back. "Man, this place is huge. Finally got rid of the sardine can feel, huh?"

Trevor chuckled, "Yeah, the sardine can days are over. No offense, Alex."

"None taken. It was time for a change, and I needed my own space. Plus, no more stepping on each other's toes. I can finally have as many girls over as I want." Alex joked as you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, sure Mr. Rizz right here."

"Shut up, Y/N. You're still single and I'm here with girls blowing up my phone." Alex playfully glared at you and you couldn't help but laugh. You and Trevor both exchanged a knowing glance before laughing again. It was still a secret, of course.

Trevor's gaze suddenly moved behind you and he quickly excused himself, you turned around to see the girl, Amber, from the other night. The one who he'd insisted he'd stop seeing. The only reason why you knew what she looked like was because you decided to do some investigating on his Instagram, finding her. Your face fell and you turned to Alex, excusing yourself as well to go find some drinks.

The thing was, you and Trevor weren't together. It wasn't the fact that he's still seeing her that bothered (but you would admit that it did sting a little), it was the fact that he promised to stop talking to her, it was on his own accord.

Moving through the crowd, you felt a knot form in your stomach as you sought refuge near in the kitchen. The sight of Lily's arrival stirred a bunch of emotions, each one more complex than the last. Trevor excusing himself to go talk to her only added to the discomfort.

As you busied yourself with preparing a drink, Alex joined you, sensing the shift in your mood. "Everything okay, Y/N?"

You forced a smile, attempting to downplay the situation. "Yeah, just needed a breather. Crowds, you know?"

Alex raised an eyebrow, studying your expression closely. "You sure that's all?"

"It's nothing, Alex," you reassured him, taking a sip of your drink. The burning liquid did little to soothe the brewing turmoil within.

The music throbbed in the background as you kept an eye on Trevor. His interactions with Amber seemed too friendly for someone he "stopped talking to". The promises he made echoed in your mind, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being betrayed, even if it was in a vague, unspoken way.

As you continued to observe Trevor and Amber, your internal turmoil escalated. You knew that watching wouldn't help your anxiety but you couldn't stop yourself. They laughed together, sharing inside jokes that seemed to bridge a connection beyond what you'd expected. It was a contrast to the secrecy that surrounded your interactions with Trevor, you couldn't help but feel jealous. The laughter, their shared glances, and his touches — it all played out before you like a scene from a script you hadn't been privy to. Your attempt to brush off the unease became even more challenging.

Then, he broke your final straw — he moved her chin up to look at him, like he always did with you. It was a simple gesture but it meant a lot but now you've realized it may have just been a trick all along. He knew what he was doing. You couldn't just sit there and watch anymore, you had to do something. Unable to bear the sight any longer, you made your way through the crowd, determined to confront Trevor about this stupid situation.

Finally reaching Trevor, you tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to you, a smile playing on his lips. "Hey, princess, having a good time?"

The nickname didn't feel so endearing as did it before you glanced at Amber then back at him. Your attempt to maintain composure was slipping, and you responded with a forced smile. "Can we talk?"

Trevor's brow furrowed, and he exchanged a quick glance with Amber before nodding. "Sure thing, Y/N."

Before you and Trevor could walk away, Amber spoke up. Sensing tension, glanced between you and Trevor before smirking. "Oh, is this your girlfriend?"

The term stung, not because you didn't want to be Trevor's girlfriend, but because it highlighted the weird nature of your connection. Before you could respond, Amber continued, her tone condescending, "Trevor, you didn't mention you had a possessive one."

You gritted your teeth, your patience waning. "I appreciate your concern, but this is between Trevor and me. You don't need to get involved."

Trevor's jaw tightened, irritation evident in his expression. "Amber, we're just figuring shit out. It's not your business."

She chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension. "Oh, I get it. Casual fun, right?" Amber's gaze shifted to you, her eyes narrowing with a hint of mockery. "Hope you're not catching feelings, sweetheart. It's not that kind of arrangement. And just remember, you have options, Trev."

The nickname rolled off her tongue perfectly as she left. As she walked away, Trevor shot her a disapproving look before turning his attention back to you.

Turning back to Trevor, you felt a mixture of frustration and hurt. "Can't believe she talked to me like that. And I can't believe you just let it happen."

Trevor looked torn, his eyes darting between you and where Lily disappeared into the crowd. "Y/N, I didn't expect her to be like that, she's sweet to me. Can we talk about this later?"

The dismissal fueled your anger. "Later? You always say later, Trevor. Do I even matter to you?"

Before he could respond, you stormed away, the weight of unspoken words heavy on your shoulders. Trevor hesitated for a moment, torn between following you and letting you go, but ultimately, he chose to chase after you, calling your name in a desperate plea.

He finally caught up, a hand grabbing your arm gently to turn you around. "Y/N, come on. Let's talk about this."

You scoffed, ripping your arm away. "Talk? You're only good at talking, Trevor. Actions? Not so much."

Trevor ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. "What do you want from me, Y/N? I can't control how she acts."

"Maybe you can't control her, but you can control your own actions," you shot back, the anger bubbling over. "You promised, Trevor. You promised me you'd stop talking to her."

He sighed, looking exasperated. "I said I would talk to her. I didn't know she'd act like that. Can we please not do this here?"

Your eyes narrowed, a bitter laugh escaping you. "Oh, now you care about where we fight? How considerate of you."

Trevor's frustration matched yours, and he raised his voice. "I'm trying, okay? I'm dealing with a lot right now."

"Yeah, well, so am I," you retorted, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill. The emotions that had been brewing for weeks finally reached a boiling point. "I can't keep doing this, Trevor. I can't keep pretending like everything's fine when it's not."

Trevor's frustration boiled over as he snapped back, "Oh, don't act like you're innocent in all of this, Y/N. You're the one who can't make up your damn mind. One minute, you're all over me, and the next, you're acting like I'm a stranger."

You glared at him, the hurt evident in your eyes. "Maybe I wouldn't be so confused if you actually communicated instead of leaving me in the dark all the time. And don't even get me started on your promises."

He rolled his eyes, a scoff escaping his lips. "Promises? What are we, teenagers? Get over yourself, Y/N. This isn't some fucking fairy tale, people are gonna break some promises sometimes."

Your jaw tightened, and you shot back, "At least I'm not playing games with people's feelings. You know, it's not that hard to be a decent human being, Trevor."

Trevor's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, the venom in his voice palpable. "You act like you're some hotshot, like you have it all figured out, you're just as lost as the rest of us. Maybe you should stop pretending like you have your shit together because I know you don't."

You couldn't believe he had went that low. Your chest tightened with anger, "At least I'm not relying on empty hookups to fill the void, Trevor. Maybe if you faced your issues instead of drowning them in whatever girl you find next, you wouldn't be such a fucking mess all the time."

Trevor's face contorted with rage, his usual composed demeanor crumbling. "And what about you, huh? Always trying to fix everyone else's problems. Maybe you should take a good look in the mirror and realize you can't fix everything."

The words hung in the air, each one sharper than a blade. The pain they carried cut through the lingering tension, leaving you stunned. Trevor, realizing the meaning of his words, took a step forward, a desperate urgency in his eyes.

"Y/N, wait, I didn't mean—"

But you had heard enough. The realization that he had crossed a line, spoken words that couldn't be unsaid, fueled your resolve. You turned away, your footsteps quickening as you tried to distance yourself from the searing pain in his words.

Trevor stumbled out an apology, the desperation in his voice growing, "Wait, I take it back. Y/N, please, don't go. I didn't mean any of that."

With each step away from him, the sounds of the party became muffled, as if the world outside your fractured bubble was moving on without you. Trevor called your name one last time, his voice a desperate plea, but you couldn't bring yourself to turn back.

He turned around and saw the last person he'd thought was overhearring them. "Fuck, Alex. You scared me-"

"You and Y/N were hooking up this entire time?" Alex spat, anger in his voice. Trevor hadn't seen him this livid in his entire life. "I should've known, and I should've told her it's a bad idea. And now she's crying because of you, Trevor. Great move, buddy."

Trevor's annoyance flared, "Alex, this is none of your business. Stay out of it."

But Alex wasn't backing down. "None of my business? She's my best friend, Trevor. I hate seeing her like this, and I hate that you're the one causing it."

"Cut the "best friend" bullshit, we all know you fucking like her!" Trevor yelled. He was so close to spilling over the edge, this was supposed to be a fun party but now it's turning into a mess. "And you're too fucking jealous to admit it. And here's the thing, buddy, she'll never see as more than a brother figure, so find yourself someone else."

Alex's eyes widened, disbelief and even more anger merging on his face. "You think this is about jealousy? Trevor, you're so fucking blind. I care about her well-being, not some weird possessiveness shit. Unlike you, I don't treat people as disposable, and I sure as hell don't manipulate them into some fucked up games."

Trevor's frustration boiled over. "You don't understand a fucking thing. She's not your responsibility, and you're not her savior. Stop pretending like you know what's best for her."

Alex's eyes narrowed. "You're right. I don't know what's best for her. But I know what's not, and that's you, Trevor. If this is the person you've become, then-"

Trevor, feeling the weight of the accusations and the tension in the room, snapped, "You know what, Alex? She's mine. Got it? Mine. And you need to accept that."

Alex's eyes widened, pure anger on his face. "What did you just say?"

Trevor's face contorted with a bitter smirk. "You heard me. She's mine. You've always been in the way, and now she sees it too. So, back off, buddy, She doesn't need you."

The words hung in the air like a poisonous cloud. Alex, fueled by a surge of rage, responded, "You're fucking crazy if you think she's an object you can just claim. She deserves someone who treats her with respect, not someone who plays with her feelings for fun."

Trevor's eyes blazed with fury, "You have no idea what she wants. You've always been the nice guy, and nice guys finish last."

Alex scoffed and finally looked away from him, starting to walk to the door. "Yeah, fuck this I don't care. Bye, asshole."

"Oh real rich, Alex! Running off to go save the day like you always do, huh?" He yelled as Alex opened the front door. "Good luck getting outta the friendzone." Before he could walk out, Trevor grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. "You'll never, ever compare to me, Alex. In any way, shape or form. Especially in that department cus we all know who does it better." With a forceful shove, Trevor sent Alex stumbling backward against the door before turning away and walking off.

Trevor needed a drink, and fast. He didn't process anything or anyone as he walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of vodka. He pulled out one of the shot glasses before pouring himself one, taking it quickly.

Before he could take another, someone tapped on his shoulder. "How'd it go with your little girlfriend?" Amber smirked. "Is she gone?"

Trevor couldn't even speak, he was livid. She was the reason that you had walked away from this. And he just realized that you were the best thing he'd ever have. "Oh, fuck off."

Amber looked proud as she laughed, "Don't be too sad about it, Z, you have me."

That was the last straw. "Get the fuck out."

Her face finally fell. "What-"

"You heard me. Get the fuck out," each word came out more harsh the next. "And I don't wanna ever hear from you again, got it?"

"Z, wait, no! Why are you mad-"

"Get the fuck out! Now!" Trevor finally yelled, watching her shoulders fall. She finally got the memo and sighed, walking away.

As Trevor downed another shot, he realized the gravity of the situation. He had pushed you away, hurt Alex, and now, he had to face the consequences of his actions. The alcohol burned, matching the turmoil in his mind.

Alex caught up with you just outside the house, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the night. He could see the tear stains on your cheeks, and the weight of the situation weighed heavily on his shoulders.

"Hey," he said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned to him, and he could see the hurt in your eyes. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight and comforting embrace.

You let out a shaky breath, finding solace in the warmth of Alex's presence. His friendship had always been a source of support, and in that moment, you needed it more than ever. He didn't press you to talk; he just held you, letting you feel the reassurance of his touch.

"I can't believe he said those things," you whispered, your voice breaking as your tears stained his hoodie.

Alex sighed, rubbing your back soothingly. "Yeah, he went way too far. You don't deserve that, Y/N."

As the two of you stood there in the quiet night, the weight of Trevor's hurtful words lingered in the air. Alex's presence was the comfort you needed, though. The warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against yours, helped to ease the ache that Trevor had left behind.

After a moment, you pulled back slightly, meeting Alex's gaze. There was a soft understanding between you, a connection that went beyond friendship. In that shared vulnerability, something shifted.

"I don't know what I expected," you admitted, wiping away a stray tear as you sniffled. "But I never thought he'd say those things. It's like he's a different person."

Alex nodded, a mixture of empathy and frustration in his eyes. "Sometimes people show their true colors when things get tough. And sometimes, we don't really know them as well as we think we do."

A small, sad smile played on your lips. "I thought we were... together, you know? And now it's like I never really knew him."

Alex's expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from your face. "You deserve better, Y/N. You deserve someone who appreciates you for who you are, without all the drama and games."

As the words hung in the air, a new awareness passed between you. The night had unfolded in ways you hadn't anticipated, and in the quiet intimacy of that moment, something changed. The connection between you and Alex had deepened, a subtle shift that neither of you fully understood yet.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't say anything about it. It was a secret and I didn't want you to think differently of me." You spoke softly.

"That could never happen, Y/N." He whispered as he cupped your face slowly, as if to test the waters.

Then, without planning, both of your lips met in a gentle kiss. It was a tender touch of understanding of the pain you both felt. The world around you seemed to fade for a moment as the weight on your shoulders lifted, replaced by a different kind of warmth. When you pulled away, uncertainty lingered in the air, but there was also a sense of relief.

──

Over the next couple months, You and Alex started dating, and everything seemed happy and content for the most part. You went on dates and built a connection that felt safe and comforting, nothing like the one you had with Trevor. However, You couldn't shake the lingering feeling that a part of you was still entwined with Trevor. You knew that it was better for you but you missed the way Trevor touched you, the way he spoke and the way he treated you (when it wasn't bad). The joy she felt with Alex was genuine, but the ghost of Trevor lingered in the shadows, casting doubt on her decisions.

You and Alex continued your relationship but Alex couldn't shake the feeling that your heart still held a significant place for Trevor. Subtle cues, unspoken glances, and the distant expression spoke volumes to him. Despite your happy moments, he sensed your mind occasionally drifting back to Trevor sometimes.

