#i am so incredibly goddamn done

[enbeemagical]

Listen if I ever am in a position to create a scholarship with whatever criterion I want, it will be totally independent of the FAFSA and rely entirely on the student. It will not require any of the parents' information-- not their finances, not their SSN, nothing. Just the student.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

i love from me to you sm! 😭 like it aimed directly to my heart 😭 you're so good at writing stuff so, here i am asking for a zoro!fic where reader hides that she got wounded during their last battle and zoro founds out and our poor moss head thought reader was gonna die so, he confessed (i just love flustered zoro) 😚 n e ways, continue writing the best stories!! lotsoflove! - glasses of nanamin

i feel like this is your second ask cause of the "n e ways" but lol, eitherways that's such a cute concept!! i would love love love this (i tweaked the prompt a little bit to fit it better, but i hope you like it it still)

got me losin' my cool ft. roronoa zoro!

set-up: as anon asked!! you get hurt during a fight and zoro almost has a mental breakdown haha live, laugh, love <3

warning: a bit of angst, zoro is a dumbass. otherwise, wholesome!

roronoa zoro's feet pound against the earth and he was sure that with every leap he took, his heart sunk further under. his fingers were clammy. so very clammy against your soft skin. and he was sure the sweat dripping off his forehead and dropping onto your bloodied tank top was the last thing you wanted to see before you died.

"zo—" you rasped helplessly and your voice felt like graters against his skin. your chapped lips, almost closed eyes, the wound on your stomach and your week, blood-stained hand on it. he couldn't even bear to look at you without wanting to breakdown.

"stop talkin, please." he clenched his jaw tighter, the sound of teeth against teeth jarring. and although he refused to look down at you, cradled carefully in his arms, he could hear the desperate heaves that rocked your body.

he picked up the pace, ducking under hanging vines and leaping over overgrown roots of ancient trees carefully, so, as to not hurt you. the ship should be two minutes away, docked at the edge of the island and chopper must be there. and chopper would know what to do. how to help you.

zoro had to just deliver you to chopper.

but with his poor geographical skills, he felt like he had been running for the past thirty minutes without finding the ship. and he was certain the ship was docked only 10 minutes away from where the fight was taking place between the strawhat crew and a local pirate crew.

"zoro—" you started again.

why were you speaking? DID YOU WANT TO DIE?

"—don't use up your breath. please." he panted, feet still working to find the ship. where was that goddamn ship?

"that side—" you winced as you pointed your arm in the opposite direction. you coughed, wincing again before whispering, "the sunny."

zoro's head whipped around to look behind him. and at once, he changed the course. running as fast as he could, he soon found himself at the rocky beach the ship had been docked at.

"CHOPPER!" the swordsman bellowed for the mini doctor as he climbed up the ship. the reindeer was peering over the deck and when he looked at your nearly passed-out figure, he yelped in surprise.

"she got stabbed." zoro explained as he carried you inside to chopper's makeshift office/operation theater. laying you down gently, they both looked guilty as you groaned and clutched your own hand on the wound tighter.

"i need to apply some anti-septic, clean the wound and stitch it up." chopper stated, eerily calm in the heat of the moment. "here—" he gave zoro a sterilized cloth from his cupboard, "—apply it to her wound. put pressure on the area, i need to go make the anti-septic really quick."

"you have to make it? how long will that take?" if the swordman wasn't scared out of his wits, he would be surprised at how desperate he sounded.

"five minutes."

zoro looked at the reindeer wide-eyed. but the reindeer ran off, presumably to make the said medicine.

he looked back at you, putting the cloth to the wound and gently pushing down. he knew how to make the bleeding stop, he had done this multiple time. what he hadn't done multiple times was see you so lifeless, so incredibly overtaken by pain.

"hey." he found himself saying softly. softer than he had ever spoken before, "hey, can you look at me? hear me?"

you nodded slowly and relief washed over him. atleast you hadn't lost all cognitive senses.

"just focus on my voice, okay?" he knelt down so that he was on your eye-level from the bed. his other hand gingerly took ahold of yours. mindlessly, he rubbed soothing circles on your skin. he repeated, "just focus on my voice. yeah, close your eyes. i'm here okay?"

you found yourself closing your eyes, relying solely on the darkness of your eyelids and his voice to guide you to safety. his hand felt like a familiar weight against your stomach, the kind of touch that will renew a dead man and get him climbing back from his grave. his voice was sweet, too sweet to be even called his.

"i—" he paused, rubbing your skin with the pad of his thumb, "chopper's gonna fix you up, you know. h-he always does. i mean you're stronger than this. you'd survive, right?"

he's not sure if he meant to ask it as a question. he was sure he had said it to sound reassuring. but somewhere in between him uttering the words and you hearing them, they had turned into a desperate, desolate plea.

your chest fluttered underneath him, your breath strained. the face he adored slowly scrunched up from the pain. and he found himself talking even more.

"focus on me, okay? just me." he steeled his voice. and his nerves. "you'd be okay. you know, you always said you'd make me mochi, you never did. you said you'd make sake flavoured mochi. is that even a thing?" he laughed despite himself. it was barely a laugh. a pitiful scoff maybe? it was not the kind of laugh that would fool you.

"uh— once you get better." he pretended to ignore the way your body seemed to go slack under him. he repeated, "once you get better, i'm gonna convince franky to make us fireworks. you love those. and- and nami. i'd convince that money-hungry witch to lend me some money so that i can take you out. we will go shopping. you always said you—"

why were you so awfully quiet? usually, you'd talk to the point where he wanted to cut his ear off. now, he wanted to her you. he wanted to hear you call him a moss-head like sanji and he wanted you to laugh when he yelled at luffy for doing something stupid. and—

"—hey?" his voice pitched higher, "please wait, chopper will be back yeah?"

but you didn't even shake your head a weak yes. his shaky fingers reached out to look for your pulse on your neck. it was there. feeble, but there. but for how long?

how long till he lost you?

his throat was closing up, he couldn't breathe. his eyes burned and he was sure he was gonna mark your skin with his own from the way he held onto your wrist.

why won't you talk to him? call out his name, god fucking dammit. nobody called his name the way you did. as if you liked the syllables enough to make a home out of them. nobody smiled at him the way you did. so sweet, too sweet for him. you were everything. even though he was just another wrecked, broken boy with dreams too big for his mortal body, you were everything.

"please," he clutched onto you like a maddening bastard, "please. just hold on, okay?"

but bile seemed to crawl farther up his throat every time you didn't respond. not even a slight glance. not even the movement of a pinky. his fingers checked for your pulse. faint, but there.

and he couldn't hold his words back. he called out your name in a desperate effort to awaken you. water blurred his vision and he blinked it away. his throat was scratchy. too scratchy. and where was chopper?

"i love you." he finally confessed, not thinking much of his words than the fact that he just wanted you to hear them. "i love you so much. i have for so long. i-it wasn't supposed to be like this. i- i was gonna take you out to explore some island. i would have bought you food and called you an idiot when you smiled at me. then— then." he paused, "i would have told you i loved you. you would have said nothing back. and i would have loved even despite that."

he called out your name, sobs racking through his body like accursed symphonies.

"move." chopper was back, in his hand was a ceramic bowl with a green, gooey paste. "go out. i'd call you back, okay?"

if chopped noticed the state zoro was in, he simply chose not to dwell on it. and if zoro had any residual doubts for what kind of a doctor chopper was, he didn't dwell on them either. he caressed your hand one last time and stepped out.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

the swordsman had been pacing around the deck. none of the members were back and it gnawed on his heart. what if they were hurt too? should he go back to see? but how could he leave chopper and you alone here? and what kind of a first mate was he if he cannot even save his own crew?

the world's greatest swordman be damned.

chopper stepped out and zoro looked at the doctor, frantic. chopper gave him a sigh and chased it with a smile, "she's okay."

zoro was not sure if it was the exhaustion, or the relief, or some other feeling his gut had concocted in him without asking. but he crashed down on his knees. his palms felt rough against his face and when he inhaled, he could smell dried blood on them.

"hey." chopper trotted towards him, keeping his paw on the green-haired man's shoulders, "she's okay, really. they missed any vital spots and she didn't lose a lot of blood. she will heal, okay?"

zoro couldn't do anything but just nod along. then, when he had the courage to look away from his hands. he looked at the doctor, finally muttering a faint "thank you."

the reindeer blushed at the compliment, "don't thank me. but you know, once she's better, you should tell her how you feel. this time maybe while she's conscious."

"chopper." the swordsman groaned.

the reindeer shrugged mechanically, "i won't tell anyone what i heard if you promise to take her out on that date."

after much deliberation— having to choose between humiliation at the hand of his crewmates when they discovered his crush or the humiliation from his crush when he finally confessed— he finally gave in. after all, humiliation from one was better than humiliation from seven. especially that fucking cook.

"fine." he grumbled, "i'd take her out."

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

it had been two weeks since you were stabbed. well, you didn't talk to anyone about it, really. but when you drifted off into the wicked embrace of sleep, you would be plagued by the memories. and well, a confession.

it's not like you were pretending to be dead!! your body had simply given up. it was exhausted from the fighting and the not-dying. so, when you were laid on chopper's bed to be patched up, your body had gone slack. but just because your body had gone slack doesn't mean you weren't awake.

it had been two weeks and you hadn't told the green-haired asshole what you had heard. why? maybe cause you thought he would make the first move. or maybe because you weren't quite sure if he actually said those things or if you hallucinated it to dilute the pain.

eitherways, seemed like things between you and the mosshead were the same as they were before the incident. and you were really starting to consider the hallucination excuse. but then—

"hey." zoro quipped up as he came to stand beside you. it was cloudy today, the grey skies churning in anticipation of a storm. the winds were unkind and the sea was malevolent. beautiful nonetheless.

"oh hey." you turned and gave him a small smile. you shifted from one feet to another, pretending as if you weren't terrified of the route this conversation might take, "whats up?"

"uh—" he looked back for a spilt-second and you saw— from the corner of your eyes— chopper hidden behind a bunch of boxes, giving zoro his best death glare. zoro sighed, "so, uh, this is random, i think? but when we dock on the next island tomorrow morning. do like... do you want to go see some new sword-cleaning equipment with me?"

you shouldn't have laughed. but you did.

"what's funny?!" his eyes widened and his cheeks were dusted pink.

"no-nothing." you heaved, closing your eyes. "that's the best excuse you could come up with? sword cleaning equipment?"

"what do you mean 'excuse'? i need some equipment!"

"zoro." you forced open your eyes, your smile still frozen over your lips, "if you want to go out on a date with me, you should say that okay?"

his ears went red and he looked away. you were sure if the weather was quiet, you could hear his heart picking up the pace. clearing his throat, he finally asked, "who told you? chopper?"

"no, dummy." you reached your hand out, taking his calloused palm in yours. your thumb rubbed familiar patterns on his hand, "you did."

"me?" he snapped to look back at you, "me?"

you just gave him a grin, "this reminds me, i did promise you i'd try making sake flavoured mochi. i never did. but again, you said you'd ask frankie to make us fireworks and we're still firework-less. but hey, i forgive you if you forgive me okay?"

his head could have burst open from the sheer pressure on his brain but you continued, "but eitherways, what i really mean is that if you said i love you." you stepped a bit closer, "i'd say i love you too."

your hand let go of his and you chose to walk away, leaving him dumbfounded. when his senses came to him, he ran upto you, "YOU HEARD THAT ALL?!"

"all of it."

"ugh."

"heh, it was kinda cute."

"i thought you were dying, woman."

"in a way, we all already are."

"have you been hanging out with robin too much? god, kill me."

"god doesn't need to. you're already dying."

"i want to die faster."

you took his hand back in yours and pulled him towards yourself. pecking his cheek, you said, "no. we still have to go on that date. i mean, if you ever actually ask me."

the flustered mess that was rorononoa zoro just sighed. accepting his fate, he asked, "well, do you wanna go on that date or what?"

you snickered, "i'll think about it"

"do you live to annoy me?"

"maybe. but you love meee."

"i might change my mind after this."

but despite his words, his fingers stayed gently intertwined with yours. hey, maybe getting stabbed in the stomach wasn't all that bad? (jk, it was very very bad)

a/n: i love writing stoic men are flustered little guys lmaoo. hopefully y'all like this? i've been writing a lot of fluff/semi-angst lately. i wanna write some nsfw content but im so out of ideas. send reqs if you guys have anything in mind!!

[joelsgreys]

not a thing

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

part ii

summary: You and Joel had a private moment while Ellie was asleep. Or so you’d thought she was asleep.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. implied smut, but no actual smut. grumpy Joel, Ellie is a little shit.

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: nervous to write for TLOU but still giving it a shot! poor Ellie for being subjected to what i am about to subject her to lol. Edit: holy shit, i did not expect this to get much attention. thank you all sm for reading, liking and reblogging!

It had been an incredibly stupid thing to do.

So, so, so fucking stupid.

You knew that.

And Joel knew that.

You two were supposed to have been standing watch.

Not to mention, there had been a teenaged girl sleeping close by, just mere fucking yards away from the two of you had been—

Jesus Christ.

Dammit, you and Joel fucking knew better than to be this goddamn stupid.

Careless.

But neither of you could help yourselves.

It had been several weeks—actually, it had been several months since you two had been able to steal a private moment for yourselves. That moment would have been missed had you not somehow woken up in the middle of the night, only to find Joel wide awake, his rifle in hand as he stood watch while you and Ellie had slept. You’d offered to take his place for a few hours so he could get some rest too, but instead, a few minutes and many, many desperate, feverish kisses later, the two of you found yourselves on the other side of Bill’s old white and blue Chevrolet pickup truck, Joel’s jeans unzipped and your own jeans pulled down around your knees along with your underwear. He’d had you bent over, but still standing at a point where you could peek over the bed of the truck so that you could somehow keep a watchful eye out in between the moments of mind-numbing pleasure—both for any signs of potential danger and also for Ellie, who was passed out, curled up into a little ball in her sleeping bag and completely unaware of what her two reluctant protectors were doing behind the vehicle right next to her.

Your bottom lip was busted, bruised from biting down on it so hard.

The deal had been no noise, not even a single whimper, although you couldn’t remember how well either of you had stuck to that rule in the heat of the moment. It had been a quick fuck, just enough to give you and Joel some much needed relief from all of those pent up stresses and frustrations you two were carrying on your shoulders since Ellie had entered your lives just the week before. And just like back in the Boston QZ, Joel said nothing to you once it was over and done with.

It never hurt your feelings. It was just how things were.

It was some sort of twisted, fucked up unspoken pact the two of you had. 

Joel Miller fucked you, and then he just pretended like nothing ever happened, not until the next time he found himself buried inside of you.

It’s not like you expected Joel to return your feelings.

Hell, you weren’t even sure the man knew how to feel anything but anger, bitterness, and violence. 

Afterwards, Joel took you up on your offer to keep watch and slept for a couple of hours until sunrise came and had you both moving, packing up the truck and getting ready to continue the long drive ahead to Wyoming.

“She’s been oddly quiet,” Joel mumbled to you as he packed up the remnants of the small campsite into the bed of the pickup truck. “Go check on her.”

Obediently, you nodded and dropped the sleeping bag in your hands before turning away and walking over to where Ellie was sitting cross legged on the ground, her fingers mindlessly fiddling with a small, broken tree branch on the ground. “Hey,” you offered her a small smile. “It’s almost time to get going. You doing alright over here?”

She looked up at you and gave you a small nod. “Yeah. Just cold as fuck since we can’t have a fucking fire going,” she said, tossing a tiny glare over in Joel’s direction. “But other than that? I’m just fucking peachy.”

You chuckled and shrugged out of your worn out, brown windbreaker jacket. You draped it over Ellie’s shoulders before taking a seat beside her on the ground. She may have been a thorn in Joel’s side—then again, who wasn’t a thorn in Joel Miller’s side—but you’d warmed up to her fairly quickly. A lot quicker than your partner, anyway. He was still a work in progress.

“Did you sleep okay?”

Ellie nodded, clutching your jacket close. “Kinda,” she shrugged her small shoulders. “The ground was really hard and uncomfortable. I woke up a couple of times throughout the night and had trouble falling back asleep.”

Your smile faded ever so slightly. “Oh? You did?”

Noticing the sudden change in your demeanor, a small smirk crossed the girl’s face. “I knew you and McGrumps over there were a thing.”

You nearly choked on your own saliva as you nervously sputtered out, “W-What the hell are you talking about?”

Ellie raised an eyebrow at you, shooting you a knowing look as her smirk widened.

Oh for fuck’s sake. Ellie had caught you and Joel while you two were—fucking?

Mortified did not even come close to cutting it.

“Oh god,” You muttered, your face on fire. 

“I really hope you two are being smart and using protection,” she added teasingly. “What’s that saying? Wrap it before you tap it?”

“Ellie!” You hissed, glancing over your shoulder. Joel went about his business and it was times like these where you were actually thankful that his hearing wasn’t what it used to be. You turned back to her and quickly started trying to explain yourself. “Ellie, I don’t know what you think you saw but—”

“Oh, it was too dark to see anything. I heard you guys.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “Back behind the truck.” She paused, thoroughly enjoying every single moment of complete and utter discomfort she was causing you. “You know, if that’s gonna keep happening, I’m really gonna need you guys to find me a Walkman with some headphones. Noise cancelling headphones, please and thank you.”

You dropped your head into your hands and anxiously rubbed your face with your palms. “Fuck. I’m really sorry, Ellie,” Was all that you could say.

What else could you say?

Sorry you had to hear me getting fucked by my partner while you were laying just feet away in your sleeping bag?

“Sorry for what? For not being able to keep it in your pants?” Ellie giggled, slapping your knee with her hand in an attempt to get you to lighten up. “I get it. Nature. Hormones. Biology and shit.”

You lifted your face from your hands. “Joel can’t know,” You warned her. “Or he won’t be able to look you or me in the eye ever again.”

Ellie groaned in exaggeration, throwing her head back. “Aw, come on! I really wanted to see him squirm.”

“Me squirming should be fucking enough you little shit,” You laughed, shoving her playfully with your elbow. Once both of your giggles had subsided, in a more serious tone, you told her, “And for the record, we are not a thing.”

Ellie stared at you in disbelief. “Get out of here, you lying sack of shit! You totally are!”

“I know it’s hard to understand. But just because two people—” You trailed off, trying to choose your words carefully. It was more often than not that you had to remind yourself that despite what Ellie had been through and all she had seen, she was still fourteen. A fucking child.

“Bump uglies?” she suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.

You sighed. “Jesus Christ, please don’t ever fucking say that out loud again.” You paused briefly, running a hand through your hair. “But yes. Just because two people do what he and I were doing, that doesn’t mean anything. For a lot of people, it can be quite meaningless actually. It does not mean they are a thing. Me and Joel? Not a thing. Understood?”

