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eddiernunson · 2 years

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Trapped | Eddie Munson | Part 7 | 18+

Previous Part | Master Post | Next Part

[The next part will be out by end of February]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Warnings: Several instances of unprotected P in V sex, (wrap it up), public sex, if you squint (or close your eyes, really) there's public humiliation?, daddy kink continues, and mentions of sex but i dont describe the actual scenes. They get high together, and I basically just describe the first time I got high. (if you want to skip, it doesn't affect the story.) Wholesome mentions include a family dinner with Wayne, get together with all the friends excluding the Byers first I love you, and just everyday musings.

Author's Note: Christmas and January kicked my ASS. I had an inkling of what to do but no literal layout until like Friday. I apologize for this terribly inconsistent posting schedule and there will be a much smaller chapter posted by the 28th. I'm uber excited after the next chapter cause then we're all caught up and my plan is to write the season with the character written in (My goal from the beginning.) I just wanna note I don't ship Mike and Will, because I think Will deserves better. I think it's clear where Mike's priorities lie, and it's not with him.

MINORS DNI for the smut. Seriously. Please.

This should not be this weird.

You stared at the sides of the VHS tapes, organizing the metal bin of discounted vintage tapes. Your right pinky delicately moving the furthest tape up and down, rotating lightly. You were working in silence on November 1st, 1985, a quiet evening in Family Video the day after a Halloween that seemed to cause a big ruckus in Hawkins.

While Steve’s party usually ended up in numerous hangovers and regrets, today it was as if the entirety of Hawkins felt the dreary, murky feeling in the atmosphere. This Halloween just hit different.

That might’ve just been you though, waking up in Steve’s bed in-between him and your boyfriend. You flashback to the night before, and Steve’s brown eyes looking up at you between your legs hits you like a freight train. When Eddie wakes up, he only sees Steve, wondering downstairs to see you perched cross legged on Steve’s couch next to a jock that fell asleep with his hips on the arm rest.

“You okay?” He asks, reaching out to comfort you.

You look up at him, wide eyed and worried. “Did I have-” you look around to see if anyone is awake and continue, “did I have a really, really vivid dream last night?”

Eddie laughs. “Dunno, did you want it to go on longer last night?”

You feel your cheeks heat up; you bite back a smile that creeps onto your face. “Fuck.” Your hand goes up to your forehead in disbelief. “You’re okay with it?”

“Okay with it?” Eddie laughs scooching his tiny waist in between you and the jock. “Princess, I instigated it. I could’ve told him to fuck off. I didn’t. I asked him to join.” Eddie chuckled. “I was already enchanted by your amazing pussy,” you looked around anxiously when he said this too loud, “but Harrington just looked so good. Weird, since he was Peter fucking Pan.”

“Oh. Okay.” You state dumbly.

You sat with him on the couch for another half hour, neither of you quite ready to go back to the real world. As you were held on tight in a hug with him, sat on his lap, you see the party king making his way down the stairs, now in pajamas and his hair damp from a shower.

Subconsciously your body turns to face your boyfriend and your heart is the only thing you can hear and feel. You vaguely hear Harrington’s voice from the next room. “Mornin! Sleep well, you alcoholics?”

Eddie retorts with something you were sure was witty as he was but all you can think of is getting out of the house so you can stop over thinking it. “Hey, I’m feeling pretty hungover can we go?” You ask Eddie, feeling guilty about talking in a way so Steve wouldn’t hear you.

Eddie looks taken aback by your request; his brown eyes noticeably confused. “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure Harrington will have a concoction to help with that if you need it.”

You wiggle closer to him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m feeling shy,” you whisper, an uncontrollable smile crept onto your face.

“Shy?” Eddie asks, feigning ignorance.

“I have wondered for ages what that would’ve been like, and I knew it would never happen because neither of us were interested in each other the way Nance and Steve once were. It was harmless curiosity.” You pause when it sounded like Steve was on his way to the living room. “Now it’s a bizarre reality and I have no idea how to-how to be around him. Let me avoid him until I see him at work tonight.”

Eddie stared at you wordlessly, a reaction you’ve seen on him only a handful of times. The times would be when his club members are saying something and it’s just so wild to him, he can barely contain it. “Um, sweetheart. You could just talk to him now.”

“Please?” You ask, tilting your head and doe-ing your eyes up.

“You’re lucky you’re so pretty.” He mutters, getting off the couch in a graceful leap. “Alright. Go grab your shit and I will make something up.”

You run back up to Steve’s room, eyes avoiding the bed as you search the sunlit room for your costume’s accessories, Eddie’s wings and halo he ripped off in his drunken haze. You run back down the stares, Eddie already putting on his leather jacket you hadn’t noticed he had placed on the coat hanger the night before.

“Sure ya can’t stay?” You hear Steve’s voice what felt like right in your ear and the crook of your neck. To be fair, he wasn’t quite that close to you, your senses just felt heightened. Your stunted reaction of jerking back both amused and confused the hell out of your boyfriend, though. You turn to face Steve, something you’d hoped to avoid. Unfortunately, a combined trauma and three years of casual acquaintanceship that lead into friendship meant Steve knew when something was off. He didn’t say anything about it. “I make a mean hangover cure.”

“I feel like shit, and we still have work tonight. I’m going to take a minute and rest.” My ass needs it, you thought, wondering what the collective response would’ve been if you said it. “I’ll see you later.” You give him your best attempt at a natural smile, to which Steve gives a huh look over you to Eddie when you turn away to the door. Eddie shrugs, laying his arm around your shoulder.

Now, here you are, no choice but to face Steve as he hovered around you as the loud silence of your nails ticking against the plastic covers deafened your ears. You came into work, barely making it after a short nap to wallow in your anxiety with your mom calling upstairs when she had realized you haven’t gotten up for work yet. Steve hung onto you like a magnet as soon as you bolted in, letting you know there’s loads of tapes to return after he rewound most of them and he’ll need your help.

You saw right through him of course, but you agreed with your most convincing smile and avoided his brown eyes staring a hole into your head. Though, an hour into your shift it seems he had enough. “Ok, cut the shit. What’s wrong?”

The harsh tone behind his words startled you into looking him in the eyes for the first time since making fun of Robin with him towards the end of the night when she couldn’t wrap her head around it. Your mouth moved to speak, and you backed out last minute, looking back down to your task at hand. Lots of horror movies returned, you noted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shit. Your voice wavered through that; you were unconvincing even to yourself.

Suddenly Steve’s green vest over a dark pink loose shirt tucked into his jeans was in your direct line of sight, hands on his hips, sporting a reprimanding look he usually saves for Dustin. “Seriously. Look at me.”

You look up, guilt evaded your brain as the genuine concern was displayed on his face.

“Did you not want-?” Steve asks, and it doesn’t even occur to you he’d be worried about this.

“It’s not that.” You shake your head hurriedly. “I promise. I knew what was happening and agreed wholeheartedly.”

“Then why the cold shoulder?” He asks, his voice softer and laying his hand on your arm, soothing with his thumb. You look down at it, fixated on how gentle he was. “Y/N. You’re going to have to answer me eventually. I will sit here for the rest of your shift don’t test me.”

Your eyes went back up to his face, and it felt like your anxiety bubbled to a stop. “I’m worried.” You start, moving to lift another VHS tape back until Steve stops you so you can focus on him. “I used to wonder what it might’ve been like on the occasion that I would hear a rumour or two and I figured it wouldn’t happen on the idea that sometimes you become too close to someone. I didn’t think it was a mutual notion.”

“You’re very wrong about that, go on.” Steve mentions casually.

“I-ok.” You pause, the sentence repeating itself in your mind. “I was afraid it would be different. I don’t want it to be. How do I interact with you knowing what I now know?” You glance at him; he seems bewildered by your thought process. “I overthink everything. I’ve never done anything like that, and I don’t know how to be normal.”

“Darling. You don’t think. Just do. I won’t judge you for what I heard before I joined, during, the aftermath. If I did, I wouldn’t have such a great reputation about it.” He takes his hand off yours, returning to work. “I will you treat you normal. It might take you a minute, but you’ll get into the swing of it. Avoiding me might’ve just made it worse though.”

Your eyes rolled at him, already feeling better that Steve was willing to go back to normal. “I am shy!” You claim, putting more Friday the 13th movies away.

Steve couldn’t hold back. “That’s not what you said last-” He didn’t even finish- you didn’t let him. You whacked him with a VHS, admittedly a little too hard. Steve ran off, giggling like a mad man towards to where Robin was rewinding the last of the tapes.

Wait, what did Steve hear before he joined? “Steve!”

A happy blissful two weeks passed by, a World Geography test you both crammed for during a night that ended up with you bent over his dresser, and nights spent with the Hellfire club and him finally convincing you to play in occasionally. After Dustin and Mike spend the two weeks grovelling and bothering Eddie, eventually you, Dustin, Mike, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, Steve, Max, and Lucas are all downstairs at the Wheelers with a game of Catan in front of you.

How the hell Dustin Henderson manages to convince people to play games like this is beyond you. It was beyond Eddie as well, complaining on the way over to the Wheelers’ residence. “I don’t know how the kid convinces so many people to do play board games with him. I have spent years building my recruitment skills. How the hell does he do it?”

You laugh, pulling yourself out of a soft gravity of bliss you were feeling as he held your hand and sang along quietly to the soft rock on the radio. “Mostly through bribing and relentless begging. It only works on people who find him somewhat amusing. You should see him attempt to recruit outside of the circle. It’s a nightmare.”

“Still though.” He pauses, thumbs drumming against the beat on his steering wheel. “He’s got the makings of a great Hellfire Club leader.”

“Don’t tell him that.” You say, shifting in the fabric seats as you turn the final corner to the Wheelers. “The kid worships you. Plus, if you offered him the spot then told him you’re taking the throne I think he’d riot.”

Eddie laughs, lifting his hand to your face to frame it fondly and stares at you for a moment too long considering he was still driving. The look you have always wanted to see him staring at you with was well worth it. “No, he’s also just more knowledgeable than some members who have been going to the club for years. I think it just makes sense.”

“When are you planning on telling him this? I’m pretty sure he’s been plotting and campaigning for taking over your role since the end of September.” You comment, remembering the plotting of him with an exasperated Steve Harrington at Family Video one night.

“I’m waiting to see what he gets me for Christmas.” Eddie laughs, signalling to turn into the driveway.

It seems the two of you were fashionably late, coming down to a basement full of teenagers waiting impatiently. “Finally!” Dustin exclaims, ripping out the boardgame as soon as you were in sight.

“Busy were ya?” Robin asks, a side smirk on her face.

Actually, you were. It is not your fault your boyfriend is relentlessly horny at the worse times. It was hard not to self consciously adjust your hair, wondering if something gave it away. The sharp memory of Eddie straight up grabbing your pussy when you told him there was no time yet feeling large wet spot that has been looming on your panties from watching him practice on his guitar while listening to some music. “I knew you were fucking horny. C’mon bend over for me, we only have a few minutes to make us both cum.”

The silence following Robin’s cheeky accusation was enough to accidentally confirm. “Blame him.” You point, letting go of his hand and laughing at the look of betrayal across his face. A portion of the group laugh out loud, Dustin and Mike mimicking gagging.

Dustin lays out the game, distributes the pieces appropriately and explains the rules. Mike’s family owns the Settler version of Catan, a game that requires trading and early colonialism. It takes a few times for you and Steve to understand the rules and basic concept, but the game gets heated quickly.

Remember, the two eldest Wheelers, Eddie, Steve, Dustin, and Max are all in the same game. This was doomed from the start. You, Lucas, and Robin are pretty much in it for the drama by the half point when you all collectively realized none of you were going to win. Instead, you three started instigating more drama.

Dustin and Max were in the middle of arguing about how she supposedly betrayed the alliance they made. Max is asking where the written contract was, and Dustin claims it was in her word. Meanwhile, though they were separated because of their inability to get along, it somehow made it worse with them arguing across the table after Nancy interjected the road Mike has built. Eddie has gotten himself into a heated argument with Steve, turns out both were after the limited recourse that was clay. You wished that Dustin had thought this through a bit more because you didn’t think this version of Catan was built for these many players.

Steve yells loud enough to make every other argument die, cutting into the amused glance you and Lucas were exchanging. “Ok! We gotta figure this shit out. Eddie. You gotta give me the clay. It was obvious that was my goal first.”

“Oh. You want the clay?” Eddie asks, starting to pick up pieces he had on the board. Uh oh. You don’t know how but you saw this coming from a mile away. “Here! Take it!” Eddie starts throwing them to Steve, he rapid fires them at him, taking no time between each fling.

The individuals surrounding you were a mixture of laughter and annoyance, most of them were both. You could barely pay attention to it, there was this a of emotion in you, your breath hitched sharply as you watched him start to throw Nancy’s road, causing her to interject rather wildly. The realization hit you like a fire truck on the way to a fire across the state with ten minutes until the house burnt down.

Holy shit.

Holy shit you loved him.

You truly loved him.

Your heart rammed in its cage as the knowledge startles you into silence, still watching Eddie with a stupid grin on your face. For all intents and purposes, you were wholeheartedly in love with Eddie fucking Munson. You were waiting for this epiphany to hit you ever since the conversation you had with him in your kitchen at supper with your parents. The amount of phone calls the two of you had and you wanted to blurt it out despite the uncertainty of its truth was nearly overwhelming.

You smiled to yourself, watching as Dustin gets up to point Eddie to where you were sitting, informed he was now kicked out from this round and to sit down next to you so you could keep an eye on him. “Oh, come on! That’s so lame.”

“Think of it as revenge for all the times you doxed perception points for needing to piss, asshole.” Dustin yells a little too loudly.

“Dustin. Tone.” You remind him, noticing a certain trend in tone from him lately.

“Sorry.” He says towards you, understanding he needed to take it down a notch. “Dude. You threw pieces. Not cool. If I did that in D&D I would’ve been killed in a heartbeat.”

“Why do you think I’m a Master and not a player? I don’t have the patience for it.” Eddie laughs walking over to you.

He grabs a chair and places it right next to you, placing his arm around your shoulders. “You okay?” He asks, so close to you if you looked towards him, he would be too close to be in focus.

You let a wide smile spread across your face, the words attempting to bubble out of your mouth. You hold back. Not right now. “I’m great. I just didn’t realize you’d be so competitive.”

“I usually go for the clay because no one else does and it becomes a great asset in the end. I don’t know how Steve deducted that but sometimes I get carried away, you know.”

“I know, baby.” You laugh, Eddie squeezing your shoulder sharply in response.

The game ends with a surprise win from Robin, having suddenly getting into it once she put the rules and noticed certain strategies, she was tired of quietly communicating to her best friend and him ignoring her gesturing. Robin might’ve been terribly awkward at times, but she knew strategy. It worked for her. Dustin pretended to bow down as you all applauded her success, Robin yelling triumphantly in the centre with friends scattered around her in an incomplete circle. You were leant back into Eddie, watching Dustin ask her, nearly hound her on how she managed to do it.

You didn’t even notice the content smile on your face, Eddie kissing into your temple. You leaned into him, enveloping his lips into yours, feeling a whiff of emotion as you tried to silently express the emotions you felt earlier to him.

“You guys are gross.” You hear Max claim, hearing her approach the couch behind you.

The two of you look to her, and Lucas is right next to her, his arm around her tentatively. “Call it what you want. Would you rather us be fighting all the time like my parents?” Eddie asks, grabbing your hand.

“Oh god no.” Max mutters, memories of her fighting parents flashing before her eyes. “You’re just sickeningly cute. I mean me and Lucas kiss but not nearly as cavity inducing as the two of you.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “If you don’t want cavities, you can look away at any given moment. Also don’t think the two of you aren’t cavity inducing as well. You’re adorable, kids. Own it.”

Max’s face scrunches at being called adorable, Lucas looking at her fondly. If Max could only see how this boy stared at her when she wasn’t looking you wondered if she would be so inclined to dump him like she did. Max gulped, smiling half heartedly. You could tell there was something on her mind, yet Dustin and Lucas had both already voiced their concerns and she loudly dismissed it. You’ve been keeping an eye on her, wondering how she was holding up.

Ever perceptive, Max narrows her eyes as to pointedly wonder why you were staring. You stick her tongue out at her, deflecting the act of being caught. Max’s blue eyes roll in response. Lucas is talking to her, his voice soft enough to where you couldn’t make out what he was saying, though you probably weren’t supposed to hear it based on Max’s visible blush and a smile she tries to hold back.

Your attention flips back to Eddie, and you wonder how you’re going to tell him. What if he wasn’t ready to say it yet?

Funnily enough, Eddie Munson, too wrapped up in admiring you and successfully zoning out the argument over the game that is still happening, was wondering the same thing. He had this epiphany when you two went for a drive last week. You were singing Take on Me, a newer song you haven’t quite gotten the lyrics quite down and failed to reach the higher notes, resulting in Eddie barely holding back in his laughter, you are calling him mean before you join him.

While your voice cracked through your high notes, your chin lifted and eyes closed as you gave it a good hard try, he looked over to you, the epiphany hitting him much softer than yours hit you. Yours took the wind out of you, his was as if a butterfly landed on him and kissed him to bless him with it. The last key change with the completely wrong note that escaped your lungs with a screech brought him into laughter.

“Baby. That was amazing. I haven’t heard anyone that off key since Jeff attempted the operatic section of Bohemian Rhapsody.” He laughs grabbing your hand. The words were on the tip of his tongue. He felt them in his throat, threatening to climb out without his permission. Though he had a feeling this was not the moment.

Now, eyes full adoration for you as you carefully weave your pointer finger through his somewhat unruly curls, he was wondering when the best time would be. The words felt stuck in his throat, burning with a desire to crawl out. He felt somewhat worried they would leave without his permission one night, the want to say it between classes or a late-night phone call. He’s been waiting somewhat impatiently for you to say it.

However, your brain has convinced itself he’s not ready for it yet and he would look at you with pity if you had confessed it now.

So, it would still be another two weeks before either one of you confessed.

While Robin isn’t competitive, she is not above bragging. Her intelligence that seems to make up for her lack of knowledge of social cues is made up in strategy and analytics. Usually, you and Robin are making side eyed glances at one another at work, but today you find being a lone sane ranger in what felt like a wilderness of absolute madness. Were you drugged by the Russians again? In another game of D&D that had no curfew due to a long weekend? (Thanksgiving was next week, anyway.)

No, just a bragging Robin Buckley and a salty Steve Harrington.

You were manning the front desk, avoiding them as they were actually driving you crazy for once. Off to the side, they were arguing over changing up the display. You had only heard bits and pieces of their conversation, only enough to understand the gist of what this argument was about. “Well, how do you know my idea isn’t better, huh?”

“Cause my strategy actually won, that’s how!” Robin shoots back without missing a single beat.

Steve yells in frustration, and without any warning he places a nicely toned arm around your shoulder. “Can you please ask Robin to cut it out” he asks, yelling the last three words of his sentence.

“I don’t understand how this is my problem. I didn’t play in the game.” You say, shrugging out of his arm to make yourself clear you’re not on either side of their petty argument.

“You brought the shit disturber!” Steve shouts, gesturing to the door as if Eddie was about to appear at the mention of his name.

Looking over, you hoped he was there to save you from this annoyance. No such luck, Uncle Wayne had stolen him for the night.

You look back to face Steve, the annoyance and disappointment clear on your face. “What Eddie does while playing games is not in my control. If I thought I could control what he does playing anything, you think we would’ve gotten along so easily?” The side of his mouth quirks up for a second, internally laughing and agreeing with you.

He couldn’t show that to you, of course. “Whatever, just have better control over your boyfriend next time. That way I won’t fucking lose.”

“Sure, Steve. It was Eddie’s fault you lost. Let’s say that.” You comment sarcastically, nodding along.

“HAH!” Robin yells from where she and Steve were arguing. Oops. You may have accidentally taken sides.

The arguments don’t die down. By the end of it, you were mentally exhausted from all of it. The Sunday night seemed to droll on, the busiest days for returns but the slowest for renters. After rewinding all the returns and straight up ignoring your coworkers, Steve locks up the store and you walk away from their continued arguments. How the hell did they never get tired of arguing? No wonder you thought they were together, fuck.

As you pull in, you notice a familiar van down the street. No shit.

The front door enters, and your mom comes up to you with a look of kindness as she can tell you were exhausted. Your brain barely registers it, the idea of Eddie being upstairs enough to settle at least a small percentage of your nerves. “Hi, sweetheart. Your supper and a guest are upstairs.”

Your eyes open wide, knowing Eddie parks down the block when he wants to sneak in without the parentals knowing.

“He fell off your bed. Tell him he can use the damn door.” She comments as you start to run up the stairs to your room to avoid the look your mom is giving you.

You open your door, Eddie on your bed cross legged in a pair of plaid pajamas and an old band t-shirt, watching the door in what can be only described as fear.

A beat.

“You fell off my bed?” You ask, your backpack falling off your shoulder as you drop your car keys on the floor.

“Oops?” Eddie asks, face in an odd mix of fear and humour. “In my defense, I have shit balance and I’m impressed I haven’t eaten shit while climbing through your window before.”

Your head tilts. “You did it crawling through the window?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Not my finest moment, your mom caught me halfway back out the window.”

You huff, hand landing onto your forehead. Shit, you really loved him.

“Your mom said we have until midnight.”

“See, this is what happens when you don’t wait until I’m home.” You would never tell your mom, and the only others that do know are Nancy and Robin, but Eddie has been spending one or two nights a week spending the night at your house. Uncle Wayne knew that your parents don’t know, but Eddie is 20, you’re 18, he didn’t see the big deal.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t wait until my smoking girlfriend got home.” Eddie puts his hands up, turning it on you. “My bad. I’ll try to hide my charming enthusiasm for you for now on.”

You roll your eyes and fling the shirt you had just taken off to his face. “Hey now! I need to see the goods! You can’t hide them from me!” Eddie runs low into you, like his imitation of a gremlin. “Show me the goods!”

The laughter you fail to hold in bubbles out, and you can’t imagine what your parents must be thinking. Although Eddie sneaking in has become a common practice for the two of you, you still feel anxious as shit until you know they’re in their bedroom asleep.

He can feel you’re still anxious and grabs your cheeks into his hands. “Anxious?”

You nod, still amazed you have the luxury of seeing his brown eyes this close. How was it legal they were so damn pretty?

“Uh,” your breath hitches, and you realize you weren’t breathing. “Mmhm.”

Eddie smirks, and you became afraid of what crossed his mind.

You had a right to be.

“What,” he asks, leaning in. You had hoped he was leaning in to kiss you, but he flies passed your lips and to your ear, “is my pretty girl afraid her parents will hear her being a slut?”

You gulp, your heart beating faster. You can feel the heat of your core getting warmer by the second. Words escape your mind all the sudden, so you nod.

“I mean they were bound to hear it one day,” Eddie chuckles, putting a well thought out hand onto your hip, the thumb rubbing purposely.

Your gulp is audible, Eddie nods in understanding, as if your protest was enough for him to take pity on you, for now. “Okay, maybe not today. But pretty baby does want to, right?”

Your head shakes fast, nodding vigorously. “Yes. Definitely.”

Eddie’s head jerks back, a shit eating grin on his face. “Okay. We’ll wait until 10, their bedtime.”

You tilt your head to see around his body that had backed you up against the wall to the alarm clock on your bedside table. It was 7:08. Three hours. You lean back in, the expression of not wanting to wait so long clear on your face. “Huh?”

“You said you didn’t want them to hear you. C’mon. I wanna show you an evil plot I have formed. I need a new opinion that won’t convince me not to do something just because their character wouldn’t survive it.” Eddie says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bed, previous talk seemingly forgotten about.

“Then I have to cover the goods.” You respond, realizing you were still half undressed. You run to your dresser, grabbing a pair of shorts and one of his shirts. If he was going to tease you, you could very much do the same. Eddie had made it clear shortly after Halloween short shorts and a shirt of his was a weakness of his.

Two can play that game.

The anticipation was ruthless and unfair for the both of you. Eddie showed you his notes from the fantasy novels he had checked out from the library and how he had planned to use it in the campaign for this upcoming week, and your legs and the smell of your perfume was just intoxicating to him. The slight shift of his eyes moving from his notes down to your legs consistently was enough to make you feel smug.

It was about 9:30, your textbooks out and working on some long question answers together. You were genuinely attempting to some work, seeming as you might as well if you have the time and you need to make sure he still gets his shit done. “Okay, I can’t take it. Put on some damn pants.” Eddie tells you, only a few words on his paper and his pencil beside him.

“Nope. You started it. You made this bed. Sit in it.” You say, not even looking up from where you were writing.

“Fuck. You know I am absolutely going get you back for this, right?” Eddie asks, playing with his rings and flexing his fingers unnecessarily.

You intended to stay focused on your paper, knowing he was up to something. “I look forward to it.”

Eddie glances at the time. 9:35. Fuck. If he gave in early, then you would win. But if he gives in then he gets you. “Princess.” He mutters, and you look up. He crashes his lips onto yours, his mouth open and enveloping your lips into his.

You break from him. “I thought you were waiting until 10.”

“Oh, I am,” Eddie comments, hand soothing you wherever he can reach. “We can make out for twenty minutes. Just gotta keep your hands to yourself.”

“Can you keep your hands to yourself for twenty minutes?” You challenge him, a sly smile making its way onto your face. “You are quite handsy.”

You had him figured out; he finds himself challenged as you stare at him unblinkingly. But if you knew Eddie Munson, you knew he doesn’t back off from a challenge, even if he knew he was backed into a corner. Man doesn’t know how to admit he was wrong. “Can you?” He asks, turning it back onto you.

A smile breaks onto your face, genuine this time. You dramatically push both of your books and the papers off your bed. Eddie lifts his eyebrow at you quizzically. Though he was amused, he couldn’t help but admire how adorable you were. In response to Eddie’s raised eyebrow, you grabbed him by the shirt, yanking him down so the two of you are lying on your bed with Eddie on top of you. On the way down he let out a yelp out of surprise, chuckling as he found his footing and gripped your sheets.

Eddie leaned into you, not giving you any moment to register it. Off the bat you can feel yourself getting antsier, the way Eddie worked his tongue against yours driving the heat downward right into your core.

Slowly, you hear him breathing shallower and shallower. Your hands grabbed Eddie by the nape of his hairline, tugging on it lightly. Eddie lets out a sharp breath, giving you a dark look as he pulls back again.

A bubble of laughter escapes your mouth, despite trying to hold it back. “What? I just touched your hair.”

“Oh, is that the game we’re allowed to play?” Eddie asks, his tone of voice slightly scaring you. “I didn’t know we were allowed to play dirty.”

Eddie meets your mouth with more force now, as if he was doing his best to tug a breathy moan out of you. He leans back from you, using his thumb to tug your bottom lip down and open your mouth. He places the thumb inside, laying the pad of his thumb resting on your tongue. You instinctively start to suck on it, moving your tongue around it. His kisses move down, wet feeling of his tongue combined with your lips trailing down along your neck and into the crook where your neck and shoulder meet. His teeth make their way into the mix, starting to bite and nip and suck along your shoulder and collarbone.

This had brought on the feeling of ecstasy, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. “I thought-hmm” you stutter as Eddie works his tongue expertly against your skin. “I thought our hands were being kept to ourselves.”

Eddie gives an exceptionally strong suck on your collarbone, he looks up, lips kissed bruised and eyes wild as he looks up from his hard work. “Oh, my hands are being kept to myself. We said nothing about our lips.” You give a side-eye, your mind wondering if he was gonna go down on you then if he was so insistent on using his lips. He catches this, narrowing his eyes at you. “What?”

“Nothing.” You lie, unconvincingly.

“Noth-nothing?” Eddie stutters, placing his ringed hand into your hair. “That was not nothing. If I have learned anything about you, its to ask what look I see on your face right now.”

You giggle, feeling shy. “If you don’t keep your lips to yourself why stop at my collarbone?”

“Oh, you shithead.” Eddie mutters, one long lick from your nape to your ear. “You absolute brat.”

His hand leaves your hair and slides them up your arms to place his hands in yours, clutching your hands a tad harder than necessary and moving them above your head. It managed a small whine out of you, slightly wriggling around as his hands had you tied down. Eddie leans down to you, and you’re expecting the dirtiest kisses he can provide you. He gives you light tongue, barely letting you have a taste of the permanent weed that staycayed in his mouth.

His knee jerks forward into your cunt, and you let out a breathy gasp. “How are you feeling, sweetheart, hmm?”

You frown slightly in response, annoyed at his cheeky question. Eddie smiled, giving you a look of satisfaction. He opened his mouth to respond, and a noise down the hallway catches his attention.

Your parents’ door closing.

Eddie’s head snaps towards your clock, it displayed 10:06.

A dark smile is displayed across Eddie’s face, and he yanks himself off your bed and locks your door. His shirt hits the floor as he makes his way back to your bed and you can barely ask what’s going on when he leans back in to lay another kiss on you. “Baby.” He mutters, his hand starts up and down your legs, wasting little time.

“Hmm?” You ask, somewhat in a daze.

“It’s after ten.” He whispers, making you understand the change in atmosphere. “You still want to?”

You giggle, your hands immediately grabbing at the hem of your shirt to take it off. “You gonna fuck me good, Ed?”

“Not Ed,” he mutters, his voice partially muffled by your shorts in his teeth. “Not now.”

“Daddy you gonna fuck me good?”

No words left his mouth, but you saw the darkened eyes as his hands gently finished the shorts’ journey off your legs. You waited in bated breath as you felt Eddie’s hot breath against your thighs next to your pussy. “Look how pretty this pussy is.” Eddie admires you, his finger lightly grazing against your folds. “And she’s so wet, too. I’ve barely even touched you.”

“That’s-that’s a lie and you know it, Ed.” You whine, resisting the urge to slam your legs together in the increased state of vulnerability you feel.

“Not Ed, and it’s…debatable.” Eddie decided, taking in the velvet feeling of the wetness against your entrance. He takes a scoop of your slick and slips it into his mouth for the taste of it and bites back a moan. “Fuck, you taste so good, princess.”

Your hips move restlessly, tired of the lack of touch. “Do-do something, Daddy. Anything. Please.”

Eddie chuckles, taking pity on you. He yanks himself off the bed, ripping his belt off so his jeans come off with one swift move. His underwear is ripped off without another thought. “Anything? How about you?”

Before you can even process what Eddie meant you feel him line his cock up against your entrance, and you moan loudly at the feeling of his cock finally pushing into you after hours of his fingers grazing your skin lighting it on fire. “Holy- oh my god-” you moaned, reeling in the feeling.

Eddie leans into you, lying his body against yours, your tits being pushed up to your ears. “Fuck, your pussy feels so goddamn good, sweetheart. So, so goddamn tight, and wet, and I will never get over how fucking good your pussy is.” Eddie rambles into your ear, voice deep and gruff.

“Move? Please?” You ask him gently, wondering if he even heard what you had said.

