#white gingham bedding

[carsonmell]

Bedroom Loft-Style San Francisco Mid-sized modern loft-style bedroom idea with a carpeted floor and beige walls but no fireplace

[chromedealer]

Victorian Bedroom - Bedroom Large Victorian master bedroom idea with dark wood floors, yellow walls, and no fireplace

[dominipino]

Bedroom in Miami

Inspiration for a large coastal master medium tone wood floor and brown floor bedroom remodel with white walls and no fireplace

[birdcageromance]

Bedroom in Miami

[on-leatheredwings]

Dirty Laundry (18+)

Yandere! Dick Grayson x (Fem) Reader

> romantic, 18+ > Request: I think Dick would be a major creep and your rules didn't say anything about no nsft, so can I ask for a fic with this scenario: Dick stealing reader's underwear and using the dirty ones to get off while cumming into the clean ones. And putting the "clean" ones back into her dresser hoping she doesn't notice the stains and wears them? Thanks! > a/n: …………………………………… Ohhhh, so you’re crazy. Meaning, you’re just like me . thanks for the dick request i want to write him better/more ;u; had fun writing this! > tw: someone cumming in your panties without your consent or knowledge, so sexual assault. As well as yandere-typical thoughts and behaviors. > Word count: 1847 (Ugh this was supposed to be like 3 paragraphs max but i’m me.)

Dick’s your best friend. 

… You guess.

He was new to Blüdhaven, and you two just seemed to keep bumping into each other in the rare times you left your apartment. Might as well get to know the guy. You didn’t have much choice in the matter, once he attached to you. And that was okay, because you liked him back and, frankly, were in quite desperate need for friends. The man currently lounges on your bed, sifting through a magazine while you’re mixing audio for this indie rock cover band that’s commissioned you. That’s your side hustle and passion, when you’re not being a work-from-home researcher for S.T.A.R. Labs. 

You’re an hour into your work and Dick Grayson is lounging on his spot on your bed, because he has claimed a spot at this point. All is well with the world. Then, your stomach lets out a groan, and so do you.

A pair of eyes, all ocean blue and twinkling, slide over to you without a second’s hesitation. You meet them, unblinking and unperturbed. Does he know he’s kind of a freak? Being all light-eyed and adoring?

You stand up without fanfare, removing your headphones from your ears and letting them sit around the column of your neck.

“I’m going to get food from the place next door.”

You yawn and walk away from your desk. That usually was much harder for you, but Grayson’s presence in your life had made it more of a priority for you to care for yourself. “Don’t touch anything,” you say, plainly and without venom. Without another word, you’re gone, and Dick launches up from his seat once he hears the front door to your flat close.

He told himself he was going to do this today. He told himself, and he is a man of his word.

He opens the bottom drawer of your dresser, where he knows you keep your clean pairs of underwear. Then he trespasses into your closet, where he knows you keep your laundry basket.

Dick knows where a lot of things are in your apartment, and he has made it his job to know every inch of your bedroom specifically. When you leave the room, like times like this, he enjoys going around and familiarizing himself with everything. And he’s planted cameras, of course. He does leave your en-suite restroom alone, an act he pats himself on the back for. You deserved your privacy, after all. To his disappointment, you do tend to masturbate exclusively in the shower, and he must tide himself over with the audio his cameras pick up, rather than visuals.

After a moment’s hesitation, Dick buries his hands into your laundry basket. These were the things… you wore. His eyes twinkle as he smiles. Still, he had no time to waste. While often busy, the Chinese place you were at was also known for its fast service. Dick grabs the first pair of panties he sees: blue lace-trim, white in color, with blue gingham. You’re so cute. 

He sits in your closet, back to your hamper, slides off the jeans that look really good on him which he hopes you’ve noticed. All of these actions are done a little clumsier than normal because his pulse roars in his ears.

He lets his head fall backward, and he begins pumping his cock with your panties in that same hand. He thinks of your face, your body, your hands. He really likes your hands, so adept and amble, always flying across a keyboard or strumming a guitar. He thinks about the honest things you say, truthful but usually with tact. He thinks about your eyes crinkling when he’s being a show-off, and your pretty lips that you’re usually wetting with your tongue rather than finally just getting lip balm. 

At this point, Dick is a wreck, eyes glazed over and only half-open. His eyelashes flutter as he struggles to keep them open. He goes slack-jawed, pink lips only a little swollen from his biting down on them. He’s about to finish, he knows he is. It’s building in him like the birth of a tidal wave. Pre-cum and his sweat have soiled your gingham pair, and he looks at the very plain pair of navy blue boyshorts in his free hand, clenched into a fist. He finds himself blushing. Your underwear is so… you, and it’s hilarious that holding them in his hand is what is flustering him so much. Considering what he’s doing.

Dick whimpers, a sound that’s both embarrassing and utterly liberating. Pleasure pulses in between his legs, his back shoots into an arch, his balls hike up to the base of his cock. He cums with a raspy cry, right onto the crotch of your boyshorts. He had initially planned to just finish anywhere on the fabric, but at the last second decided to cum where your cunt would touch. He’s kind of romantic like that. (He’s also kind of a pervert, and he knows that.)

He pants in the afterglow of his orgasm, cheeks painted over with rosy pink. He tosses your white pair back into its home, the laundry basket.

His calloused fingers reach up for the corner of his mouth, which had been agape this whole while. 

… Was he drooling? 

Dick robotically proceeds to rub his semen into your underwear until it's just a dark stain. He pulls his dark jeans from the pool of black denim they formed at his ankles, he runs his fingers through his hair at a job well done. He returns your boyshorts to your dresser, neatly folding them like all the rest. And finally, he wipes his mouth. He returns to your bed, and it’s like nothing has happened since you left.

Dick Grayson – Gotham pretty boy, badass superhero – should probably cringe; in any other context, isn’t that so lame…? But considering it was you, honestly, what could he have expected…

You come back into your bedroom, a bag of takeout swinging from your hands. His eyes don’t leave you for an instant.

… You simply have that effect on him. 

You stomp through his room until you’re right in front of him, where he pretends to be scrolling on his phone. Your arms are akimbo as you stare down at him, blocking your room’s overhead light with your skull and casting your shadow over him. He looks up and smiles cheekily.

“Alright, Dickard.” Dick’s lips quirk. “Get out. I’m going to shower and change.” Sniffing yourself on the way back, you decided it was high time you did. 

Dick’s brain goes a mile a minute. Shower. Change. Underwear? His heart skitters but he doesn’t show it. 

“Aw, don’t let me stop you. Feel free,” he teasingly sings.

Your eye twitches and you take it upon yourself to physically move him. Not that you could if he chose to actually resist. You know that he must be strong, stronger than ‘doing acrobatics as a hobby’ must make someone. You’ve caught a peek at his abdomen and biceps now and then. Guy is ripped. 

“Go eat,” you order, throwing the takeout into his hand. “I got enough for the both of us.” Why, Dick could twirl his hair and kick his feet right now – despite a prickly exterior, you really were a sweetheart, weren’t you? He refuses to have you pay for him though. He will definitely be returning the favor thricefold.

You successfully shoo the six feet tall model out of your room. 

Once he’s out, you take your shower, standing for five minutes in the spray until it grows warm. You think with amusement at the idea of movies and TV making women showering such a sexy, erotic scene. Bitch, you are in here scrubbing pots and pans. 

After the job’s done, your feet land on your worn shower mat from college, and pad towards your bedroom once more. You catch a towel on your way there, belatedly remembering that Dick Grayson may still be loitering in your bedroom, and you weren’t too keen on the idea of him seeing your private bits. Warily shifting eyes from behind the door, you see no one’s around.

Knock knock. 

“Are you done?”

Dick’s voice from the hallway makes you panic, fearful that he may burst in before you’re ready and presentable. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt a woman while she’s getting ready in her boudoir!“ you yell, hoping some rich person’s instinct suddenly clicks in him. You thought rich men were supposed to be gentlemanly. Really, ever since meeting Dick, who is son to the richest man in the state, you’ve learned rich people all must be whiny, clingy, braggers, show-offs, and sometimes, just plain brats. In your hurry, you swipe a panty from your drawer and slip it on past your thighs. Body still damp from the shower, you don’t notice anything. 

The rest of your clothes follow, and you choose to sit back down in your desk chair. You turn back to your double monitor set up, ready to become a screen zombie once more when you remember someone’s waiting for you.

Without turning around, you holler, “Come in.” 

Without a moment’s pause, Dick reenters, takeout plated for the both of you in each hand. He places one smoothly in front of you with butler-like precision. 

“Your meal, madam,” Dick says in a Parisian accent, and you do smile in amusement. His eyes dilate, but you don’t notice.

“Thank you, my fine sir,” you return, a little embarrassed, accent weak, but willing to keep up the bit.

Dick knows not to disturb you too much while you work, so he wanders away as you slip your headphones over your ears once more. But before returning to His Spot on the bed, he quietly treads to your dresser. He sneaks a glance to make sure you’re still occupied. And you are, that blue wash of light painting your skin. 

He pulls out the drawer, and– hhhhh.

He heaves with breath involuntarily, although it’s nearly imperceptible. You do make him slip more than he likes, but he’s experienced. He glances once more to make sure you didn’t hear that, and of course you didn’t. You’re still fiddling in Ableton Live.

He shuts the drawer and stalks to His Spot on the bed, and anyone who knows Dick Grayson would see that he is tense. He is stiff.

And how could he not be? You’re wearing the underwear he had cum on. Did you notice? Is this your way of coming onto him? No, you’re too forward to play games… Something he finds both refreshing and a shame, because he loves games. You simply mustn't have noticed. Regardless, the knowledge fills him with such ecstasy and arousal… and longing. 

He eyes you discreetly as his skin reddens. He tries to act natural by eating steaming orange chicken, plucking it from his plate with a chopstick. One day, he’ll have you, in body and soul. 

Until then, he can entertain himself with this game, however one-sided.

[feyhunter78]

Oooh how about nerd!miguel who gets so nervous when you come to his dorm for the first time? (maybe you forgot something and went there to pick it up) like he’d be eyeing you sitting on his bed but trying not to make it obvious ☺️

I definitely cannnn, I made this a bit more spicy than maybe you intended, and I had it be the second time y/n is at Miguel's apartment for plot reasons, but I hope you like it anyways!!!!

Door Frames and Doorways

Artist cred: twitter jammunin

Miguel’s apartment complex is nice, like really nice. Four gates, elevators, 24-hour security, and you’re pretty sure you saw at least six Ferraris in the parking garage.

You punch in the code and wait until the gate opens, your phone in one hand while you walk, scanning the garage for the elevators. Once inside, you press the button for Miguel’s floor, and lean against the mirrored walls, watching the numbers climb. It’s fancy, more like a hotel elevator than an apartment. Finally, the doors ding and slide open, you step out onto plush carpet, the hall leading to his door is pristine, artwork—hotel style artwork—on the walls, everyone’s doors are decorated with name plates and their apartment number.

O’Hara 2099, Miguel’s nameplate reads, and you knock quietly. It is getting late, and you’d hate to disturb any of the other residents, but you really need your planner.

You wait a second, then knock again, nothing. You go to text Miguel, then the door swings open.

You’re greeted by Gabriel clad in the most typical college boy pajamas you’ve ever seen, red gingham pants and a white muscle shirt, his smile wide, and his eyebrows wriggling cartoonishly. “Well y/n, fancy seeing you here.”

“Hey Gabriel, I left my planner here yesterday, Miguel said I could come by and grab it?” You ask, looking past him for Miguel.

It’s not that you don’t like Gabriel, he’s friendly, sociable, funny, popular but not a dick, and he’s Miguel’s brother so he shares similar features, so he’s definitely not ugly. But he smells like weed, and as much as a small part of you wants to ask if you can take a hit—school has been a bitch, you need a break—you don’t know him like that. Plus, it’s late, and you still have to drive back to your own apartment.

The living room is empty behind him, the TV on, casting dim colors across the floor, the balcony doors open letting in the cool night air, and most likely the smell of weed out.

He opens the door wider, “of course, come in. Miguel’s in his room, did you text him?”

“No, I was going to, but then you opened the door, so.” You follow him in, and he shuts the door behind you. “I was already home when I realized I left it, I’m sorry to barge in on you guys’ night like this.”

“Don’t even worry about it.” He walks into the living room, where you can see a blunt resting in a novelty ashtray. You’re not totally sure, but it looks like a spider. “You want a hit?” He offers you the blunt, that tangy, almost sweet smell hits your nose, and you feel like a nicotine addict feigning for a cigarette, the way you take a half step forward, hand outstretched.

“I shouldn’t…” You tell yourself, and Gabriel, but really yourself.

Gabriel shrugs, “suit yourself. Yo Miguelito, y/n’s here.” He calls out, flopping onto the expensive looking leather couch and taking a deep inhale, holding it, then blowing the smoke out towards the open balcony doors.

There’s a heavy thud, then the jiggle of a door handle, and Miguel’s door bursts open. He looks…out of breath? His hair is tousled, his t-shirt half on, hem riding up, exposing his toned abdomen, his sweatpants sitting low on his hips. “Shit, y/n, I didn’t see your text.”

“She didn’t text you; I heard her knocking.” Gabriel says through a cloud of smoke.

“Well—um—your planner is in here, on my desk, I can grab it for you?” Miguel stutters out, running a hand through his hair, his glasses askew.

“I can get it myself, it’s no big deal.” You reassure him, slipping through the space between him and the door frame.

You’ve been in Miguel’s room before, literally yesterday, but you’re still amazed at how clean it is. His bed set against the far wall, framed photos of his family, awards, and scholarships up on the other. His bathroom door is ajar, and his desk light is off, your planner sitting in the very center of the huge desk with its multiple monitors.

There’s a candle lit, sitting atop his wardrobe, the scent of evergreen drifting through the room, and you detect a more musky undertone, but don’t let the thought linger.

You cross the wide expanse of plush carpet and grab your planner, holding it to your chest. “Thank you so much for finding it, I was freaking out thinking I lost it somewhere on campus.”

He nods his head, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the door frame. “It’s no problem, I know you live and die by that thing.”

“Not all of us can keep a perfect schedule in our heads, Miguel.” You tease, sweeping your eyes around his room.

There’s a decorative pillow on the floor, beside his bed, and without thinking you bend over and grab it, before getting onto his bed and crawling forward placing it back in its rightful place.

Miguel sucks in a sharp breath, and you turn to look at him. His pupils are dilated, his face is flushed, and he keeps shifting his weight, unable to meet your eyes.

“You okay?” You ask, getting off his bed and placing a hand against his forehead.

“Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He says, taking a quick step back and bumping into the wall.

You laugh, finally connecting the dots. “Miguel, are you high?”

He blinks at you, then nods slowly. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I don’t do it often, Gabri just brought it out, and I only started because my ex wanted me to, but now I only smoke with Gabri I sw—”

Squeezing his shoulder playfully, you look up at him, still laughing a bit. “Miguel, it’s cool, I smoke sometimes, with my sister Kenzie, I’m not judging you.” You explain, giving him a teasing smile, your hand instinctively sliding down to rest above his heart as your laughter dies down. “Look at you, Mr. Genetics Genius partaking of the devil’s lettuce on the weekend, it’s kinda hot.”