Ellie blinked. “That’s probably the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Even before last night, I knew you two were a thing. Whether either of you admit it or not. I can tell.”

You knew better than to play into what she was saying, but the sheer curiosity got the better of you.

What had Ellie noticed about you and Joel?

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged, bringing her knees up to her chest. “I dunno. The way you look at him. The way he looks at you. He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you. Even if he might have a shitty ass way of showing it.”

You glanced back over at Joel and then back at Ellie, confused.

“And you can deny it all you want. But if there’s one thing that stone cold asshole cares about, it’s definitely you,” Ellie stated firmly.

Your mouth fell open slightly, unsure what to say to her.

“What the hell are you two yappin’ about over there?” Joel called, looking over his shoulder.

“Nothing!” Ellie practically sang, causing him to roll his eyes and turn his attention back to his task.

“Well then, get off your asses and let’s get a fuckin’ move on. Ain’t got time to waste.”

[totaly-obsessed]

The Weight of Expectations

Alexia Putellas x reader

-> Happy Birthday to my darling @greynatomy, love ya!

-> Alexia struggles through the IVF journey and turns mean

-> Talk of pregnancy, alcohol and abuse

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“¡No puedes hablar en serio!”

Oh. Alexia was home, something new. You were currently in the bathroom closest to the bedroom, heaving up anything that you had eaten, even the light soup. 

For a couple of days, you had been like this, and two days ago you had finally done a test. A pregnancy test. This was the last IVF round before Ale and you had to start considering other options like adoption. The first 2 rounds had failed.

Positive. The goddamn test was finally positive.

Immediately you had made an appointment for a blood test to get done. You just had to be sure before telling Alexia. The blonde already blamed herself, thinking she had waited for too long, hesitant to have a child while in the midst of her career before she finally committed to it.

You had been so incredibly happy when she came to you after a game. Tears streamed down your face when she told you that she was ready to have a child. With you.

The disappointment of two failed attempts weighed heavily on Alexia. She desperately tried to console you as you cried, hiding her own tears in her pillow when you finally passed out. How could she be sad when you had to go through the physical aspect as well?

She shouldn't have waited that long, maybe 29 was too old.

After that things changed. She had left for Spain camp, and after that, she threw herself back into work in Barcelona. Her surgery was healing well and she was getting better and better by the day.

Meanwhile, you were sat at home, trying to understand the change in your wife. Did you do something wrong? With the previous tries the footballer had been so involved, checking in on you multiple times a day when she was at training. 

And now? Nothing.

Alone you had gone to the blood test yesterday, not even needing an explanation for your wife, who came home after you had gone to bed and left before you woke up.

Eight Weeks. You were already two months along. In Alexia's absence, you had completely forgotten to test, wanting to do it with her.

As soon as you had gotten the confirmation, the morning sickness hit ten times harder. Who even decided to call it that? Morning sickness… What a stupid fucking name. The whole day was filled with sudden cramps and vomiting.

And you had done it all alone until now. 

But Alexia was here now, yelling in the kitchen, before she stomped up the stairs to the bathroom, looking into every door available on her way. She was looking for you.

She hesitated for a second, seeing you crouched on the floor, head over the toilet, and pale as the white wall behind you.

“¡No puedes hablar en serio!”, she yelled again, now in your face.

“I am serious Ale, what's up?”

This was the first time you had seen her in a couple of days, her roots were starting to show, as did the bags under her eyes. But the rest of her body looked stronger than ever, the countless hours in the gym paying off.

“The kitchen is a mess, you didn’t do the laundry and you didn't mop the floors either. Look how filthy it is in this house!”

Wow.

You didn't know what you had been expecting. But definitely not this.

With slow movements you pushed yourself up, using the sink to help balance yourself. Fuck were you dizzy.

“W- What did you mean?” You hated how meek your voice sounded after your wife practically yelled at you.

Her face was red, and her eyes looked like she had been bitten by the devil, spit gathering at the corners of her mouth.

Crazy. She looked really fucking crazy, and it was terrifying.

“¿En serio?”

“Let’s just go downstairs, I made dinner and we can talk about it.” 

With a scoff the blonde turned on the spot, stomping down the stairs, leaving you in the bathroom. Tears threatened to fall. What has happened?

With your nausea, it took you a bit longer to navigate the stairs. Every step hurt, but Alexia couldn’t care less about your pain-filled noises. She was busy stabbing a fork into her dinner, already scarfing a plate of your favorite pasta dish down.

“Finally. God, you always take so long.”

The words were filled with hate as she spat them at you, not even noticing that a bit of the sauce was flung onto her cheeks. 

You couldn’t help but smile a bit, she had never managed to eat without making a mess of herself and the table. With a damp cloth, you tried to wipe the spot away, but when she hit your hand away from her, the cloth sailed to the floor as you looked at her. Eyes wide in panic.

“I am not your goddamn child. I can take care of myself.”

Your wives' usually warm eyes pierced your heart even more. Was this really the same woman who would carry you to bed every night, even after grueling training and rehab sessions?

The tears you had breathed away were back, a painful sensation in your eyes as Alexia continued to devour the meal you had prepared with so much excitement to tell her as if it didn't mean anything.

“This tastes like shit. Not even good for cooking.” She threw the fork on the plate, the clattering sound ripping you out of your shock-induced trance. “Do you want me to make you something different?

Your wife looked terrifying. Her eyes were wide open with small pupils that moved around quickly, looking you up and down before making their way through the house. The rest of her face was stoic, a facade she had perfected over the years. One that she didn’t usually use with you.

“No. I don’t want new food. I want you to get yourself together.”

The room filled with a heavy silence that nearly made you gasp for air. What did she mean?

“Amore I don’t know what has gotten into you, but maybe we should just go for a quick walk? Get some fresh air?”

That was the final nail in the coffin for the footballer, who stood up with such force, that the chair slid back and toppled over with a startling noise.

“Fresh air? You want fresh air?” She was getting in your face now, hunching a little to really get close. “Do you know what I want?”

Her breath was warm as it hit your nose.

Alcohol. You could smell alcohol.

She was a mean drunk, snapping at anyone who dared to get too close to her, her dog, or you. But just like her stern face, you were usually safe from her drunken attitude. Your wife always pushed you behind her as soon as anything looked like trouble.

This was new and you hated it.

“What do you want Ale?”

the defender had emptied your cup of coffee in one go, slamming the mug down on the counter.

“What do I want? I a housewife that can actually do her fucking job!” She was yelling now, some of the words accentuated with harsh hand movements and slight pushes to your shoulders.

“And look at how you let yourself go. Fucking pathetic! How can I even show myself in public with you?”

Shit that hurt.

You were finally pregnant with a very much wanted child, and she acted like this after leaving you alone for such a long time.

“Gained so much weight it’s-”

“I’m pregnant.”

You didn't yell. You didn’t shout. You said it with a normal voice. Well as normal as you could with tears threatening to spill.

But it was enough to quiet the drunk blonde. 

“Pregnant? You’re pregnant?”

It felt as if she was looking at you for the first time when her eyes softened and her whole body slumped. She fucked up. And she knew it.

In a frenzy you started packing things, throwing stuff into a suitcase while your wife tried to stop you. “Where are you going? Amore, please! I am so sorry!”

But it was too late.

With a suitcase and Alexia’s car, you made your way to Eli’s house, you had no one in Spain, all your family back home, so you decided to turn to your wife's mother who loved you to no end and had spent a lot of time at your house while Alexias had been ‘busy’ the last few weeks.

Alexia watched as you left. You were pregnant with a child that she wanted so badly, and she fucked it up.

Tomorrow she will make up for it. She really will.

[kawaiianimeredhead]

Ya know I stressed so much about the damn call that it almost feels like I made it already considering how I rehearsed and wrote some things down and I feel exhausted and even more dumb because like panic attack over so now the realization of like how dumb that was don't look sets it but also I still have to make a call and still feel stupid that I can't bring myself to do it so ya know super fun times all around I am just having a fucking time over here yall

[loveinhawkins]

Steve thinks he’s doing a good job at hiding it, but then Eddie catches his eye right as he’s limping out of the RV and… huh, maybe not.

Eddie, with panicked urgency—which, in Steve’s opinion, is admittedly sweet but unnecessary—asks if the bites are bothering him again.

“No, dude, it’s nothing,” Steve says. “It’s literally nothing.”

Eddie doesn’t look at all reassured.

Goddamn it, Steve thinks. Better rip off the band aid and hope it’s not too mortifying.

“It’s not the bites. It’s… um. My feet.”

Eddie glances down but there’s nothing to see; as soon he’d entered The War Zone, Steve had crammed his feet into the first pair of combat boots he could find.

“Oh,” Eddie says, the penny dropping. “Oh, shit. Yeah, hang on, just…”

He looks around, humming in thought, then grabs a bottle of water with decisiveness, and yeah, Steve thinks, this is gonna be incredibly mortifying.

But he can’t find a way to wriggle out of it without making the whole thing a way bigger deal than it needs to be—so he ends up sat in the grass, wincing as he pries off his boots.

It is, in a word, gross.

“Don’t know why they’re bugging me so damn much,” Steve says just to fill the silence. He huffs self-effacingly, goes to wiggle his toes before deciding ow, better not and ew, better not. “It’s, like, hardly anything compared to…”

He gestures to the bandage wrapped around him.

“Well, you weren’t walking on your stomach,” Eddie points out.

He pours out water onto some tissues he’s rustled up and gets to work.

Steve keeps waiting for the embarrassment to well and truly set in.

But… it doesn’t.

Eddie doesn’t once make a crack about how awful his feet look.

Instead he launches into a story of how, against his uncle’s sage advice, he’d gone to school in a new pair of boots (his birthday present) without breaking them in first.

It was freshman year, so Eddie’s whole look hadn’t been solidified yet. But he was determined to make it work—stomping around the school (“Were any lunch tables harmed?” Steve asks, and Eddie warmly tells him to shut up), steadfastly ignoring the growing discomfort.

At the end of the day, he’d taken his boots off and surveyed the damage with a melodramatic cry; “Kid, I really don’t know what to tell ya,” Wayne had huffed.

Eddie hams up his whiny, teenaged disgust so that he becomes the butt of the joke, and Steve suddenly feels like he’s watching a magician onstage—except he knows where to look, isn’t fooled by the sleight of hand: Eddie’s dramatics all serve as a distraction from the caked on dirt and blood he steadily cleans off Steve’s skin.

It’s quiet, unassuming. A hidden kindness.

Eddie doesn’t need to be doing this; Steve could quite easily take the bottled water and do it all himself—would probably get it over and done with in a matter of minutes, concealed around the other side of the RV, quick and perfunctory.

But you’re letting him, Steve thinks. Why are you letting him?

Eddie’s hands are cold, a pleasant contrast to the burning sensation all across his feet—honestly, he’d been hoping that so long as he just kept walking, he’d gradually become numb to it.

There’s a loud rip of plastic as a pack of baby wipes are opened. Eddie’s touch is light which soothes some of the sting, at least; he trails off into silence as he works, hissing sympathetically at whatever’s revealed.

“You’ve got a couple cracks,” he says, eyebrows drawn.

Steve gives an over exaggerated sigh. “Give it to me straight, doc. Am I gonna have to chop ‘em off?”

Eddie chuckles, but his concern doesn’t fade away.

“Just here,” he says, pointing, and the tip of his finger brushes against Steve’s heel—Steve tries not to, but he twitches reflexively, and Eddie flashes him an impish grin. “Ticklish?”

“Fuck off,” Steve says, smiling.

He kicks out, stops just short of actually hitting Eddie in the face.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Harrington,” Eddie says through laughter, pushing Steve’s foot away—gently. “I’ll take it to the grave.”

It’s a joke; Steve knows it’s a joke. But—

“You don’t need to do that, man. Robin already knows.”

Eddie stands up and stretches, gives Steve’s ankle a little pat.

“Think you’re all set—woah, wait,” he says as Steve reaches for the combat boots, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Uh, what’s it look like?”

“Harrington. You cannot put those on without socks again, you’re gonna summon my uncle; he’s got, like, a sixth sense about that kinda stuff.”

Eddie’s smile drops a little at that, a flash of melancholy breaking through.

God, you must really miss him, Steve thinks.

“I’m just making do. I don’t have any socks.”

“Yeah, you do.” Eddie’s smile returns in full force—puzzled, perhaps just a little fond. “You got me some, remember?”

Eddie retrieves a pair from the RV and, that’s right, Steve had forgotten: he’d bought a whole pack during their first grocery trip, after Eddie had made an offhand comment about feeling cold in the boathouse.

Poor guy, Steve had thought as they walked through The Upside Down. This is cold on a whole new level.

The socks are thick and warm. Steve pulls on the boots, relishing the fact that his toes no longer scream in protest as he does so.

He tightens the laces; Eddie’s sat down opposite him again.

“There. Ready for battle,” Steve says.

Eddie’s eyes flicker over the combat boots, then Steve’s whole get-up—and there’s nothing teasing in his gaze now, as if he’s seeing everything in another light. Like the gravity of it all has just hit him.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Battle.”

“Hey, Eddie. Don’t worry.”

Eddie huffs with a wan smile. “Wow. And just like that, I won’t.”

Steve nudges him with his foot. Gentle. “M’not gonna ruin your handiwork.”

Eddie doesn’t reply.

Steve stands, tries a short walk in place. It’ll work. It has to.

“I’d just do it again,” Eddie says suddenly. “If… I—I wouldn’t mind.”

Steve pauses. Offers Eddie a hand and pulls him up.

“I wouldn’t mind either,” Steve says softly.

And then he lets go of Eddie’s hand.

Standing tall, he starts to round everyone up for the drive back—and wishes them all a future of simple fixes: of superficial cracks, easy to patch up.

[onemillionvolts]

genshin men + random drabbles

18+. MDNI. forgive me for being this down bad. i am very sick and i wanted to write without a certain theme.

ft. venti, kaeya, dainsleif, zhongli, heizou

warnings: oral sex (f. receiving), mean kaeya :(, creampie, cockwarming, pussy slapping, spit, desk sex

☆ VENTI

venti is bubbly as ever as he goes down on you, eyes lidded as his kisses lead down your stomach, peppering along your bare thighs, lips finally landing on your cunt after what feels like an eternity. his kisses meet your clit before he begins to suck at your sensitive bud, grinning slightly against your drooling cunt as he listens to your frequent moans—music to his ears, truly.

venti's lips trail down, his tongue acquainting itself with your folds. it's in no time that he's completely drunk off of your taste, any rhythm he had to the motion of his tongue being entirely lost. his mouth is spastic, similar to everything else he does. venti mutters something against your soaked cunt, but there's no way to possible understand him.

all you can understand at this point is how good his mouth feels, how his mouth collecting your juices guides you closer to your orgasm. your thighs wrap firm around his head as each lewd swipe of his tongue coaxes you further towards your climax, until it all finally lets loose—your back arches as you cum on venti's tongue. he sees it as his reward—as he laps up every little drop, only coming away from your cunt once he's done so—his reward for pleasing you like a good boyfriend should.

☆ KAEYA

"just the tip," kaeya tells you. those three sugar-coated words are the catalyst to make you bend over the bed for him, allowing kaeya to tug your panties down and push the tip of his cock into your cunt. you grip the sheets, a soft moan coming from your lips. "kae, you said..." you stammer, interrupted by a throaty chuckle. "that is just the tip, princess."

"buuuut..." he trails off, watching you writhe under him with a grin as he pushes his hips forward, inching more of his cock into you. "how could i resist?" he muses with faux sincerity. not that you can complain, instantly clenching around him as he begins to fuck into you. kaeya's hands take a firm grip of your hips as his hips stroke, his thick cock stretching you out so perfectly, molding your gummy walls around it like he did every single time.

"went from 'just the tip' to letting me finish inside, right?" kaeya teases as he fucks you, your back arched and eyes squeezing shut as his cock drags along your walls. all you can do is mewl out a weak 'yes' as you cum on his cock, arms giving out as your upper body falls to the mattress, giving kaeya the leverage to fuck you as he pleases, only stopping when he's pumped your cunt full of his warm seed.

☆ DAINSLEIF

dain is buried balls deep inside of you, and yet the both of you are so incredibly needy. with his hips stalled, the blond watches your body contort and squirm, eyes silently begging, pleading for him to do anything. unfortunately for you, dainsleif has far too much restraint—so his hips don't move, not one bit.

he gives you a few seconds of mercy as you cockwarm him, letting you needily grind your hips against his, but your fun is soon brought to a screeching halt as dain grabs your hips in his firm hands, holding you in place and drawing an exaggerated moan from your lips. "that's it...nice and still, love."

his face is stoic, the light dust of pink over his cheeks being the only tell, the only tell that he's just as desperate as you are. dain's cock twitches with need inside you, his occasional growns deepening as he tightens his already harsh grip on your hips. he leans in, close, expression burning in arousal. "i need to take you...right now."

☆ ZHONGLI

zhongli simply can't help himself. he can't help himself, not when your cunt is so pretty on display for him, dripping wet and looking like a goddamn masterpiece in his eyes. his fingers run along your folds, pointer and index pushing past your entrance, before pulling out. he admires your slick on his fingers through half-lidded eyes.

his digits part your folds, his gentle touches making you even wetter, even more aroused and desperate for zhongli to do something. instead, he spits on your soaked cunt, causing your walls to clench around nothing. "so gorgeous.." his silky voice groans as he spits again.

his hand ghosts over your weeping pussy, before lightly coming down on it, slapping your cunt with a partially cupped hand a few times... never too harsh, just enough to create a light jolt of satisfaction. by now, zhongli's eyes are wide with wonder and arousal as he continues to toy with your poor cunt.. maybe if you're lucky, he'll realize just how badly his cock aches with need and put it to use.

☆ HEIZOU

heizou is entirely in control as he bends you over his desk, hands running over the curves of your ass. he flips your skirt up with ease, fingers curling under the hem of your panties and pulling them down in one fell swoop. "i can't believe it took me this long to bend you over my desk," heizou remarks as you hear the jangling of his belt, and are soon met with his tip against the entrance of your cunt.

you grip the edge of his desk as he pushes into you, not stopping until he bottoms out with a low groan. he wastes no time in burying his hips against yours, hands firm on your ass, fingertips digging into your soft flesh. "so wet 'n tight f'me," heizou praises, his breath heavy against your neck as he fucks into you with vigor.

your cunt is sucking him in so well, so well that he has to place a palm on the desk to stabilize himself as he thrusts back and forth, your sopping wet cunt inviting his thick cock in with each rut of his hips. fuck, he can't hold back—neither can you.. it's without warning that you cum on heizou's cock, squeezing tight on his length which causes him to release deep inside of you, painting your gummy walls with his hot seed.

[glorified-red]

I'm seeing all the hate The Sun & The Star is getting on this hellsite and its so obvious that people aren't reading this book for what it is.