“Maybe I just wanna be in you for a little bit.”

“Mmmhm!” You whine, both turned on and angered by the idea. “Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely, my love.” He says, and his first hip thrust makes you forget how gentle he was.

Eddie moves his hand as he thrusts awkwardly so his fingers cling to your clit, rubbing frantically as if he wanted to make you cum as fast as possible. The build up from waiting in a frantic heightened state combined with the lovely foreplay Eddie had so generously provided for you brought on the feeling of your orgasm in the pit of your stomach, fast and startling.

He saw the flutter of your eyelid, felt the squeezing of your thighs, felt your breathing grow shallower by the minute, he could tell you were close. “My baby close?”

You nod, your eyelids struggling to stay open.

“Yeah? Just got my cock in you and you’re already gonna cum?” He asks, the pressure of his thumb tensing up lightly, rubbing it faster.

You nod again, moaning loudly as his thrusts hit harder.

“I don’t know if my baby has been a good enough girl for that, being a brat, n’ all…” Eddie manages, and your brow unconsciously furrows, clear as day you were not a fan of this idea. “No, you think you deserve to cum?”

You nod your head frantically, wordlessly begging for him to show you any kind of mercy.

“I guess I’ll allow it.” Eddie says after pretending to consider it.

The words had set off a flood gate of pleasure stunning you into border lining on completely limp. Usually after such an intense orgasm he would stop, allowing you to catch your breath before he carried on. However, this time intensity of your cunt tightening around his cock so tight had Eddie losing his mind, continuing to fuck you into oblivion.

He made his way up so he was sitting up and you were still on your back, now managing to hit deeper. Though you have been sexually active with him quite frequently, often enough to make anyone blush, making Eddie’s limit extended. Even with this additional experience, sometimes just the tightening of your cunt as you finish around him brings him to his high.

“Fuck, your tight-tight fucking pussy, so perfect, so beautiful, feels so fuckin good, sweetheart.” Eddie grunts, and you’re finally recovered enough to enjoy the blissed out look on his face. “Fuck-” With a final snap of his hips, the familiar feeling of Eddie’s cum filling you up filled your senses. You watched Eddie’s half lidded eyes as he was in the depth of the feeling of his orgasm.

Breath finally fills your lungs after the air being sucked out of it from being able to watch something as hot and ethereal as this boy that you thirsted after for three years cum inside you. How was this real? Nearly two months of you two together and you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Eddie to tell you this was enough experience and now he had wanted to be with someone who he had actually liked.

The insecurity hit you in a place that drove you to sit up and tug him down to lie back on top of you. Eddie had sensed some sort of change in your disposition, the insecurity flashing across your face before he was tugged down to you. “You, you okay, sweetheart?”

“I just really-” the word wanted to leave your mouth. It was sitting in your voice box’s waiting room, reading one of the magazines for the fifth time. Its number was called, again. The word looked up and shook it’s head. It just wouldn’t leave your mouth. “I just hope this never ends.”

“I’m still in you.” Eddie says, lifting his head and giving you a weird look. You laugh together, the bizarre feeling of his cock twitching inside of you as he wasn’t moving, you pulse around him. “Me too, princess.” Eddie leans back onto you, peppering your neck with quick kisses.

You push him off and out of you, now exhausted from your long day at work and remembering you had school the next day. “You’re still coming over next week?” You ask him, watching as he got himself back into his clothes.

“Of course! Wayne not having to cook anything that even resembled a Thanksgiving dinner is a definite RSVP.” Eddie jokes, and you realize he’s about to take off when he slips on his jacket.

“Nothing to do with your girlfriend, huh? Only coming for Wayne’s sake?” you asked, edging him on to admit that you’re the reason he was willing to spend supper with his girlfriend’s parents and his own guardian.

“Wayne would’ve come to eat with them whether or not they had invited him, honestly.” Eddie laughs, doing a last ruffle through his hair. “Oh, sweetheart I have a surprise for you.” He mentions, moving his leg out of your window.

“Ooh! What?” Eddie’s surprises rarely (never) failed you.

“You’ll find out tomorrow morning.” He says, now out your window and giving you a cheeky grin. He leaned in to give you a sweet kiss, sly smile making you weak in the knees. You’re pretty sure seeing this smile alone in the first month of freshman year is what made you fall for him. Despite the internal monologue of telling yourself giving in to his kisses will only encourage him to go on with his bullshit, another part of you loved this part of him and knew your relationship wouldn’t be the same without it.

“This Friday at your house, Ed?” You asked him, leaning against the window as he stayed crouched.

“Just like always, sweetheart.” There’s finality in his voice, and the word still refuses to leave your throat. I love you.

“See you tomorrow baby.”

“Tomorrow.”

If you had a normal night at work last night then you would’ve spent all night tossing and turning, wondering what surprise he would give you.

Over the past six weeks Eddie has realized one way to show he cares is to give you surprises and always have something to pull out of his back pocket. A broken piece of one of his old guitar picks you have displayed on your mirror, an old chain necklace he didn’t wear anymore, a flower he miraculously found in the back alley at the bar his gig was at, and lastly, a movie date that started with wining and dining and ended with highly sinful whisperings into your ear.

The morning started with meeting Eddie in the parking lot, hand in hand to walk in tandem into the school. “Look beautiful today, baby.” He speaks to you lowly, causing your face to heat up.

You don’t respond, afraid to stutter out a response. You walk over to a table where Nancy is currently arguing with Evan, an argument they’ve had since last week.

“-because that’s not what’s important about the story! It’s not about the discrepancies that lead up to it, its about the truth. It’s why we report.” Nancy was exasperated, a notepad full of a nearly finished story (or an idea of the story), using her pen to point at her notepad insistently.

“But Nancy this is a part of the truth! It’s an important detail that tells the whole story, the whole image of what we are telling. No piece of information is unimportant, can’t believe you’d even claim that.” Evan says, sounding genuine.

“Evan this information is hearsay. You have no proof other than speculation to prove it’s true.” Nancy shots back, her jaw hard.

You were going to announce you and your boyfriend’s arrival when you had sat down but this was just entertaining. Their arguments were usually along these lines, Nancy shuts it down in the end and you were looking forward to how she would do it today.

“I have a strong rumour mill to rely on. They’re not wrong very often.” Evan contorts, his voice telling the three of you he thought he had Nancy down.

Nancy glances to you and you realize she’d known you were there all along, giving you a side eye. You both know the rumour mill in town is not always correct. In fact, the two of you have relied on Hawkins’ inaccuracy. “Unless you can give me a congruent resource, it’s a no-go.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever.” Evan leans onto his elbow, tapping the pen on his paper. Suddenly, you find Evan looking at you, a new glint in his eye. “So, any chance-”

“Go away, Evan.” You say, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. “Besides, the frenzy around our relationship has died down by now. I don’t think it would be the hard-hitting piece it would’ve at one point.”

“You’d be surprised how much people want to know.” Evan states, looking around him as if those very people had asked him personally questions about the two of you.

You rolled your eyes. “Dude.” Eddie says, out of patience from hearing you complain about him. You watched as Evan’s glance switched to Eddie and his eyes widen in fear. Sometimes Eddie’s reputation was worth it. “Drop it.”

A conscious effort is used on your part to not seem surprised at how hard Eddie’s voice was. Anything close to what you’d heard before was something he would use in good fun. Evan has been border-lining aggressive about it, despite Nancy’s continuous efforts to get him to cut it out.

Evan nodded slowly, the message was received, he waved wordlessly to Nancy and walked out of the cafeteria, looking back at Eddie with wide eyes.

As soon as Evan was out of earshot the three of you break into laughter, hardly believing his reaction. “Pretty sure he went to go change his pants,” Nancy laughed, closing her notepad.

“Can’t believe that worked.” Eddie says relieved smile on his face.

“You were scary.” Nancy states, switching her glance between you two. ‘Scary’ she mouths at you.

“Your brother seems to think so.” Eddie said, glancing towards where Mike and Dustin were sitting at the Hellfire club table.

“He also says that she ruined you.” Nancy laughs, scratching at the back of her neck.

You roll your eyes, used to Mike’s vague irritation aimed at you about his beloved heartless, demonic Dungeon Master. “He’ll get over it.” You remember. “So, Ed. What are you telling me?”

“I was wondering when you were going to ask me.” Eddie says, leaning into you and putting his arm around you. “Well, sweetheart I called up Harrington last night,” concerning, go on, “and I asked him of a favour.”

“I heard he had already given you two a favour.” Nancy comments, writing in her notebook.

The two of you glance at her, unaware of her knowledge of the incident from Halloween. Anyway.

“Wonder how many people just...know.” Eddie comments, scratching his chin. “Anyway, he got us another reservation at Chef’s Table.”

“No shit.” You comment, excitement about doing the date right this time without the first date jitters. “Same table?”

“Same table.”

“Fuck yeah!” You say, pumping your fist in celebration.

“Don’t waste it!” Steve says, seeing your celebratory pump in the air, not knowing if this is what you were talking about but betting on it anyway.

“Go to work!” Nancy shouts back, pointing to the clock on the wall that stated ten minutes until class started.

“Why do you kick him out every morning?” Eddie asks, kissing you lightly on your cheek after he says it.

“Cause then he would be loitering and I’d rather him deal with me than Principal Higgins or the police.” Nancy states, grabbing her stuff to get to her first class. “I gotta go anyway. Yearbook stuff.”

“Guess we should go to class too, huh?” Eddie asks, getting up from his chair.

“Where did Eddie go?” You ask, looking around him dramatically.

“Shut up.” Eddie mutters, tugging you by the hand to head to your locker, as you routinely did.

The week was uneventful to say the least. Quiet conversations with him in the halls and World Geography, loud exclamations in the cafeteria with Hellfire during lunch, written notes exchanged between you and Robin, and a stupid amount of clownery at Family Video. Don’t be fooled, you were also involved in the clownery of course. Eddie visiting you after his gig on Tuesday was a nice surprise, him sneaking in (again) in his leather get up and you tugging him down so you could make out with him and ride him wearing the headband on his head.

Just the headband.

Eddie did try to convince you to hook up in the custodian closet, but you nervously said no to the offer, too scared of the idea of the janitor opening the door in the middle of it.

The third Thursday of November of 1985 rolled around, and it was suddenly Thanksgiving. Your mother spent all morning preparing for the Munsons to come over for dinner. It was filled with constant favours coming your way and doing the little tasks that get lost in the big picture of Thanksgiving. Sure, it was a holiday to get together with your family before Christmas and it was when the holiday spirit started to kick in but man, is it exhausting to prepare for.

You know you love him but when your dad calls from the living room demanding a drink after your sweet mom who has been slaving away in the kitchen all day you want to tell him to get his own damn shit. She has spent all day preparing fucking dinner, for gods sake.

Dressed in your best dress that is both family friendly and makes your boyfriend’s mouth water (the best kind of dress), you’re setting the last of the table settings and cutlery when the front door knocks, knocking the air out of you in the process. Heaven knows why you were even nervous, Wayne being a familiar face to you and Eddie doing movie night with you and your parents are two considerations that lead to a feeling of familiarity and comfort in your mutual families.

The door was opened to two spritely dressed Munson men, both obviously uncomfortable in their best dressed clothes. You weren’t sure you’ve ever seen Wayne dressed in anything but slightly dirty flannel. You were used to Eddie wearing nicer clothing on the occasion, but you preferred him in leather. Eddie wore a smile, the kind he wore when he wanted to water himself down. Wayne simply oozed discomfort. His face was warm, but you weren’t sure if it was the dress clothes or the forced politeness of a family dinner, but he did not seem at ease.

There you stood, in between your mom and dad, wondering how cheesy the three of you had looked for the moment. Was he fighting back laughter at this sitcom of a scenario? Lord knows you were.

A beat passed and your mom was finally the one to break the ice. “Welcome, gentlemen. Come on in, take your coats off.”

“Thanks for inviting us.” Eddie says, and you hate to admit but it sounded rehearsed. Like he and Wayne had practiced it together on the way over.

“Of course! You are welcome anytime; we just made too much food.” Your mom jokes, and the silence in her laughing is deafening.

“I’m just glad I don’t need to cook anything resembling Thanksgiving. It usually crawls away from our plates.” Wayne gruffs out, clearing this throat. You knew Wayne well enough to know that he was joking back to her.

The two men make their way into the door and shrug their jackets off. Eddie must’ve been wearing one of Wayne’s jackets because it just engulfed him, and you figured Wayne yelled at him not to wear the leather. Ed didn’t have anything else, so he borrowed Wayne’s.

As you all make your way over to the dining area, your father starts talking to Wayne, having been on the nightshift together for the last few months since Wayne had picked them up. The two of them continue their quiet conversation, and this is exactly why you and your mom placed Wayne right next to him. They had someone to partake in conversation about work when you and your mom never completely comprehended what it was that he did at work.

Your mom had you all pray, despite you communicating Eddie’s religious stance. She said that doesn’t make him intolerant of those still choosing to believe, and you were on the fence about this idea.

“So, you two, how are your grades?” Your mom asks right off the bat.

Eddie laughs, still admittedly about a D grade though you had helped him go from an F to a D with passing in homework. “They could probably be better in my case, but they have definitely been worse.”

“And you, Y/N?” She asks pointedly to you.

You look up from where you’re scooping the mash potatoes like a deer in the headlights. “I mean, I don’t have anything below a B. Why?”

“You two just do so much studying I figured you were getting straight As.” Your mom says, eyebrow raised deliberately.

You froze, looking up from your plate with wide eyes and your breathing gains major depth. “Mom!”

Wayne’s laughter catches the whole table’s attention, his hand in a fist with the back of it against his mouth, as if he was holding it in. “Hey, I’ve been telling them that this whole time but they don’t seem to get it.”

You couldn’t even attempt to see if your dad had caught on to what these two assholes were trying to imply off the bat. This goddamn supper was supposed to be a nice family gathering. No. Not in the stars. Dang.

Your glance goes next to you to your boyfriend, and he’s laughing as well. It was more the fact that you were both gained on as soon as they got the chance to rather than humour.

“You think we should leave these kids alone?” He asks, still laughing.

“It’s not as fun if I don’t see her embarrassed.” She says, reaching to you to pet your hair fondly. You jerk out of reach, lowkey pissed. “Why not. Just make sure your nephew starts using the door.”

“Door?” Wayne asked, unsure where this could lead to.

“Mmhm. He seems to insist on using my daughter’s window even though I have told him I will keep the door unlocked or give him a key if it means his van doesn’t startle me for the thousandth time.” Your mom tells him, shooting a cheeky glance towards Eddie.

“Edward” Wayne starts, and your mom finally learns his full name for when she wants to yell at him.

“Hmm?” Eddie turns his head to Wayne, already decided he will still use your window.

“Use their front door or you’ll likely not be welcome at their house anymore.” Wayne explains casually, as if he wasn’t telling off his nephew in front of another family.

“Yes sir.” Eddie nods, and his leg shaking mixed with his hand placed gently on your thigh somehow sends a message he wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon.

“So, Wayne. Just out of curiosity-” oh no, “why were you the relative chosen to raise your nephew?” Mom what the fuck?

Two hours and a buttload more of embarrassing questions from your mom and Wayne being a good sport throughout it all, you’re stuck doing the dishes again. How did you do the prep all day and clean up after it now? You swear you were swaying on the spot as you dried the dishes your boyfriend was carefully washing.

You could hear the idle conversation going away from how Wayne grew up through invasive questions during supper to mindless yet comfortable chatter, and it was terribly comforting. “You okay?” Eddie’s voice interrupts your eavesdropping, and you were startled out of it.

“Hmm?” You ask, looking up at him.

“You okay, princess?” Eddie asks, his movements paused as he expressed his concern.

“Why?”

“You’re rocking back and forth. You’ve also been drying this plate for more than five minutes.” Eddie says, gently grabbing the plate from you.

You shook your head, hoping it shakes you out of it. “I-I’m ok.” Sighing, your hand on your forehead to gain a hold of yourself. “I’ve been up and working in the kitchen since this morning. I’m just tired.”

“Sit down. I’ll finish the dishes.” Eddie states, guiding you to a chair.

“No, no it’s fine. I can do it-” you try to tell him, but he is having none of it.

“Sit.” Your butt lands on the wooden chair and the relief as your forehead hits the table is immediate.

“Put the dishes on the counter if you’re not sure where they go, I can finish it off” you tell him through the table, and Eddie slowly finishes the rest of the dishes by himself.

It feels like only two minutes pass by, and your mom walks into the kitchen, “Hey Eddie when you have a minute-” she stops midway through his sentence, seeing you dead asleep on the table.

Eddie turns toward you fondly, smiling softly as he watched the softness of your breathing as you slept. “She passed out basically the moment she sat down.” Eddie says, finishing drying the last of the dishes. “I was just going to finish cleaning up then wake her.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, when you have a minute your uncle said you do labour chores when you need extra cash mind stopping by when she’s at work on Sunday?” Your mom asks, and Eddie nods wordlessly. “Thanks.” Your mom steps out of the kitchen, and her brain has malfunctioned. For the last few weeks, she has caught him looking at you fondly and it assures her that he is someone who cares for you, but this look startled her. That look was not care; it was love. She had wondered if you two had even said the word yet. She had heard certain things, so she knew that was out of the question, but this was a whole new concept to her, and she needed a moment to wrap her head around it.

Eddie finishes putting the plates on the counter places his hand gently on your back. “Baby.” He mutters, hoping not to startle you wake.

Jokes on him, you always startle awake. “Hmm?” You jerk up off the table.

“Hi. Hi.” It takes you a moment to comprehend and for Eddie’s face to unblur in front of you. “You fell asleep. I think we should get you to bed.”

“Does that mean you’re leaving?” You ask pathetically, your mind not completely awake and aware that your parents can all hear this conversation.

He chuckles and wraps his arm around you. “Probably.” You whine about it, still tired and now cranky from being woken up. “We can talk about it, I promise.”

He escorts you up the stairs, aware of all six eyes watching the two of you as if it was the sweetest thing they’ve ever witnessed. God, adults are weird. When you were laid down onto the bed you curled up immediately into your pillow, a content smile making its way onto your face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, yeah?” Eddie asks, sitting next to you, not even sure if he’ll get a response. You just hummed. “You better remember.” Nothing came out. “Sweetheart?” he asks, and he’s sure you’re out cold. He leans in to kiss you on your head and mutters, “I love you” and shuts the door as quietly as he can behind him.

Thank God for long weekends. On an ordinary weekend when you had slept over at Eddie’s (Wayne always made sure he was away for the night; more for his sake than yours) Saturdays were taken away from your usual midday shift and suddenly you’re facing a whole week of school and homework on Sunday. You wanted to convince whoever needed convincing weekends needed a third day. You need to spend one more day off with your boyfriend, dammit.

Every Friday you were able to sleep over you made sure you had no homework left over, providing less mental load for when you just want to spend time with him. Thanksgiving had really left little time to make it happen as it usually did, especially falling asleep before 8pm, but the day off provided the time you needed. Who cares, let’s get to the sleep over.

After spending the day bent over your desk, you had packed an over night bag with minimal essentials and were reading an indie fantasy novel he had lent to you when he honked his horn to let you know he was there. He didn’t often honk, as most parents appreciated when boys came to the door, but at this point your mom had understood the deal. You got good grades, you were attending school, and Eddie had proven himself respectful. Seemed you had ‘earned’ the cliché of the bad influence boyfriend honking his horn while blasting his loud death metal music to announce his arrival.

You yell a goodbye and close the door, running out into the early winter air straight to his van. In classic Eddie fashion, he had turned down the loud music when he saw you in the review mirror but continued his headbanging. Considerate, but he’s still doing what he is gonna do. As soon as your door was shut, he put the van into drive and took off to the trailer park.

“What movie did you want to watch?” Eddie asks as he held out his hand to help you out his van. “Are in the mood for like a scary movie, funny, dumb?”

As you step onto the snow and there’s a crunch underneath your foot as you walk to the stairs leading up to the trailer. “I think I want something funny or dumb. Something to laugh at with you.” Eddie smiles at this, and you’re cute as shit.

Eddie goes inside and turns the light on, takes off his jacket and runs around like a headless chicken for a few minutes and you look at the VHS collection for something to watch with him. Eddie comes back from his room, holding a small tin container and a few small ‘gems’. You hold out your pick for him, and he grins maniacally. “I was hoping you would be picking a dumb movie tonight,” Eddie says, watching your ass as you started to set up the VCR.

“Oh, not in the mood for horror? That’s unlike you.” You answer, sitting yourself onto the couch in his arms. “So, what presents do ya have.” You ask, getting a look at what he had gathered from his room.

“I have a proposition for you.” Eddie starts, and you observe he is nervously gnawing on his lips.

“I’m intrigued.” You lean in, already barely paying any attention to the movie already, and the main character hasn’t even been introduced. “Go on.”

He shifts in his seat, hesitating in continuing with his proposal. “You don’t have to, and I would understand if you said no. Sweetheart, I want to get high with you. I do it on my own a bit, but I wanted to show you why I enjoy it, and experience that level of intimacy with you.”

It would’ve been a lie if you said you were expecting this. “I mean, getting high isn’t really my thing.”

Eddie laughs, not maliciously, just out of love. “I’m not expecting you to smoke it everyday. Being high this often comes with a lot of dead brain cells.” He jokes, sticking his tongue out of his mouth. “I do think people need to experience it at least once. It’s super freeing. We can sit here and look pretty and cuddle. I was waiting for a day where you could sleep over when you didn’t have to work tomorrow so you don’t have to see your parents until after you have time to shower.”

On the one hand, your heart stutters at the thought Eddie putting this much thought into smoking with you, giving you the full moment bask it in and recover the next day. On the other hand, the idea of smoking weed had barely crossed your mind, it was on the other realm of your life’s experience. A girl who is getting good grades and too shy to speak to her crush for three whole years is barely spending her weekends being blazed. On a theoretical third hand, there has been an impulsive thought where you had wondered what Eddie was like when he was blissed and why he didn’t seem to feel comfortable getting high around you. “I’m not against it.”

“What’s holding you back?” He asks pulling you against him tighter so you’re basically laying onto him.

“I-I was risen with the drugs bad campaign. Though now that I think about it if my parents go to a hook-up restaurant then they definitely smoked pot. Our elementary school had that assembly that yelled at us about how pot would kill us and there would be adults offering crack cocaine-”

Eddie snorts, interrupting you. “Yeah crack is a bit too expensive to be offering to any person on the street.”

“You’re not who I exactly pictured when they told me about the dangers of drugs, baby.” You answer, remembering the clear picture of a flasher with a trench coat opening to reveal several different labelled drugs. You sigh, and the idea of being in ignorant bliss is feels more tempting.

“Anything else holding you, sweetheart?” Eddie asks patiently, caressing your shoulder as he watches over you patiently.

You adjust yourself so you’re now laying on top of him chest to chest. “I’m scared I’ll get anxious and freak out.”

Eddie rubs your back, understanding this point of view. He did mushrooms about two years ago and it’s the kind of drug that you need to relax into, or you will have a terrible trip. Especially in Eddie’s case before he met his dealer Reefer Rick he would buy and not be 100% sure if what he was taking was safe. Pot is something you want to relax into but if you become hyper aware of your state it’s not detrimental, just shitty. “Yeah, that’s fair. The good news is you are with some one who” LOVES YOU “cares about you and will make sure you don’t smoke too much on your first time. Things get out of hand when you smoke with people who don’t care with you.”

“You wanna help me for my first time?” You ask, the innuendo too much to look over.

“If you got to teach me, why shouldn’t I repay the favour?” Eddie asks, understanding entirely what you meant. You lean in for a kiss, drinking in the feeling his lips never failed to give you. The kiss ends, you stare at him half lidded before nodding your head. Eddie smiles, a glint appearing into his eyes out of nowhere. “I need verbal confirmation, sweetheart. Are you sure?”

You roll your eyes, annoyed at his insistence on getting your consent on a regular basis but there are worse things to annoy you in the world. He just is making sure you don’t feel pressured into something you didn’t want to do. “Yes. Teach me how to smoke weed with you.”

“Cool.” Eddie sits up without warning, startling you as you roll backwards over your feet. When you give him, a warning look of ‘what was that’ he looks apologetic in forgetting you were on top of him in his excitement. “Sorry, sweetheart. I got excited. Holy shit. Ok. Gimme a sec.”

Eddie runs to a spot by the front door and climbs onto a chair and opens a roof vent. He hops off the chair and runs with it to his own room and presumably opens a vent there as well. Eddie jogs back with the chair in one hand and a lighter in the other and drops his chair off at its permanent location. You wondered if he used it for anything other than opening the vents.

He sits down, and he starts to move around his little tins. You watch him, fascinated by watching him work in a way you haven’t been able to see before. “What are you doing?”

You watch him and he pulls out a plastic baggy holding little green leafy clumps and a smell hits your nose you didn’t realize you had recognized. He opens the baggy and grabs one of the smaller clumps and moves on to a metallic round container with the same circumference as a golf ball. You watch his hands work, obviously idle and used to the habit by now. His fingers work to open the round container to show a series of seemingly sharp spikes spread equally around the surface area on both the lid and the bottom. He places the little ball into the circle and closes the container. You hear a grinding sound, like the sound of an Etch-A-Sketch and see Eddie using both hands to turn the container.

Honestly, you had no idea what he was doing or how you were about to smoke it, but it was cool. You watched the rest of the process, Eddie bringing out his rolling papers and filling it with a now smaller but similar substance to the stuff in the baggy and carefully rolling them up. It seemed like an art, almost. When the process was completed, Eddie proudly held up the joint and held it for you to see.

“Ta-da!” Eddie exclaims dramatically, his other hand’s fingers spread out. “I present to you our humble guide.” He puts down the joint and starts to add some to a new rolling paper.

“Are we smoking more than one?” You ask, adjusting yourself so you’re watching what he was doing more closely.

“You are taking two, maybe three inhales from this one. You don’t know it, but it’s decently sized. I, on the other hand, have an intense tolerance for this stuff so I need to smoke a little bit more.

“How much more?” You ask innocently, staring at the lone joint he put down on the table.

“Oh, maybe 5 or 6 more.” He answered casually, starting to roll up the second one. Your eyes widened at this thought, wondering if he was more chronic than you had anticipated. Eddie glances to see your pretty face while he rolls the joint and he laughs at your comically wide eyes. “I might indulge frequently but I never drive while high, made that mistake once and I haven’t seen my uncle more disappointed in me. Even when I said I failed grade 12 again. Trust me. There’s nothing more nerve wrecking than seeing that man’s face on the morning after I had confessed, I drove home while high.”

Eddie slaps his hands on his thighs, the international symbol for ‘alright let’s do this’. “Alright. Do you know how to light or use a cigarette?” He asks, turning his body to face you. You shook your head, bewildered. Has he met you? “Right, so when you inhale, you need to be taking the smoke right into your lungs. An easy trick I have learned to help newbies is to take it into your mouth first, then you sharply inhale to take it into your lungs.” You nodded, your student trained hands itching for a pen to write it down, so you don’t forget anything. “Hold it in for as long as you can. The longer, the better. If, if, if you choose to keep smoking on the occasion, you’ll find that your lung capacity will decrease and you won’t be able to hold that smoke in as long.”

You blinked rapidly, absorbing the buttload information Eddie has just provided you with. You didn’t realize there was so much to it.

“Don’t worry. You’ll stop overthinking about it when it starts to sink in. Warning, since you don’t know what it feels like exactly you might not realize you’re high and then it might hit you pretty hard. Which is why I’m here to provide you assurance.” Eddie warns and comforts you. “Are you still up for it?”

“Bring it on.” You’re not entirely convinced by this yourself, but the details and idea were intriguing to say the least.

Eddie gives you a wicked smile, his dimples pronounced and a crazy look in his eyes you could only assume was bizarre excitement. “Alright. Hold this up to your mouth, I’ll light it and tell you when to inhale.” You tentatively hold the joint for the first time, and it’s more fragile than you had expected. Your shaky hands hold it in a pincer grasp. Your eyes cross and focus on the lighter Eddie puts to the end of it, a white twisty part. The end is lit and spark flies as the end burns up fast. The joint burns up fast, and smoke starts to come out of it. “Now” Eddie gently says, and you start to attempt what he has described to you.

The smoke goes into your mouth, and you could taste what you had smelled when he opened the baggy. Step by step, you remove the joint from your mouth, sharply inhale the smoke into your lungs and a tang of discomfort tells you that you did it right. You thought you might be able to hold your breath for a good amount of time, but your lungs expel the smoke immediately, bringing out a coughing fit.

“That’s a good girl!” Eddie says, patting your back as he takes in his first inhale, dusting ash into an ashtray you hadn’t even noticed was in front of you. “Thirsty?” He asks, offering an ice-cold Coke.

You take the pop with gratitude, wondering how he knew exactly what you had needed. “Good? I coughed it all out.” You asked, curious to what you did was good when he had told you to keep it in your lungs as long as possible.

“Your lungs are clean. Usually if someone doesn’t cough their first inhale it means they did it wrong. Coughing is an excellent sign you did it just right. Need another hit?” Eddie offers the joint back, and it’s noticeably decreased in size, blackened on the end of it.

You nodded, not really feeling anything yet. You took a hit again, using the same steps, not coughing as bad this time. “Don’t you use a glass thing?” you ask, vaguely remembering seeing something in his room once or twice.

Eddie chuckled at your sweet ignorance, finishing the last of the joint you had handed to him. “A bong? Yeah that’s not meant for the first time smoking, sweetheart. Seriously, the last guy I saw try a bong for the first time he threw up almost immediately. It hits your throat a lot harder, even with ice.”

You weren’t sure how ice had anything to do with it, but you didn’t care. An urge to crawl into Eddie’s arms hit and you slowly started to crawl into him. “Wow okay you’re definitely high.” Eddie comments as you sprawl yourself onto his body.

“Huh?” You ask, lying on his chest and half paying attention to the movie. “I can’t even feel it.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, petting your hair. “Look at me.” You turn your head to face him, and he bites back laughter. “Yeah, I knew it. You’re smiling.”

“So? Can’t smile at my boyfriend?” You ask, unsure of what that had to do with anything.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, you can smile, and I love it when I see that beautiful smile, baby. But usually, the smile sitting on your face right now is reserved for the stoned. And you, my dear, are very stoned.”

As you watch the movie, your breathing even and Eddie’s heartbeat in your ear, you start to think about the smile sitting on your face. As it sits you wonder if you can de-smile, so to say. You try to wipe it off your face, but it proves impossible and does the opposite as you giggle from the ridiculousness.

“Definitely stoned.” Eddie says with a fondness in his voice.

“Baby.” You say, crawling up to him. “Can-can we kiss? I want kisses. Please?”

Eddie nods, taking in your half-mooned eyes and your sleepy disposition. “Of course, sweetheart.”

After the two of you make out for a little, Eddie’s knee finding it’s way in between your legs, for the first time you direct him away from going any further. “I-I just don’t think I’m in a good state for that. Keep it PG?”