Alex grappled with the awareness that he might be a compromise, a second choice compared to the intensity and history you shared with Trevor. The quiet comparisons became a silent shadow in your relationship, and though Alex tried to provide the love and support you truly deserved, he couldn't erase the lingering presence of Trevor in your heart.

"So who's throwing this party again?" You spoke as Alex drove quietly, music softly playing in the background.

"It's Jack's place," Alex replied, his eyes briefly meeting yours. "Should be a good time. He knows how to throw a good party."

You nodded, looking forward to a night of drinking, work hadn't been so fun and you wanted to have fun with all your friends. The car pulled up to the house, music pulsating from inside. As you stepped out, the loud atmosphere embraced you, drowning out any worries.

Amidst the loud music and the crowd, you and Alex found a space on the makeshift dance floor. The rhythm of the music pulled you closer, and soon, you were dancing together, your movements syncing effortlessly. The worries of the past seemed to fade away in the loud music, leaving only the present moment.

Alex twirled you playfully, a smile on his face, and you couldn't help but giggle. As the song shifted to a slower tempo, Alex pulled you into a gentle sway, the two of you lost in the music and each other.

The party continued around you, but in that moment, it felt like the world had slowed down. Alex's eyes met yours, and a warmth passed between you, the worries and comparisons faded away, leaving only the simplicity of the dance and the contentment of being in each other's company.

Everything was perfect.

Then Alex's gaze shifted behind you and suddenly his eyes hardened and he stopped swaying. You turned around to see the one person who you have spent the last 3 months trying to forget about, smirking as he watched the two of you.

"Trevor?"

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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zarla-s · 6 months

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We move forward, 'cause we can't go back...

It's the EIGHTH anniversary of Handplates, and the first one after I finished the comic back in July! I decided to dig up a very old wip that I never finished and finally do it. I've always loved WeMoveForward by The Midnight, and I think it applies not only to the comic itself but also this period after it... there's no way to go back to when I was doing it, only moving forward after it's done.

Even more appropriately, since I did this wip, these characters all moved forward even further... even as this sat in my files, they moved forward, in a sense. I don't know, the song gives me a sort of plaintive, longing, bittersweet feeling... it's hard to explain.

I had a very insistent voice in my head that always made me do a Handplates page over the years I was working on it, no matter what happened. I wasn't sure if that voice would ever stop, even when it's done, but it has! It's gotten quieter now, mostly only nagging me about other projects I should be working on (Defrag, the Ace Attorney/Frozen fic, web design, fic ideas, art ideas...) whenever I'm doing something, much like it did before I started the comic.

How I feel about Handplates finishing though is strange. At times it doesn't feel like it's over, even if I don't feel like I need to do another page. At other times I get sad thinking about it and I miss it, and other times I look back on it with amazement that I was able to do it. Sometimes I look back on it and think about what was happening in my life at that time, and sometimes when I look at it it's unreal and it's hard to believe I even did it, like someone else did the whole thing. It's like it's there but it's not, it's present but it isn't. It's a very strange feeling, it's hard to describe or pin down. I know it'll always be with me in some way, but it is strange to be able to focus so much attention on other things without that feeling of having to set aside a few days to do a page every two weeks... not bad or anything, but I'm not used to it still.

I don't know! When I read the comments on the last page a lot of them made me cry, especially those talking about how the comic had been their childhood, and now their childhood is over. It was sad to think that I had a part in something like that ending... but it ends for everyone, no matter what you do. We, you and me, everyone... we move forward, 'cause we can't go back. That line was so evocative for me that I even used it as a chapter title for the penultimate chapter on Comicfury.

I don't know, just nostalgic thoughts! I don't know if that's the right word for it... but thank you to all of you who read it and enjoyed it. Even now I hear from new people coming to it and reading through it again now that it's done. Even if it's finished, it's still new to people just finding it. It's still "living" in a sense. And thanks to those of you who stuck around even though it's done, I appreciate it. |D

(As a note, the Gaster ukagaka has a surprise if you boot him on the anniversary after seeing the brothers, if you haven't done that)

[index] [patreon]

#undertale #handplates #asgore #gaster #sans #papyrus #asriel #z art #man i like never draw asriel #i always feel guilty when i move on to something different than what brought people to me #but my interests never really die they just fall asleep for a little while #they always come back eventually

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myntrose · 3 months

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ೃ⁀➷partners in crime ︻デ═一

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ft: Alastor x gn! reader

summary: It's another night at the hotel. Everyone is lounging around the shared space, or sitting at the bar. With a boost of confidence (and a few drinks) Angel finally asks the burning question everyone had : How did you and Alastor meet?

cw: demi! Alastor, established relationship(married), Alastor and reader meet when they were alive, reader is an assassin , killing and mild gore (it's alastor yall), a lot of petnames, no use of y/n, no beta we die like men

a/n: it's the way alastor got me smiling and kicking my feet. he got me to break my 1 year hiatus LMAO. also, I am aware that he's ace. I myself am somewhere along the demi spectrum, so this fic is purely for comfort n coping. if you don't like it, pls ignore :,D

wc: 1.5 k (1,469 words)

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾────────────────────────────────☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

The hotel common was filled with low gentle music and idle chatter. Vaggie and Charlie were on the couch, talking about everything and nothing. Nifty was running around chasing some poor roach. Even Cherri was here, with Sir Pentious attempting to flirt with her once again.

Husk was behind the bar, in ordinary fashion. Although he was mostly listening and doing his job, he would occasionally chide into the conversation the other two residents at the hotel were having. Angel was in the middle of telling you about how much of a headache Val was, while you gave him you condolences. It seemed like the only person missing was the radio demon himself, who was probably in his tower, making a new broadcast.

"Speakin of which..." Angel, who noticed Alastor's lack of presence, noted "I got a question for ya toots. How is it that tall, red and creepy managed to bag you as a partner? You're sweet and all, I get that. But how did you even meet-"

The loud slam of drinks caused the peace within the hotel to halt . Husk shoots a stern glare towards Angel, almost to warn him, be cautious about asking question's about Alastor and his darling, you never know if he's listening.

"It's alright, Husk" You send him a sincere smile. While he would never trust your husband, he can't help but believe your words.

"Well, Angel, let's start with this. If you've ever wondered why I'm down here in the first place, it's because of the occupation I had when I was alive. That's actually how I met Alastor."

Oh, maybe you were a thief and were trying to steal something from Alastor. Or maybe a detective that was on the case to solve his murders. Or maybe-

"I was hired to assassinate one of his targets."

oh.

You couldn't help but laugh at Angels' reaction. Sure, you were kind to those in the hotel, and definitely not as threatening as most overlords. He, and most people you met in Hell, just assumed you committed some mundane crime and got the unfortunate eternal punishment .

Taking a small sip of your drink, you start to recollect the unforgettable night that would define your current relationship.

It was supposed to be like any other job that you were given. Your employer would hand you a file, you would find the target, and get paid in return. Maybe it wasn't the most ethical way to make money, but hey, you knew how to kill so you made it work.

You had followed your target into the bar, while waiting away in the corner. Though your eyes were focused on them the entire night, you couldn't help but feel another pair of eyes on you.

It was probably some random patron in the bar, you guessed. It wasn't for another hour when you noticed that your target had left the vicinity.

The streets were dark, with the occasional street light every block or so. It was perfect place to finish your job. All you needed was for your target to turn into some alleyway, and as quietly as you followed him, you'd quietly go for the kill-

Quietly. Hold on, why was it so quite?

Looking up the street, you noticed that what was once where your target stood was now empty. There was no way he outran you, given that you would have heard his footsteps. To the right of you were the woods, maybe he took a detour?

No, everything felt wrong. Every single thought in your brain was screaming to run, to grab your gun that was hidden beneath your coat, to get out of here-

"Careful my dear, we wouldn't want you getting hurt now, would we?"

A cold blade found its way to your neck. Two very disturbing facts became known to you. First, was the fact that the blade was already stained red. And second, you were about to be the second kill of the night.

A million thoughts ran through your mind. Was this how you were going to die? How fast could you grab your gun? Would your employer be pissed off that you died in the job? With your eyes shut closed, you waited for the knife to make contact.

"Now now, there's no need to be so scared my dear! My, you look like a deer in headlights!"

...what?

Opening your eyes, you're met with the mysterious man who just had his weapon on you seconds ago. He seemed vaguely familiar, probably having seen him at the bar you frequent.

"It seems that I've caused you quite a scare. Do know that wasn't my intention. I just wanted to see for myself this new assassin I've heard so much about! You've caused quite the gossip, my dear. Makes good conservation."

You continued to stand in silence, with the initial shock of almost dying wearing off now. As mad as you were that you got caught, you were equally confused on just who this man was. With some more listening to his voice, the answer popped into your mind.

"You- you're that new radio host! Alastor, was it?"

Alastor's smile grew at the acknowledgment. "Indeed I am! Glad to know you've heard about me."'

Had anyone walked into the conversation you two were having, they would have assumed it was one between new acquaintances. In which one has a knife in their hand, while the other has a gun.

"You see, my dear, I've heard quite a bit about your line if work. While I am more than capable of... dealing with others, I propose that we work out some sort of deal. One where you can finally stop working for that employer of yours, and actually make a profit off your talents."

Alastor put out a hand, waiting, watching to see how you'd respond. It's been a long night for you, and you had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last time you saw. Plus, if working with him meant you'd finally have to stop answering to your boss, then why the hell not. You take his hand, before agreeing to this proposition.

"...and since then, we've been business partners. Our relationship kind of just happened after a few moths."

It was nice to look back to when you first met your now-husband. Looking around the bar, you noticed that you weren't just talking to Angel. At some point, unbeknownst to you, everyone at the hotel had come over to listen to your story time.

"Well toots, I figured you had to be some sort of crazy to date smiles, but I guess it takes one to know one." Angels says while taking a shot, still reeling with that fact that someone as kind as you was a killer. Head nods and murmurs of agreement spread within the group.

Before you could say anything, a pool of dark clouds appeared to your side. From the shadows, the very man you were taking about stood before you.

"Hey, Al."

He faces you with his signature grin, before turning to the rest of the residents.

"It seems that I've became the topic of conversion while I was gone! It's quite interesting to see how interested you all are in with me and my dear's meeting."

The hint of annoyance in his voice was entertaining, to say the least. You place a hand on his shoulder, barely hovering above it.

"Aww, come of Al! They just wanted to hear how we first met! Besides, it's a fun story to tell."

"If "fun" means almost killing ya for the first time, I'd hate to know what you guys did when you started dating-" "Shut up Angel!"

You answer a few questions that were asked before everyone eventually returned back to their previous endeavors. Husk and Angel eventually sit around with the others in the common room, leaving just you and Alastor at the bar.

"It's kinda funny, now that I look back at it."

Alastor doesn't say anything, promoting you to continue.

"That night, I almost turned down that job. I was painfully tired, and all I wanted to do was go home. It's crazy to think that we wouldn't have met had I not pushed myself to take the job."

Anyone who knew Alastor would know that him asking for a partnership was simply outlandish. Hell, Alastor himself questioned why he was seeking you out in the first place.

No, underneath he knew. He knew from the first time he saw you. It was a different time from when you both officially met. When he saw you, someone so seemingly innocent, skillfully take down a man twice your size, he knew that he had to meet you.

"Well, mon chéri, it's good that you did."

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader fluff #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader

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19burstraat · 6 months

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ketterdam dashboard simulator

goedmedbridge420

who up boeking they canal

10,345 notes

drydens follow

I can't believe some of you log on here and thirstpost about barrel vagrants. it makes me so sick. these men are the very pits of society and have never honoured ghezen a day in their lives. there are so many other young men who make their living in a reverent way. have some dignity.

#ghezen #inghezenssight #ghezenhonouring #churchofghezen #handofghezen

2 notes

kooperomno1fan

lionsroar12 follow

omg HOW is kaz brekker winning this he's SO problematic he's not even good for the economy he killed members of his own gang and kidnapped councilman van eck's son

dregsundrained

cranky coz your gang fell apart aren't you

17,860 notes

oskervoexchange follow

guys is this a mandela effect or what bc I SWEAR this painting used to be in the university district art museum, I literally saw it this week??? but I went today and it was GONE?????? there wasn't even a plaque?? guys pls I'm so confused why is everyone acting like this is normal for ketterdam? do priceless antiques just VANISH? am I being gaslit?

450 notes

stadhall-clerking

guys I'm so sorry I've been MIA :( I found out that my landlord was using my rent on the staves rather than fixing my black mould problem so I pushed him out the window and told the stadwatch he must have fallen and died because he wasn't honouring ghezen and got away with it. anyway I think maybe the black mould explains the dirtyhands/sturmhond fic I was writing sorry :( but I WILL finish my fairy queen of istamere meta post once I've moved into my new lodging

670 notes

dregsconfessions follow

SUBMISSION: sometimes I lie awake thinking about the time I fell down an entire flight of stairs at the slat when kaz was at the bottom, and he just stared at me (still lying on the floor), and then asked if I'd changed the beer kegs at the silver six yet. GIRL NO?!?!?!

#submission #dregs #dirtyhands #admin comment: laughed so loud my upstairs neighbour threatened to shoot me

546 notes

dregsconfessions follow

ADMIN NOTE: if the razorgulls don't fucking stop sending anon hate to this blog we'll tell dirtyhands n he'll send you your own IP address back

#see what happens you hack job seagulls

500 notes

kerchtourismboard

it's us, the real kerch tourism board, here to tell you what we're putting in the new summer season pamphlet. we got 1) three pages all about kaz brekker that end up being more of an advertisement than a deterrent 2) list of slipperiest spots in the barrel where you will fall over and get a concussion when ur drunk 3) top 10 ways to get your wallet stolen by a child in broad daylight 4) paintings of the komedie brute 5) advert for sten's stockpot 6) map of public toilets

570 notes

kerchtourismboardreal follow

we are not affiliated with any degenerate impersonator accounts who claim to be us. we are the only real kerch tourism account.