It's literally a children's novel written for children. The book is supposed to be easily digestible and stupid and explicitly written because kids books are supposed to be completely laid out.

Rick has always written dorky things in his books but he has also prioritized writing about real world issues and struggles. He's written about trauma, abuse, PTSD, depression, anxiety, etc. For years.

So here he is writing about deep rooted insecurities and self-doubt and learning to accept all those dark parts of yourself as well as others, AND tackling internalized homophobia and queer struggles, and we're upset the book is too focused on the relationship?

The entire point of this book is to teach the audience how to navigate a rocky relationship with compassion and understanding. It's showing that relationships aren't perfect, you can be upset with your partner and your partner can be upset with you but the point is that you talk about it and you try to do better.

Is it such a bad thing for young teens to be learning this?

Is it such a bad thing for them to see that love is effort? And can and will be flawed and that's okay??

This is the first time we've seen this topic discussed by Rick and I've never seen a book tackle this topic because we always see the Hollywood depiction of love---yet that's unrealistic.

This is showing that love can be flawed but still be oh so beautiful. That you can be traumatized and still worthy of love.

And I am so proud of Rick and Mark for not only showing a healthy attempt at a relationship but also showing countless times that those lessons apply to any relationship. They put significant stress on platonic and familial relationships and how that love is also effort, compassion, and understanding.

Yes, it focused on Solangelo a lot.

Yes, it had soooo many flaws that even I cringed and got disappointed at times.

But the fact that we got a book that finally lets two characters talk about their feelings is incredible, and the fact that this new generation gets this book??

If I had a book like this when I was young, showing me how to navigate conflict and that relationships CAN be hard?? My god, the healing that lesson could have done.

Perspective is everything for this book. Hell, perspective was everything in HoO. It showed that how characters are perceived is very different from how they perceive themselves.

Leo was literally always shown as comedic relief and nothing more until we saw how incredibly lonely and sad that kid was from his point of view.

Percy was always said to be intimidating and powerful, but in his perspective, he's a kid who has no clue what he's doing.

So yea, in this book, it may seem like these characters have shifted, but once again, Rick is relying so heavily on perspective.

Nico was edgy and depressed for as long as we knew him, even in BoO when we first got his POV. But now that he's accepted, loved, and healing, why are we getting mad that he's a dork again---how he was before all the trauma? Why are we mad that Nico is growing and healing and becoming himself again because he feels safe enough to do so.

Ofc he's gonna feel different than how he was written a canon year ago.

And this is the first time we've had Wills perspective. He's always been seen as this sunshine happy character but we FINALLY get some acknowledgement that he's deeply terrified. He's shown as a leader and camp counselor but he's got anxiety written in his bones.

He felt like a burden this book because he's a healer. He's absolutely terrified to be a fighter and yet we got to see him become one in his own way. He was out of his element but he was trying.

Because he's so goddamn afraid of losing someone else.

Call Will an asshole all you want, but Nico had been to Tartarus and the Underworld more times than he could count.

Will is literally walking into a place he's never been to before and is the complete opposite of anything he's ever known---for Nico. The comments he makes about plants and lack of sunshine? It wasn't him being a dick, he was him being genuinely confused because hes only ever known earth logic.

If I saw flowers blooming in a pitch black room I'd be a little confused too. He says the Underworld is depressing because it's literally draining his energy.

You yell at Will for not being open-minded yet won't comment on the fact that Nico hardly made an attempt either. Nico could have been more understanding about the fact that Will, a guy who's exploring this place that's slowly killing him, might not like the place at first because he doesn't understand it.

Because Will wanted to understand.

And the second Will finally began to understand the beauty of the Underworld, he was nothing but supportive.

You get mad at Will for making mistakes yet refuse to acknowledge that he learned from them.

The Sun & The Star tackled a hard topic that doesn't get talked about often. It portrayed a queer relationship and it emphasized characters who learned and grew. It's different from other Rick books because that was the point. (And it wasn't just Rick writing it)

This book was about accepting change within yourself and "daring to be different."

And the fact that you can't even accept a book that does the same just shows that the lessons this book taught went straight over your head.

I've never been more disappointed in this fandom. We begged for this book. We begged for queer representation. Yet here we are criticizing every little thing about it as if we aren't lucky to be getting this book in the first place---a book about two side characters.

This book had soooo many flaws but it wasn't a bad book.

Isn't that the point of it all? To love something even though it's flawed? That flaws dont necessarily mean it's broken and bad forever?

It's okay to hate a book.

That doesn't mean it's a bad book.

It just wasn't for you.

There are dozens of other books in this fandom to love and cherish, but don't hate this book just because it's different from what we're used to.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

one thing i love about totk’s story is the sense of RESPECT the world has for link. like compared to botw, where he’s this kind of fabled failure of a hero (similar to zelda) who everyone thinks is dead, whose ultimate enemy (clammy ganon) is a beast devoid of personality who *can’t* feel any type of way about him.

but in totk, he is so respected and known for what he has done for the world in the past five years. even when npcs don’t recognize him AS himself, they speak of him highly. yiga clan members hate him so personally and use his actual name. they have fanart of him on the walls. zelda speaks of him SO highly in the past, convincing the sages who are total strangers to tell their descendants to assist him. the sages, in turn, assist him without question, especially the ones who were already his friends. zelda convinces rauru to put his absolute faith in link, and that’s how we get the most badass cutscene in the game: rauru imprisoning ganondorf.

because holy shit, that cutscene. the music is what elevates it, but what’s already there is so good. re: the music, rauru’s theme flowing into link’s triumphant theme during his speech about link beating ganondorf, then flowing back into the resigned resolution his own. goddamn. and then the lingering hyrule castle/gdorf theme fading as he’s imprisoned. goddamn.

and ganondorf (here’s the big point of the post) actually takes link seriously. like the whole “i look forward to meeting him” was partially aloof on his part, but this man was DETERMINED to insult link the second he woke up after this confrontation. he is pissed that people respect link and think he’s capable of stopping him. it feels so personal on his side of things, unlike even windwaker, where ganondorf had a lot of personal stakes and was a complex character, but saw link and zelda more as pawns then adversaries. and in oot he’s straight up just like “uh who’s this kid,” and in twilight princess link doesn’t even know ganondorf is the real villain until the end of the game.

ganondorf meets link in the opening of the game and takes his arm, his sense of normalcy, and best friend away from him. the entire game is link learning how the hell this happened in the past, seeing ganondorf’s arrogant personality and pure contempt for everything he stands for, and wanting very badly to not only save the world he loves, but also his best friend, who sacrificed herself so he may stop ganondorf.

what i’m saying is, that final confrontation feels SO earned. and it’s incredible—the way ganondorf taunts link during the fight, takes cheap shots at his arm, and then essentially kills his own personhood out of a refusal to admit defeat.

there were disappointing things about ganondorf in totk, but this was not one of them. both his and rauru’s characters entirely justified themselves over the course of the story. a month or so out, i am still so pleased with this game.

[the-californicationist]

Good Fences (Fluffuary #13)

FEB13: Night Out

“Did she book out the whole place, then?” John asked, pulling his pearl buttons through their starched holes as he dressed into his shirt.

“Yep, very fancy,” you told him, fixing his tie and feeling the silk slip through your manicured fingers.

Your best friend, Cana, had just graduated from her master’s program, and she had invited you to her graduation party. When you mentioned that you were housing three additional British soldiers, she had extended the invitation to include them most enthusiastically.  

The boys had dressed up nice. Cana had indeed booked out an entire rooftop bar, and as a woman who liked to party, she was really pulling out all the stops tonight. 

She was dressed all in black, surrounded by her classmates and a few of your mutual friends, but when she saw you coming through the doors with your literal army squad, she made a bee-line straight for you. Her bejeweled arms were spread wide, her perfectly set curls bounced as she ran, flinging herself into your arms and squealing her hellos. 

“Cana!” You laughed, holding her as she spun around you with glee, “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you.”

“Goddamn, babe. Me too,” she huffed, exasperated and sarcastically funny. 

You watched her roll her eyes and smile, 

“Thank fuck grad school is done. Now, introduce me! You brought dinner, I see.”

“Oh, God, Cana. You can’t say that!” You protested. 

But, Kyle heard her comment and brushed you aside, reaching for her hand and taking it in his,

“Let the woman speak, babes. She looks hungry.”

Cana giggled, high pitched and joyful, letting Kyle lead her back to her table. You looked at John and mouthed an apology. 

“Dinnae fash, bonnie. Gaz is in his own version of heaven,” Johnny chuckled, “He never could turn down a curvy lass.”

“She’s a wild one, but I love her,” you explained, trying to dismiss your friend’s audacious behavior.

“She’s grand, love. Let me buy you a drink,” John wrapped his hand around your waist and pulled you in to his body. His soft clothes crumpled against your side, and you noticed John’s palm sliding lower and lower down your back. 

“Speaking of blokes in heaven,” Simon quipped, taking a long drag from his cigarette. He cast a long gaze at his captain, and you thought you saw the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Aye,” John puffed up a little, defensively, “And what of it?”

“Heaven looks good on you, Cap’n,” Johnny clapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the bar, “You were sayin’ somethin’ about a wee drink?”

You talked and drank and laughed all night with John and his friends. Cana couldn’t keep her hands off of Kyle, and he seemed to be loving every moment of it. By the end of the evening, your feet were aching, but you had heard story after story of John being the hero and even more stories of him being the victim of his men’s pranks. They seemed to have an incredible bond together that made you admire John even more. 

“Are you havin’ fun tonight, love?” John asked, whispering in your ear, letting the whiskers of his beard tickle your neck and sensitive lobe as he did. 

You turned your head to him, smiling, whispering just as low,

“Yes, I am. But, I can’t stop staring at you in that suit.”

“And you in that dress. Mmm…” John ran a long finger up your thigh, pushing the dress’s hem higher and higher until it was truly scandalous. 

“Maybe you should take me home,” you suggested, your eyes full of lust, “So, you can take it off.”

“Grab your purse. Now.”

Check out the schedule here.

AO3 Link

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Hazbin Hotel residents and staff lineup! (+ Cherri Bomb)

They are all done!!

I am so happy with all of them and am incredibly excited to continue adding to this lineup! I’ve already got 2/4 extras finished so we’ll see how things go! I hope I’ll be able to finish them but after 19 hours of drawing for 5 days I think I may explode eventually.

In order from shortest to tallest we have: Niffty (4’6”), Van/Vaggie (5’11”), Charlie (6’6”), Husker (6’7”), Cherri Bomb (6’8”), Alastor (7’0”), Sir Pentious (7’5”), Angel Dust (8’4”).

Very tall people!! Wow!

It’s really nice to see them all together like this and not all of them entirely red and pink. I like red but my god use it in moderation, christ.

For anyone wondering or wanting to do something with these, here are my colour palettes for each of them.

Some of the colours in Angel’s are from other artworks so don’t mind that. Keep in mind my designs aren’t really TV friendly in my style, but I’m sure theres a way to simplify them to fit the criteria. Some of their proportions are also a bit questionable but honestly I like it. I know some people hate how Vivzie gives angel those weird feet but I’m unreasonably attached to them and I love his fucked up legs.

I really love when lineups feel alive, I think I pulled it off well enough! I want to kiss all of them on the head except Alastor because I hate him, but also half of these people are infinitely taller than me. I believe their personalities are much more clear through my poses than whatever the current ones have going on

(I didn’t create or format this colour palette lineup but if you know who did please tell me!!)

All of the characters are so goddamn pink and red it hurts my eyes

Ive said it like a billion times but I should be able to tell whats happening in a scene from a quick glance or at least where people are placed. Maybe it’s just my shit eyes but like seriously man.

I’m probably gonna add more to this post soon but I have 3 more redesigns finished and I really really want to show them off because they alone took 8 hours to finish. Im very impatient and I need to show off my horrible creatures immediately.📺🧵💡

[vroomvroomwee]

I don't think enough people realise how incredible Aziraphale is.

He's always known how good and kind Crowley is. Even from the beginning. Now imagine being in his place, after meeting such a wonderful and sweet angel, and hearing that he's fallen, that he's evil and wicked. No wonder he was sceptical and on edge at the garden... except Crowley was still the same, chatty, witty, and funny angel he met before the beginning. Crowleys fall terrifies him because in his mind, if someone like that can get sent to Hell, then what hope is there for me?

So he learns just how thin the line is between being an angel and a demon, just how close he's cutting it, just how little it takes for him to fall as well.

In his eyes, Crowley's brilliant. He's resourceful, intelligent, capable, everything he wants to be. Everything he's told he should be. And it creates so much confusion in his mind. How can someone like that fall while I'm still here? And it doesn't help one single bit that he's falling in love with him.

Aziraphale isn't stupid. Despite what everyone says, he's very in tune with his emotions. So much so that Crowley fails to keep up with his logic and decision-making. He realises that he's falling in love with Crowley, and that causes panick in him. He's an angel. He's not supposed to fall for temptation.

So he has two options: try to prove to himself Crowley's good and therefore justify his own feelings, or to prove Crowley's evil, and that's why he fell. So... in a way, he does both.

Every time Crowley tries to convince him of his malice, Aziraphale proves him wrong, sees right through him. All the while constantly putting a wedge between them, of good and evil. "But, you, are fallen." "I'm good, you, are evil." Even though he knows deep down that's not the truth, which is precisely why he's saying it, he knows Crowley is good, just as he knows he himself isn't fully. And no one must ever find that out.

Not only is he keeping Crowley at a distance for his own safety, but also for Crowleys. Sacrificing both their happiness for each others safety. He knows precisely what Hell will do to him if they ever find out how kind he really is.

And it would be very very simple if he just stopped hanging out with Crowley, except... he can't. No matter how hard he tries he's always pulled back to him. And over time he's testing his limits, what can I do? Am I allowed to do this? Food? That's forbidden? The Arangement? etc.

And you can't really blame him for fearing Falling. Not just burning in boiling sulfur as each of his cells is being transformed in the most agonising way, but also having to spend eternity there as well as the humiliation and resentment he'll get from Heaven. "My lot don't send rude notes." he knows how horrible and terrifying it is down there, and he is all too aware how he won't be able to cope. Too weak, too mellow, too soft.

Crowleys kindness is constantly putting him on edge because he just can't understand why he's a demon. While angels like Gabriel and Michael, who always put him down, are apathetic towards humanity, are narcissistic and emotionless... are still up there. 6000 years he's spent wondering when his time will come. When he'll be pulled down to Hell.

He's so goddamn kind that it took him 6000 years to realise Heaven is not all that it should be. Kinder than Heaven could ever hope to be (and after the "stay back" from ep6 we can see how thay he is capable of being harsh and ruthless, which means he actively chooses to be kind, which makes him all the more extraordinary and astonishing for it). And I'm not even going to go into the strength it takes to manage to break out of the brainwashing that Heaven has done to him. Thousands of years of being humiliated, feeling worthless, not good enough, not angelic enough, not even appreciated. And despite all that feedback and ridicule, he's never given in, never relented, never let anyone modify or change him, has never lost his kindness, his softness, his generosity even after all that he's seen and been through. And that is so fucking incredible.

Validation and praise being at his fingertips, if only he could let go of his individuality, his uniqueness. Of himself. Thousands of years of it, and he has never surrendered to it. Never betrayed himself, kept his pride and his self-worth despite other people trying to rid him of it.

And he knows this. He's too clever not to. He knows just how thin the ice is he's standing on. Even at the beginning, which is not long after the Fall if I might point out, he's defying orders and keeping Adam and Eve safe, risking his own safety for the safety of others. And he still doesn't back down.

But he can't for the life of him keep away from Crowley. Because of how much love he has for him, how much affection. "He's risking his entire existence," and he'll do it again because that's who he is. (Not many people will put their lives on the line for the person that tried to annihilate them, completely destroy them in every plane of existence. Actually, no one ever will. Except him.)

He. Never. Backs. Down. Not from Armaggedon and not from the Second Coming.

It's not that he doesn't love Crowley enough, it's that he loves him too much. This is an angel so full of love that he's scattering himself, breaking himself, tearing himself apart, trying to give it to everyone. To Crowley, to humanity, to Earth. He's risking destruction for the things he loves. Both physically and emotionally. He would sacrifice his own happiness, his own future with Crowley just to save humanity. And he does it again and again and that is so fucking amazing, so fucking incredible that I don't believe such a selfless character exists in any other piece of media or television.

(Also, this is all mostly referring to his emotional strength, but let's not forget how he faced literal Satan and smote around 20 demons in just a matter of seconds.)

Edit: Just wanted to add what one of you pointed out in the comments.

Aziraphale realises that running away with Crowley isn't really a relaxing and peaceful life as Crowley thinks it is. Far away from humanity and it's pleasures that they both love and engage with, something that brought them close in the first place due to their shared love for it, and constantly on the run from Heaven and Hell. Aziraphale is doing this for Crowley, so that he can be happy, so that both of them can be together. Not only that but he offered Crowley his angel status back, since he thought that would make him happy again, since he hoped that he could one day see that same smile that Crowley had when they first met, that smile that he hasn't been able to bring back all these years.

Aziraphale is now in Heaven, the last place he wants to be, the place he barely escaped with his life from, a place that hates him, filled with angels that despise him and want to see him suffer or worse, and he's utterly and completely alone.

He's trying to save the entire universe alone.

Think about that for a little bit.

Edit 2: I think it's worth noting that Aziraphale isn't perfect. And that's the point. He doesn't need to be perfect. He's naive and gullible and sees the world in black and white. He still needs to learn, to grow, to deal with these things. Soon enough, he'll realise that despite all the hope he has that he could fix Heaven, it just can't be mended, something Crowley has learned a long time ago and desperately tries to shoe him. He'll realise the system is corrupt, and no matter how hard he tries, it won't change because it wasn't designed that way. And it just makes him all the more brilliant. He isn't perfect. He has flaws, and he makes mistakes. He's an angel, but he's the most human of them all. And he's incredible all the more for it.

[hollyoongs]

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

"Nothing will ever come between us 'Cause i'll be standing right next to you"

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: non idol boyfriend!jay and fem!reader 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: SURPRISE MY POOKIE (a.k.a @glitterjay)! This is a little late, but some of your moots decide to surprise you with this gift...

