#iron cut shelving

[winsource]

Contemporary Basement Medium-sized modern basement image with green walls and porcelain tile flooring

[lovelyyellowdress]

Lookout Basement

[casscaincampaign]

Basement (Tel Aviv)

[tmrrwppl]

@behindtheireyes

"You missed me, sis, admit it. Everything is boring without me around. Also your husband needs to be regularly beaten with a tire iron to keep his massive ego in check."

[neosimi]

🧺 4t2 JOMO Laundry Set 🧼

happy monday! here is something that has been in my wip folder for several weeks now. 😅 this set includes 21 items, mostly deco with a few shelves and a sink. the shelves all have 6 slots, the clothing hanging on the assembly shelf works best in the middle slot. the towels in the storage closet however, work best on the outer slots. the sink has a dirty state, it’s not the best but it’s better than nothing lol. the deco tiles are placed more easily with cheats. hmm, that should be all. as always, please lmk if there’s any issues. enjoy!~ ʕ✿˵·ᴥ·ʔ

files are compressed. collection file included. full list + polycount under the cut.

download: [sfs] | [box] ♡

credits: KKB. 

Assembly Shelf v1 - 408 polys | $200 | surfaces/shelf

Assembly Shelf v2 - 174 polys | $200 [repo]

Clothing v1 - 1241 polys | $25 | deco/sculpture

Clothing v2 - 1536 polys | $25 | deco/sculpture

Deco Tiles - 72 polys | $10 | deco/misc

Deco Tiles Corner Long - 100 polys | $10 [repo]

Deco Tiles Long - 80 polys | $10  [repo]

Deco Tiles Corner - 102 polys | $10 [repo]

Drying Machine - 1216 polys | $200 | deco/sculpture

Drying Rack - 1082 polys | $50 | deco/sculpture

Fabric Conditioner - 402 polys | $25 | deco/sculpture

Iron v2 - 510 polys | $25 | deco/sculpture

Iron v1 - 350 polys | $25 [repo]

Ironing Board - 630 polys | $50 | deco/sculpture

Laundry Detergent - 380 polys | $25 | deco/sculpture

Laundry Hamper 1246 polys | $50  | deco/sculpture

Laundry Sink - 648 polys | $200 | plumbing/sink

Liquid Laundry Detergent - 224 polys | $25 | deco/sculpture

Storage Closet - 116 polys | $200 | surfaces/shelf

Towels - 222 polys | $25 deco/sculpture

Washing Machine - 1285 polys | $200 | deco/sculpture 

☕ ko-fi?

[dpr-stay]

Nanamiiiiiiiiii my beloved. I’ll fix the formatting in the morning :))))

——————————

Nanami’s almost halfway through the door when he pauses. It’s 4 in the morning, an outrageous time to have been woken up by the buzzing of his phone.

He’d rolled over and blearily reached for the device, seeing a call from one Gojo Satoru on his home screen. A quiet groan had left him before he’d sat up in bed, the covers moving from his bare chest to his lap.

Clicking the side button to lower the volume, he’d clicked the answer button before standing up and steadily walking to the bedroom door. Slowly closing it to not make a sound, he’d raised the phone to the side of his face.

“Gojo, it’s too early.” He immediately started before Gojo launched into an overly energetic speech. Nanami stayed quiet as Gojo went on about curses this and students that, his mind elsewhere. Finally he’d cut Gojo off and asked for a location which Gojo supplied. After that, he hung up on the man, which he knew would result in an earful of complaints when he finally saw him again.

Opening the bedroom door again, Nanami walked to the half empty bed and placed his phone down on the side table. He’d briefly glanced at you, a pang running through his chest.

He’d walked to the closet, rifling through his shelves of ironed shirts, courtesy of you. A small smile played on his mouth at the thought of you being so domestic. He’d picked one, a complimentary pair of slacks as well, before making his way to the bathroom.

A quick shower later, the warm water running down his back aiding in properly waking him up, he’d stepped out to dry himself off. He reached for one of the towels hanging on the rack, checking both before picking the damper one.

After he was dry, he used the towel to wipe some of the condensation on the mirror. His reflection greeted him. He surveyed his barely noticeable eyebags, fortunately not the reddest marks on his skin. He huffed in affection as he shook his head, a hand raising to rub languidly at his neck.

Pulling his clothes on, he reached for a comb to rake his hair into place, the steam of the room hopefully setting it in place. With his watch fastened on his wrist, Nanami left the bathroom with the fan turned on.

He’d walked carefully back to the closet, grabbing his matching suit jacket and a pair of woolen socks, before turning to look at the bed. You were still sprawled on the bed, exactly as you were before he’d showered. He’d stepped over slowly to crouch beside your bed.

Your chest rose slowly with each breath you took and Nanami was hit with that familiar pang. It was an ache of longing. Realistically speaking, Nanami knew it was elementary to feel longing for a person who was beside him, literally and figuratively. But it didn’t stop him from yearning.

Yearning to be near you more, to create a family, to learn more about the person who had given their heart to him as he had likewise done. He could list endless things he wished- no, he felt he needed to do.

However, his most poured over thought was that he yearned to love more.

He loved you, you loved him. He wished he could indulge in your love a little more, he wished he could immerse you in the love he felt for you.

He wished that one day, when you and him both fell to dust, you could hold each other in your last moments with hearts full of the notion that you had loved, you had danced, you had lived till your hearts were full.

Nanami had leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek before standing up, his knees cracking as he went. He’d frowned, he was too young to have such creaky joints.

He’d made himself breakfast, mindlessly drinking coffee before he’d washed them in the sink, placing them on the drying rack. He’d slipped on socks, adorned his suit jacket, and made his way to the entryway of your apartment.

Sitting down the wooden step, he placed his feet on the tiles below. A draft came through the gap at the bottom of the door. His shoes were tugged on, laces done up with a quick flick of his wrist. He reached to tighten his tie before cursing quietly, remembering you were asleep. There was no use in potentially waking you up for just his tie, so he just decided to leave without it.

Grabbing his key from the side table, he opened the door and prepared to walk out. A cough stopped him and he turned around to see you, holding his tie and his phone.

He smiled, taking a knee as you approached. You were clearly still sleepy, your hair all mussed up.

“Hey sweetheart.” He said quietly as you reached him. You looped his tie around his neck and began to tie it, replying as you worked.

“You’re up early, did someone call you in?” Nanami sighed frustratedly and nodded.

You looped his tie finally, stepping back for a second before moving closer, grabbing his tie in your hand, and pulling him in to give him a peck. When you have decided that it had lasted long enough, you stepped back and saw his smile grow.

“I’ll see you soon.” He said and stood up from his knee.

“I love you.” You said as he approached the door again. He turned around and faced you.

“I love you too.”

—————

Tbh I’ll probs regret this in the morning too lol

[ghouljams]

I come bearing an angsty thought at this late hour! (Because it's like 2am here but I feel the need to share my sad with someone and you're my unwilling sacrifice of the day)

Anyway, I was thinking about how since Simon has experience as a butcher before he joined the service, in his cowboy era he would probably be more than happy to volunteer for butchering duty when someone brings something back from a hunt or one of the animals is slaughtered for dinner. So, it's the first time he's doing it since joining Price on the farm, probably has Goose chatting with him as he works since she's not squeamish when it comes to skinning an animal, and everything is going well.

But then, Simon goes to hang some of the meat up on a meat hook and it's like everything comes to a screeching halt. His whole body locks up, and although he logically knows that he's not in any danger and he's done this hundreds of times before, he hasn't touched a meat hook since Roba... The hook is swaying slightly in the wind, and it looks so, so sharp, and just thinking about how easily it can tear through skin and muscle-

Goose probably needs to go get Price, because Simon is not okay.

Oooh, I love hurting the boy. Early-ish days, the first time Ghost needed to butcher anything at the farm.

"Usually we send bucks to the butcher," you tell him, "but we've got set-up for dressings at least."

"Field dressed it, just need a clean space and some decent knives," Ghost supplies, hauling the buck out of the truck bed and over his shoulder. He doesn't need to, could always pull the truck around properly, but he likes the way your eyes follow the flex of his muscles. It's not a far walk, and he can shoulder 200 pounds easy.

You're all sweet smiles and laughter, asking for the worst deer blind jokes of the day; Ghost doesn't know how you can be so... yourself. You pull the cellar doors open, easing each one to the ground and giving Ghost the heads up to watch his height on the way down. Ghost keeps his eyes on the steps, careful to keep the buck from scraping the low clearance as you click on the lights. He glances around the old storm cellar when he gets his feet on the dirt. It's cool, good for storage, there are already cans lining the shelves along the walls. There's a table in the middle, butcher block. Ghost smiles to himself.

"Whose kit?" He asks, dropping the deer on the table.

"My uncle's," You toss it over your shoulder, moving towards the back, "he was the butcher of the family, Daddy's a good hunter but he sure as shit ain't cutting into that with anything stronger than a steak knife."

Ghost chuckles, tugging his own hunting knife from his belt. "Not for everyone," He calls back, "but better than 'aving someone else take the best pieces."

"Says the man giving away backstraps," You grumble. Ghost shakes his head, he hopes you never let that go. Sweet thing. Some day he'd work up the nerve to propose, find some reason to give you that was better than just himself.

"I'm not 'earing you complain about that, am I?" He jokes, glancing back over his shoulder, watches you give a sharp tug at a ceiling beam and rip down a hook. It hangs in the air, curving its horrible point back towards the heavy chain that holds it in place, the metal black with dried blood. Ghost's breath catches in his chest, his vision narrowing onto a singular point.

"Get away from that," Ghost tells you, his voice short, his eyes darting over the metal. You say something a thousand miles away, and wrap your hand around the hook. Ghost's breath bursts out of him like a gag, heaving out of his chest, his ribs throbbing with the memory of hanging. It's like he can't get enough air it, it all comes out too quickly, and the whole room smells like iron. Iron and dirt. You hold your hand over the point, speaking again, gibberish, garbled nonsense, your accent is too close to a memory he wants to scrub himself clean of. It's when you press your fingers against the mean edge of the hook that he really finds it in himself to move.

He's too sure that you're going to spear yourself, that your stigmata might mirror his own, holes punched in your body from the same terrible instrument.

Ghost's hand grabs your arm and rips you away from the meat hook, his breath coming fast and wild. He can see it, he can see the way it would happen, he can feel the blood under his nails. The process of being lifted like meat onto the hook, the blinding pain of the sharp tip piercing through layers of fat and muscle, the curve of it forcing its way through his body and around his ribs. He can still feel the metal under his hands, the links of chain that he tried to pull himself off of. He can feel each slippery, blood soaked, attempt to free himself.

He can see the way he'd lift you onto the hook, can feel the weight of you under his hand, the way you struggle against his bruising grip, the thump of your hand against his chest. He could add another scar to your body, inflict it on you himself, you could match, you could hate him, you could know, and he could save you the way he couldn't save himself. He could hurt you. Does he want to hurt you? Why does he want to hurt you? He doesn't. He does. He doesn't. He's-

You grab either side of his face and drag him to look at you. Ghost feels like his eyes might vibrate out of his skull, his vision blurring, aching with the lack of focus as it darts to and fro. "What has five toes and isn't your foot?" You ask him.

Ghost's brain grinds to a halt. What? What are you asking him? What does that have to do with-

"My foot," You finish, giving him a little shake. Something bursts out of Ghost that isn't pain or shock. He barks out a laugh, the tension in his muscles squeezing it out of him. It bubbles up from his chest and boils over, his body shaking with the release of it. His breath is quick still, something tightening in his core that doubles him over and forces his hands onto his knees as his laughter gives way to shaking sobs. There are no tears, he can't feel any tears, can't feel much of anything.

He can hear his heart racing, his blood rushing in his ears, as he stares at the dirt floor. No blood, no wounds, no bodies. He grabs his chest, feels the joined skin over his heart, the cold beat of it, dry. Your feet move like you're going to leave. He grabs you again, swallows down the beg for forgiveness, and instead squeezes your hand tight.

"I'm gonna go get Daddy," You tell him quick.