23 notes

kerchtourismboard-real follow

grafcanal smells like piss and you should bite everyone you see wearing the mister crimson costume

450 notes

stensstockpot follow

it's all 'fuck sten's stockpot' and 'I got food poisoning from the special at sten's stockpot' until you realise you don't have the money for cilla's fry, and then you come CRAWLING back to the loving arms of sten's stockpot and our special. you fucking traitors. you'll be back! you'll all be back

canaljumpings follow

what's in the special sten's stockpot

stensstockpot follow

it's a surprise ;)

bertskerch follow

nah I thought this was the real stens lmao

stensstockpot follow

bert smit you still have 45 kruge to pay on your tab and if you don't cough up we'll send our debtors to break your legs

230 notes

exchangingbabey follow

my grisha girlfriend who still wears a kefta and says things like 'nikolai lantsov is a bastard': ugh they're still debating whether or not the council of tides should be able to control kerch shipping, I hate inter-country politics

me: I think I hauve the queen's lady

4500 notes

(insp) (insp)

#I wasted a full hour making this #six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc duology #kaz brekker #ketterdam #soc #grishaverse #shadow and bone #my post #dashboard simulator

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shybunnie20 · 5 months

Text

Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

strangers to friends to lovers

★Teasers ★Locations ★My Masterlist

Summary: Eddie embarks on a new chapter after finally graduating. He expects to face a variety of hurdles that come with a change of scenery, but what he doesn't anticipate is falling head over heels for you.

Author's Note: Holy shit, I can't believe this is finally finished after 11 months. It’s the first time I've written smut in well over a year and I'm pleased with how it turned out (I couldn't have done it without the support of my beloved @eddiethefreakkmunson)

Location photos are linked above and in the fic at their first mentions. AU with no Upside Down, no use of Y/N, focuses on Eddie's POV, fluff and mild angst with a happy ending *wink wink*

Word count: 17.3k

Warnings: MDNI 18+! alcohol consumption/drunken behavior, subtly pervy moments, masturbation, fondling, dry humping, protected p in v, oral (f receiving), a little bit of praise & possessiveness, includes swearing.

Eddie was determined to leave Hawkins for good as soon as he tossed his graduation cap to the sky. He didn’t expect how expensive a venture like that would be, so he devised a plan. For a couple of months, he would stick around to save up a financial cushion.

To pocket every penny possible, Eddie took up odd jobs around town like mowing lawns and painting fences. With every task completed, he army crawled his way toward living life on his terms. He didn’t expect it to take him well over a year to save up enough cash.

On this sweltering afternoon, the atmosphere is charged with the promise of new beginnings. The summer sun peeks out from behind the dense clouds and casts irregular shadows on the dirt road of Forest Hills.

His van is packed to the brim with boxes of his belongings. After mentally checking everything twice over, uncertainty twists Eddie’s stomach into knots. What if I have car trouble? What if I get lost? What if it’s not everything I hoped it would be?

Wayne descends the concrete steps and joins Eddie. He lets out a belly-deep sigh that speaks volumes. You’ll figure it out. You’re gonna find your way. Your best days are ahead of you.

There’s a hint of sadness in seeing his boy take this significant step toward independence. But beneath that sorrow, profound pride prevails within Wayne. Eddie’s dreams reach far beyond the boundaries of Hawkins. Sticking around here won’t do him any good.

Eddie looks at the man who’s been his rock; the one who used to rise before dawn to plate crispy bacon and fluffy pancakes, meeting Eddie’s needs before his own. The memories are vivid as he reflects on the milestones his uncle guided him through. Without a doubt, Eddie wouldn’t be half the man he is today if it weren’t for Wayne.

His beloved van sits atop the very spot where he once wiped out while learning to ride a bike without training wheels. “It’s time to be a big boy,” Wayne said, urging Eddie to muster some faith in himself.

Reluctantly, Eddie mounted his small bicycle and clutched the rubber handles. With a push to set him off, he experienced the fleeting thrill of accomplishment as he pedaled forward. He only made it a few feet before his balance wavered.

The bike wobbled, sending Eddie tumbling to the gravel. His knees and palms bore the brunt of the fall, and the sharp pebbles embedded themselves into his scraped skin.

Wayne isn’t exactly a ‘rub some dirt on it’ kind of guy, but he isn’t the coddling type either. He cleaned Eddie’s wounds, slapped on some bandages, and told him to give it another shot. Faced with his nephew’s tearful protests, Wayne emphasized that just because failure stings, it shouldn't deter him from trying again.

“I guess this is it then.” Eddie wipes beads of sweat from his brow using the back of his hand.

“Yep, looks that way. It sure will be quiet without y’here. I got so used to living with all that racket of yours.”

“It’s called good music. You should take it for a spin sometime, it’s way better than that honky-tonk shit you made me listen to growing up.”

“I like my honky-tonk shit just fine, thank you,” They share a laugh.

Wayne will undoubtedly miss their banter, but it’s their Sundays together that weighs the most on his heart. Occasionally, the summer graces them with a few perfect days—pleasantly sunny with a stirring breeze. That weather maintained an unspoken tradition.

When little Eddie moved in, he was struggling to find his footing and hadn’t spoken much. Wayne took him to a serene lakeside spot where the water gently lapped against the shore.

He cast his line into the water in pursuit of a crappie dinner, and six-year-old Eddie gleefully played with the live bait. Over the years, their dynamic remained largely unchanged. Wayne watched his bobber from the swaying dock while Eddie kicked back in a folding lawn chair. It was simple father-son time that didn’t cost more than an afternoon or two. As of now, those days are over.

“You sure you’re gonna be alright without me, old man?”

Wayne shrugs and shoves his hands into his front pockets. “I suppose I’ll manage one way or another.”

“Take care of yourself,” Eddie says firmly.

“Will do. Oof-” Wayne chuckles when he’s abruptly hugged. He smooths over the back of Eddie’s head with his calloused palm.

The men hold onto one another, their unspoken sentiments conveyed in the silent embrace. They exchange a pat on the back before parting.

Wayne’s eyes follow his nephew as he closes the rear doors and makes his way toward the front of the van. “Eddie, one last thing. Remember to take your chances while ya got 'em and strike while the iron’s hot. Don’t let nothin’ pass ya by.”

Offering a firm salute, Eddie hops up and settles into the driver’s seat.

With Hawkins in the rearview mirror, Eddie sets off. Chicago may not be the sprawling metropolises of New York or Los Angeles, but it’s a world apart from his hometown.

It’s far enough away to provide a much-needed change of scenery, yet close enough that he can move back home if things go to shit.

The drive goes smoothly overall with a couple of instances of getting turned around. By the time Eddie is finished with the long hours on the road, he’s bone-weary.

His new place may not be the epitome of luxury, but it’s a roof over his head and that’s all that matters. After lugging his things to the fourth floor, Eddie can finally consider himself moved in. His apartment lacks furniture and decor, but it’s a space he can call his own.

The throbbing of an unbearable intensity plagues his thighs, a fiery reminder of the multiple flights of stairs conquered. He collapses onto his twin mattress and emits a low groan. The sound bounces off the bare walls and echoes through the studio apartment.

Eddie starts noticing the difference in sounds around him. Gone are the barking dogs and tires rolling over gravel. His fridge hums like the one in the trailer, which is nice, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out the argument happening in the unit above his.

When the noise finally subsides, he hopes to catch up on some much-needed sleep. But just a few minutes later, the ruckus rekindles. In a bid for tranquility, Eddie clutches his pillow to his ears to block out the animalistic makeup sex seeping through his ceiling. He’s praying that the man is a two-pump chump because this is a lot for a first night. Hell, it’s too much for any night.

In a matter of days, Eddie has already encountered a series of issues. Whenever he tries to use hot water, his shower head screeches like a banshee. And the upstairs neighbors? They wear bricks for shoes and have a hoedown at 2 a.m. on a nightly basis; that is, if they’re not at each other’s throats.

Job hunting has been fruitless. The gas stations, car washes, and tobacco shops turned him down for the same reason: no documented experience. This means that he’s going to be stuck with the makeshift bed frame he came with for a while, which is just wooden planks zip-tied together. He’s not sure how long it’ll be able to withstand his tossing and turning.

There’s good news, though. Eddie refused to succumb to defeat. Today, he strolled past a tattoo parlor and impulsively checked it out. When he approached the counter, Eddie was met by an imposing man with a rather unwelcoming demeanor. In spite of feeling a bit intimidated, he greeted the man warmly.

As expected, the shop owner Cliff, did not reciprocate. When Eddie inquired about job openings, Cliff promptly replied with a curt “no.” Eddie’s tone grew desperate and he nearly pleaded. Cliff became irritated and offered a non-existent custodial position just to get Eddie to shut up and leave.

Currently sprawled on the rickety mattress, Eddie holds Mr. Pickles in the air and looks up at him. His trusty plushie is a bit worse for wear, having had his seams sutured with crimson battle vest thread.

“We’re doing it, buddy. We’re finally doing it.”

Shortly after moving in with his uncle, he had trouble falling asleep in the unfamiliar trailer. Wayne, hoping to provide comfort, gifted Eddie the stuffed bunny. It swiftly became a treasured part of his life, symbolizing safety and support—two things he hadn’t received much of up to that point.

The floppy-eared companion got its name from Wayne’s favorite snack. Whenever his uncle would pop the lid on a fresh jar of pickles, young Eddie would erupt into a fit of laughter. He insisted that Wayne was going to transform into a pickle due to how fast he blows through a jar.

In his twenties now, Eddie still cuddles with Mr. Pickles every night. If his pal could talk, he’d tell him how proud he is. Eddie rolls onto his side and nuzzles the bunny’s worn fur. That smile lingers on his face while he drifts off to sleep, now with a sense of hope for the days ahead.

The time has come. Eddie has worn through his entire wardrobe and needs to make a trip to the laundromat. Having a washer in the trailer was something he didn’t fully appreciate until now.

Taking a quick look around his apartment, Eddie spots a cardboard box that’ll suffice in lieu of a laundry basket. He fills the box with the scattered clothes from the floor, slips on his sneakers, and makes his way out onto the street.

Nestled in the heart of his neighborhood, Eddie arrives at his destination. The air carries an overwhelming fresh scent of detergent. It’s not bustling by any means; there are only a handful of people here.

Compared to those who are well-versed in their routine, Eddie feels out of place. He chooses an available machine and plops his box of dirty clothes on the counter behind him. He inspects the front-loading washer, not versed in its functions and operation. Eddie goes to open the machine’s door but it refuses to yield.

His patience wanes with each futile tug. Just as frustration peaks, a sudden realization dawns on him, prompting a blush to sweep across his cheeks. There’s a lock hidden on the flip side of the handle.

With the press of his thumb, the lock disengages and the door screeches open. Hot under the collar, Eddie hastily scoops up his clothes and stuffs them into the damp drum. He slams the door shut with a mechanical click, the sound signaling the lock relatching.

This place lacks helpful signage, to say the least. The only one here displays the cost of running a cycle, but there’s nothing to guide newcomers through the process.

Eddie pulls out his wallet to retrieve a few quarters. After inserting them, he figures out the detergent tray without much trouble. But as Eddie presses the START button repeatedly, increasing his force with each press, the machine stubbornly refuses to respond.

“You have to choose a setting.”

Eddie jumps at the sound of your voice, his brows arched and mouth hanging open. “Huh?”

You walk over from the adjacent wall of driers a few feet away. “It won’t start unless you select a wash setting first.”

He looks at you like a deer-in-the-headlights, so you step in and set the machine to delicate for him. The washer springs to life and water begins to fill the drum.

“Ah, that makes sense,” Eddie says while rubbing the back of his neck. “These are so different from the one I had back home.”

“Where’s home?” You ask, resuming your task of folding your clean laundry on the nearby counter.

Eddie is visibly taken aback by your continued engagement. “A town in Indiana that you’ve definitely never heard of,” He starts to fidget with the detergent jug’s cap, though it’s already sealed.

Suddenly, Eddie feels self-conscious about his appearance. Talking to a cute girl wasn’t on the agenda today, he didn’t dress for this. He regrets choosing function over fashion; his denim shorts are an old pair of Wayne’s jeans that he cropped to wear while mowing lawns. The raw hems are messily frayed and the light blue is darkened with grass stains.

“Indiana, huh? You’re a ways from home then. What brings you to The Windy City?”

Eddie’s attention lands on your pile of clothes, subtly assessing your wardrobe choices. “Uh- just needed a change of pace, I guess.”

“Chasing the dream, right? Figured Chicago had more to offer?” You peek at him, catching his stare fixed on a pair of underwear at the top of the pile—a standard white cotton panty, nothing worth ogling.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, his posture stiffening when you make eye contact. He swallows hard, averts his gaze, and shifts his weight between the balls of his feet. “Something like that.”

“Did you bring your band with you?” You take the undergarment in question and fold it, seemingly unfazed.

As you move the folded pile into your laundry basket, his clothes start thumping inside the machine, causing suds to splash against the glass window.

Eddie’s brows knit together. “How’d you know I have a band?”

“You’ve got the look,” You remark as your eyes travel over him.

He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. “Is that so? Do enlighten me, what’s the dead giveaway?”

“Your hair,” You suggest charmingly.

Eddie swishes his brunette curls like a lady in a shampoo commercial. “Too predictable?”

“I’d say it’s on brand. Let me guess, Slayer? Maybe a little Dio or Megadeth?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at you before looking down at his shoes. “Jesus Christ, you’re reading me like a goddamn book.”

You cock your head to the side, playfulness tugging at your lips. “And if I were to look for this book in a store, what name might I find it under?”

“Eddie,” He lets his arms fall to his sides. When you tell him your name, it bounces around in his head. How pretty, he thinks.

After lifting your full laundry basket, you step away from the counter. “Good luck with the dryers. Oh, and just a heads up, those doors lock too. Don’t go yankin’ the handle off unless you’re looking to take home a souvenir,” You giggle to yourself as you walk out of the laundromat.

Eddie’s mouth hangs open while he watches you leave. Once you’re gone, his attention drifts to the nearby bulletin board. Among the various flyers, one advertises an open mic night. He decides that he’ll check it out sometime this week.

At Double Barrel Bar, Eddie is swallowed by a sea of mainstream nonconformity. The bar-goers are dressed similarly to him, and while the crowd is mostly younger people, they’re still a touch older than him.

A symphony of clinking glasses and animated chatter collides with the thunderous live metal music. The dense haze of tobacco smoke and the distant clatter of pool balls only enrich the ambiance. The walls are adorned with framed music memorabilia and band posters, a mix of global icons and local talents.