💌 𝗠𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀 [𝟓] @st4rwon: congrats on hitting 1k c!! you definitely deserve it 🤍 i absolutely love all your works and am so proud to see that they are being appreciated ! keep up the amazing work :) @hollyoongs: this drabble is for… jupi! I'm so glad I can have such a nice and lovely friendship with you and to be present in this big milestone, you deserve it so much and tbh I can't wait to see what the future holds to you, such an amazing, wonderful and incredible human being, congrats my 5'7 jupi! 💟 @kwiwin: Hey C! Congrats on reaching 1k, it's freaking awesome how so many people recognize real talent out there. Even if we've been moots for just a little time I am proud of you and what you have achieved! Keep stunning the world with your (beautifully written) stories ♡ @heeslut4life: hi c! congrats on hitting 1k!! i’m so proud of you<3 you’ve done so goddamn well, you have amazing fics and you are an amazing person:) i know we don’t really interact a lot but i hope you know that i wish nothing but the best for you💗 keep going, you’re such beautiful and wonderful person<33

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 2: this is also a short drabble and you will definitly find some stuff here ;), HAPPY MILESTONE! 𝘄.𝗰: +1.8k

"And the first place, being voted on by 1128 judges, goes to..." 

And then your name was announced with your university, making you stand up after a few seconds of shock.

As you walked up to the podium, the weight of the moment settled on your shoulders like a comforting embrace. You couldn't believe it—your name, your university, Decelis Academy, being called out as the winner. It felt surreal, like a dream you never dared to have. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the faces of the cheering crowd into a colorful mosaic of joy and pride.

Glancing at your friends, their beaming faces illuminated by the glow of their phones capturing this momentous occasion, you felt a surge of gratitude. They had been with you through it all—the late nights, the doubts, and the struggles. And now, here you were, basking in the spotlight of recognition.

"Jay, look at your girl!" one of your friends shouted amidst the cheers, drawing your attention to the sea of faces. You couldn't help but smile and offer a small wave to the camera, feeling a rush of affection for your supportive circle. They had been your pillars of strength, propelling you forward even when you felt like giving up.

Reaching the podium, you accepted the prize with trembling hands, the weight of it sinking in with each passing moment. More than a thousand people had chosen your work and had seen its value and its impact. It was a humbling realization, one that filled you with a sense of purpose and determination to continue pushing the boundaries of your craft and enjoying it while doing it.

After the ceremony, the celebrations began in earnest.

The celebrations continued long into the night, transitioning seamlessly from the pulsating energy of the dance floor to the intimate ambiance of a lavish dinner party. Your friends, ever the consummate hosts, had spared no expense in creating a feast fit for royalty. The dining table, adorned with flickering candles and delicate floral arrangements, beckoned you and your friends to indulge in a culinary symphony of flavors.

As you settled into your seats, the clinking of glasses and the gentle hum of conversation filled the air, setting the stage for an evening of heartfelt camaraderie and celebration.

"So, my dear," one of your friends began with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Tell us, what's next for the illustrious winner of the Decelis Academy? Any plans to conquer the world?"

You laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within you like a spring of joy. "Oh, you know me," you replied with a playful grin. "I've always been a dreamer. And now, with this recognition, who knows what the future holds? The world might just have to brace itself for what's to come."

The table erupted into laughter, each of your friends offering words of encouragement and excitement for the journey ahead. They had seen you weather the storms, witnessed the unwavering determination in your eyes, and now they reveled in the triumph of your success.

"I have no doubt that you'll conquer whatever comes your way," another one of your friends chimed in, her voice laced with genuine admiration. "You're a force to be reckoned with, my dear, and I couldn't be prouder to call you my friend."

Touched by their words, you raised your glass in a silent toast, the clinking sound echoing through the room like a symphony of celebration. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of friendship and the promise of tomorrow, you felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over you.

"To dreams realized and journeys yet to unfold," you declared, your voice tinged with emotion. "Thank you, all of you, for being a part of this incredible journey. I couldn't have done it without each and every one of you by my side."

The sentiment was met with nods of agreement and murmurs of affection, a tangible reminder of the bond that held you all together. As the evening wore on and the laughter flowed freely, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment settle in your heart—a feeling that, no matter what the future held, you would always have these cherished moments and these cherished friends to light the way.

As the night wound down and the last revelers bid their farewells, your friends exchanged knowing glances and shared secretive smiles. "Come on, let's take you home," they said, linking arms with you as they guided you towards your apartment. 

The car trip to your apartment was a whole carpool karaoke, playing your favorite songs and making the night more magical than it already was. There was only one thing missing, and it was your boyfriend.

Jay and you were a couple for three years already, both meeting at university by a mutual friend, who clicked almost immediately. From the moment your eyes met, there was an undeniable spark, a magnetic pull drawing you closer together. His presence illuminated your world, and his smile lit up even the darkest of days. In his arms, you found solace, warmth, and an unwavering sense of belonging. Jay was not just handsome and intelligent; he was the embodiment of kindness, his gestures tender and sincere, and his words a soothing melody that danced through your soul. With him, you felt like you had won the grandest of lotteries, for in his embrace, you found not just love but the truest essence of romance.

But the only problem was his usual business trips with his dad to help the company that owns Mr. Park, which you understood. You were okay with him not being there because he was always present, but it was hard not to feel sad about it.

As you stepped out of the car and approached your apartment building, a wave of exhaustion washed over you, mingling with the residual excitement of the evening's festivities. You bid your friends goodnight with hugs and promises to meet up again soon, feeling grateful for their unwavering support and the unforgettable memories you had shared, but being slightly weirded out by their suspicious smiley faces.

As you entered your apartment, the familiar surroundings enveloped you like a warm embrace, wrapping you in a cocoon of comfort. The gentle glow of lamplight cast soft shadows across the room, imbuing the space with a sense of tranquility that was both soothing and welcoming.

With a contented sigh, you kicked off your shoes and made your way towards your bedroom, eager to sink into the welcoming embrace of your bed and let the events of the day wash over you like a gentle tide. But as you pushed open the door, a gasp escaped your lips, and your heart skipped a beat.

There, standing in the center of the room, was Jay, your boyfriend, looking every bit the epitome of charm and sophistication in his sleek black suit. His eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and adoration as he held out a big bouquet of white tulips, their delicate petals swaying gently in the air. No wonder your friends were smiling like that.

"Jay? What are you doing here?" You exclaimed, your voice a mixture of surprise and delight. You couldn't believe your eyes—just moments ago, you had resigned yourself to the fact that he was miles away, attending to his father's business affairs. And yet, here he was, standing before you like a vision come to life.

With a smile that melted your heart, Jay stepped forward, his eyes alight with warmth and affection. "I couldn't stay away any longer," he confessed, his voice a soft whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "I wanted to be here to celebrate with you, to share in this moment of joy and triumph."

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to find the words to express the overwhelming rush of emotion coursing through you. "But I thought you were..."

"Surprise," Jay interjected, his smile widening into a grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. "I wanted to make this night even more special for my sunshine, to show you just how much you mean to me."

With trembling hands, he offered you the bouquet of tulips, their sweet fragrance filling the air with a heady perfume that made your head spin. "To the sun I rotate to," he said, his voice filled with tenderness as you laugh. "To celebrate your incredible achievement and to remind you of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life every single day."

Overwhelmed by his gesture, you reached out and took the flowers, holding them close to your heart as if they were the most precious treasure in the world. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "Thank you for being here and for being a part of this moment with me."

But Jay wasn't done yet. With a playful twinkle in his eye, he gestured towards the bed, where a small pile of gifts lay waiting, wrapped in elegant paper and adorned with ribbons and bows.

"I couldn't come empty-handed," he said with a grin. "I wanted to shower you with tokens of my love and admiration, to show you just how proud I am of everything you've accomplished."

With trembling fingers, you reached for the nearest gift and began to unwrap it, your heart pounding in anticipation of what lay hidden beneath the layers of paper. And as you peeled back the wrapping, revealing the contents within, your breath caught in your throat, and tears of joy welled up in your eyes once more.

Inside was a beautiful necklace, delicate and intricate in design, its sparkling gems catching the light and casting a mesmerizing rainbow of colors across the room. It was a work of art, a testament to Jay's impeccable taste and his unwavering devotion to you.

"Oh, Jay!" you exclaimed, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's…it's beautiful."

But he wasn't finished yet. With a smile that made your heart skip a beat, he reached for another gift, presenting it to you with a flourish that made you giggle like a schoolgirl.

"And there's more where that came from," he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief. "But you'll have to wait and see."

"I need to kiss you so bad." You didn't wait too much; Jay did that for you. His hand being placed on his waist and the other one moving some strings of hair from your face, lips connecting with yours in a tender kiss, you missed each other so badly that you could feel other hearts from that simple action.

As you separate, he touches your forehead softly with his eyes close as you feel the warmth of his love.

"Remember that I don't care about how far I am or what I'm doing; I'll drop anything for you, darling."

And as you stayed there, surrounded by the warmth and love of the man who meant more to you than words could ever express, you knew that this night would be one you would cherish forever—a night of love that knew no bounds.

[atopvisenyashill]

my favorite targaryens are the women who have bastards. i am obsessed with the similarities and differences in circumstances and how they related to motherhood, because every goddamn lord in westeros has a bastard but NOBLE MOTHERS OF ILLEGITIMATE CHILDREN. oooh hell yeah. see my love for

saera, my jaehaerys hating teen idle icon who never married and didn’t want the iron throne (bc she’s smarter than the rest of her family) but definitely told her 3 sons to call themselves targaryens just to fuck with her dad

gael, all we know is that she literally slept in her mother’s bed bc alysanne was so clingy, fucked a singer, had a stillbirth, then killed herself but i’m obsessed with her for having pre marital sex in known prude bitch jaehaerys’ court, i find her so iconic and tragic i want to know more

rhaenyra, my precious meow meow who really stuck to her guns by getting her husband AND his daddy on her side only to fumble last minute by letting corlys name alyn and not joffrey as heir to driftmark or pushing for baela's inheritance. rip to a queen tho.

elaena not only manages to have THREE bastards from TWO DIFFERENT BABY DADDIES but she set all three of them up nicely by being insanely good at politics and math so everyone just ignored the fact that viserys plumm was obviously aegon’s and the waters twins established their own lil house without starting a civil war or succession crisis, something these people are famously bad at! elaena did that shit!!

daena the defiant, we do not know when she died but i keep imagining her raising daemon in the maiden vault and living vicariously through him, encouraging him to make these dodgy alliances with these dodgy lords because despite a lot of the blackfyre supporters being incredibly socially regressive, it's only through them she's ever been allowed even the dream of freedom and power, just imagining all the mommy issues daemon has gives me life

visenya since i feel her having a baby thru blood magic was probably like half of why aegon never showed an interest in maegor lmao he knew that baby was as visenya’s and the goat she sacrificed to make him, that’s why maegor has daddy issues, but also he has mommy issues bc she loved him but also made him with her witchy powers.

daella or rhae, whatever one of egg’s sisters that fucks dunk and passes the baby off as the evenstar’s kid, if that theory is what actually happened you’re an icon and i will stan you until the day i die for successfully pulling what rhaenyra, elaena, AND cersei all tried but couldn’t succeed and that’s your bastard inheriting the seat of your husband who is NOT the baby daddy and not causing a huge scandal over it, well done baby girl

[misserabella]

W ♡RSHIP ME

EDDIE MUNSON X FEM! INNOCENT CATHOLIC READER

REMINDER THAT IF YOU FEEL YOU COULD GET OFFENDED BY THIS POST THERE IS NO NEED TO READ IT! I WOULD HATE TO MAKE ANY OF YOU THINK THAT THAT WAS THE INTENTION OF IT WHEN IT TRULLY ISN'T, I DEEPLY RESPECT ALL TYPES OF RELIGIONS! &lt;3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!&lt;3

Synopsis;; you didn't know what was happening with you, only that you wanted to dance with the devil under the name of Eddie Munson.

inspired by amazing writers such as @eddiemunsonhotgf and @dinodinodin0 ♡

CW;; references to the bible and church (also, eddie is not a believer and talks about his sinning and also is harsh about god, AGAIN DON'T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY PLEASE), mocking of god, cursing, drug use, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, smut, p in v sex, masturbation, dacryphilia, worshipping kink, god kink, overstimulation, a little bit of perv!Eddie, squirting, spanking, non protected sex (GUYS STDS ARE REAL, WRAP THE DONG UP), cream pie, finger fucking, chocking, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

(this actually got a little bit out of hand…)

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

Word count;; 9k

†

“Pray to me. Worship me.”

To be honest, Eddie gave a absolute and incredibly huge fuck about ‘the above’. If there were rules any supposed God had put on a silly book then there was him to break every and each one of them.

It was easy really, look.

“Thou shalt not steal.”

Jesus, what the hell? And literally speaking. Come on, he was not really gonna die from lightning if he borrowed a couple of rings from the punk store, was he?

2. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.”

I mean… More than one mother he has already fucked, so there was that…

3. “Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

… Yeah…

4. “Thou shall not take the name of thy God in vain.”

God could suck his cock, honestly.

5. “Honor thy father and mother.”

Say what now? Didn’t knew her. And him? He could suck his cock too.

6. “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.”

Oh yeah, sure. No lies, blah, blah, sin!, blah, blah. He was always lying (justifiable). Even to himself, for fucks sake! If you went and asked him if he wanted to fuck you, will he say yes? Well, that was not a great example, but y’all get the point.

7. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods.”

Would you count as one of your father’s goods? ‘Cause if that’s the case… He couldn’t really help himself. He was going to make you his any way or the other.

8. “Thou shalt not kill.”

Well, except for that. He really hadn’t done that…

Well, as he was saying…

9. “Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day.”

With how you looked in that tiny little navy skirt and the way your tits pushed against your white catholic highschool shirt? He didn’t think he would be able to keep holy even in a normal day.

And lastly…

10. “I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt not have any gods before Me.”

Oh, but he had one. You.

You were this kind of fucking angel sent from heaven. With your beautiful and silky hair falling to your back in waves, the prettiest and shiny eyes he had ever seen and rosy fully glossed lips that parted to sing along with the church’s choir. With that wonderful body of yours that he would absolutely go down on his knees to worship, you and those curves, ass and thighs that he so has dreamed of making a mess of with his lips.

You had the sweetest voice and personality he has ever known, always so caring, so giving and so sensitive… Oh god, his cock pushed against his black jeans every single time a tear would cascade down your cheeks when you volunteered for those in need, too overwhelmed as you prayed for them.

He wanted so bad for you to pray for him instead, down on your knees, with those pretty lips…

He was no catholic, he never was. But for you? Jesus, he would even enroll in one of those goddamn religious schools, cut his hair and go around like a goddamn prep church boy spreading God’s word if that meant he could stay as close to you as he could.

You had noticed, of course. Who wouldn’t? He was the black sheep amongst all those white ones as the pastor went on and on towards the end of the mass. He was there every Sunday, just to see you. And sooner or later your eyes had drifted to the end of the room and met his. He felt as if he could die a happy man there, when you gave him a sweet smile before getting back to praying.

To your eyes he seemed… Different. Different than any other boy you had ever met. What was comprensible since you were always surrounded by your very well mannered and stiff classmates. If any of them were there, they would probably start saying something about how people like him would end up being abandoned by god and in hell.

You could almost hear them and your father to stay away from his kind when the priest announced that all of you shall receive communion bread from your neighbor. You didn’t know why, but before noticing, you were drifting away from the crowd and towards the back with one of the hosts in your hands, towards him.

His eyebrows rose when he noticed that you were approaching him, no one had before. So he felt clumsy as he stood up from the wood bench in which he had been sitting for the last one and a half hours.

Your eyes met his when you were close enough, and he simply stared at you, at your soft skin, long lashes and cute nose. He was taken back when your hands rose from below and towards his lips. Your cheeks were pink and your eyes darted towards one of the angels carved in the wood walls. He then understood what was going on when he noticed the little bread medallion on your fingers. Fuck, he hadn’t done the communion, so was he not supposed to eat that?

His eyes went back to your expecting face, who was now looking at his indecisive one, attentive.

Fuck it.

He thought as he leaned down and took it with his tongue. You felt your face redden when his bottom lip brush against your finger tips, his brown eyes closing as he leaned back tall, looking down at you with a smirk.

“Thanks, gorgeous.” you slightly jumped on your spot. His voice was so… You couldn’t even describe it with words. What it did to you, how your whole body seemed to have been set on fire and your hands trembled as you nodded, unable to even speak up.

You both stared at each other for what it seemed to be hours on end before you could recompose yourself and turn around to head back to your sit on the front. You were flushed, and you softly slapped your cheeks to focus. And you tried, you really tried, and yet, there you were, sneaking peeks to the metal head every now and then just to find out that he was already staring at you, making you stupidly blush every single time.

Oh yeah, Eddie loved mass now.

The best day of the week was Sunday. No discussion. Maybe a common teenager would actually prefer Friday, but Sunday was the only day of the week he actually got to see you, so that’s that. He could understand his uncle’s confused gaze every weekend when he would tell him he was going to church, but it was fun anyways. He could even see smoke coming out of his ears trying yo understand why him would be going to mass every week.

But oh, well. Anything to get a glimpse of you.

He couldn’t understand it either. It was like an obsession, taking out the stalking shit. He just couldn’t get enough of you and your discreet peeks at him, of how every time you would come to him in mass when the host had to be given and of how you always seemed to blush around him. It was instantaneous, the connection.

Maybe it was true that opposites attract. But he couldn’t focus on that at the moment, his whole being was focused on you.

It was late at night and mass had just finished, everyone was saying their goodbyes at the doors and outside, going to ride back to their homes.

By now, he knew that you always stayed inside for a little bit more, maybe to help the pastor, or pray just one last time before leaving, who knows? He would just wait for you, anyways, blunt on hand and eyes on the wood doors.

The smoke burned his throat as he dragged a new hit from it, and the cold night’s air was hitting his face and blowing his curly hair. The sky was full of stars, but the only sight he would die for was you.

You shivered as you stepped out of the church, waving a goodbye to the pastor with one of your sweets smiles, which disappeared rather quickly when the cold air hit your bare skin. Your uniform was really not made for winter-like nights, and the thin sweatshirt that you had brought with you even less. You groaned when you remembered that today neither of your parents could come pick you up and that you had to walk back home. Good thing was that you lived nearby so it wouldn’t take you long.

You smiled to a few of the families that said their goodbyes, your eyes strolling though the plaza ‘till they met the more wooded part of it and at the same time, a pair of brown ones that stared at you, glistening under the fire of the blunt in between those soft lips that touched your fingers every Sunday. Your cheeks went hot pretty quickly as you looked the other way, your steps not waiting to start moving towards the street, but you stopped halfway, something inside you tugging the other way around. You fisted your hands and squeezed your eyes shut as you stood there, indecisive but knowing damn well what you wanted. Eddie’s eyebrows rose, awaiting for your next move as he stared at your back and silk hair. Surprise filled his factions when you turned around in just a mere second, starting to walk towards him still with your eyes closed shut. As if that would help you…

Cute.

He had to bit down a smile, still looking away and leaning in the tree on his side side while getting a new drag as you closed the distance.

He stared at you when you had finally come to meet him, your eyes darting away from him just to go back in less than a few seconds. He fought the urge to smile once again when he saw you try and say something, struggling to find a way how to start.