Eddie agrees without any protest, understanding in full. When the kissing ceases, you lie on his chest for a healthy amount of time, you figure out why they call it being high. It feels like you’re elevated, floating, everything is hazy, and it might take you longer to cognitively function but things feel safe.

You laid on Eddie without talking until well into the credits, and it seemed like you were paying attention to every name it had mentioned. Eddie was tempted to put on one of his favourite marijuana-associated movies, but he was afraid it would just freak you out. He went to the exact opposite and put in the only Disney movie he and his uncle owned, Lady and the Tramp.

When Eddie got up to change the tapes you had protested loudly in him leaving but it was all good when you knew he was only right in front of you. He waddled back to the couch but were terribly irritated when he sat down rather than laying for you to crawl on him again. “You’ll be fine, I’m just smoking a few more puffs so I can lie down with you, ok?”

You nod, leaning back as the Disney credits started. When you saw the title, you smirked at Eddie with what you thought was a side eye mixed with a smirk. Really, you were just smiling wildly, rivalling Eddie’s own wild smile.

Towards the end of the movie, after the talking cartoon dogs started to mess you up a little but you didn’t communicate it on the grounds of not wanting to be made fun of, Eddie gently sets you up, and you get a good look at his face for the first time in a while. You understood what Eddie meant by stoners sport the smile, because he was wearing the same one. “Okay, princess. Bedtime for both of us.”

“I like sitting on the couch with you, though.” You whine, the idea of getting up to go to his bed too much and wanting to sleep there.

Eddie knew why, so he lifts you up onto his shoulders and down the hall to his room, turning off the appropriate lights and the tv on the way there. Your back hits his bed, and you yank onto him, causing him to yelp as his jeans were barely off his ass when he’s attempting to take them off for bed. “Hey, hey! He yells, nearly falling over. Lemme take my shit off then I’ll cuddle ya, you stoner.”

So you do, watching contently as he whizzes around his room getting shit ready for bed. He was tempted to ask if you wanted snacks, but he’ll let you discover the love of the munchies for another day. “How you feel, hmm?” He asks after turning the lights off and getting into bed with you.

“Nice. This is a nice feeling.” You comment, moving your hands across his chest, not sexually, just playing with the light patch of chest hair. “I can see why you and the football players enjoy it.”

“Those guys snort a lot of coke.” He sighs, not aware of what he was saying as he fell asleep.

“Huh.” You answer, and you were on your way to dreamland as well.

The night ends like this, the two of you wrapped up in your own little cocoon. Wayne comes to the house smelling like pot and his ashtray full of new filters on the coffee table with unopened chip bags by the tv. Seemed like you two had a good night, considering you made it to the bed.

The following Sunday Steve and Robin restlessly ask Eddie what you were like while you were high as he crashed Family Video. There seemed to be a collective idea of congratulations towards Eddie for managing to corrupt you more than they ever were. You side-eyed the three of them, pissed at the very idea of ‘being corrupted’; like you were a child.

It was the last week of November, and Mike was getting mad excited about El coming up to see Mike for Christmas. It was debated if Will would tag along to see the gang, but Will was insistent that he spend Christmas with his mom. At least that’s what Mike told everyone.

Dustin and Lucas were both calling Will on a semi-regular basis to inform him on DnD shenanigans and talk yet Mike has some weird hesitance over calling Will. (Despite Dustin nagging him to just fucking call him.) There was a common belief that Mike didn’t even ask Will to come down, but no one actually wanted to ask. Mike is a defensive asshole sometimes.

Regardless of whatever rumours were being spread, even about your own friends, his excitement was according to you, adorable. According to Eddie, it was adorable about the first few times now it’s just annoying.

The Friday when El arrived in the evening Nancy had spent all lunch dreading it, explaining she’ll need a barf bag from the mere mushiness El and Mike were about to present to her square in the face. You let her rant about it, yet secretly was excited for their reunion. (After all, you knew they had a connection.)

As much as you wanted to join them for a reunion, you had asked for them to tape it for you or at least take photos cause you had a hot date at Chef’s Table and you and Eddie wanted to do it right this time.

As you stood at your stuffed closet, you stared at the all the options, wondering about the general dress code for the night. Since your stunt during your first week (you had it down bad) together there has been a silent agreement of anything that you are anxious if you move will show something, you can wear it for him. (Which you have) If his fingers are going there anyway, might as well assist, no?

The phone rings, you allow your mom to pick it up. It’s Eddie. Is…is he not getting ready for your date, too?

“Baby?” You answer, attempting to decide between two aesthetically different dresses, one that is only held on your body by a string. You bought it on a whim with some extra money from work but it hasn’t seen the light of day, hidden in a box in your closet. “What’s up?”

“Yeah hi sweetheart I was just calling to make one thing clear. Wear the smallest dress. Whatever dress you are unsure if you should wear, wear it. You can wear my jacket on the way. Understand?” Eddie says, and you get the idea from his tone that he’s not giving you much of a choice in the matter. Not that you had any protest in his demands, in fact you were going to be well prepped for when the first move was made. “Princess?”

You squeezed your legs tightly to slightly appease the burning in your groin. “Yeah, I hear you, baby. See you soon?”

“Count on it.” The line goes dead.

Well, it’s decided. Tiny little dress held together by sheer stubbornness wins by Eddie demanding it into existence.

Eddie’s phone call was forty five minutes before he was due to pick you up. It gave you forty minutes to get ready. Your makeup went a more natural glam and but your hair a fluffy 80s dream. You wore some thigh high tights to give the illusion of some abstinence to your mother. Your dress sat right where your tights ended, some how perfectly feeding into it.

You were applying the last of your lip gloss on your vanity when the sound of a knuckle knocking thrice against your window startled you. When you open it, there he is, except not in his usual date-night wear. Usually he’s dressed to impress your mom, and while the effort of it turned you on, it was when he wore the leather jackets that got you all riled up. White knights in white shirts are great, fine even, but when he’s coming from a performance in leather you have to do your best not to drag him into the back and blow his brains out.

Tonight, the leather jacket was on over a band tshirt it looks as if he just threw something on. Why did this drench your panties more than his ironed white shirts carefully tucked in unripped jeans ever have? When you lift the window at his request, he lifts one leg in, showing purposely dishevelled jeans and the chain on his left hip. “Hi, baby.” You greet him.

“Hi. Come on, taking you out.” He says simply, his voice calm and deep as he offers you to grab his hand.

You hesitate, your hand lifted slightly as if you wondered what your mom would have to say after her constant insisting that Eddie take the front door if she didn’t see you off for your date.

“You think she’s gonna let you out the door? C’mon. We’ll take the heat for it later. This is our night.” He says, gripping onto your hand tighter than he might’ve intended as he lead you onto your roof. As you’re both halfway running to his van, you giggling the whole time you can see a light turn on and Eddie’s out of the driveway by the time she opens the door.

You’re in for it when you got home.

He’s chuckling with you, his hand effortlessly linking into your own as he recklessly drives to the restaurant. His windows are down, single handily running the hard work you had both put into your hair. Not a single care evaded your body as you relaxed next to him, used to his loud music and his even louder singing. How he managed to head-bang, avoid the police speed-wise, and still stroke your hand with his ringed fingers all at same time eluded you but you had learned to embrace and relax in his craziness.

You smiled at him, the word on your mind. Too scared to say it, wouldn’t everything change? Too scared for it to stay the same.

He pulled into the parking lot, somehow managing to take four spots at once, like some sort of exaggerated asshole. He usually doesn’t park that bad, but it seemed instead dressing to impress, he was dressing himself down to excite.

Excite you, that is.

On some primal level Eddie could tell that the white shirts and coming to front door has overstayed its welcome. Now that you knew him, far better than you ever could by watching him, by talking, laughing, fucking him, a white button-up just isn’t him. Last time he wore it you snapped it off the buttons, ripping the shirt open from the middle.

Even if he wanted to wear the button down he couldn’t, the buttons were still scattered all over his bedroom floor.

He knew you were begging for the side of him you found hot when you were watching him all those years, a scratching, anxious version of you begging to see the rebellious side of him. Not just when he fucks you, when he’s luring you into last minute quickies that just nearly get you into trouble. Even though he’s there underneath the manicured parent-friendly version of him, you want to visually see him. Right there, on your dates. Where he doesn’t have to talk quietly or over politely. You wanted him to be himself. The man you fell in love with.

You knew him. What he liked, what got him all in a twist, what got him really going if you had really wanted to, how badly his parents had messed him up… (Three months can teach you so much, but bitch you knew him.) Point is, you could see passed the put together façade he had put on, even for you and chose behind the person behind it. (You didn’t want the façade on date with you. You wanted him.)

Also he’s just smoking hot, and having him in his jacket with that ruffled hair, across from you on a hot date, it would make you go feral. Which is why when he yanks you out of his van you’re nearly buzzing in excitement. This date was turning out exactly the way you had hoped. A make up date, in every sense.

The two of you burst into the place, still hushed, reserved, and acting like it’s not the hook up spot in town. Now that you no longer had your blinders on, on your way to the table this time you had noticed the couples that were also sitting in here. Most of them were really close to one another talking softly or already kissing. If you had taken the moment to take a look at them it might’ve given you a clue as to what sort of place this was, which would’ve given you the courage you needed when you wanted to make out with him.

A different host lead you this time, handing you both menus and giving you a look on his way back to the front. He understood. You scooted your butt into the round booth, settling at about one cushion from the exit for the table. “Get that cute ass over here.” Eddie tells you, in the middle of the table. He has you scoot down until you’re right up next to him, barely enough room to do anything but talk or let wandering hands go where they might.

A side of you is nervous, shaky at the prospect of being touched like so in public. Every time he tries, attempting to get more frisky, you shyly shake your head no, no matter how exciting it sounds. “You alright, princess?” Eddie asks, soothing your knee with his thumb, sensing your anxiety.

“I’m ok. Should we look at the menu?” You ask, willing to distract your self from the nervousness and the increasingly damp spot on your lacy panties.

“Pretty sure you’re the only thing on the menu, no?” Eddie asks, his hand landing harder on your thigh, massaging it, knowing what he’s doing as he watches your eyes roll back. “Are you up for something crazy?”

“Anything,” you gasp out subconsciously, not completely aware of what slips out until it does.

Eddie laughs, placing his arm around you to whisper in your ear. “Okay, so after someone asks our drink order I’m gonna slip under the table. When they come back, I want you to order our appetizer, let’s say we’ll get some break sticks and beef dip, fuck, I don’t know. Order something. While you do that I’m gonna be tasting that pretty little,” he slips his hand up your thigh to your centre “soaked pussy of yours. Try your best, yeah?”

He takes his hand out from where it was placed, right at your centre were it was exuding warmth as he hears footsteps of the waitress coming. You knew her voice as soon as she started speaking. “Hi, I’m Daisy, I’ll be your waitress. What can I get started to drink for you?”

Daisy was a frequent flyer in your mind when you couldn’t sleep at night. The girl was a sharp reminder of what you thought might take him away from you. The version of her that you remembered was a girl who reminded you of your own insecurities and managed to make a uniform look decent.

This girl was pretty, but not that pretty. There’s a pimple on her forehead that’s a clear whitehead, a piece of lettuce stuck in her teeth, and her slick pulled back hair had boat load of flyaways. Time is kind, and maybe you needed to see her again to know that Daisy wasn’t going to take him, with or without the flaws you had just noticed. He was yours. The look on her face told you that she recognized you off the bat.

“I’ll get a water.” You state, knowing you’ll probably need to remain hydrated.

“Same.” Eddie states, licking his lips in anticipation for when she leaves.

“Alright. I’ll be back to take your order then.” Daisy drones, and this time you realized she was talking to the both of you.

You barely had a moment to watch her walk back and Eddie has already slipped underneath the tablecloth. “Holy shit. So pretty.” He mutters, more himself than to you. He wanted you to fucking stutter while talking and water was an easy drink to grab, so he had to move fast. Your underwear was off in one swift movement, and he attacked your pussy like he was dying of thirst and your pussy was the first drop of water after a week in a desert.

Your eyes closed immediately upon welcoming the warmth and the pleasure that rushes through you. After only moments of basking in the feeling Eddie pinches you, warning he can hear footsteps, and this was the lowest trafficked table in the restaurant it was definitely Daisy. You sit up, opening your eyes quickly and attempting to get yourself out the haze.

“Here’s your water,” she says, not looking up taking her notebook out. “are you ready to order-” she starts, and stops when she realizes Eddie wasn’t anywhere to be seen. “I can come back when he’s back from the bathroom if you need me to.” She says, absentmindedly.

You’re attempted to accept the offer, but Eddie pinches your thigh and uses his tongue harder to encourage you to speak. “Uh-no it’s okay. We decided on some a-appetizers.” You let out a hard breath, and Eddie has started to go to town on you, as if racing you to the finish line.

“Ok go ahead.” Daisy says after she had to search for her pen.

“We’ll have the uh-” you pause, “sorry, stomach-ache. We’ll have the bread sticks and the spinach dip, please.” You manage out, hitting the seat hard when you’re starting to get to the edge.

“Are you guys having any main entrees tonight, or just appies?” She asks, bored and fiddling with her notebook.

Your breathing has gotten shallower and you’re wondering if she has caught on yet. “Uh, no. Just that for now.”

Eddie adds a finger, frustrated that you’re managing to speak so well when you had drenched the leather booth beneath your thighs. The finger nearly makes you yelp and as he crooks it into a hook against your g-spot he brings you right to the edge, impossibly fast yet on a mission.

“Alright then” Daisy grabs your menus, you flailingly push yours to her, barely helping her as you go over the edge with your top teeth biting on your bottom lip hard. Daisy gives you a side eye, walking away weirded out from the interaction.

You ride the last of your orgasm as she walks away starting to ride your hips shamelessly against his mouth as the last wave heats from your center and even makes a pit stop in your head. Eddie peaks his head from behind the table cloth, mouth wet, and a twinkle in his eye as he looks up at you. If you see this face and only this image of his face for the rest of your life you will die happy. “How was that sweetheart?”

“What was that, five minutes?” You ask, grinding your hips lightly as he rubs your labia lightly, teasing how sensitive you now were.

“More like three and a half but who’s counting.” Eddie jokes, sliding to sit back next to you. You notice he’s holding your panties in his hand, sticks in his leather jacket pocket. “You were so fucking wet, which helped a bit, I must admit.” Eddie comments, taking a sip from his water. As soon as the glass his the table his lips are on yours, maneuvering the two of you so you’re intertwined, one leg on his yet still sitting.

He wraps your lips up in a magnificent kiss, connecting his tongue onto yours as soon as he could, just needing the very taste in your mouth. You could taste yourself in his saliva, the very idea absurdly hot. You stay like that, willing to take in whatever you can, taste from him, your hand make it’s way up into his long hair and gripping at the scalp, managing a whine out of him. You can’t help but giggle at his response and he jerks back, his eyes assessing you for a moment, carefully. “What are you giggling at?”

Eddie leans into kiss you, further left than your lips. He leans down to your jaw line, kissing it down and down to your neck. You lean back as he starts to bite and suck on your skin, causing little whimpers out from your pretty lips. “So pretty, so needy.” Eddie comments as your eyes roll back at his love bites.

“Here is you- oh, sorry.” Daisy says, carrying both your appetizers. She sets them down carefully, and Eddie barely moves from where you’re both stationed, as if he was proud of being interrupted in the middle of marking your neck. “A-anything else I can grab the both of you?”

You look at her name tag to check it’s the same waitress who shamelessly flirted with Eddie right in front of you, because she can barely look you in the eye.

“Uh yeah, Daisy can you just leave us alone for about fifteen, twenty minutes then bring us a check? Nice hefty tip in it for ya.” Eddie says, looking at his nails as he says it. It’s rude but it gets his message across. Don’t bother us.

“Got it. Be back in twenty minutes with your bill.” She says, and walks off with out another word, blushing furiously. If she had worked at this restaurant long enough to know when to flirt, wouldn’t she be used to a request like this?

“Alright we have twenty minutes.” Eddie states, and you realized his belt was already unbuckled and his button undone. “C’mon get on.”

“You wanna?” You ask, nodding to his now free cock.

“That was the point, was it not?” He asks, and it’s almost unlike him the way he’s propositioning you. Usually, he’s soft and restrained in his methods. Even when he’s asking you for a quickie there’s a softer tone.

Right now, he basically point-blank said to just get on his dick. This side of him doesn’t usually come out until you’re already on it, using slut-shaming as a method to egg you and him on. However, the most surprising thing about it was this had worked on you. You were turned on by how rough he was. “I guess, I thought we were doing just hand stuff.”

“That’s ok for the lighter booths. This is not the one for hand stuff. It’s in a corner for a reason. C’mon. Hop on daddy’s dick.” He says, wrapping his arm around your waist to tug you closer to his hips.

It doesn’t take much convincing for you. You move your leg around his hip so you’re straddling him, and your dress is scrunched up to your stomach, revealing your ass to anyone who would pass you by. He lines his cock up to your entrance, rubbing and tapping lightly, teasing you. “We have fifteen minutes, put your fucking cock-” before you could even finish your sentence he pushes himself into you and your eyes roll into the back of your head as he fills you up.

He starts fucking you, foregoing any waiting period due to how wet you already were. After letting you enjoy his continuously improving hip thrusts and technique he stops, moving his hands to your hips. “Alright. Your turn. Ride me, baby.”

You start to move your hips, rolling them so his cock his a spot you need it to every time. You were perched tall and your mouth in a small oh shape, gasping out little moans as you worked your hips. Eddie reaches down to expose a tit, starting to massage and kiss at it. “Oh you little slut, couldn’t even wait until we got home, eh?”

“You didn’t- oh- you didn’t give me much choice.” You gasped out, staring at Eddie as he still wraps his tongue around your budded nipple. “I would do so much for you, daddy.”

“Oh, you have, baby. You have. Oh shit- yeah keep riding me like that, oh, shit. Gonna fill you up.” Eddie grunts, starting to help you as you ride him.

“Already?” You half joke, feeling as his thrusts become more erratic and harder.

“Oh I’ll fill you the amount of times fifteen minutes gives me, sweetheart. Whether that be once or six times, you’ll be dripping in me by the time we leave.” Eddie continues to thrust into you, and you’re basically literally hopping on it. He freezes all of the sudden, his face jerking in a small O shape as you feel him fill you up.

“More?” You ask after a moment as he catches his breath while he’s still in you.

“You want more?” Eddie asks, his hands on your hips, rubbing your stomach lightly with his thumbs. As he rubs your stomach, feeling it grumble in hunger. “Hungry, sweetheart?”

“A little.” You admit, thinking about the smell of the still fresh bread.

“Hmm. One more then we’ll sit down and eat?” Eddie asks, starting to fuck into you again.

It felt too good to pass up. You nod as he continues faster, licking your two pointer fingers rub at your clit to help yourself and him and you two enjoyed taking your time but it seemed the combined hunger and the combined lust you two felt just turned into this animalistic need for one another and for food.

Is this what cavemen felt?

By the end your nails were digging deep into his neck, he’s holding your ass hard enough to cause bruising. Your legs are sore from doing a lot of the work and you’re out of breath and usually you would take a time out from it, but you were just horny and hungry and wanted him.

You grabbed at his scalp, scratching your hand into grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling. Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of his head, most times you missed is when he knew your eyes were closed. It was basically that and the fact that he was unloading for the second time into you within ten minutes that had you be able to cum yourself, lurching yourself into his chest. An instinct that took over you for a moment startled Eddie, but he was ready to help how you needed. You just needed to be held. Specifically by this man, this man who you just experienced this moment with, this bonding just completely shook you.

The first thing he did to help was make sure if you cried long enough for Daisy to come with the check you were decent, (and so was he.) He only offered to hold you, offered bread when given the chance, which you graciously accepted, as you were still hungry. “You okay?”

“I’m okay.” You say softly, offering him some spinach dip. He slurped it off your fingers, in attempt to make you laugh, and it worked.

“Hey you laughed!” And you knew why you were crying.

“What you thought I was sad?” You ask as if you knew this whole time. “I’m really fucking happy, baby. I just didn’t know how to respond or process it, so my brain went to crying. ”

“No regret? Shame? We’re okay?” Eddie asks, just to be sure.

You nod, leaning in for a nice chaste kiss. You two are hushed conversation, teasing one another in a game of “oh I can take you on” for different board games Eddie knew about. You weren’t very competitive but with Eddie during games, especially when he cheats, is always a winner so you had to figure out how to stop him.

Daisy knocks twice on the booth, and Eddie yells out “We’re good!” You giggle, pushing him as he gives annoying kisses to your face. “Hi guys, here’s the bill.”

A pang of guilt as you see her face again is presented to you, in the after glow of cumming as hard as you did. The flyaways in her hair frame her face nicely, her pimple looks like she had picked at it so now it’s a scab, ouch, and the green in her teeth hasn’t been fixed. She looks like a fucking person. Not some whore who’s trying to take your boyfriend.

“Hey Daisy. I’m so sorry, you have something stuck in your teeth.” You tell her with the kindest voice you could muster so she knew you weren’t being catty. “I also wanted to say your lip gloss is amazing. Both times I’ve come they have stayed on your lips the whole time. Are you just like reapplying consistently or do you have gloss you need to tell me about?”

It all came out at once, but you did want to know. Reapplying gloss at work gets so taxing sometimes. “Uh thanks, I think it’s by MAC.” She pauses as Eddie looks at the check, lost in your conversation all the sudden. She pauses but he takes another minute to get his wallet out. “I got it when we had the mall. There is a MAC across down, like ten minute drive and way out of the way but it’s the exact store. All their glosses stay forever.”

“Baby, grab your jacket before you pay.” You request, getting him to listen to you before he does. You take out 100 from his pocket, (the food was 20 bucks maybe), and say “Keep the change, and thanks for giving us the time. We’ll make sure to get this booth next time.”

“Uh, sure. Have a great night, guys.” The only thing that would’ve made it weirder if she apologized for flirting with him last time. She didn’t, life isn’t always a movie.

As you follow Eddie out, yanking his leather jacket as he had promised and it’s nearly Christmas and you’re out side at 9’clock you were gonna need it. The leather jacket fitted nicely down to your hemline of your dress, showing exactly what you wanted to.

Your hands are once again interlocked, talking softly as he drove gently back to his trailer. It was an off week so you weren’t spending the night but your curfew was midnight so you might as well be. “You know, Steve made a joke about you me and him yesterday, and I was like ‘You can’t handle another threesome from us.’” You partially joke.

“Oh I dunno I heard some shit I gotta have to chance to see. Why was I the dude that sucked dick I wanted a turn. Plus, I wanted him to top me.” Sounds like he had thoroughly thought this through before.

“Oh baby.” You say giggling, feeling hazy and ready to sleep for hours. “I love you, but you could not take Steve Harrington. I can’t-” You stop, and wake right back up when you realize what you had just said. “Did I just say…” you drift off.

Eddie slows down as he hits the gravel in his trailer park, breathing heavily as he barely reaches 5 miles per hour right to his spot. “Yeah, you just said.” Eddie nods, wondering if he had heard you right.

“When I was talking about-”

“Steve Harrington railing me? Yeah, you did.” There’s a smile in his undertone, letting you know he was quite pleased. “Did you mean it?” He asks, and the word is suddenly choking him, refusing to stay in

“Yeah. I do.” You say, petting his hand gently as you veered into his beautiful brown eyes.

“Fuck, I love you too.” He mutters, under his breath and completely winded by it the word finally breaking free of his throat. “I love you. I love you.” You giggle as Eddie holds your forehead and aggressively smooch into your forehead. “Fuck I’ve wanted to say that for weeks. I love you.”

You smile, thinking how he was sounding like a love struck dope, something that you usually fell into. How much it would’ve been true if Eddie, with his emotional trauma, was saying it.

“I love you.” You wanted to say it on purpose instead the middle of a random already forgotten sentence. “I really love you. I love you.” It came out as you were connected by the foreheads and his response is a sharp inhale and he kissed you in full force.

That was the night you fucked three more times until you went home.

That Saturday morning you spent twenty minutes asking yourself if last night was real, if any of your life was real. Remembering the look his eyes as he cradled you, fucking you gently, rolling his hips ever so slowly. You’ve never felt so loved before, by anyone, let alone any man.

You found it hard not to giggle as you run downstairs to grab some breakfast. You were spreading butter on a bagel with a stupid smile on your face when your mom slides right next to you, arms crossed and facial expression unreadable. You nearly ask what’s wrong when the memory of you slipping through your window last night hits your face, Eddie saying ‘we’ll deal with it in the morning.’

Well, it’s morning.

“Hi.” You mutter, starting to munch on the bagel absentmindedly.

The sound of her sigh invades your ears, and you’re scared for your social life. “Hi. I think you can guess what I would like to talk about.”

“I have some guesses.” You joke, leaning up against your counter.

“I know you’re 18. Technically you’re an adult. Hell when I was 18 I was already in college doing much more scandalous things than sneaking out my bedroom window.” She admits, mostly to herself than to you. “Sometimes I think I’m pretty lucky to have a girl who started rebelling in her senior year and still manages to keep her grades up.” She sighs, looking around her, wondering how the hell she was going to get the message across. “Look, honey something has been going on in this town. Every time something goes on, every year, I have no idea where you are until hours after when I’m picking you up all bloodied and bruised up like you’d gone to war. I’ve never asked because you don’t seem too keen on telling me. Me knowing where you are has nothing to do with your boyfriend who plays guitar or being controlling. It has to do with Hawkins. I just need to know you are safe. If you two are so insistent on using the damn window then tell me good bye that you’re heading out. I don’t want to fight the wrong fight on this.”

It had never occurred to you that she had been curious about the number of times you needed a ride home sporting some new bruises, she never talked about it, never asked. You wonder if her and Karen ever talk about it.

“So I can keep using the window, I just have to tell you when I’m leaving?” You ask, making sure it was clear.

“Yes. You looked happy. Hate to burst your bubble. Anything on your mind?”

Your body felt like it was about to explode. “I told him I loved him. He said it back. It was a pretty nice date.”

“Must’ve been. Chef’s Table, I bet?” She asks, starting to clean up the kitchen post-breakfast.

“I never agreed nor denied.” You comment, shoving the last of your bagel in your mouth.

She lets it slide, knowing that you have even told her you had used the L word was a pretty big miracle in the land of raising Teenage Girls. “Any plans for the day?”

“El just got in from the airport, she’s staying at the Wheelers so I’m going to stop in and say hi to her.” There was a hint of excitement, having been months since you’ve last seen her. Fresh from a winning battle yet mysteriously lost her powers. From what Mike informs you her letters express having made several friends and enjoying California. You’re mostly jealous she’s not suffering an Indiana winter and in the Californian winter.

“Alright. Go on. Start telling me when you’re leaving the house. I don’t need to know where you are all the time. Just tell me where you are.” You finish off chewing the rest of your bagel, running up the stairs to grab your bags and keys to head out.

The moment you arrive at the Wheelers you can tell everyone had beaten you to it. It was only 9 in the morning how was everyone already there? You mention a hello to Karen on the way down the stairs, noting her flustered stature as she rushes to make snacks for 8 hungry teenagers. She didn’t seem too bothered, this was her in her prime.

“Someone slept in this morning!” Steve welcomes you as you walk down the stairs.

“How are you all here, it’s barely 9.” You comment, knowing all the boys sleep in on the weekends.

“I live here and you won’t leave.” Mike states, sitting on the couch with El on his lap. You tilt your head, noting his hypocrisy.

“We all slept over in the basement last night.” Max states, sitting separately on the couch, Lucas at her feet.

“Oh damn. I mean when Steve got us the table he didn’t really give us a choice to the date of the reservation.” You comment, leaning up against a table next to Robin, placing your head on her shoulder.

She bumps her shoulder and Nancy comes from across the room. “Ooh, how was your date anyhow?” She attempts to ask you in a hushed tone, but it doesn’t work. Steve announcing your entrance was enough to keep everyone’s attention on you still.

“Yeah I’m not saying shit while the younglings are here. You’ll have to hold.” You state, aware of your audience.

Steve comes over, dumb little smirk on his face. “So there is something to say? A good night in the best booth in the restaurant, eh?” He asks, elbowing you obnoxiously.

You roll your eyes, and Steve takes it as confirmation. Walking away, you yank onto El’s hand, causing her to help as you lift her surprisingly easily to give her a hug. “Hi, El.” You greet her, and it feels like old times when she holds onto you tightly like you to her.

“Hi.” She smiles, and you look at her hair, brushed somewhat and looking more like Joyce’s.

“Good flight?” You ask as she crosses her arms self consciously. Mike reaches out behind her to soothe her, and sometimes you forget how well Mike knows her.

“Ears hurt.” She shrugs, and it’s the only thing she has to comment on. “You went on a date?”

“Yeah, with my boyfriend.” You confirm, and while you and El weren’t close like her and Max, it’s still weird to you that she knows next to nothing about Eddie. Probably because El was almost a gateway conversation into the upside down for you. You couldn’t not associate the two.

“Babe.” Interrupts the two of you, tugging her back. You shoot a warning glance, telling Mike she doesn’t get to hog her. Mike rolls his eyes. “You know Eddie, the guy I was telling you about? The one who leads Hellfire and is like, a total badass?” The look on El’s face tells you she recognizes the name, and the falsehood of Eddie’s reputation to even his freshmen might be the death of you. “Yeah, that’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh.” El comments, and with the doe-eyed facial expression she gives you it’s all she needs to tell you.

“He’s much sweeter than his reputation.” You mutter to her, and Mike tugs her back to his lap.

“I refuse to believe that.” Mike comments, and the conversation is over. “Is Eddie coming over?” Mike asks you, watching the tv just next to you.

“I didn’t realize it was a big get together, honestly.” You admit, wondering if it would be odd for him to join.

“Well call him up and bring him over! We need some of that competitive spirit for our games, woman!” Dustin yells from across the room, haphazardly throwing you the phone.

“Are we playing games for the day? When did anybody communicate this to me?” You ask, dialling Ed’s number.

“If you were here last night, you would know.” Steve comments, a tone saying he had you.

“I didn’t set the date for my reservation, Steve. You picked the closest available date and just plopped it into our hands. Literally.” It was a folded piece of paper he tossed at you at work one night after you asked for the date.

“Just get him over here.”

Turns out, El loves Eddie. He’s loud, obnoxious, and charismatic. El hasn’t had much experience with someone so loud yet so welcoming to her. He gave her a seat at the table when he had offered to host DnD only if everyone played. (To your surprise and to Eddie’s everyone did.)

Sometime during the night when one of the newer players are being explained a concept thoroughly by Dustin, Eddie looks to you, same dopey look he wore last night. You sat right next to him, looking around the corner of his books. “Love you.” He mutters, proud of being able to say it to you and you saying it back to him.

“Love you.” You mutter back, leaning in for a sappy kiss.