Eddie is enveloped with nostalgia. This place reminds him of the gigs he used to play with Corroded Coffin, although they never played for an audience this size. Staring at the stage, he questions whether he could engage such a crowd and persuade them that he’s worth listening to.

Between two other men at the bar, Eddie takes a seat.

Lee, the bartender, greets him. “What can I get ya?”

Eddie shrugs and hooks his sneakers beneath the rung of the stool. “I'll take a cold one, whatever's cheapest.”

“You got it. Bottle or tap?” Lee wipes his hands on the white rag draped over his shoulder.

“Bottle is fine.”

Lee retrieves a bottle of beer and deftly pops the cap before sliding it over to Eddie.

His fingers curl around the icy glass, the condensation cool to the touch. Eddie’s plump lips wrap around the bottle’s rim and he takes his first sip. The crisp liquid trickles down his throat, offering a short-lived remedy for the stuffiness of the room.

As Lee tends to another patron, Eddie fidgets in his seat, causing the flier in his back pocket to crinkle. “So, you host an open mic?”

“Yeah, Thursday through Sunday. Are you any good?” Lee asks.

Eddie flips his guitar pick necklace between his fingers. “I like to think so. I guess you’d have to ask the ants in my kitchen, they’re the closest thing I've had to an audience lately.”

Lee snorts. “I've got a good feeling about you, I’m gonna reserve a spot.”

“Oh, uh- you don't have to do that.”

Lee waves his hand in dismissal and gathers the abandoned glassware from the now-empty seat beside Eddie. “No pressure, just swing by on Thursday if you’re interested.”

The opportunity intrigues Eddie, but performing alone is uncharted territory. Contemplating the offer, Eddie grapples with a cloud of self-doubt looming over his decision.

It’s been two months, and his routine is now established. Each day brings progress and a sense of reward, even though there have been occasional hiccups along the way.

Surviving the sweltering summer with a broken AC was sheer hell. He found himself spending ample time nude in his apartment or standing in front of the open freezer compartment of the refrigerator; sometimes simultaneously. Fortunately, September has arrived, and the temperature has begun to wind down.

Managing expenses requires a frugal approach, given the modest pay from his custodial job. Eddie resorts to taking power showers and using candles to keep his utility bill low.

Sometimes he forgoes meals to keep an extra couple of bucks on hand. But when he does eat, he opts for saltine crackers slathered in butter, bologna sandwiches, canned soups, and plain noodles. Occasionally he treats himself to store-bought pasta sauce, though it’s still the saddest spaghetti known to man.

Eddie faces skepticism from the seasoned artists at the tattoo shop, all military veterans who view him as an arrogant kid. Their perception fuels his determination to prove himself. To earn their respect, he’s dedicated to cleaning more thoroughly than he ever has in his life.

He’s become keenly observant, absorbing every detail of the professional tattooing process, despite never being included in those conversations. Within the circle of artists—Ace, Lunchbox, and Dozer—Eddie gravitates toward Ace, who becomes a mentor. Seeing Eddie’s genuine enthusiasm, Ace asks about his drawing abilities.

Although Eddie’s sketchbook is brimming with fantastical creatures, Ace can recognize a young man’s raw ambition and desire for direction and purpose. He takes Eddie under his wing, allowing him to learn the medium while on the clock.

After taking Lee up on his offer, Eddie found himself on stage every Thursday night. His performances were rusty, as he hadn’t played in front of anyone since before he was working his ass off to get here.

As he strummed through the jitters, Eddie rediscovered the sanctuary that music had always offered. It felt like a part of him had resurrected, reviving the passion he sorely missed.

Playing Thursday nights may not rake in tips like the weekends would, but he’ll take what he can get. Eddie’s been saving up for some pre-owned furniture, and he’s happy to snag any extra cash he can for it.

Life is good right now. The worry about moving back home has lessened, and he’s genuinely amazed at how smoothly things are going. Just when Eddie thought things couldn’t get any better, a Saturday night slot opened up at the bar.

It would be twice as busy, packed from wall to wall with people who could bare witness to him fucking up. Doubt crept its way in, but when Lee mentioned that Eddie could pocket thirty-five bucks or more by the night’s end, it was a no-brainer.

Tonight marks his debut Saturday gig. Stepping through the red brick archway and out onto the stage, the creak of the rustic boards beneath his feet sends a ripple up his legs. Eddie hasn’t even made it to the mic and he’s already forgotten what foot he’s supposed to be stepping with next.

Beneath his t-shirt, his back grows slick. A lump lodges itself in Eddie’s throat, causing his voice to crack when he introduces himself to the room. Amidst the overlapping conversations and the flushing from the nearby restroom, the amassed noise seems muffled. The strong winds in his head distort the sounds, whirling like a twister.

Eddie hooks his guitar up to the amp and forces himself to take a deep breath. As he tunes his instrument, the upheaval begins to settle. Gradually, Eddie finds unity with his guitar and concentrates on perfecting the tone.

Throughout the performance, there’s a persistent undertow of nerves refusing to fully subside. In spite of his efforts to lose himself in the music, his fingers occasionally falter as they dance on the strings.

At the end of his set, Lee can be heard whooping and hollering over the sparse clapping. With a sense of relief, Eddie packs up and makes a beeline for the bar, eager to ease the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Normally, the rush is akin to a high, but this time around it’s so intense that he’s dying to dial it back a notch.

He splurges and orders something a bit fancier than his usual bland beer. Why not celebrate a little? Eddie claims a recently vacated table in the bustling crowd, seating himself on the leather stool adorned with studs. His eyes roam the room while he takes a swig of his drink, savoring the superior crisp taste.

His attention zeroes in on a figure just feet away, a quick recognition igniting in his mind. Eddie recognizes you instantly, due to the scarcity of memorable encounters he’s had.

Eddie observes from afar, observing your mannerisms as you execute your waitressing duties. You must only work weekends, which would explain why your paths haven’t crossed again until now. When your eyes meet his, a shock shoots through his body.

He sits in rapt anticipation as you make your way over. Time seems to stretch unbearably from your previous spot until you finally stand opposite of him, separated only by the circular wooden table.

A courteous smile graces your face—a skill that waitresses must master if they want to pay rent. “Ready for another?”

Eddie stares back at you. His eyes drift down to the almost full beer bottle in his hand. The cogs in his skull are scraping, unable to put the words you’ve said to him in a comprehensive order. He nods without making a peep.

You pivot to leave, but then turn back to him and lift a brow at his unaltered dumbstruck expression. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you don’t look it.”

He remains silent and shakes his head sheepishly, feeling foolish for agreeing to another beer and then changing his mind just because you asked again. Is there more dignity in being indecisive than a bumbling mess?

“You were just singing up there for nearly an hour,” you call him out, folding your arms and tucking your serving tray against your side. “I know you can talk.”

Eddie clears his throat, but he ends up making an odd sound. “Uh, my throat’s a bit sore, that’s all.”

“Did you forget to do your vocal warm-ups or what?”

“It probably sounded like I did,” Eddie laughs, the self-deprecation evident.

“Not at all, I thought you were great.”

“You did?” Eddie’s lips curl at your compliment. Heat blooms on his cheeks, amplifying the full-body perspiration. He takes a casual sip from his beer, a guise to moisten his dry mouth and escape your intimidating gaze.

“Totally, you really come alive when you’re up there,” you rest your forearms on the table’s edge. “Is it just Eddie, or do you go by a stage name?”

No way. There’s no fucking way that you remember him, his face is so forgettable it’s not even funny. Lee had to have said something about who was filling the Saturday night spot. Eddie is inwardly thrilled to hear his name roll off of your tongue, but he tries to maintain his composure. “I suppose not, I guess I never thought about it.”

“You could pull it off, it suits the whole ‘one-man show’ thing you’ve got going on,” You say while giving him a once-over. The intrigue on your face is unwavering as you walk away.

He’s drunk, he has to be. Or maybe his drink was spiked somehow. The room is spinning and he feels nauseous as all hell, despite only having taken a few swigs from his beer.

A short while later, Eddie’s bottle is half-empty as he sits, continuously replaying the moment in his mind. More specifically, he can’t stop thinking about the sparkle in your eyes; he’s never seen anything like it.

He snaps back from his daydream at the sight of your return, this time with an unopened beer in hand. Eddie looks nothing short of puzzled as you slide it across the table toward him. “Uh, no thanks, I’m-”

“Relax, it’s not for you. I’ll be clocking out in six minutes. I wanna hear more about that small town of yours. I mean, as long as that’s okay with you. I understand if you have other plans tonight.”

“No!” Eddie exclaims. “I mean, yes it’s more than okay, and no, I don’t have anywhere to be.”

You glance downward while scuffing your shoe against the floor. “Okay, cool. Keep it cold for me then?”

“Yeah, for sure. You can count on me.”

Shit shit shit. How is he going to keep this beer cold? Of course, ways to heat it flood his mind. If you come back to a lukewarm beer, that’ll be the end of him. He’s going to fuck this up and any chance of getting to know you will be squashed.

When you join him again, your drink is still cold and the bottle has left a ring of moisture on the paper coaster. Eddie’s unsure of how he managed to not lose it; if he’s capable of anything, it’s misplacing something when his only responsibility is to keep it in his possession.

As you slide onto the stool beside him, you’re quick to inquire. You ask him typical ice-breaker questions at first, and Eddie responds with a plethora of details. At times, he goes off on tangents. You don’t appear bothered by it.

Eddie talks about his ability to learn how to play songs by ear, and he delves into the intricacies of his favorite Dungeons & Dragons campaigns that he’s created over the years. He earnestly tries to convey its depth to you and throughout his ramblings, he doesn’t miss the concentrated look on your face as you try to keep up.

Lee is nearing the end of his cleaning routine and the other waitresses have left for the night. Neither of you is aware that the bar is devoid of a crowd, scorching lights, and blaring music.

Eddie has been too busy asking you about your origins and passions, his wide eyes and attentive demeanor affirming his genuine interest. Just as he mentions working at the shop and you’ve asked him how many tattoos he has, you’re interrupted.

Lee stands beside the table, armed with a damp rag and a spray bottle. “Awfully hard to wipe the seats when your asses are still on them. Scoot your booch,” Lee instructs by motioning toward the entrance.

Eddie doesn’t hesitate to slip off his stool. You, on the other hand, take your sweet time.

“Have a good night,” You say and give Lee’s shoulder a friendly pat.

Uncertain of his next move, Eddie hesitates while you make your way to an unmarked door. It’s half past two in the morning, and he feels a tug of concern about you leaving by yourself.

There’s a very good chance that you’d consider him clingy or intrusive if he waits here. Eddie opts to stand outside. He props himself against the building and idly nudges a loose chunk of concrete with his shoe to keep himself occupied. Soon after, you emerge into the night.

The slam of the heavy door prompts him to straighten up. “Hey.”

“Oh, I thought you left,” you admit and adjust your purse strap on your shoulder. “Thanks for telling me about Hawkins the Hell Hole.”

“The pleasure was all mine. Do you, uh…” Eddie inches forward, his Reeboks scraping loudly on the pavement. “Would you like me to walk you home? It’s pretty late.”

“I don’t live far, it’s just a few blocks.’

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you around then?”

Your eyes twinkle brighter than he’d previously seen. “I’d say the odds are in your favor.”

“Goodnight. Get home safe,” He says with a half-hearted bow.

“Likewise,” You reply, biting back a giggle.

Eddie watches you fade into the darkness along the unlit patches of sidewalk. Once you’ve turned the corner, Eddie smiles from the surreal sensation of floating on clouds.

In this moment, the feeling of joy is so potent that it’s borderline palpable. He’s the embodiment of elation, a soul soaring high. It’s a feeling he wishes he could bottle up and carry with him forever.

The next Saturday plays out much like the previous one, save for one detail: it’s considerably tougher to concentrate on stage knowing who’s in the audience. Post-performance, the routine echoes that of the prior week. The two of you gravitate toward the same table as before, establishing it as the one you’ll always sit at.

At first, a hesitation lingers before diving into more personal topics. However, as the night progresses and more beers are consumed, you seamlessly fall into them. Eddie weaves elements of drama and romanticism into his past, making it utterly engrossing for you to listen to.

When you propose getting together outside of the confines of the bar for the first time, Eddie eagerly accepts your invitation to show him around since he has yet to do any sightseeing.

Eddie is swept up in an exuberant wave of boyish excitement, and it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt. He never experienced it during his teenage years like the average person. The sheer thrill of having an instant connection with a girl is an entirely new feeling for him.

Week after week, your laundry days are synchronized and you’ve started the habit of making silly faces or giving each other the finger just because. During the late nights spent together at Dove’s Diner, Eddie finds enjoyment in seeing you eat. It’s a peculiar fascination, but it makes him happy. Seeing you completely at ease while enjoying greasy food is endearing to him.

When he arrived in Chicago, Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling of not wanting to move back to Hawkins. Even so, he wasn’t experiencing the same comfort here as he did in that cramped trailer.

There was a longing for familiarity that he had in his old surroundings. Eddie didn’t want to have to go back home in order to feel that sense of belonging again. He had his doubts about ever truly adjusting to life here until you came along. In your company, the foreignness of the city fades away, replaced by that feeling he’s been missing.

Several times, he’s been working in his sketchbook, adding to the pin-up style figures and faces that bear a striking resemblance to you. While engrossed in drawing, he hadn’t picked up on the similarities. But when he absentmindedly drew a simple heart, that's when it occurred to him.

Eddie like-likes you.

As your shift comes to an end, you head to the back room to gather your belongings. Eddie stands idly at your claimed table, picking at his hangnails while he waits.

“When’re you gonna ask her out?” Lee asks while tidying up nearby.

Eddie laughs heartily at the idea. “How about never.”

“You should. I can tell she’s into you.”

“Yeah, right. I don’t stand a chance.”

Lee puts down his spray bottle and looks at Eddie. “Listen, I’ve known her for a while now. Trust me on this,” he dumps a used ashtray out into a trash bag.

Eddie emits a noise of disbelief, his mind flickering back to the painful lesson he learned in his youth—he’s no one's type. Lost in reflection, he doesn’t realize you’ve returned with your sweatshirt draped over your bent arm.

Despite the tiring evening, you're upbeat in his presence. “Okay, I’m ready! I was thinking we could get some takeout and watch TV at my place.”