"Don't." Ghost tells you, trying to stifle his breathing, trying to reign in the heaving of his chest.

You sound apologetic when you touch his cheek and tell him, "I have to."

He knows you do. Ghost squeezes his eyes shut, feels your hand slip from his grip. He's never going to be as strong as he needs to be, is he?

[no-name-publishing]

El Dorado and Peregrine by @nigeltde-fic

Very excited to finally have these two incredible stories on my shelves, and grateful to the author for having written them. Some extra glamour shots and writing below the cut like always

The bookcloth is plain linen bookcloth that I've painted with gold and bronze fabric paint and set with an iron. I struggled for a while to decide what materials this should be done with, and ran some experiments that all kind of blew up in my face lol. Sometimes the tried and true is such for a reason.

The top endbands are sewn with a single strand of satin finish cotton sewing thread, around a worsted weight cotton yarn core coated with PVA glue. The bottom, 'golden' endbands are sewing with a single strand of yellow polyester thread, so that it can be kinda shiny looking.

And a cheeky little video to show the insides, including original art. The fonts used were Century for the main body, and Calfine for the decorative. Thanks for lookin!

[breelandwalker]

Witchcraft Exercise - Spring Cleaning

There’s a marked tradition of cleaning and airing out the house in the springtime when the weather warms. As you’re dusting and tidying and getting rid of winter stagnation, take some time to do the same with your craft.

Clean and organize your workspace. If you have an altar space or a shelf where you keep bottles and jars and the like, remove everything from the surface and give it a good dusting. Take the opportunity to rearrange things or swap out pieces if it suits you. If you have ritual tools that don’t often get cleaned, check them for signs or rust or wear and give them a bit of love. Repair things that need fixing, if you can. If you have an iron cauldron that you use for fire magic, get a wire brush or some steel wool and gently remove any burnt residue left inside.

Sort through your supplies. If you have lots of candles and crystals and small items laying about, consider getting some small totes or craft organizers to keep things tidy. Divided storage boxes for beads or scrapbooking supplies are great for small items, and shoebox-sized caddies are perfect for taper, chime, and votive candles. Organizing things will make your space easier to navigate and also gives you a proper idea of what you have on hand. Which might help you resist impulse purchases the next time you’re out shopping for witchcraft supplies. While you’re tidying, be sure to discard any rubbish, candle stubs, wax blobs, herb scraps, bits of string, incense bases, and so forth that might be cluttering up the place. 

Discard things that are too old or worn to be useful. Dried plants and seasonings can usually be kept for 1-3 years if they remain in sealed containers. If they have no scent anymore or smell musty or mildewy, discard them and sanitize the container. If you’re using supermarket spices, you can use the expiration date on the container as a guide. Powdered material will likely last longer than whole herbs or cut-and-sifted material. One helpful tip is to put a purchase date on packets or bags of herbs when you buy them, or to put a little date sticker on your jars of herbs when you refill them. (Anyone who’s worked in food service will probably be familiar with the concept of container dating or day-dotting.)

If you make oils or tinctures or suchlike in your practice, check on these as well. Make sure nothing has gone off or lost its’ potency. Day-dotting your potion containers will help with this as well. A simple sticker with the name of the brew and the date it was bottled will help you keep track of your supplies and know when something needs to be tossed and replaced. (You can also print labels with the ingredients and purpose of the brew if you’re feeling super organized.)

Reorganize your books and resources. Review what's there and see if there are any materials that need to be weeded out, donated, or discarded. Remember that as you grow and progress, some things will become obsolete or may show themselves to be unhelpful or inaccurate. It's okay to remove things from your resource library that no longer serve you if you want to make some space on the shelves.

You can also cleanse your workspace and/or components while you’re tidying if you wish. It doesn’t have to be a full clean-slate-everything-must-go cleansing, but it can be helpful to just clear out stagnation or bring in some freshness and vitality.

Happy Witching! 🧼

Want more witchcraft exercises? Check out the masterpost here and visit my shop for spell kits, books, magical powders, and more!

(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar, tune in to my monthly show Hex Positive on your favorite podcast app, or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Wow, this is 1931 home in Winnetka, Wisconsin is impressive. 9bds, 9ba, $8.9M.

Wow, look at the carved wood walls. There's an original tile floor in the foyer, too, and a leaded glass inner door.

You know, I like the white carpet on the stairs. I wouldn't want to clean it, but it looks beautiful. This home has those bas relief ceilings, too.

Is it the way they're photographing the room to get the ceiling in, or are the ceilings low? The large sitting room has wood paneled walls to match the entrance hall, plus the same ceiling and a beautiful fireplace.

Very classy guest powder room. Black marble floor with white veining, and the marble counter on top of an antique dresser has a sink ringed in gold. The gold wallpaper ties it all in.

Comfy home office. The rounded desk looks art deco and is nestled perfectly in a triad of framed windows.

The library shelving is gorgeous. Oblong octagonal cutouts in carved shelves, and that gorgeous fireplace in the middle has a pediment with a pineapple and a black & white marble surround.

I like this light dining room. Cream and pale blue bas relief ceiling is so soft and stunning.

These cheery bright dining spaces are so pleasing. This is a breakfast room in creamy white and it gets a lot of sun from the windows to the garden.

The kitchen is a professional chef's kitchen. It begins with a large pantry done in the same cream color with large glass paned doors on the cabinets so you can see the dishware. The kitchen cabinetry looks maple and has a cute corner fireplace, black countertops and copper pots hanging over the double island.

At the top of the stairs on the 2nd level is a magnificent oval leaded glass skylight. The glass panes are opalescent. And, there's a large sitting room up here, too.

They've made a walkway between 2 area rugs in the huge primary bedroom. On one side is a lovely mahogany canopy bed that contrasts well against the white room and the other side is a sitting room.

There is a huge home office up hear with a pretty French Provincial desk and a chaise lounge.

The bath is nice, there's a separate room for the toilet, and a lovely vintage marble counter on the sink. Love the rust-colored marble on the floor.

What a lovely guest room. It's so large, there's a huge picture window between 2 full-sized canopy beds.

Down in the large basement is a rec room that looks like the ultimate man cave. Rich dark wood furniture, a red pool table with an unusual pool lamp- it's not the usual stained glass, this fixture has foxes in red waistcoats holding up electric candles - love that.

Wow, man cave indeed. That fireplace is the size of a room. You can definitely walk in there. And, look at the life-sized butler statue in the corner. Is he creepy?

The home gym looks commercial. Mirrored walls and a black ceiling make it look industrial.

Outside, the iron gate makes it look like a secret garden.

The hedges are cut in patterns.

It must cost a fortune to maintain these gardens. The property is 3.25 acres.

Is it me, or does the pool look like a fidget spinner.

I love conservatories and this one is lovely. The plants and wicker furniture really bring the outdoors in.

This is the prettiest tennis court with the trees and latticed fencing.

An elaborate play set for the children looks like it conveys.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/44-Locust-Rd-Winnetka-IL-60093/70453195_zpid/

[sspiderliliess]

diamond .

⟶ astarion x nervous, soft gn!tav — romance

i hyperfixated on bg3 for a while... i should get back to it. this feels like a bit of a word vomit and im still learning to express right but gosh i love emotional astarion stuff. (astarion and tav have a moment while they tend to his wounds | tav is gender-neutral but takes ideas from a female oc) ❤️‍🩹

⟶ rating — fluff?? suggestive at the end | tw blood, references to astarion's past

A tender flame danced. Outside, beyond the tent’s flimsy walls, rain poured for miles. The thriving forest floors squelched with a sea of puddles, the skies veiled with gray. But the pale crimson of the vampire’s tent was blooming with orange as the light within a lantern flickered across the walls and his belongings. 

Trinkets left and right beckoned my wonder, chiseled figures and crackled books that showed their age placed atop the shelves and the indigo rug. In the dark, the gold gleamed and teased my vision. Against the petrichor and iron from his bleeding gashes, the faintest aroma of wisteria tickled my nose.

Ah, yes! The nighttime florals just nearby. I remember being so delighted that our group’s camping spot was placed so conveniently close to those lovely plants. Purple was a soothing color, and those wisterias could comfort me almost as well as any lavender-based remedy could. 

It reminded me of Astarion, sometimes. My gaze wandered to the deep cuts across his leg, caked with drying blood and shining against the lantern’s light. The sight had been with me since it happened early in the day; a bundle of determined trolls could certainly leave their mark on someone—particularly three right across his calf and thigh. But sitting here, breathing in the smell of his blood that strengthened with every dab of the washrag, my stomach began to stir. 

Either that, or his more notable nature came back to my senses. Had I really forgotten how regal he was after all of this? A magistrate, he said. Different circles, he said… I love you, he said. I’d spent a good time getting to know him and his quick-witted remarks. His irritable nature reared its head often, but something beneath the rough had always twinkled if I squinted just right. He didn’t have to take these hits for me. I knew my heart felt truly for him, but I didn’t know he’d be the type to do that so quickly.

“Darling, I don’t mean to be rude, but—ack—it’s just that this blood is finding its way all over my bedding. I could tend to this myself, you know?” 

I turned my attention back to Astarion, who had propped himself up and was leaning my way with a hand reached for the stained rag. The gash on his thigh was oozing with blood, a thick trail pooling onto his blanket.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” I gasped and crawled forward to continue the cleansing. 

He furrowed his brows, then raised them, and a smile etched onto his lips. “Now, for a vampire to get lost in thought at the sight of blood, I could understand… but what’s making you so bothered?”

“I’m,” I hummed. “I’m unsure.”

I tilted my head and continued to absentmindedly dab at the cuts. He laughed under his breath.

That familiar Astarion in his playful quips and egotistical humor. Those with a demeanor such as that rarely gained my attention for too long; I was always frightened by what judgments they might make, how out of place I felt. In the beginning when our group happened upon him, it’d bothered me quite a bit and I was sure he caught onto that, thus, I did what any mature person would have done when met with some sort of problem.

I ignored it.

The sly fox had taken note of this reaction. Maybe that was what got him to be nicer to me so quickly, less… prickly, especially in the times where I let him feed. But as I’d grown closer to him in our travels and had more meaningful conversations, I found him to be a book I might like to read, and the teasing came back on its own. I wasn’t bothered then. I might’ve enjoyed it. I still find myself thinking of that evening back near the grove, where he nearly choked at the teasing he threw my way when he saw the small and clumsily crafted animal in my hand. I told him how my mother had made those kinds of things with me, back in Baldur’s Gate when I was just a child and felt lonely, and his laughter stopped.

He seemed hurt by that. Regretful, almost. I'd like to think that turned out to be a nice day, though.

I was pulled from my gnawing thoughts once again as a slender finger slipped under my chin. Astarion looked less playful now, eyes glazed with what looked to be concern. He sat there in silence for a moment, staring at me until I felt my skin heat with blood and my heart tremble, and then he sighed. “Sometimes, I don’t know how to go about talking. It’s easy to flirt, to say things you don’t mean. But I would like to know what you’re thinking. Truthfully.”

He continued to hold my chin up with that single finger, his eyes almost pleading to listen and talk. It was the Astarion less familiar to most, and like a timid rabbit spoken to with the softest voice, I found myself being drawn closer right then and there.

“You told me a while back that you were a magistrate, a long time ago,” I began, awaiting his response.

He swallowed slowly and shuffled to make room for me on the bed. “I was, yes. I don’t remember much more than that. That life is so distant now, a pained memory of what was and what could have been, I suppose.”

He didn’t move aside from a mournful wince that I was sure had little to do with the physical state he was in. He laughed bitterly, “It’s funny to think about. I remember that simple fact, but nothing about me.”

It almost shocked me, the way he seemed to care so little about his old role. To be of such importance in Baldur’s Gate, to have such power over just about anyone before you… and yet, have it taken away in an instant. It threatened to sprout an ache in my chest—the thought of such a family and stability gone in the blink of an eye, power replaced with powerlessness. In the quiet and my dwelling, I understood him just a bit more. I could only wonder what happened to make the paths fall as they did. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Thank you for helping me today. We might not know who you were back then, or what happened before, or what you looked like, or what you knew… But I know you now. And I’m grateful.”