Did you really just say that? Why did you say that? What the fuck y/n?? Are you high???

“R-Really?” Miguel asks, his lips, his stupidly plush and perfect lips, parted in surprise.

“Yeah, it’s like a thing, the good boy with a secret dark side. Not that I’d call smoking weed a dark side, but still. I’m a little bummed, though, looks like someone else corrupted my good boy before I could.” You say, a faux pout on your lips.

You’re so glad Miguel can’t hear your heartbeat because you’re pretty sure it’s trying to bust out of your chest.

“Dígalo de nuevo.” Trsl: Say it again.

You tilt your head at him. “What?”

“Say it again, please.” He whispers, his pupil blown wide, his hands hovering over your hips.

“Say what? That I’m bummed someone else corrupted you?” You’re starting to feel self-conscious, doubt trickling in, but you try to push it to the side and loop your arms around Miguel’s neck, fingers threading in his thick locks. “That I’m upset someone else got to my good boy first?”

Miguel lets out a sound akin to a whimper, and heat rushes through you. You’re suddenly aware of just how close to him you are. You’ve practically got him pinned to the wall, and he looks so good, you just want to—

His hands clamp down on your hips, dragging you forward. “Soy tuyo y/n, tu buen chico, tuyo, tuyo, tuyo." Trsl: I’m yours y/n, your good boy, yours, yours, yours.

His words and lips ghost over your own, and you dig your fingers into his shirt, eyes fluttering shut.

“Tuyo?” You ask, head spinning, the scent of Miguel overwhelming your senses, driving every rational thought from your brain.

“Sí, eres mío, dulzura.” He breathes, his voice low, vibrating in your bones, intertwining with your synapses, and filling you with liquid heat. Trsl: Yes, you’re mine, sweetheart, sweetness, darling, etc.

You’re going to do it, you can’t wait any longer, the words are brimming at your lips, waiting to spill over. “Miguel, please, kiss m—”

“Yo, you find that planner or do you guys need help looking?” Gabriel’s voice cuts through the tension, and you all but fling yourself back.

“No—no, we found it, we’re good, thanks.” You call back, too embarrassed to even spare Miguel a glance as you rush out of his apartment, planner pressed to your chest to hide your rapid breathing.

It’s not until you’re halfway home, you realize you didn’t smell any weed on Miguel, but you definitely saw the lotion bottle that had been kicked under his bed.

Miguel’s version here👀👀

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Strawberries and Cream

I’m doing so good with this

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: 6.4k

Masterlist

🔪remember to reblog🔪

Notes: Im currently writing this while finishing chapter one lmao. No because if you ever see a “/“ in my work you better tell me RIGHT NEYOW because I don’t write things in order I skip whole scenes and then go back to that slash and write in what happens until it gets to the scene I wrote and if that’s there that means it’s about to get CONFUSING and I just forgot to write it. P.S I love it but I’m so sick of reading this chapter 🤣🤣🤣

Episode 2: Zoo Daze

Eddie takes his time shaving, his hands are shaking so badly he’s afraid he’s gonna slice his throat or something. Buck is sitting on his bed, looking over outfit options.

“So like… this is just a friend thing?” He asks Eddie as he makes a face at the green T-shirt, tossing it aside. He grabs the navy blue shirt and lays it over the jeans then takes a white sling bag from the closet. He pulls out his phone, clicking a few buttons before taking a picture.

“Yeah, just a friend thing” Eddie calls out from the bathroom “I just…I don’t wanna move too fast for her”

“Did you already imagine the dog?” Buck teases as he settles on Eddie’s beat-up Chuck Taylor’s, Eddie calls them “vintage” Buck calls him cheap.

“Leave Captain Barkley out of this, what did he ever do to you” Eddie walks out of the bathroom, wiping his face with a towel.

“Does she get to redecorate the house too? Because I know my cousin, you’re gonna be buried in stuffed animals”

“If that’s what she wants” Eddie tosses the towel down and looks over Buck's choices, shrugging as he starts getting dressed. “Trust me, I already know our styles are gonna fit. And even if they don’t we’ll just have a unique style together y’know? I’m easygoing, okay, you know that.”

Buck tosses him his cologne and Eddie sprays it on, putting on the teeniest, tiniest bit extra just so it’ll cling to you too. He fixes his hair one last time in the mirror and turns to Buck, his arms open.

“How do I look?” He does a spin, before crossing his arms over his chest. Buck studies him, narrowing his eyes before he gets up and goes through Eddie’s dresser, he grabs a nicer-looking watch and hands it to him

“This is gonna be weird” He stands against Eddie, leaning into his neck and inhaling slowly. His hands trail up his sides and he puts his hands on his chest. He smirks as his eyes roll back and he pulls away.

“Okay cool, you didn’t put too much on” He gives him a double thumbs up and Eddie rolls his eyes, chuckling.

“Pervert, you know you just wanted to feel me up”

“Are you gonna blame me?!” Buck throws his hands in the air in defense “And I swear I was making sure you didn’t put on too much cologne okay? And that’s probably the way Y/N would feel you up if you guys kiss so I gotta make sure your shirt is soft enough bro I’m looking out for you okay”

“Mhm I bet you are”

It’s cute how things are almost the same at Maddie’s house. She’s sitting on her bed, looking through all the clothes you brought over, phone in hand. You’re in the bathroom doing your hair, braiding it back.

“So it’s just a friend thing right?” She asks as she picks up a pink dress, tossing it aside.

“Yeah, that’s what we agreed on,” You say, coming out and taking off your robe, you toss it on the bed and Maddie hands you a blue and white gingham dress, with spaghetti straps and a tie in front. It’s short and playful, but still extremely cute

“Oh, and these!” She gets up, goes to her closet, and pulls out a pair of matching light blue Chuck Taylor’s “Chim got them for me before the pregnancy, they don’t exactly fit anymore” she chuckles as she tosses them on the floor in front of you

“You’re sure this isn’t too dressy?” You sound a bit worried as she ties the little bow in front and smiles at you

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s not too dressy. You look really good” She turns you around and grabs a white bow from the bed, putting it in your hair. She brushes off your shoulders and nods approvingly as she pushes you towards the mirror

“See? You look amazing! He’s gonna go crazy over you”

“We’re just friends Mads” You roll your eyes playfully “He’s not gonna go crazy over me”

“Hey, Eddie can appreciate beauty when he sees it, alright.” She smirks, Chim walks in, a smoothie in his hand.

“Oh heyyy, lookin' good Y/N I see what you’re doing there”

You giggle and Maddie pats your butt “See! You’re gonna be just fine, girly!”

Maddie helps you put on makeup, just a light, natural, look. She hands you the tube of strawberry lipgloss and you put it on, blowing a little kiss towards Chim who wolf whistles at you

“Okay. Maybe he’ll go a tiny bit crazy” You giggle as you spray your perfume over yourself. “He should be here soon, he said he’d be here at 10… is he normally on time?” You pack up your white mini backpack, stuffing a few snacks in there too.

“Usually yeah,” Chim says, swinging his feet as he sits on the bed. “Especially on dates”

“Does he date often?” You apply a little glitter to your collarbones just for funsies.

“No, not…for a while. But that’s kinda his story to tell. You’re the first in a while”

“I’m not the first” Your cheeks flush “It’s just two friends hanging out okay? And… that’s sort of good to know, at least I know what topic to avoid. Not that I’m trying to start a conversation about a relationship.”

Maddie rolls her eyes but allows it. It’s wildly clear to everyone you’re both smitten… hopefully, this is a good little push.

“Anyway” Maddie interrupts, the doorbell rings, there’s a weird commotion and then the front door slams.

“It’s me! It’s actually us, I asked for a ride” Buck says as he comes jogging into the bedroom. He stops when he sees you, absolutely melting. He clasps his hands together

“Awwwww oh my god. You look like a doll!!!” He comes over and hugs you, squeezing you. “Our baby is growing up!!!” He wipes a fake tear and you pat his back gingerly

“Thanks, Dad.” You snicker and Maddie pushes Buck away, threatening to punch him if he ruins your makeup.

“Hey isn’t Eddie outside” Chim points, getting up to get the door

“Oh my god, I totally forgot about that,” Buck says, his hands on his hips. “Wait- Wait Chim you gotta be cool you gotta be a dad! This is great practice!”

“Yeah. Yeah okay, a dad!” He grabs his smoothie cup and straightens out his shirt before smoothing his hair back.

“Oh my god. Let Eddie in!!!” Maddie yells at them and they both scramble out of the bedroom.

Maddie walks in front of you as you come out of the bedroom, Eddie hugs her and kisses her on the cheek before seeing you.

“Hey Y/N, you ready to…-“ he short circuits for a second, just staring at you. Buck shakes Chim and they hold onto each other.

He’s not even really being dramatic, god how could he be? If this is you for a “friend” date what the hell would you look like on a real date? He can practically see little puppy Captain Barkley Diaz now.

“Am I ready to?…-“ you smile up at him, batting your eyelashes teasingly. Earth isn’t even possible right now. He comes as close as Jupiter is as he looks down at you. You’re even matching, he’s not sure if it was on purpose or not but it’s cute it’s literally so damn cute.

“Um- uh. The… zoo are you ready to go to the zoo” He asks calmly, almost monotonously like he’d been practicing it on the way over.

“I’m ready!” You tell him excitedly, taking his hand and yanking on it.

“Let’s jet!”

Maddie and the boys wave you both off as you walk out, he opens the door for you, taking your hand and helping you up into the car. It’s Buck’s jeep, he practically demanded the two of you take it and said he cleaned it just for this occasion.

Eddie gets in, making sure you’re buckled in before turning on the jeep “You can play whatever you want”

You fiddle around with your phone for a second, hooking it up to the aux, and start scrolling through your playlists

“Okay this is just intimidating,” You say as you put on a random playlist

“Oh come on, you don’t want to show me who you are through music?” He smirks as he starts driving

“What if you think my music is trash?”

“I’m not gonna think your music is trash” he reassures you by turning up the volume.

It’s a fun mix of everything you like, you catch him mumbling along to “Oops…I did it again” he fully denies that one, but he does however proudly sing backups to “Wannabe and Too Much” by the Spice Girls. You’re both just messing around and having a good time… but of course, he can sing. His voice gives you chills and whilst you’re not so bad yourself it’s just a lot to handle.

“Sporty Spice carried those vocals,” Eddie says as he opens the car door for you, helping you out

“Buck says the same thing” You snort as you walk towards the entrance.

You guys stand in line together, you’re looking around the main lobby, it’s a pretty nice one. You look up at him, smiling widely

“I’m literally so excited, I hope they have elephants, I’ve always wanted to see an elephant!!”

“I’m pretty sure they do, we’ll get a map for you” Eddie takes your hand, his phone is scanned for the tickets and you head inside.

You’re like a child again, running around to each exhibit and pulling Eddie after you. He’s happy to take pictures of you with all the animals and you do the same. A woman comes over and offers to take a picture of the two of you, your cheeks flush as he hands her the phone and puts his arms around you, setting his head on your shoulder. You look at him just in time for the lady to take the picture

“Oh my god, you guys are so cute!!” She squeals, handing him back his phone

“Thank you” He smirks haughtily at you and you give his chest a whack.

“People are gonna think we’re together”

“Is that so bad?”

It’s not so bad, not really. You roll your eyes and look down at the map, your mouth drops open and you practically shove it in his face

“Look!!! They do have elephants!” You squeal as you grab his hand, and yank him with you. He stumbles after you, tripping over his own feet. It doesn’t even bother him in the least, watching you so excited and happy makes him feel giddy. Especially knowing he’s the one who brought you here.

You stop in front of the elephants, your head tilting up to stare at them

“Oh my god…” you say softly, staring at the gigantic animal in front of you. Your eyes are wide and sparkly… Eddie takes a picture of you, one he’ll keep to himself. You look euphoric and he knows he’s going to be hugging his phone to his chest and kicking his feet whenever he sees it again.

He wishes he could freeze this moment in time for you, you look over at him and his heart skips a beat at the smile on your face

“Isn’t it cool?” You giggle and he nods, a bit dumbly

“Uh-huh”

The butterflies around him don’t compare to the ones raging in his stomach, throwing an all-out rave.

You both sit in front of the elephants for a while, he eventually puts his arms around you and you lean into him, just watching them mess around in their habitat

“You wanna stay here all day? Or would you rather check out more animals”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing some Tigers”

You and Eddie end up on The Bridge, it’s a large structure high over the outdoor area for big cats. You find a place near a pair of binoculars and look down over the edge. You read from the information panel in front of you, learning all about Sean and Rhonda the tigers that live there.

Eddie is busy listening to you and looking through the binoculars when he gets eyes on Sean

“Huh… I wonder why he’s pacing like that. Been doing that for a while” Eddie aims the little binoculars at him again before stepping aside and giving you a chance to look through them at the tiger. He seems to be almost studying something. You look around for a bit, looking through the trees.

“Hey…Eddie?” You point towards a particularly odd-looking branch. “That- that kind of looks really easy for him to jump onto don’t you think?”

Eddie looks where you’re pointing, and he reaches out for your hand “Yeah it kind of freaking do-“

All hell breaks loose before he can even finish his sentence. The tiger takes a running start and jumps onto the tree, scaling it easily and heading straight for that branch. He’s out of his enclosure within 20 seconds. The bridge shakes as he lands.

You’re knocked over almost immediately as people start running and screaming, pushing each other out of the way to get away. The tiger roars before racing off in the opposite direction.

“Eddie?!”You scream for him. You’re on the ground, trying to push yourself up when you feel strong hands yank you up by your waist and you get thrown over someone’s shoulder.

You’re struggling a bit, before Eddie sets you down and pulls you with him, running to a little alcove outside the tiger exhibit. He hurries along, trying the doors until one finally gives.

“In here!” Eddie finds an unlocked supply closet and shoves you in first before rushing in behind you and slamming the door shut. You collapse on your butt, propped against the wall. You’re panting harshly, your hands shaking as Eddie gets down, crawling over to you

“Hey, hey look at me, are you okay?” He puts his hands on your face, his eyes searching your body frantically. You can feel his hands shaking just as hard as yours as he feels over your face. You’re a bit scuffed up and dirty but the tiger didn’t rip you to shreds so really it seems like a win.

“I’m- y-yeah no, no I’m okay. I’m okay. I think. I-“

He yanks you against his chest, burying his face in your neck as he holds you.

“Don’t ever let go of my hand again, do you understand me?” He pants, one hand on the back of your head and the other, fingers splayed across your back, squishing you against him. “God please never let go”

It takes a while for Eddie to calm down, you’re just sitting in his lap as he holds you close, rocking you slowly. You’re not sure who’s being comforted more, you or him. You can hear both of your phones blowing up in your pockets, the fire fam has gotten wind of what happened but neither of you wants to move to answer them. He rubs your side lovingly, his head on top of yours

“You doin' okay?” He asks, a bit more level-headed this time, his voice soft and even.