“Sure, I could eat,” Eddie says with a grin. Lee is shaking his head, looking particularly smug.

Your apartment is the polar opposite of Eddie’s, the difference is like day and night. It has a homey atmosphere and there’s a notable absence of wear and tear. He does have band posters, framed personal photos, and furniture, but they fail to create the same inviting ambiance that your apartment effortlessly exudes.

Seated beside Eddie on your couch, you tease him. “You’re terrible at this.”

“I’m trying!” He attempts to mimic your technique, but the piece of chicken repeatedly falls from his chopsticks.

“I can see that,” you stifle a laugh. “And you’re total shit at it.”

Out of frustration, Eddie impales his sweet and sour chicken with both sticks.

Glancing your way, he catches you smiling ear to ear, watching him. Eddie smiles back as he chews. “What? This way works just as well.”

You laugh and refocus your on the TV while resuming your meal. Eddie swears that you’re sitting closer to him than when you first sat down. Your thigh is almost touching his and your shoulder is just as close.

The paranoia subsides as he gets lost in thinking about how he can feel the heat radiating off of your bare thigh. But Eddie’s pulled back to reality when your chopsticks cut across his vision and dig into his takeout box.

He doesn’t mind, not really; sharing is caring. Having said that, when you lean over to look into the box, your shoulder bumps against his. A particularly appreciative sound escapes your lips, one that’s borderline pornographic.

“That’s really good, I’ll have to get some next time,” you hum and place your takeout box on the coffee table. “Or I could just keep stealing yours, it tastes better that way.”

Eddie is frozen, eyes unblinking. As you return to your spot on the sofa, you’re unquestionably closer this time. Your beautiful skin is on display in those shorts of yours and your bare thigh is brushing against his own. He could choke on air right now if he were still breathing.

You look over at him, your brow furrowed. “You good?”

“Yeah, yep. All good,” Eddie avoids making eye contact and stares blankly ahead. “Peachy keen.”

“Okay, weirdo,” you brush off his abrupt awkwardness and scoot toward the edge of the cushion. After gathering your trash, you look at him. “All finished?”

“Mhm,” He replies weakly and extends his box toward you.

With your arms full, you head into the kitchen, leaving him by his lonesome in the living room.

Eddie releases a heavy sigh and drags his hands down his face. Your absence allows him to reenter his body, but it only makes him keenly aware of his not-so-subtle half hard-on that’s outlined through the thin fabric of his shorts.

His eyes widen in alarm and panic takes over. “Shit!” Frantically brainstorming ways to conceal it, Eddie spots a fuzzy blanket at the far end of the couch and he retrieves it, draping it over his lap. While he tries to make himself look as casual as possible, he catches a glimpse of your approaching shadow just before the kitchen light is switched off.

In the few seconds he has left, Eddie tries out various hand placements, but none feel quite right. Every position feels forced and conspicuous.

As you stride back to the couch, your sweet expression eases some of the tension in his bones. “I got a bit chilly,” Eddie blurts out, hoping to preempt any impending questioning. “Is it okay if I use this?”

“No, I’m totally gonna tell you that you can’t use a blanket for its sole purpose.”

Eddie laughs nervously, “Alright, alright.”

This is arguably worse, being wrapped in your scent. It’s awfully hard not to get any harder when your natural smell is flooding his head. It’s intoxicating, and he finds himself inhaling deeply to capture as much of it as he can.

“What’d I miss?” You ask while plopping back down beside him.

The continuous movement causes Eddie to clench his back molars together because an image surges before he can even think to suppress it. He’d bet all the money he has that you’d look stunning on top of him. There’s fantasy looming alongside the image; Eddie wonders what you look like beneath your clothes.

“Nothing, you didn’t miss anything,” He mutters. When you start to squirm against the back of the couch, Eddie shoots you a questioning look. “You got ants in your pants?”

You huff, “No, there’s an itchy spot on my back. Could you scratch it for me, please? It’s driving me nuts.”

“Oh, um, sure,” Eddie fumbles for words as you angle yourself and present your back to him. “Where is it?”

“Right between my shoulder blades.”

Eddie’s eyes zero in on the outline of your bra strap that’s visible through your shirt across your back. Given his luck, that would be the target. Just to be cautious, he starts by scratching at the higher middle part of your back.

“A little lower.”

Eddie swallows hard as his fingers tentatively inch their way down. His belly begins to swirl the closer he gets to the clasp, but thankfully, you stop him just before he reaches it.

“Right there! Yeah, harder.”

If this goes on too much longer, Eddie could very well pass out. But, per your request, he applies more pressure. Beneath the blanket, the discomfort has only intensified—his arousal is now raging with a persistent ache.

“Oh my god, finally,” You say appreciatively and settle back into a more relaxed position.

The overwhelming urge to touch himself skyrockets as his body begs for friction. Eddie repositions himself to adjust the blanket, hoping to keep his erection concealed. From the corner of his eye, his gaze drifts along your figure, pausing at the rise and fall of your diaphragm as you watch TV.

A jagged breath falls from his lips, but he’s determined to clear his mind. Realizing that he can’t leave here tonight with your blanket as a shield, he has to find a way to distract himself by the end of this program.

Miraculously, he survived. Now lying in his bed, Eddie is surrounded by the darkness, save for the glow of the moon and the faint residual light from the streetlamps filtering through the broken blinds. Eddie stares up at the ceiling while his mostly naked body responds to the vivid recollections swarming his train of thought.

On any ordinary day, Eddie would resort to the routine of using his hand and lotion to relieve himself. Be that as it may, the stirring in his core demands a different sensation.

With the thought of you weighing heavily on his mind, there’s an alternative means by which he’s going to alleviate the frustration and desire that’s grown too loud to ignore. Eddie, already shirtless, yanks his boxers off in a swift motion and kicks them off carelessly. Moving onto his knees, he leans over the edge of his bed and retrieves a pillow from the floor.

He sits back on his heels in the middle of his bed and contorts the stuffing with intent. For a moment, he’s not sure how he wants to use it. His body’s impatience grows, causing his erection to bob expectantly.

Eddie licks his lips in anticipation and sets the bent pillow down with the bend facing him. With one hand, he firmly holds the makeshift toy in place. With his other, he strokes himself languidly, blotting the fabric of the pillowcase with precum as he taps his cock against it repeatedly.

Experimentally, Eddie rolls his hips downward, thrusting the sensitive underside of his length against the smooth material. His eyes fall closed, and he can’t seem to pick just one aspect of you to fantasize about, not when every inch of you is so captivating. Eddie grunts, “Yeah, you like that?”

He adjusts his hips, angling them lower to get more friction. The heat blooming causes Eddie’s jaw to go slack. The usual five or six minutes have been halved as the thought of your smile makes Eddie embarrassingly close already.

Wanting to get in a few more thrusts before he’s spent, Eddie pistons himself against the pillow. “Tell me how badly you want me, I wanna hear you say it.”

With one fist continuing to pin the pillow down against the mattress, Eddie trails his other hand up his pale, slender stomach. He digs his gnawed-down nails into his skin, leaving red streaks behind, as he tries to imagine it as your touch. Eddie doesn’t know what it would feel like if it wasn’t his hand, but the thought of you is more than enough.

Devoid of any visual aid, the absence of a magazine or porno tape isn’t hindering him. Typically, when Eddie only has his imagination to utilize, he can beat off without finishing until he eventually gets bored and gives up.

This time it’s different. As his thoughts run wild, Eddie’s rhythm falters. The bed frame squeaks, and the wood shifts while he thrusts as hard as he can.

“Uhhh,” A coarse moan pours from his throat as his cum shoots onto the pillow. Eddie’s thrusts slow to a stop and he pants. The tension in his abdomen gradually subsides as he floats his way back down to earth.

His eyes flutter open, and he’s faced with the mess he made. “Fuckin’ hell,” With a sigh, Eddie decides that he’ll deal with it tomorrow.

After changing into fresh boxers, he chugs down a glass of tap water. Utterly exhausted, Eddie collapses back onto his bed. The aged frame creaks in protest to his abrupt flop. The intensity has been burned away, and what lingers is rawness.

Here’s the thing, Eddie has a way with words, and his unconventional charm comes without a second thought. But conveying himself physically is a different story. His upbringing lacked affection, and consequently, Eddie was robbed of particular milestones. Among those missed moments was sitting on the grass beneath a starry night sky on summer night.

Eddie never got to pluck the green blades from the ground as he gathered the courage to have his first kiss. He hasn’t so much as held someone’s hand before.

With Mr. Pickles tucked under his chin, a wave washes over his heart, wading him further into the tide of ache. Eddie may be inexperienced but he’s not stupid. He’s picking up what you’re putting down. Your persistent hints practically scream at him to make a move.

But your persistence only worsens the anxiety because Eddie’s not sure that he can take the leap like you want him to. It’s not that he doesn’t want you, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s uncertainty about what to do if he gets to be with you.

Eddie’s drawn to you, his poor pillow could tell you that much. This isn’t the first night he’s spent laying here trying to talk some sense into himself. When he practices being smooth instead of awkward, Eddie struggles to navigate through the hypothetical scenarios that he’s in complete control of.

If his bedroom walls could speak, they’d tell of those nights. But after the sinful act he just committed, they have a hell of a lot more to say. Those bold utterances were far from who he is. It was a facade, a portrayal of a self-assured man he’ll never embody.

Talking dirty made him feel powerful in the moment because the mask allowed him to avoid facing how he truly feels about you. At his core, what Eddie craves is to baby you, he wants to show you that he can be sensitive. He’d die on the spot to see you in a state of delight from being showered with adoration.

Eddie closes his eyes and envisions a world where he can be what you want. He’d never be oblivious to having food in his teeth, and he’d never push a door that should be pulled. This false reality is one where he doesn’t disappoint you by shying away from your advances. It’s unrealistic, he’s just not wired that way.

During his younger years, Eddie endured the worst of taunting. The other kids mocked his short frizzy curls by referring to it as a “rat’s nest.” They told him that he’d resemble a troll until his dying days. It was ingrained into him that he was unworthy of any form of love—be it familial, platonic, or romantic. The remarks made about Eddie’s prominent nose convinced him that he was a walking safety hazard and he’d poke someone’s eye out if he ever dared to kiss them.

In the seventh grade, Eddie hit a breaking point. He was fed up with having chewing gum put into his curls. There are too many times to count where Wayne sat for hours with a jar of peanut butter, attempting to free the cemented wads from his nephew’s locks. One day, Eddie stood in front of the mirror in the cramped bathroom and cried at the discovery of another bright pink clump of gum tangled in his hair.

It may have been just one piece at that time, but it was the final straw. Out of desperation, Eddie did the only thing he felt would solve the problem for good. By taking matters into his own hands, he used the clippers to give himself a buzz-cut. As chestnut-colored locks cascaded down, settling atop the sink and his feet, the damage was done.

Wayne lent a hand in handling the patchy spots in the back of Eddie’s head that he couldn’t quite reach. The impromptu solution worked as he’d hoped, but it only opened the door to different torment.

The following school day, his classmates didn’t hold back, likening his appearance to that of an inmate waiting to meet Old Sparky, or cruelly suggesting that he resembles his imprisoned father.

Eddie quickly came to understand that he was never going to be the guy girls wished would ask them to the dance. The scars of rejection were etched into his self-esteem, and since then, he’s come to terms with his inadequacy.

Perhaps you’re interested in Eddie because there are still things you don’t know about him. Surely, once you learn how unworthy he is, you’ll laugh in his face just as the others did.

Tonight he’s shielded from the nightlife commotion inside his van, parked along the curb outside your apartment. He sits patiently, watching the pine tree-shaped air freshener gently sway with the feeble push of air from the AC vents.

It’s Friday night, and there’s nothing he’d rather do than spend it with you. Eddie directs his attention toward your building as you descend the steps of your apartment’s stoop.

Eddie detects the effort, even from afar. Your shoes look new and you’re wearing more makeup than he’s used to seeing you in. These differences have him pondering the significance behind the deliberate choices.

When Eddie casually suggested catching a movie a few days ago, he hadn’t thought much of it. To him, it was merely something you hadn't done together. He didn’t think twice when you got so excited about seeing a late-night showing of Die Hard.

It’s dawning on him that it wasn’t because you’re a big Bruce Willis fan. The reason you’re all gussied up is because this is a date. He asked you out on a date.

This is not a problem, per se. Eddie’s thrilled about going on his very first date, but fear also has him in a chokehold because he’s unprepared.

Wayne never took the time to give his nephew the lowdown on dating. It didn’t come up because Eddie never displayed interest or curiosity about it.

He’s at a loss. Eddie doesn’t know how to carry himself, he doesn’t have a clue about what’s considered proper etiquette beyond what he’s seen on TV and in movies. Are those even reliable sources?

As you cross the sidewalk in his direction, Eddie’s palms grow slick. It suddenly registers that he should be outside, ready to hold the car door open for you. But before he can act on this realization, you swiftly swing the door open and slip onto the passenger seat.

"Hi," You chirp, the sound almost a squeak as you close the car door behind you. You subtly adjust the bottom of your dress before securing your seatbelt.

“Hey,” Eddie’s eyes wander over your body until he finds himself admiring your bare knees.

With a jolt, his eyes snap back to your face, only for you to be watching him with a pleased expression adorning your features.

Eddie clears his throat and busies himself with turning over the ignition. “You look nice,” he scrunched his face. “Pretty! I meant to say you look pretty.”

"Thanks," you reply appreciatively and inspect your freshly painted nails to ensure they’ve withstood the indecisive wardrobe changes of the past half hour.

Throughout the brief drive, engaging in small talk grants Eddie a temporary respite from his brain being in overdrive. Determined to maintain composure, he makes a conscious effort to avoid looking your way.

Eddie successfully carries the conversation as you enter the lobby and get through the refreshments line. Luckily, you secure the last two seats at the end of a row; he’d have been mortified if the theater was oversold and there weren’t any seats left.

The first half of the movie goes as one would expect; you’re comfortably seated beside him, occasionally whispering commentary to each other. Meanwhile, Eddie shovels fistfuls of over-buttered and under-salted popcorn into his mouth, crunching away as the scenes progress on the screen before him.