I’d always been so cautious with him, so much so I could hardly form the words properly. I pushed myself to keep my eyes on him, though, and I watched as he looked to the ground with a smile. Those crimson eyes appeared much glossier.

In that moment, I did what any confident, self-assured individual would do. My heart pounded against my chest the minute I leaned forward to gently wrap my arms around him. He paused briefly and I heard his breath hitch, but he returned the gesture.

“I’m grateful to know you, too,” he sighed into my ear.

His breath and curls tickled my neck, where old bites were planted. I’d forgotten they were there until his nose brushed against it and a dull pain bloomed in their place. He stayed like that for a while. “I know that I’m in no place to have a passionate night,” he said a bit awkwardly. “But I would like to spend what time with you that I can, if you’d like..?”

It took me a second to understand just what he meant, and I couldn’t help but pull away with tensed brows and a muffled giggle. “I don’t know if passion is the best idea, seeing as though you’re still bleeding as is.”

I pointed to the fresh puddle of blood on the blanket, where his leg had pressed into the furs. He scowled and pursed his lips, but his smile soon resurfaced. “Well, perhaps that another night, darling.”

He leaned back to lay down again and I grabbed the rag from the bowl of water, wringing it out as the dark reds faded to pinks again. It was then that I’d notice what sat opposite of me while I crouched on the ground. Tucked away from most prying eyes was a spindly little nick-nack on his shelf, with leaves and vines coiled together to make a deer-like toy that you’d think only a child could love. It was placed within a makeshift forest scene, crafted impressively from grass and sticks. It’d been a while since I’d seen it.

I didn’t think I would again.

[bro-atz]

in dire need of repair

in which: there's only one man who can fix your sad, vanilla sex life, and that man is sumin.

pair: mechanic!sumin/afab!reader

word count: 2.1k

content: smut, oral sex, car sex, fwb type situation, completely consensual!

tag list: @eyeryis @sinnarols @dutchessskarma apply for the permanent taglist here!

You stood in front of the Tricky Auto Repair shop, your bottom lip tucked in between your teeth. It had been a while. You quietly entered to see your favorite shop mechanic bent over, his head pretty much buried in the engine of the sexy orange Mustang he was fixing up. Grease smudges decorated his cheek, exposed neck, and forearms. His hair had changed since the last time you saw him— he decided to go short on the sides and grow the rest of it out, some of his hair tied up haphazardly.

“Hey,” you said softly, earning his attention immediately.

Sumin stood upright and faced you, his eyebrows raising slightly as he laid eyes on you. He would’ve said he was surprised to see you, but based off the way you were describing the last guy you were meeting for dates, he wasn’t surprised to see you. If anything, he was surprised to see you there so early— you’d only been seeing the guy for three months. Honestly, a new record.

“Well, well, well,” Sumin said with a sly grin as he watched you fully walk into the auto repair shop wearing your nicest— and ironically, sluttiest— clothes with your low-cut top and light-wash skinny jeans, your black, strappy heels, and your hair and makeup done prettily. He closed the hood to the car then wiped his hand on a rag and asked, “Don’t you think you look a little too nice for a place like this?”

“Save it, Sumin,” you sighed. “I don’t need your scrutiny right now.”

“No, darling. Not scrutiny— just your standard inspection.”

“What, like I’m a car?”

“You do ride kind of nice—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you interrupted with mock-exasperation and a sly smile. “Seriously, though. It’s been a while.”

“Three months isn’t that long. You’ve been MIA for longer. Everything okay?”

You let out a deep sigh and took a seat in your regular spot— on the stool in front of the tool shelves. “Very obviously not,” you replied sadly. “I dumped him.”

“I mean, I kind of figured… But why?”

“He was really sweet and nice, but like…”

You could only mean one thing when you trailed off like that. Sumin echoed your sigh from earlier and looked at you with slight disapproval as he said, “Oh God, Y/N… Not again.”

“I’ve just been so frustrated for the past however many weeks it’s been since I started sleeping with him! I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“I feel like you said this the last time…” Sumin pondered out loud.

“Not funny, Sumin,” you whined. “I’m seriously so sick and tired of men being like this! He literally never wanted to do anything. If I wanted vanilla, I’d get ice cream, not date a total stick in the mud.”

“Fair. So, what, you wanted to revisit this again? Us?”

“Please, for the love of God. I need it,” you nearly begged the mechanic.

“Alright, fine. Lemme close the garage for a lunch break,” Sumin said, a smile playing on his lips.

“A lunch break, huh?”

“Would you rather a fifteen?”

“No, a lunch break sounds perfect. Let’s do that,” you quickly stated as you jumped to your feet.

“Alright, darling. You remember what to do, right?” Sumin asked as he started to close down the garage, the natural sunlight slowly dimming as the door came down.

“Of course.”

You shed your purse and shoes before carefully leaning against the hood of the car Sumin was working on, your fingers teasing your hair out. Sumin finished closing and locking the door before walking back to the car. He trapped you against the hood, his hands pressing into the cool steel as he leaned into you. His lips brushed along your jawline before trailing downwards and leaving soft kisses along the slope of your neck. Your fingers pressed further into the hood of the car as you supported more of your weight when Sumin moved his hands— one on the back of your head and gripping your hair, the other cupping and squeezing your breast lightly.

The kisses on your neck got sloppier as his grip on you got tighter, his firm hands pulling you into him. You let out a little cry when he pulled on your breast a little too hard, making the mechanic chuckle slightly. “You’re the one that didn’t want vanilla, darling,” he teased you as he brought his head up to meet your bleary gaze.

“I don’t…” you sighed out. “I-It just feels so good, Sumin.”

“How bad was he for something like this—” Sumin asked as he gripped both of your breasts harshly, “—to make you feel so good already?”

“N-not bad, just boring.”

“Boring is bad, darling. That’s why you’re here with me,” Sumin whispered sensually before pressing his lips against yours roughly. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll make you feel so good that boring will be disgusting.”

Suddenly, he lifted you up so that you were sitting on the hood of the Mustang while he remained standing in front of the car. He tilted his head up, and his lips met yours urgently. You ran your fingers through his hair and gripped his neck and shoulder as he made out with you recklessly, mercilessly. He quickly worked on getting you out of your clothes, leaving you on that hood wearing nothing but your panties. He released your lips and trailed his lips down your chest and to your breast, his tongue teasing and flicking your firm nipples. You started panting when you felt two of his gruff fingers rub against and into your panties, your arousal fluid steadily staining your pair of pretty panties. The knot in your stomach was tightening the more he sucked your nipple and stroke you, but along with that knot came a sense of frustration. It was when he left kisses down your torso and brought his face close to your crotch did you finally break.

“Sumin,” you whimpered as you tried to pull his head away. “I want you in me already—”

“Oh, no, darling,” Sumin grabbed your wrists and forced you to let go of him, his hands pinning your arms on either side of you. “Not without giving me a little taste, first.”

Pushing your panties to the side, Sumin sucked on your clit, the feeling making your toes curl in an instant. You whimpered and brought your thighs together, trapping Sumin’s head. He continued to work on your clit as he let go of one of your wrists to finger you, his three fingers filling you up. You moaned loudly when you felt them curl inside you, rubbing your walls just right to the point where you grabbed his hair and pushed him closer to your cunt.

Your entire body tingled when you heard him begin to slurp up your arousal and when you felt his tongue tease you, his fingers withdrawing. His tongue flicked rapidly against your folds and pressed into you, the curve of his tongue and the feeling of his nose brushing against your sore clit nearly making you cum— and Sumin knew that the second your thighs began to tremble uncontrollably, making him stop almost immediately.

“Down,” he told you as he stood upright and wiped his mouth. “Face the hood.”

You slipped off the car and nearly fell to the ground, your legs wobbly from Sumin eating you out. You turned around and leaned against the hood of the car, your stomach in knots as you anticipated his cock.

Sumin stripped down so that his upper body was stark while he merely lowered his pants and briefs to let his cock spring out. He rolled on a condom and returned to you, his hands reaching for and massaging your ass.

“You don’t want vanilla, you say,” you heard him mumble to himself. “Babygirl, you’ll never get vanilla from me.”

Hearing him call you babygirl made your heart flutter and butterflies swarm your stomach, but the butterflies immediately disappeared and the knots returned when his cock swiftly entered you. Although it had only been three months since you last saw him, you forgot his size, and you forgot the amount of times his cock wrecked havoc on your pussy. You moaned loudly as a result, your sweet voice echoing in the desolate garage.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried. “S-sumin! Shit!”

“I know,” Sumin grunted out with a slight smirk on his face as his waist slapped against yours at a slow, steady rhythm. “You missed me so much, didn’t you?”

“S-so much!”

The mere fact that you agreed with him made his cock twitch with excitement. He bucked his hips upwards as he fucked you from behind, one of his hands moving from your ass to your lower back then slowly sliding up your back until his fingers were brushing against the nape of your neck. You turned your head to look at him to see an intense look of concentration painted on his face, his eyes darkening with every thrust.

Then, your head snapped back the second his thrusts got more powerful, stars slowly starting to fill your vision as his cock repeatedly brushed past your G-spot.

“Hnngh— Yes, baby! Just like that,” you whined and brought your leg up as you tilted your waist up, trying for another angle. “Harder!”

Sumin grabbed your raised calf and pulled your leg back, turning your entire body to the side. He was moving faster, his cock rubbing inside you so much to the point where you thought he was going to rip your insides out. His hand grabbing and squeezing your ass as he rammed his waist into yours was the cherry on top that you needed. The knots in your stomach quickly unraveled, and stars completely filled your vision as you came, your thighs shaking, your pussy convulsing and squirting your arousal all over the place. More came out when Sumin pulled out entirely, making you cry loudly.

The car, which was moving along to Sumin’s pace, settled down at the same time you were able to blink all of the stars and tears out of your eyes. You hadn’t cum at all in the past three months, making this moment so worth the wait, but yet, you wanted more. You locked eyes with him, the man immediately licking and biting his lower lip sensually as he saw your half-lidded, misty eyes begging him for more.

Wordlessly, he turned you around so that you faced him, your ass pressing against one of the headlights of the Mustang. He brought one of your legs up, his hand tucked perfectly in the space behind your knee. And just as fast as he turned you around, he re-entered you, his cock filling you up once more. Now that you were facing him, his cock seemed to go even deeper inside you, brushing against your cervix every now and then.

“You shouldn’t have worn makeup, darling,” Sumin joked, his sentence coming out choppily as he continued to fuck you. “It’s all messed up now.”

“That— Angh— That was the point,” you panted out.

“Oh, yeah?” Sumin chuckled throatily, his chest rumbling and tickling yours as he leaned in. “Then let me make it worse.”

He kissed you sloppily, his tongue searching for yours as it dove into your mouth. His hand wrapped around your neck lightly, his fingers pressing into your skin ever so slightly that it barely restricted your breathing. It was subtle, but it did a fucking good job. You could feel the blood rushing through you, sending your mind through another high, and when his cockhead hit your cervix with all of his force, you came again. You clenched your pussy tightly as Sumin refused to pull out and let you cum completely, making his own vision go white.

“Shit,” he groaned against your lips, the vibrations from his voice just continuing to stimulate you. “I’m cumming!”

Sumin pulled out in an instant, your fluid finally being allowed to release, your cries echoing as you came even harder than the time before. Sumin, meanwhile, slipped the condom off and pumped his cock several times before ropes of white decorated your stomach and breasts, his breathing heavy as he came just as hard as you did. After he emptied his load completely, his breathing slowed down, and he sighed blissfully before reconnecting your lips with his.

“How… Was that?” he asked breathlessly.

“Exactly what I needed…” you responded in the same way, your chest rising and falling as you hugged him and kissed him again. You rested your forehead against his and continued, “Definitely not vanilla.”

“I told you, babygirl. You’ll never get vanilla from me.”