“Love?” Nancy asks, leaning in and making sure she heard right.

“Last night.” You whisper, winking at her widened eyes.

The game finishes off with Eddie’s final boss being ripped to shreds by some of the newcomers, and you can tell it’s on purpose. He had once confessed Eddie gives easier creatures to newer players, it gives them incentives to continue to play. DnD is a hard game to get into, it’s easier when you have the confidence.

Max is sitting in the corner when all is done, some by the N64, others sitting in a circle talking on the floor. She has her Walkman on her hip as she normally does, and you can hear the vague notes to the music she was playing. You raise your eyebrow to her, the international symbol for “Are you good?”

She nods, hugging her legs. Max comes to sit down next to her, unsure how to help, yet comforting all the while.

“Hey baby.” Eddie mutters when all the DnD is tidied up.

“Hi. I think they’re all planning to stay over for a while.” You comment, and it doesn’t look like anyone was planning on leaving anytime soon.

“That’s alright. An extra night with this crowd is always a plus.” He answers, enwrapping you in his arms.

“Hey El. Any reason why Johnathan and Will stayed?” You ask, knowing Nancy probably missed her boyfriend.

El looked over, munching on the chips in Mike’s bowl. “Wanted to spend Christmas with Joyce.” She said, looking to Mike for reassurance, for which he obliges.

There was a follow up question you had wanted to ask, but Eddie would have questions. Was it weird being in town? Why would it be weird?

Since El received more time off for her Christmas vacation, she’d be in town for two weeks. The only downside to that is she starts school earlier in the summer than you do. You still had to go to school for Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday until your Christmas break started. While Mike was at school, she would spend the days with Karen or just generally in town. It didn’t seem like it was planned well, but any questions were met with defensiveness.

“She’s cool.” Eddie comments, you still wrapped in his arms. “Why she with him?”

“He’s good to her when others weren’t. I’ll just say that.” You comment, and Eddie veers at you questioningly. “It’s not my story to tell.”

The rest of the day was a movie marathon, the whole crown collectively booing Steve’s choices, Robin proudly leading the banter. To rub in the salt, you offer the same movie Steve offered and the entire group agrees to it, saying it was a satisfying movie with a great ending. Steve grows flustered, going in the corner with his hands on his hips. As you place the tape into the VCR, Eddie goes to where Steve is sulking, partially joking but mostly sincerely comforting him.

“It’s okay, not everyone understands your clearly superior tastes.” Eddie comforts him, sitting Steve so he’s joined the rest of the crowd.

You expected Eddie to sit down next to you again but he sits down beside Steve, petting his hair comfortingly. “I swear if you hadn’t snatched him up, Steve might have.” Robin says, coming to sit next to you.

“Well that” you say, pointing to them now leaning on one another, “is your fault for the night. You say you hate when Eddie and him gain up on you at work then you basically guide them into one another’s arms. Are you trying, Buckley?”

“Are you?” Robin asks, and you have no rebuttal.

Christmas rolled around, and you spent more time with your boyfriend and your collective family than you would’ve liked to admit. He was a good sport as your mom asked him to do favours consistently through the nights spent in your home living room. Eddie and Wayne came over for the 23rd and 24th, you doing a gift exchange at the Wheelers on the 25th and spending that night over at the Munsons, a courtesy your mom had given you despite your dad’s protests.

Your gift to Eddie was special made dice with the same pattern as his most priced possession; his guitar. You weren’t even sure the advertisement had gotten your request for special made dice at one of the nerd shops you visited the town over, until you gotten a phone call. The look on his face when the dice were opened was priceless, whispering “no fucking way” as he examines the dice more closely. You had also gifted some high quality paints for his figurines and a new set up for him to be able to place his papers and maps in front of him.

I could tell you what Ed had gifted you, but that would take the fun out of it now wouldn’t it. Take the perfect give and multiply it by five. That’s what he gave you.

You had a second gift for him, only available the night you spent over at his house. As you undressed yourself, unwrapping yourself to reveal the red lacey lingerie bra and the crotchless panties upholstered to some red sheer stockings, he only took a moment to appreciate his view before ravishing you until it was no longer Christmas.

TAG LIST: @emturtles @yourthebrokengirl @steeldaisies @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven

[send an ask or reply to this if you want to be added to the list.]

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson x fem #eddie munson x afab

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jess-moloney · 3 months

Text

So the average waist side of a woman in the States is 38.7 inches. Even with the stretch that Renell says these have that still doesn't reach 38 inches. Which means these $189 capris are not meant for anyone of average size. Isn't it kind of a bad thing when your XL size is smaller than the average size of your customers or is that just me? Also I noticed on their website they have the two small icon/pics of the capris but if you click on them you don't get to see a different image/angle. If you visit on mobile you get an option to see 3 different images but the third one never loads.

It's also a pre-order and it will ship in four weeks but it's supposed to be for summer so I guess you can wear it for like one month in actual summer if it gets to you that fast (or at all). Do these people even know how to do merch drops? It was announced as being dropped at noon eastern time today but nothing say sold out yet. I guess it won't ever say that because it's pre-order, but on their old website they had a bunch of stuff listed for pre-order that was also sold out.

Doesn't make any damn sense because can't you just take all the pre-orders you get? How do you sell out of something you haven't even ordered yet? I guess we'll see what happens. You can also get an extremely similar-looking item here for a fraction of the price. The only "benefit" you get for the price with these capris is the giant ICE logo on the side.

There's also this t-shirt for $75 dollars, I don't know if that tiny image is supposed to be the view of the back but when I click it, it doesn't load.

There's no sizing chart to this whatsoever, but according to their below average sizing chart for the capris I'm gonna say that there's absolutely no way to trust what size you might actually be getting. You can also get similar shirts made of the same material for about half the price. Once again the only benefit is the Ice Studio logo. You're paying for the logo.

Now, I get fashion and how it works, don't get me wrong, I get that people pay for the logo all the time but what the fuck does Ice Studios do that people would want to overpay for the "privilege" of having that logo on them? They aren't Gucci, Tommy Hilfiger, do people really buy these things just because of a studio that no one else knows? That doesn't do anything other than I guess take photos of people and make some videos? I'm not saying the photographs are bad (nor are the videos) but I can't see who would be such a fan of this stuff that they would shell out nearly $600 for a full outfit. This would be including the sunglasses cause you gotta "look cool" right?

There's also no way for me to remove an item from the bag. I mean at all. So say I clicked on the wrong size pants or decided I didn't want them but I did want the shirt. Too bad for me because now I have to buy them both. I tried leaving the website, refreshing, hovering over the pictures, no fucking options to get them out of my cart. Everything about this is awful, including the fact that they still have no publicly posted TOS or return policy. Anyone who trusts this website to send them anything is an idiot.

Jess promoted this on her IG story and it's weird that the drop happened the same exact day that Jamie's new song was coming out. I don't know if this was planned on purpose but I assume that Jess shared these when she did because she knows that Jamie's fans will be on his IG for his stuff and see that she promoted a story and look at it (if they follow her) which means extra traffic. The fact that she's involved with all of this and this is how poorly the "business" is run is just bad. Jess should be able to do better and know better with all her alleged education in this area. Why can neither of them design a working website or hire someone to do it for them?

The website credits another designing company as doing it for them but seeing the results...which is this...I personally wouldn't use them for anything. Ugh. This is either some kind of scam or these people are just the dumbest business women on the planet at this point.

-X

#jess moloney #ice studios #thoughts

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violetsareblue-selfships · 1 year

Text

Twins?

Ship: Raiden Ei x April [Background EiMiko x April] | Word Count: 1473 | Warnings/Tags: First Person POV, food mention, very mild jealousy (like hinted at mostly)

A/N: happy birthday, ei~ -- so it's interesting that she was like alluding to makoto in her birthday letter when I already planned on posting this today hehe <3 I hope you enjoy it~

Hearing that I've been summoned to Tenshukaku would ordinarily be a cause for concern. Why would the Raiden Shogun call for someone personally if they weren't in trouble or needed for something?

But after our last date together, both Yae and Raiden have expressed a desire to have one-on-one dates with me. I get it. They likely want to see if I act different or show a different side of myself to them alone.

If we're going to keep dating, it was bound to happen eventually.

Yae hasn't yet found me for a date, but it seems that Raiden's found enough free time to call me to her.

So, instead of panicking and rushing there like the same announcement would have caused me to weeks ago, I smile and thank the soldiers and ask for a moment to get ready. They relax a little at the fact I didn't try to send them away (apparently Raiden had requested they accompany me there so I didn't get stopped at the gates).

I dress up a tiny bit, switching out my plain shirt for a pretty blouse and deciding that the skirt I'm wearing is pretty enough. I grab a light jacket in case the wind picks up as well as my keys and everything else I usually leave the house with.

"Hmm…" It feels a bit odd to be going to Tenshukaku without anything to give to Raiden. I hear it's considered good etiquette to bring her something, and while this may not be usual circumstances, it likely would still be a good idea…

I scan the room for literally anything, my eyes brightening when I spot the tray of brownies I had made earlier. I pack a few of them up, enough that she could give some to Yae if she so desires, and I finally leave my house.

"Are you ready to go?" One of the soldiers asks and I nod. They accompany me the entire walk, which feels a little weird.

Everyone in town is staring at me. No doubt they think I've done something wrong to be accompanied by the Shogunate soldiers like this, but I wonder if my calmness is confusing them. Normally a person would look anxious, not like they're headed to afternoon tea.

Once we set foot into Tenshukaku, there's another person waiting to accompany me to the room Raiden's in. I thank them and follow behind them, surprised to hear two voices coming from the room as we draw close, both voices sounding similar.

My questions are both answered and doubled when I'm allowed to enter the room. Is this some kind of trick of my imagination? There are two of them sitting in front of me.

It's a little odd the way their expressions both soften, though in slightly different ways. I feel a sense of familiarity with one more than the other, even though they're identical, I can still tell somehow. The one on the right is the Raiden I've been going out with along with Yae. The one on the left… I don't know what to make of her.

"Hmm, I suppose this was a confusing way to do this." My Raiden says, her expression turning apologetic. "I should have considered how odd it would be for you."

"So you're twins?" I ask quietly, looking between the two.

"In a way." My Raiden holds her hand out to me and I step forward to take it, allowing her to pull me to sit beside her. "April, meet my sister, Makoto."

Makoto smiles at me. "Sorry to have confused you. It is lovely to meet the girl Ei's talking so sweetly about."

"It's nice to meet you too." I say softly. She's nice, really sweet actually. Not that Ei isn't, Ei just has a more stoic side to her at times.

"What is it you have there?" She asks and I blink. I'd nearly forgotten the brownies in my hands. If I had known about Makoto, I would have packed more…

I pass the package over to Raiden (is it too early for me to call her Ei?) and she opens them up, gasping softly at the sight of the brownies. It makes Makoto smile and she giggles at my confusion. "Didn't you know? My sister has a weak spot for desserts."

"Ah, I didn't. I made some this morning and figured it'd be a good enough thing to bring… Besides, I thought this was going to be…" I trail off and Raiden looks at me.

"It is what you're thinking. I merely wanted to introduce you to Makoto. You'd need to meet her eventually given that you might run into her out on the streets of Inazuma City." Raiden explains and I nod. I could see why she'd need to explain.

"How is it I never knew there were two of you?" I ask quietly. It would be major news to have twin archons or is only one of them the archon? I don't know the specifics here…

"We rule jointly. You would have never needed to know if not for the way you're growing close to Miko and I." Raiden says and I hum.

Makoto smiles a little. "We're both good at different things so we each handle what our strengths are. Which is why you would see me in Inazuma City. I tend to be the one interacting most directly with our people."

"Okay. If no one knows that you're twins, then in public, should I treat you both the same?" I ask, more referring to the way I'm dating Raiden than anything.

"Mm. Most likely, yes. Hand-holding and hugs would be fine." Raiden says, her eyes flashing a little. "However, I'd prefer to keep anything else to just us."

Makoto laughs. "Calm down, sister. I think she meant the first two. It would be confusing for the people for her to not be close to us on certain days."

"True." Raiden says with a sigh. "I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me."

"Yes, you do!" Makoto teases. "You were the same way with Miko when you introduced her to me."

Raiden huffs and Makoto laughs, leaning over and patting her shoulder softly. "I think I'll take my leave now. Have fun, you two." With that, she carefully rises to her feet and leaves the room.

"Again, I apologize. I didn't mean to sound so possessive of you." Raiden says once we're alone. I giggle and lean up against her a little shyly.

"It's alright. But, if I may ask, why did your mind jump to kisses? We haven't yet…" I trail off and her cheeks go pink.

"I… I might have been considering it. I still need to talk it over with Miko, so I'm afraid it won't happen today, but it's still been on my mind." Raiden says and my heart skips a beat, leaving me feeling a little shaky.

"If it makes you feel better, I've been thinking about it too." I say and her next breath is shaky. "Why don't you have one of the brownies?" I ask with a grin. "You should have told me you liked sweets! I'd be bringing them to our dates more often."

Her eyes widen and start to sparkle a little and I giggle. Uh-oh. Have I created a monster in saying that? "You're too sweet." She murmurs, carefully picking up one of the brownies and taking a bite. Her eyes flutter a little as a grin spreads across her face. "This is exquisite. You never told me you could bake."

I laugh softly. "Uhh, I'm pretty sure I did. Back when we met. I think Yae immediately tried to distract you from it though." I say and she hums.

"You're right. Well, I wouldn't mind if you baked more for me in the future."

"I can do that." I say with a grin. "Though, Raiden…"

"Ei. I think we've been dating long enough that you're allowed that privilege by now."

A small smile spreads across my face, "Then, Ei, you'll have to give me a list of your favorite desserts so I know which would be best to bring you."

She laughs softly. "That won't be necessary. Anything sweet is to my tastes. Honestly, I don't know if I have a favorite." She says and I giggle softly.

"Noted."

"So, since this is a date, what do you say to a walk around the gardens after I finish this?" She asks, gesturing with the brownie.

"That sounds perfect." I say and she smiles at me, wrapping her free arm around me and tugging me a little closer.

"Good."

I lean against her while she eats the brownie, looking forward to spending the next few hours with her. It's going to be so fun getting to be alone with her.

#self shipping #self ship #self ship fic #self insert fic #self insert fanfiction #self insert #canon x si #canon x self insert #self insert x canon #an everlasting love 💖🍰#our love shines eternal 💞🌸#my writing

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sonosvegliato · 11 months

Note

what’s the most interesting thing you’ve learned while doing research for your fic?

Today I clicked on a funeral home website to figure out the difference between a mausoleum and a crypt?

There are a couple smaller details that I had to look up and confirm; does New Jersey have magnolias (apparently they're more of a southern thing?), side note---who didn't tell me NJ wasn't in New England. What do you mean. It's a tiny northern state. That's not New England?? I guess it's middle Atlantic or something?? Like Virginia? Smh.

I looked up McDonalds in D.C. for a deleted scene, I had to ask a friend about collectible shoes for the scene where Tim trying to race out of his house in now you will not swell the rout, I got on a pizza website to figure out a reasonable price for like five pizzas and wings, some stuff about proper burial practices, whether or not Steak and Shake still existed, if there were Hardees in NJ, if Pedialyte was an actual athlete thing or just something weird runners do (it's both), flavors of Doritos, multiple reddit searches of best gas station snacks, what the lights are called in shipping yards (they're just called lights in shipping yards), multiple pages of math trying to keep ages consistent (see edit in hold the low lintel up), if there was a band poster for Simple Plan, how to put a bike on a bus, what hockey gear actually looks like, what a kid's karate headgear would look like (deleted scene), how to use a payphone, how tall is one floor, hospital security (sorry Homeland!! I'm a writer you know this by now), can you put teeth back in your mouth, what is the Floo Network, the history of Atlantic City, how to hack (sorry again Homeland; thanks Flores!!), Mr. Pickle Deli, what a reuben is, how to play ping-pong (thanks Flores x2), difference between ping-pong and table tennis, vintage arcade games, flowers, what's CCTV, what the colors on canes mean, how to make salsa, rabies shots (you apparently? don't get them in your stomach? that's an older thing?), how hair is used in drug tests, fancy foods butlers would make...

#*sweats* this is totally normal I promise #my fic #thanks for asking!

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snippy-tano · 3 years

Note

Hello! I hope you're having an amazing day! If possible, could I request tiny hands in big hands from the touches ask game with Rex?

Wowowowowowow this was so much fun to write. I actually had this idea with something that was totally and completely unrelated. but then I had an epiphany at like 2am last night that it would fit this ask exactly and I had to write it asap. It’s just so fluffy and cute and ack I want it.

I hope you enjoy it anon! Let me know what you think!

Masterlist is here!

Taglist is here!

Tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @marvel-starwars-nerd @mackstrut @dissapointingpancake @ahsokatano-thetogruta @welcometothepedroverse @lightning-wolffe @fractiouskat @mandaloriandin @lussyyung @lowkeyodinsong @str-wrs-fics @bantha-shit @badbatch-simp24 @katelynnwrites @s1st3r @leotatombs @torchbearerkyle @luna-schaf @oh-delphinia @dominhoe-squad @kaermorons @leotatombs

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Code

It was the middle of the night and you were still working.

Which really wasn’t out of the ordinary, all things considered. You were used to late nights and early mornings, today wasn’t any different. You’d been up since the crack of dawn and it was nearing the middle of the night. You were positive you had bags under your eyes, but there really wasn’t any helping your situation.

It was the nature of working with the GAR.

And at this point, you didn’t even think anything of it anymore. It was just part of the job.

Which is why walking through the halls around 2am didn’t feel weird. And it didn’t feel out of the ordinary when Echo jogged up to you and matched your pace after calling your name.

“How goes it, Echo?” You asked, closing your data pad you had been typing on to give the ARC trooper your full attention. He shrugged, making his armor clink together.

“I’m still standing. Why are you still up? Isn’t your shift over?” He asked, gesturing to your more relaxed clothing.

It was your turn to shrug. “I have a lot to get done before the morning, so I thought I might as well be comfortable while doing it.”

Echo nodded once before clearing his throat. “Have you seen Captain Rex lately?”

You couldn’t help the clenching of your heart when he said Rex’s name. It was an involuntary response you had only recently began noticing. It took far too long (and a few conversations with friends back on Coruscant) before you realized your warm feelings towards the Captain may be a little more than just “friendship feelings.”

It had been a surprise, but one that only made more and more sense as time continued on.

You’d done a good job keeping it under wraps, but knowing you, it was only a matter of time before someone caught on, especially considering how much time you spent with the men aboard this ship.

“Not recently, why? Is he okay?” You asked, turning to look at Echo who sighed.

“No one has seen him since dinner. He was heading towards his office and I’m not even sure if he had dinner or not.” Echo admitted and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’ll find him. You don’t have to worry about it.” You said and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, I don’t really have time to track him down. I would, don’t get me wrong, I’d love nothing more, but I can’t leave Fives alone with the shinys.” Echo replied and you laughed.

“Definitely don’t want that. Don’t worry Echo, I’ll find him.”

Echo gave you a pat on your arm before bidding goodbye and jogging away towards the barracks. You hesitated before heading for the mess hall. Echo had mentioned he wasn’t sure if Rex had eaten or not. Even if he had, if he was planning on pulling an all-nighter, he’d get hungry at some point so food wouldn’t be amiss.

The short detour didn’t take long and before you knew it, you were standing outside of Rex’s “office.”

It technically was an unused supply closet, but a few months ago, you and some of the men had repurposed it so that Rex could use it as an office. He may only be a Captain, but with all of his responsibilities, he needed a space where he wouldn’t be bothered by the men. And you and the men had been more than happy to help him with that.

The room was still registered as a storage room, but you were pretty sure General Skywalker knew it had been renovated for Rex. And you were pretty sure he didn’t care one bit.

You looked both directions before punching in the new code.

Rex kept changing the code every time one of the men cracked it. The space was a way to get away from his brothers so that he could work. It made it pretty hard to do that when they kept barging in.

Hence why Rex kept changing it.

You and him were the only ones who knew it at the moment. It wouldn’t take long before they cracked it again, but you were going to make sure it wasn’t you who revealed it to the men.

You had been surprised when Rex had given you the code right after he changed it for the first time about a month ago. You hadn’t realized you two had grown close enough that he’d trust you with that information. You supposed the many late nights working and getting to know each other must have helped. All those times you brought him food and just worried about him must have meant something to him too. Despite all of that, you had still been honored that he trusted you enough to give you and only you the code that you had done your absolute best to make sure the code didn’t fall into the wrong hands.

Namely Fives.

The door opened softly and you carefully slid inside, letting the door shut behind you. Rex was hunched over his desk, seemingly fast asleep with his datapad on in front of him.

You let out a soft sigh before carefully stepping further inside.

The room itself was a mess of different furniture you’d managed to scramble together on your short stints back on Coruscant. There was a desk, a cabinet, a lamp, a small couch, and even a mini hydrator. That had been tricky to sneak onboard, taking nearly all of Torrent company to pull off.

But you had succeeded and the place felt more homey.

You quietly opened the hydrator and slid the food you had gotten for Rex inside, that way he’d have it when he woke up. You dimmed the lights and grabbed the small throw blanket that was draped across the back of the couch for days when Rex (or anyone else, you included) decided to take a nap.

You moved slowly, tiptoeing closer to Rex, biting on your lip to try and remain as quiet as possible. There was a small piece of flimsy on his desk and you quickly scribbled out a note about the food in the fridge for him, signing your name at the bottom. You placed it where he’d see it the moment he lifted his head.

When you finished, you gently unraveled the blanket and placed it over his shoulders. He had the hindsight to remove most of the pieces of his armor when he had sat down, so you at least knew he was comfortable. He stirred slightly when the blanket made contact with his broad shoulders, causing you to hold your breath.

But he didn’t wake. You waited a few more seconds before covering him more fully, taking a moment to look at his sleeping face.

Rex looked so much more peaceful when he was sleeping. He looked relax and so so young.

It made you wish he had a chance to live a life he wanted to live, one where he wasn’t a soldier.

But fate had other plans.

You let out a soft sigh, giving him one last look before turning to leave and give Rex the chance to rest without anyone disturbing him.

Your heart leapt into your throat when you felt a hand tighten around your wrist.

You let out a strangled noise of surprise, spinning and finding yourself staring at familiar golden eyes.

Uh oh. He’s awake.

You were so startled that you completely froze, an apology on the tip of your tongue.

Rex continued to stare at you and you could feel your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. His eyes slipped from yours to your wrist in his hand and then to the note you had scribbled for him. You so badly wanted to know what he was thinking, but the words just wouldn’t come.

His gaze flipped back to you and it was like a dam broke.

“I’m so sorry! Echo was worried and I wanted to make sure you got something to eat and when I got here you were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you up so I left a note and you looked cold so I got the blanket. I didn’t mean to wake you! Please forgive-”

“-you came here because Echo was worried?” Rex said, his voice a little raw since he had just woken up. Or at least had woken up at some point when you came into the room, you still weren’t sure when exactly he came back to consciousness.

Frankly you didn’t want to know.

“I was worried too. I hadn’t seen you since yesterday’s meeting and I know you sometimes forget to eat so I wanted to make sure you did or that you got some rest before tomorrow.” You again word vomited and wanted more than anything for the ground below your feet to open up and swallow you whole.

Rex paused for a moment and you took a shaky breath.

His thumb brushed against your now exposed wrist and you fought back against the hitch in your breath at the contact, seemingly now noticing that he wasn’t wearing his gloves. Your heart continued to pound and you prayed to the Maker that he couldn’t feel it. His calloused hands slid from your wrist to grip your hand.

Tingles shot straight up your arm and you really were holding your breath now, eyes unable to look away as his rough hand completely engulfed yours. He was staring at your now joined hands, seemingly marveling at how much larger his hand was than yours.

Maker, this has to be a dream. I’m dreaming. But I’m not sure I want to wake up. Kriff my hands are so clammy.

You thought, wincing at the thought of Rex being grossed out by your now sweaty hands. But he didn’t seem to be flinching away, which was probably the most unnerving thing about this situation.

He tugged on your hand and you had been so wrapped up in your thoughts that you jerked forward, your free hand reaching for purchase on his shoulder as your legs came into contact with hard plastoid.

Wait. Hard plastoid? That means -

Oh.

You froze again. Your eyes were trained on Rex’s this time only inches away and so much closer than they ever had been.

Kriff, his eyes are so pretty.

“Thank you.” He huffed, startling you again. “For looking out for me.”

“No problem.” You squeaked, voice higher than it ever had been. Your face felt like it was on fire and you weren’t sure if you wanted to stay in this exact position until the day you died or if you wanted to run for the escape pods and eject yourself into space.

Rex lifted his free hand and brushed a stray piece of hair off of your face, but instead of taking it away after, he let his hand cup your cheek.

Maker, this has to be a dream. There’s no way this is real.

Rex let out a low chuckle. “It feels like a dream to me too.”

Your eyes widened. Ah kriff.

He didn’t seem to mind your current situation and frankly you were too shocked to be horrified at how things were playing out. Rex smiled softly at you, brushing a thumb under your eye.

The next thing you knew, he was kissing you.

It was embarrassing how quickly you sighed against him and absolutely melted. But Rex took that all in stride and let go of your hand to wrap his arm around you and tug you closer.

This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream.

You repeated like a mantra in your head, refusing to believe this was happening. But then Rex tilted his head, lips moving more incessantly against yours and all coherent thoughts flew out the window.

The rest of the world faded away until all that was left was you and him.

And you honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

Rex pulled away and you felt yourself chasing after him as he chuckled softly. His forehead pressed against yours and you took a few deep breaths before opening your eyes to find him already looking at you.

“I’m glad I gave you that code.” He breathed and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled past your lips.

“I am too.” You whispered and Rex smiled broadly at you.

“I hope you know I plan on taking full advantage of it from now on.” He said and you felt your cheeks burn as you sputtered. He smirked before leaning in again to capture your lips once more. All argument left you in an instant and you pressed yourself closer, causing him to groan and his hands to fist in the back of your shirt.

Yeah. You could get used to this.

And take advantage of it he did.

You weren’t going to complain. Not one bit.

The men ended up complaining however, specifically Fives and Echo who managed to crack the code a few days later and had been a little surprised to say the least.

Well, they learned their lesson and frankly, you were too happy to care about the teasing and complaints. Rex changed the code again and gave it to you immediately. You’d practically melted on the spot, happier than you had been in a long time.

Who knew a code could lead to something as special as this?

#asks #askBri #rex x reader #captain rex x reader #clone x reader #tcw #star wars the clone wars #sw #tcw imagines #the clone wars #rex x you #captain rex x you

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btssavedmylifeblr · 4 years

Text

Void - Part 7 (M)

title banner by @rude–jude♡

Genre: Sci-fi with a little angst and a LOT of smut

Pairing: BTS x Reader (yup - all seven)

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

Word Count: 10.9k

Part 7 / ?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: explicit sexual content, alcohol masturbation, voyeurism, more non-monogamy

The men at the table stare at you, dumb-founded. Jungkook’s mouth hangs open. Hoseok hides his mouth behind his hand; his eyes are wide with shock. Jimin spins around, trying to gauge the others’ reactions. Namjoon leans back in his chair, face unreadable, his chin resting on his hand as he looks from you to your powerpoint. Jin laughs uncomfortably then clears his throat and silence falls again.

Yoongi speaks first. “You put sources on your powerpoint about how we should all start fucking?”

“It’s important to cite your sources,” you mutter, shuffling your feet.

Taehyung sits up straighter on his cot. “Are you saying we should start fucking you or each other?”

“Well, the bonobos do both. They are fully bisexual. Almost all aggressive contests are settled by sex. Even when two males squabble over a female, they often resolve it by rubbing their genitals together.”

“What?” Hoseok injects. “You want us to start rubbing our genitals together?” His cheeks blush.

“No, no, no.” You shake your head. “I meant you all should have sex with me.” Your own cheeks heat up as you say it. “I can’t control what you do with other people. In an ideal world, it would be both. But it seemed best to start with me.”

Jungkook mouths the words “start with” to himself, still staring at the table.

“But like, how would that work logistically?” Taehyung asks.

“Well, there are seven of you, so that could be like one per day. Take a week off for my period.”

Jimin splutters, whirling to face Yoongi. “Did you put her up to this?”

Yoongi shakes his head, frowning.

“No one put me up to this!” you argue. “This is what I think is best for the mission.”

An explosion of opinions pours out of all the men at once. Hoseok is swearing under his breath. Taehyung is trying to get Jimin’s attention, but Jimin is arguing with Yoongi. Jungkook wants to know how you decide who goes first. Jin says something to Namjoon that you can’t hear.

“So, um…” You struggle to regain command of the room over the chatter. “My period starts tomorrow, so take a few days to think about it.”

“Officer.” Namjoon’s deep voice cuts over everyone else and the conversation at the table ceases. “You and I need to speak privately. Now.”

The commander stands up from the table and gestures toward the door. The rest of the crew looks back and forth between the two of you wearing expressions of shock and confusion.

You avoid their gazes as you follow Namjoon’s direction out into the hallway. He steps out after you, closing the door behind him. A flurry of chatter resumes after the door shuts, but it’s too muffled to hear what the rest of the crew are saying. You and Namjoon stare at each other.

“So…” you say, shifting your weight between your feet.

“Let’s talk in my office,” he says, squeezing past you and moving in the direction of the sleep pods.

You examine him from behind as you follow him to his office, trying to gauge what he’s thinking. Are his shoulders tense? Is he angry with you? Are you about to be scolded?

His office is also his bedroom. And you did just offer to fuck him, no strings attached. But of all your crew, Namjoon is the one that you have the most strictly professional relationship with. His walls are almost as impenetrable as yours. But he is a man, right? And men like sex, right? It would have been more awkward to not include him. This wasn’t about personal feelings. It was about the mission. And you were all in the mission together.

________

Sweat pools at the base of your spine under the hot studio lights. A reporter drums her long red nails on her clipboard as the sound technician adjusts the microphones between interviews.

Press junkets are your least favorite part of the job, made all the worse by your mission director insisting you all dress in full launch gear, despite the launch still being two weeks away.

“This is the last one.” Namjoon turns around from his front and center seat to whisper to the rest of the crew.

Yoongi groans, rubbing his face with his hands. “Why do we have so many of them when they all ask the same questions?”

The eight of you have been trapped in this room all day as a parade of different reporters trail in and ask the same inane questions.

This new reporter opens with a softball. “How’s the food?”

“Good!” Namjoon patiently answers this question for the third time today. “The ICSE has recruited the top food scientists to figure out which foods hold their flavor and nutrition best in long term storage. And our chief botanist here is going to keep us well stocked with fruits and vegetables. Right, officer?” He gestures for you to chime in.