But then there’s a subtle shift in your body language. He assumes that your inability to sit still might be caused by the need for a restroom break. That is until your knee gradually inches closer to his.

The film has become an afterthought as Eddie watches you place your hand on your thigh, noticeably close to his own that’s casually hanging off of the armrest. It’s impossible to differentiate the pounding pulse in his ears from the blasts of gunfire booming through the theater.

When your fingertips graze his, Eddie rips his hand away to reach for the bucket of popcorn that’s resting in the ditch of his opposite arm. “Want some?” he fails to whisper while offering the bucket to you.

The explosive flashes of red and yellow harshly illuminate your face and without a word, you shake your head and go back to the movie.

Eddie puts the bucket back where it was, and in the hopes of distracting himself from the guilty tingle in his feet, he fidgets with his wristwatch. Repeatedly, Eddie clasps and unclasps it, making the strap incredibly loose and uncomfortably tight around his wrist.

A few minutes go by and without warning, his heart stops because you unexpectedly rest your head on his shoulder.

As if struck by lightning, Eddie leaps to his feet. The motion launches the bucket of popcorn into the air, and the people in the row in front of you are showered with kernels. He's as stiff as a board as he’s confronted with mild uproar and a chorus of expletives.

Red-faced and unsure of whom to apologize to first, Eddie turns to you. “Shit! I’ll go get another one,” He doesn’t wait for your response and rushes down the stairs, practically leaping over them two at a time.

After bursting through the double doors and out into the empty hallway, Eddie brings his palm to his forehead, his other hand propped on his hip while he paces. Once he’s able to collect himself, Eddie heads toward the lobby, only to find that everything is powered down.

Eddie decides to use the little time he has to rehearse what he’ll say. There might not be anything he can do to play off his peculiar behavior; at least, nothing that he can think of at the moment.

As he shows up empty-handed, Eddie doesn’t overlook your rigid posture. Your left leg is crossed over your right, pointing away from him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re just upset that he wasted the popcorn and didn't get more.

In your lack of questioning, Eddie feels compelled to explain himself. “Concessions were closed, so…” He gestures with upturned palms, but you don’t acknowledge that he’s spoken or come back.

Not having received a response, Eddie resorts to chewing on his thumbnail and his leg bounces in tandem. Lost in his head, he finds it increasingly difficult to focus on the remainder of the movie.

Exiting the theater and stepping out into the parking lot, Eddie’s voice lacks confidence as he walks alongside you. “What’d ya think? I give it a solid six out of ten.”

You reply with a casual shrug and wrap your arms around yourself. “It was alright.”

“How ‘bout I treat you to Dove’s? Wanna go for a bite?” Eddie suggests to salvage the remainder of the evening.

“I’ll pass. I’m not hungry,” you say curtly, taking a step ahead to open the passenger door for yourself, denying Eddie a second chance to hold it open for you.

“Oh,” Eddie begins, but his sentence is severed by the slam of the door. “Okay,” he finishes with a sigh.

During the drive back to your neighborhood, the air feels dense. The radio commercials do little to fill the space between you.

Upon the front tire nudging the curb, you get out of the van before Eddie has put it in park. He hurriedly follows suit, rushing over to catch up with you as you head toward your front steps.

“I had a good time tonight. Did you?” Eddie blurts out.

Pausing in your steps, you turn around and face him. “Yeah, I guess.”

Knowing that he’s the cause of your deflated spirit punches a pang to his chest. Eddie offers a gentle expression. “Would you wanna go again sometime? Probably best if you hold the popcorn though,” he chuckles uncomfortably.

“Night, Eddie,” You say with finality before letting yourself into your apartment.

Once you’ve gone inside, dejection overtakes Eddie’s features. “Goodnight,” he mutters to himself, biting the inside of his cheek.

Sifting through the mental archive of wisdom passed down by Wayne, Eddie desperately rummages for any guidance that could apply to his current situation.

Eddie has officially had the world’s worst date, and it very well could be the only one he’ll ever get to go on. It only hurts more that the outcome was entirely his fault.

You’re avoiding him, that much is obvious. You stopped showing up to do laundry together and while he performs, you intentionally keep your back turned to the stage.

After your Saturday shifts end, you no longer stick around to hang out with Eddie, instead choosing to leave with your fellow waitresses.

One would think that it was a tough decision, but it makes perfect sense to him. Eddie gives up playing on Saturdays to avoid crossing paths with you. He reverts to his old spot on Thursday nights.

It’s a way to protect himself while making things easier for you. He can’t fathom how repulsed you are by his presence at this point.

Eddie sits at the folding table in his living room, his feet hooked with one another. The blaring thrash metal fills the room as he meticulously drafts tattoo concepts, completely absorbed in his sketchbook.

The incessant ringing of the telephone hardly cuts through the music. Eddie ignores it for the first two rings and lets out a reluctant huff before pausing the tape and picking up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Heyyy, can you come get me?” Your cheerful request weaves through the lively chatter and honking car horns in the background.

Not having seen you in two weeks, your voice hits him like a wall. “What for?”

“M’ready to go home.”

Eddie reads his watch and leans against the wall. “I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“You know what, forget it. I’ll just walk home.”

“Absolutely fucking not. What bar are you at?”

“Errr, The Dugout I think.”

“Stay put, alright? Wait for me inside, I’ll be there in a few,” After hanging up, he recklessly shoves his feet into his Reeboks and snatches his car keys from the counter.

Eddie arrives, expecting you to be inside. But there you are, sitting on the curb, right where you shouldn’t be. He calls out to you and jogs over, dodging a few bar-goers on the way.

At first, you turn your head the wrong way when you hear your name called. When you spot him, you scramble upright. “You came for me!” Excitedly, you raise your hands above your head and it slightly throws off your balance.

“Holy shit, you’re plastered,” Eddie half-scoffs, half-laughs. His eyes roam your body, and he immediately takes notice of your scraped and bloodied knees. “Jesus, what happened?”

“Huh?” you ask, your drunken buoyancy unaffected by his evident concern. Following his guided point, you simply shrug. “I dunno, can’t remember.”

“You’re not here by yourself, are you?” Eddie scans the area, looking for any signs of someone accompanying you.

“Mmm... no, well yes. My girlfriends were here but they left.”

Eddie scoffs, “You’ve got some shitty friends.”

“Good thing I have you. My very own knight in shining armor is here to rescue me!”

“That tower of yours must’ve had quite the mini bar, princess,” Eddie remarks.

“Let’s go,” Eddie instructs, heading toward his van with the assumption that you’re following. Peeking over his shoulder, you’re practically tripping over your own feet.

The long strap of your purse slides off your shoulder, snags on your bent elbow, and the bag thuds against your calf.

“What am I gonna do with you, hmm?” He steps back, takes hold of your purse, and throws it over his shoulder. Then, he wraps his arm around your waist and holds you snugly to his side, determined to get you home safely by whatever means necessary. After helping you into the passenger seat, he reaches over to fasten your seatbelt. “No hurling in here, got it?”

“Yes, sir,” you salute before sitting back so that your head is supported by the headrest.

Getting you up the stairs was the hard part. He unlocks the apartment door and gently steers you toward the bathroom.

You make a feeble attempt to resist, grasping onto the door frame before finally yielding to your waning strength.

Eddie lets go of you and begins to rummage in search of supplies.

“Okay, Eddie Bear. I’m ready for my bath,” You slur, leaning against the wall for support as you start to ease yourself into the tub.

“Eddie Bear, huh? That’s new,” he snorts before glancing over. “Oh, no you don’t. C’mere,” Eddie grasps you by the waist once more, guiding you to sit on the closed toilet seat.

With both hands, he cradles your booze-warmed cheeks, unintentionally pushing your lips into a pout. “Stay put, would ya?”

Mumbling to himself, Eddie goes back to gathering the first aid supplies. “I look away for two goddamn seconds. Nothing but trouble, I swear.”

The pout doesn’t leave your face and you cross your arms with an annoyed huff. As the seconds pass, it's as though there’s elevator music playing in your head while you wait for something to happen.

Eddie crouches at your feet. “So, what’s your justification for getting shit-faced on a weeknight?” The tip of his tongue peeks out from between his lips as he begins wiping away the dried blood on your knees with a damp cloth.

“Boys are dumb, that’s why.”

“I know, aren’t they just the worst?” Eddie concurs with a hum. He stands to rinse the cloth, washes his hands, and then fully gets to his knees on the tile floor to apply ointment.

“Yeah, they are,” Your voice trails off as you look at his fingers resting firmly on your thigh, just above your knee, to prevent any inadvertent movement.

Engrossed in your own little world, you start humming an improvised tune. “Like them so much,” you sing-song to yourself.

Eddie glances up at you briefly. “What’s that?”

“Your hands,” you explain and poke each of his knuckles with your index finger. “You’ve got such nice fingies.”

“Fingies?” Eddie smiles as he secures bandages over both of your knees. He withdraws his touch from your thigh and he takes hold of your hand, turning it palm-side up.

“Mhm, the nicest.”

“Yours are nice too,” he comments as he cleans the scrape on the heel of your hand. As Eddie admires the intricate lines and wrinkles across your palm, he inadvertently brushes the cloth directly against your wound.

You make a high-pitched fuss in reaction to the sudden contact, reflexively pulling your hand away.

“Shit, sorry,” Eddie apologizes earnestly. He applies the ointment before applying a bandage. Rising to his feet, he theatrically brushes off his hands. “There, good as new.”

You reach out to him in a toddler-like manner and make grabby hands at him.

Eddie laughs and leans against the door frame. “I’m not carrying you. Brush your teeth so we can get you into bed.”

“You’re no fun,” you groan while you stand awkwardly, the bandages restricting full movement. You wet your toothbrush and squeeze toothpaste onto it, making sure to shoot a scowl at Eddie as you do.

After lackadaisically brushing your teeth, you plop the brush back into its cup. “There, squeaky clean. Happy?”

“As a clam,” Eddie says with a grin. He steps back to allow you out of the bathroom. “Go put your PJs on.”

With a dismissive wave, you drag your feet to your room and begin to dig through your dresser drawer.

Just as he’s about to start picking up after himself, he’s interrupted.

“Eddie,” You call out defeatedly.

“Yeah?” When he doesn’t receive an immediate response, he cautiously steps into the doorway of your room. There you stand, still wearing your dress.

“I can’t reach it,” You say, turning your back to him and bowing your head slightly, signaling that you need his assistance.

Eddie swallows hard and mutters under his breath, “Right, the zipper,” Stepping into the room, his hands start to tremble.

Now positioned behind you, he carefully takes hold of the small piece of metal. Despite the trembling, Eddie tries his best not to make contact with your skin as it’s revealed by the descending zipper.

Dizziness consumes him as his eyes flit between your shoulder blades. Once your dress is completely unzipped, Eddie takes a significant step backward, putting distance between the two of you. “Is that all you need?”

You return to sifting through your pajama options. “I think so.”

Eddie retreats to the bathroom. The image of your bare back is seared into his memory, he’s just gonna have to live with it etched into his mind forever.

After regaining his composure, he locates some aspirin and fills a drinking glass with water. “Are you decent?” Eddie asks hesitantly, not daring to step closer to the threshold without receiving confirmation.

“Uh huh,” You mumble, flopping onto your bed and committing to the first position you land in.

Holding the cup of water and two tablets of pain relief, Eddie re-enters your bedroom. He finds you sprawled and droopy-eyed lying on your back.

Eddie’s chunky metal rings clink against the glass when he sets it down on your nightstand. “I think you’ll appreciate this little visit from the aspirin fairy come morning. You’re gonna feel like shit.”

“Okay,” you murmur, your attention glued to how his strong nose casts a shadow on his cheek in the glow of your bedside lamp. Flipping onto your side facing the door, you yawn and stretch your toes.

Eddie gathers the jumbled blanket from the other side of the bed and drapes it over you, covering you up to your shoulders with care.

Although he wants to, he refrains from tucking you in, concerned that you might trip or get more hurt if you need to get up. “Well, goodnight.”

Just as Eddie turns to leave, your weak grasp seizes his hand before he’s out of reach. It stops him in his tracks, and his gaze follows the path from your joined hands, tracing up your arm until his eyes meet yours.

Fighting to keep your eyes open, you’re teetering on the edge of consciousness. “I don’t want you to go.”

He returns without needing any further invitation and sits on the edge of the bed by your belly. Releasing his hand, you rub your eye before tucking your fist beside your head.

Looking down at you affectionately, a grin graces Eddie’s face. He watches as your eyelids flutter closed, and your breathing becomes slow and steady. “Such a sleepy girl.”

With your eyes cemented closed, you adjust your head on the pillow before drifting off to sleep. Eddie stays put for a minute or two, simply admiring you. He’s never seen something so precious.

His heartbeat rattles his ribs, just as it did the first time he saw you waitressing at Double Barrel. That static-like tingling plagues his extremities as an old thought resurfaces. In those conversations where you shared your life stories, Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to be kissed by you.

Eddie’s eyes brim with tears at the fact that his presence is solely due to your inebriation, and this closeness it’s about to expire. “God,” he exhales, rolling his eyes skyward to hold back his tears.

“Sleep tight, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, pulling the blanket a touch higher over your shoulder. Then, he switches off the lamp and leaves you to rest.

Dwelling on the fact that you won’t remember tonight won’t do him any good. Getting this close to you would have never happened in sober circumstances. At least he got to take care of you in the way he always wanted, even if only for a short time.

Over the past few days, Eddie has been thinking about how he felt when you relied on him to get you home. He’s curious whether the call you made to him signifies that you still want him in your life. If that happens to be the case, then he can work with that.

Going through with this might worsen the sting of rejection, but Eddie has his heart set on mending things.

Within moments of entering the bar and scouring the room for you, he spots you conversing with Lee about a table’s order. Eddie begins to pat his thighs in an erratic rhythm as he feels his insides lurch.

As soon as Lee notices Eddie, he wraps up the conversation and gets back to work. You observe Eddie, noticing the hopefulness on his face as he strides across the room. “Do you need something?”

“Not necessarily. I was wondering if I could uh, make you dinner or something?” Eddie kicks one foot with the other and totters back and forth in place.

Your expression changes to one of disbelieving annoyance. “I can slap together a PB&J at home, but thanks.”

“No, no. I’m serious, I’ll make whatever you want,” Eddie insists.