[matchabears]

notes on falling in love

pairing. alhaitham x reader (feat. kaveh) synopsis. it’s in the little things, really. wc. 1k themes. angst, unrequited pining, modern au(ish) because i barely give any description lmao, this is mostly about feelings, feelings tw, alhaitham is a robot science man allergic to the human spectrum of emotion now playing. hoax by taylor swift note. the way i’m shit at writing angst but am incapable of writing anything else

“you don’t like me very much, do you?”

alhaitham pauses, in the middle of shelving the stack of books in his arms. he doesn’t look down, but he can see you blinking curiously up at him in his peripheral. 

he’s relieved that he’s at the very top of the ladder, so you don’t notice the way his fingers tighten around the spine of the book and how he has to shift his weight so he doesn’t lose his balance. when he opens his mouth to respond, he draws in a shaky breath. 

“i have no reason to like or dislike you,” he responds curtly. “so long as you do your job properly.”

that’s right, he has no need for such useless sentiments; he’s a man of science after all. flowery language and cursory emotions are a waste of energy and all detract from his ultimate goal of pursuing concrete, infallible knowledge. 

so he steadies himself and climbs down the ladder, ignoring how tightly his heart constricts when he sees you smile. 

it’s just an organ. 

“i guess i walked right into that one,” you grin before nodding towards the stack of books in his arms. “need help with those?” 

“no,” he simply says, pulling the ladder to the other side of the shelf. with his back turned to you, he’s much more at ease. if he can’t see you, then he can’t find another attribute of yours to commit to memory.  

you don’t listen, though, because you never do. instead, you snatch the books from him and climb the ladder yourself before he can react. 

“what are you doing?” he furrows his brows.

“trying to get on your good side,” you hum.

“is this why you’ve been following me around all day?” he sighs. 

you wince sheepishly. “was it that obvious? i thought i was being pretty subtle.” 

alhaitham, with traitorous eyes trained to notice and analyze every little detail, follows the movement as if it had a magnetic pull, dragging his gaze across your features. he drinks in the color of your eyes, the slope of your nose, the flutter of your eyelashes, the glow of your skin, and the tinted sheen on your lips like he were studying a textbook on astrophysics.

but it would be amiss to compare you to any branch of science, he supposes. sciences produces results, logic, and answers.

you are loud and obnoxious, ironic for someone who works in a library. you are a hindrance more than help to most of the daily tasks, cutting down productivity by at least fifty percent with your chattering and penchant for distraction. you are person with a naturally alluring disposition that draws people in. you are able to speak to patrons of the library with a charm that seems mystical to him. you are a warmth that only exists in the confines of fantasy. you are everything he finds to be a waste of time in a person, and you are everything that he is not. 

you are the only anomaly he can’t solve.

“you are many things, but subtle is not one of them.”

that makes you laugh, and the ladder, as old and rickety as it is, trembles just like the stupid organ that is his heart. as if it were a reflex, alhaitham reaches out his hand and steadies the ladder. 

it’s a pointless gesture, really. him holding the ladder still doesn’t eliminate the risk of you falling. yet, he grips the wooden material so tightly that his knuckles turn white. 

“is it so wrong of me to want to be friends with my new boyfriend’s roommate and also my co-worker for way longer than that?” you whine. 

what ridiculous titles, he thinks to himself. he and you can barely even be regarded as acquaintances, but you’ve somehow found a way to establish a connection. alhaitham doesn’t even want to be acquaintances with you, most certainly not friends. 

he despises that you are almost nothing to him. why couldn’t you be something or just nothing? you’re almost. almost something and almost nothing all at the same time. that gray area makes him feel, feel, feel—that damn word—like he isn’t in control; it’s an ugly, dark sensation that coils in the pit of his stomach like a venomous snake.

“i don’t want to be friends with you,” he chokes out, a desperate tinge to his voice that he hopes you don’t notice. 

“well, i’m a lot more stubborn than you think, so just you wait,” you reply in a teasing manner. 

a muscle in his jaw spasms just as someone calls out your name, sparing him from having to respond. 

alhaitham watches as your face, the one he’s been enraptured with since the moment he’s laid eyes on you, lights up with an expression that he will never be able to bring out of you. 

you hurriedly climb down the ladder, your conversation with him long forgotten, and he doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. 

“kaveh!” 

logically, it makes sense that you ended up with kaveh. he leads with his heart instead of his head, he lets his personal attachments get in the way of rationality, and he’s a person that will consider your feelings first and foremost. and above all, he has the capacity to love you. 

love, a mere chemical defect of the brain. love, needless self-sacrifice for a temporary high. love, a concept that alhaitham will never understand. 

the way you smooth out the non-existent wrinkles in your shirt,

the way you aimlessly fidget with your fingers and bounce on the balls of your feet,

the way you drink the can of black coffee he hands you even though you dump at least five spoonfuls of sugar in your normal cup, 

the way you suck on your bottom lip to hide the bitterness and smear away the lip gloss you put on especially for him,

the way your breath hitches when he laces your fingers through his and brings your knuckles to his lips,

the way you look at kaveh just like how alhaitham looks at you.

“you don’t like me very much, do you?”

no, he doesn’t.

[anjelicawrites]

The perfect stay at home husband

Paring: Billy Washington x reader

Synopsis: slowly Billy learns to become the perfect house husband and welcomes his spouse home in the best of ways.

Warnings: dom / sub vibes, kissing, crying, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, collar and leash usage, Billy being very needy, ‘pup’ used a pet name, f masturbation with a rabbit vibrator.

A/N: reader is AFAB but not described. Where needed, they/them pronouns used.

NSFW and 18+ only under the cut!

Your life with Billy didn’t start in the best of ways. Indeed, the fact that he was jobless didn’t help his mental health; that the job market was, and still is, a nightmare for someone without big credentials like his, was another nail in that specific coffin. To you it wasn’t an issue, you didn’t think any less of him because of this, temporary, condition and you were more than happy to provide for the two of you, your job paying you well enough for the feat; if only Billy pulled his weight at home!

You had told Lana repeatedly that their parents didn’t do a good job at making sure Billy was capable of taking care of himself, he mostly left the bulk of the housework to you and would look at you with his baby blue opened wide, telling you he didn’t realize that those chores needed to be carried out.

One Friday you literally exploded at him, screaming that he wasn’t a guest in the house and that you were sick and tired of picking up his slack! You didn’t even give him the chance to explain himself, you left slamming the door and went to your friend’s house to spend the night, getting absolutely hammered in the process. 

Billy came to pick you up in the morning, his head more hidden between his shoulders than usual, the judging glares of your friend didn’t help his already crumbling self worth: he knew well enough your friend didn’t like him and believed you could have so much better than him. You two walked home blanketed by a tick silence, only enhanced by the sounds of London around you two, your head hurting and him more pathetic than his usual self. 

The apartment wasn’t as messy as you left it the day before: the array of dirty plates and cups had disappeared from the sink, the reusable shopping bags all neatly folded and the mountain of shoes shelved in the shoe rack next to the door.

“That's all I could do.” Billy told you, his eyes not truly meeting yours. “You were right, I should help you more with housework. I don’t know what to do, but I’ll try.”

You cupped his cheek and he nuzzled your palm like a cat: he missed you last night, his guilty heart keeping him awake most of the night.

“You can ask me, if you want. And there’s Google to help you.”

And that’s where you made a huge mistake: not considering how much of a people pleaser Billy is, how much he lives to be told that he's done good and that he is not as subpar as he thinks he is. 

He tries, bless his heart, but his learning curve is very steep. 

You’ve lost count of the amount of shirts he burned while ironing, or the plants he knocked off by mistake while he was dusting, or that one time he tried to unclog the drain and almost flooded the apartment. 

And then there's TikTok. 

In his personal quest to become good at maintaining the apartment clean, he stumbles upon the videos of people mixing up chemicals, and he follows them religiously, without truly thinking about which detergents he's using at the same time, if he should put those together and that, perhaps, he should keep the window open. You've lost count of the amount of times your local A&E called, because he's almost poisoned himself; you are basically on a friendship level with the nurses there and one, a friendly brunette, has told you they tend to get worried when they don't see Billy pop up every once in a while. 

As steep as his learning curve had been, he's now become very good at keeping the house spotless, so much so you two decided he should be a stay at home husband, by the time you two tightened the knot. 

It had taken him a while to unpack all the toxic ideas he was raised with, how a man should be and act: be the breadwinner or be a failure, find yourself a job and don’t live off your spouse and housework is not real work and it’s not for a man to do.  It hasn’t been easy for him to accept that he could still be a man and take care of you in ways that aren’t a big paycheck, that the world outside, how competitive it is, isn’t truly for him, and that he isn’t less of a man for this.

The last nail in the coffin had been your promotion and the probable move to the Milan office; neither of you wanted to suffer through a long distance relationship and the meager positions Billy had applied for, didn’t have the option for him to work overseas.  When Milan stopped being an option, you both had decided that he should still stay at home and be happy.

When you unlock the door you welcome the sight of Billy kneeling on a pillow, naked and collared, with his head bent and the leash neatly folded in his hands; his eyes fleetingly meet yours to then focus on the freshly clean carpet again.

“Welcome back” He says with a deep voice, tinged with a need you know all too well.

“Hi sweetling.” You answer back.

Slowly you remove your shoes and leave them on the rack; you savor the feel of the carpet under your feet and that your heels are finally off for the day. Through your lashes you observe Billy’s body vibrate with need and decide to play with him, because you haven’t tormented him in a while.

You walk towards him and stand where he’s kneeling, your center in front of his face and you can see the way his pink tongue darts out to lick his beautiful lips.

“Is there something the matter, my love?” You ask with a sweet voice.

“Please.” He whines.

“What do you need, pup?”

His face falls against your skirt, right where your cunt is and he takes a long whiff.

“Use your words Billy.”

Your voice is stern now, your fingers in his hair hurt him when you force his face up, to stare at his expression.

“I need it, please.”

His voice is a pathetic, little whine, his eyes don’t meet yours to show his submission to you.

“Billy, Billy Billy.” You punctuate every iteration of his name with a strong pull to his hair. “You need to be more specific and don’t act like a dog in heat.”

With that you use your fist in his hair to pull him towards the couch; you could have used leash, you could have ordered him to walk, but you need that extra bout of ownership over him, as he does and he complies with small whines as he tries to crawl at your pace and can’t truly manage.

You lose your hold when you sit on the couch with your legs spread, Billy kneeling between them; you see the way his eyes focus on your, now, exposed panties. You can’t help but smirk at his naked desire, his need to bury his face in your cunt: with him is almost a daily occurrence, one way or another he’s on his knees, worshiping you, hungry for you like you are the only meal he’s going to have for days.

“I’m going to ask you for the last time, BIlly: what do you need, my sweet pup?”

“Please, let me eat you?”

For the first time since you returned home, his pretty blue eyes bore into yours, so huge and sad and pathetic.

“But I’ve been out and about for the whole day Billy, I need a shower.”

You pretend to stand up and he panics, his hands go to your hips and his face burrows against your clothed cunt.

“No, no, please! Don’t make me wait!”

You try to dislodge his face from between your legs and he just curls his hands tighter around the soft meat of your hips, as he whines, desperately against your clothed cunt, the vibrations traveling up your spine, almost stealing a moan from you.

“Billy! Billy!” You try to say as you grab fistfuls of his hair to make him move. “Be good and behave or I will not let you eat me!”

You know that he knows you’re not kidding, your tone carries the weight of your treat, and he pulls his face back, but doesn’t stop him from pouting, staring at you with big, accusatory eyes.

You wind your hand around the leash before he can start any more shenanigans.

“I need you so bad!” He wails, with a pathetic, sad voice.

“I know I have been at work a lot, pup, but you should remember your manners, always.”

He looks contrite now, with his head lowered again.

“I just missed you so much.” He mumbles.

“As I did you. Look at me now.” You say with a firm, yet gentle, voice.

Billy complies, his eyes are glossy with unshed tears and his lower lip is bitten raw: he’s not kidding when he’s saying that he needs you badly.

“You will eat my pussy, eventually. I will have to punish you first, though.”

His breathing quickens after your words and the tears start to fall, silently they roll down his pink cheeks, making him look even more pathetic. You hug him and his long arms sneak around you, curling as tight as possible around your frame: he needs you, needs to know you’re not mad at him.