“Yeah but-“ You point to your knee, it’s pretty scraped up and bloody. He frowns, as he looks it over, he should have asked sooner. It’s not too bad but it definitely needs to be taken care of. He sets you down on the floor and takes off his bag.

“Are you doing okay?” You ask and he looks up at you, a grimace on his face and you decide not to push him on it. You look around the supply closet, it’s cool and dark, and there’s a window letting in a bit of light. You’re sort of hoping the Tiger isn’t smart enough to open doors, even if in theory that would be super cool.

“You know this has got to be the coolest day of my life” You snicker as Eddie takes out the supplies from his emergency kit. He’s finally able to part with you for the time being, he’s gotta put this first. This is his job, he can do it.

“Coolest huh? Why is that?”

He’s so concentrated on what he’s doing, using his “Fireman’s” voice. He pulls the antiseptic from the bag, his movements are fluid and practiced, he doesn’t even warn you when he goes to disinfect the wound, just immediately blots it.

You hiss in pain, jerking a little and he looks up at you “Why was it so cool?” He asks again softly, rubbing your leg. It’s distracting, he didn’t want to use that particular disinfectant because he knew it would sting but it was the best he had. He doesn’t stop blotting at it, but he does blow on it as he goes.

“A whole ass Tiger escaped its enclosure! And I got to see it happen!!” You tell him, watching him carefully as he cleans you up.

“I’m gonna be so real, I nearly shit my pants. That was terrifying.”

You laugh together as he reaches back in the kit, getting a large tan bandaid.

“You know, death by tiger? Would have been literally the most metal way to go out” You say, watching his skilled hands. Is it weird to say he’s super hot when he’s being all “hero, rescue, firefighter guy?”

“I think the only way it would be cooler was if you died fighting the tiger to save a child”

Your head falls back and you cover your mouth laughing.

“I’m glad you saved me though… Thank you. I could have gotten trampled… you’re like… really strong”

“Hey it’s my job to be strong,” He says, smiling as he looks up at you. He puts the bandaid on you and then reaches back into his kit, putting a cute Hello Kitty bandaid over the large tan one. “And I’ll always save you Y/N. I promise”

The announcement comes over the speakers that the tiger has been contained and that Investigators want to talk to everyone on the bridge. Eddie knows he shouldn’t. But he sneaks the two of you out of the zoo anyway, he’ll call the zoo later and tell them what happened. It’s well- a zoo in there right now and he just needs peace, and he can tell you’re just as frazzled. He helps you into the jeep and then gets in, slamming the door shut. It’s silent, there’s no screaming, no running…no growling. Just silence.

You lean your head on his shoulder, your hand still in his, and you rub soothing circles on the back of his hand. It’s a good 20 minutes before he finally turns on the car. It kind of seems like the chaos and screaming got to him and you’re a bit worried.

“I know a really good diner if you’re hungry, best diner you’ll ever go to I promise” He finally speaks up. He sets your hand on his thigh and you squeeze it lightly, leaving it there

“Yeah okay sounds good, but if you’re lying I’m gonna spray you with the hose.”

He snorts as he pulls out of the parking lot and rolls his eyes “How are you even gonna get the hose?”

“You honestly think Buck wouldn’t give it to me? And be there right behind me as I’m spraying you down? Like Chim and Hen wouldn’t be filming it!”

“I think at least Bobby would save me!!”

You giggle and slap his thigh playfully “He’s gonna be the one controlling the water”

You plop down in the booth across from Eddie, leaning back against the plush seating. The waitress drops two menus in front of you both and promises to come back soon with water to get you started.

“Do you know what you want?” Eddie asks as he leans forward, his arms on the table, his hand cradling his chin.

“Probably that burger” you shrug, laying your head down on your arm on the table. You’re both exhausted. Now that the adrenaline has worn off it’s time for a serious nap

“Yeah, same” he agrees, laying his head down with you. He reaches over, taking your hand in his as he closes his eyes. You smile softly as he rubs circles with his thumb over it. The waitress hesitantly approaches the table setting your water down

“You two seem exhausted” She smiles as she takes out her book

“You have no idea” Eddie chuckles, sitting up. He orders for the two of you, two bacon cheeseburgers with grilled onions and two strawberry lemonades. It’s like he knows how to read your heart at this point

The waitress- Annie, writes down your orders and sticks her pen back in her book

“That’ll be out soon! Oh my god have you two heard about the tiger escaping at the zoo? It’s all over everything already”

“Oh trust me. We heard” Eddie tells her, handing her the menus while she talks about it for a little bit before walking away to put in the orders, you look up at Eddie and shake your head

“I’m 90 percent sure I’m gonna have tiger PTSD”

He snorts and intertwines your fingers together again, shaking your hand a little. “As someone who actively denies? PTSD yeah no definitely can confirm absolute tiger PTSD”

You giggle, watching your hands together before looking at him curiously “Actively denies…-?” You leave it open-ended and he nods

“Don’t wanna talk about it though. Please if that’s okay”

“No no, it’s fine” you reassure him, squeezing his hand “Just…. I’m here for you. I’m sure you probably hear that a lot. But I do mean it, Eddie. You’re not alone”

“Eh… sometimes it feels like it” He admits, staring at your hands “No one knows what I went through you know? It’s just rough I guess. I don’t know, I’ll get over it.”

You look at him, a sad smile on your face “You won’t get over it Eddie… not, not without help. But you know what, I just met you. This is kind of our first hangout. I'm not going to go down this road with you right now unless you’d like to. It’s not exactly my place”

“Hey we survived a wild tiger mauling together, I think it’s your place” he jokes with you, lightening the mood, you giggle and shake your head

“I’m glad I escaped with my arm. He really went to town on it.”

Lunch is nice, Eddie was right this is the best diner you’ve ever been to.

“Oh my god” You moan around your bite and he nods, laughing as he bites his burger. “Told you I knew what I was talking about”

“I promise to never doubt you again, you know until I completely forget this moment” You steal an onion ring and he smirks, taking one of your fries.

“Don’t worry I’ll remember it for you”

You two eat together in silence, a “companionable” silence. You’re looking out the window and he’s on his phone for a bit before slipping it back in his pocket. It’s nice to be around him…everything is always so good when it comes to him.

“What should we do after this?” You ask as you dip a fry in ketchup. He watches you for a bit before shrugging

“If you wanted, We could go out somewhere else. Or maybe we could just hang out somewhere… something laid back. I- I want to keep hanging out with you, I do. But-”

“We just got semi-attacked by a tiger and now we’re sitting here staring off into space”

“Yeahhh..” He sighs, grabbing an onion ring. He tears it in half, giving you one.

“If uh… if you’re up for it maybe we could just… go relax at my place? For a bit? It’s close to here and the couch is pretty comfy”

You grin widely, taking the half of onion ring and tossing it into your mouth

“Sounds good to me”

“Here we are, home sweet home” Eddie pulls into his driveway and shuts off the car. It’s around 4 pm but neither of you wanted the day to end and honestly, maybe you’re just still wanting to be by his side for a bit. He gets out and comes around, opening the door for you.

“Such a gentleman” You tease as you hop out, he flicks you off and shuts the door, locking it behind him. He lets you in the front door first, and you look around. It's very clean and put together, definitely a bit masculine in decoration. You slip off your shoes and go into the house

“Nice place you got here,” you tell him and he smiles, putting his hand on your lower back and guiding you over to the living room

“Thanks, Buck crashes here like… a lot. So you’ll probably find some of his stuff too if you feel like changing, or I can offer you something. Not that you’re not still looking absolutely stunning you know, just if you wanted to change. Can I get you something to drink?”

You look around the living room already spotting a pair of your cousin's shoes

“Yeah sure, thanks. And maybe I’ll change, I haven’t decided yet. You can though if you want to”

He walks away to get the drinks and you look at the pictures he has around, some of them are of the team and his friends. One of him in a military uniform with a group of people. Huh…that explains a little at least.

“So this is where I would be staying huh?” You smirk playfully as Eddie comes back into the living room, he hands you a bottle of tea and you crack it open. You turn away from the photos pretending you haven’t gotten that far.

“Yeah, I suppose it is” he chuckles. He motions with his bottle and you follow after him, he’s got a spare room, it’s a pretty decent size. “This would be your room… I mean if you wanted. I’d even give you the main if you wanted it”

You look around the room, it’s simple, bright, and airy. He says that and you whirl around “There’s no way in hell I’d take your bedroom from you! Especially if I was staying here”

He puts his hands up in defense and laughs lightly “Hey I’m an easygoing guy alright? I just want you to be comfortable- or no-. I would want you to be comfortable”

“Comfortable is this, Eddie. I wouldn’t take your bedroom away from you”

“Who knows,” he turns on his heel as he leaves the room “Maybe we can just share mine”

Your mouth drops open and you race after him “Hey! Hey, you get back here!”

Eddie refuses to acknowledge anything you say on the topic of what he just said, acting innocent and batting his eyelashes

“I think you’re hearing things” His voice was high-pitched and sweet. You shove him down onto the couch and sit next to him crossing your arms over your chest and huffing. It gets a few giggles out of him but he still doesn’t address it no matter how much you pout.

Eventually, like a toddler, you tire yourself out and just sit on the couch with him. There is a seat between you but it just feels like more than that. You pull your feet up on the couch and lay your head on the armrest staring at the SpongeBob episode on screen. The fish on screen is screaming about chocolate and you hear Eddie chuckle

“Are you joking?” You giggle as you turn your head to look at him

“This is literally classic SpongeBob. I'm not supposed to find it funny?” He asks, clearly wounded as he takes the throw blanket from the back of the couch, he opens his arm to you. “C’mere hater” he motions with his hand and you push up from the armrest, scooting across the mile-long seat in between the two of you and curling up into his side. He throws the blanket over the two of you and you grab onto his shirt.

“Yeah okay, I guess… I mean I still quote the paper skin thing so”

Eddie snickers as his hand lays on your thigh, he rubs soft, soothing circles, that send chills up your spine

“I’m like pretty sure Buck and I were literally just screaming chocolate last week anyway”

You cuddle together, watching SpongeBob for a few hours. It’s comforting and mind-numbing, it feels good to be in his arms. Eventually, you do take him up on his offer and he gives you a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. You change into them and plop back down with him, his outfit almost identical. It’s around nine when he pulls out his phone and starts scrolling

“Chinese sound good?” He asks and you look up at him, your eyes a little sleepy

“For what”

“Dinner?” It sounds like a question more than an answer “I figured it’s been a while since we ate…and I didn’t go grocery shopping so like..-“

“Okay yeah, that sounds good. What’s your cash app?” You pull out your phone and he takes it from you immediately, tossing it across the couch

“Eddie!!”

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you pay for it so just shut up and say thank you”

“Why didn’t you just not tell me your cash app??” You look at him, and he stops for a second, narrowing his eyes as he thinks.

“Mmm…yeah that was probably a better idea”

You sit up and snatch your phone from the other side of the couch, punching him in the side is a given, and then you lay back against him. He’s laid on the couch, his head comfortably resting on the pillows and you’re on top of him a bit, most of your body buried into the side of the couch.

He runs his fingers down your arm, just stroking it softly. It’s nice, it kinda tickles and you wriggle against him

“You know if I were to stay somewhere I wouldn’t mind if it was here. It’s pretty nice. You do a really good job taking care of your house”

Eddie’s heart flutters, and jumps and does like a roundhouse kick he’s not sure he just knows it’s going wild and he must have an entire butterfly farm in there cause god you’re making him all shy and giddy

“Oh? Well thanks that means a lot”

His voice is cool and even, even though he’s trying his best not to just squeeze the life out of you. Instead, he decides to squish the life out of you. He turns over and puts his arms and legs around you, you push at his chest and groan

“Eddie, you're squishing me! Get off!” Your voice is muffled as it’s buried in his chest

“Hmm my couch my rules, I’m pretty comfy right here” He purrs, holding onto you like a koala bear. You struggle underneath him until you finally give in. He’s warm and soft and overwhelms your senses, his cologne sticks to your body and you rarely wanna take this dress off

“Eddie get your fat butt off of me” you hiss and he snickers, wiggling his hips

“Wait, you think my butt is fat? Like what kinda fat? Like P-h-a-t? Or like is it Thicc with two C’s”

You’re laughing like a hyena into his chest as he goes about all the possible meanings and you slap his chest

“Double C’s maybe even triple when you’re in your work pants,” you tell him, winking dramatically

“That is literally the nicest damn compliment I have ever gotten in my entire life” He wipes a fake tear and rolls off of you, pulls you back onto him, and hugs you tightly to his chest

“Don’t worry, I like your ass too” His voice is so flirty and light. You feel his hands flow down your back, stopping just before they slide under the waistband of the basketball shorts. He easily turns his attention back toward the TV and you’re left a blushing mess on his chest.

Once the food arrives, you wander into the dining room with him, he goes to the kitchen, grabs a couple of bowls, and hands you one.

“You know most people just eat it right out of the carton,” You tell him as you spoon some rice into your bowl

“Yeah on tv maybe” he teases, using chopsticks to put an egg roll in your bowl “But we’re sharing”

You hold a piece of orange chicken up to his mouth and he takes it off your chopsticks “Yeah but how are we supposed to be cute and feed each other” you snicker and he rolls his eyes, chewing his bite

“Oh yeah because our diner experience wasn’t cute enough, holding hands at the table, stealing fries”

“Oh, so you wanted to be cute with me?” Your response is fast and cheeky and his mouth drops open

“I-Okay you know what, shut up and eat your egg roll!” He shoves your head away and you squeal laughing.

He lets you pick whatever you want to watch and you just continue with SpongeBob. You get comfy on the couch with him, your bowl in your lap as you eat together again.

“I realize now, that it’s been 650 hours… but did you ever text everyone back that we were okay?”

Eddie had texted everyone, he handled the entire storm for you, aka Buck’s 57 messages. Maddie was next in line with 34.

“Yeah of course, I told them you were okay too and just needed to shut your phone off” he scrolls through his phone for a second before showing you a picture, you’re staring out of the window of the diner. It’s a pretty picture, and surprisingly photogenic.

“Oh…Thanks” you say shyly, smiling softly at him, leaning you over, putting your head on his shoulder

“You’re the bestest friend a girl could have Eddie”

He kisses your head and lays his cheek on it “You’re welcome sugar cube, anything for you”

Eddie turns down the covers on the bed as you get ready in the bathroom. He smoothly asked you to stay the night… if awkwardly stumbling through his sentence and wringing his hands while dropping the bowl he was washing was smooth.

You’d agreed, giggling at him as you helped pick up the pieces. You said it was too late to be driving anyway and he was glad you agreed. Just a nice, happy, friendly, sleepover. A little tiny sleepover between best friends. “Bestest” she’d said.