“What for?”

Eddie briefly looks away, scratching at the nape of his neck. “I miss hanging out with you.”

“I don’t know,” You ponder with uncertainty, your gaze monitoring the occupied tables in case you’re needed.

“Let me cook for you. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

His pleading eyes wear you down. “Fine, when?”

A bright smile spreads across Eddie’s face, stretching from ear to ear. He bounces on his tiptoes with enthusiasm. “I’ll call you tomorrow and we can set a time then.”

“Sure, yeah,” you respond, your attention diverted to a booth on the far side of the room where the seated customers wave you over. “Look, I gotta go.”

You’re already back in work mode and walking away before Eddie can say anything else. He just stands there, incapable of shrinking his smile to a mere grin.

Bowing his head, Eddie pumps his fists at his sides in a moment of triumph. With the opportunity for redemption sitting in his lap, he has his heart set on making things right.

In the days leading up to the agreed-upon dinner, Eddie makes several trips to the library, hunting for a recipe for the meal you mentioned. He dips into his emergency savings to purchase extra ingredients, dedicating his time and money to practice making it.

The first go around, he forgot to add two crucial ingredients, resulting in a bland and tasteless dish. Eddie couldn’t let it go to waste, so he settled for the less-than-impressive dinner that night.

On the second attempt, he tried to compensate for the previous mistake by adding more than enough seasoning. He didn’t exactly do it on purpose; it poured out of the canister much faster than Eddie expected. Regrettably, that meal went straight into the trash. Eddie couldn’t stomach a forkful of it.

Eddie absolutely, positively cannot fuck this one up. He can’t afford to, both figuratively and literally. Without a doubt, if he serves you a shit dinner, you’ll push him out of your life for good.

When you knock on the front door, the perceived silence on the other side of the door is broken with a clatter and muffled cursing. The quiet resumes and hangs in the air for a couple of seconds before the door swings open.

There stands Eddie, hair a little tousled. “Hello, hello!”

His stomach does somersaults at the sight before him; your clothes accentuate your figure, and your skirt suits you. Once again, you look stunning and appropriately dressed for a date.

Meanwhile, Eddie doesn’t have many options to choose from. The most formal thing he owns is a button-up shirt and it’s too dressy, but it’s all he has. Paired with it are his holeless black jeans. Before today, he never thought it was possible to be both over and underdressed at the same time.

“Come on in,” Eddie says, stepping aside with reluctance, allowing you to enter his apartment.

As soon as he opened the door to you, his mind turned into a whirlwind of second-guessing himself. The shirt is definitely too formal, but Eddie wants to prove that he knows it’s a date this time, and he means for it to be one. If only he owned an iron so that the material wasn’t as wrinkly as it is.

He wants to prove that he can clean up nicely, evident from the scent of aftershave and cologne. Eddie meticulously clipped his fingernails and tidied his eyebrows, ensuring that he is as presentable as possible.

“This is my castle,” He gestures to the space.

The entirety of the afternoon was spent tidying up and Eddie couldn’t bear to leave a single surface undusted. Any potentially embarrassing materials were tucked away and he washed all of his dirty dishes.

As you enter and survey his studio apartment, he takes the opportunity to rake through his bangs with his fingers. You spot his sketchbook sprawled open on the guitar amp and pick it up.

“Oh, those are nothing, you don’t have to-” Eddie moves forward and reaches out, intending to retrieve the drawing pad, but pauses when you point to the sketch he recently finished.

“This one,” you trace the lines of the drawing with your finger before looking over at him. “I’d get this one.”

“You’d let me give you ink?” There’s a hint of insecurity and surprise in his voice as he subtly retrieves the sketchbook from your grasp.

“Maybe. It depends if you’re still shit at it,” you shrug casually, interlocking your hands behind your back as you assess the living room area. Your attention falls on the antique bookshelf, adorned with miscellaneous items and framed photos. “Has Cliff let you take clients yet?”

“No, you’d be my first real canvas,” Eddie admits.

As you continue looking around, his gaze is one beat ahead of yours. His eyes land on it just before yours do, and his stomach drops upon spotting the one thing he forgot to hide.

“Oh my god!” You squeal, rushing over to the couch and scooping up Mr. Pickles. “Who’s this cutie?”

Pale as a ghost, Eddie stares blankly back at you. How the fuck did he forget to hide the one thing on this planet that rids him of all masculinity.

“I’ll introduce you another time,” Eddie silently urges you to put Mr. Pickles back in his spot, desperately hoping you’ll never bring it up again.

In actuality, he should be thanking himself for the oversight, because you look far more high-spirited than when you stood outside his door.

“I’m looking forward to it,” You brush over the matted fur on the bunny’s head before carefully placing him back on the sofa.

The tension dissipates on his body as he picks up on the change in your energy. It’s reminiscent of how happy you were to see him when you were drunk. But this time is different; it’s genuine, rather than influenced by alcohol.

You’re lured into the kitchen by the incredible aroma, and the steaming food matches the enticing smell. “There’s no way in hell you made that.”

“You bet your ass I did,” Eddie retorts with his hands on his hips while he makes his way from the front door to the kitchen.

You step closer to him. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before,” you purr, inching closer until your toes nearly make contact with his socked ones. With featherlight pressure, you place a tender kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

Eddie’s internal circuits fry as he tries to process the fact that he just got kissed on the cheek for the first time. His lungs refuse their vital function, denying him oxygen. He retreats by half a step, attempting to mask the blazing rosiness of his face.

“For god’s sake, I’m so sick of whatever this stupid game is.”

“What game? I’m not-” Eddie panics.

“You get me to throw myself at you by doing thoughtful shit like this, but when I finally make a move, you act revolted.”

“I swear to Christ I’m not playing with you. I mean, I’m not trying to,” Eddie explains, his words jumbling together. “I know I've been making a total ass of myself, and tonight was supposed to fix that. But I just- I keep screwing up because I like you and you make me so nervous.”

You scoff, halfway turned toward the door. “That’s hard to believe. You flinch if I so much as bump into you. You don’t want to touch me, I get it.”

A pang of guilt hits him like a baseball bat to the stomach. “No no no, I do! I wanna touch you,” Eddie admits. “Look, you mean so goddamn much to me. You deserve someone who can make you feel good, and I can’t do that.”

Still guarded, you sound agitated but you turn to face him nonetheless. “What are you talking about?”

His voice lowers, a whisper of shame. “I don’t know the first thing about pleasing a woman. Nobody wants to fuck the dorky virgin, y’know?” Eddie’s vision blurs from the tears veiling his vision.

You frown at the vulnerable quiver in his voice. “I do, I’ve been wanting to.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” he lets out a humorless laugh. “I wouldn’t be able to make you cum.”

“I have to disagree with you on that. You’re a fast learner,” You extend your hand to him at waist height.

Eddie stares at your outstretched hand, struggling to process the gesture. He holds his breath, torn between his anxiety and trust. Cautiously, he places his hand in yours.

The benevolent hold pulses a flash flood through his being, the frigid water jolting his systems alive. When you intertwine your fingers with his, the clamminess is evident against the softness of your palm. Insecurity floods him, worried that you’ll be repulsed by it.

Cracks of lightning electrify Eddie’s heart, rendering him unable to meet your gaze. Instead, he focuses intensely on your joined hands. “I have no idea what I'm doing though.”

“That’s okay,” you assure him with a confident smile. Giving his hand a slight squeeze, you add, “See, not so scary anymore, right?”

Eddie shakes his head, even though fear is still coursing through his veins. You pick up on his hesitation and knowing that he won’t do it himself, you guide his hand to your hip and leave it there.

He sort of caresses, not out of boldness, but seeking to alleviate the numbness in his fingers. The sensation has already spread to other parts of his body.

Your patient expression, graced with a grin, grows into a bright smile when you meet his eyes. Eddie’s confidence blossoms, and he uses his other hand to cradle your cheek.

Acquainting himself with the contours of your face, his thumb strokes lightly from beneath your eyes and along your cheekbone. He starts to smile too as his nerves give way to the feeling of reassurance.

As you tilt your head into his touch, your eyelids flutter closed, and you grasp at the loose sides of his shirt, pulling him closer. He steps forward willingly, but his voice retains an uncertain tone. “I really wanna kiss you, but I’ve never, uh…”

You lean in, and the tip of your nose gently brushes against his. The thundering of his heart in his ears drowns out everything but your voice.

“Close your eyes and follow my lead, okay?” The warmth of your breath encircles his lips, turning his knees to jelly.

Eddie can’t even whisper a confirmation. At your request, he closes his eyes, leaving him solely reliant on his other senses. The smoothness of your lips against his registers as a gentle peck with just enough pressure for him to feel it. It lingers, and he finds himself incapable of moving his lips in response.

“Want another?”

With his eyes still closed, he murmurs, “Yes, please.”

Devilishly, you press a kiss to his wrist, the hand that is still gently cradling your face.

Eddie’s eyes open, a pout and a scowl simultaneously forming his reaction. “Nu-uh, right here,” he insists, leaning in eagerly. He’s caught up in the desire to feel it again but he’s still hesitant to initiate the kiss himself.

You happily close the gap and this time, Eddie slightly purses his lips against yours, doing his best to follow your lead. After giving it a few tries, he feels you withdraw but his head instinctively follows, chasing your lips.

His eyes swirl with affection as he grapples for something to say, feeling breathless and dumb. “Fuck, I don’t wanna stop doing that.”

“Then don’t.”

Finally, Eddie’s able to pursue, but only a fraction of a second before you. With determination, his pecks carry more verve. It’s easier than he thought it would be; granted, he can rely on his ability to keep a steady rhythm, a perk of being a musician.

Eddie didn’t think this could get any better—that is until your lips slot perfectly between his, wet and warm. He pauses, malfunctioning once more. As you kiss him deeply, his mind is dusted in a golden haze and it feels as though he’s floating within himself. Enveloped by the sensation of your hands on his collarbones, a soft noise escapes him.

Mortified, Eddie freezes. Instead of deterring you, it only spurs you on. You wrap your arms around his neck and mold your body against his. The intensity of the kiss only escalates, he’s chasing your storm, matching your every move.

Your fingers entwine in the curls at the nape of his neck, coaxing more noises from him. Eddie is so far gone that he’s unaware of the growing bulge in his jeans. His hand leaves your cheek, traces down your shoulder, and along the outside of your arm before clinging to your waist with both hands.

You hover over his lips, a stream of electricity fizzling between you. “Is it okay if I take my shirt off?”

Eddie forgets to respond but then nods fervently. With curious eyes, he watches intently as you lift your shirt, unveiling skin he’s never seen before.

He inhales and exhales shakily as your necklace falls back into its place against your chest. It’s not a swinging pocket watch, but Eddie is entranced nonetheless.

“You said you wanna touch me,” you draw his trembling hands up your sides. “Now’s your chance.”

Eddie’s hands ascend and meet the silky band of your bra, and you guide his palms forward to the plush foam padding. Your reassuring hold is encouraging, but Eddie tears his stare from your breasts to check-in. He finds you already looking at him, exuding a sweet demeanor. “Give it a try.”

Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobs in the thick column of his throat, his hands unmoving beneath yours.

“Like this,” You squeeze your hands twice before removing your guidance and allowing him to proceed at his own pace.

Adrenaline motivates him to cup them independently this time, and his cock twitches as he commits to the action.

“You’re doing great by the way,” You offer a smile.

Growing more confident, Eddie applies more pressure. His thumbs move in tandem, brushing over the area where your nipples are concealed. The innocent delight in his eyes burns dark into frustration after a few squeezes. Eddie huffs in annoyance at the fact that he’s only getting handfuls of padding.

“Easy, tiger. Want this off too?”

Heartened by the lack of ridicule, he feels safe. Regardless, Eddie fails to articulate more than a few words, his heart lodged in his throat. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Come sit,” You suggest, taking his hand in yours to lead him to sit on the edge of the bed.

As he sits, Eddie thanks himself for having washed his sheets for tonight, despite never imagining that this would happen.

When you release his hand, both of them return to the plush of your waist, making himself at home there. The straps of your unhooked bra drape loosely on your arms, and his pupils dilate as the foam cups gradually gain distance from your body.

“Holy shit,” Eddie says under his breath, his bottom lip shining after a swift swipe of his tongue.

Your hips receive an involuntary squeeze as his patience begins to waver. He then slides his hands back up to your ribs, using his thumb followed by the heel of his palms to graze the bottom of your breasts.

With a sigh of relief, Eddie no longer has to daydream about what they might look like. His beautiful brown eyes roam over your body like you’re a masterpiece, a sculpture carved from stone solely for him to admire endlessly. Savoring the moment, he takes his time to appreciate every second. Eddie doesn’t take your trust for granted.

After a minute or two, you scoot backward onto the mattress toward the pillows. “Let’s get more comfortable.”

He watches you recline half-naked on his bed, and his belly swirls at the sight. Eddie follows suit, crawling to you. Now positioned between your legs, Eddie hesitates as he looks down at you, your hips not making any contact.

His touch resumes at your waist, but this time he’s stroking the expanse of your tummy; it inadvertently brings comfort to both you and him. Until this moment, he’s never had the chance to see the tiny details on your face up close—the distinct aspects that compose your sheer beauty.

Eddie’s hazelnut curls hang over his ears as his gaze trails over your neck and chest. His intense adoration makes you want to hide, but the unease is melted away when he captures your lips with his own. Eddie feels like it’s already been too long since he last kissed you, the deprivation like that of extreme thirst.

Goosebumps prickle his fully dressed form, a surge of belonging filling the cracks in the surface of his heart. Timid pecking is a thing of the past, each kiss more fervid than the one before it. The wet click of your lips drowns out the inhibitions buzzing in his ears.

Eddie’s large hand paws at your breast, his thumb playing with your pebbled nipple, drawing a whine from the back of your throat. You tug him closer by his jeans, bringing his hips down against yours. Regardless of the denim barrier, this causes a change in him. When you lift your hips against Eddie, he grinds back just as needily.

As your lips part, he begins a trail of affection along your cheek, jaw, and down your neck. When Eddie reaches your collarbones, his mouth moves hurriedly. He’s itching to fulfill the longing that’s been something he’s imagined plenty of times before. Kissing every inch in his descent, Eddie hunches over and takes your nipple into his mouth.