He was so close… So close that you could smell the earthy smoke —not truly knowing what it was—that surrounded him and his stupidly addictive cologne. Okay, breathe. You can do this. You can do this.

“Hi.” you stuttered, looking up at him since he was a few inches taller than you.

He smirked as he hit the blunt one more time before temporarily turning it off since he wouldn’t want you to be around the smoke.

“Hi, sweetheart.” he calmly said, slowly blowing off the smoke away from you, saving the rest of his blunt in his pocket. His mind was the complete opposite of his appearance, it was a mess. Holy shit, you were so close. And, fuck, you were talking to him. For the first time ever. This was a fucking dream.

Your cheeks burned when you heard the little nickname, a shy smile pursing your lips. Your brain was probably burning now due to all the thinking you were doing, trying to think about something to say to him. Hell, this was hard. “I saw you on mass.” you muttered, wanting to really kick yourself due to the stupidness that you’ve said. That was something he already knew.

Eddie smiled, giving you a chuckle that made your heart skip a beat. God you were so beautiful… “I know, I saw you too, gorgeous.” And he was high. What only made his infatuation worse. “Are you not going home? No one coming to get you?” he inquired you.

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna walk the way back, my parents couldn’t come today.” you smiled to what he frowned.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he inquired back, chuckling a little bit. “Beautiful girls like you shouldn’t walk alone at night, doll.”

You froze when one of his hands reached to brush back your locks from your face, making your stomach turn.

“We wouldn’t want any bad guy hurting you, would we?” you shook your head in response, to what he hummed. “That’s right… So, why don’t you let me take you home, sweetheart?” he offered you, cautious to not come out as a creep or something like that. He really wanted you to get home safe though.

“Would that be okay?” you inquired, making him smile.

“Of course, gorgeous.” he frowned when he saw you shiver, quickly getting rid of his jacked to hand it to you. “Take this too, I’m sure you are freezing with that uniform on.” you blushed when his eyes scanned your bare legs, your soft hands bumping against his more tougher ones when you muttered a little ‘thanks’ and pushed the warm vest on your shoulders. You felt like drowning, not only because it was absolutely huge on you, but because it smelled like him. With that woody string that you couldn’t really put your finger on.

He mouthed a ‘fuck’ when he saw you on his jacket, your innocent eyes staring at him as you melted on the denim. You looked so beautiful that it made a boner start to grow on his pants. But he pushed the dirty thoughts that filled his mind to the back of it and pressed his palm on your lower back. “Let’s go, beautiful.” he smiled at you as you both walked towards his van, which’s door he opened for you before getting on the driver’s seat and starting the car. Music filled your ears when the radio got turned on, only a whisper to your ears as you were so focused on the way his veiny and big hands gripped the wheel and manhandled it to start driving away.

He made sure you had your seatbelt on, but really didn’t mind to even put his on before getting to the road.

“Where to, sweetheart?” he inquired you, turning down the music a little bit as his eyes quickly found yours, nodding when you gave him your direction.

You both were silent during the drive, not an awkward kind of it, though, more like a warm one. Your eyes wandered around the messy van, which was filled with metal tapes, some beer cans, cigarettes that had stumbled out of the ashtray and notebooks and book on the backseats, which were clearly from D&D.

“You play the guitar?” you inquired when you noticed one red pick hanging from his neck, something you hadn’t been able to see since it has been hidden under his jacket.

He smiled at your question, his body shaking slightly when you leaned over him and picked the pick in between your fingers. The design was really beautiful. “I do, actually, I’m even on a band.” your eyes widened.

“Really? What’s its name?”

“Corroded Coffin.” you nodded. “We play at the Hideout from time to time.”

“How cool, I’ve never met someone who played the electric guitar, on my school they’re forbidden. They only teach us how to play the piano.” you sighed.

“Well, If you liked I could play for you sometime.” you seemed exited at his offer.

“I would love that! I’m sure you’re amazing.” he felt himself slightly blushing, looking at you with a little grin before shrugging.

“I guess I’m good with my fingers.” he chuckled when you only smiled wider, pretty shiny eyes shining under the moonlight and completely oblivious of the lustful meaning of his words. What an innocent girl. “Okay, how about I play for you…, If you play for me too? What do you say, hm?” he said, pulling over in front of your house and stopping the car to turn to look at you. “Do we have a deal, gorgeous?” he inquired while offering you one of his hands on a shake.

You bit your bottom lip anxiously. “Okay.” you muttered, talking his hand in between yours, amazed by how his rough fingertips stayed warm even in the coldest of nights and just how long his fingers were compared to yours. A lightning went down though your whole body when his free hand reached your face, thumb pressing against your bottom lip as his eyes took in just how perfectly sinful they seemed. He dreamed of someday tasting them, breaking them with his teeth.

“I can’t wait.” he whispered, your doe eyes staring into his when he flashed you a smile and pulled away. “Now, get home safe, gorgeous. Don’t keep your parents waiting.” you nodded, following his orders and getting off of the van, not before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, a shy giggle falling off your lips.

“Thank you for taking me home. I’ll see you next Sunday!” you waved goodbye as you walked towards your door, cheeks flushed and a big smile.

He gave you a wave just as you closed the front door behind your back, his raised hand pressing against the tingling skin of his cheek, where your lips had rested.

She’ll be the death of me…

He thought as he stared his van once again.

And that was just the start of everything.

You and Eddie became close pretty quickly. Was he the best influence? Absolutely not, since he had found a way to take you to the last church’s bench just to keep you giggling and blushing all the way through mass.

He had even introduced you to his friends. They were really cool…, different. There was this little genius named Dustin, who along with his friends always played D&D Friday afternoons, Steve and Robin, who worked on the Film Store and were always discussing the best films of history, and Nancy, the sweetest yet fearless girl you had ever met. At first you felt like an intruder, but they seemed to like you as much as you liked them, since they started to invite you to your hangouts and always ask Eddie about you when they had the chance.

Your parents were surprised, if not astonished, at first when they met Eddie and your group. They were so used to those prude bible lover classmates of yours that it was a shock for them. But once they saw just how happy it all made you, they decided that they’d accept it only if you continued with your bible studies and went to church every Sunday, what you obviously weren’t planning on stop doing.

Something forbidden though, was having boys at home, even more in your room.

But the first time that Eddie knocked on your window a Friday night it all want to… well, Hell.

You were laying on your bed after having had a long bath and fully clothed on your flared night dress, reading a little bit of one of the books that Eddie had lended you: Lord of the Rings. He said that once you had finished the first one he would give you the second. You would lie if you said you understood something, if not anything. But you weren’t that far on the book yet, so maybe you just had to give it time. You were lost on the inked papers when suddenly someone knocked at your window, startling you. With widened eyes you turned just to see a smiling metal head waving at you and pointing at the window lock with a little smile. You quickly closed the book and walked towards it, unlocking it just to see the curly haired get in without making a sound.

“Eddie?” you clasped over your mouth when you found yourself speaking too loud, whispering when your lips parted once again. “What are you doing here!?”

“Just wanted to see you, gorgeous. Is that a sin?” he mocked you, wandering around your bedroom and taking every single detail in as you hurriedly closed and locked your door.

Eddie found himself mesmerized by your room, it was a complete opposite of his: clean, organized, pink…

You grasped away from his hands one of your teddy bears that he had took to inspect, his brown eyes back on you.

“You know you can’t be here! What if my parents found out?” he hushed you with a soft smile on his lips, hands on your shoulders.

“They won’t. I promise, alright? I parked the van one block down your neighborhood, they won’t even suspect. Never saw me climb in too, so we’re safe.” you seemed relieved, falling on your bed and him following, sitting on his book and pulling it off under him just to smile and look at you. “You’re reading it!” you looked at him.

“Well yeah, at least I’m trying. Everything is so confusing…” he let out a little chuckle.

“You know that if you need my help you just want to ask me, sweetheart. I can explain to you the lore in less than thirty minutes from all the times that I’ve read the saga.”

You giggled when he bumped the book on your head, making him let out a soft laughter too before he would make you blush —like always— by complimenting just how beautiful you looked that night.

Even though you always feared him getting caught by one of your parents every single time he sneaked in and, getting you grounded, with every new secret visit, that fear slowly disappeared.

Eddie made you feel good, and safe. He always talked to you about his day, giving you as much details as he could just so you could feel how being a Hawkins High student felt like. Of course, he took out Jason’s bullying and how everyone thought of him as a freak in fear you’d end up thinking about him the same way they thought about him, which was stupid, since you adored Eddie.

He was always the sweetest, always taking care of you, making sure you were warm every night after church, comfortable on his van’s seat… Making sure you had something to eat, trying his best to make you feel like the most important thing in the whole world… It made your heart beat pretty quickly when he would take your hand when you walked down the streets, making you go on the inside part and telling you to be careful with the rain poodles in case you’d go and slip.

He always let you hide on his chest when you watched scary movies with him on his trailer, and gave you his shirt and sweats —which were too big for you— to sleep if you ever decided to spend the night. He even lent you his bed and slept on the couch. He was a gentleman.

Or that’s what he wanted you to think. ‘Cause he really was no saint. He had to fought a boner every time you’d sleep over, or fall asleep on his chest after a long movie night, or ignore the way your tongue swirled around an ice cream, or how your tits bounced while running for him and pressed against his chest, or fight the urge to touch when while reading your little cotton panties would show under your night gown, or when your skirt would rile up a little bit too much exposing your perfect thighs… Fuck. He had had to go to the bathroom multiple times to masturbate and get it over with or else he would feel like going crazy.

He wanted you, really wanted you. Wanted to make you choke on his dick, to touch you over your panties in the last church’s bench while the mass went on, make you grind on him in the confessional, he wanted to hear you moan in his ear as he pounded in you in Steve’s bathroom while the others watched a movie downstairs, he wanted to mark your neck just so you would struggle to hide them from your catholic little teacher and friends. God, he was the devil, and you were that pretty little angel that he so wanted to corrupt all for himself.

He had dreamed about you, crying while being too cock drunk, begging for him to fuck you harder. He would wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air and with cum in his underwear when he once dreamed about you calling him your god.

He felt sick. He was sick. Sick for wanting to hurt you, to cuff you to his bed as he ate you out over and over again ‘till you couldn’t cum anymore, for taking a knife and cutting his initials on your flesh only to lick clean the wound and then let you taste it on his lips, he wanted to fill you up with his cum and watch it drip out of your tight little cunt just to get hard again and fuck you one more time. He wanted to spank you so you wouldn’t be able to sit on your chair next morning, he wanted to choke you and hear your whimpers as he fucked you stupid.

He had even stolen your used panties from the dirty laundry once that he had sneaked on your bathroom under the excuse to pee, just to fuck his fist —once he was back in his trailer— with them and lick the crotch as he pleasured himself while fantasizing about it being your pussy instead. He had even risked waking you up while masturbating next to you in your slumber, for fucks sakes!

He wanted to hear you scream his name so bad… Hear you beg for him to do anything he wanted to you, to fill you up, to break you, to…

“Eddie?” you sweet voice filled his ears, pulling him away from his train of thought. You two were alone for the night in your house, your parents having gone away on a trip due to work and leaving you all alone, to what you’ve asked Eddie if he could stay with you since you were scared. After a couple of minutes, he was knocking on your door with all types of movies and snacks. And there you were, in your room, under the dim light of your lamp and the television, which played ‘The Exorcist’.

It was not the first night the two of you had spent alone in your room, he had slept over each time your parents were away just to keep you company and hugged you ‘till you had fallen asleep. But something was wrong that night. Well, you had been feeling kind of strange for a while now.

It all started a couple of weeks ago where one of your friends had come to school with flushed cheeks and a scarf around her neck, which was strange since it was not that cold yet. It was not ‘till recess when she had told you all about it and taken of her scarf to show her little secret. She was full of hickeys, something you’ve learned not too long ago. You didn’t understand what had happened ‘till she whispered about the weekend he had spend with his boyfriend on her house, while his parents were away for vacation. She had given all of you clear details about how she had gotten those and how his boyfriend had —and you quoted— wrecked the shit out of her. Even though you were quite lost, you knew that whatever she had done was a sin, since they were out of marriage. But when you told her so she just went and told you ‘As if you didn’t have a boy that you’d like to fuck too.’ Your eyes had widened at her words, cheeks flushing and confusion settling on your head when suddenly Eddie’s face came to your mind.

That day, you spent the whole school time thinking about it, fire on your stomach when suddenly you’d imagined yourself with your neck full of bruises just like your friends but this time being Eddie the one that had sucked them on you. Was then when you started feeling strange, your whole body flushing and a really uncomfortable tingle in your lower parts that had you awkwardly brushing against your chair from time to time, what only made it worse.

You thought it had gone away, but then you had met Eddie the next day in church and that feeling had come back to haunt you, worsening with the little strokes that his fingertips gave to the thigh where his hand rested. You had tried and praying it away, too embarrassed to even think about what that exactly meant and trying to erase your friend’s words out of your head.

Although everything went down hill when you woke up one night startled and with slick in your panties due to a very indecent dream you had had. You didn’t understood why, but you had taken the teddy bear that Eddie was always messing with and pushed it in between your thighs in hopes that it would stop that tingly feeling that so crazy was driving you, only to find yourself pushing against it when you felt good… Really good even. Even more when you went ahead and went though your dream one more time. It was Eddie, slowly kissing your neck, skin glistening due to his tongue and little open mouthed kissed and bites that he had given you, and not really knowing how, that same mouth had ended up finding its way in between your thighs and buried himself there. But you got scared as your stomach tightened and pushed it away, gasping for air with tears in your eyes as you grasped tightly your rosary in between your fingers and prayed and prayed over and over again. Although the pain never left.

You couldn’t even look at Eddie’s face due to the embarrassment that night after church, and prayed the whole day after that, scared that some demon had come to hurt you on your sleep.

What would Eddie think of you? What would God think about you?

You had tried everything. Everything to push it away, to forget about it.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he was drawing little circles on your bare thighs, your head against his shoulder and chest, your arms around his waist.

Yet there was it, that stupid feeling once again, making you all flushed and wet down there due to just a pair of simple touches from your best friend.

“Can you… Can you please stop touching me?” you inquired him with a soft and hurt voice, trying really hard not to brush yourself against your bed sheets for that relief you had felt once with your plush. No. It’s wrong. It’s wrong…

He seemed surprised at first at your words, but quickly pulled his hand away from your skin, worry on his voice. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, was I making you feel uncomfortable?”

Surprisingly enough, you whined when you felt the urge to ask him to touch you again, feeling so overwhelmed and frustrated and scared that tears started to form on your eyes. Eddie’s widened when he heard your little gasps and hiccups, being quick to stop the movie and turn to you, his eyes finding your teary ones.

“Hey…” his voice was filled with sadness as his hands cupped your rosy cheeks, his eyebrows turned and face worried. “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” his thumbs swayed the tears away as you cried, shattering his heart.

“I— I don’t feel good.” you muttered, making him worry even more.

“Why? Are you feeling sick? Does it hurt somewhere?” you nodded, crying even harder, your hands fisting his shirt. “Where? Where does it hurt?” he inquired you but you simply shook your head.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you.” and you truly couldn’t, what would Eddie think of you? He would hate you! He would leave you alone and then you two wouldn’t be friends anymore.

He looked so concerned he seemed pale. “Tell me where it hurts, baby, please?” he inquired and you only buried your face on his neck. “Please baby, please?”

You hid even more before you could mumble something his ears didn’t catch, your breath on his skin making him slightly shiver.

New tears damped his tee as you cried on his neck, him not truly understanding, taking your face in between his hands once more and away from his neck to try and understand as he tried to push away that lingering pleasure of seeing your tears.

“I don’t understand, sweetheart. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just… I just can’t make it stop!” you frustratedly whimpered, your thighs pushing together.

“What is it, gorgeous? You know you can always tell me anything, I’m here for you, okay? I’m here for you.” he promised, giving you a slight kiss on your forehead.

“It hurts very bad, Eddie.” and when he softly asked you again where you muttered a “Down… Down there.” your pretty voice came out as a whisper, but he was still able to hear it, his eyes drifting to your legs, which pressed tightly against the other.

“Down there, baby?” you nodded.

“It feels hot and hurts when you touch me and I can’t make it stop. I’m sorry, I’m veryveryvery sorry Eddie, please don’t be mad, please?” you begged him, his heart skipping a beat when you confirmed his guessing.

You were… You were, fuck.

“I’m not mad, doll.” he gave you a sweet smile as he pushed the last few tears away from your cheeks.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” he nodded, gulping hard when you squirmed under his touch once one of his hands had found his way to your thighs. “But I need to you show me where it hurts, okay sweetheart? I don’t really know what you mean.” he said, rubbing circles on your warm skin.

Oh, he knew what you meant. He perfectly knew. But it was too good to be true. You? Hot and bothered because of him? God was really playing with him right now, right? This couldn’t be…

“Can you do that for me, hm?” you nodded when his soft voice reached you, your own shaky little hand taking his just to push your thighs apart and slowly start to drag it inwards, a sigh scaping your lips.

This was one of those goddamn dreams, it had to be. It had to… Jesus H Crisht.

“There.” you stuttered when his palm was fully cupping your clothed cunt, the warmth and wetness in your panties making him moan.

“Is there where it hurts, baby?” you nodded, your eyes closing as your teeth captured your bottom lip. “Since when does it hurt, hm?” he inquired, trying really hard to stay still and not push those goddamn beautiful panties away to push his fingers roughly inside you and make you scream.

“Since a couple of days.” ‘Since the dream’. You wanted to add.

“My poor baby, all frustrated and bothered. You must have really had a bad time…” you nodded, almost crying once again, when his other hand cupped your wet and warm cheek, his lips on your ear as he whispered. “I know what’s wrong with you.”

“You know?” you inquired, your voice holding a little bit of hope in all that list that you really couldn’t understand.

“Mmh, mmh.” he muttered, thumb pressing against your bottom lip, eyes on it as his tongue dampened his own. “It happens to me too… All the time. But only when I’m with you.” you gasped at his words, quivering when his minty breath hit your face. “I know how to make it feel better. Do you want me to make it feel better, gorgeous?” you quickly nodded, your hips bucking towards his hand when his fingertips slowly and softly made its way down your slit, still not pressing into your wet folds.

“Yes please, Eddie. Please.” you begged, making him grin at your broken pleads, even more when your head fell backwards and you moaned when his touch became rougher, his body moving ‘till he now rested behind you, your back against his chest.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked, his fingers touching your clit over your pink panties. You nodded. “Words, gorgeous. Use your words.” his index pressed harder and you whined, your fingers fisting the floral sheets under you.

“Yes. Yes. Feels… Feels good, Eddie.” you found a way to babble out, too out of it.

“Look at you, I’m only touching you over your panties and you are already like this.” he chuckled. “Such a good dirty girl.” you whimpered at his words, hips pushing against his touch, shaking when his lips found your neck. “Why don’t you be good for me and get rid of your panties, mh?”