You come out of the bathroom in just the t-shirt he’d lent you, you stuff your bra and dress into your mini backpack and put your hands on your hips

“Guess this’ll be a test drive huh?” You tease as you crawl into bed. He tucks you in and it makes you giggle when he leans down and kisses your head

“You know I am serious Y/N, if you need a place to stay my door is always open”

“I think I believe you…” You say quietly as he sits on the edge of your bed “But I just don’t know… it’s a big step, moving across the country. I- I don’t even have a job here and-“

“Hey don’t worry about that,” He says quietly shushing you “I can… I can take care of you”

You look up at him, your cheeks flushed “What are you, my sugar daddy?” you joke as you pull the covers up higher on your neck. He snickers and gets off the bed, going to the door

“Yeah sure I’m totally sugar daddy material” he snorts, his hand pauses on the light switch

“Just….just think about it okay?”

You nod at him, blushing “Yeah okay Eddie… I will.”

He shuts off the lights and closes the door, you’re plunged into darkness…alone with your thoughts.

It’s a couple of hours before your brain finally slows down…Eddie wants you to move in with him? Or at least he’s willing to let you. And like….he wants to take care of you… that’s. That’s fun. What a good friend, what an amazing friend.

Friend.

That word is getting kinda interesting, and used incredibly loosely at this point. Eddie isn’t your boyfriend…he’s your friend but like…. What if he was your boyfriend?

You frown, no. No, it’s not time to think like that, it's time to sleep.

Your eyes pop open angrily. Now it’s three in the morning and this is getting stupid. Maybe it’s because it’s pitch black? That seems reasonable, you’re used to a nightlight. Not that you wish he was there with you no sir, not that.

Not even that you’re kind of freezing… and he certainly wouldn’t want you to freeze to death…

“Eddie? Are you awake?” You ask quietly, poking your head through his door. You can see him in bed, the moonlight streaming through the bedroom window. He stirs a little and turns over

“Yeah” his voice is deep and raspy with sleep “I’m awake sugar cube, is everything okay?”

“Did I wake you?” You step into his room, shutting the door.

“I mean… yeah but I don’t wanna say it” he snickers, sitting up in bed. You pad over softly and climb in with him. You climb over him messily and he rolls his eyes as you slip under the covers. You lay on the other side of the bed, facing him. He lays down and faces you

“Hi”

“Hi”

You smile softly “Just thought you could use some company”

“Aren’t you so thoughtful?” He teases, reaching out for you. You shyly shuffle into his arms, your head resting on his chest

“This okay?” He asks quietly, you can hear his heart beating and it’s soothing. His bare chest is soft against your cheek.

“Uh huh… it’s nice”

“Yeah it is, isn’t it? He whispers into your hair. It doesn’t take long for you both to fall asleep. He didn’t even bother asking why you were there; he just knew he wanted you there. It had been a while since anyone had warmed his bed, and he hadn’t realized how deep the craving was until you were safely nestled in his arms. Friends was starting to become a very useless word, very quickly

And that didn’t bother him one bit.

[wandanatrules]

High school sweet hearts

Pairing: high school nat x fem reader 

summary: your parents are gone for the weekend, so your girlfriend comes over to celebrate your anniversary 

warnings: smut, strap use (r receiving), cum eating, brief ass eating, heavy make out, insecurity, hickeys, cunnilingus, 

You and Natasha have been together for a year now and you couldn't be happier. She was your first girlfriend and the one who made you realize you liked girls. 

You and nat are kind of a "power couple" at your school. Nat had always been a popular person especially among the ladies and you were ecstatic when she asked you to be her girlfriend last year. 

You loved every single part of your relationship with nat, especially what goes on behind closed doors. When you two first had sex with each other you were nervous, because it was your first time. Nat was more experienced, but it was okay because she ran you through everything and made you feel comfortable and secure. Ever since that first night, you broke out of your shell and aren't shy anymore when it comes to sex. You and nat have it as often as you can and since your anniversary is coming up this weekend, just in time for your parents and siblings to go out of town, you want to give Nat the night of her life. 

The truth is you have always been kind of insecure when it comes to your relationship with nat, because of all the girls that want her and try to break you guys apart. You're scared that nat will leave you for someone prettier or better in bed than you, so you try your hardest to make sure all her needs are met. You know you shouldn't be worried, because every time you bring it up to nat she reassures you that she only wants you and all the other girls mean nothing to her. Plus she always whispers in your ear and says, "and baby you're the one I think about when I touch myself, you're the only one I get to fuck dumb and you have the prettiest and tastiest pussy I have ever had. Those girls have nothing on you."

   Friday night came and your family had left you alone in the house. It was 5 pm and you were getting ready for nat to come and pick you up at 7 to take you on your anniversary date. The first thing you had to do was take a shower. After you showered you put on the white lacy lingerie set you had bought, well nat bought it you just picked it out for this occasion. You still had time to kill so you wanted to tease nat and send her a picture of what is to come tonight. You took a mirror picture of you in the lingerie and purposely showed off your breasts and ass.

You- (insert image attached) thought you might want to see the set you bought me, you know to make sure you got your money's worth. 😏💋

natty💋🥵🤎- that was the best money I have ever spent baby, you look so sexy like that and I can't wait to see you 😍🥵. How about you send me another one? 😏

You- sorry natty, but the rest you can see later

natty💋🥵🤎- I'm on my way, we can start our night earlier I just need to see you now

   You weren't ready yet so you put your phone down and decided on a black, body con dress that was tight fitting and short so you could tease your girlfriend. You sprayed yourself in her favorite perfume of yours, you know its the one that makes her go feral so you sprayed extra just for good measure. 

You grabbed your purse and went downstairs to the kitchen. You poured yourself a glass of pineapple juice and sat on the couch scrolling through your phone while you await her arrival. 

Not even five minutes later she rang the doorbell. You walked over and opened it and saw Natasha with a bouquet of flowers. She smiled at you and pulled you by the waist into a kiss. She was wearing a long sleeve black turtle neck shirt tucked into a black and white pair of gingham pants. Her ginger hair was in waves and she was wearing a silver chain and a necklace with your initials on it. Even though you were wearing heels she still towers over you, in a way that is so hot it makes you melt. She had her silver rings on her huge veiny hands and groped your ass while she was hugging you. "I missed you baby." She said in your ear as she started kissing up your neck.

   "Natty, I missed you too", you said as you kissed her one more time and walked away to put the flowers in water. When you came back you found Natasha sitting on the couch scrolling through her phone and she smiled when she looked up at you. She pulled you into her lap and started passionately kissing you everywhere making you moan and whine while bucking your hips for friction. "Nat" you breathed out, "we should get going, we're gonna be late for dinner." You said while trying to get up but she tightened her grip on you.

   "baby please, I want you to be my dinner." She pleaded as she continued kissing you while her hands were traveling south. You worked up all the self control in your body, because if you didn't get up now you would end up having sex on the couch and missing your reservation and spoiling your perfect night.

   You got up much to her dismay and pulled her by the hand out to the car. She broke away from you and went to open the door of the passenger seat for you before closing it and walking over to her side and getting in. She started the car and made her way to the restaurant. You always thought nat looked so good when she drives. She had one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh moving up slowly getting dangerously close to your core.

   That was all you really remembered of your anniversary date with your wonderful girlfriend. Of course the dinner was great and the movie she took you to after was even better, but the part you were most excited for didn't happen until she took you home. 

You told her to pack an overnight bag, because you wanted her to stay with you while your parents were gone. When you guys entered the house you made your way up to your room. She wanted to shower, so you waited on the bed for her. You decided to take your dress off and lie on the bed in the lingerie, because you were eager for her to have you.

 It felt like an eternity, but when she finally left the bathroom she gasped when she saw you on the bed. She was wearing just an oversized shirt and her panties and she could feel them getting wet. She walked to the bed hovered over you and started kissing you everywhere. She got to your lips and started kissing you rough and passionately. Her tongue explored your mouth and pulled whines and moans from you. You kept bucking your hips up seeking friction, so she put her thigh in between your legs to try and ease the ache. She started kissing down your neck leaving dark purple bruises. "I want everyone to see you're mine, so when all those girls come up and tease you you can show them these," she growled in your ear. She removed your bra and sucked your left nipple into her hot mouth. Once she littered your breast with marks she moved to the next one and did the same.

   "Natty, your mouth is so good." You moaned at the feeling as you gripped your hands in her hair. She kissed down your stomach and kissed the wet spot on your panty-clad core. She looked at you asking for permission to take your panties off and you eagerly nodded. She slipped the panties off and licked a stripe through your folds. She sped up the pace and you bucked your hips up to match the pace while moaning and whining and panting. "Oh nat please, I need to come." You said as you gripped her hair even harder as she growled and let out a moan.

   "Don't worry, detka. You can cum when your ready." Nat said before going at an animalistic pace and nipping and sucking at your clit. You came not even a second later and covered nat's face in your arousal. She licked her lips and smirked up at your, before making her way up your body,face to face. Once your breathing got back to normal, you licked your cum off of her cheeks and moaned at the taste of yourself. She pulled you into a kiss and you whined when she took your bottom lip and sucked it into her mouth. "You are the most gorgeous girl in the world, baby. I love you so much." She said to you with a peck on the lips before getting up and stripping her shirt and panties off leaving you both completely naked.

   "I love you more, natty." You said while watching her open your bedside table and grab the strap she left there for times like this. She put the smaller end inside herself with a moan and secured the harness around her waist. She got back on the bed and straddled you while looking at you with lust blown eyes.

   "That's not possible, but get it wet and ready for you detka." She commanded before you spit in your hand and raked it up and down the strap, jerking it off. You repeated doing that until the strap was dripping with your saliva. "How do you want my cock?" She asked while kissing and groping your breasts.

   "I want you to pound into me from behind." You said looking up at her with doe eyes and biting your lip.

   "Your so fucking sexy, baby. Get on your hands and knees!" She growled out while flipping you on your stomach harshly. You assumed the correct position and natasha gripped your ass cheeks before rubbing the tip of the strap through you folds. "You ready?" She asked while reaching up and groping your tits. You nodded your head furiously, "Words baby" she demanded.

   "yess natty please fuck me" you got out with a gasp when you felt her roughly fill you up and grope you from behind. She started of slow until she got a good rhythm and started pounding into you at a fast pace. She gripped your thighs pulling you into her, while she was basically humping you. You were already sensitive from your previous orgasm, so you were close to cumming. "Nat, please I'm so close" and with that she started going at an animalistic pace, fucking into you so hard your whole body was bouncing, your tits were hitting your face, and the bed was banging into the wall. "I'm cumming!" You said as you squirted everywhere leaving the sheets a mess. Nat came too just a few seconds later. After you both came down from your highs nat pushed you down to lay on your stomach and began licking all the arousal and cum from your vagina and ass.

   "Wouldn't want it to go to waste, baby" she looked up and licked her lips as you were panting and moaning like you were in heat. She got up and threw the strap in the shower to be washed later. "Come on baby time for you to clean up, your gonna be sore and sticky."  She said while picking you up and bringing you to the bathroom.

   "Shower with me please, natty." You said with a pout while not letting go of her.

   "Baby, you know how much I want to, but I have to wash the sheets and get new ones, because of your little 'talent'" she said before kissing the pout off your lips and placing you down on the counter. 'But I promise when you get out we can cuddle and kiss in the fresh warm sheets while watching whatever movie you want." She kissed you one more time and walked towards the door. Before she left she said, "Don't forget to wash the strap." As she closed the door and walked out of the bathroom.

[desertdollranch]

Kirsten's bedroom renovation

It's a sunny spring day in Minnesota Territory, and Kirsten is stuck indoors, helping with the spring cleaning. Her first task is to sweep the upstairs bedrooms--she shares one with her three siblings, and so it gets messy very quickly. But Kirsten doesn't complain--she remembers her previous home, a one-room log cabin on her aunt and uncle's farm. That was easier to clean, but it was hard sharing such a small place with six people. After a fire burned that cabin down, the Larsons bought a much larger house, the beautiful home they dreamed they'd have when they left Sweden two years ago.

As for my part in this, I created a bedroom for my Kirsten doll a few years ago, but I recently renovated it to make it look more like the illustrations in Kirsten's sixth book, Changes for Kirsten.

The walls in this illustration look like they've been finished with plaster, which was common in houses at the time. The light color would have come from local sources of limestone.

So most of the changes I made were to the walls and windows. I used printed photographs for the windows, and added the twelve-pane window frames over the images before printing. For the walls, I took down the boring white wood paneling. I imitated that plastered look using tissue paper stuck to the first layer of pale yellow paint, and then I painted another layer over the tissue paper.

The furnishings are basically the same, except for the trunk on the right side of this photo. She used to store her clothes in the top half of Felicity's clothes press, which I mentioned in my recent post about moving the clothes press into the parlor for Caroline to use. After I did that, I knew Kirsten would need a place to store her clothes, and what better piece than a smaller version of her trunk?

Most of the things in the above picture are not from Kirsten's collection. The bed was made by my grandpa when I was eight and first got my Kirsten doll. My mom made the quilt on the bed and the one on the rocking chair, the pillow and mattress on the bed, and the two darker gray cats. The foot stove next to the bed is Pleasant Company, and so are the shoes (including snow shoes) lined up next to the trunk. The rocking chair came from an antique store. I made everything else: both rugs, the cradle, the nightstand, the candle and book and stuffed cat on the nightstand, the cross stitch hanging on the wall, the shelves and everything on them, the painted round boxes at the foot of the bed, baby Britta's dress, and Kirsten's quilt square in the embroidery hoop.

This is a little wooden trunk I found at a craft store. I painted it blue and then painted on the decorative designs using stencils.

That's Kirsten's straw hat hanging on the wall, from her collection. My mom made the two sunbonnets.

I gave it a weathered look by lightly brushing on white and red paint.

The trunk can hold all of Kirsten's clothes. It has room for a few more dresses too. I have almost all of Kirsten's clothes; I'm only missing her baking outfit, skating coat, and promise dress.

I also made the gingham curtains for the windows. There's a lot of blue and white going on in here, so I wanted them to match the color themes.

Next to Britta's cradle are the round boxes I made to hold Kirsten's socks and ribbons, which are all Pleasant Company things. Her lunch box and bucket are from craft stores.

I remade her honey crate and the jars of honey. They now contain clear glue dyed with food coloring. I made her little gnomes too.

The rocking chair was an antique store find. It's perfect for her to sit with her baby sister Britta.

I also painted a little flourish on the end of her bed.

This definitely isn't all of Kirsten's collection--I have a few pieces hidden away underneath her room that won't fit here. That includes her actual big trunk that my grandpa made, her Saint Lucia wreath and tray that I made, her dishes set from her official collection, and some other small things that she doesn't need in her room.