“Shh, sweetest pup, shh.” You kiss the crown of his head. “I love you so much.”

He cries harder at your words, the sobs wreak his big body and you have to hug him with all your strength, gently rocking your bodies until he calms down and lifts his head to look at you; his eyes are crystal clear, the color of the mountain sky after a rainstorm and his cheeks are apple red.

“Do you feel better?” You ask, caressing his cheekbones with your thumbs.

“Yes. I worked myself up over nothing. I’m sorry.” He sounds contrite and ashamed of himself.

“No pup, I’m the one that’s sorry. I’ve let work overrun my life, and that should have never happened.”

You tend to do that, hyperfocus and work yourself into exhaustion; even with Billy in your life you still make the mistake to forget that there’s a life outside your office. When you were still single, you were the only one suffering, but now you have to consider your husband’s feelings and needs as well, and you were terrible at that, as of late.

“I’ll tell you, next time. I will not let your job steal you away from me again.”

“Thank you, pup. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You lean into him and kiss him slowly, tongue sliding against his with sensual strokes that have him moan wantonly, precume leaking from his reddened tip copiously with every slide of your tongue against his.

“Let’s go to bed. Your knees must be raw.”

“As long as you’re happy, I don’t care.”

“This is the reason why that’s my job.” You smile down at him.

You help him stand up and interlock your fingers with his; he stares at you as if you’re a miracle and you can’t help yourself but kiss his stubby cheek, giggling like a teenager.

You let him undress you, his big hands caress your body with gentle strokes that turn heated when your breasts and cunt are revealed to his hungry eyes.

“Go kneel on the bed, pup. I need something before you can feast on me.”

Billy follows your order with his eyes fixed on you, drinking down the sight of your naked skin as you retrieve the small box with the toys; you make sure he sees the rabbit vibrator in your hands, and the lube.

Leisurely you walk to the bed and stand behind him, before bending to kiss his nape.

“I’m going to be quick with your punishment. I’ve missed your mouth so much, pup” You whisper in his ear and he shudders, willing himself not to come untouched.

Billy is kneeling at the end of the bed, you sit with your legs spread and your back against the pillows; your hole is already wet and you know he can see it, the thought makes you clench and he moans.

“Are you thinking about my cunt strangling your cock? How tight I can be just for you?”

Billy moans and his hands curl into fists.

“Yes. I love your cunt so much.” He whines.

“What a good pup that you are.”

Looking straight into his blue eyes you uncap the lube and pour a generous amount on the vibrator, before turning it on and spreading your labia for Billy to see.

“Tell me, pup, why do you like my cunt so much?”

His intake of breath is visible when you insert the vibe which is set on the lowest speed.

“It’s…” He gulps. “It’s pretty and warm.”

He has to close his eyes when you start pumping the vibrator in and out, nice and slow, your eyes never leaving his.

“Yeah?” You moan.

“Your lips are so plump and soft. Christ please!”

“Keep going, pup.” Your hips jut up when you insert the vibe fully, letting the small part sit against your clit.

Billy is staring at your center unabashedly, his tongue is liking his lips with hunger.

“Puppy please, tell me more.”

You can feel your body arch under his stare and your hands go to your breasts to play with your nipples: you want to be as wet as possible for him, give him all of your essence.

“Taste so good.” He pants, visibly restraining himself. “So much of it for me, can live off it.”

“Yes, oh!” 

The head of the vibe pushes against your G spot as you writhe on the bed and you almost come.

“Clit so small and pretty, needs licking and sucking, baby please!”

He’s so desperate, thinking about your perfect cunt has him fuck the air like a dog in heat and seeing you touching your body, all your muscles vibrating with pleasure, drives him absolutely mad, his nerves burning with the need for your body.

“Yes pup, come to me. Drink from me.”

You lift your hand to him and he jumps to you, hastily removing the vibe to suck your essence there and discard it on the bed.

He lays on the mattress and grabs your hips to plaster his face against your center, his tongue licking at your folds desperately, his nose pushing haphazardly against your puffy clit. You keen and moan, your hips pushing against his face as his tongue fucks you and you curl your muscles around it to feel him fully.

“Billy! Billy, yes!!!” You scream. “So close Billy!”

You explode in his face, and he keeps going, slipping one finger inside of you and sucking on your clit like a desperate man, the pad rough against your G spot and you fuck yourself against his face, the pleasure making you delirious for him.

“Fuck all my holes Billy” You keen. “I love you so much!”

You scream when you come again, tears streaming down your face when he doesn’t stop and licks fat stripes up and down your cunt, his hands hurt where he’s keeping you in place and your feet kick against his back, you beg and cry, too much pleasure burning through your body life wildfire.

You try to slip away and he grunts, making you jump, forcing you closer to his hungry mouth and tongue, his teeth nibble at your abused clit and you squirm and cry, your body arching under him, so much pleasure, too much pleasure frying your brain, 

It hurts, you can’t get enough of him, so much pressure builds inside of you, his tongue flicks your poor clit and his lips suck it harshly as you whine and cry. 

He slurps on your honey, hungry and fast, your nerves burning for him, your hands in his hair grabbing the strands with desperation; his moans destroy you and you squirt all over him, his tongue fast to lick everything you’re giving him, until it hurts and he lets go, only to lay his face on your tummy, breathing your intoxicating scent in.

“So good, Billy.” You smil, drunkenly at him.

BIlly stares at you with adoring eyes, his lips leave small kisses on your tummy and you laugh, his stubble tickles you and, you fear, you’re going to have burns everywhere on your tights.

“Were you serious?” He asks, after a bit.

“About what?”

He’s cuddling you now, keeping your face close to his chest.

“Me using all your holes.”

His cheeks burn bright with embarrassment and you hug him with all your might. 

“I very much like it, Billy. I love your cock so much and I would gladly let you use it on me however you want.”

Billy almost chokes on his tongue and can’t meet your eyes.

“Even your arse?”

Sweet Billy; you don’t laugh because you know he will likely feel offended. He’s still exploring his sexuality, trying with you all that he has never had the courage to do in his past relationships.

“Even that. I want to feel you for days. Every time I walk and sit, I want to remember the weekend you fucked me like a whore.”

Billy’s hips stutter against your tummy, and you feel a drop of come splutter against your skin.

“Would you like that, pup?”

Billy’s eyes cross at the mere idea: he’ll do anything you want, tarnish your body  in all the ways you’ll order him to use.

“Yes.” He moans. “I can’t wait.”

[fishbrainboy]

secret relations

summary: you and Jenna have something going on behind the scenes but she's not as committed as you might think

a/n: bro idk what this is ima go make noodles have a good read

word count 939

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You watch the scene Infront of you with an amused smirk on your face as Jenna drums her fingers impatiently on the desk, the interviewer directs yet another crude question your way “so y/n a lot of the fans have been blown away by your latest sex scene” she turns to Jenna's a gleam in her eye “Jenna what's it like to be in such an intimate scene with someone as attractive as y/n I think everyone wants to know what it's like to be under her” Jenna's hand clenches in the soft fabric of the table cloth eyes going dark for a split second before the professional face came over “the more intimate scenes are a lot easier with someone who can stay as in character as y/n especially with how kind she is when someone makes a mistake on set” she took a deep breath “I do believe that's all the time we have, busy schedule and all”

before you know it she's up and dragging you out of the room you stumble over your feet she may be small but god that girl moves fast you giggle as she pushes you into the supply closet you bump into the shelves “ah fuck Jen” the rest of your complaint is quickly silenced by her lips on yours her fists clenching in your jacket pulling you as close to her tiny frame as possible your hands find their way to her hips as you Mold together perfectly she pulls away that dark look back in her eye “I hate when people ask those questions I mean first of all how un professional and second of all do you have no shame? Practically eye fucking what's mine right Infront of me” “what's yours? Careful there Ortega your starting to sound sentimental over there” oh that was the wrong thing to say and you know it as soon as the cursed words leave your mouth, her face falls flat void of all emotion, god you detest that look you watch not even bothering to say anything as she straightens out her shirt and tie Jenna gives you a once over before she leaves muttering a goodbye you don't catch, you slump to the wall mind reeling, how stupid can one person get I mean she finally starts showing possession and you open your big mouth and put your foot in it again, you smack yourself on the forehead “stupid fucking idiot” you let out a groan as you pull yourself up and start your long drive back to your apartment.

You manage to get yourself lost 3 times on the way out of the random building your manager had sent you too for the onslaught of interviews You'd had that day, and you could deal with all that but as soon as your keys slipped right through your fingers and hitting the floor with a rough clang the noise echoing in your eardrums you officially declared this the worst day ever you throw your door open and it lets out a defiant squeal thumping into your apartment and throwing yourself down on the sofa you call the only person on your mind her tone is clipped obviously still mad about your previous comment “y/n its half 10 at night why are you not in bed?” the sound of her voice breaks you down fingers trembling gripping the phone in an iron grip as the tears start to fall “I'm sorry Jen it's just” she cuts you off her demeanour doing a 180 from the cold and distant person she was moments ago “oh honey don't cry or apologise I'll be round in half an hour yeah?” this makes. ire tears fall you choke out a yes and the call is over before its even started, you pull a blanket over your shoulders and snuggle in wondering what version of Jenna you're going it have stood at your apartment door today.

Your answer comes quicker than expected, she must have sped her whole way over, you open the door eyes puffy from crying you stare at each other for a moment deep brown eyes meeting y/e/c orbs your lips part in anticipation but she breaks your normal sex driven cycle and throws herself into your chest arms wrapping tight around you stumbling back in Suprise you regain your balance leaning forward to swing your creaky door shut lacing your fingers in her hair and breathing her in you feel the waterworks start again, she pulls you gently to your sofa sitting you down and wrapping you in her arms “talk to me sweetie, what's going on” her voice is soft and it curls around you making you open your mouth without a second thought “it's all just so overwhelming the interviews the flying god last month I didn't even know what fucking day it was Jenna and you, don't even get me started on you one second you love me and I'm yours the next moment I'm just your coworker you shrug me off then have sex with mw in some random closet” your eyes widen as it dawns on you what you've just said, her eyes gleam with something you can't quite make out she hushes you pulling you into her chest “you need rest darling we will talk when you wake up” you hum in response suddenly feeling as if you hadn't slept in weeks, you stay like that a while Jenna's hands running through your hair listening to the steady thrum of her heartbeat you're not sure when you fell asleep, but when you wake up Shes gone.  

[caxde]

dazed and confused | eddie munson x reader

summary you work on Hawkin's music shop, and Eddie is a regular costumer. Your friends (Steve and Robin mostly) help you to gain confidence and flirt with him.

word count: 8.1k (i think is the longest oneshot ive ever done, yikes)

warnings fem!reader (but i think i didn't use pronouns so u know ;) ), fluff, like lots of fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, use and metion of beer and cigarretes. english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!!

“You might actually have fun” He said for the millionth time, following you around as you restock the shelves. 

“Oh, I dunno Harrignton.” You answer, glancing quickly at him. “Doubt I’ll do.” You remark, keeping track of what you needed to get from the back, you counted and scribbled down on your little notebook. 

“C’mon, just a couple hours, if you’re not having fun I’ll drive you back home myself.” You were getting slightly annoyed at him now, he could have chosen any day to come and mess around at your job, but as it turned out, Saturday was your busiest day, and it was release week for a lot of musicians, December approaching as it were. 

“Dude, seriously, you can come in here and annoy me, but please not today?” You begged as you walked behind the counter, leaving him waiting as you disappeared for a few seconds crouching down at the boxes and picking up a promotional poster that you begged your manager would let you keep. 

“If I leave, will you agree to come?” You scoff away at his question and the only response you received was him messing his hair up. 

“Why do you insist on me to come?” You demand, daggers shooting away at him. “Take Robin! Robin loves parties.” You say, truly meaning it, hoping he would listen to you. 

“Robin finally has a date!” He announces as a proud father, and you almost drop all the vinyls you were holding. 

“Shit! Really?” You ask with your face in complete glee, a smile growing in between your cheeks. 