“Yup!” You are grateful to Namjoon for pitching you a question that isn’t about you being the only woman in a crew full of men. You’ve already had to explain how periods in space work twice today (short answer: pretty much the same way they work on Earth). “We have lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, peas, bean, soy, carrots, cabbage, chilis, potatoes, lemons, oranges and strawberries, plus a bunch of fresh herbs. They even found a way for us to grow mushrooms out of our culinary compost.”

The reporter makes a disgusted face at the idea of compost mushrooms and pivots to a new line of questioning. “What will you miss most about home?”

“Why don’t we go around the group?” Namjoon prompts. Even your commander seems to be fading in enthusiasm by this point. “I’m going to miss long walks in the fresh air, and my family, of course.”

Most of the crew answers with some variation of friends and family. Yoongi will miss his brother’s cooking. Taehyung will miss his dog who is going to live with his parents. Jungkook will miss long showers and his mom.

“What’s one personal item you’re taking with you?” she asks.

Namjoon is bringing a Chinese elm bonsai tree that he calls his tiny friend. Hoseok is bringing a stuffed Earth plushie given to him by his niece. Jin is bringing vodka.

The reporter narrows her eyes at the mention of alcohol and leans forward. “So what do you do if you feel a crew member’s judgement has been compromised?”

“We have protocols in place,” Namjoon answers. “Tests of cognitive impairment and such. We’re also coached in what we call “expeditionary behaviors” which are key to maintaining peace and cooperation on board.

Yoongi chimes in. “The key to solving all disputes is our ability to be honest with each other. When there is a problem, we sit down as a group and discuss it.”

“Our readers are saying what a tragedy it is that we are shipping seven of our most eligible bachelors off to space for a decade.” She laughs. “Any broken hearts being left here on Earth?”

“Oh!” Namjoon draws back and looks unsuredly at the rest of the group. This was not a question he was expecting to be asked today. “Umm…” he laughs nervously.

“My mom is devastated!” Jin cracks from the back row and the rest of the crew laughs in relief.

But the reporter doesn’t want to let go of this idea so quickly, so she turns to you. “Well, you must certainly enjoy having such handsome crew members.”

“Uh…” To your complete mortification, you actually blush in response. You clench your fist to try to get a grip. To your right, Hoseok’s hand flinches, as if he can feel the need to hold you back. “I’m going on this mission to find life on other planets.” You grit your teeth. “My only interest in my crew is whether or not they do their jobs.”

The woman shakes her head, laughing. “Doesn’t hurt that they look good doing it.”

_______

Namjoon opens the door to his office and gestures for you to enter. The number of papers on his desk seems to have multiplied, which theoretically shouldn’t be possible.

“I’m going to say three words to you,” Namjoon says as he closes the door behind him. “And then I need you to repeat them back to me: banana, river, finger.”

“Namjoon,” you cross your arms. “I’m not cognitively impaired right now.”

He mirrors your closed stance. “Please repeat the words.”

You sigh. “Banana, river, finger.”

He pulls a piece of paper from his desk and wipes it clean, before handing it to you, along with a pen. “I need you to draw a clock face.”

“Seriously?”

“Set it to quarter past eight.”

“This isn’t necessary, commander,” you grumble as you take the pen and paper, drawing a rudimentary clock face and setting the hands to 8:15. “See?” You hand the paper back to him and he inspects it.

He nods, rubbing his chin. “Repeat the three words again.”

“Banana, river, finger.” You put your hands on your hips. “You think my judgement is compromised?”

Namjoon sighs. “Everything seems to be in order. You must admit, your behavior recently has been uncharacteristic to say the least. Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Well, no, everything is not okay, that’s why I’m doing this.”

He leans against his desk, looking you up and down. “I fail to see how fraternizing with the entire crew will improve things.”

The back of your neck heats up in embarrassment, but you press on. You need the commander to be onboard with your plan.

“You admit we have a morale problem, right?”

He nods. “Hard to suggest otherwise. What with all the recent events.”

“Okay, so I was going through the principles of expeditionary behavior last night as I figured out what to do. Principle One: Communication - talk so you are clearly understood, talk about intentions before taking action, share information freely.”

“I know the principles.” Namjoon interrupts.

“But don’t you see? That’s why I had to call the meeting. Why I had to get everything out in the open, share information freely.”

“That explains why you needed to inform the crew of your relationship with Jimin. It doesn’t explain why you think it would be good to involve everyone.”

“Principle Two: Self-care - manage psychological and physiological health, balance work, rest, and personal time, be proactive to stay healthy and mitigate stress.”

Namjoon arches an eyebrow. “A lack of sex doesn’t damage your health.”

“With all due respect commander, I think it does.”

“There are outlets to relieve sexual urges other than exploiting our only female crew member.”

“Well, they were all trading porn with each other. That’s how this whole thing started.” Namjoon purses his lips in thought. That seems to be new information to your commander. You continue your argument. “Principle Three: Team-care - monitor team for signs of stress and fatigue - which we have a multitude of, cooperate rather than compete, encourage participation in team activities.”

“Are you considering this a team activity?”

“Well, yes. Like the bonobos do.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “Let me speak so I am clearly understood. I can’t prevent you or the rest of the crew from doing what you want to do with your personal time. But I can’t participate in it either. I’m the commanding officer on this ship. It’s inappropriate. We can’t have an equitable relationship.”

“That’s why it’s not a relationship though, it’s just sex. And if everyone involved is consenting...”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Let’s be honest about intent for a minute. Is that really what you want? You want all seven of us?”

“Umm…” Your stomach churns as you are unable to admit that, yes, that is what you want. “I think it’s best for the mission.”

“Part of principle three is to volunteer for unpleasant tasks if they benefit the team. Are you sure that’s not what you’re doing right now, officer?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Though embarrassing to admit, boning your attractive colleagues is not an unpleasant task in the slightest.

“You should also consider the fact that whatever forms do get signed will have to be sent back to mission control. And may get out to the press.”

“I thought HR decisions were confidential.”

“Juicy stories have a tendency to find their way out. Especially when they distract from failed missions that added years on to our trip.”

“I understand, commander. Information must be shared freely. I still think this plan is necessary if we’re going to complete this mission successfully.”

“Okay.” Namjoon sighs, dropping his hands to his sides. “It would seem there is no talking you out of it.”

“No, sir. I intend to implement with full commitment.”

The two of you stare at each other for a minute. An immovable object and an unstoppable force.

“So… should I go?”

“Yes, you’re dismissed.”

________

After the press junket is mercifully over, Hoseok catches you in the hallway.

“Hey, you coming to Tae and Jimin’s quarantine party tonight?” Tonight is the last night you all are allowed to see other people before you enter your two-week quarantine prior to launch. “Seems like you could use a drink.”

“I don’t know,” you sigh, leaning against the wall.

“What’s on your mind?” He leans next to you.

“That last reporter, she got in my head.” You rub your forehead.

Hoseok rubs the back of his neck. His jawline tenses as he mulls over what to say.

Hoseok is so handsome. And smart. And newly single. He broke up with his girlfriend a couple of weeks ago before signing the final mission papers. And now he was going to be the one of only seven people in your whole world.

In another life, you would want to date him. You’d be dying to go to a party with him and plot how to get him alone for part of the evening. In another life, you would have fallen in love with him. But in this life, he’d been dating someone else for the whole time you’ve known him. And you have a mission.

What’s most grating is that the gossip columnist isn’t wrong. You’d be hard pressed to find a better set of men anywhere on Earth than the seven you were leaving with. They were all attractive, smart, kind, disciplined, athletic young men. It would be much easier to be entirely professional if you had a crew of balding middle-aged men.

“Do you think it's a mistake? Me going on this mission?” you finally ask.

“What?” Hoseok gasps. “No! Why would you think that?”

“The mission director said it was supposed to be only men. That mixed gender crews are too complicated.”

“Have we ever done anything to make you feel like we don’t view you as a professional?”

“No, no, of course not.” Other than being ridiculously good-looking.

Hoseok’s fingers twiddle nervously. “And we won’t. We’re a team. You’re our colleague. This mission is so much bigger than any one of us. And you’re the best candidate for this position.”

“I’m the only candidate.”

Hoseok smiles. “Well, that’s exactly my point. We’d be lost without our biologist. Besides, you were better than all the male candidates even before they dropped out.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh yes, I do. Are you forgetting how badly you kicked my ass all over organic chemistry? And I was the chem major! It was such a disgrace.” You both laugh.

You smile at the memory: early morning study sessions, Hoseok bringing you coffee in exchange for your homework help.

“Come on,” he insists. “I know you. You can’t not go. You’re going to be the first woman on Europa. It’s been your destiny since college. Don’t you want to see it with us?”

Yes, you wanted to see it so badly. You picture the two of you looking out over the icy surface together.

“Come tonight.” Hoseok insists. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. We won’t mess this up for you.”

“Thank you, Hoseok.”

_______

You leave Namjoon’s bedroom and climb into your own sleep pod, the question of what mission control or the press know about what’s happening on this ship weighing on your mind.

Unfortunately, googling it for yourself won’t work. It takes between 10 and 20 minutes for a single signal to get from your ship to Earth, depending on exactly where you both are in your orbits. Then it takes another 10-20 minutes to return. Usually if you wanted to research something, you’d submit a formal request to your research assistants back on Earth, who would gather a collection of relevant documents for you and send you a bundle of them all at once. But asking your research assistants to assemble a dossier on your rumored sex life was out of the question. You need someone you can trust.

You pull out your laptop and compose the following email.

Hi Dianna,

How are you doing? I’m sorry I’ve been slow to respond to your messages lately, things have been a bit messy out here. I was wondering if I could ask you a favor. Are there rumors about my personal life going around the ICSE? Or in the press? I was wondering if you’d be willing to run a quick google search and let me know what you find.

Thank you! I hope you and Melissa are doing well.

Dianna should have been on this mission with you. You wish you could talk to her in person. You’ll have to send her a video message when you have more time. But you are interrupted in your thoughts by a knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

“Jimin.”

You hit send on the email and open the door.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

You nod and stand to one side to allow him into your pod.

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “So I’m confused.” He runs a hand through his hair as he steps into the pod. “Last night you were mad at me for suggesting you date Taehyung. You said you wouldn’t be passed around between crew members. But now you want to have sex with the entire crew?”

“I’m not being passed around. This is my plan. I’m in control.”

He shakes his head. “The end results seem to be the same though. I don’t understand.”

“This way we don’t have to pretend this is something it’s not. It can just be sex, just release. We don’t have to pretend it means anything more than that.”

“But it means something to me.” Jimin frowns. “I have feelings for you.”

You sigh. “They’re not real though. It’s hormones and boredom. It’s just because I’m the only woman here.”

“No it’s not!”

“Yes it is! You didn’t feel this way about me on Earth, right?”

Jimin stammers for a minute. “People can change. Relationships can change.”

“Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t have feelings for me on Earth either and now that they’ve seen me naked they’re suddenly 'in love' with me. That’s not real. That’s just biology. We’re just apes in space with too much time on our hands.”

“Jungkook’s in love with you too?”

“I don’t know. He thinks he is.”

Jimin frowns, but seems less sure of himself. “Is this because I suggested sharing? Cause that was a dumb idea and I take it back.”

“No! You were right. It’s what’s best for the mission.”

“So what? It’s like this or nothing? I have to share you to have any of you?”

You don’t answer him. Currently, no one else has actually signed, so Jimin might get you all to himself anyways.

“Am I… am I not enough?” Jimin asks. “I can be more. I can do better. I can do whatever Yoongi does that you like so much.”

“This isn’t about Yoongi. It’s about the mission.”

“You said you liked me. You said you wanted to be with me. Was that just about the mission?”

“It’s not about what I want.”

“Yeah, yeah… it's about the mission.”

He turns to go, but you catch his hand in yours. His thumb rubs across the back of your hand. All the men are just as touch-starved as you are. It’s probably unfair that you are playing to that now.

You see an idea flash across his face right before he scoops you up into his arms, kissing you passionately. “I’m going to show you,” he whispers between kisses. “I’m going to show it's real. I’m going to be what you need. My feelings are real.”

Then he places you back down and leaves. You lean against the door breathless.

________

Mistake number one: You should not have challenged Jin to beer pong.

Mistake number two: You should not have said goodbye to your parents and dog right before going to a party full of strangers and booze.

Mistake number three: You should not have gone to find Hoseok when you are this drunk and he smells that good.

You collapse onto the couch beside Hoseok, too tired to stand up anymore. Hoseok smiles to see you, face flushed red.

“Hoseok,” you whisper, even though he’s already looking at you. “Hoseok, I have something important to tell you.”

He leans in closer. “Yeah?”

“Europa’s oceans are ninety-six kilometers deep.”

He laughs. “Of course, I know that! I wrote my graduate thesis on Europa’s oceans!”

“Yeah, but like…” You wave your hand. “That’s like soooo deep. Like not intuitive, you know? Like that’s ten times deeper than any ocean on Earth. I can’t even conceive of how deep our oceans are, let alone Europa’s.”

You scoot closer to him on the couch. “That’s like…” You pull out your phone to do some basic math. “That’s like 120 Burj Khalifas!!”

Hoseok nods. “Yes… It is super deep.”

“Stacked on top of each other!” You slap your knee in emphasis.

“Yes, I know!” He laughs again.

You sigh. “Can I tell you a secret?” You lean in closer and put a hand on his thigh. He leans in too. “There just has to be life down there. I know there has to be.”

“I hope so.” He rests his hand on yours.

“We’re going to find it together, you and I.” You grab his hand and squeeze it.

Hoseok looks down at your joined hands and you worry that maybe you’ve gone too far. Maybe tomorrow this will be an awkward and embarrassing moment. But right now it feels nice. His hand is warm. You wonder if it would be too much to lean your head on his shoulder.

But then Hoseok’s phone buzzes in his lap. His ex-girlfriend’s name flashes across the screen and you drop his hand.

“Sorry,” he mutters, getting up off the couch. “I should take this.” He leaves and the couch next you is colder.

“Hey!” Jin stumbles over to your seating area. “Have any of you guys seen Namjoon?”

“I think he went to meet that girl he won’t tell us about,” Yoongi answers from a chair a few feet away. When did Yoongi get here?

“So everyone is getting laid tonight, huh?” Jin laughs.

“Not everyone,” Yoongi mutters, nursing his beer.

“Don’t be such a grump, Yoongi. It’s basically our last night on Earth! Take advantage!” Jin laughs before wandering back into the crowd.

“I’m not getting laid tonight either!” You yell across the room at Yoongi. More direct than you would be when sober.

He cracks the first smile you’ve seen from him in days, raising his beer into the air in a little clinking motion. You do the same with your plastic cup full of what Jimin had described as “Tae’s jungle juice”. It was red and smelled like tequila.

“Why aren’t you getting laid?” you ask, taking a swig of the juice for courage.

“Got dumped, not really over it yet,” he answers matter-of-factly. “What about you?”

You shrug. “The only men here are about to be my only companions for the next twelve years. Seems like a bad plan to fuck them.”

Yoongi laughs. “Suppose so.”

“Well, don’t you worry. If that reporter is right, we’ll all be having space orgies in a month anyways.”

Yoongi chokes on his beer. “Shit.” Beer dribbles down his chin as he laughs. “I think we need to find you some ice water and a cab.”

“Probably a good plan,” you mutter as you lie down on the couch and close your eyes.

________

When you wake up in the morning, there are still no signed HR forms in your messages. Had you been a fool to think any of them were interested? How much time does it take to decide such a thing? Perhaps by putting the idea out there explicitly, it had lost all of its taboo appeal.

There are two other things waiting for you to notice though: your period and a calendar reminder that today is chili pepper pollinating day. After dealing with the first of those problems in the bathroom, you head for the lab to find Hoseok.

You find the science officer in the lab as always, sitting with his knee tucked up against his chest.

“Hey, um…” You shuffle your feet. Want to fuck me? No wait…

He blinks at you, bleary-eyed.

“Oh, you don’t look good. Were you here all night?” you ask.

“Um, was I? Yeah. I suppose. Lost track of time.” He rubs his eyes, before looking you up and down, then casting his gaze back to the floor.

All you want to do is ask about the forms. Or the meeting. Or what he thinks of you now. But you don’t.

“I need to pollinate the chili peppers today.” Usually Hoseok is the person who assists with that. “But I can get one of the other guys to do it if you need the sleep.”

“No!” Hoseok lurches forward, standing up a bit too rapidly and needing to put his hand back on the bench to steady himself. “I mean, I’m fine.”

You should disagree with him. He is exhausted. But you’d like more time to talk to him.

Pollinating the chili peppers is both time-sensitive and time-consuming, hence why it took two of you to get the job done. There were no insects on your ship to do the job for you and if the plants didn’t get pollinated, they wouldn’t bear any fruit. Chili peppers were your favorite crop. Not only a vital source of Vitamin C, but all your food benefitted from having a bit of spice added to it.

You and Hoseok head for the greenhouse together. The initial set-up gives you something to talk about in the beginning. Hoseok gathers the pollen from one flower onto a paintbrush, then hands it over to you to paint onto the stigmas of each little flower on the next plant.

Slowly the conversation dries up as you fall into a silent rhythm. Other than enjoying the chili peppers, this was also one of your favorite tasks on the ship because of the high likelihood that the two of you would brush hands periodically. It always gave you butterflies. But today he seems extra intent on keeping his distance from you. Was he disgusted by you now? His hands are trembling.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His hand twitches so hard that a little rain of yellow pollen cascades onto the floor. He curses in frustration before turning to face you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

"I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“This, um, plan of yours…” he gestures to the vague tension in the air. “It doesn’t feel like you.”

“I’m trying to save the mission. That has always been my top priority.”

“Yeah, I’m still not clear on how this benefits the mission.”

“I outlined it all in my presentation. Plus Yoongi said…” you start to say, but are cut off by Hoseok's derisive snort.

“Look, if you’re in love with Yoongi, go date him, okay? Don’t feel obligated to include the rest of us out of pity.”

You frown. “I’m not… I’m not in love with him. It’s just sex. Just biology.”

“This isn’t you!” Hoseok argues back. “You hated the idea of anyone ever treating you that way. And now you want all of us to… to… use you like that?” He splutters out the end of the sentence.

“No one is using me! This is my plan!”

He sighs. “Well, I can’t be a part of it. Excuse me.” He leaves you alone in the greenhouse.

Your lower lip trembles and you bite it to stop it. He’s disgusted by you. Yoongi was wrong; Hoseok doesn’t want you. It takes you the rest of the day to finish the pollinating on your own.

_____

There are no forms waiting for you when you wake up the next morning either. Perhaps this was a mistake after all. If the men aren’t looking for release in the same way you are, then there’s no point to any of this. Even Jimin has been keeping his distance, so all you’ve done is mess up the one relationship you did have and offend your commander and colleagues.

Your tablet buzzes with a notification. It’s a reply from Dianna.

It’s great to hear from you! I hope things aren’t too crazy up there. I haven’t heard any rumors at work, but I’ve not been directly involved with your mission. We’ve started the plans for Titan and it’s taking most of my focus. I can ask around though if you want me to. I was surprised to find this article when I googled. Is this accurate? I assumed you would have said something.

Hope you are well! Melissa and I are going to send you a video of our new puppy.

Dianna

There is a pdf of a magazine article attached to the email entitled “Love Amongst the Stars”. At the top is one of the official launch photos of the whole crew that has been zoomed and cropped so that it’s only you and Jimin sitting next to each other. The tagline reads “How two astronauts had to leave Earth to find each other”. It makes you cringe so hard you have to put the tablet down for a minute before you can read on.

It’s some sort of fluff piece about a secret affair between you and the mission specialist. You scan the article, trying to figure out what they know. “A source close to the couple spoke with us...” Who is their source? You haven’t told anyone on Earth about what's going on with Jimin.

“Coworkers said they always sensed a special connection between the two…” This is nonsense. Jimin is one of the crew members you knew the least about prior to launch.

“Other crew members are very supportive…” Uh, sure.

“Maybe we’ll even get our first space wedding…” You groan out loud, closing the pdf.

Maybe that seals it then. You’ll just be space-married to Jimin for the next 12 years and that will be that. The idea makes you feel a bit claustrophobic in your tiny sleep pod, so you throw on your exercise clothes and head for the gym to try to clear your head.

_____

What you call “the gym” is actually just a bunch of resistance bands and cardio equipment stashed into the walls of one corner of the hangar. When the gravity was off, you had a variety of different choices for which equipment to use. There was a treadmill in the ceiling and an elliptical in the wall so multiple people could use the equipment in your off hours. But with the gravity on, the stationary bike on the floor is your only option.

As you begin your warm-up on the bike, you mull over your next move. Why hadn’t any of the other men come and talked to you yet? Jungkook had confessed to you, why wasn’t he signing up now? And Yoongi? Yoongi said he wanted a form only a few days ago. Why did it feel so different now?

Were you stupid? Had you embarrassed yourself in front of your entire crew for no reason? Maybe Namjoon and Hoseok were right and this was a bad plan. You pedal faster, trying to burn out some of the tension in your lungs.

The radio buzzes and Taehyung’s deep voice sounds in your in-ear. “Looking for a location for our biologist.”

“I’m in the gym,” you radio back, pausing your bike ride to catch your breath.

Moments later, Taehyung pokes his head in the door of the hangar. It’s good to see him up and about, even if his arm is still in a sling.

“Hey.” He steps into the room, adjusting his hair with his one good hand. “I need to talk to you about this, um, ape sex thing.”

Oh my gosh, is it finally happening? Maybe Jimin was right. Maybe Taehyung is more interested in you than you had realized. He fishes into his pocket and pulls out his tablet. You wish you weren’t so sweaty and gross for this conversation. Taehyung is such an intimidatingly attractive man.

Taehyung opens up the tablet and flips to the form as he walks closer to you. It’s happening. He’s going to sign the form. Shit. Then what will you do? It’s one thing to say you want to have sex with your whole crew, but what if he’s hoping to go right now? You need a shower.

Taehyung has nice hands. Long strong fingers delicately navigate the touch screen. It seems totally improbable that a man this attractive would be into you, even if you were the only woman in the universe. It adds to your suspicions that hormones are driving everyone crazy. Perhaps if you slept with him once, he’d lose all interest.

He finds the form and then turns his gaze up to you, staring you down with those eyes. It’s a good thing Taehyung rarely turns his full gaze on you, because it is almost too much to bear. Shit, is he going to sign it? Is he waiting for you to give him some sort of signal?

“You can’t do this to Jimin,” he says.

“What?” Not what you were expecting. “Do what to Jimin?”

“This.” He gestures over the HR form. “Signing these forms with everyone. Having sex with everyone. You’re going to destroy Jimin.”

“Jimin’s the one who suggested this whole thing in the first place.” It’s a lie. You know it's a lie. Or at least a gross exaggeration. But Jimin was the one who first brought up the idea of sharing. All for the benefit of the man in front of you now.

“No way.” Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “No way was it Jimin’s idea that you sleep with the whole crew.”

“Well…” You can’t bear his gaze anymore and look down at the floor. “He wanted me to sleep with you.”

“What?” He puts down the tablet. “Why would he want that?”

“He, um…” You rub your arm. “He thinks you’re in love with me.”

“What?” There is only surprise on Taehyung’s face. It’s actually a relief to see that Taehyung is as shocked by that idea as you were. “Why does he think that?”

“I don’t know…” You feel kind of dumb now. Of course, Taehyung doesn’t feel that way about you. Look at him. “Cause you told him you were jealous. Cause you can’t stand to be in the same room as us.”

Taehyung bites his lip. “Oh, um, shit, sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” you ask. If Taehyung wasn’t jealous of Jimin, then...“Who are you jealous of?”

“Nevermind…” Taehyung stumbles backward, putting his tablet back in his pocket. “Forget I said anything.”

“No wait,” you get up off the bike to chase after him, catching by the sleeve. As he turns around, you make a show of turning off your microphone. He does the same. “Are you jealous of me?” you ask. “Do you like Jimin?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen and he bites his lip. He glances toward the camera in the corner of the room, then stands up and begins unzipping his jumpsuit.

“Um…” You are distracted by the golden arms that peak from either side of the tank top as the zipper reaches his groin. “What are you doing?”

“Need something to block the camera.”

“We have towels,” you mutter. But now he’s attempting to peel the tank top up over his head.

“Yeah, but this way anyone watching will think we’re having sex.” He answers. “Shit, can you give me a hand?” In his attempts to remove his shirt, he seems to have forgotten he is wearing the arm sling and is now stuck with his shirt over his head. His injured shoulder is black and blue from his accident with the ROV.

You gingerly try to disentangle him without getting too close to his warm, bare skin. You succeed in freeing him from his shirt and he tosses it up and over the camera.

“You want them to think we’re having sex?” you ask.

“Don’t you? It plays right into your whole ‘save the mission with bonobo sex’ plan.” He zips his jumpsuit back up as he turns around.

“I suppose.” Though the plan was also supposed to be that there would be no more secrets between the crew. “What plan of yours does it play into?”

“The one where Jimin doesn’t realize I’m in love with him.”

Of course, Taehyung is in love with Jimin. That makes so much more sense. They’ve been so close for so long. And Taehyung has always paid very close attention to anything going on with Jimin. “You’ve never tried to tell him?”

Taehyung laughs wryly and shakes his head. “How would that conversation go? Hey man, I know we’ve known each other for years and I’ve already seen you naked and that you just think of me as a friend, but I’m in love with you. I know that’s awkward but now you have to spend the next twelve years with me, knowing that I’m attracted to you when you don’t feel the same way.” Taehyung sighs. “Doesn’t sound like a good plan to me. If he doesn’t feel the same way, I’ve ruined the friendship for nothing and then I don’t even have that.”

“Yeah… I get that.” There’s something touching about realizing that Taehyung has been fighting the same battle as you for the last two years.

“I couldn’t tell anyone before launch because what if they wouldn’t let me go then? You know?”

“Yeah, the director wasn’t big on sending anyone who might ‘complicate’ the mission.” The two of you share a sad knowing smile.

“Yeah… And I thought it would be fine, you know? I like women too. I’d just date women until launch and no one would know. I wasn’t planning on falling in love with my roommate.”

“I don’t think any of us knew what this would be like.”

“I knew it was going to be a problem. I should have pulled out…” he continues.

Your mind flashes back to your own moment of doubt when Hoseok talked you into still coming on the mission.

Taehyung sighs and leans against the ice drill. “But I couldn’t just let him go off into space without me. Even if he’d never feel the same way, at least he’d still be in my life.”

The emotion in Taehyung’s words makes your eyes begin to mist. “You really love him.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung sighs again. “But he’s in love with you.”

“Well, he thinks he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“He only feels that way about me cause he thinks I’m the only option.” Maybe he would feel differently if he knew about Taehyung’s feelings.

Taehyung frowns and shakes his head. “You don’t give him enough credit.”

“Oh come on, you know him. How many women did he date while we were in training?”

“A few…”

“And how many of them was he in love with before he found the next one?”

Taehyung purses his lips. He can’t argue with that. “So why are you with him then, if you don’t think it’s real?”

You shrug, rubbing your arm. “I like him. Lord knows he’s attractive. And he wants me. It’s nice to feel wanted, I guess.”

“You could have that with any man on this ship though...”

You scoff. “They’re all suffering the same delusion. It’s only-available-vagina syndrome. I just want us all to fuck and get it out in the open. Maybe if we could get it out of our system, they would see I’m nothing special. And then we can get back to the mission.”

Taehyung eyes you up and down. “You don’t give yourself enough credit either.”

You shrug. “You wait and see. Jimin will get bored of me. They all will.”

Taehyung pulls his tablet back out of his pocket. “Do you really think that if everyone just like, banged it out, that it would help morale?”

“Well, it certainly couldn’t get any worse.”

“And Jimin thinks I’m in love with you?” He reopens the HR form and stares at it.

You nod.

“What if I signed this? And we let him think that for a little longer? Just until I figure out how to tell him the truth?

“Like we’d pretend the two of us are involved?” Maybe that would help you get the other men on board with your plan.

Taehyung nods. “Would that be okay?”

“Yeah, that would work.”

Taehyung smiles and signs the bottom of the form, then sends it to you. “Thank you,” he says before he leaves you to resume your workout.

______

Other than Taehyung, no one else approaches you over the next few days. If anything, the crew seems to be treating you more professionally than they did before you announced your plan to fuck them all. You have signed forms from Jimin and Taehyung and have been rejected by Namjoon and Hoseok, but you’ve heard nothing either way from the other three. What are they waiting for?

By the time you reach the end of the Monday morning weekly meeting, you’ve had enough waiting.

Namjoon finishes his debrief of the week’s goals and claps his hands. “Anyone have anything else mission related we need to discuss?”

“My period is over,” you announce to your assembled crew.

A muscle pulses in Namjoon’s jaw. “Officer, I wouldn’t consider that mission-related.”

You cross your arms and lean back in your chair. “Just freely sharing information.”

“Already?” Jungkook asks. “I thought you said it would take a week.”

“No, finished this morning. It varies a bit from cycle to cycle.” you answer. Hoseok’s leg begins aggressively bouncing up and down next to you, but you press on. “I need to make a schedule. So I need to know who’s in and who’s out.”

“Ooh, what if you shared out your tracker info so we’re all on the same page.” Taehyung enthuses.

Yoongi scoffs. “Why don’t we just add it to our mission task list then?”

“I’m not clear on why menstruating means we can’t have sex,” Jimin interjects.

“Enough!” Namjoon regains everyone’s attention. “We need clear boundaries between what is personal and what is professional. Right now, you all have jobs to do. Dismissed.”

________

By the time you finish your chores for the day, you have convinced yourself that getting the rest of the team on board is essential to your successful completion of the mission. So you go in search of Yoongi.

You find him in his workshop. Pieces of an air filter are spread out on the workbench and he’s in the middle of cleaning it. You had forgotten that is the actual purpose of the workbench. So much for climbing on top of it and seducing him that way.

He looks up when you enter and you decide to cut to the chase. “I haven’t gotten your HR form yet.”

“Yeah…” He goes back to inspecting the clogged tube in front of him.

“You said you wanted to sign one with me.”

“I did say that, yes.”

“And now you don’t?” You thought if anyone was going to be supportive of the plan, it would be Yoongi.

He sets down the part he had been inspecting. “Have you really thought this through?”

“Yes!” You put your hands on your hips. “I made a whole powerpoint! With sources!!”

“I think it's a bad plan.” He picks up another long tube full of dust and threads a brush through it.

“I thought you’d be onboard with this plan. You said if I was fucking everyone, there’s no need for jealousy.”

“Yeah, well, I was wrong.” He sets the tube down and turns around to look at you directly. “ Is that really what you want?”

Why is he questioning you now? He was the one who put this whole idea in your head. He was the one who knew all your fantasies. “But you said…"

“I know what I said.” He begins pacing back and forth in front of the workbench. “But there’s a difference between a fantasy and a reality. You really want to have sex with a different man every day for 12 years on some kind of rotating daily schedule? Like how we water the crops?”

“You’re mad there’s a schedule?” You try to come closer to him, but he backs away from you, turning back to the air filter.