[chilling-seavey]

Even Out of View (pg10, eo31)

↳ A/N I took so much creative freedom with this request from my 1.5k celebration, straying quite far from the modern-vibes song, but once I get a WW1 idea in my head, I can't say no. (Plus shoutout to my girl @starlightiing for not only submitting this request but also helping me to broaden my writing to include different interests, such as undertones of cardiophilia iykyk lolol)

↳ Inspired By: 'Beating Heart Baby' by Head Automatica

↳ Pairings: WW1!FrenchArmy!Pierre x WW1!WarCriminal!Esteban

↳ Word Count: 1824

↳ Warnings: Active historical war setting, some minor descriptions of heart related things, military crimes and their historically accurate punishments, descriptions of execution

Pierre’s footfalls echoed through the abandoned house as he ascended the rickety staircase to the second storey. His muddy boots thudded across the creaking hardwood floors with each step, his rucksack clanking ungracefully against the walls of the narrow upstairs hallway in his rush, past lived-in rooms with their furniture and once-loved belongings coated in layers of dust and gunpowder. All he could hear was his breathing, echoing in his mind, the thudding of his heart and the rush of blood loud in his ears.

He reached the door at the end of the cramped hallway in no time, the bullet holes in the wood overlooked by him in the world that had long since numbed him to the shock of war. Thrusting it open with an unattractive creak, Pierre was met by the sight of a tiny bedroom with a lanky figure sitting on the side of a single bed that was clearly built for a small child. The juxtaposition was a cruel mirth: a reminder of where they came from and the way war ripped their childhoods out of their hands far too soon.

The commotion of Pierre’s entrance had Esteban slowly turning his head to see who entered, keeping his hands folded with his forearms resting on his knees. His face stayed stagnant, pale, even when he noticed who it was. The sight of his expression sent a chill down Pierre’s spine.

“Este-” Pierre’s dry voice caught in his throat and he cleared it quickly before rushing closer, slinging his rifle from his shoulder to let it clatter to the grimy floorboards. In one smooth motion, Pierre helped himself to the side of the small bed beside his friend, his wide blue eyes dead focused on Esteban’s stone expression.

Esteban hung his head, shutting his eyes tightly.

“Esteban, how could you?” Pierre spoke as gently as he could, resting a firm hand on his forearm. He squeezed.

“Go away.” Esteban replied firmly, although his volume was quiet.

Pierre’s concerned expression faltered for a moment, eyes jumping all over Esteban’s face before he answered, “No, why would you want me to go away? In a moment like this?”

Esteban unclasped his fingers and shoved Pierre’s hand off his arm, “I am to be shot at dawn, Pierre, I don’t particularly want to sit here with you and make small talk. I want to be alone.”

Pierre swallowed thickly at his comrade’s bluntness and he turned his body to face forward too so they were sat perfectly parallel, side by side on the little bed with blue gingham sheets. Silence rested heavily on the dust coated room and the soldiers’ shoulders. Across from them, the ripped wallpaper was tacked with a few children’s drawings – or, at least the few drawings that weren’t shot to smithereens – and many of them housed colourful scribbles of stick figure men amongst red, white, and blue. Messy juvenile printing scrawled ‘Vive la France’ and ‘Pour le drapeau! Pour la victoire!’ on the parchment above the subjects.

The nationalistic phrases written proudly by the hand of a likely now deceased French child stared tauntingly back at the two of them.

Long Live France

For the Flag! For Victory!

None of this felt like they were heading towards victory.

Pierre’s shoulders sank, glancing around the abandoned bedroom of some unnamed child. They were supposed to be fighting for the children of France, for their future, for their country, and now, with the world in peril, Esteban was now to be treated as the enemy by his own people.

Despite Esteban’s firm request to be left alone, Pierre spoke up quietly, alerting him gently as if he were a grenade about to go off, “I can’t leave you. I’m your night watch.”

Esteban looked over at him again, eyebrows furrowed, words thick with angst, “Why are you my night watch?”

“I offered…I asked the Lieutenant.” Pierre answered, “I just…I needed to see you.”

He swallowed thickly, blinking back the dampness in his eyes that came with the weight of their hellish reality. He wanted to say more to him: to say that he was worried sick about him when he didn’t return to the trenches a fortnight ago, to say that when he heard he was captured by the military police and was to be tried for desertion Pierre first felt relief, to say that after such a short lifetime together he couldn’t stomach the idea of living without him…of going back out there to the battlefields without him.

But, instead, the silence spoke enough. Esteban simply nodded once.

What else was there to say when he was to be facing his execution in less than twelve hours?

If it were anyone sent to keep an eye on him over night, he was damn glad it was Pierre.

As if that thought physically pained him, Esteban rested his elbows on his knees again and hid his face in his grimy hands. His blue uniform jacket was caked in mud until it looked almost brown and the sweat and blood of the enemy that he was drenched it flattened his midnight black hair across his forehead. Pierre didn't look much better.

Pierre just stared at him like that, wanting to ask so many questions and say so many things.

“I know you don’t want anything to do with me,” Pierre stumbled out, “but, can you let me in your arms just for tonight?”

When Esteban lifted his face from his hands, his mud-stained cheeks were streaked in tears.

He nodded.

Pierre’s heart leapt in his chest at the unexpected agreement and he hurried to shuffle off his rucksack and his utility belt to drop them to the floor before Esteban could change his mind. The tiny metal bed creaked and groaned under the two grown men as they arranged themselves in a hesitant mess of uniformed limbs.

Always the braver, bolder, more assertive of the two, Esteban cuddled up under Pierre’s arm like a weak child. Branded as a coward and a traitor to his country Esteban had just wanted a break. A break from the war, the cries of agony, the death. Here, now, in this abandoned house in the French countryside, in the country they were raised in together, they finally felt a moment of peace for the first time in a long time.

Pierre’s chest shuttered through his calming inhale as he familiarized himself with their newfound position, chest to chest with Esteban, his arms wrapped around his taller comrade. He could feel his rapid heartbeat against his own, the two of them a frantic mess of anxiety and unspoken uncertainties. In a world of darkness and fear and death, the feeling of Esteban’s heartbeat was a reminder of life, of love, of hope.

The two of them kept their eyes screwed shut as if silently willing themselves to be taken back to their childhood town on the beach where summers were joyful and the air was filled with laughter and they raced each other on their bicycles down cobblestone streets. Just like those summer days, their hearts beat firmly in steady time, rapid from exertion and the good company of familiarity.

As the sun set below the horizon to the distant sound of cannons and shells and gunfire, the two men stayed tangled together on that little blue bed. Their heartrates slowed as they held each other, finding a calming rhythm against each other beat by beat. Everything was uncertain – life was uncertain – but them always finding each other? That was always certain.

“In spite of all this, I still love all of you.” Pierre breathed into the night, trying to keep his voice from shaking with subconscious awareness of what the morning would hold, “I do…and I always will.”

Esteban’s hand tightened on the back of Pierre’s matching blue uniform jacket. His heart skipped a beat.

In the morning, they were woken by the officer in charge and two assisting men. Esteban was firmly yanked out of bed by the men of his same rank, each with a stone-like grip on his biceps as they nearly dragged him down the narrow hallway and towards the stairs. Pierre barely had a chance to grab his belongings before he was rushing after them, boots pounding down the flimsy staircase and out into the damp spring morning. It was so cold he could see his panting breath.

He wanted to call out for Esteban as the men let go of him outside of the abandoned house they had slept in that night, letting him fall clumsily to his hands and knees.

“On your feet, Private.” The commanding officer ordered, standing in front of a line of eleven soldiers all armed with their rifles.

As Esteban brought himself to his feet on trembling legs, he looked over at Pierre only a yard away. The officer followed his gaze.

With a cock of his head, the officer called out to Pierre next, “Over here, Gasly, open your rifle.”

Esteban and Pierre both looked at the officer as if he were completely out of his mind.

“Sir-” Pierre started as calmly as he could muster, trying to decline the order.

“We need a dozen men, Private, don’t make me ask again.”

If he argued, he would be put up there against the wall with him, he knew. With a curt nod to his superior, Pierre joined the lineup.

He was supplied three bullets to load into his empty rifle and he loaded it with trembling fingers before clicking his weapon back into place. His red rimmed blue eyes rose to Esteban’s figure standing in front of the stone wall of the house in which they shared their last night together. Out of everyone in that lineup, Esteban’s gaze was locked solely on Pierre.

Esteban was offered a blindfold. He declined.

On the order, the firing squad raised their rifles. Twelve rifles pointed at Esteban.

Pierre had killed a lot of men since the start of the war. He had more blood on his hands than in his body, one might argue. Killing Germans was easy. But this?

Pierre could hardly hear over the ringing in his ears, the rapid thump, thump, thump of his heart enough to drown out the officer’s pitch for Esteban’s final words.

Through the deafening noise, he barely heard Esteban’s voice cutting across the misty spring dawn, words off-set from the movement of his mouth as Pierre stared at him, “I defend France with honour and glory.”

Esteban’s dark eyes never wavered from Pierre’s baby blues, staring at him right through the rifle that was pointed directly at him. He raised his hand to set over his heart, a silent reminder of the rhythm they shared so closely the night before and all those years back home. Pierre swallowed the lump in his throat.

Finally, the commanding officer gave his order, “Fire at will, gentlemen.��

Pierre shut his eyes and pulled the trigger.

"You want nothing to do with me, I don't know what to do with you, Cause you don't know what you do to me. Baby is this love for real? Let me in your arms to feel The beating of your heart, baby."

[meekahy]

Stood Up

Hi guys, 2 fics in one day! This one is inspired by me getting stood up on a date tonight. Need a Quinn in my life <3

You were listening to the 1975 on repeat as you put your makeup on in the mirror for a date. Singing along to Love Me, you put on some pink eyeshadow and then your mascara. Once satisfied with how you looked, you went to put on an outfit. You had previously picked out a few different outfits just in case you didn’t like one outfit. The first outfit was a gray crop top with a plaid skirt. You tried it on and decided you didn’t like the vibes. The second outfit was a black cropped cardigan that you left buttoned and a gingham mini skirt. You felt so cute in this, you left it on. 

Sitting on your bed, you head to Pinterest to see what you could do with your hair. You scrolled and found something that you would be able to do quickly. You plugged your curling iron in and started to part your hair into sections while it heated up. After it was hot, you took a section and twirled it around the barrel. Getting all of your hair curled, you sprayed it with hairspray, setting the curls. Looking back at the pin you saved, you parted your hair into a half-up situation with your hair parted in the middle. After gathering the pigtails you had into your hand, you pulled a loose strand to hang down in front of your eyes. You secure the pigtails with elastic bands and then you hairsprayed everything into place. 

You put your finishing touches on as your phone dinged. Your date messaged you saying that he would be there to pick you up in ten minutes. Smiling, you replied that you were ready and would await on the steps. You quickly put on your white Adidas sneakers before heading outside to sit on the steps and wait for your date.

Looking down at your phone for the time, you notice it has been a half hour since your date was supposed to pick you up. Unlocking your phone, you shoot your date an “Are you okay?” text. After another ten minutes, you realize you have been stood up. As a tear slipped down your cheek, you quickly texted your best friend, Quinn.

“Quinny, I just got stood up. Was supposed to go out with someone and they ghosted me,” you typed before hitting send. Tucking your phone into your lap, you let the tears fall.

Almost immediately, Quinn texted you back saying, “Who the fuck do I need to talk to? Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

Through the tears, you told him you were on the steps of your place.

“I’ll be there in 5,” he sent instantly. You sighed as you put your phone down, and pulled your arms around yourself.

Quinn was there in three minutes. He drove so fast, and he was so mad at the guy who stood you up. Why would someone do that? Even though he was your best friend, he’s had a huge crush on you since the moment you guys met.

He parked and got out of the car and walked over to sit by you. Quinn wrapped an arm around your shoulders and let you lay your head on his. He rubbed your arm up and down as you let out a small sob. 

“Oh, honey,” he whispered, “It’ll be okay. He’s not worth it anyway. You, however, are.”

Lifting your head from his shoulder, you looked at him in the eyes, “You think so?”

Quinn nodded, “I know so. What would you like to do now?”

“I’m not sure,” you mumbled as Quinn wiped away a stray tear from your eyes.

Quinn gathered a bit of courage before asking you, “Do you want to go on a date with me? I know we’re just best friends and all, but I really like you. I have for a long time and I understand if you don’t want-” You cut off his rambling by pulling him in for a sweet kiss.

“Quinn, I’d love to go on a date with you. I’ve liked you for a while too, just thought you didn’t like me like that. I didn’t want to say anything so I just went on dates as a distraction. I’m-” It was his turn to cut off your rambling with a kiss. His hands slid into both of yours as you deepened the kiss.

Breaking the kiss to breathe, Quinn said breathlessly, “Forgot to tell you that you look beautiful tonight.”

A bright blush grazed your cheeks as you squeezed his hands. “Do you want to come in? We could watch a movie or something,” you shyly questioned.

“Only if I can call you my girlfriend,” he stated matter of factly.

“Deal,” you replied as you pressed one last kiss to Quinn’s lips before tugging him towards your apartment.

[sissylittlefeather]

A/N: here it is! I finally finished it! This could be a prequel to my other two, if you want it to be. Otherwise, it's just a fun 2nd person Elvis x fem!reader one-shot about a young and innocent Elvis on the night he becomes a man. There are most definitely historical inaccuracies, but let's just let those slide please 🥺. I'd love feedback, if you have any!

Warnings: Virgin Elvis, f/m p in v sex, fingering, lots of kissing, kind of a slow burn, unprotected sex, cussing, etc

Last thing: I'm using a gif of Austin Elvis and one of the real deal EP because you can imagine either one. Whatever makes your heart happy.

Baby, What's Your Name?

You've always been bold for a girl of your generation. Your first kiss was your idea and you haven't been "innocent" for a while now. Not that you are open and available for anyone, you just don't hold back when it comes to falling in love.

The year is 1955 and your friend Margie has begged you to come with her to a concert tonight. You have class the next day, and you take your college studies very seriously, but you figure you can still get home at a decent hour. Apparently, there's a new singer that Margie is gushing over. She's heard from other girls that he's supposed to be "something to see". Margie doesn't have much else going on; school isn't exactly her thing. She'll tell anyone who'll listen that she's only there to find a husband. You roll your eyes at this thought and go back to flipping through your closet for something to wear.

"Y/n, just pick something! We're going to be late!" Margie begs, pouting. You settle on a pink and white gingham sundress, sweeping your hair into a ponytail and tying it with a matching pink ribbon. You barely get your shoes on before Margie drags you out the door of your room on campus.

******

The crowd is almost entirely female. "Who is this guy?" You think to yourself. Oh well, no matter. Hopefully it'll be over soon and you can go home and get in bed. It's already late and it's a warm night for September. Margie is bouncing around next to you in her seat.

"Oh my gosh, I just can't wait until he comes out! Eliza said he's the cutest thing she's ever seen!" You roll your eyes again. You do that a lot around Margie. You didn't pick her to be your roommate; the university did. Still, she's been a decent friend, even if she's a little ditsy and boy crazy.

Finally, the other acts are finished and the announcer comes out to let you know this new artist is coming out.

"Please welcome to the stage Elvis Presley!"

The crowd goes absolutely insane. You start to wonder if maybe you've been studying too much. How could you not know this man that everyone else is so crazy for?