You were quick to push them down your thighs, your slick forming a thick string in between the cotton and your cunt that made Eddie groan, dick fully hard underneath his jeans.

“Good girl.” he praised you, his hand going back in between your thighs, taking your breath away. “Does that feel better now?” you nodded, incredibly overwhelmed by the difference that it was having him touching you under you clothes then above. Hell, if you had been close to cumming with just your teddy bear, you were now seconds away from bursting. “I bet it does. So pretty.” his middle finger pressed against your entrance, circling it and making you moan his name.

“Eddie.” he groaned when it fell from your lips, your nails digging on his thighs as you pulsed against his fingertips. “More.” you didn’t truly know what you were asking for, but the words came on it’s own as you whimpered, pushing against his finger.

“Does my pretty girl want more?” you answered with a plead ‘yes, please’. “Then open up for me a little bit more, baby.” he said against your neck, sucking slightly on your skin and making you moan as your thighs parted to their limits. “That’s it.” you cried out when his finger slowly pushed against the ring of muscles, sinking in when it gave out.

“Eddie…” you whimpered, the strange feeling of his finger inside of, you slowly pulling backwards just to push back in once again, making your head spin, the wet sounds of your pussy receiving his digits making him lose his mind.

“Fuck.” he groaned, his hard dick pushing against your lower back. He was so hard he swore he could cum just with your whimpers and moans. “That’s it baby, you’re being so good…” your nails dug harder on his thighs when he tried his luck by pushing another finger in, this one stinging but not for long since his thumb pressed against your clit and his two fingers curved to hit your g spot.

You then became a mumbling mess, begging for that feeling again, for more from him and crying and moaning his name over and over again.

You were feeling once again that strange and overwhelming pressure in your lower stomach. And he knew, since your walls were tightening around his fingers, that you were close. Close to the best feeling that you had yet to know.

“Eddie, I…”

“You close, gorgeous? Gonna cum all over my fingers?” he muttered against the skin of your neck. “Gonna scream my name as you cum, hm?”

You didn’t know what it was, but you were so close, so close.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me have it.” and with a last breath you broke down in cries and high pitched moans, his name falling off your lips as the best thing you had ever experienced hit you. It was warm, and so intense that it made you lose focus of your surroundings, making you go blind as Eddie groaned in your neck, biting down on your soft skin. “Atta girl.” you whimpered as his fingers helped you ride out your orgasm, your thighs twitching and tears in your eyes as your walls fluttered around his rough and thick fingers. “Fuck baby, that was so hot.”

You gasped for air as you came down, your head against his shoulder and entrance twitching when his cum covered fingers left you and found its way to his mouth, licking them clean and tasting you with a hum.

You whined at the sight, making him smirk. “What is it, want a taste sweetheart?” you nodded, half-lided eyes shining with pleasure. “Then open your mouth for me.” you did so as he turned your face with one of his hands just to lean on you, his tongue sloppy but hungry in your mouth and his free hand groped one of your breasts, making you moan.

It was your first kiss, and even if you had imagined it a thousand times how it would be before, it was definitely not like that. It was messy, and hot, and really difficult to follow. That’s why you found yourself pulling him back in from his neck, wanting more of his lips on yours and your taste in his mouth. But he just wouldn’t give it to you, chuckling mere inches from your face making you whine.

“Nuh-uh, that’s not how we ask for things, beautiful.”

“Please, Eddie…” you whispered against his lips, his thumb pulling on your bottom lip ‘till your mouth was open for him once again.

“Stick your tongue out.” he ordered, and you followed, moaning when he leaned in once again, his tongue bruising your own and making your eyes roll when his free hand snuck back to your thighs, this time ascending to your tummy, all the way up ‘till his fingertips bumped against your under boobs. “Fuck, you are not wearing a bra, baby?” you shook your head, his dick twitching against your back, but later against your thighs once he had pushed you on your back and quickly topped you. “Such a tease…” he mumbled against the skin on your neck, giving you a harsh bite that made you cry and pushed him flush against you, his hands taking a hold on your pretty tits under your shirt, your nipples hard and begging to be touched.

“Eddie, please… Kiss me, please.” you pleaded for him to go back to your lips, to your tongue, intoxicated by his touch, his words and his hard dick pressing against your skin. You so wanted to be touched again, to be relieved from that pain that once again grew in between your thighs.

“So pretty begging for me, do you want it that bad?” you nodded, squirming under his touch and letting out a hurt whimper when he pinched and pulled your nipples, leaving that tingle and warmth spread on your skin. “Cant hear you baby.”

“I want it, please, please, please…” your hips pushed against his when he found his way in between your legs, wet pussy against the rough denim of his crotch. “Please, Eddie, it hurts.” new tears came to your eyes, moaning over and over again when he started to dry hump against you, rubbing your sensitive clit and making you see stars.

“Such a greedy little bitch.” you cried out at his words, all that sweet talk leaving him when his palm hardly fell on the flesh of your thigh, making your body jolt. “Gave you my fingers and yet you don’t find it enough?” the next slap made you push harder against his cock, making him groan in your chest as he snapped the buttons of your shirt just to let his tongue freely lap at your tits, biting and sucking hardly on your skin, leaving beautiful marks behind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you cried, one of your hands instantly going to take a hold on the little cross that dangled from your neck, something you did as you prayed and in times where you felt like giving into sin.

“You gonna pray, whore? Gonna pray to god while I fuck you?” he inquired, his grip on your wrists as he pushed your hands away from your necklace and over your head. You moaned when the denim brushed over your cunt once again, it dampening due to how wet you were. “He’s not the one making you feel better, sweetheart. You should be praying to me. It’s me who you should be begging and for which you’d go down on your knees, don’t you think, hm?” you nodded even though the grip on your wrists pained you and his teeth harshly dug on the skin of your neck, ‘cause it felt so good, better than anything you’ve experienced before. “What a dirty slut, giving in to me just so I make you cum, isn’t that right? Say it. Say you want me to make you cum all over my cock.” your body grew on goosebumps to his orders, you babbling and trying to make sense of the words who left your lips, receiving a harsh slap when you could find a way to pull them in order. “Come on, sweetheart, I know you want it. You want me to make you feel good again, right? You want to make me feel good?” you quickly nodded, eyes closed as he dry humped against your aching cunt. You no longer wanted his fingers, you were in need of something bigger, something that would fill you up to the brim and make you choke out on it. “Then say it, baby. I know you can.”

Your lips parted in a cry when one of his hands left your wrists just to find its way to your clit, thighs shaking as you felt the pressure start to build again in your stomach, lifting you higher and higher.

“Please, Eddie. Make me…” you whimpered when his circling didn’t stop. “I want to cum on your cock.” you managed to say, not really caring anymore about the eyes that watched you up from the sky. If God loved you…, then why would he make this a sin? Why could something that felt so good be bad? Maybe Eddie was right, maybe it was him your truly God.

You found yourself tugging against his hand and trying to push him back to your core when he pulled away, leaving you with an orgasm that never came and shaking on your place, begging in between little whispers and mutters.

“Fuck. Look at you. All messed up and I haven’t even begun to fuck you. You are gonna do good for me, isn’t that right baby? You are gonna take it, gonna take my cock and cum on it over and over again, and fucking take it.” when he finally freed your wrists, your hands quickly searched up for him, his own unbuckling his belt as you nodded, pushing his jeans and boxers —wet with precum — down his thighs, freeing his aching and swollen dick, which bumped against his happy trail. You eyes widened at the sight. So that was what had been poking you that whole time. It was strangely beautiful. Mushroom tip wet and red, great length and girth with a couple of veins on its side… It had a little curve too. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me, gorgeous?” you nodded, eyes never leaving his cock when his hand gripped and started moving around it, soft groans that made your pussy clench leaving his lips. “Then why don’t you open up yourself for me, hm? Let me see that pretty pussy of yours.” you moaned at his hungry gaze, tongue sliding through his bottom lip as your hands snaked down your chest and stomach to your thighs and later on, your folds, your fingers digging on your wetness just to open them up, giving him a full view of your twitching hole and clit. “Fuck. Atta girl. You’re so good baby, so good for me.” you whimpered, hips pushing against his own when he was once again in between your thighs, tip sliding though your folds and bumping your clit, making you moan and your head fall back.

Your hands quickly found the bottom of his shirt, and later, his bare back, your eyes wandering on the ink that decorated his skin. You’d seen it before, of course, since he mostly wandered around shirtless in his van, but it never failed to amaze you. It was just so beautiful… He moaned when your nails dig on his shoulder blades, his dick twitching against your entrance and slightly pushing against it and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Eddie, I need you, please God, I need you…” you babbled out, pushing against him and pulling him closer, the grip on your hip tightened as he smirked.

“Who are you begging to baby? Me or God?” his mouth hovered over your neck, his tongue flattening in a long wet strip from your collarbones to your ear, whispering there and making your skin prickle. “Or maybe I’m both?” you moaned and he just smiled wider. “Yeah?” his eyebrows rose as you nodded, bottom lip in between your teeth and breath hitching when his tip pushed inwards once again, teasing you. “Am I your God, sweetheart?” you nodded again, moaning when he softly bit your jaw. “Then pray to me.” he mumbled, his tip finally pushing and gaining a lustful and painful whine from your lips. “Worship me.” he groaned as he slowly thrusted in your wetness, cursing under his breath since you were so tight he felt like exploding.

Sure, it hurt. It was your first time. You hadn’t even ever touched yourself before that night, Eddie’s fingers doing the honors to let you know that that kind of pleasure was possible in a human being. And that it was okay. Your bedroom floor hadn’t cracked open to let you fall to Hell, like you’d feared, instead, rising you to Heaven, higher and higher above the clouds and nearer the sun.

He was so big that you felt like dying, so heavy and warm inside you that had you all messed up and crying under him due to the desire and pleasure that surrendered you to his touch. Your tears bringing him to groan as he bottomed out, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t yet believe that he was inside you, fucking you, making you cry and beg for him. “Fuck.” he cursed, trying to focus on not cumming on the spot, trying to ignore the way your walls surrounded him and your body twitched, nails digging in his back as you rocked against him. “So good, baby. You’re such a good girl.” you whimpered, his hands wondering around your body and giving you soft squeezes as encouragement. He was waiting for you, waiting for the pain to dissipate and you to get used to him being deep inside you. When your rocking became more noticeable, he smiled at your pretty moans.

“Eddie…” you called out for him, gasping for air when he pulled out ‘till only the tip remained inside and thrusted back in, hitting something inside you that made you see stars and cry out.

“That’s it.” he cooed, pounding on you once again, hair caressing your chest and his lips brushing against yours. “Such a pretty girl taking my cock.” you whimpered, his tongue pushing inside your mouth and kissing you dirtily as his groans made you gasp. It was too much. Too much. “Take it, doll. Take my cock. Just like that, fuck. Good girl.” you moaned his name as his hips started to take up on speed. “You like that? Like my cock? This sweet pussy of yours seems to love it.” he smirked as a new thrust let you hear the dirt sounds of your juices against his dick. “So greedy, sucking me in so good. Such a slut.” you screamed when his hand fell harshly against the side of your thigh.

The only thing you could do was moan his name over and over again, the constant hitting to that sweet spot inside you driving you crazy and nearing you to that now known feeling of relief.

“Look at you, so cock drunk you can’t even talk.” he laughed, thrusting harder, deeper, faster… “You’re drooling all over yourself, baby.” you gagged when two of his fingers went into your mouth, drool dampening them and spilling over your chin. “What a pretty girl. So pretty letting me fuck her just how I want.” he moaned when your walls tightened around him. “Taking me so good. Such a good little toy.” you cried, his fingers making your pleading all muffled and broken. “You liked that, baby? Like me to treat you badly?” another slap on your thigh had you nodding like crazy, his name falling off of tour lips when his fingers left your mouth only to wrap around your throat, making the oxygen hardly full your lungs and blood flow to your brain.“I’m sure you’d let me cum in you, isn’t that right. I can bet you even want it. Want my cum filling you up so good you’d beg me for it every goddamn day, isn’t that right, gorgeous?” you nodded, begging for it and making him grunt on your mouth, his tongue pushing against your lips. You choked at the feeling of his fingers digging on your neck, his name falling off your lips like a church song.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…” new tears streamed down your face when his fingers found your clit. And by the way you were tightening around him he new you were close.

“Gonna cum baby? Gonna cum on my cock?” you nodded, moans closer to each other. “What a good girl. Cum for me baby, let me hear you.” you didn’t even wait to do so, cumming so hard you swore the world was falling to pieces around you, your sweet choked out whimpers making him lose control, fucking you harshly and mercilessly, your hands leaving his shoulders to press against his stomach, scratching him when he wouldn’t even let you rest from your high, which never seemed to finish.

“Too much, it’s… It’s too much, Eddie, please…” you begged, choked by his hand, feeling the constant pounding build something different inside you. “Stop! Stop… Something’s… Something’s gonna come out!” you begged, but he didn’t seemed to listen, too out of it due to just how pretty you looked crying and getting the shit fucked out of you by his cock.

He moaned at your arching back and high pitched scream, juices gushing out of your pussy and dampening his cock, thighs and your sheets. His eyes widened when he seemed to understand what had just happened.

“Did you just… Fuck baby. Did you just squirted?” you were a crying mess under him, too overwhelmed to even answer or really understand what had just happened. “Fuck, that was so hot. I’m gonna fucking cum.” he moaned as his thrusts became sloppier and his groans louder, fucking you faster but not as deep as he sought his own release while his name fell off your lips over and over again. “y/n, ah fuck, so good, I’m gonna cum so hard… Gonna fill you up so good, so full…” he moaned when after one, two, three more deep thrusts he spilled in you, painting your walls in white and making you moan at the feeling, your name falling off his lips on whimpers when his arms gave out and fell on top of you.

The two were a goddamn mess, all sticky and sweaty, you whimpered when he kissed you once again, this kiss being sloppier and more lazy, sweet. A little gasp left your lips when his fingers tightened around your necklace and pulled, stealing it from your neck. “You won’t be needing this anymore.” he smirked, instead taking his own off his neck, the one with his red pick dangling, and pulling it over your head. “Since from now on you’d be on your knees for me, hm?” you nodded, sighing when his lips where back to yours, hissing a little bit when he pulled out of you, cum dripping down your thighs onto the wet sheets as he put on your own necklace, the cross shining under your lamp’s light. “You’re mine now, sweetheart.”

thanks to everyone who comments, likes and reblogs, it really helps this blog to reach more and more people!!! hope y’all liked this post! &lt;3

also, thanks for the 400 followers! y’all are the best!!!!

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Never Say Never

Chapter 10

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 9.3K

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“Wow,” Robin breathed, her eyes so wide Steve feared they would pop out of her head, her spoon of cereal paused in front of the perfect circle her mouth was currently making. “That good, huh?”

“Better than good. I don’t…shit, I don’t even know how to describe it,” Steve replied, arms dropping to the table. “I’ve…Robin, I have never felt anything like that before. It was incredible and so damn intense. I don’t…I don’t know if I can have any self-control now that I know what kissing her feels like and I have to have self-control with her. That kiss is all I’ve been able to think about. It’s all I want to do. I had to stop myself from driving to her work today just to see her and touch her again. I think I might be losing my mind.”

Everything about last night had been perfect. From the food to the conversation to the girl. He knew he liked you. He knew he liked you a lot. He’d known he wanted to kiss you from the moment he’d laid eyes on you but nothing could have prepared him for what it was actually like. The moment his lips touched yours it was like sticking his finger in an electrical socket. You consumed him. It felt like you were everywhere at once, completely overwhelming every one of his senses until you were all that existed. 

Steve was not new to kissing. In fact his track record was probably far higher than most but he’d never had a kiss like that. That kiss made all other kisses seem pointless. Why would he ever waste his lips on anything that wasn’t as amazing as that? And now all he could think about was your lips and your skin and how much more he wanted to explore. He was completely done for and that was scary as hell.

Robin giggled, her spoon clinking as she dropped it into the bowl, “Oh, my sweet summer child, you have got it so bad.”

“I know! What do I do?” he pleaded desperately.

The blond shrugged, her foot coming up to rest on the seat of the chair, arm wrapping around her leg, “Why would you want to do anything? Go with it. Savor it. Enjoy the hell out of it. Kiss that woman silly.”

“Robs, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not saying it’s funny. Steve, it’s amazing. I’ve never seen you so over the moon. I mean, yeah, you fall hard and fast but it’s all just a show. I’ve never seen you this lovestruck, my friend. You give new meaning to the term stars in his eyes.”

“But I told her it was no pressure. I said it wouldn’t be a big deal if it didn’t work out and now it feels like a very big deal! How am I supposed to go back to the way things were now that I know how goddamn good she feels?”

Blue eyes widened as she leaned forward, “Whoa. How good she feels? I thought all you did was kiss.”

“That is all we did!” he huffed. “But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about how so many other things would feel with her. But that’s a huge step, right? I mean, if I sleep with her then there is definitely no going back. It would be too awkward. And then what about the boys? I will shatter Jere’s heart when I tell him Eli’s mom and I can’t be around each other anymore. And what about…”

“Whoa! Hold your horses there cowboy. You’re getting just a bit ahead of yourself, don’t you think? Why are you already planning on all of this going south? Obviously, you two had an amazing time together and a kiss that could launch a thousand ships or some shit. Why would you think this isn’t going to be something?”

“Because it’s me!”

“And?”

“And I can’t ever make anything work. I am King Steve alright, the king of failed relationships.”

“Or…and hear me out, you’ve only had failed relationships because you’ve picked the wrong girls. She doesn’t sound like the wrong girl. I mean, honestly, did you ever have a kiss with Nance that made you feel like that?”

“No, but you know me. I’m going to push too hard, too fast, and she’s going to get freaked out and run. Look at me. Already I want to race over and see her even though I am seeing her tomorrow. Hell, I wanted to turn around and drive back to kiss her senseless all over again the moment I pulled away. I’m going to do it, Robin. I’m going to be too much. I can already feel it.”

“Okay,” shrugged Robin. Inhaling, she dropped her leg to the floor, arms crossing on top of the table. “Say you do what you do and you’re really needy and smothering and make it so she feels like she can’t breathe. Steve, we’re talking about a girl who lost her husband, a girl who has been alone for two years, a girl who hasn’t had anyone to care for her. Do you think she’ll find it smothering or do you think she’ll find it refreshing? Maybe she doesn’t even like breathing. Maybe what she wants is a Steve sized pillow right over her mouth and…” She cringed, lips puckering. “Okay, eww. I am realizing how that sounds but you know what I mean. Hell, maybe she does want that too.”

“But what if…”

“What if? What if? What if the Earth implodes tomorrow or aliens finally make themselves known and attack us all? Steve, you could go through the what ifs all damn day if you want but we both know all you’re really doing is grasping at shit because you’re scared.”