The melodious sound that pours from you makes him painfully harder. His cock strains against the metal zipper of his jeans, fighting to defy the taut material. You arch into his mouth, and Eddie continues to grind against the apex of your thighs.

He licks his way across to give much-needed attention to your opposite breast, all the while maintaining stimulation on the other with his thumb. Eddie suckles and flicks his tongue, his breath hitting your bare skin like a sweltering midsummer heat wave.

The reciprocity of sincerity is blowing his mind; the way it feels to have your hands weaving through his hair. There’s a slight tug when your fingers catch on a knot, and the sting only fans the flames burning in his lower belly.

Eddie releases your nipple, leaving it bereft of the heat of his mouth. Following his previously explored path up your chest and neck, he bashfully looks into your eyes. “Could I, uh, kiss you down there, too?”

“Normally I’d have to ask for head. Are you sure?”

The melted milk chocolate of his irises practically drips off of his lashes as he blinks at you. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, sweetheart. I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”

“I’m not entirely convinced,” You coax him playfully.

“I’ll just have to prove how starving I am then, won’t I?” Eddie quips, moving out of the way to remove your skirt. As he does, the waistband slips from your hips and he slides it off your legs.

You’re in nothing but your panties and the white cotton is not particularly sexy, but they sure are familiar. That day at the laundromat, Eddie never imagined he’d see you in this exact pair at some point. He wonders if you did.

His fingertips tap their way up your thighs until they reach the band of your underwear. You look so cute with your hands resting across your belly like an awaiting princess—his princess.

Much like the skirt before it, the garment is tugged down the curvature of your legs. Your knees knock together as your legs reflexively close. Meanwhile, Eddie is mesmerized by the damp patch on panties hanging from his fist.

“You wanna keep 'em?”

Eddie nods with feigned innocence. These would go to good use, he thinks.

“They’re all yours,” You grant his wish.

“I feel so spoiled,” he says while tucking them into his back pocket for safekeeping. Then, Eddie redirects his attention to the living art laid out before him. “Especially for getting to see you like this,” he drags his fingertips along the outside of your calves until they reach your knees.

Your legs fall open, proudly putting your glistening cunt on display for him.

“Fuck,” Eddie says, moon-eyed. He repositions himself between your legs, lying on his stomach. Drool pools on his tongue, his mouth just inches away from your body. With one arm wrapped under your thigh, Eddie uses a finger on his free hand to collect the wetness that’s all for him.

“Don’t be a tease,” You fuss.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Eddie responds, ready to put his new skill to use. It starts with a testing press of his lips against your clit. He works his way lower, mouthing at you messily, making out with your cunt. Eddie licks his lips and rests his cheek against your inner thigh. “Can I use my fingers too?”

“Yeah, just take it slow,” You gather his hair and keep it out of his face so it doesn’t get in the way.

Eddie glides two digits through your folds, admiring the way the pads of his fingers glisten with the mix of your slick and his spit. Slowly, he eases his two fingers into your entrance. They sink deeper without facing resistance, and you soak him down to his bottom knuckles. Eddie looks up at you from between your legs, amazed. “You’re so wet.”

You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows to meet his gaze. “You own a mirror, don’t you? How could I not be.”

Flattered, Eddie smiles. He draws his fingers back before plunging them into you a little faster this time, though not by much. As you lay back and get comfortable, you instinctively roll your hips downward with each thrust of his fingers.

With his cheek still resting on the inside of your thigh, he’s unable to bring himself to speed up, downright mesmerized by the sensation of your velvety walls squeezing around his fingers. When he accidentally flexes and curls them upward, it elicits a pretty gasp from you.

Eddie’s gaze flits up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What was that?” he teases and does it again, deliberately. “Did you say something?”

You moan, “That feels amazing,” You run your hand up your belly to your breast, massaging yourself in tandem with his improved technique.

He finds a steady tempo, rubbing the spot that makes your nerves flare. With nothing else on his mind, Eddie is fully engrossed as he drives his digits into you. Your fingers suddenly appear before him to rub your clit for added stimulation.

“Oh my god,” You moan unabashedly, arching your back off of the bed in response to the heightened ecstasy.

“You like that?” Eddie looks up at you, feeling a rush of pride as you writhe.

“Yes- fuck, I’m almost there.”

Eddie boldly nudges your hand away with his nose, swiftly replacing your fingers with his tongue, flicking it passionately.

Your moans fill his ears as he laps at you, enjoying the way you taste when you unravel. He’s so in the zone that he fails to realize you’ve already reached your peak and become overstimulated.

You squirm in his grip, gently pushing his forehead away. “Eddie, Eddie!”

“Yeah?” His fingers stop abruptly, and he looks at you with doe-like eyes, your glossy sugar smeared all over his lips and chin.

“It’s too much,” You say exhaustedly.

“Shit, my bad,” Eddie frowns, disappointed that his fun has come to an end. He slowly withdraws his digits, admiring the way you’ve coated them. He drags his fingers down his tongue like your arousal is cake batter from a bowl. A low hum emanates from Eddie as he sucks them clean, inadvertently making a show of it. “God, your pussy tastes good. Even better than I dreamed it would.”

“Come here,” You beckon him, smiling blissfully.

Eddie wastes no time getting onto his hands and knees and crawls up between your legs. Hovering over you, he gazes into your eyes, cheeks dimpled. “I made you cum.”

“I can’t remember the last time I came that hard either,” you chuckle, noticing the sheen on his face. You grab your discarded shirt to wipe it off. “Here, let me-”

“No!” Eddie angles out of your reach, his brow furrowed. Using his still-sticky fingers, he wipes at his lips and chin, licking his digits clean once more. “Can’t let it go to waste.”

After you tuck his frizzy curls behind his ears, Eddie’s tender grin fades. Your hands slowly move down his pecs to his belt, and you tug at the metal buckle. Just as you free the leather from the prong, he stops you.

“Uh- wait.” The hesitance in his voice brings your pursuit to a halt. The way you shrink back causes his heart to squeeze.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to go all the way if you’re not ready.”

“It’s not that. Believe me,” Eddie reassures you. He brings a hand to the side of your face and strokes your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’m just worried that you’ll never wanna see me again ‘cause I'm so terrible in bed.”

Your shoulders raise and lower with the deep breath that you take. “You said you want to make me feel good, right?”

“More than anything,” Eddie declares in a heartbeat.

“Your cock would.”

Eddie nearly shudders and his voice burns raspy. “Yeah? You want it?”

You hook your fingers through his belt loops and tug, staring back at him intensely. “Not want. I need you inside me.”

“Christ,” he gulps and presses his hips forcefully against yours, dampening the denim. Eddie lowers his mouth to your shoulder and kisses it. “I wanna know what it feels like so bad.”

You turn your head and nibble his earlobe. “Let’s take care of that, shall we?” When your hands return to his partially undone belt, Eddie doesn’t intervene this time.

“I don’t have protection though.”

Blindly, you unbutton and unzip his jeans. “Side pocket of my purse.”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away and awkwardly scoots backward off the bed. His pants hang low on his slender hips, exposing the snug elastic band of his blue plaid boxers. After finding the condom, he inspects it. “I have no fucking clue how to use this.”

Sitting up, you hold your hand out. “I can put it on you if you want.”

Eddie hands it to you, then it occurs to him that he’s still fully dressed. While you’re tearing the foil package, he yanks down his jeans and kicks them away, his belt jangling. Only a few buttons are undone from the neck before he gets impatient. Eddie tears his shirt over his head, leaving his mane disheveled.

He pulls at the waistband of his precum-soaked boxers indecisively, but the sight of your beautiful naked body reminds him that it’s only fair. Eddie pulls them down and his anxiety has caused him to go partially soft. When you look at him, he wishes the world would swallow him whole.

Your eyes rake across his slim frame, then meet his eyes instead of drifting below his waist. Eddie climbs back onto the bed, sitting on his haunches. You crawl onto your knees to join him and pull his body against yours, kissing him.

Mumbling against your lips, he tries to apologize for already failing you by being unable to stay hard, but his words falter as the kiss deepens, his worries becoming an afterthought. Eddie grips your waist, and the sensation of your breasts pressing against his bare chest makes him feel woozy. As soon as you break the kiss, he’s immediately filled with fear once more. “If it’s small or it looks weird, don’t tell me.”

You effectively distract him from his insecurities by trailing your lips down his pulse, dragging your teeth along the supple skin there. Eddie grips your ass harshly, a shaky sound pouring from his throat as you kiss your way down his body. He watches, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

As you finally look at his shy cock, you run your palms up and down the sparse hair on his outer thighs. “You’re the perfect size for me,” You compliment him with a smile.

“I am?”

You suck a bruise on the pale skin of his waist. “Yeah, you are.”

Eddie’s eyes close, his hands resting on your shoulders as he focuses on the sensation of you licking and biting him. Lost in the feeling rather than inside of his head, Eddie’s cock gradually rouses.

Having previously set it aside, you grab the condom. “Hold it still for me, please.”

“O-Okay,” he secures it at the base, his palm covering the trimmed thatch of curls. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” With one hand, you fit the band around the tip, and with your other, you roll the latex down his shaft. That alone causes Eddie’s mouth to fall open, a ghosted moan tumbling from his lips.

“There, easy peasy,” Sitting back up and wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him flush against you. His wrapped, twitching cock is trapped between your bodies. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

“I’m not sure I could if I tried,” Eddie says, his eyes flitting between yours. “Is this really happening?”

“It’s happening,” After kissing the tip of his nose, you settle back bringing him down with you to get comfortable, your head resting on the pillow.

Eddie returns to the previous position, this time with your legs hiked around his hips, causing his cock to rub against your mound. Afraid of poking around too much, he asks, “Would you do the honors, m’lady?”

“Why, of course,” you say with a giggle. You guide the head of his cock right where it needs to be and look into Eddie’s eyes. “Go ahead.”

He swallows hard and inches his hips forward, the tip of his cock breaching your entrance. Eddie sinks until he’s halfway sheathed by the hot embrace of your cunt. As he pushes the rest of the way in, his jaw falls slack.

“You doing okay?” You soothingly stroke the bulging veins on his forearms.

“Mhm,” Eddie mumbles with his lips rolled inward. After a few seconds without moving, he draws his hips back and then drives them forward. The moan that rips from his chest is unholy.

After two or three agonizingly slow and experimental thrusts, the motion comes naturally to him after all that practice he’s gotten from humping his poor pillow in this very spot. “Fuck me,” The hand that isn’t supporting Eddie’s weight fists at the bed sheets as he thrusts repeatedly, falling into a slow and steady pace. “Jesus fucking fuck.”

“Look at you go,” you moan out. “It feels amazing, doesn’t it?”

“Feels… god, you feel incredible,” Eddie grunts, propping himself up on both hands. His hair hangs down, swaying with the tempo of his hips. In this position, he can watch the bounce of your body with each thrust and he’s doing just that.

The grazing of your fingernails along his flexing hips throws off his pace. It weakens him, especially when you’re looking at him the way you are. Eddie is so consumed by the feeling of you wrapped around him that he can’t be self-conscious about the fact that he’s moaning every time he sinks back into you.

The shame of virginity has been lifted away as Eddie experiences this night of firsts with the girl he’s crazy about. Eddie is struggling to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss a single second of this. He’s captivated by the way you’re watching his length disappear inside you over and over.

You look stunning lying on his pillow, anchoring his body to yours. Before tonight, he considered the concept of moaning someone's name to be cliché because it only happens in the movies. But Eddie’s had a change of heart because he can’t stop saying yours. It’s all of you right here, right now, all over, making a man out of him.

His muscles begin to tremble, and he lowers himself onto his forearms. Eddie rests his forehead against yours, his hips stuttering. “I’m so close, baby. I don’t wanna cum,” He slows his movement to stave off his orgasm.

“I want you to,” You express while gliding your hands down his muscular back.

“No,” Eddie protests, ceasing his thrusts entirely. “I want you to cum again first.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Are you shitting me? It’s always been about you,” he pulls back to look into your eyes. “I’d do anything for you, you’re so damn worth it.”

Just before you have the chance to respond, Eddie unexpectedly rolls his hips. With one hand, he thumbs at your clit, watching how your eyes roll back. He doesn’t even have to look down to see the mess you’re making because he can hear it.

Eddie’s moans dance with yours as he pushes his knees forward, adjusting the angle of his hips to mimic a ‘come hither’ motion. He knows he’s found the spot he discovered prior when your legs spasm around him. In response, Eddie rubs your clit harder.

The way your walls tighten makes it all that more difficult for him to hold back. He’s on the cusp, his abs tensing as he tries to fight it. Your hand flies above you to push against the headboard, your other one occupied with gripping his flexing waist.

“Cum for me,” Eddie growls, frustrated with himself as he teeters on the edge, just seconds away from spilling into the condom.

Your brows furrow and your eyes squeeze shut, a rush of air getting caught in your throat as you climax.

“Yeahhh, that’s it,” Eddie’s abdominal muscles tense to their limit. “Oh- fuck,” His voice pitches higher.

“I’m yours,” You moan prettily and guide him down, letting him bury his face in your neck to give his arms a well-deserved rest.

“All mine,” Eddie says between his labored breaths. He grips and lifts your hips while you kiss his shoulder. Losing their previous steadiness, his strokes become shorter and more sporadic. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. I’m gonna cuh- uh- mmm.”

Eddie lets out a whimper as he delivers two unsteady thrusts before slamming his hips against you, burying himself as he orgasms. His ass tenses and ripples, the muscles contracting as he rides out his high.

Panting loudly, Eddie stills his movements completely and props himself up to look down at you. “Jesus Christ. After that, I wanna have you for dinner every day,” he says against your cheek before kissing it. “As a snack in the middle of the night,” Eddie adds, kissing your temple. “Shit, you’d be good for breakfast too. It’s the most important meal of the day, y’know.”

You let out a winded giggle, your bodies sticking together as he struggles to keep himself propped up.

“Sweetheart, can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” You tease and smile wide when he rolls his eyes and snorts.

Eddie takes your hand, flattening your palm against his chest so that you can feel how vigorously his heart is beating. “Is this what being in love feels like?” He asks tearfully.

“Yeah,” you nod, placing his hand over your own heart that’s thudding just as hard. “Just like this.”

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