He walks out to the middle of the stage. He's wearing a pink jacket that matches the color of your dress. You're surprised to find that he's much more attractive than you imagined he would be, with his boyish smirk and black hair. You sit up a little straighter in your chair, but a group of girls has gathered in the front standing up, so you can't really see anymore from your seat.

Margie grabs your hand, "Come on! Let's go up there!"

"No, no I'm okay here."

Then he starts to sing. Your heart skips a beat and something deep in your stomach turns over. You stand up without even thinking, trying to see better. Margie takes the opportunity and grabs your hand. You don't fight back as she drags you up to the stage.

When you get close enough to really be able to see him, the thing in your stomach flip flops again. He's moving. And not just, like, tapping his foot. He's moving his legs and his hips in ways you didn't even think was possible... not in public, at least. The thing in your stomach moves deeper in your body to the place between your legs. You are drawn to him like he's got some kind of spell on you. More girls press in behind you, but thanks to Margie, you were up there pretty early and you're only one row back from the stage.

You need him. You need him to notice you and want you too. You start racking your brain for what you can do to get his attention. Every other girl around you is screaming like a fool. That won't work. They're also reaching for him like they might pull him off the stage if he gets close enough. He's moving around the stage quite a bit, but he's very careful never to get too close. If only you had something to throw... but you don't have anything in your hands, no bracelets or anything, and the ribbon from your ponytail isn't heavy enough to make it all the way to the stage. He's singing a slower song now, playing his guitar and looking around the crowd. Somehow, his blue eyes make contact with yours and your heart stops. You become acutely aware of your panties and the place on your body directly under them.

Wait. That's it! That would certainly get his attention. And you could easily get them off with the crowd surrounding you. Also, your full skirt that goes all the way to your knees will keep anyone from really knowing they're missing. You start working them down your thighs and Margie notices you wiggling next to her.

"What are you doing?!"

"Don't worry about it."

Finally, you feel your panties hit your ankles and rest on your shoes. It's nearly impossible with the crowd pressing in around you, but you manage to get them off your feet and into your hand. You take a second to thank the heavens that you were wearing pretty pink ones with lace, and not your laundry day undies. You look up to the stage, assessing how hard to throw them to make it right to where he's standing. After spending years playing baseball with your brothers as a kid, you're pretty confident you can get them there.

You take one last look at him; he's holding the mic at an angle, leaned over it and singing with his whole body. The second he finishes the song and stands up, you use all the strength in your arm and calculations you've just done and throw...

They land perfectly at his feet. You couldn't have possibly done any better if your life depended on it. Margie and the other girls directly around you stop and look at you, trying to figure out what you've thrown on the stage.

"Now, what's this?" He asks, picking your panties up from his feet and holding them up. When he realizes what they are, he blushes deeply.

"Well, that's something I didn't expect." He laughs into the mic and looks out into the audience to try to figure out who has given him such an awkward gift. The other girls are staring at you with their mouths open, so it's not hard for him to figure out. Your blush matches his, though, so he simply nods his head slightly in your direction, puts your panties in his pocket quickly and quietly, and moves on to his next song. The girls go back to screaming and you feel various others in the crowd wiggling like you did just minutes ago. Before he can even finish the song, panties are flying on stage left and right. He starts laughing, "ladies, I'm very flattered, but this is really unnecessary!"

The announcer rushes back out onto the stage, stepping between Elvis and the microphone.

"Thank you, Mr. Presley, for such a lovely show! Now, that's the end of our program for the evening, everyone. Thanks for coming out and be safe on your way home!"

You feel a little guilty for ending his set early with your panty-throwing, but you didn't make all those other girls go crazy. Still, you wish he would stay up there forever, singing and moving his hips. You're not ready for this feeling to go away. Another crazy thought enters your head. Maybe you'll try to get your panties back...

******

It wasn't hard to figure out where he is staying. There's really only one nice motel in town and the cars from his tour caravan are in the parking lot. You managed to convince Margie to go on home, so you're alone. You're a little nervous, walking into the motel office, but your boldness wins out.

"Hi. I need to know which room Mr. Presley is in."

"Yeah, you and every other girl in town."

"Right, but he asked for me. Call him. I just forgot the room number." It's a flimsy lie and you know it. The motel worker picks up the phone and dials "121".

"Never mind, I was lying. You caught me. I had to try though, right?" You chuckle softly as you back out of the office. Once you're outside, you head straight to room 121. When you get there, you have a sudden attack of nerves. It's so late at night and you're about to knock on the door of a man you've never actually met. This is crazy.

You're standing there trying to decide what to do when the door opens and he almost walks straight into you.

"Oh, I'm sorry darlin', I didn't even see you there." You're frozen to the spot, speechless at his closeness to you as he stands in the doorway of his motel room. He explains something about wanting to talk to someone about how to keep the show going, even if the crowd gets rowdy.

"But I'm not sure why I'm telling you this. Why are you here?" His brows knit together in the center of his forehead.

"Me? I'm just... well... I believe you have something of mine." Again, your boldness beats your fear and you walk past him into his room. He looks out the door and around nervously before closing it gently and turning around to face you. The curtains are pulled shut tightly and the glow from the lamps makes everything in the room kind of orange.

"Something of yours? Honey, I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"Something I threw on the stage." You look him dead in the eyes, hoping he'll recognize you.

"Oh. Oh! It's you!" Thank heavens, he does recognize you. He blushes again, not as deeply this time, but the memory is affecting him.

"I do have something of yours, but I have no intention of giving them back." He smiles playfully and walks across the room to where his jacket is hanging on the back of a chair. He pulls your panties out of his jacket pocket and holds them tightly in his fist.

"The way I see it, you gave me these, fair and square."

"Well, I wasn't really thinking, and it's weird not wearing any..." you realize what you've just told him and his eyes slowly drift to just below your waist before he snaps them back up to meet your eyes again. He swallows hard and you stand there awkwardly, not sure what to say next. You walk across the room to him and reach for your panties. He holds them up high over your head and pouts.

"Do you really want them back?"

You're standing so close to him now that you can feel him breathing. Your heart is in your throat with the sensation of his closeness. You don't want your panties back. You want something else entirely.

"No..." you whisper quietly, trying to signal him that he could kiss you if he wants to, that he should kiss you.

Somehow, he reads your signals correctly and leans in slowly. He moves carefully watching for signs that this isn't what you want, but your upturned face and eyes closed softly are exactly what he's hoping for. When his lips finally touch yours, they're gentle, but soon after he drops your panties on the floor and grabs your face with both hands. His lips part yours and his tongue dips into your mouth hungrily. He moves his hands to your waist and you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a more passionate kiss. You're locked together like this for some time, kissing, before you realize his hands are shaking lightly. He pulls out of the kiss and puts his forehead on yours, breathing heavily.

"You kiss me like this much more, darlin' and I'm not sure I'll be able to stop."

"I don't want you to stop."

He pulls back and looks at you, his mouth hanging open in mild shock. You can't figure out why he's so nervous. You're saying "yes" in every way you know how. He swallows again deeply and blushes a little.

"Aw, now, honey, don't say things you don't mean. I've never..."

Your eyes widen in disbelief. His nervousness is starting to make sense. He's never done this before. He's a virgin.

The realization makes you smile and you giggle a little at the thought. This man, who dances on stage like he does this every other night, has never actually been with a woman.

"Well, it's not that funny." He pouts again.

"No, I'm sorry, it's not funny at all. But if you don't want to do this, tell me now. Because I won't let you if you really don't want to." You smile reassuringly, but your body is aching for him to touch more of you.

"I didn't say I don't want to." He goes in for another deep and passionate kiss, his tongue moving in ways you'd never imagined. All you can think about is his tongue touching you in other places and that warm spot between your legs gets even warmer. He picks you up by the waist, lifting your feet off the floor just enough to carry you to the bed. Laying you gently on the bed, he stops for a second and looks at you laying there in your pink gingham dress. You prop yourself up on your elbows and kick off your shoes.

"What?"

"Nothing... I just... pink is my favorite color." He mumbles before laying on the bed next to you. You're both laying on your sides facing each other and he begins to undress you carefully, first untying the ribbon in your hair. Then he slides his hand down your back to unzip your dress. The zipper ends where your panties should be, but aren't, and as his fingers brush your skin, you tingle all over. His hand travels back up to the latch of your bra. He fumbles with it for a bit, his fingers trembling, before he finally gets it unclasped. You become keenly aware that all he has to do is slide your dress forward and down and you'll be completely naked. You can see by the bulge in his pants that he's had this thought too. You put your hand up to his face, cupping his cheek.

"You're sure this is what you want?"

"Honey, I've never been more sure of anything in my life." He pulls your dress and bra forward and off of you, standing up to drop it on the floor with your shoes. Now you can really see his hardness pushing against his pants. He takes his shirt off and you sit up to unbutton his pants, letting them drop to the floor next to the pile of your clothes.

Now you're both naked. You touch him gently and he sighs and looks up at the ceiling. After a few seconds of this, he almost can't stand it anymore, so he lays you down on the bed, crawling on top of you, still trembling, but obviously gaining confidence. He presses his lips to yours again and you rub your tongue along his bottom lip before he opens his mouth into a deeper kiss. His hand moves down your body, stopping to caress your breast and run his thumb over your nipple. His hand shakes less and less as he moves further down your torso to your hip. He rolls to the side a little and walks his fingers over to the place between your legs. You open them just enough for him to slip a finger inside you. You let out a small moan against his mouth as he moves his finger in and out and in again. You stop kissing him and look into his eyes, reaching down to his hand. Gently, you guide his thumb to the spot that makes your stomach turn over and your heart beat faster.

"Here. Do circles." He listens eagerly and does exactly as you tell him. He feels the knot harden as he massages it, so he keeps up a consistent rhythm. You lose the ability to give him further instruction-- he doesn't need it anyway-- as the pleasure builds up between your legs. You can feel yourself approaching your climax and prepare yourself for the fireworks. He's watching you so closely, taking cues from your body about what to do next. He puts his finger back in you, doing a tickling motion with his fingertip against your insides. You might burst with all the electricity flowing through your body.

"Oh! Yes! Fuck!" You cry out as the ecstatic release washes over you and you begin to pulse around his finger. He smiles widely, amused by your cussing and pleased with his ability to give you an orgasm on his first try. You're not exactly sure how he managed it, but you really don't care. You're still riding your body high. He moves his hand back to your hip and you feel your wetness on his fingers. He's kissing you again, grinding his hardness against your thigh. Despite your release, you're ready for more of him inside you. You reach down again, wrapping your hand around him softly and moving his hips to line up with yours. You put his tip against yourself and pull back from his kiss.

"Last chance to back out." He smiles and looks directly into your eyes. Then, he pushes forward with his hips, just like he did on stage, filling you entirely. The sensation almost overwhelms him and he sets his forehead on your shoulder.

"Oh fuck, baby." Now it's your turn to smile at him for cussing.

"It actually gets better." He lifts his head off your shoulder to look into your eyes and there's an excitement in his that almost makes you laugh out loud. Instead, you plant a kiss on his lips and wrap your legs around his waist. He starts to pump in and out rhythmically. You're not surprised that he's good at this part. You've seen him move on stage. Still, you know he probably won't last too long, since it's his first time, and there's more you want to show him. You release him from your legs and push him off of you and onto his back.

"Oh no baby what...?" With one leg on either side of his hips, you lower yourself onto him. He nearly loses his mind as the change in angle changes the sensation. He moans deeply and grabs your hips, guiding your movement as you ride him. His pleasure is building up and you know he's close as you slide up and down. You move faster and faster, pushing him toward his climax.

"Oh fuck, shit, fuck baby!" He yells as you feel him shudder underneath you and fill you with his warmth. He moans loudly as you move up and down a few more times to really push him over the edge. With him still inside you, you lean forward and lay on his chest. He wraps his arms around you.

"Wow, honey, that was... wow." You smile against his chest, satisfied with your work. After a good amount of time in this position, you move off of him and lay down next to him on your back. He props himself up on his elbow and turns to face you.

"How soon can we do it again?" You chuckle at his eagerness as you realize you won't be making it back to your room tonight. Suddenly, his eyebrows come together on his forehead in worry and you rearrange yourself to look him in the face, mildly concerned at his expression. You brace yourself for some kind of confession. Instead, he smiles and innocently asks:

"Baby... what's your name?"

You erupt in peals of laughter, wrapping your arms around him and rolling over on top of him. You think of the panties on the floor of his motel room, so glad that Margie dragged you to the concert tonight. This might be the beginning of something wonderful.

"My name is..."

[scuttling]

I Can Handle Me A Dangerous Man - Ch 1

Fandom: True Blood (TV) Pairings: Eric Northman/Female Reader or Eric Northman/OFC Word Count: 4,471 Tags: 18+, NSFW in later chapters, it's gonna get real nasty Summary: Sookie's cousin returns to Bon Temps, and Eric wants her... to work for him. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

When Camila Reyes steps out of the taxi, she is met with a billowing cloud of cigarette smoke, the crunch of gravel beneath her boots, and thick, humid air unlike anything she’d ever felt in Chicago. She takes in the old farmhouse, her home for much of her childhood, and feels guilt and regret settle over her when she remembers the last time she set foot in Bon Temps—the day of Gran’s funeral.

She pays the driver, tips him well even though he chain-smoked the entire ride from the airport, and lifts her bags from the inside of the trunk; when he drives away, leaving her standing in a cyclone of dust, she takes a deep, fortifying breath and strides to the front door. 

Confident is the last thing she feels—helpless, dejected, and unmoored are the first things that come to mind—but she pastes on a self-assured smile and raps her knuckles on the metal frame of the storm door. A short woman with blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail looks at her quizzically through the screen, and then gasps and throws the door open, nearly knocking Cam off her feet.

“Camila Reyes, is that you? I haven’t seen you in, what, ten years?” the woman asks, wrapping her arms around Cam. They’re around the same height with similar builds, but whereas Cam has dark hair and naturally tanned skin, she is all bright yellow curls and skin like a porcelain doll, the gap in her teeth as endearing as it was when they were teenagers.

“Sookie! It’s been a long time, a really long time. You look so lovely,” she says, pulling back so she can look her over at arm’s length. She wears a pair of yellow gingham shorts with a flowy white tank top and white Keds, and something about that is so quintessentially Sookie that it immediately fills her with fondness. Sookie grins.

“So do you – and you’ve even lost your accent,” she says in a way that’s almost accusatory, but she’s smirking playfully. “Now you sound all classy and sophisticated and I’m the only one with the podunk twang.” Cam shrugs and laughs; she didn’t set out to lose the accent at first, but it became clear that her colleagues in the big city didn’t find the Louisiana drawl as charming as television had led her to believe.

“Ten years will do that to you,” Cam says lightly, doing her best not to reflect on the last of those ten years and how everything she’d worked so hard for circled the drain. “Now, I know you weren’t expecting me, and I hate to do this…” she begins, but Sookie brushes her off with the wave of a manicured hand. 