“Scared?” he scoffed, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I’m not scared. I just don’t want to make an ass of myself.”

“No. You’re scared. Terrified with a capital ‘T’ because King Steve has had a ton of relationships, more than is actually acceptable for the common person if we’re being honest. But what you’ve never had is anything real and that scares the shit out of you. Because if it’s real then that means there’s very real potential for losing it. But you have to stop focusing on what could happen and start focusing on what is happening right now. Because from what I’m hearing, she is just as deep into this as you are. It doesn’t sound like she was trying to stop the kiss which tells me she wants it. So just go with it. Go with the moment, with what you feel because yeah, it could all go to shit in a month. But it could also be your happy ending, Steve and you have to stop thinking you don’t deserve it or that it’s not possible for you because you, my friend, are worthy of all that shit they write about in romance novels.”

He was scared. He was scared shitless because there were a million and one ways he could manage to royally fuck this whole thing up. He was the king of fuck-ups when it came to relationships. And you were the first one that felt like it was something, something more than just a companion, something more than just someone he wanted around so he didn’t have to be alone. 

“Hey Steve!” came Dustin’s voice, the front door banging against the wall, making Steve swear because how many times had he told that kid not to do that? He’d already patched that spot twice because of him. “You got anything for breakfast? I’m all out of Cinnamon Toa…” He paused in the doorway when he took in the sight of Steve and Robin at the table. “Sorry. This looks serious.” His face lit up, finger pointing at Robin’s bowl. “Sweet. Exactly what I needed.” Pulling the bowl over, he dropped down between the two of them.

“By all means,” Robin snapped. “I wasn’t eating that or anything.”

“Don’t you have your own house with your own food?” Steve sighed. 

“Well, yes I do,” replied Dustin, scooping milk and cereal into his mouth, “but I am all out of cereal.”

“You know, there’s this place that all your breakfast needs. It’s called the grocery store.”

“Yeah, but you’re only a block away. Why would I drive all the way to the store when I can just come over here where there’s always food?”

“Because it’s my food,” argued Steve, jabbing his pointer finger repeatedly into the table. “It’s my food that I buy for me and my son to eat and it’s my house and it’s my table and it’s my bowl and spoon.”

“Damn. Someone’s grouchy today.” Dustin rolled his eyes toward Robin. “What’s up his butt?”

“Hot widow.”

“Impressive. That’s quite a leap from barely being able to tell her you like her.”

“Come on, man.” Steve wadded up a napkin, throwing it at his face. “I told you not to talk about my sex life.”

“So there is a sex life to talk about?”

Robin sniggered, “Based on how last night went there will be shortly.”

“Ohh!” Full teeth on display, he wiggled his eyebrows at Steve. “Do tell. More than dinner was enjoyed last night? Maybe a little late night dessert? A little something sweet after the meal? A little…”

“No. Absolutely not. I am not talking about this with a child,” Steve snorted, arms flailing in the air as he rose from the table. Grabbing onto the bowl that had been Robin’s before Dustin had stolen it, he walked it over to the sink, rinsing the remains of cereal and milk into the garbage disposal.

“Dude, I was still eating that! And I am not a child,” protested Dustin. “I am twenty-six! I have not been a child for eight years.”

Robin ruffled his hair. “You’ll always be itty bitty Dusty-Bun to us.”

“Knock it off. Jesus, seriously, you two have got to realize I am a man now. I am not unknown to the ways of carnal enjoyments. You’re not going to tell me anything I don’t already know. Seriously, did you and her hook up?”

“No! We just kissed, okay?” 

Steve spun, leaning against the sink, fingers wrapping around the edge. He glanced over at the clock. Normally he would be leaving now to pick up Jeremiah from school to start his few days with him but Nancy would be getting him today. She was keeping him for the night because it was her dad’s birthday and they were all going out to dinner. 

He had a whole evening ahead of him with nothing to occupy his thoughts and that was dangerous. Because his thoughts could lead him right to your doorstep. He hadn’t been exaggerating. Twice he’d had to convince himself that it would be ridiculous for him to show up when you had plans to see each other Thursday. Twice he’d been ready to turn his car right instead of left simply because he wanted to see your face. But his fear of doing what he always did, getting clingy, stopped him. 

Steve had always been clingy in relationships. He had this neurotic need to feel important, to feel needed, to feel wanted. Robin told him his lack of parental love as a child left him constantly seeking it out in others. It was annoying how well she could read him but it didn’t make her wrong. And this time was so much worse. The intensity of his feelings was magnified by a hundred and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to be the pillow that smothered this relationship before it even began. 

“It didn’t sound like just any old kiss to me,” Robin mused, opening the refrigerator to pull out a can of Dr. Pepper, something he only kept in the house because she drank it and she was always there. “It sounded like the kind of kiss that leads to all of the other dirty, delicious things.” Lifting her eyebrows, she nodded toward Dustin. “They were pawing at each other like a couple of horny teenagers in that car.”

“Steve! How very…junior year Steve of you. Which, I mean, that Steve was a douche but in this case, I approve,” Dustin laughed, only annoying him further. “And she was into it? I mean, obviously. Aren’t you two seeing each other tomorrow?”

“They are. They’re baking together for the school carnival.”

“Baking? Seriously?” He cringed at Steve. “How is that even slightly sexy?”

“Are you kidding me? The kids will be at school. They will have the whole house to themselves.” Pushing off the fridge, Robin’s hands wove in front of her as if she were setting a scene for a play. “Picture it. They’re mixing up ingredients and oops, some just happens to get on her neck. What to do? The only obvious conclusion is for Steve to lick it off.”

“Oh! Yeah and once you get tongues involved…” A husky laugh rose up out of Dustin, causing Steve a lot of unease. He did not appreciate this side of Dustin, the kid he used to give advice to for how to talk to girls. Dustin and tongues did not mix and was not an image he wanted in his brain. “That’s hot.”

“It’s not hot,” he stated, turning back to the dishes in the sink. “It’s not. We are two parents who volunteered to help bake for the carnival and…”

“Yeah. One of them who can’t bake and only chose that option to spend more time with the girl of his dreams,” Robin reminded.

“Yeah. I did,” he admitted, squeezing far more dish soap onto the sponge than was necessary in his irritation. “But I didn’t do it to get lucky or whatever. I did it just so we can spend time together. We’ve been on one date. She’s a widow. I mean, Jesus. We’re just getting to know each other. Nothing like that is happening for a long time.”

“Sure. If you say so,” Dustin snorted and Steve had had more than enough. He grabbed the sprayer from the sink, pulling it as far as it would go, shooting water right at his face. The boy’s hands flew up as he yelled, wiping the droplets off his skin. “Damn! That was unnecessary, Steve!”

“It was very necessary. Stop talking about my sex life. One, it gives me the ick to hear you talking about sex at all. You shouldn’t know anything about it. As far as I am concerned, you’ve never done it and I don’t want to know otherwise. And two, it’s not happening.” At Robin and Dustin’s disbelieving look, he sighed. “It’s not. Nothing is happening tomorrow. Seriously.”

____________________________________________________________

You moved throughout the house, laundry basket tucked under your arm, as you did your nightly pick-up of Eli’s various toys and clothes that had managed to be strewn everywhere. A random sock that had been deposited while he was eating his after school snack, the Hot Wheels car that had raced on an epic journey down the steps and then been abandoned at the base of them, the stuffed giraffe forgotten on the couch as he’d fumbled half asleep upstairs for bedtime. 

Depositing the basket next to the stairs to be dealt with tomorrow morning, you made your way into the kitchen. You grabbed the bottle of Malbec that you'd picked up at the store earlier and poured yourself a generous glass before making your way toward the living room, pausing at the door frame, your eyes trailing the little pencil lines that documented your son’s growth through the years. 

Your finger traced the one that said, Eli, 5 years old, the last time that Justin had been the one to do it. You could see the moment so clearly, the light in your son’s eyes as his dad gasped, marveling at how much he’d grown since last year, asking him if he’d been sneaking spinach when they weren’t looking. Eli had giggled as Justin had hoisted him into the air, exclaiming that he was going to be bigger than him, something her son could not fathom as his father always seemed larger than life. 

“I miss you,” you whispered, closing your eyes, tears burning the backs of your eyelids. 

You hoped he could hear you, somehow, someway, through the span of time and space and death. You hoped he knew how much you missed him, how much Eli missed his dad. You hoped that he knew that there wasn’t a day that went by where you didn’t think of him and wished that things had gone differently. 

Your feet led you into the living room and you collapsed on the couch, your head resting along the back. You'd never once asked Justin to give up the military. Not when you were dating, not when you got married, not even when you found out you were pregnant or after your son had arrived. You'd always known how much the job meant to him. He wouldn’t have been your Justin if he’d walked away.

No. You'd always accepted it was just a part of him like the color of his hair or the way he rose before the sun no matter what time he went to bed. He was a soldier and that was it. There was no speculating on that, no room for compromise. To ask him to quit would have been like asking him to give up his soul. 

You'd worried. Of course you had. You knew it was a possibility but he always came home to you…until he didn’t. 

Even knowing it’s a possibility never actually prepares you for the real thing. Yeah, you knew it could happen, that at any moment something could go wrong when your husband was heading into hostile areas. But you never actually entertained the thought. He was the other half of you. You couldn’t possibly survive without him so he had to keep coming home to you. 

And how could you not have known when it happened? If your souls were linked, if you were connected the way you believed you were, why didn’t you feel it when he’d left this Earth? Surely there should have been some pain, some ache, some sign from the Universe that the other half of your heart had been destroyed.

But you'd known nothing. You'd woken to your alarm, made breakfast, gotten Eli ready and dropped him off at school. You'd stopped at the grocery store and chatted with Nick, the cashier, like it was any other Tuesday. He’d told you that he was heading to Stanford the following fall for Mathematics and Statistics. You'd come home and started the laundry. You were just plugging in the vacuum when the knock at the door came. How could you have been sweeping when a piece of your very soul had been destroyed?  

How could you have been sitting in your living room, sharing a glass of wine and laughing with Janice, when your husband was bleeding out half a world away? You'd focused on that for so long when you'd found out when he died. You'd hated yourself for it, for enjoying life, for having a laugh, while he lay suffering so far from his family. 

The ring of the phone jolted you from your thoughts. Blinking, you set your wineglass down on the coffee table and padded, barefoot, to grab the cordless from its stand by the television before the ringing woke up Eli.

“Hello?”

“Hi honey. It’s not too late to call, is it? I was going to call you earlier but your dad invited Jerry and Susanne over without telling me and I just got them out of my house. They just bought a camper and once we got on that subject, they would not shut up about it. They had to tell us about all the bells and whistles it’s got and all the places they’re going to see. Good grief. It’s just an extra-large tent, you know.”

“A tent doesn’t have a running bathroom.”

You smiled, dropping back onto the couch, lifting your glass to your mouth as you listened to your mom rant for ten more minutes about this couple. 

“Your dad met him at the golf course and, of course, now I’m stuck with not only him but his braggy wife. Now she wants to have lunch next week. She wants to tell me all about the pool they’re having put in this summer and the kitchen remodel they did last year. Please. I hate people who show off. Money doesn’t make anybody better than anyone else. Money can’t buy you manners or a kind heart.”

“No, you’re right about that. But come on, mom. Don’t you think it would be nice to get out of the house and go to lunch? You just met the lady. She might have been trying to impress you. Give her a chance.”

“Oh, don’t you start, too. Your dad’s been saying the same thing. Susanne loves reading romance novels just like you. You should invite her to your book club. You two have so much in common. Just give her a chance.” You could hear your mother’s eyes roll through the phone. “Maybe I don’t want to give her a chance. I have plenty of my own friends.”

“But dad doesn’t.”

A loud sigh came down the line, “I know he doesn’t. Anyway, how are you and that beautiful grandson of mine?”

“We’re both really good.”

Your mom went silent which was never a good sign. 

“Mom?”

“Really? That’s intriguing.”

“What’s intriguing?”

“The emphasis you just put on really.”

“I did not emphasize really,” you sighed, heading falling against the back of the couch. 

“You absolutely did. So what is the reason for this over-emphasized really?”

“Mom…”

“Oh, come on. Something’s changed since the last time we talked. And it’s something good by the sound of it. Is it so bad that I want to know what made my daughter so happy?”

“You’re very nosy, did you know that?”

“I do but also, you’re my child so I am allowed. If I can’t prod into every part of your life, then whose can I? Besides, it’s been far too long since I’ve heard that little…what word am I looking for? Delighted. You sound delighted. Exhilarated even. Dare I say exuberant? Effervescent?”

“Just because you teach creative writing at a university doesn’t mean you have to throw the thesaurus at me. I am not one of your students.”

“Darling, come on. Tell me what’s got you sounding happy for the first time in years. I can keep going. You sound jubilant, joyous, lighthearted…”

“Oh my god, stop,” you laughed, running your palm over your forehead. “Okay. If you must know, there might be a person…”

“A person? And is this person of the male persuasion?”

“Maybe.”

“And how did you meet this person who may or may not have a penis?”

“Mom!” 

“Basic anatomy dear. It’s not that scandalous.”

“Jesus. You’re just as bad as Janice.” How you'd managed to be a product of your mother was beyond you, especially when your dad wasn’t much better. Both of them just said whatever they wanted, consequences be damned. “He is Eli’s little league coach. That’s how we met. Eli and his son, Jeremiah, became best friends this year at school and it started with just trying to get a playdate together. But then, because of the boys, we’ve been spending a lot of time together and he asked me on a date. We went out to dinner last night.”

“And?”

“And what?”

Your mother snorted and you could picture her face so clearly, the sound bringing back every time you'd tried to avoid a conversation when you were younger. When her mom asked about your crush on Elliot in junior high. When she’d tried to get you to share about your prom night. When you'd come home crying after Jessica Finch had told everyone you'd given blowjobs to half the basketball team. Your mother always knew and she always managed to dig it out of you no matter how hard you tried to resist. There was no resisting Sally Madden when she was on an information gathering mission. 

“How did it go?”

“It was…perfect? I mean, it was amazing. He’s such a good guy, mom. He’s ridiculously good looking.”

“Oh! Describe him for me.”

You sat forward, crossing your legs, setting your empty glass on the table. How to describe Steve? It felt like there weren’t the words to accurately depict how beautiful he truly was. 

“Okay. Well, he’s just under six feet. He has this chestnut colored hair. It’s so thick and it’s longer but not too long. It’s the kind of hair that most girls would kill for. He has hazel eyes and I swear, every color is in them. Sometimes they’re more green, sometimes more golden, sometimes more brown. It’s like they change with his moods. And his smile…his smile is like the sun. It’s so bright and beautiful and you just can’t help but smile too. And he has these adorable little moles on his face and neck. And he’s fit, you know, but not, like, too fit. He’s not all muscly but he definitely takes care of himself. His hands are huge. They could swallow my entire head but he’s so gentle. Oh, and his chest hair…I didn’t even know I had a thing for chest hair but apparently I do.”

Your mom giggled and your face flushed. You hadn’t meant to quite share all of that but once you began, it all just came spilling out. Had you really just talked about Steve’s chest hair with your mother? You could envision your mom’s feet kicking in glee, overjoyed that you had shared so much with her.

“Mom, please don’t make this a bigger deal than it is,” you pleaded. “We’ve only gone on one date and I have no idea where it’s going. It might be nothing.”

“I’m not making anything bigger than it is. Honey, you sound so happy. It is absolutely a big deal. It’s the biggest deal. Oh, I can’t wait to meet this guy who has made my girl sound like she’s truly living for the first time since Justin.”

That familiar knot of guilt coiled inside of you at your husband’s name. You rotated your ankles, willing away any kind of anxiety. It was okay. You were allowed to be happy. At least that’s what everyone kept telling you and if you shared how you were feeling with your mother, she would tell you the same thing. There was no point in rehashing it again. 

“Mom, it’s really not yet. It might not even be anything.”

“You know, we were talking about coming for a visit. This could be the perfect time.”

“Oh no. Wait…”

“Oh honey, I can’t wait to meet him. I can already tell by the way you sound that he’s incredible. And he sounds so dreamy but then, you’ve always had good taste. Maybe we could plan a trip for next month. Your dad wants to catch one of Eli’s games anyway.”

Oh god. Your stomach rolled, your eyes darting to find something to focus on. The clock on the wall, the steady tick of the second hand. The ashtray on the coffee table that Eli had made for you last year even though you didn’t smoke. Your red pumps sitting by the door, discarded after a long day at work. 

No. Your mom swooping in, fawning all over Steve, and inflating this into something much larger than it was…that was the last thing you needed. Sounds…you needed sounds. Any sounds that were not your mother screeching in your ear. 

“Mom, I have to go.”

“Oh, but sweetie…”

“No. I need to go,” you gasped, struggling to find air. 

“Honey, is it happening?”

“It’s ok. I’ve got control of it but I need to get off the phone.”

“Okay but if you…”

“Bye mom.”

You slammed the phone down, closing your eyes, going inward. The tick of the clock, the sound of someone’s radio playing next door, the hum of the washing machine. You wiggled your fingers, nodded your head, and tapped your foot. 

It was under control. You were in control. You could do this. If your parents came it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Besides, you would love to see them. The last time you'd seen them had been Christmas and Eli would be overjoyed that they were visiting. You would have to give Steve fair warning before then. Yeah. That wouldn’t be awkward at all. 

____________________________________________________________

Steve ran damp palms down the front of his jeans as he approached your house the next morning. You'd told him to be there by eleven so they would have plenty of time to get the baking done before the boys had to be picked up from school. Looking at his watch it was 10:56. He was right on time. 

Of course, that could be because of how stressed he’d been this morning. After dropping off Jeremiah, he had called in to the office just to check in and make sure everything was set for the day. As soon as you had offered to let him come and bake with you, he rearranged his schedule, moving a meeting to tomorrow and asking Gerry to do the rounds of some of the job sites. But still, it was his responsibility, and he just wanted the assurance that all would run smoothly and he wouldn’t receive any calls interrupting their time together. 

Gerry was great but he’d only been with the company for six months and often called just to double check decisions with Steve. His self-confidence was lacking. Steve had assured him that he could make the calls today, making it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to be bothered for the day unless it was a life-or-death emergency. Nothing would burst the bubble of a new relationship faster than constant distractions. 

He’d spent the two hours after that pacing, checking the clock, heading into the bathroom to make sure he looked okay, changing his shirt, anxiously waiting for it to be time to leave. On more than one occasion he’d grabbed his keys, thinking he’d just show up early but stopped himself, not wanting to seem too eager. But he was. He’d thought of nothing but you since your date, seeing your face, hearing your laugh, getting to taste those perfectly sweet lips again. 