“Sexual desire doesn’t run on a clock, you know,” he says as he starts to pack up the equipment. “What if you’re not feeling it that day? What if they’re not?”

“I’m just trying to be fair to everyone.”

“But nobody actually gets what they want!” He throws his hands up in exasperation.

“And what do you want, Yoongi?”

He pauses, then deflates, dropping his hands to his sides. “Nevermind, forget about it.” He grabs a wet wipe off the shelf and begins cleaning the dust of his hands, not looking at you.

“No!” He’s the one who has been egging you on this whole time. “You were the one who was all ‘you have to fuck Jimin to save the mission’. You said you didn’t care if I fucked Jimin too. What do you want from me, Min Yoongi?”

“I’m going to go get some dinner.” He mutters, throwing the dirty wipe in the trash and turning to leave.

Oh no. He’s not going to escape you that easily. You need some straight answers. “You started all this, Yoongi! You said every man on this ship wanted to fuck me and none of them do! What was that?” You follow him down the hall toward the kitchen.

He stops and turns around in the middle of the hall. “This isn’t all on me! You made choices too!”

“Because of what I thought you wanted!” you yell back. “What is your deal? First you want me to fuck you, then you dont. Then you want me to fuck everyone and then you don’t. What do you want from me?” Your voice is echoing down the hallway but you are way past caring about it.

Yoongi opens and closes his mouth, then spins back around and heads for the kitchen, with you trailing behind him.

Jungkook is sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of ramen. He looks up, startled as the two of you barge in.

“And what about you?” You fire the question at your youngest crew member. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

The poor boy nearly chokes on his noodles. “I, um…” He swallows, wide eyes glancing between you and Yoongi.

You lean against the table next to Jungkook as Yoongi steps around the two of you to head for the pantry, but you see his fist clench as he walks by. You lean closer to Jungkook. “Didn’t you enjoy my video? Don’t you want to see the real thing?”

“Uh...” Jungkook glances at Yoongi again. “Maybe the two of you should talk this out…”

Yoongi’s hands tremble, but he doesn’t turn around, intent on starting the rice cooker. You turn your focus to Jungkook instead. “This isn’t about him. Whatever the flight engineer wants to do is up to him. He knows where I stand. This is about you and I.” You are going to get a man on this ship to fuck you. Today.

“It’s not like I’m not interested…” Jungkook’s knee bounces up and down rapidly as he watches you. “But I told you I was in love with you and you literally had a panic attack.”

Oh right. That was back when you thought you still had a shot of stopping all this. Before half your crew had seen you naked. Before all of them had heard you having sex. Before you’d announced that you wanted all of them to fuck you. But you can still control this, if you can get them onboard with your plan.

Your tablet buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out to give yourself a moment to think. There’s a message from Jin.

Hey, come find me when you get this and we can talk. I’ll be in the kitchen.

You brace yourself for yet another rejection note. But you click on the attachment to instead find your HR form, Kim Seokjin’s signature scrawled right next to yours.

Holy shit. He signed it. Under no false pretenses. What do you do now?

“What is it?” Jungkook asks.

But then Jin appears in the doorway. He startles when he sees you. “Oh! I thought you’d still be on shift.”

You shake your head. “You signed the form.”

“What? He did?” Jungkook asks.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Jin answers, laughing nervously. “That’s what you wanted right?”

“Yes, that’s what I wanted.” You stand up and move closer to your pilot. Jungkook crosses his arms. Yoongi finally turns around to observe the three of you.

Jin. Jin with his broad-shoulders and plump lips. Your friend. Your very handsome friend. He’s going to help you save the mission.

“You’re the first one I’ve gotten, so you can go first.”

“Wait, what?” Jin stammers. “But you and the commander?”

You shake your head. “He didn’t sign.”

“You and Taehyung though? I saw him take off his shirt and then cover the camera.”

“Oh right… sorry… I guess you’re the second one. But Tae’s still on shift.”

“Don’t forget about Jimin.” Yoongi helpfully chimes in.

Jin takes a step backward. “But I thought for sure these two…” He gestures at the other two men in the kitchen.

“Nope,” you move toward him. “Not yet.” You suddenly see a way to get them all on board at once.

“Oh, well, um...” His ears are bright red. “Maybe we can talk more about this after dinner?”

“That’s one option…” You lick your lips and find the top of your zipper with your hand, blushing as the next part of your plan unfolds in your mind. “Or you could fuck me now.”

“What?”

“Holy shit.” Jungkook mutters beside you.

Jin dives around you, moving toward the other side of the kitchen. “There are people eating here!”

“Nothing they haven’t seen before.” You begin unzipping your jumpsuit in what you hope is a seductive manner, rolling your hips as you follow him across the kitchen. You have both Jungkook and Yoongi’s rapt attention.

You take a cue from Taehyung and peel off your tank top, throwing it over the camera behind you, leaving you in a bra and the bottom half of your jumpsuit. “Though if these two are going to stay and watch, they better sign the forms as well.”

“Stay and watch?” Jin swallows, hands clenched at his sides.

You grab the waist of your jumpsuit, teasing it down just slightly as you make direct eye contact with Jungkook and then Yoongi. “What do you think boys? In or out?”

Jungkook lunges for his tablet. A satisfying ping on your own tablet confirms that this plan is working. Yoongi just crosses his arms and leans back against the counter.

You drop the jumpsuit, leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear. You prop yourself up on the kitchen table next to Jungkook’s now cold bowl of ramen.

“What are you doing?” Jin asks, whole face beginning to turn red.

“Look…” You shimmy out of your bra straps so that your bra is only held in place by your hand. “I’m going to need you to fuck me right here on this table, Kim Seokjin. For the good of the mission.”

“Why does putting your bare ass on the surface where we eat help the mission?!”

“No more secrets. No more jealousy. Everything will be out in the open. Like the bonobos do.”

Your fingers tease at the clasp of your bra. All three men stare at you. You lock eyes with Yoongi, daring him to look away. Implement with full commitment. You drop your bra to the floor.

“Stop, stop!” Jin moves toward you as you slide your fingers into the band of your underwear. “Just hang on for one second.” He picks up your jumpsuit from the floor and comes closer, draping it around your shoulders in an attempt to cover you. “Look at me.” He grasps your chin and turns your gaze to meet his. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

You lick your lips. “Yes.”

He kisses you, hard. It’s aggressive, urgent even. His hands are on your shoulders, then sliding down your back, pulling you toward him. Your eyes close as you momentarily lose yourself in it. Despite you begging him for it, it still surprises you how insistent he is. His hands keep sliding down your back, until they reach your buttocks, running over the thin cotton of your underwear and scooping you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his shoulders for balance, and then he is lifting off the table.

He breaks out of the kiss to pick you up even higher and then proceeds to throw you over his shoulder.

“Jin! What are you doing?” You kick your feet into the air.

“I am a man, not an ape,” he says, picking up your jumpsuit and bra and tossing them over his other shoulder. “And if I’m going to fuck you, it’s going to be in the privacy of my own sleep pod, where the only man enjoying it is me.”

He hauls you ass first out into the hallway, with Jungkook and Yoongi both watching wide-eyed as you are carried away.

“I can walk,” you argue as Jin turns for the sleep pods.

“Nope,” replies Jin, readjusting you on his shoulder before carrying you down the hall.

As you reach the junction to the bridge, your ass runs into something warm and firm.

“What the-” says Namjoon. Your whole body flushes hot as you realize you’ve run butt-first into your commanding officer.

“Shit, sorry commander.” Jin laughs. “Excuse us,” Jin says and continues down the hallway, not setting you down or stopping.

Namjoon has pressed himself up against the wall with his hands in the air, a look of shock on his face. He looks like he is about to say something, but then Jin reaches his sleep pod and sets you down inside and you can’t see the commander anymore.

“Well, that was the best thing that has happened in a long time.” Jin chuckles as he closes the door. “The looks on Namjoon’s and Jungkook’s faces will power me for a year. You okay?” he asks, handing your bra and jumpsuit. “For the record, I’m not expecting anything else to happen here.”

“You don’t want to do anything else?” You hold up your jumpsuit to cover yourself, more disappointed than you would like to admit.

Jin eyes you up and down. “I mean… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested, but that wasn’t my intention in bringing you here.”

“You hauled me half-naked to your bedroom and your intention wasn’t to have sex?”

“I know, I am such a gentleman, aren’t I?” He laughs, then shrugs. “Seemed like maybe you needed an out. Things were getting kind of crazy back there.”

“But you signed the form? Doesn’t that imply a sexual relationship?”

“I guess I’m not really a ‘sex in front of two other men before we’ve even been on a date’ kind of guy.”

“How about a ‘sex in the sleep pods’ kind of guy?”

“Are you even actually interested in me?” Jin asks, getting more serious. “Because none of what happened in the kitchen felt like it was about me. I don’t want to be some pawn in your plot to make Yoongi jealous.”

“It’s not about Yoongi!” You groan. “Why does everyone think this is about Yoongi?”

“Have you seen the two of you interact recently? There are some seriously repressed feelings going on there.”

You bang your head into the door of the sleep pod in frustration, before looking up at him. “You’re a very attractive man. Maybe I have feelings for you?”

He sighs. “Yeah, but you don’t. You can’t swap us out for each other.”

Shit. The way you’ve been treating the men is exactly how you feared they would treat you. While you fear being wanted because you’re the only woman, you’ve made all the men on the ship feel as though you think them interchangeable simply because they’re men.

“It never occurred to me that any of you would have real feelings for me.”

“Well, you are very dumb.”

“Hey…” You hit him gently on the chest. He catches your hand in his.

“Amazing they would trust such a crucial mission to someone who is so very stupid,” he teases, still holding your hand.

“I’m not this stupid about mission related stuff, just all this relationship crap.” You laugh softly.

“So tragic. Someone with so much training ought to have better sense.”

He squeezes your hand and you look into his eyes again. He smiles a soft reassuring smile and for the first time in weeks, you feel like maybe everything will be okay again at some point in the future.

“You’re a good man, Kim Seokjin.”

“Best man on the ship.” He chuckles.

“Kiss me again.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Look there’s no one else here right? This is only about you. I want you.”

He kisses you again, tenderly this time. His warm arms wrap around and you realize you’re still naked except for your underwear. You curl into his embrace. He smells good, warm and manly, like good cologne. You run your hands over his muscular shoulders that you can feel through his clothes. It’s slow and leisurely, like you’re savoring each other.

“You sure you’re not a ‘sex in the sleep pods’ kind of guy?” You tease as you slide your thigh in between his legs and feel his erection pressing against you.

He groans, resting his head on your shoulder as you grind against him. “I’d like to think of myself as more of a ‘sex in the sleep pods after the third date’ kind of guy.”

You pause and look up at him surprised. “You want to go on a date?”

He nods. “At least three of them, in fact.”

You smile. “That would be nice. I’d like that.”

He kisses you behind your ear. “So are Mondays my day then? Can I take you on a date next Monday?”

You gasp as he rolls his hips against you, the heat of him seeping through his clothes. “That’s a long time to wait, especially if you’re going to make me wait through three of them.”

“I’m sure we can find other ways to entertain ourselves.” He cups your naked breast in his hand, massaging gently.

“Is there anything in particular you want to do today?” You palm his erection through his pants and he gasps.

“Stop that, you temptress…” He grits his teeth. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“Aww, come on, there must be something I can do for you.”

“Well…” He bites his lip. “I will admit that I am awfully curious what was on that video that got five of my crew members suspended.”

“I could show you.” You start to shimmy down your underwear. “But there was no touching in the video.”

He kisses you one last time on the cheek, before pulling away and pressing himself into the opposite wall of the sleep pod. “Okay, show me. I’ll be good.” He puts his hands up by his head in mock innocence.

You finish removing your underwear, spreading your legs apart as best you can. You trail a hand down between your legs, finding yourself wet already. “It was me masturbating.” You tease around your clit without touching it directly.

He groans, hips kicking forward as he stays up against the wall. “Show me.”

“Well, first I took my fingers and sucked on them.” You narrate your actions as you wet your fingers. “Then I touched my nipples.” Your nipples harden before you’ve even touched them, but you continue to tease them for his benefit.

His eyes dart back and forth between your face, your breasts, and your spread legs, as if he can’t decide where he wants to look first. He licks his lips like a man starving. “Keep going.”

“I’m very wet.” You continue your narration as he clenches his fists. You run your fingers through your wet folds, then hold them up to show him. His hips buck again as he groans, still fully dressed and pressed to the wall. “And then I touched my clitoris.” It’s your turn to moan as you finally touch your swollen pleasure center, stroking slowly and keeping your eyes fixed on Jin.

“Goddamn…” He drops to his knees, hands resting at his sides, eyes fixed on your hand as it strokes around your clit.

“Do you wish it was your fingers right now, instead of mine?” you ask.

He nods, tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth. He begins inching toward you on his knees. “Do you think… maybe…?”

“I thought we said no touching,” you tease when he gets to your feet, his head level with your hand, eyes fixed on your wet cunt as you continue to touch yourself.

“I just…” His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I want to smell you.” A pulse of arousal rocks through you at how eager he is. You nod. He moves his nose right over your pubic mound and inhales a long slow savoring breath, tickling your hairs.

“Ah…” He releases a long, loud satisfied moan. His knuckles turn white, but his face is relaxed. “You smell amazing.” He inches even closer, just millimeters separating you from his face and inhales again.

“Oh shit.” You feel the pleasure skyrocketing as your orgasm catches you off guard. You grab him by the back of the head to stabilize yourself and his nose bumps firmly against your clit.

He groans again, loudly right against you as he grinds his nose into you, letting you ride his face as your orgasm washes over you. You thread your fingers through his hair to hold him in place. He wraps his hands around the back of your thighs to press himself into you harder. You cry out as waves of muscle contraction course through you over and over.

“Fuck…” you both say in unison as you collapse back against the door. Your eyes meet and you both start laughing. He places a light kiss right below your belly button before he gets up.

“Well, I see why that was worth getting suspended for,” he says, unzipping his jumpsuit and using the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face.

“And you didn’t even come yet.” You slide your underwear back up, wondering if he would consider a blowjob to be a step too far before your first date.

“Um, actually…” he gestures down at his crotch and the new wet spot you find there makes your pelvic muscles clench.

“You came in your pants? Over me?”

Jin laughs. “God, you have no idea how sexy you are, do you?” He picks up your clothing off the floor, before kissing you softly on the forehead. “I will have a hard time waiting for Monday.”

“Me too.” You mutter and get a sudden sinking feeling. You don’t want this to be over right now. You want to stay here with him, to cuddle and be held by him, but you have made this very clear to everyone involved that these dalliances are not relationships. It’s just sex. And now the sex is over. Until next week.

You slip back into your clothes and give him one last kiss. You tablet pings as you head out into the hallway and you fish it out of your pocket.

Yoongi: Okay, I’m in.

Below his message is his signed HR form. A swell of smug satisfaction makes you smile as you cross the hall and climb into your own pod. You open up a group message for the five men whose signed forms you now have in your possession and type out the following:

Mondays: Jin

Tuesdays: Jungkook

Wednesdays: Taehyung

Thursdays: Jimin

Fridays: Yoongi

“Saturday and Sunday to be determined,” you whisper to yourself as you hit send.

____

Next part

#bts x reader #bts smut #ot7 x reader #void #btssavedmylifeblr

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chaoticevilbean · 3 years

Text

Another Star Wars AU, TBN*

*To-Be-Named

I love time travel. A lot. So here is a time-travel au, with the CW trio.

Somehow, perhaps by touching a Sith artifact, perhaps by the Force deciding they should, perhaps from some sort of weird ritual the locals were performing that the trio didn't know about, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Anakin, Rex, and Cody travel aback in time.

[Please keep in mind that Canon Timeline has died tragically in a fire, and I am but the weeping widow with an inheritance.]

Due to whatever happened, they all also end up (technically) deaging. They still have their memories and their knowledge and skills, just stuck in smaller bodies. They can think and act like adults, but they also have to struggle a bit more to implement Older Skills in Younger Bodies.

Ahsoka is 2. She's nubby. She's emotional. She's tired and sore from her deaging.

She wakes up in someone's office. She's in a spinny chair, a big one with leather padding. It's kind-of chilly in the room.

She's not thinking, because all her brain is putting together is that she's still tired. She grabs the jacket off the back of the chair and pulls it over herself. She goes back to sleep.

Rex and Cody wake up together.

They are their actual age, which is to say they're both about eleven.

They find themselves on Mandalore. In the more wild areas.

(let me believe that there are parts of the planet that aren't covered in city)

(also, this is the Mandalore in the cartoons)

They find a teen trying to wake them both up. Rex has absolutely no clue what's going on. Cody has a vague idea, because this girl looks very similar to a picture he once saw...

Obi-Wan does not fare as well. He is 3.

He wakes up in someone's arms. He's just as tired and sore as the other three. However, he's also got more awareness because he's in someone's arms.

He looks up to see who's carrying him.

He looks around at the people walking with them.

He starts crying. He cannot help this, as he is suddenly flooded with Emotions, and he is Smol. Smol = harder to handle Emotions.

Because Qui-Gon is walking right next to him, tapping away on a holopad as they go. Dooku is on his other side, on a comm call where both parties sound very tired.

And Obi-Wan is being held... by Obi-Wan.

So, yeah, not that great for a suddenly Smol Obi.

Now, Anakin is 8, so he's better off in that perspective.

But he wakes up on some remote planet without anyone around. He just was in the middle of a group, so he ends up kinda panicking.

Then he hears something coming towards him, and he panics more.

He's Tiny! He's Smol! He's massively at a disadvantage against attacks! He can't fight off whatever is on a planet like this!

It's Mace (and Depa).

Anakin, however, doesn't realize this. He has gone Feral.

Back to the beginning

Jango Fett has been very busy w/Important Mand'alor Paperwork all day. He finally has time to go and relax a little, and he makes it all the way down to the exit before he realizes:

It is really cold outside. He is not in armor bc he was planning to only do paperwork today (though he still has many weapons). When one plans to stay in the same room for almost the entire day, one does not wear normal garb.

That said, he has no protection from the cold. He forgot his jacket upstairs. He rushes back up to his office.

He distinctly remembers that he left the jacket on the back of his chair, not on the seat.

He also is wondering what that lump is.

He arms himself, grabs some of his "emergency" armor plating, and walks over to the chair.

He lifts his jacket up, expecting a bomb or some paperwork that fell off the desk, or something logical.

He does not expect to find a tiny Togruta child clinging onto the fabric, whining as they're woken up by his yanking of the jacket.

Jango's brain stutters for a moment, then he kicks into action.

First things first, he wraps the jacket around the Togruta. They thankfully stay asleep. Then he turns up the heat, because he knows the office has gotten colder in the twenty minutes or so he's been gone, and Togruta are from warm temperate zones.

He decides to call, in this order, a guard who can help him watch the Togruta (they did break in, after all), a medic to check the Togruta’s health, and the first person he can find in his contacts that might know an adult Togruta.

Next group

Rex and Cody manage to get the teen to stop fussing over them for long enough to ask for her name.

Her, clearly lying, but that’s understandable: My name is Ine.

Cody, who knows exactly who this is now: Oh, kriff. You’re Duchess Satine, aren’t you? Kriff.

Rex: Wait, Satine? As in the General’s Satine?

Satine, now very suspicious and reaching for her stunner: I think you need proper medical attention.

Cody, looking down at their eleven-year-old selves: Yeah, I think so, too.

They agree on one thing, at least.

Obi-Wan is crying. Loudly, uncontrollably, w/too many Emotions to even care that he’s supposed to be an adult rn.

Other Obi-Wan is very uncomfortable, bc he doesn’t know how to handle children too well.

They found this kid unconscious in the middle of a ruined, abandoned town.

Obi-Wan was meant to hold this kid while Qui-Gon did research and Master Dooku tried to convince the Council that it was entirely necessary to bring the kid back to Coruscant. Granted, they can still give the child to the locals at any time before they make it back to their ship, but apparently the Force is Being Loud.

The Force was Being Loud when it told Master Dooku to come along.

The Force was Being Loud when it led them to that town.

Qui-Gon and Dooku have argued fifteen and a half times on this mission, and an additional six times on the flight here. Obi-Wan is trying to mediate but also doesn’t want to overstep. The Force is Being Loud, sure, but the kid is also Force-sensitive so it might be something off that.

He didn’t argue with holding the kid bc he thought that it was better than being caught between the Masters.

Holding a crying child and trying to get two adults to stop arguing bc they can’t decide how to comfort the kid is not better.

Obi-Wan keeps walking past them to the ship with this baby. He does what he’s seen some crechemasters do to the younglings. The kid eventually calms a little, and he belatedly realizes that both Masters are still behind him, not with him.

Anakin is panakin.

He is currently in a state of Feralness. His instincts have kicked into overdrive, full-on Survival Mode.

Depa and Mace do not know this. All they know is that there was suddenly an extremely powerful Force presence that started fading quickly (bc Anakin started shielding).

They burst into sight of Anakin and are suddenly attacked by all four feet and some of Feral Force Child.

It’s all they can do for a good minute or so to avoid losing their fingers, eyes, or untorn clothes.

Mace puts a few things together very quickly.

This planet is uninhabited by any sapient life. Therefore, this child is utterly alone. This child also is clearly strong in the Force, and knows how to hide their presence, for whatever reasons. Mace is a Jedi, and therefore is bound by certain duties.

He decides it is his Duty to get this kid back to Coruscant safely.

Back to the beginning

Ahsoka wakes up to find a familiar face looking down at her. She’s still tired, but not as much. She’s very aware of her size, and does a few quick observations.

She does not fully know who Jango Fett is. She does know that some clones run off bc they hate war and weren’t given a choice an- no. Not going down that path yet.

Ahsoka assumes, semi-incorrectly, that she was shrunk or deaged and somehow found by a rogue clone.

She knows it’s a rogue clone bc they’ve got weird armor.

So she does the logical thing and tries to comfort this clone bc he looks really worried and kinda panicked. She stands up on the spinny chair and tries to balance and he practically lunges to help her and she can’t help but giggle, but it comes out in a bunch of chirps instead.

The clone picks her up and looks really awkward so she pats his face bc that’s the best she can do bc she doesn’t want to disprove the fact she’s two yet.

For all she knows, this rogue clone has no idea she’s actually a Commander in the GAR.

He doesn’t, but for different reasons than she thinks.

Rex and Cody go with Satine to the city. They have introduced themselves and said that they were separated from their aliit. They don't know where said aliit is.

Satine is highly suspicious by this point, bc these two kids recognized her with only part of her name, and they were alone, and they speak Basic with Mando'a thrown in.

Basically, she thinks that they're children of people like Death Watch, but she's too young to know that Death Watch isn't really into children.

Rex and Cody get checked over by a medic, but also start trying to get access to some working comms. They are refused on account of being suspicious children (which makes them a little upset bc they're not children)(Well, they are, but not those types of children)

They have not yet figured out that they are in the past, bc Cody and Rex only know that General Kenobi talks about Duchess Satine, and they know about Padme Amidala from General Skywalker, so clearly this Duchess is really young and the General simply viewed her as someone he wants to protect.

They are very very very wrong.

Obi-Wan manages to calm himself somewhat now that it's just him and... him.

He is three, and he knows roughly what's happening, so he knows he should probably act like a 3yo.

Unfortunately, he has very little understanding of how child ages work. 3 is smart enough to go up the stairs and communicate with adults, but def. not old enough to speak sentences that are 15 words long with at least 2 5-syllable words.

Fortunately, his older (younger?) self doesn't know children either.

So when this 3yo starts telling him that he needs to leave the two Masters on the planet and head to Tatooine really fast, Obi-Wan is more concerned about the idea than the strangeness of "this is a 3yo suggesting this".

Obi-Wan is really good at convincing people. Including himself. He manages to get Padawan Kenobi to leave supplies where the ship is supposed to be and head towards Tatooine.

He says that the Masters will be fine, they know how to survive, and they need to be alone together in order to work through all the tension. Plus, it gives them plenty of time to talk to the Council.

Toddler Kenobi also tells himself that he'll take the blow and say he used a mind-trick.

Padawan Kenobi doesn't believe him yet, but Toddler Kenobi smiles like a very smug adult and says "you'll get there eventually". What he truly means is up in the air.

Anakin, since waking up, knows much less than everyone else. Which is saying something.

He knows he's Smol. He knows he's Alone. He knows Someone has come and they are Strangers.

One thing about Anakin's instincts is that they are very much Survival Based. He was Feral when he joined the Jedi, only he had to hold those instincts back for most of his life bc of being a slave.

A slave cannot bite someone who approaches and Vibes Wrong.

By the time he felt okay with being Feral Out Loud, he also felt safe enough that he didn't need to activate his Survival Mode.

What I'm trying to say is that Anakin does not realize how strong his Feral Instincts are. He has absolutely no control over them rn.

When Mace decides to Help this child, this child is trying to Maul them.

Mace makes a small ruckus to draw Anakin's attention to him so Depa can move back. Depa pulls out her saber now that she won't hit the kid. The kid notices Purple and Bright and Lightsaber.

Lorge Jedi Mind says this is Good. Safe. Jedi.

Smol Feral Brain says this is Dangerous. Mean.

Anakin freezes on sight and just starts tracking Depa's saber. She does one of those things where a snake or something is focused and the person waves the fire or the food slowly to make sure the wolf is watching it and usually they toss the thing away so the snake follows it.

Mace instead takes this opportunity to wrap Anakin in his cloak. And Depa's cloak. And the spare ones in their bags.

Feral Child is not happy with this. Feral Child is also unable to scratch or Maul or do things other than bite and snarl.

Depa carries Feral Child while Mace comms the Temple and they walk back to their ship.

The Temple is having a field day.

First, one of their Shadows reports that a well-known bounty hunter got an emergency message from a pal of theirs that said Jango Fett needs help learning Togruta childcare.

Then they get a call from Dooku, which is not the mission report they wanted.

Yoda: Mission report, you have?

Dooku: Of a sort. We successfully spoke with the locals, then went to investigate a rather large disturbance.

Mundi: A disturbance?

Dooku: We found the source to be a Force-sensitive child.

Mundi: So you are here to ask for more time on the planet?

Dooku:...

Yoda: Bring the child back, you wish to?

Dooku, unapologetic: He is of an acceptable age to be admitted into the Temple, and no other beings were around at the time to entertain the idea of there being guardians.

The Council is sighing and muttering bc this is a Disaster Lineage (and they haven't even met the other two yet). Their call is interrupted by the sound of crying and Dooku saying the child's woken up.

Then there's another Shadow who sends a message saying a set of twins that seem like Death Watch were found by the heir of Clan Kryze.

Finally, to top everything off, they get a call from Mace Windu and Depa Billaba. Two very dignified, not-at-all chaotic Jedi from a perfectly respectable lineage.

Yeah, most of the Council and the Order itself forgets that Yoda had a hand in raising Windu. Yoda "Feral Grandpa" who throws children at every problem. Grandson isn't doing too well? Throw a child his way. Other grandchild is struggling to cope with grief? Throw another child their way. Oh, there's a war going on and newest grandchild is angry a lot? Here's a child!

The entire lineage has a soft spot for children.

Anyways...

Mace: Our mission was a success. We found the artifact and both specimens.

Koth: How long until your return?

Mace:...

Yoda: Found a child, you did?

Gallia: Master Yoda, that's a rather illogical guess. Once is unusual, twice is-

Mace: Oh, did Qui-Gon find a child as well?

Yoda, smugly: Bringing the child back, are you?

Depa, from the background, after a rather loud snarl is heard: We do not bite things, young one.

*more snarling*

Mace: We have no reason to believe he was not alone.

Tiin: *deep sighing*

Mundi: *mild confusion noises*

Koon, eagerly: Please send photos of this youngling. For the archives, of course.

Mace, nodding sagely: Of course.

*extremely loud yowl* *sounds of Mace turning*

Mace: DEPA!

Depa: He nearly bit off my finger!

Mace: That doesn’t mean you pinch him!

Depa: What else am I supposed to do?!

*sudden exclamation filled solely of Mando’a, Huttese and Twi’leki curses*

Mace: So, I don’t know if he speaks Basic, but Master Che should be able to talk him through a check-up.

Yeah, several Council members are experiencing headaches now. Normally, they would have some empathy for Mace and his own stress-induced migraines. They currently do not.

Right after that call, Dooku calls back to say that Obi-Wan has left without them.

Mundi: He left the child with you, right?

Dooku:

Mundi: He left the child with you, right?

Obi-Wan did not leave himself with the Masters. Obi-Wan has listened to Mini-Obi and is off on some wild space adventure to a criminal-run planet.

The toddler won’t stop staring at him. He asks for a name. The kid says to call him Ben.

OW: Is that your name?

“Ben”: It is a name I am called :)

OW: That isn’t what I meant.

“Ben”: I know :)

Ben also keeps staring at OW’s lightsaber. OW decides to make sure the kid doesn’t start playing with it when he isn’t looking.

MEANWHILE

Ahsoka has figured out that she was really very oh-so wrong. She’s on Mandalore. As in, the Mandalore that is under Jango Fett. Bc she’s with Jango Fett. He’s holding her hand bc she was nervous about the strange looking medic (who was just wearing armor, but not clone armor and civies don’t wear armor.)

Ahsoka knows very little about Jango Fett. Clone Buir, Mandalorian leader, tried to kill Master Kenobi. Also dead.

He asks how she got in. She shrugs. She is too small to fight back so she can’t let him know anything. Whatever everything is right now. But also, he doesn’t seem mean or evil or anything.

Oh yeah. Skyguy said that Mandos love children. That's why the clones were so protective of her, even with Skyguy on her side of the argument.

She decides to use this to her advantage. She can probably get herself a comm, and enough time to call the Temple. If she can convince them she at least knows a Jedi, then they can come get her and she'll work from there.

ELSEWHERE

Rex and Cody are getting really upset. This Duchess is really nice, but she's acting really weird and keeps insisting she's not actually called Duchess. No one will give them a comm, they keep getting weird looks for speaking Mando'a even though they're on Mandalore, and Satine's father keeps mentioning a Fett. Maybe Boba's set a bad example again.

Rex starts to fall asleep, to his chagrin. He's too bored, sitting and getting some abnormally extensive check-up. Cody is fine, but he's used to the calm that is General Kenobi. Rex usually has a Togruta teen in the vents and a Human that is never where he's supposed to be.

Rex does, in fact, fall asleep. His "twin" starts glaring when a doctor goes to wake him up. Cody makes it clear that his brother is like Cat: once asleep, you do not wake.

Satine is giggling, but trying not to let the others hear. Cody does. Cody looks at her. They have a stare-off.

Cody goes back to glaring at the doctors. He will not admit to any emotions besides Protect™.

BACK TO

Obi-Wan and Ben have made it to Tatooine.