“Don’t you even start,” she says, and then she reaches down to grab one of Cam’s bags and holds open the door. “This is your home too, and you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, you know that.”

Cam grabs the other bag and follows her through the house, up the staircase that had seen better days many days ago. “I brought wine, if that’s any consolation,” she says, though she knows Sookie means it, that it’s really no trouble for her to stay with her in this big, empty house, “and now you can borrow my shoes any time you want.” 

Sookie glances back and smiles at her. 

“Wine is always good, and your shoe collection is even better, I know that for a fact.” They stop outside what is now a guest room, but which used to be Cam’s room, and she is grateful to see something other than the pale purple wallpaper of her childhood adorning the walls. The room is now bright and airy, painted robin’s egg blue, and its look suits Sookie more than it ever suited Cam. “But the best part is having my favorite cousin back home after all these years.”  

Sookie walks into the room, sets the suitcase on the chair beside the bed, and Cam does the same. Her returning smile is sad; she knows it had to be difficult for Sookie to be here… not alone, but without one of the few people in Bon Temps who really understood her, who saw her for the girl she was instead of what they thought she should have been. Guilt makes her stomach twist. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t see me at Gran’s funeral,” she says—because technically, that’s true. Sookie hadn’t seen her, because she hadn’t made it past the front seat of her rental car. She never even told Sookie or Jason she was there. Sookie frowns, but it’s sympathetic and kind. 

“That’s okay. I know how hard funerals are for you. What matters most is that you’re here now… and that there’s someone I want you to meet.” Cam is grateful for the change of topic, and the flirtatious smile Sookie sends her way has her suddenly very, very curious. 

“Is this someone a man?” she asks, eyes wide and faux-incredulous. Sookie slaps her arm gently and nods her head. 

“Yes, it’s a man… his name’s Bill, and he’s my… Well, boyfriend doesn’t feel like the right word, but I guess that’s what he is.” Her hands move to her hips, and she looks over Cam’s hair, her outfit, and apparently deems it suitable. “Why don’t you freshen up a bit, and I’ll treat you to dinner at Merlotte’s so you can meet him. It’s near-dark anyway.” Cam smooths the hair at the crown of her head, certain she’s got frizz and flyaways no hairspray can contain, and nods. Sookie starts toward the door when Cam calls out after her. 

“You’re treating—does that mean he’s a modern man who lets his lady pay for the meal? How progressive,” she teases—Gran never liked boys who took them out and didn’t offer to pay, and it was a joke between them and their friend Tara; Sookie chuckles like she’s holding in a joke of her own. 

“No, he’s really old-fashioned, actually,” she says thoughtfully. She taps on the doorframe before she steps into the hall. “It’s just that, well, he never eats a meal.”

Bill is a vampire because, obviously; Sookie wasn’t exactly being subtle, but it took Cam nearly the entire drive to Bon Temps’ finest bar and grille to put the hints together anyway. She blames it on the jet lag, even though she never actually left her own time zone. 

They meet him inside, and he’s already seated comfortably in a booth, but he stands to greet her when she and Sookie approach him. Cam is all but attacked by Tara, who hugs her more tightly than even Sookie did, and they make a promise to catch up later when the bartender’s not up to her neck in two-dollar drafts. 

“It’s so nice to see you comfortable here,” Cam comments to Bill later, when he is handed a bottle of Tru Blood by a smiling, if slightly neurotic looking red-headed waitress. He seems familiar with the clientele, greeted Sam and Tara like friends; she has to hand it to her hometown: she would have guessed they’d be way behind the national average when it comes to human-vampire relations. Bill takes a sip and offers her a smile. 

“Thank you. That’s mostly Sookie’s doing,” he admits, and then he glances over at her, at her lovestruck smile. The two of them are so cute it actually makes Cam’s teeth ache. “People weren’t exactly welcoming me with open arms at first, but she has this way of making people listen to her, even when they don’t want to.” 

“It’s a gift,” Cam says, dropping her own hint, but Sookie shoots her an unreadable look and she takes a sip of her beer instead of following up on that. She changes tracks. “I don’t know if Sookie told you, but I’m a lawyer, and I specialized in vampire rights back in Chicago. If you ever need something, legal advice or support, you have my number now.” 

“That’s so kind of you; I will keep that in mind,” he says gratefully, fingers wrapped around the glass bottle. “And I have to say, I appreciate you doing that kind of work. I know not everyone is progressive when it comes to vampire rights, and I’m sure it’s a difficult occupation.” Cam nods. 

“It has its moments. I’ve experienced more than my share of tragedy, had many clients executed by radical humans before we could attempt justice.” She suppresses a shiver at the thought of some of the things she’s heard, things she’s seen. Across from her, Sookie tuts and shakes her head. 

“Executions. What a terrible thought,” she speaks through a frown. She takes a sip of her iced tea, and after a moment, Bill stiffens in his seat beside her. Cam, familiar with vampire microexpressions, clocks the change in his disposition, and so does Sookie; she tilts her head in confusion like she wishes she could hear his thoughts.

Just then, a man approaches their booth, tall and broad, with short blond hair and a peaked complexion that outs him as a vampire immediately. Dressed all in black, he looks especially pale, and shadow falls over the three of them as his hulking silhouette blocks out the overhead light.

“Sorry to interrupt. Hello Sookie. Bill.” The man turns to Cam, his lips curving up into a polite smile as he gives her a tasteful once-over. She can see that his eyes are silvery blue, a cool, icy, complex color that captivates her instantly. “Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“This is Sookie’s cousin, Camila. She’s visiting from Chicago,” Bill says with a tone that indicates the man is unwelcome at the table they share. He pays it no mind and reaches out to take her hand, to lean in and place his lips there in the semblance of a greeting kiss. It makes Cam flush hot, and she hopes it doesn’t rise to her cheeks for all to see.

“I’m Eric Northman. What a pleasure it is to meet you,” he says, eyes drifting over her face now that there’s less distance between them. He pauses there briefly to look into her eyes, curiosity in his stoic gaze. “I see some of Sookie’s features in you.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Eric, thank you,” she replies, though with her dark hair and complexion no one has ever drawn a similarity between her and her fairer cousin. Cam’s mother was Gran’s daughter, Sookie’s aunt, and Cam’s father was of Cuban descent, fresh off the boat he rode in on—and out on, just as quickly as he’d come. “Will you be joining us?” 

“He will not,” Bill supplies in the same clipped tone he’d used previously. He looks incredibly serious, more now like the vampire he is than when it was just the three of them; Eric stands, drops her hand, and flicks an irritated glance in the other vampire’s direction. 

“I do not wish to impose, but I do need a moment with Bill here, if you ladies don’t mind. Business deal,” he adds, and then he looks back to Cam and Sookie, his features more polite. He winks at them. “I promise it will only take a minute.” 

Bill thinks it over—though it doesn’t seem like a request to Cam—and seems to decide it best to accept the invitation and step away from the table; he glances over at Sookie with a brief apology and walks toward the door, and Eric follows him, throwing a glance over his shoulder as he goes.

“Now there’s a man that makes me think terrible thoughts,” Cam murmurs when she expects he’s out of range. “Over and over and over.” She says it partially because it’s true, but also to earn the scandalized laugh Sookie shares as she slaps Cam on the arm.

“Oh my god, Cami!” Cam laughs back, playing indignant. Not that you’re wrong, but…

“Well he does, all climbable and big and strong. And those eyes—you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s handsome.” 

After a brief stare-down, Sookie huffs a sigh.

“Objectively, yes,” Sookie says, with a playful roll of her eyes, “but he’s also Bill’s sheriff, and… I don’t know, rival, I guess?” Pain in the ass is more like it, she thinks, though she’d never say it aloud.

Cam drains her beer and narrows her eyes at Sookie, leaning in. The objectively shit doesn’t throw her for a second.

“Sookie Stackhouse, do you have both of those gorgeous men battling for your attention? I swear, sometimes it feels like blondes do have more fun.” 

She rolls her eyes again, chuckles like the thought of earning Eric’s attention is laughable. She probably still sees herself as the awkward teenage girl Cam remembered her as and not the Southern bombshell she is now.

“I think Eric is interested in things he can’t have, that’s all—not me in particular. And he really likes getting Bill’s goat.”

“So you’re saying I should play hard to get?” Cam teases, but despite the lightheartedness of her comment, the atmosphere changes drastically and Sookie’s face becomes serious.

“I’m saying you should stay far the hell away from him. He’s–he’s, cold-hearted and mean. Cruel. He does underhanded things to get what he wants.”

Cam has always found herself amused by Sookie’s naivety, but hearing her speak so judgmentally about Eric, about vampires, gives her pause. 

“I’ve been in the company of vampires, Sook, I know how some of them can be.” Sookie sits back, tilts her head to the side, and Cam narrows her eyes. “What?” 

“You’ve been in the company of vampires?” she asks, brows raised, and for a moment she is that naive teenage girl again. Cam simply waves a hand.

“Chicago is very different from Bon Temps, or even Shreveport, so yes, I’ve been in the company of vampires. Plus, they’re the only ones that truly quiet my mind, you know?” she adds as an aside, and Sookie shushes her, looks toward the door and back with wide eyes.

“Keep it down. I haven’t told Bill you’re a telepath too, or anyone, for that matter. Next thing you know you’ll be dragged into vampire business, and that is not somewhere you want to be, trust me.”

She can sense the sincerity in Sookie’s voice, so she does soften to a murmur, unable to be heard among the din of the chattering crowd.

“It’s my secret to keep, or not keep—and it was a big help during some of my trials, even if my colleagues didn’t know all the details. I get that you’ve always hated your ability, but it’s an important part of me. I don’t try to hide it anymore.” The thing about Bon Temps, love it or hate it, is everyone knows everyone else's business, and although Cam’s never felt fully herself in this town, she’s not about to hide for anyone else’s comfort. Sookie frowns, contrite.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… not something I’d be doing, if it weren’t for Bill. Eric holds things over him and I’m stuck in the middle trying to make peace.” She doesn’t say any more, because the vampires walk back in, and when Bill takes his seat Eric claps a hand on his shoulder firmly, in a way that could seem friendly but that looks more like a show of power than anything.

“Told you I’d bring him back,” Eric says to Sookie, who suddenly becomes very interested in her manicure; she drags the edge of her nail through the condensation left behind by her glass. Eric pays her no mind and looks to Cam again. “Before I leave, I want to extend an invitation to you. I own a bar in Shreveport called Fangtasia, and I would love for you to come by for a drink some time so we can get to know each other better.” 

The word drink makes her think of the vampire’s unique diet—something completely normal, not usually something she’d normally fixate on anymore than she’d be intrigued by a pescetarian—and she quickly tamps down the flash of interest that jolts through her body at the associated imagery.

“That sounds nice, Eric, I’ll be sure to take you up on that,” she says with a smile, and as she does something tugs at the back of her mind arbitrarily, something she can’t quite put her finger on. She clears her throat. “Bill has the details, I’m sure.” 

Bill appears grateful for her inclusion of him—she figures he’s probably feeling emasculated by the more senior vampire, the way he speaks with a double meaning under his tongue—and he assures Eric he will pass on the information.

“Well then, I’ll let the three of you get back to your evening. Thank you again, Bill,” he says without inflection, and he looks over at Sookie, then Cam. “I look forward to seeing you soon.”

He leaves, and Sookie looks Bill over, runs her hand up and down his back in a comforting gesture. Cam’s not sure if it’s meant for her eyes or not. 

A few moments later, the red-headed waitress returns to take their dinner orders, and Cam orders a massive salad and another beer and asks Bill what he misses most about the 1800s. It proves to be a good distraction, and by dessert his features seem to have softened again. 

When Sookie drives them back to the farmhouse, the twinkling stars in the cloudless blue sky remind her of the depth of Eric’s eyes.

As Cam walks into Fangtasia for the first time, she notes that it’s exactly what she expects: a small, dark, loud nightclub packed with the moving bodies of humans and vampires alike. Some of the humans are hoping to find a community of their peers, folks with tattoos up and down their arms and more piercings than one would think possible; some are there to see their first vampire or try to initiate contact with one; and some are there just to say they went, buying overpriced drinks and t-shirts and taking selfies with the crowd. 

She feels about middle of the road in a navy silk camisole, black pants, and her most comfortable black heels, and she breezes over to the bar and buys herself a martini, finds a table toward the less crowded back of the room and slides onto the stool nearest the wall. 

It takes all of five minutes for Eric to approach her, looking as gorgeous as he did when they first met; this time he is wearing a tight black tank, black jeans, and damn, if she thought she was climbable before…

He quirks a smile as he sidles up to the table. 

“Camila,” he greets warmly, and when she stands he leans in to mimic a kiss on her cheek. She feels that same strange tugging sensation at the back of her brain that she did at Merlotte’s, but the memory leaves her as quickly as it had returned. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“I had to see what all the fuss was about; your bar is very popular among the travelers passing through Bon Temps these days,” she mentions, thinking back to a strange vampire that had given Bill a hard time at Merlotte’s the other night as they were getting ready to leave. Apparently not everyone was as enamored of Vampire Bill as others. 

“And how do you like it?” he asks, resting his hand on the table top, palm flat, fingers spread. She looks at his broad hand for a moment—a second longer than she should have, maybe—then glances up to look at his face.

“How embarrassing would it be if I said it’s… fangtastic?” she asks with a shrug of her shoulder. Her joke earns a laugh from Eric, and she feels silly for the warmth that flushes through her at his approval. 

“From you, I’ll take it as a compliment. I’m sure the establishments you frequented in Chicago were a little different from this one.” She hums thoughtfully; she’s had her fair share of meetings in swanky hotel bars and fine dining restaurants, but vampire clubs aren’t hard to find anywhere in America.

“Not so different,” she tells him honestly, “though there were fewer eyebrow piercings. I like it here, though, it’s… comfortable,” she adds with a sip of her drink and a tilt of her head. 

It is comfortable, despite the blaring music and the crowd of people talking over one another, because about a third of the bar’s patrons are vampires; she’s used to walking into a room full or half full of them and sighing involuntarily, the weight lifting from her shoulders when she doesn’t have to work as hard not to read the cacophony of their minds.

“That’s an interesting word,” Eric says, eyes roaming over her face. A pretty young waitress in a minuscule black dress steps up beside him, then, and places another martini on the table for Cam. She smiles up at Eric, who does not acknowledge her, and walks away before Cam can thank her for the drink. “On the house,” he tells her, and though she’s only half finished with the one she purchased, she lifts the glass and takes a long sip to show her gratitude.

“Thank you. And thank you for inviting me,” she adds, and when she looks up to meet his gaze she feels that mysterious pull again, then a faint buzzing like white noise on a television screen, or her ears popping at high altitude. “That’s you,” she says slowly, reality dawning on her, and though his features are frozen in surprise, she can see something curious shift in the set of his eyes. 

“Pardon?” 