“Yeah! Vickie asked her after she dumped that blonde dude, so, I need a wing-woman!” He explains, almost screaming even if you can tell he was aiming for a whisper, he was so excited it got to the best of him. 

“Why though?” You still didn’t understand why he wanted you there. 

“Okay, jesus…” He finally admits, sounding defeated as he walks behind you, you needed to restock more vinyls in the rock and metal section. “Nance is gonna be there… And… You know…” 

“Oh…” You said as you realized that he needed a little push to get the one that got away back. “Wait, didn’t Nancy dump you at a party?” You demand as you walk back to the section and start organizing the pressed music into different artists. 

“Well yeah, thought it would be kinda nice to-'' He cuts himself off, shaking his head and locking eyes with you. “Please?” 

“Jesus Christ….” At that moment he knew you had agreed, and his smile grew bigger. “Yeah, ‘kay, but you owe me, like… big time!” You shout at him, finger raised and everything, he smiled and nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up a six-pack or whatever you wanna.” He says as he’s leaving. 

“Or you could actually buy something for once!” You scream at him, too far away to actually hear anything you’re saying to him. “Asshole” You mutter under your breath. 

Keeping your brain focused on the task at hand, you looked at the bands that you had in front of you, Deep Purple, Iron Maiden, Metallica and Led Zeppelin. Your finger tapped the last one’s cover, thinking if you needed to get more stocked. And how in love you were with the last album. You were gonna buy yourself a copy as soon as you could. So you took a little bit longer to actually put them together, making sure everything looked nice and was easy to find, as you spin rapidly to get back to the counter, your body slams into someone else’s. 

“Shit, sorry!” You say as you look up at this boy’s face. You froze on the spot. 

“S’okay, wasn’t looking.” He says, grabbing your arm, pushing you back , looking at you, making sure you are okay. His brown eyes looking directly at yours. Long curly hair framing them. “You okay?” He asks, inclining his head slightly to the right. 

“Ah, yeah, yeah. Great. Um, if you need help with anything…” You stumble as you talk, you have only seen him from afar, never actually spoke to him, you didn’t even know his name. Only thing you knew was this, he came every Thursday and looked if you had anything new, so it was shocking to see him on a Saturday . 

He didn’t talk much when he checked the things off, biting his lower lip, he would nod and search for the money you asked for. 

“Actually, do you have the um… Perfect Strangers cassette? You know it’s-” You feel bad from cutting him up, but you get excited for a second. 

“Deep Purple? Yeah!” You say, happy to help him, he smiles at you and you can’t help your face as you copy his expression. “Great album…” You whisper as you relook at the shelves.

“Yeah, I Know, I lent it to a friend, and I don’t think I'll ever get it back, so…” He explains, as he follows you, you chuckle at his explanation as you nod. 

“Happened to me with Mötley Crue’s Too Fast For Love '' You say to him, at which you see him smile to himself. “Aha!” You let out as you see the little cassette, you point your feet to reach when you feel him behind you, arm higher than yours, chest closer than before, your cheeks growing red at an alarming rate as he grabs it before you, and you look up at his hand, three silver rings decorating his fingers. 

“I got it” He says, once you turn to him. He smiles as he messes with his hair, and when he realizes that he’s a little too close to you for a stranger, takes an apologetic step back, and signals you to go first, bowing his head low. You whisper a thanks as you walk to the register. 

“Do you… Um.. want anything else… uh..?” You ask, hopping he introduces himself, so you can stop referring to him in your head as hellfire boy 

“Um, Eddie.” He says, you smile as you hear his name, he does the same as he looks at you. 

“Do you need anything else, Eddie?” You ask, cheeks flushed pink and a smile on your face. 

“No, no, that’ll be it.” He says, searching for his wallet in his back pocket. You nod, and as you grab a little bag for his cassette, you leave a Deep Purple patch in the bag, a little gift for him. 

“Okay then, here you go.” He left a ten dollar bill and before you could give him the change he gestures a no with his head, smiling as he does so. 

“Keep the change, and thank you.” He says grabbing the bag, giving you one last look. 

“See you!” You say. 

“Yeah, see you.” He says, as you watch him leave, biting your lower lip containing your excitement. 

-

You were retouching your make-up in the passenger's seat, nervously fussing as you tried to apply mascara over the speed bumps. 

“Jesus Harrigton! Don’t wanna poke my eye out.” You say to him, as he slows down for once. 

“Sorry!” He says again. “Don’t know why you’re so nervous now…” He says under his breath, stopping at a red light, at which you take advantage of and draw in your waterline, black. 

“S’nothing.” You mumble, evidently lying. You can feel his questioning stare and you chuckle. “What?” 

“Someone’s happy…” He teases, as he leaves the red light you see him smiling at himself. “Oh… did he finally talk to you?” He says teasing you. 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about…” You whisper, dismissing his tone and smudging your eyeliner a bit, playing with your hair next. 

“Oh come on! I saw him in the shop eyeing you!” He says, you can’t help but smile.

“Damn it Steve!” You confess in between laughs. He parks his car as you continue. “He did… he’s nice..” You admit, playing with your ring nervously as you wait for him to stop the car. 

“Did you… I dunno, introduce yourself? Ask for his number? Flirt a little?” he keeps teasing you as he leaves the car, six-pack on his left hand. You slam the door shut as you let out air. 

“I panicked, only got his name…” 

“God you’re bad at this.” He chuckles, as he gives you an opened beer bottle. 

“Welp, you are supposed to teach me so…” You tease back, taking a quick sip. 

“Fuck off…” He says, opening one for himself, walking up to the noisy house. 

“I did give him a little gift, and he tipped, so maybe he’ll remember me next time…” You say looking at the floor, drinking a little bit more. Getting more nervous as you saw more and more people hanging about the place you were going. 

“Sure he will, you’re unforgettable!” He says sarcastically. You show him your tongue in a teasing response. 

It really wasn’t your scene, corny music, people making-out as soon as you opened the door could be seen, you really wished Robin was here, so you could speak to someone when Steve inevitably disappeared with somebody else. He walked to the kitchen and you followed him, you could see him searching for her, and you couldn’t resist but to tease him, whispering loverboy to his ear, he playfully punched you. But as soon as he saw her, he was left speechless. 

“You really like her, huh?” you asked him, eyes in the opposite direction. 

He nodded as he looked at you. You smiled, happy to keep watch in the kitchen. 

“Go!” You said to him, he moved his head no and looked at the ground, playing nervously with his hair. 

“No, no– I ah… Leave you alone?” he mumbled as he tried to keep his cool. 

“It is okay Steve.” you reassured him. “You go talk to Nance, I’ll make sure the beer is drinkable.” You say to him ironically, he chuckled and muttered a thank you to you as he left. 

You nodded at the two idiots. 

You knew Nancy still liked him, so you enjoyed seeing the two idiots in love talking to each other, from afar. It was also fun to tease him back. 

So you did as you promised, you stayed put with a drink in your hand, and when it finished, you refilled, holding onto hope that Steve won’t be long, and proven mistaken when twenty minutes pass. You grew bored of Bowie’s music, not that you didn’t like “The Rise and Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars” but you had been playing that for two weeks over at the shop, courtesy of his new movie he starred in, and you just needed a break. As you searched for a distraction, you saw an abandoned packet of Camel on the kitchen counter, jackpot. 

You could smoke it right there, but some fresh air would keep you more refreshed and awake. 

So you stumbled your way across, walking through the maze of drunken people, or couples grossly making-out. Hopefully, the back door was open and nobody was blocking it, so you could breath in the cold air, your beat up cropped Zeppelin shirt wasn't that much help against the cold, but you didn’t seem to mind, it actually felt kind of nice, to be able to feel the warmth the cigarette left in your fingers. 

Red cup in one hand, cigarette in the other, you looked out at the yard, and almost dropped them both. 

He was here. And he was looking curiously at you. He smiled as he waved to you, and you did the same, dragging the smoke out of your fingers, and as you see him approaching you can’t help but mutter shit to yourself. 

“Hey” He says, lips parted from the cold, rosy cheeks for the same motive contrasting his pale skin. 

“He-hey” You mutter, readjusting your voice, since it’s been a while since you spoke out loud. 

“What are you doing here?” he says, hugging himself, leather sleeves poking out of his jean vest. 

“I, um. A friend needed some luck…” You say vaguely, not believing that he was actually speaking to you, and not really caring why he actually was doing so. 

“Oh, he around?” He said, looking behind you, moving his head around, your eyes fixated in his neck. 

“Ah, no. He left with the girl a while ago. Hopefully he actually gets lucky this time…” You say more to yourself than to him, at which you catch him chuckle, and you smile in replay. And you can’t help but look at him again. You get lost in his chest, more importantly, in a newly stitched up patch, he notices you looking at it and smiles at you. 

“Found it in a bag…” He says looking at you, grin in his face. “Thank you, for it.” He continued. 

“Thought you might like it.” You admit, your cheeks were getting warmer, despite the cold that surrounded you. 

“I do, thank you stranger.” He said, as he winked at you, you nodded, words failing you in that moment. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“What you drinking?” he asks, reaching for the cup, and you let him take a sip of it, sight locked in his lips. “Mmh, nice.” He says, getting closer to you, offering his arm. “Wanna get more?” he asks. At which, you take his arm and head inside, not really believing that it was really happening, or what was actually going on. 

-

“Enough about my date! I wanna hear about yours!” Robin’s voice comes through the speaker of your telephone, you laugh in shock. 

“What date?” You ask, and for whatever reason she laughs at the question. 

“Oh come on” She says, ironically, you can tell she’s moving her head side to side. “Steve told me you weren’t alone when he came down” She whispers, and your hand reaches your eyes, shame in your heart. 

“God dammit Robs… He’s so nice… And it wasn’t a date, ‘cus a date would mean that he asked me out, which he hasn’t, and honestly, I think he was just trying to be nice ‘cus stupid Steve left me alone with people I don’t really know.” She was laughing again, you were getting flustered at the memory of him. 

“Or maybe, he wanted to get to know you, you know?” 

“I dunno… Don’t wanna create expectations and then…” 

“Yeah, yeah…” She finishes for you. “Well, tomorrows a Thursday, so maybe you’ll see him again?” She asks with teasing in her tone. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

-

It had been months since you had such calmness in the store. So much so, you were the only one working today, could choose the background music, and since everything was clean, stocked and organized, you could just enjoy the moment.

 Perfect stillness. 

So you crouched down to the little crate that you hide behind the counter labeled workers shit. You roamed through it, hoping to find something that would catch your eye, passing from album to album, admiring every cover art, because you quite literally had nothing else to do. As you emerged back up, you had a dilemma in front of you, and you let your head rest in your hands as you looked down at both albums. Rumors by Fleetwood Mac was an exceptional album, you had no doubt about it, but… Led Zeppelin’s self titled one was eyeing you. 

“Where to start, where to start…” You sang to yourself as you thought, completely lost in possibility. 

So it really shouldn’t surprise anyone, that his voice surprised you enough to jump as he spoke, making you both laugh. 

“No music?” He said before you jumped, and after a quick chuckle and apology he continued. “Sorry, I meant… You always have music playing.” he came back, and with him, your pink cheeks and nervousness. 

“I.. Well yeah, but I usually just agree to whatever my colleague wants, and I almost never have the choice so now I don’t really know what to start with…” You explain to him, fast, almost rumbling as he smiles at you, big brown eyes looking tenderly as he does so. 

His hands find their way over the counter, close enough to yours to make you unconsciously bite your lower lip, as your eyes follow them up. Hands, wrists, arms, shoulders, neck, long hair, eyes. His head looked down, as his fingers moved to grab the album on the left, focused as he read what they had inside, while the only thing you could actually focus on were the veins in his arms. 

“Didn’t think you liked Fleetwood…” He mumbled, you leaned closer, without really thinking about what your body was doing. 

“Well, Steveie’s voice… She truly is magic.” You whisper, more to you than to him. He lights up as his eyes meet yours, smiles in both your faces. 

“Wouldn’t really know…” He confesses, pulling his body closer, forearms resting atop of the counter, whispering to you. “Haven’t really given them an opportunity…” He says, eyes travelling from your eyes, to your lips and neck. Even if you were nervous about having him that close, you were so happy to be able to talk to him about music! of all things… You were just really enjoying the moment. 