#star wars #star wars fic #another star wars au #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #kote fett #cody fett #rex fett #cody #rex #ahsoka tano #disaster lineage #mace windu #depa billaba #jango fett #duchess satine #time travel #deaging

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dystopiandilfs · 3 years

Text

Dream's discord podcast. Basically him answering questions for 2.5 hours. This will sort of be in order but I fucked up my notes so it might not be in order completely. (From 13th May 2021)

For reference the photos at the end are: A prototype of fidget spinner merch as loads of people asked, a reference photo of his favourite merch and a photo he sent of his hair to prove he wasn't a brunette.

•He said his teeth are mostly straight but he's thought about getting Invisalign. He's never had braces. He has a tiny gap in the left side of his mouth and his canines are longer and sharper (vampire arc). He's never had teeth surgery so has his wisdom teeth still.

•He thinks pineapple on pizza is good.

•He likes seafood like lobster and crab. He had crab made in an air fryer last night. He like peas. He thinks quesadillas are good and likes most food.

•He hates Coffee and most drinks

•The Dream Shorts team is Ken who is his personal reminder (Ken's main job is to spam him with texts so he doesn't forget things as he's got a habit of reading texts and not replying) and also comes up with a list of sets for Dream shorts. The builder is a friend and munchymc builder "his talent gets wasted on Dream's shorts but we pay him so"

•His editors are currently Dizzy, Firesale and Mjcr. Willz doesn't edit for him anymore

•The mask animation isn't done but Mask should be released May 21st. He wants to release them together as "the whole song is a double meaning and the whole nuance will be lost without the animation" but no matter if the animation is done the song is getting released on the 21st.

•He and Sapnap eat together often.

•He and Sapnap prefer medium rare Steak

•He wants a home gym it's something he's willing to splurge on. They currently have a weight rack but they haven't even set it up.

•"Eat the rich? Shut up shut up" - Dream

•Talked about money basically saying "Most people don't understand how money works I don't have millions in my bank account it's in assets like merch, land and warehousing for that stuff" (He's not in his landlord arc)

•He's been debating Pride Merch because of Rainbow Capitalism. He doesn't want it too be seen as a money maker and if he does most proceeds would go to charity. He's currently super busy merch wise with Sapnap joining and George in the middle of joining. He did say "Only if the LGBTQ+ community in this community wants it" He thinks he's going to at least change the merch website to a pride one. Sapnap wants to make pride merch including a rainbow flame on his.

•He wants to create a charity that's centered around helping LGBTQ+ one day because he thinks that there's a lack of them. He mentioned that creating a charity was expensive and took a lot and was a complicated process including a board of directors but he wants to do it someday.

•He wanted to buy a bunch of houses in Florida which was a service to house mostly LGBTQ+ youth and people stuck in abusive households for free to get them out of bad home environments. But he didn't because he didn't want people thinking he was profiting of of abuse victims and LGBTQ+ community.

•He said he's terrible with time management and replying to people which is why Ken helps him (and also helps George and Sapnap). He mentioned how Sam messaged multiple times and Dream just forgot to answer but felt bad "I feel like people think I hate them..... Cause I'd be mad if people did that to me"

•He tries to reply to a few texts a day (community number). He also can't do birthday messages everyday because you can only reply at certain times so it's not abusing the system so if you get one it's special. He said he does try but it's got a weird time gap.

•Him and the manhunt winner are trying to come up with a good time to film

•He wants to stream this MCC on twitch and says his team is good.

•He talks about why he's not partnered with Twitch. Basically Twitch has a lock rate (in which you make money) and you legally can't stream on YouTube. So legally if Tommy wanted to stream on YouTube he couldn't. Someone then mentioned how Bad is a twitch partner but still streams on YouTube "Bad streams on YouTube but he has for a while and I don't think that he cares" - Dream

•He likes to reply to every donation he gets on stream and feels bad when he doesn't so he'll turn them off when he streams and wants a platform deal where he can be payed to stream (not twitch). If he gets a streaming partnership he will stream a couple of times a week. He looked in to Facebook but they don't have an alias system meaning you can see everyone's actual Facebook account and personal info, he doesn't like seeing real names on Facebook so it would require a lot of altering if he was to stream there so he's thinking it's probably going to be YouTube.

•He was asked about if his demographic was what he expected and he said he went in with no expectations, he didn't even know what stans were, wasn't really on social media so he wasn't aware of the fan culture. "You guys are a handful sometimes but it's worth it"

•He also mentioned how he and the DreamSMP changed the twitch audience demographic. It used to be male dominated in both streamers and audience and now it's almost split which is unheard on.

•He has 5 fidget spinners in his house. Two in his bedroom. Two in his office. One in the living room.

•He likes his Minecraft skin as he thinks the arm is cook and you never see the rest of his skin really. He says it's unique and different and "me". Dream: You can't even tell half the skins apart on MC.

•He's not lost the motivation to stream. Most of the times if he wants to stream he gets George or Sapnap to do it and he just turns up. It's more beneficial to them as they have donos and subs on. (Don't we fucking know it "can you say hi to")

•He has listened to Lovejoy. Says the ep was great and they're very talented and awesome. Doesn't know what his favourite song is but probably would pick One Day because the chorus slaps.

•RIP to acoustic Roadtrip. He said instead of acoustic Roadtrip we get Mask so no losses today for Dream stans.

•"With Roadtrip I went to Parker and I said Hey I have a story I want to tell through music. I have no experience with that can you help me" He said sure. He crafted the music and melodies and how things are formed where it's catchy. I have less comfort singing that. I love the song and it's my song, it's very representative of me and I'm sure I could sing it but it's a song I'd be kinds of scared to sing live, with Mask I basically did everything. I sat there the entire time and maybe an hour out if the 100 I wasn't in the call. Dream came up with the lyrics and main melody for Mask (First one he's ever come up with) "That was just notes in my fucking voice memos"

•The clip we heard of Mask was a prechorus not the actual chorus. He thinks he'd be more comfortable to do a mask acoustic and it's more melodic than Roadtrip. The chorus also has a lot of instruments similar to Roadtrip. Mask starts of slow and guitar with minimal reverb and is more raw.

• He doesn't want music to be his main thing. It's something fun to do and he's passionate about it as it's a way to express emotions. He wants to release mask then go from there. He wants to release at least one more song but has nothing on his mind currently. His two ideas were Roadtrip and Mask.

•He wouldn't quit his job to become a pizza delivery man.

•His favourite features on himself are eyes or freckles and he also confirmed that he does have eyebrows.

•He was told that Parkour warrior would be bought back some time in the near future and he got excited for it. "Even if I don't win, which I will, it'll be fun"

•Went on about his MCC team but I'm not going to put that in as we should be getting them today. He did say he wasn't on Pink but he did sound confused. (For reference he's always in Pink as it's the last team announced and keeps the hype up by announcing the biggest streamer last)

•Said he and his mum had the Mr Beast burger. He recommends because he likes the avacado. He mentioned how Mr Beast uses "Ghost Kitchens" which is basically where he gives restaurants permission to cook his food so it's restaurant quality food.

•His favourite piece of merch is the circle smile. (The pool photo on Instagram). He said the quality was bad (he worked with a different company and didn't have his own company) and it was elasticy feeling and he's planning on re-releasing it again but with good quality.

•He's started to send merch out in custom packaging. So his bags have the smile and will mostly be green. Sapnap's has the flame and is either black or white. He's also trying to make it so every order has the sticker packs for both him and Sapnap.

•He loves the coins as it's cheaper than a hoodie but still celebrates the milestones and will last a long time. He mentioned how the old coins are getting removed off the site and how if you have any of the coins your special because only a few thousand get made. He's kept around 100 of each coin that he wants to give away in person.

•He wanted to have a cool store where you could access computers that give you access to the DreamSMP in spectator mode. But it's too costly and would require too much time and isn't safe fight now. He doesn't think it'd be worth it financially.

•Most of the hoodie are black instead of multiple colours because of limited supply and covid. Getting the colours are harder because if the pandemic which hopefully won't be an issue soon.

•He wants to do a short meetup tour with Sapnap and George with a few locations in the US (and if others nearby want to join like Quackity or Karl they can). He also wants to visit Australia, UK, Canada, Mexico and Philippines and do something like that there but definitely at least visit with George and Sapnap.

•He's never been to the Philippines but his mum has. He wants to set up a place in the Philippines where he can ship merch in bulk and it would help to reduce shipping. However it would probably be big milestone merch.

•He's not got the vaccine yet but will get it when he needs to. He doesn't leave the house so he doesn't see the point.

•He's the ideas man. George's footcam video was Dream's idea. The T-shirt video was Dream's idea. Most if not all of the Dream Team's videos are Dream's ideas.

•Said he's got a similar/the same hair colour as Froy (Dream buddy at this point the only difference between you and Froy is that one of you is dating Richard Madden /lh)

#dreamsmp #dream smp #dreamwastaken #mcyt #georgenotfound #sapnap

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javier-pena · 3 years

Text

take

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

Word Count: 3k

Rating: Explicit (that means 18+/no minors!!)

Summary: Javi and you are enjoying breakfast on his yacht until things take an unexpected turn.

Notes: I saw a picture of Javi and all I could think was, “I wanna feed him berries”. So that’s the reason I wrote this fic. That’s the only excuse I have. Oh and also that I want Javi to call me a bad girl but whatever, we don’t need to talk about that. Anyway, as always, I owe most of this to Dani @javierpcna, literally everything I write should come with Dani’s name listed as co-author, her support knows no bounds, she literally drops everything when I send her a fic to proofread, and this was no different. And she also lets me use her brilliant lines from time to time, for which I can never repay her.

Notes II: I have neither seen the movie nor have I read the script, so if there are any spoilers in there (I doubt it) I didn’t put them in intentionally.

Notes III: Artwork by @honestly-shite | Moodboard by @frankiemorales

***

One.

He lets you feed him one berry, but only after you tell him how good they taste, how they melt on your tongue, how they fill your mouth with a soft sweetness. He raises an eyebrow at that, and you know what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t say it. Instead, he takes the small blueberry from your outstretched fingers, leaning on the laden breakfast table to make it easier for you to reach him. The berry is so small it’s impossible for him to pull it in between his lips without the tip of your finger vanishing, too. You shudder at the sensation, shudder despite the heat, despite the hotness of his tongue brushing against your sensitive skin.

Javi hates breakfast. He hates dedicating time during his busy day, during the mornings when he feels most productive, to eating when it can be done en passant. You keep telling him it’s not healthy to eat while he’s distracted, and you’ve been trying to convince him to have breakfast with you for a few weeks now.

Why, babe? You said distraction is bad for me when I eat.

He still doesn’t eat during the mornings, only drinks his heavy, smoky, black coffee, but he keeps you company now whenever he can. He reads to you from the morning paper, he tells you about his plans for the day, or he listens to you talking about a dream you had last night or about things you would like to do with him one day. And today … today he even made time to take you out on his yacht, to anchor it in a secluded bay where there’s no noise except the lapping of the waves against the bright white hull of the ship and the cries of the seagulls circling above, hoping to snatch a crumb of the croissant on your plate. Today, he’s made time to be with you.

Two.

You try it again, another berry, another taste of sweetness, another burst of flavor and color and sugary juices. This time it becomes clear he’s chasing something else, craving something else, as he sucks on your finger, just for a brief moment, just under the pretense of getting the sticky juice off your skin, but he also isn’t shy about it, he also doesn’t try to hide what he’s doing. Your skin prickles when he releases the digit, and you pull your hand back across the table too quickly, too hastily. He notices and leans back on his expensive outdoor couch with a satisfied sigh.

You dry your finger against the hot skin of your leg, already burning up with the heat of the approaching day, even though you keep to the shadows. Only your feet rest on an empty chair in direct sunlight, while you keep the rest of your body safe under a wide canopy. Javi is doing the complete opposite. He’s lounging in direct sunlight, and you’ll never understand how he can stand it. Your skin always starts to tickle and itch from the heat, while he looks like he was made to live in a Mediterranean country and spend his days in the sun.

The bright, orange shirt he’s wearing is unbuttoned to expose half his chest. His bronze skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, and you cannot tear your eyes away from it, imagining what it would feel like to run your fingers over it, how hot it would feel under your hands, how he would sigh and relax into your touch. His chest is your favorite place in the entire world. You feel safe when you rest your hand on it, when he softly runs his fingers along your arm, tells you how beautiful you look, how he will always take care of you, no matter what, how you’ll never need to worry about anything ever again because you’re his and he’s yours. And you feel oh so secure when you’re trapped under it, when you feel its weight pressing down on you, when your sharp nails leave angry, red scratches on his soft skin as he whispers into your ear – encouraging, soothing, filthy.

Three.

You want to see it move, see the muscles flex and strain as he leans forward again to accept a third berry from you. And this time he’s not shy about it anymore. This time, he does suck your finger in between his lips, the berry forgotten, and you see his eyes widen behind his dark sunglasses. You suck in a sharp breath at the sight. He releases your finger with a wet pop and suddenly this isn’t enough. Suddenly you need more, more of him, but you lower your gaze to your plate instead to hide your shining eyes. There is a time and place for these things and the deck of his yacht in broad daylight isn’t it.

But you cannot deny what your body wants, even though your mind tells the aching between your legs to shut up. You push yourself out of your chair fast and within a few steps you’re leaning against the railing, hoping to catch a breeze to soothe your flushed face. But there is none, only unbearable heat.

When you turn around again, you feel a different kind of heat; Javi’s gaze is on you as he takes you in. You know he loves to do this, especially when you’re wearing something he bought you, like you’re doing this morning – an expensive black bikini that leaves little to the imagination, one you found on your bed one morning with a small note that made you shudder, so you decided to save it for a special occasion. And you were right to do so because he’s unable to tear his eyes away from you.

You walk back to the table as slowly as possible, determined to finish breakfast, but something pulls you toward him, like an invisible rope slung around your waist, like his gaze is enough to make you lose all sense of control. And before you know it, you’re straddling his thigh, while he pulls you into a kiss, one that lasts forever yet not long enough, one that sets you on fire more than the sun on your back yet makes you want to expose more skin so more of you will get burned.

The second his teeth release your lip his hands fly up to rest against your hips, his grip firm but easy to get out of if you wanted to. “Is there something you wanted, baby?” he asks you, innocence written all over his face, as if he truly is completely unaware of the effect he has on you, of the things he makes you want to do when his eyes follow you around like you’re the eighth wonder of the world.

You bite your lip, bite the spot that still feels raw from where he sucked on it moments earlier, and then you start rolling your hips, start chasing the friction to relieve some of the hot, searing pressure that’s been building between your legs since he sucked your finger into his mouth. You see his eyes lower dangerously when he realizes what it is you want from him, and everything shifts, shifts as if the yacht is hit by a strong wave. You’re all too familiar with this change and you know exactly what it means, and what it entails.

One of your hands lands on the collar of his shirt out of its own free will, your fingers clawing at the material in a desperate attempt to steady yourself. The palm of your other hand presses against his warm, sun-kissed chest, your nails eager to leave marks on his skin. But instead of pressing into your touch, he leans back and watches you with mild interest.

This is all the permission you need. You grind your hips with a sense of purpose now, and when you feel the muscles of his leg tense between yours, a small whimper escapes your lips.

He smirks at you, and you know his eyes are sparkling, even though you can’t really see them. “Come on,” he urges you, pressing up into you, “make yourself feel good.”

With a desperate moan, your head falls onto his shoulder, your forehead scraping against his shirt, and you bite your lip because it’s the only thing stopping you from biting the exposed skin of his neck. You know he’d like that, he likes it when you are rough with him, but it also unleashes something in him you want to keep locked away today. You know it’s selfish and greedy, but all you want to do this morning is take, and not think about him.

He makes that resolve very difficult to keep.

“You like that, don’t you?” he asks you, a hand at the back of your neck, trying to get you to lift your head.

You don’t answer him, you can’t, but you indulge him and lift your head again. You pick up the pace, determined to show him how much you like it, how good it makes you feel, but he only smirks at you again, like he doesn’t need an answer anyway, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

And suddenly, suddenly that selfish streak is gone, and you want him closer to you, all over you, inside of you. You don’t care that you have to give up the last bit of control you cling to, and give yourself over completely to him, you don’t care that it’s broad daylight and that another boat could sail into your tiny bay any second now, you don’t care about being discovered or about this being, strictly speaking, illegal. You just care about him fucking you like he does when he has you to himself, sprawled out under him, trapping you with his broad chest and toned arms, forcing you to take whatever he gives you.

But before you can tell him any of that, the hand at the back of your neck is gone and he lifts up his sunglasses and tosses them aside, so you can look right into his eyes, so you can see that you’re not the only one who’s affected by all of this. His gaze roams all over you, from your eyes shining with hazy lust to your legs squeezing around his thigh and your hips rolling with an urgency, pushing you steadily closer to finding the release you’re chasing. But this isn’t enough, you both know that; it’s enough to keep the fire going, but not enough to push you over the edge.

His free hand brushes against the exposed skin of your belly, his fingers run along the seam of your bikini top, and you push yourself forward, willing him to cup your breasts, pinch your nipples, anything, anything to relieve the ache and burning, the feverish craving you feel for his touch, his lips, his words that leave no doubt about who is in control. But he doesn’t give you any of that. Instead, his hand moves to your back to steady you, to hold you in place, and all he does is toy with the strap of your top holding everything in place at the back of your neck.

You don’t know what makes you look down to where your bodies are connected, but you do, and he follows your gaze. You both watch as a dark patch forms on the light fabric of his slacks, as it spreads more and more with each thrust of your hips.

“You’re making a mess,” Javi breathes quietly, so quietly you almost don’t catch it over the sound of the water against the yacht’s hull. His gaze is transfixed, his attention is on the evidence of your arousal as he watches with great interest. You feel heat spread from your chest along your arms and up your neck to your face, but you don’t stop.

“Look at you, princess,” he goes on, his left hand gripping your side tighter to slow you down until you drag yourself along his leg painfully slowly. “Look at how you’re getting daddy’s trousers all wet, they’re probably ruined now.” He pauses at your sharp intake of breath. There’s a dark glint in his eyes when he speaks next. “You’re a bad girl.”

You’re pretty sure the sound you make isn’t human. He lets go of your side and rests his hand on your thigh, letting you set the pace again.

“Please,” you whine, and you don’t quite know why you say it, what you want him to do, you just know he needs to do something, or you’ll go crazy. “Please, Javi,” you repeat. “Please, just … touch me,” you finish, and it’s stupid, he is touching you, just not in the way you mean, but you cannot come up with anything else to say.

“You’re always so greedy,” he observes, not making any move to fulfil your request. “I’m already giving you what you want and still you want more. Don’t you want to be daddy’s good girl?”

You don’t know the answer to that question. You wouldn’t know your own name if he asked you right now. Not because of the things he’s saying but because he raises his leg ever so slightly to push up against your clit and every coherent thought you might have had is drowned out by incoherent sounds leaving your mouth. You press down against him, grinding down with so much force he’s bound to lower his leg. Only … he doesn’t.

“Sorry, I didn’t get that,” he says, a picture of calmness and poise. “Can you repeat that for me?”

You absolutely cannot because you can’t remember what you said in the first place, but you give it another try. “Javi, please, give me something,” you swallow, “anything. Touch me, please.”

“No,” he says, but his voice sounds strained now, like uttering that two-letter word takes a lot of effort. “I want to hear you beg.”

“Please,” you say again, knowing it won’t be enough. “Please, I can’t …”

“Why not?” he wants to know.

“It’s not enough, I ...,” you swallow again, your throat completely dry, “why are you doing this to me?”

“Oh, baby, you’re not even trying to get yourself off,” Javi chuckles. “I know you can do better than that.”

“I am trying,” you tell him, but it’s nothing more than a desperate whine.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he asks you.

And he’s right, it is, it was ten minutes ago when you thought all you had to do was look pretty and he’d fuck you, but now that he’s seen right through you, now that he has decided he doesn’t want to give you anything more than he has to, it isn’t anymore. You want so much more than this, and you know there’s just one way to get it.

With a small movement you change your position slightly until you roll your hips against where he’s straining against the fabric of his slacks, and a low hiss is your reward, followed by a sharp slap to your ass that makes your hips stutter, and you lose your steady rhythm. Both his hands are on your hips again and he pushes you down hard against the firm muscles of his thigh.

“Oh no, you don’t,” he tells you. “I’m gonna give you what you came here for, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Javi,” you groan.

His hands move your hips, his arms straining with the effort of keeping you in place, and you let him, even though all you can think about is his hard cock only inches away from you. You think about him pushing into you, about the filthy, wet sounds it would make, about how he’s the only one who can reach so deep inside of you he makes you see stars with every thrust.

“All right,” Javi says. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “You can have it.”

You’re sure you misheard. You’re sure he didn’t just say that. After all he’s put you through, he won’t give in that easily. But you clench around nothing nevertheless, clench around thin air at the thought of him inside of you.

“Later,” he adds, and your heart almost stops. “I’m gonna fill your pretty mouth, but only if you’re good for me.”

You want to, you’re trying to, but you cannot do this anymore. If he’s not going to touch you, if he won’t fuck you, you have to do it yourself.

One of your hands leaves his strong shoulders and you frantically push the fabric of your swimsuit aside, pressing a finger against your aching clit. You moan in relief, but it only lasts a moment, because his left hand closes tightly around your wrist without any warning, and he twists your arm until he has it in a firm grip pressed against your back. The ring he wears on his little finger digs painfully into your soft skin.

“You were doing so well,” he says with a disappointed sigh.

“It’s not –,” you start, but you’re not allowed to finish the sentence.

“No, it is enough,” he tells you firmly, his eyes boring into yours.

But he does reach up, he does pull the string of your top until it comes loose and your tits spill out. He lets go of your arm but before you can decide what to do with your newfound freedom, his fingers close around your throat at the same time as his mouth closes around one of your nipples.

That’s all it takes.

You arch your back with a scream and come right there on his thigh in broad daylight, while he holds you in place with hands and mouth. It goes on forever, or at least it feels like that, and he’s unrelenting, first sucking one nipple into his mouth, then biting down hard on the other. When it becomes clear he’s not planning on stopping, you grab a fistful of his soft curls and pull him away from your chest with a sharp tug.

“Had enough?” he asks, his lips shiny and slightly swollen.

You nod slowly because you don’t trust your voice right now.

“Well, I haven’t,” he growls. “And I will tell you when you’ve had enough.”

taglist: @badbatches, @darksber, @doin-stuff, @filthybookworm, @for-my-satisfaction, @frannyzooey, @javigutierrez, @karkii, @pann-malii, @raspberrymama, @silksaddle, @skeletonstwins, @skyshipper, @sunnydunnydays

#the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez #pedro pascal #fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #i hope it makes sense #i'm high up in the mountains so if it doesn't it's the lack of oxygen

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okay-computer · 2 years

Note

i've got two inquiries. i'm looking for a colour accurate & bright display, 13 inches, doesnt have to be a powerhouse but i want to run krita/clip studio. i have a desktop for more powerful things like triple a games & video editing. below is what i'm considering for myself. 400 nits, 100%srgb (adobe is better but srgb is good enough) medium-sized ssd, windows 10 pro. my budget's $1000 & i need a windows machine.

HP Premium Envy 13 Laptop | 13.3" FHD IPS 100% sRGB Display | 11th Gen Intel 4-Core i5-1135G7 (> i7-1065G7) | 8GB DDR4 512GB SSD | Backlit Fingerprint B&O USB-C Win10 Pro Silver + 32GB Micro SD Card https://a.co/d/efuaE8m

what kind of gaming laptop would run easier tasks like minecraft, roblox, etc. as my friend wants to buy one for her brother. under $500 is ideal, new or used. i know that's a difficult ask. i'm thinking a used/refurb acer nitro? he needs it for high school courses as well. thanks!

in addition to my double question post. just going to add a few more laptops that would support my needs. forgot to mention i need it for notes in college, so fan noise, battery life, durability, and portability are important. around 400 nits of brightness or above. lit keyboard isn't necessary but is nice. i appreciate it!

So it looks like you've got some pretty specific needs and pretty specific ideas about what you want, I'm not sure how much I can help you there. I can say that of the three computers I'm seeing linked, I'd be a bit concerned about spending that much on a 5-year-old laptop (the one with the 8th gen i5) considering that the other specs aren't all that impressive. Other than that, those all seem to be fine machines for the money.

Displays are going to display different colors; what you can do regardless is to calibrate your display. Not to be a million years old, but back in my day that's how we did it to get our designs from our PowerPC iMacs to our printer for the weekly edition of the newspaper. Here are a few ways you can try to calibrate any display (which is a good idea for everyone, tbh): https://www.makeuseof.com/how-to-calibrate-monitor-colors/

I don't know anything about gaming computers or gaming requirements, the MSI I recced earlier today might be a decent option for some basic games, but i think you're stuck with onboard graphics for that one. That may be okay for roblox, it may not; I don't know.

As to noise and battery life, you're going to have to check the reviews. Most ultra-slim computers will have low fan noise simply because their fans are going to be tiny; the issue is that if the fan gets loud because something goes wrong, it's going to be hard to replace. Honestly if you're planning on using one computer for graphics and for being a lightweight study machine, I would say "don't." Get the cheapest, smallest chromebook you can for notes in class and carrying around campus, and invest as much as possible into something with a huge screen and a ton of RAM and a newer processor for your graphics. The refurbished 17" I recced earlier might work, but that is a fucking cafeteria tray sized computer, you don't want to haul it around campus, it won't fit on most of the desks.

But, uh, yeah, as someone who spent a literal decade doing page layout on 13.3" screens, get yourself something that is big enough to have an actual visible workspace for art and design.

#asks answered

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lordymaru · 3 years

Text

I'm about to refute this entire essay with the simple explanation being:

The only interaction we've seen of these two is when she's a freaking 8 year old. Your self insert shows no boundaries.

And this is probably the last time I'll make a post about the stupidity behind the way the pair is viewed:

Note: I know there's people out there with a brain who ship these two in a more conventional way. In the end you do you, ship whatever you want, no one can prevent you from doing that, just don't be gross about it.

One of the parts being the Significance of their first encounter:

She’s a poor peasant girl who’s suffered immense trauma, suffering, and loneliness. Her initiative to help Sesshomaru came from her generosity

Exactly, she's alone for her family had been killed before her eyes, the villagers treat her like garbage. When she meets Sess he's wounded and simply in a bad state, both mentally and physically. Both of them are, the difference being he's a demon, a powerful one and for him to have ended in such a bad shape only stabbed at his pride- Rin on the other hand is a child, a human tiny child who is vulnerable and to him she poses no threat. Both of them are weak then.

At this point, it’s observable that despite knowing her story, her scars, and her difficulties, humans do not even empathize, let alone sympathize with Rin. It is the feudal era, after all. She’s a young, disabled orphan and the villagers only see her for what she lacks: a voice, a family, and a place of belonging.

Again with your feudal era shit. I can assure you the world is just as ugly today as it was before you and I existed. Next.

When he asks about her bruises, this is the first time anyone had ever afforded her a second glance.

This was a huge step forward for Sess, a huuuuuuge one for he showed interest in another living creature, not just any creature but a human. And for her it was probably like Christmas, for no one had showed her any mercy or interest. Ok you get a point. But oh, boy, how I'm about to spit on the next one:

The audience can see Sesshomaru calculate her body language, recognizing that she is mute. Instead of pressing her further or ignoring her outright, he attempts to comfort her (in his own way), making her feel that it is okay if she chooses not to answer him; that her desire to reply to him should only be a desire, not an obligation. I think, on one hand, that was the first moment of something that would resemble compassion that Sesshomaru had ever administered, trying to put himself in her shoes — if someone had asked him to do something that required, for example, his left arm, he probably would have appreciated them saying “you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to” so to provide him agency for something that he actually cannot do. And the same goes for Rin. He recognizes her disability, maybe even resonates with it and decides to empower her with a choice. Choice is important when it comes to the Sesshomaru/Rin dynamic and it’s a word that will come up often.

Ok why are you comparing the loss of his arm to her not being able to talk? Not all disabilities are the same, you moron. Or am I dumb for thinking this way? If so, feel free to call me out on my lack of common sense kr whatever you wanna call it. Sess physically couldn't do shit with his left arm because well- it was gone! That's a physical disability. Rin had "lost" her voice after what she witnessed and so she wouldn't speak anymore. Have you heard of Psychogenic Dysphonia? If not, you can click here and give it a reading or do your own research. The more you know: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0892199703000158

So you say he "empowers her with a choice" that is "important when it comes to the Sesshomaru/Rin dynamic" let me get this straight, a choice because why? She's a child? A female? Because you said so yourself, it's the Feudal Era after all and therefore women had no choice in life, no voice, no agency, no nothing. So he was being magnanimous then? You know... This is where you start edging into the gr00ming territory. Can't you see? No? Alright, moving on.

BRUH WHAT THE FUCK?! Are you fucking good? See how you self insert? Bye. Next

The next time Sesshomaru sees Rin, it is suggested that he actively sought her, whether it be by curiosity or concern for well-being

He did... It is not suggested, he actually did asdfhkl. For both curiosity and he probably was worried. He also states he wants to test out his sword, what a perfect chance to do so for Rin is pretty much dead and that's the only way to make his sword work. So she was both being a guinea pig and an itch he wasn't quite sure how to scratch. Next.

Silence Rin.

Rin screams endlessly, annoying Sesshomaru. Firstly, this is the first time we hear him call her by her name. Secondly, Sesshomaru is visibly annoyed by her noises, however, he does not tell her to “shut up” as he normally would with Jaken or even InuYasha. He simply says “enough of that Rin, stop it.” (In Japanese he says, “Silence, Rin. You make too much noise.”) Even analyzing the Japanese dialogue, it is evidently softer than Sesshomaru’s usual ‘kisama’ (貴樣) manner of speech that we see depicted usually. This is the first time he’s had a companion who is not a demon, someone with compassion, and who has had his general best interests at heart with no expectations in return. His softer tone is a logical deduction to make.

Ok... "someone with compassion, and who has had his general best interests at heart with no expectations in return." Bruh... As if he would even consider meeting someone's expectations. Are you sure you're talking about Sess? Another thing is, he always speaks in a calm tone, he rarely yells or loses his composure- he had no reason to be rude to her either, you're excusing his regular behavior simply because she ain't Jaken. Anything else?

Rin doesn't change Sesshomaru overnight, it's a gradual and long process

Well duh!!! Just like you don't lose the pounds you gained from eating in one sit 12 donuts a week ago. Stating the obvious and for what? What's exactly your mf point?

The silence part is important, idk how to tell you there is a power imbalance in their relationship from the moment he tells her to be quiet. He didn't say please, he didn't ask her to, he told her to be quiet. Like a parent would, if I could count the times my mom told me to shush.... That's your first indicator he is not her friend, he is not her equal.