You had even invaded his dreams in the very best way possible. After a rather vivid dream of you underneath him, his name falling from your lips as you urged him on over and over, he’d had to take matters into his own hands this morning to relieve the throbbing hard-on he’d opened his eyes to. His hand moving over his length, picturing you in his mind, those pink lips and beautiful eyes, your dainty hand stroking him to release. 

Fuck. Steve shook it off. He had to stop. He was not going to be able to control himself from making a move if he didn’t. It was hard enough to not touch you or kiss you when the boys were around and now, they were going to be completely alone in your house. That opened far too many possibilities and he didn’t want to push you too fast. He feared if the two of you made a move you weren't really ready for, then you would retreat, pull away from him, and this would be over before it really began. 

Bracing himself, he lifted his fist and rapped on the door three times. He could do this. He could control these urges. He wasn’t a fucking pre-teen anymore who didn’t know what to do with a boner. He had this completely under control.

But then the door opened and no, he absolutely did not because there you stood, looking so damn enticing and all he could focus on were those perfect pink lips, currently curved up on both sides in the most delicious looking smile, and he was overcome with the urge to shove you against the wall and kiss you senseless. 

“Hey! Right on time,” you beamed, waving your hand in invitation. “Come on in. I’ve got the kitchen all set up for us.”

“Great,” he replied, thinking you didn’t have the kitchen set up for what he actually wanted to be doing. “I am going to apologize now because I really am very bad at this. I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I may have just signed you up for double duty.”

You shrugged, bouncing barefoot, your toenails a bright sky blue, into the kitchen. The counter space was absolutely covered with mixing bowls, baking pans, containers of baking ingredients, and tupperware just waiting to hold sweet treats. 

“Not a big deal. I actually love to bake. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.”

“With your mom?”

“Oh god no,” you snorted, grabbing the container that looked like flour. “My mom would burn the house down if she tried to bake. She can’t cook, either. She hates the kitchen. If it weren’t for my dad, we would have lived off of take-out. No. I baked with my grandma. I used to spend most weekends with her when I was a kid and she always had something in the oven.”

“That’s cute. I can just picture little you, nose all dusted with flour. She never taught your mom?”

“Grandma on my dad’s side,” you explained. “We’re going to start off with basic rice krispie treats. Every kid loves a rice krispie treat.” At his skeptical expression, you laughed, sliding the recipe card toward him. “I promise. You can’t mess it up. It’s not even really baking. Nothing has to go in the oven.”

“You have far too much faith in me,” Steve told you, glancing down at the card. 

“You just melt the butter and then add the marshmallows. The trick is to keep stirring it until the marshmallows are completely melted. Then you add the mixture to the Rice Krispies, spread it in the pan, let it cool, and voila, you have a yummy treat. I mean, anyone can do that.”

“You clearly haven’t met me. I can grill any kind of meat you want but baking…but we’ll see. I’ll give it a go.”

He set to work on the Rice Krispie Treats, grabbing a saucepan and a stick of butter. He turned the burner on low, watching as you began measuring and dumping ingredients into a bowl. 

“And what are you making?”

“I am making my grandma’s famous strawberry crumb bars,” you answered. 

“Ahh. So, does your mom’s mom not like to cook or bake either?” he asked, swirling a spatula through the butter gently. 

“My grandma on my mom’s side doesn’t like anything,” you laughed harshly. “She’s a miserable woman who made my mom’s childhood hell. She got pregnant at twenty-two and the guy took off. She’s never told my mom who her dad is. I guess she never wanted kids and so she just acted like she didn’t have one. My mom practically raised herself, which is why she has no idea how to cook. She lived off of cereal and canned soup, whatever she could find because her mom went out most nights leaving her alone. She doesn’t speak to her and neither do I.”

“Damn, that really sucks for you and your mom. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, stirring the ingredients in the bowl. “It doesn’t really bother me. I never went without. It bothers me for my mom. It does suck. It sucks that she never had anyone to call about all the crazy shit that happens in life. I don’t know what I’d do without my mom. She drives me nuts but she’s my best friend, you know?”

“No,” he chuckled awkwardly, dumping marshmallows into the pan. “I actually don’t. I’m more like your mom, remember? Hell, I may as well be an orphan at this point. I haven’t seen my parents in years. They didn’t even come up to the hospital to see Jere when he was born. My mom saw him once, when he was four months old.”

“Jesus…that…Steve, I don’t even have words for that. How does a mother do that? How can they not want to see their own grandchild?”

“Probably because they don’t want to see me,” he answered, cringing as he attempted to stir the cereal into the sticky mixture. It did not want to mix and he had to give it some real elbow grease to get it to start blending together. “I’m a massive disappointment. I didn’t go to college. I didn’t follow in my dad’s footsteps and according to them, I married down and now I am reaping what I sowed. Like they’re the glowing example of a successful marriage. Staying together doesn’t mean it’s successful, especially when you can barely stand each other.”

You slid by him as he carried the bowl to the counter and you transferred your bars to the oven. Closing the door, you spun, hands braced on the handle. 

“You know they’re wrong, don’t you?”

“What?” he asked, becoming frustrated as the gooey concoction fought back, not wanting to leave the spatula to transfer into the pan. 

“Your parents. They’re wrong. Any parent who wouldn’t be proud as hell to have raised someone like you is completely out of their mind.”

“I think you give me far more credit than I deserve.” Steve groaned, shaking his hand as the marshmallow mixture stuck to his fingers when he tried to press it out of the bowl and into the pan. 

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you chuckled, grabbing the butter. “Here. Hang on.” You spread the butter lightly over the spatula, easily spooning the rest into the pan and then spread it over the top to even it out. “You don’t see what everyone else does.”

“I mean, it’s not like I’m not proud of where I’m at. I know I’ve done okay for myself. And I wouldn’t trade a single part of my life for the one they wanted for me.” Steve moved to the sink, squirting soap onto his hands, scrubbing at the sticky mess he’d become. “I just worry that you have this image in your head of me and you’re going to wind up sorely disappointed when I can’t live up to it.”

“Oh Steve, you’ve already far exceeded it. You don’t have to try as hard as you think.”

A shudder ran through him at the closeness of your voice. He grabbed the dish towel that was folded next to the sink, drying his hands as he turned to you, resting against the counter. You were right in front of him, those beautiful eyes filled with just as much desire as he was currently feeling. Was it real or was he just imagining it? Did you want this as badly as he did?

“I want to kiss you again. Jesus Christ, I’ve wanted to kiss you silly since you opened that door,” he stated boldly and you stepped into him, pulling the dish towel from his hands, tossing it back onto the counter. 

“So what’s stopping you?”

That was all the confirmation he needed and then his hands were on your face, his mouth descending on yours. His entire body sagged as if in sweet relief, releasing the breath he’d been holding since he’d arrived. He felt like a parched man who’d finally received a drink of water, the very essence of life seeping into every pore of his being. 

His hands moved to your hips as yours tangled in his hair and he pressed you back into the island, his lips never leaving yours. A moan vibrated from your body to his and the aftershocks of it shot straight to his cock. Fuck, he wanted you so badly. He wanted to taste every single goddamn inch of this woman, to run his hands over your bare skin, to watch as you unraveled before him. He wanted to worship at your goddamn feet. It was becoming harder to remember why he needed to wait. 

It was made damn near impossible when you pressed back against him, your bodies colliding against the sink once again. Your lips broke from his and you gasped his name when his thigh came between your legs. You rocked forward against it and any sense of self-control he had snapped. He had to make you say his name again and again. He wanted to memorize you, to find out exactly what made you feel good, and then watch you come undone when he did just that. 

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, your hips rolling as you sought out the pressure of his jean-clad thigh. 

Keeping one hand on your hip, his other slid into your hair, cupping the back of your neck. He finally allowed himself to explore more of you. His nose traced the line of your throat, his tongue following, relishing the shiver that raced over your skin as he did so. He sucked the lobe of your ear between his lips, reminding himself you were crossing over a dangerous line, one he wouldn’t be able to stop at soon. 

“Honey…if we don’t stop now…I don’t know if I’ll be able to,” he rasped when your fingers dug into his back. “Fuck, I want you. I want you so badly right now but if you don’t want this…”

____________________________________________________________

His words filtered through the fog of desire that had you completely lust drunk. Did you want this? God, you wanted this. Your body was craving this. You wanted all these stupid clothes out of the way. You wanted no barriers between them. You wanted him in a way you hadn’t wanted anything in far too long. Was it stupid? Maybe, but you couldn’t bring yourself to think rationally right now. The repercussions of this were a problem for later you to deal with. 

“I want this,” you choked out. “I want you.”

He groaned and then his hands were pulling your shirt over your head, his eyes hungry as they roamed over your chest, the pink lacy bra you'd put on as you'd tried to convince yourself it wasn’t for a reason when in reality it was for this exact reason. 

“You are so beautiful, honey.”

You needed to see him too. You pulled at the hem of his shirt and he reached for it impatiently, pulling it up and over his head, dropping it to the floor. Jesus. Your eyes raked over every tiny mole, the mass of dark hair that coated his chest, tapering into a line that disappeared under the waist of his jeans. 

“You too,” you murmured, entranced, your hand moving as if on its own, fingers slipping through the coarse hairs, following the line down his abdomen. You watched as his eyes slipped closed, felt the shudder that ran over his stomach, the muscles going taut, at your touch. 

That soft smile, those warm eyes, threatened to melt you just like the butter on the stove. His fingers slipped under the straps of your bra, his eyes locked on yours as if asking for your permission. Your teeth raked your bottom lip. You nodded, feeling the silky straps slip over your biceps and down your arms. Then his fingers were brushing the curve of your breasts and he was gently pulling the lace away from you, exposing your nipples, already hard little pebbles. 

“I just want to taste every single inch of your skin,” Steve whispered, the backs of his hands tracing the mounded flesh, ripples of anticipation coursing through you. He stepped into you, forcing you to step back. “Is that alright, beautiful girl?”

“Yes…”

Then his lips were wrapping around your nipple and your hand was in his hair, eyes rolling back in your head, your back arching against the island. He nibbled, licked, and suckled before his tongue glided over your skin, providing the same attention to the other. Your body was absolutely humming under his attention and when his fingers found the button on your pants, you trembled with the expectation of what was to come. 

“This okay?” he mumbled against your skin, face nuzzled between your breasts. 

“Uh-huh…” you whimpered, losing yourself in the feel of those stupidly soft lips moving lower, open mouthed kisses pressed against every single bare inch of you while his fingers worked your button and zipper. 

His thumbs hooked in your belt loops, dragging your jeans down your legs, his lips taking the time to savor each inch of skin as it was exposed until you thought you would implode with need. Steve’s hand curled around your inner thigh, nudging your legs apart and you obliged, hands gripping the island behind you for dear life. 

He looked up at you and your eyes found his. That was a mistake. As his tongue ran over his lower lip, his eyes darkening, turning a deep chocolate brown, you thought you would come right on the spot. You'd never had anyone look at you with so much desire, not even Justin. But you quickly shut that thought process down because if you let him in right now, you would never be able to go through with this and you wanted this so much right now. You needed this. You needed this like a man who had been starving for days needed a meal. 

Steve leaned forward and then his warm breath caressed the lace of your matching pink panties. You inhaled sharply, eyes slipping closed as his nose ran over the fabric, bumping over exactly where you needed sweet relief. You whimpered softly, hips rolling toward him. His fingers curled into the cloth, pulling it down your legs while his mouth teased, kisses that were far too soft dancing over your inner thighs. 

You lifted one foot and then the other, allowing him to pull them away, your body now completely exposed to him. Steve lips traced a path along the curves of you before they found yours again, his hands working behind your back, sliding bowls and canisters away. Those large hands grasped onto your ass, lifting you up and setting you on the island, your legs dangling over the edge. 

“Lay back for me, honey,” Steve urged, his palm pressing against your breastbone until your back was flush with the formica. His hands slid along your body, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as his eyes soaked in every inch of you, stopping when they reached your pussy already glistening with need. “Jesus, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I can’t believe that I’m the one who gets to touch you…” 

His thumb traced the seam of you and static, nothing but static filled your brain. He slid through your slick and then he was applying pressure where you were aching for it, grazing over the sensitive nub, your hips rocking up to meet his hand. All rational thought was gone. You couldn’t have contemplated anything if you wanted to. The only thing you could focus on was his hand and then his fingers pressing against your entrance before they were inside you, stretching you. 

Your eyes fluttered open to find him focused on your face and you swallowed, hard. He was watching you like you were a painting at the museum and he was trying to interpret your meaning. Like you were an image he was trying to burn into his memory. Your already overheated skin was blazing under his scrutiny. 

“Does that feel good?” he asked, his free hand roaming the length of your torso to palm your breast. “Tell me, honey. Tell me what you need. I want to give you whatever you need.”

You were going to die. You were going to die right here, on your kitchen island, and you would be the happiest woman to do so. This man seriously could not be anymore perfect. The way he kept checking to make sure you were okay, the way he wanted to know just what you wanted. This man couldn’t be real. 

“It’s good…” you gasped. “Jesus, so good.”

“But tell me what you want. Come on. What do you like? Is it this?” He curled his fingers within you and your back arched, a wail of pleasure ripping from within you. Steve smiled, his fingers pressing against that spongy space within you that had your vision going fuzzy. “Yeah. You like that?”

“Yes…I like that…” you shuddered. “Oh my god….Steve…”

“I love when you say my name. Wanna make you say it over and over.”

He dropped to his knees, hands clasping your calves and draping them over his shoulders. A guttural sound, more animal than human, wrenched from your lips when his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking the tiny bud while his fingers continued moving within you. Your hips rocked, your head swiveled, your hands grasping the edges of the island so tightly the wood underneath was digging into your flesh. 

“Steve…” His tongue flicked and fluttered. “Steve…” He circled and swirled. “Steve…” His lips covered it again, pulling it between them tightly, and you screamed, “Steve!”

Your entire body convulsed as trails of fire raced over your skin, the spring that had been coiling tightly within you from the moment his lips found yours finally breaking free. Your vision faded as everything turned white around you and you shattered under the force of your release. 

An overwhelming need to feel every single inch of him overtook you and you shot up just as he was rising to his feet, the evidence of what he’d just done to you shining on his lips and chin. Your hands grasped at his face, pulling him in, the taste of your own pleasure evident on his tongue, only furthering your need for him. 

His hands dropped on either side of you as yours worked at his pants, pushing them and his boxers down over his hips. Pulling your face from his, you looked down, your eyes widening at his girth. The man was even more hung than you'd imagined. Your hand wrapped around the width of him, your fingers and thumb not quite meeting and the muscle in his jaw jumping as he ground his teeth. 

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he growled as you moved your hand along the length of him, stroking from root to tip. 

You watched his face as you stroked him, your thumb rubbing over the tip, spreading the dampness that was already collected there. He was so beautiful. His lips parted as he panted softly, the line of his jaw as hard as stone, his eyes closed, those long lashes resting on his cheekbones. And you were the one who was making him look that way. The very thought was enough to send you over the edge again. 

“Wanna feel you, honey. I want to be inside you. Would that be alright?”

Yes. God, yes. You wanted that too. In answer, you scooted forward, slipping the head of him over your heat, raking your teeth over your lip when he groaned, the sound a rumble that ran right through him. 

“Jesus Christ,” Steve groaned as he pressed into you, pausing to allow your body to get used to his girth. 

Your body stretched for him, welcomed him, as if it had been waiting for him. He pressed further, the movement so slow, until your pelvises were flush together and he was completely buried within you. His hand cradled the back of your head, his forehead pressed to yours, as they stayed still for a moment, just relishing the feel of your bodies connected. 

“Fuck, honey. You feel amazing. You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m good,” you assured, touched that even now he had enough control to worry about you, to take the time to ensure that you were handling him okay. 

His other hand gripped your hip as he began to move, slowly thrusting forward, his cock dragging along your walls, feeling like he was stretching you anew each and every time. He was being so sweet, so gentle with you, but you were craving more. You wanted him to move faster, to thrust harder. You wanted him to take you like you were his, to claim you, because in this moment you wanted nothing more than to belong to Steve. 

His finger brushed your bottom lip, “What do you want, beautiful girl? Tell me.” Like he knew exactly what you were thinking. 

“More…I want more,” you gasped, fingers gripping his firm shoulder blades, nails raking over the skin. “Faster. Harder…more.”

Your body was screaming for it. It had been so long since you'd done this with anyone and your pussy was practically vibrating with excitement to finally be put to good use. 

“Oh yeah?” His palm came to your breastbone again, pressing you back down onto the island. “I told you I would give you anything you want, do anything you want. You want it like this?” 

His hands grabbed onto your hips as he pounded into you, your flesh slapping together, echoing in the space of the kitchen. You cried out his name, your hands wrapping around his forearms to keep yourself from slipping over the counter. 

His hips pistoned relentlessly, giving you exactly what you asked for and that snake in your belly coiled tightly, prepared to strike once again. Gripping his arms, your back bowed, as you tumbled through the stratosphere that was the earth shattering release exploding from within you. 

“Oh fuck…Jesus…you’re so…fuck!”

Steve thrust into you, fingers clenching on the flesh of your hips as he grunted, his release filling you. He sucked down a large gulp of air, sweat glistening along the skin of his forehead and collapsed forward on you, his face pressed between your breasts, cock still nestled within you. 

“Holy fuck…” he gasped, his lips peppering your skin with soft kisses. 

Your fingers slipped into his hair, “Yeah…that’s definitely one way to describe it.” 

You lay there, panting, struggling to come back down from the high you were currently on when your nose wrinkled. You smelled something…wrong. It was an acrid smell, almost smoky. And then your fire alarm began blaring.

“Shit!” you yelled, slapping at his back. “The bars!”

Steve jumped up, slipping out from you and as you leapt from the island, his release slid down your legs. But you couldn’t worry about that when dark smoke was currently billowing out of the oven. 

Steve grabbed onto a pot holder, opening the oven door and pulling the bars that were now a burnt crisp out. He dropped them on top of the stove while you ran to the kitchen window, cracking it open, waving your arms to try to get the smoke out. Steve grabbed the dish towel he’d used earlier and waved it by the smoke detector until it finally stopped its incessant beeping. 

“Holy shit,” you gasped, bent forward and then you burst out laughing at the absurdity of this moment. Both of you, bare ass naked, racing around the kitchen to empty it of smoke. 

“Yeah, holy shit,” he laughed. “I mean, I like to think sex with me is pretty hot but I’ve never almost burned down a kitchen before.”

“So much for the bars.”

He shrugged, slipping up beside you, his arms snaking around your waist, his face nuzzling into your neck. 

“That just means we need to do more baking and I would definitely like to do more baking with you.”

Chapter 11

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Side note: I am getting ready to leave for vacation in a week so it might be a couple weeks before the next chapter drops because I don't plan on writing while I'm gone. But it will be here! Thanks so much for all the support. 😘😘😘