“Well, you gotta.” You replay with a shy smile, your eyes completely lost in his. He nods as he taps the vinyl. 

“You got ‘em in cassette?” He asks, and as you nod you pull back a bit, looking at your shelf. You had it saved in case someone called <<Lauren>> would pick it up, but it's been three months and she hadn’t, so you decide to rip the post-it off and throw it in the thrash. You feel his sight locked on your back, and that might be why you move slower, or why your waist turns more than it needs to. 

“There you go.” 

“Thanks.” He says, reaching for his wallet. You put your hand forward, signaling a no with your head as you smiled softly at him. 

“On me.” You say, pushing the little plastic box to him. He smiles as he reaches for it, fingers touching yours, electricity between both of you. 

“You don’t have to…” He says, still holding it, brushing your index finger, eyes still locked with yours. 

“I want to.” You reassure him. 

He nods, and mutters a thank you. You look at him as he starts to leave and you go back to the vinyl, taking it out of its envelope, when you hear his sneakers turning around. 

“When do you get off?” 

“8.30.” You replay, shocked at the question. 

“You’ve got plans?” 

“No” 

“Wanna come to The Hideout?” He says, and you could swear he was the one getting flushed. “My uh… My band plays there at 9.30” He adds, your smile grows bigger. “We usually do it on Tuesdays and its a smaller crowd, but he got an offer to play today.” He says excitedly, rumbling like you do. “You can tell your friends” You can see him getting nervous, just like you did when he first approached you. “Or you know-” 

You cut him off. 

“I’ll be there.”

-

“So, it is a date?” Robin said once you arrived at the small bar. 

“No, I mean I don’t think so…” You replay, your eyebrows furrowed, as you looked at her smiling, teasing face. 

“But he did ask you?” She continues, with the same tone. 

“Well, yeah, but… y’know, a date is like, only two people, and you talk to the other person, and get to know them, right?” You try to rationalize, as you ask for help by looking at her. “I mean, he probably was just being nice, or… or friendly? Like, y’know, I gave him a tape so he invited me and a friend to come around…so technically… not a date?” She didn’t give you an answer, she just shrugged her shoulders and laughed, heading to the entrance of said bar, you followed her, not any calmer, not one bit. 

“Or he just wanted to show off, leave you impressed and then ask you out.” She says as you reach the actual bar, and as you push her shoulder in a friendly punch, she stumbles into a blonde girl you can’t really see, so you apologise, until you see Robin’s smile grow bigger in her face. “Well hello…” She muttered. 

“Hey cutie.” Vickie. You smiled at the sight of them, pure adoration between their eyes. They took a bit of time to eye one another until they remembered you were there, and you couldn’t help but laugh at them. 

“God, you two are cute…” You say, as they giggle back at you. “Do you idiots in love want anything?” 

“Nah” 

“We’re good, thank you!” Vickie says, finally looking at you, at which you nod. 

You walked back to the bar, glancing at your friend, and a smile on your face. You were incredibly happy for her, she had been patient, and she deserved it more than anyone, and Vickie seemed so nice…

“Waddu want, sweetie?” The bartender's voice snaps you back into reality, and you quickly look at him. 

“Ah, yeah, sorry.” He nods, and so do you. “Um, just a beer, please?” You say, maybe a bit too low you realize, but he seemed to understand you just fine. You reached into the inside of your jacket pocket, and once you had your wallet in your hand and looked at the man handing you the beer he shakes his head no. 

“Already taken care of, sweetie.” He says, pointing at Eddie on the stage, waving hello at you. You blush a little bit as you salute him with the bottle, mouthing a small cheers to him, and he smiles back with a thumbs up.

“Thank you” You say to the bartender, and he nods in response. You walk back to your friends as you check the time on your wrist, it was about to start. “Hey, d’you wanna get closer?” They both nod, and you march on, and surprisingly, and even if the venue wasn’t that big, it was packed tonight, so you decided to stay in the third row, where you could be more comfortable, and still have room to dance. 

“Oh shit, almost forgot.” Robin said, grabbing your elbow. “Steve gave me back your camera, says it should work now.” You smile as a thank you. The kids had begged you to trust them with this project, and hopefully they did a good job. 

“Is it loaded?” You ask, eyeing Eddie in the shadows. Light still not on. Robin nodded in response and you got back to admiring him. 

When the lights did finally light up, you were amazed. His arms were in full display, tattoos visible, and so were his veins, as he grabbed his guitar with force. The light bounced around his skin, making him look more defined than you had ever seen him. Just some hours ago you had seen him, but truly never like this. He ditched his usual Hellfire shirt, and wore a black button up, held together by the last button, so the red light that the stage had travelled down his chest, and what was worse, he was smiling. He was smiling directly at you. 

So you spent the rest of the gig taking pictures of him, as he looked at you, and on occasions, Robin photographed you smiling at him. 

-

“You really are their mom, huh?” You tease Steve as he hangs around the counter, waiting for the lunch club to actually pick what they want. 

“Shuddup.” He says, slightly annoyed, a smile on his face as he looks back at them. “And I prefer being called a babysitter, thank you so much.” He answers, nodding his head, making his hair bop up and down. 

“Okay… Babysitter Harrington…” He scoffs with a short laugh, as do you. You look down at the photos again, the kids developed them for you and you were in awe. And yeah, they had a million questions that you avoided. 

“So…?” 

“What?”

“Oh come on, you're smiling at them!” Steve points as he says so, grabbing one of the photos that shows a very happy you looking at him on the stage. 

“It’s nothing” You mumble, trying to not give it any importance, covering them with a piece of paper. 

“Oh, fuck off. You might be able to bullshit Henderson or Wheeler but not me.” He declares, looking at you. You could tell that he won’t stop annoying you until you open your mouth. “And besides, Robin told me some things. I mean she was more focused on the whole Vickie of it all, but y’know” 

“Yeah, I know. They really look happy Steve…” He asks you to continue with a raised eyebrow. “I just don’t wanna make a fool out of myself. He was just being nice. Not a date. Just him inviting me to his little gig.” As you say that you can’t help but recall him, in the stage, absolutely adoring the applause and praise he got, and how he soaked the light red up, making him look angelic and demonic at the same time. 

“Look, maybe he does want to ask you out, but he's too shy to do so?” He asks, looking at you, reassuring with a little tap on your shoulder. “Like you…” 

He gets interrupted by a little curly haired kid wearing a snapback. 

“You guys talking ‘bout Eddie?” Dustin asks, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Hello to you too kid.” You answer in return. “What is it gonna be Henderson?” You ask, in your customer service voice as he hands you over a little tape. “Huh, didn’t take you for an Iron Maiden fan Dustin.” You say as you scan it.

“Well…” He starts to explain as he reaches for his pocket. “It’s actually a present, y’know, an end of campaign gift for our DM.” He says excited, as he raises his eyebrows. 

“Oh, nice.” You smile back at him. “Sure he’ll like it.” You reassure him, even if you didn’t understand a word that came out of his mouth. 

“Yeah, Eddie said he loves this band!” Mike adds up, having found his way into the conversation, with another tape in his hand. 

“Oh, Eddie the um…?” They all nod, knowing what you were going to ask. “He actually already has this one…” You say with an apologetic look in your face. 

“Shit. You sure?” Dustin asks.

“Yeah, he ordered Somewhere In Time two weeks ago, and paid for it, he’ll probably come and collect it today or tomorrow.” You say as you turn the monitor to the kids, who stare with awe at the amount of data collected. 

“You keep track of him?” Mike asks, accusing you of something. 

“What? No.” You spit back at him. “I’m just good at my job.” You say as you stick your tongue out at him. “You could get him some uh… Black Sabbath, y’know?” You ask as the two little kids nod at you. You take a second to run to the back of the store and grab some of the ones that you still had to restock. “So one Seventh Star to go.” You say as you hand it to them, who look incredibly nervous now. “What? I can give you guys more options if your not-” 

They cut you off as they snatch the tape out of your hands and throw the bill at you as they run out of the store. 

“Who raised you?” You ask more to yourself than anyone else, as you're left there, in awe and shock, looking at Steve for some answers. 

“Your boy just got in.” He says as he nods to him, who was heading to the hard-rock section. “See ya!” He says as he runs to reach the little kids. 

You’re left alone and feeling completely speechless. Asking yourself a million questions about what has just really happened, but too focused on getting your job actually done, even if you were just distracted. 

So you recovered the box in the back with everything that you had to restock, being interrupted by a soft smiling Eddie standing at the counter, tapping along at the song that’s playing in the background. 

“Hey Eddie.” You salute him, shyly, leaving the box on the counter. 

“Hey stranger.” He said back, a smile growing bigger. 

“I’ve got your tape, hold on.” You say as you look for it on your shelf. 

“No rush.” He says, locking his eyes in you, watching patiently as you head back, and he really was looking at every detail of you, from the way that you walk to the way that your hair moved as you did so. He was blushing now. 

When you come back with it, you find him with the photo that Steve had in his hand, smiling as he looks at it, looking back at a very flustered you. 

“Oh…” Is the only thing that you manage to say. 

“You look good…” He mutters, with a whisper of a voice. 

“I um… thanks!” You answer, not really sure what to do next. So you leave the tape down and uncover the rest of the photos. “I took some of you and… Robin, well, the tall girl that was with me also took some and uh well… Wasn’t gonna really show them to you ‘cause they're kinda bad but-” He cuts your rambling with a chuckle as he looks at all of them. 

He’s smiling with his teeth, blushing and stroking them softly, his ring decorated fingers passing through them. 

“They are good. You make me look amazing.” He praises you. 

“Well, you are.” You say before realizing what you were actually saying. 

Once you did, your face was warmer and for sure showing colors. 

He smiles and you do the same, with a soft laugh as your eyes lock once again, his body resting completely on the counter now, dreamily looking at you, back and forth between your eyes and your lips. 

“Thank you…” He says, grabbing the tape. A moment of silence, not awkward but comfortable, is shared between the two of you. “What is… what’s this song?” He asks, and you're left in shock. 

“You gotta know T.Rex…” You say back to him, as you see how he shyly moves his head no, burying his face in his hands in shame. “Eddie!” 

“I’m sorry! I don’t…” He says back at you, biting his lower lip. 

“Oh come on… D’you know, Jeepster?” No he lets you know. “Okay, how about um…Sinister Purpose by Creedence Clearwater Revival?” No again. “Jesus… Led? You know Led Zeppelin?” 

“Yeah, I know them.” You sigh in relief. 

“Dazed and Confused?” You ask him, it being your favourite song. 

“I kinda feel like that, yeah.” The palm of your hand reaches your face in frustration. 

“It’s a song…” You whisper, as you chuckle and he laughs as he apologises. “My favourite actually.” 

“Then I’m sure it’s a good one.” 

“That’s not enough!” You let him know, flustered in all kinds of ways. “D’you know what, I’ll make you a tape, so you can actually know them, and maybe you’ll like them.” You say as you get lost in him for a second too long. 

“Okay then, but, you’ll listen to it with me.” 

“Okay, sure.” 

“Grate, pick you up tomorrow when you close.” He says as he leaves with the new Iron Maiden tape under his hand. 

And it suddenly dawns on you, that did sound like a date. 

-

Finally, the last lady left the store. 

And the usual relief that you were used to feel when closing time came around, became a weird excitement. 

So, as a distraction or a routine, you did what you usually did once you were left to your own devices. Change the sign to closed, dial the volume up, and sing at the top of your lungs as you sweep the shop. 

You would normally have to do inventory and whatnot, but your co-worker Carla had already, she even closed the register, begging you to let her go early because she had a hot date. Of course you said yes, not wanting to tell her that you might have one too. 

Because, as usual, you were looking at Eddie’s proposition practically. 

You had gifted him a Deep Purple Patch, so he was nice to you at the party. 

You had given him a tape and he invited you to see him in The Hideout. (And bought you a beer) 

You had offered to make him a tape with your favourite songs and he said he wanted you there when he heard them. 