Letting you Be Yourself: The Panther Demon Arc

the first frame the audience sees in the anime sets the scene, painting the Sessshomaru entourage in a serene manner, indicating a level of comfort between group members (episode 75). This is vastly different from our last depiction of Sesshomaru and Rin’s relationship. In episode 44, he was unable to withstand her (albeit annoying) childish antics. But here, it’s observable that Sesshomaru can accept her and her package of unconventional fun. Not only does he tolerate and even more so, accept Rin, but he accepts her influence on his vassal, Jaken and allows them to be free around him.

Is called developing patience. I can assure you that when you're a parent or an older bro/sis and your kid/younger sibling is noisy af you either learn to tolerate that or get used to it for kids are kids abd you have to let them be kids. Next.

She's a child, she's not stupid.

The Abducted Rin: Calling her Name

The respect that Sesshomaru shows Rin is insurmountable. However, the InuYasha franchise is clever to portray the subtlety of Sesshomaru’s respect for her. KV on Twitter points out how highly he regards his companion and never relegates her to anything less than the value that she as a person embodies (@KVndie via Twitter). He consistently humanizes her.

He only sees how important she is to him after her ass dies a second time. What do you mean? He respects her enough to not coddle her, she is independent and taught her to be self sufficient from the very start. That's respect. He consistently humanizes her because... She ... Is ... Human! OMG WHAT A SHOCKER!

As Naraku remarks on his hostage to Sesshomaru, "Naturally, the girl you're looking for is not here…,” he continues, “the girl is in custody outside of the castle..." Naraku never makes an attempt to give her personhood, leaving her unnamed, disposable, and relegating her to a mere "girl." But Sesshomaru doesn’t take any of this. He is a cold-hearted Daiyokai, yet he still makes an effort and upholds his principle to refer to her as Rin — not a replaceable “girl.”

Naraku is a mf genius. It didn't quite click until now he wanted to see if she was important or not to him and to what extent. For he planned his moves that way, making people turn against one another. While he wouldn't have made Rin turn against Sess he set everything up so he would end up wanting to kill Kohaku and in doing so, Inugang would have engaged against Sess.

Sesshomaru’s insistence on using Rin’s name isn’t only highlighted in this isolated incident though. It pays off. It is an ongoing theme in their dynamic throughout the series.

That's her name ... How you want him to call her? Baby?

I could go on and on but... This is a fucking essay. And then I stumble against more bullcrap:

The second point I want to highlight here is Sesshomaru’s reaction to Rin’s fall and her risky expedition. At this point, it’s unquestionable that Rin has a special place in his heart.

Of course she has a special spot in his heart. I won't deny that. What worries me is how you're trying to justify the way she's important to him since she was a child. As if his way of seeing her had changed.

I'm gonna disagree by agreeing with you in a few pointers. Kagome and Kikyo were rivals, they both romantically love the same guy. Kagome being the only one who could save Kikyo chooses to help her, knowing damn well Inuyasha would have suffered if Kikyo had died- further more, if it was in Kagome's hands to do something about it.

Rin on the other hand, I will applaud to her how she grew past her fear of Kagura after being kidnapped by her, she saw her body in the river and said fuck it and did her best to try to pull her from the water. I loved how stubborn and brave she was, even tho Sess had to pull everyone out of the water- she deserves a gold star. You go baby girl!!!

Rin later makes a cheeky comment, noting Kagura’s romantic interest in Sesshomaru. Jaken brushes this off as childish naivety. But for the spectator, this establishes two things: (1) That Rin does not see Kagura as a rival for Lord Sesshomaru’s attention, let alone affection; and (2) that Rin is still a child. Rin is certainly a child, with a youthful and fresh outlook on life that brings out the best in people. But even as a child, her relationship with Sesshomaru is incredibly healthy, clear, and surprisingly communicative.

Why would she? She's not a spoiled brat

Nah? I thought her double D indicated otherwise. OF COURSE SHE'S A MF CHILD.

Why do you keep mentioning is healthy? Do you need reassurance of it? Communicative in what way? Cuz if you wanna talk about communication let's talk about how he didn't even acknowledge her ass when she gave birth. He didn't even say her name, didn't even look at her. Tell me now how they are communicative and healthy?

I could go on, I really but all I'm getting from this load of bullshit I'm forcing myself to read is how you do in fact need to reassure yourself thr ship is god tier and is... How you said it was? Ah, healthy.

Anyways, thanks for reading and if you see any typo ... My apologies, I tried. Also if you have any input or I was out of line in some way, my apologies once more.

#anti sessrin #antisessrin #anti-sessrin

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cozycryptidcorner · 4 years

Photo

Abel the Asrai, Chapter 2 (lemon)

Tags: pegging, masturbation, dom reader/sub fae

Faebruary prompt:

To be honest, you were expecting to spend your first day on land inside a sex shop, after all, you had promised to help Abel find something he could use to find some relief. You did not, however, expect to be the expert consultant in the matter.

The little boutique is tucked away in the recesses of this island's designated red district, curious bystanders and sexually frustrated crewmen alike flocking to witness its various wares. The windows are high and open, letting a steady stream of sunlight filter through the hundreds of different phallic-shaped sculptures lining the shelves. It's the largest and most dependable store in your experience, and you plan on doing your own shopping once Abel is distracted. Or when you gather enough courage to do it in front of him.

He seems positively fascinated with all the different options, face turning a strange shade of teal as one of the clerks lets him hold the so-called Destroyer of Bussy, the damn thing as long as his forearm and as thick as a mast rope. It makes his long fingers look nothing more than a child's, swallowing up his fist and palm. You put an end to that debacle, knowing full well he needs to start out small and go up from there.

As you drag Abel away from the dragon-sized dildos, he seems to quickly forget about them in lieu of the far more decorative selections. Some of the more expensive examples are secured behind display glass, locks magicked against thieves. Cock rings embedded with pearls, handcuffs made from gold, the kind of objects that can't be used for much more than a show of opulence are snuggled in red velvet for the sake of being ogled at.

"What about this?" He asks, pointing to a maroon, glass blown object, one that's curled with bumps protruding on one side, suspiciously akin to a tentacle.

"That's a little too advanced for inexperienced hands," you suggest, "let's try to stick with a basic shape for now."

"And your hands are not advanced?" Abel asks, arching his eyebrows.

You try to brush him off, your own face heating up with embarrassment, "my hands are plenty advanced, but you can't tack this one to the wall to pleasure yourself with."

"And that's what I'll be doing?" He dares to ask. "I thought you were supposed to help me with my little problem."

"I'm helping you right now," you say, reaching over his shoulder and pulling down a rubber dildo. It's not the same size as the positively enormous Orc Cock Delight (trademark pending), far from it, but given Abel's slim frame and inexperience, it would be a decent start. "Here, this one's probably best."

As though inspecting its shape and sculpture like an art authenticator, he takes it from your fingers and holds it in his palm. Then, to check for its plasticity, he flicks his wrist, watching it wiggle with the movement, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. "Well," he remarks at last, "I trust your judgement on the matter."

"We can get the tentacle one too, if you like," you offer, "these are your wages you're spending."

Abel has also only recently been made aware of how money actually works when you're not some pampered prince living up in a tower. After some… hazing, you think, from the rest of the crew about some misconceptions of how one can't just go to the bank and withdraw a large deposit, he's a lot more thoughtful about what he says. And definitely more frugal, too.

You see his lips purse with frustration as he has to mentally tally what he has versus what he wants to spend, but you see a breakthrough moment where he relents. "Alright," he says almost sullenly, cradling his dildo like it's an infant, "this one will do for now."

"Good," you say, glancing over the selection of glass sculptures yourself to see if anything catches your eye, but you're mostly happy with what you already have. "Now we need to get you some lube."

"What for?" He asks, following close behind as you slowly make your way to the other side of the store.

"Trust me, you can't just shove something up a hole without a bit of lubricant. Ever had carpet burn before?"

By the way his face twitches, the answer's yes.

"Same concept, but inside your body." Glass vials decorate the shelves, some small, some large, each advertising a different benefit for its use. There are various massage oils, lube, and other select liquids that claim to aid with libido and arousal… Mouth pursed, you run your fingers over the labels, trying to decide which one you'd like to use on yourself as well. "This one says it's coconut and rum flavored."

"Why is it flavored?" Abel is also looking over the bottles, brow furrowed in thought.

"Sometimes your mouth goes where the lube is, and tasting honey lemon is more palatable to some." How does one get the taste of champagne in lube, you wonder, trying to figure out if you even need something infused with flavoring.

As though reading your mind, Abel asks, "which one would you prefer?"

Oh, fuck him, he knows exactly what he's doing.

"Why?" You ask, testily. "Do you think I'm going to be licking it off your poor little cock?"

Abel sucks his breath in, but you see that the barb did none of the damage you wanted it to. Instead, he seems…. Excited? Aroused? "Only if you want to."

Everything inside of you ignites, but you tamper it down. Sucking your breath in to ground yourself, you gesture vaguely in his crotch direction, "wouldn't be that great for you if you can't even cum from it."

"The long row of chastity belts seem to disagree." He points to the shop's opposite side, furthest from the windows, multiple mannequins showing off the various different styles available for purchase. "Might as well see what the appeal is since I'm stuck with one."

You don't want to admit he's making sense here… but he is. Wordlessly, maintaining eye contact, you aim your finger, watching him grasp the bottle without being told twice.

"You know," you say, walking leisurely over to the apparel section of the shop, "there's a lot of flack that comes from being the captain's special whore."

"Is that what your crew thinks of me?" He asks, running his fingers over a leather whip.

"You're not particularly subtle about it."

"Only because you weren't paying attention to my advances."

"Only because I didn't want you to think I only brought you aboard for the pleasure of wrecking your virgin ass."

He snickers but doesn't say anything in response, now looking over the different options to hook his dildo onto. Though, since it's really your decision, you begin poking around the mannequins yourself. Even though you wouldn't necessarily want something with all the bells and whistles, maybe one that's colored to set off your eyes? Some of the leather ones have been stained with various hues and tones.

"I just want you to know that I do already have a strap," you say, picking a new one out, "it's just not on my ship."

"So you're telling me," Abel says, almost completely serious save for that slight twitch on his mouth, "that you don't fuck every single damsel in distress you come across?"

You sigh loudly, heading towards the front of the store to purchase your tiny collection of pleasure toys. "Not all of them, just the ones that ask me so nicely."

Abel hums, and you sense a trace of jealousy aimed towards your previous bedmates, but he doesn't say anything more. Once the both of you complete your purchases, hiding them in your respective satchels, you hop down the steps out of the shop. It's just the afternoon, with plenty of time left in the day, but you know that Abel is quite literally aching to try out his new toys, so you let him drag you back to the docks.

"Where are we going?" He asks in protest as you take him down to the lower decks instead of your private room.

"Do you have any idea how many people probably ran their hands over that thing before we bought it?" You're relieved to see that no one's occupying the kitchen, especially since the cook isn't a fan of people using the giant kettles to do what you're about to.

There's a barrel of water already sitting to the side, mostly for washing dishes and scrubbing the floor. You find a clean pot and fill it halfway full of the seawater, setting it on the still lit wood stove to boil. With little ceremony, you rummage through his satchel, pulling out the dildo, and plop it into the water to boil.

In the meantime, Abel seems to struggle over what he should be doing with his hands. Nervously, he folds and unfolds his fingers, weaving them together and pulling them apart, only occasionally looking you in the eye.

"Are you okay?" You ask, and he jumps.

"Y-es," he mumbles, "just excited."

"We don't have to do this today if you're-"

"I am literally begging you," he interrupts, face blushing, "to help me now. Please."

Steam begins to curl up from the pot. You nod, poking at the rubber cock with a stick, as though that will somehow speed the process. "Just a few more moments, Abel."

Once the thing is done sanitizing, and in the safety of your cabin, the door firmly locked, you can hear his breath quickening as you pull out the different objects to start experimenting with. Slowly, you pull at the front of your leather fest, loosening the laces until it's wide enough to pull off. Your nipples rise, not from cold, but from arousal, hard at the promise of shoving that false cock up his ass.

"Abel," you direct, calmly, "you need to take off your clothes."

He obeys without question, pulling his shirt up over his head and throwing it on your chair. His body has filled out slightly with muscle, no longer a wiry frame of skin and bones, but he's still not nearly as stocky as you or the rest of your crew. Anyone on this ship could lift him over their head and toss him across the deck like he weighs nothing.

Already, he's so excited that he's erect, though the head of his cock is swollen with unspelt arousal and pleasure.

"Did you ever touch yourself after the spell?" You ask, coming up close, resting your hands on his bare hips.

"Yes," he whispers, eyes almost ashamed.

"It's alright," you rub your thumbs in soothing circles right over the bump of his bone, "I'm just wondering how this works." Pause, let him think. "Did you ever um… leak precum at all?"

He blinks. "I don't understand."

You try to rephrase the question. "When you touch yourself, sometimes before you finish, a clear liquid will come out. Did that ever happen, or no?"

"No, nothing comes out." His voice is slightly raspy, you aren't sure if it's from embarrassment. "I've always had to use lotion or oils, and it would feel good for a little while. Then it would just hurt."

"And you would have to wait until it went away," you nod, as though this isn't the first time you've dealt with such a stupid, controlling and abusive curse. "But the wording is going to be our friend, here, and many males cum when being penetrated without the use of hands."

"Thank you." There's an awful lot of hope in his eyes, so you bite your lip and pray to whatever god that might hear for your success.

"Help me out of my clothes." You gloss over his adoration, feeling a tightness in your stomach.

He gets on his knees, watching you for any twitch of approval you might give, and begins to unclasp the straps on your boots—one by one. When you step out of them, you don't even have to tell him where to go next, because he's lifting your shirt up and kissing your stomach as he works your belt. Carefully, he undoes the buckle, sliding it out and opening up your waistline.

Down go your pants, then undergarments, and you take the initiative to remove your shirt yourself. Now you're also naked, standing before Abel, just two bodies open for mutual exploration. His breath quivers as you reach up and brush some hair away from his face, dragging your fingers down to cup the side of his face. Slowly, as though you both have all the time in your little shared infinity, you press your lips up against his.

This isn't the first time you've kissed. The first time was after a particularly brutal sword fight that you had managed to win with only a few scratches, Abel practically jumped on you once you had kicked your opponent overboard. That one was quick, numb with relief and over faster than it started. Now there's time, locked away from the prying eyes of your crew.

Abel has kissed before, that you can tell by the way his lips move and adjust to where you lead them. You wonder if he had done it in some hidden nook somewhere in the palace he grew up in, under cover of darkness, all hormones and drive without the promise of relief. The practice has paid off, you decide, leading him back to your bed, gently setting him down, legs spread.

"Alright," you breathe, "show me where you touch yourself."

His face is dark and blue, mouth half-open, his tongue swiping over his lips. You get the bottle of lube out, pouring some onto the palm of your hand as he slowly begins to trace the outline of his cock. Propping one of your knees up on the bed, with an arm wrapped around his shoulder, you begin to mimic his movement, rubbing the lube up the shaft and over the head. Abel winces and whimpers at how cool it is.

For encouragement, you press your mouth onto his neck, gently nipping at the skin. "You're doing so good right now, baby, it's okay."

Slowly, you cover the entirety of his cock in the lube, pumping your wrist and watching it throb and pulse between your fingers. Abel was right, nothing seems to bead out from the slit at the top, his stones even quicker to puff up and become swollen. As he arches his back, leaning towards the mattress, his hips quake and shake, but where you might expect a ribbon of white to burst out of the head, nothing happens.

You suck in your breath sympathetically rubbing the tip with your thumb to see if you can't tease anything out, but whatever cursed him is concrete and binding. When you retract your hand, he almost whines, face bright with blood, tears threatening his eyes, lower lip swollen from his teeth biting down. At this point, you think, impotence would have been the kinder option because the brief sensation of pleasure would quickly be overruled by the misery of being unable to actually spill.

"Good boy," you whisper as he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, "that must have hurt, but you're so strong for me."

He lets out a little whimper, one you swallow away with a kiss. Slowly, he lays back against your blankets, letting you straddle his waist as you nip his lips far gentler than you usually would.

"There are two ways I can take you," you say, your tits pressed up against his chest, "like this, with your legs spread out, or from behind, while you're on your hands and knees. Since this is your first time, you may pick."

He squirms beneath you, his cock painfully hard and delightfully present against your stomach. As you drum your fingers right by his ears, you can see the gears running circles in his head, carefully weighing the pros and cons of each position while so aroused his entire pelvis must feel like it's being crushed.

"Whatever you don't choose, we can do next time," you offer, hoping that might motivate him to choose a bit better.

"I-" his face becomes more flushed than it already is, "I just want to look in your eyes."

Oh, he’s sweet, the little fucker. If he keeps this kind of syrupy attitude, you might just end up falling in love.

You slide back off the bed, planting yourself firmly between his legs. "Like this?"

"Yes… please." He adds the last bit like an afterthought, but he's learning at least.

"Good boy," you purr, gently rubbing his thigh. "I'll put on the strap."

He watches you like you're a prized prostitute putting on a strip show for the ages, irises locked on your hands as you begin to pull at the various buckles and buttons. Carefully, you loop his choice dildo through the metallic ring centered right in front of your pelvis, tightening the straps to secure it in place. Once you're satisfied it won't fly off once you start thrusting, you grab the bottle of lube and bring it over to where Abel lies.

Pouring some out into your hand, you warn, "this is going to feel a bit strange at first. Since you're not used to it, I will move slowly, but you need to tell me if it hurts."

He nods sharply, his breath quickening as you start massaging his ass with the lube. You're careful here, wondering if it might be easier on him if his legs were restrained, one hand firmly on a thigh while the other experimentally prods at his hole.

"You're doing so well," you tell him, pushing your thumb up into his asshole while he whimpers. "You're going to take this cock so good, Abel, it's going to slide right in."

After adding a touch more of lube, you push your index and middle finger in together, making a gradual scissoring motion to stretch him out further. His breath quickens, his hands clawing at your blankets, but he doesn't say anything beyond a soft, wordless moan. Satisfied with how his body seems to be adapting to the intrusion, you add a third finger, and begin to pump in and out in a sort of thrusting motion.

"How does that feel?" You ask, watching the way his cock twitches and shudders.

"Good," he manages to choke, his eyes begging you for more.

"I think you're ready," you nod, taking the bottle of lube from the bed and tantalizingly rubbing it onto your fake cock. "Are you? Do you want me to start thrusting into you, baby?"

"Yes, please," his breathing accelerates, his face wild and pained.

You stretch his ass out, careful with the head of the dildo as you slowly push it in. Just to make it easier on him, you pull his knees up, spreading his legs out further and holding them steady while he quivers. Then, inch by inch, you keep moving forward until you've buried it to the hilt, your hips brushing up against his innermost thigh. You stay like that for a moment, allowing him to get used to the object's size and intrusion, petting his thighs right where your hands rest to offer some comfort.

"Does it hurt much?" You ask soothingly.

"Just a bit," he murmurs, wiggling a little as though trying to get comfortable, "not as much as I thought it might."

"Good," you bump your hips a bit, just so he knows what you're about to do. Still moving without a bit of urgency, you move back, pushing your hips away, watching his face as the pain transitions away into pleasure. Then, repeating the previous movement, you thrust forward, a bit quicker this time.

"Fuck," he curses, "that feels… that feels nice."

At that behest, you pick up the pace slightly, still going significantly slower than usual, but still maintaining a structured speed. "You like it, baby?"

"Yes," he breathes, "I like it."

"Good," you keep going, watching his body struggle to stay still as you begin to up the speed of your thrusts.

He raises his hands to his mouth, biting down, so he doesn't cry out. You feel his thighs spasm and shake beneath your fingers, his body rolling up against yours as though silently begging for more. His eyes are shut tight, brow furrowed, a strange expression twitching at his face like he's experiencing a sensation that he doesn't know is positive or negative.

"I think," he gasps, his hips thrusting in their own accord, "I- It's-"

A thick, white spray of liquid shoots out of his cock, flying high and landing on his stomach. It doesn't stop there, though, seemingly a lifetime's worth of unspelt cum trying to escape while it can, a thick, hot layer erupting out and dripping down on his waist in tandem to your thrusts. You don't stop, either, especially not when he cries out, holding his legs firmly in place as he squirms and sobs with pleasure. Only once his cock falls limp do you stop, pulling the dildo out, and a river of lube drips down his ass.

He's shaking, as though experiencing some kind of awakening. As he props himself up on his elbows, he looks down, noticing the ribbons of cum that have accumulated on his chest and pelvis, then at you. After he sees some on his hand, he licks it, not to be coy, not to be sexy, but with the general curiosity of someone who has never tasted cum in his life.

"It's salty," he says, blankly, voice void of either dashed or met expectations. Like he legitimately has no idea what he's supposed to think.

And then he begins to cry.

You're so shocked by the action that you just stand there, dildo still in hand, as tears fall out of his eyes and dribble down his cheeks. Then you snap into action, wiping your sticky fingers on an available towel before threading them through his hair, pulling him close in an embrace, ignoring the cum that's now on your skin. His face is wet against your chest, his arms wrapping around your torso in a tightening hug, chest shuddering.

"You did so well," you say soothingly, petting his hair as he tries to get himself under control, "I'm so proud of you, Abel, you really did so wonderfully for your first time. You can cry if you need to, I know this was probably very difficult."

Before you know it, you're laying down with him, his body pressed up against every single curve and crevice of yours. His face is up against your chest, arms around your waist, and you hold his head in the crook of your elbow. While his chest shudders and shakes, you whisper and murmur a myriad of encouragement and praise, but you think that's only adding fuel to his emotional fire.

So you let him process his state of mind, remaining present throughout so he has someone to lean on. After a while, he quiets down, but he makes no motion to either sit up or start round two. To be entirely honest, both of you are probably done for the day, especially with how he's handling it, but you can't walk around with stale cum on your body. Once his breathing evens out, you untangle your limbs from him, waking him up from a shivering nap.

"Hey," you say softly, poking at him, "we need to clean off."

"R-right," he sniffs, rubbing his eyes, "I-I'm sorry, that was-"

"Don't apologize," you say, almost sharply, "that must have felt very intense, and you have a right to express your emotions."

He kisses you, slowly, lazily, and you cradle his face in your hands.

"We only need to wipe off a portion of this gunk," you say, unbuckling the strap from your waist, "I think that tonight we can spend some extra money and time in a bathhouse."

"What do you mean?" He asks, glancing down at the mess he spilt on his skin.

"There's this absolutely incredible bathhouse up the mountain, right where a hot spring is. The water is supposed to be three times as effective for cleaning and rejuvenating your skin or whatever, I think you deserve a little extra pampering tonight."

"Really?" He looks like he's about to cry again.

"Come on," you pull him up until he's sitting, "let's first get marginally cleaner, so it doesn't look like we've participated in a street-side orgy."

As he pours a bit of powdery soap in your tub of scrubbing water, you begin to unbraid his hair, brush in hand, running your fingers through his green tangles to smooth out the evidence of sex. He sponges his chest and torso clean, using smelling oils to hide the scent of cum as you begin to twist and knot his hair again.

"You handled this size very well for the most part," you say, using a pick to sharply part a section of his hair away, "I think that you might be ready to upgrade in a few months, we could get that little glass one that you wanted so bad."

"I would like that," he rasps, face just as flushed as when you bottomed out inside him.

Once you clean yourself off, you dress and leave, Abel in tow. The bathhouse is a large building, overtaking a fair amount of the presumably dead volcano that overlooks the bay. You've been there before, most of your crew has, but it's the sort of place that's so far from the docks that it's a hassle to get to. By the time you're up the cliffs, Abel is panting like he's never walked this far before.

You pay the teller, not bothering to make Abel take care of his own entrance fee. A wave of wet, sticky heat hits your face when you walk into the large marble atrium, the steam from the hot springs thick in the enclosed area. There's a convenient marble map on the wall, the building's outline labeled with thick letters.

"Where do you want to go first?" You ask, mentally wondering how they make the currents for the so-called wonderous whirlpool.

He points to one of the private pools, the side of his mouth twitching up.

"Those costs-"

"I can pay," he says, patting his satchel.

Okay, he wants to play games, you can get on that level. So you shrug, and follow him down the hallway, down the stairs to the long row of private rooms. After paying the attendant down there, you pick out a random section and close the wooden door behind you for some much-needed privacy.

Abel is already stripping bare, throwing himself in the water once naked. A window lets a small amount of light through its wooden blinds, only bright enough to see his outline. Once you're also undressed, you slip into the water, sighing with relief at both the heat and the scent of the oils. You settle on a curved section, probably explicitly built for laying on, and slowly begin to scrub at your skin with a bar of pumice you brought.

Oh, and Abel seems to be enjoying himself a lot, floating on his back, face staring up at the ceiling. He looks like he's in a faraway place, mouth in a soft, genuinely content smile. You let him be in his own little world for as long as he needs to be, satisfied with cleaning the last remaining hints of sex off your body while waiting for him to come back to you.

"You know," he says finally, rising out from the water and coming close, "despite everything else, I was very spoiled as a prince."

"No," you deadpan, "really?"

"Yeah- wait," he sniffs out your sarcasm much better now, "I mean, yes, it's probably undeniably obvious."

"Supremely so," you say, remembering how another captain asked you if you were holding Abel hostage because he was too goddamn refined compared to the rest of your crew.

"I was always told that I wasn't in a place to complain," he angles your body so he can play with your hair, "and I suppose in some aspects, that was true, but now I know that everything that happened beneath that roof, golden gilded or no, was… not healthy."

"No, Abel, I can't say that it was anything remotely so." Every time you hear about some aspect of his childhood, you're filled to the brim with murderous rage on his behalf.

"But at least now I can say that after living in the quote real world, I most definitely prefer this to that." You feel his fingers twist your hair into braids. "For example, your crew doesn't follow your commands because they're afraid of what will happen if they don't, they follow your commands because you've proven to them that you're a trustworthy and capable leader."

You open your mouth, but he interrupts you.

"Luck has nothing to do with it, either. I saw you dive after a freed slave in open water because she couldn't swim. That's not luck, that's courage, and those are the kinds of actions that your people take to heart."

"I guess," you don't like accepting heartfelt compliments, especially when you think you don't deserve them.

"Which is why," he finishes, pulling you closer, "I trusted you enough to ask you for help."

"And are you satisfied with the help I provided?" You ask, remembering how much cum he had spilt from that one single session.

"Oh, yes," he purrs, seemingly completely recovered from his near mental breakdown. "I'd give you a five-star review, but I don't think I like to share."

"Really? I garner that well of a reputation?" You ask, watching his hand slide between your legs.

"I want to thank you," he says, mouth on your ear, "but I need you to show me how. Teach me where to touch you?"

You suck in a lungful of steam, watching his long, elegant fingers slowly draw little circles on your thighs. "You're going to be walking all the way back with an erection."

"But you would like that," he accuses, entirely correct, "watching me walk back while so fucking hard I may start crying."

You believe you will, realizing that the idea of him trying to keep his fucking shit together while out in public does has some kind of appeal. So you remove yourself from his lap, hauling your body up onto the cool marble floor. Trying to seem enticing, you spread your legs for him, bringing your fingers down to offer up a clearer view of your entrance and clit. Breathing harder, you say, "Remember when we kissed?"

He nods solemnly.

"Similar concept, but here. Use your tongue and mouth."

With reverence, he places a hand on both your thighs, sinking down to his knees. Of all the things you've noticed about him, one of his better qualities is how he's such a fast learner. He kisses your lips as instructed, eyes flickering up to make sure you approve of his actions. When you nod encouragingly, he continues, opening his mouth to start licking at your pussy.

You lean back, pushing your weight onto your hands, lifting up a leg and placing it on his shoulder. "That's good Abel, just like that."

He presses his face further into your slick skin, kissing and sucking on the dark puckered flesh. While his tongue is only slightly rougher than you would have expected, it's not… painfully so, no, it's more like an added texture you didn't know would feel good. Up and down, he licks, capturing a bit of your opening between his teeth and gently pulling, if only to see your reaction.

To help him a little more, you push two of your fingers between your legs, finding your clit. "Here, Abel, lick me here, baby."

The obedient little thing, he does, finding it with ease now that you've directed him. He kisses it with reference, like it's a thing to be worshipped, taking your clit between his lips and sucking. When you hiss with pleasure, his eyes turn elated, like the two of you just shared an intimate secret, and he does it again.

"Fuck, Abel," you gasp, trying to find words of encouragement, "you lick my pussy so good, baby, it's like you were made for me."

"Does that make me your little whore?" He asks, voice thick with arousal.

"That makes you my special little whore," you correct, tucking a flyaway hair behind his ear.

He smiles lazily, pressing his mouth back between your legs, returning to work with more enthusiasm than before, flicking his tongue against your clit. Then, as though mimicking how you had opened him up earlier, he slowly presses a thumb through your slit, rubbing your inner, slick ridges. Fuck, he's a clever little bastard, and by the way you buck in his mouth, he's going to know it, too.

The pressure in your stomach grows, a wave of warm arousal dripping out of your core. Abel licks it all up like a seasoned prostitute, pulling you closer to the edge so gravity shifts your body down. He presses up, mouth and nose grinding up against your clit, now, adding far more pressure than before. You swallow thickly, trying to find the words to praise him, but thoughts start escaping your mind, replaced by pleasure.

"Good," you manage to croak out, "that feels good."

You can feel the smugness emanating off of him from making you speechless, his boldness only growing as you further spiral. As your hips start jerking, your thighs shaking, he continues to eat your pussy like he's a starving animal, the sounds from his open-mouthed sucking driving you positively mad.

It doesn't hit you all at once; instead, your orgasm comes in waves, each more volatile and pleasurable than the last. Abel must have sensed its arrival, locking his arms around your hips to hold you in place as you buck into his mouth. Nor does he deem you worthy of mercy, either, showing you every amount of vigor and determination you offered him barely hours before.

When you've ground it out, only plagued by a few aftershocks, he pulls away, a long trail of saliva and cum connecting his mouth to your core. And he smiles, he smiles, heaving for breath, lips flushed and swollen.

Slowly, you slide back into the water, legs weak and still shaking, right onto his lap. True to your prediction, he's hard, cock upright in the water, but he doesn't seem too bothered as you straddle his waist. You kiss him, taking things nice and slow, tasting the scented oils and sulfuric water along with your pleasure on his tongue.

"Did I do good?" He asks, digging for more praise.

But you give it to him, he deserves it after this kind of day. "Yes, Abel, you ate my pussy like a fucking slut."

His breathing quickens in excitement.

"I don't think the whores down in the red district could eat me out like that, and you did it on your first try." You pet the side of his face, running your fingertips over his pointed ears. "My clever, sweet little prince."

He nuzzles his face between your breast as you play with one of his braids.

"I think I'm going to keep you," you muse aloud, "would you like that? Would you like to be my bedmate from now on?"

His throat bobs as he swallows thickly. "Yes."

"Good," you whisper, tracing the path of his spine, "I think I can buy you that glass dildo, after all."

#fae/reader #asrai/reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #water fae

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