“Sorry, I—I appreciate the drink, but I already know what you want from me. You want to know if I’m like her.” If I can hear what the humans are thinking, she doesn’t say, but she knows he understands. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’ll admit I am curious about that, but it’s not the only reason I invited you.” It feels like he’s telling the truth, but she’s still unfamiliar with him, and she’s met several vampires she believed to be honest until they showed their true colors at the end. The only reason humans don’t have the same effect is because she can hear their lies before they have a chance to really develop.

“Then why did you invite me?” she asks firmly, because while she’s not ashamed of her ability she does not enjoy being singled out for it, no matter how good looking the other party may be. Eric pauses, then sighs as though she’s forcing him to show his hand.

“I’ve looked into you. Heard about your reputation,” he says, and he takes another long look at her, lingering over her bare shoulders and throat. “You don’t look like a human rights—excuse me, people’s rights—attorney, I have to admit… unless I’ve just been doing business with the wrong attorneys.”

She takes another sip of his drink, because he’s done his due diligence and she’s always appreciative of someone who isn’t afraid to dig through some tough sources. Her firm had never exactly publicized the fact that one of their lawyers was taking vampire rights cases, so he must have pulled some strings to get the information. 

“I was a people’s rights attorney. Now I’d be lucky to try a case in traffic court.”

“Because of your defense of vampires?” he asks, and she can understand why that’s the way he’d see it; she didn’t defend them, technically, because they weren’t and still aren’t able to be held accountable in a court of law, but she did advocate for their civil rights and against forced assimilation.

“Because I don’t treat vampires like animals or humans like they’re superior,” she offers in summary. She taps a finger against the tabletop. “Say I was like her. What would that mean for me? Would you threaten me until I agree to help you? Manipulate me so I do what you want?” 

He sighs again, and this time it feels like an attempt to appear wounded by her question, though she can’t imagine there’s anything she could say to cause this man any type of emotional concern.

“I would ask if you would be interested in doing some… consulting for me. You would be under no obligation to do so, of course,” he says, showing his palms. “Sookie has helped me in the past, but she does not seem interested in continuing that relationship.” 

His contrived description of their relationship forces a huffed laugh from Cam’s lips.

“You instigate problems between her and Bill – or Bill and you, and it puts her in the middle. That’s why she’s not interested.” 

“Is that what she told you?” he asks, leaning in again, this time on crossed forearms. It brings his face closer, and despite her irritation, she kind of likes it. He’s not bad to look at, either way. “I tend to think of myself as a problem solver, if anything.” She leans in too, as much as she can, looks him directly in the eyes.

“I’m familiar with vampires like you—men like you. Everything’s a pissing contest, you’ll do whatever it takes to assert your dominance, and nothing else matters.” If he’s surprised by her assumptions, he doesn’t show it. “Sookie is my family and she has my loyalty. Flirt with her if you want to, that's your prerogative, but I’m not going to stand around and watch you toy with her to get under Bill’s skin. I’m sure you can find a way to do that all on your own.” 

He stands tall at that, brow furrowed like she’s just said something insane. 

“I don’t flirt with her, I just… enjoy exposing Bill’s weakness,” he explains with a shrug. Cam hums, unconvinced, takes the toothpick out of her glass and pulls the single olive off the stick with her teeth, eats it.

“Like all men, I can promise you he has more than just the one,” she says with a smirk when she’s finished chewing, and she downs the rest of her drink in one smooth sip. “That kid’s underage, by the way—the one by the bar with the pink streak in her hair? One of your bouncers didn’t do a very thorough ID check. She’s been freaking out about it since she walked in.” 

Eric turns to glance at the girl, who is saying nothing aloud but does look almost comically on edge, and then back at Cam. She smiles politely, her professional smile, and stands, pushing in her chair and slinging her bag over her shoulder. 

“I’ll think about the offer, if you think about what I said. Thanks again for the drink.”

[c3stlav1e]

ALL-AMERICAN BITCH! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ THE PRE-RELEASE SINGLE

All-American Bitch! is the first pre-release single by Mari Bang off of her upcoming album Cherry Pie. The song was released by MGM Records in partnership with Rainbow Entertainment on June 4th, 2024.

This single was Mari's most controversial release to date, for several reasons, including the timing of the release and the subject matter of the song. Fans on all sides of the issue were at each other's throats online, yet the girls involved were largely silent on the issue, only adding fuel to the fire. But as they say, any publicity is good publicity, and all the buzz surrounding the song only made it that much more successful. The song peaked at number 7 on the Billboard Hot 100, while also charting in over 10 other countries, including South Korea.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ i. the music video

♡ . The music video opens with a pristinely blonde Mari waking up in the morning, stretching and climbing out of bed almost cartoonishly perfect in Coca-Cola can curlers and a silk nightgown. As she sings the beginnings of the first verse, we see her getting ready in the mirror, spraying her curls with hairspray and touching up perfect red lips. She's depicted as the perfect housewife, 1950s style. She's lounging about her house, reading magazines, popping berries in her mouth, and sipping from perspiring glass Coke bottles (Mari earned a brand deal with Coke for this video, and it's a bit painfully obvious throughout the video). However, as the song carries on, picking up it's pop-rock tones, Mari begins to get more and more manic. Instead of cooking and cleaning like your typical housewife, she's destroying the house, knocking over furniture and smashing vases, even taking a hammer to the vintage-looking TV in the living room running a Coca-Cola ad with her own face pictured. As the bridge builds, she's seen aggressively eating a cherry pie with her hands, running the bright red filling down her cheeks and over her face as she screams, sitting on the linoleum kitchen floor. As the song comes to a slower close, we see her wandering through the mess she's made, an unsettling smile on her face, until the last note where she runs her messy, cherry-red fingers across the camera lens, blurring the scene from view.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ii. the styling

♡ . heavily vintage americana inspired

♡ . red, white, and blue, ruffles, lace, bows, gingham, short and sweet

♡ . she's here to bring back real coquette!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ iii. the highlights

♡ . whew! this one was divisive!

♡ . the controversy started when the single was announced only 2 days after the announcement of la vie's new album... and the release date was set for only 3 days after the album's release date...

♡ . fans were immediately thrown off by this and even some loyal mari stans were questioning the timing

♡ . it only got worse when the day of la vie's release, mari announced the upcoming release of her own album

♡ . of course, it was all stan twitter could talk about, even non-kpoppies and non-lovies were choosing sides

♡ . then, when the song actually released, everyone had an opinion on it

♡ . k-netz and k-lovies were furious over the title, claiming she was disregarding her korean heritage and beginning her career in kpop

♡ . while certain people in the western media believed she couldn't possibly dub herself "all-american" when she's still essentially just a kpop girl

♡ . in an interview with teen vogue for her summer cover spread, she had this to say:

♡ . "i know, it's ridiculous! i'm too korean for america and too american for korea? i don't understand why i have to pick a side when in my heart, i'm equally both. it's like they're proving the point of the song even more. clearly i'm not perfect, and this society only makes that more suffocating. just let me be me!"

♡ . she appeared on several live shows to promote her single release and her upcoming album including jimmy kimmel, good morning america, and snl

♡ . in her appearance on snl, she appeared in 2 sketches, one as a middle school chorus kid, and one with bowen yang spoofing how native english-speaking kpop idols are treated in the states ("wow, your english is so good!")

♡ . she made her first music festival appearance on day 2 at gov ball!

♡ . she made quick friends with both sabrina carpenter and tyla, featuring in each other's instagram posts from the event as well

♡ . despite all the controversy among fans regarding her relationship with the other members of la vie, she never made any statement regarding the topic

♡ . she did mention the members casually in her teen vogue interview, although very briefly

♡ . many were left wondering why the sudden coldness after it seemed everything was good again during their previous comeback?

♡ . despite the divisiveness, this single release was very successful for her and only bodes even better for the upcoming release of her 3rd album, cherry pie !

[jungle-angel]

His Little Doodlebug (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: There's a damn good reason you gave Amy the nickname "Doodlebug"

Rhett had always had a deep love-hate relationship with Wal Mart in the month of August. Usually you would go and take Amy on a little excursion by yourself while Rhett and Royal ran down to Tractor Supply to get parts for the neighbors' farming equipment, but ever since you had gotten pregnant, that task had fallen on Rhett while Wes, his best friend, had decided to help Royal.

Amy hurried off towards the clothing section, her little sandals flapping against the tiled floor with her little circus-clown ragdoll tucked under her arm. "Hey, slow down there Doodlebug," Rhett called after her.

Amy giggled, excited as ever as Rhett pushed the cart that already had a few extra garden things in it. He didn't really have much of an idea about what kinds of clothes would be the best fit for Amy, but he was damn sure gonna try.

It was a whole back and forth mess of texting you pictures of all the clothes he could find that hadn't already been cleared out, little pairs of shorts with the lace trim around the legs, pretty little gingham dresses in pink, blue, yellow, green, orange, purple and red, plenty of jeans and little sweaters that would serve her well in late fall and early winter. However, what you knew you couldn't get in the store, you'd make by hand which would include plenty of Irish knit sweaters for Amy and the new babies.

"Hey!" Rhett called playfully to Amy as she zoomed from one end of the aisle and back to him. "Don't you run from me Doodlebug."

Amy giggled again. "Can we get more clothes Daddy?"

"Not right now Doodlebug," Rhett told her. "We've still gotta go to the other place and get your other stuff for school."

"No we don't," Amy giggled.

"Yeah we do, you're goin into preschool at the hippie school where Momma teaches," Rhett told her.

Amy held onto her ragdoll with one hand and her other one gripping the beltloop of Rhett's jeans with her little fingers. As soon as the clothes and the plant stuff had been purchased, Rhett loaded Amy and the bags up into the truck to head for the next destination.

Back into the center of town he went with Amy in tow, to the little shop owned by Mrs. Newman, who in turn would be Amy's preschool teacher. You and Rhett absolutely loved her store and all the supplies she carried, the cozy building with its knotty pine floors, shelves full of yarn, brightly colored wools, stones, books, pastel colored cloth and a whole host of other things that the children at the school you taught at would need for the coming year.

Two boxes of block crayons, a little case of beeswax and a basket of wool later, Rhett finally had what he needed and even let Amy pick a few items for later. He thanked Mrs. Newman, promising that over the weekend he, Royal and Wes would be down to help her husband fix his horse trailer.

Home he went and finally pulled up the driveway just as the sun had begun to set. Wes's truck was no longer there, a sign that he had gone back over the hill to the reservation to bed down his own horses and cattle for the night, yet the porch light had remained on. Royal and Cecelia would most likely be sitting out in the porch rockers, Royal smoking a hand rolled cigar while Cecelia told him about everything that had happened in the day.

"Alright sweet pea, out," Rhett said, opening the truck door so Amy could get out.

Amy practically jumped out of the truck and ran for the house, yanking open the door as Rhett unloaded the truck and kicked off his shoes in the mudroom. The house smelled so good with the steaks just having been pulled off the grill along with the smells of white rice and green beans trailing it its wake.

"Oh jeez! Somebody's happy," Cecelia chuckled as Amy rushed to hug her.

"I was hoping the trip would tire her out," Rhett answered. "Hannah-Banana go to bed?"

"Nope," Cecelia answered. "She just ate, but I'll give her a bath in a few minutes."

"Thanks Ma," Rhett said, hugging his mother.

Cecelia took the clothing and supplies from him to put them away while he made Amy a plate full of steak, rice and green beans for her to eat before her bath.

Upstairs he went to his room, which had become your shared bedroom. Even though you were only five months along, you had already begun nesting, preparing the crib at the foot of the bed for the two little boys resting in your belly.

Rhett wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheek, his hands coming to rest on your swollen bump. "Boys give you any trouble?" he asked.

You hummed, delighted by the warm breath on your cheek. "Not really," you sighed.

You two were yanked from the moment by the sound of Amy running through the upstairs hall in nothing but her pink wrap towel. "Daddy, can I use Momma's bubble bath?"

You two laughed and shook your heads. "Give Momma a minute honey," you told her.

Amy zoomed back into the bathroom as the bathtub filled up. You grabbed the pink grapefruit bubble bath out of the medicine cabinet and poured a little bit of the slimy pink liquid in for her and watched it foam.

"Guess someone had a bad case of the zoomies tonight," you laughed.

"Yep," Rhett answered. "Guess that's why we call her 'Doodlebug'."

[rafecameronsslxt]

Dahlia

Soft! Rafe Cameron x Reader (Name Drop twice- Amerie)

Synopsis: Rafe surprises you with a romantic time in a field of flowers.

Warnings: Cute fluff

A/N: I have never been so busy in my life, so I have to get something out.

Masterlist

“Rafe Cameron, where are we going?” Amerie inquired playfully sternly with a soft smile. You refused to leave the bed unless Rafe told you about his planned surprise. “We are… going out to dinner.” He leans down and kisses you just for him to pick you up by your waist, positioning your body to the walk-in closet. “Fine, fine. What am I wearing to this supposed dinner, baby?” 

   “You’re going to want a soft look and THOSE.” Rafe points to the costly butterfly heels you haven’t dared to wear because there hasn’t been an event to wear them to. Lavender silk and each thread are embroidered, creating a garden-like look, but the IT factor is the pastel lavender leather and lining, along with the two butterflies placed on each heel. You start to protest, but he quickly moves on to the clothing.

   You pick out a puffed sleeve that laces in the front and a sweetheart neckline paired with a pastel pink and light black skirt forming a Gingham pattern as two tasteful little slits are at the bottom. 

   Amerie twirls for Rafe, who is more than satisfied with the outfit that completely fits his desired aesthetic. “How come you’re not dressed so fancy because you seem to be a fashionista nowadays.” You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to your face until your lips are meters away. “I’m hard just looking at you.” He lays his hand on your cheek, caressing your pale cheeks with the pad of his thumb. Your lips turn to a large grin, and start giggling. “Are you ready, Cameron?” You peck his red lips. Rafe grabs a bookbag, stuffing a camera, water, and two pairs of sunglasses, one black pair of Ray Bands and the other white Chanel sunglasses with pearls on the sides. Right, because we wear sunglasses while eating… How normal.

   “Close your eyes, baby.” You close your eyes as the truck stops and wait for Rafe to help you out of his car. He interlaces your hands together, and a floral smell comes about, strong too. “Open.” He whispers.

   A flower field filled with every flower possible. “You remembered!” He nods, smiling wholeheartedly at your happiness. You grazed over the subject one night of wanting to have a romantic time with Rafe in a field of flowers and take pictures. The scenery is better than the pictures. The blinding orange sun, squinting up at the pink and orange cloudless sky, blended as if a professional had come to swipe the colours across to contrast with the dark trees behind the field of wildflowers, tulips, sunflowers, and Lilies, but your favourite blossom was missing. A Dahlia, specifically an ombre of white to pastel orange, makes it extremely hard to spot among the other bright oranges.

   “Sweetheart,” Rafe shouted for you though he was halfway across the field from you. He’s holding the exact flower. You squeal, running wobbly in your heels. He snaps a few photos, and you give him your best pouty face for it. “I love you.” You then realize his shirt is off and glide your delicate hands over his abdomen. “I love you too, my ethereal girl.” He grins compassionately into the chaste kiss.