So technically, he was just being nice. 

But then again, people that are just friends don’t really do things he did. 

Steve and you were just friends, and he never drank from your cup. Eddie did. 

Robin and you were just friends, and she had never blushed when you complimented her. Eddie did. 

Steve and you were just friends, and he never made you blush so much your face became like a tomato. Eddie did. 

You grew frustrated of making stupid lists in your head, so you really tried to focus on what you were actually doing, to little to no use. 

So you focused on the lyrics, mumbling along them, screaming the occasional phrase that you enjoyed, dancing around and using the broom as if it were your personal microphone stand. 

So when you heard a little laugh, you jumped, almost falling to the ground. Broom touching it. 

Eddie had sneaked in, and had surely enjoyed the little show you had going on, dancing around not really caring, and he laid there, standing close to the entrance door smiling at you. 

“Sorry!” He said, with an apologetic gesture. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s alright! I was just um…” 

“Dancing” He finishes, resting his weight on a shelf, arms crossed in his chest, looking you up and down as you squad down to retrieve the fallen object. You nod with your cheeks pink, not really knowing what to say next, a comfortable silence, broken by his voice once again. “You need help?” 

“Oh, um.. no don’t worry, it’s just this corner I’ve got left.” You say to him, really trying not to get distracted by the way his arms look, tensed up, with his veins showing as his sleeves got caught up in his upper forearms. “I do have to go backdoor and grab my coat but it’s a second.” You say, as you smile wilde at him. He nods as he starts walking to the counter. 

“I got it.” He says. Before you can tell him not to bother, he’s already in the back rummaging through as you hear him humming to himself.

You try to finish your work before he gets out, and for whatever reason, maybe he’s distracted by the amount of unreleased material you guard, or maybe in a more mundane manner, he is just truly admiring your jacket, and picturing you wearing as he has seen multiple times from afar, he does just that, finding you in the back of the counter, turning the computer off and turning the stereo off, making sure you were missing nothing. 

His hands travel to your waist, squeezing it softly, his cold hands in contact with your warm skin, you feel the tingle that the goosebumps leave your skin, electricity flying between both of you.

You turn around surprised, almost tripping over him in a flustered reaction, you let out a soft moan that escapes your soft lips. He smirks as he sees you, close to his body, and your chest agitated, in contrast to his calm demeanor. 

“Your jacket” He whispers, lips to your ear as you turn to look at him, before you’re locking eyes to one another. 

“Th-thanks.” You manage to say, not knowing how to ask, being this close to him. 

-

If you were being honest, you had pictured his home a million times, each of it different to the last one, but you would have never guessed just how perfect it was for him. 

A small trailer, fit with the strangest things that suited him. 

A collection of mugs lives in the walls of the entrance, decorating the yellow walls, T.V turned off. 

You were focused on the, each one different to the next, they didn’t seem to be in any particular order, but in an organized chaos that fitted him in an incredible manner. 

“Those are Wayne’s mugs.” He says, as he watches you with a smirk in his face, as you admire them. 

“They’re fun. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many mugs together.” He laughs as he looks at you once again, his sight lost in your figure and the way your body moves, standing finally in his living room. 

You fidget with the tape as you look around, not sure where to sit or where to go, your body relaxes as you see him come closer to you, beer in hand offering it to you. 

You nod as you take it, happy for the drink, excited for the company. 

“If you wanna, I can bring the stereo here, I usually keep it in my room ‘cus Wayne finds it annoying but…” He shakes his head as he’s rumbling, eyes moving back, from the floor to you. “Whatever you find more comfortable I don’t wanna uh…” You smile back at him, relating to his rumbling. 

You find that he’s not as intimidating as he shows to the world, you see his soft side, not really wanting to really push you into anything that would make you feel slightly uncomfortable or awkward or whatever that is the contrary of safe. 

So you nod, as you lock eyes. 

“I’m sure it's heavy, we can just go there, door open…” You say, letting him know your boundary for tonight. 

He guides you to his room, an organized mess lies before you. A big hand-sprayed Corroded Coffin banner hanging from one wall, multiple posters, some you recognized from your own walls at work, some laid in your own room, a desk full of various things, from ashtrays (full and almost empty in rotation), to a mechanic’s manual lay around. 

“Kinda messy, sorry…” He says, as he catches you looking around, amazed.

“No, actually… Kinda pictured you in a room like this.” You replay, playing with the tape in between your fingers, tapping it nervously. 

Looking down at it, you realize you clearly had a favourite band. Side A being filled with different bands, while the whole of Side B is just filled exclusively with Led Zeppelin.

You're getting embarrassed that he might hate it. 

“You okay?” He asks as he notices you, frozen in the spot, looking down at the mixtape. 

“Uh, yeah… Sorry… Just realized this might be shit.” You say, apologetically, raising your shoulders up. 

He moves his head no as he smiles at you, approaching as his teeth show, hair brushing his cheeks. 

“You’re overthinking.” He says, touching your fingers as he grabs the tape, spending more time than he needed to in doing so, enjoying your touch and the warmth you leave in his skin. 

The closeness doesn’t make you nervous, or produces butterflies, it actually calms you down. You feel as if he is a safe-space, not a reason for your anxiety to run through, and as you realize this, you can’t help your lips to widen your smile, eyes locked in his touch. 

“Is this one of yours?” He asks as he flips the tape, the cover was one of the photos you took on his gig. Him. Standing in all his glory. Low cut black shirt framing his torso, tattoos poking out. His eyes looking directly at the camera, directly at you. As he smiles, guitar in his hand. 

“Yeah, thought you might like it…” You see as he nods, a pink colour creeping in his cheeks. 

“You really make me look like a Rockstar…” He whispers back, as he moves to the stereo, and you clock three various sized amps in his room, so you giggle a little at the sight of them, he turns to you, tape still in his hand. “What?” He asks with glee in his face. 

“Am I gonna go deaf with…?” You ask as you point to them, he shakes his head no as he looks at them, chuckling as he does so. 

“Ah, no… No. They’re ah, one’s for the gigs, the big one is. The middle one has something that’s broken inside but it makes this cool reverb effect so we sometimes use it when we’re messing around, y’know.” He begins to explain, excitedly as he points and walks over to each one of them, smiling brightly at you. “And this little boy is the one that I actually use for the stereo. I mean it's smaller but it sounds amazing…” He says as he slaps it with a familiarity of having done this a thousand times. Maybe when it doesn’t work that well you think. 

So you nod, as you take a sip of the beer, sitting down in his bed, comfortable sheets to your touch. 

Sinister Purpose filled the room. 

The bass line that you adored made you move your head up and down at a very surprised yet attentive Eddie. You could see how his brain was centered in the lyrics as his hand tapped along his tight, mimicking what accords were  being used. 

And you did what you could never help yourself to stop. You whispered the words, coming in and out of song, enjoying it, maybe a little too much. 

“Sinister Purpose…Knocking at your door… Come and take my hand…” You continued as it was finishing. Enjoying the final riff, relaxing into his bed, taking another sip. He walked right where you were. Sitting next to you, clinging the bottles before he sips his own. 

“Not my usual, but it's a fun one.” He says, as you smile at him, nodding to his words. 

“I know but shuush, T.Rex’s coming!” You say excitedly. Tapping your hands to the rhythm

Jeepster was now playing, and you used your beer bottle as if it were a mic, fooling around making him laugh, once he learned the chorus, he would match your words, messing around with you. Swinging both of your heads, laughter filling the room. 

He didn’t know the first part of the verse, so he would shut up, looking, or in a better match of words, adoring you as you delight him. 

“The wild winds blow… upon your frozen cheeks… The way you flip your hip… it always makes me weak!” You start, and you see him smiling, as he mumbles the next lyrics, not really following along with the rhythm, even if your ring is marking it against the glass bottle. 

“‘Cos you’re my baby… ‘cos you’re my love… Oh girl I’m just a jeepster for your love.” Laughter and giggles coming from both of you, truly enjoying the moment, teasing one another, really meaning what you were singing even if the other was obvious to it. 

As the song was drawing to a finish, he started to give you his review.

“It’s a really dovey-lovey song, isn’t it?” He said, with his eyebrows raised, locking his eyes on you, hand resting in your lap. 

“Well, yeah. But it’s catchy. You were singing it!” You contradict his words by nudging him in his chest. As you do so you realize how truly close he is. His thigh was almost touching yours, yet his hand rested in it, electricity escaping from it. Your chests were in each others direction, eyes locked, undivided attention and, why not say it, adoration, clear for one another. “Besides, I am like that…” 

Your eyes darting away from him, looking down at your beer. Nervousness of having him close, or maybe to open up, you decide to take another big mouthful of it. 

“What do you mean-” You interrupt him. 

“Oh, I think you’ll really like this one!” You say excited. 

Children of the Revolution starts slowly. 

And you see him tapping along on your thigh, as he's enamoured by the atmosphere that the bass and guitar create. His eyes locked on the amp. 

“That…” He whispers as Marc Bolan’s voice fills the room. “Is awesome.” He finishes as he looks back at you. 

“Yeah, kinda reminded me of you, y’know…” You whisper as you play with the paper tag of the bottle, sowly peeling it off. “They won’t fool you, children of the revolution…” you smile as you so slightly twist the lyrics to fit him, and he shyly smiles in return, his teeth showing. A soft giggle escaping his lips, his body relaxing more, touching yours now. 

“You…” He doesn’t find the right words for everything he would like to say, so he resigns with letting his thumb stroke your thigh in a repetitive pattern. 

It’s not only goosebumps, or warmth or electricity this time. But a sense that his hands belong in your body that fills you up. 

No words needed, you are aware that you both feel the same way. 

The Chain starts playing softly, and you see him smiling now. 

“Well, that one reminds me of you…” He says, looking at your eyes, though his flicker to your lips for just a moment. 

“They hated each other when they wrote it.” You replay, absentmindedly, whispering. 

“Well, I could never hate you…” He whispers back. His hand stopping the repetitive stroking pattern, frozen in place, fear in his eyes that you could ever think that. 

“Good…” You say, placing a lock of hair away from his face, touching it ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t-” He cuts you off. 

“I know.” He finishes, as he guides your body to his chest. A warm embrace shared between the both of you, your heart beating louder and faster in anticipation to everything you wanna say and do to him, but you are trapped under his weight. Enjoying the way he holds you, just as nervous as you are, you feel he is. A private moment, an intimate one at that. 

The tape clicks. Pulling you both away from the moment. Demanding a turn to its other side, so he breaks the hug, standing up as he readjusts his pants, your eyes following his hand and his movement. Staring at him, all of him. 

Finally, your favorite song starts filling the room, and as Dazed And Confused starts, you see him smiling. 

The suggestive bass line moves him to extend his hand to you, and you naturally accept it. 

Robert Plant truly feels like he’s whispering in both of your ears, as you begin to slow dance. 

“Dazed and confused for so long it's not true…Wanted a woman, never bargained for you” 

You feel his hands traveling to your lower back, holding you closer than ever before, smiling as he does so. Yours lost in the back of his neck, playing with his curly wilde hair. 

“Can I ask you something?” He whispers into your ear, his voice shaking as he does so. 

“Yeah.” 

“What do you do when you meet someone you like?” 

“Tryin' to love you, baby, but you go on hurtin' so…Soul of a woman was created below”

“Well, I talk, and I drink, and I make them mixtapes and free music and hope they’ll eventually like me back…” You whisper to him, moving your head away from his chest so you can look at him in his eyes, a declaration. You bite your lower lip in nervousness. “What do you do?” 

“I wanna love you baby, but you do me so bad…The worst little woman I once ever had, I've got to quit you baby”

“I uhm… I go to their workplace, hope they notice me, make them laugh and invite them to my gigs and…” He can’t bring himself to finish his words. He hadn’t been looking at your eyes, but was distracted, lost in your lips. 

So when he dipped down to finally close the distance, you gladly let him, finally kissing him. Not in a rush or in desperation. But in total adoration and care.

Truly in love with one another. 

You spent the rest of the tape kissing as you danced together, in no rush, both of you knowing this was just the beginning to a long story.

-

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<3